Harley Quinn Romance

Chapter 07: The One

Harley and Bruce chatted over their dinners. Previously prepared and kept under silver domes to retain heat and moisture, the food was delightful. The kitchen staff had been dismissed for the night to allow Harley and Bruce to speak openly about their lives and relationship status without word leaking and becoming front page news.

"Do you mind telling me how long it took to do that?" Bruce asked, reaching across the table and taking Harley's hand. He held it up to look closer at the pattern. Each nail alternated between either red with a black diamond painted in the center or black with a red diamond. "You do seem to have a fixation on a particular color scheme and pattern."

Harley had trouble answering right away as she could only think about Bruce holding her hand. His touch sent electric thrills across her skin, and she fought against the quiver trying to work its way up her spine.

"It's uh," she stammered, trying to speak the words with a suddenly dry mouth. "It's not a chore if you like the work."

"Fair enough," Bruce acknowledged. He let go of her hand, placing it gently back on the table.

She'd held his arm and even kissed Bruce before, but it was different when he was the one instigating the contact. Harley was torn. On the one hand, she was exhilarated by Bruce's touch, but on the other, she also enjoyed being able to breathe.

"Do you mind my asking why you're so attached to the Harley Quinn persona?" he inquired, his tone indicating curiosity but also an unwillingness to push if she'd rather not talk about it.

"It's always been my thing," Harley admitted. She casually spun a fork in her spaghetti, twirling the pasta around and around with no real intent on eating it at the moment. "I think my folks had the idea in mind when they gave me the name Harleen."

"What makes you say that?" Bruce asked.

"Most kids get a stuffed animal or teddy bear from their folks," Harley went on, staring at her plate. "My folks got me a jester doll, and you should've seen the way they decorated my room."

"I take it this is similar," Bruce suggested with a wave toward their current surroundings.

"Yep," Harley confirmed. "Kids started calling me Harley Quinn in school. My parents suggested I play along to take the sting out of the insult; laugh with them because it's not an insult if it's a joke, or so they said. After years, the Harley name and persona stuck. In a twisted way, I was put on the path to be the Joker's stooge from the moment I was born."

She sighed softly.

"I'm sorry if this brought up bad memories," Bruce said, placing a comforting hand on hers.

Harley barely restrained her squeal of delight. She'd thought if she seemed depressed by her past, Bruce might try to console her, and it had worked perfectly.

"It's alright," Harley assured him, a flicker of her smile returning. "I live in a world of fun and laughter now. I've grown used to being Harley. It's who I am and has nothing to do with the Joker anymore. There may have been a few bumps, bruises, and broken bones along the way, but I'm here now...with you."

Bruce squeezed her hand in a reassuring manner.

"We all went through difficult things responsible for making us who we are," he told her. "Hardships haven't broken us, but made us resilient. We've become more than who we were in the beginning."

"I'm certainly having a lot more fun lately," Harley stated happily.

"Being as secretive and reserved as I am, I'm hesitant to admit this," Bruce confided in her. "But, I've been having more fun too as of late."