Contacts

Sorry, Puddin'

Harley bounced on her toes when she stood outside her future home. After about six months in Arkham, she had been cleared as sane and was released. Dick, who was now Nightwing, had waited outside Arkham for her. When she had gotten out, she hugged him, happy to finally be able to get some real contact with him, besides talking. Now, she was in front of a place to live. Sure, she'd return to Gotham, but she could always stay here when she visited.

She almost squealed when Dick gave her a personal room. She expected the couch, or even the floor, like with her puddin'. Nope. He gave her her own bed, her own closet, and her own space. Harley had only received this kindness before she became a villain, and she was so unused to it, she didn't know how to react. Dick saw this and hugged her. She broke down, bawling. She kept thanking him, over and over again. Eventually, she got a hold, and walked in, still unable to believe it.

After getting all her stuff put away, which wasn't much, she walked into the living room and saw Dick on the couch. He was talking on the phone, sounding aggravated.
"... No, she's not trouble. She's passed every test that Arkham has given her. Yes, I plan on getting her to help me in Blüdhaven. No, I'm not worried she's going to stab me in the back! Look, we've gotten to know each other, and she's tired of Joker. I'm going to help clear the name of Harley Quinn, and nothing you say is going to stop that." He ended the call, ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

She sat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. She swore that she would never betray him. She knew that feeling. The feeling of having your trust broken. She hoped that never happened to Dick. He didn't deserve it.