Harley Quinn (
totalwildcard) wrote2024-08-05 03:00 am
Needful Things Building; Monday
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!)
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!)

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Because he was hilarious.
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Hey, she'd just remembered she could move, too! What a convenient time to shift on his lap a little.
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"From you?" Marc asked. "Because that would be worth more."
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Extra valuable, obviously, given her track record of distraction.
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General 'you'.
Meaning her.
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She had a guess, but it was fun trying to get him to state wants outright!
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But her being in a good mood with that offer did affect his choice out of a lot of other available options. He brushed his thumb across her lips. "Wouldn't mind."
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Before the tip of her tongue flicked out for a little lick at his thumb. Because. Reasons.
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And then swirled her tongue around it a little while smirking, because she wasn't a monster.
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He could use words for clarity but, well, it was Marc. He did better with action.
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She wasn't subtle with the heat she brought into the kiss with her, either. Or in how she shifted on his lap, putting the promise of friction on a better spot.
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He had a habit of kissing her breathless, and she was just repaying the favor.
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Of course, that was also accompanied by a noise of her own, as she dove right back into the kiss, grinding down to meet his rocking. If that also meant taking advantage for her own self of the seam in her cutoffs, so be it! No one claimed she was being selfless here.
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And that was why they made such a good team.
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