May 7, 1999

"I want to tell you the story of my life. It's really very sad, kid. You may need another cigarette."

The young man sitting behind the table smiled and nodded, producing a package of Marlboros from his jacket pocket. He fumbled with the package for a moment before at last lifting a single one from the package and lighting it with the flick of a small neon green lighter. He took a long drag then eyed the young woman standing in front of the window. Her slender body was still and calm as she stared out into the darkness, a look of deep contemplation on her face. Her long blonde hair was done up in twin ponytails on opposing sides of her head framing her smooth face. Her blue eyes were quivering in emotional torment as she gazed into the night. The young man couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with her. When he had seen her in the small cafe down the street he had automatically asked her if she would consider doing an interview. "That's what I do, you see. I collect lives on tape."

The woman had smiled a dazzling smile and agreed. Now, as she stared contemplatively out at the city of Gotham, Tom couldn't help but smile quietly to himself. She had a story, that was certain, and he readied the tape recorder in anticipation. The girl turned to him then, a hint of a smile on her lips as she moved to the wooden chair opposite the boy. "So tell me..."

"Oh God, I'm sorry. Tom. The name's Tom Malloy."

"Right. So tell me, Tom, why are you so eager to record my life? Why me?"

Tom smiled and took another drag on his cigarette. "Well ya see, that's what I do. I collect lives. I told you."

"But why me? What makes me so special?"

"Well, your beauty for one." He winked at her." And for another, you look so familiar to me that I was just curious about you."

The woman seemed to be amused by this and giggled a bit to herself. "I can imagine. I'm wanted in ten states."

Tom was, quite understandably, confused for a moment. Then he remembered it all when she smiled again. On that show about the most wanted criminals. She was a murderer and thief who used to work for the Joker before he disappeared: Harley Quinn.

The boy gasped as the realization struck him and moved to stand. Before he could do so however, the lithe woman had come to stand directly behind him. She placed a calming hand on his shoulder and spoke softly. "Don't be afraid. I want this opportunity."

The man's voice was shaking as he tried to sound unafraid. "Are you going to kill me for some sick joke?"

"No. I like you, and you should be the one. You seem kind and understanding. You have heard so many, surely you can hear me without fear. Now please sit."

Something in her voice rang true, and when Tom craned his neck to look at her he could sense the honesty of her words. He sighed and settled back into his chair properly as Harley went to do the same. When they were once more comfortable, Tom began to prepare the little tape recorder on the bare table. He looked around as the woman retrieved a grape soda from a tiny refrigerator in the corner of the room. He glanced around, rather curious as to what sort of a place a psychotic clown woman would want to stay. It was barren, without so much as a figurine on the bare dresser. The walls were empty of any pictures or artwork, and the windows looking out into the San Franscico night were deprived of any curtains or blinds. It was eerie, and more than a little unsettling, but then she was a psycho wasn't she? "So, is this where you live?"

"No. Just a place to crash for a night or two. Nothing fancy."

Tom nodded absently, a little sad that he wasn't being allowed into her real home as he clicked on the tape recorder and she began to speak. "Where should I begin. Shall I start at the very beginning when the earth was formed? Perhaps when I was born? Or shall I begin when I was Born to Madness, as I like to call it?" Tom nodded shakily, taking another drag on his cigarette as the blonde woman smiled, her eyes seeming to laugh silently. "Yes, I think that is where we should begin."

The woman's eyes faded gently out of focus as she stared off into space, the memories taking hold. Tom waited in anticipation of her next words and the miraculous story that he hoped would unfold. "It all began in Gotham City, at Arkham Asylum. I was twenty-four, younger than you are now. You see I had just graduated from the Gotham State University with a degree in psychology. I didn't really earn it by traditional standards, as you have probably heard."

Tom nodded. He had indeed heard about Harleen Quinzel's sexual influences over her professors in college. Looking at her now he could easily see how a man could fall for her charms.

She seemed to sense this and nodded. "I was much younger then. I haven't seen the Joker in eight years, can you believe it? I don't think anyone has, though I have tried to contact him. All I can do is hope he comes to me nowadays. But I get ahead of myself. Anyway, I graduated and was soon interning at Arkham Asylum.

"Now, I know you must think I was goading trouble by requesting such a place, but you don't think now as I did then. You see Arkham was a fanciful place I had only heard about in news reports and horror stories. I just had this overwhelming curiosity to see the place, to work there. You smile, but it's quite true. The old place casts a spell all its own over everyone there; inmates and doctors alike. If one is not careful, they will soon find themselves on the other side of the Plexiglas windows as many others before me had discovered.

"It was during my first week at Arkham that I caught a glimpse of the man who would change me forever. I will never forget that day; it altered the course my life and many others. He was leaning against a wall in his cell whistling "The Merry-Go Round Broke Down". His hair gleamed emerald under the florescent lights and the shadows on his pale skin seemed deeper and darker than those of normal people did. He winked at me, you know. It's well documented in that "Mad Love" comic book. But the book is not entirely accurate, as most books are not. Do you understand?"

Tom considered it for a moment. "Yes," he answered. "Like the translation of Jurassic Park, right? They left all the good stuff out."

Harley threw back her head and laughed. Not the infamous laughter of her former lover, but a sweet girlish laugh filled with mirth and merriment. Tom couldn't help but smile and relax a bit. How could this innocently sweet girl of a woman hurt anyone? "Yes, exactly!" She finally gasped. "I'm sorry, I've just never heard anyone state it like that before, though it's quite true in many respects."

The boy nodded then gestured for her to continue.

"My next encounter with the Joker was one of those that went undocumented in "Mad Love". I was in my office, after hours because there was still so much to put away in my first week, when he sneaked up behind me. I hadn't even known he was there until he wrapped his powerful arms around me and muffled my cries with his hand. 'Not a sound, sweets. Wouldn't want to arouse the guards now, would we?'

"Naturally I was too frightened to think clearly, so he didn't really expect an answer. I was much weaker then than I am now. He snickered at my futile struggles then threw me aside and into a chair. I looked up at him, marveling at his sheer beauty. I didn't want to admit it then, but he resembled a Roman statue carved of pure marble. I wanted to run my fingers over his bare flesh, but I daren't try lest he kill me. Instead I simply stared up at him, trying to think of something to say. No one prepares a psychology student for such an attack, and even if they had I wouldn't have remembered it considering the way I got my grades.

"He stared at me for a long time, simply standing before me and staring as though testing me out for weaknesses. I felt as though the slightest tip of the scales would decide my fate and struggled to stay in control and not cry outright. Finally after long moments he nodded and lifted me up crudely by my shoulder. I hissed in pain as he squeezed my arm too tightly, but I didn't scream. I was afraid of what he would do to me.

"He held me out at arms length and studied my body then as though he was considering me for a future purchase. I glared at him as he did this and, to my surprise, he stopped and backed away from me. He smiled a slight smile and gazed into my eyes. 'Yes, you'll do nicely.' Was the last thing he said before he lunged forward. His fist moved out and I braced myself, expecting blows. But his hand stopped just inches from my face, hovered there for a moment with his leering smile floating disembodied behind it, before once again darting for my body -- this time my throat. I backed away but only too late as a nerve was depressed, rendering me unconscious."

Tom by now was leaning forward in his seat with his cigarette hanging in that strange way cigarettes do from his lower lip. His eyes were wide as he waited in anticipation. Harley smiled at him. "Now why are you so anxious to hear the rest? Surely you can tell that I lived."

"Yes, but what happened next?"

"Well, naturally I awoke alive and with a throbbing skull. My head hurt a lot and I was kinda confused. Pudd-"

The woman blushed slightly then and cleared her throat before continuing. "I mean, The Joker was standing in front of me smiling that smile of his and waving. He has such large green eyes, you know?"

Tom shook his head, puzzled. "That's always confused me. Are his eyes green, red, purple, or blue? No one really seems to know for sure."

Harley smiled; her eyes glazing over slightly and a dreamy look on her face as she spoke. "They are green. He just wears contacts of different colors to confuse people. They used to be an aqua color, did you know that? He told me so, but the acid made them green." She frowned, then shook her head and smiled. "I'm sorry. Where was I? Before I started on his eyes I mean."

Tom nodded and smiled. "You were telling me about your surroundings when you woke up--"

"Oy, that's right. Ok, Joker had taken me to one of his secret hideouts. Now, when people say the words 'Secret Hideout', you envision a broken down building with rotten carpets and mold, right? Well, Joker didn't lower himself to those standards. He decked his places out in style, know what I mean?

"The place was filled with all manner of toys and electronics equipment. There was a whole wall of the place devoted to the fireplace, kinda like those old medieval castles. The carpet was black and the walls were painted a deep purple. There were no henchmen in the room with us, but I could faintly hear them outside the room.

"My hands were bound and I was laying on the floor. My face felt kinda funny and I could tell my hair had been done differently. I don't mind saying I was scared shitless!"

Tom smiled faintly, leaning closer to Harley as she spoke. Her strange changes of mood and personality were definitely daunting, but they would only add spice to his book. And boy, what a book this would turn out to be! "Go on, please."

"Well, Joker seemed to read the fear on my face and he smiled larger. Then he ran really fast, the guy is nimble as Hell ya know, over to a toy box and began rummaging through it for something. Uhm..." She began to fidget and bit her lip slightly. "Do you mind if I mention some sexual kinda stuff?"

"No, not at all. It'd be good to actually."

She visibly relaxed and nodded. "Ok, but I won't get too graphic.

"Joker has a nice ass, ya get me? I mean REALLY nice. And lucky me, I got a good view from where I was sitting. I didn't want to, of course."

Tom smirked knowingly. "Of course."

"Anyway he finally came back with a mirror. It was scuffed a bit and kinda dirty, but I could clearly see what he had done. My face was covered in a thin layer of white greasepaint and a black domino mask had been pressed to the skin around my eyes. I was hooded with the black and red harlequin headgear I wore for years. You know, the thing with the little doggie ears and little puff balls on the end?"

The boy nodded, but didn't interrupt as he listened intently.

"I was more than a little surprised. I think I gasped. He just smiled at me calmly, his eyes flashing with excitement. 'You are the very spirit of fun and frivolity now, dear. How does it feel to wear a mask? You can do anything you like now and no one will know it was you. Does it feel good to have such power?'

"And you know what? It did. It felt damn good."

"So what happened next? What did he do?"

Harley smiled at the boy. She seemed to be gathering strength from the simple act of speaking with him. Her quiet and calm demeanor had struck him as strange before, but now as she switched back and forth from calm to bubblingly active he was becoming just a little afraid, book and possible movie rights be damned.

She stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head and swallowing. "I get kind of into it, if you know what I mean. I went to a lot of trouble to rid myself of that side of my personality. You know: the bubble-headed blonde bit. Puddin didn't like it. Said I sounded kinda fake, and it grated on his nerves." She took a moment to clear her throat and close her eyes contemplatively. When she reopened them she was calm again and she continued. "The mask made me feel such power. He was very right about that. Of course he was always brilliant. He could twist minds to his own purposes with such skill that I used to think he could read minds. It made him seem all the more god-like, if you can understand that. I mean, imagine an ethereal ghostly man with a demonic grin and handsome body who is quite capable of reading your mind when it pleases him. He seems to be able to sense when certain people are lying to him or speak the truth. He dispenses his own brand of twisted justice however he deems fit and has asked you in the most gentlemanly of ways to accompany him on a crime spree. What could I do but agree?

"Of course the .45 automatic against the base of my skull probably had something to do with that too, but you know how it is.

"He untied me, he knew somehow that I would not run, and led me out of the room and down a back hallway. The .45 was pressed to the small of my back and he was grinning broadly as we walked. That smile. It seemed to almost glow in the dim light. He always had a supernatural air to him, but the faint illumination was something only Batman and I remember as far as I know. I never knew if it was just a trick of my own mind or if he actually gave off a glow, but whatever the reason he seemed to radiate a light I had never seen before. I was terrified. I no longer thought he was human; more like a demon or an angel to me. There was no way of knowing which though, so I waited for a sign as we made our way down the ever-darkening hallway. Soon the light was left behind us as we plunged further into the shadows. I was afraid and beginning to feel claustrophobic, but he whispered to me which way to go and how to get there. I no longer felt his gun in my back, but I was forced to trust him. Nay, to depend on him. I resisted at first and held my arms out in a desperate attempt to feel my way along.

"I know he wore no night vision goggles or lenses because we had just been together in a well-lit room. He had been carrying nothing as we entered the hall and I had watched him in the faint hope that he would produce a pair. A least he would know where we were going. As things stood, however, the night was just as dark to him as it was for me. The difference being that he knew his way around expertly.

"As I held my arms out to their full length and turned in slow circles, whimpering pitifully in the dark, his voice wafted to me as though from another world, 'Trust me.'

" 'You're insane!'

" 'We all go a little mad sometimes. Now trust me or you'll die here. I'll leave you here alone in the dark and you'll never find a way out. You'll wander in circles until you drop from fatigue. Or you can do as I say. I'm your only chance now. Trust me.'

"I was shaking all over and could feel the greasepaint running down my face in thin trickles as I broke out in a sweat. I wanted to kill him then, more than I had ever wanted anything. But then his throaty chuckling could be heard and in an instant I knew there was no choice in the matter. He had me right where he wanted me. But for what purpose, I did not know."

"I resisted a bit more before finally dropping to my knees and screaming out 'You win! I'll trust you, just get me outta here!'

"I could practically feel his smile then as I sobbed on the cold stone floor, the greasepaint running down my face and my body soaked in sweat. I was trembling; afraid he had left me there. There was no sound and I cried out for him, cursed him, and finally begged in a small and pleading voice. At last I got quiet. He would do as he wished, and I had no desire now to hurt him. I lay there with my eyes wide open but seeing only darkness. I was vaguely afraid a bug would crawl through my hair or a knife would suddenly plunge into my throat, but I didn't move. I just lay there.

"He finally came to me. It could have been days or minutes, but he finally came back. I was exhausted and afraid, but when his hand enveloped mine and lifted me to my feet I was overcome with joy. It was as if I had been sent to Hell and redeemed by an angel. I think I told him this, because his laughter rang out beside me. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

"He led me through the darkness. I didn't even try to feel my way along, just held onto my dark savior as he led the way. He said nothing, only aided me through the dark and for a moment I was struck by the terrifying thought that this was it. This was the time when he would finally kill me. But it wasn't so, for my vision was suddenly invaded by light. A dim light, really, but blinding to me. I wailed foolishly as the pain stung my eyes and buried my face in his coat as he led me to the center of the room. Then he stopped walking and pried me away roughly, planting me painfully on my ass. The marble floor was cold beneath my body and I shivered there, huddling in the light like some waif off the street, as he looked me over. His face was blank and uncaring, except for his eyes which displayed his madness and glee at my current state. I wanted to cry but had no real will to do so anymore, so I just stared back at him with my own mask of indifference. He smiled then, and I hesitantly returned his smile. Then he held up a box wrapped in black paper with a metallic purple bow. He raised his eyebrows suggestively. 'A gift, my dear.'

"I took the box and sat before it, my entire body numb and faintly amused by all this. I don't know why, but I wanted to laugh right out loud. I did laugh finally when the paper had been torn away and the box opened: neatly folded and laying on a mattress of cotton was a black and red leotard with matching gloves, shoes, and a white collar. The rest of my costume as I would wear it for years as a symbol of my new persona. I smiled at first, the laughter tugging at the corners of my mouth before spilling out over my lips in waves. I laughed and laughed, stripping feverishly before his eyes and stepping into the costume as though I was donning a religious robe. I zipped up the back and pulled the gloves on, reveling in their texture. The shoes fit my feet perfectly and had no fasteners to slow me down if I was in a hurry. The outfit was snug on my body, leaving not a wrinkle or crease standing out. The material in the front was specially fitted for my breasts, giving them the appearance of being suspended in air. It was as though I had a bra on, yet without the bra. It crossed my mind that this outfit had been specially tailored for me. That he had been planning this for awhile to get my dimensions exactly right, but it didn't matter. I didn't care anymore. He was God and I was his eager servant. I felt free, and stretched my body sensuously before him as he smiled. Then he opened his arms and I ran to him, kissing his hands and feet and holding him tightly as he spoke, 'I dub thee Harley Quinn: my new playmate. How do you feel, dear, now that you have shed the chains of sanity? Will you accept this new identity I have graciously bestowed upon you?'

"It was all I could do to manage a nod, and I received another peal of his laughter as my reward."

Harley sat back in her chair and looked at the boy for a moment. "Now the question is, should I continue or should I end here? There is so much more to tell, but it would take a long time. I don't know if you have enough tape, Tom."

Tom extinguished his cigarette and smiled before opening his mouth to answer her. "I've got a whole bag full of tape. The question is, do you really want to be telling me all this? I mean, seriously, the Joker is still out there. No one's found his body --"

"They never do."

"...and he could turn up at any moment. Also, am I supposed to just sit on this story like it's another ho hum deal?" Not that he would, but best to ask, if only to make the publishers up his salary. Risk of life and limb and all.

"No. I want you to tell the world. I want people to read what I have lived and realize the danger, the true danger and allure of the darkness within us all. I love Joker. I wouldn't trade what we had, abusive and hurtful as it was, for anything else in the world. That's the horror of it, don't you see? He gave me a choice and I took what he had: psychosis and power and so many things society abhorred then and still abhor now eight years later.

"But what's more, I'm not unique. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people out there who would literally kill to be in my place. Men and women who would die over and over again if it meant they could belong to him for just a moment. He was both my light and my darkness. My maker and my destroyer. It was through him that all things flowed and I worshiped that. And when he came to me in the darkness of my room and kissed me with a tenderness few others had ever felt from him, I kissed him back. And when he touched me, I touched returned his touches with as much affection as any woman can ever show a man she wants as her husband. And when we made love with the heat and the sweat and the pain and the screams and the chains across my body, I loved him as I would always love him. That is why I was hunted down and tried and sent to Arkham over and over and over again; because I loved him and would not be told that he was bad or wrong or evil. Crazy is one thing, and evil is completely different, do you understand?"

Tom was slightly pale, but he wiped the side of his nose and nodded thoughtfully. "I think so, though I must say it sounds a little loony tunes." Then his eyes opened a bit wider and he pasted a bit shit-eating grin on his face. "No offense of course!"

Harley only smiled, bit it was a small and almost sarcastic smile. "None taken, of course."

Tom grinned a bit, reveling in the kindness this beautiful if older woman was showing him, and he couldn't help but wonder if this timid familiarity would somehow blossom into something more. A relationship of some sort, maybe, and a dreamy sort of smile began to form across his face as the woman watched him, her eyes unflinching. But something had changed in them. Something was different. They were steely now, less open and perhaps more alert to an approaching danger, like a predator. She smiled then, and stood without any glance to the boy sitting across from her at all, her eyes focused only on the door to the little room with an intensity Tom had never seen. He was almost afraid to turn around, and when the voice of the intruder wafted across the room like the call of something supernatural he knew who had finally come.

"It's been a long time, Harls."

Harley smiled and nodded. "Wasn't my intention, Mistah J. Ya neva call, ya neva write..."

The Joker chuckled as he strode further into the room, coming over to stand beside his Harley Quinn, just across from the boy who was trembling in spite of himself. Dimly he was glad the tape was still running, but then it wouldn't do much good if he was dead. The two psychopaths came together, standing facing each other as though some silent reconciliation were passing between them. They stood like that for a long moment before Joker smiled and opened his arms slightly. Harley smiled and went to him happily, hesitating at first but then with a smile on her face. Tom looked from one of them to the other, trying to decide if he should make a break for it or just hope that Harley would speak on his behalf.

But then the Joker's face was before him, grinning that trademark grin and looking sideways to his girl. "So, do you want to take care of him, or can I?"

Tom's eyes got very wide, and he looked to Harley in a silent plea. She only smiled at him before turning to her boss and lover. "Be my guest, Puddin!"

And Joker threw back his head and laughed uproariously as the reporter boy quaked in his seat.