CHAPTER 12:

ZEST FOR LIFE

"…Are you fucking serious?"

"Pamela, I am, and could you please hear me out first?"

"I am. I know that, while you're still a Gryffindor at heart, you tend to do shit like this for a reason other than charging in, screaming 'LEEROY JENKINS!'," Pamela said. "And yet, you decided you want to join Harley's crew, after over six months of lying low. I also know that this isn't a pity thing, not in that condescending way. What I want to know is your rationale, why you're risking incarceration in Arkham or Blackgate for her."

Harry nodded, gathering himself together. Harley had left to speak with the Queen of Fables in person. Well, insomuch as an ultra-powerful witch with a capital B trapped in a tax book could be considered 'in person'. He'd been mulling it over all night, and had now come to this conclusion.

"Okay, firstly, I need to be doing something more than just being a house-husband and sounding board to you, Pamela. I'm not saying this because I hate living with you, far from it, and you know it. You are quite literally the best thing to happen to me since I stopped Voldemort, and I will always be grateful."

"Okay, I get that, but I also know that I need to grab a cushion, because I sense a 'but' coming."

"But…you've put a lot of time and effort into saving Harley from herself. So far, you've managed to succeed. But while I'm no psychologist, I know, and so do you, that she is still vulnerable, to the Joker, to whatever flattery the Legion gives her, or the Queen of Fables…we need to guide her until she can truly find her own path."

"…Don't get me wrong, I know you don't mean it that way, but that sounds dangerously like something a controlling person like the Joker would do. And Harley is scarily perceptive of other people's problems at times, and she can leap to conclusions."

"Yes, but she also helped me regain a reason to live. I need to indulge my saving people thing, Pamela. You don't need it. You've got your powers, you're rational despite what others think, and you're smart enough to know when to fight your battles. Harley is still finding her way through that. But she also has a good heart, just like you. She gave me that pep talk last night that I badly needed. And in truth, I'm not helping her just for my sake, or for hers, but for yours. You don't want to see all your hard work go to waste. You went to all that trouble to break into Arkham, get her out of there, and show her what the Joker really thought of her. I wouldn't have bothered. What does that say about me?"

"That you lacked my knowledge of her, Harry," Pamela said gently. "My perspective. Plus, she probably reminded you too much of Bellatrix Lestrange, and I have to wonder how much alike they were. But unlike Bellatrix, Harley kept onto some of her soul, her conscience. And to give Voldemort his due, not that I'd give a wizarding Neo-Nazi any real credit, once he got his body back, he got his lover out, right?"

"It took him several months."

"Because Azkaban makes Arkham look like a cardboard box by comparison. And he'd just gotten his body back, and was consolidating his power. He valued Bellatrix as a lieutenant, and not just as a sex doll. Not because he's better than the Joker, mind you, but because he actually valued those who were loyal to him. Hell, he's probably better than the Queen of Fables in that regard. She basically sent out her army as disposable mooks, and her only remaining minion is a Gingerbread Man that she had prostituting himself for a time."

"…Ugh, really? Actually, how does that even work? Did he even have genitals?"

"He had a mouth. Look, I honestly don't want to think about it either, reading about her antics seriously ruined my childhood, more than it already was. Anyway…are you really sure about this, Harry? Because once you do, there may be no going back. Magical Britain may think you a criminal thanks to Ginnymort's framing, to say nothing of what they put you through beforehand…but do you want to live life as a criminal?"

"…I'm a wanted fugitive, Pamela, and Hermione and Luna have been trying to exonerate me for years, with little success. Those bastards have used me as a scapegoat for the last time. If I'm going to be a criminal, I might as well be doing it for a better purpose than most. Actually, if I do do this, maybe I can be your shared henchman?" He gave her a smile.

At this, Pamela chuckled. "To me, you're an equal, Harry. You will never be my subordinate, always my friend."

Cuddling into each other, they were like this when Harley entered, looking a little frazzled after her talk with the Queen of Fables. "Ugh, I see what you mean, Ivy. If you hadn't told me that stuff…damn, she's having even more of a pity party than Harry. I asked a few quiet questions about her body count here and there, and she got defensive, saying things about having to wipe out bloodlines to prevent vengeful family members from coming after you, that sort of crap. I mean, I can be friends with her, I get where she's coming from, but I sure as hell am not taking after her."

"Hey, it's okay," Pamela said. "Want in on the hug?"

"Yes, please. I do not want to think about the trick-turning Gingerbread Man right now." She sat down, and cuddled up to Pamela, the green-skinned beauty drawing her in. "It's bloody depressing. She was all like, 'I have to use the bathroom. There, I'm done'. I know you sent me to her to warn me of how hard it is, what I'm up against, but…you do believe in me, right?"

"Harley, of course I do. The Queen of Fables got there not just because she rose above her station, but because she's a mass-murdering psycho. Nobody believed in her, she had to create her minions from storybooks. But you have two people in this room who believe in you, who give a damn about you. And I love you, Harley."

"…Thanks, Ive."

The moment was promptly ruined by a sobbing Frank. "Does anyone feel this shit but me?" Frank wailed. "A man can't feel emotion…"

"A man?" Harry, Harley and Pamela chorused.

"Fuck all y'all," Frank retorted, to mutual chuckles from the three humans in the room.

"Okay, so…Harry has discussed something with me. After careful consideration, he wants to be your first member of your crew. Not a henchman, but your assistant on your heists." Harley listened as Harry and Pamela explained his reasoning behind his decision. Pamela then said, "So, what do you think?"

After a moment of staring at him with her pale blue eyes glimmering with tears, Harley leapt at Harry, bearing him to the floor and kissing him passionately as she straddled him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I…ah!" She leapt off him, and looked to Pamela, blushing. "Sorry, I…I didn't mean to…"

"Harley, do you think I'm that worried you'd steal my boyfriend away from me? Honestly, Harry and I knew that, if you were here, you might end up with us anyway."

"…Sorry, what?"

Pamela sighed. "Harry helped me realise it, but I had a crush on you during your time as my therapist. I just never acted on it because I didn't know whether you swung that way at the time, and because I didn't want to fuck up your career. And then, the Joker happened, and, well…" Pamela rubbed the back of her neck.

"Oh. When you said you love me, I thought it was, you know, BFF sort of thing, sisterly bond, fellow supervillains…I…uh, dunno what to say. Can…can we talk about this later, Ive? And I mean that in the best possible way, I do actually swing both ways. Because I am…well, I need to think about this. You know how rebound relationships are."

"Of course, Harley. So, you're fine with having Harry as part of your crew? He was the one who suggested it."

"…I would be honoured. Just keep in mind, I may probably ignore a good chunk of your advice, but I'll trust you to get me out of a tight spot, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, wondering whether he had entered a Faustian pact. "But I'm not exactly a whole crew."

"I know, and if Queen of Fables taught me one thing, it's that, you aside, I shouldn't be looking for someone who believes in me, but rather, people who nobody else believes in, like me."

"…That was what you learned from the chain-smoking taxbook and the cookie prostitute?" Pamela asked.

"Yep, and I know where to start…"

Which was why, some hours later, they were heading back to Noonan's, after watching an episode of the talkshow Tawny!, where Dr Psycho tried and failed to rehabilitate his public image. He'd inadvertently revealed that he had brainwashed his wife Giganta into wedding him, and when she threatened divorce and got up to leave, he called her a cunt. On national TV. The second time it had happened in a week.

Harry looked at Harley as they walked down the street. "So, are we seriously intending to recruit a misogynistic mind-rapist midget who just hit rock-bottom after calling two women cunts on live TV? I can see the logic, he's probably got nowhere to go, but it's a big mistake."

"Harry, you let me handle things, and try not to dropkick him out the window while he's working with us. Assuming he accepts the offer. Oh, that's right, I forgot. Since you're becoming a supervillain yourself, you need a name, a nom de guerre."

"Easy. I thought of it this morning: Basilisk."

"Ooh, nice. Little bit of trivia, 'basilisk' means 'little king' in Greek, from what I've heard."

Harry smiled. "Oh, and do you think Clayface will be good?"

"His shapeshifting skills are brilliant. He just needs a bit of work with his acting skills, not to go too overboard with the backstory, or the ham. You know, you're like the Tom Hagen to my Don Corleone, my consigliere."

"Except you're much sexier than Marlon Brando(1)."

"Eh, he was hotter earlier in his career. Though you're no slouch yourself, Mister." She shot him a wink over her shoulder. "If Ive's offering me a slice of that, then who am I to disagree? If we get that sorted out, you're gonna have some interesting nights in the future."

Harry chuckled, albeit a little uneasily, at the thought. Not that he didn't want a threesome, but he just wondered if he'd regret such a thing with Harley Quinn involved. "Well, I think we're in for interesting times, probably in the cursed sense of the term."

"Hey, hey, hey, none of that. Leaving aside the fact that I'm gonna be awesome, I know for a fact that if I let anything happen to you, Ivy will have my hide. So I won't…"

Meeting Dr Psycho in person was pretty much how he expected it to be. The misogynistic dwarf had refused Harley's offer, until a press conference from Lex Luthor came on the TV. Due to his use of the C-word, Dr Psycho was expelled from the Legion of Doom and its affiliates, leading him to take up Harley's offer, with him denying rather suspiciously that it was to rehabilitate his reputation.

Clayface, meanwhile, hopped onto Harley's bandwagon rather quickly. Despite his goofiness, or perhaps because of it, he was considerably more endearing to Harry than Dr Psycho. Basil Karlo, as his real name was, was also a British expat, albeit of Eastern European lineage. And they seemed on-board with engaging in a petty, personal vendetta. Namely, sticking it sideways to Maxie Zeus.

As they passed statues of Maxie, more than a few with his poxy penis exposed, heading towards his manse, Harry asked, "So, what's the plan?"

"Okay, the pair of us, along with Psycho, will be sneaking around the back. Clayface, we need you to be the distraction, imitate a postman or something."

"And what do we know about this postman?" Clayface asked, with too much seriousness. "What are his motivations?"

"…What postman will be delivering mail at this time of night?" Harry muttered. "It's 9 PM."

"Well, if you have a better idea, Harry, you suggest it!" Harley snapped irritably.

"…Art critic," Harry said, the first thing that came to mind. "Art critic and dealer who's come to evaluate and potentially buy his godawful tasteless statues."

"Oh! Perhaps that has even more potential!" Clayface declared. "I can see it now, a man who exiled himself from the mainstream of the art world, for not being daring enough! He seeks the more esoteric and fringe works the world has to offer, and therefore…!"

"Yeah, you know what?" Harley cut him off. "I stand corrected. Nice thinking, Harry."

"…I genuinely thought of the first thing that came to mind," Harry said. "I am so surprised I thought of something that good."

"See? Acting on your first impulse isn't so bad. In fact, it's a lifestyle choice. C'mon."

The trio hurried over to the rear of the manse, with Harley stopping by a ventilation shaft. "Okay, Harry, do your Basilisk thing."

Harry did so, transforming into a Basilisk, squirming through the shafts (and avoiding more than one dead animal in the process), before letting Harley and Psycho in. He grimaced at the décor as they entered the bedroom, lined with statues of the lower half of Maxie's body, complete with gruesome genitalia. "Ugh, really?" Harry muttered.

"Yeah, I don't wanna look at his wang any longer than I have to, so where does he keep those medals?" Psycho asked.

"He said he literally sleeps on a pile of gold, right?" Harley asked, before hauling the mattress off the bed, revealing a small safe.

Harry smirked, casting an unlocking charm and opening it, revealing the medals. The three thieves exchanged a smirk, before sneaking out, intending to pick up Clayface and beat the crap out of Maxie as they left. As they snuck into the foyer, they heard Clayface, in his chosen persona, say, "…Depiction of potent and priapic phalluses, as you well know, have a long tradition even before Greco-Roman times…"

"He's really getting into it, isn't he?" Harry asked.

"I'm honestly surprised he hasn't blown his cover by now," Psycho said.

"Oh, don't worry," Harley said. "We snuck in. It doesn't mean we're sneaking out. I want him to know who did this…and I want him to tell the world we're not to be fucked with. Psycho, Basilisk…heavy artillery support. Me, I'm getting intimately acquainted with him, just not in the way he preferred."

"Well, lead the way, Harley," Harry said with a smirk.

With that, Harley vaulted over the railing of the stairs, and landed near Maxie Zeus. "Sup, you oily bitch?"

"…Wait, what?" Recognition entered the delusional criminal's eyes. "Well, if it isn't the girl I chose not to have sex with."

"And you said no woman could get a crew," Harley said, as Clayface changed back to normal, or what passed for normal when you looked like a pile of mud with eyes and crooked teeth, while Harry and Psycho strutted down the stairs. "Look at these guys!"

"You call that a crew? A midget, a mudslide, and Poison Ivy's manwhore?"

Harry stilled, before he began walking down the stairs with a heavier tread. "…If you're going for alliteration, try magician," Harry hissed, allowing a slight hissing overlay of Parselmouth to overlap his words, before partially transforming his teeth into the fangs of a Basilisk, and favouring him with a leer. His contacts had been removed for the mission, and he favoured Maxie with a glare to go with the fanged rictus. "And for my next trick…I'm gonna make a prick disappear."

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT KIND OF MESSED-UP BODY-MODIFICATION SURGERY DID YOU FUCKING DO TO DO THAT?!" Maxie screamed comically. Like a little girl, actually.

"That's not important," Harley said. "You've got one chance to say that Harley Quinn and her crew are nothing to fuck with. I really want you to blow it, but honestly, I'd take the chance."

Showing bravado if nothing else, Maxie crossed his arms defiantly. "…You don't scare me. You're bluffing."

Harley rolled her eyes, before snapping her fingers. Dr Psycho promptly levitated a bunch of busts of Maxie and flung them at the supposed god. He was pinned between two busts, and Psycho began hammering him with a third. Harry held up a finger. "Excuse me, it's my turn. He called me Ivy's manwhore. That was very rude. I intend to teach him some manners." He cast a wordless summoning spell on the nearest statue showing Maxie's genitals. Specifically on said genitals, which flew through the air, only to be caught like a very phallic Golden Snitch. "Ew, I'm touching your dick. Open wide, you delusional sisterfucker."

"I never fucked my sister!"

Harry looked at him flatly. "You claim to be Zeus. Zeus was an incestuous rapist who also loved bestiality, even if he was the one transforming into animals to fuck women with. Well, are you ready to deepthroat your own cock?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Maxie said, waving his hands. "I'll tell them your crew ain't anything to be fucked with!"

"I know you won't," Harley said, before she nodded to Harry. He flung the marble penis into Maxie's mouth, before following it up with a Body-Bind. Maxie collapsed to the floor like a tree, his own marble dick still in his mouth. "I know I have the wrong sports equipment for this…but FORRRE!"

With that, Harley batted him between the legs so hard, he was flung through a pair of doors and into another room. Silently, Harley and Harry high-fived each other, though Harley looked at the bat. "Ugh, I'm going to have to disinfect it…"

Harry chuckled, even as he looked back to where Maxie Zeus lay, supine, fellating his own cock in marble form. Harry had taken his first steps on a road to Hell. Maybe it wasn't good intentions, helping Harley, and yet…he felt no worry anymore. Just relief. Relief that, finally, he was doing something he was enjoying, and of his own free will, for the first time in a very long time…

CHAPTER 12 ANNOTATIONS:

So, there you have it. Ivy's made things very clear to an interested but cautious Harley, and Harry's begun his criminal career.

I was tempted to copy what Dragnboi65 did with Maxie in Harley Quinn's Red Mark, but I decided not to copy Maxie's punishment (which is basically getting a hot sauce-covered marble cock up where only proctologists dare to tread). I did something similar in the end, just a different orifice, with some magic instead of hot sauce.

Much of Harry's personality seems more profane and scary here, while confronting Maxie Zeus, but keep in mind, he's putting on a persona here. I basically thought of his 'Basilisk' voice as being a bit like a more snake-like version of Raiden in his Jack the Ripper persona in Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. I didn't write out any elongated 's' sounds, though, so add them in your head.

Review-answering time! Tenzo51: Not quite that, but more of a somewhat darker vigilante crew in some regards. We're talking lovable rogues, like a smaller scale version of the Firefly crew, or a lighter version of the Liberator crew from Blake's 7. Which makes Poison Ivy a genderflipped, nicer version of Kerr Avon. Which is fucking scary. While still serious criminals, they have lines they wouldn't cross. And they'd be less immoral than they are on the show, to some degree.

edboy4926: The Joker would love causing widespread devastation, but he wants to see people suffer and die, not get wiped out in an instant. I get the feeling that, if he saw what happened, he'd thing, "Oh…not bad, but…not as funny as I would hope". Harley would be horrified, and the HQ-verse Superman would probably blow chunks at how low his Injustice counterpart would sink.

LoamyCoffee: Exactly. Let's just say Dr Psycho has to make a choice soon…

God of crossovers: Well, while in the show, it seems like the Penguin is railroading Joshua into a life of crime, Joshua seems to like it. Hell, he's even allowed in the Legion of Doom HQ, though given the events of one episode, he's not allowed to use the credit cards anymore, due to paying for a hit on Harley (for ruining his bar mitzvah and humiliating him in the canon episode, something that won't happen here due to Harley knowing what's happening in advance), as well as vape pens, candies, and, in Bane's words, "something suspiciously labelled 'Dolphin Encounter'." XD

1. Harry and Harley are, of course, referring to the characters from The Godfather.