Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

[totalwildcard]

It might not have ultimately been too much of a surprise which car in the parking lot was Harley's current ride. At least if you happened to know the Chevy Impala was Dean's provided it was even present on Tuesday. The funky 1970s green Chevy Chevelle sedan (four doors, see what she'd said about the back seat?) was of course Harley's: a classic look, but not so flashy as to attract too much attention and immediately get her in trouble as soon as she'd grabbed it from where the very unfortunate previous owner had left it.

Although the main hint that it was hers was still probably that she'd parked her butt on the hood of the thing as she waited for Marc to get there.

Call it a freebie.

(for that guy, continued from here!

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"One of us knows to have fun better than the other," Marc said. "And it ain't me."

[totalwildcard]

"Maybe." Definitely. "You're still fun sometimes, though."

Right, she should pull herself together.

Really put her back into a little headtilt and saying, "Maybe not right now..." Like a hilarious tease. (Shut up, she was trying, it was going around.)

[hasaknightjob]

"Balances out with the times I'm fucking hilarious?" Marc said.

Again, trying.

[totalwildcard]

He was rewarded with a snort, at least? Even if it was a weak one.

"Yeah, exactly."

[hasaknightjob]

"So worst compliment you've ever gotten or what?" Marc asked.

[totalwildcard]

"Huh?"

Harley finally looked over at him again, eyebrows up a little.

"Oh, you have no idea about the kinds of things people have told me as compliments before. Trust me, sweetie, you don't rate."

[hasaknightjob]

"Not sure if that's comforting or not," Marc admitted. He turned his focus to looking out the window, in theory trying to spot if there was a place for them to eat.

[totalwildcard]

"It's not," Harley replied, all too brightly.

They were just passing a roadside McDonald's. No, thank you.

[hasaknightjob]

Anything that was a franchise did not count for tonight's meal. Especially when the goal was an actual diner.

Marc looked back over to her. He studied her expression, then shook his head and stayed quiet.

[totalwildcard]

"I'm a woman, and I used to dress extra hot," Harley said, in response to the look (without ever looking back at it). "It's a great way to get all kinds of gross compliments."

Well, 'compliments'.

"So trust me, you floundering around 'cause you're outta your depth isn't really anything."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc studied her again. "If you're trying to dress ugly you're really failing on that one."

[totalwildcard]

"Oh, I didn't say that," Harley replied easily. "Just, a lotta guys have a really narrow idea of what sexy looks like."

She shrugged.

"And I've stopped adhering to that 'less I feel like it."

Was that a hint of smugness? Her mood must've been picking up.

[hasaknightjob]

"Their loss," Marc said. "But if they're making douchebag comments guessing it was never theirs to gain anyway."

[totalwildcard]

Harley confirmed his assumption with a shake of her head.

"Multiple reasons why, really."

One of them had tattoos all over her body.

"Anyway, that's in the past. I'll take other compliments now."

[hasaknightjob]

"If I get better at them I'll let you know," Marc told her.

[totalwildcard]

"And then I'll let ya know if you got better at them."

Horrible joke, forgive her. At least she smirked in his direction as she said it?

[hasaknightjob]

Marc gave a wry look in response. It wasn't like her joke had been an unfair comment.

[totalwildcard]

Harley glanced over again. "It's fine," she found herself saying, with a wry note of her own. "I know you're less talk, more action, anyway."

A Wawa rushed past, outside.

[hasaknightjob]

"With good reason," Marc replied. Factually, genuinely no other meaning to it.

[totalwildcard]

And in return, Harley was merely curious.

"The good reason being...?"

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked at her with obvious puzzlement. "Because I suck at it?"

[totalwildcard]

"And why d'you think you think that?" Harley wondered, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.

She also held up a finger.

"And don't say 'experience', 'cause one, that's generic, and two, we've all got experience putting out foot so far in our mouths someone oughta be payin' us for it."

[hasaknightjob]

Nope, still puzzled. "Me fucking up with you repeatedly isn't enough of an example?"

[totalwildcard]

And now the finger went up to tap at her temple. If it felt like a familiar gesture, well.

Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery?

"Honey, I got things going on no one's even bothered to try and diagnose," Harley said. "Me and my reactions, we're not a reliable gauge of anything except how to look fabulous and terrify people."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc gave her a hint of a grin. "One out of two ain't bad."