Hearts, Clubs, and Diamonds

Chapter 6

Present Day

Harley Quinn opened her eyes, returning from her memories. The noises from next door had stopped, and she thanked heaven for small mercies. She glanced over at her phone, and reviewed the messages from Joker. Then she sighed, picking up her bag and heading for the door.

She exited the room just as one of the people next door did with an ice bucket in hand. "Oh...hi, Red," said Harley, recognizing Poison Ivy. "Happy Valentine's."

"Harley!" exclaimed Ivy, forcing a smile. "What a...pleasant surprise! What are you doing in this cheap hotel?"

"Well, I was gonna spend the night alone away from Mr. J," said Harley. "He really pissed me off earlier tonight when he brought Batman on our Valentine's Day date. But I've had some time to cool off, and I realized I can't ever leave the big jerk permanently, not after all we've been through together. He just means too much to me. So I'm heading back home. What are you doing here? I heard you earlier – glad you're having a successful Valentine's Day," she added, smiling at her.

"Oh...yeah...I am," she agreed.

"Anyone I know?" asked Harley, nodding inside.

"No, I don't think so," said Ivy hastily.

"Hey dollface, hurry up with that ice!" shouted a voice from inside. "The champagne's getting warm!"

Harley stared at her. "Is that...Scarface?"

"No," said Ivy, a little too quickly. "No, it's not. Just some guy who sounds like Scarface."

Harley continued to stare at her. "So...were you doing the puppet, or the ventriloquist? Or both?"

"That's really none of your business, Harley," snapped Ivy. "And it's not Scarface, or the Ventriloquist. It's...someone else."

"What's his name?" asked Harley.

"It's...uh...it's...also none of your business," retorted Ivy. "Now why don't you just go back to the clown? I hope one day you'll learn some self-respect and not come crawling back after he treats you like dirt, but I doubt it."

She returned to her room and shut the door. Harley shrugged, heading down the stairs and muttering, "If I had just done a puppet, I wouldn't be talking about self-respect."

...

"You're back," commented Joker, as Harley opened the door to their bedroom and entered.

"Yeah," said Harley, nodding. "You knew I would be. You were right. My kidnapping is a good anniversary to remember. I've just been remembering that day...everything about that day. That's why I came back."

He nodded. "Good. I knew it would work."

"What did you know would work?" asked Harley. "That if you sent those texts to me, you'd make me remember what you said that night? And that would have me come crawling back here?"

He chuckled. "I know you too well, pooh."

"Yeah, you do," agreed Harley. "I also know you too well. You didn't need to send 'em – you knew I'd be back sooner or later. I always am. But I know why you sent them – because you don't function well without me, not even for a little while. You need me. You don't like to admit it, and it's hard for you to believe, but I bring the same sort of stability to your life that Batman does. And for a man who claims to love chaos and spontaneity, you're actually hugely dependent upon your routine. Just like you gotta fight Batman every night, and apparently every Valentine's Day – some things need to be constant for you to be happy. And me being around is one of those things."

"That's some good shrinking there, pooh," said Joker, planting a kiss on her lips.

"And I guess some could argue that that's more psychological dependency than anything else," continued Harley. "But to be honest, psychological dependency has always been my favorite kind of love."

"Mine too," agreed Joker. "Why waste all that time with grand romantic gestures when you can just make people completely dependent on you so that the absence of your presence will cause an intense psychological breakdown? There's more than one way to show people you care, right, pooh?"

"That's right, Mr. J," agreed Harley, kissing him. "Who's my unhealthy, abusive lover?"

"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it, you dirty little minx," replied Joker, kissing her again. "Now while the Bat's outta it, and since it's Valentine's Day and all, what do you say we go out for a night on the town? We can paint it red!"

Harley sighed. "Is killing a buncha people really your idea of a romantic evening?"

"Harley, I'm surprised you have to ask that question," retorted Joker. "You know homicide puts me in the mood. Now c'mon," he said, handing her her giant mallet. "You go break yourself something nice. You deserve it," he added, pinching her cheek. "You know all the restaurants are gonna be packed tonight – let's attack a couple of 'em, terrorize a buncha innocent couples trying to have a romantic evening, and then come back here for some whoopie cushion time."

Harley sighed again, this time in delight. "Sounds perfect, Mr. J," she said.

And it did. It wasn't objectively a great way to spend Valentine's Day, but Harley knew better than to compare her and Mr. J to regular couples. What they had was indeed unhealthy and abusive, but it suited them just fine. Even if everyone else in the world turned against them, they would always have each other, and they would always have their mad love.

The End