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Title: Her Bit*h
Fandom: Batman/DC Comics
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Harley/Ivy, past Joker/Harley
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Summary: Harley's never going back.
Word Count: 1,353
Written For: Ficlet Zone 69: Gwen Stefani (Put her YouTube channel on Shuffle Play, and this is what I came up with...)
Warnings: Mentions non-con and domestic abuse
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Her flesh was warm in the bright afternoon sunlight, but her heart was warmer as Harley belted out the lyrics of one of her favorite rock songs. She beat on the backs of their leather seats in tune to the catchy rhythm, and for once, her girlfriend didn't fuss at her. Instead, Ivy was leaned back, practically glowing in the hot sunrays and looking every bit the Queen they both knew she was. Harley was thrilled that Spring was at last coming to Gotham City, and not the least of which was the change warmer weather always brought in her Ivy. The heat was fueling her as well, but it wasn't solely to blame for her good spirits.
She threw back her drink, threw the bottle to the floorboard rather than on the pavement as she once would have, and yelled the next lines at the top of her lungs. She was surprised when she heard Ivy singing along with her. Looking down, Harley watched Ivy lower her shades and then wink at her over their top rim. She grinned from ear to ear and was considering telling the driver, some urchin kid they'd rescued from the streets, when she heard a gunshot. She ducked; Ivy scowled.
But they didn't need to get involved and let whatever crime was happening ruin their fun. They weren't the heroes, after all, and she was certain one of the Batbrood would take care of whatever robbery was happening. But then familiar cackling echoed in her ears. It sliced right through her loud, pumping music to send her spiraling back in memories. She felt, rather than saw, Ivy's immediate change in posture and emotions.
It was him. It was always fucking him! No matter what she did, every time she thought her life was improving, there he was come again to bring her back to him, come again to tear her apart, come again to make her his whimpering love slave -- But not this time. She'd been down that proverbial block way, way too many times. This past Winter was only the most recent time that Ivy had found her, a broken shell of a woman after the Joker's latest escapades had left her not even behind bars but assumed dead, laying in an actual gutter where he'd abandoned her.
She could shoot him, she thought. She could take the bazooka out of the floor and shoot him dead, end it all right here, right now. He'd never laugh again. He'd never hurt her, or any other woman, ever again. But then the Bat would be after her, even though he was a murderer and a rapist, and so would whatever of Joker's goons remained. She and Ivy would be on the run again. Not only would their romance be impeded yet again by the Joker, but their lives would revolve around running from the after effects of shooting the insane bastard.
"Boss? Whatcha want me to do?"
Harley glanced down at the kid, whose name she didn't quite recall at the moment. Only then did she realize that their stolen convertible had come to a stop, their ride, their party, brought to a stop because of that same, stupid clown who always, always brought her entire freaking life to a slamming standstill. He'd always had power over, since that first time she'd recognized a wild, crazed loneliness in the depths of his eyes while she'd been supposed to be healing him and helping to bring him to justice, rather than allowing the maniac to destroy her.
Well, she wasn't going to allow that to happen again. She wasn't going to give him that power, that pleasure, or that joy ever again. She was her own woman. No. She was better than that. She wasn't alone anymore. Not only was not that quivering lump of a woman he'd forged into a doll of his own, not only had she found herself and her own joys and strengths along the way, but she'd found a person who treated her a million times better than he ever had, than he'd ever treated anybody, she was quite damn certain.
But how to tell him that? To say anything to him, to waste even one breath on him, even one more second of her life, would be to still be giving him power over her. She was done with that, done with him, and she wasn't looking back. Hell, she souldn't have looked back at all, even during these last few seconds while her thoughts had been running rampant. Bullets whizzed through the air, and she realized they'd nearly ridden into a shoot-out with the cops and Joker and his goons.
But to turn tail would give him power too. "WHY THE HELL'D YOU STOP THE PARTY?!" she demanded, wishing that she could kick Gwen up even higher. She glowered at the girl they'd pulled off of the streets. Their eyes locked. The kid swallowed her gum, but then -- and Harley would pride her for years later on her bravado -- she grinned as wild and woolly as a true daughter of the infamous Harley Quinn, yanked the wheel, and slammed on the gas. She wasn't running away from the fight, only taking a slightly safer route right by the shoot-out.
Ivy had drawn her shades down again and was curiously watching Harley. Her vines snapped in the air. With her latest formula, the man-eating Venus fly traps were actually able to strike at the bullets. They swallowed some while batting others back in the directions they'd come, striking cops and clowns alike. Harley grinned at the sight -- she couldn't wait to see what else her brilliant lover would invent! --, but then she refocused her attention on that very briliant, and beautiful, person, that person who had nursed her back to health time and again and had always striven to be there for her over their last several decades despite the fact that she'd foolishly ran back to the Joker with every opportunity she'd gotten.
She was done running. She was done changing for a man, or for any person but herself. She was done being anybody's bitch but her own, and Ivy's. She reached a hand down, and despite the rain of gunfire around them, Ivy took her offered hand in her own with no hesitation. "DANCE WITH ME, PAM-A-LAMB!" Harley shouted, pulling her up, guiding her into the backseat, and drawing her up close against her body.
They danced, Stefani still pounding out a wild rebellious song of women's rights and pride, bullets still shooting all around them, and the sun continuing to shine. Harley had never been happier, prouder, or, she thought proudly, hotter! She dipped Ivy, pressed her lips to hers, and was still kissing her passionately, her tongue down her throat, when they rounded the corner, leaving the Joker far behind.
They'd thought it would be okay to return to Gotham with Spring on the horizon, but as Harley brought Ivy down beneath her in the back seat, she found herself thinking to a few months prior, when her girl had last proposed a change of base. Harley had immediately opted for the old stomping grounds, but with Ivy's body and vines wrapped around hers and her mouth buried firmly in her breasts, Harley found herself contemplating other, warmer, and more exotic places. Maybe it was time for a new base altogether.
Maybe it was time to go somewhere where the Joker would never find them again, not because she would allow him to influence her ever again -- But then was that in and of itself, allowing him to influence her? No, she thought, her tongue lavishing Ivy, it was making damn certain her peace and joy were never interrupted again. She'd let Pammy choose the place, she decided. Wherever she wanted to go was fine with her. After all, Pamela, Ivy, whatever she wanted her to call her, was her peace, her joy, her love, and her home. Harley sang, beginning to bounce again in time to the music, as they rode on.
The End
Fandom: Batman/DC Comics
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Harley/Ivy, past Joker/Harley
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Summary: Harley's never going back.
Word Count: 1,353
Written For: Ficlet Zone 69: Gwen Stefani (Put her YouTube channel on Shuffle Play, and this is what I came up with...)
Warnings: Mentions non-con and domestic abuse
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Her flesh was warm in the bright afternoon sunlight, but her heart was warmer as Harley belted out the lyrics of one of her favorite rock songs. She beat on the backs of their leather seats in tune to the catchy rhythm, and for once, her girlfriend didn't fuss at her. Instead, Ivy was leaned back, practically glowing in the hot sunrays and looking every bit the Queen they both knew she was. Harley was thrilled that Spring was at last coming to Gotham City, and not the least of which was the change warmer weather always brought in her Ivy. The heat was fueling her as well, but it wasn't solely to blame for her good spirits.
She threw back her drink, threw the bottle to the floorboard rather than on the pavement as she once would have, and yelled the next lines at the top of her lungs. She was surprised when she heard Ivy singing along with her. Looking down, Harley watched Ivy lower her shades and then wink at her over their top rim. She grinned from ear to ear and was considering telling the driver, some urchin kid they'd rescued from the streets, when she heard a gunshot. She ducked; Ivy scowled.
But they didn't need to get involved and let whatever crime was happening ruin their fun. They weren't the heroes, after all, and she was certain one of the Batbrood would take care of whatever robbery was happening. But then familiar cackling echoed in her ears. It sliced right through her loud, pumping music to send her spiraling back in memories. She felt, rather than saw, Ivy's immediate change in posture and emotions.
It was him. It was always fucking him! No matter what she did, every time she thought her life was improving, there he was come again to bring her back to him, come again to tear her apart, come again to make her his whimpering love slave -- But not this time. She'd been down that proverbial block way, way too many times. This past Winter was only the most recent time that Ivy had found her, a broken shell of a woman after the Joker's latest escapades had left her not even behind bars but assumed dead, laying in an actual gutter where he'd abandoned her.
She could shoot him, she thought. She could take the bazooka out of the floor and shoot him dead, end it all right here, right now. He'd never laugh again. He'd never hurt her, or any other woman, ever again. But then the Bat would be after her, even though he was a murderer and a rapist, and so would whatever of Joker's goons remained. She and Ivy would be on the run again. Not only would their romance be impeded yet again by the Joker, but their lives would revolve around running from the after effects of shooting the insane bastard.
"Boss? Whatcha want me to do?"
Harley glanced down at the kid, whose name she didn't quite recall at the moment. Only then did she realize that their stolen convertible had come to a stop, their ride, their party, brought to a stop because of that same, stupid clown who always, always brought her entire freaking life to a slamming standstill. He'd always had power over, since that first time she'd recognized a wild, crazed loneliness in the depths of his eyes while she'd been supposed to be healing him and helping to bring him to justice, rather than allowing the maniac to destroy her.
Well, she wasn't going to allow that to happen again. She wasn't going to give him that power, that pleasure, or that joy ever again. She was her own woman. No. She was better than that. She wasn't alone anymore. Not only was not that quivering lump of a woman he'd forged into a doll of his own, not only had she found herself and her own joys and strengths along the way, but she'd found a person who treated her a million times better than he ever had, than he'd ever treated anybody, she was quite damn certain.
But how to tell him that? To say anything to him, to waste even one breath on him, even one more second of her life, would be to still be giving him power over her. She was done with that, done with him, and she wasn't looking back. Hell, she souldn't have looked back at all, even during these last few seconds while her thoughts had been running rampant. Bullets whizzed through the air, and she realized they'd nearly ridden into a shoot-out with the cops and Joker and his goons.
But to turn tail would give him power too. "WHY THE HELL'D YOU STOP THE PARTY?!" she demanded, wishing that she could kick Gwen up even higher. She glowered at the girl they'd pulled off of the streets. Their eyes locked. The kid swallowed her gum, but then -- and Harley would pride her for years later on her bravado -- she grinned as wild and woolly as a true daughter of the infamous Harley Quinn, yanked the wheel, and slammed on the gas. She wasn't running away from the fight, only taking a slightly safer route right by the shoot-out.
Ivy had drawn her shades down again and was curiously watching Harley. Her vines snapped in the air. With her latest formula, the man-eating Venus fly traps were actually able to strike at the bullets. They swallowed some while batting others back in the directions they'd come, striking cops and clowns alike. Harley grinned at the sight -- she couldn't wait to see what else her brilliant lover would invent! --, but then she refocused her attention on that very briliant, and beautiful, person, that person who had nursed her back to health time and again and had always striven to be there for her over their last several decades despite the fact that she'd foolishly ran back to the Joker with every opportunity she'd gotten.
She was done running. She was done changing for a man, or for any person but herself. She was done being anybody's bitch but her own, and Ivy's. She reached a hand down, and despite the rain of gunfire around them, Ivy took her offered hand in her own with no hesitation. "DANCE WITH ME, PAM-A-LAMB!" Harley shouted, pulling her up, guiding her into the backseat, and drawing her up close against her body.
They danced, Stefani still pounding out a wild rebellious song of women's rights and pride, bullets still shooting all around them, and the sun continuing to shine. Harley had never been happier, prouder, or, she thought proudly, hotter! She dipped Ivy, pressed her lips to hers, and was still kissing her passionately, her tongue down her throat, when they rounded the corner, leaving the Joker far behind.
They'd thought it would be okay to return to Gotham with Spring on the horizon, but as Harley brought Ivy down beneath her in the back seat, she found herself thinking to a few months prior, when her girl had last proposed a change of base. Harley had immediately opted for the old stomping grounds, but with Ivy's body and vines wrapped around hers and her mouth buried firmly in her breasts, Harley found herself contemplating other, warmer, and more exotic places. Maybe it was time for a new base altogether.
Maybe it was time to go somewhere where the Joker would never find them again, not because she would allow him to influence her ever again -- But then was that in and of itself, allowing him to influence her? No, she thought, her tongue lavishing Ivy, it was making damn certain her peace and joy were never interrupted again. She'd let Pammy choose the place, she decided. Wherever she wanted to go was fine with her. After all, Pamela, Ivy, whatever she wanted her to call her, was her peace, her joy, her love, and her home. Harley sang, beginning to bounce again in time to the music, as they rode on.
The End
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