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The door slamming was loud. Final. It took all your resolve not to crumble to the ground. Your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, now – had just walked out, taking everything good with him. Pulling out your phone, you dialed your best friend with shaky hands. After a long vent, you noticed the time and bid each other goodnight. You had a mission the next day. It was best to get some sleep, despite it all.
You felt even worse upon wake, but it was time to head off to Belle Reve. Batman wouldn’t give up on an illegal weapons trading case due to a breakup, so neither would you. Besides, working with Task Force X always cheered you up. They were typically a rowdy bunch, but Colonel Rick Flag, their CO, was always good at managing them in the right direction. Some prisoners came and went from the group, but Harley Quinn was a regular, along with Digger Harkness, who was your personal favorite.
Those two were crazy, but knew how to have a good time, and would absolutely make this mission more bearable. Especially since you were going to a club. With Harkness as your date for the night, you’d at least be entertained.
During Amanda Waller’s pre-mission pitch, you started quietly hitting the back of your head against the wall repeatedly. Colonel Flag noticed. He raised an eyebrow in your direction, a silent ‘okay?’ You had to nod, though really nothing was okay. You gave him a look, ‘I’ll tell you later.’ The two of you had worked enough missions together to have a silent language, knowing each others’ tells and what every move meant.
To tell the truth, you still had a little crush on him. You’d gone on one date, years ago, before your most recent boyfriend and before Waller had paired you as Colonel and Lieutenant in charge of the Task Force. You were in your first year working for ARGUS, and he was your handsome, older superior. It was never meant to work. You agreed it wasn’t productive and left it at one date. Then Waller stuck you commanding the affectionately nicknamed ‘Suicide Squad’ together, where you got closer and became good friends.
This particular mission wasn’t going to take long, so the group only consisted of four of you – Rick, yourself, and Harley and Harkness, the two inmates Waller trusted to get the job done well. Besides, too many people in one group would raise suspicion. As evil as Waller was, she was smart. She knew pairing you up with Rick wouldn’t work. She absolutely knew about your crush and knew he’d distract you. Harley was a master at everything and could easily fit in as Rick’s girl, a phrase that had your jaw ticking whenever someone repeated it. Harkness flirted with anything that breathed so you two could pull off very real banter.
You boarded the plane that’d be taking you to Gotham City. There would be almost seven hours for wardrobe and disguises, which was more than enough. You were happy with the look by the time you were dolled up and dressed, but when you turned to show it off, Rick was very pointedly avoiding your gaze. At least your date was commenting, though somewhat inappropriately, on your appearance. Rick only looked at you as he distributed the in-ear comms, still silent.
Arriving at the Iceberg Lounge was like nothing you’d ever seen. Sure, you’d been to Gotham. You’d been to clubs in other cities. Those paled in comparison. You couldn’t see the top of the building unless your head was tilted all the way back, glittering white ice – real or not, you couldn’t tell – covering the outside walls, complete with a marquee sign, an outdoor rug that read ‘THE ICEBERG LOUNGE’, and velvet VIP ropes on either side of it. Rick had to drag you inside else you’d stay out all night just gazing at the architecture.
The dazzling exterior was nothing compared to the inside; Looping staircases, diamond and glass chandeliers, and a number of stages, all occupied with bands or scantily-clad dancers. Not to mention the ice statues scattered across the floor, cold fog floating off them. You were almost dizzy as you sat in a velvet booth with the rest of the squad. Harkness’s hand resting on your waist brought you back to the conversation, grounding you. He helped you out of your fur coat and set it aside. A waiter came by and took your coats for you, whisking them away to a coat check.
Rick quietly relayed the plan. The target was distributing weapons out of a warehouse, selling them from the lounge to those who knew to ask. Which warehouse changed for every transaction, always remaining a secret until the weapons were long gone to a new secret location. It must’ve been a pain for him to move them every other night, but it was working, so he was doing something right. Once the target was located, you and Harkness would go in. Harkness was the buyer, you were just arm candy. You didn’t particularly like that plan, but the intel ARGUS had offered showed a pattern that every buyer had a girl beside them.
Rick and Harley were backup in case the target decided he didn’t trust you and Harkness enough, not the main players in case the target recognized either of them and put two and two together. Harley was obviously famous in this city and if you were paying attention, Rick wasn’t a difficult connection to make. As soon as the plan was set, both couples separated. Backup wouldn’t work if you were seen together.
It almost hurt to be separated from Rick, but you shoved it all down. This was a mission, fuck the breakup and the crush and every feeling you had about how he’d been ignoring you.
Harley’s voice sounded in your ear. “He’s on the second floor… looks like he’s getting a lap dance. Good luck interrupting that.” You could hear the smirk in her words, knowing her only job now was to dance until she was needed.
You kept the dazed smile on your face, tugging on Harkness’ arm and pulling him to the dance floor. “Let’s use the next few minutes wisely, I’m getting a drink.”
“No, you’re not.” Rick’s voice came over the comms. “We’re on a mission.”
“What’s it going to look like if my boyfriend here isn’t buying me drinks? People come here to drink and to make poor choices. Remember that video of Bruce Wayne?”
“You gonna get that drunk tonight?” Harkness grinned.
“Why, you wanna see more of this?” You twirled around, showing off your outfit.
“Don’t answer that, Harkness, or I swear you’ll get ten more years.”
You pulled him to the bar and ordered champagne for yourself and a root beer for him. He whistled. “Really making these pockets hurt, sweetheart.”
“As if it’s your own money. Come on, let’s go dance.”
He collected the drinks, murmuring a thanks in your ear for the root beer.
“If you need a break, take it. I know this is probably not the most productive environment for you.”
He only hummed, taking your hand and spinning you around. You kept an eye on the balcony where the target had been sitting. He was still there, tucking bills into his companion’s garter. It looked like she was almost done with the dance, so you let Harkness lead you up the stairs and to the opposite loveseat. He handed the girl a tip to hurry up with the dance and sat down, pulling you into his lap. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, tucking your head into his neck.
His hand landed on your hip, teasing the hem of your skirt, and you couldn’t help but imagine him as a different man. Rick or your ex, the image still wasn’t clear. He introduced himself with a false identity to the target, who didn’t even seem disappointed that his dance had ended early, clearly sensing a transaction coming his way.
“Who’s this?” The other man, introduced as Mr. Decker, asked, barely nodding in your direction.
“She’s my girl, isn’t that right, baby?” Harkness nipped at your ear, and you smiled lazily, holding your hand out for Mr. Decker.
“I’m Kelsey. It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He kissed your hand, then leaned back in his armchair. His immediate disinterest gave you the cue that anything else you said would be fully ignored.
“We saw you earlier and thought, this looks like a man who knows. Knows about the city, the social hierarchy, the politics, maybe the dirty stuff. We’re new to town, you see, and trying to make some friends, do some business.”
Mr. Decker grinned, though you could tell it wasn’t entirely genuine. He didn’t know anything about you two yet, and wasn’t going to lay his cards out for strangers. “I always welcome new friends!” He snapped at a passing waiter. “Get these two some drinks, on my tab.” He leaned in closer to the waiter, muttering. Not quiet enough, it seemed, his words carrying across the table to your ears. “Make ‘em strong, yeah?”
The waiter reappeared in moments with three glasses. You didn’t know what was in them, but the pinkish hue didn’t look like anything you’d seen before. You picked up the glass, raising it in a toast to Mr. Decker. “To new friends?”
He returned the toast, taking a sip. You miscalculated your sip, accidentally taking more than you usually would. The swig almost sprayed right back out of your mouth, but you managed to keep it in with just a grimace. Harkness and Mr. Decker laughed at the expression, Decker chiming in with some comment about women and alcohol. If you hadn’t been on a mission, you never would’ve let such a thing slide. Harkness gently squeezed your waist, reminding you to keep your cool while also making sure you knew in another situation, he’d defend you.
The comment had hit you a little harder than you expected, but that could be the one and a half drinks speaking. Two drinks, by the time you even finished the thought. Harkness let you drink his in the guise of ‘his girl’ being thirsty tonight rather than telling Decker he was in recovery. Men like Decker don’t really care about things like recovery and addiction and tend to back away from it, which was something you couldn’t afford tonight.
The next hour was full of laughs and drinks and a few neck kisses. On your part, maybe a few too many drinks. When Harkness was doing all the talking and Decker was ordering drink after drink, refills coming before you could even set down an empty glass, you didn’t much else to do but run your hand through Harkness’ hair and just drink.
Rick’s voice came through your comms every now and then reminding you to drink slower, maybe to get something to eat. It was too late, you couldn’t take his advice even if you tried. You had let yourself keep going when you realized one more drink would make you forget about your ex, at least for the night. You were about two more shots away from flipping the switch into unconsolable sobbing territory. Harkness didn’t know that, and Rick and Harley hadn’t been counting.
Finally, Mr. Decker had warmed up to you both. His cheeks were barely flushed with drink, so a fully sober Harkness struck. “I want to do some business with you.” Harkness said, rubbing his thumb across the knuckles of your hand that sat in your lap. “I hear you have some supplies, and I’m in need. Is that something we can arrange?”
Mr. Decker perked up. “Yes. Of course,” He was almost slurring. “You give me a contact, I’ll have my guys tell you where to go.” He paused, looking over the both of you. “Nah. Screw that. Let’s go tonight. I’ll take you there!”
Harkness turned to you just as you took another shot. “What do you say, baby? You wanna go now?”
Yes. Yes. You were supposed to say yes. This is exactly what you wanted, this is better than the plan.
“Baby?” You stilled. “I’m not… I’m–”
“Will you excuse us?” Harkness pulled you up quickly. “How about I meet you back here in ten minutes? Gotta get Kels some water and sober enough to walk on two feet.” He joked, and Mr. Decker agreed. Harkness pulled you to a corner, smoothing your hair. “What’s going on, sweetheart? We’re so close, we gotta go with him. I’m so sorry I let you drink so much, I didn’t even notice. Let me help you sober up.”
“I’m too drunk, Captain Boomerang,” you giggled. “What a silly name. George. Even sillier! Oh, fake boyfriend, I’m sooo drunk. I think we’re good at being fake boyfriend-girlfriend. You know I think you’re so cool and awesome and good at this but you know what? If Flag was my fake boyfriend? I’d be all over that.”
“Okay, let’s calm down, maybe stop talking?” He called a waiter over for a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”
“No, no more drinks, George, I need to stop drinking. You’re really smart about that.” You leaned back against the wall, then your eyes lit up with a thought. “You know who’s really smart? Fl-”
“You really need to stop talking. Come on, drink it.” He lifted the water to your lips, tipping it so you would be forced to drink it else it spill everywhere. You did, but just the one glass wasn’t enough.
“You know my boyfriend broke up with me yesterday? Oh, yeah, big screaming match, doors slamming, I threw a book at him. Classic stuff. All I thought afterwards was how Flag would never do that to me. He wouldn’t break up with me because of a silly thing like ‘you work too much.’ We work the same hours, it’s perfect! He’s like ten years older than me, too, it’s so hot, George.”
“Really, truly, seriously, shut up. It’s an open comm, you can tell me all about this later. Right now we gotta find Harley and put you away while I go with Decker. We’ve only got a few minutes or he’ll leave without me, come on.”
Harley’s voice came over the comms. “Oh, this is good stuff. I’m downstairs by the bar, Flag’s in the bathroom. Better hope he didn’t hear all that!”
“Really not helpful, Harls. You take her outta here, put her somewhere safe.”
“George, I’m super dizzy. I might have double vision, too.” You punctuated the sentence with almost falling down the stairs and taking Harkness with you. “Oh, my gosh. Harley is here? That’s so crazy. Harls!” You took off running to the bar, instantly disappearing into the crowd. Harkness sighed, heading off in the direction you’d gone. Three minutes left.
“Flag, I think I’ve gotta leave the girls. You’ve got ‘em? I really gotta go with Decker, this is our only shot.”
“I’ll be right behind you. I’ll get them somewhere safe. Don’t do anything stupid and don’t get yourself killed.”
Harkness headed back up the stairs to Decker. Across the room, you crashed into Harley’s arms. “Why are you here, girl? Why didn’t you tell me? I’m literally here with Harkness, how crazy is that?”
Harley, only a shot or two in, was almost completely supporting you. “We came here together, hon’. You, me, Boomer, and Flag. Remember?”
You gasped. “Flag! Did you know I totally have a crush on him? We went out once, did I tell you that? I still think about it.” You paused, a realization hitting fast. “Is that cheating? Was I emotionally cheating on my boyfriend that whole time? Oh, that’s so bad! I should call him and apologize. Where’s my phone?” You patted your hips, but found no pockets and no phone.
Rick took this moment to reappear, face flushed. “Time to go, ladies. Harley, follow Harkness when he leaves. I’ve gotta get this one back to the plane. Comms should stay open, proximity doesn’t usually affect it. I’ll tell you as soon as I’m on my way.”
He tried to ignore the look on your face as he led you out of the club. “How’d you get this drunk?” He muttered, leaning close to your ear.
“Got a lotta stuff to forget, Colonel. I knew it wasn’t a good night for this,” you frowned, looking down at the ground. “I should’ve told you guys earlier, I got broken up with last night. Not exactly on my A-game today.”
Rick hummed. “I heard. Sounds like he was a jerk. Didn’t know what he had anyway.”
“Who told you?” You pulled your coat tighter around your body, the cold air from the short walk already sobering you up and fading the liquid blanket.
“You did.”
“I haven’t talked to you all day. You haven’t looked at me since this morning. I miss those pretty eyes. If I was in your lap all night everything would be perfect. Should’ve changed up Waller’s plan.” Rick stayed silent, placing a hand on your back to stabilize you. “Wait. Are we going back to my apartment? Oh, this night is turning around for sure.”
“We’re in Gotham City, darlin’. Your apartment is a hundred miles away. How about we play the silent game?”
Your eyes widened, then you nodded, miming zipping your lips. Rick rubbed your shoulder, smiling. “Good girl.” In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have said that, because it just opened the floodgates again.
“Woah.” You looked up at him. “I just lost the silent game because woah. You dog, Richard Flag! Nasty words, really dirty. Sexy, though. Maybe we should go back to my apartment! Make the plane take us there, please.”
“Shh. Just let me get us to the plane.” A taxi ride and some seriously inappropriate words later, you were in the field just outside the city where the plane was waiting. “You stay here. I’m just a word away, over comms, and you have David here,” he gestured to the pilot, who waved. “As company. Be safe, please.”
He turned away, but you grabbed his shoulder and tugged him back to you, pouting. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m coming back, darlin’, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “And trust me, tomorrow morning we’ve got a lot to talk about.”