A/N: TRIGGER WARNING for domestic abuse.

...

7. Villains League Unlimited

There are well-thought-out crimes, such as robbing banks, stealing incredibly valuable art, and pulling off jewel heists.

There are poorer-thought-out crimes, such as breaking into a delicatessen just to eat pistachio fluff with one's bare hands.

Ragdoll, Firefly, and Harley liked to indulge in a little of both.

...

Deciding on after-crime entertainment was sometimes a struggle. Harley had a laundry list of movies she wanted to watch with her friends, while Garfield had a laundry list of video games to introduce them to. When the two of them turned to Peter to break the tie, Peter simply replied, "Well, as you know, I'm very flexible."

"I honestly don't know how we didn't see that coming," Garfield groaned.

They flipped a coin, and Harley won the toss.

"Animated princesses?" Garfield groaned as she loaded her DVD of choice. "Give me a break."

"Well, I won the coin toss," Harley insisted, "so deal with it."

"Peter." Garfield looked to their third companion from across the couch. "Save me. Overrule her."

"This is a musical, right?" Peter asked Harley.

"Yup!" Harley confirmed.

"You're on your own, Garfield," Peter stated.

It ended up being worth it to hear Harley and Peter belting every single song at the top of their lungs.

...

The downside of having a large and lavish safehouse was that it required a lot of cleaning, and now that Peter had a roommate and a guest so frequent she practically lived there, he wasn't about to let them get away without pitching in with their share of the work. Garfield ended up scrubbing the bathroom floor, Harley ran a vacuum cleaner over the carpet (picking up a plethora of stray popcorn), and Peter found himself elbow-deep in a sink of sudsy water and dirty dishes.

Harley suddenly stopped her vacuuming near the kitchen, practically breaking down into giggles.

"Something amusing?" Peter asked, looking up from his work.

"You know what you are?" Harley asked, barely holding back her giggle fits.

"All right, I'll bite. What am I?"

Harley had to fight another bout of laughter in order to get out the word "DISHRAGDOLL."

"Very clever," Peter remarked, and Harley missed his smile growing just that much more evil.

Harley switched the vacuum back on and returned to her work; Peter took the opportunity to flit behind her and drop the wet, dirty dishrag down the back of her shirt.

Harley gave a high-pitched scream, shutting off the vacuum. "THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!"

"You started it by calling me names."

Harley looked over to the sink, and Peter realized all too late what she was about to do. She beat him to it, grabbing hold of the sprayer attachment.

"Think about what you're doing," Peter warned as she pointed the sprayer directly at his face.

"Hmmm…" Harley made a pensive face. "Yup, just thought it over. And I'm still doing it." She pulled the trigger.

Upon hearing the screams emanating from the kitchen, Garfield threw his sponge down on the bathroom floor in exasperation. He stormed out of the bathroom to see Harley chasing Peter around the kitchen with the sprayer, soaking him at every opportunity until Peter finally got out of the sprayer's reach.

"AM I THE ONLY ADULT IN THIS HOUSE?" Garfield roared, at which point Harley shut off the sprayer.

"We were just havin' a little fun," she said innocently.

Garfield shook his head. "Sometimes, with you two, I don't know if I'm your best friend or your babysitter. Also, if either of you tries to make me clean up all that water, the answer is no." He turned back to head to the bathroom, beginning to hum a distinct tune.

"Hey, Gar," Harley said to get his attention back.

"What?"

"You said you didn't like the movies I picked, but I DEFINITELY know that song."

"…It was catchy," Garfield argued.

"Real catchy," Harley went on, "since you seem to know it so well after only seeing the movie the one time."

Garfield knew when he was caught in the spider's web. "Okay, so I might have had a thing for cartoon musicals as a kid," he admitted. "I MIGHT have worn out a few tapes rewatching things. But this NEVER leaves this apartment, got it? I have a rep to keep up!"

"Secret's safe with me!" Harley promised.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Peter agreed.

As soon as Garfield had re-entered the bathroom, Peter, just loudly enough for Garfield to hear on purpose, asked Harley, "So when do we release Garfield's guilty pleasure taste in cinema to the entirety of the Fourth Circle?"

Garfield wasted no time running back into the kitchen and hurling the wet sponge at Peter's face.

...

"Gar," Harley said with disgust during a video game night, "this has gotta be the most disgustingly sexist game I've ever seen."

"Don't care," Garfield replied.

"I expected better of you, Gar! Don't you know anything about how to treat a woman with respect?"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'm just as game for a game where you get to hit on scantily clad slutty guys?"

Harley upended her bowl of popcorn on Garfield's head.

"You realize vacuuming that up is YOUR chore," Peter reminded her.

...

Harley burst through the apartment door in a state of elation. "MR. FREEZE IS ATTACKING THE CITY!" she screamed.

Garfield and Peter looked up from the books they'd been reading in the living room. "And this affects us how?" Garfield asked.

"The entire southeast side is covered in a blizzard of ice and snow!" Harley explained. "And you know what that means!"

"Ridiculous spikes in heating bills?" Peter guessed.

"It means we can go out and have a SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Harley squealed.

"No, it doesn't," Garfield stated, grumpily turning back to his book.

"Awww, why not?" Harley asked. "Is it because you don't wanna be reminded of working with Freezie-Pop?"

"Yes," Garfield informed her. "That, and I am way too old for…wait, 'Freezie-Pop'…?"

"The blizzard's big enough that we don't even have to get CLOSE to Freezie if we don't want to," Harley argued. "C'mon, Gar, please?"

"No."

"Pleeeaaaase?" Harley pouted at Garfield, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.

"We are NOT having a snowball fight," Garfield insisted, ignoring her to look at his book. "Peter, back me up on this."

"Garfield?" Peter replied.

"What?"

"Garfield, look at me."

Garfield looked back up to see that Peter, standing next to Harley, had adopted her exact same pout, with even shinier puppy-dog eyes. "Can't we have a little fun, Garfield?" he asked.

"Nooooooooo." Garfield covered his eyes with his book. "Don't give me that look. I can't take it from BOTH of you."

They both held firm, knowing he'd have to put the book down sometime. And he did.

"Okay, fine," Garfield relented. "Let's go have a snowball fight. It's not like I don't already know you guys are going to make it fun anyway."

"YAY!" Harley screamed, throwing both fists into the air.

"Though seriously, Peter, you're, like, ten years older than me," Garfield muttered as he got up off the couch. "How are you still into SNOWBALL FIGHTS?"

"What that means is that if I'm not too old for snowball fights, Garfield," Peter replied smugly, "YOU'RE not too old for snowball fights."

"…Point."

...

"IT'S OVER, HARLEY! I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND!" Garfield crowed from atop a mound of snow.

"Oh, yeah?" Harley gathered a sphere of snow up into her hands, ready to let it fly. "We'll see about – "

A snowball pelted her on the back of the head. "HEY!" she screamed.

"CHARGE!" Peter cried, running at Harley at full tilt from behind. Garfield slid down the snow mound, letting his own projectiles fly until both men had completely covered Harley in snow.

"You two planned this!" Harley accused. "You talked about teamin' up behind my back!"

"We sure did," Garfield confirmed, having run out of snowballs. "The ORIGINAL roommates reign supreme – "

A snowball smacked him in the face, and Harley wasn't the one who had thrown it.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Garfield yelled at Peter.

"Double-crossing you," Peter said casually as he bent to scoop up another snowball, taking advantage of Garfield's flummoxed state to pelt him right in the chest.

"But…WHY?"

"Because I felt like it."

"Oh," Garfield replied. "Oh, I see how it is." He knelt and scooped up as much snow as he could possibly carry into his hands. "Peter Merkel, you are DEAD."

Peter simply spun on a heel and ran, Garfield trying his best to catch up so he could dump a truckload of snow on him. "IF I HAD MY BATTLE SUIT, YOU'D BE TOAST RIGHT NOW!" Garfield screamed.

Commissioner James Gordon almost took no notice of them as he sped toward the center of the storm, where he knew Freeze to be. However, when he spotted the triple blondes out of his peripheral vision, it occurred to them that one of them looked strangely like Garfield Lynns, who should have at that moment been imprisoned for several counts of arson and related crimes. And the woman laughing at him bore too much of a resemblance to Harley Quinzel, who was supposed to be undergoing treatment at Arkham Asylum for her criminal tendencies. And, as Gordon slowed the car to get a better look, it was all too coincidental that the third of their group bore a strong resemblance to Peter Merkel, who should also have been Arkham-bound.

Gordon stopped the car.

Garfield cornered Peter against a wall, hurling his armful of snow. "Double-cross THIS!" Harley caught up to them, breathless from jogging and laughing at the same time.

"HEY, YOU!" Gordon yelled, rushing at the three, badge extended.

"I…think we're in trouble," Garfield realized. So he, Peter, and Harley did the first thing that came to mind: they each scooped up a handful of snow and molded it behind their backs.

Gordon unclipped a radio from his belt. "Gordon, requesting backup on Third," he said quickly. "Looking for Freeze. FOUND Firefly, Ragdoll, and Harley Quinn." He put away the radio, staring down his targets. "You three know you're not supposed to be out here."

"Can't ya just let us off with a warnin', officer?" Harley asked innocently, clutching the snowball behind her back all the more tightly.

By that time, several more cars had amassed behind Gordon's. Apparently, Freeze could wait. "You're all under arrest," Gordon stated, "and I think you know why."

"All right," Peter decided, beaming widely. "Do it now."

He, Garfield, and Harley, in one fluid motion, brought out their hidden snowballs and pelted Gordon in the face with them. As the commissioner stumbled backward, the trio turned and ran as fast as they could, laughing and screeching all the way.

By this time, several officers had caught up to Gordon. "Should we go after them?" one asked.

Gordon was caught between the wayward trio and Freeze. And after a brief moment of thought, Freeze won out. "No. Let's get back to the mission at hand."

...

"Okay, you just picked up the best sword in the game," Garfield informed Peter during yet another late-night video game session. "Equip it right now and NEVER take it off."

"Are you KIDDING me?" Harley argued. "It's more like the WORST sword in the game! Peter, leave it alone. You want the NEXT sword."

"No, THAT'S the worst sword in the game," Garfield insisted. "All it does is boost magic. You don't want that sword."

"Um, excuse you," Harley retaliated, "but magic is the only way to beat the game. You gotta focus on upgradin' all your spells and bein' able to HEAL. You can't just expect to beat everything to death with the strongest sword!"
"Um, yes. Yes, you can. You don't NEED magic. I don't even get why there's magic in this game. It's just a distracting mechanic."

"That sword's ugly, anyway. The next one's way cuter."

"YOU DON'T PICK SWORDS BECAUSE THEY'RE CUTE, HARLEY!"

As his friends argued, Peter decided he liked the statistics of a completely different sword than either of them wanted, equipped it, and left it there for the rest of the night. Neither Garfield nor Harley noticed.

...

Neither Garfield nor Peter had found an interesting job in a while, so they made a night out of haunting the Fourth Circle in case anyone was seeking a thief or an arsonist, and Harley tagged along for the fun of it. However, it seemed that night, no fish were biting.

"How can no one need anything burned down?" Garfield sighed.

"And no one needs anything stolen, either," Peter added. "Pity."

Harley nodded solemnly. "Sorry this didn't pan out, guys. At least we…"

A certain song began to float forth from the great speakers, and Harley immediately perked up. "That's my SONG!" she screamed, running out onto the dance floor and immediately bopping along.

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Peter remarked, watching Harley groove to the beat. Her moves weren't choreographed, and her coordination wasn't the best, but she was obviously having fun, and her energy was utterly infectious.

"What's not a…" Garfield realized where Peter was going. "Oh, no. Ohhhhh, no, no, no. Listen. You guys won me over to snowball fights. You guys won me back over to cartoon musicals. And I don't regret any of that. But you are NOT getting me to DANCE."

"And why not?"

"Because…I just don't, okay?"

Peter could sense that unlike Garfield's usual brand of stubbornness, there was a sense of trepidation, maybe even anxiety, here. He forged his battle plan around it. "Suit yourself. If you need me, I'll be enjoying myself." He gave Garfield one last coy look with a wink as he stepped out onto the floor.

Garfield's theory about what Peter was like as a dancer was absolutely correct. The man was hypnotizing, moving fluidly and gracefully, spinning and snapping to the rhythm of the music that permeated the room. Though he was obviously making everything up as he went along, he gave off the impression that he'd spent years choreographing this very dance. Garfield found he actually couldn't take his eyes off of him, always wondering what he'd do next, how beautiful he could truly be when given the right song as a backdrop.

Peter and Harley crossed each other, and Peter whispered something to Harley, who nodded. They passed each other again, and Harley whispered back. Garfield wondered momentarily whether Peter had been lying about Harley being his secret crush. The two did seem to complement each other well.

It didn't even occur to him that their whispering was the organization of a sinister plan until both of them suddenly rushed Garfield, each grabbed one of his arms, and dragged him forcibly out onto the dancefloor.

"Whoa, no, no, NO!" Garfield protested, but by that time, they'd thrust him into the crowd of dancers, all moving in their own way to the infectious thrumming of the music.

"Come on!" Harley encouraged, nudging Garfield in the upper arm before resuming her energetic movements.

"Surely you won't be the only one on the floor not to dance, Garfield," Peter challenged, returning to his own poised, complex frolic.

"All right," Garfield sighed. "You win. As usual." If he was going to dance, he thought, he wasn't going to half-bake it. He would go all-out. There was simply no in-between. And so he began to move.

His dance was perhaps the biggest spectacle on the floor. Garfield Lynns was the most uncoordinated bundle of flailing limbs to be found in the Fourth Circle. He kicked, he jumped, he nearly stumbled but attempted to save himself time after time. After some time, he became aware of two very distinct laughs; he halted to see that Peter and Harley had ceased their dance in order to have a chuckle at him. "Great," he sighed. "You guys drag me out here just to laugh at me. I'm done." He made to storm off the floor.

"No!" Peter put a hand up to Garfield's chest to stop him, almost desperate in the act. Garfield regarded him with a good degree of confusion.

"We promise not to laugh anymore," Harley said sincerely, and Peter gave an emphatic nod.

"We've had our fun laughing," Peter vowed. "Now we're going to have our fun dancing."

"I. SUCK. At dancing," Garfield emphasized.

"You just need to dance a little closer to me, then," Peter said with the most coy version of his smile yet. "I'll make you look good."

"If anyone could," Garfield admitted, "it'd be you."

"Spin," Peter commanded, taking one of Garfield's hands and raising it high over both their heads. Garfield made a quick, clumsy spin before Peter pulled him back into a dip.

"Now," Peter stated, looking down at Garfield, "you're on your own." He jerked Garfield back up to full height before spinning away to dance on his own.

"Eh…what've I got to lose?" Garfield gave a shrug, then resumed his frenetic flailing.

Some of the others who looked from afar found it completely hilarious that the infamous Firefly had absolutely no rhythm or coordination. However, most simply glanced over the trio as a whole, and so long as Garfield was flanked by the lithe Peter and lively Harley, the unit didn't look half bad.

It was at that moment that Garfield realized he really needed to just stop complaining and let Peter and Harley talk him into whatever they wanted, as cutting loose and dancing without a worry about what his potential clients might think of him had yielded him the most fun he'd had in a long time.

...

Despite being the oldest of the triad, Peter had considerably less experience playing video games than Harley and Garfield. The latter two had to instruct him how to wield many a controller.

All the same, the man was an absolute savant at racing games.

"That's thirty-four for thirty-four," he boasted as he pulled into the lead and crossed the finish line, all the while hanging upside-down from his chair and still managing to play perfectly coordinatedly.

"How…how are you even doin' that?" Harley asked in awe.

"Okay, but you're not getting thirty-five," Garfield vowed. "Harley, team-up to run him off the track?"

"I'm on it!" Harley crowed.

"Victory number thirty-five, coming up," Peter muttered as they started another round.

...

Harley was as happy as ever as she burst into the safehouse in full costume. "You guys just missed the GREATEST heist!" she laughed. "Say what you want about Mr. J, but he knows how to have a good time!"

Peter and Garfield looked away from the sitcom they'd been riffing. "So you're giving us permission to say whatever we want about Joker?" Peter teased.

"That's your takeaway?" Harley sighed. "I'm gonna go clean up." She headed to the bathroom to wash off her clownish makeup.

"Bat give you any trouble?" Garfield called after her.

"Not a bit!" Harley yelled back. "He didn't even show up until it was too late and we were already on the getaway! You shoulda seen the look on his face! You shoulda seen the look on the BATGIRL'S face!" She emerged proudly from the bathroom. "So! What're we watchin'?"

Peter and Garfield stared at her in somewhat of shock, trying to figure out how to bring up what she'd revealed when she removed her makeup.

"Somethin' wrong?" Harley asked, confused.

"How'd you get…" Garfield used a finger to circle a ring around his eye.

"Aw, man…" Harley moaned, leaning back into the bathroom to get a look at herself in the mirror. She was sporting a rather prominent black eye. "I did get a shiner."

"How did that come about?" Peter asked, reiterating Garfield's sentiment.

"Uh…" Harley thought it over. "We had a real bad bout with the Batman!" She walked over to the couch and plopped down on the cushion next to Garfield. "He got me right in the eye – "

"Um, you just said you got away before the Bat could touch you," Garfield reminded her.

"Yeah…I did, didn't I?" Harley realized. "I might've gotten some of the events of the story mixed up…"

"You're lying, aren't you?" Peter figured. "Harley, why are you lying?"

"Well…okay, I know exactly how I got it," Harley admitted, "but ya gotta promise you won't freak out."

She was met with a dual response of "No promises."

All the same, Harley knew she had to come out with the truth. "I kinda got in Mr. J's way," she revealed. "And he…well…he's real sorry, and he said he wouldn't do it again – "

"WHAT?" Garfield and Peter blurted at once.

"That's it," Peter decided. "You're not dating him anymore. Starting now. Problem solved."

"Hey!" Harley snapped. "You can't tell me who I can and can't date! Which one of us has the online psychology degree? WHICH one of us knows romance better than anybody else? It was an accident!"

"Sure it was," Garfield said dryly. "Because we can all buy Joker being a sweetheart."

"He IS to ME!" Harley insisted. "What do you guys care, anyway? Peter, you tried to blow me up with one of my own grenades when we first met!"

"We weren't friends then," Peter specified. "We were in the middle of a turf war. Insofar as the contents of a jewelry store are turf."

"As the adult of the house – " Garfield began.

"Still older than you," Peter reminded him.

Garfield fixed Peter with a pointed gaze. "Okay, of the two of us, which one of us contorted himself into a public mailbox and couldn't figure out how to get back out while the other had to try and melt down the box without taking out that first person's face in the process?" He turned back to Harley. "The thing is, normally, we couldn't care less about Joker treating his henchpeople like crud. But we kind of adopted you, so now you have to deal with us disapproving when your boyfriend SOCKS YOU IN THE FACE." It was true; neither passed judgment when it came to hearing about other villains smacking their henchpeople around, and there had been times both had wanted to just shove Killer Moth off a bridge and be done with it. Harley, however, was a different case. Once again, she was just far too likable to Garfield and Peter's tastes for them being able to stand for her being abused.

"It wasn't like that!" Harley asserted.

"You're saying he DIDN'T sock you in the face?"

"Well…he…he did, but…"

"You're done with him," Peter insisted.

"Because YOU said?" Harley stood up. "This is why I didn't wanna tell you guys. I KNEW you'd make a big deal out of this. You've NEVER understood what I see in him, and I know it!"

Peter stood as well, reminding Harley that he was taller. "Maybe we don't understand what you see in him. But I think we understand him. And it's time for you to let…him…go." He mimed a motion reminiscent of letting go of a balloon string. "It isn't hard."

Harley blinked hard; tears were welling up. "I don't have to take this from you guys."

"Did you tell Joker that when he slugged you?" Garfield asked, taking a standing position as well.

"Neither of you can stop me from bein' with him," Harley went on, now unable to stop the tears from pouring. "It just…it isn't what you think!" She turned to head for the door.

"What, you're WALKING OUT now?" Garfield called after her.

"I'll come back," she promised. "And maybe when I come back, you two will stop bein' such jerks!" She stormed to the exit, slamming the door hard.

"He slugged her in the face," Garfield reiterated, "and WE'RE the jerks? I mean, yeah, Peter, you're ALWAYS a jerk, but this time, we…whaaaaaat are you doing?"

"Suiting up," Peter answered casually as he stepped into his bedroom, closing the door all but a crack.

"For WHAT?" Garfield asked, baffled.

"She's right, you know," Peter called back out through the slightly open door. "We can't stop her from seeing him. But we CAN get back at him for giving her a black eye." He emerged from the room in full guise as Ragdoll. "You've heard the phrase 'an eye for an eye,' haven't you?"

"What are you gonna do?" Garfield asked. "Punch JOKER in the face?"

"That's the plan."

"I want in," Garfield decided.

...

In a warehouse by the city limits, Joker had lined up several hired hands who had worked for him since the Rumor incident; Harley was absent, having decided to take time to herself, and Joker couldn't care less about this. He paced back and forth before them, giving them their briefing. "Thanks to our last success, we have everything we need," he informed them. "Gotham isn't going to know what hit it!"

"But you are," a smug voice stated from behind Joker.

Joker turned about-face to see Firefly and Ragdoll standing behind him. "Well, it isn't every day I get visitors!" he remarked, clasping his hands in mock flattery. "Third-rate hacks, of course, but still, visitors. Now, what do you two want? And it better be good."

Without needing a further cue, Ragdoll drew back his right fist, and Firefly drew back his left. They both let fly, and their fists connected gloriously with Joker's face, drawing a cry of rage out of him as the purple-clad supervillain toppled over backward.

At first, Firefly and Ragdoll were filled with satisfaction; they'd just punched one of Gotham's most powerful and influential crime lords in the face. But as Joker peeled himself off the ground, glaring daggers, it occurred to them that punching one of Gotham's most powerful and influential crime lords in the face might not have been such a good idea after all.

"Oh, boys," Joker commanded, "show our guests the way out."

The legion of henchmen advanced, pounding weapons such as crowbars into their hands.

"…Toodles?" Ragdoll volunteered before Firefly seized him and took off to escape through the skylight they'd entered through.

"We might have just screwed up," Firefly admitted. "He is NEVER going to let us forget this."

"If he wants revenge," Ragdoll reminded Firefly, "he'll have to catch us."

"I bet he has a way. This isn't over by a long shot."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Ragdoll stated confidently.

...

Two weeks later, Firefly and Ragdoll exited the site of their latest heist, an electronics developer where prototypes for the latest cell phone were being held, with arms full of stolen goods they knew would fetch some excellent prices among the clientele of the Fourth Circle. On their way to deposit their prizes in the ice cream truck, they noticed that said truck had completely disappeared.

A high-pitched laugh unmistakably belonging to Joker broke through the night. The truck was visible disappearing around the corner in the distance.

"He did NOT," Firefly groaned.

"Could be worse," Ragdoll pointed out. "He could have tried to – "

As Ragdoll was speaking, Firefly noticed the small lavender device left where the truck had been parked; "R.D., LOOK OUT!" Dropping the phone prototypes, he grabbed hold of Ragdoll and immediately blasted off into the sky; the sudden movement caused Ragdoll to drop everything he was carrying as well.

Below them, the bomb exploded, taking out a couple nearby parked cars as well as everything Firefly and Ragdoll had taken care to steal. But, fortunately, due to Firefly's quick recognition of the bomb for what it was, he and Ragdoll made it out of the blast range.

"…blow us up," Ragdoll finished halfheartedly.

...

"What did you guys DO?" Harley asked in disbelief as she entered the apartment. "Mr. J completely repainted the truck, and I asked him to give it back, but he just outright refused."

"He can keep it," Peter replied from his usual position on the chair. "It probably smells of him now anyway."

"Look, I'm sorry for snappin' at you guys about Mr. J," Harley sighed, "but this has gotta stop."

"We got our revenge," Garfield informed her. "I think we're good."

"We can't stop you from seeing him, after all," Peter added. Then, half under his breath but still audible, "as much as we'd love to."

"He…he asked if I knew where you two were hidin' out," Harley admitted, shuffling her feet. "I said no. I still believe he never meant to hurt me. But…I don't trust him not to hurt either of you."

"You probably shouldn't trust either of us not to hurt him, either," Peter pointed out.

"That too," Harley admitted sternly. "Can we all just agree to disagree here?"

Peter and Garfield looked to each other, and they could read each other's mind perfectly: they still had many, many problems with Joker thinking he could smack their friend around as he pleased. However, the only thing they could do further to protect Harley at this point would be to tie her up and lock her in the back room, and that would have completely defeated the purpose. She was bent on seeing Joker, and there was no stopping her with words alone. Agreeing to disagree was the only viable option left.

"Agree to disagree it is," Peter relented.

"It's your turn to pick for movie night, by the way," Garfield added.

Harley settled down onto the couch, and things returned to relative normalcy.

...

Such were the ups and downs of the year that Gotham spent rebuilding since the attack of the Joining. After all that time, Peter reflected, it would only have made sense for his feelings for Garfield to have abated.

But instead, they had become stronger, and by the end of the year, Peter was absolutely in love with him.