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Warnings:
There is a reason this story has the rating it does.
Graphic content ahead.
Proceed with caution.
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Chapter Seven
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"Fear can be a potent aphrodisiac."― Kele Moon, Beyond Eden
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Harley felt every hair on her body stand on end.
The hot, ragged breaths against her neck made moisture cling to her skin.
Whispered curses fell from Harley's mouth as she wrestled with the padded cuffs around her wrists. Hoisted up above her head, the blonde craned her neck in order to look up to them. She hated how the pose left her so exposed, forcing her breasts forward in such an awkward way. Even if she tried to sit up, the weight against her thighs only assisted in keeping her pinned.
Nails dug into her upper thighs to the point of drawing blood, attached to the figure hovering above her.
How the hell did she wind up like this?
You forgot to pay attention, remember … ?
Before Harley answered herself, another presence came into focus. A firm hand gripped her chin and pulled her head down, steely eyes locking with her own.
The guttural pants heated her lips. "You know, Harley dearest …" purred the harsh tone of the voice behind the crimson lips hovering inches from her mouth. "We seem to have a problem …"
The sound caused her to squirm violently, the muscle inside her belly defining her as female clasping down tightly. As much as she hated the truly primal breathing against her skin, the heat inside continued to rise. Heart racing, Harley felt her own skin tingle as perspiration formed.
She did not want this; she did not like it.
Then why did it feel so good?
Pelvis bones pushed against her own, immobilizing her lower body. The sheer weight of the body on top of her own limited all her other movement. Combined with the pair of arms like vice grips on her sides, realization slowly dawned on Harley.
She could not escape this.
Defiantly, she raised her chin and broke out the smuggest grin she could muster. "Problem?" she chimed back.
The beast that flared behind those eyes made her tremble.
Oooo … you pissed off Mistah Jay …
Inwardly, Harley grinned at her the voices in her mind.
Good.
She wanted him angry.
Shaking his head, the clown of crime tisked at her ever so slowly. "Shouldn't have done that, babydoll," he whispered as one of those vice grips came back up to grasp her neck. "Lie to me."
She took in his appearance; everything from the stark green of his hair to the bright red of his lips. The awkward "J" beneath his eye danced before her eyes.
Harley felt the urge to lick it.
Cocking her head to the side, she bared her teeth with her smile. "Oh, did I?"
His grip on her leg intensified. "Yes you did," he growled.
In a split second, the Joker pulled away from her and she felt fingers crawling up her abdomen. As if to tease her, they lingered right above the pool hot liquid forming in her belly before reaching their destination. That destination happened to be the clasp holding together the flimsy fabric called a brassiere.
Harley felt a tightening hardness, a painful pleasure pressing against the fishnet barrier holding back the mounds of flesh accenting her gender. Her body practically pushed those erect nubs towards his fingers.
Damn it.
Harley put her proverbial foot down.
She gritted her teeth as she closed her eyes.
She refused to back down.
However, after opening her eyes once more, she saw the sickening elation replacing that angry beast from earlier.
"Shall I teach you how to be honest?"
She only smiled. "Do your best."
His head closed in on hers with a snap. "Always, baby girl, always."
This … is gonna be so much fun!
Shut the hell up!
How did we get here, again?
Oh, don't you remember … ?
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"The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you." ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
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Some time earlier …
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A distinctive chill ran up Harley's arm.
Harley looked at the blue-haired man in front of her with caution.
Barely touching the hand of the man in front of her caused an instantaneous freezing bite against her skin. Harley wanted to pull her hand away as soon as it happened, but she refrained. The cold caused her to jump, even if it was ever so slightly. She realized this man could tell the exchange unsettled her. However, something inside her compelled Harley to hold on for another few brief seconds.
Something inside told her it was the right decision.
Mr. Freeze gripped her hand gently, shook it politely and pulled away. As soon as he did, Harley saw the ice crystals that materialized onto her palm. The dampness of melting quickly followed, being in such proximity to her body's heat, but Harley pulled her hand to her side to wipe it off onto her clothing anyway.
It hurt.
How the hell does Ivy even touch him?
Let alone … you know, there …?
Harley put on an affectionately polite smile herself. First impressions were key with villain relations, especially for her. Her appearance was not in her favor; she would have at least gotten dressed should she have known he would be there.
And on that note, Harley remembered something important.
How the hell did he get in here?
Before she could ask, Harley noticed Mr. Freeze looking over her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Quinn, did you say?" he asked.
Harley's brow wrinkled. "Yes," she responded, as though it was obvious. "Harley Quinn."
He cocked his head to the side. "Are you the fashion designer, or the psychiatrist?" he countered.
He knows about me and Cat …
Hm, smart … No wonder Ivy slept with him …
I wonder how much Ivy has told him …
The blonde smiled maniacally. "I'm pretty sure you know the answer already …" she nearly sang.
A smile cracked onto his icy stoic mask. "The psychiatrist then," he determined. He looked her in the eye for several seconds. "What an interesting theme for yourself."
Harley paused.
Every instinct in her body told her to be cautious.
This was Victor Fries, aka Mr. Freeze.
Harley knew him and his history, the information from his file still logged into her mind's memory. The man before her was a brilliant scientist that transcended all expectations in the few short years of his life. His intelligence broke through to the world as he graduated from a distinguished university at age twelve, going onto his doctorate in cryogenics before he reached the age of eighteen. In the present, if Harley's memory was correct, this man was younger than the blonde herself. Before reaching twenty, he became legendary in the academic field for his research into preservation of mammals in ice.
However, everything changed after his life's work backfired upon him and transformed him into the creature that stood before Harley.
Of course, he had help with that …
His entire physiological structure had been forever altered, making him into a walking iceman. Not only did he require cold to survive, he generated it with every movement. She was certain that the metal exoskeleton that he wore was his own invention; made to moderate his body temperature.
Flora needs cold … Freeze needs cold …
How did we not guess it was him before?
Cause we've been a little preoccupied …
Harley did not recall actually ever speaking to him face-to-face, as Harley or Harleen. That uncertainty laid behind her caution. Freeze had been an interesting patient—obedient and nonviolent yet completely defiant of the law.
He had killed the man responsible for forever altering his body's composition, and then turned himself in willingly in exchange for a lesser sentence. Because of his nature, he had a special section in the hospital. Sadly, Harley knew for certain that she was responsible for his escape during her "rebirth". He was too smart to sit still while a riot was going on.
Himself, and quite a few other criminals …
Namely a Mistah Jay …
Ya think they ever met?
Yeah right … like that's possible.
And because of his nonviolence, the hospital's security categorized Freeze as a lesser threat. Most of the time, Freeze was left alone. Harleen had been kept from the area where he was housed, but that did not mean he was entirely ignorant of her presence. He could very well have seen Dr. Quinzel in passing.
If he recognized her, that was the question.
Harley smiled maniacally at his statement. "Thank you," she responded genuinely. "I've always been a fan of yours. You leave absolutely no evidence behind with your work."
His eyebrow went up, clearly amused.
Good, put him at ease …
Divert any and all attention from Arkham …
For some reason, Harley instantly liked him. Maybe it was his presence; he was straightforward and hid nothing. A criminal yes, but an honest one.
"I do my best," he replied half sarcastically.
In another second, the tiny life form in his grasp became active. There was no way Harley could forget the sole source of her caution for this man. The green-skinned infant began to squirm, and Harley realized the baby had finally awoken.
The man holding her looked down, his eyes on her. "Sh," he soothed to her softly, rocking slightly. "It's okay, little girl."
Inwardly, Harley smiled. If he was this gentle with Flora, he could not be that bad.
The iceman remained distracted by the infant, his eyes aglow as he smiled at her. Now awake, she held all his attention. He moved his own head as she looked around, attempting to look her in the eye.
"She looks like my mother," he stated absently. He reached a hand up, delicately tracing the birthmark right under Flora's right eye with his metal-tipped thumb. The movement made Harley tense, but he left absolutely no mark. Flora did not even flinch. His gentleness was incredibly controlled. "She had this too."
Harley blinked at the display in front of her.
Is … this the first time he's seen her?
But … he's not surprised. He must have known she existed.
Flora reached her little fingers towards him, pudgy digits grasping the metal that lined Freeze's grinning face. She managed to enchant him with her wide-eyed expression as she touched him so willingly, noisily panting with parted blue lips. Flora held no fear for this man.
Did she know he was her father?
Harley was half convinced that she did.
When Freeze looked back to the blonde, Harley remembered where she was. "She's younger than him?" he asked, nodding towards Harley.
Harley glanced down to the baby in her own arms. Damian could not be forgotten either. His safety equaled Flora's own. Only the black-haired little boy seemed more interested in teething on Harley's hair, and Harley reached down to pull the strands from his mouth. If he got sick off of her shampoo, his mother would kill her.
They leave you alone with the kids for a couple hours, Harley, and this happens …
Nice going …
Readjusting the infant on her hip, Harley paused before answering him. It may not have been the best idea to tell Freeze the identity of Damian's father. She wondered if she could avoid that. But telling Freeze that Damian was Cat's son might not have been best either; Cat's fling with the infamous big man in black was notorious even among Gotham's villain class.
But what was Harley supposed to tell him instead? He must know this other baby did not belong to Ivy; their ages were to close together. How would Harley explain his presence?
"Yes," Harley finally replied, before she could figure out an answer to her question. Too long of a silence created trouble. "He was born in August—Flora was born in late December."
Neutral enough.
Withholding specifics is actually a good idea …
He blinked. "Flora …" he mused, looking down to the baby again. "It suits her."
Harley could not contain her shocked expression.
Freeze did not know Flora's name until that very moment.
He didn't know his own child's name?
So, he didn't know how old she was either …
He didn't care about Damian's age … he wanted to know hers …
A strange thought crossed her mind.
Would you have done that? To Mistah Jay?
"Florentia, actually," Harley clarified, pushing her own thoughts away. She wanted to avoid answering that question for as long as possible. "Florentia Vi—" Harley cut herself off when realization dawned on her.
"Florentia Victoria," came another voice.
Harley instantly turned around.
The villainess known as Poison Ivy made her entrance silently, able to sneak up on the party without either of them noticing.
Her green eyes nearly aflame, a burning anger contained behind her stoic mask. Jaw clenched tightly, fists clenched by her sides, she stood astute as she stared at them.
Oooo … she pulled out all the stops today …
Clearly dressed for business, Ivy donned a pair of suede leggings that laced up the sides of her legs, the wide gap letting others know she wore nothing underneath. The sheer long-sleeved peasant top that hung around her shoulders was so flimsy it barely held her breasts in place, the bottom hem fanning out at her behind with a feminine row of ruffles. The piece of cloth was held up with only the tight leather and metal corset that was laced up her waist, barely covering her modesty with the straps around her shoulders that made her stance even more astute.
As she walked forward, her widened hips swayed back and forth, her knee high boots clipping against the floor with emphasis. Her magenta curls bounced from underneath the goggles fastened to her head like a headband, the locks streaming down over her shoulders as she walked. She drew attention to her movements as she peeled off her chocolate leather gloves and threw them on the floor with a snap.
The anger radiated off her more intensely, becoming even more apparent as she came closer to Harley.
However, the redhead did not look at her friend, her eyes focused on the other member of the party.
Harley looked back at Freeze. His eyes held Ivy's intense stare.
The pair locked eyes for several seconds. Whereas Ivy's glare was enraged, Freeze gaze was … oddly delighted.
This man transformed when he realized Ivy was in the room.
The small glint within his eyes revealed an obvious joy as soon as he realized Ivy arrived. His stoic mask twitched into a smile, completely disregarding the anger Ivy gave him. He saw her fury, but did not care.
Ivy's heels clacked distinctively as she came to a halt right next to Harley. "Victor," she bit out.
A pungent paused filled the space for several seconds.
"Pamela," Freeze countered, voice smooth and soothing.
Harley bit her lip.
First name basis, eh?
The tension made Harley incredibly uncomfortable to keep standing there.
Ivy was angry, Freeze was just happy to see her.
Huh?
For a few moments the two stared at one another, eyes locked. Then, without looking away from the man in front of her, the redhead leaned her head towards the blonde standing next to her. "Harley," she said, voice sweeter towards her friend. "Please take Flora upstairs."
Harley glanced from Ivy to Freeze, cautiously moving forward.
When Harley reached for the baby, he did not protest. In fact, Freeze handed her over willingly. Carefully, he placed Flora in Harley's free arm, resting her head on her shoulder. Damian squirmed, but did not protest to being held with one arm.
Freeze's hand lingered on the child before he released her, hesitant to stop touching her.
Harley noticed a pang of hurt in his eyes.
He loves Flora.
Even if he had only learned her name a few seconds ago, he loved this baby. Flora was his child, and he cared for her deeply. Harley could tell without even asking. And from the way Freeze looked at the child's mother, Harley detected affection for the redhead as well.
What the hell happened between these two?
Harley found herself confused. Showing emotion was dangerous in this profession, yet Freeze revealed it willingly. He was confident enough with his emotions not to be afraid of the consequences of his actions. Either that, or he just did not care.
As Harley tiptoed out of the enclosure, she felt reluctance to part the father and baby.
Why can't we just let Flora's daddy hold her?
Ivy is our friend … she has a reason …
Ivy stopped Harley before she left. With a hand on her shoulder, Ivy simply shook her head. Harley instantly understood without any vocal confirmation. Ivy's instructions were clear; Harley was not to interrupt at any point.
Although she did not want to, Harley nodded in agreement. She would not interfere.
Well, only circumstantially …
Harley heard nothing as she left the scene, the vines enclosing the space as soon as she stepped out. However, Harley knew from experience that words would be exchanged as soon as she was out of earshot.
Taking off in a split second after she left her friend, Harley raced up the stairs so fast she almost tripped. She slowed down remembering the cargo in her arms, but still maintained a quickened pace. Climbing up the series of balconies and catwalks overlooking the enclosure below, she kept her ears open as she placed Damian in his playpen. After giving him a pacifier and a toy, she laid Flora down in her special cradle that made sure to keep her cool. A flip of a switch on the device in the corner raised the wrought-iron gate to close them inside, vines materializing around it for reinforcement.
Knowing the children were safe from harm, Harley turned straight around and bolted down the catwalk. Curiosity and concern fueling her movements, Harley raced over the metal grates, making sure to move as quietly as possible.
Ivy instructed Harley not to interfere, but that did not mean Harley could not watch. Eavesdropping was not her motivation, but she did not want Ivy to be alone.
There had to be a reason Ivy kept her baby from its father.
Especially one as nice as him …
With only seconds to spare, Harley jumped from platform to platform, skipping over the stairs to speed along her movements. Finally landing on the ground, she found herself in the small space Ivy loaned to her for her use while she stayed in the greenhouse. Pulling out the duffel bag from under the bed, she overturned it onto the overly floral mattress. The colorful pieces of cloth that tumbled out contained an array of patterns and fabrics, but Harley used a few factors to make her selection.
Cat had the tendency to get carried away with her designs; usually she leaned towards flashiness and femininity over usefulness.
She pulled on sturdier, albeit more flashy, underwear as she changed her clothes. Fishnet may not be the more practical selection, but it was much more useful than the piles of frills Harley passed over.
Harley grinned when she saw the tiny red diamonds on the behind of the tiny black denim shorts that she pulled on over her fishnet stockings.
Cat thinks of everything …
After pulling on long boot socks, she attached them to the frayed hemline of her shorts. After wrapping the sporty red halter around her breasts, she pulled on a loose white mesh crop top, the fabric revealing more than it covered. Its overstretched neckline and armholes showed absolutely everything underneath, and barely stayed on her figure. However, a pair of flashy red and black diamond-patterned suspenders held her entire outfit in place.
She only paused to pull on her black and red combat boots before loading her guns with a click. She refused to wear heels today.
Guns with this outfit, really?
This is supposed to be "Boxer Harley" …
Hey, I ain't messing around with this guy!
Placing the flashy gold pistols into the holsters under her arms, Harley began heading back to her friend before she was even finished changing. Pulling fingerless leather gloves over her hands, she grabbed a belt of bullets while slipping through the doorway.
The last thing she did after fastening the belt around her hips was smear lipstick and eyeshadow on her face, not being as delicate as normal. However, she found that she liked the uncleanness.
It made her look even more unpredictable.
Harley neglected her hair as she ran back to the scene, knowing that her loose pigtails were hopeless at that point. The relaxed look suited the rest of the outfit anyway. She climbed back up to the catwalk, pulling herself up with a flip before taking a look around. She bolted back from where she came, and used her arms to anchor her as she stampeded around the corners.
Okay … what's the plan?
We get back to Ivy and beat the crap out of Freeze.
Why?
I … don't know …
Bad idea … we like Freeze, remember?
Oh yeah … what are we gonna do about Leni?
What about Leni?
You gonna go help her?
Yeah, she's over there … it looks like she's bleeding …
What?!
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"It is not part of a true culture to tame tigers, any more than it is to make sheep ferocious." – Henry David Thoreau
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Earlier that morning …
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Ring.
Click.
"LENI! You called!"
Sigh.
"Hey, Harley."
"Hello! It's so good to hear from you! How are you?"
Pause.
Grumble.
"Exhausted."
"Oh?"
"Let's just say, these past few days have been interesting."
"How so?"
Grumble.
"I don't want to talk about it. I called for another reason. Now Harley, I need you to be honest with me."
"Okay, sure!"
" … did you buy me a Bugatti?"
"Oooo … fancy. What makes you ask?"
"Because this delivery person just dropped off a brand new Bugatti and had me personally sign for the keys. I don't want to know how he found me ..."
"Did he sing, the delivery guy?"
Sigh.
" … yes—badly, I might add."
"Oh no, he said he had a good singing voice—I may have to dock his tip."
"His voice wasn't bad …"
"Okay, good! So, do you like it?"
Groan.
"Harley, this car is more expensive than my tuition. How the hell am I supposed to keep anyone from stealing it?"
"I made sure to include the luxury package—it will only recognize you!"
" … wonderful."
Giggle.
"Oh, Leni honey … can't you smile for me? I wanted to give you something for your birthday. You only turn eighteen once."
Pause.
Sigh.
"Is that what this is for?"
Laugh.
"Did someone forget her own birthday?"
Groan.
"No, I just didn't think anyone else remembered."
"Of course I remembered—Ivy pitched in for your present too. And I highly doubt Cat can ever forget that day …"
"Yeah, I know, I know … "
"Some jerk decided to cut open her belly and cut you out before leaving her for dead in an alley! That's not something you forget!"
Sigh.
"And you'd think she'd stop reproducing after that …"
"Still sore about that, huh?"
Silence.
"Don't be so mad—you have a baby brother! And he's so cute!"
"Damian's not the issue here. He can't even talk yet."
Pause.
"Hm … Did Cat tell you why? Why she won't let you see him—you know, your old man?"
"No. Do you know why she won't let me?"
"Not exactly. You know who he is, right?"
Groan.
"Hard not to. They're usually quiet, but I can still hear it when he comes by. Hard not to know it's him when he comes in through the top window of a sky-scraper."
"He visits her at home?"
"Yep, at night. At least he used to."
"Oooo … naughty Kitty-Cat."
Pause.
"Does … he know you exist? Your dad?"
"We met once—in plain clothes. He didn't know who I was, but I recognized him. Cat introduced me as her "relative". I don't think he knew I was living there. That was ... five years ago, I think."
"You'd be amazed what men don't notice—even the so-called world's best detective. Hm … but, he knows nothing about Damian?"
"Well, considering she hasn't let him in the apartment for over a year, I'd call that a yes."
Pause.
Longer pause.
"So … why do you think Cat won't tell him about you two?"
"I don't know—part of me doesn't even want him to know. The other part of me just wants Cat to be honest with me."
"What do you mean?"
Grumble.
"Okay, here it is; those two have had an off-and-on kind of thing. Does that make sense?"
"Well, with the way Cat is …"
"Exactly. But for a little while until before Damian was born, they were publicly dating—you know, not just screwing. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry … the whole deal."
"Really? Cat never said a thing … "
"You disappeared for quite a while Harley, remember?"
"Oh yeah …"
"Cat's become a big deal with her last few lines, you know. Her designs are very much in demand. She's been mostly just doing real work. And to be honest, this last week was the first time she suited up in a long time."
"Whoa! Cat not stealing? Is she sick?"
"I don't know. I'd hoped she was going relatively straight—as much as humanly possible while still working for you-know-who—"
"Touché."
"—so all the things she was doing would look good for him."
"You thought … she was changing herself to make herself better for him?"
"Yeah, she was bending over backwards for him. All of it was for him. He's apparently a big deal, right?"
"Uh … does all the legally earned money in Gotham make a big deal? Then, yeah … he's a big deal. He was hoity-toity when he was a kid too."
"Wait, you know … who he really is?"
"Yeah—did you not know that?"
"Did I not know that you knew?"
Pause.
"Wait, what?"
"Focus Aunt Harley—you know his real identity?"
"Yes, yes. I met him when I was … ten, I think. Yeah, I was ten."
"Ten? How old was he?"
"Well, Cat said he was a little more than a year younger than her …"
Groan.
"No wonder she didn't tell him about me."
"What do you mean?"
"How do you tell your billionaire boyfriend that you've been hiding his kid that he fathered when he was not even… what is it, fourteen?"
Giggle.
"Not even legal at that point … either of them, so I guess no law was broken."
"Harley!"
"I'm still here, calm down. You were getting to your point? About Cat cleaning herself up?"
Sigh.
"Yes. As I was saying, I think he was getting serious."
Pause.
"What kind of serious? Like a ring serious?"
"Yes, that kind of serious."
"Really?! Kitty-Cat almost got married? Oh, how fun! But what happened?"
"That's the tricky part. Cat did all this stuff to look good for him, and she never even gave him a chance to ask."
"How come?"
"Cat had this visitor—real shady guy. Cat was afraid of him. Next thing I know, she tells me to lay low and she's gone for about two weeks. When she comes back, she's a wreck for a week, and refuses to let you-know-who see her—I'm pretty sure they had a big fight. It was real quiet around here for a while. After that, I found her heaving her guts out when I came home one day. Without telling me, she took off and disappeared for a few more months."
"Wait, months?"
"Yeah, she didn't come back until after Damian was born."
"Didn't she even tell you where she was?"
"No. He didn't know either—was apparently looking all over the city for her, just like me. It was like she dropped off the face of the planet."
"Okay, so Cat disappeared. And she came back with Damian?"
"Yep. That was September. She's locked herself in the apartment since then. She never comes out. I don't think Damian's ever been outside … until the other day anyway. Now we have all those assassins nipping at our toes."
"About that … who were all those ninja people?"
"Cat won't tell me. All I know is that they're trouble. Now she's determined to keep Damian a secret from everybody. Things would be so much easier if she just told him—you know … my dad. God, that's hard to say. But he could really help. Do you know Cat won't even let me open the blinds or windows when I visit?"
"Wait a second … she's hiding Damian from your dad, and these other people?"
"It's either one or the other. And she won't tell me why—she won't tell me who they are either."
Pause.
"Hm … does she not tell your dad because she doesn't want him to know, or because she doesn't want the other people to know?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's only one reason to hide a baby from it's dad, kiddo—for its own protection. Well, except with your case—she thought he was dead at that point …and then afterward it was just really awkward."
"Your point?"
"What would he do if he knew about Damian? What do you think?"
Sigh.
"The only reason he didn't pop the question was because she's been avoiding him. I'm pretty sure he'd make her move in with him, with Damian of course."
"And that would be a big deal, wouldn't it? Someone as high profile as him with a secret love child? That won't remain a secret for long if they're both living there. News would travel fast—then who knows what would happen when that secret is exposed to the world?"
Pause.
"You're saying Cat did this because Damian's safer without him knowing? These guys are after a baby?"
"Well, probably not much safer anymore … those people we got rid of probably work for someone. They'll know something's up when they don't come back."
Tisk.
"Damnit … why didn't I realize Damian was the target all along …? So that's where Cat is … "
"Is she missing again?"
"She went off to look into something; you got as much of an explanation as I did."
"What about you? Where are you?"
"Laying low again—she told me not to go back to the apartment for a while."
"Did she say how long she'd be gone?"
Pause.
"Only a few days. Why?"
" … Cat's definition of a few days is usually about three. It's been more than five."
Silence.
"Um …"
"You think something's wrong?"
"I think you need to get over here as fast as possible. We probably need to move Damian."
Pause.
Grumble.
"What is it, Leni?"
"I … may have an idea."
"What do you mean? An idea about what?"
"You're gonna have to trust me; I just have to figure a few things out …"
"Like what?"
Chuckle.
"Remember when I said I was busy the last few days?"
"Kinda …"
"Well, I wasn't exactly studying."
"Huh?"
"Question—how do you get a guy to stop following you?"
Pause.
"You mean, besides beating the shit out of him? Well, I had sex with one ... that immobilize 'em pretty good."
Sigh.
"Beating the the crap out of him it is."
"Wait, who are you beating up?"
"Someone … extremely annoying, who happens to have bad taste in head gear."
"That doesn't tell me much …"
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"If the mountain won't go to Mohammed, Mohammed will go to the mountain." – Yiddish Saying
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Back to "Some time earlier" …
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Had Harley not been running around like a headless chicken, she probably would have noticed the indigo-clad girl crouched over the railing a little sooner.
Lilac eyes peered out from behind her signature pointed mask, this one compact against her skin to be worn under a helmet.
The sturdy, stretchy fabric that covered her limbs was a signature invention—complements of their favorite thief. Flexible enough to make into any shape, yet strong enough to deflect bullets, the teenager was practically covered with the stuff.
The bodysuit that encased her figure cut off at the top of her hips, designed for maneuverability. The piece could be mistaken for a bathing suit in normal circumstances. However, the presence of a rather flashy strap-encased utility belt around her hips and a long thick cape draped over her shoulders took that all away. The deep indigo that encased her body looked almost black in the dim light.
Wheezing as she gripped her rib-cage with her opposite arm, she used her free hand to hold herself in a standing position. The heels on her thigh-high boots were not high, but it took a lot out of her to remain on her feet. Normally the neckline on her outfit was more modest, but it seemed to be falling off, nearly compromising her modesty.
A trickle of red liquid emerged from her plum-colored lips. "Hey Harley," she laughed weakly.
"Leni!" Harley exclaimed, bolting to the creature she helped to raise.
Harley caught Helena as she fell onto the ground before she hit the ground too hard. Reduced to her knees, the only thing holding her up was the hand grasping the railing. As Harley held her, the teenager only chuckled as she winced, obviously in extreme pain. "Good to see you too," she bit out.
Instincts kicking in, Harley's attention went straight for Helena's side. The dark, damp stain pooling around her rib-cage grew as Harley attempted to look at her injury. "What happened? Who did this?"
Helena shook her head, free hand against the metal grate holding her upright—even if that was on her knees. "No one important—weren't aiming at me," she panted. "Minor setback."
"Minor setback?!" Harley exclaimed, pulling Helena to her feet, throwing her arm over her shoulder. "Is that a bullet wound?"
Harley gripped her around the waist as she began walking her through the greenhouse. Helena nodded. "Just grazed me—I already sewed it …"
As soon as Harley had a good grip on the girl, Harley felt her indigo curls fall over her own shoulder.
She passed out!
Oh shit!
No-no-no-no-no-no!
"Damn it, Leni," Harley winced as she caught the girl's limp form. "Do not die on me, you hear me?!" she hissed at her unconscious form.
Half carrying, half dragging the younger girl through the greenhouse, Harley finally managed to get Helena to one of Ivy's laboratories towards the front. This one lacked the pulsing test tubes, but still had an empty concrete slab of a table in the middle. Harley pulled the girl onto the table and immediately propped her head up with one of Ivy's spare lab coats. It definitely had enough frills to support her head.
Busting open the cabinet, Harley pulled out a few boxes of supplies. She hardly noticed the amount of things falling to the floor or the blood on her hands as she unclasped the belt around Helena's waist. Harley removed enough cloth to get a clear look at the wound.
Indeed, a few sutures were already in place.
Jagged and unclean, they managed to prevent the girl from bleeding out completely and get her butt back to her friends.
She did a good job …
As good as possible, anyway …
All things considering …
Injecting a solution to aid the blood clotting, Harley immediately stuck an intraveinous needle into the girl's arm to supply her with more of the life-supplying red fluid. All of their merry little group made the habit of regularly stocking their cabinents with their own blood—in cases such as this.
Never had to use Leni's before …
The wound's not that bad … we just can't tell Cat …
Yeah, like ever!
As soon as Harley had the teenager's vitals in place, she began to open and then reclose the wound properly this time. Harley found scorched flesh around the opening—a clear sign that a bullet burned its way to her bloostream. However, the hole was neither deep nor contained said bullet. Helena's conclusion of a graze was sound.
Harley knew her hands were rough and twitchy, completely out of practice in this area. The last time she sewed up flesh, it was on a cadaver. Only Harley's main concern surrounded the girl on the table, and making sure she stayed alive. Harley knew Cat would forgive her for a little roughness.
Before Harley finished, Helena twitched.
Without warning, the teenager bolted up to a sit, and Harley held her hands up to restrain her. "Whoa there!" she exclaimed. "Don't move, you've lost too much blood!"
Helena refused to lay back down, but did not move to a stand. "Harley, we need to move!" she suddenly exclaimed, worry in her eyes.
"No, you need to stay still," Harley insisted. "You're in no condition to go anywhere."
Harley finished her last stitch, but Helena prevented her from doing it properly. It would heal just fine, but might leave a nasty scar. Harley pushed her down again as she wrapped gause around the girl's waist, holding it down around the wound.
Helena took a hold of Harley's wrist firmly. "Harley—listen to me," she commanded. "We need to leave. Where's Ivy? We all need to get out of here!"
Harley's brow wrinkled. "What—?"
"I was followed!" Helena responded before she could get her whole question out.
Helena relaced her own clothing, pulling the stiff fabric tightly around her waist. The article held its wearer in place like vintage-styled undergarments with a girdle to hold everything in place in addition to offering protection. Although her hands shook and she let out a cry with her movements, she held a serious expression.
"They're coming," she gritted from a clenched jaw.
Harley had a sinking feeling in her gut. "They?"
At the sound of a few distinct thumps on the roof above them, Harley looked up to see several shadows scurrying across the ceiling.
Harley's eyes widened.
Shit.
The blonde looked back to Helena. "Who are they, Leni?"
Helena sighed, pulling herself back onto the floor with a sarcastic smile. "The bats do not like it when you take a bullet for someone they don't like … " she laughed to herself.
Harley gawked at the teenager like a carp fish. "You did what?!"
Bats?
As in, more than one?
Oh crap, that's the last thing we need!
A crunch and sickening thud came before an entire section of the ceiling instantaneously shattered.
Harley reacted out of instinct; she pulled Helena down onto the ground, placing herself on top of her in order to shield the girl. The large shards of glass rained down from the heavens, covering the entire expanse of the greenhouse. Shrieking filled the air, the vines covering the ceiling groaning as they were ripped apart by the figures that came crashing down from above.
Good thing we put the plants on high alert with the kids …
… thunk, thunk, thunk, THUNK!
The figures that landed on the various platforms around the room were of equally various size and shape, in addition to color.
Harley dared to look up after all the glass settled.
Firstly, Harley saw a flash of red, green and yellow adorning the smallest of figures that entered the building. His cape only came down a little above his knees, and his head was completely bare with the exception of the mask covering his eyes. His black hair spiked up around him in a modern style. A gleaming upper-case "R" emblazoned his uniform. Harley noted his young age, lining up with his small build and stature. This little sprite immediately jumped up to crouch on one of the railings and look around.
He's what … ten? How young is he recruiting these guys?
The next figure dropping down behind this boy wore a rather feminine color. Although covered completely in black, the deep purple accents were almost magenta in color. One would assume the feminine color clashed with the flaming orange hair falling out of the back of this girl's cowl. But the almost magenta bat covering the expanse of her chest only went with all the little colors along her sleeves and legs. The only female in the group actually wore a skirt under her floor-length cape, albeit with leggings underneath. Unlike the boy, her mask was completely attached to her face and featured a pair of pointy ears on the top. Her first action was to take a defensive stance and scan the territory behind her shorter companion.
She's no older than Leni …
Thirdly, the only figure without a cape jumped down and landed next to the new redhead. The bright blue design adorning his chest matched the female's in shape, and despite the fact that he stood at least a head taller than the girl, Harley noticed from the outline of his physique he had yet to be fully grown. His own short ebony locks fell into his face, but did not hide the blue-accented mask covering his upper face. He flipped down as he landed on his feet with a crouch, pulling a pair of electrified batons from his back.
Hey … isn't he supposed to be in Blüdhaven?
Harley's thought pattern cut off as the final figure dropped down with the loudest entrance.
So, that's Leni and Damian's daddy, hm?
The Dark Knight had a truly domineering and terrifying presence. Dressed entirely in black and deep, deep gray, his broad figure towered over his three protegees. The Bat stood hunching his shoulders forward to engulf his entire figure beneath the long flowing length of his cloak of a cape, face almost completely covered by the cowl that only showed the contours of his mouth. The extent of his shadow became even more menacing with the accent of his own set of pointy ears emerging from his cowl.
Damn.
Mysterious and sexy …
No wonder he makes Cat purr …
Harley stiffened from her position on the floor, clutching the girl in her arms. The two of them were a good distance away, and tucked into Ivy's lab there was little chance of this group seeing them—Ivy designed the space for such a task. The newcomers could not see the pair, however the danger was still quite evident.
"One, two … three? How many ankle-biters does your dad need?" Harley hissed into Helena's ear.
Slumped over on her good side, Helena raised her head, pushing back the indigo strands of her wig. "Apparently, not enough," she bit out, holding her side.
Did you see what they did to the ceiling … ?
Ivy's gonna kill us …
HxJ
JxH
HxJ
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HxJ
JxH
(Author's Note: Please, be gentle with me!
Last chapter, a few of you brought up my writing style. I attempted to improve it with this chapter. I originally planned to go back and revise every chapter after the story itself is completed. More or less, I consider my writing to be a living organism that adapts over time. But I wanted to get the entire essence of the story out before I tweaked the little details. I know they are important, but I guess I knew that I could go back and make revisions so I placed that aspect on the back-burner.
I gave you some Mr. J! Please take the consolation gift! Yes, it was not much, but I really tried to put him in this chapter a little more, it just didn't work out. The Joker has his own presence; I can't just drop him in any scene I want. You don't know how much I wrote for this chapter that I cut out or decided to reserve for later-more than twenty pages.
I even had a lot more Ivy and Freeze content (cause I know you all are dying to know what happened with them), but I cut it out when I realized it was a distraction from our protagonist; Harley. This is Harley's story, I need to focus on her and her actions.
But, yay! Bats have entered the building! Finally!
Yes, yes, I've been introducing a new character almost every chapter, and our cast is getting a little cluttered. I clustered these guys together because I thought it would be more appropriate for them to work as a group in Harley's mind. This time I added a grand total of four. I must admit that even I do not like it, but I assure you that I am doing it for a reason. Each character I selected has their own role, and are important to the story.
On that note, I have a question for all of you to get you thinking about the future; What do you think Helena was doing in her absence? I left a few hints in the story, but the devious side of me likes to leave you guys hanging so you'll come back for more. She did mention a guy. And she said she took a bullet for someone the bats don't like. I'll leave that for you to ponder.
Thank you once again for reading this story. I am so appreciative of all the feedback I receive, and I truly value your opinions. I cannot improve without constructive criticism.
Please review! I would like to hear what you liked about this chapter!)
HxJ
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