Session Ten: Elegant Exposure

Glittering high heels. Dapper black ties. Flowy frills, showy shawls. Glittering stones, gold and silver. Ornate buns held in place with gallons of Aquanet. What a giant drag.

The Police Commissioner's Ball was an event held annually in Gotham City, usually in one of two locations; the VFW hall, or Wayne Manor. This year, of course, Bruce was playing host, and for some reason that made it even more annoying than usual.

"C'mon, honey, at least act like you don't hate this."

"Daddy," I whined. "I have been to at least two dozen of these. The novelty has worn off."

"I know," he grunted, swirling around his champagne flute and pulling at his moustache. "The city's rich and elite get yet another evening to show everybody else how much money they're willing to flush down the commode. Days like these are half the reason we have crime in the first place."

"Oh look, there's Bruce," I whispered. "And he's talking to Tim. Wasn't expecting him to show up."

"How do you know them, anyway?" he asked skeptically. "Just from the Quinzel woman's trial?"

"Yeah," I lied through my teeth. My father might know I was Batgirl, but I had yet to sell the head of the team out. "We all went out for dinner afterward."

Those reproachful eyes were back - like I was six years old again, trying to hide a burned spot on the carpet. "You're still hanging around with her, are you? I'm not convinced she's gone straight."

"Not only am I still hanging around with her, but... well, how do I-"

"Babs!"

Ooh, if only she'd waited five seconds. With a pained expression, I glanced up, and was rather shocked to see her decked out in such an amazingly elegant powder blue dress that a few heads were turning; it matched her walls quite well. The usual pigtails were still there, but transformed into tasteful French braids, and a simple silver filament around her neck set it all off nicely. It was such a transformation that I found myself gaping like everyone else.

"There you are, Babsy; I can't believe how huge this place is!" She blanched when she noticed my father standing there, all stern and dower. "Oh... hi, Commish. What's new?"

"That dress, I suppose," he said in what passed for politeness from him. "Very nice."

"Well, I'm hoping it stays that way," she whispered. "If I spill anything on it, I'll have to keep it - then I'll have to kiss my dream of watching GSN in hi-def goodbye!"

I laughed; Daddy gave her something like a grimace. We've all done a tag-tuck once or twice, but most of us don't usually tell the head of the police! A change of subject was in order. "Uh, anyway, what are you doing here?"

"Brucey invited me," she said simply. "I guess because of little Timmy. Jesus, I'm such a guppy in an ocean; I've never been to one of these!"

"Actually, you have," Daddy said gruffly. "I seem to remember some kind of noxious gas was involved."

"Oh, yeah."

"Dad," I hissed.

"No, it's okay," she laughed nervously, though she still seemed a little deflated. "That's more than fair with everything I did in the past. But hey, at least you won't be almost exploded tonight, right?"

Finally, he let her have a rueful smile. "Don't jinx it."

As he walked off to speak with somebody I thought I recognised as the city treasurer, Harley said, "I'm sorry, maybe I shoulda stayed at-"

"Don't be dumb," I gusted, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You know Daddy, he's tough on crime - regardless of circumstance, date, whether or not he's on the clock, family relation..."

"He's doin' his job, that's all. The city pays him to be a hardass."

"And he earns every penny," I snickered. "C'mon, let's find some kind of beverage."

"Dunno if I should let you do that," she said lightly as we set off to find the punchbowl. "Not after the last party you went t-"

"Shut up, will you?!"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite crimefighting chickadees."

That made me blink. "Oh, uh... hello, Tim."

"Hey, Barbara." He regarded Harley for a moment before nodding at her. "Some party, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," she laughed, giving me a sidelong glance. Seems Tim had brought a pound of hostility as a date. "Trippin' the light fantastic, too, huh?"

"Eh, not really." He took a sip of what I was relieved to see was only Sprite; he looked kind of annoyed by it, though. "It looks nice and all, but there's not really anything to do."

"You could dance," I recommended. "It's usually the point of a ball."

"Too bad I'm too short to dance with most of the women here."

"You're not that short," said Harley. "Besides, most guys keep growing into their twenties."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. "That helps me out a lot right now. Oh well, at least it gives me a chance to actually talk to you guys again, since..."

I frowned, glancing around for any busybodies with large ears. "For the record, I wasn't the one who thought you should be cut loose, and neither was Harley. Bruce was just looking out for you, that's all. Don't start making us the bad guys."

"I just mean-" He sighed in frustration as a gabby couple walked by us. "He said I couldn't be on the team anymore because the Joker tortured me, but isn't that what happened to Harley? And look where she is!"

"Well, there you go," she said brightly. "Stick it out for a while longer, don't bring a shotgun to school or anything, and then maybe you'll get another shot at Robin. Hey, I didn't go straight from Arkham to Batcave."

"Practically," he grumbled.

"Well, it doesn't matter now, anyway, 'cause I'm on suspension."

"Harley," I hissed warningly. Much though I believed she was innocent, spreading the rumour would do little to help her case.

"It's okay, Babs."

"What for?" Tim asked, setting down his drink on a nearby table. Despite his obvious disapproval of her being a Knight, he seemed genuinely surprised that she'd been kicked off the squad so soon.

She shrugged. "Bruce just ain't sure I can cut it, either. Looks like you and me are in the same boat."

"Hmm..."

"Come on, Harley, let's dance," I said airily, inwardly desperate to end this line of questioning before Tim got any more ammunition to fire at her. Maybe if we left it at this, he would actually start to understand and sympathise with Harley, and if we were really lucky, let some of his resentment fade. Even as I led her away from the punch bowl, I could see a little more warmth in his eyes than in recent memory.

The floor wasn't too crowded, but there was barely enough room for me and my billowy monstrosity. As we began an awkward slowdance, huge folds of fabric ballooning up into our faces, Harley said, "Geez, Babsy, I think the Asian sweatshops just went into overtime - not that they get paid for it."

"Shut up. And that's a horribly offensive comment."

"Sorry," she giggled. "But it is gorgeous. Where'd you get it?"

"Daddy," I sighed. "Mom used to buy me dresses like this for the ball every year, and he figured we'd just continue the tradition. Every time I try to angle for anything simpler, he gives me some bull about not raising me to be a tramp."

"That's, uh... kind of him?"

"Right."

"Well, I say you look like a princess."

"Thank you." For a moment, I glowed from her compliment, but then I trod on the hem of my lacey tent and nearly fell. Harley caught me, so at least I was uninjured. "RRGH!" I hissed. "I don't want to be a princess, though - I want to have freedom of motion!"

Then I noticed Harley wasn't moving; her eyes were boring straight into mine, and colour was coming into her cheeks. Momentarily puzzled, I raised my eyebrows at her, then looked around.

Quite a few of the others on the ballroom floor were staring. That's what made me realise that, due to our position, everybody thought Harley had dipped me. My arms were around her neck, and both of her hands were supporting my back. It would have been all regal and romantic if, say, Bruce had been my dancing partner, but instead we and our pile of fabric looked odd beyond compare.

"Uh, oops," I whispered, feeling silly. "Sorry, Harley, we... what's wrong?"

Her face was almost entirely red, and her mouth was working as if to make a sound but nothing came. A quick glance told me her chest was heaving; that may have been sweat glistening on it, as well. Wait, why was I staring at her chest? Eyes up!

"Um, I, uh-"

"H-Harley, d-don't- it's okay, just pull me back-"

"Babs..."

Now, everyone was watching. We'd been in this position too long, drawing too much attention, and Harley had frozen. I wanted to push her away, just to snap her out of it, but she was supporting me, I couldn't regain my feet without falling. She had me at her mercy.

Then, miraculously, she pulled me to my feet, a few people laughed, and the dancing resumed. Harley, however, did not join in.

"Thanks," I panted, smoothing out my dress. "Stupid thing." She wasn't moving, but gazing straight ahead; some kind of gears were trying to turn within that blonde head. "Uhh... hey, Harley? Earth to Harley, come in?"

"Sorry, Babsy," she laughed, grinning broadly. "I- I don't know what came over me, I just- just kinda spaced. Sorry about that."

My throat felt like the Gobi Desert. "Um - ahem! - uh, are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure. You're the one who almost smacked her head on the marble floor, remember?"

"Y-yeah."

"Wow, I could drink an ocean," she tittered. "How about you?"

"Oh, me too!"

"Let's go back to the punch, then!"

"Yeah!"

It was strange, but I was really expecting somebody to ask what that loud thumping sound was. It seemed deafening to me - but maybe that's because it was coming from inside my chest. What was that?

. . ᴥ . .

The night went by in a kind of floaty whirl, and for some reason I could scarcely spot Harley. Though we'd chat briefly, she was always flouncing away and getting lost in the crowd, or else being asked to dance by half the guys there - lucky minx. It was while Devon Wainwright was stepping all over my shoes that I noticed her slip out onto the balcony. Aha - cornered.

"Hey," I said, all nonchalant and chill.

"Oh, hey!" she laughed. "It's my good pal Barbara Gordon! Gosh, seems like I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Stupid," I laughed. Her eyes turned back to the starry skies as I joined her at the railing. "Having a good time?"

"Pretty good. Lots of beefcake here - did you see me dancing with that Swedish guy? Man, I thought he was gonna dip me in cocktail sauce and-"

"He is imposing, I'll give you that." The laughter kind of died in that really awkward way it does when you're either running out of topics, or else trying to avoid one in particular. I'd been planning to come out here and gloss over everything again, get us back on our usual track. What a good job I was doing so far, right? Then more than ever, I wished I was more of a people person.

"S-so who'd you come with?"

"Nobody," I said. "I mean... well, Daddy, I guess. You?"

She chuckled. "Babs, I don't even know anybody - who would I ask?"

"Yeah." My stomach roiled. Do it - just say something. There were a million things to talk about. Wasn't there something I was going to ask her? Five or six days ago... God. Come on, brain! "Oh, by the way, Harley, uh... one of the regulars at the library got me a couple of advance tickets to see 'Rent'."

"Yeah?" She was looking at me, now. That was good, wasn't it? We were both still acting like big idiots, but we were almost really talking. "It's comin' to Gotham?"

"Oh, it's not, sorry - over in Blüdhaven."

"Oh." She turned around and leaned back against the railing. "Wh... when is it?"

"Two months from now." She nodded. "Uh, if you don't want to go, it's-"

"No, no, are you kidding? Sure, sounds like fun!"

We both kind of giggled pleasantly for a few fleeting seconds, and then the silence set in again. What was with us? What was with her? I was flustered because she was, but her trauma was an unknown at the moment. Or, I mean, I had inklings, but you know what they say about assuming too much.

"Babs?"

"Do you mind if I make an ass out of you and me?"

One eyebrow started climbing. "Uhh... as long as it ain't too painful?"

That hadn't come out exactly right. Argh, this was unreasonably difficult! I had to ask her something about the apartment, or her job hunt. Let's see, what should I ask about? But my hesitation must have shone through like a lighthouse during a lunar eclipse, and Harley confirmed that.

"Oh, I just remembered I- I think I left the stove on!" She clapped her hands with a kind of hurried finality. "That can't be good for it, right? Maybe I-"

"Harley, do you like me?"

SHIT. Shit shit shit shit SHIT!

"Wh-what?! Whaddaya mean? I mean, of course I do, you're like my bestest friend!"

"That's not what I meant!" I snapped, unable to stop myself. Back up, back up, back UP! My lips were very, very disobedient! I've said "shit" already, haven't I?

"Then- then I don't know what you mean!" she hissed, glancing at the all-too-thin curtain separating us from the rest of the crowd. I took note of this, also; as long as I could keep my voice down, we could have this conversation in relative peace. Wait - I didn't want to have it at all, what the hell was I talking about?! "Come on, lemme go check on my stove, you don't want my building to burn down because of me, do ya?"

"I'm sorry." My heart was thudding so hard against my ribcage that I wasn't sure I could hang onto it. "I- I just- I don't know, you've been so weird lately, and- I'm trying to understand, but I-"

"There's nothing to worry about, trust me!" Her smile did nothing to hide her anxiety; I'm sure mine was all over my face. "Now, I'm gonna go and make sure I still have an apartment. I'll- I'll see you soon, okay?"

My mouth worked for a second. I choked out an "I-", and my hand clawed at the air... and then, sighing, I simply waved. She waved too, bit her lip, then walked back into the ballroom.

My brain had started pounding in time with my heart. Both of them were hammering away at my poor soul, making me feel more than a little faint. She wasn't being straight with me; building up a wall between us, even though I could tell she hated doing it. What was the point, then? I knew the answers already, but my refusal to tell her and her refusal to admit they existed were a bigger roadblock than the answers themselves. Everything was such a mess, I was a mess, and my heels were clicking across the marble, and my thoughts blurred into a fractal and my lungs constricted and I knew if I didn't do anything about it soon I would explode and people were jumping out of my way and I was outside the front doors to the mansion...

"HARLEY!"

She whirled, braids bouncing slightly as she spotted me. She'd grabbed what looked like a real fur coat from the check room; I guess I had hesitated long enough for her to do that. "B-Babs? Are you okay? You look like-"

"Don't go!"

I charged down the stairs, and she backed away as if I were a herd of elephants about to trample her. "But I gotta, I- I told you, there's-"

"Oh, shut up and tell me, okay?"

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me you like me!"

As I got closer, I could see just how pale and clammy she was looking. Sweat was breaking out all over the exposed skin. Her cheeks were sparkling slightly in the low light - and I don't think that was sweat. "Don't be stupid! You know I-"

"NO!" I screamed. They probably heard me inside, but that was insignificant. I didn't have time to stop for them, I had to finish this before I lost my grip on the real world entirely. "Whatever it is, just- just say it, so I can hear it and we can stop dancing around like some half-assed ballet of hell and torture!"

"What am I supposed to say?!" Tears were threatening to flow, but she was still putting up a good fight. "It's nothin', like I tried to tell you, I'm- I just have this, and I have to- just nevermind, okay? There ain't no point!"

"But we can't do this anymore, either! Something has to give!"

She stopped, squeezing the sides of her head. "Babs, y-you make me crazy! I don't wanna go back to Arkham because of- not when you tried so- I can't let this take over my-"

"Then quit beating around the bush and spit it out already!"

"FINE! I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!! FEEL BETTER?!"

She was pissed. Really pissed - her eyes were burning like coals, and her face looked like a persimmon. She was telling the truth, my heart ached with that undeniable knowledge, but she was furious that I'd coaxed it - no. I'd all but beaten it out of her. She had every right to be pissed.

The night air wasn't as cold as it was the last time we'd been where we were, shouting at each other as I tried to get away in my car. I thought that was strange. Also, the valet that Bruce had hired was slack-jawed, watching unabashedly; I felt it would be nice if he disappeared.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted Harley to disappear. Everything needed to disappear.

"I thought not!" Harley's voice was far from under control; her hands were fists, curled at her sides and shaking. "Maybe you figured I'd put it out there, and it'd be the magic Band-Aid to fix the boo-boo, but guess what? It doesn't work that way! And now you know, and I can't un-tell you, and- and now I have to leave!"

Someone's body swayed on the spot as she ran from me; it didn't even feel like mine. I was going to fall, I knew it. Gravity wasn't working right anymore - or maybe somebody had turned it off? My heart had stopped, my lungs were screaming, my ears were rushing, and... and in the middle of it all, one thought extended its cane and pulled me offstage, where the crowd was pelting me with week-old produce.

'She's leaving,' it said. 'Go.'

I went. Running at full tilt, zigzagging like a drunkard, I went as fast as my legs could will the rest of me while wearing a dress the size of a gazebo. "Wait!" I cried. "Wait, Harley, please!" She wasn't slowing. Through the blur of my vision, I could see one of her forearms was pressed over her face. Bricks came at me - no, I was moving toward them, moving downward. Gravity was back. My hands flew out, pushed off, and I hadn't lost much ground, I could still catch her!

SPLASH.

That's right - Bruce has a fountain. Remind me to thank him for that. And now I was sopping wet, rolling over and over myself. I started choking. Where was the surface? I couldn't see through a million layers of fabric, and there was slimy stuff, and coins, and my lungs were on fire now, and- and a curtain was being pulled over my eyes, everything was going dark, I-

A hand closed on my wrist and pulled me up. Delicious fresh air flooded my lungs, bringing me back from the brink of death. "Oh, God," I choked, coughing hard. It was a good pain. "I- where- I-"

"Do take it easy," said a familiar voice. "Good heavens, what on earth-?"

"Harley," I rasped. "Which- which way did-"

"I haven't a clue," Alfred said as he helped me out of the water. Alfred! Oh, that dear, sweet gentleman! "Actually, I daresay this is beginning to feel a trifle familiar; were you and Miss Quinn involved in another argument?"

"I guess," I gagged, massaging my throat. "God... I can't believe I almost let a foot of water kill me!"

"It would be a rather unfitting demise for a Gotham Knight," he conceded.

"She... she ran off again. I don't want to go looking for her, I'm- I'm afraid I won't be as lucky as last time. What if-"

"What's going on out here?"

Perfect. "Nothing, Daddy. I... I was-"

"Playing in the fountain?" He was smiling to himself the same way he does when looking through my more embarrassing family albums. Ooh, that was infuriating! "I thought you were too old for things like that."

"Oh, stuff it." Delicately, I peeled off my heels, flexing my soggy toes as I let the water drain from the shoes. "I'd really appreciate being left alone for a while, actually."

"Of course, Miss Gordon." Alfred bowed slightly before heading back inside, but I wasn't so lucky with my father. He waited a moment for me to pull a few pennies out of my cleavage, then sat down next to me.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Come on, pumpkin. What's all this about?"

I sighed. He was going to keep needling until I gave him something. "Just... girl stuff. It'll be fine, I just... I tripped, and now I'm all waterlogged. Can I be alone for a while?"

He hesitated, moustache bristling. He'd had plenty of experience fighting his fatherly instincts, trying to let me live my own life, but that didn't mean they went away. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Sure. You'll be all right out here by yourself?"

"Yeah."

And then I was alone with my thoughts. That was a scary prospect, but I knew it was going to happen eventually. I wasn't ready, I didn't have the stomach for it, I can't allow-

She loves me. How is that possible? Me? And why, what's so special about me? Public librarian, no social life... no interesting hobbies. Well, unless you count putting on black spandex and a yellow cape, jumping from building to building and beating up crooks as a hobby, I guess... but then again, who didn't do that on a slow Saturday?

And there was another thing, and maybe it made me old-fashioned, or closed-minded or whatever, but... I was a girl. And she was a girl. I'd never shown any interest in other girls in front of her, had I? Not unless it was unconsciously. What would give her the idea that we could ever have a relationship like that? It could never work; I liked men, always had. Even during that experimental freshman year of college where everyone does and tries whatever they want, not once did I look at or contemplate being with another woman. Didn't pique my interest.

But Harley liked me. Maybe I did have some quality I was unaware of that attracted the same gender instead of the opposite. Was that why I'd barely ever had a date - much less a steady boyfriend? Did I have male pheromones or something? I didn't feel very male...

But now I was shivering. Cold and wet, and confused. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, but instead I just felt cold, inside and out. Everything had gone so far, become way more complicated than it ought to be. Friends could be friends, couldn't they? Things didn't have to get weird.

On the other hoof, why did I have her for a best friend, anyway? I was a normal Gothamite, a fine, upstanding citizen. So were my parents. So was Bruce, after a fashion. But my best friend? She was a psychologist-turned-harlequin, had been disowned by her parents, almost died in an asylum, and she used to have pet hyenas. Intelligently, we were the last two people who should try to become drinking buddies, so it was only natural that a few incomprehensible developments should come along and shake what we thought was safe passage.

And what the hell was I trying to tell myself? It wasn't weird that it was weird? That makes no sense whatsoever!

"At-choo!"

Now I was really cold. I should go inside, find an empty room with a fireplace - but I couldn't face any of them, not now. Maybe I should stay out here, let hypothermia set in and give me pneumonia... let myself die. It'd be easier than figuring out what I was supposed to do.

"Here."

Warm, velvety fur glided over my back and shoulders, wrapping me tightly. I tensed; what was it? But when I turned, of course...

"Oh, Harley," I breathed. "Harley, I- I-"

"I'm leaving Gotham."

My mind went blank again. Too much. I was fast approaching information overload.

"No, you're not."

"Tonight." She wiped at her eyes, but her tone was dead level; she was sitting fairly closeby. "I- I wanted to just run off, skip out nice and clean-like, but I didn't want you to try followin' me and end up in another fountain."

"Shut up," I muttered, pulling her coat yet more tightly about my shoulders. "Your fault, anyway."

"I know. But... but now ya won't have to worry about it anymore, right? I'll be outta your hair."

"Don't."

Only now did her voice crack the slightest bit. "I gotta. I... I can't do this to you. It was bad enough when I was your roomie, I bet. Wouldn't wanna be the best friend who keeps trying to push things too far. I hate jerks like that."

"Harley?"

"Yeah?"

Not knowing what else to do, I tipped over, letting my head fall into her lap. My fingernails dug through blue cloth into one of her warm, soft thighs; anything to prevent her from escaping. "Please... stay."

"I- I can't, I- this is so- ya don't-"

"Please."

One of her hands came to rest on my hair, fingers tracing their way through automatically. "B-but... what'll we do?"

"I don't care."

"You have to care." Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper now. "I'm trouble, y'know. A- and I don't even know what to feel anymore myself, but I don't want you hurt or- or-"

"We can't figure it out if you leave."

I was making a wet spot on her dress. She might have to return it, now. I felt awful, like a callous bitch who was ruining everything. If only I could... I don't know. I honestly didn't know what I wanted, what she wanted from me, what we were supposed to do now. I was utterly terrified, but as long as my head was in her lap she couldn't run off, couldn't abandon me to figure all this stuff out on my own. I didn't think I could manage.

"I'll stay."

"Okay."

Then I was able to cry myself to sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . ۞ . . . . . . . . . . . .

I tried. I tried everything I could think of, and it happened anyway. The kicker? I couldn't even run away from this, now. Not with her asleep in my lap, trusting, depending on me to stick around.

What was an ex-villain to do?

END SESSION