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Hidden 9 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Blissy
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Blissy ~ Princess Loony-Loon.

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Addiction was a hard thing to turn your back on, especially when you hardly knew you were addicted to something in the first place. The real question was what she felt more addicted to, whether it was the idea of wanting to love him, or wanting to hate him. Torn between anger and grief, was a nasty bit of chemistry for the former golden haired hench-wench of the clown prince of crime. Note the word former, given Harley Quinn, was far from the same woman most people remembered her to be. Well then again, that was probably at least half true..

Though Harley had changed, those changes hadn't been quite so obvious on the surface. She were still the wild crazy ball of fun loving menace that she had always been, without the second rate title. Oh no.. She was through with Joker! Especially after the last thing he tried to do! While Harley's feelings had come a long way, so too had her value among various criminal figures in Gotham. Right now she may very well have half of Gotham's scum trying to find her, take her for themselves, if it wasn't for the little teensie-weensie fact that the majority of Gotham's ruffians, had believed her to be long dead. Joker did something, a certain something quite a handful of other nefarious figures in Gotham weren't so happy with. In the process he had managed to finally discard the “extra weight” he was carrying. He called her that.. He left her to die! Tried to kill her!

Harley's anger for Joker was like wild fire, never serving to manage nor contain the fierce scorch of it's inferno. Even when she found herself hospitalized in a secret little location outside of Gotham, Harley never wavered her negative emotions about the man who had outright betrayed her. How many times had he thrown her face the mud? Hit her because to him it was fun? Push her undying love for him away.. all because he didn't know nothing about being gentle?! Harley couldn't even begin to recount the many times she had fell victim to what should have been her better, her protector, her mentor. Instead, she was his gimmick, his tool, a toy for him to play with and break further each and every time she tried to reason with him. Joker wasn't the same person she remembered him to be! But then again, that was probably because Harley had very bad memory, when it came to remembering why and how she had even fallen in love with the Joker in the first place.

Hating him from far away seemed like the easiest thing in the world, but just about every single time she found herself within a near inch of that clowny faced demon of a man, she couldn't help but feel so different. Whatever.. She was done with Joker! So much in fact that Harley had been devising a plan for the last little while in a way she might be able to finally show that. That wasn't the easy part, especially considering formulating plans and sticking to them, was never the crimson jesters forte. Going with the flow of things was always much more her style, even if the extent of her luck usually only ever lasted for so long. Oh well, everyone makes mistakes right? .... What you're doing is actual suicide Harley Quinn!

Ugh there she was again.. the damn docta lady.. always pestering her- Im here to help you! Quin tuned out of the lingering absence of her attention, at the sound of Harleen Quinzel's old voice oppose just about every ill rational or crazy thing she did. Even without Joker, that wasn't who Harley was anymore and going back to something that simple and innocent, just seemed like a damn shame. No, Harley Quinn had far too much work to do, before she could ever consider settling down and moving on. Especially because that felt near impossible when a certain Joker was still breathing alive and healthy somewhere.




Coming back to Gotham was, well, it felt right. From the very minute Harley had woken up in a hospital bed in timbuktu she knew there was something very wrong going on. Waking through all of that was fulfilling to say the least, given her being alive by this point had been somewhat of a miracle, never mind the amount of people that would want to change that if they found out. Being short of friends wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing in the world, but she'd manage, so long as she got what she wanted done. Harley had to be careful reentering Gotham, considering there were more then just the regular old crooks and goons at work, that may serve to undermine and destroy her. Gotham had always had other problems.

Thinking about Gotham's rogues send a certain shiver down Harley's spine. Last thing she heard, Bat-brain was going to punch his last clown, while Joker had anything but his last laugh. It felt near revolting to think she had felt amused in believing that fact, especially when she didn't know that cutting the old Bat out of Gotham's picture, involved throwing her under the rug as well. Joker got what he wanted no doubt, but Harley got nothing. Concluding to the idea of knowing this made her wonder. So who was out ruining the other criminal losa's of Gotham's fun? Bird-brain? Harley near crackled in a crude laughter at the idea of envisioning The Batman's sidekick trying to step in for him. The Dark Knight had always proven to be problematic, as much as he were mean, but his little side kicks were hardly on the same level of threat, then the who was bold enough to try and bring them along.

For a moment, Harley felt accomplished by the sick idea of knowing Joker had removed one of those side kicks some time ago, back when she were still wearing the one piece black and red jester grab, that she had made history with on Gotham. It only felt like just yesterday when she was..-! Ugh! No! Joker's had his last laugh!

Harley's spite for Joker came back into full swing, before she found her feet quietly peddling against the cement beneath her. Since she had returned to Gotham, Harley had kept a very low profile, so low, that few other players, besides a certain nameless know it all, didn't know she were even alive and well and hot on the hunt of a certain other clown. Riddler helped her out, only because she had been doing light favors for him, courtesy of him helping keep her off the radar. Maybe she had more friends then she knew-?! Seriously?! Riddle-creep?! Harley felt anything but represented by the idea of having to weasel her way around from place to place, doing favor's for another one of Gotham's problems. Like hell she'd ever get out of the inevitable edgy circle that was Gotham City and all the cynical shenanigans that took place within. Not like that was a problem...!

A light jitter of laughter sung from the perfection of her crimson painted lips, before Harley slipped elegantly into the narrow alleyway's made by the towering buildings of Old Gotham. Harley Quinn had much work to do and parties to crash, especially since Joker had been rude enough to forget to invite her.

Working off a tip wasn't exactly all that reassuring, but if she got to kill Joker's clowns and get more information about where and what he might be up to, then that would prove to be a satisfactory start to a much more fulfilling conquest of insane vengeance. Joker shoulda known better then to write me off so easily..! She'd refresh herself with the lucid idea of thinking herself to be far better at what she intended to do next, then she really were. You and what army Harley Quinn? You're going to go in there and those guys are going to tear you apart! Further protesting from the tiny little sane corner of Harley's old mind, served to try and vex her from the thought of getting cheap and easy bloody revenge by cutting down Joker's numbers one at a time. “I got you.. Don't I?" Harley would state, to, well, herself, because no one else was around to hear it. Or were they?

“Shhh! Go away, I don't need your input right now.” Harley beckoned out to herself in a much more quietened and careful tone of voice. She were trying to be sneaky, because if she weren't, that little sane proportion of her conscience would be more then right when it came to the inevitability of her fate. How hard could this be? Batfreak and his little friends did it all the time! Another adorable giggle of virtuous appeal crept from her lips, before she'd slap both hands to them and try and silence the gentle snickering of her laughter.

“Hey! You hear that? Sounded like someone laughing.” A much more rowdy rough voice declared from the other side of the very poor glass, that separated her from a handful of Joker's men. “No. I didn't hear anything, your crazy.. Paranoid the Bat's gonna show up? Didn't you hear, we don't got to worry about the bat no more.” Another much more creaky voice of one of Joker's other men, responded to the notice of the sound. “Since when does the Bat laugh? Sounded more like a girls laughter anyway..” The conversation went on, entering much more comedic and nonsensical theories. “Even if it were, you think the big bad Bat would laugh like a little girl? Are you serious?”

Was it bad to say that Harley felt twisted between a certain blend of amusement and disbelief, all at the same time, given the responses of these buffoons? These kind of conversations weren't really ever anything new to her, given she used to work with and even command a handful of her own faction of Joker's brutal influence on Gotham. Remembering all of that wasn't so pleasant.. Not like she'd have to remember these type of goons for much longer. It was time to go to work in cleaning up Gotham city, purely in Harley Quinn style.

Standing outside the small hide-out in front of her in empty silence, slowly motivated Harley to spice up the situation. She didn't exactly have a plan, but she did have several crazy ideas that weren't anything sort of making her feel motivated, as much as they did confident about what she were about to do. Reaching for a small red and black painted grenade with a “Harley Happy Face” painted on to it, she'd quietly pull the pin from the top and use her other hand to reach for the bat she carried on her back. GCPD had her signature mallet in some confidential lock-up, which meant new Harley had made some decent arrangement's in replacing the good old classical whammy-wham toy she used to use for wrecking things up.

Without a second thought Harley would pull the pin and pitch the grenade up in front of her and take a wild swing at the smiling compact sphere of explosive wonder. She hit that sucker did dead on, sending the grenade flying through the glass and into the room with a loud crashing of glass. The goons hesitated, some even shouted in frantic reaction, before the room was engulfed in a small radius of flying shrapnel and fire. Next the door came crashing down, the collision of Harley's boot, near causing the door to come swinging off the hinges. In she'd go, trusty bat in one hand, big nasty looking automatic rifle in the other. Leave it up to Harley Quinn to make an entrance Joker had taught her well.

“Miss me LOSA'S!? Then again, who wouldn't!?” She'd cheer, making her presence very known and very responsible for everything that had happened so far. Only at the time of walking through the front door, did Harley realize there was originally seven guys inside the main room. The grenade made easy work of two, but that still left five ready and eager to make this difficult for her. “Har-Harley?! I thought you were-?!” One of the goons spoke up, only to be interrupted. “DEAD?!” She'd question, pulling the trigger of the gun and easily cutting down another number that stood in her way. That left four. “Well I ain't dead, do I's look dead?!” Harley continued on in further adding resolve to the concept of people believing she was dead, up until one of the bigger guys in the room came charging at her.

She wasn't prepared for it, nor did she expect it and the hulk of man easily stampeded forward and knocked her from the door way of the room. She fell a short distance, until she tumbled on the ground, rolling over three or four times, before finally coming to a crumbled and dusty face down heap on the floor (losing her gun in process). That's when the muttering of her anger sung out, her agitation clean as day. Harley forced herself up slowly, to a light sit on her side, sprawling out a bit on the floor. Her eyes rolled in irritable response, to the idea of being turned into a pinball by yet again, someone associated with Joker. “That wasn't very nice.. Clearly some of us haven't changed..” She'd remark, feeling a bit mundane with the idea of knowing she'd probably never escape the inevitability of being thrown around by some crook, be it an important one,or not.

“I thought Joker killed you!?” One of the thugs questioned aloud. Harley could feel her patience steaming, her desire to continue this discussion any longer quickly phasing out. “WHY DO I ALWAYS GOT TO REPEAT MYSELF WITH YOU BOZA'S!?” She'd yell, before quickly spinning and flipping up in an acrobatic twirl. The group of men in front of her shunned any further curiosities they may have for her, each of them going to grab whatever melee weapons around them that they could find. “You don't order us around any more!” One yelled. “Im going to send you back to Joker in one sweet little piece, or broken and mangled as you should be!” Another one threatened. The odds were not looking up for Harley.

One came rushing forward, this time Harley was prepared for it. She'd pull the bat from her back, before taking a tight grip around the neck and swinging real hard at that idiots skull.
CRACK!

He went crashing down into the floor, no short of brain matter and other things left from the collision of the bat hitting his skull. Harley panted in tested endurance, her breath quickening, as she tried to juggle feeling excited and outnumbered all at once. Clearly she wasn't thinking all that straight, just angry thoughts instead. “You boys dun think I can't take the three of you's left alone? Oh please.. it'll be a pleasure.. No short of blowin ur brains out ONE AT A TIME! Then again, now that I really think about it.. Joka neva gave me half the credit I deserved.. SO COME ON! Lemme introduce you to the new and improved HARLEY QUINN!”

But could she really take these three alone? Not even a minute in and Harley couldn't help but wonder if the annoying Docter clamouring around in back of her head, may have actually made a good point..
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Barrett
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Barrett Oh, the year was 1778...

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Why is it that whenever Bruce goes missing, I put my whole life on hold to come and look after Gotham? I mean, it's not like I'm the only graduate of the Bat-Dad school of vigilante training. And Tim could surely take a few days out of his difficult schedule of staring like a sick puppy at Cassy? Or Jason could promise not to shoot any criminals for one week...

Dick Grayson, otherwise known as the costumed hero Nightwing, was perched on one of Gotham's many gargoyles and moaning internally. It might not be very productive but he found it was a good way of venting without hurting anyone's feelings. The truth was that he was glad to be back in Gotham, to smell the air and walk the streets. Or, technically, to walk far above the streets. He might've been raised in a circus but Dick was a Gotham boy, through and through.

Currently, he was watching a the entrance to a building from his elevated position. One of Bruce's many 'contacts' had told him that a couple of Joker's crew were holed up there and Dick had no better leads to chase than to run down as many of the clown's men as he could until one of them gave him a clue to their boss's whereabouts. The last sighting of Batman had been in the Joker's company but Bruce hadn't triggered a distress beacon, transmitted on any of their secret frequencies or made his position known in any way shape or form. So Dick was going to find the Joker in the hope that either Batman was with him or that the green haired maniac knew where he was. It was not, he had to admit, a perfect plan. But then it was Bruce and Tim who were the detectives, not him. Dick wasn't stupid but tracking down one of the planet's best hiders was probably a job for the world'd greatest detective. Ironic, that.

To his shame, Dick's musings had made his concentration shift for a few seconds. They were abruptly brought back to reality by the harsh crack of a frag grenade. Focussing on the entrance far below, he saw a figure smash through the door, catching nothing more than the the shape of a large gun. Damnit! This is Tim's fault somehow! Dick thought as he dropped from the gargoyle to the street far below. He allowed himself the pleasure of free fall for a few seconds before sharply pulling out of his dive with the assistance of a grapnel. He swung, twisted and flipped to land on the floor by the shattered window. He expected to hear the rough tones of one of Gotham's many street based criminals. Instead, it was a much more familiar voice.

"Joka neva gave me half the credit I deserved.. SO COME ON! Lemme introduce to the new and improved HARLEY QUINN!”

Internally, Dick groaned. It was just going to be one of those nights, wasn't it. Snatching his billy clubs from his back, he mentally rehearsed his opening line. "Is this a private fight or can anyone join?" was good, "Knock, Knock, who's there?" was a classic, "The vigilante union is going to have something to say about this, miss Quinzel" was funny but probably a big over the heads of the most of the room. Hmmm... No, he had it.

"I never could resist a distressing damsel" he quipped, leaping through the mostly empty window frame and appraising the situation. Harley seemed to have taken out some of the goons but now had three bearing down on her with the clear intention of rearranging her anatomy with their fists. She had a bat out but didn't look too confident, more defiant. Before the men could really change focus (sometimes it takes a long time for a thug's brain to latch onto a new idea) Dick sprang across the room feet first. He slammed into the nearest one and sent him flying to crash into a wall, even as he threw one of his billy clubs at the other's face. That man stumbled backwards, cursing and spitting, only for Dick move over to him in one roll and hammer his empty fist into the man's temple.

Two opponents down in as many seconds, Dick turned to see what had become of the last man. Not particularly to his surprise, Harley was standing over him with a triumphant expression. Dick gave her a light nod.

"Doctor Quinzel, what brings you out on a night like this?" Truth be told, he'd actually heard she was dead but he wasn't going to let on about it. Better to seem quietly capable and generally unflappable than at all mortal, lessons he'd learned long ago from Alfred.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Blissy
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She meant every last word of what she said, even if saying it felt somewhat unusual to her. Harley always had spirit, it was probably one her best qualities in fact, but being some kind of flawless butt-kicking super heroine, was far from the sort of person Harley Quinn had been. Despite knowing that, she also wasn't exactly as meek and fragile as most made her out to be. Harley was a fighter, someone with experience, but enough experience to have her easily handle the current situation without some trouble.

For a moment that fierce glint in her ocean blue yes, seemed to shift each which way at the trio of unfriendly goons closing in on her. Even if she were outnumbered and probably at somewhat of an obvious disadvantage, she wasn't going to make this easy for them. Nobody was going to get off easy.. Not any more!

Harley's grip around the bat tightened, her fingers locking in tough embrace against the fresh red and black painted steel of the bat, as she'd quickly assert herself in the exposure of her position. Standing in the middle off the room gave her vantage, but it also left her at another detriment of being unable to really use anything around the room to her advantage. She of course had agility, acrobatics, in her favour of skill-set, but managing three goons at once wasn't exactly her regular every day morning routine. Handling one of them would be easy, but the other two..-!

Harley's attempt to formulate a plan ended at the call of a certain important somebody's voice, she hadn't been expecting to show up. That voice.. She couldn't forget that voice..! It damn made her want to rip her ears off.. Throwing her attention across the room, Harley would make quick work of putting a name to the uninvited vigilante who decided to crash her little homecoming party. It could have been anyone.. Anyone had at all, but it had to be one of Bat-brains annoying little friends! UGH!

Nightwing jumped into the little feud without hesitation, serving to provide a solution to the somewhat of overwhelming problem Harley felt faced with at that particular moment. Of course, he did all that with some snarky remark about playing hero to a damsel that hardly felt like she wanted to be in distress. She was past that! She didn't come back to Gotham to be Joker's special little eye candy any more..! All Nightwing's commentary did was stir her mood up and cause her to feel a certain spark of adrenaline kick in. Maybe this what she needed? You know, having him, or someone like him there to really jog her mood and push her that extra mile that always made her such an irritable menace in the past.

“And I’ve never been the sort to favor Dark Knights is shining ARMOR!” She'd rebut, totally out of opportunity of turning Nightwing's comment, inside out. She had a point. It wasn't like Harley Quinn had a soft spot for the valiant little birds and bats of Gotham, so why wouldn't she express her inimical thanks for being “saved”, by one of the only kinds of people she would had never expected to have her back.

No matter the reason for Nightwing's intrusion, he had proven useful, as much as he had amusing to watch in the act of seeing him make easy work of the other two unlucky goons that clearly wouldn't be getting a piece of good ole Harley Quinn after all. That left one-! Harley didn't even get to finish the thought before her perturbed reaction of seeing Nightwing step up for her, quickly turned back to the only bruiser left in the room. Another big guy, more muscle then brains no doubt. Useful for things that didn't require much thinking, but terrible at just about everything else. Muscle head was upfront with showing his hostile regard for the bedazzled blonde jester in front of him. He took a mean swipe at her with his hands, trying to grapple her in some cruel smashing of both his fists together, as if to pop the crimson dressed blonde, like some sort of literal cherry. Harley was faster then him, or at least, fast enough to avoid the collision of being turned into red pudding.

The way she evaded the attack was more of an improvised maneuver, rather then an actual clean dodge. She'd lean back, her spine arching and her head pushing from the reach of the swipe in front of her. Both of his hands flew right over her completely missing, as Harley tried to collect her balance in the light stagger of losing it. Dodging the hit was one thing, but staying on her feet was something else entirely. She fell over, gently backwards and on to the cushion of her perky little red and black clad butt. She lost her grip of both hands around the bat, only managing to hold on to her weapon with one instead.

Sitting in front of the titan of man in front and staring up at him in a gentle blend of confusion and annoyance, motivated her to do the first clever thing that came to her mind. Frankly she didn't like people trying to kill her and especially not people she used to order around like dogs. For a brief second she'd just stare up in curious ill-tempered observation of the man and forget about Nightwing altogether. Both hands slapped down to the shape of her hips, as a tense pout of aggravation came to show on her lips. Next she'd just raise a single foot up and ram her boot as hard as she possibly could into the goons balls in front of her. That outta hurt..!

He squealed like a pig and Harley only threw on a satisfied smug smile. She didn't just quite end her cheap shot on her opponent there either, using his shock to her advantage, she'd flip up in yet another acrobatic flip and take a mean old slug off the side off the goon's skull, sending him crashing into the ground with a loud ding of a sound.
DING!

“Ouu! THAT OUTTA HURT!” She'd mock, feeling a sense of accomplishment in seeing her last problem sink into the floor of the small warehouse. “See, I told ya's not to mess with me.. It's to bad you all ain't that good at hearin.. Not like that's the majority of your problems anymore..” Would be her final words to the lump of a man crumbled at her feet, before she'd swing a sharp kick into his side and her face became plagued by scowling contempt.

Turning her attention over to the only other conscious player left on the board, Harley's look of disregard, transformed into a look of sharp irritation. “Ha ha.. you's so funny Night-brain.. Even if I wanted to tell ya's and I DON'T! Why would I even answer a question like that?” She'd rebut in ill-will response, before casually resting her blood dipped bat against the size of her shoulder. “Besides, it ain't none of your business what Im doin..” She'd start in showing nothing short but disinterest in showing Nightwing any manners. “Never really was for that matta!” She'd finish, as her tone spiked into a brief fluctuation of blatant animosity.

Once she finished speaking in her own defence, she'd slowly lean slightly forward towards Nightwing across the room. He was a safe distance away right? He wasn't going to try anything funny right? Even when Harley Quinn desired to be difficult with unexpected bat or bird dressed company, she always felt a light falter in her confidence, being around these types of people. Whether Nightwing here realized that or not, wasn't so important, so long as he'd stay where he was and keep his damn hands off her. “What about you's huh? Whatca doing stalking around me? IM SUPPOSE TO BE A SECRET!” She let it slip, despite not realizing that he already probably pieced that all together. Nightwing had been the first person to see Harley alive since, well, Batman up and vanished.

The longer she found herself standing there across from him assuming the worst, the more she realized just how finicky it was making her feel. Harley kept the stern address of her chilly gaze pinned to Nightwing, up until she realized that staring at him wasn't really helping calm her down. Instead of being able to maintain her cool, her attention slowly shifted from the black and blue clad nuisance in front of her and towards the big gun she formerly had the displeasure of losing, when she walked in the front door and was turned into a frisbiee. It wasn't far, close enough for her to reach, if she made a run for it, the only problem was the gun was right in the middle of the room, between the both of them. That would prove to make things tricky, given Harley Quinn knew better then to try and pull a fast one against Gotham's vigilantes. If she did this wrong, Night-brain could easily turn this situation around on her.. Unless..

Harley's brief slip of showing the obvious intention of trying to pull some cheap stunt that would earn her the gun, slipped away temporarily, as her gaze quickly shifted around the room. It didn't take long to find something to use, something close and something very much in her style of humor and action. Harley only shifted from the former lean and turned her back slowly to Nightwing in a light disconcerted withdrawal. It was an act, but Dick might have known that already.

Turning on her heels with a light humming of a rather nonrhythmic tune, sung out in the distinctive pitch of her squeaky little voice, Harley put her cheap plan into motion. “But hey.. I guess you can't blame me for spillin the beans.. Considering you've always been the sort to not keep secrets! But dun worry, it;s okay.. Someone's gotta know right, better you then BAT-FREAK! Ouop! Did I say that out loud, I didn't mean to try n make you's jealous or anything.. but I must say..” The former poor innocence in her expression slipped away, the minute she'd reach over for a small little chair sitting in front of her. She were trying to conceal it, disguise what she had planned, but Dick was probably a lot smarter then that. “If it bothers you so much, why don't we sit down and talk all about it?” Thus came the punch line of the joke, before Harley easily turned on her heels and threw the tiny chair across the room. The funny thing was that Harley had hardly tried to be precise with her aim, instead throwing the thing wildly in some witty attempt to cause enough of a distance to run for the gun.

“HEADS UP NIGHT-BRAIN! He he!” She'd exclaim, before running for the gun and hoping to get there before Dick might be able to shut her down.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Barrett
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Barrett Oh, the year was 1778...

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Dick had to admit that Harley seemed to have handled to final member of the Joker's goons pretty well. A bit sloppy, perhaps, but then she'd received training to be a psychiatrist and gymnast, not a fighter. He'd probably need some serious medical attention pretty soon, no one likes getting beaten with a bat but Dick could afford to wait a few moments before calling the emergency services. Harley was potentially a much more useful lead to the clown than a few of his goon's.

Stooping for a moment to reclaim his billy club, he heard Harley protest her innocence of purpose and right to roam.

“Besides, it ain't none of your business what I'm doin.. Never really was for that matta!”

He span the club around in his hand and then snapped it back into its harness on his back with its twin. He thought he saw her almost flinch at the sudden motion and deliberately moved more gradually to straighten up and face her properly.

"You know, I seem to remember this outstanding warrant for you arrest... along with a waiting cell at Arkham. Ring any bells?" he said carefully, not exactly challenging her but not giving ground either. She seemed to ignore that, however, focussing on something else.

"Whatca doing stalking around me? I'M SUPPOSE TO BE A SECRET!” she growled, seeming almost offended that he even knew she was here. Nightwing supposed that it might seem a little suspicious, him turning up the moment she started something but a citizen of Gotham had to quickly get used to coincidence, it was a hazard of living in the city.

"Believe it or not Harley, we sometimes go after criminals who aren't you or your boyfriend. This time, I was watching these muppets. So I have you to thank for ending my time on stakeout, I suppose." he gestured at the unconscious or quietly moaning henchmen.

As he talked, he saw her attention wander. What was she thinking about? Come to think about it, why was she here, harassing random thugs often in the Joker's employ rather than with the man himself? The word around town was that her and the clown had recently had some sort of falling out and those fallings out usually ended with him doing serious physical damage to her. Maybe the straw had finally broken the camel's back and she was finally ready to start giving back some of what the Joker had been dishing out for years? One could but hope.

A lot of Dick's hope was dashed when he saw her sneak a glance at the gun on the floor between them. Dammit he thought as she feigned disinterest in both him and the weapon, turning away. With her back turned, he readied his wrist grapnel with an easy motion. When she spun around and started blabbing, it was pretty clear she was trying to distract him to make a grab for the weapon. She finally made her move with characteristic subtlety and restraint; she screamed “HEADS UP NIGHT-BRAIN! He he!” and tossed a chair in his general direction.

As it flew past his shoulder, Dick aimed the grapnel at the gun and fired. The pincer on the end of the gas propelled rope grabbed ahold of the weapon and, with the a flick of his wrist, retracted and sent it shooting across the floor towards him. He brought it to a stop by stamping down with one foot, not breaking eye contact with Harley. His stamp knocked the magazine out and crushed the trigger guard, just as he meant to. With a reload and a few moments work to bend the guard back into shape, it would be fireable but not before then. In a swift motion, he stepped sideways, retrieved the chair and set it back upright.

"I think that's a great idea Harley, glad you suggested it." He pushed the chair towards her across the floor and pointed at it, indicating she should sit. "Let's talk. How's the clown doing these days? Healthy? In good humour? Because I really need to find him and if he is all those things, to change that." Dick didn't want to bring up the Batman yet, Harley would likely do it for him if she knew anything and if she didn't, he saw no reason to inform her that he was missing.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Blissy
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Throwing chairs was, well, improvised, given Harley needed a way to take an easy lunge for the gun. It didn't matter whether the odds were in her favor, or not for getting her hands back on the fire-arm. For now the feeling of knowing she were at an obvious disadvantage and faced with one of her old enemies, served to be motivating enough to make her take bigger risks. If she didn't fight back, then she was already beaten. It wasn't exactly outside her character to scramble for the first easy thing she might able to use, when it came to keeping bats and birds of prey at bay.

Nightwing was faster then her, as much as he were much more witty and prepared for the whole situation. Nightwing had tools, training, experience when it came to dealing with these kind of situations and Harley played a game much more based on luck and chance, never sort of breaking any transparent rules or formalities that might come into play. The worst thing that could happen was that she'd miss the gun and he'd get a hold of it first. He'd probably disarm the weapon, making it an inefficient means of turning the situation in her favor. When did Harley Quinn ever have the situation in her favour when it came to feuding off just about any of Batman's extended family members?

"You know, I seem to remember this outstanding warrant for you arrest... along with a waiting cell at Arkham. Ring any bells?"


It didn't help that Nightwing was playing at all his usual formalities of abiding by a code that had been taught to him by some certain other people Harley was never on very good terms with. Not even five minutes into their confrontation and already he was threatening her with the padded cell and warrants for her arrests.. She wasn't going back to Arkham! Not when Joker was still alive.. “What else is new Night-freak? It doesn't matter what you say.. IM NOT GOING BACK TO ARKHAM!" She'd denounce Nightwing's threat and just let the rush of the moment take influence in forcing her hand.

Whatever the outcome, Quinn was set on obtaining the weapon. She'd dash forward, hoping the distraction would be enough to slow Nightwing in his reaction to pulling the weapon from her reach. Throwing the chair was entirely a diversion and even if she wanted to hit Nightwing with it, her aim was well off by a large distance. Springing forward in a frantic attempt to grab the gun, Harley's fingers would snatch and reach for the grip of the weapon a moment before the gas propelled rope claw, snatched the weapon from her reach and any fantastical hope she had about forcing Nightwing under the point of the barrel and handling the situation how she'd prefer.

At first she felt surprised by the sight of the gun slipping right out from the near tip of her fingers, up until she'd watch the gun reel away from her, at the snatch of Nightwing's grapple gadget. She should have known better by now.. It only took a moment for that surprise to diminish into a light growl of response at the sight of seeing Nightwing catch the gun under his boot and dispose of the weapons former efficiency. Harley felt baffled by the idea of seeing her former toy broken by Nightwing's retrieve of the weapon.

For a minute, she'd just stare over at the gun feeling near devastated by the idea of seeing just how easily he had taken it's addition out of the situation. A second later she'd stand up straight and expel an impatient huff of displeasure. She'd point out to Nightwing where he stood across from her, as her cheeks pouted in annoyance. “See, this is why I can't have nice things.. Cuz people like you always gotta ruin em for me!” She'd start, as her attention slowly shifted from Nightwing and elsewhere in a display of inevitable disapproval. She'd shrug a moment later, as her expression became bland with all the disdain in the world. “I wasn't gonna shot ya, I was just gonna give you's a warning shot was all.. You know, sorta shake ya up a bit.. How else am I suppose to get ya to listen? You bat-creeps don't hear all that well unless you have motivation too.” A dull crossing of her arms at her stomach ensued next, before Nightwing would speak back to her.

"I think that's a great idea Harley, glad you suggested it." He pushed the chair towards her across the floor and pointed at it, indicating she should sit. "Let's talk. How's the clown doing these days? Healthy? In good humour? Because I really need to find him and if he is all those things, to change that."


Of course he'd say that.. The longer Harley stood there waiting for Nightwing to make his next move, the more irritable she found herself becoming. He spoke, causing her to break from the former light cradle of her arms at her tummy in a loud huff of her expiring patience. Harley's hands would ball into fists, as she'd grumble in discontent and start to break down into a childish fit. “Why can't you BAT-CREEPS, juss leave me alone! This doesn't even concern you! It's like every time I do ANYTHING, one of you comes running! I didn't even hurt anyone this time.. Well, not to bad.. Arrghhh!” Apparently taking a bat to some ones skull was getting off easy with Harley Quinn. Well, that and the fact that killing the few living goons left lying about the warehouse wasn't exactly a viable option with Nightwing standing in her way. It didn't help that the chair came sliding over to her in the middle of the fit, gently bumping into her front. Eyes turning in spiteful response back over to the black and blue clad nuisance across the room, Harley would roll her eyes and snap down into the middle of the chair. Did she really have a choice by this point? At least he got her to sit and cut her tantrum short, that was a start.

Complying with Nightwing's suggestion was one thing, but flattering him with all the details about Joker was something well beyond her intentions. As a matter of fact, the mention of Joker only caused her to return a look of shadowy resentment back to the one asking. “That's a very good question..” A light teasing of the answer sung forth from her lips. Clearly Harley didn't have the direct answers that Dick might have been looking for, but before allowing him to ask any more, she felt the need to further explain why. “You better lay off the clown Night-brain, otherwise you're really going to give me a real reason to want to hurt ya and I can tell's ya, it ain't gonna be why ya think it is.. Not like you know anything about that at all..!” It was an interesting answer, given Harley seemed to show no opposition to the idea of Nightwing wanting to track her ex boyfriend down. That said, that wasn't Nightwing's job to do. This was a much more personal matter..

Another moment of letting the unorthodox terms of her response sit between them, caused Harley to shift back against the spine of the chair with a bored frown. She'd move both hands to her side, pinning them to the sides of the chair, as her attention wandered slowly about the room, as she tried to forget about Nightwing wanting to find Joker before her. That's when she got a very curious idea. “You know, it's kinda funny you'd be askin me this, since I haven't been in Gotham for the last little while.. Not since Joka tried to kill me anyway's..” She'd start to reveal the true reasoning for causing the commotion that she did, as well as give Nightwing a much clearer answer to what her business with ruining Joker's little hide-outs, was all about. “He said he had this bright idea right? Turns out that bright idea involved him tryin to kill me.. WHO WOULDA GUESSED?! Along with your little Bat-freak of friend.. Guess he left the part out where he left me to die.. huh?! That's funny right? No! It ain't funny at all!” A light sniffling would commence. Harley got a grip of herself a moment later, lashing out in anger instead of letting her despair get the better of her judgment. “BUT IT DOESN'T MATTA! Im gonna repay him personally for causing me so much trouble.. Just think, all the years of-.. Oh, I can't wait to see my Puddin again.. real soon..” She'd finish providing her answer, before turning her attention back to Nightwing entirely. The vengeful intentions of her mood were clear as day. As was that particular bitterness that seemed to coat her voice the more she talked about Joker. For once in her life, Harley Quinn wasn't joking around, or trying to play one of her enemies for a fool.


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Partly to his surprise but mostly to his relief, Harley sank into the chair with no more than a few token protests and started to answer Nightwing's questions. Or, sort of, in a round about way. Mostly she complained about the Joker being awful (surprise, surprise), told Dick not to involve himself in this evening's events (Yeah, that'll happen), had a few moments grief over her lot in life (I really don't want to feel sorry for her, but it's happening anyway) and then switched back to a much more familiar emotion, anger. He was glad she was willing to talk but her answers weren't exactly the easiest to decipher.

As Dick listened to Harley's answers in silence, giving a few quizzical smiles or raised eyebrows to encourage her to continue, his brain worked to piece together what she was saying with the facts as he knew them. She says she's through with the Joker, we'll see how long that lasts, but at least she's not here working for him. When she got to the part about Batman leaving her to die, he internally rolled his eyes but kept his outward face sympathetically immobile. Super-villains will see things how they want to see them. But the most interesting thing was that she didn't seem to mind him going after Joker, even hinting that she knew where he was. Sure, she made it sound like she wanted to be the one to get him but at least she wasn't doing the old "Don't hurt my puddin'!" routine, a definite improvement.

Resisting the urge to stroke his chin in a complentative manner (Bruce and Tim both did it while investigating but somehow Dick couldn't see it as anything other than funny looking) he surveyed Harley from behind his mask. What could he do with her now? He still needed to know where Joker was but Harley didn't seem to want to tell him at all. But... well, call him a sucker if you want but he wanted to believe that she was sincere in her contempt for the clown and didn't want to nip that in the bud by knocking her out and tossing her into Arkham. Of course, he couldn't exactly let her run around free, not after she tossed a frag grenade into a room full of people and savagely beat a man with a baseball bat. If he let her loose, she'd likely end up killing someone or getting killed, neither of which Dick was going to allow.

Of course, there was always another way, though he might live to regret choosing it. He couldn't let her go, he didn't want to take her in so he'd have to keep an eye on her personally. It might prove useful, given that she likely had a much better idea of where their mutual target was but hell if this wasn't going to be an ordeal. He swept his rakish fringe to one side in a habitual motion and spoke to her. "Listen Harley, no one is as glad as me to hear you're keen to stick it to the man with the green hair, really. And while I'm glad to hear you want to go and ram one of his jokes down his throat, you've clearly got no more of an idea where he is than I do. Now we could do the whole thing where we fight and you end up in a GCPD van heading to Arkham... or you can help me find the Joker and I'll help you force feed him his own funnies."

Nightwing extended a hand and gave his best winning smile. To be extremely modest, it was pretty damn winning. "I know it's a lot to think about but this is limited time offer, I'm in something of a rush. So what do you say, want to be signed in a vigilante deputy for the night?" He prayed she'd shake and make it easier and, hopefully, better for both of them.
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Nightwing was probably the last person Harley Quinn ever expected to be coming clean with, not like she had many other people willing and waiting to hear any of what she had said. Running into him how she did and when she did was unexpected, but not quite as unexpected as him, or one of his allies popping up to ruin some kind of mediocre plan she were trying to commit too. However, having her crusade for revenge crashed sooner then later, was just bound to happen eventually. Better now then later of course, for her sake mostly.

What else could she really do besides try to comply with Nightwing's suggestions? It was either that, or get involved into another storm of a mess and more then likely wind up in the back of an armoured GCPD van and go three steps back from where she wanted to be in Gotham City. Dissolving into the depth of her thoughts, Harley began to consider the circumstances of spilling her rough plan in trying to get a cheap pity leech out of the caped crusaders former side kick. Was that what this was? A pity grab? From Nightwing? Ewwww! The thought of it brought a certain sour flavouring to her lips, causing her to stick out her tongue in all immature and sickened display. To Nightwing, she probably just looked like she were being her usual old crazy self, courtesy of Joker's hand in making her the wild ball of energy she were now.

Mostly unarmed, other then baring the red and black steel bat she still possessed in hand, Quinn knew fighting wasn't really her best option. Out played, out thought and so many more things that would easily work against her favor, Harley had try to come to some sort of alternative, even if part of her straight wanted to turn her head on the offer presented to her. Thinking about anything positive that related to The Bat, or any of his friends, only made her feel dizzy in the head. You the know, the kind of dizzy you got when you felt sick, or nausea at the thought letting a do-gooder try to heckle you into being some sort of anti-hero. Harley Quinn.. anti-hero-? That actually sounds like a good place to- SHHHH! I didn't ask you docta lady! It wasn't like there were many good things she could trace when it came to trying to give any of Gotham's dark knights their silver lining, or uncredited benefits when it came to her even attempting to fancy just about anything they did. These were the people that hurt Joker.. The people that used to make her want to-! You're not that person anymore.. Oh bother.. Harley concluded that this was just a really big personal matter about holding down a really big and particularly outdated grudge. In a fantasy world, she would have told Nightwing to take a hike, before she'd threaten to blow his head clean off. Unfortunately living in a fantasy world seemed to be anything that Harley Quinn had felt much interest in as of lately, since the former source of that fantasy living was now the only thing in the world she wanted to snuff out more then just about any Bat, or bird dressed weirdo that came crashing into her business. And such personal business it was..

"Listen Harley, no one is as glad as me to hear you're keen to stick it to the man with the green hair, really. And while I'm glad to hear you want to go and ram one of his jokes down his throat, you've clearly got no more of an idea where he is than I do. Now we could do the whole thing where we fight and you end up in a GCPD van heading to Arkham... or you can help me find the Joker and I'll help you force feed him his own funnies."

Nightwing extended a hand and gave his best winning smile. To be extremely modest, it was pretty damn winning. "I know it's a lot to think about but this is limited time offer, I'm in something of a rush. So what do you say, want to be signed in a vigilante deputy for the night?"


Nightwing proposed some sort of truce, as temporary as it were, it actually made Harley contemplate the possibility of it. This had nothing to do with feeling bad about causing him, or any of the other rogues associated with him trouble over the years. This was simply about taking advantage of an opportunity that were being presented to her at the time where keeping a low profile, wouldn't help her. Like that would last much longer, given how she preferred to handle personal situations. Pondering on the thought out loud in a very obnoxious, muttering of consideration, Harley would quirk a brow of doubt to the idea of trying to play nicely with Nightwing. Trying to figure out just what exactly felt right to say about her teaming up with some do-gooder bat-boy, was like trying to diffuse a very tricky bomb, one with only purely painted black wires, given to her right on the spot. But what wire.. the blue wire or the red wire? How the hell am I suppose to know when there all black?! Which one makes the biggest boom!? Or was she really relating to wires at all? What made Bird-brain so different then Bat-brain anyway? He'd sure just throw her in a cell without hearing a damn word more about the matter.. Nightwing was beginning to make her very curious and it was only because his former mentor was entirely out of the question.

Harley would snap her fingers in declarative near comic conclusion, as if she had come up with a bright new idea. “Ou! I kno, why don't you make yourself useful and help me find Mista J- I mean Joka? Maybe's if ya stoppin talkin about tryin to get me to cooperative witcha, then I might actually consider it? Im not sure, still thinkin about it.. All that spunk you carry yourself with, it's kinda clouding my judgement.. At the least I feel a bit flattered though.. So good job not tying me to the curb for once! I really appreciate it.” The former played fragile innocence in her voice slipped away, at the slight quirk of her own mocking address. She heard everything, but of course she wanted to be the one that said it, or at least think she came up with the idea. “Cuz makin deals with Bird-brains ain't exactly within my good character!” A childish huff expelled from lips, as she'd slap both hands back around her chest in tight pouty cradle. She raised her chin next, turned her attention elsewhere and played into the most pretentious expression she could. “Maybe Ill even help ya.. Tell ya's about a couple more of Joker's secrets hide outs..” She'd break from her former arrogant stature and point a finger back over to Nightwing in assertive declaration, other hand snapping on to her hip in a sharp arch. “But if we are gunna work togetha then the first thing you gotta know Nightie-brain, is to respect a girls things.. I dun kno how you and batgirl used to play beat up the bad guys, but I ain't no BATGIRL! How's that little ole gal doing by the way? Been a while.. If there was anyone I had teensie-winsie respect for, then it was her.. Sorry Night-brain, it's a girl thing.” She'd finish in her terms of agreement, before turning her attention back to the gun under Nightwing's foot. For a moment she just stared at the gun, reconsidering the idea of trying to just ask for it back nicely, because you know, that last little statement was Harley Quinn asking nicely, or as nice as she'd get with Nightwing anyway. Then came the exhausted lapse of her own impatient ego. “You night-creeps and your no killing rules.. No wonda you never catch a break.. And to think you's all got so many problems.. I wonda why.. Maybe if you give me my gun back then I'll consider using rubber bullets.. You got any, or am I gonna have to fight withca about burrowing em from a store? I swear I'll return em” Or so she said, teasing Nightwing with a mischievous wide smile. These two were bound to be off to the terms of a shaky partnership.

Harley let actions speak for her words next. She'd stand up in a snap and slowly begin to pace around Nightwing where he stood. Walking in a half circle, she'd double back with a gawk of excitement. “So whatta say Bird-brain? Night-brain, er, which you prefer? I really dun care.. It's all the same to me.. But I gotta know, cuz I ain't callin you BOSS! Matta of fact, if anyone is the brains of this operation it's gonna be me.. Guess that makes you the bronze huh?” She'd conclude, with a devious little wink, that transformed into a grin a moment later. Harley would turn on her heels and sway her hips in sassy withdraw, moving to and stopping at the door to the hideout. Once there, she'd tilt her head back to Nightwing with a gentle glint of invitation in her expression, before gesturing to him to follow, also being curious to see if he'd throw her the gun or not. “So where do we start? Cuz im getting real tired of just picturing Joka's head splattered all over the floor.. I've always had a bit of creative spirit no doubt, but keeping my pretty little ideas all kept up on my head isn't good for me.. That just means we gotta do whatever it takes to make Joka's skull crack open like an egg.. you think his brains are as scrambled as mine? Or maybe they're ova easy? Im curious in findin out..” If that wasn't enough to say she were on-board, then what else could she say? Harley Quinn spilling Joker's brains out? Maybe she really had changed, or maybe this was just the start of something that neither of them were quite ready for?
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Ho boy Dick thought as Harley launched in a monological tirade. I guess I should've expected some verbal outpourings, my own fault. It almost makes me reminiscent for Kory's hyper-verbal outbursts. The thought of his Tamaran ex-teammate almost brought a grin to his face but he swiftly suppressed it, not wanting to seem like he was laughing at Harley. He focussed in a little more on what she was saying, seemed to be her justifying it not as a partnership that he offered but him asking for her help. Whatever works, as long as we can move along.

With characteristic diplomacy, she touched on some more sensitive areas. “But if we are gunna work togetha then the first thing you gotta know Nightie-brain, is to respect a girls things.. I dun kno how you and batgirl used to play beat up the bad guys, but I ain't no BATGIRL! How's that little ole gal doing by the way? Been a while.. If there was anyone I had teensie-winsie respect for, then it was her.. Sorry Night-brain, it's a girl thing.” It made him want to shut her up, given her intimacy with the Joker and what he did to Babs. He didn't though, Harley had no way of knowing the link between the crippling of Barbara Gordon and disappearance of Batgirl.

"She's doing well Harley, just playing a different role than before. I'll be sure to tell her you asked after her." Dick's words were likely barely registered by the lady mid rant. She had already launched into a new, even less helpful subject.

“You night-creeps and your no killing rules.. No wonda you never catch a break.. And to think you's all got so many problems.. I wonda why.. Maybe if you give me my gun back then I'll consider using rubber bullets.. You got any, or am I gonna have to fight withca about burrowing em from a store? I swear I'll return em” And while he had to admire her gumption for trying it on like that, they both knew he wasn't going to budge.

"You know, I think I'm going to have to say no on that one. Take it as a sign of my masculine insecurity if you want but I'm not letting you wander around behind me with this cannon, rubber bullets or no." It was classic Dick to wrap something people didn't want to hear in with a self-deprecating joke.

As she turned away, he followed but subtly gave the gun another stamp as he did. This time, it was the sight that felt his boot, knocking it way off kilter. To anyone interested in using it, it would need to be replaced but Dick realised that Harley probably exclusively shot from the hip anyway. Oh well, made my point.

"I prefer Nightwing but I guess Bird-brain's fine, makes me think of Eddie. And we start with you telling me where there's another group of Joker's goons that we can beat for information as these ones" he pointed at the occupants of the building "are pretty much spent."
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Judging by how much she said, Harley felt curious in knowing whether or not it had all registered with Nightwing. Half the things she said didn't register with her only a short few seconds after she said them, hence why she spent more time talking in circles and trying to redefine the important things to whoever it was that was listening. Nightbrain was listening right? He BETTA have been LISTENTING! -You really need to calm down, I think Nightwing is trying to help you.. There it was again! That god awful morale side of her conscience trying to talk her down into some cheap level of rationality.

“Go away okay..” Harley would mouth off to, well no one, hardly even realizing she said it. Despite any of that, Dick would have probably heard it. This whole talking to herself thing was getting worse everyday, even if knowing just hearing the voice of her old self seemed to calm her down a great deal. Without Joker, she'd need someone or else something very bad might happen to her.

Harley only realized she said what she had, at the expel of the odd words spoken to no one particular individual standing among them. Whether Nightwing was following her to the door or not yet, wasn't so important. She turned on her heels, puffed a light scowl of near childish disapproval, before letting the former sourness on her face extinguish into the light smirk that she'd wear standing within the doorway. It was only at that time that she'd feel the need to response to anything Dick had said.

"She's doing well Harley, just playing a different role than before. I'll be sure to tell her you asked after her." Dick's words were likely barely registered by the lady mid rant. She had already launched into a new, even less helpful subject.


“Well ain't that good to kno.. She's still hanging out with you losa's though, so I can't imagine it's all that great.” She said, speaking ignorantly about the terms of a certain Barbara Gordon, who she of course, did not personal know. Leave it to Harley Quinn to always state her mind, as if she could help it even when it might have better for her to shut up. Of course Harley's mediocre gravelling of trying to figure out what was safe to discuss with Nightwing and what was not, wasn't nearly as profound in her hopes of striking the right note. Oh no, becoming friends with one of the Bats friends, that may very well take a life time for this particular woman.

Harley only went back to that adorable pouting of intolerance at the shame of knowing she wouldn't be getting her gun back. She even gestured in devastated protest from where she waited at the door, at the sight of seeing Nightwing's foot ram into the gun once again.

"You know, I think I'm going to have to say no on that one. Take it as a sign of my masculine insecurity if you want but I'm not letting you wander around behind me with this cannon, rubber bullets or no." It was classic Dick to wrap something people didn't want to hear in with a self-deprecating joke.


Nightwing was doing an absolutely spontaneous job at reminding Harley Quinn, what it was that made him so damn annoying, never sort of his evocative humour.“Wha! HEY! Stop smashing my toys NIGHT-BRAIN.. ARGH.. What's a matta with you?! Didn't BATFREAK teach you any manners?!” She asked aloud, mostly because she saw the action of the stomp deny her any further hope of potentially getting the gun back in a decide and fair working order. A light huff relinquished from her lips, before she'd try to force herself to recall what the unspoken rules of their engagement were. Hand coming to her hip, head tilting to the side, Harley projected a look of displeasure, lacking in showing just how impressed she were with Nightwing's stern show of denying her the ability to punch holes in the many problems she had yet to encounter.

"I prefer Nightwing but I guess Bird-brain's fine, makes me think of Eddie. And we start with you telling me where there's another group of Joker's goons that we can beat for information as these ones" he pointed at the occupants of the building "are pretty much spent."


“FINE! Have it your way then Bird-brain.. I'll tell ya's where Jokers next secret hide out is, but first I needs some fresh air.. Being cramped up in a room with these dense idiots and you's is really putting a stress load on me.. and if there's one thing I dun like, it's being stressed out.. especially when im working with the enemy..” Or so she'd say, before moving from the door with a pout of a 'hmph!' and into the narrow alleyway outside. The funny thing was that she continued bantering to herself outside, even when she walked further and further away down the alleyway. It almost sounded like she was teasing him, mocking Dick with nothing short of her own prodigious ego.

“I know's somethin you dun know! You dun kno, you dun kno, I kno's something ya dunno.. and I ain't gonna tell ya's what it is! He he he! Come on Bird-brain, or would ya ratha stay here and perch out with the rest of the sleepin little chicklets.. Ha, ha! That was a good one!” Her terrible jokes saw her walk further and further away from the scene, as she'd hope Nightwing would come running after her at the idea of fraternizing him in the way a child might fraternize an adult, when things were clearly not going their way. There was no doubt that Nightwing was the designated adult here for the evening, or however long it would take for them to solve their common affair.
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As Harley stalked out of the door, clearly put out by the further desecration of her gun, Dick snapped open a panel on his wrist and swiftly called for an emergency dispatch to their current location. He probably aught to have called for one a little sooner, given the beating Harley handed out to the final henchman, but he couldn't feel much sympathy for the man after having seen his rap sheet from Blackgate. As it was, he might suffer a concussion but nothing worse than an average run in with Bruce. That done, he snapped the mini screen shut and followed her out.

He'd assumed she'd have some sort of car or bike or something waiting to jump into. Instead, she seemed to have no real reason for exiting the building than to underline her protest by storming off. As soon as she was outside, she started talking about fresh air and being cramped. Most people would likely have rolled their eyes at such childish behaviour but Dick had more than enough experience with Damian to know how to play things. Don't react until she's stopped doing stuff just to get a rise.

So instead of sighing or demanding that they leave now, he clasped his hand behind his back (not having pockets to put them in), whistled a jaunty tune and strolled after her. Hopefully this complete non-reaction to her teasing and general antics would infuriate her to no end, maybe enough to make her try a new tact; seriousness. It's a long shot but they don't call the boy wonder for nothing. Though I suppose they probably call Damian that now. Damn.

After following her for a few minutes and curbing any potentially destructive outbursts she might have, Dick finally spoke up. "So, Doctor Quinzel, do you have a reliable means of transportation? Or are you going to hitchhike to our destination?" He wondered if using her name and title would annoy, confuse or humanise her. Probably the first, he decided.
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Harley's frivolous strut down the alleyway and towards the street, seemed to be fueled by her own desperate intention, to get a rise out of Nightwing. So far these two had stated the so called terms of their agreement to work together, all in the form of unspoken promises. Harley knew Nightwing wasn't going to let her handle the situation in the way she might prefer and that served to be her motivation for really trying to vex him back and drag him down to her level of lacking competency. That really was what this was all about, expressing her ego by this point into their little act of catching up. He may have been better, but it wasn't like she could make him worse right? Or something like that anyway..

Despite leaving the former vantage of the dusty old barred windows that kept her image distorted from Nightwing inside, Harley actually stopped by the edge of the alleyway where the narrow path met the side walk and waited for him. Was there even a point in running away? He'd find her anyway, especially if she tried to dip out on their deal.. He knew, she knew, where Bat-brain might be.. Only now standing at the corner did Harley really started to review the situation. She probably said more then she should have, but what else was new? She'd find a way to improvise, even if that meant leaving Nightwing behind? You wouldn't actually- Or would I? Ohoho! You forget who's he is? Made me miserable enough times..- But that's not you any more..

No matter how Harley tried to ignore that little positive voice in her head, it just made her feel less in line with just about anything she thought she had a grip on and push further away from feeling vindicated with who she had become. Her grip on the bat tightened, her lips tensing in annoyed aggravation. Nightwing didn't even yell back, give her a reaction, he just let her walk off and sulk in the lazy attempt to get a rise out of him. It was at that time that Harley started to remember why it was that she had such a problem with Batman and his side-kicks in the first place, they didn't joke around, they didn't see eye to eye with her and for all the obvious reasons, because apparently she was part of the problem. I hate him so-! The impulsive imploding thought of her own depressive out lashing in her own spiteful thoughts, broke at the whim of Nightwing's steps sounding out behind her and the question he spoke with his forthcoming presence.

"So, Doctor Quinzel, do you have a reliable means of transportation? Or are you going to hitchhike to our destination?"


At first she felt confused, razed by the usage of her real and former name in the simple terms of asking her a very sensible question. Harley blinked twice in confusion, her lips parting to try and say something witty, as her brows lifted in unsuspecting response. Then came the collapse back into haughty agitation. Dick hit a personal note with his little reference to referring to a certain person she argued with everyday since Joker left her for dead and alone in the world. It was like pointing a finger at her, calling her out for something he knew she wouldn't like. It made her feel terribly guilty, especially when she knew she had slowly been breaking away from Joker and into someone she hardly recognized any more. “Listen Bird-brain.. Stop trying to be clever for a least one second and cut me some slack okay?” She responded, with a noted addition of arrogance wrapped up in the bundle of her own agitated vocal reply. That's when she realized she was already starting to lose the ego battle that she formerly promised herself she'd win, at all costs. Dick was playing with high stakes and he seemed to show no pity about doing it.

The former address of her narrow glance back to Nightwing slipped away, as she'd take several steps to the edge of the alleyway and peak left and then right down the street. Apparently Bird-brain thought he was clever huh? Well how about this.. Realistically she had just scrambled to come up with a clever way to try and poke holes in Dick's temper.

That former look of defeated edginess slipped away, only to be replaced by a smug smirk of her own. “No, I didn't come with a ride, been sticking to the side streets, working my way around Gotham slowly.. but I appreciate your lame attempt at tryin to get me going off something so silly as not having a car.. Oh Night-brain, you really have no idea how us, misunderstand individuals of Gotham realli work.” She paused in her little clever speech, before twirling the bat in her hand and resting it against the size of her shoulders in a horizontal lull. “That's why I was gonna steal one.. Tell me Night-brain, you's ever wired a car, or you got something else in mind.. Wait, dun tell me.. B-man doesn't let you get the cool toys, instead he gives you handy me downs..” A light giggling mused at her lips. Harley actually thought she was getting somewhere when it came to phasing Dick's own ego. “It's okay though, being second best ain't that bad.. Just look at me right? Or maybe with you's its third or fourth best.. I really dunno, B-man always shuffles through side-kicks so quickly.. Anyway.. I think ima go take that red fancy lookin one of there..” She finished, as her hand rose up and pointed down the street to a car that was barely red and looked anything but fancy.

“Whatta say Bird-brain? You wanna suck up to me and ride shotgun or are you gonna keep being a prick and im gonna have to make ya's ride in the back? Maybe they even got a toddler seat in there for ya.. Ou now that's cute..” Harley couldn't refrain from trying, continuously wanting to see Dick lose his cool, even throwing in an adoring giggle at the end of her sentence. Come on.. pout, flounder, smile?! She needed a damn reaction and it needed to be better then Nightwing's usual sneering. Sure setting him off might have been a bit of set back, but he's the one that started it and Harley Quinn wasn't about to back down when it came to vexing the boy wonder, or whoever he was now. She didn't really keep up to date with these things. Plus, it wasn't like he could find Joker without her. Then again, he probably could, but she could make it so much easier.

Harley's feet motioned forward slowly, as she felt enticed to see how Dick would react, her expression exploding into exhilarating mischief. That was the face of trouble, or the façade of it anyway. She wasn't really going to steal the car. Like she were that stupid, but seeing his reaction would be priceless if this went her way.
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Note to self: her real name distresses her. It didn't take a genius or study body language to notice the involuntary tensing of the shoulders and defensive tone of her voice. On the other hand, maybe that was to be expected? Dick couldn't know what was happening inside Harley's mind but he could make an educated guess. If she was truly trying to break free of Joker's thrall, she was likely undergoing something of an identity crisis. For some time now, she had been defined by her relationship with the clown, all her goals centred on him and her actions focussed on his benefit. Without that, who would she be? After the experience of recent years, it seemed unlikely that she'd just slip back into the role of Doctor Quinzel but who could say.

As she quickly moved past his use of her official title, possibly trying to avoid dealing with it, Dick once again had to resist rolling his eyes. She was suggesting stealing a car and doing her level best to provoke him into getting defensive, specifically by describing him as Batman's least favourite protégé. Honestly, he thought, the similarities with Damian are down right spooky. The youngest Robin too often chose to insult and belittle people rather than deal with what they were saying, deflecting the issues with acidic barbs. Less and less now though, Dick had to admit. The little assassin had mellowed out towards most of the Bat-family in recent weeks (not so much with Tim) but one had to wonder whether that would hold out with Bruce's disappearance.

Instead of rising to it or getting defensive, he let her rant on uninterrupted. Have I ever wired a car? Now that brings back memories... he mused, letting his mind spin back to recall his several attempts to steal cars and joyride, none of which had been very successful. Twice he'd almost been caught by cops and the third time... well, the Batman himself had landed on the hood of the car and told him to get out. That'd been only a few weeks after his parent's deaths, when Dick had still been trying to find ways of dealing with the grief and the change.

Harley's biting words and mocking tone snapped him back to the present. “Whatta say Bird-brain? You wanna suck up to me and ride shotgun or are you gonna keep being a prick and I'm gonna have to make ya's ride in the back? Maybe they even got a toddler seat in there for ya... Ou now that's cute...”

With a lazy grin, Dick shrugged. "Sure, we could steal car. Of course, I'd be honour bound as a good citizen to call the other boys in blue if I saw criminal activity like that going on. No, I was thinking we could take my ride." With that, he pressed down a button on his wrist with a self satisfied smile.

Nothing happened immediately, though his smile still stayed on.

Five seconds passed.

Ten seconds...

"... Just give it a minute, alright."

About thirty seconds after the button was pressed (Dick's smile looked a little desperate by then) there came a squealing of tires from around the corner and a headlight came into view. It was so bright that the vehicle and driver where blocked from view until it pulled up sharply alongside them. It was a sleek looking blue and black motorbike, Nightwing's insignia emblazoned across its chassis. More importantly, it had no driver.

Dick mumbled "couldn't have got here any sooner, could you?" under his breath as he turned back to Harley. "What do you think? Better than a stolen family car? I'm sorry there's no kiddie seat."
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Harley felt determined, dedicated to seeing Nightwing gaffe, as a lazy means of trying to feel like his equal or better. She should have known better then to keep poking, keep sticking her fingers in the deep end, just to see how long she could get away with doing it before one of the bigger fish tried to pull her under. Whether it was for the thrill, or the desire to show supremacy to a cause that hardly cared nor mattered by this point, Harley wasn't going to back down and she certainly wasn't going to let Dick have the last laugh.

How many times had she been made the butt of the joke? Been slapped around at the expense of one Joker's dreadful slap-stick comedies? Harley Quinn wasn't about to become the early former Robin's little protege and especially not under the circumstances that always left her with the short end of the stick. But not today! Nope, today she was going to take the pokey end of that stick and poke the simper right off Night-brain's smug little face

Eventually her desire to reach some superiority complex seemed to come to a fair conclusion, a conclusion that clearly hadn't been thought out, all that well. It really didn't matter whether she wanted the car or not, or if she meant to steal it, or was just trying to get a rise out of him, because Nightwing had other plans apparently. Harley's daunting venture forward served to take another step or two against the side-walk beneath her, before she'd stop at the sight of seeing Dick not only respond, but press a little button on his wrist thingie. Why did the good guys get all the cool toys? Dick's response was hardly needed, once she saw him press the little button on his wrist, Harley just knew he had something up his sleeve and it wasn't just a flashy button that when pressed, did nothing but serve to vex her with the idea of feeling near primitive when it came to comparing herself to someone with so much gadget tech.

With a lazy grin, Dick shrugged. "Sure, we could steal car. Of course, I'd be honour bound as a good citizen to call the other boys in blue if I saw criminal activity like that going on. No, I was thinking we could take my ride." With that, he pressed down a button on his wrist with a self satisfied smile.


Holding that composure of smug mischief wasn't so easy, not after she saw him do that. That dreadfully compelling smirk of hers only slid away the longer she tried to maintain it, the longer she realized it would be impossible to feel like she were one-upping her competition. Harley's former arrogant exuberance seemed to slowly slip away at the trade of a dissatisfied huff. Okay.. you win this round NIGHT-BRAIN!

Her arms came to a another tight hold beneath her bust, her chin turning in displeased notice of Nightwing pressing down on a secret button. Nothing good ever happened when any of the Bat-freaks did that.. At first she'd just let the derision of her own failed attempt to run his cool into the ground, steam and burn away. It was quite tragic really, like watching a fire consume and slowly burn away the former pride she thought she had when it came to pushing Nightwing into the second place role of their unspoken partnership. It all seemed like a lost cost, a waste of time, up until Harley realized that Nightwing's little gadget toy might very well be broken. Oh, maybe there was some hope yet..

"... Just give it a minute, alright."


Just give it a minute, was enough to tell Harley that something was wrong. Either Nightwing's little tech gadget was broken, or someone was doing something that was interfering with it's ability to work efficiently. “What's a matta Night-brain? Dun tell me I was right about B-man giving you the cheap stuff? Sucks to be fourth place.. don't it?” She sort of questioned, light wink flashing his way, as the idea of feeling righteous for even a split second really served to jive inspiration for her to continue in her sustaining charade of antagonizing her company. The whole time Harley waited for something to happen, her eyes stuck to Nightwing's faltering smile. It didn't take a former background in psychiatry to know that Nightwing was trying to keep his cool, despite the odd correspondence of whatever it was he had called on to come to his command. “You know.. I gotta ask ya's, why do you wear that mask anyway? You, B-man, THE REST OF YOUR WEIRD LITTLE FRIENDS.. What's the deal, at least with B-man's it helps keep most of his face concealed, you's though.. What's the point? I mean really? Don't try and bury your humanity in the ground, I can tell you ain't nearly as cool headed as you think you's are.. If there's one thing im good at it's watching people.. and I know someone when they're tryin to hold on to something with a false face when I's see one..” Or so she'd declare. The irony was that the same could be said about her and she wasn't even wearing a mask. Nope, instead Harley just always seemed justified by her ever changing sense of expression and intricate loyalty to always thinking she was one way, as opposed to another.

Nightwing's bike had impeccable timing, only showing up right as she reached the end of her sentence. A revving engine, squealing tires and a light that near blinded her when she turned to look, Harley turned to the marvel that was Nightwing's special method of transportation. She could hardly believe her eyes, any of what was left of that former ego of hers being shovelled down her throat in a quick gulp of shock and awe. The bike was beautiful, so beautiful, that she didn't think it was fair for Nightwing to have, among the many other things he already did. The only thing wrong with it was the shades of colour it came painted in and that damn insigna that reflected it's owner's own marking on his own very chest.

A moment more of taking in the marvel of a sight in front of her caused Harley to turn her attention back to Nightwing with a light baffled tilt of her brow. She wanted to say bad and annoying things, so many more obnoxious things in fact, but she couldn't seem to find the drive to do it. Though Harley didn't want to admit it, Nightwing had really won their first round of head-butting after all. Confused by what to say back in any lingering intentions to defend her shattering ego, Harley gawked at the thought of being able to even ride on the bike at all, as a passenger or driver. She had to admit, this was pretty cool.

Dick mumbled "couldn't have got here any sooner, could you?" under his breath as he turned back to Harley. "What do you think? Better than a stolen family car? I'm sorry there's no kiddie seat."


“Not bad Bird-brain, not bad at all.. Mind ya, it could use a different paint job? More red, less blue! Maybe even some remodeling in the front..?” If the devious tone that coated her voice wasn't enough to explain exactly what it was that she were imposing, then the slow shift of her bat from her shoulders would. Like she'd smash his bike. Maybe two or even three years ago without hesitate she would, but it wasn't like he didn't know that. Guess that meant that first round she lost was going into overtime after all? “Easy! Easy! I ain't gonna smash your toy, well, not with my bat anyway.. But you neva kno what otha things might happen.. Unlike you, I like livin on the wild side.. You letting me drive it right? I think if you let me drive it, it'll work just fine..” She teased him further, giggling as she formed those words, walking closer to the bike and standing beside it, before her eyes slowly shifted back over to Dick and let him make the final call. Obviously he wasn't going to let that happen either, but that wasn't the point. Harley knew Dick might make the worst of what Harley might end up doing to his bike and with that paranoia sitting on his conscience, that would be enough keep her in overtime.
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Dick was spared the difficulty of answering Harley's probing questions by the arrival of his bike. Had it chosen a less opportune moment to turn up, he might've let something slip in defence of a loved one and without entirely meaning to. In some ways, he worried her comments applied perfectly to Bruce, a man he constantly worried was burying his humanity. He wasn't particularly concerned about himself, Harley's comments were particularly pertinent to him. Dick wore a mask to protect his identity and pretty much never worried about his mental wellbeing which might be telling in itself.

He caught and was much gratified by the wide eyed coveting look Harley gave the bike. It was a lovely piece of machinery, as powerful and robust as it could be while still having an emergency stash of medical supplies and gear. Its autopilot (which had just done a fine job of embarrassing him) was a little sluggish but that was mostly because it was set to be as cautious as it possibly could be, as to avoid unwanted accidents caused by a driverless motorbike. The best feature, and the one that would come in most useful now, was that Lucius Fox had done his level best to make it every bit as well armoured as the Batmobile.

So when Harley brandished her bat at the bike in a threatening manner, Dick just leaned on the bike's seat and grinned. "To be honest Harl, I'd put my money on the bat breaking first, this old thing doesn't take a scratch."

“Easy! Easy! I ain't gonna smash your toy, well, not with my bat anyway.. But you neva kno what otha things might happen.. Unlike you, I like livin on the wild side.. You letting me drive it right? I think if you let me drive it, it'll work just fine..” was another good line though he had to give her the benefit of ignorance there. After all, Harley could hardly know that nobody but nobody drove Dick's bike apart from him. As a genuinely accommodating guy who did his best to make others comfortable and put them at their ease, there weren't many things he held firm on. He'd let people stay in his bed while he took the couch, stitch their wounds before his and make a guest breakfast before fixing some for himself. But his bike? Sacred ground.

Straddling it and reverentially putting one hand on the handlebar, he shook his head regretfully at Harley. "'Fraid not, I'll just have to make it work without you driving. Now, you still haven't given me an address..."
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Despite her undying effort to get make the former boy wonder blunder, Dick's ego seemed almost entirely untouched. He held his ground, even when she threatened to make a scene for the sole sake of trying to fluster him up. Whether she liked to admit it or not, Harley had to hand it to him that he took more then she thought he would before they found themselves butting heads over the classical inevitability that had always led them to conflict.

Was this the same Robin she remembered? For a minute, she actually felt doubtful of the comparison. Nightwing had clearly come along way, much more then herself since the first time she had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him. At least one of you is moving up in the world..- Ugh! Envying Nightwing? What the hell!? That damaged side of Harley felt near ravaged by the idea of ever even so much as considering feeling envy for the like this particular person. It could have been anyone, anyone else.. but noo it had to be Night-brain!

Her pessimism broke through yet again, shattering any former display of complacent joy that still lingered on her lips. Harley slowly felt her mood sink into absolute tragic boredom. Trying to get a kick out of rattling up Nightwing really hadn't been going the way she wanted it to. When did anything ever go the way she wanted it to? With a subduing sign she'd give in, as she'd watch Dick move to his bike and lean on the seat.

"To be honest Harl, I'd put my money on the bat breaking first, this old thing doesn't take a scratch."


Even if she wanted to smash the bike, apparently she wouldn't have that luxury either. Being ensnared in a lose-lose situation hadn't exactly motivated her to continue with her childish antics, at least in the way she had been trying to pursue them anyway. She'd have to be more clever then that, take some time to consider what she could do, or say, to really get under his skin. In the mean time she could just shove off his attempts to get in her own head. Like he'd get far.. If there was one thing Night-brain isn't, it was someone who could ever understand her.. Or so she thought, not making much else of the matter.

Harley's grip on the bat tightened, before she'd pout a averting expression back to Nightwing. “You wanna put that theory to the test, or do you wanna smash some unfunny clowns? Which you prefer?” She let the question hang with the intention of mocking him with the information he'd only request of her, moments later.

Straddling it and reverentially putting one hand on the handlebar, he shook his head regretfully at Harley. "'Fraid not, I'll just have to make it work without you driving. Now, you still haven't given me an address..."


Harley only huffed in a pretentious extinguish to the idea of Nightwing shooting down her kind request to take his bike for a spin. Realistically it was a pretty stupid question to ask, but it wasn't like Harley ever turned down the chance for fun compacted with all the dangerous thrill that might come with it, upon having it literally drive up behind her and almost invite her to the challenge. Maybe she'd find a way yet to take his bike out for a spin, but for now, she just had to try and forget about it.

“What if I's told ya I had my motoring license? Would ya let me take it for a spin then?” She asked, trying to take one last jab at the idea of overruling Nightwing's former rejection to the idea of her driving his special bike. She even went as far as to bat her eye lashes in all matter of innocent exchange to the idea of deeming herself purely harmless, to the state of whatever might happen to the bike if he did. The answer was probably still no, but it was always like Harley Quinn to speak her mind. Even if that meant nobody wanted to hear anything she said, or just straight tune out of her rather squealing frequency.

Eventually she let the matter go, only because she intended to come back to it later. She'd take that beauty out for a ride yet and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.. Dick's comment about more serious stuff sort of jogged back her attention into the thoughts of the present and her vengeful crusade. His question felt like an understate of one, considering Harley knew there was probably a dozen places Joker could be hiding, not to mention rat holes for his men to be infesting. The real question was where the best place would be to start.

Pondering on the idea of where might be best to look first, only forced Harley to conclude to a much more deleterious conclusion. “Old Gotham.. there's a little place between Crime Alley and Amusement mile..” She started giving him his answer, only to swing the honesty of it into a much more intricate answer. Harley had something devious up her sleeve, something that could very well make or break this delicate partnership she had, but she needed to take a chance. She needed to prove to whoever Nightwing was, that this wasn't the same old Harley Quinn talking to him that he probably saw as some helpless dame that was just destined to make him see the worst in her. “Joka always loved the old amusement park there, you kno, the one he turned into a labyrinth of twisted little fun houses in his honor.. You's rememba what it's like ova there don't ya? Can't say I've seen you in the last little while so, dunno if you even snoop around Gotham much anymore, unless your just here for your precious B-man and his perilous situation.. Frankly I dun care.. That's Joka's old turf that area is, you outta expect bigger opposition with bigger artillery there.. Dunno if ya little sticks will do ya much good..” She teased, before moving closer to the bike and gently dragging her finger along the mint condition of the one of the handle bars.

Harley's eyes diverted from the bike in a brief analysis and up to Nightwing. This was probably the closest she had got to him all night. Part of her wanted to appease her curiosity in discovering who the man behind the mask that had given her so much displeasure back in the early days of her playing side kick to Joker's mad crusade, really was beneath. Normally she might even try to pry at it, continue in her annoying little commitment to try to figure out who Nightwing was and how he worked, but she felt she had done enough fraternizing of the man who had just saved her from an unexpected tricky situation, at least for now. This wasn't some form of gratitude right?

“Then again, you have me and that's a little sumthing sumthing Joka's crew don't got no more.. I can point out where the place is, considerin it's unmarked, nearly invisible unless you know where and how to find it, but you gotta promise you'll let me have my fun with Joka's boys once we find em.. This is a personal matta, more personal then me trying to continue disliking you..” She finished, almost flaunting herself in front of him, with her weird little decree of stating something she probably would have much rather preferred to keep to herself, locked away, buried, deep beneath the sins of a former mad jester who once promised herself she do anything for mad love. This was the first time she had ever looked at Nightwing as more then just an enemy and the more she found herself compelled to stare back, the more she felt like she hardly knew him at all.

Once she finished in her terms of engagement, Harley leaned over gently against the handle bars, trying to prevent Dick from even thinking about taking off without her. “Oh and there's one anotha tiny thing.. If ya won't let me ride ya bike, then will ya at least let me be your riding bitch.. I promise I won't touch nothin, not unless there's a big red button that pops up on the dashboard n says don't press this..” Odd how Harley' tone almost became seductive the longer her request to ride anywhere on the bike became apparent. She'd return a coy smile, awaiting his answer, never moving her elbow from her rest against the handle bars.
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Innocent face and motoring license or not, Dick remained unmoved by Harely's protestations and maintained his seat on the bike. It would take more than a few batted eyelashes and a lack of assaulting him (yet) to persuade him to alter his sole-rider policy. Instead, he simply kept up a pleasant smile until she volunteered something useful.

Eventually, she got to it. "Old Gotham.. there's a little place between Crime Alley and Amusement mile..” It sounded plausible, maybe even familiar. The Joker certainly had always had a fondness for the area and his crew did often pack considerably more dangerous and heavy weaponry than their rivals in other villains gangs, with the possible exception of Cobblepot. The clown prince of crime had an exceptional talent at getting his gloved hands on things that go boom or bang, matched only by his willingness, no, eagerness to use them.

Still, Dick would feel completely confident going into to combat them if he were on his own. His preferred method of entry would be stealthy and unnoticed, allowing him to pick apart whatever defences existed at his leisure and without revealing himself or giving the thugs an opportunity to shoot at him. Yet, somehow, he wasn't sure that strategy would be quite Harley's style. "I've got plenty of faith in my 'little sticks' thanks. I'm more concerned about how to go in quietly. When was the last time you entered a building by stealth, Harley?" Dick could guess the answer.

Harley was not, of course, finished. “Then again, you have me and that's a little sumthing sumthing Joka's crew don't got no more.. I can point out where the place is, considerin it's unmarked, nearly invisible unless you know where and how to find it, but you gotta promise you'll let me have my fun with Joka's boys once we find em.. This is a personal matta, more personal then me trying to continue disliking you..”

With an expression of insincere sincerity, he nodded. "I know, I know; it's hard to keep up disliking me, I've heard thst before. But so long as your fun doesn't include death, permanent scarring or crippling, I can work with that. How do you intend for us to get in though?"

As their planning drew to a close, Dick realised Harely had planted herself in front of the bike, almost as though she was trying to stop him from leaving. It took him a couple of moments to realise she was worried he'd leave without her, given that the thought hadn't even crossed his mind.“Oh and there's one anotha tiny thing.. If ya won't let me ride ya bike, then will ya at least let me be your riding bitch. she said, her voice husky and inviting. Not afraid of a good innuendo (something that baffled and occasionally irritated his father and youngest brother), Dick chuckled and nodded his head backwards at the bike's expansive seat.

"Make yourself comfortable, though I'm not sure that's the politically correct term for a pillion passenger."
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Apparently she was getting somewhere with him. To be completely honest Harley didn't really know what she did right, but it was obvious she were slowly figuring out how her contrasting new counterpart, preferred to be productive. Of course Dick was never short of his own commitment to rectifying his own personality, but she were already well aware of that by now. That was something they apparently both had in common. Like the butting of two individuals that both had the same inevitable goal. It were safe to say that their reason for everything that had taken place so far would be enough to maintain the loose terms of their partnership. Or at least for now anyway..

"I've got plenty of faith in my 'little sticks' thanks. I'm more concerned about how to go in quietly. When was the last time you entered a building by stealth, Harley?"


Dick made no shame about his preferred approach. Sneaking up on people was somewhat of a profession of Batmen, or former side-kicks of people baring likeness to that sort of person. That's just how Nightwing preferred to play ball, even if she probably hadn't even considered ever dipping into the more silent and clean ways of getting things done. Harley Quinn didn't work like that. Harley Quinn liked to make noise and she liked to be seen when she was doing it. Thus came the dilemma of knowing that even if she wanted to comply with Nightwing's techniques, she wouldn't be very good at it. That was going to be a problem.

Harley pondered on the idea of trying to envision what a tag team up with Nightwing might look like in her mind, while sort of losing track of the solemnity of the situation. There she was at the door, gun in hand.. There he was sneaking around.. probably using vents or something to get in.. She opened the door.. Joka's boys went all gawk eyed at the sight of her alive and well and then- BANG! Everything went to hell the minute she pulled the trigger.. Night-brain dived in, using her distraction.. Yeah that's what it was gonna be like and then-! Harley's amusement in visualizing every little grim detail of the mess she made in that fantasy, like a troubled child infatuated with the idea of causing trouble, really began to leak onto her face and cause her to smile in woeful pleasure. Another moment of star gazing at the roof tops above, brought her attention back down to Nightwing in front of her. She had a plan, but he probably wouldn't like it.. because her plans kinda sucked honestly.


“Neva.. unless putting my hands ova my eyes counts, while pretending im one of you NIGHT-CREEPS.. Hey, what I do on my own spare time ain't any of your damn business. Harley shrugged, convey a look of anything but concern before continuing forth with her little speech. Stealth is hardly a fittin quality of my good character.. That's your job, your the one who sneaks around and gets the drop on people.. Me, im much more of a professional at causing distractions.. So im thinking were gonna have to work togetha.. Yeah I know, me makin things easier for you.. Times are really changing aren't they..” Harley teased her plan, not getting into the main details of it right away. If she told him about those they'd probably be stuck there forever trying to come to some inevitable conclusion of a plan they'd never both agree to. The mere thought of it caused her former excitement to almost completely flounder.

With an expression of insincere sincerity, he nodded. "I know, I know; it's hard to keep up disliking me, I've heard that before. But so long as your fun doesn't include death, permanent scarring or crippling, I can work with that. How do you intend for us to get in though?"


Harley only felt a bit rejoiced by the idea of knowing Nightwing wasn't going to let her get too violent, as much as she'd prefer to make this a big mess. He could certainly try, but sometimes accidents happened.. A gentle snicker expelled from her lips, as she felt overwhelmed by the desire to grin, given what he declared. “Don't flatter yourself Bird-brain, you haven't heard it from me before.. But that's besides the point, right now we have a common goal.. That makes us, frien-! Uh, colleagues.. And how we both wanna tackle that goal is a little provin a little troublin.. See unlike you's im a much more adaptive fighta.. Which makes me unpredictable.. How many times have I pulled the gun on ya in the past? Made ya drop your guard cause ya thought you's had me all figured out? It's called SURPRISE Night-brain! And it works wonda's when you know really know how to use it! Let's just say im gonna give Joka and his boys the biggest surprise of their life he..he ” Harley felt accomplished in trying to educate Nightwing further about Harley Quinn-fu, even if that was really only half the plan. She'd need him doing what he did best to make sure nothing bad happened. “So long as they don't get back up, there's no need to knock em back down a second time I suppose.. You betta not hold your punches, or we may have a real crisis on our hands.. When I play whack a mole, I dun like to lose.. That just means ya can't hold back. Maybe you knowing I'll be storming in the front door all by my merry little self screaming profound things, might help jog your own motivation to address the situation yer own way.. Just let me do the talkin and do the sneakin.” Or that was the rougher idea of her plan anyway. For a minute she waited for Dick to confirm her request, to ride as a passenger on the bike. To her surprise, he gave her permission to ride pillion, of course doing so while readdressing her choice of wording of the particular term.

"Make yourself comfortable, though I'm not sure that's the politically correct term for a pillion passenger."


There wasn't any arguing with that. Harley only felt a gentle smile peak to the corners of her lips, before she'd swing herself in place behind Dick and ready herself for the ride ahead. She brought her lips close to the brim of his ear once she felt comfortably seated and continued further with frolicking with the situation, just for fun. “You think I don't know what the politically correct term is? When have I ever been politically correct with you's? And why would I start now..?” It was an odd statement, but a fair one that seemed to support the idea of Harley Quinn having a pretty shallow record in being anything but appropriate. “Ya forget who your talking to? Then again I guess you would, since this is really one of the first times we've ever seemed to have a meaningful conversation..” At the conclusion of those words Harley's arms would easily reach out and grab hold of Nightwing, purposely fondling his abs a bit. A light coo seemed to sing at the presentation of a satisfied grin. “Don't mind if I do.. Put the peddle to metal Bird-brain!”
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Barrett Oh, the year was 1778...

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In all honestly, Harley's plan seemed like a decent one. She would make some sort of nuisance of herself to distract the guards, allowing Dick to sneak in without any obstacles and eliminate some of the more dangerous hostiles without much trouble. So long as she avoided blowing herself or anyone else up, Dick couldn't see any way for Harley to seriously maim or kill anyone. Which was a stroke of luck, he'd been anticipating more requests for the return of her gun or even having to drag her away from wounded foes so she wouldn't beat them to death with her bet. It seemed that she was even willing to forgo causing serious injuries though, something she'd done with apparent glee in previous years. Maybe this whole new leaf thing is real after all... Dick's optimism was always present but his sensible side told him he should probably at least see her in action before jumping to conclusions.

“Ya forget who your talking to? Then again I guess you would, since this is really one of the first times we've ever seemed to have a meaningful conversation..” said Harley, swinging herself in behind him and taking a liberal grip on the moulded polymer of his suit. She seemed to be trying to run her fingers across his acrobat's abs, something that was a little difficult while he wore a suit designed to stop gunshots and stabbings. Still, she seemed satisfied and made a sound like cat purring. He had to forcibly shut down the part of his brain that immediately conjured images of Selina. And then the part that brought up memories of him and Babs riding like this.

“Don't mind if I do.. Put the peddle to metal Bird-brain!” As Dick's brain was now partially deactivated, he obeyed without question, revving the engine once for the hell of it and then setting off at a tire scorching pace towards Amusement mile. He took a few bends at breakneck speed before slowing his pace slightly as they moved through the busier areas of the city. It wouldn't look good if they crashed and Dick had to explain to some of GCPD's finest why he was giving Harley Quin a lift towards one of Joker's bases.

As something to do, Dick turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder "When we get close, we'll stop a few streets away to stash the bike and then approach separately, okay?"
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Blissy ~ Princess Loony-Loon.

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Fondling Nightwing's ab's wasn't something she had got to do in a while, not like she got too much meat of them anyway. Everyone of the Batman's protege's came prepared, very prepared in fact to deal with things that were far more menacing then the shallow groping of a one Harley Quinn's menacing fingers. It wasn't so much the feeling that mattered, as it were the act of knowing she were more then likely crossing forbidden territory and leaving her redolent advances in Dick's conscience. She wasn't no Bat-girl or whoever it was that used to have the luxury of riding pillion to him.. This was Harley Quinn on the back of his bike.. and she was just getting started with making her new position a lot more comfortable..

“Do you rememba what it was like the last time I did that? Was coiled around ya like a snake.. I bet it feels a bit betta to have it done with your consent doesn't it? Not like I can get much of a grip anyway..” She teased before the bike accelerated at the exclaim of a loud revving, before taking them speeding off into Gotham's streets. Harley didn't expect an answer, but passing up the opportunity to remind Nightwing of what their first little confrontation with each other was like, was just too good to ignore.

The speed of the bike kicked into what Harley could consider satisfying throttle. She felt amused with the take of Nightwing's acceleration of the vehicle and the thrill it caused her to feel almost liberated by. For once in her life she wasn't speeding away from trouble but instead soaring towards it with any concern for having that trouble prevented, wrapped around the tight hugging grasp of her arms. When would something like this ever happen again? Would something like this every happen again at all? Harley went to work in trying to decrypt a question she had never found herself puzzled by until this particular night and the circumstances that had caused it to turn into something she could hardly admit she'd ever be ready for. Whatever the answer, Harley only felt overwhelmed by a sense of euphoric that actually made her feel hopeful when it came to working towards a change, she had long only wished she could pursue.

“WEEEEEEE!” A wide smile and pleasant eagerness reflected the loud squeal, the faster and faster they went, as she'd shift the idea of trying to understand her feelings and where they came from in the particular spur of that moment.

For a while Harley doubted the unexpected thrill of the situation might last forever, her mood and entitlement to show compliance, seeming to only project her desire to try and work as well as she could with her new partner. That was up until they started to slow down anyway and she started to lose her grip on that sense of exhilarating adrenaline and favor for her new partners certain annoying persistence, to the presence of bystanders.

Nightwing's direction on maintaining speed seemed to falter to anything but acceptable limits the minute they started hitting the busier sides of Gotham's streets, where people still roamed about their own private nightly business. Harley's grip slipped and then tightened around the muscularity of Dick's form, before she'd slowly poke her chin over the side of his shoulder, near brushing the end of her chin against the fabric of his suit. Hearing Dick's statement about stashing the bike and moving on foot, flew right over her head.

As something to do, Dick turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder "When we get close, we'll stop a few streets away to stash the bike and then approach separately, okay?"


“Yea yea.. Go fasta okay.. Im gettin bored.. You bein all careful cuz there's a couple of average joes around is really killin my mood..” She announced, as if that was any of Dick's primary concern. To her it mattered more then he knew. Harley felt her mood slowly wallop from her lack of amusement, as her eyes began to project a rather devious glint about them as she'd stare only at the fancy dash of the bike and ignore Nightwing's peak over his shoulder. She looke determine to solve her little problem, that same problem she were about to make clear as day to her new partner. “Oh come on.. just let me press a couple buttons of dem shiny buttons on the dash-” She didn't request to do it this time as one of her hands carefully slid away from her grip around Nightwing's waist and she'd slowly try to poke over at the dashboard.. “Which one makes this thing go full turbo.. You's got a full turbo button right?! I seen what B-man's car can do enough times, don't try n tell me this little beauty cant do the same..”.
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Barrett Oh, the year was 1778...

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Over the roar of the air, Dick heard Harley talking to him. “Do you rememba what it was like the last time I did that? Was coiled around ya like a snake.. I bet it feels a bit betta to have it done with your consent doesn't it? Not like I can get much of a grip anyway..” He smiled ruefully as he too let his mind drift back to one of the many times they'd tussled on behalf of their respective mentors.

"It sure does. For a gymnastic psychiatrist, you sure know how to give a guy a run for his money or, should I say, a hard time" replied Dick. They seemed to be losing most of Gotham's traffic now, pulling away into the meaner streets of her dark underbelly. Cars only came here if they were too cheap or too feared to steal, the property of lowlifes, mobsters or both. The law often turned a blind side to Gotham's uglier districts too, preferring to only venture in when they were sure the city's costumed vigilantes had incapacitated any criminals for them. Even after all these years, it disheartened Dick to see sections of his city in such disrepair and so abandoned by the boys in blue. Maybe Harley and the other villains were right when they called it an unending crusade, a fight with no end.

His passenger did not seem to share his somber mood, however, and was currently reaching under his arm to experimentally jab at buttons on the dash. Half a second before she jammed down the front grappling hook (for latching onto cars ahead), Dick took one hand of the handlebars to avert disaster. “Oh come on.. just let me press a couple buttons of dem shiny buttons on the dash-” It was funny, he mused, how her irrepressible attitude seemed much, much less annoying when she was working with him and not against him. It was just like Stephanie, or Tim or even Jason...

“Which one makes this thing go full turbo.. You's got a full turbo button right?! I seen what B-man's car can do enough times, don't try n tell me this little beauty cant do the same..”.

He shook his head and said "Give me a few moments to find us a straighter stretch and I'll show you what this beauty can do." With that, he jinked around a few corners and came to screeching halt at the head of a long deserted stretch of road.

"Press it on three."

Dick revved the engine and started off at a good speed. This section of the road ran through some of Gotham's many neighbour hoods of partially abandoned warehouses and industrial buildings. There were only rats and beggars to see him humour Harley.

"One..."

Well, okay, fine, not just Harley. He so rarely got a chance to play with his motorbike that this was almost as much for him as it was for her.

"Two..."

And he knew what was waiting at the end of this road, a little memento from his rowdier days. He remembered stealing the Batmobile and taking it down this straight. Good times...

"Three!"

Harley pushed down the button and the engines gave an ecstatic roar of enthusiasm. The whole bike lurched as its speed went from respectable to utterly insane in the space of handful of seconds, jerking both of them backwards. Dick was suddenly even more glad of Harley's... friendly grip, as it stopped her from shooting off over the back wheel. As it was, they pelted down the road at an eye-wateringly high speed that blotted out all sound other than the cacophony of the engine and the squeal of the tires.

And all too soon, the end of the road. And, of course, the surprise. Some long forgotten hero of a Gothamite had once rigged a large series of planks and metal spars together into a respectable ramp, one now used by hundreds of devil may care bikers, drivers and teens had used since. On one memorable occasion, Dick had used the long road to build up speed in Bruce's precious Batmobile and shot over the ramp so fast he'd accidentally triggered the vehicle's propulsion capabilities. It'd been the first time he'd felt like he was flying since that night at Hailey's circus...

Not the time for reminiscence though, this wouldn't be easy with two passenger. He went to say a reassuring word to Harley but it was lost in the slipstream. But when they went over the edge of the ramp, he heard her screaming, either in terror or exaltation. If he knew her at all, probably the latter. The tricky bit was landing it on the follow up ramp but Dick wasn't worried. Even if his skills weren't up to the task, he knew Harley's reflexes were like a cat's. She'd land rightside up, even if the bike didn't.

He needn't have fretted, however, as she leaned her weight forwards at just the right time to make the landing as smooth as possible. They still came down hard but not roughly enoguh to throw them off or even call for a significant slow down period. Instead, Dick revved engine and gunned on to Amusement Mile, an exuberant grin plastered over his face. Who's the wild one now?
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