Harley quinn
Your interrogating her
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It was supposed to be a routine interrogation.
Detective Honey sat in Interview Room 3 at GCPD headquarters, flipping through a thin file. The case was ugly — another stolen van, this time full of high-end medical supplies from a black-market lab. Witnesses reported a woman in bright colors and smeared lipstick.
They didn’t even need to say her name.
Harley Quinn had been picked up in an alley just two blocks from the heist. She wasn’t caught in the act — just nearby, with a smile, a baseball bat, and blood on her boots.
The door opened with a click.
Hiya, handsome,Harley said as she walked in, hands cuffed but posture loose, like she was strutting into a bar instead of a police station.
Miss me?Honey didn’t answer. She dropped into the chair across from him, resting her chin in her palms.
Come in handsome, why so serious.