Harley's Transformation: From Madwoman to Queen!

Chaos Direction Security and Venture Capital, president's office.

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

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

But none of it could dispel the irritation on her face.

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 a Baseball Bat; so orderly she wanted to set off a bomb and hear the lovely symphony of shattering glass and screaming crowds.

She had followed Link out of Arkham in pursuit of 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 brought an adrenaline rush.

But now?

She was trapped in this gilded cage, facing incomprehensible reports and a pack of suit-wearing, insincere "business partners" every day.

Even the once-defiant guys were dressing themselves up in ties and muttering about "return on investment" and "market risk assessments."

"Sweetheart!"

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

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

Everyone fell silent at the sight of Harley.

"This place is so boring! I'm going moldy!" Harley planted her hands on her hips like an angry cat. "When are we going to pull 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 started forward to stop her, but one look from Link held him back.

Link did not get angry. Smiling, he paused the meeting and sent everyone out.

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

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

"President? You mean sitting here signing piles of scrap paper?" Harley curled her lip. "I'd have more fun fighting those crazy broads back in Arkham."

Link looked at her, amusement flickering in his eyes.

He knew Harley Quinn, his sharpest razor, did not belong in a beautiful sheath as an ornament.

"You're right, Harley."

"This position really doesn't suit you."

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

Harley's photo hung in the president's spot.

Link took it down.

Harley's eyes dimmed for an instant. She thought he 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 fixed Harley's photo inside it.

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

"The Internal Discipline and Special Operations Department." Link tapped the box. "A department that answers only to me and has the highest authority."

"The bigger our business gets, the more people we'll have on our own side who don't follow the rules. And there will always be competitors who refuse to take the hint."

Link turned and held Harley's gaze.

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

"This department won't answer to anyone else or follow anyone else's rules. Its only rules will be yours."

There was a tempting edge to 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 fathomless eyes.

Her long-dormant heart began to race again.

The tedious reports and phony meetings vanished.

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

"I like it!" A brilliant, feverish smile spread across Harley's face. "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 belongs to."

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

She stripped off the restrictive business suit, revealing her classic red-and-black bodysuit beneath. Grabbing the Baseball Bat propped in the corner, she slung it over her shoulder.

The crazed Harley Quinn was back.

No. She had been reborn.

Late that night, in Link's penthouse.

Harley lay contentedly on the sofa after handling her "business," a faint scent of blood clinging to her.

She looked out at Gotham City's glittering nightscape, then at Link as he worked through documents.

This man was growing stronger and harder to fathom by the day.

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

He could topple a criminal empire with a flick of his fingers, then build a business empire almost overnight.

His effortless command and unfathomable cunning inspired an unfamiliar awe in Harley, along with a quiet unease.

She feared that one day she would fail to keep up with him and he would cast her aside, just as Joker had.

"Sweetheart..." Harley's voice was uncharacteristically subdued. "What... do you really want? To rule Gotham? Or the whole world?"

Link set down the documents and sat beside her.

He did not answer that grand question. He simply cradled her face in his hands.

"Harley, do you remember Arkham?"

"When we crawled out of that hellhole, I had nothing. Back then, you were the only one by my side."

His gaze was earnest and unwavering.

"Iron Spike and the others follow me for my wealth and power. The Wall Street elites see what they can gain from me. Only you saw Link when he had nothing."

"No matter what I become or what I set out to claim, half of this empire will always be yours. You aren't my subordinate. You aren't my queen."

Link leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.

"You're my first partner. And my only one."

Harley shivered, her eyes instantly reddening.

That name she had carried in her heart for years—"Puddin'"—that mark Joker had left on her, was finally erased.

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

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

His name was Link.