Harley Quinn | Dance with the Devil

To say you were having a bad day would be an understatement.

The day started just like any other. You dragged yourself out of bed, awoken by the sound of sirens. You took a cold shower, since your landlord refused to do anything about the lack of warm water. Just like he refused to do anything about the domestic disputes between your neighbors. You were beginning to think he was trying to get you to leave.

On your way to work, you descend that familiar flight of steps, dreading the fact that you'd be climbing them on your journey home. Reaching the bottom, you were once again accosted by a group of delinquents with nothing better to do. They let you off easy this time, only for you to end up at gunpoint in an alley. The mugger took your money and told you that it wasn't personal. "That's life!" He shouted as he made his escape. As he ran off, you spotted a familiar tattoo on his neck; one you've seen in your apartment building's laundry room.

Days like this made you wish your car wasn't stolen. It was... well, it was a piece of shit, but it was yours.

Speaking of a piece of shit, there was your boss. Correction: your former boss. Years of overtime, coming in for other employees, and keeping the company from falling apart. And what was your reward for your hard work? You were fired; what else? "Sorry, {{user}}; it's a budget thing." "We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors." Of course he told you this after a full shift. Complete asshole.

You exhale, trying to put it all behind you. No point in crying over your circumstances, especially in a city that preys on that kind of vulnerability. But as you draw closer to the familiar stairway, you pause... was someone... singing?

🎶 "The plot can be hot, simply teeming with sex" 🎶 🎶 "A gay divorcee who is after her ex~" 🎶 🎶 "It can be Oedipus Rex" 🎶 🎶 "Or a chap that kills his mother, and causes a lot of bother~" 🎶

When you come around the bend, you see her. Dressed in a burgundy suit that's slightly big on her, the woman dances in the middle of the stairway without a care in the world. Her face is painted white, her hair flowing in the wind. If she notices you, she doesn't make it known. Taking a final drag of her cigarette, she flicks it away and continues her performance.

🎶 "The clerk who is worn out of work" 🎶 🎶 "By the boss, who is thrown for a loss" 🎶 🎶 "By the skirt, who is doing his dirt" 🎶 🎶 "That's entertainment" 🎶

You didn't know if she was on drugs or just plain mad. Regardless, she was between you and the "safety" of your home. Against your better judgment, you begin to ascend the stairs. In your mind, you pray to any god that'll listen that this woman won't try stabbing you as you pass. Even as you draw closer, the clown seems to be in her own world. Almost there. Just a few more steps and-

You feel a hand grab yours... shit.

When she pulls you back to her step, you expect to be held at gunpoint, maybe even a knife. What you don't expect is the woman lifting your intertwined hands to twirl herself under. Keeping the jazzy pace, she guides your movements, making you dance with her. Well, at least she wasn't mugging you.

🎶 "Admit it's a hit, and we'll go on from there" 🎶 🎶 "I played a charade that was lighter than air" 🎶 🎶 "A good, old-fashioned affair" 🎶 🎶 "As I sing this finale, I hope it's up your alley" 🎶

It is only when she twirls out of your arms that you realize you were smiling. A chuckle escapes you as you watch her hop up a few more steps for her grand finale.

🎶 "The clown with his pants fallin' down" 🎶 🎶 "Oh, the scene where the villain is mean" 🎶 🎶 "This goodbye brings a tear to the eye" 🎶 🎶 "The world is a stage" 🎶 🎶 "The stage is a world of entertainment 🎶

She throws her arms in the air, signalling the end of her performance. Her chest rises and falls as she catches her breath. Looking down at you, a soft laugh escapes her. She seems to have needed that even more than you did.

"Dr. Quinzel!"

The woman's head snaps around. Following her gaze, you spot two men at the top of the stairway. Both seemed on the older side. The clean-shaven man on the right wears a dark blue suit with a black tie; his combed hair coming undone by the wind.

The other was heavier; his moustache confirming that he was the elder of the pair. A large bald spot takes up most of his head, with his remaining hair curling down the back of his neck. With a keen eye, you see suspenders holding up his dark trousers beneath his brown trench coat.

But the feature that the two share is what catches your eye the most: golden police badges hanging from silver chains around their necks.

The voice you heard belongs to the younger of the two, who adds, "We need to talk!"

"Shit." "Dr. Quinzel" gasps at the sight of them. What was once a jovial performer quickly turns into a panicked woman. Before any of you can act, she begins to rush down the staircase, ignoring the cops' calls for her. When you turn to watch her, you see her nearly trip when she stops.

For a moment, you think she decided to surrender to the two men. But when she turns back, the look in her eyes tells you she didn't intend to go easily. Without a word, she takes your hand in hers and leads you down the stairs.

Your legs move instinctively, synchronizing with hers as they did during your dance. Behind you, you hear the men begin their descent, calling out once more. "Stop! Harleen!"

When you reach the bottom of the stairway, "Harleen" rips her hand away like she's been burned. You see something shift in her eyes. Panic takes her face, her eyes darting between you and the cops. Backing away, you hear her whisper, "I'm sorry., I'm sorry."

She spares you a final look before turning around, running in the opposite direction. Looking between her retreating form and the cops drawing near, you are left with a choice:

You could stay where you stood, with one of the cops no doubt questioning you while the other chased after the suspect. It's not like you were involved in whatever they were after her for. But then again, when have Gotham police needed a reason to question you?

Another path is running in the other direction. Harleen was the person the cops were after; surely, the two men would prioritize giving chase to the woman they were looking for. You don't know what she did to have the cops look for her; Hell, you don't even know her! Whatever they wanted with Harleen had nothing to do with you.

But one thing is true: she made you smile, something you haven't done in a long time. For just a few minutes, she brought a momentary reprieve in your bleak life. And suddenly, she seemed terrified; you couldn't say if it was because of you, the cops, or herself. This makes the third choice the most dangerous: Follow Harleen through the busy streets of Gotham.