Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry and Harley	By : Rihaan Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 35793 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Batman. All rights go to JK Rowling, DC Comics, and Warner Brothers Studios. No money is being made or transferred. Sadly.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Summary: What happens when The Great Blackgate Escape accidentally turns into Operation: Knightfall?
"This is far from over, you know."
"Oh, come on! Don't be so overdramatic! I mean, it was just a little – "
"Betrayal? Borderline treason? What part of that do you consider little?"
"You're acting like we betrayed God herself. He's not a world leader. He's not even legal. He's just a man."
"He was our team. He was on our side, our partner."
"He was NOT our partner! We were HIS subordinate! We are the lowest form of sidekick! We are the reserve sidekick."
"You know that's not true. We were the secret weapon."
"And how is that any different? That still makes us the backup! So tell me! We have nothing but time! Explain this to us. Because somehow, you know something we don't."
Raven – the original Raven, dawned in her purple cloak, glared at her emoticlones. "We're all on the same side, here. I'm just trying to... comprehend what the hell I just did." She held her head in her hands. "I'm trying to rationalize everything, and you're supposed to be helping me!"
Yellow Raven shook her head. "What's done is done. What you need to rationalize is damage control. Soon enough, either we confront the Titans, or they confront us."
Green scoffed. "We can take them. We're their secret weapon, aren't we?"
Purple Raven – the other purple Raven, more on the indigo scale – was vehemently shaking her head at the thought. "Are you kidding me?! We're not going to hurt our friends! We are not going to lay a finger on our – !"
"You're letting your initial instincts get the better of you," Yellow quickly interjected against the most sensitive emoticlone. "We should be ready for it, of course. But clearly, it's our last resort. Logic would suggest that Warlock would assist us, in whatever peril we face."
"And you trust him?" Gray's tone was incredulous, before covering her own mouth, afraid she had said something wrong.
"He returned Zatanna to us. He gave us full autonomy. Why would he give that back?"
Orange Raven snickered. "Not so intelligent, specs. It's painfully clear that he wants us to be his secret weapon. Have you even heard of a slee-per a-gent?" She accentuated each word, sounding out each syllable to help make it sink in.
It worked, giving the other Ravens pause, including the one who had the idea. It had crossed their minds at some point, but none of them were so crass as to really consider it as a possibility. "...Maybe," she finally admitted, and Orange grinned smugly. "But as Yellow just said, what's done is done." She closed her eyes, even in her own dream world, finally accepting her situation. "I can't go back."
The infinite zone inside her head was never in disarray – years of meditation had reined in her emotions in a way that, according to witnessing other humans, seemed like a miraculous feat.
Today, however, felt different. She felt turmoil. She felt trouble.
Her voices dared not speak. They were quiet. They weren't designed to be quiet, and yet, they had nothing to say.
Because she didn't have any idea what to think.
Zatanna would awake in her hotel room, while she herself was farther away than the magician could ever reach.
It felt like a good idea at the time. No one could hear her, or try to find her in outer space. Not even...
"I'm sorry, Kara."
She opened her eyes, and the white, dusty, dazzling surface of the Moon greeted her.
Raven uncrossed her legs, floating up off the surface. Slowly, the earth came into view – a sight that few mortals had ever witnessed, and taken for granted, and something she would miss dearly.
She let herself drift backwards, before turning around, her tears abandoned as drifting droplets. She had to leave before they got wind.
Gray Raven – Timidity – was the quietest of her emoticlones, and for very good reason. For all purposes, she was her second greatest weakness, as she held her more personal, guarded secrets.
However, while she was sure that Gray didn't have much to say before, she was surely making herself known now, by the tears stinging in her eyes and the cries she would never scream.
She was a mess, and she knew it.
Her rage – Raven Red, they called her - had been locked away, imprisoned in her mindscape for as long as The Warlock allowed it, so her power was all hers, and all her own. Her inner demon was now her puppet.
And it only cost her the freedom she had fought for all her life.
Trigon, her darkness, The Titans, and now, the one who identified himself as Harry Potter.
His pull reached far, impossibly so, but she was willing to test the limits of his grasp. She would never betray the friends she made on earth. She didn't know Batman or even his identity. The Titans, though – they were everything she had. Zatanna, and Diana were her friends and mentors. Kori and Komi were her friends. Kara was her friend.
And if her actions had led to their defeat... well, that would explain Gray's loud, silent outburst.
Her soul was no longer in her own hands – even if it ever was, at some point. And if she had just made a deal with the devil, then she was back to square one.
Something happened. She couldn't place her finger on what.
"Thanks for the warning," he muttered, looking off to the side before he frowned. "Right. She can't hear me." He said it with a wry smile, as if he found the concept of time space manipulation to be a practical joke. He looked up at the grey-skinned hero. "Time dilation."
She had done that before – accidentally, and when she really needed the sleep – but literally nothing had changed outwardly to tell her that it was happening right now. Everything just seemed a little quieter to her. "Why?"
"He's nearby. He's waiting to attack me. And if I go down, I can't tell you where Zatanna is." He held up a hand before she could take offense. "I'll tell you where she is. I'll take you there myself."
An indeterminate amount of time passed before she scowled. "Well?"
His face darkened. "I'm done worrying about him. I'm not going to kill him, but I'm not gonna let him catch me like this. You're welcome to help me."
"Are you giving me an ultimatum?"
He seemed to ponder it. "Yes. I suppose I am. But you of all people know how magic reacts to a personal threat." His green eyes narrowed. "This isn't your fight. This was the fight you were assigned to. You don't care one way or the other about Batman. You care about your friends. But right now, he seems more interested in the bigger picture. I'm just trying to get one of my friends back. You think he cares if one of yours gets captured? He'll tell you that she knew the risk."
She sneered. "She does. But if you want your friend back, I suggest you turn yourself in."
"I imagine he knows the answer to that. But he won't tell me, or bargain. And if I turn myself in, you know I'll just have you break me right back out."
Raven doubted that. She was positive that he could do it on his own just as easily. He was telling her that simply to remind her that he could. "So, you want me to turn on him? On my friends?"
He tilted his head. "Your friend? What's his name?" Silence. "Friends know each other's names, 'Rachel'. Because when you trust someone with your life, a mask shouldn't be the only face you recognize."
His words were grating on her, and even with her anger blocked out, she felt akin to frustration towards the Warlock. "And who do you expect me to trust? You?"
He shook his head. "I wouldn't. But then again, I'm wearing a mask."
She lowered her purple hood. "Then trust me. Give me my friend back. Please."
In return, the darkness began to recede from his face, black wiry webs uncrossing and crawling away from his green eyes. They held a curious tint, reflecting her own look, she was sure of it, before he ultimately nodded.
"Harry Potter," he finally said, and she blinked in surprise. "Master of Death. Time Traveller. Dimension Hopper. Fate's Cruel Plaything."
"Rachel." She pulled her hood back up and crossed her arms. "That's all you're getting until I see her again."
"But I already knew that," he grinned, and she found herself less annoyed, somehow. "And that's not even your name." He shook his head. "But you don't have a choice but to trust me. I'll make it easier for you."
He moved his hands so quick, she thought he was ready to strangle her again, until sound came rushing back to her, all at once, and his hands stilled.
Time was moving again, and she didn't think her opinions could change so much in such a short amount of it.
They shared a look. "Goodbye, Raven."
And then she was treated to the sight of his entrancing green eyes roll to the back of his head, before he collapsed, barely even registering the 'pop' of the rubber bullet striking Harry's back.
When the Batman landed in front of her, his eyes on his target without a first glance back at her, she considered her options.
When he crushed the remote in his hands, ensuring that her only link to Zatanna had been smashed in front of her, she made her choice.
"Where are you taking him?" She asked immediately. When he didn't reply, she amended her question. "Where can we take him?"
"Anywhere but Blüdhaven," was his only answer.
'And Zatanna?' she almost asked, but she already knew the answer.
'She knew the risks.' 'We'll find another way.' 'I'll get him to talk.'
Her fists tightened. With nary a thought, a black bubble emerged from her body, and quickly expanded across the rooftop, extending past the skyline, and beyond the ether.
Time was frozen - again.
She crossed her legs, floating atop the gravel, and began to think.
The time she actually gave to herself was more inconsequential than the time that would have passed otherwise. It was an easy decision.
Far easier than she hoped it to be.
Her drifting slowed to a crawl. With a growl, she turned her head, her eyes seemingly roaming earth's skyline.
Sure, he could possibly use her against her own team. As unlikely as it seemed, she would be an idiot to not take it as a percentage chance. Though it didn't mean she couldn't tell them everything they needed to know about it when – if – that day ever came.
'I can't fight this,' she considered, her glowing white dewy eyes focused on the planet she considered her true home. Her voice couldn't carry through space, but she needed to say it aloud – if only to hear it for herself. "But I will fix this."
Because Titans never give up. Diana may have told her those words a number of times, but Kara had shown her what they truly meant.
She was not going to let her – any of them – down.
Doctor Jonathan Crane, blissfully ignorant of the turbulent environment around him, hunched over several metal tanks with a grin of pride – if you could call it a grin.
They kept them. The insipid fools had actually kept his gas.
What was even better – they replicated it! They made several more tankards of his Fear juice!
Granted, it wasn't as potent as his own, but their batches were strong enough for what he had in mind.
A soft tapping on his shoulder interrupted his scheming, and he turned around to see a green tendril, its thorny surface very graceful in the presence of the lab equipment.
Crane nodded wordlessly, and several tendrils of the same size swarmed the room through the same door, each one grabbing a metal tank with a speed and efficiency that no man could hope to replicate.
As she probably intended. And Crane didn't mind that much.
Working on a team was not something he intended, but he would have been a fool to turn it down, after witnessing the chaos they caused around him.
And they didn't have to use even the slightest drop of fear. Just imagine how unstoppable they would be if they did?
In any other situation, Lockhaven Prison would have been a fortress.
After what happened to the neighboring city, Blüdhaven would have stepped up the security ten-fold. Perhaps, even the new vigilante might have stayed behind to confront them. But no, they, and he, couldn't afford to let themselves stay behind. They were in too much of an emergency state to ignore the chaos and maintain their posts.
Blackgate was a massive prison – the only one in Gotham, a massive city, the biggest in New Jersey – so if the population of such a prison suddenly shifted to zero, then one could assume that the former prisoners needed to get away as far as they could, if not to their former bosses, then to neighboring cities, such as... Blüdhaven.
Gotham's problem was everyone's problem. And if anyone else had a problem, Gotham had the spare resources. It was the life-blood of the community, much like Metropolis to New York.
Gotham served as priority. Just as the team preferred it.
"Took you long enough."
Harry paused from his untying of Eddie's feet and sent a guilty grin Harley's way, but the girl was far too distracted, sending her glower at Eddie like she had heat vision. 'Hate Vision,' he named it promptly.
"We could take a little longer, if you want." She crossed her arms, eyeing the non-descript cell, that only composed of a bed and a toilet – not even a desk! – and she felt a twinge of pity on him. The new guy didn't even bother to untie him, just threw him in a holding cell like a sack of potatoes and left. "Really, of all the clichés you had for late rescues, that was the one you chose?"
"Oh?" If his hands were unbound, she swore he would have been puffing out his chest at her in retaliation. Perhaps that was what he was doing in his mind, she figured. He was incredibly gifted at ignoring reality. "And what would you have said?"
Harley fanned her face with her gloved hands in dramatic fashion. "'Oh, thank the illogically existing God almighty! Thank you for not abandoning me when I got myself kidnapped. Snuck up on and apprehended like a common henchman! Gosh, you'd think with my sharp mind and wit, I might be able to escape by now, or at least untie myself! I mean Golly Gee Willikers, do you know what they do to smartasses like me in prison? My mind couldn't have possibly calculated the lack of callouses on my hand relative to the density of soap fast enough!'" She crossed her arms – something she knew he wished he could do right now – and sniffed. "Y'know, something like that."
Despite himself, Eddie grinned a toothy grin. "You know, you may find this hard to believe, but I missed you."
She leaned against her mallet, smirking down at him. "No, you didn't, Riddles. You missed the idea of me."
Harry shook his head, his shoulders shaking with mirth, and turned back to Eddie's bindings. The wires wrapped around Harry's wrist was busy spinning like a tiny saw, whirring against the twine that kept Eddie's wrists and feet bound. It was some very impressive material, keeping the self-proclaimed prodigy incapacitated. He made sure to pocket the stuff as it was cut loose. Considering the wires that Warlock kept wrapped around his body could cut through diamond in a matter of minutes, he found himself envious of the material Bruce had access to. Or could build.
He really needed to find a pensieve, and soon. He was getting bits and pieces of Wayne's memories, but never the full picture; and he was grateful for that, he didn't want full access to an entire life in an instant – like Hermione did, four years ago – especially someone as busy and prodigious as The Batman.
He was no stranger to witnessing the deaths of loved ones, so it wasn't anything too shocking he had seen so far, but an overload was entirely possible. A lesser man would have been easily sorted through in a matter of a couple of days, thanks to his Occlumency training, but Bruce Wayne's life was rather involved. The mental discipline of the man far exceeded his own, and Harry was more accomplished in his mind magicks than even Dumbledore and Voldemort.
For a man without magic, he had a power that Harry couldn't quite comprehend.
But now, he had the opportunity to better himself, if he had access to all of the man's memories – and the man himself.
Edward rubbed gently as his wrists, and popped his shoulders. "Ah, that's better." He looked back at Harry, watching the circular wire click around his left wrist. "My sincere gratitude and indebtedness," he grinned, nodding slightly.
Harley's eyes searched out Harry in a different manner. "You okay? Any headaches?"
He shook his head and waved in an airy way. "Just twinges. Aftershocks, I suppose." At the end of his wave, The Riddler's suit was restored, free of scruffiness. Pocketing the last of the binding material, he smiled at his inquiring lover. "I'm up for freeing another prison, however."
Harley bit her lip. They now had access to the fifth biggest prison in the northeast, and there was no one around who could stop them.
It was as if they were writing a book, and Chaos was the main character. It couldn't have been set up any better for them.
"I have an idea," she muttered slowly. "How about instead of releasing them, we have a little fun, first?"
Selina slumped over the console, resting her head in her hands as the images were splayed before her. Never had she seen so many cars flashing red and blue, all lumped together, stuck in traffic.
Only her mask was removed, something she usually never did until the job was done, but she found herself overwhelmingly frustrated.
Forced into the temporary occupation of 'watcher' while the others were out and about wasn't a problem for her. There wasn't much she could do at the moment, even she could admit to that.
Help Harry and Harley break out Eddie? No thanks. She didn't feel an immediate need to run to his rescue, especially after their fight this morning. She could tolerate the man, but he needed a remote control. At the very least, a mute button.
Or an explosive collar. She bristled at the suggestion he made earlier. She had no doubt that he came up with the idea with her in mind, and not Harley's pets as he had insinuated.
With a delicate gloved finger, she fiddled with the Kevlar-like linings on her suit, tracing back and forth up her arms. She felt every tingle of the touch, as if the suit was part of her body. An extra skin, however creepy that might sound.
She considered the other options given to her. Help the escaping convicts fight off the approaching guards and police? Around a burning building, no less? Simply a waste of time. She didn't even need to list off the reasons why she didn't want to do that.
Help Batman escape?
...
It had crossed her mind. Once. Or twice.
She shook her head. It was best not to dwell on those thoughts.
Make that three times.
Help Ivy relocate Crane? The man creeped her out more than Eddie, if it was possible. But he seemed like a nice guy, from what Pam had mentioned. If there was ever a competent judgement of men that Selina could trust, it was Pamela's. Her own track record wasn't so stellar, so she depended on Pam's word over her own.
Her skin tingled under her finger, and she sighed raggedly.
Upsetting Harleen earlier that morning was something she never wanted to repeat. The girl had a way of making her feel guilty, no matter how many times she told herself she was innocent.
Not that Selina had even tried to tell herself that. She knew she fucked up.
Only an idiot wouldn't be able to see just how much the mature girl loved Pamela, despite the new addition to their relationship. To make fun of that so recklessly was just asking for a beatdown. She was sure it would have come to blows if she persisted, and she wasn't a hundred percent sure she could take the spitfire. She briefly questioned what Ivy was feeding her. Probably the same thing she was feeding her plants. She wouldn't ask – she learned her lesson – but it was fun to theorize.
Insulting Harley's loyalty to Poison Ivy; it just wasn't something one could do without repercussions. She knew she had been pushing it, with her (harmless!) flirting, but it seemed that the girl had reached her limits with Selina's supposed insensitivity.
So, that marked off another on the list of people she could no longer tease. And that was what frustrated her.
Selina Kyle was a sensible woman. She had likes, hobbies, a consistent schedule. She loved cats, but that didn't make her as crazy as people suspected, nor did it completely define her. Before she ever donned any suit, she just had trouble connecting with people. Living most of her life on the streets, she found it difficult to trust people again, especially with her initial 'agreement' with her landlord to get her first apartment, until a few hidden cameras settled it. When strays like Sasha came into her life, or rather her window, she was amazed at how personable and friendly the orange tabby was to complete strangers. That was around the time she was transfixed to the television like the rest of Gotham, watching a man escape from police in a swarm of bats, allowing himself to be carried off into the morning sun and out of their grasp.
Only a mask could have allowed him to do something that batshit crazy. Only complete anonymity would remove the sanity of what could have been a normal man, who would have never done that otherwise. It was something she could say for a lot of heroes and villains.
That was how the idea began forming. Well, that, and a need to pay her rent. No one took advantage of Catwoman. Blackmail could only last for so long, and one day, the fat, balding man that was her landlord could wake up one morning, not caring of the pictures Selena had on him, or try to get the pictures himself. Selina wasn't an idiot. The landlord had to have a key to the apartment, after all.
Sensible Selina Kyle became Cat Burglar. According to Vicki Vale, anyway. 'Catwoman' wasn't much better, but she would've liked to have created her own name, and she preferred Catwoman.
Selina Kyle, the sensible one, could admit that Catwoman was kind of a slut. Hence the frustration.
Selina didn't have friends. Catwoman had a network. Selina worked at Pauli's Diner for a brief stint, before not conforming to the boss's questionable sanitary rules. Catwoman was a multi-millionaire, the greatest thief the notorious city's ever known.
Selina didn't even have a lover. Catwoman had property.
She considered herself bisexual, but she much preferred the company of women. It was natural for her to trust women more.
Catwoman couldn't care less. She used her body as a weapon, and got what she wanted. Of course, she had standards, but she knew what was required of her, as well. She merely exchanged one favor for another.
Her eyes hazed over, her finger slowly crawling to the valley between her breasts.
Catwoman was a dominatrix – it wasn't just some cheap gimmick to make the suit work. She liked being in control – always. That wasn't a secret, and if it was, her whip would be very quick to point it out.
And if the whip wasn't a good enough influencer, then the strap-on definitely voiced her intentions.
The landlord didn't like it at first, but she really didn't care about his pleasure. Especially when the roles were reversed before the transformation.
Vaginal sex just wasn't for Selina anymore; not in the traditional sense, anyway. She rarely felt the desire to be filled by a man. There was a distinct lack of power in the act, and she never wanted to give up that control. Power was her aphrodisiac.
And of course, she was sure the moment Harley learned of that fact, a 'cat/pussy' joke would come bubbling up in some variation that she was too horny to visualize at that very moment, because she was more focused on the idea of how Harley would learn that fact. Namely, when Selina introduced the strap-on.
Her lazy grin faded.
Selina had failed; pretending to be what she wasn't, pretending to be a predator. Harley had rejected Selina. But Catwoman always got what she wanted.
And Catwoman wanted Harleen Quinzel under her. Pleading for her. Screaming for her. Purring.
Pamela didn't seem to mind the proposals at all. In fact, she was almost encouraging. But she wasn't interested in a chase that she could easily catch, even if it was in the form of the most beautiful and sexiest redhead that she had ever met.
Lately, she hadn't been so responsive, however. The challenge was born anew, but before she could even begin the chase, she might have lost.
And therein lies the problem.
The Warlock. Harry Potter.
He had taken the spot that had been promised to her. Sharing a bed with both women, while she was left out in the cold – like the stray that she was.
She thought that they would at least have the decency to tell her. She thought they were all close enough to at least give her a heads up! Not as close as she wanted, but...
She shook her head wildly, her yellow eyes focusing again on the screen. Not realizing that she had been pinching her left nipple through her suit for the last half-minute.
She had considered Harleen and Pamela her friends.
But Selina had no friends.
Only Catwoman could ever get what Selina ever wanted.
But right then, they both just wanted to get off.
Slowly unzipping her suit – with a zipper that Harry ensured could only move by her own hands and gloves – she exposed the bare skin underneath, mildly upset that he had stripped her of her sports bra. Support of that size and strength were not easy to come by, and she wasn't going to ask him for any.
Perhaps being so exposed in the control room, near a wizard who could materialize at any time was not the best idea she had, but she was a bit of an exhibitionist. Besides, he could appear anywhere at any time at all, including her bedroom. For that, she was always on edge. For just a moment, however brief, she needed to relax her tense muscles.
Her body immediately stiffened as she pinched a pale pink nipple, and she let out a whimper.
God, she didn't know what material her new suit was made out of, but it felt so fucking good on her skin.
Her other hand slipped under her suit to rub at herself, and she didn't even notice the lack of a thong, her loss of the entire set of matching underwear.
What she did notice, however, was the absolute lack of pubic hair.
'Well, that's fucking new.'
She growled, her frustration elevated to new heights, but her arousal didn't dwindle any. With a grunt, she quickly thrust two fingers into herself, her gloved fingers feeling absolutely exquisitewithin her.
'Don't think about him. Don't think about him.'
So used to doing this late at night in her usual catsuit, she didn't once stop to consider the dangers of using a brand new, magically powered suit; the retractable claws didn't even register as a hazard. She only knew how good she felt, and how much better her digits were making her feel.
Her thumb slid over her newly hairless mound, and glided through the valley of her slick lips. Her yellow eyes hazed over, feeling her own wetness. She was soaked – not a shock, but considering the lack of underwear, she was surprised she didn't hear her excitement sloshing about in her boots.
She blamed it on the tightness of the suit. She could even blame her arousal on the goddamn suit, if she was creative enough.
Batman never gave her this problem. The flirting that they had done over the two years they knew each other, was harmless. From her side, at least. She had found him a little too... dominant, for her tastes. They wouldn't clash well, and she knew it.
But on the other hand... she loved the chase. He was an even bigger tease than Harley and Ivy combined. The challenge thrilled her, the hunt excited her.
Harry Potter... That man just confused her.
A sudden whimper escaped her lips as her gloved fingers scraped against her g-spot, and she let out a quick whine.
Fucking the landlord – Tony, was it? – was her first act of a rebel. It inspired her to make the catsuit – or, at the very least, the theme of the catsuit. She could have made a small, cotton number, something thin and breathable and cheap, but that act of taking her power back inspired the leather.
Causing that bastard pain was a pleasure that she had never felt before. It wasn't the act of penetrating him by force, it was the act of shame as she looked down at him, making him suck her cock.
It was no question, he deserved it. She didn't think she could've ever forced herself on an innocent. And, according to the law in Gotham, she didn't even rape him, as men somehow couldn't be raped by women.
She felt she should've been more famous than she was, if someone bothered to look into her a little more.
A new vision crept into her mind. Harry Potter, The Warlock, his beautiful wiry frame bent over in front of her, no longer back-talking and outsmarting, but instead, learning his place, taking her artificial cock in his 'arse', as they say, his attitude a mere shell of itself as he whimpered, in pain and disgrace, his long hair barely enough to get wrapped in her fingers as she donkey-punched the most powerful man in Gotham, slamming into him with the grace and elegance of the greatest thief in history.
She could steal the heart of the Warlock. She would take him.
One heel rested on the edge of her desk as she closed her eyes, biting her lip to stay quiet, whimpering into her orgasm. As her slim digits pumped back and forth into her needy quim, rolling her hips forward in Harley's favorite chair, she took the time to be thankful that she wasn't a squirter.
She twitched in the seat, slowly lowering herself until she relaxed, slumped over. 'That was good.'
Dragging her finger up from her sensitive – kitty – up her hard stomach and between the valley of her breasts, she nipped at her gloved fingers delicately.
With Harry Potter underneath her, she could have everything she wanted by proxy. Harley and Ivy, of course; but also, Bruce fucking Wayne, the night vigilante and billionaire playboy himself.
She suckled on her finger, not really tasting herself anymore, trapped in her thoughts. It was a nice pipedream, she supposed. Enslaving an Alien; Making him her sissy boi bitch; Taking his developing harem as her own, until Gotham was hers. Selina doubted the whole idea, entirely. It was impossible, at best.
Catwoman welcomed the challenge. And she always got what she wanted.
She reclined back in the chair, crossing her legs as she pondered. Her barely bound breasts out for anyone to see. Not that she was worried – control rooms, built for monitoring and security, tended to lack actual cameras.
It had been radio silence for a while, and she wasn't worried about him... popping in or whatever. Though it would jumpstart her seduction process.
No, she decided. She wasn't ready to handle him – or them, for that matter. With a listless sigh, she zipped back up her suit.
Her frustration was still there, but she was far from bored anymore.
Her nose twitched, and she quickly turned to her side.
Sasha, her curious brown-spotted tabby, sat still on her hind legs, her head tilted to the left.
Selina let out a breathless chuckle, and held out her arms, which the cat easily jumped into. "Don't think I forgot about you, baby."
Her most fearless cat only purred in response, forgiving her mistress in favor of curling into the soft leather of her suit, her tail swishing against her hand.
She didn't question how Sasha got into the room, nor did she hear the door close behind her.
Harry checked his watch. He wasn't entirely sure if the damn thing was broken or not. Finding himself in Gotham for only a few days, he felt that he had spent half his life in the crime-ridden city.
Actually, he hadn't seen much crime in his short stay. He hadn't really met anyone new, either. No robbers, no handlers, no murderers. Sure, the prison should count, but that's where he expected to see criminals. And, even then, Harley was the one that met them. He was busy taking on the police, disguised as his red-and-green-ette girlfriend.
"Huh."
Harley turned away from the monitor, tilting her head backwards to see him standing behind her, a curious look on his face. "What's up?"
He shook his head, stepping forward to look over her shoulder. "Nothing, I guess. I just... I feel like I've been missing what this city has to offer. You and Pam and Vicki keep telling me how awful this city is and how evil they are, and how the heroes are always out patrolling and fighting – maybe I'm missing something?"
Harleen pondered Harry's words. "Well, you've only been here three days. There was just a bomb threat a week ago. And you've met the guy that caused that whole mess. Were you expecting a super villain?"
Again, he shook his head. "Maybe I'm just too used to all of the... erm, chaos, in my world. We have dragons, you know."
"Be careful what you wish for... I mean, we have supervillains here. They're just not here, here."
"Metropolis, right?" Again, he could only get glimpses of the memories, but they seemed to come to him when it seemed relevant. "And where is that?"
"Across the pond," she muttered absently, her eyes back on the screen.
"...Europe?"
"Hm? Oh, no. A literal pond. A lake, I guess. We're connected by a bridge."
"And there's never a bit of a crossover?"
"Rarely," she shrugged, unconcerned. "They all have their own territories. Like fucking drug dealers or something. The Bat has Gotham and the Titans have Jump City. Sometimes, the nearby towns might need some help, but..." she made a little hum, "it's just robbers and drug problems in the boonies." She sighed, pushing back her chair. "And we're in! We should have full access, now!"
Harry nodded, and without a word, faded away, only to reappear with Edward.
Harley narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend. "So how do you switch between the popping and the fading, and why did the popping almost kill us?"
"Almost kill you?" Eddie questioned, before yanking his elbow out of Harry's grasp and stepping away. "How did you almost die? I didn't feel anything."
"The popping is Apparition," Harry started to explain, ignoring Riddler. "Basic magic. Throughout the years, it's been taught incorrectly, to encourage the loud popping sounds when someone disappears and appears. Security reasons, I reckon. Don't want anyone appearing silently in someone's home or anything. Most important places have anti-apparition wards, however. Most houses have it keyed to a bloodline and a guestlist. It's a simpler way to get from place-to-place in a pinch. I guess I'm just more used to it because I've done it longer." He smiled apologetically at her, and dammit if she couldn't forgive him.
"Okay," she nodded, "and I guess what you just did is not that? It was completely silent. Is that one of those special powers that only you have?"
"Hermione and me," he quickly corrected her, and she snorted. "It comes with my Animagus form. Shadow Panther; not a normal creature. As the name suggests, I can travel through darkness. You could find a shadow in the brightest room if you look hard enough."
"So... you can move anywhere at any time?"
"Not across dimensions, if you're wondering. And it must be somewhere I've been before, or can visualize easy enough. Same rules for Apparition, but some enhancements. I don't have to contort my body, or getting a running start or anything. And there's a limit to how many I can take with Apparition, and a distance limit."
"Shadow Warping," she clarified, mostly to herself. "You need a trading card system."
Harry chortled, pulling at his sleeves. "You're having fun naming all of my abilities. I wouldn't be averse to you making the cards yourself."
"I'll think about it – when we're less busy, I guess."
"I think it's about time to wind down, anyway. I think we've done enough."
"Almost," she clarified, pushing away from the computer. "How's the server room looking, Riddles?"
The man in the bowler hat looked amused at his new nickname. "Everything is working as anticipated – of course. Blüdhaven is under our complete and utter control." He giggled sinisterly – and only Harry and Harley could see the contradiction in it. "No one can break my encryption. Not even that punk."
"That punk has a name."
Riddler's face fell, and Harry looked around for the source.
One by one, the monitors blinked into fuzzy static, and the reception was lost to the live feed to the prison. "Black Robin. Sorry we couldn't meet face-to-face."
Harley eyed the monitors with interest, before abruptly pressing the power button.
Instead of turning off, however, she was treated to the sight of a black-hooded person, sitting close to the picture. The film was grainy, so she couldn't see the face, and she would put money on it that the picture was intentionally choppy and distorted.
"...Monitors ain't s'posed ta do that."
"Monitors can do whatever you want it to. Well, whatever I want it to. You're not the only kid with magic around here."
Harley winced at the heavily synthesized voice. "You're a kid? Sounds like ya tried to give yaself puberty! At least turn it down, will ya?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. AM I BEING TOO LOUD FOR YOU!?"
The high-pitched feedback rolled throughout the prison, And Harley felt lightheaded, swaying on her feet as she jumped out of the chair. "YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE-!"
"Harley," Harry spoke calmly, touching her shoulder. "Allow me." He flicked his hand, and the ambient sounds ceased in an instant. "Tell me, Black Robin. How did you get in so easily?"
Though he couldn't see it, he could practically feel the smirk pointed at him. "I allowed you what you wanted to see. These monitors aren't even hooked up to the prison control." A dark chuckle seeped through the rooms. "You're connected to my network. My prison. You didn't even notice a delay in your keyboard - which isn't even plugged in, by the way." The figure leaned closer, only the curve of his hood being seen in the darkness. "I've logged every change Riddler made to the servers, so it was no problem changing it back. You sent me a warning earlier today. A threat. Now here's my promise. Give yourself up, and I won't take immense pleasure in taking you down and destroying each of you."
"I don't know if ya heard, but he already tried that." Harley rubbed her temples, her head ceasing to vibrate. "They refused his offah."
"A threat is not an offer. It's a threat."
"That sounds familiar," Harry muttered. In fact, this whole situation was starting to feel like a sense of déjà vu. "Did Batman train you to tell me that, by any chance?"
"No. Common sense did."
"Did he even tell you what I did? Why you should dedicate your time to hating me?"
"I don't hate you," the voice quickly countered, and he couldn't tell how sincere the statement was or not, due to the modifier. "You've only killed almost forty police officers, broke out an entire prison, and destroyed a landmark in the past three days." Sincerely sarcastic, then.
"That sounds completely reasonable," Harry nodded. "And completely wrong."
"...What the hell did you two do in my absence?"
Harley turned to the man in green. "A lot more and a lot less than what he said, trust me."
"That... that didn't answer my question in the slightest."
"Look," Harry tried to reason, holding up his hands placatingly, expecting they were being watched, "I implore you to check your sources before you go accusing people of murder. That's all. I'm not a murderer."
"Oh, I apologize. Kidnapper. Not murderer. They're not dead, but you have them held against their will in a giant pit of vines, and no one knows how many are dead. Or do you just blame Ivy for it?"
"I don't know where all this hostility is comin' from," Harley shook her head, her black-painted lips in a frown. "Is this because we kidnapped ya boss?"
If there was any surprise, the faceless hero hid it well. "You think you're amusing, right? Causing a breakout? Destroying property? Jokers like you shouldn't be given the attention you have. I'm here to put a stop to it."
"Oh?" Harry crossed his arms, a heavy frown suddenly forming. "Put a stop to it? Good. I was looking for a challenge." Reaching out, his hand found Harley's, who gave it a firm squeeze. With his other hand, he beckoned for Edward to come closer. "Black Robin, despite your rather crude way of introducing yourself, I am indeed excited to meet you. And I do look forward to seeing you again. But threatening my family will end this little spat quicker than I want. Allow me to show you."
As soon as the Riddler was within reach, Harry had a grip on his shoulder.
If a pop was an exclamation, then shadow warping, as Harley dubbed it, was barely a whisper. It was subtle, and so natural, Harry didn't even know that he was doing it the first few times he discovered it, nor did Hermione. It was an art.
Harry stepped back, his eyes fixed on the monitor, before he was against the wall in the well-lit surveillance center.
Eyes glowing, he sunk into darkness.
Raven sat in silence as Zatanna paced back and forth, scowling. A small bunny was in her crossed legs, its little head moving in sync with her gentle stroking. Buddy preened when she tickled behind his ear, unaware and uncaring of the tension in the room.
She felt envy for the small bunny rabbit.
"You gave him up."
"I did."
"You let them kidnap Batman."
"I did."
"And..." she hesitated, pausing instep. "Warlock controls you? You think he's got a spell on you right now?"
"I don't think it works like that. He's just... he's my master, now." It felt far too strange to say it like that, but it was true. "He would have made me give up Batman anyway. I don't mean this to sound callous, but... what would you have done?"
"I'd save you. Whatever deal I needed to, I'd get you the hell away from him." She sighed tiredly, looking up at the ceiling of their shared hotel suite. "And that's doing the exact opposite of my training. I'm supposed to do whatever I can to save the citizens, but our fellow peers are fair game, I guess. Sure, working together, we're a team, but when shit goes sideways, every super for themselves."
"Zatanna..."
"I know, I know! I mean, that's not what they tell us exactly, but... our options are limited. We don't live by the same rules. I'm not supposed to be a hostage. When I get kidnapped, it's 'getting close to the enemy.' I mean, I should know the risks, right? I'm a soldier. We're soldiers. But if anything ever happened to you, Rachel, then I'm getting you back. Diana taught me what Batman didn't want to. We dedicate our lives to this, that doesn't mean it's forfeit. We are not fodder. Titans stand together."
She turned expectantly towards the violet-haired half-demon, a hand on her hips. "Which – I guess – is why we have to get him back. We need the rest of the team for this."
Raven chewed on her lip, her hand stilled against the bunny's downy white fur. "Are you going to – tell them anything?"
"Batman was kidnapped, end of story. I don't think Diana would be too mad at you, but it's not something they need to know, yet. Plus it's – it's kinda embarrassing, y'know?"
Raven could see the vulnerability in the older girl's eyes, and felt a tinge of remorse.
Zatanna, for all of her meta-human abilities, was not as powerful as the rest of the Titans – and how could she? She was the only one without natural flight, super strength, speed, teleportation and... well, firepower. She was a girl with a spell book. Never mind she was the only one with the ability to use it, and it was what set her apart from normal people – it didn't compare to the Titans.
"Diana and Batman saw the potential in me." It was barely above a whisper, but Raven could hear it easily. It was another thing that Zatanna didn't have – super hearing. "I don't have much, but I know I can help. I'm not doubting he would've tried to save me in his own special way, but the man's so goddamn stubborn, it hurts him sometimes. I'm glad you took the shortcut, but there's no telling what he has in store for him, or you."
"Do we have a plan?"
"Hey, I've got to be good for something, right? I've got a plan. I noticed it when he was choking me." She crossed her arms, her denim clad rear bumping against the dresser, standing across from her. "I told you that he had to be getting his power from something, and he didn't even put a concealment spell on it. That ring. I sensed a lot of power in that ring. I think that's where he gets all that magic. And we're gonna steal it."
"We? You don't want me to sit this one out? I won't be of much help if he knows I'm there. I don't want to hurt you."
She shook her head, reaching behind her to run her fingers around the rim of her top hat. "No. If he's gonna control you, he can apparently just call for you from anywhere. I've got a better idea in mind."
Captain James Gordon was utterly and completely stupefied. Really, he was stunned more than a spell could ever achieve.
The day started hellishly, and it all went downhill from there. He had seen a lot of things on his normal beat, but not quite as bizarre as what he was seeing now.
Or, rather, did not see.
Checking the transceiver every other minute, sending out a signal to the beat cops and getting completely calm reactions back, he wondered, for a few seconds, if all of them were crooked.
It was impossible. It was inconceivable that absolutely everyone that escaped Blackgate – and it was a considerable number – had decided to lay low.
All of them. Not one crime relating to Blackgate had been committed since the breakout, and not one escapee caught.
Well, sure, there were some reports of shoplifting, but even that caused some massive confusion. Blackgate held the worst of the worst, and getting them off the streets were priority, so reports of shoplifting food and other necessities took a backseat.
And then the reports started rolling in. All of them about the same household appliances – utensils, toilet paper, food, clothes, shaving cream and razors – all by nameless, faceless men. Not one detail could be shared by eye-witnesses, except that they were all men. One store employee managed to get out that he could be wearing orange, but it couldn't be corroborated.
Former robbers, murderers, rapists, gangsters and drug addicts and dealers, possibly armed and dangerous, all planning - what? Bingo night?
With a tired grimace, he stomped out his last cigarette and went down from the roof, ready to take a shower and head home.
Maybe take Vicki up on that apartment offer in Metropolis?
An hour later, his hand was on his trench coat when he paused.
Wait.
"No..."
Abruptly turning around, he marched towards the commissioner's office. Without preamble, he let himself in, bursting through the door.
"Gordon – what the fuck are you – "
"Save the reprimands for later," he said forcefully, reaching over his desk and turning on the radio. "You need to hear this."
"Previously, I told you that the Warlock was arrested and detained at the prison, and Commissioner Gillian Loeb, and our impeccably ignorant Mayor Wilson Klass, refused to give him a trial or meet with the Femme Fatale…"
"Jesus, Gordon. Rub the salt in, whydoncha? You tryin' to get fired?"
The Captain only grunted, staring hard at the radio broadcast by Vicki Vale. He didn't know where the specific part of the message was, and it had been playing on repeat since the live broadcast (which they were still nowhere close to finding the source location, and thus, no way to shut it down). "You need to hear this, Loeb," he repeated, ignoring the bottle of half-finished Jack Daniels on his desk. He could've used a drink, too.
"Gotham has never been safer than it has in years. There have been safeguards put in place to ensure such a promise. Let me preface this breaking news at that. Whether you choose to believe it, or not, is up to you."
"Now why would she say something like that?" He questioned, shaking his head. It seemed so obvious, now. "They broke out a prison! Why tell them something like this unless it was just to screw with us?"
" - surrounded the prison in thick vines, not unlike the pit that holds the lives of thirty-seven men in blue in the Bowery."
"What? You think I forgot, dammit?"
"No. It's not what we forgot. It's what we didn't pay attention to." He turned up the volume.
"He sends along a message, which I will read for you: 'I have branded you. Your control has been willed over to me. You will find the consequences of your actions soon enough. I believe in second chances, but you won't live to see a third if you don't heed my words. Stand down. Do not fight. And if you have a problem with that, then find me.'"
He looked up at the still-confused commissioner. "That message wasn't for us. It was for the criminals. He's controlling them. He's controlling all of them."
Understanding finally dawned. "Oh," he eventually muttered. "So that was what Julian was ranting about."
"Wait – Julian – Julian Day? Calendar Man? What did he say?"
"He said he can't kill. Says he wants to, but he just can't. Wanted us to give him a knife to prove it."
"I..." he hesitated. "I think we should. Put me in there with him."
Harleen fell back into the couch, sighing happily. "That was productive. And exhausting!"
Pamela moved to lay across her lap, resting her head on the expanded couch's armchair. "I think we deserve a break."
"Not yet." With a tired groan, the body of a fully dressed and disguised Batman rolled out of the darkness into the well-lit living room, in front of their couch. Harry followed, fading into the room seamlessly, and leaned against the wall.
The two girls didn't move, looking at the caped man dispassionately. "Can't wait 'til tomorrow?" Harley muttered, not having the energy to even change out of her suit. "Stop time again or something. It can wait."
Ivy was compelled to agree with her girlfriend, but she was curious about something. Lazily reaching up to stroke her partner's neck, she tilted her head towards the unmoving body. "I've got nothing to say to him. But we should be prepared for the backlash, and ask him who to expect."
Harleen yawned, stretching her arms out. "If they haven't caught us yet, they won't find us now that we're laying low."
Selina, absently kicking out her leg as she plopped herself down on the arm of the chair closest to them, leaned forward. "I wouldn't mind knowing the identity of our new friend."
Edward, standing behind the couch, pursed his chapped lips. "For once, we agree on something, my felonious feline friend."
Vicki delicately wandered in from the kitchen, her posture stiff. "What do you plan to do with him?"
"Nothing too bad," Harry reassured her, noticing her tense stance, "not torturing him or anything." He crossed his arms, his trusted holly wand twisting in his fingers. Just in case. "But we need to put him somewhere." Biting his lip in thought, he took a glance around the packed room, realizing he was perfectly placed as the night's entertainment piece. "Perhaps we need a telly as well, while we're laying low. Keep ourselves updated beyond our mutual friend's inside information. I think it's time for some expansion." He looked at Ivy expectantly, and she nodded easily.
"You don't need my permission, you know," she murmured, her voice tinted with humour. "Unless you think it's dangerous magic, or there's a sacrifice involved otherwise, go for it." Her words were sincere, and it showed just how much faith she had in him.
Selina pursed her lips in annoyance. It didn't seem like Harry had a 'Knocking Before Entering' policy, as she was told just the previous day. Hell, it almost seemed like it was his house as well! (An 'Entering before Thrusting' policy, she amended with a silent grimace.)
"I've really got to work on breaking these stereotypes you folks have on magic," Harry muttered, waving his wand about the room. "Sure, there's blood magic. But there is a such thing as too much blood. Trust me on that. Capacious Extremis!"
For the umpteenth time that day, Harley felt like her head was spinning. In an instant, she felt like she was shrinking, as the walls rolled backwards, and the ceiling she was staring at suddenly rose and expanded.
Everyone else felt the effects, absently holding onto the nearest furniture and doorframe as the room morphed and grew. Physically, they weren't moving at all, the furniture staying the same size, but it was quite disorienting.
Harry lowered his wand, pointedly ignoring Harley's glare. "Perhaps a heads up, huh?"
She huffed. "Perhaps."
Jonathan, his blue eyes shifting about, sat stoically in the lone armchair off to the side. "Might have been able to shackle him to the wall before using such a technique." He grunted under the eyes that fell on him. "Just a thought."
"As much as I enjoy the idea of seeing if our local vigilante has the same power as Plastic Man, I think we may need him alive. He had a wealth of knowledge that even I have not uncovered – yet." Edward sauntered around the couch and looked down at the knocked-out hero, scowling. "We've not had many run-ins, but he's always cheated at every altercation. I need to know how."
"Cheated," Harley deadpanned. "Sure. That's how he beats you." Running her fingers through Pam's bright red locks, her head fell back again. Her tiredness quickly got her used to the new height of the ceiling fan. "I've never looked forward to Summer break ending so much in my life."
That got a chuckle out of Ivy. "Tired of the rebel game, dear?"
"No... not really. It's been a lot of fun. But not very mentally stimulating, you know? It's been a hell of a workout these past few days. More used to a balance. It's been a little hectic." She gave a little smile, not that anyone could see it. "And I kinda miss dance class."
The green-skinned vixen nuzzled her head against Harley's stomach, tickling her chin. "Hey," she whispered, getting her attention. "Any time you want to take a break, you can. We're all taking a break right now, but you can take as long as you want."
"Relax, Pammy." She yawned again, "Just want a little nap, and I'll be good." With a peaceful smile, she closed her eyes and drifted off.
A silence settled upon the group of villains. Only the soft slumbering of Harleen Quinzel and Bruce Wayne overtook the sound, both exhausted, both feeling the effects of a war on opposite sides; one in defeat, one in victory.
Both - when fully restored - ready to wake up and start anew, reinvigorated for their cause.
Ivy leaned up and stood from the couch. "Poor girl. The last few days have been adventurous for us." She looked back and winked at Harry, who let out a quiet chuckle. Turning to the rest of the room, she explained easily, "The Sun gives me the strength I need, and Harry has magic to fuel him. Harley is something special, but she's still human." Her smile radiated at Harley like she was the Sun herself. "She's so much more than that, though. Harry, Selina... you both heard what she said at the prison, when she was in disguise. She didn't tell me any of that. But I had a feeling."
~From Chapter 12: Blackgate~
Doctor Young was confident in her tone; unflinching in her candor. "You kept boasting your partners up, while putting yourself down, under the pretenses of sarcasm and the like," she explained clinically. "You have confidence issues. You feel like you contribute the least to the team, and you make up for it with being the class clown. You use jokes to throw people off, and your wits to turn the tables around. However, beyond that, you overcompensate your abilities to impress others. You believe your rite of passage is to serve as the distraction."
'He' bit 'his' lip in thought, before nodding. "You're absolutely right. I'm not the most gifted member on my team. I mean, I've got my own skill set – perks that'll make an international spy bow his head in shame – but I'm no superhuman. Just yesterday, I was trying to do magic, of course to no avail. I even had a little bit of a crisis this morning. Until yesterday, I liked to think I was the smartest in the room, or at least a chance at the title. Before that, I was trying to work on my stealth. Sneaking missions go a long way. And then the freakin' mistress of sneaking joined our little team. So, all in all, I've got problems. For a long time, I've been searching to find something all my own. It's just not enough. I'm... just not... enough." He sniffed, his hand lifting away from the invisible watch on his wrist.
She didn't know at the time, but Harry, Ivy, and Selina had caught every word, no matter how hard she tried to block her communication.
Harry blamed himself. It wasn't in her surface thoughts for him to pick up; it came out subconsciously, and she must've been aware of it to the point where it fit in her plan perfectly. "I've been meaning to bring that up. I just... didn't know how. I felt like that, once, but I didn't have an answer for it, then."
"We've all felt helpless," Selina shrugged, "It's only human. Meta or not, we all have vulnerabilities. I think. That girl you met – Raven, was it? – She seemed pretty helpless for a second. We had Zatanna, and of course, Exhibit C." Her eyes darted to the Batman, his unmoving form rising and falling with every breath. "We've all got our vices." She looked up to Ivy, smiling tightly. "But out of all of us, she's got the most strength."
Pamela reached down, stroking her girlfriend's cheek. "Yes, she does. And she thinks she's proven that today." She giggled, filling the room with her melodious tone even as she tried not to be too loud. "She proved it to me the day we met. She may have forgotten how wonderful she is; I didn't."
Riddler shook his head at the uncomfortable amount of comfort in the room, removing his bowler hat and resting it in his lap. Being new to the group, even he could tell who kept the team together. It might have been ambiguous on who might be the leader, but the glue was quite clear to him.
Wordlessly, Harley was lifted from the couch, and Harry steadily floated her towards her – their bedroom, following behind her. She curled into a ball in mid-air, her smile a bit wider, her slumber more restful.
Ivy looked down, with crossed arms, poking her bare toe at the unconscious body of the Batman. "She's certainly stronger than this asshole."
"So, what do we do?" Vicki questioned to the room, tentatively stepping closer. "You said you weren't torturing him, and you weren't killing him. What purpose does he serve after interrogation? What should I report?"
With a lazy snap of her fingers, Pamela stood back from the body, motioning Vicki to do the same.
In seconds, a long green tendril slithered in from the hallway, creeping towards the prone form, while several others followed. They watched with rapt attention, save for Ivy, while the tendrils began to feel out the man in the uniform – slowly digesting him, item by item, sensing and detecting the imminent danger that was an unconscious Batman.
"There is no danger," Pamela told the room, shivering lightly, "So for the moment, there is no need for him. His associates will no doubt look for him, and... we might make some enemies that none of us have ever faced. As loathe as I am to say it, we can't kill him. That would be going too far, too fast. But we also need him silenced." Making a motion, the vines began to wrap around him more quickly. "I recommend a cocoon."
Edward grunted. "I almost expected an overly sized Venus Flytrap."
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that she had considered it. "I'm not putting him in my Garden, and we need to keep an eye on him. For the record, you'll get a non-lethal shock if you try to remove the mask, so... don't." Kicking the belt - yes, the one and only belt - to the side, she left for the doorway as he rose to hang from the ceiling. "Discuss amongst yourselves. Best game plan gets a prize. Don't stay up too late."
So in one single room, a thief, a puzzler, a scientist, a reporter, and a cat, laying across the back of a snow leopard, stared at the man dressed as a bat, wrapped in a cocoon.
Finally, Scarecrow laughed, and all nearby cringed at the unusual sound. "I think I just thought of the perfect joke."
Author's Note: I mean, it's no Choices, Choices (And really, what is?), but I like this chapter. It's more of a setup than anything else, but there's a lot of setup in this.
Extended Author's Notes (Over at the blog dot rihaansfics dotcom) has been updated. A nice quiknotes guide to the story so far.
Please Comment and/or Review. Please. Feedback is my lifeblood.
And, if you don't mind, check out the major renovations at the website. I've been real busy, and I hope you all like the new look.
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Harry and Harley