Apartment Above Needful Things; Tuesday Late Morning

[totalwildcard]

Harley had spent most of the weekend on the mainland. Not just Baltimore, either - she'd taken the kid out on a little road trip. Yanno, for life lessons! Most of them criminal, of course, but that was sort of how their mentorship worked, so someone else could handle the boring stuff. Anyway, they'd had fun!

So much of it, in fact, that Harley had only landed back on the island late on Monday evening. Technically probably Tuesday? Which meant that after she'd passed out and slept her fill, the day was already well on its way. She rolled groggily out of bed, shambled her way into the living room --

And groaned when she saw the glitter bomb still waiting on the coffee table, and not downstairs attached to the front door ready to explode on Frenchie if he showed up again this week. Whether he'd already shown up or not, Harley was not in a state to go set it up now.

She shuffled around some more, in search of her phone, which she found discarded on the kitchen counter. No calls, no messages apart from Cass informing her she'd ordered breakfast delivery on Harley's account. Harley looked at the phone for a long moment more anyway, tapping her thumb against the side of it in thought. Groggy, still sleepy, not yet caffeinated thought.

And pulled up a number she'd had for a while but never actually texted before.

(Successfully, anyway. There was that time on her birthday.)

You awake yet?

(expecting one but can be open for other stuff as well!)

Comments

[totalwildcard]

Harley's gaze was briefly drawn with his to their hands, but then it returned to his face again, and studied that.

"Cool," she echoed.

[hasaknightjob]

"You're a good fighter," Marc said. Deliberately and obviously understating things. "I guess you can join sometimes."

[totalwildcard]

"And maybe next time you'll pay enough attention to know I'm more than good," Harley teased, but it came out on the soft side, and a little distracted.

She brushed her thumb against his hand.

[hasaknightjob]

"Only seen ya once," Marc pointed out. "Could've been a fluke."

He was aware that could also apply in reverse to him. He was also not looking like he minded what she was doing with her thumb.

[totalwildcard]

"So you don't believe me about the guards?"

There, she hit the tone a little more steady. Teasing.

"Ya gotta see to believe?"

[hasaknightjob]

"I believe ya about the guards," Marc said. "You and me working together we need more practice with."

Truth? Excuse to spend more time together? Whatever.

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah we do," Harley replied in a way that seemed to make it sound both genuine and like an innuendo, further muddling the waters there. Whatever! "I'm game."

And with that bit of something light as a cover, she dared to bring their joined hands up to where she could sneak a press of her lips against his knuckles.

[hasaknightjob]

Harley was able to do that very thing without problem. With his phone now away, Marc put his free hand on her hip for somewhere to rest it. And to hold her. For balance.

"Getting a list of shit I could see you do," Marc said.

[totalwildcard]

"Ooh, a list?"

What, of course Harley was going to act all curious about that! She was also going to press a few more idle kisses over the back of his gand.

[hasaknightjob]

"Roller derby, the silk thing - " Marc rattled off.

Was he ever going to remember the full name of "the silk thing"? Great question!

[totalwildcard]

Maybe if he found it mesmerizing enough upon seeing it to care enough?

Harley nodded along - and then gave a soft huff (against his skin), and said, "That's two things, that's not a list. But maybe it's just your natural tendency to be concise and efficient shining through!"

[hasaknightjob]

"How many you need for a list?" Marc asked. Because he was going to be a pain about this now. Even as he was rubbing his thumb against her hip.

[totalwildcard]

"At least three!" Harley replied readily, like she'd been prepared for the question. "Two is just a pair, it's literally a couple of things, not a list!"

Did giving the side of his wrist a little graze of her teeth help bring her point home any? No? Didn't matter.

[hasaknightjob]

"Two things can be pretty good though," Marc pointed out. Just for her.

[totalwildcard]

"But not a list."

Sorry, vexing mode had been engaged for some reason.

[hasaknightjob]

"More than one thing, it's a list," Marc said. Because he could be a pain too. A pain who was smiling, but a pain.

[totalwildcard]

"Are we a list?" Harley shot back.

If she'd thought about it any further, she might not have, but that was the Harley Quinn M.O. Anyway, she was still busying herself with nips and kisses to his wrist.

[hasaknightjob]

"We're not things," Marc replied. There was a so there implied at the end of it. He was mainly watching what she was doing though.

[totalwildcard]

"I dunno, I think you're many things," Harley retorted, and licked over the pulse point. No reason beyond that she wanted to.

And because it made for a good image for him, especially when she smirked at him right after.

[hasaknightjob]

"Like what?" Marc asked. Though he was smiling at her. Guess the view wasn't bad.

[totalwildcard]

"A chair," Harley replied, impishly, complete with an absolutely necessary faint rock of her hips. "A fighter, obviously." Her head tilted against their hands, the very picture of someone thinking really hard about things. "A pillow. A weighted blanket! Delivery guy. Absolute champion fucker."

Was the wistful sigh necessary? Yes.

"Wall integrity testing apparatus." And she touched her free hand to the one he had on her hip. "Holder..."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc maybe snickered a little. "Hearing a lot of furniture in there."

[totalwildcard]

Music to Harley's ears, honestly.

She smirked wider. "'Cause you're so comfy and it's on my mind!"

[hasaknightjob]

"What I'm most known for," Marc said, and there was a grin he couldn't help so oh well. "Being comfy."

[totalwildcard]

"I don't give any number or size of shits what you're known for," Harley replied without missing a beat, leaning in a little. "I know what I know."