Nightwing

Okay, this was humiliating.

Ever since Dick Grayson had moved to Bludhaven, he'd managed to step out from under the Bat's shadow as Nightwing. And for the most part, he got captured way less.

Which was why when he got knocked out, kidnapped and strapped to a gurney by Harley Quinn, it stung all the more. Not Harley and the Joker, not Harley and Joker's men, Dick had been taken out solely by the former Arkham intern.

“Just like old times, huh, bird boy?” Harley had whispered to him as he lost consciousness. Of course, he'd barely heard her over the baseball bat-induced ringing in his ears.

-

“Oh, yah're awake.” Harley observed, looking up from what she was doing at the immobilised Grayson. “Good.”

Despite his dire situation, Dick couldn't resist looking Harley up and down as she turned to look at him. In her mid-twenties, Harleen Quinzel was only a few years older than him. She looked younger than she was, though, something probably excacerbated by the thick white facepaint she almost always wore.

Harley was wearing her traditional jester's outfit, a red and black latex suit that left very, very little to the imagination. There was no denying Quinn had one hell of a body, even if she chose to keep it pressed up to Gotham's biggest psychopath. Or second biggest, depending on who you asked.

Harley had forgone the two-tailed cap tonight, instead wearing her blonde hair up in pigtails, the tip of either one dyed red or black to go with her color scheme.

Red and black was all well and good, but honestly, Dick preferred blue, just like on his-

“What the hell am I wearing?!” Dick exclaimed, as he glanced down at his immobilised body.

“Glad yah like it, Nightlight,” Harley said, drawing closer, a mirror in her hand. “Yah're damn lucky I had a spare.”

Lifting up the mirror, Harley let Dick get a better view of his new look.

His form-fitting black and blue combat suit, his escrima sticks, even his domino mask had all been taken away from him, dumped in a haphazard pile on the other side of Quinn's abandoned warehouse. In return, Harley had dressed him herself, like a human doll. And in a purple suit, an extremely liberal amount of white face paint and red lipstick. Hell, she'd even dyed his normally jet black locks bright green.

“I- I look like a freak!” Dick exclaimed, disturbed by his new visage.

“Yah look just like him! Like my Mistah J!” Harley beamed, reaching out to straighten Dick's bow tie.

“Why would you even do this, Quinzel?” Dick demanded, all the while dreading the answer.

“First of all: Don't give me none of that Quinzel crap!” Harley snapped. “Tonight, yah call me Harley. Or puddin', puddin'.”

“As for why? I should be askin' you why,” Harley began ranting. “Why are you and that mean old Bat always so hard on my puddin? Why'd you come after 'im when he never did anything to yah? Why would yah lock him up in Arkham on our anniversary?!” Harley demanded, jabbing her forefinger into Dick's chest on every 'why'.

Of course, Dick realised. January 16th. It was on this date several years ago that Harleen Quinzel had helped Joker escape Arkham and became his sidekick, Harley Quinn.

“All of which brings me to your **** makeover here.” Harley concluded. “Which yah can thank me for later, by the way.”

“Since yah helped take away my puddin', you get to help ease my loneliness tonight!” Harley said cheerily.

“You can not be serious.” Dick sighed, frowning, though it was a little hard to tell under the massive, pointed red grin on his face. “This is ridic-”

Dick stopped himself mid-sentence. This was Harley Quinn. No matter how ridiculous she seemed, when it came to her “Mistah J”, Harley was always deadly serious. Hell, he was lucky she hadn't dosed him with Joker Toxin before he woke, just to get a more authentic madman.

Seeming very pleased with herself, Harley ran one of her hands down Grayson's body, from his athletic torso, down to his crotch.

Needless to say, she was very pleased to find the tent in his purple pinstriped pants. Dick couldn't help it. This wasn't the first time in his career the clown had left him with an unfortunate erection. It just had to be the most embarrassing one.

“Well, well, well, looks like yah are ready to celebrate!” Quinn said, a devilish smile on her painted features as she unzipped Dick's pants.