Commissioner Gordon.

"Get... getoff me! Stupid Bat!" Harley Quinn shrieked, as the Batman bound her wrists behind her back and bent her over the hood of Gordon's car.

"Nice work back there, Jim," Batman said impassively. "If it hadn't been for you, Quinzel might've got the drop on me."

"So I saved your ass tonight. I'm pretty sure you're still 1 for 100 on that count," the veteran cop remarked, as he took the Joker's psychotic girlfriend and ushered her into the backseat.

"He's still out there, Gordon. I have to get after him," the vigilante said solemnly. The duo's night raid on the Joker's dockside hideout could've gone better. Harley had gone berserk, holding off both of them long enough for her man to slip away. And they said chivalry was dead in Gotham.

"Well, your ride is faster," Gordon conceded. "Watch your back, neither of us need another object lesson in how dangerous that clown can be."

"Agreed," Batman said. "Can you handle Quinzel?"

"Don't worry about me, Batman. I can get this trash back to GCPD in one piece," Gordon assured his shadowy partner.

With a curt nod, Batman darted off into the shadows, leaving the Commissioner alone with the captured criminal.

"So... I really don't wanna go to the lockup..." Harley started.

"Shut up, Quinn!" Gordon said forcefully. God, he needed a smoke, or a drink...

"Nah, yah ain't gettin' my meanin', Jimbo," the clown girl insisted, leaning her head out of the rear window.

"I really- _really _don't wanna go to GCPD," Harley insisted. As she did, she slipped her tongue into her cheek, simulating the bulge of a thick cock. Gordon locked eyes with the Joker's girl. She winked, fluttering one of her crystal blue eyes at him.

"You've got some nerve, Quinn," Gordon began indignantly. The prospect raised, he couldn't help but reappraise her body. Underneath the clown make-up, Harley was a good-looking kid. Right now she was wearing a black and red corset that really flaunted and accentuated the young woman's figure. His eyes drifted over her girlish pigtails, the ends dyed black and red, contrasting each side of her outfit. Christ, she was barely older than Barb...

"Some nerve indeed, propositioning the Commissioner of police," Gordon finished.

"Why? Looks like it's workin' ta me!" Harley cackled, nodding at Gordon's crotch.

His eyes darted down, catching sight of an embarrasingly large tent in the front of his suit pants.

"Whaddaya say, Gramps? No one ever has ta know..." Harley assured him.

Jesus, Gordon mentally groaned, it had been so long since he'd felt a woman's kiss on the head of his cock...