Author's note: I wanted to thank everyone who has given me a lot of support this far and correcting my grammar since English isn't my first language. :) Suggestions for the story are always welcome, either PM me or write it in the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter, a lot of time and effort has been invested in "Your Crazy Matches My Crazy". Enjoy! Lots of love, Psycho.
Chapter 3: Taking Her In
Harley jumped out of her seat in less than a second. "Woah, Woah, Woah, easy cowgirl.", Deadpool tries to calm her down. No doubt Harley didn't even think about calming down. She clenched her fist and tried to punch, he turned to the side and she missed him.
Harley turns around, jumps up into the air and tries to kick him. He grabs her by the foot and she hits the floor. "Look, Blondie. I wanted to- "Harley kicks him straight in the knee cap. A cracking sound echoes in the bar. Ow…
Deadpool kneels on the floor, trying to push his dislocated kneecap back into place. In the meantime, Harley runs to the bar counter and grabs an empty beer bottle that stood nearby. She smashes it against the edge of the counter top, leaving sharp and broken edges on the remaining bottle piece.
With rapid speed, she dashes towards Deadpool and stabs him straight in the chest, pressing the broken bottle with her body weight deeper into his heart. Without a single scream or groan, Deadpool lays on the ground, lifeless. Harley takes a step back, breathing hard. She strokes a strand of hair out of her face.
"Well that wasn't very nice" Deadpool replied. He jumps up on his feet again and pulls out the broken bottle out of his chest. "HOW are you not dead?! I just stabbed ya!" she jumps back and shrieks. "Superhuman healing factor. I can't die no matter what you do, sweet cheeks." Deadpool laughs and throws the bottle on the ground. Hypocritically he looks to the left and to the right, pretending he was looking for someone. "Weird. Where's that green haired leprechaun boyfriend of yours?"
Harley narrows her eyes, clenching her fists. She looks at her feet, trying to think what she could use an excuse. Deadpool walked past her and sat down on a bar stool. He pats on the other seat. "Drink with me. It's the least you can do after trying to kill me."
Approaching the chair, she pulls it out to sit down, but Deadpool reaches out his hand. "The names Deadpool, in case you already forgotten. Originally Wade Wilson, call me Wade."
Harley shakes his hand. Her hand seemed so small in his, grip was firm too. "Harley Quinn." She stated.
She looks at him with a suspicious expression, studying his behavior very closely. Harley sat down beside him continuing to stare at him. "What do you want from him?" she asked without hesitation.
"I got orders to end him, the so-called 'Clown Prince'. I get a nice wage for his head, if I'd get him", he explained.
"Kill him for all I care. He and I are done."
"Oh…" Deadpool's voice takes a surprising turn. "And why is that, Ms. Quinn?"
"It was just an argument," Harley replied, almost whispering. She tucks her luxurious blonde hair behind her ear revealing her many piercings.
"Doesn't look like it was 'just' an argument, sweets. He beats you, doesn't he? I can see that big bruise on your arm from here. You probably had daddy issues as a child."
"Daddy issues would be paradise..." Harley leans closer to him starring right into the white sockets of his mask. "But there's much worse things than a little daddy issue – hiding behind a mask for example." She grins at him, the typical psychopathic grin.
Her crystal blue eyes shined like diamonds. She really was a beauty. Long, bleach blonde hair down to her stomach, and those pink and blue colored hair ends really suited her. Her figure was slender but quite womanly, with curvy hips and toned legs. She had a black heart tattoo underneath her right eye. On her jawline, another saying "ROTTEN". Maybe she means her personality is rotten, Deadpool thought to himself.
Hours pass on as they start to drink.
"So why did you stay with him? Even though he abused you?" He asks Quinn.
"…I was so in love. I-I… kept telling myself it was my fault if he got angry… and hit me."
Deadpool takes another shot of whiskey and places the empty glass on the table. "You know a son of a bitch like that didn't deserve a treasure like you. If I were you, Harl, I'd shoot the bastard. Right between the eyes." His hands mimic a gun.
"I have the desire to, Wade…But…I'm unarmed. All my clothes and guns are still at Mistah J's house. I have nowhere to go…" Harley replied with a sad undertone in her voice.
"Listen Blondie…." Deadpool starts out. "I'll make you a deal. A deal better than 60% discount on your next Taco Bell order. If you help me…If you… assist me during this mission, I'll split the coin with ya. Hell, I'll let you stay at my place as long I'm in Gotham. You can't just wander the streets without a roof over your head. Think about it, you can have your revenge on him. Torture him as long you want – I won't see anything." he winks at the blonde.
She bites her lip, looking down at her empty shot glass. "Alright, it's a deal." They shake on it. Deadpool fills up both shot glasses with another round of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. "Cheers, Harl. To good teamwork." He says. "Cheers", they clink their shot glasses together.
-some time later-
The old creaky wood door bursts open as the two enter a tiny, trash flooded apartment. Wade takes his gear and weapons off and throws them on a pile of old pizza boxes. "It's not much but hey it's enough to live in." Harley looks around in disgust, trash was piling in every spot of the apartment.
Pizza boxes, stacked on top of each other, piles of old rotten food was laying in the sink, trash was overflowing the bins, old dirty laundry was scattered everywhere. Beer bottles stacked up like little pyramids and even porno magazines laying faced down scattered around the place.
"This is the living room and dining room. The bedroom is to the left with a small bathroom. To your right lies the kitchen and closet." Wade explains.
Harley takes another look at the apartment. What a dump… she thinks to herself. Wade walks to the tiny closet and opens the doors. "Harl, come here."
"Yeah?" she replies and walks to him. "Behold! My babies!" Wade chirps in a delightful manner.
Guns, bombs, ammunition, swords, knives, and bows were stuffed into the tiny closet. "I'm planning on to attack tomorrow night. But without you being armed we are going to get our asses kicked." Deadpool explained while going throw his stash of "babies".
A cloudy white gun gets Harley's attention and she picks it up, turning it to the side to observe its quality. "Chiappa Rhino 60 DS" she reveals. "Whoa whoa whoa…Careful. Do you know how to even use that?" Wade asks.
"Don't worry about it hun. It's full of blanks…Just like Mistah J." She jokes, giggling like a little school girl. His jaw drops which isn't visible to the mask. "Now if I had some real bullets in there we would be talkin'. I'll take that one anyways thank you very much." Harley hands him the gun.
"That reminds me, I'm gonna take a shower if you don't mind." As she turns her back to him and starts to walk her hair moves away from her, revealing a part of a massive scar near her neck.
*In the bathroom*
Hot, steamy water runs down her back. Harley holds onto her arms while staring at the old, dirty tiles on the wall. The hot water felt good on her skin as it eased her sore muscles. She stares down to her feet, watching the water run down the drain. Deadpool spied at Harley showering from the crack of the door. That scar was caused by a combat knife. It must have been a severe wound if it runs down her back like that…to that ass. God that is one fine ass…I'm touching myself tonight.
