CHAPTER 13:

FINDING MR RIGHT

"I still can't believe Harley got the city to name a highway after her. And it's been nearly two weeks since she did it."

"I know, right? I'm glad the bomb's now with the government."

"Why? They're just bigger criminals who'd use it as blackmail material if they needed to. That's the point of mutually assured destruction."

"Do you want something like that in the hands of someone worse than Harley?"

"Fair point, though some politicians make the Joker look well-balanced by comparison."

Harry and Pamela were cleaning the latter's apartment. Harley was going for a bank robbery job, but had thankfully allowed Harry to sit this one out after dealing with Maxie Zeus some time ago. In truth, a lot of what Harry could do with his magic and Dr Psycho could do with his telekinesis were fairly identical, even if Harry was a bit more versatile. Besides, Harley actually had considerable experience with bank heists while working for the Joker.

Harley has also been making her first tentative steps into a relationship with both Harry and Pamela, though all three were wary of the rebound relationship effect. It helped that Pamela and Harley already had an established relationship, even if they didn't consciously realise how truly attracted they were to each other until recently. But they didn't intend to rush it.

"Okay, done," Harry said, before looking to Pamela, who finished polishing her Noguchi coffee table, which had a glass top over foliage. As her plants continued the rest of the work, he approached her, and took her in his arms, the pair waltzing as much as they could in the confines of the apartment. He'd come a long way from the gawky boy with two left feet at the Yule Ball over a decade before, and while he was no dancing expert, he could at least waltz with Pamela without stepping on her toes.

"Hey, you know Harley and the others will be back soon? I mean, assuming they got away from the cops?" Pamela asked, even as she smiled.

"So? I'm dancing with a beautiful goddess. Maxie Zeus called me your manwhore, like it was a bad thing. He thought himself a god, but honestly, I'd rather worship you. No pheromones needed."

"You know, that's so cheesy, and yet so sweet," Pamela said, chuckling.

"I know. So let's just enjoy the peace while it lasts, because our favourite emissary of chaos will be back soon, with the misogynistic midget, and the clay ham."

"…I hope Harley joins us in earnest soon. I…I will admit, I am still afraid of letting her in. She's a good person, but she has a bad habit of being flaky. I'm worried that she'll abandon me or do something stupid that…"

"Then we'll call her out on it. She doesn't always listen to us, to both of us, but she does at times. We just have to make things very clear to her. Besides, she's still on the rebound, at least she understands that. We've just got to make sure that the Joker doesn't sink his claws into her again. Though Psycho worries me."

Pamela nodded, even as they slowed and halted their dancing. "You and me both. But he seems to listen to Harley at least."

"Maybe, but I feel ill at ease being around a mind-rapist, especially after what Snape did to me. And I can't blame Giganta for telling him to fuck off."

"Unfortunately, he's useful, he has enough sense to rein in his attitude more often than not, and he only uses his powers when he needs to," Pamela said. "But if he ever fucks with my head, or your head, then all bets are off. He'll learn what being hung, drawn and quartered will mean if I catch him. You?"

"Cruciatus. Normally, I wouldn't consider such a thing, but he's one of the exceptions."

"Ooh, I love it when you're being bad for a good cause." And with that, the two kissed, long and hard.

Unfortunately, they were interrupted too soon by the sound of the door slamming open, and Harley, Clayface and Psycho barging in. "Who's got hands covered in unwashable ink? This girl! We just made that bank our bitch!" Harley slammed a duffel bag filled with notes onto the coffee table, which broke.

Harry hauled the bag off the coffee table, and repaired it, while Pamela snapped, "Harley, just because Harry can repair this shit doesn't give you a licence to break it! That was a Noguchi, for fuck's sake!"

"Hey, you can buy more!" Harley said, before taking a pile of banknotes in her hand and 'dealing' them to Pamela, as if they were cards in a game of 52 Pickup. "Guch, guch, guch…it's Noguchi!"

"In future, could you hand me the money instead of making it rain?" Pamela groaned as Harley chucked the notes into the air with an elated whoop. "I know it's every person's dream to have money rain on them, until they have to pick it up and count it…fuck it, I'm making some nettle tea. Harry, you want some black tea?"

"Thanks, Pamela." He turned to Harley, using a spell to cleanse the supposedly unwashable ink off her and the banknotes.

"Best. Heist. EVER," Harley said, looking like an overexcited kid with too much red cordial in her system. "You should've been there, Harry. We hit the perfect tone. The people there were scared shitless, but not so much that they didn't appreciate it when I cartwheeled out of the bank."

"Anyone can appreciate your figure, Harley," Harry said, albeit with a warm smile.

The others hurriedly turned on the news, only to become increasingly disappointed that the news covered the Joker robbing a credit union. And when the most 'compelling' story turned out to involve baby ferrets being returned to their owners, Harley lost it, throwing the remote at the screen with a scream, with Harry barely catching it with his Seeker's reflexes. "Harley, for fuck's sake, stop trying to break the TV! It's been two weeks since you're with us, and you've destroyed the TV eight times already!" Pamela snapped.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harley said, clearly trying to calm herself with an effort. "I'm just…I'm just pissed. We've been doing jobs for the past little while, and the one time we got on the news was after the Maxie Zeus caper! What the actual fuck are we doing wrong?!"

"Harley, you're committing felonies. Do you really want people to know who you are?" Pamela asked.

"Or…well, there's one thing stopping us from being in the headlines: nobody's stopping us!"

"Of course!" Clayface said, before holding up his hands, shaping them into mini-sculptures of the Joker and Batman. "Joker has the Batman, and what is merely a mundane malfeasance becomes a veritable clash between titans!"

"In other words, we need a nemesis," Harley declared, as Pamela facepalmed. "Lex Luthor has Superman, Sinestro has Green Lantern, Dr Psycho has his inability to refrain from using the C-Word…"

Psycho scowled. "My nemesis is Wonder Woman, that cu…okay, I see what you did there," he conceded.

"Maybe you should give yourself a lobotomy, stop yourself from saying that, or anything else, again," Harry said.

"Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on," Dr Psycho retorted.

"I don't swing that way," Harry snarked back.

"No, you fuck Ivy, don't think I don't know!" Psycho snapped.

"…Your point? At least I don't rape women's minds, or their bodies, and if you ever try to do it to me, or anyone I give a shit about…you will die. Over a protracted period."

Harley waved her hands as Psycho growled. "Guys, guys, guys…stop arguing. I'll just get set us up with a nemesis, okay? It's gonna be great…"

For the first time since she came to stay with them, Harley asked to join them in bed. Not for any actual carnal activity, but as a way of seeing how comfortable she was with joining them. She sat on the side of the bed in her pyjamas, typing into a laptop after dinner that night. Harry and Pamela were peering over her shoulder, though both were a little distracted by the sight of her pyjama-clad, well-toned arse. "Is it me, or is this website more like a dating website?" Harry asked, looking at the layout of Find-a-Nemesis.

"You'd be surprised at how much the concept of 'nemesis' and 'lover' overlaps," Pamela snarked. "Remember how the Joker spoke of Batman when we had the Riddler staging that debacle?"

"Ugh, okay, I get it now," Harry said. "Hey, Harley, you almost done?"

"Yep. Just putting the finishing touches on it…now." She finished up with the laptop, before closing it up, putting it onto the bedside table, and then sliding into bed. "Scooch up a little, will ya?"

The three of them lay in bed, Pamela sandwiched between Harley and Harry, the former holding onto Pamela like a teddy bear. Harley closed her eyes, and sighed gently. "Ive…Pamela…how long has it been since we slept together like this?"

"Too long," Pamela said quietly. "Of course, back then, it was more like a sleepover. The Joker had tossed you out, I took you in for a few days until he sweet-talked his way back into your good graces…honestly? This is a new record for you, Harley. And that's a good thing."

"…Do you ever want to be called Harleen ever again?" Harry asked.

Harley shook her head. "As much as I cringe a little at the fact that the Joker turned my birthname into a bad pun, I still love that name. Harleen Quinzel was the girl whose father was scum, who had a not-so-innocent crush on Frankie Muniz that went to some disturbing places, and whose shop teacher at high school kept staring at my ass. True, being the sidekick to the Joker was a bit of a false start…but this is me, the new me. I'm not saying Harleen Quinzel is dead as much as she has been reborn as me. You know, like with Regeneration in Doctor Who? I'm still the same person, just a different aspect." She snuggled closer to Pamela, breathing in the scent of her hair.

Pamela sighed. "I guess a kind of rebirth is necessary in cases like this. Look at what happened with me and Woodrue. I was already a freak when I fell into his clutches. He was just the last straw that killed off the naïve little girl that was Pamela Isley, and made Poison Ivy. Don't get me wrong, I like being called Pamela, I just…we're not the same people we were while we were young."

"Ivy, if you saw just half of my childhood memories, you'd wonder how I'm not worse than the Joker," Harley said, tapping the side of her head. "Being pushed into that vat of chemicals just liberated me, even if it took until your wake-up call to me for me to finish that process. Whereas you…I'm sure Harry was right then, that you were a cute kid, even with green skin. And he's right now: you're a goddess."

"I wish I was," Pamela said. "And not an angry goddess, or some sex-crazed idiot like Maxie Zeus and his namesake. I wish I could just wave a hand, and all would be right with the world. No pollution, no crime. I wish the three of us could be happy, and live a happy life for the rest of our lives, just by thinking it. But we don't live in such a world. Reality is cold and harsh. You have to fight for every scrap of happiness you can get. And if you don't fight, you wither and die from the fucking harshness of the world, like a flower in coldest winter. We nearly did, the three of us. But we survived, and we will thrive, because we are fighting."

Harry, after a moment, leaned forward and kissed her. "…You should start doing seminars as a public speaker, Pamela." And then, Harley leaned around Pamela's shoulder, and gave her a kiss, to the green-skinned woman's surprise. A quick peck, true, but on the lips.

"What he said, Ivy," Harley said.

"I'm not sure I can be a good public speaker," Pamela said. "And even then…well, I haven't exactly done my cause many favours."

Harley hummed a sad hum of acknowledgement, before she looked over at Harry. "Hey, Harry…something's just occurred to me. You know how Ginnymort was knocked up by you? Don't you want to ever rescue your kid?"

"Kids," Harry said. He was avoiding this issue for a number of reasons. "Apparently she had twins, a boy and a girl. But there's a few reasons for that."

"Okay, shoot."

"…Firstly, they've been raised by Ginnymort for the past five, six years, right? They may be young, but that's still enough time for her to poison their minds against me. Secondly, Ginnymort's been living in hiding, well enough for Hermione and Luna not to be able to find her. All they know is that she's associated with the Legion of Doom, and that she might be in Gotham. She probably has her residence under the Fidelius. And thirdly…I know I shouldn't give her any credit, given that she's Voldemort wearing Ginny's body like a suit, but…maybe she's a decent mother, despite it all. I mean, she faked being Ginny well enough. If I take them away from that…what would that do to them? And finally, even though I hate saying this…it's because they'd remind me of her."

"But you're fine with Delphi, and she's Voldemort's daughter," Harley said.

"I know…but…those kids…Ginnymort effectively raped me using Amortentia. She then murdered her brother and gloated that the child I gave her would be her meal ticket. Honestly, I can't even think of raising them, because I'm worried that, one day, I will see too much of their mother in them, and what she did to me to get them, and I will do something I regret. I was raised in an abusive household, and I don't want to be in a position where I would do even a fraction of what the Dursleys did to me. I know, that makes me an appalling father and an appalling human, but…"

"No, you're not. It's not a good thing, Harry," Harley said gently. "But you're able to admit as such, and there are problems with getting them back. Look…if you want to talk about it, I'm here. I was disbarred, but I haven't forgotten my psychiatric skills."

"…I'll think about it, Harley."

"That's fine. Let's just try to enjoy this night while we can…"

The night was enjoyable, but the next day was not. Harry glared at Dr Psycho while he used a Repair charm on the microwave. "Remember, you're a guest here!" he said to the misogynistic midget.

"As opposed to Ivy's cicisbeo?" Psycho retorted.

Harry blinked, and then looked to Harley, who was booting up her laptop to check her profile. "Sissy-what?"

"Cicisbeo. Basically, male mistress. He was totally calling you Ivy's manwhore. Tie him up if you want, just leave him intact for later," Harley said.

Harry muttered expletives under his breath, before using an Incarcerous on Psycho, and sending him back to the couch, none-too-gently. Pamela chose that moment to burst out of her room, wielding her hairbrush, covered in mud. "Clayface," she said to the hammy actor, "have you been using my hairbrush again?"

Part of the mud dropped off and crawled over to him, being reabsorbed into his body. "…No?" Clayface said uncertainly.

Harry used a Scourgify on the brush, with Pamela nodding in thanks, before turning to Clayface. "For fuck's sake, you're messing up my apartment!"

Sy Borgman chose that moment to make himself known, opening the door to the apartment. "Your apartment? It's my apartment, Isley, and if your…circus performers keep messing things up, you're outta here! Remember the rules: no pets, noise, commies, d…" Pamela slid the door shut on an outraged Sy.

"That was going to get racist or something, I just know it," Pamela said with a groan. "I'll have to call up Oracle, see if we can find a bigger place. I actually called them last night about your profile, Harley. They don't help with nemesis-matching, but they're sending a subcontractor who does. Nanaue, actually."

"Gesundheit?" Psycho asked.

"She means King Shark," Harry said. "Oracle introduced him to us about a month before Pamela broke out Harley. He's a nice guy, actually, despite his looks."

Clayface grinned. "Ah, good old King Shark. You would not know it to gaze upon his most fearsome visage, but he is a hacker par excellence, and a social media maven. He took me from eight followers to…eight…teen!"

"So…I'm guessing he looks a bit like his cognomen?" Psycho asked. "Like a shark fucked a man?"

"Yes. And don't think I've forgotten what the pair of you did. You, Psycho, tried to mind-control the microwave, while drunk, and burned a hole into my countertop. And you, Clayface, keep staining my carpet. I'm glad Harry is here to help fix some of these issues, because I would be at breaking point with Sy on my case," Pamela said.

Clayface raised what passed for a muddy eyebrow. "Yes, I would've thought robots to be more helpful."

"He's a cyborg and a disabled person, not a robot," Pamela groaned.

Harley groaned from where she sat with her laptop. "Ugh, no new messages? What the actual hell?"

"Give it time, it's been up for less than a day," Pamela said. "And there's no A-Listers on that site, to my knowledge." There was a knock on the door, and Pamela snapped, "Sy, I'll have those trash cans out soon. Get off my…" But when she opened the door, a hulking figure in a hoodie walked in.

To those who didn't know him, he looked as menacing as, well, a walking shark-man would look. But Harry and Pamela had met him before, as had Clayface, and Pamela, after a moment's shock, smiled. "Dammit, Nanaue, don't startle me like that! I thought you were the landlord again!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Ivy," the shark-man said in a surprisingly jovial tone.

"…Wait, what?" Harley asked.

"Howdy!" Nanaue said with a wave and a surprisingly friendly smile for a shark, and considering said smile had rows of the razor-sharp teeth, it was very friendly in spite of that. "Oracle filled me in. So you're Harley Quinn, huh? Heard about you breaking things off with the Joker. Good on you. That guy was bad news. You're trying to find a nemesis, right?"

"Yeah, I set up a profile, but I'm not getting any bites!"

Nanaue shot her a glare. "…Is that meant to be a shark joke?" As Harley cringed, worried she might have offended him, he chortled. "Don't worry, it was a good one, accidental or not. You can tell whether people want to offend you with such things. Just don't ask me to watch a Jaws or Deep Blue Sea marathon, and we're cool. Now, let's take a look at your profile, okay?"

CHAPTER 13 ANNOTATIONS:

So, here we have the first part of Finding Mr Right, but with an extra scene that helps strengthen the relationship between Harry, Ivy and Harley. Plus, King Shark! I love the take on him in this series.

The discussion between Harley and Harry about Ginnymort's children was added after a few reviews on the initial run of chapters pointed out Harry's lack of urgency in trying to find them. I put these reasons in. They're not necessarily good reasons, but they're not unreasonable ones either, considering he was effectively raped. Harry's trying hard not to think about the whole mess with them…as it's too many issues. Plus, they need to find Ginnymort in the first place.

The irony is, I actually have a possible ending that will render it somewhat moot.

Review-answering time! Tenzo51: Well, yes, actually, if the Guardians of the Galaxy were a bit more criminally-inclined. I wish I'd thought of that analogy. Well done.

nina0116: He does, but he's leery of using a Basilisk gaze. Harry will kill, yes, but as a last resort.

Lucius Walker: Uhh, how was it wholesome?

Skull Flame: I can't take the credit for bringing in Queen of Fables, she was brought in by the writers of Harley Quinn. I mostly added and built on what is canon to the first two series (which means my fic may get superseded by the upcoming third series). For example, Black Mask, AFAIK, isn't ever mentioned in the original show, nor is Black Canary or Green Arrow. Harley being Hugo Strange's protégé is something I took from the Arkhamverse. Ivy being taught and tormented by Jason Woodrue comes from the comics, of course, and I shaped it to fit the continuity of this series. In fact, Ivy in the show was in Arkham for at least six months prior to breaking out and taking Harley with her, whereas in this fic, she managed to stay out.

Sable Dawn: Don't ask me. That's what they did in the show. And it's not confined to the Legion of Doom: in the second series, Darkseid claims he would never use the C-word himself. Despite being, you know, a living embodiment of tyranny who massacres and enslaves all in his path.

No numbered annotations this time.