Henchwench
Harley Quinn sighed heavily, drumming her fingers against the handle of the shopping cart. She was bored of waiting in line. But the supermarket only had three cashiers working at midday, and Mr. J wanted his ice cream pretty desperately, so she didn't see any choice. Other than just stealing it, of course. But she broke the law so often in really big ways that occasionally it was nice to have a break and abide by them. To just be a normal person again. It was moments like these, however, that reminded her how tedious and awful it was being a normal person, and made her incredibly grateful to Mr. J for turning her into Harley Quinn. She didn't have to put up with waiting in lines, filing taxes, or working a boring job five days out of every week. Her job was constantly fun and entertaining, constantly new and exciting, and, of course, let her be with her beloved Joker. She missed him, even on little errands like this, and smiled fondly as she thought about him, and about how angry he would be if the ice cream melted before it got to him, on account of her having to wait in this line. But she doubted smuggling it into her shirt and holding it against her warm body would prevent it melting any quicker. It wouldn't be long, she assured herself. She just had to wait. She was good at waiting. She had had lots of practice with Mr. J. And in his case, the waiting always made the payoff a whole lotta fantastic. Images and memories began to pop into her head and she grinned. Maybe a little daydreaming would make the wait go faster…
She was startled out of her fantasizing by a low whistle as a guy joined the line behind her. "Hey, baby," he murmured, studying her. She wasn't wearing her Harley Quinn costume – she didn't when she went out in public, so as not to draw attention to herself. But she was wearing shorts and a tank top (it was a really hot day, hence Mr. J's desire for ice cream), and she bristled as she felt the man's eyes fixated on her bottom. He had no right to check out Mr. J's merchandise like that.
"You got a problem, buddy?" she demanded, turning to face him.
"I do now," he replied, grinning at her. "My problem is I can't seem to take my eyes off the sexy little piece of ass in front of me. You doing anything later, sweetheart?"
Harley sighed. Red was right – guys could be such creeps sometimes. She often thought Mr. J was the last gentleman left. This guy clearly thought himself quite the stud, and maybe to other women, looking nice was the only criteria. But not to Harley.
"Look, I'm really flattered and all," said Harley, sarcastically. "But I do have a boyfriend, so just keep your eyes to yourself, would ya?"
"Yeah, but he ain't here," retorted the guy. "And if I were him, I wouldn't let a hot little number like you outta my sight. I sure as hell wouldn't send her to go do errands. I'd just keep her on her back all day long."
"I can see why you're still single," she retorted. "Any gal involved with you would clearly need a lot of chiropractory. Anyway, sport, you ain't my type, so just lay off."
She turned back to face the line and suddenly felt his hand near her. She whirled around and seized his arm, pushing it back toward him. "Touch me and you're dead," she hissed. "I mean it, buster. This is my last warning."
He laughed. "Fiery little minx, ain't ya? Strong too, baby, I like that. You must work out, huh? Your body says you do. It also says it wants to have a little fun. C'mon, sugar, gimme a chance."
"You couldn't possibly give me the kinda fun I want," retorted Harley. "I doubt you even know what fun is. My boyfriend does, and he won't find this very funny if I tell him. And you don't want to see him when he's not amused, trust me."
"I ain't scared of him, sweetheart. I think I could probably take him," he retorted.
"Oh, I really don't think you could," she retorted. "Who do you think you are, Batman? Do you have any idea who my boyfriend is?"
"Don't tell me it's Batman?" he asked, surprised.
"Do I look like the kinda gal who would date a freak in a flying rodent costume?!" demanded Harley. "No, he's much better than Batman!"
"May I help you?" asked the cashier at that moment, for Harley had reached the front of the line.
She turned away from the guy and handed the carton of ice cream to the cashier, who rang it through. Harley then pulled out her debit card and stuck it into the machine, muttering to herself. She put in her pin number and waited.
"I'm sorry, miss, the card's been declined," said the cashier.
"What?" said Harley, puzzled. There should be plenty of money in her account – she rarely used it. It was easier just to steal most of what she wanted. And she was under the impression that all the salary she earned from the jobs she and Mr. J pulled went into that account. And they had done quite a few jobs lately.
She tried it again, with the same result. "Do you have another card?" asked the cashier.
"Um…lemme see," said Harley, looking around her purse. Her and Mr. J's joint account had a card, but she didn't remember the pin number. It was probably written down here somewhere though…
The guy behind her suddenly laughed. "Looks like you can't pay, sweetheart! Well, I know a way you can make a quick buck. I'll do this for you if you do a little something for me later, deal?"
He pinched her bottom, and Harley lost her temper. She suddenly whipped out her gun and fired six rounds into his face. "No means no, jerk!" she shrieked. Then she grabbed the ice cream and ran, amid the screams and cries and shouts as the people in the store panicked.
Harley raced for the exit, leaping over the security guards and landing in the parking lot. She jumped from car to car until she reached hers, avoiding the bullets the guards shot at her, then screeched off into the streets of Gotham, police cars following her.
"Tub of ice cream ain't worth this," she muttered to herself as she tried to lose the cars in the twisting streets. She crashed through a no-entry sign and revved up the car as the road began to climb, ending in an incomplete bridge. The police cars screeched to a halt, but Harley stepped on the gas and managed to jump the gap, landing on the other side of the bridge.
"Sayonara, suckers!" she cried as she drove out of sight, laughing. "Nah, ice cream wasn't worth all that, but Mr. J's face will be," she sighed, thinking dreamily of him all the way back to their hideout.