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Harley's fingers are clasped around the slushee she's slurping. Loudly. To drown out the inevitable protests.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Ivy says, as calmly but empathetically as she can.
Harley kicks up her feet under the table, narrowly missing her girlfriends' knees.
"Why not?" Selina chips in, lacquered nails flashing in the afternoon sunlight. They've all agreed to meet at Ivy's favourite café because it's a neutral ground. And because Ivy won't go anywhere that doesn't serve organically sourced meals and drinks. "I say let her have some fun if that's what she wants."
"You don't know that it will be fun," Ivy replies.
"Please, this is Harley we're talking about. Of course she'll make it fun. Fun for her, at the very least."
"It's going to end badly, and I don't want to imagine what the fallout will be."
Selina reaches over the table to place her hand atop Ivy's. "You're worried, I get it. But at some point you've got to let our girl make her own decisions. And this is what she has chosen."
"Still..." Selina's confidence fails to have an effect on Ivy. "She wanted to turn over a new leaf. I'm not sure if associating with someone from... our former circles is helpful in that regard."
"Honey, don't you think that would disqualify us, too? And yet we're still her friends."
Ivy mulls this over, although she doesn't seem convinced. Selina only uses the word 'friends' when she wants something, like a bargaining chip. "He is demeaning and no better than the clown."
Selina waves her off. "He's harmless. Besides, if he tries anything, Harley can tie him in a knot and carry him to the police herself. And if he can't curb his giant ego – or, you know, all that nonsense that comes unfiltered out of his mouth – well, I'll give him a tongue-lashing he won't soon forget."
Harley is sucking air through her straw by now, and if she sucks any harder there might be a hole in the bottom of her cup. Which would be an accomplishment, given that it's made out of bamboo.
"I'm not actually asking for permission, ya know," Harley says cheerfully and sets her cup down with a clack.
That's the whole reason she called her partners in, well, not-crime-anymore together. They have a penchant for overreacting over small matters and of misinterpreting things just because that means more drama – Harley understands, it's fun to do that! – and she'd really rather not be caught in the middle.
"I'm going to date him with or without it, but it'd mean a lot to me if you were at least okay with this whole thing. At least okay enough not to come crashing date night because you thought he'd kidnapped me or something. I mean, on top of Batman, who's probably gonna be checing that we don't get up to anything sketchy."
The innocently pointed look Harley has been giving Ivy is not lost on Selina, who laughs out loud.
"Honey, I wish you two all the best," Selina says once she has regained her composure. "If anyone can rein in that man, it's you. And if you need anyone to rein her —" nodding at Ivy "—in while you teach him some manners, you know where to find me."
"Does that mean I have your blessing?" Harley beams, more at Ivy than at Selina, who has made her position clear.
"Fine." Ivy leans back and crosses her arms beneath her bosom. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
"I would never," Harley says but her fingers are already crossed behind her back.
Not that she thinks she's going to need it. Sure, more enthusiasm about this new chapter in her life would have been welcome, but grudging acceptance from Ivy will do. It's almost the same from her, anyway.
But here's what's important: she likes Eddie. And – equally important or maybe even more so, given her track record – he likes her back. And it's not even her own infatuation talking. No. Selina always used to warn her about Mr. J, but with Eddie, she's been teasing Harley about his crush on her before Harley was even ready to see it. Ah, kitty cat. She's always been in her corner, even when she's robbing her blind.
So Harley has a good feeling about this. Eddie might also be a sociopathic narcissist who is obsessed with Batman, just like the last man in her life (maybe Harley ought to have a good look at her type), but at least he's also obsessed with her.
That's good enough for a start.
+++
Harley gets home later than she said she would, but she's never been much for keeping time anyway. That's Clock King's shtick. Gotta leave some things to the guys who're good at it. Harley, she's good at clobbering things, though she ain't done much clobbering of late. Doesn't really fit with the goody two shoes image she's gotta uphold if she wants to stay out of trouble with the law and consequently out of prison. She is trying to build a life now, you know.
In any case, Eddie knows how much she's not a punctual gal and he knows better than to wait up or around for her. She comes and goes as she pleases, free like the wind.
So when she finds the card on the table she naturally assumes he's gone already but that doesn't stop her from calling out to him anyway.
"Eddie, sweetie, what is this?"
There is no answer as she picks up the card, not that she expected one. The card's a folded piece of fancy paper and it's got her name on it in super flowery cursive script. Eddie must have taken calligraphy lessons for this one.
But the card's not the important bit. (She's pretty sure it has a riddle on the other side cleverly hinting at the occasion for all this, but she ain't interested.) It's what was hidden beneath it.
"They're keychains."
Harley startles to hear Eddie's soft voice. He's lucky she didn't papercut his throat with the edge of the card. "Keychains?" She's confused. For once, he did not use his condescending tone of voice that's always just dripping with superiority.
"You are obviously aware of what keychains are for," he says and even that doesn't sound offensive. If Harley didn't know him any better (and, well, let's be frank – or maybe not frank, the last Frank Harley knew was a piece of work – she doesn't really know him all that much, not yet), she'd say he may be... nervous? Unsure? Something like that. But no, that can't be. Way out of character for Riddles, here. "Which mean you don't like them."
"Don't like them? They're the cutest thing ever!"
She picks one of them up. It's a cartoonified plushie of a hyena, barely the size of her palm, with big, round eyes, a little velvety tongue poking out from where its mouth should be, and a fluffy mane on its head that she can't stop herself from running her fingers over. It's so much softer than she would have expected from a souvenir like this.
"I thought that since you had to leave your hyenas at the Gotham Zoo, you might enjoy something to remind yourself of them when you can't go to see them..."
That's... wow. "Are you trying to say I'm not thinking about my babies enough?"
"Of course I didn't mean to imply any such thing!"
"I'm just teasing ya!" she says and yanks Eddie closer by his lapels. "Come here, you silly, great man!"
She kisses the silly man even sillier. Who'd've thunk Eddie was capable of thoughtful gifts – well, thoughtful in the sense that everyone else means when they think of the word, not whatever brainteaser Eddie thinks of when he uses it.
This relationship of theirs, it's been strange in origin.
It all started out as more or less of a drunken revenge plot against Mr. J. She can barely remember the circumstances surrounding it, maybe it had something to do with Arnie getting a job. He's a sweet old man when Scarface ain't around and deserves a chance.
Once Eddie got his liquor on, he's practically been flirting with her all night – which she ignored, of course, because boys are stupid, especially when they're buzzed. Problem was that she fares even worse under the influence. Hah, what a weird phrase even. "Under the influence" – yeah, she's been under the influence of a lot of things. And a lot of people.
Her attitude changed when Riddles stopped trying so hard and reverted to a sad drunk. Much easier to deal with than these aggravatingly smarmy types. Said he'd always wanted to steal the Joker's girl from him. Harley was about to bristle that ain't his girl anymore and there would have been no stealing of her because she's not a goddamn property, but he mumbled on. Said Joker shouldn't have been allowed to keep her. He never treated her right. Now, Eddie, Eddie would have taken better care of her.
"Wanna take good care of me now?" she whispered into his ear.
Suddenly the idea of getting back at Mr. J by scratching an itch that's been bugging her for some time seemed of paramount importance. Eddie seemed to think so, too. He also seemed a lot more sober after her suggestion even as his eyes twinkled with mischief.
They both got their revenge on the Joker that night. (And some other nights after that.)
Surprisingly (or maybe not – Harley is not actually that well-versed in the couple-y department for all her theoretical knowledge, and bad relationships tend to leave a bad taste), he kept his promise of being good to her, and so far, he's still keeping it. Harley can't imagine what she's done to bag such a sweetie, but she's not gonna question a Riddler. That's more of his shtick, so she'll leave that to him.
"Thanks so much, Eddie. I love them." She smiles. It's her biggest grin all day. "Maybe next time you could get me a keychain of you."