CHAPTER 11:

SO, YOU NEED A CREW?

"…What kind of name is KGBeast?" Harry asked. "I mean, it's been, what, over twenty years since the fall of the Soviet Union?"

"Look, he was being trained by the KGB until the USSR went down the crapper," Pamela said as Harry brewed their respective favourite caffeinated drinks. The two liked to alternate who was on 'brewing duty'. "He's getting on, but he's one of the most feared mercenaries in the world, even at his age. Harley should be capable of kicking his ass."

"Yeah, but isn't she targeting a nuclear warhead he's escorting?"

"Harley's very much an agent of chaos, but she wouldn't use it to commit mass-murder. Blackmail would be more of her thing," Pamela said. "Hell, even the Joker would want enough people around to laugh at his jokes or cower in fear. He's a crazy, mass-murdering psychopath, but even he would want an audience that isn't dying of radiation poisoning. Besides, the warhead is one that went missing from an arsenal. The authorities would actually be glad to know where it is. MUF is apparently a big problem."

"MUF?"

"Material Unaccounted For. In other words, missing nukes or stuff kept off the books. Ah, thanks." Pamela smiled as she got her mug, which had emblazoned on its side: Go Green. Bodies Make Excellent Fertiliser. Harry's mug, now filled with tea, had I'm Sorry, Did I Roll My Eyes Out Loud? on it(1).

Just as they made to drink their respective beverages, the door slammed open, revealing Harley, who looked like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards. Her body was covered in filth, her hair was out of its pigtails and pulled outwards in a tangled mess, with twigs stuck in it. She glared at them, before muttering, "I need a fucking crew."

"First, you need a shower, Harley. Go take one, we'll be waiting," Pamela said, before sipping her coffee.

A few minutes later, with the news on, Harry and Pamela were sitting on the lounge, before Harley, freshly showered, wearing a towel on her head and a dressing gown, came in. Pamela remarked, "I'm guessing you didn't get the warhead."

"No, Joker stole it because he had a fucking crew! Like all real supervillains."

Harry frowned. "Didn't you basically kick the arse of all those goons of his when you broke off with him? Even though you were horribly outnumbered? How did he beat you, then?"

"Look, Merlin, he surprised me, and I didn't have that much space to do my acrobatics thing, not in a train carriage," Harley retorted. "Plus, the inverse ninja law works best when you are horribly outnumbered, not when it's maybe four or five to one."

"It works for the Batman," Pamela snarked. "Besides, I get by on my own pretty well. Harry only acts as my sounding board, and Oracle acts as support for planning. But there's no reason you can't."

As her plants poured her a refill of her coffee and gently massaged her shoulders, Frank said, with a smirk, "Your independence is inspiring."

"Can it, Frank," Pamela said.

"I love you, Ivy!"

"Ive, I could've used your help there. Same with Harry," Harley said.

"Okay, so, with Harry, I'd rather not he be dragged into our lifestyle, at least in earnest," Pamela said. "Honestly, it was a big step to involve him in being a sounding board for my plans, let alone being seen out in public with him. He may be a wanted fugitive, but he was framed. He doesn't need to go to Blackgate or Arkham because he's my friend."

"I'm honestly at the point where I wouldn't mind helping you more in earnest, Pamela," Harry said, shooting him a smile which she returned. Which was true. Living with her for the past six months had certainly brought him, if not fully in line with her morality, then at least more sympathetic to it. He'd kill for her…as long as the victim deserved death anyway, and for more than just threatening his lover.

"I know, Harry. We'll discuss that later. But Harley, you shouldn't be ashamed of yourself for going solo. Crews are overrated, and some of the best supervillains work alone." She indicated the TV screen. "Look at this! Dr Psycho, taking on Wonder Woman solo. Perfect example. Misogynistic little goblin he may be, but he's doing it alone like a champ."

Harry had to admit, the fight was interesting. On one side, you had Wonder Woman, the famous Amazon warrior, a dark-haired beauty wielding a shield, her famous bracers gleaming in the sunlight, her golden lasso on her belt. Her outfit was skimpy, but surprisingly practical, allowing her freedom of movement as she caught the cars thrown by her opponent's psychic powers, and redirected them away from the crowd.

On the other was Dr Psycho, a dwarf in evening suit, his disproportionately large head bearing saturnine features locked in concentration as he threw cars at Wonder Woman with his powers. He was impressive in his own way, having the air of someone powerful in a compact package. Harry didn't like him, from what Pamela told him, but you couldn't deny his power.

Soon, Wonder Woman charged at him, sneering, "Too afraid to fight me with your bare hands, Psycho?"

Psycho sneered back, and hands made of psychic energy lashed out and grabbed her by the throat. "What a grand idea," he leered. As the Amazon choked in his grasp, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, he giggled, and asked, "I'm sorry, what was that? Speak up a little, I'm sure you don't want your last words to be 'GHHRKLE-RRRGGG-derp'."

As he cackled again, Wonder Woman, whether incensed by his mockery or simply gathering up the willpower to strike back, roared a hoarse battlecry, and slammed her bracers together where his psychic hands were choking her. The energy slammed back at Psycho, sending the diminutive villain flying into a lightpole, denting it, while a freed Wonder Woman rubbed her abused throat, coughing, and readying herself for combat again.

What she, and the spectators looking on, didn't expect was for him to glare at her as he sat up, rubbing his head, and furiously scream, on national TV, "THAT REALLY HURT, YOU CUNT!"

The stunned looks on Harry, Pamela and Harley's faces were mirrored by the spectators on-screen. Even Wonder Woman was gobsmacked. "…Did he really just…?" Harry began after a very long period of silence.

"Yep. He's going the way of Black Mask now," Pamela said, as Psycho's anger melted away, and he looked around sheepishly as he realised what he had just done on live TV. "Holy shit, that was…"

"See what I mean?" Harley said. "If he had a crew, he would have called her a bitch instead, and if I had a crew, I'd not only have the warhead by now, but I'd have used it to blackmail the city into naming a highway after me."

"…A highway? Okay, so, that took a weird turn."

As Pamela sipped from her mug, Harry frowned. "So…how do you go about getting a crew?"

"Well, there's two popular ways in this city. Underworld Talent Inc is the best place to get underlings through official channels," Pamela said, holding up a finger. Holding up another, she continued, "For more unofficial channels, a lot of tough guys and the like infest Noonan's Bar."

Harry nodded absently, before he came to a realisation, and snorted. "…UTI…Underworld Talent Inc? More like urinary tract infection!"

Pamela rolled her eyes as he laughed. "Get it out of your system."

"He's not wrong, you know," Harley said, cackling as well. "Oh God, I actually forgot that. Seriously, what's wrong with the people who name these things?"

By the time she came back that evening, she wasn't laughing. Instead, she was scowling heavily, and had gone off on a diatribe about how UTI had knocked her back because she had left the Joker, and offered her their services only if she hooked up with him again. And at Noonan's, no henchman was willing to work with her, being more willing to leap to certain doom for one of Felix Faust's schemes, or go with Kite Man, who was apparently going for a heist.

She then ranted about Dr Psycho, and the rather hammy acting of Basil Karlo, aka Clayface, who was masquerading as a 'Hot Southern Bartender', in her words…at least until he transformed, and Dr Psycho called him a literal piece of shit. Whereupon Clayface transformed into what he believed was a literal piece of shit, namely a doppelganger of Psycho himself. They promptly brawled.

"There must be something I'm missing. How the hell do I get people to work for me?!" Harley lamented.

"Can I offer my tuppence worth?" Harry asked.

Pamela rolled her eyes. "Do they even have twopenny coins anymore in the UK?"

"Well, let's hear it. I mean, you're not one of us per se, but an outside view is good, right?" Harley asked.

"Okay, but just so you know, what I say might hurt." Harry held up a finger. "Firstly, what are you best known for? Being the Joker's sidekick and lover. That is going to cling to you like Stinksap for a long time. Secondly, how many times have you led people solo? To my knowledge, none. You're inexperienced as a leader, Harley. I'm playing Devil's Advocate here, it sounds more like those idiots knocked you back because you're a woman more than you being an unproven quantity, but…"

Harley waved her hands. "…Right, right…you've raised some good points. But maybe there's somewhere where I can get the inside scoop on improving myself."

"I doubt that any self-respecting supervillain will give away their secrets, Harley," Pamela groaned.

"…Maybe not give away…"

Which was why Harry and Pamela were dragged by Harley to a seminar that night held by veteran supervillain and large ham Maxie Zeus. The man claimed to be nothing less than Zeus reborn in physical form. Harry reckoned he looked like an oiled-up musclehead in a too-skimpy toga who loved the sound of his voice too much. "I AM MAXIE ZEUS!" he opened up his presentation, "AND I WILL MAX YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE!"

There were cheers from the audience, and Harley was squeeing in delight and anticipation, but Pamela snarked, "This guy's such a douche."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harley snarked back quietly, "but none of the charming villains with great personalities were holding seminars at the moment."

"I should've brought a vomit bag," Harry muttered. "This guy makes Gilderoy Lockhart seem tolerable, and I've only just seen him now. And he seems to think a toga is the same as a kilt. He's one wrong move away from an indecent exposure charge, I'm sure."

Maxie continued with his spiel, his voice unexpectedly cracking briefly like a boy going through puberty. "JOKER! RIDDLER! TWO-FACE! WHAT DO THEY HAVE THAT YOU DON'T?!"

"A penis?" Pamela heckled.

"An ego the size of Uranus?" Harry added.

"A CREW!" Maxie said. He then went on to brag about his robbery of the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, saying he would never have done it without his crew, and now, he literally slept on a pile of gold. Something which had Harley excited.

"Harley, calm down," Pamela said quietly. "This guy probably snorts so much cocaine, he's not sleeping on anything."

"He thinks he's Zeus reborn," Harry snarked. "Wouldn't that mean he's high on something other than cocaine? Like LSD or something?"

"He's rich. What was it Robin Williams once said?" Pamela asked. "Cocaine is God's way of saying you're making too much money. God, I miss him."

"Yeah," Harley said, in agreement. It said a lot when even the Joker mourned the passing of the famous comedian, and unironically. But as Maxie was listing off ways to recruit goons for a crew, methods she already tried, she began waving her arms. "Oh, hey! Hey!"

"Yes, you, the Juggalo in the third row!" Maxie called out.

As Harry exchanged a look with Pamela for calling Harley a Juggalo (she may have been a violent clown, but she wasn't a fan of Insane Clown Posse, and made a habit of breaking the legs of any who approached her), Harley said, "Mr Zeus, I actually tried all those things, and they didn't work!"

"YOU CAN'T LET REJECTION STOP YOU!" Maxie began bellowing anew.

Harry tuned out the rest of his spiel, but once he was done, Pamela stood. "Okay, fuck this, I'm out. Harley?"

"I'll stay behind, see if he has anything further to say," she said.

"Your funeral…"

Harley didn't come back until Harry and Pamela were fast asleep. However, as they made breakfast the first morning, she launched into a rant about how Maxie Zeus made clumsy attempts to seduce her, all while showing off that he actually did go commando under his toga. And when she knocked back his attempts to seduce her, he claimed that she would never get a crew, not after being laughed out of UTI and not being part of the Joker's crew.

"…And so I said to him: Maybe if no bad guy will join me, then maybe I don't need a bad guy. Oh, and here's more advice. You know how I called you a 'creepy dick'? That wasn't just an insult, but a concern. You should seriously see a urologist before it falls off and crawls away on a trail of pus."

"Okay, firstly, ew, that's exactly the mental image I needed while having breakfast," Harry said. "And secondly, is that at all surprising? How many STDs would that guy have?"

"He probably collects VDs like I collect plants," Pamela said. "And Harley, I know you implied to Maxie Zeus that you wanted me to join you, but I'm not. I work alone, plants notwithstanding…and Harry acting as my sounding-board. Besides…it's not like my plant-manipulation schtick goes well with your gymnastics."

"Ive, between you, me, and Harry's magic, what can't we do?"

"Okay, again, Harry's off the table. And…well, it's not just that. Believe it or not, there is a glass ceiling for supervillains. I warned you about that after we gatecrashed that bar mitzvah. Cheetah is the most senior female member of the Legion, but she's almost always in the background. Female supervillains are tolerated, but if we get too powerful…we get cut down pretty quickly. And before you say that's bullshit, let me tell you about the Queen of Fables."

Pamela recited the tale to Harley, who frowned. Harry held up a finger. "You forgot to add that she was also a sadistic mass-murderer who made the Joker look tame by comparison. She wanted to surpass Voldemort in all things, including body count. Imprisoning her in a copy of the US Tax Code was better than she deserved. Hell, sending her to Azkaban would have been more than she deserved. That wasn't because she was a woman, it was because she was an unrepentant monster."

Pamela nodded. "That's a good point, Harry, but there's no getting away from the fact that, before she went postal, she was considered little more than a footnote in the Legion of Doom. There's definitely a glass ceiling there."

"Then you break it," Harry said. On their looks, he shrugged. "I know, it sounds easier than it is, and I know you prefer your causes to being wildly successful, Pamela. But you two are veritable forces of nature. Okay, Pamela is more literally a force of nature, but I saw how you kicked the arses of the Joker and his goons when you dumped him, Harley. Both of you have so much potential." He sagged. "…Unlike me. I just…I've lost whatever potential I have."

"Now that isn't true!" Harley snapped suddenly, jabbing a finger at his face, to him and Pamela's astonishment. "Fuck you, and fuck your pity party! You told me about your life, about what you did as the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter! I envy you, I envy you for having a life filled with adventure. Sure, it was dangerous, and you went through a lot of bad shit, but you're a fucking wizard! You can get reality to bend over and become your bitch! You endured shit that I'm not sure I could have! I mean, Dementors, for example, soul-eating demons that are basically the living embodiment of chronic depression! A Basilisk, a snake that can kill just by making eye contact with you, and you killed it when you weren't even thirteen! You faced down a warlock several decades your senior, and you survived! You only got royally buttfucked because Ginnymort tricked you!"

"But…"

"Let me goddamn finish." She closed her eyes, and to Harry's astonishment, a tear trickled down. "When I was breaking off from the Joker…you told me that you bet against me, not believing that I would do it. And yet, when I won, you said you were glad you lost that bet. That touched me, because despite not having any faith in me, you actually cared enough to be glad that you lost. And when I learned about your past, I know why. I know you know this already, but you have very little self-worth and self-esteem, Harry, especially for a hero. You're basically a traumatised child soldier. I don't envy that about you. But…I envy you for being a better friend to Pamela than I have been. I envy you being a better person than me. I really do. She needs friends. You need friends. You say you don't have any potential. I reckon you have more than I ever had or will, to be whatever the actual fuck you want to be. And whatever happens, you're a damn good man, one of the very few in the world."

Harry, after a moment, gathered the barmy blonde into a hug, Pamela joining in. Her words touched him with their spontaneous sincerity. And now, he truly understood why Pamela went out on a limb for this woman. Because despite everything, despite what she became, what she went through, Harley Quinn had a good heart.

And that's when a notion was born in him. One that would take him alongside Harley's path. Because he still had his saving people thing, and even if Harley was going to become a fully-fledged supervillain in her own right, he would stop her from becoming a monster, from losing everything that Pamela loved about her. That would be something he could do…

CHAPTER 11 ANNOTATIONS:

So, there you have it. A modified version of events from So You Need a Crew, but with a little more openness between the main characters. And Harley has just awakened Harry's reason for being again.

Harry's arguments about why Harley was knocked back for a crew at UTI were similar to those Naruto uses in Dragnboi65's Harley Quinn's Red Mark, which has shaped more than a few elements of this fic.

Review-answering time! Dragon Man 180: Well, I reckon you should watch the series if you can. It's a great series. And the previous chapter was something of a heavy AU for that episode: Harley barged into the bar mitzvah, not knowing what it was until it was too late, and she attempted an actual heist in order to impress the Legion of Doom members present, only to rouse the ire of Penguin and his nephew. Here, because she knew about both the bar mitzvah and Penguin arranging the fake heist for his nephew, opted to encourage Joshua instead. Given that she grew up in a Jewish household, admittedly an extremely lapsed one, she probably understood it was better to encourage him. In addition, as Kite Man was dating Luna instead of Ivy, there was no stuff-up with him either coming onto her rather clumsily, or spiking the punch with her pheromones, not knowing it would eventually kill them.

saiyanhund: In this story, both Harry and Pamela were born in 1990, and Delphi was born in February 2008. And while that is an intriguing argument, I'm not going to go with it.

Tenzo51: Well, that's a tricky question, depending on your definition of villain. While one of Harley's crew in the series will leave after a brief period, another character will become, if not quite a member of Harley's crew, then an associate.

LoamyCoffee: Bane called the Joker in the show, and I decided to have it as such here as well, as Bane wasn't being malicious, just thoughtless in letting the Joker know what his ex is up to. And I had this talk ahead of time because Ivy and Harley got into conflict over the Legion of Doom issue later in the show, and while it's still very much a bone of contention between them by that point, they at least talk things out, so Harley and Ivy's relationship is healthier and stronger.

Skull Flame: David Bennett was presumably drugging up the animals he was banging. Those were my thoughts, anyway. He wasn't into bestiality in the comic I took him from, just an amoral scumbag at best whom Ivy had a grudge against.

As for Ginnymort, I've actually used her for at least one other story, but I never got around to the big reveal. I'm not spoiling what that story is, though. I've seen it done in other fanfics too, so I can't claim to have originated the idea.

This idea is far from unique too. This fic was, as mentioned above, heavily influenced by DragnBoi65's Naruto crossover Harley Quinn's Red Mark. However, in that story, Naruto is relatively peripheral to it, and is mostly a deus ex machina, and I also felt that Harley and Ivy were too…submissive to him, which does sort of defeat the point of the series, which is about female empowerment, or empowerment in general, really. While Harry's not exactly submissive to Harley or Ivy, he is closer to an equal in many regards, though Harley is perhaps the submissive in the relationship, or at least in the bedroom, so to speak (and submissive is perhaps the wrong word: she's more of the newcomer to the threeway relationship, and she's finding where she belongs, and Harry and Ivy are trying to guide her along a path that will see her get what she wants without forfeiting what makes her what she is). It's somewhat more nuanced than Harley Quinn's Red Mark, which, I should emphasize, is still an excellent fic.

1. I have a mug with this on the side.