Disclaimer: Characters are property of D.C. Comics; I receive no financial gain from writing this.

A/N: Harley Quinn is based on her portrayal in Brian Azzarello's "The Joker."

"Well it's 3a.m. I'm out here driving again
Through the wicked winding streets of my world"

The music drummed in as the blonde raced to center stage, grasping the metal pole stained by oil and sweat of the many women who had used it before, and swinging her body around it. Her hair was in pigtails which bobbed about her head. She was dressed in only a red sequin bra and matching panties, garters and shoes. Around her waist was a very short, sheer black skirt accented with diamond patterned appliqués on the front and rear. She grasped the pole high above her head and threw her legs up in front of her, catching the pole and wrapping them around it before letting go with her hands. She arched her back in a controlled descent and hung upside down. She reached her hands up to her thighs and slowly dragged them down her legs, crossing them as they came past her waist and then letting them fall brushing the floor with her fingertips.

"I take a wrong turn break it but I'm too far gone
I've got a siren on my tale and that's not the fine
I'm looking for"

She was impressive to watch now that he'd bothered to take the time to do so. The men in her audience were there to shamelessly ogle her and stuff her garter with bills and her pussy with their dicks if they could afford it.

"I see a stairway so I follow it down
Into the belly of a whale

Where my secrets echo all around"

He was there for none of those reasons. Among other things, he was checking in on his ten-large investment and deciding on what she could do to earn that money. Since his encounter with the woman she had been burning up the stage time at the Iceberg Lounge and reportedly trying to get clean.

She was getting ready to bolt, and he couldn't have that until he'd gotten what he needed from her.

"You know me now but to do better than that
You've got to follow me
Boy I'm trying to show you where I'm at"

He checked his watch and then glanced back up at the sound of wolf whistles from the crowd as she grabbed the pole and did a back-flip from it, landing solidly on her feet. He raised a brow in interest of her athleticism. For a coked out stripper, Harley Quinn was a talented woman.

"Hey pretty
Don't you want to take a ride with me?
Through my world"

His intent had been to kill the "inside guy" one of his men, Marty, had brought into the fold in order to facilitate his entrance to the mob summit in the kitchen of the Iceberg Lounge. Cobblepot had emphatically refused Joker's admittance to the party so he'd had to come up with some other way to gain entry. Marty had not only provided that entry but also inside information that only someone close to one of the mob heads could obtain. Joker had been intrigued, but he didn't need to keep around someone who had sold out his own boss.

"Hey pretty
Don't you want to kick and slide with me
Through my world"

"I told Harley it would be worth ten grand to get you in." Marty had chuckled to him while they stood in the kitchen of one of his other men. Marty was laughing of course because he knew that Harley was screwed.

Joker hadn't been happy with the arrangement as well as having to add a random body to the mix. Once he was inside he would drop Harley where he stood and go about his business.

He later learned that Marty had been laughing because he'd also pulled a fast one on him.

"Well I've got a mind full of wicked designs
I've got a non-stop-hole in my head-imagination"

He'd pushed through the door and had been retrieving his Cupid OTF knife from his coat when he heard a woman's voice gasp. He glanced around for this Harley and then turned back to the door to find a petite blonde staring up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Harley?" He asked and cocked his head to one side, narrowing his eyes at her. She smiled at him nervously.

"Yeah, that's me, Harley Quinn." She'd replied in a sweet voice.

Her long blonde hair spilled around her shoulders and against the deep red baby doll dress she wore. She wore dark lipstick and eyeliner, her legs clad in black thigh high stockings and she wore red low-heeled shoes.

She was beautiful and most likely a kept-woman of one of the mob leaders.

He found himself drowning in his own laughter.

"I'm in a building that has two thousand floors
And when they all fall down
I think you know it's you they're falling for"

After the summit, his mind had swum in anger. From Maroni calling him a "two-bit whack job" in his smug voice to Gambol calling him a "Freak" to his face and then putting a bounty on his head. Things could have gone worse, sure. He could have missed his mark with the pencil. He could have tripped on the blonde hunkered outside the kitchen door and blown himself up. He could have been shot in the back by one of the mob thugs, or left in the alley by his own men.

In the end things had worked out and it had been due to the assistance to the "inside guy" he'd meant to kill. The girl he now watched through the one-way glass in Cobblepot's office as she danced.

"I can't forget I am a sole architect
I built the shadows here

I built the crown of thorns I fear"

He'd rewarded her for her efforts as well as to save face due to his idiot's promises. He'd returned to the henchmen's apartment only to find Marty dead on the kitchen floor and the other men babbling about a murderous stripper. He was just going to break the guy's arm. Marty had to be punished, but wanted to keep him around for another job.

Harley had exacted her vengeance upon him before he'd gotten the chance, which had both surprised and amused Joker.

"You know me now but to do better than that"

Somehow, she was Maroni's mistress. She hadn't stricken him as a vapid airhead, like most of these girls did.

"You've got to follow me
Boy I'm trying to show you where I'm at"

On the surface she was quite lovely, and an overall kind lady. She was nice to everyone she interacted with and was a good listener. It was not just for show, in another life she would have been good working with people. In this life it helped her extract as much cash as she could from the men she paid attention to, if only for a short while. Beneath she was a sad case. She lived from day and drowned her sorrows with drugs and alcohol. The only thing she had going for her was her talents in dance and in the bedroom.

She was bright though and had been quick on her feet and keenly observant. And she hadn't looked at him with disgust as most women did.

She had observed him discreetly and looked him in the eye, a feat most found nearly impossible to achieve.

"Hey pretty
Don't you want to take a ride with me?
Through my world"

In her tiny apartment he'd found books, not cheap romance novels. Literature of worth and prizes of gymnastic ability scattered among them. He realized this was a woman who had lost herself and her self-worth somewhere along the way as she had tumbled from her ivory tower and into the seedy underbelly of Gotham. She wasn't a traitorous hired hand, only a woman who had decided that she no longer wanted to live the life of drugs and booze, taking off her clothes for money and lying beneath pigs like Maroni while they got off.

"Hey pretty
Don't you want to kick and slide with me
Through my world"

She was a resource he could exploit, so entrenched with the mob that they would never suspect her involvement with him. And in the end, she would thank him.

"Hey pretty
My pretty baby
Rock it through my world"

He glanced away from the glass briefly as the door opened and Cobblepot entered. The short, rotund man sported a dark blue suit and a monocle which Joker always thought hilarious.

"You're late." Joker said as he looked back at the smiling blonde who was crawling across the stage before rolling onto her back and reaching out, but not looking at anyone in particular. He wondered where she was in her head, it definitely wasn't here.

"Business" Cobblepot said unapologetically. "You have a nice prize on your head, Joker." He said as he followed Joker's gaze.

"The mob is broke" Joker smirked, "which is why I stepped in to offer up my services."

"You've really pissed off Gambol." Cobblepot said sitting down.

"He's jealous because I'm a better dressed man." Joker replied straightening his sleeves. Cobblepot laughed; the sound odd and birdlike.

"Maroni wouldn't be too happy to see you eyeing his girl like that." Cobblepot said pouring whiskey for each of them. Joker downed his and then looked at the glass contemplatively.

"Hey, now can't you feel me longing?"

"It's the clown thing, isn't it? Well to each his own. At least Gotham can rest easy that you won't be trolling birthday parties looking for love." Cobblepot smirked while Joker downed his whiskey. Joker slammed the glass down and shot a dark look at the other man. Cobblepot raised his brows, his monocle nearly popping out.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Joker." Cobblepot said raising his hands defensively. After a tense moment, Joker laughed and Cobblepot nervously joined him.

"Hey, now can't you feel me?"

"Oh no, of course not," Joker shook his head.

"Feel me now"

"I have some upset clientele and I want to know who let you in the club." Oswald said cutting directly to the heart of the matter.

"Perhaps you should ask Lau's crack security staff. They had a metal detector and everything!" Joker chuckled fanning out his hands with mock amazement.

"So what, you put on that getup and now you think you're some kind of badass?" Oswald said sarcastically.

"It's all about a man's sense of self-worth," Joker intoned. "Like one may question how much worth a man has if he lets his woman earn her living taking her clothes off for other men?" Joker said pouring some more deep amber liquid into his glass. "Oh, yeah," Joker snickered before taking a drink.

"Maroni has a guy looking into your, affairs." Oswald peered sideways at Joker.

"How is he paying him? In singles he got from his girlfriend?" Joker asked and then chuckled darkly.

"I don't need to draw undue negative attention or scrutiny on my establishment. Just give me your guys' name, and we can call it even." Oswald demanded, impatiently.

"How much is this worth to Maroni and what does he have on you that makes you so nervous?" Joker said, glancing at the woman on stage again.

"Everyone has something to hide, Joker. Even you." Oswald fixed his eyes directly on Jokers'.

"You're gonna owe me in the end, Oswald." Joker said pointing at the other man with his glass.

"How you figure? You're just one…clown. You're gonna take all these guys out and hold down the fort with your thugs and maniacs?" Cobblepot chuckled as Joker emptied his glass.

"I see a place for you in management." Joker grinned showing his yellowed teeth. "You haven't tried to screw me over, keep it like that and you'll be one of the guys left standing. Forget about this whole… thing."

"This thing is bigger than you know," Oswald in a low voice, leaning forward in his seat.

"I know more than you can imagine," Joker replied.

"Hey pretty don't you want to take a ride with me"

A/N – Yes it's a re-write, but I am happier with it this way. Thank all of you for your patience, it deserved to be rewarded.

"Hey Pretty" lyrics are the property of Poe.

This is for everyone who wanted more from "Clean Getaway."

This story was inspired by a trip myself and Mr. Estrella (ha) took to "The John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art" in Sarasota Florida this spring on our seventh wedding anniversary. We visited the "Circus Museums" and I read a copy of the essay "The Clown and The Showgirl" by Harry A. Atwell and Rodney Huey." I recommend that anyone who has the chance to, do go visit this museum.