Needful Things Building; Monday

[totalwildcard]

The Dream House was gone by morning, replaced again with the antique store and the apartment above it, both with all four walls intact, and the color scheme decidedly less pink.

And in said apartment, late in the morning, Harley woke up with a start. Like fully bolting upright and everything, with a gasp.

"... Barbie looks like me."

She couldn't believe it. She brought her hands up to her face, smooshing her cheeks.

"Like me."

This jaw! These cheekbones under her skin!

Something about it was making her eyes well up.

At least, until something else about the weekend came back to her. "Bruce!" Oh, God, he'd been eating something obviously plastic, all weekend long! Harley scrambled out of bed to find him - only to, yes, find him curled up in one of his usual spots, seemingly right as rain.

She still ended up taking him on a long walk around town. It took a while for her to be convinced that just as magically as he'd turned into a toy dog for the weekend, whatever the plastic stuff he'd been eating (and, to be fair, pooping out at what seemed like an alarming rate for a fully functioning gastric system) had just as magically turned into actually edible stuff in his guts when he'd turned back. He seemed fine! He was leaving behind dog shit that was the usual level of disgusting!

Still, between the long walk and then breakfast for both him and herself, the morning had already turned into the afternoon by the time something occurred to Harley, and sent her bolting down the stairs into the store.

There, she found the display of dolls of varying ages and kinds.

And there, tucked near the back, was a Barbie. Harley carefully pulled her out from between a Victorian-ish porcelain doll and a fairly creepy 1950s baby, and smiled down at her.

It was a little watery, but there was no one here to see it, was there?

"Oh, there you are."

Something in her chest ached a little.

(expecting one!)

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc let her hold him. He listened to everything she said. It resonated in him. It didn't vanish into the ether. It was probably going to echo back at him in the future too, a reminder even when she wasn't there to say it in person.

But there was a tightness in his chest and voice as he said, "I'm not me without the rest of it. You don't get me without it."

Both as a concept, and as a result.

[totalwildcard]

"Of course not," Harley agreed. Easily, even with how serious she remained. "You got shaped into your crazy and then the crazy shaped you, even if your crazy isn't all you are or all you have."

She should know, after all. For professional and for private reasons, both.

Her thumb brushed against his cheek.

"And ya don't see me running back to Gotham to try and find that guy, now do ya?"

[hasaknightjob]

The tightness eased, almost as though her thumb was brushing it away. Though of course it was more than that.

"'cause he's not better looking?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley shrugged, light and easy. All things considered, anyway.

"Probably doesn't fuck like a hurricane, either."

[hasaknightjob]

That earned her a laugh. Also a kiss. Warm, soft. Saying he'd heard the rest of it without using words to do so. It was Marc, any acknowledgement at all was a big step.

[totalwildcard]

And was going to be welcomed as one, too.

Plus it wasn't exactly terrible for Harley to kiss him back, all warm and soft in return as well, her hands still cradling his face.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm not looking for another version of you either," Marc said. Because focusing on Harley was another way Marc could handle this. "Don't care where she's from."

[totalwildcard]

"You couldn't find one, anyway."

The multiverse begged to differ, probably, but see if Harley cared.

[hasaknightjob]

"Why would I want one when I've got the original?" Marc asked.

She was the original to him. What the multiverse had to say about it didn't matter.

[totalwildcard]

Harley grinned at him.

"Yeah, I'm stickin' with what I've got, too."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Because she could - and because he'd done it to her earlier, and she'd liked that.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'll allow it," Marc said. There was a smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

[totalwildcard]

"Oh, was I askin' for permission?" Harley teased, but with a smirk that was on the warm side. "Didn't realize."

[hasaknightjob]

"I did say I wasn't going to back away," Marc pointed out.

[totalwildcard]

"That's different," Harley claimed, for the hell of it. "Anyway, I'll take the permission this time, 'cause it does mean I get to keep ya."

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm kept now?" Marc asked.

Funny how he didn't sound like he minded.

[totalwildcard]

"Unless you don't wanna be."

How nice of her!

Also she'd heard his tone. Didn't really have any worries.

[hasaknightjob]

"What was that thing you said?" Marc asked. "Select people? Kinda like that."

Very select, actually.

[totalwildcard]

"Really select," Harley replied, all smug in that very Harley happy sort of way.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc thought about saying something about keeping in return. But given what Harley experienced with her ex he didn't want to run the risk of hitting tender spots about her freedom.

So instead he said, "Of course I'm gonna check on you."

[totalwildcard]

"It's 'of course' now?" Harley asked, meaning to have it sound teasing, a joke, a quip.

It came sounding just a little more touched than that. Not because of the sentiment, really, since that wasn't news (all pretense otherwise aside), but because he said it that openly.

"Really?"

[hasaknightjob]

"You're one of my people," Marc said. "So yeah."

[totalwildcard]

"Oh," Harley said.

Her expression wobbled a little. She'd blame the highly emotional day she'd had already.

"I'm not... usually anyone's people," she added, like she needed to explain something. That wobble, maybe, or the sudden tightness in her voice.

[hasaknightjob]

"You're one of mine," Marc said. "I give a shit about you."

Ever the poet, Marc Spector.

[totalwildcard]

It worked on Harley, that was the most important thing. Even if that meant she looked like she was about to cry again.

Right before she kissed him again, instead.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc was all for kissing. Heck, he could've handled more crying if she needed it too. He tried to make the kiss something solid. A silent way of saying he was there for whatever she needed.