DC Comics: Dick Grayson/Harley Quinn
Title: Flipped-Off
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Dick/Harley
Theme: #08 Victory
Rating: G
Words: 496
“Looks like we’re evenly matched,” Harley announces dramatically. Which is total crap, because Harley may be good, but she’s fighting sloppy. Her heart isn’t in it, and now she’s looking for a way out. “The only way to resolve this is a flip-off!”
Dick raises an eyebrow behind his mask. “Okay,” he shrugs, trying not to smirk as he flips her off, just like she asked, middle finger raised.
“Don’t get cute with me, Nerdwing,” Harley snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him sternly. At least she’s not trying to kick Dick in the head anymore. “I meant a flip-off. Somersaults. I recognise a fellow gymnast when I fight one, so how about it?”
Hmm, interesting. “You want to have a somersaulting competition?” he asks slowly. Harley’s always chaotic and unpredictable, but this is definitely new.
“Yup!” she grins cheerfully. “Points for quality, quantity, height, speed, anything fancy. The only limit is the length of the floor.”
Okay, it looks like they’re actually doing this. Dick’s had weirder fights. “The stakes?”
“I win, you let me go,” Harley muses, finger pressed to her chin thoughtfully. “If you win, I’ll tell you where the hostages are, what traps you’ll be facing, blah blah blah.”
“And I take you in,” Dick adds.
“Nope, but I won’t complain if you sic one of the other Bat-brats on me while you go for the hostages.”
It’s good enough. Tim isn’t far away.
“Deal,” he nods. “But no tricks.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Harley promises, already lining herself up. It’s weird to see her so focused on something other than hurting people. And then she’s moving, cutting through the air, confident and skilled, clearly enjoying herself. Dick’s read up on her history, of course, and Harley was Olympic level at college, even before whatever Ivy fed her to push her further.
But she’s no Flying Grayson.
He applauds when she takes a bow, and she laughs and gestures that the floor is his.
Dick grins and starts running, and it always feels good, to just let loose, to twist and turn, building more height every time.
He sticks the landing, and Harley whistles, low and impressed.
“Nice moves,” she beams at him. “Hostages are at the old Powers building at Dock Seven, second floor. The bomb’s a dud - the worst that’ll happen when it goes off is a cloud of glitter.”
She’s not lying, Dick can tell. It’s not often Harley or any of Gotham’s villains makes it easy.
She steps closer, and Dick tenses up again in warning, but all she does is press a surprisingly sweet kiss to his cheek. “You ever want to play again, you know where to find me,” she says, voice a little sultry.
“Arkham?” he responds instinctively, and her laughter echoes across the warehouse as she makes her escape.
Tim’s already waiting for her right outside.
Dick heads for Dock Seven, a smile on his face.
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Dick/Harley
Theme: #08 Victory
Rating: G
Words: 496
“Looks like we’re evenly matched,” Harley announces dramatically. Which is total crap, because Harley may be good, but she’s fighting sloppy. Her heart isn’t in it, and now she’s looking for a way out. “The only way to resolve this is a flip-off!”
Dick raises an eyebrow behind his mask. “Okay,” he shrugs, trying not to smirk as he flips her off, just like she asked, middle finger raised.
“Don’t get cute with me, Nerdwing,” Harley snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him sternly. At least she’s not trying to kick Dick in the head anymore. “I meant a flip-off. Somersaults. I recognise a fellow gymnast when I fight one, so how about it?”
Hmm, interesting. “You want to have a somersaulting competition?” he asks slowly. Harley’s always chaotic and unpredictable, but this is definitely new.
“Yup!” she grins cheerfully. “Points for quality, quantity, height, speed, anything fancy. The only limit is the length of the floor.”
Okay, it looks like they’re actually doing this. Dick’s had weirder fights. “The stakes?”
“I win, you let me go,” Harley muses, finger pressed to her chin thoughtfully. “If you win, I’ll tell you where the hostages are, what traps you’ll be facing, blah blah blah.”
“And I take you in,” Dick adds.
“Nope, but I won’t complain if you sic one of the other Bat-brats on me while you go for the hostages.”
It’s good enough. Tim isn’t far away.
“Deal,” he nods. “But no tricks.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Harley promises, already lining herself up. It’s weird to see her so focused on something other than hurting people. And then she’s moving, cutting through the air, confident and skilled, clearly enjoying herself. Dick’s read up on her history, of course, and Harley was Olympic level at college, even before whatever Ivy fed her to push her further.
But she’s no Flying Grayson.
He applauds when she takes a bow, and she laughs and gestures that the floor is his.
Dick grins and starts running, and it always feels good, to just let loose, to twist and turn, building more height every time.
He sticks the landing, and Harley whistles, low and impressed.
“Nice moves,” she beams at him. “Hostages are at the old Powers building at Dock Seven, second floor. The bomb’s a dud - the worst that’ll happen when it goes off is a cloud of glitter.”
She’s not lying, Dick can tell. It’s not often Harley or any of Gotham’s villains makes it easy.
She steps closer, and Dick tenses up again in warning, but all she does is press a surprisingly sweet kiss to his cheek. “You ever want to play again, you know where to find me,” she says, voice a little sultry.
“Arkham?” he responds instinctively, and her laughter echoes across the warehouse as she makes her escape.
Tim’s already waiting for her right outside.
Dick heads for Dock Seven, a smile on his face.