DC One Shot And Imagines I

Harley Quinn- Alley (a)

Another day working the counter, handing out bacteria infested hotdogs to tourists and commuters alike just waiting for the sun to fall and for another day to be over. You had reached the part of the day where you could scream and shout all you'd life but nobody would be desperate enough to buy your wares, so you'd normally take what rubbish you had for the day through the alley.

"What did I do to you?... Huh!?" Harley rammed the palm of her hands into your breastbone as she ran into you, leaving a smear of homogenous egg yolk over your jacket. "I've had enough shit to deal with this morning, can we just raincheck so I can get some breakfast? I'll meet you back here straight after. Scouts promise." She raised three white fingers, the middle, however, had a slight yellow smear which Harley gazed lovingly upon.

"If it wasn't for that clown prince of yours, I'd have no idea who you are. You're running from that cop, right?" She nodded and slowly raised the yolk stained finger to her lips. "And the biker?" She wiped the last of the grease from her fingers and reminisced solemnly about what was her sad breakfast.

"You must have been living under some rock of something. Long story short, you're either going to shoot me in the face or help me hide... from the people who are trying to shoot me in the face. Can you hurry up and tell me which one." You heard the smacking of rubber against concrete quickly approaching from where Harley had first appeared. "Like I said, if you could hurry up that'd be great." There wasn't much time to deviate a cunning plan as the footsteps became louder and faster.

"Sorry." You whispered as you pushed Harley into a pile of sticky, torn open bags of trash and tipped your parcel of hotdog water soaked napkins, expired dogs and empty condiment bottles.

"What the fuck are you-" She tucked her head under the trash as a convergence of Harley haters turned the corner with weapons drawn.

"Where did she go?" The detective asked with a raised pistol. "She ran down here and unless she can spring herself over a fifteen-foot wall, she's still here.

"I've just been down here having a smoke, I didn't see anything. Isn't she kind of known for pulling tricks, messing with you and that kind of stuff?" The detective retired with no more than a sigh, after a grunt and a cocked eye so did the rest of her unsuspecting posse.

"They're gone." You pulled her from the pile of filth and watched as she plucked dried noodles from her clothes. "I know somewhere we can get you some breakfast, as long as you sit a few seats away from me."

~*~

Written by Aaron.