Chapter 4: Goes the Weasel

Maybe Harley wasn't so bad.

She was definitely a hassle, but as Danny watched her make a young terminal cancer patient laugh, he found himself quite proud of the woman. As he had been warned by her mother before bringing Harley in, the girl was at the age where she knew what was going to happen to her soon and had hardly smiled in weeks. And yet, Harley had thoroughly shattered that dry spell. It pains him when he has to call an end to the visit, but the girl's doctors need to administer another round of medicine.

He pretended not to hear Harley's stage-whispered parting words. "Don'tcha worry, honey; Harley'll be back real soon!" She grinned and waved excitedly as Danny led her out the door and to the elevator, the girl's giggles floating after them. He waited to speak until the elevator doors closed behind them.

"Harley?"

"Mhmm?"

"Don't get caught."

Her amused cackle drew a smile out of him as they traveled downwards.

Danny banged his head against the wall several times as he watched the news the next morning. "...absolutely delighted to find the gifts when she woke up this morning, although it appears some of the items had been listed as stolen last night. However, when the shopkeepers were informed of where the toys had ended up, they were happy to know they had been taken for a good cause. One owner requested that, 'next time, that crazy clown lady just ask. I would've given it to her for that.'"

Gotham had only one resident "crazy clown lady," and she was currently seated on his couch. He was glad that she at least looked somewhat guilty.

"Yah did only tell me not to get caught..." she muttered. Danny sighed. She was correct. It appeared he'd just have to be more explicit with ground rules next time.

"You know how I said 'no stealing' before we visited her?" She nodded. "Okay, well that now applies for after visits as well, as long as the items are going to a child. If you want to give them something, just ask me to request it as part of their 'wish.' Alright?"

"A-okay!"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is that all?" Apparently it wasn't, as she tossed a phone to him. He turned it over in his hands. "What's this for?"

Harley clapped her hands happily. "Burner! Just in case yah need lil' ol' Harley again!" She jumped up and skipped to the door.

Danny nodded slowly. "Thanks, Harley," he called after her as she left with a jaunty salute. Mentally exhausted, he shut of the television and lay down in the space she had just vacated on the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light streaming through the windows. Maybe a few minutes shut-eye would help...

He was ready to chuck his phone out the window when it rang and interrupted the calm. "What now?!" He snapped.

"'What now?' Have you seen the news?! What the hell did that woman do?"

"I did see the news, and apparently it's all okay. In fact, social media seems to find the action heartwarming," he deadpanned.

His boss huffed in frustration. "Don't expect to clean up any mess you cause, Johnson."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you have a new case for me, or is that all?"

"Chris Waters, 12. Double leg amputee. He wants to play a game of HALO with... Deadstroke? Deathshot? Doesn't matter. Just find the guy."

"Don't you mean-" Danny stared incredulously at the ceiling as she hung up. "But... those are two different people?" He swore silently to himself. Two deadly assassins- what could go wrong? He needed to make a phone call. Harley, Ivy, or Cold? Danny chose a burner at random.

"What?" A hard voice demanded. Seems he called Cold.

"It's Danny. From-"

"Yeah, the crazy bastard from the bar. What do you want?"

Danny ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "There's a kid asking to play video games with Deadshot or Deathstroke," he correctly stated their names. "Any chance you know where to find either?" There was a grunt on the other hand and a minute's worth of muffled conversation before the line became clear again.

"What the hell you want with Deadshot, mate?" A gruff Australian accent demanded. Danny's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Uh, a kid wants to play HALO with him. He recently had both legs amputated."

A bark of laughter came from the other end. "Cold said you were insane, but he didn't say nothin' bout stupid."

"Look, will you help or not?"

"Alright, alright. Place down near Crime Alley called the Iceberg Lounge. Run by seedy fat shit named Penguin," the man spat out the name before returning to his annoyed demeanor. "Deadshot stops by there when he's in town. He'll be expectin' you."

Joy, another bar. But at least he had somewhere to start. "Thanks, mister," Danny said with genuine gratitude before he hung up.

"It's Boomerang, kid, and don't mention it."