Harley's transformation: From madwoman to queen!

The president's office at Chaos Direction Security and Venture Capital.

Harley Quinn sprawled across a mahogany desk worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, using a gold pen to draw silly Joker doodles on the latest Wayne Enterprises financial report.

Sunlight streamed through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, making her expensive Chanel business suit gleam.

None of it could dispel the frustration in her eyes.

She got up and paced the office, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor.

Everything here was too clean, too quiet, too orderly.

So clean she wanted to cover the walls in paint; so quiet she wanted to smash those obnoxious windows with her Baseball Bat; so orderly she wanted to set off a bomb and hear the glorious symphony of shattering glass and screaming crowds.

She had followed Link out of Arkham to chase greater chaos and excitement.

Together, they had robbed and fought, toppled Penguin from his Throne, then conquered Sionis Steel Mill through bloodshed.

Back then, every day had brought an adrenaline rush.

And now?

She was trapped in this gilded cage, facing reports she couldn't understand and a parade of insincere "business partners" in suits.

Even the men who had once been so unruly now dressed respectably, fumbled with neckties, and talked about "return on investment" and "market risk assessments."

"Sweetheart!"

Harley finally snapped. She stormed into Link's office next door, where he was holding a meeting, and kicked the door open.

Iron Spike and the other company executives were reporting to Link.

At the sight of Harley, they all went dead silent.

"This place is so boring! I'm going moldy!" Harley planted her hands on her hips like an angry cat. "When are we pulling another big job? We could blow up GCPD headquarters! Or paint the mayor's head green!"

Cold sweat broke out on Iron Spike's forehead. He moved to stop her, but a glance from Link held him back.

Link didn't get angry. With a smile, he paused the meeting and sent everyone out.

Then he walked up to Harley and gently straightened her slightly rumpled collar.

"I thought you'd enjoy being president," Link said softly.

"President? You mean sitting here signing piles of wastepaper?" Harley curled her lip. "I'd have more fun brawling with those crazy women in Arkham."

Link looked at her, amusement flickering in his eyes.

He knew Harley Quinn, his sharpest razor, shouldn't be left on display in a beautiful sheath.

"You're right, Harley."

"This position really doesn't suit you."

Link took her hand and led her to the company's organizational chart.

Her photograph hung in the president's position.

Link took her photograph down.

Harley's eyes dimmed for a moment. She thought Link was pushing her out of his inner circle.

Instead, Link drew a box at the very top of the chart, above everyone else and separate from every department.

He carefully put Harley's photograph up there.

"What's this?" Harley asked, puzzled.

"The Internal Discipline and Special Operations Department." Link tapped the box. "A department answerable only to me, with the highest level of authority."

"As our business grows, some of our own people will break the rules. Some competitors will refuse to take the hint."

Link turned and gazed into Harley's eyes.

"Business methods are too gentle. I need someone to protect the company's 'Order' in a more 'direct' way. Root out traitors, silence enemies, and gather intelligence from the gutters."

"This department answers to no one else and follows no rules. Its only rules are yours."

There was a hint of seduction in Link's voice.

"I need a queen to rule every dark corner of my empire. Harley, will you be my queen?"

Harley Quinn froze.

She looked at the position above every other department, then into Link's deep eyes.

Her long-dormant heart began to race again.

The tedious reports and phony meetings vanished.

In their place came absolute power, unrestrained freedom, and the scent of blood and chaos she knew and loved best.

"I love it!" Harley's face broke into a brilliant, feverish smile. "So what's the queen's first assignment? Whose legs do you want me to break?"

"Your first assignment," Link said, handing her a list, "is to make these small-time bosses still working for Falcone and the Maroni Family understand who Gotham's future master is."

Harley took the list, licked her lips, and headed for the door.

She shrugged off the restrictive business suit, revealing her classic red-and-black bodysuit underneath, grabbed the Baseball Bat propped in the corner, and slung it over her shoulder.

The mad Harley Quinn was back.

No. She had been reborn.

Late that night, in Link's penthouse apartment.

Done with her "official business," Harley lay contentedly on the sofa, carrying the faint scent of blood.

She gazed at Gotham City's glittering nightscape, then at Link, who was working through documents.

This man was growing more powerful by the day, and harder to fathom.

He was no longer the prisoner who had needed her help to escape Arkham.

With a flick of his fingers, he could topple a criminal empire, then turn around and build a business.

His easy command of events and unfathomable cunning stirred an unfamiliar awe in Harley, along with a trace of unease deep inside her.

She was afraid that one day she would fall behind him and be abandoned again, just as Joker had abandoned her.

"Sweetheart..." Harley's voice was unusually subdued. "What do you really want? To be emperor of Gotham? Or emperor of the world?"

Link set down the documents and sat beside her.

He didn't answer the grand question. He simply cupped her face in his hands.

"Harley, do you remember Arkham?"

"When we crawled out of that Hell, I had nothing. Back then, you were the only one beside me."

His gaze was sincere and unwavering.

"Iron Spike and the others follow me for my wealth and power. Those Wall Street elites see what I can do for them. Only you saw Link when he had nothing."

"No matter what I become or what I seek, half of this empire will always be yours. You're not my subordinate. You're not my queen."

Link leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.

"You're my first and only partner."

Harley trembled slightly. Her eyes reddened at once.

The word "Puddin'" that had lived in her heart for years, the mark Joker had left on her, was finally erased.

She raised her head and gazed at the man before her.

From that day on, there was only one "sweetheart" in her world.

His name was Link.