Mrs. Luthor

8

     Early this morning, police found three bodies hung from trees in Robinson Park. The scene was disastrous, and caused a lot of on looking among passing citizens. The three men found have been identified, and an arrest has been made. Christopher Weiss is currently being questioned as number one suspect in Belle Reve.

"So, how ya gonna do it?" Harley asked me, lying upside down on the couch.
"Huh, what are you talking about?" I stood by the fridge, searching for my bottle of Kentucky mash.
"How are you gonna get yourself arrested?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. Joker says you need to get yourself in jail!"
"I, uh, I don't know. That seems...I mean me? In jail?" I sounded nervous, even I knew it.
"You wanted Lexy outta there, didn't you? You have to help!"
"What happened to my Kentucky mash?"
"What? I drank it, there were like two mouthfuls left. And I suggest you don't buy no more."
"Damn it." I pulled out some strawberries. "When did we even get these?"
"Red gave them to me. She grew em' herself!" Harley started wiggling her feet at the top of the couch.
"Who?"
"Oh!" She giggled, readjusting on the couch so she was sitting up right. "Pamela. She's a friend of mine." She shrugged.
"So they're good then?"
"Do they look rotted?"
"No."
"Well!" There was a brief pause. I took the strawberries to my room and sat by my desk.

     I began organizing the darts that were scattered among the top of it. Arrested? I hadn't even thought about it. How was I going to get myself purposely arrested? It sounded like one of those things that should be made in to a book. 'How to get yourself arrested, for dummies'. I fiddled with one of the darts, spinning it between my fingertips, lost in thought. 

"Hey, Mira. You want my suggestion?" I looked at her, slightly jumping as I was pulled back in to reality.
"Yeah, I mean, I guess so." I shrugged hesitantly.
"You don't even have to do anything."
"What?" I spun around in my chair to face her. She was leaning on the door frame of my room.
"Just let word out that you killed Mercy. Come clean." Harley shrugged as if that wouldn't undermine my reputation.
"Are you insane?"
"Possibly." Harley cackled.
"I'd lose my job, my reputation, my character, my credibility."

     Harley looked at me in the same way a confused puppy would look at me. It was almost as if what I just said wasn't being registered, like I was speaking in code or something. Which, kind of made sense, since I mean, she never considers that sort of thing when she's out and about committing crimes. 

"Did you not consider that?" I asked gently.
"Does it really matter? You won't have the best of reputations when Lex gets out of jail and you're his snugglebunny!"
"I—"
"Am in love with who the world thinks is a sociopath. Yeah, I know the feeling!" She giggled, taking a seat on my bed.

     She was right. I hated to admit it, but she was right. I hadn't considered the city's perceptions on me when it came to being involved with Lex. I hadn't as his employee, and I didn't now...as whatever you'd consider us. I didn't even know. In a way, it was comforting to know I knew what the city thought of me when there were no grounds set between Lex and I. I could turn myself in. But, I'd be a classified murdered. I don't even think Lex was classified as such. He was marked with treason, he was marked with illegal importing, he was marked as mentally unstable, and he was certainly marked with identity theft for all of the phony letter he had sent to Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't classified as an indignant murderer like Harley, or Joker, were. He was a different type of criminal, one who didn't do the dirty work hands on. 

"Mira, you killed her, right? I mean, I was there, I saw it. You can't take it back, even if it was for your brother!" She exclaimed, still grinning.
"I get that." I spat.
"Lex is a scheming bastard, and you're the witty bad-ass. You and Lexy will make a good team Meers!"
My eyes widened. That was my brother's nickname for me.
"What did you call me?"
"Sorry, do you not like it? I couldn't go with your last name. Mores sounds weird, ya know?"

     There was a brief pause as I thought about something so silly. How a nickname being muttered after his death could do something as definitive as make my skin crawl. I couldn't help but think about the last time Mason had said it to me. He was doing well in treatment. He was thriving on some levels even. I sighed heavily. I had told myself coming to Gotham that I would more than likely have to make home wherever I went.
     That meant I'd have family that wasn't blood around. Perhaps family isn't something that's supposed to be static, or set. Perhaps family is chosen overtime, and overtime doesn't have to mean through blood lineage. Heck, I don't even know that the amount of time spent with someone does anymore either. Less time or more time, doesn't change who you perceive to be closest to you. You can meet someone right now, in this very moment, who cares for you more than someone you've known your whole life. I swear by it. Just look at my current roommate.

"It's fine Harley, you can call me that. I don't...I don't mind."

I rested my head in my hands and inhaled deeply to stop the tears. I heard some shuffling, Harley moving. Moving my hands from in front of my face, I saw Harley, sitting cross legged in front of me on the floor. She was making a goofy face. I smiled, causing her to giggle at herself.

"Don't be so sad!"

A tune played throughout the apartment. It sounded almost like a carousel, and had the feel of a carnival or theme park. Quick and nimble, Harley was out of my room. The music stopped.

"Hello?" I heard Harley say. So, that was what her phone sounded like. I'm totally not even surprised.

I went back to organizing my darts. I spun a kryptonite enhanced dart in my hand as I bit on a strawberry. I pondered to myself all the things I had wanted to do with Mason once he was released. None of which involved any more of this stuff. Now I was surrounded by it, even wearing it around my neck for sentimental purposes. There was a knock on my door frame. I spun around in my chair, still eating a strawberry. Harley stood there, smiling widely with her hands on her cheeks.

"Mista J says they're in. Slipknot, Deadshot, Diablo, they're in Belle Reve. And Rick, Rick's patrolling. It's your move Meers."

I froze, swallowing nervously.

"You look like you just swallowed a canary! It was a strawberry, relaaax." She put her hand on my shoulder.
"What are you and Joker going to do?"
"We're your ride to safety when you all get out."
"You can't get yourself in? You want me in there instead. I have never escaped from prison in my life. I've never even been in one! You guys are pros!"
She shushed me like you would a child. "We'd be sent straight to the asylum,not there. We're too kooky." She laughed.