Girls Night In

"This is nice," said Harley Quinn, smiling as she sat sipping her glass of wine. "The three of us, y'know, the Gotham City Girls, having a quiet night in with drinks and trashy magazines and gossip. Just the three of us…"

The Joker's theme tune suddenly started playing, and Harley reached into her pocket and flipped open her cell phone. "Hi puddin'!" she exclaimed, beaming. "It's over by the TV, sweetie. In the credenza. Third door from the left. Uh huh. Love y…"

The phone clicked off and Harley shrugged, replacing it in her pocket. "What was I saying?"

"Just the three of us," growled Poison Ivy.

"Oh yeah. Just the three of us, enjoying a quiet night in," continued Harley, smiling. "The Gotham City Girls…"

Her phone rang again, the same tune. She immediately picked it up. "Yeah, puddin'? It's in our bedroom. The dresser on my side of the bed. Second drawer down. Found it? Good. Love…"

The phone clicked off again.

"Gee, Harley, are you sure J can spare you for one night?" asked Selina Kyle, rolling her eyes. "He sounds pretty helpless on his own."

"Well, I do lots of little things for him, Selina," replied Harley. "Just goes to show you how much he needs me, really."

"He could always hire a butler," retorted Ivy.

"He doesn't need one when he's got me," retorted Harley. "I take good care of my puddin', Red. And my puddin' takes good care of me," she murmured, dreamily.

Ivy and Selina shared a look. It was a look of disgust mixed with incredulity and annoyance. The two of them had frequently got together for drinks and a chat, mostly complaining about the men in their lives, or lack of men in their lives, as the case may have been. Another prevalent topic of conversation was Harley and her toxic relationship with the Joker. Much as they didn't like to bitch about their friend behind her back, sometimes the insanity of the whole thing was too much for them both to bear quietly. But Harley had somehow found out about their drinking and chatting sessions, and had invited herself to the next one, in that open, honest way she did everything. It was a strange paradox with Harley that she could get up to some unbelievably dark and depraved stuff being involved with the Joker, and still retain a simple, child-like innocence about the world and people in it.

"So, what do you two usually talk about?" asked Harley, smiling at them. "Guys? Clothes? Celebrities? The rapidly worsening crisis of climate change and its effect on third-world countries?"

"Yeah, stuff like that," replied Selina. "Not the climate change thing, though – you don't want to get Ivy ranting about the environment when she's been drinking."

"Well, I don't usually want to get her ranting about that other stuff when she's been drinking," replied Harley. "Especially guys. She'll just start lecturing me about Mr. J. Talking about how my relationship is unhealthy, abusive, obsessive, dependent…"

Her phone rang again. "Hi, pud…what's that noise? Well, turn it off. It's a red switch. Red switch, next to the fridge. No, lower. It's there, puddin', I promise. Where are you? Yeah, now look down. Look, right above the…hang on." She stood up. "Sorry, I just need to take this. Be right back! Red switch, puddin'…"

She rushed into the kitchen and Selina sighed. "Jesus Christ, why didn't we just invite him too? It would save Harley from getting head cancer being on the phone to him that much, and it would probably save us the annoyance of hearing that damn tune every five seconds."

"Tell me about it," retorted Ivy. "I can't even believe he has his own theme tune. Conceited bastard."

"Pathetic is the word I would use," replied Selina. "Honestly, how can Harley be attracted to man who needs to call her every second to find his own stuff for him? He's just useless."

"We've speculated a million times about what she sees in him," sighed Ivy. "I don't think we've ever come to any conclusions."

Selina was silent. "He can't really be that good, can he?" she asked quietly. "In bed, I mean."

"Well, I don't know why else Harley would put up with him," retorted Ivy. "But I don't really like to think about it, if I'm honest."

"No, it's a pretty sick thought," agreed Selina. Silence again. "You think, maybe…we should ask her?"

"What, if J's good in bed?"

"No! What she sees in him."

"Do we really want to know the answer?" replied Ivy.

Selina shrugged. "I'm curious."

"And you know what they say about curiosity and the cat," retorted Ivy. "I can't imagine Harley will have anything illuminating to say on the subject, other than 'he's just the greatest, my gorgeous, handsome, puddin'!' so I don't really see the point in bringing him up. He's already intruded on our night enough."

"Sorry about that! Mr. J set off an alarm and couldn't figure out how to turn it off – he's not used to doing things on his own," said Harley, re-entering the room.

"And does it make you happy to be his drudge?" asked Ivy.

"It makes me happy to make his life easier for him, yeah," retorted Harley. "He's a genius, Red. Has a lot on his mind. If I can help him in any way so he can concentrate on what's important and don't have to be bothered by the little things, then I'm happy."

"And does he consider you important, Harley?" demanded Ivy.

"Sure he does," she replied. "He just has to be in the right mood. He has a lot of mood swings. Sometimes it's difficult to keep track of, and you catch him at a bad time, and then…" She punched her fist into her hand.

"See, I can't believe that anyone would treat a person they love as a human punching bag," growled Ivy. "It just shows absolutely no consideration for their feelings. It's just selfish."

"Well, he's more of a self-centered kinda guy, and I'm more of a selfless, giving girl, at least where he's concerned, so we balance out, really," replied Harley. "Look, can we not talk about this again? We're only going to go around in circles, as usual. Can't we just talk about whatever it is you and Selina usually talk about?"

Ivy and Selina shared a look again. Harley noticed, and a realization suddenly struck her. "Oh," she said, quietly. "Me and Mr. J is what you and Selina usually talk about, isn't it?"

"Not always," retorted Selina. "I like to complain to Ivy about the Bat sometimes, and how he won't let kitty get his cream."

Harley sat down, folding her arms across her chest. "All right, I've had enough of this," she muttered. "Go ahead, both of you. Get it all out now. Say what you have to say to my face, so we can all move on and enjoy the rest of our evening talking about something else besides my relationship, which seems to be so incredibly fascinating to both of you."

"Baffling is what it is," retorted Ivy. "Unsolved mysteries are always interesting."

"What's mysterious about it?" demanded Harley.

"C'mon, Harley, there's literally nothing attractive about him," said Selina, gently. "He's a slimy, manipulative, abusive, psychotic creep who's twice your age and looks permanently like a clown. Clowns aren't sexy."

"Don't get me wrong, Selina, I ain't a fan of clowns in general," she replied. "In fact, they creep me out. It's the red noses and the giant shoes, mostly. Can't stand that crap," she muttered, shuddering. "But Mr. J don't do that. He's a special clown. He's different, unique. Dresses nicely, not like a stupid, brightly-colored pansy. And he's so handsome and chisled, face like a statue, cheekbones you could cut glass on! Nose that you just wanna nibble on all night long. The prettiest eyes in the world, and his laugh, oh baby!" She shivered. "His laugh just gets me going. Just a crescendo of pleasure building up until the final orgasmic moment…"

"Look, I'm sorry I asked," interrupted Selina.

"No, no, you wanted to know what's attractive about him," she retorted. "And it ain't just looks. I ain't a superficial girl like that, though he does just have the most perfectly toned muscles…"

"Yeah, from slapping you around, isn't that right?" asked Ivy.

"But he's more than just stunningly gorgeous," she continued, ignoring her. "He's sweet and sensitive and strong and smart…"

The phone rang again. "Hi, puddin'," she murmured, dreamily, answering it. "I was just thinking about...what do you mean on fire? The whole room? Did you use the fire extinguisher? By the door, puddin'. Yeah, it is, Mr. J, I promise. Left hand side…the front door, puddin'! Yeah…no…I…"

But the shouting from the other end of the phone was so loud that both Ivy and Selina could hear it quite clearly. "WHY DON'T YOU SAY FRONT DOOR IF YOU MEAN FRONT DOOR, YOU STUPID GIRL?! DO YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST AUTOMATICALLY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE BABBLING ABOUT, YOU DUMB BLONDE?! I START FIRES, I DON'T PUT THEM OUT! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, HARLEY! THIS WOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU'D STAYED HOME WHERE YOU BELONG, YOU USELESS, LAZY, SELFISH WASTE OF SPACE! WHEN YOU FINALLY GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS BACK HERE, I'M GOING TO BEAT YOUR FACE IN FOR THIS!"

"Ok, Mr. J. I love y…"

The phone clicked off.

"He's fine," said Harley, replacing the phone in her pocket. "Little kitchen fire, nothing to worry about. It's under control now."

"We're both relieved to hear that," retorted Ivy.

"So what were you saying, Harley?" asked Selina, sarcastically. "Sweet and sensitive and strong and smart…"

"Look, I know it don't seem that way a lot of times," she retorted. "Mr. J's got an image to preserve in public, y'know? But he does a lot of nice, sweet things when it's just the two of us. In private."

"I really, really don't want to hear about this," said Ivy, standing up and heading for the kitchen. "I'm getting another drink."

"I didn't mean in that way – get your mind out of the gutter!" called Harley after her.

But Selina was still curious, and was willing to risk ignoring the old adage to satisfy it. "Seriously, Harley, is it just all about the sex? I mean, he can't really be that good in bed, can he?"

Harley glared at her. "Ok. You wanna know the real reason I love Mr. J? It's 'cause he don't keep poking his nose into my business! It's because he just listens to me when I wanna talk, and accepts me for who I am, and doesn't judge me, no matter how unusual my tastes or opinions are! He respects my decisions and makes everything fun. He makes me laugh. Don't ever underestimate the importance of laughter, or a good sense of humor in a man. It really helps you cope with the insanity of life. And Mr. J has just got the best sense of humor. I feel happy and alive and free when I'm with him, free to be me, Harley Quinn. Free to be fun and spontaneous without the risk of offending people or making a fool of myself. He don't make me feel like a fool. He makes me feel like I'm valued, like I'm loved, even though he don't always show that publicly. But he needs me. And a girl likes to be needed. He makes me feel like my life has meaning. And that's what a great relationship does. And yeah, there are bad times. There are tough times. There are tears and fights and all that kinda crap that everyone else goes through. But you name me a relationship that don't have that. What I get out of it is worth all that. I'm happy. I wake up every day thinking about him, and go to bed every night thinking about him. So I'd really be crazy to ever give him up."

Ivy re-entered the room just as Harley finished with, "And yeah, if you must know, he's also fantastic in bed! Like legs shaking, can't stand up for the rest of the day, back sore from being pounded against the headboard for two hours kinda fantastic! You ever get that kinda action with the Bat?! No, didn't think so! And I get that maybe jealousy might be the cause of your obsession with me and Mr. J, but unless you wanna hear all about the kinda kinky stuff we get up to in glorious detail, you just shut your mouth and mind your own business! We're happy, jerks! Both of you just get over it and accept it!"

And Harley downed her glass of wine and picked up a magazine, studying it intently. Ivy looked at Selina. "You could have told me to stay in the kitchen until it was over. And I can't believe you asked her," she snapped.

Selina shrugged. "I was curious. And now I know."

Harley's phone rang again. The deep glare on her face instantly brightened as she picked it up. "Hi, puddin'! Got the fire under control? Aw, good job, baby! You're such a strong, handsome, smart guy, Mr. J. They're by the door. Yes, the front door, right hand side. They're not? You sure? Aw, geez, I must not have hung them back up. Try the coffee table. Then the sofa. They might have fallen into the sofa. Well, you'll have to check behind the cushions. Behind the…"

The phone clicked off. "Missing car keys," she explained.

"Next time he calls, Harley, I'm throwing the phone out the window," snapped Ivy. "So turn it off. This is meant to be a girl's night in, not three girls plus her needy boyfriend on the other end of the phone."

"But what if Mr. J can't find the car keys, Red?" asked Harley. "He might need me to give him a lift. He might have a fight with the Bat scheduled."

"Tough," retorted Ivy. "It's girl's night. The boys can just wait and play tomorrow night. I don't think it's too much to ask."

"But Red…"

The phone rang. Harley picked it up. "Hi, puddin', find them? Oh. Yeah, I'd sure like to puddin', but…yeah…well, see…the thing about that is…Red doesn't really think I should leave. But I guess if you just need me to run you over…"

Ivy seized the phone from her. "Listen to me, you self-centered creep! Harley is taking one night off from you to hang around with her friends, so why don't you just stay at home and try not to touch anything before you hurt yourself? But if you do end up hurting yourself anyway because you're so monumentally useless and dependent, I couldn't be happier. In fact, if you ever need a hand with hurting yourself, be sure to give me a call. But don't call Harley anymore. See ya."

And she tossed the phone out of the window. Harley gaped at her. "Red, I need that!" she exclaimed.

"No, you don't need that, and you don't need him," growled Ivy. "I'm trying to help you, Harley. Believe me, this is for your own good."

"Don't talk to me like I'm some sorta kid!" shouted Harley. "What would you possibly know about my own good?! You're not me, and you don't know what's best for me, and I just wish you could respect me enough to respect my decisions!"

"He doesn't respect you, Harley!" shouted Ivy. "Why should I treat you any differently than he does?"

"Because you're my best female friend," she retorted. "And he's my boyfriend. You fulfill different roles and mean different things to me. I expect you both to care about me, of course. And I know he does, but I sometimes doubt if you do. I sometimes think you really only care about me as a project, as something you can try to fix and feel superior to!"

Ivy stared at her. "You doubt my feelings for you, but you believe implicitly in his? Are you crazy, Harley?"

"Yeah!" she retorted. "And you should accept me the way I am, Red! Mr. J does! You should stop trying to change me into someone who's not crazy. It's not who I wanna be. I wanna be madly in love with Mr. J, and if you've got a problem with that, I want you to look at yourself and think about why that is. Is it because you're jealous of the happiness I have? Is it because you're incredibly lonely, or irrationally suspicious of men? Or do you hate the idea of completely devoted love so much because you're actually incapable of it, and it bothers you that I am? Or are you just too scared to admit that you might be wrong?"

"Don't give me the shrink psycho-babble, Harley," retorted Ivy. "You fell in love with the Joker, so you can't really be that astute a psychiatrist, can you?"

"Look, why don't you both calm down before you say something you'll regret?" said Selina, trying to relieve the tension. "There's no need to get worked up over this. It's not going to change anything. You're both too stubborn to compromise, or try to understand each other, so let's just drop it and talk about something else. Maybe they'll be an interesting topic in one of these magazines. Ah, here, y'see? 'Fake tan vs. the real deal – which one actually looks more authentic?' What do you think, Ivy?"

They never learned Ivy's opinion on tanning, for Selina's house phone suddenly rang. Puzzled, Selina went over to pick it up. "Selina Kyle's residence," she purred. Her face fell, and she held the phone out to Harley. "It's for you," she muttered.

Harley took the receiver. "Hello? Hi, puddin'! Yeah, she threw it out the window, Mr. J. I dunno, she's been acting funny all night. She's had a few, though. Me? No, just the one…"

Ivy seized the receiver from her again. "She's in no condition to drive," she snapped.

"I wasn't going to ask her to, Pammie," replied the mocking voice of the Joker. "I found the car keys, which is why I called, to tell Harley not to worry. I was just concerned that my little girl wasn't drinking too much, because I care about her and don't want her to have a sore head in the morning. I look after my Harley baby, y'know."

Ivy growled in response and handed the phone back to Harley. "See what I'm talking about?" asked Harley. "She's all cranky. Puddin', don't be mean!" she giggled. "I'm sure that's not the reason! You're such a bad man, and I love you very much. So where are you going, baby? Oh, sounds like fun. Watch out for Batsy, won't you, puddin'? Ok, I'll see you when I get home. Ok, love you! Buh bye!"

She hung up the phone. "See, Red? You just shouldn't get worked up over these things," she retorted. "Mr. J might be right about the reason you're so cranky, though."

"What did he say?" growled Ivy.

"That plants need three things to make them happy: water, sunlight, and dirt. And he said maybe you just weren't being dirty enough lately," she laughed.

"Oh, he's a funny guy," muttered Ivy.

"Yeah, just like I told you. See? Good sense of humor," replied Harley. "Anyway, Mr. J's gone to pull a job, so we shouldn't be hearing from him for the rest of the night. I'm sure you two are relieved. Now let's watch a movie or something and stop fighting."

Tempers eased during the viewing of the vapid Rom Com, so they were all friends once more by the end of the movie. A few more hours of chatting and laughter and gossip brought everything back to normal, and Ivy had almost forgotten why they didn't invite Harley to these things more often. She was a lot of fun to have around – full of giggles and smiles, and with her own wicked sense of humor which was cute in its way. In future, Ivy resolved, all three of them would get together like this more often. Just the three of them, the Gotham City Girls…

And then a knock came on Selina's door. She went to open it. "Hello Kitty!" laughed the Joker. "Have I ever told you I love your merchandise?"

"Puddin'!" shrieked Harley, stopping her conversation with Ivy mid-sentence and rushing over to leap into the Joker's arms.

"How ya doing, kiddo?" he asked, kissing her. "Bored with talking to cats and plants yet? Wanna come home with Daddy and have some real fun?"

"Oooh, yeah, Mr. J!" giggled Harley, grinning. "What kinda fun?"

"I'll explain on the way, pumpkin," he said, preparing to leave with Harley in his arms.

"What are you doing here, J?" demanded Ivy, coming over to the door, furious. "You can't just show up and steal Harley away like this! We're having a girls night in!"

"Oh, are you?" he asked, in mock surprise. "Gee, I'm really sorry, Pammie! I didn't mean to interrupt – how terribly rude of me! Harley, you'd better stay here. I'll have fun on my own."

"Aw, but I wanna come with you, Mr. J!" whined Harley. "C'mon, Red, we're done here, right? And we can do this again, next week maybe, at your place. But why don't we just call it a night?"

"I'm not calling it a night just because he decides to show up!" growled Ivy.

"She's right, Harley," said Joker, putting her down onto her feet. "You stay here with the strangling weed. Your ability to bring sunshine into their otherwise empty and pathetic lives is a lot more valuable than you having fun with me. Oh, but while you're here, do you know where I put the jumper cables?"

"I think they're in the trunk of the car," replied Harley.

"Really? Didn't see them earlier. But that's great, thanks, baby. You have fun with your girly night and I'll see you later," he said, kissing her cheek and turning to go.

"What do you need the jumper cables for, baby?" asked Harley. "Car break down?"

"No, no," he said, walking away. "Just need them for the thing I put in the trunk. Don't worry about it, Harley. We'll have fun without you."

"Yeah? Whatcha got in the trunk, Mr. J?" she called after him.

"Batman," he replied casually, turning around and grinning. "Enjoy your night, ladies. I know I'll enjoy mine."

"Hold it right there, clown!" shouted Selina, seizing her whip and dragging him back to them.

"You got Batman in your car?" murmured Ivy, staring at him in disbelief.

"Tied up?" asked Selina, hopefully.

"Well, yeah, otherwise he'd have escaped," replied Joker, grinning. "He's unconscious at the moment – I hit him really hard with a crowbar. Could be out a couple hours, but when he wakes up, we'll have a really great night, just the two of us, with some shocking surprises and some cutting remarks. And maybe a couple cheap shots, just for laughs. I would invite you ladies, but, y'know, it's kinda a boys night in thing. I don't crash yours, and you don't crash mine. Deal?"

Ivy seized her crossbow and pointed it at his face. "All right, clown, hand over the Bat and nobody gets hurt."

"Don't you threaten Mr. J, Red," snapped Harley, her face darkening.

"Shut up, Harley," retorted Selina. "We'll threaten whoever we have to to get Batman tied up and completely helpless. Sounds like the perfect end to our girls night."

"Forget it, Kitty, Batsy's mine," retorted Joker. "It's been ages since we had an evening with just the two of us, and if you think for one moment I'm sacrificing some real quality time with my bestest buddy so you can sink your claws into him, you're crazier than he is."

"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear you say that, J," purred Selina. "Cause now I'm going to get really upset. And I'm such a bad kitty when I get upset. I scratch up a lot of things, y'know?" she whispered, sliding one of her nails down his cheek.

"This is going to be really fun too, J," murmured Ivy, grinning at him. "For me, anyway. I hope you find pain as hilarious as you find everything else."

"Yeah, I do, actually," he replied, grinning. "And I hope you do too, Pammie."

She was struck from behind suddenly by Harley's hammer, which also hit Selina, making them both drop their weapons. "Let's go, Mr. J!" Harley exclaimed, seizing his hand and running.

It didn't take Ivy or Selina long to recover themselves and chase after them. They raced into the parking garage, where Joker and Harley had already leapt into the car and started for the exit. They followed them in Selina's car, stepping on the gas so that both cars screeched out of the garage, one in hot pursuit of the other.

"We're not inviting her to the next one," growled Selina, her eyes fixed on the car just ahead of them.

"Yeah, yeah," agreed Ivy. "But it was fun up until the clown showed up. Trust him to ruin everything."

"It's probably what he does best," retorted Selina. "Well, unless you believe Harley, of course. Which I can't, really. I mean, c'mon, two hours…"

"What the hell is that?!" interrupted Ivy, pointing to the windshield, where an object was coming up fast. Selina swerved to avoid hitting it, and just in time. As they crashed into a nearby building, the object, which turned out to be a rocket, impacted on the building next to them, exploding it into a blaze of smoke and flame.

"Glad I could end the night with a bang, ladies!" laughed Joker, holding up the smoking rocket launcher from the backseat as their car drove up next to them. He laughed maniacally as Harley popped her head out of the window.

"Thanks for the fun evening, girls! Same time next week, ok, Red? See you then!"

And the car screeched off, with Joker's insane laughter mocking them until they were lost in the distance. Ivy and Selina sat watching them drive away, ignoring the smoking building next to them. Then Selina turned to Ivy.

"Seriously, two hours? Do you think she was telling the truth?"

"I don't care," growled Ivy, burying her face in her hands. "Let's just go back to yours and make some more margaritas. I need a drink."

The End