Harleen Part 12/19
Author: BlueSuede
Title: Harleen
Rating: NC17
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Pairings: Chloe/Bruce
Summary: Chloe is on a recruiting mission, trying to pin down Gotham's infamous Dark Knight. In order to learn more about him, she begins interviewing those he's captured. What will she do when the Joker escapes and begins targeting her?
Warning: sexually explicit content, moderate violence
banner by cheryljluv
First Chapter
Previous (Chapter 11)
Next (Chapter 13)
-12-
Chloe swirled her coffee in her cup, her body humming with that strange nervous feeling that comes after a night of trying to sleep through anxiety.
"I'm so sorry I have to take off like this," Bruce was saying as he tied his tie in front of his dresser mirror. He glanced over his shoulder at her, "Because believe me, you look infinitely more enticing than my board of directors."
Chloe blushed right down to her toes, squirming back into his pillows and beneath the sheet a little bit. "Then stay," she pleaded lightly, trying to force herself to focus on him instead of on the idea of "I know something you know, but you don't know I know you know." It was starting to make her head hurt and even the cup of coffee perfection she was holding wasn't doing much to help.
He sighed. "I want to," he conceded, walking over to her and leaning across the bed to place a peck on her lips. "But I can't," he pulled away, turning back to the mirror to finish dealing with the tie. "You're free to stay for breakfast, of course. And..." he paused, glancing at her reflection watching him in the mirror, "I'll call you tonight?" he asked, and Chloe almost smiled at the slightly hopeful note in his tone. As if he had any reason to doubt she'd want to hear from him again.
She nodded. "That sounds like a reasonable compromise. One of these days, though, Bruce, I'm going to manage to keep you in one place with me," she teased. "And then what will you do?"
"Throw myself at your mercy." He winked. Then he pulled on his sport coat and held out his arms for her, as if asking for approval.
"It's terrible," she said stubbornly, but with a twinkle in her eyes. "Take the whole thing off."
He chuckled. "All right. I have to go. But I will call tonight. I promise."
She swallowed tightly, almost wanting to finish the real promise for him. I'll call tonight, unless something comes up. Because I have greater responsibilities than a personal life.
...because I'm Batman.
Keeping her mouth shut, she nodded mutely, before draining the coffee cup desperately. He came back for another kiss, lingering this time before leaving her.
The door clicked shut and Chloe released an audible sigh. She shook her head at the empty coffee cup. "I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?" she asked it dryly.
She was a coward, plain and simple. She hadn't had the nerve to broach the subject. Really, what was she supposed to say. "Hey, now that we've slept together, I have a business proposition for you?" It didn't exactly sound so great out loud. Not to mention it meant owning up to lying about investigating his company. In theory, he couldn't hold it against her, seeing as his life was about telling the same kind of stories...but she couldn't help feeling guilty anyway.
There was nothing for it. She was just chicken.
Eventually she got out of bed, however. She decided the best thing to do would be to head home, review all of her accumulated data to be absolutely certain she was right, and then...as much as she hated to do it, call Oliver and tell him what she'd found out.
She'd done her job, she reminded herself as she slipped on her dress from last night, wishing she'd had the foresight to bring a change of clothes. All she'd been sent to Gotham to do was figure out who Batman was, and she'd done that with months to spare.
Okay, so technically it was also part of her job to proposition him regarding the Justice League, but maybe now that she was so personally involved, it would be better coming from someone else. It might be the cowardice talking, but it might also just be good business sense.
She felt her whole face grow hot at the prospect of explaining to Oliver that she'd "gotten a little too close" to the mission. Groaning at the mere thought, she headed downstairs to beg a ride off Alfred, who greeted her pleasantly with an offer of breakfast. She declined, not really having a stomach for it, and silently appreciated his courteousness in driving her home.
Chloe, Alfred, and Bruce, in the morning's unusual circumstances, had all neglected to do one thing that all three of them did every day: read the morning paper.
When Alfred dropped Chloe off at her building, the same time that somewhere across town Bruce was walking into a board meeting likely to take all morning and some of the afternoon, both men were unaware of the big headline on the front page:
Clown Prince's Partner in Crime?
A picture of an empty cell at Arkham Asylum with the glass wall blown in accompanied the article, detailing how someone had broken the Joker out. From the outside.
Blissfully unaware of this information, Alfred turned the radio in the car to a 40s jazz station, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed along, noting that the weather was once again cheerful and sunny, making that several days of sunshine in a row: something entirely unheard of for Gotham. He thought momentarily of Miss Sullivan, of how pleased he was that Bruce was finally making time for himself, allowing himself a little happiness.
Bruce took a seat at the head of the table in the Board Room at Wayne Enterprises, already slipped into his persona of bored billionaire playboy who doesn't care about the business aspect of his inheritance. He drummed his fingers idly, all the while keeping a hawk's eye on every word, every expression that passed over each member's face. His mind flitted briefly to Chloe, wondering what she was doing at that moment, whether she was thinking of him.
The woman herself greeted her doorman cheerfully, her face flushing at the thought that the same man must have seen her leave the night before wearing the same clothes. Not, of course, that he said anything. He greeted her pleasantly, tipping his hat as she walked past. She made her way through the lobby to the elevator, where an operator pressed the button for her floor, faint music coming over the speakers in the background while she mulled over what exactly she was going to say to Oliver when she called him up. Maybe she'd take a hot bubble bath first...
A long one.
She reached her floor and searched her clutch, momentarily worried that she'd left her card key at Bruce's but then finding it at the last second. She slipped it into the lock a little awkwardly at first, drawing up a red light when it was rejected. The second time she operated it correctly, the green light announcing her accepted entrance into the room, and she turned the handle, pushing it open as she slipped the key back into her clutch. She snapped the purse shut and looked up, realizing there was a tapping noise coming from inside the room. The moment she looked up, she froze mid-step, the blood draining from her face.
"Someone was out after curfew. Tisk. Tisk." The sing song voice sounded familiar, but Chloe didn't pause to try to figure out where she recognized it from. The sight of the woman dressed in a red and black Harlequin costume, her face painted to match, sitting on Chloe's windowsill, playing with a paddleball, instantly ignited Chloe's flight instincts. Instantly turning to run, she was cut off by the door being shut in her face, revealing the last man in the world she ever wanted to see.
His bruises had faded and his cuts had healed, either way they would have been camouflaged by the face paint, but nothing could hide that mutilated grin. His arm was still in a sling, but he was no longer dressed in the straight jacket or hospital scrubs she was accustomed to seeing him in. In its place was a dingy purple jacket and a green tie.
She swallowed anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest as he shook his finger at her. "Ah, ah, ah," he said, moving between her and the door. She backed up a step. "Please, Miss Sullivan, do have a seat. So nice of you to dress up for us, but you know that wasn't necessary. We're but humble company." His voice was delighted in a way it had never been behind bars. She could hear it. He was winning and he knew it. She only wished she knew what the stakes were. She didn't move to sit, but stood still, trying to summon up her courage and formulate a plan.
When she didn't move, the Joker raised an eyebrow, and the woman behind her raised her voice, the sound grating. "Pop a squat, Sugar. You ain't goin' anywhere."
Chloe swallowed again, in spite of her now dry throat and turned to head for the arm chair in the room, trying not to take her eyes off the pair.
"Thank you, Harley," the Joker said, smiling at his female partner.
"Harley?" Chloe questioned before she could stop herself, realization suddenly sinking in. She looked at the woman at the window. "Oh my God. Dr. Quinzel? Harleen?"
The woman shook her head, standing up and throwing a devoted arm about the Joker's shoulders. "That's Harley Quinn."
With which announcement, she sent her foot flying for Chloe's head, knocking her unconscious.
Previous (Chapter 11)
Next (Chapter 13)
For more on Harley Quinn Click Here