Notes:
Oh god guys I'm so sorry this took so long to get out for you, but I am still working on this fic, just...I don't always have a lot of energy these days.
Just a warning for blood and violence in this one as well as mentions of abuse.
The first time Harleen Quinzel met Bruce Wayne, he was touring the Asylum, being a major donor he wanted to make sure his funds were going to good use. She was as charming as she could have been, but the whole time she looked at him all she could think of was how different he was from the Joker. She had already fallen under the spell of the man and wanted to understand what made him so different from everyone else.
When she looked at Bruce Wayne, she just say that he didn't have that same spark that her puddin' did. At the time she assumed that spark was creativity or intelligence, what made the Joker great. Now she knew it was cruelty and amusement that the little doctor thought she could understand him.
The first time Harley Quinn met Bruce Wayne she was shoving a gun into his face, demanding his wallet while threatening that no one try to be a hero. She didn't see the same man that had been at the Asylum that first time. Then he was showing vague interesting in what was going on, but still managed to look like he didn't care. Now there was something hard in his eyes, like he was daring her to try and hurt someone.
But it didn't scare her. Not in the same way the Joker's violent outbursts scared her. She knew Bruce was just trying to protect himself. He had a reason to lash out if it came to that.
He wouldn't hurt her for no reason.
For some people the walk she was talking would have given them aching muscles and sore feet. Thankfully Harley wasn't some people. Not so thankfully she didn't have the pain to distract her from her thoughts.
Even after months of therapy her desire was still to assume that the fault laid with her. Maybe the issue was that Bruce didn't feel he could open up to someone who had done what she had done in the past.
There was some part of her brain that wasn't so broken down by the abuse of the past few years, was attempting to inform her that it wasn't her fault. Bruce wasn't the healthiest person mentally, there was no way to assume that he wasn't trusting her because of her past. Of course the rational thoughts were shoved into a dark corner of her mind where she choose not to remember.
In some ways it was easier to blame herself then try to puzzle out what was going on in Bruce's brain. She wasn't his therapist or his doctor, she couldn't do anything for him standing out here without anyway of talking to him.
Harley wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly despite the fact it was a warm night. It just felt...a little bit like there was someone watching. Which in Gotham was always possible, but she could defend herself if she was forced to.
Walking by an alley the gleam of something in the back and little bit too much motion caught her attention. Just barely she could see the outline of someone, maybe two someone's struggling in the dark. She dropped her arms to her side, stepping lightly so not to be heard. That was a talent that she learned form Selina, walk like a cat.
The closer she got the more she could see and hear, the almost quiet whimpering of someone in pain and a man grumbling at the other figure to shut up and just let him do what he wanted.
Something just snapped within Harley, she flew forward grabbing the man by the shoulder and ripping him away from the other woman. She could just barely see the skin where the woman's shirt had been torn straight down to her stomach.
"Leave her alone", Harley said, her hand still gripping into the man's shoulder. His eyes were wide, and bloodshot, looking more red than white. He looked like he wasn't expecting someone to stop him but when he managed to focus and realize it wasn't the Batman, he just...sort of laughed.
His hand pulled up, the metal of the gun glinting in the moonlight. She stared like she couldn't believe that he was about to do it, "Shut up bitch!" his hand came down, smashing into her cheek and eye, a bit catching above her eye, blood dripping down.
She blinked, it hurt of course but she had dealt with a lot worse with her time with the Joker. She had been beaten beyond this, put in more casts then she could count. That didn't make her any less angry though, she had promised herself in the hospital that she wouldn't let anyone beat her anymore. Including this lowlife bastard.
Harley pulled on his shoulder, twisting him around as her other hand grasped his arm. She didn't give him a chance to react as she pulled and shoved his arm upwards. The pop of his shoulder coming out was what she was looking for, "I said leave her alone", she flicked her head the blood flying a little bit.
"Let...go...of..me", his voice was hoarse, clearly from the pain of having his shoulder pulled out. He wiggled against her hold, attempting to break free from her. Maybe if she was a normal human it would have worked but…
The hand that was on his shoulder moved up, grasping his hair. It only took her a moment for the quick movement, slamming his head straight into the wall before him with a heavy thud. Harley released the man, dropping him to the ground.
"Is...is he did?" the woman stuttered form her huddled position against the wall.
Harley pulled the back of her hand across her forehead, the blood was starting to dry against her eyebrow and eyelashes. Gross, "Who cares?" She muttered, but kneeled down pressing her fingers against the man's neck. A pulse, just barely there, "He's alive"
The woman gasped gently, a thump following the noise, "You would be in more trouble if he was dead", the deep voice wasn't one that she would forget easily so she didn't even have to turn to see how was speaking.
"He's lucky didn't do more. He hurt her", she pressed a hand to her cheek, wincing slightly at the pain and the shifting of the bone. She was going to have a seriously messed up cheek in the morning because of her healing. Harley turned on her heel, facing the Batman face on, or rather chest on since he was so much taller than her, "Like you haven't done worse"
Batman didn't say anything, his gloved hand touched her injured cheek, the other hand coming up under her chin, "That won't heal right if you don't let me fix that"
She snorted slightly, "DOn't fuck up my pretty face Batboy", Harley simply closed her eyes, she wasn't sure what he was doing, it didn't make much sense to her that he would care so much.
"The police are coming", his hand moved to her waist, pulling her against him, "we're getting out of here"
The sirens reached her ears only a moment later, apparently he had some kind of police radio or something, "What do you mean we're?" She opened her eyes, looking up at him with her eyebrow arched as much as she could threw the pain.
The arm not holding her shot to the sky, something flying from his wrist. The damn grappling hook. The moment her feet left the ground she wrapped her arms around his neck, not fancying the idea of falling on her ass while flying in the air.
She wasn't sure what he caught his hook on but they landed squarely on the roof. They stood there for a moment still wrapped around each other. Harley tilted her head up, looking at the man she had on more than one occasion had tried to kill.
Her mind leapt to Bruce, she had tried to kill him too. Harley put her hands against Batman's chest, pushing him away from herself. She crossed her arms, taking a step back, "Shouldn't you be tattling on me to my parole officer or something?"
Batman didn't speak, his hands went to her busted cheek. His fingers moved gently, even with the thick gloves on to reposition the bone so it would heal straight. Harley winced, feeling the sharp pain of her bone being moved.
"I'll take you home", he told her, his hand still on her cheek.
"That's not an answer!" she could have sworn that he smirked under that mask, just before a mist sprayed in her face from his wrist, "Wha..", normally she wouldn't feel the effects of anything that someone tried to use on her but this time...she was starting to feel a little whoozy.
"Something I made just for you", Batman wrapped his arms around her again. Harley could feel her legs go out from underneath her, almost glad that he was holding her. Almost, if he hadn't just knocked her out so she wouldn't fight him.
"D...ick", she whispered, the dark closing in around her sight.
Bruce sighed, looking at Harley's pale face, the bruises already blooming where she had been hit. He had been only following her to protect her, but she had ended up protecting another woman. At least he had her with him now, hopefully that would be enough to keep her from getting her more.
Alfred had asked him if he was planning on stalking Miss Quinn until they made up or only for this night. Bruce hadn't answered that, but he had to admit, as he generally was, Alfred was right. He was following his girlfriend, just because he couldn't talk to her.
Now he had knocked her out.
Harley would have a field day with that if she ever found out what he had done.
"I'm just trying to protect you", he whispered, sliding his hand under her legs. That was something he tried to do with everyone he cared about. Maybe he didn't do it always in the right ways, but at least he was trying.
Trying to make up for the other people he hadn't been able to save in his life, or just trying to save everyone because he had to do something he wasn't sure. That wasn't something that he had time to think about, standing above of a crime scene with Harley in his arms.
He would get her home and to bed, so she could sleep. She would be safe for that night.
Harley groaned, pulling her covers over her head. Her face hurt, her head hurt, a greatly unpleasant feeling that she couldn't totally remember where it came from. She had been walking home that night then…
"Ugh", she pressed her hands to her first, she had done something amazingly stupid in getting herself pistol whipped in the face, "Stupid Batman, stupid Bruce Wayne, stupid men"
The throbbing in her cheek didn't go away with her complaining, though she could feel that it was hurting less than the night before. Thank god for increased healing, she wouldn't have to explain why her face was black and blue to her students or her coworkers.
She swung her feet out of the bed, groaning as she got to her feet. The last thing she really wanted to do was be awake right now, but sleeping all day wasn't the best option either. There was things that she needed to do.
Harley made her way to the front room, taking a moment to notice the piece of paper on the floor. It had been slid under her door, but she couldn't see what it was. Bending over to pick up the paper she groaned again, the blood rushing to her face made her bruises throb.
It was a note from a flower shop, they had left something outside her door. She opened the door, a pot with one bright red flower, one that she couldn't identify was standing in front of her. Harley picked up the pot, and stuck her face into the flower taking a deep breath of the scent.
A note was attached, a little white card with black writing on it.
Picking up the card, she read the writing, not a style she knew but it was possible the florist had written it.
'For my doctor', was all the card said.
She couldn't think of who could have sent it for a moment, who would know she was here. The doctor comment made her jump to the Joker. She had been his doctor and for a moment a cold ball of fear dropped into her stomach. But he wouldn't send flowers. Or not a real flower at least, something that sprayed laughing gas may be.
It had to be Bruce, his way of trying to make it up to her after what had happened the night before. She smiled, satisfied with that answered and she placed the plant on the counter. Even with her sore cheek, she had to smile. It was a lovely plant.