In DC universe as Batman

"Bruce, there's something I need to talk to you about," Tim said, gently brushing his hand across the Death Angel's coffin. "It's about Zsasz."

"You remember how he attacked my school—Gotham Heights High School? The girl you sent, the one called Cheshire Cat, brought him in."

Tim continued, "Zsasz claimed he wasn't working for anyone, and from what I've dug up, he wasn't lying. But I don't believe in coincidences."

"Out of all the high schools in Gotham, why target mine? His timing and methods were completely different from his usual pattern. Someone had to be pulling the strings—Two-Face? Riddler? I can't pin it down yet."

He stood. "But whoever it was, they might know who I really am..."

Then, with a shake of his head, Tim's tone cooled. "Forget it. It's just a theory. I've got no proof. Let's drop it."

"Bruce, what was it you wanted to say?"

Bruce frowned.

According to the comics, Zsasz was supposed to attack an all-girls' school—not the high school where Robin was enrolled.

What changed the storyline?

…Shit. Don't tell me it was me again.

There wasn't enough information. Bruce gave up thinking about it.

He said, "Let's talk about that later. For now, I need you to come with me to Gotham Midtown."

Later…

This was Gotham's newest hotspot: the Super babes restaurant. After the bizarre Bat incident earlier that week, the owner had cleverly added a new special—the "Bat man's bright delight"—and it was a hit.

"Okay, we've got one Harley Quinn Burger, one Black Canary Salad, and a Robin smoothie!"

A waitress dressed like Harley Quinn delivered the meals. But one sleazy customer reached out toward her backside.

"...Keep your hands to yourself, tubby—or you're gonna lose one."

"Hey, show some respect," one of the two cops by the window snapped. "We may not be able to handle giant bats, but we can handle you." (Policeman are from the earlier chapter)

"Hah."

Of course, this was Gotham. The more cops wanted people to behave, the more they'd misbehave.

The guy still reached out.

The younger officer gritted his teeth. "Boris, I swear, I've had it—"

WHAM!

The man screamed as the waitress lifted him with one hand and slammed him to the ground. A sickening crunch—his arm snapped like a twig.

The Harley Quinn waitress dusted off her hands, even though there was no dust.

"Anything else I can help you with, boys?"

"You crazy bitch! You broke my goddamn arm!"

---

Hours later, after her shift…

Harley Quinn left the restaurant, still playing a crossword puzzle. But she didn't head home.

Instead, she took the subway into downtown Gotham and climbed the stairs to a worn old apartment building.

Knock knock knock!

Three knocks at the door.

"Oh?"

Harley looked up and spotted a leaf poking out through the doorframe.

"Someone's gonna notice that," she muttered, plucking the leaf off with a pale, delicate hand.

No one answered.

So she pulled out a key and opened the door with a creak.

From the outside, nothing seemed off. But once the door opened—

Plants. Everywhere.

Thick, green ivy sprawled across the entire apartment. Tree limbs curled through the walls and ceiling like she'd just walked into a jungle.

Harley planted her fists on her hips.

"That's enough!"

Rustle rustle rustle…

The vines slowly retracted, revealing the room's mysterious occupant.

Or perhaps... plant.

"Geh geh geh geh geh geh geh!"

A massive, sentient man-eating flower loomed from the center of the room, laughing maniacally.

"Harley! You're here! Ivy told me to tell you—this is your new home!"

"Of course, there's no electricity, no running water, and no gas—since Ivy hasn't paid rent in over six months!"

"…"

Harley remained silent.

The chomper type plant—Frank—added quickly, "Ahaha, I know what you're about to ask. Let me explain—"

"Stop. Let me ask. And Frank, can you maybe not wave your limbs around like you're in a Broadway musical?"

Frank froze mid-sway.

"Oh, I thought you'd like the drama."

"First off—I broke up with the Joker. Second—I've changed. I got myself a job, at that dumb Superbabes place. As a waitress."

"Third—I'm totally sane now. And I go by Harleen Quinzel, not Harley Quinn."

Harley squeezed her cheeks into a twisted smile, then yanked her face back into a blank expression. Not a trace of the old mad jester remained.

"Fourth—I've been cured. The docs at Arkham even gave me a bunch of weird awards. And no—I wasn't released with red. If I weren't completely broke, I wouldn't even be here…" (Harley calls ivy red in arkham games)

She stopped herself.

"Ugh. Whatever. It's all weird."

Harley looked around at the plant-covered disaster zone.

"Didn't red say he hired the neighbor kid to help clean up and water the plants? So what's with all this—"

HURGH!

Frank suddenly vomited up a skeleton. The bones clattered to the floor, still wearing a leather backpack that had clearly resisted digestion.

"Holy shit, Frank—what the hell?!"

"I had no choice, Harley."

Frank sounded hurt.

"After Ivy left, the kid did okay at first. Cleaned up, watered the plants. But after a month, he started stealing. So…"

"What the hell! Didn't his parents notice he was missing—"

HURGH!

HURGH!

Two more skeletons hit the ground. One man, one woman. Harley didn't need a name tag.

"Goddamn it, Frank. If the landlord finds out—"

HURGH!

A third skeleton appeared, this one newer. Bits of flesh still clung to its bones. A cane clattered to the floor.

Frank coughed up a handgun next.

"Not my fault! The kid's parents were mobsters. They came in here armed and ready to shoot. Total scumbags."

"The landlord had already repossessed the apartment. Took most of Ivy's plants. Whatever. But then he tried to turn this place into a meth lab. So I had to… you know. Take care of it."

"…"

Harley was speechless.

"Fine," she said wearily. "I'm just a regular person now. And this is the only place I've got. So I'll stay here."

"Now hopefully there's no more crazy bullsh—"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Someone pounded on the door.

A voice shouted from outside:

"Open up—Batman!"

"…Goddamn it."