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English
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Livia's Fanfiction
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Published:
2004-02-04
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915
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1/1
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Brass Ring

Summary:

Post-Harley's Holiday, Harley gets invited on another adventure.

Notes:

There is a podfic of this story available here, read by Reena Jenkins.

Work Text:

She has her papers tucked carefully in her suitcase. She has her winter coat and her asylum shoes, white with velcro fasteners and already getting grimy ten steps out of the gate. She doesn't really believe that this is a new beginning. The more things change, the more they stay the same, and there's no such thing as a new life, not for a girl like her. Just circles and rhymes, like a merry-go-round, the same cycle over and over again.

She should feel good about getting out so soon after her last... incident. But it wasn't her fault! Even Batman thought so. Had to. Otherwise he wouldn't have brought her that pink dress she'd been trying to buy at the store. She smiles a little at the thought of it, hugging her suitcase. Who knew the Batman could be a Batmensch? But even that thought-- even the memory of that surprisingly yum-yum-eat-'em-up-good thank-you smooch-- well, it can't quite cheer her up.

It was fun. Who knew Batman could kiss? But it was just another turn on the wheel, another spin in the cycle, an up before the next down. Harley's sane and free and standing in the sunshine, and she can hear the tick-tick-tick of the roller-coaster as it reaches the top of the curve.

When she was sick, she didn't know how sick she was. But she tried so hard this time, and she can really see it now, when she squints. She can see the life where she doesn't go back... and she can see just how far away it is from where she is now. Distant like Gotham just over the hill. It's not a city where anyone can be sane. She remembers the bruises from the last time they brought her back here. She rubs a hand over a chafed wrist. She can feel how much it's going to hurt when they drag her back again.

There's a glossy towncar parked across the street from the bus stop, and Harley eyes it curiously for a moment before setting her suitcase down. The kind of people who go for that kind of fancy ride, like Ozzie or Selina, usually get sent up to Blackgate, not Arkham.

As she watches, a graying chauffeur slides out of the drivers' seat and approaches her. She blinks and startles when he reaches for her suitcase. "If you'll allow me, Miss Quinzel."

"I-- You musta got me confused-- or you must be confused-- I didn't order a limo."

The chauffeur considers her for a long moment. "If you'll allow me to explain, Miss Quinzel," he says calmly. "I work for Mr. Bruce Wayne, and he's requested your company for dinner tonight."

She tries not to look confused, but it probably doesn't come off well. This is why it's hard to walk a straight line, she thinks irritably. Can't juggle life when it keeps throwing you curve balls. "Why... why would he wanna see me again? Last time we ran into each other I hit him with a dummy arm and kidnapped his girlfriend."

The chauffeur tugs at the suitcase, but Harley hangs on stubbornly. He smiles. "As you well know, Miss Vreeland spoke quite eloquently in your defense to the police and to the Arkham board. It's clear to all involved that your last... infraction was really more of a misunderstanding. Including Master Bruce, who, you may or may not be interested to know, has not been romantically involved with Miss Vreeland for some months."

She lets go of the suitcase, surprised, and he turns away, carrying it towards the towncar and putting it in the trunk. "Hey, I-- I didn't say I was gonna go! Now wait a minute! If this is some kinda--"

"It's only dinner, Miss Quinzel." He shuts the trunk and opens the passenger door. "Master Bruce... understands the difficulties that can come with new beginnings."

Harley frowns, digging the toe of her tennis shoe into the dirt. Why did the sane girl cross the road? Why did the same girl keep coming back to Arkham? It's one of those jokes, like the one about the one-legged-jockey, that's never gonna have a punchline.

"Master Bruce has made reservations at Kane's. If you'd like, we can stop in town and pick up something appropriate for a semi-formal evening..."

"No," she says, testing it out. Seeing how it sounds. The chauffeur waits, eyebrows raised, and finally she giggles and bounces forward, sliding into the limo's back seat. "No, I've got a dress."

She wonders if Wayne likes pink. She drums her feet against the floor in anticipation. Kane's! She's never been there before, not even to rob it or prank it or-- wow. This is gonna be good.

"Oh, oh!" She raps on the glass as the chauffeur slides into his seat. "Hey, can we-- Hey, what's your name?"

The intercom clicks on. "Alfred, Miss."

"Well, we are gonna need to make a stop, Alf." She beams, leaning back against the cushy leather, and toes off the asylum-issue tennies, letting them fall to the floor with a thump. "Shoe store, 'kay? And then someplace we can get my hair done. You don't even wanna know what the Arkham water does to a bleach blonde."

"I imagine not, Miss."

She giggles as the intercom clicks off. This may not be a new start. It may just be a higher climb before a bigger fall.

But hot diggity damn. While it lasts? It's gonna be fun.