Versus Batgirl

Once upon a time, the Gotham City Carnival was having a perfectly ordinary evening. Cotton candy machines hummed softly. The Ferris wheel turned in slow, gentle circles, its lights twinkling against the dark sky. Families strolled between the game booths, sharing popcorn and laughing at the mirror maze.

And then, all at once, every ride in the park began playing circus music at the exact same time.

Whoopee cushions the size of beach balls appeared under every single bench — squuuelch! The cotton candy machines started blowing soap bubbles instead of spun sugar, drifting up over the crowd like a strange, shimmering snow. Somewhere, a calliope organ began playing a tune that was much, much too fast.

Barbara Gordon, swinging into the carnival grounds as Batgirl, knew exactly what was happening before she even saw the culprit. Only one person in all of Gotham City caused chaos this colorful, this loud, and this strangely delightful.

Harley Quinn.

Sure enough, there she was — doing cartwheels across the top of the carousel, her mallet strapped across her back, laughing at her own joke before she had even finished telling it to anyone.

"Hiya, Bats Junior!" Harley called down the moment she spotted Batgirl weaving through the crowd. "Wanna ride?"

She launched off the top of the carousel and swung across the midway on a loose trapeze rope left dangling from the old acrobat tent, tossing a handful of glitter behind her like the finale of a magic trick.

Batgirl wasn't about to let Harley turn a family carnival into her own private playground. She took off after her at once, running across the rooftops of the game booths, leaping over the spinning cars of the Ferris wheel, and chasing straight through a tunnel of mirrors that made a dozen giggling Harleys appear all at once. Every single one of them blew her a kiss. It was more than a little dizzying.

Harley used every trick the carnival had to offer. She slid down a helter-skelter slide with a delighted "Wheee!" She bounced off the canvas roof of a trampoline tent. She even cartwheeled along the narrow top edge of the log flume, water splashing beneath her with every flip. But Batgirl matched her step for step, gliding smoothly on her cape whenever the gap between them grew too wide, never quite letting Harley slip away for good.

Then came the real trouble.

In the middle of one particularly wild cartwheel, Harley accidentally knocked loose a giant prop cannon standing beside the ring-toss booth. It teetered, tipped, and began to lean dangerously toward a crowd of families gathered nearby, none of whom had noticed a thing.

Batgirl didn't hesitate for even a second. She fired her grappling line, caught the cannon before it could fall, and held it steady until it was safe again. It took only a few seconds — but a few seconds was more than enough time for Harley to slip toward the carnival's front gate, laughing all the way.

Almost enough time, anyway.

Batgirl caught up in a flash, looping a cable smoothly around Harley's ankles right in the middle of a leap. Harley tumbled forward and landed with a soft thump in a giant pile of leftover popcorn, giggling instead of growling, popcorn kernels scattered in her bright red-and-black hair.

"You could've just enjoyed the show," Harley said cheerfully, still grinning as the officers arrived and led her gently away past the now-darkened Ferris wheel.

Batgirl knelt down for a moment before Harley was taken to the car. She told her, quietly and without any anger at all, that jokes were only funny when nobody got hurt in the end. And she reminded Harley, gently, that a long time ago — back when she was still Dr. Harleen Quinzel — she used to understand that better than almost anyone in Gotham.

Harley didn't answer right away. She just looked down at the popcorn scattered across her striped leggings, and for one quiet moment, her grin softened into something smaller and a little more thoughtful.

Then the carnival lights blinked back on, one by one, and the whole park slowly returned to its ordinary, gentle glow — cotton candy, Ferris wheels, and all.

And somewhere in the back of a police car, a jester in red and black sat very still, thinking about doctors, and doorbells, and the choices still waiting to be made.