Exs and Ohs

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Maybe just the plot idea.

Author's Note: Inspired by Suicide Squad Harley (because Margot Robbie – mmm) but it's actually an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for over a year now. Title is also based on the popular song "Exs and Ohs" as I feel it really fits Harley so well. There is a reason why she is only Harleen at first and not Harley but that's all part of the plot my dears. Also features other Batman characters, but they might be a little AU. Things have been twisted to suit my own purposes.

But do let me know, as politely as possible, if anyone is OOC.

Rated: M for Mature. Will eventually contain subject matter and some scenes that might offend some readers.

Chapter 1

Harleen Quinzel stared at the single sheet of paper, horrifying words jumping out at her from the page.

As you are aware of the fact that our prestigious college – Gotham City University is constantly on the lookout for promising athletic talent. In our endeavor to do so, we offer one scholarship for gymnastics to interested students to the tune of $10,000 each year.

We have received your scholarship application and our esteemed panel has reviewed your interview. We are sorry to inform you that you do not meet our rigorous requirements for the scholarship. If you are still interested in attending classes next semester, you can apply for student loans and grants through our financial aid office.

She almost skipped the lines wishing her well with future endeavors and "not to lose heart." Bile rose to the top of her throat.

Too late for that, she thought bitterly. Funds are running out.

It was true. Her account had enough for maybe a week, if she spent carefully and only ate one meal a day.

But there wouldn't be enough for another semester, much less finishing this one. With her internship at Arkham, Harleen couldn't fit in a regular job and attend classes. She had banked everything on getting that scholarship, which she knew deep down was stupid. There had been no time for the serious training she needed to outdo the Russian transfer student.

Harleen could apply for financial aid again, but she didn't think she could get it in time for this coming semester. Her financial history was not sterling, especially when it came to apartment deposits.

This apartment was a shit hole in a terrible location, but it was literally all she could afford on her own.

Another stupid mistake when it came to a guy. The cops had been involved too. That didn't look good for a scholarship applicant.

Flinging herself across her hastily-made bed, Harleen dialed her best friend Pamela "Ivy" Isley for another perspective. She just managed to choke the bile down her throat again.

"Hello? Doctor Pamela Isley speaking, what is the nature of your call?" came her friend's smoky voice through the receiver.

"Ivy, you're not a doctor yet," Harleen pointed out. She tried to sound irritated, but that was next to impossible. A smile cracked her face.

"I'm practicing for when I am. I was thinking about calling you today. What's up?"

Harleen could clearly picture the redhead twirling a lock of thick, curly hair around a slim finger as she idly flipped through a botany book. If Harleen bent the other way, she might have pursued Ivy. It was a shame her friend was wasted down in the labs and greenhouses all day. Maybe, after this last run in, Harleen should turn to women…

Alas, her taste was apparently in terrible men. She seemed to attract jerks and crazies like pigeons.

"I've got a problem." Harleen's thick, New York accent ran the words together, making them sound more whiney than she planned.

"If it's an ex-boyfriend again, you'll just have to lock the door and call the police this time," Ivy said.

"No, not that kind of problem. A school problem Ivy." She could feel the bile rising in her throat again.

"Har, I cannot charm the prof-"

Harleen cut her off. "No, a funding problem."

"Funding?"

"Yes Ivy. I've got a letter here from the university."

"Well," came the reply. "You should have cut the dramatics and started with that. I'll be right over." There was no word of goodbye as Ivy hung up her phone.

Sighing, Harleen flopped sideways on her bed, staring up at the stained ceiling. It would be a few minutes before Ivy made it downtown to the cheap housing. Up until a few months ago, Ivy would have just walked downstairs to Harleen's apartment in the resident housing of Gotham City University.

That had been one of her latest, costly mistakes. Moving in with her boyfriend had seemed like a good idea at the time. Until he wasn't.

It had cost her a good, cheap place on school grounds when they had broken up. Cheapside was her only option.

She had tried hard to be optimistic every time her apartment was burgled, telling herself it would just be for a few months. Then she had failed a class because of the emotional drama and nearly lost her internship at Arkham, working with the inmates.

Harleen got up and started picking up clothes from the floor. Ivy hated messes and would complain. She threw the items at her bathroom door; close enough to the hamper there.

Soon enough, Ivy was knocking at the door using their code of "shave and a haircut."

"I brought snacks," Ivy said brushing past Harleen into the apartment. "The standard – chocolate, peanut butter, and chips." Things were serious enough if Ivy was bringing food along.

"Great. I don't have much food."

"I didn't think so." Ivy set the bag on the counter and Harleen dug in. "Where's the letter?"

Harleen gestured toward the bed, where the letter lay abandoned on the pillows.

Gracefully, Ivy sat down and crossed her legs as she scooped up the letter and started reading.

After a moment or two, Ivy sighed as she set the letter back down and rubbed her temples.

"This is a big problem, Har."

"I know! That's why I called you. You have all the answers." Harleen knew she was whining but she didn't care.

"I might not this time." Ivy lay back on the bed. "Or at least, an answer you might not like."

"As long as you're not telling me to move back home, because I would have to kill you with this butter knife and that would take a very long time, Sweetie," she teased, scooping out a big chunk of peanut butter with the utensil.

Under no circumstances would Harleen ever return home. She would go naked and homeless on the streets of Gotham before she moved back to the shithole that had been home, with all of her clingy brothers and sisters, her passive-aggressive mother, and overbearing father.

Harleen went and lay down on the bed beside her friend, snuggling as close as possible because she knew it irritated Pamela.

"You could move in with me," Ivy suggested.

"I could. But I don't think that would be fair to the men in your life," Harleen said.

"What men? It would be cramped though. We would have to share a shower and a bed." Ivy rolled over to look into her friend's bright, blue eyes.

"I'm not hearing anything wrong with this plan so far."

"I think it would not be good for us in the long run. You would drive me insane," Ivy said, tapping Harleen's nose. "And then you would see me at Arkham."

"So Plan B?"

"You call home."

"No. They can't help me from the trailer park," Harleen snapped. "I already said 'no' to that idea to begin with."

"Plan C. You take up my old job."

"At the plant nurs-"

"No, my old night job."

"As what?" Harleen propped herself up on her elbow. She couldn't remember what Pamela had done a while back.

"A stripper."

Author's End Note: That's it for now. Scream if you want to go faster! *wheeeee!* Actually, if you are interested in seeing another chapter, just comment below.