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joan_of_barkWaking up next to Harley again was a dream. Pam had no intention of taking it for granted; she wallowed in the quiet space between waking and the full rise of the sun, watched the glow spread back across Harley's skin.
Last nightstill being played out had been a miracle. She felt full-- love a warm, heavy presence in her chest, threatening to spill out at any moment.
They got up. They had breakfast. Pam listened to her talk for an hour about all her escapades back home and tried - mostly succesfully - not to sully it all by insulting the Bats too much. (It was hard. But she tried.) After everything that had happened with the Joker over the years, it was-- important, that Harley got to live the life that she wanted.
"You're lucky you got here when you did," she said eventually. "Next week everyone will come back from the trip and this island is going to get crowded again. You'll see."
"'s never going to be Gotham-crowded, though," Harley pointed out, munching on a mouthful of Froot Loops. Something apologetic showed up on her face, and suddenly, Pam's stomach dropped. "I gotta get home to the big city. All this small-town fresh air is killin' me."
Pam stared at her. "But you just got here," she said. "Is it the apartment? I know I've got a lot of equipment, I can clear--"
"It ain't the house. I was never gonna stay," Harley said, her mouth twitching a little. "But I was hoping I could convince you to come back with me."
A blink. "Now?" Pam asked. But-- Adrian, and the shop, and-- "I've been building a life here. The shop. My work, my research..."
In one fine, supple motion, Harley slid out of her chair and dropped into a squat. She reached for Pam; her forehead was warm against Pam's, and her eyes were full of promise. "You got a whole planet full of gas-guzzling evil-doers to terrorize," she said.
Pam sighed.
"Yeah, but this place... this town, it's like having a second chance," she murmured. "Finding people who think like me... who feel the Green like me, who aren't trying to kill or conquer me. Writing over some of the terrible things that happened to me."
Harley stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I got... I got a little place in Gotham," she said. "It ain't much, but I was hoping you could share it with me."
"Harley," Pam said, and she met Harley's eyes. Feeling the pain of impending separation, yet again. Because she had her life, and Harley had hers, and... never the twain shall meet for very long. "I think I belong here."
"It's a safe place after everything you've been through, I get that," Harley said quietly. "Doesn't mean it's where you're supposed to end up. I know you got stuff you gotta do. But once you're done doing that... just come back to me. Come home." She threw herself at Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's shoulders.
Holding on, for just one moment longer.
"A bird may love a fish," Pam laughed. "But where would they live?"
Harley pulled away, grinning big. "Silly. The answer to your question is penguins," she said, straightening herself up. "And penguins live in Gotham."
And just like that, she was gone. Blowing in and out of Pam's life like a little downpour.
But this time it felt different.
Because Pam did want to come home.
It was a feeling, yes. But it solidified as she watched Harley walk down the street, that unmistakable red-and-black silhouette growing smaller and smaller. Home.
[[ taken and adapted from Poison Ivy #9 by G. Willow Wilson. establishy. ]]
Last night
They got up. They had breakfast. Pam listened to her talk for an hour about all her escapades back home and tried - mostly succesfully - not to sully it all by insulting the Bats too much. (It was hard. But she tried.) After everything that had happened with the Joker over the years, it was-- important, that Harley got to live the life that she wanted.
"You're lucky you got here when you did," she said eventually. "Next week everyone will come back from the trip and this island is going to get crowded again. You'll see."
"'s never going to be Gotham-crowded, though," Harley pointed out, munching on a mouthful of Froot Loops. Something apologetic showed up on her face, and suddenly, Pam's stomach dropped. "I gotta get home to the big city. All this small-town fresh air is killin' me."
Pam stared at her. "But you just got here," she said. "Is it the apartment? I know I've got a lot of equipment, I can clear--"
"It ain't the house. I was never gonna stay," Harley said, her mouth twitching a little. "But I was hoping I could convince you to come back with me."
A blink. "Now?" Pam asked. But-- Adrian, and the shop, and-- "I've been building a life here. The shop. My work, my research..."
In one fine, supple motion, Harley slid out of her chair and dropped into a squat. She reached for Pam; her forehead was warm against Pam's, and her eyes were full of promise. "You got a whole planet full of gas-guzzling evil-doers to terrorize," she said.
Pam sighed.
"Yeah, but this place... this town, it's like having a second chance," she murmured. "Finding people who think like me... who feel the Green like me, who aren't trying to kill or conquer me. Writing over some of the terrible things that happened to me."
Harley stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I got... I got a little place in Gotham," she said. "It ain't much, but I was hoping you could share it with me."
"Harley," Pam said, and she met Harley's eyes. Feeling the pain of impending separation, yet again. Because she had her life, and Harley had hers, and... never the twain shall meet for very long. "I think I belong here."
"It's a safe place after everything you've been through, I get that," Harley said quietly. "Doesn't mean it's where you're supposed to end up. I know you got stuff you gotta do. But once you're done doing that... just come back to me. Come home." She threw herself at Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's shoulders.
Holding on, for just one moment longer.
"A bird may love a fish," Pam laughed. "But where would they live?"
Harley pulled away, grinning big. "Silly. The answer to your question is penguins," she said, straightening herself up. "And penguins live in Gotham."
And just like that, she was gone. Blowing in and out of Pam's life like a little downpour.
But this time it felt different.
Because Pam did want to come home.
It was a feeling, yes. But it solidified as she watched Harley walk down the street, that unmistakable red-and-black silhouette growing smaller and smaller. Home.
[[ taken and adapted from Poison Ivy #9 by G. Willow Wilson. establishy. ]]
