The base was quiet with the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Joker was sitting at the head of the dinner table staring at what could be his newest problem.
Jason Todd.
Jason was sitting at the other side of the table.
"That's...Harleen's seat..." Joker said dangerously.
"Hm?" Jason just murmured.
"You heard me."
Right on time, Harley arrived with tray of homemade food.
And sit close to her husband cheerfully.
"What's with the grumpy face?" She raised an eyebrow.
"You know why."
"Ooooh you are hungry!"
"No."
Harley turned to Jason.
"You can serve yourself sweetheart, I hope you like my cooking!"
"Serving a little thie-" Joker started.
Harley Quinn kicked his leg hard under the table.
"Jason, his name is Jason Todd." She says sweetly.
Joker yelped under his breath.
Jason gave a little chuckle
Harley looked at Jason giving him a stare.
Jason ate faster.
Harley looks at Cookie.
"Cookie sweetheart, could ya prepare a room for him?"
Cookie looked nervously at Joker and Joker just looked back like 'Don't look at me!'
"Sure boss." And Cookie goes.
J clears his throat loudly.
"Harley, sweetie, pumpkin, light of my day, moonlight of my pale skin... Could i talk to you in privatE?"
Harleen knew what was coming but didn't care.
"Keep eating dear." She says to Jason.
She stands up and grabs the handles of her husband wheelchair and they went to a private room.
Closing the door behind them.
"Harleen, what the hell you are doing?"
"Given a boy a home."
"The most dangerous home in Gotham?"
She walks around him and grabs his face squeezing his cheeks.
"A home that nobody would dare enter to hurt him!"
Then Joker spoke quietly.
"...I don't think I can do it."
Harley's expression softened.
"Do what?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he watched a distant police siren paint the buildings red and blue.
"...Raise him."
Harley remained silent, letting him continue.
"I think you're wrong."
"I know."
"I know you're wrong."
He gave a tired chuckle.
"You always do."
She kissed the top of his head.
"I usually am."
He looked down at his gloved hands.
"They're stained."
Harley frowned.
"...Honey."
"No."
He slowly removed one glove.
Old scars crossed his fingers.
Fresh cuts hadn't completely healed.
