Harley Quinn (
totalwildcard) wrote2024-07-14 01:51 am
Somewhere on the Mainland; Sunday Early Evening
You asked Harley, it was a pretty good Sunday, so far.
She'd started out her day with no plan, and yet by happy accident (and it was definitely an accident, and not someone somewhere making room in a shared schedule to facilitate things, or anything deliberate on the part of anyone directly involved!) she'd run into Marc, and that had sparked a simple and easy plan after all: to drive him to the mainland for dinner, at a restaurant she'd overheard someone talking about on one of her off-island jaunts earlier in the week. It was supposed to be a family-run, no-nonsense little Italian place, and exactly the sort of thing Harley was in the mood for, especially right now with the company she had.
So life was indeed pretty good!
And Harley's mood wasn't soured even by finding out there was actually no parking available right by the restaurant. After some searching, she'd managed to find a spot some blocks away - which was to say, she'd sniped it from right under someone's nose with a truly reckless move. Which had led to some blaring horns from other cars. Which was all good in Harley's book! She had more important things to be thinking about, anyway!
"And the tiramisu's supposed to be amazing," she was saying, as they got out of the car. "Like, 'someone's 97-year-old tiny little Italian grandma made it' kind of amazing. D'you think they'd let me order that for an app and not just dessert?"
(NFB for distance, for the one modded with permission + some NPCs)
She'd started out her day with no plan, and yet by happy accident (and it was definitely an accident, and not someone somewhere making room in a shared schedule to facilitate things, or anything deliberate on the part of anyone directly involved!) she'd run into Marc, and that had sparked a simple and easy plan after all: to drive him to the mainland for dinner, at a restaurant she'd overheard someone talking about on one of her off-island jaunts earlier in the week. It was supposed to be a family-run, no-nonsense little Italian place, and exactly the sort of thing Harley was in the mood for, especially right now with the company she had.
So life was indeed pretty good!
And Harley's mood wasn't soured even by finding out there was actually no parking available right by the restaurant. After some searching, she'd managed to find a spot some blocks away - which was to say, she'd sniped it from right under someone's nose with a truly reckless move. Which had led to some blaring horns from other cars. Which was all good in Harley's book! She had more important things to be thinking about, anyway!
"And the tiramisu's supposed to be amazing," she was saying, as they got out of the car. "Like, 'someone's 97-year-old tiny little Italian grandma made it' kind of amazing. D'you think they'd let me order that for an app and not just dessert?"
(NFB for distance, for the one modded with permission + some NPCs)

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Not that Harley was thinking about that at all. She just leaned in and nudged him in the right direction along the sidewalk.
The sun hadn't set yet, and while it wasn't quite crowded enough to be annoying, there were still plenty of people about, on their way to dinner or home or just living their lives.
"Some people on TV do!" Harley said earnestly - and then smirked. "But they're mostly claymation."
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"You say that and the island'll turn you into it," Marc said. "Or a cartoon or some shit."
Funnily enough at least one of the residents of the house could give pointers if that happened. Not that Marc knew that.
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What a surprise, right?
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And the perfect excuse she didn't actually need for sneaking her hand into his back pocket! Followed by a theatrical sigh of her own, much more dramatic than his. "Damn, missed your wallet again."
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"And thoroughly," she purred, smirking up at him like it was a promise.
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Something -- someone bumped against Marc on the other side. Just the way sometimes happened, in crowded spots!
Only, one of his pockets not currently being occupied by Harley may have suddenly felt lighter.
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He wasn't mad, he respected the hustle, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to immediately go to grab the wrist of whoever was doing it.
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Which was the point Harley caught up with what was happening, and gasped. "Wh-- you little shit!"
Considering she would have had the same initial offended reaction to any teenaged pickpocket, there was no obvious sense of recognition in it just yet.
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Marc made sure his cell was in his possession while hanging on to the kid's wrist. He had no vested interest here. But he was going to give the kid a once over to try to see if he could get a read on if this was just a juvenile delinquent or somebody who was in over their head.
Not that he cared.
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"What?" Harley said, raising her eyebrows, pointedly. (Also, ignore how fast her hand had come out of Marc's pocket and how she'd straightened up as soon as she'd realized who they were dealing with.) "We don't steal from Marc - well, you don't steal from Marc, and you're the one who decided to learn that lesson right now, so if he's gonna be all intense at you, that's on you, kid."
"Oh my God, his name's Mark?" the kid replied with way too much of an amused tone and face for the situation. "Doesn't that make him the perfect target?"
Sorry they were talking about you like you weren't there, Marc.
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"You have a kid?"
Don't mind Marc, he was just recontextualizing everything he'd ever known about Harley and her ex.
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She actually had no real memory of whether he was or wasn't one of the people she'd given her business card to, but that didn't really matter that much to her anyway.
She gestured at the girl.
"This is the associate."
The girl threw him a half-assed salute and said, "'Sup."
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Now he just had to process Harley having a connection to a kid at all.
(Yes, fifteen. Might as well be an infant as far as Marc was concerned.)
He gave the barest nod at the girl. "Hey."
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Now, introductions done in a satisfactory manner and no one was going to have any further questions, right?
Cass was definitely eyeing Marc like she had questions. So Harley was going to head that off right at the pass, and say, "I hope you've had a better eye picking your other targets today."
Cass scoffed. "I didn't pick him 'cause I really wanted to get his stuff, I was just... saying hello." She looked way too pleased with herself for that one. "What, you don't think I noticed it was you that was getting all cozy with this guy? You stick out, Harls."
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Or something.
"I'm learning by doing," Cass chimed in, eyeing Marc like she was now wondering what kind of office this guy had. "Well, not the part about knowing how to get things off distracted people, I was great at that before she ever met me!"
"That is true," Harley had to agree with a shrug. "However, we met 'cause she'd taken a diamond and swallowed it, so that's the part we're really workin' on. The smarts."
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"You got any more apprentices?" Marc asked, turning back to Harley. Which felt like a fair question since Marc had previously assumed the answer to be zero.
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She also went ahead and ignored the girl's protest about how it had made sense at the time, god! "No, just the one," she said, "please, ya think I got time for more?"
You know, since she was so clearly very hands-on with this one and whatnot.
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Marc looked Cass over again. "So what got you into pickpocketing?"
He wasn't expecting an honest answer. He was mainly trying to get a feel for Cass in general.
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Right before Cass pointed at him and looked at Harley, of course. "Is he a cop?" she demanded. "'Cause you have to tell me right now if he's a cop!"
Harley rolled her eyes. "He's not a cop," she said. "He's just..." Uh, what was a good ending to that sentence? "Like that."
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"Been arrested, that count?"
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Because this was far from being an upscale neighborhood.
... Hold on.
Something about the particular surprise factor of running into Cass like this was finally occurring to Harley. "Why are you here, anyway?" she asked, with a frown and a major tilt of her head, looking at Cass, then down the street, then back to Cass again. "This isn't your usual hunting ground, there's no rich people, or tourists, or rich tourists!"
Cass immediately went a little shifty and evasive, fidgeting with a sleeve. "I dunno, change of scenery?"
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