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Pygmalion
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Chapter 4
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"Don't send a dog to the butcher shop." – Yiddish Saying
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"You want me to play with them … but not to kill them?"
"That is exactly what I said."
Giggle.
"But that's so boring—I can't even kill one of them?"
"Not a single one."
Laugh.
"I think you've found your sense of humor, boss-lady."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"You look like you swallowed a lemon while someone was giving you a prostate exam, but I don't judge."
Glare.
"I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but wouldn't killing them just make your life … I don't know, easier?"
"On the contrary, it would be the complete opposite."
"In what way?"
Pause.
"What happens when you knock off the highest point of the pyramid, Ms. Quinn?"
Laugh.
"Ah … I get it. You've already put all you've got into the kingpins out there—don't wanna have to deal with the ones who come up after their dead. No dirt on them, hm?"
"I'm glad we're on the same page."
"Okay, so no killing. But everything else goes, right?"
"Do as you wish, but make sure they're alive afterwards."
"Oh goody! Keeping them alive just makes things more fun!"
Pause.
"One more thing."
"Hm?"
"There is one leader in particular whose path you should never cross, even by accident."
"And that person would be … ?"
"You know him very well—at least, Dr. Quinzel did. He would have been her patient, if she had made it to work that morning."
Pause.
Glare.
Glare.
"… no promises."
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"You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation." – Plato
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Harley was aware of the fact that there were many times in her life when … she couldn't quite remember what she did, or why she did things. It was a brief period of time where everything went black, literally. During that time, not only could she not remember what happened, none of the voices in her head did either.
It was almost like her brain went into a "shut down" mode.
Weird, right?
This was not when "Harlequin" took over—no, she was always fully conscious of her actions in those instances. Instead, this was an entirely different state of mind. Thankfully, these moments only lasted for a matter of seconds, never longer. But for whatever she did during those instants, anything could happen.
Anything did happen.
And this was definitely the case when she woke up from, what the psychiatric field called, a "fugue" state.
There was a gun in her hand, raised in front of her smoking. The gun glistened with gold and jewels on the outside. It was so tiny it only held one small bullet, and it also happened to be dripping wet.
Harley was standing up straight, standing completely naked in one of the biggest tubs she'd ever seen before. The only thing covering her bare, dripping form was all the foamy pink and blue suds that made up her bath water.
Harley blinked.
Where was she again?
Harley, this was not one of your best ideas.
She was standing in a tub that was completely sunken into the floor, the pure white tiles illuminated with gold and gems. It was literally big enough to hide a least … ten bodies if drained and covered. No, make that twelve.
Wow … really big.
Her eyes looked around when she heard a water running somewhere in the background.
She examined the gun in her hands.
Had she fired this?
Yes, you fired it!
He's gonna bleed out if you don't do something fast!
That was when she noticed the half dressed figure laying on the ground, completely still. There was a pool of blood trickling from his shoulder.
Wait a minute … was that—?
Oh shit!
Harley dropped the gun and it fell into the water as she scrambled out of the bubbles and ran over to the unconscious clown. Still dripping wet, she crouched over the lifeless form on the floor. The green-haired man made absolutely no sound as she touched him She saw his chest rising and falling, and realized that he was still alive.
Completely forgetting that she wasn't wearing clothes, Harley turned the Joker over onto his back. Blood was coming out of a tiny hole on his neck, the wound merely a graze. It was already starting to clot.
You killed the Joker!
You killed Mistah Jay!
That was like … the only thing you were told not to do!
That and not meet him, but since that bridge was completely burnt to ashes …
He's still breathing … That was her that time.
Barely …
Harley inspected him quickly. There was no evidence of any other wound than the one on his neck, and the bump on his head. Drawing the conclusion that he must have fallen over from the dramatic drop in blood pressure, she realized the reason for his unconscious state was from the blow to his head when it landed on the tile.
She immediately stripped off the purple silk pajama top that he had been wearing, making it easier that he didn't even have it buttoned. She left his pants where they were, seeing as they were absolutely no use to her.
Ripping the fabric to shreds, she formed a tourniquet to wrap around the wound, making sure not to suffocate him in the process. With what was left of the sleeveless shirt, she put on herself. She buttoned it up the first few buttons around her neck before tying the rest of the loose fabric beneath her breasts. With the remaining shreds of the sleeve she hadn't used on the clown, she fastened the closest thing to a pair of panties she could muster from a pair of triangles in a few seconds.
Once in her new ensemble, she looked around.
Where am I?
The bathroom.
Don't you remember that … lovely bath?
After their last "activities" on the floor, Harley had been quite content for a few moments while she basked in her afterglow. All the voices in her head finally shut up for a few moments, so she was able to relax for once.
Sadly, the king of Gotham wasn't happy with her relaxing.
She didn't remember why, but he sat up from the floor after their little session and Harley remembered he'd had a strange look on his face. Well, from her passed out angle on the floor, she could see him looking at the bed in a very "odd" manner. She blinked at it, and then the next thing she knew she was being hoisted up and carried into the bathroom.
Actually, calling it a bathroom was a little bit of an understatement.
A little?
The thing was ginormous—more square feet than the sleeping area.
Although it looked somewhat normal when walking in at first—tile floors, counters and mirrors—it was an ordinary bathroom. Sadly, this was just the "foyer" to the entire place, as it was actually just a balcony to a swimming pool sized body of water. The pool was two balconies beneath them, completely full with a waterfall coming down into it. And a slide! A water slide into the water!
We really have to learn to swim …
It was a f**kin' lagoon!
Thankfully the clown did not send her down the ominous slide, and instead took her over to an even more daunting shower that was big enough to be a walk in closet. She remembered wondering if it doubled as sauna. The Joker put her down on the built-in set of stairs inside (she was sure sitting on them was their main function anyway) and then turned on the hot water. Then, he stripped her of what was left of her clothes and threw them away before he started hosing her off.
Well, he was a tad bit more gentle than that …
Okay, so he held her in his lap while he lathered soap all over her skin with a rather soft sponge. But no matter how many times Harley protested, or moaned from her half-asleep state, he wouldn't let her go until until he was satisfied.
His satisfaction did not come until after all the caked on blood that had dried around the inside of her thighs was gone, and the water going down the drain was no longer red.
The Joker had not let her see his face during that little episode.
That had been really weird too …
Of course the entire time, she was almost certain she was babbling about anything that came to mind, from replying to the voices in her head to commenting on the gold tiles she was looking at. Strangely, the person giving her the impromptu bath was quiet throughout this. It had almost been like he didn't hear her.
Afterwards he earned her silence with a glass of grape soda with sparkles inside. She'd been so thirsty she didn't care that it had been drugged.
It didn't make her sleepy—quite the opposite.
She was wide awake and extremely horny after that took full effect.
She could still remember how cold the tiles were against her breasts and nipples as she gladly let him f**k her again. They had been bucking like wild animals for hours, until the water coming down on them was ice cold.
You were showing off how flexible you were …
While Mistah Jay was showing off how much … endurance he had.
Oh yeah, that.
How long did that one session last? Three hours?
No, four.
It was a four hour build-up and a ten minute high, sweetie …
What Harley did remember that after the shower, he didn't even bother drying her off he simply took her back to bedroom. She remembered that the sheets were changed while they had been gone, and a good number of things had been added.
Harley remembered the contents of the bedroom.
Apparently, the Joker was a lavish gift-giver.
The area that housed the monstrosity that the Joker called a bed was newly adorned with enough blue and red roses to make her head spin, and enough gift baskets and packages to make her dizzy. Not to mention the giant white stuffed rabbit that was currently occupying the bed.
What the hell happened while she passed out?
A lot …
She remembered that they went back on the bed, and then … yeah, a lot did happen. This time, she used her newfound strength and energy—from that lovely cocktail he had given her—to enjoy a few more "activities".
Well, there was the Cowgirl and the Outlaw …
Then Miss Doctor and Patient …
Then the naughty Schoolgirl and Teacher …
Oh, don't forget Mistah Lion and Miss Bunny!
How the hell had she forgotten about those fuzzy pink bunny ears, hm?
… five broken tables, six maimed delivery boys, three sets of shredded sheets, twelve bottles of cherry rum, and four days later …
… and a partridge in a pear tree …
Mistah Jay was finally worn out … for the time being.
Either that, or he had just gotten bored.
He dragged Harley off to the bathroom again, this time for a bath. This one was on the first balcony beneath them, overlooking the "lagoon" below. He filled the tub with bubbles that tasted like cotton candy. Harley was only too disappointed when he wouldn't let her eat all of it. He held her firmly in his lap while he kissed each and every one of the bruises that had developed on her skin.
Yeah, then he gave you more …
She remembered giggling as he nipped at her thighs.
Harley didn't remember where or how she found the gun, but she did remember right after he got out of the water to dry himself off, he had said something to her that …. "set her off", so to speak.
All she heard were his mumbled words as he pulled on his pajamas.
Then next thing Harley knew, she was standing there with the smoking gun in her hands.
So … apparently here had been a reason to shoot him while she'd been out of it.
Hm, must have been pretty bad …
But she instantly remembered that she was told specifically not to kill the Joker, at all costs. So that was why she made sure he was alive before she made a break for it.
What had he said to her anyway?
You don't remember?
He said, and I quote, "What has …"
Harley instantly covered her hears, humming and making the most immature noises. "La la la!" she muttered. "I can't hear you."
You know very well what he said.
That was true, but that did not mean she wanted to hear it again.
It had been a joke about a ball and chain—and she hated the punchline.
She wanted to forget it at all costs!
But she couldn't, seeing as it was the reason for her "answer" to his joke. As soon as he'd said it, Harley realized something very … extremely important.
Gunshot went off seconds after she did.
So there Harley was, in a bathroom that could house a family of seals, trying to find something to help her.
But for the stupidest reason, she had a giant smile on her face.
Why?
She was just having too much fun.
Allowing her instincts to take over, Harley put her brain on hold. After completely emptying all the bathroom drawers, she finally found what she had been looking for—a brand new bright red lipstick. It had its own spot next to the hundred other fresh ones in the drawer. It took her only a few seconds to apply it to her lips, and to write out her message on the mirror afterwards. She left a kiss as her signature beneath it.
Then, she she crouched over "Puddin'" before whispering a thank you in his ear, and leaving an identical kiss mark on his cheek.
That was when she ran up the stairs and back into the bedroom.
Instantly looking around her, Harley analyzed all the tools available to her. The first thing she did was grab one of those giant lollipops from the giant daisy-shaped display before placing it into her mouth.
Mm, strawberry.
Harley grabbed the couch and dragged it over to block the bathroom door before her hands landed on one of the bigger vases of flowers. She poured out the flowers and water all over the floor as she went over to what she hoped was the closet.
Indeed it was, and indeed it belonged to the Joker.
It was bigger than most mid-sized homes, and rivaled the bathroom in size—it was at least four stories high. The clown king had enough suits to cloth himself everyday for all of his life sentences, and then some. She was more surprised that there were colors other than purple inside; lots of gold, black and red. Thankfully, there was a full display of weapons right next to his jewelry case.
Harley threw the vase through the glass, and instantly grabbed a belt of bullets to wrap around her waist and carry her knives as she gathered the fire arms that seemed the most fun. Then, a glimmer caught her eye.
She plucked up a gaudy necklace with "Joker" carved out of the gold pendant, and put it around her neck. It had been so long that it slipped under the shirt she was wearing, resting right between her breasts.
Harley also made sure to examine herself in the mirror.
Now isn't that just perfect?
Still barefoot, she managed to run through the house with ease seeing as that it was still dark outside. She went back through his room and into the hall, through the newly installed door, and down the hall. Harley finally found a set of stairs leading down, and ran through the gymnasium that was the living room. Thankfully, here was no one to stop her.
She had no idea it was, but it turned out daybreak was the only time goons slept.
After this, she ran around a little bit. She got a little lost when she saw that there were sections of the house that suddenly cut off and she found herself in what looked like an industrial plant. The Joker's house was built inside a factory.
Ingenious.
Why didn't we think of that?
Because our hideout is much cooler …
It definitely explained the lack of light coming through the ceiling—and the lack of any windows that weren't the ceiling.
The factory sections were a maze of twisted halls, decorated with florescent green and purple graphite and disturbingly grotesque steel structures. They couldn't be called statues, seeing as it looked as if someone had accidentally poured steel in various places all over the halls; like someone had been sloshing around a giant vat of molten steel and forgot it would harden.
That was when she found an answer to all the steel when she found a large broken sign hanging from the main bay. This factory was actually a steel mill.
Had been a steel mill.
We need to look up who Sionis is later.
It explained "chimney or forge" from earlier—both of which were customized fun-houses she passed as she broke into the security room to find a way of opening the doors.
All the steel was gone, and it had been replaced with a good number of vehicles. All cars in their owner's favorite color, but all of them modified in unique ways. There was a flamethrower on the front hood of the Maserati.
We have to get one of those!
The car or the flamethrower?
Both!
After she blew it up with one of the few grenades she had on her, she realized he'd be needing another soon too.
However, the big bang of an explosion caused quite a few goons to be flushed out of … wherever they had been.
Johnny was quite nice when she asked him to open the doors for her. He didn't even flinch when she held a gun to his head. All he wanted to know was if Mistah Jay was dead or not. Once she assured him his boss was still breathing when she left him only minutes ago, he was only too happy to instruct the other goons to open the bay doors while he went off to … probably call a doctor or something.
However, the head henchman did not have to bother.
Because the clown of crime marched right into the chaos shooting down his own men if they stood in his way.
Harley didn't even mind that the clown in question had recovered quite quickly from his injuries. He was definitely well enough to be coming through the doors with a hand gun in hand and a very pissed off expression on his face. Barking orders, they were mainly about making sure Harley did not go anywhere. Sadly, Harley lost most of her new toys to the several dozen goons she started dancing with.
Well, she didn't kill all of them …
She had not been giving the clown much attention, but did see him with a satisfied grin when she was finally cornered and out of ammunition. There was only one thing she could do when she found the goons closing in on her.
With a giggle and twist, Harley delightedly grabbed the first goon that was near her, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
There was a very awkward pause after this, and when Harley pulled away she was very confused for a few seconds.
The Joker broke the silence by emptying all his bullets into the poor guy's head.
Exactly as planned.
Poor goony …
Hey, occupational hazard …
With her primary threat momentarily disarmed, Harley swung from overhanging walkway to walkway until she dropped down on the closest car, the armored assault vehicle with grinning silver teeth instead of a grill. By the time the clown of crime finally managed to get his hands on another gun (or more bullets, she really wasn't paying that much attention), Harley was laughing ecstatically as she ran from car to car, dodging every single bullet fired in her direction. She even did a few cartwheels as she landed onto the ground.
She finally found the car she had been looking for, the Lamborghini that brought her there in the trunk, and she bashed the window in with the empty gun in her hands before she climbed inside.
Harley laughed when she looked inside.
Someone had left the keys in the ignition …
Like there was another car she would have picked?
Despite the order to close the doors and amount of bullets raining down on her, Harley didn't even wait for the car to completely warm up before she started revving the engine. She pushed the gas pedal to the floor and crashed directly through the doors. The steel bent like aluminum.
It made quite the large boom!
But it was … oh so satisfying.
After she drove over the bridge to the little island in the industrial section of the city, she realized they were attempting to raise it. She only hit the gas pedal harder.
Landing on the opposite side after the impromptu jump, she did a few spins before rear-ending the building on the mainland. The factory was on an island in the middle of the industrial bay. She was so dizzy when she fell out of the car to run over to the edge of the water.
The Joker, somehow finding clothes since she left him, was standing on the opposite side of the water with the most bloodthirsty look she'd ever seen.
It sent shivers up her spine.
Harley gave him the sweetest smile she could as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and waved at him.
She then pulled out the small detonator from her belt and pressed the shiny red button.
A large series of explosions went off in all the places she had hidden during her little exodus.
The clown and all his goons—at least the ones left—were left to stand there next to the building as a section went up in flames, just next to them.
Debris came down and fell onto the goon next to the Joker, and he only blinked at it before looking back to Harley.
His expression was priceless.
However, Harley took this time to start jumping up and down and dancing with delight.
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
She was having way too much fun.
Harley could not remember the last time she had that much fun.
As she did a few victory moves, she could see all the men present watching her with a mix of horror and perplexion.
A random goon said something, that she didn't hear, but she then saw the Joker not even bother to look up as he shot him in the head.
Harley only clapped in enjoyment at this. Realizing that the small group was too far away for bullets to reach, so she did the only logical thing she could think of.
She shouted a thank you for the lovely time before blowing the clown a kiss.
She didn't wait to see the look on his face as climbed back into the car and drove away. Making sure to put as many dings into the paint as she whipped around the corners, she blared the radio as she made the tires screech all over the roads, sucking on her lollipop with delight.
Now, what to do next …
You were heading to out to pick something up at the store …
Oh yeah.
A few maimed police officers, a pair of dead bikers, box of fireworks, a can of kerosene, a book of matches, a stuffed lion and a tube of lipstick later …
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"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." ― Elbert Hubbard
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Ring. Ring. Ring. Rin—!
Click.
"Hi there!"
Pause.
"I'm looking for Cat—who's this?"
Pause.
"Not Cat."
"Hm … oh! Leni?! Is that you?"
"... Aunt Harley?"
Squeal.
"It is you, isn't it?"
Groan.
"… who else would answer this phone?"
"I knew it! How's it been?"
"I'm fine."
Long pause.
"So … where's Cat?"
Longer pause.
"Busy."
"You know, she's been busy a while—"
"I'm aware. What do you need, Aunt Harley?"
Nervous laugh.
" … I may need a ride."
Pause.
"Ivy can't come?"
Pout.
"I already tried Ivy … I even said please … I didn't get an answer ..."
Longer pause.
"Does this have anything to do with why you've been missing for the last few days?"
" … who says I was missing?"
"Ms. Big-Shot called."
Squeak!
Pause.
"Oh … what did she want?"
Sigh.
"Well, she wanted what you neglected to steal from that vault the other day."
"Shit—I'm in big trouble …"
"No, I took care of it."
"Really? All by your lonesome?"
Groan.
"Are you going to give me an address? Where are you? And you're welcome, by the way."
"Oh, you're coming for me?"
"I told you, Cat's busy. You're just going to have to deal with me."
Giggle.
"Oh, you are just too much. Has anyone ever told you how awesome you are?"
Sigh.
"The address?"
"Oh yeah … just follow the sirens."
Groan.
"Who's supposed to be the adult here?"
"Well, certainly not me …"
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Oh, and Leni?"
Silence.
"Could you stop and pick me up a me a few things on your way?"
"Like what?"
"A change of clothes, my special makeup kit and … Wait, scratch that—actually if you can just find Monty. Tell him I sent you to pick up the car. You did pass your driver's test, right?"
Pause.
"… do I even want to know? And yes, I passed that a year ago. You asked me that the last time I came to get you."
"Oh, I did? But that's great! Oh—you also might wanna wear your "riding clothes" if you know what I mean, honey."
Long pause.
"… we're getting rid of another body, aren't we?"
Anxious laugh.
"No! Never …! Well, that last time I didn't plan on hurting that guy … he was just so handsy … I already got rid of the bodies this time! I just need a ride, I promise. But … "
"There it is—But what?"
"Now that you mention it, I could use a little help … with something …"
"And that would be?"
"You don't even have to break the law—I just need you to pick up something from the store. You don't even need to be an adult to get one … at least, last time I checked you didn't …"
"Why do I have a nagging feeling this is going to be bad on my end?"
"Please Leni? I'll buy you another motorcycle …"
Chuckle.
"You mean in addition to the other five you gave me?"
"Oh, that's right—want a car instead?"
Pause.
" … I promise we'll get smoothies afterwards."
Silence.
"Wow, tough crowd …"
"I'll settle for what it is that I'm getting before I answer."
"Okay, okay …"
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"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." – Bernard M. Baruch
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Harley placed her hands on her hips with a smile.
"You didn't wear your outfit!" the blonde teased.
The girl in front of her did not look thrilled, not in anyway.
As the teenager got out of the little red sportscar, it was hard to tell that she was only seventeen years old. Less than a year until she was legally an adult, and she already had the look of someone three times her age. Her stoic expression was marred by the perpetual scowl that she held in her eyes. It was clear that she was not happy about being in a dank ally at daybreak.
The only thing that indicated her age was her choice in wardrobe.
Her black leather booties were clunky, although they made little to no noise as she walked very gracefully. She was already tall for her age, and the height of the heels made it even better. Her long shapely legs were adorned with opaque black stockings that had a pattern towards the top that gave the illusion they were attached with a garterbelt. Her tight, purple suede skater skirt was positioned around her waist, that had always been too tight and shapely for someone her age.
From beneath the shorter leather motorcycle jacket, a high necked velvet crop top covered her less than modest chest, but was probably sleeveless underneath. Her purple satin choker was adorned with a black "H" and only made her neck look longer. Her pale skin was even paler with the depravation of sunlight, and the addition of bold plum lipstick and black eyeliner. Her long black curls fell over her shoulders in a thick veil, the entire ensemble completed with a newspaper hat to match her skirt in color.
Well, she was always the snazzy dresser …
As she closed the driver's door, she pulled out a duffle bag and put it over her shoulder. She was much too lightly dressed for the weather, her skirt barely covering what was necessary. The girl was cautiously scanning the environment for dangers.
Smart cookie …
Shuffling over to Harley, the girl looked over the woman who was standing in the middle of the dark alley, brow wrinkling at Harley's half-naked form with concern.
"Where are your clothes?" was the first thing she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, wrapping her leather jacket around herself closer.
Although the girl was obviously cold, as the early spring morning still made her breath somewhat visible, it seemed that the blonde in front of her was perfectly content.
Harley beamed and extended her arms wide. "Leni!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the girl in a big hug. She held on for a few seconds and rocked her back and forth. Although there was no response from the girl to hug, Harley gave her an additional squeeze before releasing her. "Look at you! Where's your riding outfit?"
The teenager gave her a knowing glare. The "riding outfit" she was referring to included a leather jumpsuit and mask. "You said I wouldn't be doing anything illegal," she muttered.
"And you won't," Harley assured. "I just need a ride."
The teenager gave Harley the duffle bag. "Here."
The blonde squealed with delight when she opened the bag and there was a fresh set of clothes inside. Harley didn't even bother to wait before she pulled out the underwear to slip into. Although they were in a dark alley, they were also in one of the most abandoned sections of town. The brunette girl in front of her turned away to give the older woman a small amount of privacy, although she offered no indication that she was surprised at the blonde's actions.
It was Harley Quinn, after all.
As she took off the butchered pajama shirt she had stolen, Harley quickly dressed herself in a simple pair of black panties and a bra. She wasn't too worried about thrills at the moment. As she slipped the stockings over her feet, she was more worried about the marks all over her legs. The red bodycon skirt came up to her waist, only leaving a small amount of skin where the blue croptop took over. Over the entire thing, she slipped a leather dress coat, making sure to fasten it before she slipped into the black pumps and pull her hair back with without a bow.
Harley felt eyes on her as she pulled her hair back. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" her ride asked, leaning her backside against the hood to almost sit on it.
She had the tone that she already knew.
Knowing her, she does …
Smiling, Harley pulled out a compact mirror from the duffle as she checked her make up. "Who says anything happened?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "We're playing that game? Really, Aunt Harley?"
Harley remained quiet as she started putting makeup on her eyes. "No games today, sweetie …" she said, not looking away from the mirror.
At least not with her …
"I just need a ride home," Harley started.
The girl's shoulders shook with her heavy sigh. "Okay, that's it," she exclaimed, going over to the car. She pulled a bag out of the back seat, and from it she took out her phone. As she pressed buttons on the screen, she came over before handing it to the blonde in front of her. "I know you're in trouble. Explain this."
Harley took the devise from her, and saw a video playing on the screen. It was a black and white security camera footage, and it was of her.
She was standing on a bank counter, her two babies besides her growling at a crowd.
Oh shit.
Thankfully, it was impossible to make out the man she was fighting with from this footage. The only thing saving her from trouble was the anonymity of her attacker.
"Where did you get this?" Harley asked almost seriously.
The girl in front of her cocked her head to the side. "The bank," she answered, both of them knowing which bank they were talking about. "You were lucky that I got a hold of it before the police got there."
Harley watched the images of the past play in front of her. She was grim as she watched the way she started flipping around the room.
"So you got what she wanted?" she asked, changing the subject.
Back to business. There had been a reason Harley had gone to the bank that morning; she had been sent. Her oh so generous "handler" kept her on a shorter leash than she first proposed.
Harley gave the phone back.
The girl nodded in response to the question. "Yeah, dropped it off really quickly. I've been covering for Cat resently," she said as she took the phone back. "Miss Big-Shot doesn't even know it was me—I did it as Cat."
Harley closed her eyes for a moment and sighed internally. Cat had been "busy" for quite a while. It made Harley wonder what was wrong with Cat, but also concerned for the girl in front of her that referred to her as an aunt. The girl was a sufficient substitute for Cat, but she wasn't even an adult yet.
Besides, there was really no substitute for the original.
"Good," Harley beamed, never showing a sign of worry. She put the mirror back in the bag and picked it up. She began to move for the car, but she was stopped by the figure in front of her blocking her path. Harley looked at her with an innocent smile. "Yeah?"
The brunette teenager held up her hand. "I'm not taking you anywhere until you give me an explanation," she insisted, sounding like a scolding parent. "Where were you the last few days?"
Harley looked up innocently. "No where …"
The response was a scowl. "Well, you certainly weren't home," she responded. Harley attempted to look surprised, but then she continued. "Monty told me what happened."
Oh crap.
"He did?"
"Yes he did. He also told me who happened."
She fiddled with her phone, pulling up another video. This one was of a woman news caster, standing next to the Gotham bay. Although she looked out of place on the cold docks, she was happily pointing out the car that was being fished out of the bay by the nearby crane. The purple metal had been charred and flamebroiled.
Harley knew, since she had the luxury of doing it.
Oh, that had been so much fun …
It had only been filmed maybe moments ago, the first rays of light over the horizon. "Aunt Harley, what did he do?" the girl demanded.
Harley only smiled. "He who?"
Another eye roll. "He who? The Joker! The guy who dragged you off the other day—or did you just forget that part?"
Yeah, we're in trouble …
"The Joker is seriously trouble, Harley," the girl warned, concern in her voice. "Don't get me wrong, putting the bikers in the car was a good cover, and they'll never trace it back to you."
"Oh you think?"
"That's not the point, Harls. What did he do to you, the Joker? He drags you off from the bank, and you're gone for almost five days! Now you show up like nothing happened, and the car that kidnapped you is in the river!"
This really was looking worse and worse.
"What … happened?" was the next demand.
Harley took in a sigh. "Well, you know, just a few negotiations …"
"Harley!"
The blonde laughed nervously. "Yes?"
"The girls at the club are chomping at the bit, and your boys are turning the city around looking for you!" the teenager scolded. "The least you can do is give me an honest answer. Did he hurt you or not? If you don't tell me, I'm going to tell both Cat and Ivy about this."
Crap. She really didn't need them knowing about this little episode.
Harley sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay …" she started. "I'll tell you the truth, but not here, okay?"
The girl nodded. "Good," she replied, digging around in her bag some more. "Because do you have any idea how much you get stared at when you get one of these? I swear, this little old lady looked like she was going to drag be off to the side and beat me." She took out a small package to hand it to Harley. It was the size of a crackerjack box, and wrapped in a paper bag. "And I got you more than one, so you'd better be grateful."
Harley beamed a smile and hugged her again. "You are such a good girl, Leni."
The teenager brushed her off. "Yeah, yeah," shrugging out of the hug. She'd never been much of a hugger. "Someone has to be the adult."
Harley stuffed the package into her bag, giggling playfully. "But you're so good at it …"
Looking her in the eye, the teenager became serious. "Now, I need you to answer this question honestly. Are you going to use that for its intended purpose?"
Shit.
Crap.
Damn.
F**k!
How was she supposed to answer that? There was no way she could lie. He girl in front of her always knew when someone was lying; it was her superpower.
Harley paused, and only smiled while biting her lip. "Yes … ?"
Wide-eyed, there was a moment of silence. It almost looked like the younger girl had swallowed her tongue. Up until that point, Harley had just been happy that the younger girl did not ask questions, seeing as she had asked her to do more dangerous and deadly things than that. It made sense now that the girl thought Harley may have some weird alternate reason for the item she purchased.
But this was not something Harley's ride home was prepared for.
"Yes?" she echoed. "What do you mean, yes? The most notorious criminal kidnaps you for five days, and now you tell me that you need a pre—oh my God! You … did … not!"
Harley could feel her cheeks burning, as she laughed nervously. "I … did …"
Putting her hands to her face, the brunette rubbed her eyes. "Oh no, oh no …" she muttered. "Not you too …"
Too?
Someone else had been having sex with the Joker for five days?
You mean, besides us?
"And of all people, really?" the teenager begged incredulously. "Couldn't you have picked someone a little less …?"
Steamy?
Smexy?
"Psychopathic?" the girl finished. "Don't you have enough to deal with with all those people already in your head?"
Harley shrugged. "They aren't that bad …"
The teenager took Harley by the shoulders to look her in the eye. "Please, Aunt Harley, be honest with me—did the Joker knock you up?"
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(Author's Note: There is a specific reason for this new character I introduced. There is also a reason I didn't give you her full name or identity. She is going to be important to this story. She is also not an original character. I gave plenty of hints about who she is, and with time her name and origins will be revealed.
I also mentioned two other characters that are going to show up, if not within the next chapter, the chapter after. Their identities are a little less surprising. What is Harley Quinn without her two besties, her fellow Sirens? Both Poison Ivy and Catwoman are going to have essential parts in the story too, not just window dressing.
And as for our unnamed character above, I may give spoilers to anyone who can guess her identity; say ... the answer to that last question I left hanging ... eh eh eh.)
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