BAE Chapter 44

“She’s not here,” Barbara says.

“What?” Harley shouts. The whimpering people and noise from the cordon outside combined with the security alarm make for a fair amount of noise.

“I said she’s not here!”

Barbara slowly puts her Batarang back on her belt and extends one calming hand.

“They only just announced the plan,” she goes on. “The courts haven’t even granted permission. There isn’t even a plan to move her yet. It’ll be at least a few days before she’s in this building. Ivy isn’t here. She’s still in Arkham.”

Harley stares, blinking owlishly.

The frightened intern, sweat streaming down her face, wiggles out of Harley’s grip and slinks away. Harley doesn’t even seem to notice. She looks at Barbara and her lip quivers.

“She really ain’t here?”

Barbara spreads her hands and shakes her head.

“Huh,” Harley says, abruptly lowering the grenade launcher. She sits on the edge of the fountain, looking lost. Wayne Enterprises employees crawl and scuttle away. She pays no attention to them.

Barbara slowly approaches.

“I thought they said she was here,” Harley goes on, staring into space.

“She will be,” Barbara replies, gently taking the grenade launcher out of Harley’s hands.

Harley sniffles. Barbara hesitates, then sits on the fountain beside her.

“I just miss her so much, you know!” Harley wails.

“Yeah,” Barbara says, patting her back awkwardly.

Harley wipes her eyes, smearing her makeup. She peers suspiciously at Barbara.

“How come you’re being so nice to me?”

Barbara isn’t sure how to answer. “Because I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she says finally.

Harley stares at her, looking moved.

Naturally, that’s when Bullock decides to rush in with the SWAT team, yelling.

Barbara leaps upright, stepping between Harley and the police, who approach with guns raised. With one hand toward the cops and the other toward Harley, Barbara’s heart rate shoots through the roof.

Harley stands, and streaked makeup can’t hide how pissed she looks.

“OK, stop,” Barbara orders Bullock, then she turns back to Harley. “Harley, we don’t have to do this.”

“Get outta the way, Bats. This psycho belongs in cuffs,” Bullock says, his revolver pointed straight at Harley. He doesn’t seem to mind that Barbara is in the way.

“She’s fine,” Barbara snaps. “Back off! She’ll come quietly.”

“Why should I?” Harley plants her hands on her hips and sticks her tongue out at Bullock.

“Yeah?” Bullock shouts back. “How bout we change your colors from black and red to black and blue, huh?”

“Don’t make me hurt you,” Barbara says, pointing a warning finger at him.

“You hear yourself right now, Bats? At least the other guy has a little respect for the law. You want to protect this loony?”

“I’m protecting you! What do you think the Joker will do to you if you hurt her?”

“My puddin’,” Harley says, getting a dreamy look in her eyes.

The Commissioner pushes his way past one of the SWAT men to stand beside Bullock, taking in the scene inside the lobby. His eyes are on Barbara and Harley, but he’s pointing to signal the men to help more of the employees get clear.

“Batgirl! Are we all right?” he asks.

“We’re fine,” Barbara tells him.

“We ain’t fine! Quinn still ain’t in cuffs and the kid won’t get out of the way,” Bullock protests.

“She’s coming quietly. We’re fine,” Barbara says firmly, turning back to Harley. “Harley! Focus,” she snaps. “You coming quietly or not?”

“With him?” she asks indignantly, looking at Bullock.

“Get him out of here,” Barbara says to the Commissioner, who waves Bullock back.

“Crummy clown show,” Bullock mutters, pulling his hat off and stalking out of the lobby. The Commissioner has his gun drawn, but he is not aiming at anyone. Barbara eyes her father warily, then meets Harley’s gaze.

“Come on, Harley. Give me your hands.”

Harley scowls, looking at the SWAT men and their guns, which surround her. Then she appears to brighten.

“All right,” she says, a hint of pouting in her voice. “But you gotta promise me not to let her touch my Pammy.”

“Huh?” Barbara can’t help herself. “What? Who?”

“That hussy on the TV,” Harley replies, as though that should be obvious. “She’s got the hots for my girl! She can’t hide it.”

Barbara stands there, at a loss for words.

“I thought you said you were on a break,” she says finally.

Harley shrugs with a smile. “I’m going to Arkham. She’s at Arkham. Break over. We’re pals now, right? Right, Bats?” Harley grabs Barbara’s gloved hand in both of hers. “Promise me. Please?”

“I promise,” Barbara says dazedly.

“Thanks! I owe you one.” Harley swoops in to plant a smooch on Barbara’s cheek, leaving a messy, obvious lip print. “OK, Commish. Put me away.” She holds out her wrists to Barbara’s father.

Barbara watches the SWAT team march Harley out and escort the shaken-up employees to the ambulances outside. She takes one last look around, shakes her head, and walks out into a blinding storm of camera flashes. Grimacing, she hurries back to the car and leaps inside.

Once the canopy is closed, she has peace, quiet, and privacy. She takes a long breath. Even without a single punch thrown, that was stressful.

“Is the situation under control?” Alfred asks.

“I guess,” Barbara replies. “Harley is a lot.”

“That’s putting it mildly. What are your plans?”

“I’m going to the Iceberg Lounge,” she replies, unlocking the steering wheel.

“As whom?”

It’s a good question.

Should Barbara go as Batgirl? Or as Barbara Gordon?