Ember ; Harley Quinn

• five •

Y/n's POV:

"You have no idea what you're doing, y/n!" My father snapped, throwing a punch. I blocked it, holding my gloves up while bounced on my feet, ready to step in the other direction.

I jumped to the side, hitting my father square in his ribs.

"Dad, I think I'm more than capable to defend myself." I scoffed, jumping to the left and tripping him up while I grabbed his arm. My father used the momentum and slammed my back against the foam mat.

"It's not just about the physicality, more so the strong mentality. Harley dated Joker, the deranged lunatic, who used fear to control people." He held his hand out for me and I took it, both of us touching gloves once more before throwing hits.

"Harley is, well, becoming her own person outside of him. Maybe she's different." I threw a punch but he caught my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back.

I hissed, kicking his leg out from under him so it would throw him off balance. I slammed us back into the mat, acting quick and putting my legs around his head and twisting.

My father wheezed and tapped my leg. I let him go and he laughed lightly at me, touching gloves with me.

"Don't be so naive, y/n." He hit me in the ribs and I sputtered and coughed, "How many times have you seen her?"

"Can't you pretend to trust me." I rolled my eyes, walking over towards my half full water bottle, disregarding the training session.

"Just answer these question." Bruce sighed, stripping off his faded red boxing gloves.

I huffed, swallowing down the large gulp of water, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, "She comes to my club every night. It's not like I'm alone with her."

"You don't have to be. Do you honestly think Harley Quinn cares about anyone other than herself? Every minutes she spends with you, she's using you. It's probably a money issue. Y/n, let me handle this. I'm not allowing you to risk your life just so I don't have to fight a villain."

"Dad-"

"That's all I wish to say about it." He cut me off.

"Fa-"

"That's all I wish to say about it!" He snapped a little more sternly and I shut my mouth, narrowing my eyes at him.

The billionaire shook his head, grabbing his water bottle and quickly exiting the home gym. I blew out a breath, rubbing my forehead while my shoulders sagged. If Alfred were here he'd probably say something to lighten the mood, then give us both a talk. He'd probably tell me to sit up straight too.

But he's playing golf with some other friends, only after my father and I repeatedly told him that it was okay he have fun. Lord knows he needed it.

After a few moments I put away the gloves and turned the lights off. I made it to my room and instantly headed for the shower.

My phone pinged on the bathroom counter, interrupting the music I had just started. I groaned, pressing the screen to see a message from Harley.

Quinzel: hey! Wanna come over and hang out? Maybe we can have a sleep over!

Quinzel: I think Bruce misses you

My fingers quickly tapped across the keyboard, sending the short response of 'Can't '. I bit my lip when I saw the three little bubbles pop up, letting me know Harley was going to reply. Quickly I exited my messages and resumed playing my shower playlist.

I sighed in content when the hot shower water made quick work of soothing my aching body. Was I being naive, really? I didn't really have another reason to distrust the woman other than she was one of Gothams most wanted. Well, and she dated the Joker but I'm sure she didn't plan that one so I'm not going to count that.

I mean, was this woman really worth fighting with my father over? My father and I got along relatively fine, other than the few occasional petty fights. He didn't even know I was Ember, let alone knew that I had fire powers. He would flip a gasket, probably dragging my to every Private scientist/doctors to cure me.

I knew my dad could handle himself in a fight, but somehow I knew that Harley was unpredictable. I'm sure she was always going to surprise you in one way or another. My father has come home in shit shape, on the brink of death. I don't want to lose him, and what if Harley was goin to finally be the one to kill him?

Shit.

But I could prevent this maybe death if I befriend her and take her in myself. No fight (maybe) and my dad lives. 

Ugh, this thing was so stressful to think about. I was arguing with myself over one woman. Part of me felt like I was in too deep already, that my very first word uttered towards Quinn set off a chain of events. Hell, I already got kidnapped by her ex! What was next for me.

I needed a few days to think about my options, maybe talk to Sasha and see what she thought about it. I'll invest myself in my work to try and take my mind off some of it, I just hope I can figure it out soon.

[...]

The next night I was sitting at a table, my eyes lingering on Harley every so often. She was here when I arrived and she hasn't noticed me yet. I'd catch her eyes scan the crowd and I'd duck my head so she wouldn't see me.

Maybe it was childish, but I didn't think I could face her right now. I hadn't done much thinking about my choices and I really didn't want too. Why did she pick me to hang out with? I'm sure if she wanted my money, that conversation would have happened long before this new friendship...? Were we friends? I'm sure Harley would say yes, but what did I feel?

Great, more things to think about. I tossed back the rest of my bourbon when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I must have been too lost in my thoughts to see her approach.

"Was wondering when you'd show up!" Harley nudged me, "Want some shots? I'll buy!"

As if to prove her point, the crazily dressed woman pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill and waved it around.

Abruptly I stood from my chair, shaking my head, "Can't. I actually have to go."

Harley grabbed my wrist when I brushed past her and I turned around to look into her soft eyes, "But you just got here.."

I shrugged stiffly, setting my empty glass on the bar counter. I practically burst through the front doors, slumping inside the drivers seat in the Benz.

I ran my hands down my face, wanting to bang my head against the steering wheel. If avoiding her was what I was doing, then I had to really try at it. I could do it. But then I was only protecting myself, the image of my father dying at her hands weighing on my mind.

I needed to talk to Sasha, maybe even Alfred about this. A second opinion seemed like a good idea.

Harley's POV:

I'm not going to lie and say that didn't hurt my feelings a little, but I didn't understand why. I'm planning on killing her father for Jesus Christmas sake!

Why did I care that she brushed me off to get drunk and talk? This was her club, I'm sure I'd be seeing her again tomorrow. She was probably stressed out and I caught her at a bad time.

"Yeah, that's it." I mumbled to myself, grabbing a drink out of some woman's hands and downing it in seconds. I flipped her off when she gave me a nasty look.

I stole another drink off another table and made my way onto the dance floor. I was going to have a good time whether Y/n was here or not.