One last thought.

“Doc, I’d never dream of asking you to violate patient privileges, but you gotta tell me if there’s anything I should keep an eye out for with Ms. Quinzell.”

She considered. I pushed a little harder.

“Come on, doc, you’re the expert, the first I’ll know is when she’s knocking me out. Again. And then I won’t be doing anything but getting observed all evening. No fundraiser.”

“There are worse fates,” she muttered.

I laughed. “You ain’t the only doc here, I doubt the big boss is letting you escape that easy. Come on, save me from being examined from one of the incompetents who works here. You’re the only one here I can trust.”

Well, that almost worked, but she glared at me. “Are you saying that my staff aren’t competent?”

“I’m saying that you’re the only one here I trust.” I met her gaze evenly, looking down at her, as I towered over her and her tight little body, I let heat into my voice and gaze, though I didn’t look down from her face to the tits, or even the lips that I wanted to use and after a long moment she flushed and looked away.

“Be careful if she starts twirling anything, even her own hair…it’s a nervous tic which…I can’t tell you that.” +6 SP (Penelope: +13).

“Thank you. I’ll see this evening. Assuming I don’t get knocked out again,” I said with a smile.

She didn’t laugh, or even smile back. “Don’t get attacked again. I need you to do what you promised.”

That sounded tsundere, but I honestly think it was just callous? Anyway, I headed off to actual work, content with the progress I’d made. Well, not really, but it was all bonus compared to what I’d expected.

A few hours of work, then Firefly. We chatted a bit about the movie, mostly jokes about how unrealistic it was, starting with the flight and combat, but then slowly drifting into, “Come on, it’s not like people just forgive and forget about a lifetime of bad shit because you made one good choice.”

“They don’t.”

She looked hurt, but hid it behind triumph. “See, told you it’s bullshit.”

“No, I mean, they don’t do that in the movie. At the end, they explicitly say that they’re watching and what they’ve got is a second chance, not that anyone’s forgiving, let alone forgetting.”

“Yeah, right, like that’s any more real!”

“Tell me. Have you ever tried to go straight?” I asked.

She looked away.

I waited.

She whispered something. +5 SP (Firefly: +66)

“Speak up.”

“Yes. I tried. That’s how I know!” +1 SP (Firefly: +67)

“But it didn’t work.”

“No, just like I knew it would--”

“Because it couldn’t work, or because you didn’t prove your intent?”

“Oh, fuck you, you think I was lying?”

“Not what I said. I was asking if you proved it, not meant it.”

“How the fuck would I prove it?”

“You’d know that better than I. How would you prove that you’d broken with your old life?”

She stared at me for a long time, I thought she was going to answer, but then the guards announced their hour was up and she was escorted out. Dammit.

Well, nothing for it. The rest of the day flew by. Harley, annoyingly, helped set up without being ordered, so I got nothing for it. At least she had her jumpsuit unzipped to a point where her cleavage was almost as obvious as it was was in her usual outfit, but I managed to keep my eyes on her face, even if the other guards weren’t as successful.

We finished setting up and others jumped in to answer the popcorn question, so I went and got that, then we took the vote on talking. The vote was almost unanimous for talking during the movie, as Harley was…extremely clear on her position. It was only almost unanimous because some people in Arkham were actually crazy, and that included at least one guy in this group.

But that wasn’t my problem. There was no surprise when Harley sat next to me and began talking. Endlessly and not particularly quietly, her accent contrasted weirdly with the ones on the screen and her joking about the class system had a surprisingly bitter edge to it, but as the love story heated up, she began to pay more attention, but her hands were on her thighs, not twirling anything.

Her breathing hitched slightly at the sex scene, even if nothing was really on screen. Her hands inched towards her groin, she was sitting in the back with me and everyone else was watching the show. I let my gaze move back to the screen and just listened. My peripheral vision caught a bit of movement, which I think was her looking at me to make sure I wasn’t watching.

Then I heard the slight rustle of clothing. I didn’t think she was stripping or anything, but if she’d left her panties behind, she might be able to rub herself through the rough fabric of her jumpsuit.

I stupidly flicked a slight glance to the side and saw what I expected, but she noticed me looking and her hands jumped back to her thighs, legs spreading…to prove she wasn’t doing anything? As invitation?

She gave me a slight smile, and didn’t blush at all. This felt like an invitation. And a trap. I should have checked her fucking profile, that would have told me if she was masturbating.