Author Note: My goodness, it's been awhile hasn't it? Here I promised you it would take me less time, and I maybe managed to beat the turn around time for the last chapter by like a week. I'm so sorry. I hope this chapter is worth the wait.
I would like to take a moment to thank everyone that has reached out to me through reviews and PM's. Please keep them coming, if you would be so kind. Let me know what I'm doing right and what you would like to see in the future. Your words of support and encouragement mean so much. I was honestly blown away by the overwhelmingly positive response the last chapter received. I just hope that this story can continue to impress.
Also, I would like to note that I have made a tumblr blog for this story and the things that inspire it. If you would like to check it out, you can find it at .com.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for reading and giving me the honor of sharing my story with you.
"Don't wanna love you no more
Don't wanna love you less
I wanna be crushed by your sweet caress
What's the fucking difference
We're all gonna die
You wanna do something killer
Come on, give it a try"
~Queens of the Stone Age "You've Got A Killer Scene There, Man"
"This is your stop, cupcake."
Harley blinked, eyes straining against the glare of streetlights. Though she was uncertain how long they had been driving, the road had become a blur of synthetic light and piercing darkness. The clock on the dashboard read 4:32am.
Slowly she began to adjust to being stationary and looked about the world around her. The towering trees and glow of neon and fluorescents that illuminated J's sneer as he sized her up, his tongue flicking over his lips in irritation. It took Harley's drive-hazed mind longer than necessary to realize they were not in the Narrows, her old apartment nowhere in sight.
Instead they were parked in front of an old motel in an area she did not recognize. Judging by the large trees and star-speckled sky, she very much doubted they were even in Gotham anymore.
"Where are we?" Half of the question came out as a yawn.
By the way he smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes, she knew he was still angry. The memory of his fury was so fresh in her mind, every word spit from his teeth leaving her flayed alive and raw. Seeing such blatant disgust in his eyes had her biting back a fresh wave of tears.
"I told you, this is your stop." He poked the unlock button on the door a few times as though proving a point.
Irritation rose from her depths, anger surging up like a tidal wave ready to drown him. If seeing her so heartbroken over his rejection had not won her an ounce of pity, she would find a new way to keep him by her side. There was enough fight in her to outlast his stubborn anger and she would gladly waste his time sitting arguing her case until he agreed to keep her around.
"I heard you the first time, the problem is you're not making any sense." Her hands curled into fists in her lap. "I don't know where we are, this isn't my apartment, and frankly I don't like the look of the place. You can't just leave me here and act like this gross fucking motel is a perfectly logical place to abandon me!"
By the end of the statement she was screaming at him, eyes burning into his. He shrugged and his neck popped. Glancing at the building beside them, he sighed heavily and shook his head.
"Get out of the car, sweetheart."
Furrowing her brow, she followed his eyes to the nearly empty lot outside. The SUV was running, the gearshift still positioned in drive. If she left the car now, there was not a doubt in her mind he would leave her without a second thought.
"No! You can't make me!" White knuckled fingers gripped her seat as though it would save her from his rejection.
Growling out a low threat, he unclipped her seatbelt and pointed out the door. "I am not gonna leave you, Harley, just get out."
"No! The second I get out of this car you're going to leave! You're gonna drive away with all of my shit and leave me for the meth heads that are probably hiding behind this shady fucking motel."
Throwing the car into park, he killed the engine and huffed. "You are reaaallyyy close to my last nerve, you know that? It would be in your best in-ter-ests to do as I say. Get out of the car, Harleyyy."
There was no mistaking the venom in his words, but like a stubborn child she refused to cooperate. "You first!"
For a moment he looked absolutely livid. Lips peeled back from his teeth and he snarled as though readying himself for the attack.
And then he sighed, opened his car door, and took the keys from the ignition.
In one fluid motion he slid out of the car and slammed his door before coming around to the passenger side. Wrenching her door open, he took hold of her arm, but made no move to actually pull her from the vehicle.
"Are you gonna get out, or am I going to have to drag you, hmm?" He rolled his eyes and she was almost certain the right one twitched.
She didn't respond. Could hardly hold back the sob that built in her throat in the face of his rage. This whole night had been so horribly overwhelming and she could not cope with his condescension.
"Please don't…" Her voice broke, much to her dismay.
Dreading the very idea of allowing him to see her cry again, she slipped out of the car. Didn't even look him in the eye as she bounced out of her seat and landed next to him on the pavement, throwing his hand off like a spider. With a shrug, she turned to the back door to retrieve her bags. Refused to so much as acknowledge his presence as he leered over her.
"We don't have time for this," he hissed.
In an instant he was on her, slamming the door as she attempted to open it and spun her around like a ragdoll.
Bruising fingers dug into her upper arm and she let out a cry of pain and frustration. Her entire body seemed to go rigid beneath his touch and tears stung her eyes. She didn't fight them this time, even welcomed their stains on her cheeks and the boiling rage they displayed.
Frustrated and hopeless, she let out a sob as her back connected with the car door. Every fiber of her being felt heavy, her mind too spent to process the turmoil of the past day. All she knew was that she hurt and she wanted nothing more than to make him hurt in any way she could manage.
As he brought his face close to hers, she raised a hand and slapped him so hard her palm stung. Her fingernails dug into the scar tissue of his cheek, leaving garish red lines in their wake. Head snapping sideways, J let out that knee jerk chuckle that always accompanied pain.
Harley knew immediately that she had made a mistake.
His head fell forward and she could feel his eyes burning into her through the veil of stringy green curls that fell in his face. And then he laughed, a quiet breath that quickly grew to a manic cackle as he grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the SUV.
"Now, that wasn't very nice." He bared his teeth in a grin that made her insides freeze. "Are you gonna say you're sorry? Hmm?"
Unable to continue staring into those black hole eyes, Harley shook her head and looked down to her feet. Immediately his hand was gripping her jaw, forcing her face to level with his.
"Look at me." The words were ground out against his teeth, their venom stinging her skin as he pressed his chest against hers. "Haaaarrrleeeey. Look at me."
Her chest seemed to constrict around her pounding heart. Eyes stinging, she buried her face against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
Smirking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. "Oh… trust me, sugar, you're gonna be."
Still gripping her wrists like a vice, he turned and led her toward the seedy motel. She wanted to protest, wanted to scream and yell and refuse to leave the car.
This motel was a death sentence for their life together. The moment he put her in that room he would leave and she would never see him again. He had told her to get out and she knew he meant it. After all they had been through, all she had done and sacrificed for him, she couldn't let it end here.
As they neared the door, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it hastily, shoving her inside the moment it opened. Stumbling, she looked around the dark room feeling like a child terrified of the creeping unknown of surrounding darkness.
He leaned into the doorway and sneered when she turned back toward the door in attempts to escape. "Stay. Here."
Panic bloomed deep within her and she shook her head insistently. "No, no, J please." She reached out and gripped his collar, desperate to keep him near. "Please, please don't leave me."
For a moment he stared at her strangely, as though he did not understand what was being asked. The rage contorting his face softened ever so slightly as he noticed her white knuckles gripping the lapels of his jacket. Her grip tightened, tears falling freely as anguished sobs shook her shoulders.
Carefully he took hold of her hands, eyes catching hers as he sucked on his scars. "Sweetheart, Daddy has to go get your bags and finish up some business. Stay here and make yourself comfortable."
With a measured shove, he pushed her into the encroaching darkness of the motel room. Immediately she tried to run for the door, but he caught her shoulders again and held her tightly in place.
"You're going to leave!" Her voice shook, hands trembled. "You say you're just going to get my stuff, but you're going to get in the car and leave. I know it!"
Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily and stepped fully into the room, flicking the light on as he went. He dropped his hands and watched her for a moment, searching for any hint that she would try to run for the car again. The door snapped shut behind him and he leaned against the frame after a moment to block her exit, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And, uh, whyy would I do that?" His face welcomed an answer, but his eyes remained too black for her to stare into.
That question confused her, had her at a loss for words as she blinked at him. She had been so convinced that he would leave her at the drop of a hat. When he had demanded she get out he had been so angry, she could not possibly imagine him forgiving her so quickly.
"Haarleey." He practically sang her name, stepping away from the door and stalking toward her. "Why would I want to leave you here, hmm?"
A gentle hand reached out and placed a stray curl behind her ear. Teeth digging into her lip, she reveled in the warmth of his touch. Tears she didn't realize were shed stung her lacerations and her lips trembled each time she tried to speak. Admitting she had done wrong felt like a damning herself.
"Because…because you told me to get out. Because I didn't listen. I know you don't even want to look at me. I fucked up too bad this time."
It seemed so obvious as she stated it, but that quizzical look did not leave his features.
He laughed, just a quiet chuckle as he shrugged and traced a gloved thumb along her stitches and brushed a tear from her cheek. "Sugar, I couldn't let you stay in the warehouse after what you did, so we got you out and brought you here. That doesn't mean I'm going to leave you all alone."
Completely taken aback by how seemingly nonchalant he was suddenly acting, Harley stared at him for a long moment. "You're…you're not mad?"
"Mad?" Another chuckle, this one quick and bitter. "Oh, honey, I'm furious. But that doesn't mean I'm going to leave you. No, no, no. I'm going to punish you."
Crossing her arms defiantly, Harley scoffed at the comment. "Punish me? What? Are you going to spank me again?"
"Don't tempt me, sweetheart." His eyes raked shamelessly over her figure as he came to stand nearly flush against her. "But, no, I don't think so. You need to actually learn your lesson for this one. Maybe I should leave ya alone for the night, hmm? Give you some time to think about what you did. Do you think that would teach you to do as I say?"
Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not a child, I don't need to sit with my nose in the corner or go to my room. Are you going to fucking ground me? Not like I get to do anything anyway!"
He pressed a finger to her lips, his face growing suddenly dark.
"Shhhshshsh, stop talking sugar." With a put-upon sigh, he glanced up to the ceiling as though searching for support from some unseen god. "Just when I think you're coming around, that mouth of yours get you into even more trouble."
Somewhere deep in her gut there was the compulsive urge to take her words from the air and swallow them whole. Completely erase her fire from his memory so that he would bring her into his arms once more and love her the way she so desperately wanted him to. Maybe if she just stopped talking back…
NO! NO! NO!
She knew better than that, better than to let some man dictate how she should feel and what she should say. Nothing could douse her fire, not even his scrutiny and chiding words. Though her temper was admittedly short, she had reason to be upset. It was just as legitimate as his frustration with her.
Pushing away from him, she shook her head. "You're being an asshole, you know that? I have done nothing…"
Without missing a beat, he shook his head and began advancing on her again. "Yoouu broke the rules."
"Whose rules? Yours?" Taking a few steps back, she curled her hands to fists and raised her chin in defiance. "You do nothing but go on about how pointless the world's rules and laws are because you're such a fucking edgy anarchist, but I step a toe out of line and you get angry and threaten me. You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?"
Blood red tongue prodding the crease of his scars, he tried to shrink her with void black eyes. "I'm trying to protect you."
Harley snorted. "You did a great job of that, didn't you? You watched that fucker threaten to rape and kill me!"
"You're still breathing, aren't ya? Your, uh, lady parts weren't violated. " Clicking his tongue, he tilted his head to a painful looking angle. "He would have killed you if I hadn't been there."
That last thought was nearly a whisper that could have been mistaken for a threat had she not seen the way his eyes glimmered for just a moment in the dim light of the hotel room. Harley's heart nearly stopped at such a show of real fear, but still she refused to give in to his sentiment. Fear did not change the fact he had forced her to carve that man alive.
"I protected myself, though, didn't I?" Her voice barely quivered with the memory. "I rammed a knife into his wrist and then…"
The rest of the thought nearly made her sick and she swallowed thickly around the sudden lump in her throat.
A grin wide enough to show all his teeth took J's face. "And then what, sugar?"
It was as though he fed on her weakness. Were he a god, each drop of acidic fear and regret that lingered within her would have been offered up as a sign of worship. She was a priestess sacrificing blood upon his pagan altar in hopes of a few fleeting blessings.
Setting her jaw, Harley shrugged. "And then we carved him up to remind him who he was dealing with."
J stood straight, seemingly impressed by the sudden chill in her words. "Yes we did...But you wouldn't have been able to do it without me, would you, sugar?"
Harley frowned. Some gods were never satisfied.
Bristling, she glared every ounce of fury she could muster straight into those black hole eyes of his. "Maybe I would have surprised you. I can protect myself, you know."
"Is that so?" He quirked an eyebrow, began tilting his head side to side and slowly working his shoulders loose. "Prove it."
The speed with which he lunged at her didn't seem quite human and he was on her in a second, forcing her back against the wall and wrapping his hands around her throat. Gasping for breath and reeling from the sudden escalation, she struggled to remember anything she had learned in that self-defense class during her sophomore year of college. If he wanted her to prove she was able to protect herself, she would give him all the fight he wanted and more.
Slowly she began to assess the weak points in his attack, slammed her arms against the inside of his elbows to force his hands from her throat. The moment she could breathe, she shoved him back. He hardly stumbled, growling as he lashed out as though to grab her, but she ducked away just in time. Keeping her momentum, she twirled around him as though dancing to a long-forgotten song.
Each twist of her body and sway of her arms had to be perfectly calculated. She landed a blow to his ribs that she traded for a grab at her arm that nearly threw off her balance. And then his leg caught her ankle and she fell to the floor with a grunt of disappointment.
Rolling back to her feet, she came around behind him and ran with reckless abandon. She pounced like a cat on a fly, wrapped herself around him and held tight. There was a hint of surprise in the swear he let fly as he spun and clawed at her arms digging into his throat. The wall met her back with more force than she had expected, but she clung to him through the stars that exploded behind her eyelids.
His hand went to her hair, grabbed it near the scalp and yanked hard enough to make her cry out. Still she clung to him, her vision tingeing red as she wrapped more tightly around him. Against her forearm she could feel his muscles tighten as he wheezed for breath.
"Harley!" He coughed and stumbled toward the bed. "Can't…breathe…"
Again his hands tugged at her arms, more desperate than last time. He seemed weak and this time she did let up for fear of hurting him.
Immediately she regretted it as his body swayed suddenly to the right and she lost her grip. The edge of the bed attempted to catch her, but her falling trajectory was wrong and she tumbled to the floor with a groan.
This side of his foot tapped her side just enough to sting.
"You're not giving up yet, are you, sugar?" His voice was horase, but the challenge rang true and Harley rose to it.
Climbed to her feet a little unsteadily, but squared up to face him with a smirk. "Not a chance."
He came at her swinging, snarling like an animal as she squeaked and sidestepped the attack. A blocked punch to the ribs, careful steps and claws on wool. He swung at her and she put her gymnastics skills to use, arching into a backbend. Her feet kicked up over her head and she was upright in one smooth motion that had him whistling and mocking applause.
Without hesitation she aimed a kick to his stomach and he grabbed her ankle. Would have pulled her clean off her feet had she not been ready for him and used the momentum to drop into a handstand and bounce back to her feet with long forgotten grace.
They spun and swore and teased threats while neither actually landed a blow to the other. The right hook she threw at his face was deflected easily and when she continued to spin and nearly connected with the back of his skull, he caught her arm and gave her a playful swat on the ass.
She giggled and slapped his hand away, realizing quite suddenly that he was flirting with her. They were roughhousing like children, both giggling and taking care not to actually hurt the other and it was deteriorating into foreplay.
They were a chemical reaction, all acids and bases that never managed to find balance. This play-fighting was just the show, the sparks and bubbles. But she was ready for more than show, she wanted ions and fire and permanent bonds. For their individual elements to collide and become something new and more dangerous as one.
Narrowly dodging a blow to her ribs, she held tight to his wrist and side-stepped. Pressed her body against his for one electric second and grabbed his tie to pull closer, her lips inches from his. He drew in a breath, half-lidded eyes sweeping across her face before he shoved her away.
This time when he took a swing at her ribs she didn't try to deflect or dodge, and moment he realized what she was doing he pulled the punch and instead made a grab at her shirt. Laughing with delight, she allowed herself to be pulled against him once more. Arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her skyward, tossing her onto the bed carelessly. She bounced once, the entire room a blur of color and her laughter ringing off the ceiling.
And then there was weight on her hips – his full weight – as he straddled her and gathered her wrists in one hand. Their ragged breath filled the air, his body pressing against her and pinning her down.
Loosening the tie around his neck, he sighed and grinned down at her. "Not bad, sugar."
Pride swelled in her chest and she smiled right back as he managed to finish unknotting his tie and pulled it from around his neck.
"I told you I could defend myself," she said matter-of-factly and he didn't argue.
Her face hurt from smiling, suddenly intimately aware of their closeness and the heat of his body. Rough housing had been so chaotic, so unexpected, but the act had purged the anger from her mind. Now, with him carefully undressing on top of her, all she could feel was the anticipation tensing her limbs.
She tried to hold it at bay, to tend to more important matters before she gave in to desire. The entire day had been one endless stream of stress and chaos and all she wanted was to make things right for both of them.
"I really am sorry, you know?" Her throat felt tight admitting it, but a weight lifted from her with the words. "If I would have known, I wouldn't have gone snooping."
His eyes slipped shut and he nodded, his nose brushing hers. "I know, sugar."
"I really didn't want to cause trouble. I just wanted to know what you were hiding from me. That's why you didn't want me to go in the receiving dock, isn't it? Because you knew I would figure out your plan and you were afraid I'd be angry."
When he didn't reply she feared she had struck a nerve and worked quickly to cover her tracks. Pushing herself up slightly, she pressed her lips to his. When he didn't immediately reply, she pressed her chest flush against his and arched her back with a sigh.
Slowly, so slowly, he began to come around to her. To press against her and inhale the scent of her skin as his lips worked against hers.
She smiled at that, reveled in the taste of his tongue and his body beginning to mold to hers. His lips moved to her jaw, her neck, and she egged him on with enthusiastic sighs. Though it had only been a day, maybe two, since they had fucked against the wall in the warehouse it felt like ages. Like she had been denied his touch for longer than she could stand and needed it like breath in her lungs or blood in her veins.
Warm hands traced the trail of her arms, pressed against her breasts, and came to settle on the hem of her shirt. With careful precision, he pushed the fabric up and over her head, hardly breaking away from her as he did so. Her entire body quaked with anticipation, electric limbs pushing the coat from his shoulders and tangling in his hair.
She undulated against him, smirking as his breath caught and he whispered her name against her flushed neck and shoulder. Lifting her slightly, he unhooked her bra and slipped it off before sucking and licking his way down her sternum, leaving purple marks like kisses.
Her hands roamed over his shoulders, his chest, and when he again took her hands in his and placed them delicately over her head, she did not fight him. She was too lost in his touch, too overcome by anticipation to notice the silk that ghosted over her skin.
And then he pulled back, an exaggerated frown tugging at his scars as he let out a sigh. "You let your guard down, sweetheart."
She raised a sardonic eyebrow. "So?"
That silken tie wound about her wrists, snaking around and between them to bind her hands tight. Her heart began to pound as realization set in and she felt a surge of panic mix her raw anticipation.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, trying halfheartedly to get free before he finished tying her.
"Shhshshsh." It was clear he was trying not to laugh as he held her wrists down and lay atop her with his entire weight. "We're just going to play a little game."
Pressing his lips to her forehead almost tenderly, he tightened the knot and she could feel him smile at the way she giggled and shrieked in mock horror. With little effort he pulled her up the bed and finished binding her with a flourish.
"What kind of game?" Her breath was ragged, hands twisting within their prison to test its limits. Though she could still move easily enough, there would be no escape until he freed her.
It should not have surprised her that his expert knots were so difficult to escape considering how quickly he had bound her, how doing so seemed to be as natural as tying his shoes. The harder she tried to fight, the tighter that knot became until it was just shy of uncomfortable.
"Do you trust me, Harley?" His face was suddenly serious as his hand went to his belt and he began to undo it.
Swallowing hard, she considered the question carefully before replying. "Why else would I have dropped my guard so easily?"
A lazy smile took his lips and he rewarded her with a kiss for that answer. A quick brush of his lips, barely lingering, but enough to make her insides dance and twist.
When he pulled back, his black leather belt was already in his hands. He made quick work of looping it over the tie binding her wrists and attaching it to the headboard, completely securing her to the bed.
It occurred to her that this would leave him free to walk away, if he wanted. That she would have no way to keep him from just getting up and locking her in that hotel room until the maids found her in the morning.
Much to her delight, he seemed far more interested watching her adapt to her current predicament and made no move to leave. She gave the binding on her wrists a few experimental tugs against the belt securing them, feeling heat rush straight to her groin. Never before had she experienced this level of vulnerability and it was more of a thrill than she had anticipated.
"So," he said conversationally, sinking back on his heels and fishing a knife from his pocket. "You think that your little jaunt around the receiving dock gave you the inside scoop on my big plans for the police taking the Batman into custody?"
He cocked his head, waiting for her to respond, but she could not find the words. After a moment he sighed, eyes twinkling with whatever mischief he had in store for her as he motioned for her to say something – anything – but should found herself incapable. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she shrugged in response.
"That's not an answer, sugar." The switchblade he'd taken from his pocket gleamed in the golden glow of the room and for a moment Harley found herself absolutely paralyzed with fear.
Her mind suddenly overcome with questions and horrible fears, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling within her. If she focused on it, she could still feel Victor Zsasz cutting her open with a very similar knife, she could still hear the screams of the man she and J had just ripped open like deer ready to be gutted after a hunt.
It would take little effort for J to do the same to her. Though she still had her legs to fight him off, she wasn't sure how much time they would ultimately buy her, and though she knew deep down he had no intention of hurting her, the panic was too raw to talk herself down from.
As though reading her thoughts, he glanced down at the knife and frowned.
"You know better than to think I'd use this on you, sugar." With exaggerated movements, he set the knife carefully on the bedside table. "We just might need it later to get you free."
He giggled and winked at her, but she did not find the prospect as amusing as he.
"So what are you going to do to me?" Her voice shook slightly as fear gave way to anticipation.
"I told ya, sugar, we're gonna play a game." That smile of his had the devil in it as he began to undo the buttons of his shirt. "See I'm not convinced that you figured out all you needed to know about my plans just by seeing my boys work. I was trying to keep you out of there for your own safety, not because of some secret mission. But now you've got me curious. How much do you know?"
Harley opened her mouth to reply, but he shook his head and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"That's what the game is for, sweetheart." He peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. "Don't ruin all the fun before it's started. See, I've also been promising you a lesson in patience for a while now, haven't I?"
She nodded, the synapses of her brain beginning to piece together what he had in store for her.
"So you're going to tease me until I tell you everything you want to hear?" she guessed, biting back a grin when he winked at her.
"You're good at this already, sugar." His fingers hooked onto the elastic waistband of her sweatpants and he pulled them slowly down her legs, leaving her naked except for her red panties. "And for every part you piece together, I'll make sure you're well rewarded."
Already her pulse was quick, her skin beginning to itch with tension. "What happens if I get something wrong?"
"Well, then you don't get touched again until you get something right."
"And what if I don't get any of it right?"
He snorted. "That would be a real shame considering how bad you want me to fuck you."
For a moment he sat back on his heels and she was granted the first real look at his naked chest that she had seen since all the chaos began with the mob, since that night in the tacticians' house when they first made love. Though it been mere days since that first encounter, it felt like another lifetime. She hadn't noticed the bruises then, the deep purple and yellow blossoms spread across his ribs and back, or the scars scattered across his chest that made it appear he'd gone diving in glass. The little white lines drew highways across his skin and she could not help wondering how he had come to own every single one.
His hand traced her ribs to her hipbones, coming to tease the elastic of her panties. Trying to prepare herself for the inevitable torture that lay ahead, she drew her attention back to him and the way he was memorizing her every curve.
"And if I figure it all out?" she asked, pansy-blue eyes catching his.
"If you figure it all out?" he echoed and smirked.
Crawling up her body, he took her face in his hands and kissed her hard enough to make her head swim. His hips lined up with hers and she could feel his arousal, already erect and pressing against her through fabric. He allowed her two rolls of her hips, so desperate and satisfying that she actually gasped and moaned at the contact as though he was already fucking her.
He chuckled at the noise of disappointment she made when he backed away. "If you figure it all out I'll fuck you until we both pass out from exhaustion."
Shaking her head, she pulled a face. "No, I don't think that's good enough. You can fuck me to the point of exhaustion if I get most of it, if I'm in the ballpark. I want something more for figuring out the whole damn thing."
The face he made told her exactly how likely he thought the odds of her figuring out his entire plan were. It was a challenge she gladly accepted, anxious to hear how he would up the stakes.
"Fine." Pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, he began to tease his fingers against her through the fabric of her panties. "If you figure out the whole thing I will let you take control. You call all the shots and I'll do whatever you want. You can come as many times as you like and I'll fuck you til you tell me to stop. How about that?"
"Sounds fun." She moved against his fingers, and gasped when he rewarded her with a more insistent touch. "Can I have hints if I ask for them? I don't have all the necessary information, after all, and it only seems ffff – ah – fair."
Already she could feel him beginning to distract her and realized how difficult it could actually be to keep her head straight through this. Still, she knew it would only take one good orgasm to satisfy her and the rest of his game could be damned after that point. Everything else was simply for fun and the promise of eventual control.
After a moment of considering her proposal, he nodded his agreement and she knew he was as desperate to begin this game as she. "Three. You can have three hints."
Satisfied, she began to strategize how exactly to finish the game as quickly as possible. "Alright. And if I am right up to a certain point, I just have to start over from there, right?"
He laughed, impatient fingers running down her thighs and tapping against her knees. "You ask an awful lot of questions, you know that?"
Shrugging as best she could, she gave him a sly grin. "I'm just trying to make sure I understand the rules."
"Best way to live in this world is without rules, sugar."
"So you've told me."
"And yet, I haven't convinced you."
"You're getting there."
That made him smile, a look that was both genuine and unnerving in its rabid delight.
And that was all it took for her mind to kick into gear, for the pieces of the puzzle to be extracted and stacked together. The map, the semi-truck, the collection of weapons, the man they had cut open and Zak had been instructed to "stuff." It all fit together, even if it felt disjointed.
Some invisible line connected each piece in just the right order, but currently they felt like pieces of ice scatter across the floor. The ultimate goal, she knew, was to do away with the Batman in some way, but that didn't feel like quite the right answer.
Batman was yet another game to the Joker, and Harley knew it was one he intended to draw out for as long as possible like a game of Risk. To the Joker, Batman was a war in and of himself and war games were not won in one chaotic night, if they ever were won at all.
No, Batman was not the real reason for the coming venture, and Harley had no idea what could possibly inspire J to put together such a bold and dangerous plan if not the Bat. Ultimately it was all a satire on law and rules; that much was clear to her. While Batman upheld the law with his own brand of justice and an iron fist that had Gotham's underground holed up in their best hiding places, the people actually meant to uphold the law were worse than some of the criminal. And then there was the Joker, with his anarchy and hate and total disregard for morality. A criminal through and through, but one that had robbed the mob blind and taken out one of their biggest crime bosses just for a taste of revenge.
The pieces seemed to scatter in her mind and she looked down at J as though his eyes could clue her in on something.
"Where would you like me to start?" she asked, twisting her hands against the knots that held them.
"Using your first clue already?" Raising an eyebrow, he shrugged and sat back on his heels.
"No, that's not-
But he was already answering her and she could feel herself bristle as he spoke slowly, as though explaining to a child. "Tomorrow morning Harvey Dent is holding a press conference…"
"Because the Batman intends on turning himself in," Harley finished, disappointed and angry that she had allowed him to take away one of her clues so quickly.
Nodding in approval, J slid his hand beneath the fabric of her panties and ran a finger through her already wet folds. Her breath caught, but only for a moment before she gathered her mind and carried on, trying to ignore the sensation of his touch.
"You told that guy at the door that you were certain Harvey Dent would claim he was the Batman, though whether or not he actually is…" She trailed off, momentarily forgetting how to use her tongue as he began rubbing circles around her clit.
Drawing a deep breath, she locked eyes with him and went on. "It's really unlikely that Harvey Dent is the Batman, but whether it's him or someone else, you have a fucking arsenal ready to break them out of the Major Crimes Unit and dispose of the Batman your own way."
But even as she finished speaking, he was shaking his head and pulling away from her. Immediately she missed the contact, but refused to beg for it. She had answered incorrectly, which meant the only way to convince him to touch her again was to do better.
"Come on, sugar, this isn't amateur hour." He smirked at the way she shifted slightly and tried to keep her face passive as her bound hands curled into fists.
"Right, you're convinced Harvey Dent isn't Batman." Her mouth pressed in a tight line as she did her best not to argue the contrary.
"That's because he isn't, sugar. Your buddy Tom saw the two of them having a conversation, and it wasn't Harvey Dent talking to his second personality."
Rolling her eyes, she conceded the point. "Fine. So, Harvey Dent isn't the real Batman, but he is going to say that he is, which means the police will arrest him in the real Batman's place."
"Good girl." With an approving nod, he slipped her panties off completely, waiting for her to go on before touching her again.
Carefully she spun and flipped the clues in her mind until she was certain how the next few pieces fit together. "So, the first place they'll take him is the local precinct, and from there they will likely have to transfer him to county."
That observation earned her kisses on her inner thigh, his tongue and teeth nearly working her into a frenzy as hot breath came close to her sex.
"And when they do…" She pulled against the bonds on her wrists just to feel them sting her skin and distract from the ache of carnal need. "When they do, you'll…goddammit…you'll fucking…. I don't know. Chase them down in that fucking semi truck?"
It didn't seem like the right answer, not by a long shot, and yet he moaned low in his throat before burying his face between her thighs. It felt like an absolute miracle and she cried out in complete ecstasy. Reveled in the sensation of him consuming her whole until her lack of response brought his movement to a halt.
Desperate for him to continue, she tried to find the words to carry on, still reeling from her last correct answer.
"So…so what? You're going to chase the car with Harvey Dent until you catch him?"
No, no, that wasn't right and his teeth digging a little too hard into the skin of her thigh sent the message loud and clear.
Try again.
"You're going to chase the convoy until…until…um…fuck." He bit down harder and she whimpered in pain, desperate for an answer that would make it stop. "Until you get Batman's attention?"
Correct.
Again he began to tease her, refusing to give her any real satisfaction until she made a significant revelation. She twisted and writhed, almost gave in to the urge to beg for his touch.
"Okay, so you wait for Batman to find you and…and…well, either you kill him or he stops you, I guess?" She remembered this, remembered the map with the streets of Gotham and the precinct circled. The fact he had called it a destination. "You want him to stop you, you want to be caught. You're just making a big scene until they stuff you into a squad car and take you back to the station. You and the rest of the boys, right? Zak and, uh, Melvin for certain because he's your escape plan. What are they going to stuff him with anyway?"
Lifting his head, he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Would you like to use your second clue?"
He sounded like a game show host and Harley giggled as she considered the offer.
"No," she decided. "Not yet."
Lifting his eyebrows as though surprised, he bent his head and returned to the task at hand. She gasped, rolling her hips to egg him on and he rewarded her effort this time, pushed two fingers into her just to listen to her choke on her own breath with how good it felt.
When she stopped responding with words, too lost in sensation to so much as think straight, he sucked on her clit just a little too hard and she fell back to her mind with a surprised shriek.
"Right, okay, okay." Panting for breath, she tried to focus, but found it more difficult than she had ever imagined. "I…I get that youuu…shit. Fuck. FUCK… like, I get that it will be explosives of some kind, yeah? – YES! - I guess the better question would be hhh…how you plan to detonate it. Because once you're in the…mmmmm…Major Crimes Unit all hell is going to break loose. …Can you do that a little bit more? Yeah…just like that!" She nearly lost her train of thought, had to bite her tongue hard enough to taste copper before it returned. "There will be angry cops scared for their lives and wanting to hurt you, and they're going to want to question you, probably. Right? Yessssss. But…mmm…no. They wouldn't – ah - have a good reason to rush into that. They could have you in Arkham before they bothered questioning you."
"Unless I took something valuable from them." His voice was low, eyes burning as met her gaze. "I'll give you that clue for free, sugar."
It became infinitely clear then that the air was becoming too thick and swollen for both of them. It was hard to breathe through the tension and stench of skin and sex. He wanted to fuck her just as badly as she wanted him to and it was nearly unbearable for both of them.
Still, the game was not over and she sensed there was a long way to go in piecing together whatever chaos was kicking about in his mind. She tried to attune herself to it, to meld with his thought waves and follow the strange spirals and bursts.
"Unless I took something valuable from them."
She'd missed a step somewhere, overlooked a key detail. Once J was caught, once they realized that Harvey Dent was not actually Batman, he would be set free. Sent home to his cute little assistant-turned-lover to revel in the bliss of freedom and sweet victory of having the Joker behind bars.
That seemed familiar a ghost of thought lost somewhere in the recesses of her memory. Earlier that night when she had overheard the clowns talking from inside the semi-trailer they had said something…something about having the warehouse set to blow.
"Harvey Dent isn't going to make it home." It was almost a whisper, like some jarring psychic prediction and he stopped moving, but she knew it was not because she was wrong. He was listening. "You or the mob or whoever…you've got the cops paid off and you're going to take him to the warehouse. I heard two of the clowns talking about rigging the place to blow. You're going to kill him. That's why we're here, isn't it? It was never about getting me out of there because I had gotten into trouble, you had this up your sleeve all along. Me pissing you off was just a convenient excuse for you to leave with me in the middle of the night so the clowns would stop thinking you had a weakness. You need their respect, and I was making you soft. But why? Why do you need to be caught? What are you after in the MCU?"
Slithering forward, he licked his way up her neck and sucked her earlobe between his teeth.
"Is that a real question?" Those mangled lips grinned against her skin as she nodded.
"Yes. What are you after in the MCU?"
"The mob's bank roll."
"The mob's…?" Trailing off, she tried to make sense of the words, to remember what had started all of this.
True to form, he went back to distracting her. Devoured her with his tongue, his teeth, and brought his hand between them to tease her intimately.
She was on fire, her brain running with speed she could barely follow. Long forgotten details were pulled to the forefront of her mind as she stared him down just to watch the fire ignite deep in the black pits of his eyes as he dared her to explode before she had all the pieces of his puzzle.
There was the meeting with the mob on the day Victor Zsasz broke into her apartment. The one he never really told her about in detail, but she remembered the end result. He had pissed off the mob, told them the only way to keep their investments safe was to kill the Batman and in return they had send Zsasz to pay her a visit.
The days following that were hazy, but she remembered there being a reason the mob had eventually come around to the Joker's proposition, a reason they hired him even after he robbed them. Something…someone had been taken into custody. A name mentioned in passing that she had found so easy to overlook at the time, back before she was a part of this.
But now she was in the thick of it all and she absolutely needed to remember.
She was part of this now and there was no going back. This night was proving just how in sync she and J really were. How her mind perfectly attuned to his, just as clever and twisted. They were one now, more alike than either of them had ever imagined, and it terrified her just as much as it filled her with pride.
"The accountant!" Her triumphant cry rang off the walls and he cackled at her excitement before rewarding her in kind. "I don't remember his nnname. Lou, maybe? – Ah, fuck - But it's that Chinese guy that Batman brought back frommmm Hong Kong, the one they were going to use – fuckyes - as a witness in the court case against the mob, right?"
"Lau," he clarified, and she could hear him smirking without even looking down at his face. "His name is Lau."
Dark eyes glinting, he pulled back from her and began fumbling with the button of his pants. She had won the first round. Pieced together enough of the plot to convince him to fuck her. It was the sweetest victory she'd ever tasted.
And yet, the revelation was less than satisfying.
"So, you're doing all of this to break the mob's accountant out of jail?" Confounded, she tried to make sense of that, to piece together a better motive.
"It would appear that way, wouldn't it?"
It wasn't a convincing answer. In fact, he didn't appear to believe it himself. Yes, he was breaking into the MCU to set the mob's accountant free, but that was all part of something much bigger.
"So that's not actually why you're doing it," she assumed, trying to adjust her position to get a better look at his face as he towered above her. "That's what you meant when you said you didn't think I'd figure out your whole plan."
Silk burned her wrists as she twisted her hands and arms, trying to pullf back ever so slightly.
"I never said that." Shaking his head violently, he grabbed her legs and pulled her down to him.
She made a face. "You implied it."
Even as he smirked at her all wry and cynical, he was lining up their hips. "Stop talking and let me fuck ya, sugar."
She grinned right back, pulse pounding as he teased the head of his cock against her. "I can multitask."
Silence followed and she recognized it as a challenge. There was more to this than Lau, more than the mob and the law and being taken to the MCU. Details were missing, great chunks of the plan that she didn't even realize existed. She needed to reevaluate the whole thing, go every twist and turn with a fine-toothed comb…
And then he entered her and for a long moment she thought of nothing at all.
Together they hung in stasis, both frozen by the elation of finally being joined. One being torn apart and roughly stitched back together, too awed by their union to do anything besides revel in the sensation of being whole again. His face contorted, moving from pained to blissful and settling somewhere around smug.
It was in that moment that she knew he was ready and the next stage of the game was set in motion.
Lifting her hips, she began to move against him. Doing so while restrained was slightly more difficult than expected, but he soon filled the gaps that left them wanting. They became a machine, a furious mess of movement and violence.
He tried to pull her too far down the bed, her arms tugging painfully against binds that bit into her skin in return. She coaxed him back with the smooth roll of her hips and whispered dares. It was a fight, an extension of their earlier dance of fists and claws, and this time she swore she would pin him down.
She waited until they had found a rhythm, a happy compromise, before beginning to unravel the details of his plot to break Lau from the local precinct. It bothered her how basic it all seemed, how needlessly dangerous the execution of the whole thing appeared. There had to be something more, something better that he was aiming for. Killing Harvey Dent seemed satisfying, but even that wasn't enough. Another dead public official was not exactly a waste of time, but to make such a show of it seemed a waste of resources and brainpower.
There was something she was missing, overlooking as she skimmed through the information she had been presented. Whatever it was lay deep within the details, something that had seemed small like an offhanded comment or decision.
Her mind kept returning to Harvey Dent. To how integral a part of all of this he seemed to be. Killing him so quickly didn't seem right, didn't even seem plausible. He was the White Knight of Gotham, the district attorney finally bringing the law down on the mob without ever having a scandal to his name.
Not even his relationship with Rachel Dawes brought him any real criticism, despite them being coworkers. Apparently Gotham was fine with public officials fucking their underlings so long as they made a handsome couple.
It was amusing to realize how much disdain she had for that woman. Ever since the night J had come home with her expensive perfume on his coat Harley had seen red at the very mention of her name. At first she had shrugged it off as petty jealousy, but the more she learned about that night the deeper it seemed to run.
From fucking Harvey Dent to the Batman not wasting a moment in jumping out a window after her, Rachel Dawes was the woman that every man in Gotham seemed to want.
At least, those two men. And they seemed to be the two that the Joker had his attention on, which put Rachel Dawes squarely in his radar as well. But her piece didn't fit into the puzzle and Harley felt ready to burn it to save herself the trouble of finding its place.
"Alright, last clue." She threw her head back and arched against him, allowing J to lift her clean off the mattress. "Where…does…Rachel Dawes fit? Mmm … FUCKyesyesyes …. She's …ugh…. she's part of the puzzle. Where? How?"
Jittery hands clawed at her hips and he pulled her against her restraints so hard she actually screamed. Whimpering out a curse, she twisted her hands and tried to pull back. Pins and needles erupted across her skin and the breath she drew through her teeth had more pain than pleasure lacing it.
"Ow, shit." Again she tried to move her hands, but even as they writhed against each other she could hardly feel it. "My hands…my hands hurt so fucking bad."
Teeth digging into her lip, she tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the heat of his skin on hers and the stars she wanted to climb toward. They were too far, those distant galaxies churning just out of her reach as she began to sink from the weight of her pain-clouded mind.
"Jack…" The cry was more insistent this time and loud enough that she was certain he had heard. "I can't feel my hands, Jack. You need to untie me…please."
It was like a switch was thrown somewhere in his mind. She could see him come back to himself all at once, watched the change in his eyes as his hips slowed and he gave her a wry look before pulling back.
"I think you're just saying that," he teased. "What do you need your hands for anyway?"
Even as he said it he was easing her back up toward the headboard, grinning as he leaned over and took his switchblade from the nightstand. Settling against the mattress, she shrugged and then went very still as that knife hovered over her.
"It wasn't the hands so much as the pain." Though she knew he would not harm her, it seemed infinitely more advisable to stay still as he began to slice through the first knot. "I was never going to get off if that pain didn't stop."
"The idea is to have a bit of both, sugar."
Her right hand came free and fell limply against the pillows. She didn't bother trying to move it.
"Yes, but when the pain is overwhelming there is very little pleasure to be had."
"It all depends on your threshold for it." The left hand came free and he winked at her as he returned the switchblade to the bedside table. "And what you're into."
Sitting up against the headboard, she began to massage feeling back into her dead hands. "I'm really into being able to feel my limbs. And, uh, whatever you were doing right before they went numb."
Slowly the blood began to return and the hot blood hurt more than the numbness. When her hands began to shake he covered them with his own and held tight, allowing her to absorb his warmth.
"I don't remember what I was doing, sugar, I was too busy getting distracted by how good you looked tied up."
She giggled at that, leaning forward to kiss him. With the strain on her arms aleviated, she was more ready than ever to finish this game. Deep down she needed to leave him breathless, sated, and awestruck by her mind matching his. The pieces were all laid out in front of her now and she just needed to convince him to help her fit them in their proper places.
Flexing her hands, she made certain they were working properly before placing them on his shoulders. Together they rose to their knees, chest to chest and hip to hip.
Matching, whole.
"You how I would look even better?" she whispered, her lips barely touching his as she spoke.
"How?" He tried to kiss her, but she pulled back too quick.
"On top of you."
Smirking like every bit of the little minx she was, she gave his shoulders a good shove and sent him sprawling backward. Not wasting a second, she moved up to straddle his hips, positioning herself just above his cock and taking it in her hand.
"Harley!" It was a snarl, a hiss that should have sent fear straight up her spine, but only made her laugh in delight.
"Shhhhh." Tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, she rubbed herself against him. "You let your guard down."
To her great surprise, he didn't fight her, didn't toss her off or deny her completion as punishment. Instead he glared at her, eventually laying back and moving his hands to guide her hips.
"You better make this worth it," he threatened, though his breath was already catching. "If you don't–"
"You'll dump me and get some other girl to figure out your plans while you fuck her, I'm sure." That was probably a little too far, but she suddenly had the devil in her and no control over her tongue.
Careful not to let him dwell on her words, she guided him to her entrance and sank down with a sigh of euphoric relief. It was so new for them, so rich and adventurous. He had allowed her to take control and she knew better than to waste a moment of it. Hunched over with her hands on his chest, she gave a few experimental rolls of her hips to find her rhythm.
And then she rose tall and proud like a statue to keep that pace and brought her hands up to massage her breasts.
"You know, you never answered my question." Her eyes slipped shut and she leaned back slightly, allowing his hands to keep her anchored. "How does Rachel Dawes fit into this? Like, I get that she is something that Harvey Dent and the Batman have in common, but I don't get what you plan to do with her. You tried to throw her out a window and that didn't work, Batman jumped right after her. And that in and of itself seems like enough reason to at least consider Harvey Dent as a candidate for the role. I mean… - ah – obviously he's not, but you don't just ttthhhhhrow yourself out a window after someone you don't give a shhhhhiiiiit about."
Though he didn't answer the question, he kept his eyes on her, saw the sparks in her eyes and allowed her to see the thought through. She would get there eventually on her own and he intended to let her.
"You could kill her and Harvey, but then what are you left with? Two dead attorneys and an even angrier city. It's not…it's not enough." Her movements slowed as she began to fit the pieces together. "You need something better than that, their deaths have to mean something. This is all about proving a point Gotham…it's about making them see the pointless nature of all of their social constructs, and meaningless death doesn't do that. It just leaves us with more blood on our hands."
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her forward, skin to skin, as he began moving for her. That merciless pace of his made her scream and moan with how right it felt. How he always seemed to be claiming her with each desperate thrust.
After a moment he pushed her back up, guiding her hips with his hands. "Sugar, if you're gonna be up there you need to keep up your half of the bargain, got it?"
"Yessss."
"Good."
This time he filled her just right, kept hitting that spot that made her nerves spark and mind tear from her body. Her skin felt too heavy, the entire room too hot and sticky and nearly unbearable. She could nearly taste relief, but she refused to give in until she had proven her worth once and for all.
"You're thinking about this as two separate things." His voice surprised her, all low and hoarse with the breath that was now a chore to drag into his lungs. "See…escaping the precinct and threatening Harvey Dent is all related. I'm taking something the cops care about..."
"And if you take Rachel Dawes too, you'll take something both Harvey and the Batman cares about." Finishing the thought felt like second nature, a code in her brain dusted off and put to the test after years of lying dormant. "You're separating them. Cops go to save Harvey, Batman goes after Rachel. And whatever team fails – if one of them fails – will be viewed as responsible. The survivor's guilt would be overwhelming… But what if both of them survive?"
Rolling his eyes, he gripped her thighs and picked up his pace and she followed his lead. "Then I fucked something up, but…"
"But it doesn't matter because you still got Lau out, right? You'll still be able find the mob's money." A few gears turned in her mind and something clicked into place, something that had her grinning as she collapsed forward and intertwined their fingers. "You'll have the whole goddamn mob in one place, if that happens. Including their accountant. You can kill every single one of the fuckers and take their money, and you're gonna do it for me, aren't you?"
Their eyes met and she saw it then. Pride lit those impossibly black eyes and she swore there was a bit of awe mixing with it. That was it, the jigsaw puzzle, just as complete as it was abstract. All the pieces fit, the elaborate mess of it all splayed out around them and she and J at the center of it. The eye of the storm with all of its fury and violence, more powerful than the city could possibly imagine.
"You want me to?" he asked, moving a hand to push into her lower back and hold her tight against him.
One hand clinging to his, she moved against him like it was second nature, like she knew nothing else. He explored her skin, memorized every inch and figured out exactly how they fit.
Her breath caught as she ground against him and nodded furiously. "Yessss. Yesyesyes. They…deserve it."
"They do, Harley, they do." He took a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back for better access to her neck to sink his teeth into. "Are you going to help me?"
"Yesss, oh fuck, yes." Limbs shuddering, she clung to him and nodded furiously just to let him know she meant it.
"That's my girl. My brilliant, beautiful girl."
His forehead pressed against hers and kissed him soft as a breath. His hand came between them to rub circles against her clit and she could feel herself beginning to break. Almost there, almost…
"I love you, J."
"I know, sugar."
It was barely more than a whisper, but it weighed an ocean.
That was tender, soft, full of sentiment that Harley could not fully comprehend. Her heart was pounding, his words filling her to the brim and she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. It felt as though she was overflowing, like a dam cracking and ready to burst.
Burying any fear or doubt that may have accompanied those words, she threw herself against him and lost every thought in sensation. There was nothing else, only this, only them, only a moment that seemed to last more eternities than Harley knew existed. The weight of the air was pressing down on her suffocating her. Unable to think, unable to breathe, she could only burn.
And burn she did. Collapsed forward and held tight to him as flames consumed them both. He cursed against her skin and buried himself in her as she spit the words right back. It was so much, every twitch and spasm nearly too overwhelming for her to handle. Hardly able to breathe, she rode those flames until her body could not take another second of it. Her entire mind seemed to burn and crackle and drift away like ash.
Face buried in his neck, body still jittery from exertion, she lay perfectly still and listened to the sound of his ragged breathing. Absolute ecstasy gave way to growing dread as she realized what exactly had sent her spiraling over the edge. The fact he had essentially returned her confession of love.
Of course, he had done it in the most noncommittal way possible, pulling the Han Solo response in lieu of actual feeling. But he had still allowed her to say it, and his words were laced with the same sentiment.
Rejection would come soon, and his earlier words would drown like a cinder block as he found some creative way to dismiss them. For one moment he had seemed to have some real semblance of feeling and he wouldn't stand for it, no matter how genuine it may have been. She knew that and it hurt somewhere deep inside.
Minutes began to tick by, slow and cold on her skin despite the oppressive heat of the room. Harley waited and waited for him to say something, to do something, anything other than lay there listening to their frantic heartbeats.
And eventually he did. After some time he pushed her sticky skin away from his and moved both of them to the other end of the bed to collapse onto the pillows.
He pulled her close and spooned against her back, resting his chin on her shoulder. "If I know you – and I do – you're absolutely exhausted and ready to go to sleep."
Quirking an eyebrow, Harley shrugged and allowed herself to process the words before responding. "I'm not sure. You did say if I figured out your whole plan you would let me come as many times as I wanted. Is that offer still on the table?"
"Well, I've got some work to do." He sat up then, unhooked his belt from the headboard and slipped out of bed. "How about you get some rest and I'll go make some phone calls and then maaayyybeee I'll consider it?"
Lying back on the pillows, she stuck her tongue out at him in the most childish way she could manage. "Alright, but I'm going to hold you to it. As soon as you're done working, we're going to get to work breaking my personal record."
He snorted. "Personal record?"
With a matter of fact nod, she grinned up at him. "Four."
Raising his eyebrows as though impressed, he began gathering the rest of his clothes. "Do I get some sort of prize if I help you beat it?"
"I'm sure we can come up with something."
His shoulders shook with a quiet chuckle as he began to dress and pulled the phone from his pocket. She watched him lazily, eyes drifting shut despite her best efforts to stay alert. The whole night had been such a rollercoaster and its entire weight began to settle on her. Though she did not want to sleep, she had been awake for far too long and exhaustion was beginning to sink into her bones.
Come morning there would be time for a nice hot shower, some shared cups of coffee, and holding him to his word. Not necessarily in that order.
And in the meantime she could hear the sound of his voice, a little agitated, but low and even and hypnotizing. She could have listened to him talk forever. Closing her eyes, she let sound wash over her and sleep claimed her like a thief.