Author: Cold Nostalgia
Prompt: 7. Diligence
Word Count: 633
Disclaimer: Don’t own. No Profit. Don’t Sue.
Author's Notes: Set during No Man’s Land and Harley Quinn #1
They fell apart, the dark stillness of the room once again punctuated by the occasional gasp for much needed oxygen.
Ivy stretched out on the bed smugly and absent-mindedly arranged the sweaty sheets around herself. The seduction of her new ally had gone even better than she’d hoped for; nary a lipstick, or special perfume, or particular type of pollen had been needed to entice the clown girl between the sheets.
Of course, given who she was it wasn’t uncommon that she didn’t need a little extra insurance all the time, but all the same, it did make her triumphs all the more sweeter.
With a contented sigh, Ivy rolled over to face her latest conquest. With a few changes here and there, Ivy foresaw herself hanging on to the clown for quite a while yet. Certainly there were a few things running against the young woman, such as her former profession and her now very former obsession with Joker.
However, in Ivy’s mind, the girl had far more going for her. Harley was an able athlete, could follow orders down to the letter, the orphans adored her, she made Ivy laugh, and perhaps most importantly, Harley was no slouch when it came to fulfilling Ivy’s more intimate needs. Yes, having Harley around would certainly be a boon – for a little while longer at least.
Ivy grinned wickedly and propped herself up on her elbow, lazily twirling a red strand of hair around her finger. It was a given that Harley’s obsessive tendencies with Joker would transfer over to her now, and as tempting as the idea of having a personal worshiper was, she could only hope that the new patterns in Harley’s behaviour wouldn’t be too distracting or disrupting. It would be such a shame to have to get rid of her so quickly.
“Well,” Ivy said in her most sultry tone. “Do you feel better now?”
Bright baby blue eyes gazed deeply into her own. Ivy’s grin grew wider as she prepared herself for forthcoming declarations of love, devotion and never-ending servitude.
Ivy blinked, not sure she heard right.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Harley said quickly, careful not to offend her host. “This was great; you’re a pal and a half, Ivy.” She sat upright and frowned. “It’s just this situation with Mistah J has got me all blue, that’s all.”
“Pal and a half,” Ivy echoed, unable to process just what was happening.
“And then some,” Harley offered, glancing at the clock. “Sheesh, will ya look at that, Friends is about ta start.”
“Friends?” Ivy repeated dumbly, starting to wonder if she’d perhaps fallen into some bizarre parallel universe where it was possible for someone with her numerous qualities to be rejected in such an indelicate fashion. Why the hell wasn’t Harley worshipping her already?
“Yup,” Harley answered, starting to dress. “It’s one of my favourite shows, I never miss an episode.”
Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but no sound was forthcoming. She, the most desirable woman on the face of the planet, was being casually cast aside for a sitcom? There were no words, no words at all.
“D’ya want anything from the kitchen while I’m up?”
“No,” Ivy managed. “No thank you, Harley. I’m fine for the moment.”
“Alright, see ya in a bit.”
Harley finished dressing and disappeared down the hall leaving a shell-shocked Ivy in her wake. In all her years, she’d never...ever…
Swallowing her shock and horror, Ivy replayed the last few hours in her head. Perhaps she’d missed something, gone wrong somewhere, improbable as it was.
With cleansing breaths she calmed herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever made a mistake in the realm of love and seduction, whatever it was.
She’d just have to try harder next time.
Title: Rinse and Repeat
Author: Cold Nostalgia
Disclaimer: Don’t own. No Profit. Don’t Sue
Word count: 116
Summary: The door opened before she even had a chance to knock.
The door opens before Harley has a chance to raise her wounded hand to knock. She doesn’t need to say a word as patient hands and saddened eyes gently guide her to an illuminated warm kitchen.
An assortment of bandages and various ointments lay scattered haphazardly across the table, betraying the mood of her host. Oily balms cool fiery skin; tight dressings stop the bleeding, kind, experienced words soothe some hurt but don’t stop the pain completely.
Harley doesn’t understand why Ivy continues this ritual after everyone else turned away. She doesn’t want to see what deep down she already knows.
It’s easier to put Ivy’s actions down to simple kindness. Something that’s possible to repay.