Reformation (Title Subject to Change)

BY : humdrum07
Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Batman: The Animated Series
Dragon prints: 8347
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor do I make money from this story.


Okay, before reading I should let you know that this is a mix of the movies, the cartoons, and the comics (which I know little of)... okay, let us proceed.


Bruce grabbed the paper in front of him as he drank his sat at the dining room table, drinking his black coffee during lunch. Early this morning resulted in a rather boring meeting at Wayne Enterprises therefore having no time for an actual lunch, or to read the paper. Usually he would skim through the newspaper, speed reading the articles and headlines to get his daily fix of the local news, but something on the front page caught his eye leading him to spend more time actually reading it. It was something that he never thought would happen...not in a million years. There, in bold black letters read, 'JOKER FOUND DEAD IN HIDEOUT'. He couldn't believe it, the one man he had been fighting practically his whole life... was dead. He felt horrible, but he could say he was glad, though a part of him was... disappointed? Not that he wanted to kill Joker himself, he did not kill, but he couldn't help but question, 'what now?'.

After reading the article; which unsurprisingly, did not give any other information aside from the fact that he was found in his semi-dilapidated hideout, he neatly folded the paper and returned to his black tea. He seemed calm, but inside, his mind was a veritable war ground. First, he needed to confirm this rumor... because until Batman confirmed it, it was just a rumor. Lord knows that many a false article had been printed in the Gotham City Newspaper.

“Alfred,” he called out to his loyal butler and friend.

“Yes, master Bruce?” Alfred entered the room wearing a pearly white apron, showing signs of just a few stains where mustard had fallen in the past. Apparently he was fixing his own lunch.

“Cancel the rest of my meetings... I need to go see Gordon.”

“Yes master Bruce.” Bruce watched as Alfred disappeared into the kitchen to no doubt notify Lucius Fox and any other important meeting members that he would not be attending. He didn't want to sit through another boring meeting anyway. He briefly wondered why he was still a businessman if he hated many aspects of it... but he did have to keep up appearances.

Alfred came into the room minutes later with a plate of pasta and that silly white apron was absent. “It's done sir.” He placed the plate on the table.

“Thank you Alfred,” he handed the paper to him in a way of letting him know what was going on. Alfred's eyes only widened in surprise for a moment before reaching their normal impassive stare. “I may not be back until late at night,” and with a graceful nod in farewell, he grabbed his soiled dishes to throw into the dishwasher and left that wing of the house entirely, leaving Alfred behind to much on his pasta.


“So it's true?” Batman stood against a shady corner in the Gotham City Police Department with his arms crossed over his chest, and posture straight. Commissioner Jim Gordon sat at his desk, papers littering the surface.

“Yes, my men and I found him this morning around 7:00.”

Batman walked closer to the desk, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “You find my enemy dead and you didn't think to tell me first?”

“He's not only your enemy... he's Gotham's enemy...” Gordon responded. He may have imagined it, but it seemed as though Batman rolled his eyes. As soon as the thought popped up in his head, he mentally chided himself for thinking something so stupid. One... he couldn't see through the mask, two... Batman DID NOT roll his eyes like a pissed off teenager.

“And as for not telling you... we wanted to make sure it wasn't a trap.” Gordon sighed and opened up the file on Joker, containing various pictures of his dead body. “We figured he really is dead... but doctors are taking precautions. You never know with Joker. He could have infused himself with laughing gas or worse...” he handed Batman the pictures.

“You still should have notified me,” he glanced at the pictures briefly before throwing them back onto the commissioner’s desk. Joker looked pretty... well... dead.

Gordon just ignored him. He knew that Batman would still be a little miffed about that... but what's done is done. “Our guess is that he OD'd... on what drug, we can't tell you yet. Not until the autopsy's finished.”


Gordon shrugged, “We did find a needle... but that was it. It looked like, whatever it was, he had used it all up before his death.”

“How long does the autopsy take?”

“You know that since this is the Joker we're talking about... it should take a little longer than usual,” Gordon started packing all the pictures back into Joker's file. “As I told you before, the doctors are being extra cautious. They're wearing heavy duty gas masks and everything,” the file was placed in a letter bin on his desk. “I need you to do something though...”

“Why not ask one of your cops?”

“Many reasons. One... I've still got a lot of corrupt cops around the precinct. We're still weeding through them. Two... I hear this person has turned a new leaf. Not many cops do well with reformed criminals... especially not mine. And three... I think you're better suited for this... job. Even though she's gone legit, she may still be dangerous.”


“You know her...” he opened up another file from his drawer and handed it to Batman who scanned over the pages upon pages of notes. Finally his masked eyes fell on the pictures paper clipped to the files. Both pictures were labeled, Arkham Asylum, though he could tell they were somewhat before and after photos.

“Harley Quinn...” Batman looked at the photos once again. The first depicted her with her disheveled jester's hat, smeared white grease paint and sloppy red lipstick. He remembered that night when he had apprehended her and the Joker. He only hoped, but never knew for certain that she would actually reform. She was unlike any other criminal he had met. Well... maybe she was right up there with Selina Kyle, but could he really call Catwoman a criminal? A thief maybe, but when constantly confronted with thieves like Penguin, Two Face, the now deceased Joker, and others planning on bombing half of Gotham, thievery pretty much paled in comparison. Besides, Catwoman had helped him on more than one occasion... she was like an anti-hero.

His thoughts returned to Harley and how he had hoped she would turn over a new leaf. Every time they fought, he would think about how sad it was to have a once world-renowned psychiatrist, fall so low. A woman as smart, and beautiful... yes she was beautiful without all that paint, should not have been wasting her time with the Joker. So, it surprised him that after so many years at Arkham and Blackgate, she was finally free and announced a start on a new life to him. She had given him her costume to do with as he pleased and then left. Never to be heard from again. He never thought he would see her either... until now.

“Harleen Quinzel, age 30, formerly Joker's henchgirl Harley Quinn... now works in Blüdhaven at the Lazlo Club performing as Harlequin.”

“The Lazlo Club?” What was she doing at a strip club?

“One of my undercovers was sent to trail her after seeing her here in Gotham, told me she worked at that strip joint in downtown Blüdhaven. Now you see why I need you on the job. Even my good cops aren't the most morally upstanding citizens. I can't trust them to separate business with pleasure.”

“Okay, so you want me to go to this club and ask her questions?”

“Precisely. She's a suspect. She could have wanted revenge on Joker... who knows.”

“Revenge... for what?”

“You tell me,” he reached for the file on Harley Quinn and watched as Batman shut the manila folder and gave it back to Gordon. “You and the doctors knew about her bruises and cuts... I doubt those were given to her by you.”

He nodded, letting Gordon know that he knew very well about all of the bruises; the abuse she suffered at Joker's hands. Still, he always thought she would go back to him. She did before.

“We can't very well wait for the autopsy... that may take weeks. We need some answers now. Just do what you do to get them,” Gordon tapped the manila folder on his desk before returning it to the drawer from where it came. All of this took just a moment; however, Batman was already gone when Gordon looked back up, meaning to say something unimportant to him. He just sighed in mild ire, he hated when Batman just disappeared. It was annoying and rather unnerving. Gordon contemplated sewing bells into his cape – anything that jingled really – so that he knew when Batman arrived and departed.


A sandy blonde haired woman wove through the throngs of horny men, expertly balancing a large silver tray full of discarded beer bottles on one hand. She had already finished her dance on the stage as Harlequin. There was no point in using any other name since most people knew who she was. It wasn't her fault if some dumb fuck didn't put two and two together, realizing that Harlequin was Harley Quinn.

Her destination now was the kitchen to throw the beer bottles away and restock her tray with more, but a sickening sight – and an all to common sight at a strip club – deterred her from her goal. A middle aged man sat in one of the booths, pulling and tugging at his penis, which was mostly hidden by his hairy belly. Harleen scoffed in disgust as she approached the booth, putting on an innocent smile. She hated having to be polite to the scum that frequented the bar. If she had enough money for rent, she would leave this shit hole disguised as an upscale place. The owner had very strict rules about how the patrons should conduct themselves.

“Sir,” she placed the tray on the table, “Sir!” she yelled again. No way in hell was she going to touch his shoulder to snap him out of it. She would like to keep her hands free of scumbag germs.

The man slowly opened his green eyes, ready to tell off anyone who had ruined his fun, only to look into dark blue eyes. Quickly, he glanced up and down, at the woman's body and realized that it was the hottie that had danced up on stage not so long ago. “If it isn't Harlequin...” he leered at her. “That babe up there ain't as pretty as you.” He looked intently at her, not at all stopping his frantic pace on his penis.

That only further disgusted Harley, but she didn't let it show. “Sir... our policy states no public indecency from our patrons,” her accent was reminiscent of Harleen Quinzel before she had become Harley Quinn, though with remnants of the latter.

The large man gave a husky laugh, grabbing the cigar in his mouth with his free hand and placing it on the table. “You girls get to gyrate and take off your clothes up there...”

“That's different... we're paid to do so. Even then, we don't have sex up on stage or masturbate in front of our clients. I have to ask you to stop, please.”

“You're killin' my hardon doll.” He made a move to grab her arm with the hand that had been jerking his penis and succeeded in pulling her forward, due to the fact that she was trying not to pay attention to the alcohol and tobacco on his breath.

'Eeew!' came her childish thought. She tried pulling away, but he had a surprisingly hard grip on her.

“Tell you what? I'll stop... only if you blow me.”

'Only if I blow you up... gladly' but of course she knew what he meant, and as much as she wanted to inflict some sort of damage on him, she didn't have her gun, or her hammer, or her bombs... she wasn't prepared at all. Only dressed in a tight white blouse that clearly showed off the red lacy bra under her shirt. Her mid section was completely bare, and her mismatched black and red tights peaked out of a modestly tight black skirt.

“You pig!” she yelled.

“Aww....” he released her, “Is the infamous Harlequin a prude?” the man laughed, his yellow teeth shining through the dim light of the club.

“I'll show ya prudish!” her full blown Harley Quinn accent returned as she pulled her hand away, forming a fist, and clocking him in the face. She didn't care at that moment that she would be severely reprimanded... again. This was the third time that she had punched or kicked a patron. It wasn't her fault that these stupid men liked to grope her or the other dancers. Still, her boss seemed to think so.

She just sighed and looked up to see her boss's furious stare from behind the booth to which Harley just laughed nervously and waved her hand at him, “Didn't see ya there, boss.”

“In my office... now!”


Okay, I like this pairing... a lot. Probably more than Batman/Catwoman or Batman/Wonder woman. Even so, I didn't think I would write any fan fiction for this fandom since I thought Batman fan fiction would be difficult to write and I also haven't seen the show or read the comic in years. But after reading some Harley/Bats fics, this just popped into my head.

Hope you guys enjoy!


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