The Titans went to find her at that rental apartment building in New York. After all, she was the landlady.
After leaving Gotham, Harley had taken a job at a psychological counseling clinic, but she had not lasted long. The monotonous, tedious office routine made her itch all over, and the people who came to see her were far too normal.
Maybe the clinic had simply been in the wrong location. A store could operate in a residential neighborhood, but a psychology clinic apparently could not.
Most of the people who came to consult her were elderly men and women. Their problems were usually the same: their children were too busy with work to visit them, so they felt lonely.
Calling it seeing a psychologist was less accurate than saying they were paying someone to chat with. The money had been good, sure, but Harley found it far too dull.
Not one of those old men or women had been a serial killer on the run for decades, nor had any of them been a genuine lunatic with latent perverse tendencies.
Everything had been too ordinary, too bland. So after about a month, she quit and went back to being a full-time landlord.
And being a full-time landlord meant lying around every day. Before Suicide Squad had dragged her away, she had spent most of her time lounging in her apartment, going out with Poison Ivy for beauty treatments or sunbathing, or staying home to browse the internet and watch TV dramas.
She thought that kind of life was better than going to work.
"Her? She's not here. She said she went out with Deathstroke." The one who opened the door was Eggy. This former villain was still a little afraid when he saw the Teen Titans, but he quickly