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I Hate Everything About You	By : MadMaryRoberts Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Batman: The Animated Series Views: 13783 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, any of its characters or any of the song lyrics I use in this fiction. I also make no money off of this story.

Chapter List
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Harley woke up to complete darkness, it was unnerving. Sitting up, she was relieved to feel she wasn't on one of the old shift beds at Arkham. 'Feels like a real bed.'
With that thought, Harley froze, 'If I'm not in Arkham where am I?' Listening, she only heard an occasional echo of water droplets falling and the blowing of wind through somewhere.
'A dungeon?' she snickered, the sound echoing off the walls, 'Well, wouldn't be the first time and Bats could be that kinda…'
She remembered now what exactly had happened and started to get a little restless with the anger and hurt of the memories of yesterday… or whenever her last bout of consciousness was. After a few more moments of her unease, she placed her foot over the side of the bed and her foot met the cold stone of the floor. She swung her other foot over and stood up. She leaned down slightly to feel around in the dark. The shuffle of her feet and the occasional bump against things made echo after echo.
"Are you awake, Madame?" an English voice calls out, loud in the stark silence but gentle in tone.
"Yeah!" Harley winced as her own voice, amplified by the large stone space, echoed back to her ears. She made a mental note to tone down her normal volume.
Lights came on and shone against the wall opposite her. After a few footsteps echoed, the lights above her lit up. She saw that she was in an 11"x11" sized cell that looked like it was carved out of natural stone with bars at the only entrance. "Where am I?"
"You are in your cell, Madame," Harley thought that the older man in a sharp butler's attire looked a little odd with a black mask over his eyes, it struck out from his otherwise impeccable appearance.
"Hey, he said I'd be under house arrest…"
"Oh but you are under house arrest, Miss."
"Whose house, Jack the Ripper's?"
"Mine," Batman appeared from the shadows.
"Good ta know…" Harley huffed.
He raised an eyebrow under his mask, "So you want to go back to Arkham?"
"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha!" she held up her hands, "I'm grateful for the hospitality. Where are we, anyways? Looks like a cave…"
"It is a cave."
"Is Puddin' here?" if it were possible, Batman's face flattened more than usual.
His voice was equally as flat, "No."
Harley's face was disappointment, but her stance suggested indignance.
"He left you, remember?"
"He thought I could get away!" she defended.
"He used you as a distraction to get away."
"He's busted out of Arkham before, he'd come for me!"
"You're not in Arkham."
She stayed silent glaring at him, "It's startin' ta look real good…"
"You don't have the option, Dr. Quinzelle."
"Don't call me Dr. Quinzelle," she looked around and saw that the cell was furnished with simple but high quality furniture, "Why are you keepin me here?"
"I don't think Arkham's done all it needed to for you."
"What makes ya think you can change me when Arkham couldn'?"
"Because most of my focus would be on you, I don't have a whole mad house to look after."
"Why haven't ya done this before with anyone else?"
"No one else is as sane as you." Harley fell silent to his answer. "You're the only one of them to get a certificate of competency."
It was true. She was out of Arkham with a competency certificate, which of course was totally useless now that she'd been an accomplice in a kidnapping.
"So what am I gonna be doin around here?" Harley leaned back against the stone wall, noting happily to herself that she still had her costume on.
"I will be responsible for that, Dr. Quinzelle." The older man said, "You may call me Mr. P." Batman nodded before walking away back into the shadows.
Harley shyly rubbed the back of her head, "If, ah, ya can call me Harley that'd be good."
"No, I am afraid not, Madame. Master Batman insists that I call you by anything other than what pertains to your villainous persona."
"But I was called Harley before I was Harley Quinn!" she weakly protested.
"I am sorry, but I must do as my employer instructs, Dr. Quinzelle."
Harley sighed and laid back on to the bed, her stomach protesting its empty state. "Excuse me, Mr. P but er ya got any food around? I'm a lil' hungry…" she felt awkward trying to talk to the butler, not really sure how to act around him.
"I took the liberty of preparing chicken parmesan for you, Dr. Quinzelle."
Harley perked up, "Really?"
"Yes, Madame." He left before coming back with a cart with chicken parmesan on top of spaghetti. He gracefully put the cart in front of her. " Bon apetit."
"Wow thanks. I don't rememba ever havin somethin this good. Really, thanks." Harley smiled warmly, touched by the gesture.
"It is my job, Madame, Master Batman requested this for you."
"You're tha one that cooked it; you didn't have ta go through all that trouble."
"I'm paid very well to do what I do, rest assured." He gave her a small smile as she began to eat. "I will be back for your dishes later, Madame."
Harley ate slowly savoring the rich food; she'd never remembered having anything this good before… 'Maybe my mom before she died…' Harley felt happy at the thought.
Nothing was said as Alfred came back, just a warm exchange of smiles. Harley decided that she liked him, he seemed nice enough. Harley also decided to lay down, figuring that house arrest with Batman wasn't going to be too different from the way things were run at Arkham.
'Ivy's sane… I mean, sure she can get a lil moody and she can be just a bit sociopathic, but she's nice ta me…' Harley sighed. 'Why is it everyone else besides Mistah J is so nice ta me? Even Batman's neva really been especially mean; he did get me that dress after all.'
Thinking on it further, Harley realized that Batman could've been a lot rougher and less lenient , like he'd been with other villains.
'Maybe it's just cause I'ma girl. Could be, I mean Cats' not been to Arkham yet… but she did help him a few times too…'
"Madame, are you awake?" The butler's voice broke her train of thought.
Harley shot up like a Pop Tart on the bed, "Sure am."
"Well, Master Batman has given me permission to look over you if you wish to have any recreation."
"Recreation?" her interest was piqued, "Like what?"
"I know that in Arkham all they gave you were those ghastly gossip magazines and a few minutes to sit and stare at a television set."
"Yeah and they never did let us watch anything but cop shows and the news."
"What do you like to do?" Alfred seemed very friendly towards her.
"I, uh…" she blushed as it took her a moment to think before going on, "I like ta bake, and cook but I'm kinda… I don't really know much…"
"You want to learn to cook Dr. Quinzelle?" He seemed surprised.
"Yeah, Puddin's always complainin' about my cookin' so I figure I could use a lesson ah two." The butler tensed at the mention of the Joker and an awkward silence befell them. After a bit more of the silence, he gently placed handcuffs on her wrists and led her out of her cell into a secret passage which they followed until they were past a door into the kitchen. The butler handed her an apron and slipped on one for himself. "Ya really trusting of me…" Harley said as he undid her handcuffs for her.
"Master Batman has heavy security around the house." Harley didn't know if he was shooting down the trust thing or warning her in a way of politely requesting her not to try to escape.
"Oh," she took all the utensils and ingredients as he handed them to her.
There was another awkward silence between them before the butler broke it, "Tell me Dr. Quinzelle, do you plan to go back to him once the house arrest is over?"
"Who?" she asked stopping her mixing of the cookie dough.
"The Joker, ma'am."
"Oh…" she started slowly mixing again, I haven't thought about it…"
"That is why you are here you know."
"What happened ta 'most sane'?"
"It never went away, Dr. the reason you are here is not because you are insane."
"Then why?" she dropped little spoonfuls of dough onto the cookie tray.
"I will leave that to Master Batman to explain."
"Speakin' a Batsy, where is he? I haven't seen him cept once since I've been here."
"Master Batman has a life beyond his cape, you know."
Harley set up against the island in the middle of the kitchen and propped her chin on her hands, "Wonder what it's like.." Alfred gave her a flat look, "Calm down." She held her hands up, "I never asked who he was or anything.."
"I suppose divulging one or two small details should not harm too much."
"What's it like working for the big bad bat? How do ya get a gig like that? How does he trust ya?"
"Master Batman never hired me," Alfred checked the oven.
She furrowed her brow, "Whatya mean?"
"I've been with his family for years."
"I see. He's rich, in't he?"
"What draws you to that conclusion?" the butler tried, if his employer chose, to talk to her himself. He worried for Bruce, wondering if this whole thing was really a great idea.
"I've never seen a kitchen this big outta a restaurant. That and, gimme a break, I can tell you're a butler. Poor and middle class people can't usually afford a butler."
"Very astute, Dr. Quinzelle."
"Nah, I'm not a doctor anymore," she dismissively waved.
"You have earned a PhD, that makes you a doctor, does it not?"
"That's not part of who I am anymore, Mr. P."
"Posh," he offered her some tea, "Knowledge and all we've done stays with us and makes us who we are. You may have changed, Miss Quinnzelle, but who you are now has its foundation oh who you have been." He poured the tea silently and put a cup in front of her.
She took a sip and her nose wrinkled, "Sorry I've never really liked Earl Grey."
"You know your teas?" Harley nodded and took another sip to be polite, "Every lady should know of her teas." Harley stayed silent, letting the wide words of the seasoned butler sink in. Suddenly she felt slightly silly in a kitchen with her costume on, her face smeared with her clownish makeup and drinking tea with a masked English butler.
'What am I doing?' It all seemed so strange to her, like she was in some sort of dream again, losing touch. One more sip of the bitter liquid and she was brought back, "Hey, uh it's been a while since I had a shower, do ya think I could take one?"
"I could never deny a lady such a request, cleanliness is next to godliness as they say." He paused and grabbed a dish towel from a drawer, "I am sorry but you are not yet allowed to get a tour of the house, Madam. Master Batman knows how clever you can be." He tied the towel over her eyes as a blindfold and led her to a bathroom. "There are towels on the back of the latrine and a robe on the back of the door, Ma'am."
"Thanks," Harley took off the blindfold and smiled when she saw a bathroom that didn't have missing tiles and was white. She'd not seen a bathroom so clean in years.
She took off her shoes and then her costume. After taking off her hat, she reached for her mask and stopped. She caught sight of her reflection. One part of her mind shot out, 'Who are you?' Harley looked sadly at her reflection, "Who knows…"
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I Hate Everything About You