To Catch a Clown (For aintadumblonde)

[unweepingwillow]

Willow stripped Harley out of the outfit slowly - almost tenderly peeling it from her skin, to get to what was underneath, hand slipping about her waist the moment it was exposed - and drawing Harley against her. She had no intention of letting her slip free - but still she made a point of at least seeming to keep her grip loose; allowing the

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[aintadumbblonde]

Harley was uncertain, and a little afraid. But she was also sore and tired and feeling that familiar sense of loss and confusion she felt after one of The Joker's temper tantrums that left her homeless and injured. And it was moments like that that other personalities could slip in, wedge themselves between Harley and her ability to survive on her own, to guide her, to control her. Ivy had done it with kindness and pity, and Willow seemed to be doing it by sheer insistence. So Harley just let it happen. The woman clearly possessed some fondness for her, and that meant food, shelter, clothes and medical care.

[unweepingwillow]

As much as one could expect from the vampire, at least... and if it mattered, she truly did feel some amount of pity for this battered woman. Perhaps even kindness, as much as she could manage - and certainly fondness for this acrobatic woman.

Mostly it was her own loneliness that drove the insistence, though - that void in her heart that had been left from years of parental neglect, paired with unrequited love she couldn't even speak of (turned as it was towards the only friend she had ever known.) That hole had been twisted when she became a vampire, and deepened when her former friend was killed... and now.

Well. Harley was just the latest in a long line of people she had used to try and fill that hole; but the first since Xander's death had added to her need. And therefore the most likely to get true pampering atop of Willow's occasional cruelties...

[aintadumbblonde]

"Thank you..." Harley said, suddenly, after a long period of silence. "I promise I'm not usually this messed up." She added, sheepishly, going through the heap of clothes. She held up a pair of stockings. Sheer and black, with a cuban heel and a back seam that went all the way to the top. Ran her fingers-- the nails broken here and there-- over the bones of the red leather corset.

"You have expensive taste." She said, fingers tracing over the other garments. Mesh and lace and all kinds of soft fabrics. "Mister J never buys me lingerie. Red doesn't either. She thinks its demeaning or....something."

[unweepingwillow]

"Bet you look pretty nice in it, though," she whispered, coming up behind her - surveying her choice. She wanted Harley to look perfect. A pale little pet which Willow could make over in all the most delicious ways. She didn't know a better way to spend her evening - for Willow, after all, it was all about the fun she could have at another's expense....