Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Harry and Harley, Chapters 9 and 10 By Rihaan Shimomura

   I don't recommend reading the story in this format, as it doesn't have
italics or bolds or anything else I may try to add to the story format.  I
recommend going to
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Rihaan_Shimomura/Stories/HandH/ to read
this.  But hey, if you want to read it this way, that's your prerogative.

   Chapter 9: Thunder, Thunder, THUNDER!

   In the edge of the shadows of Park Row, Bruce Wayne reflected on the
past several minutes - the unbelievable moments that had transpired before
him.

   What happened the previous night - the fire, the command Warlock held,
the deflection of the bullets, the fierceness of the duo at his side as
they almost begged for a full-on battle, and their teasing smiles as they
vanished into thin air; all of it proved that he was facing a new league of
opponent.

   "/I'm more than unstoppable...  I'm the Warlock."/

   Bruce closed his eyes, shaking his head ruefully.

   What happened before paled in comparison to what he had just seen
minutes ago.

   Now...  he was unsure as to what to do at this point, as stubborn as he
was to admit it.  The previous night, he had discovered, in a rather
unpleasant way, that The Femme Fatale - the Divas of Destruction - had a
new member of their group.  And he was more dangerous than the both of them
combined.

   Though, he probably wasn't giving Harley and Ivy enough credit.  There
were certainly enough missing and misplaced assets in WayneTech's funds to
prove that they were, quite possibly, the deadliest people on earth.  On
the streets, they really didn't do much - small jobs, a few statements
made, and a few other crimes that he suspected, but ultimately couldn't
accuse - but when they did strike, they did it with a ferocity that brought
out the best in the Batman.

   And whenever he attacked one, he always brought out the best in the
other, more than ready to defend, for their partner's sake.

   Now, he could see exactly how close they really were, and why they
fought so fiercely for each other.  And as he discovered that fact, a new
ripple appeared in the form of Warlock.  Now he knew what he was truly
dealing with.

   Nothing could convince him more that he was facing a very dangerous man
- a man that could seemingly talk to a different country without any
technology, raise the dead, and has a seemingly endless supply of his power
and influence.  Any of those alone would be a daunting task to overcome.

   But it didn't matter.  None of it mattered.  The information coming in
from Captain Gordon was something that could be very useful.  He needed
every bit of information if he hoped to track them down.  By the sound of
things, they were living in the same home.  Unfortunately for him, it
seemed very unlikely that he would ever be able to follow them.

   He had to have a history somewhere else, likely in Europe; he also had
to have done something to catch the duo's attention in the first place.

   He paused.  The heist.  It had to be it.  It was so outside of Harley's
character, the act of sneaking in and out completely undetected, that she
had to have learned it from /someone/.

   He was with her that night.  It would explain how she quickly escaped
their sights.

   He needed to go to the crime scene - the police may have gathered what
evidence they could, but he had more to work with now.

   He could see what they were becoming, and they needed to be stopped.  He
had a great deal of planning to do.

   But first, he had to find Nigma - and quick.

   -----------------------

   "What...?  What am I looking at?" Selina asked the uncomfortably silent
room carefully.  "Pam?  Harls?  Can someone tell me what I'm looking at?"

   No one responded.  She probably wouldn't have been able to hear them,
let alone be pleased by whatever answer she got.  Already disoriented by
the uneasy feeling of popping from one place to another, she didn't need
another disconcerting moment in its place.

   Juliet leaned forward on her front paws, before slowly strutting
forward. Her piercing red eyes were on the new presence, tense and ready,
while her ears perked up at the sound of her followers staying close.  She
began her slow inspection of their subject, her tail twitching in
excitement as she started to circle her newest...  inquisition.

   She stopped abruptly as Twilight bravely marched forward, and looked
into the subject's eyes with her own steely grey.

   The mysterious black cat didn't flinch - it just stared back curiously,
its entire form relaxed, yet intimidating, as it looked down at the
smaller, by comparison, form.

   Juliet licked a striped paw as she waited impatiently for the staring
contest to finish, before looking up to her owner.

   Harley was knocked out of her transfixed stupor by her tigress's stare,
and looked away from the green-eyed panther.  "Did somebody say something?"

   Ivy flinched in surprise as a tail brushed against her bare leg, and her
head snapped towards the golden lion peering up at her with icy blue eyes.
"I missed you too, you little squirt."

   "Hey!" Harleen complained indignantly.  "I don't hear her calling you
anything!"

   Selina's eye twitched.  "Maybe because you don't speak cat."

   "I'm not even pointing out the irony," Ivy muttered, leaning down on one
knee to brush her hand against Bubbles's soft golden coat.

   They heard an unmistakable growl, which came out more like a chuckle, as
the large black cat was licked on the side of his face by the snow leopard
beside him.

   "I think they like him," Harleen noted, amused.  "More than me, I think.
Though, if I had the powers of a /Manimal/, I think they'd be more
receptive to me, too."

   Ivy tried to make sense of the sleek, large, black panther with familiar
green eyes, still absently petting the purring lion.  "When...  when we get
back.  I want you to write down every single trick you have.  It's okay to
surprise others - /I don't like surprises/."

   The panther did an equivalent of a shrug, mindful of the leopard's head
resting against his shoulders, and looked back over to Juliet, whose eyes
were back on him.

   She began circling him again.  His eyes followed her imperiously, a
relaxed confidence in the air while he was being stalked upon.

   In the end, she stopped at Harley's feet, and her nostrils flared.  She
looked up at Harley, and back at the imposing figure.

   "Hah!" Selina boasted.  "She smells him all over you!"

   Harleen reached her hand down to pet her youngest feline.  "Note to self
- sex and hygiene aren't best friends.  /Isn't that right, Jules-y/?"

   There was a groan, and everyone's head snapped back to the green-eyed
wizard, who now had a relaxed Twilight across his human legs, stroking her
gently from head to tail with his human hands.  "A baby voice?  Really?  I
suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but..." he made a tired groan again,
conveying his feelings on the matter.

   "We can't all be Catboys," she said scathingly, narrowing her eyes. 
"Was that a trick you learned ten minutes ago?  What the hell was that?"

   "I can transform my hair, my eyes, and my own skin," Harry explained,
scratching lightly behind the leopard's ear.  "If I tried, I could look
like /you/.  An animal transformation doesn't sound too impossible."

   Harley shook her head, trying to make the headache go away.  "Trust me -
it does."

   "I've just got the one," he said quickly.  "You know - if that means
anything.  I'm not going to turn into a cockroach in bed or anything."

   "Oh, that's cute," Ivy tittered, standing back up.  "You still think you
have bed privileges."

   "You guys sleep in the same bed?" Selina wondered, grinning like her
namesake.  "Well, at least he's housebroken."

   Harry looked around at the three mildly irritated women.  "I feel like
I'm being ganged up on."

   Juliet purred lazily under her owner's fingers, and Harry chuckled. 
"Well, yeah, I suppose the 'good way' is out of the question, now, isn't
it?"

   "A book," Harleen muttered.  "It's going to take an entire fucking book,
isn't it?  To list all the powers you have."

   Harry shook his head.  "Actually, Hermione's been keeping detailed
notes. It's kind of emasculating, just writing down what I can and can't
do."

   Bubbles, feeling ignored, moved over to Harry, calmly tucking her head
into his outstretched palm.

   Ivy leaned against the chair in the sitting room, trying to absorb the
astounding sight before her.  "Why?  Because it's just not impressive
enough?"

   "It's not that," Harry tried to defend himself.  "But it kind of is.  I
mean, she's just going for the basics.  I can turn into a Shadow Panther,
I'm a Metamorphmagus, I can do wandless magic - but what about the other
stuff?  No mention on how I can cook, or how good I am with my hands, or
how well I can sing.  Okay, I can't really sing, but a mention of the
things that aren't so...  strange, helps.  I mean, most of the things that
I do weren't things I could do without a lot of help."

   "What do you mean by that?" Harley wondered, sitting with Juliet,
rubbing her upright back.  "Magical rituals or something?  Virgin blood and
frog tongues?"

   "We tend to use salamander tongues more, actually.  And virgin blood
doesn't mean much in rituals, from what Daphne could find.  No, it's more
to do with me being bitten by quite a few magical creatures.  After I found
out I had a Horcrux, I began to lack in inhibitions.  It wasn't until I met
Fawkes, my phoenix, when I really started taking drastic measures.  When
you have a dark lord after you, and you're partially immortal, you do
anything you can to get a leg up." He looked down to the white mountain
cat; she seemed to have fallen asleep on his legs.  "Unfortunately, I don't
have powers that would stop my legs from falling asleep.  Or
super-strength."

   Harley looked around awkwardly.  "Well, whaddya want us to do about it?
Twilight isn't exactly portable."

   "How did you get them here?" Harry inquired.  "Wherever here is?"

   Selina fished out her jade stone and put it on her shelf, before turning
back to the two trios.  "We're in an old building complex that I spruced up
a bit." At Ivy's raised brow, she frowned.  "Remember when I was looking
for a room?"

   Pamela looked around the dark room some more.  It had a lot of high-end
furniture, in a low-end shack.  The television set upon a polished oak
cabinet, which sat upon a Persian rug.  The dusty floor below it, however,
discredited the otherwise elegant view.

   The green-skinned girl sighed.  "Harley, what do you think?"

   "She keeps the whip and claws away from me, and we don't have a
problem," she said simply, scratching the young tigress's chin.

   She eyed her boyfriend warily.  "Harry?"

   "Your house," he said simply.  "I'm a visitor.  Sorry for not telling
you before about my form.  Just thought it would be a pleasant surprise, is
all.  The moment I heard you had a pet, I made the decision not to mention
it."

   She could tell that he was genuinely upset at their reactions, and her
voice softened.  "It was a surprise.  We just had an overreaction.  It
was...  unexpected."

   Harleen laughed heartily.  "As opposed to everything else you've done
since you got here."

   "Here?" Selina looked at her weirdly.  "He just got here.  You mean here
in Gotham?"

   Harley shook her head.  "Nope.  America.  As you can tell by the accent,
he's not from around here."

   "And don't ask how we met," Harry quipped.  "We're still thinking of a
cover-story."

   The ebony-haired beauty opened her mouth; then closed it silently.  "I
don't want to know.  So, do I have a room?"

   Pamela nodded.  "Sure.  Fair warning - Harley's in heat."

   Her girlfriend blushed furiously.  "Well y-you don't need to say it like
that!  It's not like you two are helping!"

   "We're actively /not/ helping," The raven-haired teen supported her
claim.  "We're encouraging it, really."

   "As if I was saying it like it was a bad thing." Pamela smirked.  "So,
while the walls are soundproofed, there will always be a standing 'Knocking
Before Entering' policy enforced."

   Selina nodded vigorously, grateful.  "No problem.  I won't even knock -
I'll just stay the hell away."

   "I should probably be insulted by that," Harry muttered nonchalantly,
still scratching the purring lion's head between the ears, "considering you
had a completely different tune before you met me."

   The spandex-clad thief hummed to herself.  "And then I met you."

   "Play nice, kids," Harleen chastised the two, before hugging her pet
tiger to herself.  "I've missed you so much, Jules-y.  Yes I ha-ave!"

   Harry shrugged at the tigress's pointed look.  "Yeah, I guess it's
something I have to get used to."

   "Oh, shut it!  She likes the way I talk to her.  She thinks it's cute!
Don't you, /Julesey Woolsey~~/"

   "I think it's time to go now, Harley," Ivy interrupted, pinching the
bridge of her nose.  She was starting to think that she liked it better
when the dear girl was sexed out.  "To /our/ home," she said pointedly to
Harry.  She hadn't forgotten that '/visitor/' nonsense.  "We can pick up
this stuff later."

   He looked around.  "I've never shrunken any electronics before.  I don't
want to risk it.  I can handle the furniture, though."

   "I'll handle the more...  personal items," Selina purred, "and I could
always steal more furniture.  Though it would be a pretty good challenge
for me.  Getting all these things to the outskirts of Gotham..."

   Harley still had a pressing question to pose - "What about Selina's
cats? They don't get along with my babies.  I don't think that
arrangement's gonna work long."

   "They'll get along," Harry assured her, subtly slipping out of the
massive weight of the snow leopard on his legs, having successfully put the
cat to into a near comatose sleep.  "They were just rather defensive of
Juliet's...  cravings."

   The three girls stared at him weirdly, and he felt a sense of déjà vu.
He nervously cleared his throat.  "She's in heat."

   After a few moments of silence, Harleen looked at her dear tiger, looked
at Harry, and spoke.  "You're not fucking my cat."

   Harry laughed; a rich, pure laugh.  "I didn't even consider that
thought!"

   She raised a skeptical eyebrow.  "Really?  Why?  She not good enough for
you?"

   He let out a mirthful scoff.  "I wouldn't know - I'm human."

   Harleen eyed the shape-shifter incredulously.  "So was that another
illusion?"

   "No," he explained, "I was an actual panther.  I could talk to them and
everything, if they bothered to speak.  Every witch or wizard has at least
one form.  Hermione's is an eagle and a lion."

   "And your other form?" Ivy wondered, and Selina would be lying to
herself if she wasn't a little curious.

   "Just the one," Harry shrugged, "and it seems that no matter what I do,
the one form is all I can achieve.  Since our magical cores are linked
through our spiritual core, I can do her forms and she can do mine.  With a
twist."

   "Of course there's a twist," Harley smirked, expecting no less.  "Let me
guess?  With the powers combined, when the blue moon rises and the stars
are in the shape of a lightning bolt, you can turn into a dragon?"

   "That would be pretty cool," Harry said wistfully, before he shook his
head, his loose ebony hair swishing against his ears.  "No.  I don't really
need a dragon.  I've had enough of dealing with those.  What happens is
Hermione's eyesight, in her eagle form or not, can see miles ahead.  My
panther form can run faster than Hermione's lion form.  Little
indiscretions like that."

   Selina nodded knowingly.  "Okay, that's odd.  Lionesses are the
second-fastest cats in the world.  I'm also assuming that you both can
speak to animals even when not in that form?"

   He nodded.  "Not very useful unless you're looking for someone."

   "Speaking of which," Selina inquired, "Who is Hermione?  Your sister?"

   "Close," the Boy-Who-Lived admitted slowly, "Or rather, closer.  To the
outside eye, she's my best friend."

   "...  Am I still considered an outsider?" She wondered incredulously
after a few seconds of silence.

   The green-eyed boy took a moment to consider.  "Yes," he said in the
end. "I don't know much about you, nor you about me.  I don't know your
intentions, nor do you know mine."

   Her black gloves rubbed her chin.  "Fair enough, I guess." She grinned.
"But I'm going to guess that she's your friend with benefits."

   "Huh," Harleen said plainly.  "Never considered that term before."

   "I've always thought it the same thing," Pamela argued, shrugging. 
"Friends who have sex.  The only thing missing is the monogamous
commitment. Technically, I guess, that's a term that describes us."

   "You wouldn't consider us committed?" Harry asked them curiously.

   "In the classical sense - no," the blonde admitted, "though I can tell
you quite a few psychiatric treatment doctors that might argue with that.
Still, I suppose in a more modern era, it's a less relevant term. 
Commitment is overrated."

   "Says the girl who was in a one-girl dedicated relationship two days
ago," Ivy pointed out with a sly grin.  She looked over to Bubbles and
Twilight, who were purring under Harry's gentle hands.  "Though you make it
very difficult to regret our actions - so far."

   "So far," he confirmed.  "You don't know how bad my luck can run most
times."

   "Hot blonde, smokin' exotic redhead, and a dominatrix that takes her
role too seriously," Harley ticked them off.  "All in about thirty-six
hours.  I look forward to seeing what you consider good luck."

   "Don't involve me in your little stable," Selina held up her hands.  "I
plan on paying for my room with /money/, thank you."

   Ivy rolled her eyes.  "You done pimping out our man, Harley?  We've
still got an appointment for today, and we need to go get dressed."

   The young blonde patted the tiger once more on the head, then jumped up.
"Where to, Red?"

   "Well," she began, "if we're going to murder Bruce Wayne, I'll assume we
need some reinforcements.  Getting into his mansion probably won't be
easy."

   "It won't be," Harry shook his head.  "Which is one of the many reasons
we can't kill him yet."

   She crossed her arms, lightly frowning.  "I'm listening."

   "Yeah," Selina agreed, leaning against the wall.  "I kind of want to
hear this."

   Harley tilted her head.  "I can see why you wouldn't want to kill him
now, but you said that he could be useful.  How?  Do you see him joining
our side anytime soon?  Or are we talking mind-control here?"

   He raised an eyebrow.  "You have a very active imagination," he smirked.

   She waved it off.  "It's always the crazy ones." She crossed her arms,
much like her girlfriend, with the exception of a soft smile on her lips.
"Well?"

   "I'm not going to lie; I'm betting the idea is tempting to you.  When
Hermione gets back to us with the comics, it's going to be even more
tempting.  We'll know everything that happened, and everything that could
potentially happen.  I'm betting I won't be in it, so I can only imagine
that there's going to be a lot of changes starting /today/."

   "Did I miss something?" Selina raised her hand.

   "You're supposed to raise your hand /first/," Harley pointed out.

   She shrugged.  "I never went to school.  So what's all this about a
comic?  Everything that could potentially happen, you said?  You're telling
me that you can see into the future?"

   "Even where I come from, soothsayers are widely considered skeptical,"
Harry chuckled, "Including me.  I get the occasional bad feeling of
impending doom, but other than that, I couldn't tell you what you're doing
tomorrow.  Long story short, you've probably been catalogued in a series
based on the adventures of the guy you fight on a weekly basis.  He's the
star, and you're all the antagonists."

   "Which is bullshit, by the way," Harleen sniffed.  "He's a guy in a
costume.  That's generic.  It's not like he's the world's only superhero or
something, and he's not even super!  It shouldn't be a comic, it should be
a movie, and /I/ should be the star.  Cecilia Sunbeam
<http:/dc.wikia.com/wiki/Cecilia_Sunbeam_(Prime_Earth)> stars as the world
renowned Daring Demoness Harley Quinn!"

   "You put thought into that," Pamela said slowly.  "Do I get a part in
your feature?"

   "/Trilogy/," she corrected her, "and of course.  The Seductive Siren,
Poison Ivy, played by Roxanne Snow
<http:/dc.wikia.com/wiki/Roxanne_Snow_(New_Earth)>."

   Her lips quirked.  "Siren?"

   A glimmer of playfulness sparkled in her eyes.  "In my world, babe,
you're a /screamer/."

   "I don't think I'd mind that," the Boy-Who-Lived slowly admitted with a
grin.  "But before we get to your own movie trilogy, we're going to have to
get to a place where we're in control.  Police will be a problem, yes.  And
so will Batman.  But what about the others?"

   "Others?  You mean the other superheroes?"

   He shook his head.  "They're a much bigger problem that we'll have to
deal with later.  I'm talking about the guys who want to do what we're
about to do.  We try to take this city, the ones who already have it, or
are looking forward to taking it, will be threatened by us."

   Ivy and Harley seemed to absorb that information, while Selina still
looked confused.  "You still haven't told me about these comic books."
Irritation seeped into her voice.  "You telling me we're all being recorded
or something?  Somebody else out there knows who all of us are?"

   Harry frowned.  He knew she would have to be introduced to his world
sooner rather than later.  "I don't know.  Not yet.  I only know of his
lore, and that he seems to be a popular figure where I'm from, and no, it's
not from this world."

   She blinked.  "You're an alien?"

   Harry, not really having any other reference, nodded.

   The spandex-clad thief shook her head wryly.  "Now things are starting
to make sense around here!" She looked over to Harleen.  "So how's the...
probing?"

   She didn't show a hint of embarrassment.  "Really?  That's the best pun
you could come up with?  /Probing/?  What do you expect me to say?  'Out of
this world?' You can do better, Kyle."

   The ebony-haired girl flushed.  "Give me a break, alright!  I've never
met an alien before, when the fuck am I gonna get the chance to say it
again?"

   The blonde only rolled her eyes.  "Kind of my point."

   Ivy had by now approached Harry, and was leaning against him, watching
the two bicker.  "We could just leave them here, for a while," she
suggested with a whisper.  "She sent her cats here so they would get
acclimated to Selina and her pets.  I think Harley should get the same
treatment as well."

   "I can hear you," Harley whispered to her girlfriend, just as lowly, as
if keeping the same secret.  "Whispering only helps when we're yelling."

   "Then how come no one heard me when I asked if we were ready to go?"

   Selina whistled through her teeth a calm, low whistle, and a second
later, a brown-spotted tabby zipped from behind the television and leaped
into her waiting arms.  She began stroking its harried fur delicately,
before looking back at Harley.  "Believe it or not, this one was the least
afraid of my cats.  Sasha will be my only carry-on."

   The green-eyed wizard nodded approvingly at the useful skill, before
reaching down to rub his hand across Twilight's vast spine.  "Everybody
hold hands - you know the deal."

   After some confusion on the jungle cats' sakes, and a final look at the
run-down shack, Selina nodded, and the significantly larger group
disapparated.

   -----------------------

   *~Flashback, Pre-Veil~*

   Harry caught himself as he almost slammed forward onto the business end
of his fork.

   "You okay, Harry?" Parvati asked worriedly, putting her quill back in
the inkwell next to her essay, her half-eaten meal forgotten.  She eyed him
carefully.  "Did you get any sleep last night?"

   "I'm alright, Pad," He slurred, "was just up a bit late.  No problems."

   She frowned.  "Is it about Hermione?" she asked softly, eying the Great
Hall for any onlookers.

   "Hermione?" Susan wondered, sitting across from Harry.  "Is she alright?
I assumed she went to class early."

   Parvati shook her head.  "There was a family emergency - she had to go
home for the weekend.  That's what Lavender told me, anyway."

   "Oh," Susan gasped.  "Harry, do you know what happened?"

   He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, considering that it
was a cover story he had convinced Lavender to spread.  Hermione,
physically, had gotten better, but she still wouldn't awaken.  It was the
only thing he could think of, and had been thinking of for the past three
days.

   He had told her a lot of things that had happened at the Dursley home,
and his journey abroad, but now, she knew...  everything.  She knew the
worst of the worst, now.

   Harry didn't know if he would ever tell her about 'Harry Hunting'.  He
didn't think he would ever explain that while Dudley got bored of any new
toys he had very quickly throughout his lifetime, his favorite toy, that
lasted for an astonishing three months, was the fire-poker, that was only
discarded when it was far too bent - of course, Harry was to blame, for not
being fragile enough.  He never wanted to tell Hermione about the breaks,
the snaps, the internal bleeding that he had to endure on his sixth
birthday, when he innocently asked his aunt what day it was, literally not
having a clue as to what day it was.

   But if there was one thing that he had promised never to tell /anyone/,
it was the ruddy /cupboard/.

   He honestly didn't know what point he had stopped worrying about his
friend's well-being, and started worrying about his own secrets revealed to
her, and he felt ashamed of himself for it.  But it didn't stop him from
worrying, never-the-less.

   He still felt her lips on his three days ago - their first kiss.  It was
out of nowhere - and, for a moment, he thought it was truly just a ploy to
get him to shut up.  But he knew her.

   However, it now seemed that she knew him better than anyone else.  Maybe
she knew that he wanted a kiss?  Could she have done that just to appease
him?  Could it have been pity?  A spark of emotion, generated from his soul
half in her body?  Could anything she try to feel in the future simply be
an extension of his own emotions?  Could she never have her own feelings
expressed again, and she would be nothing but a vessel?

   His mind had been in turmoil for the past three days with these pressing
- /exasperating/ questions.  And now, on a Monday, he had to deal with
classes.

   He had ordered Snape to go on sick leave, so he could spend all of his
time on looking over Hermione, but it would be suspicious if both he and
Hermione were conveniently sick.

   On the plus side, he finally had confirmation from Tonks - The rat was
flooed to Madam Bones the previous night.  In a matter of days, Sirius
would be free.  He seemed to be relatively comfortable inside Potter
Mansion, but Harry was sure he'd like the idea of stretching his legs a
bit. Maybe get a place of his own.  Sirius, bless him, could never be much
of a father figure.  Harry had been more of the parent in their
relationship during the times he wasn't walking Padfoot, or when Hermione
was at school and he needed a friend to play with.

   Perhaps it was best if Sirius went off and lived his own life - the life
he was never allowed to have.  He seemed particularly pleased when he read
that he was merely a /national/ criminal.

   Harry Potter - all alone, once again.  As it probably should have been
from the beginning.

   "/You're not alone, Harry./"

   He didn't bother to react.  He had been hearing Hermione's voice all
night, in short statements, once or twice an hour, and he resolved to
himself to take a dreamless sleep potion tonight.

   "Harry," Parvati said quietly, and he lifted his head weakly to meet her
brown, curious eyes.  "Would you rather take the day off?  I'll take your
notes for you."

   He wanted to shake his head, but it was far too heavy to put it in such
a motion.  So he just stared.

   She bit her lip nervously.  "You and Hermione have the highest marks in
our year so far.  I don't think they'd mind if you played hooky once."

   Susan, unbeknownst to Harry, had gotten up and stood behind him.  "Let's
take you back to the common room," she said gently.  Harry, unable to do
anything, allowed Susan to lift him to his feet.  He swayed a little, and
Susan caught him, and he quickly righted himself.  He quickly decided that
having someone carry him everywhere was not something he wanted repeated
anytime soon.

   He wildly shook his head and sleepily thanked Susan, before stumbling
towards the doors of the Great Hall, ignorant of the murmurs and whispers
around him.

   The Fat Lady's portrait was finally in his sight when he noticed that
Susan and Parvati was behind him - and he only noticed when they began
talking to a third person.

   "Are you sure you should be with us right now?" Susan said carefully,
her eyes glancing back and forth between Daphne and Harry's faltering walk.

   The platinum blonde had her arms crossed as she eyed the boy in front of
him.  "They won't be a problem.  Is he alright?"

   Parvati shook her head.  "He called me Padma earlier.  He must be out of
it."

   Daphne tried not to show her surprise.  Sometimes, even she got the two
confused, when not looking or listening for the tells, but Harry had never
mistaken one for the other - he made it look easy.  "Does this have to do
with Hermione's absence?"

   "Word spreads fast," Susan admitted.  "So you know about her family
emergency?"

   She frowned.  "Makes more sense than what I heard."

   "What did you hear?" the redhead inquired.

   "I heard that she was injured when she and Harry battled that troll
together."

   The two girls were in a shocked silence when Harry murmured the password
to the Fat Lady ("/Lionheart./").  He carefully leaned against the swinging
portrait passageway and turned back to the girls.  "Thanks," he muttered
tiredly and awkwardly.  He had no idea what they were talking about, but he
assumed it was something big by the way they were looking at him.

   "Did you..." Susan tried to phrase her words carefully, knowing how
private he and Hermione were about some things.  "Is Hermione okay, Harry?"

   Even through restless eyes, he could see the sincerity in hers.  "She's
better," he promised, yawning as he did so - not bothering to cover his
mouth.

   The girls took no offense, but they did look concerned.  "You should get
some sleep, Harry," Parvati said gently, but firmly.  "You look a wreck."

   "I am," he promised again, before he promptly fainted dead, not hearing
their shrieks of surprise and worry.

   "/You're never alone.  We'll take care of you."/

   -----------------------

   *~Post-Veil, Hogwarts~*

   Severus eyed the misty archway before him with disdain.

   "Such power," he murmured in reverence, almost admiring the ancient
artifact.  "A doorway into another world.  The Dark Lord is now gone, and
dear Harold taken into another life.  The mysteries you hold..."

   Daphne cleared her throat.  "It's not that mysterious anymore.  Fleur
and I figured it out, with help from Tonks and Harry."

   Tracey leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, eying the veil
with pure hatred.  "I don't know whether to destroy the bloody thing when
we're done with it or use it against the rest of the followers."

   Severus joined his hands behind his back.  "I wouldn't put it behind
some of them to have a Horcrux of their own."

   "That's the thing that we discovered," Daphne told her Head of House,
before pulling out a chain attached to a locket.  "A week ago, this locket
was heavy.  Now, it's noticeably lighter.  And that was our first clue."
She pushed some light strands of blondish blue hair from her eyes as she
handed him the locket, which he took with minutely trembling hands.  "It's
gone.  The Horcrux is completely gone."

   His fingers ran over the emerald stones that laid an 'S' form, feeling a
chill up his spine at the serpentine design, before he sneered.  "Did it
escape?"

   She shook her head.  "It's always a possibility.  But the more likely
answer is that it's gone.  Gone with Harry's soul.  It couldn't take that
degree of separation, and it was ripped from Voldy himself."

   Snape cringed.  Even now, it was strange to hear a Slytherin call the
Dark Lord by the name 'Voldy'.  "What of Mister Potter?  The same should
have happened to him and Miss Granger."

   "Yes, it should have," a slightly accented voice agreed with them.  They
turned to see Miss Delacour stalk into the room with purpose, her eyes
locked on the veil.  A brilliantly gleaming tiara sat askew upon her head,
loose strands covering her stunning visage.  It didn't ruin her beauty, or
mar her tired stare.  "Harry and Hermione would have died two days ago, if
he had gone through this veil unprotected." She closed her eyes and
breathed a sigh of relief.  "However, thankfully, they are protected by
Death itself."

   Snape tried not to show his confusion, but Daphne seemed to pick up on
it anyway.  "When I was a child," she began, "I read a story about three
brothers, and how they managed to trick Death.  One of the prizes awarded
was a cloak of invisibility that lasts forever.  The other was a stone that
communicates with the dead.  The last was a wand that made the castor
unbeatable." Her eyes flashed dangerously.  "I was there when it happened
at the Ministry.  Hermione was setting traps for the Death Eaters. 
'Expelliarium Wards', she called them; Domes that could disarm you the
second you stepped through, leaving you open to attack.  That way, if any
of us got caught in the almost unnoticeable ward, we could still protect
ourselves, but very few others could use Wandless Magic to that degree. 
Dumbledore walked through that room, saw his wand fly out his hand, and
I've never seen him so grave before.  He looked straight at me and asked me
who put up the ward.  I was rather busy fighting Rodolphus, but I don't
think he believed me when I told him that I didn't know.  He picked up his
wand, and I saw him struggle as he performed simple charms on the ward. 
The fact that he never found out who cast it is evidence enough that
Dumbledore's wand, oddly, became useless to him."

   Her eyes burned a hole through the back of his head, and Severus, had he
not been an accomplished Occlumens, would have felt violated at that very
moment.  "He still doesn't know that Hermione is the true owner of that
wand - the Elder Wand."

   He took a moment to absorb that information.  "And the Resurrection
Stone?"

   "The ring," Fleur murmured with confidence.  "The Gaunt Ring.  That's
not their coat of arms etched into it.  It's the symbol of the three
hallows.  I don't know how it can be activated, but it should.  Harry and
Hermione cannot be touched as long as one or both of them have that
protection.  Even death's portal knew that."

   Severus blinked.  "And what of the Dark Lord?"

   "His soul was a leech," Daphne spat, "and it was treated as such.  It
was always sucking off of Harry and Hermione's soul, never actually being a
part of it.  It was never truly connected."

   "That's our thoughts, anyway," Fleur disclaimed, sighing tirelessly into
her hands.  She seemed to remember something, and removed the familiar
diadem from the top of her head.  "Hermione will be pleased to know that
this works."

   "We'll have to tell Hermione about Sirius," Tracey said depressingly. 
"She'll probably take it better than Harry would."

   "The ritual will take more than a few days." She looked pointedly at
Snape, once again.  "Which is why we summoned you here."

   He raised an eyebrow.  "I am no alchemist, Miss Greengrass.  I would not
have the slightest idea on how to use the Stone."

   She shook her head.  "I figured as much.  No, we need a distraction for
Dumbledore.  The press will provide that for us.  We just have to give them
the bait.  Unlock Voldemort's door.  Let everyone know what happened to
their precious Lord."

   His throat tightened.  He would have to do it quick; he'd rather not be
there for any reactions.  "And how will that get back to the media?"

   "Lavender already knows the story.  All she needs is a picture.  Or a
pensieve memory."

   "And what of the Alchemist?"

   She shook her head.  "We'll have to talk to Hermione about it."

   "Flammel?"

   "Maybe.  If he's willing to help." She shrugged.  "We don't have him on
a payroll or anything.  We'd probably have to give him an artifact in
return.  We left on good enough terms."

   Severus eyed the veil one last time before stalking out of the room.

   Tracey sighed tirelessly in the silence.  "We've been holding up rather
well.  Daph?"

   "Better than I would've ever thought," she chuckled.  "I suppose when we
signed up for this, we should have suspected something to happen.  This
year has been rather uneventful."

   A soft glow emitted from Fleur's delicate hand.  "Lucky you.  I've had
to deal with nosy classmates.  And Gabrielle would not stop talking about
her upcoming maturity."

   The younger girls eyed her pulsing hand.  "Fleur?" Daphne started
slowly.

   Her sights were set on the archway in front of her.  "This thing; what
have you done with it?" She inquired testily.

   Daphne considered her words.  "Nothing too experimental.  Just seeing
who can go in and out, and where they might lead."

   "So you've never tried a spell?"

   "Objects?  Yes.  Spells?  No."

   Flames flickered into life in her palm, before a raging ball of heat
swirled between her fingers.  "No time like the present."

   -----------------------

   *~Present Day, Outskirts of Gotham~*

   "Seriously, though.  You're not having sex with Juliet."

   Harry feigned sadness.  "What's the point of turning into an animal if I
can't move to the jungle and assert myself as the king?"

   Ivy snorted.  "You practically did when you came here."

   Harley got the hint, and rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, yeah, I get it. 
You're not as into being a cat as Selina, I guess." She laughed at the
irony.

   "If anything," Harry shrugged, "Sirius would be your biggest problem. 
He's sort of looked down upon in my world, which makes it difficult for him
to get any attention from the fairer sex.  His animagus form is a dog."

   Ivy slipped off her flip-flops and sat on their bed, groaning as she did
so.  "And to think, we were only going to see a dinner and a movie today."

   "We still can," he suggested.  "Or we could cause some havoc and draw
out Batman again.  We need to talk."

   "Don't bother," she shook her head.  "He only shows up at night."

   Harry looked confused.  "Then who shows up during the day?"

   "Er - the police?"

   "That's a bit...  odd, don't you think?"

   Harley moved over to her drawer, where Harry remembered her dedicated
outfits to be.  "I've stopped trying to make sense of this city a long time
ago.  Makes things easier.  So, where to?"

   "Actually..."

   Pamela raised an eyebrow at his mischievous grin.  "Last time you looked
like that, you showed us the Warlock." She began to smile.  "What do you
have planned?"

   "Any idea where Eddie might be?"

   "He told me - in a riddle.  Why?"

   -----------------------

   "And we're live in five, four, three, two - "

   A short pause.  "This is Vicki Vale from GCTV News, reporting live from
the scene of Gotham's latest chaotic rampage.  Until now, we haven't been
able to give you any close-up footage of the crime scene since the now
infamous bird's eye view of this very spot - The spot where a new criminal
mastermind infiltrated the city of Gotham working with Poison Ivy and
Harley Quinn - there isn't much information we can gather, but for now, he
is known simply as the Warlock."

   She brushed her shoulder-length hair back, looking perturbed as she
glanced behind her.  "No information has been released to the public as of
yet.  The police are struggling to find answers to the mysterious
appearance and disappearance of the new threat.  Behind me, you can see the
taped off scene, including the police cars inside the tape.  Those cars
were the ones destroyed beyond repair in what appeared to be a shockwave
caused by a clap of the Warlock's hands.  There is no trace of gunpowder or
radiation, so we don't have any other choice to believe that there was no
other - "

   "It was an earthquake," Harvey grunted, walking past them towards the
scene.  "Nothin' to see here, people."

   "Really, Bullock?" She put her free hand on her hip, not amused.  "Do
you really expect the people to believe that?"

   "I don't expect you to believe anything!  Get that camera outta here!"

   "So I'm guessing you're not willing to answer a few questions for us?"
She looked towards the camera.  "Detective Bullock, in his ever-reaching
wisdom, does not believe in freedom of speech."

   "I believe in free speech," he snarled.  "You just need ta' shut up when
you do it!"

   She huffed into the mic.  "As it appears we won't be getting any
information from Gotham's finest, especially while he's busy with his
donuts - "

   Bullock scowled and held the bag of confectionary treats to himself,
stalking off to the team.

   " - we will now take it back to the court house, where the newly elected
District Attorney Dent will address this matter.  Hopefully he will have
more answers on who - or what - we are dealing with, and if he doesn't, we
will certainly find something for you, the viewers."

   "We're clear."

   She flicked off the microphone and pocketed her weapon of choice. 
Glancing around, she noticed the sheer...  inactivity of the policemen
involved, and sighed heavily to herself.  "We're all screwed."

   "Maybe," the cameraman agreed, rubbing his shoulder, "but I don't think
that's the info the people want."

   "They could use a dose of reality," she grumbled.  "Is it me, or is the
fact that an insane woman threatening to essentially eliminate mankind
until the plants are left is the one is starting to make sense?"

   Before the cameraman could respond, he winced in pain.  "Ah!  Damn
thing!" He removed the offending equipment from his ear and eyed the small
earpiece with disdain.  "I think the whole damn radio's broken again. 
These are new."

   She rolled her eyes.  "I told them to get this fixed.  We can't continue
if you don't know when to turn on the camera."

   "We still got yours," he reminded her.  "I'll call them and tell them to
give you the signal instead."

   She looked displeased, but couldn't really argue to his point.  She
pulled her radio from her jean pocket, what the earpiece would have been
plugged to, had she not gotten rid of them months ago, and turned it on. 
"I'll do it myself.  Got a spare?"

   He checked his carry-on bag and pulled out a spare wrapped cord. 
"Hopefully, this won't pop in your ear."

   "And you wonder why I don't use them," she grumbled, but gratefully took
the offered buds.  "Live stories don't need breaks.  Why do you have
breaks?"

   "Everyone loves the new DA," he muttered, picking back up his camera. 
"That's when our ratings are at the highest.  Nothing but..." he trailed
off as he realized who was talking to.

   "Hopeless housewives and teenage girls who need a strong man to tell
them everything is okay?" She fluttered her eyelashes.

   He laughed heartily.  "Something like that!"

   "Then fuck that," she scowled.  "Pretty boy can't arrest anyone without
any evidence, or hell, even proof of existence!  Let's look deeper. 
There's got to be something here, and I'm going to find it."

   "/Well, you did make that promise./"

   She furrowed her brows, her fingers pressing into the hearing device
embedding in her ear.  She tried to recognize the voice.  "Hello?  Can you
hear me?"

   "/Yes, yes I can."/

   She narrowed her eyes.  "How?  There's no mic on this thing."

   "/Magic."/

   She glanced around subtly, ignoring her co-worker as her keen eyes
scouted the area.  "Warlock?  Or some wannabe?"

   "You fuckin' serious?" her co-worker muttered in surprise, but she waved
him off, waiting to hear his response.

   "/Either way, I don't think you want to find out the answer to that."/

   "I'm an investigative journalist; of /course/ I want to know." She
shifted on her feet, and glanced back to the police, who were all sitting
on the hoods of the decimated cars and sharing Bullock's donuts on their
lunch break.

   "/Don't bother, honey,"/ a different voice soothed in her ear,
unabashedly female.  /"The ones doing any work are either at the station or
elsewhere, actually looking for us."/

   She was familiar with that voice, through the echoes of Gotham as she
threatened the livelihood of men everywhere.  "/Pamela?/"

   /"You read my file."/ She sounded surprised.

   "Journalist."

   /"And a good one at that.  If I recall correctly, you were the one that
actually broke the news of the Mayor's wife going missing, and found his
mistress."/

   She walked off from the scene, running her fingers through her blond
hair as she steadily collected herself, conversing with one of the most
dangerous women in the world.  "She was a friend, and I thought he had
killed her.  That was a technicality.  Wait - how do you know about that?"

   /"About her being kidnapped?  Well, it was on the news - you reported it
after all."/

   "No," she shook her head, a part of her knowing that someone was looking
at her, "why do you bring up that specific case?  Did...  did you kidnap
her?"

   /"Clever girl."/

   "What did you do to her?"

   /"More like what she threatened to do to us.  She wanted my dear
Harley's number.  Poor girl had nightmares for weeks."/

   She frowned.  She wasn't sure what to believe, but she knew she was
getting some kind of truth.  As she talked to her friend about the case,
there were so many inconsistencies in the descriptions and the chain of
events that she had to let the story go, not wanting to put her friend in a
bad light.  She swore up and down that she couldn't tell her what really
happened, but that it was nothing dangerous or harmful.

   Vicki could only guess that it was something as simple as a getaway or
an affair, as there were no bruises anywhere except for rope burns on her
wrists.  She had to make up a story herself, to cover the mayor's wife, and
in the end, got a promotion from the story with the description and events
that she 'acquired', along with breaking the story to begin with.

   And by the way Isley talked, she had no doubt that she knew the entire
story was false.  "Alright," she muttered.  "Is this blackmail?  I'm
honored."

   There was a chuckle on the other line.  /"No.  This is an opportunity.
You promised those people some more information.  And lucky you; you get to
follow up."/

   "You praise me for my journalism, and spoonfeed me?"

   /"No - I'm rewarding you.  You could be useful to our cause.  We need a
mouthpiece."/

   "At least you're not sugarcoating it." She leaned against the news van.
"What's the message?"

   /"Our message,"/ another familiar voice chimed in, in her damn near
trademarked accent, /"is a simple one.  We'll relay it to ya when you're
live."/

   "And I don't get the privilege of knowing what I'm going to say?"

   /"The resources you get now aren't much,"/ the male voice sounded again.
/"If you're fired tomorrow, you'll only bat an eye at the easy access to
tech equipment.  But in two minutes, you're going to be the face of this
crisis.  You'll be a household name.  We plan on making the headlines a lot
in the following weeks, and you have direct access to it before it even
happens."/

   "What does that mean?" She bit her lip.  "Like an attack?  I won't be
used for that."

   /"We don't need to announce an attack.  We just do it.  No, we want to
give Gotham a chance, first.  A fair chance."/

   /"More of a chance than they deserve,"/ The voice of Harley Quinn
continued.  /"Still, we'ah nice people.  Eliminating mankind 'til the
plants are left is an option 'B'."/

   She was very aware that Quinn was using her own, mostly sarcastic words,
against her.  "Why relay the message through me?  Why not Ryder, or anyone
else?"

   /"Because you're one of tha good ones."/

   She was confused by that statement.  "What, Jack's crooked?"

   /"No.  But he's not here, either.  He's snug in tha studio, waitin' for
tha story ta fall on his lap.  You're willin' ta' get the scoop no matter
what.  The fact that you can see this city's flaws is a nice bonus."/

   "I'm sure," she sighed.  She had accepted a long time ago that her big
mouth was going to get her into trouble, but this was a long reach.  "How
long until I go live?"

   /"According to your boss - one minute."/ The Warlock made a humming
sound.  /"Don't expect the feed to be cut off.  They'll be experiencing
technical difficulties.  How many Towers are in this city?"/

   "Eight," she replied instinctually.  The massive towers were a gift from
Roman Sionis to counteract Satellite Television failure, which was,
incidentally, also provided by Sionis.

   /"Good.  Just making sure they've all been marked on the map."/

   She breathed a deep sigh, before kicking off of her van, as she had done
many times before, and a part of her knew that it would be her last.

   She rested her hand on the free shoulder of the still befuddled
cameraman in front of her.  "It's been great working with you, Jerry."

   He looked flustered, but still confused at her smile.  "Ms.  Vale?"

   "I just got an offer I couldn't refuse.  Might work out, might not.  But
I probably won't be standing in front of this camera for a while after
this. If you want to back out now, then this is your chance."

   "Was that really the Warlock that contacted you?"

   She nodded solemnly.

   "Are you being forced to do this?"

   She shook her head.  "Maybe I'd feel better about myself if I was."

   "Paid?"

   She flushed.  "I probably should've asked about that."

   He chuckled and adjusted the heavy camera on his shoulder.  "Talk
business with him after.  If not, I'm sure my dad will give you a job in
reporting.  The Gazette could use a new face."

   "I'm sure they're doing well enough with Lane's," she rolled her eyes.
"Still, you don't need this in your record.  Intern or not, the things I
might say on camera could lead to a scandal."

   "Then I better get your good side.  DVR isn't kind to the prettiest of
women."

   She chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.  "Good man.  We're on in
fifteen seconds.  Don't get pissed at me when you find yourself deported
back to Metropolis." She backed into her marked spot.

   "That's the best thing about being a Cameraman, Ms.  Vale." He focused
the screen and uncovered the lens.  "Nobody cares."

   "Please," she smiled, clicking on her microphone.  "Call me Vicki."

   -----------------------

   *~An Hour Ago~*

   "Man."

   Edward blinked.  "Excuse me?"

   Harry pointed to the thin wooden instrument the man leaned on.  "That's
a cane.  The concept of it has existed for centuries.  It's always been a
cane.  It's been reinvented, re-circulated in different shapes, forms, and
such, but it's always meant to act the same - to prop you up.  It's a cane,
and it always has been.  Mankind did that.  Same for the chairs we sit in,
the clothes we wear, and the instruments we use.  Obviously, the objects
can't do them on their own.  They don't try to be anything different. 
Humans do it for them.  It's human.  They try to change, and adapt, but
they will always be...  human."

   He pouted.  "Lucky guess."

   Harry didn't expect him to believe the story of a stone eagle testing
him on a near daily basis, never allowing him to just pass through to
converse with the 'Claws, so he didn't bother telling him.  "Either way, it
was right.  Please activate the towers."

   He let out a sigh.  "Black Mask won't like this."

   "No, he won't.  Just make sure to emit the only signal in Gotham when we
give you the signal, in an hour.  We'll hide you after."

   The man tipped his bowler hat and raised an eyebrow at Ivy.  "Where did
you get him?"

   She smirked.  "Wouldn't you like to know the answer to that?"

   -----------------------

   The camera clicked rapidly as she leaned against the building, hidden in
the alleyway.  She grinned, proud of herself.  None of the police, or the
small news team, could see her.  She figured she shouldn't push her luck
too much, so the bespectacled redhead didn't have a choice but to do it at
a distance.

   She sighed to herself.  She wouldn't be having this problem if her
father would just give her access to the evidence.  Any information about
this case in particular was coming in dangerously slow, and the GPD
building had been locked down, so she couldn't access it directly.  She was
getting fed up of all of it, and considered the possibility of hacking into
the database herself.  They were using her firewall - something they
/should/ have been grateful for.

   She sighed, refocusing on her task and clicked away again.  When she saw
the cameraman remove the lens of his own expensive equipment, she knew when
to get out of there, not wanting to be captured on the news, plain as day.

   "I don't think you're supposed to be here."

   Barbara jumped, and her camera crashed on the cobblestone steps.  She
turned around.  "Oh God, it's you!"

   He waited a second, wondering if she was going to scream.  She had a mix
between awe and terror as she eyed him slowly.  "So you've heard of me."

   The teen stumbled backwards.  "Crap!" Her hands felt behind her, looking
for anything she could use.

   Harry took a hold of the camera that she had dropped and inspected it
closely.  "Seems simple enough," he muttered to himself, before the lens
zoomed out.  "There.  Good as new." He tossed it to her.

   On instinct, she caught it, confused.  "W-what - ?"

   "You won't find much of anything here, but..." he pondered to himself
for a moment.  "I'll tell you what.  Take a picture of me."

   She was stunned at his words as he shook his hair out, and dusted off
the imaginary grime on his black pants.  She noted with surprise that he
was far younger than she would have guessed - maybe around her age.  "Why
are you doing this?"

   "I haven't done anything yet," he looked unconcerned, "but I won't lie.
I will be."

   She frowned.  A villain worried about lying?  Just who was he?  "What
are they paying you?  To do this for them?"

   It took a second for him to realize she was referring to Harley and Ivy.
He snorted.  "Wouldn't you like to know?  There are far richer people in
Gotham that could use my services, but unfortunately for them, they won't
be around much longer.  Things need to change, and as you well know, the
Justice system can't stop me."

   "What do you have planned?"

   He nodded his head over to the News Reporter, and she, smartly, didn't
turn away to see where he was looking.  "You'll have to wait for the news,
like everyone else." She flinched as he pulled out a small device and spoke
into it.  "Kill the towers."

   She gave a frightful whimper, not fully understanding the meaning of his
words, and he seemed to read her mind.  "Not any skyscrapers," he said
tersely.  "Radio Towers.  I'm not stupid - there is a such thing as too
much attention in too little time."

   Barbara eyed him carefully, and took a moment to recognize that he had a
brain to go with his...  power.

   She didn't like it.

   "Considering we're going live in seconds," he told her, "I think we
should skip the interview, and go straight for the photo shoot.  I prefer
headshots."

   She glared at him, slowly rising from her seated position, and threw the
camera to the ground at his feet.

   His eyes only followed the camera as it stopped twisting and rolling on
the ground.  "Clumsy," he muttered, and before she could blink, the camera
smashed under his boot.  She gasped at the sight - the camera itself was
not very durable, but it shouldn't have been possible to crush into pieces
with a single stomp.

   "I hope your dad isn't too mad with the equipment failure," he shrugged,
kicking the scraps to the side.

   "He's going to catch you," she spoke with confidence.

   "I'm talking to his daughter, and he has no idea," he clarified the
situation for her.  "Don't take it the wrong way when I say that I'm taking
the threat lightly."

   "I wasn't referring to my dad."

   "At least we're both not giving him the vote of confidence," he
concluded with a nod, which only seemed to incense her further.  "I'll
cross that bridge when I get to it." He nodded, and stepped back into the
shadows of the alleyway.  A bright flash ruined her intense stare, and she
blinked away the lights in her eyes.  She quickly looked back, and as she
suspected, he was gone.

   "/This is Vicki Vale live, with some new information regarding last
night's events."/ Barbara quickly remembered where she was, and ran to the
alley wall to avoid getting on the camera.  She looked at her broken,
smashed-to-bits camera with a grimace - a camera she had 'borrowed' from
the GPD.  It would take a long time for her to fix it, and it looked like
quite a few expensive replacement parts were necessary.

   As carefully as she could, she scooped up the pieces and poured them
into her hoodie pockets.  With a last glance around, she pulled her hood
over her head and walked out of the alley, her head down, on her way back
to the house.

   Or, at least she would have.

   Until she heard the actual words Miss Vale was saying.

   -----------------------

   "Alright, /Vicki/," he grinned, "We're on in five, four, three, two - "

   She took a deep, steadying breath.  "This is Vicki Vale live, with some
new information regarding last night's events." On cue, her earpiece buzzed
to life, and Poison Ivy relayed to her what she had to relay to Gotham. 
"Right here, in the intersection of the Jezebel Plaza, two known assailants
and one unknown were seen wandering about the stores.  Their descriptions
are mostly unconfirmed, as this was a rare public sighting for them, but we
are the first to capture them on camera." She could only guess that
homemade pictures were actually appearing on their feed on television
screens around Gotham.  "The Femme Fatale is known as one of the most
elusive teams in Gotham.  Pamela Isley, known as Poison Ivy, aged
twenty-seven, surfaced alone as a legitimate threat three years ago, and is
the only reported case in Gotham to be legally claimed as a living,
breathing, walking Biological Weapon.  Her mental powers of Nature itself
has been demonstrated extensively in the past three years, and some
buildings are still covered in moss as a reminder of the devastation she
could bring to our city, were it not for the good police of Gotham and the
caped crusader himself, who this reporter has, maybe too conveniently,
named the Batman."

   She didn't know it at this point, but in every home in Gotham, people
gasped as they saw the first ever clear, close shot of the legendary Dark
Knight in mid-flight.  So much detail was in the picture that some might
suspect if he posed for it himself.  Still, everyone who had glanced at the
story in passing were now glued to the television.  "Her vines were known
to destroy streets and cars, and the superhuman strength, combined with
thorns, and the occasionally mind-controlled police officer, cemented her
as one of the most dangerous forces Gotham has ever seen." She licked her
lips.  She could say, with all honesty, that she wasn't over-dramatizing
that statement in the slightest.

   "Poison Ivy disappeared shortly after she broke out of Blackgate Prison,
and resurfaced with a partner just as deadly as herself.  Harley Quinn,
aged twenty two, appeared out of nowhere, but has proven to herself to be a
natural when it comes to crime.  Her favorite weapons of choice are her
trusty mallet and a bazooka, but she has proven herself to be very adept at
any weapon she comes across.  She is a very capable fighter, and, in her
past life, was very likely an accomplished gymnast before she turned to a
life of crime."

   She blinked rapidly.  Even she wasn't able to discern this information
from past cases.  They were revealing all of these details on purpose. 
"The two are rarely seen, and this photo, discovered recently, is the only
recorded clear shot of them." She wisely paused, allowing the audience to
take in an extended, clear look at the couple.  "Their rampage is unmatched
by many, and the times that they are out and about, they almost always
prove to Gotham the many flaws that this city has, whether they
successfully destroy the bridge that leads to Metropolis, or steal valuable
items from Gotham's most protected museums with far too effective
smash-and-grab operations."

   As per the instruction, she looked behind her, and pointed to the crime
scene, and gave the camera a moment to focus not only on the decimated
cars, but the policemen still on lunch break.  When Jerry gave her the
thumbs up, she continued.  "Until now, there has never been a clear message
for their acts.  They all seemed to make some kind of statement, alluding
to their power, or pointing out the flaws in our justice system.  Until
now. Viewers at home, you may remember that last night, we were only able
to get a glimpse provided by the GCTV News Channel 7 Copter.  Now, Ladies
and gentlemen, new footage has surfaced of the incident.  Courtesy of the
dashcam of the police car closest to The Femme Fatale and Warlock, and the
listening device of one of the officers at the scene, I present to you the
unedited footage of what happened last night, complete with sound."

   /"You're offline right now."/ Ivy informed her over the bud.  She made
the motion to Jerry to cut the broadcast and breathed a sigh of relief. 
/"Don't get too relaxed.  The video is playing now, and it's about three
minutes."/

   "Just three minutes?"

   /"It's amazing how much of an impact someone can make in three
minutes."/

   She was silent for a moment.  "Any chance I could watch it?"

   /"Oh, you'll get plenty of time to see the video,"/ she teased.  /"It's
playing on every channel Gotham can broadcast right now.  All of the Towers
have been redirected to that camera's video stream.  You can thank the
Riddler for that.  You can also thank him for blocking the signal from all
of the officers behind you, or they would have gotten the call that
evidence had been taken directly from their crime scene.  It will be about
ten minutes before outside officers can get to you, though.  We'll have you
out of there in no time."/

   She bit her lip.  "So I'll be a fugitive.  I'll get a prison sentence."

   /"Or a Pulitzer."/

   "I don't see that happening anytime soon."

   /"I don't see you getting arrested anytime soon.  Just one more part,
and then go into the alley behind you, at your four o' clock.  Your friend
will be delivered back to Metropolis."/

   "And me?"

   /"Well, you were talking about pay earlier.  How would you like an even
better arrangement?"/ She paused for a moment.  /"Think about it.  Now, let
me give you the rundown of what to say next...."/

   -----------------------

   "Hmmm."

   "What?"

   The man in green raised his necklace, which showed a blinking question
mark pendant.  "Apparently, someone's breaking into my lair."

   Harley sighed exasperatedly.  "I'll handle it."

   "Hold on." Harry frowned.  "Wasn't expecting him to be out around this
time.  He should have been at home watching TV." He looked over to Riddler,
and his eyes looked particularly haunting over the green glow from the
monitors around him.  "I suppose you have a lot of monitors in your lair?"

   Edward nodded wordlessly.

   "And you can control them remotely?"

   He shook his head.  "They're connected to the towers.  If he bothered to
look at the monitors, he's seeing the same thing everyone else is seeing."

   Harry smiled.  "Good.  He won't be in your lair for long, but I suggest
checking for any devices."

   Riddler grimaced.  "He wouldn't dare; not around me."

   "He had to have caught you once, right?"

   He turned to Ivy, his face sullen.  "I don't like him."

   She momentarily turned off the connection to Vicki and shrugged.  "Not
my problem.  You want a place in the future, you work with us.  Feelings
have nothing to do with respect and trust."

   His lips quirked.  "I suppose." He winced when Juliet purred, just feet
away from him, under the ministrations of Harley.  "Fear helps."

   She winked at her precious cat.  "Goddamn right it does."

   "Behave," she said absentmindedly, before pressing the button on her
headset.  "Fifteen seconds."

   -----------------------

   "As you have just seen, the events that played out last night were, in a
way, frightening.  He clapped his hands, and as Detective Bullock
brilliantly pointed out, it was a powerful earthquake, albeit short.  A
shockwave cracked the ground below them, and while Ivy and Harley didn't
even flinch, the police cars' windows shattered and tires were blown, and
several officers had to be rushed to the emergency room.  Fortunately,
there were no casualties." She paused for dramatic effect.  "This time.  As
you could see, and by the many cameras facing them all at the time, there
is no conceivable way to discern how all three of them managed to disappear
in front of them.  Due to the convenient surge of all lights in the
surrounding area, including our chopper a hundred feet above them, their
actual disappearing act is still a mystery until we can lighten up the
image.  However, considering the surrounding officers and SWAT team, the
hovering helicopter, and the evidence that they had managed to leave that
spot in less than a second and leave no trace of ever being there, other
than the destruction they caused, leads me to ask this question."

   She took a breath.  "Who in the hell is the Warlock?  What does he want?
And what will he, and the young women beside him, be willing to do to get
it?"

   She smiled into the camera.  "This is Vicki Vale, with GCTV News Channel
Seven.  I hope I've enlightened you and informed you.  If you haven't
gotten the message yet, then I will sufficiently give you that time.  For
the next twenty-four hours, this broadcast will be played in its entirety.
I urge all of the viewers at home to really consider what is at stake here.

   "We here at GCTV News believe in second chances.  And we are all hoping
that Warlock and Femme Fatale are willing to forgive Gotham, for our past
mistakes.  We can all only pray that he believes in second chances as well.
Have a nice afternoon."

   She tapped her foot once, and that was the cue for Jerry to cut the
feed. "I think that went well."

   Sirens sounded in the distance.  "Maybe too well."

   Jerry looked towards the alleyway that Vicki had told him about, and his
eyes widened.  "Holy shit."

   She looked around to his eyesight, and gulped as she recognized a large
black panther staring at them patiently.  After holding eye contact for
mere seconds, the large jungle beast turned away and padded slowly back
into the alleyway.

   Vicki knew that it wanted them to follow, and, oddly enough, felt calm
about the thought.  She felt herself walking forward, and heard Jerry step
in line with her soon after, gently placing the large, heavy camera on the
ground.

   Her eyes met Harvey's as she turned her head once more to look at the
scene, and he had a smug grin of satisfaction on his face as he winked at
her.

   She gave a grin of her own, and winked back, before dropping her mic on
the ground next to her, never losing her stride.

   Vicki Vale didn't need money - she didn't even plan to make a career out
of journalism, but she was glad to get recognition for her hobby - but she,
more than ever, hoped that the Warlock could really perform magic, just so
she ask him if she could see the look on Bullock's face the exact moment he
found out what happened during his extended lunch break.

   She ripped the bud out of her ear as she stepped into the alleyway. 
"Wouldn't want to get shocked again."

   "I'd hope not." His voice was light, and friendly.  "I blew the first
bud out.  Sorry about that, Jerry."

   Her former cameraman rubbed the back of his neck.  "What the hell can I
say to that?  'Don't do it again?'

   He chuckled, and stepped forward, and brilliant green eyes pierced into
her shining blue.

   She made the connection instantly.  "You were that panther."

   "I was." He held out an obscenely thick roll of bills.  "In twenty
seconds, this will take you back to your apartment room, in Metropolis."

   He only seemed to consider it for a second, before tipping his invisible
hat to Vicki, and gratefully accepted the roll.  "Hope they pay this much
in Keystone," he chuckled.  "Hope it turns out well, Vicki."

   She smiled fondly and reached out to shake his hand.  "If I'm ever
looking for another intern..."

   He shook his head.  "Dad doesn't like me dabbling too much in the
competition.  Spend too much time in Gotham, he'll think I betrayed him."

   She snorted.  All the horror stories she had heard about Barry were
apparently true.  "Good luck, Jerry."

   "Try to avoid prison, Miss Vale." He quipped before a color beam of
light flashed, and all that remained was the mysterious man, patiently
waiting.  He held out his hand.

   "What?" She asked, amused.  "No money?"

   "Did you think about our offer?"

   Wordlessly, she reached out and shook his hand.

   "I find it rather intimidating to see how many of you are willing to
break the rules to see a different future."

   "A good story is a good story."

   "That would be a massively stupid reason if that were the entire truth."

   "Then I guess we've both got stories to tell."

   "Take a deep breath," he muttered, "and hold tight.  I've been told the
next part isn't pleasant."

   "By who?"

   "The Cat Burglar."

   As they popped away, Vicki couldn't help but think that she made the
right choice.

   Or a very, very terrible one.  Still, she wasn't the most daring
journalist in Gotham for nothing.

   Suck it, Lane.



   -------------------------------------------------

   Chapter 10: Fate

   "Oh yeah," Harvey bragged, leaning back against the hood of the car, the
last doughnut in hand.  "She wants it."

   His partner snorted.  "Yeah, sure."

   "She just winked at me," he whined, his eyes narrowing.  "I can't
believe you all missed that."

   Detective Flass rolled his eyes, dusting his hands of the yellow dust on
his car.  "Sure Harvey.  We all, at the same time, missed her winking at
you, while we were staring at her ass the entire time she was over there.
I'm so /sorry/ we missed it."

   DeCarlo snickered.  "I think you had too many doughnuts."

   Bullock looked him in the eye when he took a large bite of the glazed
baked good.

   "Get ready, guys," Flass warned everyone.  "In a couple of minutes,
we're gonna be really sorry that we just missed him getting a blowjob!"

   The team laughed, and Harvey blinked at the sight before him.  "Fuck. 
I've had too many doughnuts."

   Arnold Flass laughed harder.  "Hopes she gets to the base!"

   "/I imagine that wouldn't be too difficult."/

   The laughter stopped.  The echo hung through the air, similar to the one
Warlock held before.  The rest finally realized where Harvey was looking,
and their eyes instinctively followed and turned towards the News van.

   Despite her green skin, it was always her hair that attracted everyone
first.  Her long red tresses shimmered in the daylight, frequently in
motion even as the air kept still around her.  Her skin in itself, usually
pale and human-like in texture, was almost glowing with radiance, pulsing
in random places on her body as it absorbed the rays of the sun.  Her eyes,
however, caught all of their attention.

   Poison Ivy's burning eyes gleamed with carnivorous glee at their
squirming, and she sauntered forward.

   "You boys liked the doughnuts?  I imagine they were good.  I hope you
saved one.  I'm /starving/."

   Their throats tightened.  Flass noticed first that he couldn't reach for
his gun, or really move much at all.  His hands shook violently, and he
suddenly felt cold.

   Her shiny black lips gave a mischievous grin.  "Do you think you've had
too many?  You don't really know when you've had enough until it settles.
Bread tends to expand."

   "Frosting is no slouch, eithah." They couldn't move their heads, but
they heard a gentle tap on the hood of the patrol car behind them.  "That
outta really slow ya down.  I never trusted artificial sugah."

   "You shouldn't." Her green irises flashed with playfulness.  "Nor would
I trust the cars you're sitting on.  It's a bit too late in the year for
pollen, isn't it?"

   Bullock's hands trembled against the dusty patrol vehicle, and only his
eyes could express his pain when a well-placed boot smashed his digits into
the hood.

   A gloved hand tickled the side of his neck, and lightly squeezed his
chin from behind.  "Cat got your tongue?  Or are you just petrified in the
presence of beauty?"

   The jester leaped off the car and landed in front of them, the TV News
camera on her small shoulder seeming like a light prop in her hands.  She
steadied the camera onto Bullock.  "Nah.  I think he just pissed himself."

   He could feel the edge of the gloves break his skin as her claws gripped
tighter.  "That could be arranged."

   "We need him in control of his bodily functions - for now," Ivy warned.
"He'll have plenty of chances to soil himself, but not anywhere near me."

   The woman behind him sighed.  "Fine." She pressed her boot to the middle
of his back, and violently pushed forward, with a force on his wide frame
that he didn't think she, or anyone else, had.

   He forced his legs to move, and he was only able to lumber a few feet
before he fell forward into Ivy's waiting grasp.

   She gripped his light overcoat tight for a moment, glaring at him
through half-lidded eyes, before her lips curled into a cold, callous grin.

   "Oh, yes - we could /use/ you."

   She pushed him back, and he felt a cold, metallic coil around his neck.
He wheezed - it was the only thing he could do - before he passed out,
standing there, frozen.

   Catwoman laughed, keeping him embraced in her cold whip before she took
a deep breath, and they both vanished.

   The rest could only stare in shock; not that they had any choice in the
matter.  They found that they had just enough mobility to gulp nervously.

   "One," Harley muttered.  She turned the camera to the redhead, her green
and red hair swishing about her shoulders.  "Need any more?"

   She shrugged.  "Warlock promised he only needed one.  Just one, and he
would know all of Gotham's secrets." She paused, and eyed her girlfriend
strangely.  "Is that camera really recording anything?"

   "Nah.  What's-his-face left it heyah.  I picked up Vicki's mic, too, if
you want it.  The signal's blocked, compliments of Eddie, and there's no
tape.  Could be useful in the future, though."

   Ivy wasn't sure where Harley's mind was when she said that, but the
teasing smile gave her an accurate guess.  "Hope you're not camera-shy."

   "Oh, you know how much I like to put on a show." She turned her head
away from the eyepiece and glanced back to the six officers there. 
"Whaddya say, boys?  Ready to get this party started?  It sounds like your
friends are almost here!"

   -----------------------

   Harry knew something was wrong the moment he apparrated onto the scene.

   The Riddler's lair - what he supposed looked like an abandoned warehouse
with a very sizeable basement for underground work - had a missing door.

   The raven-haired teen could only guess that Edward would have had the
common sense to at least give the option for a potential enemy to knock, so
he could safely assume that something was amiss.  His eyes swept the
building, and his lips curled in a frown.

   "It's not just Batman in there," he warned his partner.

   "Good," Catwoman purred beside him.  "I need to blow off some steam,
anyway."

   "Sorry for that."

   "Just stay out of my way, and you'll be forgiven." She stretched out her
arms as she stepped forward confidently into the shack.  "Roomie."

   Harry removed his cloak from his black cargo slacks and wrapped it
around his shoulders.  With a dip of his head, he was gone from the face of
the earth.

   He gave a grim smile.  Oh, whoever was in there /wished/ that would
happen.

   With a thought, black gauze wrapped tightly around his hands, the wiry
mesh thinly separating from his skin, giving his hands an armor that he
could barely feel.  The wrapping moved across his body, covering every inch
of his skin below his red and black uniform, the hint of it showing through
the green claw marks adorned on his torso and legs.

   He really, truly felt naked in this uniform, for good reason - the wire
surrounding his body, only a millimeter thin for each layer, was always
separated from his body by /micrometers/.  The hairs on his body brushed
against the material, and it gave him a tingle that always kept him alert.

   It was a cheaper and a more flexible defense compared to Basilisk skin,
as he had discovered the hard way.  The thin wires could be enhanced and
separated, and could cut through trees whole.

   A fact that he wouldn't be telling Pamela anytime soon.

   He squeezed his hands, testing out the armor; he hadn't used it since
battling Voldemort himself, and he was rather worried that he might not be
able to use it, due to the constant magic he had to pour into the suit.  It
subconsciously fed off of him, and he didn't want this suit freezing on
him. The results would be rather disastrous.  Hermione didn't approve of
it, but he needed it.

   He needed to make another good impression.  At this point, his character
called for it.  The Warlock liked to show off.

   With nary a whisper, he blew into the building, and Catwoman didn't even
notice him breezing past her, inches away from her leather-clad form. 
Skipping over the fallen door (mystery solved), he made his way to the
basement.

   -----------------------

   "/Who in the hell is the Warlock?  What does he want?  And what will he
- "/

   A bullet between the eyes prevented her from asking any further
questions.

   Or, at least, that's what he would have done; what he wished would have
happened to Vale.  But for now, he had to settle with unloading his gun
into a television screen.

   Four shots in, he held his fire, willing to wait until Riddler got back.

   "He had /one/ job," he grimaced, straightening his blue tie.  "One
simple goddamn job."

   The crew was silent.  He didn't expect them to respond, lest they wanted
to feel his wrath.

   The wooden mask was impassive as ever, as anyone would expect it to be.
But shooting repeatedly at a television would give anyone a different
impression.  However, the only impression he wanted, at the moment, was a
very deep one in Edward's far-too-smug face.

   /"Can I help you?"/

   His men jumped at the voice, and carefully looked around, but he didn't
bother looking for the voice - it sounded like it was coming from
everywhere at once.  What he did know, and truly cared about, was that it
wasn't Edward's.  "Yeah.  Bring me Poindexter."

   /"May I ask why?"/

   "Business."

   /"Oh."/ The silence echoes the admittedly large shack for a moment -
nothing but the whirring of mechanical fixtures and the static of radios,
until he spoke again.  /"No."/

   "No?" He chuckled deeply.  "And can I ask why?"

   /"Business."/

   "Good.  So you're the punk I'm looking for." He nodded to his henchmen.
"Strip the room."

   /"It's bold of you to assume that I'm in the room."/

   "My guys checked the room for bugs.  All recording devices are as dead
as you're gonna be."

   The voice scoffed.  /"I imagine you would feel the need to check again.
You obviously missed something the first time."/

   Roman growled.  "/What?/"

   /"Look up."/

   His Beretta gleamed as he pointed it directly above him, and he was only
able to see a blur of a shadow before a sharp pain struck his wrist.

   The gun slid away harmlessly on the floor, further away from him; but
the batarang rested at his feet, staring up at him reproachfully.

   Black Mask let out an angry howl.  "/Kill/ that sonovabitch!"

   -----------------------

   Harley gently sat the camera down behind the patrol car and picked up
her weapon of choice.  She hoisted her weapon on her shoulder and waited.
"Come to mama..."

   The green-skinned teen's eyes glowed, and the leaves of her skirt blew
back and forth as the wind around her gathered.  "Let's make this quick."

   The sirens got louder and louder, but they had dealt with them enough to
know /exactly/ how close they were.  Cars rushed into the intersection - at
least five - and, thankfully for them, the decimated cars blocked all three
lanes but one of them.

   They were still surrounded, again, and it was a new feeling for them to
be out in the daylight like this, but it felt...  freeing, in a way.  To do
something so daring, out and in the open.

   Ivy just hoped they didn't get shot.  Fidgeting with one foot, then the
other, she kicked off her elfish slippers, leaving her bare feet to touch
the concrete floor.  She wiggled her toes a little, feeling the heat
against her skin (it was odd that extreme temperatures could never affect
her since her transformation, but she could feel the slightest change of
temperature around her) before she narrowed her eyes at the police
wordlessly getting out of their cars and taking out their guns.  "You never
learn."

   Captain Grogan flicked on his bullhorn.  "This is only a formality. 
Step forward with your hands in the - Where's Bullock?"

   "Really?" Harley looked dumfounded, her red eye blinking into the
sights. "You kiddin' me?  We have six of your men hostage ovah heyah, and
you want to know where the /stooge/ is?"

   He cleared his throat.  "We don't make any deals until we see Bullock."

   "We're not in a deal-making mood." Pamela narrowed her eyes moving
slightly over to get a direct vision at the man, blocking Harley from his
sight.  "You probably missed our message on the way over here, but I just
wanted to clarify on a few things."

   He stepped out from behind the door, his jaw set.  "We do it your way
when we fucking feel like it.  Until then, get on the fucking ground and
hope we don't handle you too roughly when we take you back to Blackgate!"

   "That escalated quickly," Harley muttered with a giggle.  "Oi, Captain
Jack!  You forgot ta take your meds today?"

   Grogan growled and lifted his gun.  "I'm sorry I wasn't here last night;
you two are far too much trouble than you're worth." He cocked his head. 
"/Far/ too much."

   "Be that as it may," Ivy continued smoothly, "we feel that if you're not
constantly reminded of our presence, then you'll forget about us.  And then
you'll forget our warning."

   "Honestly," the grizzly man spoke into the megaphone, waving the
policemen to get closer, "I already forgot the warning.  You should
probably put it in writing." He squinted at Harley, who was practically
hidden behind the car.  "You done taking a piss-break, girlie?  That'll be
the last time you'll get in any private time.  Make it count."

   Harley's weapon beeped.  "Oh.  I will."

   Ivy's hands, which were resting tensely against her hips, balled into
fists at the sound of that beep.  She slightly bent her knees, and closed
her eyes.

   The Captain fumbled as he pulled back the hammer of his gun, allowing
himself a grin as he prepared to take down the most violent team in Gotham
- and he would give the order.  "Duck and Cover!  Shoot to kill!"

   "/Yes Sir!/"

   That loud chant confused the officers for less than a second at the
unusual shout of confirmation from the villainesses' side, for the very
earth to tremble beneath their feet.  In that second, the ground cracked
and shifted, and a large mound burst into existence beneath Poison Ivy's
feet.

   She extended her legs, and she gracefully flew into the air in a perfect
summersault, before landing next to a petrified DeCarlo in a crouch.  Her
hands, in fluid motion, waved and /pushed/, and the men on their side were
suddenly thrown towards them, flying not as gracefully into the air, their
petrified bodies launched by the springy coils that spiked from the ground.

   So busy trying to refocus their guns on the elegant beauty, and more
considerate officers attempting to catch the corrupt men, they didn't
notice the sudden exposure of a terrifying visage, lying in wait behind her
lover.

   Harley Quinn, her mouth twisted into a wide smile, rested one elbow on
the hood of the cop car, and extended her middle finger towards the sky,
pointing it at the group of officers in general.

   The other hand pulled the trigger of the candy cane-striped bazooka in
the same direction.

   She quickly turned the weapon to another car, and she pulled it /again/.

   /And again/.

   The ground erupted powerfully before her, and an explosion of green was
all she could really focus on before her girlfriend grabbed her shoulder.
She moved her knee over to touch the camera, and with two taps of her
offending finger, the two felt a pull at their navels.

   She knew that would give them something to remember.

   -----------------------

   "Why am I not surprised to see you here first?" Ivy wondered, dusting
herself off after the two collapsed to the floor, returning from their
trip.

   "Because you don't like surprises," a non-wired Harry gently informed
her, still holding Harley's hand as he pulled them both up.  "How well did
it work?" he asked nervously, looking at the still-smoking instrument of
destruction on the ground.

   A sound kiss from her answered any questions he had.

   Still, after they parted, she answered his question anyway - "Like a
fucking /charm/."

   "And you get on me for my puns," A voice behind them grumbled, and Ivy
and Harley looked back to see Selina lying across a couch they were sure
weren't there before.  Her leg was bare, the leathery garment cut cleanly
from the rest of her full suit, and she was once again unmasked.  "Don't
ask."

   "She was shot," he told them quietly.

   Her ears twitched.  "Damn you." She could provide no further defense -
she looked exhausted, and for good reason.  "So, if you three don't need me
anymore, I think I'll just go to sleep..."

   Harley turned to Harry as the ebony-haired girl drifted off.  "So... 
you also heal gunshot wounds?"

   Harry shook his head.  "Not really.  I have a vial of phoenix tears. 
Doing it myself would take much longer, and we just got here."

   Pamela leaned against Harry's other side.  "It's been a long day.  I'll
get an explanation out of you after my nap."

   Harleen eyed her girlfriend carefully.  "Hey - you alright?"

   "Déjà vu," the redhead muttered, before she shook her head.  "I'm
alright.  That really took a lot out of me.  I've never done so much in so
little time.  I made my babies grow as much as I could with as little time
as possible.  I just hope my penmanship is legible." She smiled weakly at
Harry.  "No headaches or anything."

   Harry wordlessly pressed a hand against her forehead.  "Just making
sure."

   She gently removed his hand and kissed his knuckle.  "When I was out
there, I haven't felt that ...  /challenged/ ...  in a long time.  We
should do that more often." She grinned against his palm, and forced a
tingle through his arm.  "I've never felt more with nature than at that
point.  I feel stronger, now."

   "Ditto," Harley agreed happily.  "Today was fun.  We should do it again,
sometime.  I think we were really productive." She moved to Nigma's empty
chair in front of the monitors, and swiveled the chair to Harry.  "So, what
happened on your end?  Is Batman so afraid of us that he finally started
packing heat?"

   The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head wryly, taking Pamela's hand in his own.
"Well, you know what they say about curious cats..."

   -----------------------

   The first thing Harry noticed when he got downstairs, ignoring the
elevator in favor of the grates, was that the basement was...  deceivingly
large.

   He was aware that it was a warehouse, so he supposed that it probably
should be this big, but a part of him couldn't help but theorize exactly
what was in here that required so much space.

   He shook his head, and carefully jumped onto the steel beam that was in
front of him.  He hung high over the group below, and he noticed the man
dressed in white first.  Black Mask.  Roman Sionis.

   He thought to himself for a moment - what gain did they make from giving
away his identity?  Probably not a lot.  Black Mask had been arrested many
times, and they let him go before they could even remove his mask, thanks
to his lawyers.  Or maybe the police knew who he was, and just looked the
other way?  But if the people knew who he was, then he'd just go to being
the Black Mask full time, after taking all of Roman's immediate assets,
which was probably a considerable amount.

   He shelved the thought - maybe another time.

   Jumping from beam to beam, he spotted the items that Edward had told him
about - the items that he absolutely needed from his base, after
recognizing that Batman might not be the only one looking for him, and that
his life would likely end short if he stepped in the base after tonight.

   If the Batman was here, alone, then he would have a better chance of
retrieving the items.  But now, in a room filled with armed henchmen, and
one pissed off mob boss, he figured that apparating around /really fast/
probably wasn't the best strategy.

   He spied Selina on the floor level, pilfering a few hard drives and any
data that looked important to her.  She moved around like liquid, right
under the guard's noses, and Harry thought it was hilarious.  The warehouse
wasn't well-lit, and she was abusing it well.  He admired her lithe form
squirming in and out of places, sneaking into guards' back pockets and
taking their ammunition.

   When she finally decided to get to the actual items they were here for,
Harry would have some respect for the thief.  Still, at least she was
having fun right now.

   He, on the other hand, was almost positive that Batman was here, at this
very moment, staring holes through both of them.

   He tilted his head, and at first glance, he could see nothing up here
with him.

   And then he looked up - past the ceiling lanterns, in the darkest part
of the room, were a pair of pure white eyes staring straight at him.

   Harry, for a moment, was paralyzed.

   There was a time, he remembered, when he was four, and he got his first
glimpse of the vigilante on the cover of Dudley's comic.  He had considered
his choice of dress amusing - that anyone could be intimidated by the garb
seemed like a joke to him.  Upon reflection, he could even see himself
thinking that it would look perfect on a villain, who desperately tried to
be terrifying, but ultimately failed.

   That was no longer the case.  Now, Harry didn't feel so intimidating in
front of the black-clad hero.

   Rationally, he knew it didn't make sense to worry.  They weren't going
to fight in the ceiling, right above an armed room.  He was simply
observing, as he had done last night.  He clearly wasn't expecting Black
Mask to be here, and was now waiting in the wings for Edward to return so
he could save him and promptly interrogate him.  Batman, for the moment,
was not a threat.

   But looking at him, close-up, he desperately wished that the vigilante
would join their side, or at least, stay out of their business.  He did not
look forward to making a true enemy out of him.

   Well...  maybe he did, just a little bit, look forward to their fight
for dominance over Gotham.  But it didn't hurt to make one last plea.

   He tapped the ceiling beam feverishly, a small light blinking from his
steel fingertips in irregular patterns, being sure not to make too loud a
noise.

   /I see you have ignored my offer./

   For a brief moment, there was nothing.  Then, his buckle began blinking.

   /There was no offer.  I ignored your threat./

   Harry felt an annoyance begin to blink in at the pit of his stomach.  He
was a reasonable guy, he thought, but he rarely met someone this stubborn.
This man was a special breed.

   He tapped again.  /And what was your reply going to be if you had caught
me unprepared?  "Heed my order to stop, or I will beat the holy hell out of
you and send you to prison?/"

   There was a slight pause.  /Not if you surrender quietly./

   Harry contemplated his logic; it wasn't very sound.  Maybe, in his
world, it all made sense.  At some point, Bruce realized that he was more
than an authority figure - he was The Law.

   /You don't control our actions./ He tapped very slowly - deliberately.
/You control no one.  Stop pretending that you can do anything about it./

   He leaped, and dropped gracefully onto the beam to confront him.  "We're
done with this conversation."

   Harry flinched at the quiet tone.  He seemed to have hit a nerve,
especially since he was no longer using Morse code.  His whisper didn't
carry, but Harry damn sure heard it.

   He was ten feet away from him, head-on, and it gave Harry a new
perspective.  The two stared at each other.

   The wiry mesh moved slowly around his head, and the black material
covered a hundred percent of his body.  Sans his clothes, he was shrouded
in darkness.  "Fine, then.  /Can I help you/?"

   Even the caped crusader looked flummoxed as Harry raised his voice
significantly, and it echoed along the walls.

   Out the corner of his eye, he saw Selina steal the last item on their
list before slinking into the corner, out of view.

   "Yeah." The Black Mask's voice boomed from below.  "Bring me
Poindexter."

   -----------------------

   Harry groaned in frustration.  "I don't know which one baited whom.  I
put most of the blame on Batman, while making Black Mask think that I'm on
his side, so I suppose it was better for me.  A stray bullet hit Selina
before I could get to her; nothing too serious.  I cleaned up her blood
before I got to pop out of there.  As far as I know, the gunfight is still
happening."

   "Really?" Harley asked incredulously, her eyes wide.  "So he could be
dead or something right now?"

   "Doubt it.  He's crafty.  He was knocking out the lights as I got to
Selina.  My guess is he's taking them out one by one.  I wouldn't be
surprised if Roman is in prison by tonight."

   "And freed by his lawyers tomorrow," Ivy guessed.  "I always wondered
how he got out of prison so fast."

   Harry tapped his thumb against his chin.  "That won't happen again.  I
need to add protections to Blackgate Prison.  And your home."

   "Our home," she replied with a raised eyebrow.  "You've proven yourself
as a big part of this team, and our family.  Enjoy it."

   Harry smiled weakly.  "I'll try."

   Harleen checked one of the monitors with a timestamp on it.  "We still
got time for that dinner.  I think we've deserved a little break."

   On cue, Harry's stomach grumbled.  He chuckled.  "Not the worst idea
I've heard today."

   "If we really want to see a good movie, we'd see the footage of the cops
and their...  predicament."

   Harley picked up her liberated news camera.  "Ready to make the
headlines?  Again?"

   Harry sighed dramatically.  "Well, if I /have/ to..." He smirked.  "I
think I'll do the report this time.  Vicki's still getting used to all
this."

   "Where is that reporter, anyway?" Harley pouted.  "I always wanted to
meet a celebrity."

   "Right now, she's with Eddie, filtering through the hard drives.  Selina
scared her off - I don't think she forgave her for naming her the 'Cat
Burglar'.  Plus, I suppose she was a little agitated, being shot and
all..."

   "Huh." Ivy pondered to herself.  "We've got a lot of people we need to
hide.  Think they'll all fit under one roof?"

   Harry smiled personably, having the simple answer for the simple
problem. "/Magic/."

   Harleen squealed a little.  "I just get a little jittery every time you
say that!"

   Pamela smiled, watching her girlfriend act her age for a moment.  It was
a rare, truly beautiful, sight.  "What did you have in mind?"

   "Expansion Charms and Protection Wards," he answered immediately,
"especially the latter.  We've got their attention.  Now we just have to
make sure it's only when we want them to.  Hiding your house might be
enough, but I don't take risks when I don't have to." Well, when it was
just him, he was rather dangerous in his aloofness.  The Tournament proved
that.  Still, his girls needed protection.  "I'd have to talk to Hermione
about a few things, first."

   "Sounds good," Ivy admitted.  "If it's really that simple to renovate a
house that Harley and I've been working on for a long time now, then could
you also expand the garden?  We've been meaning to make the place bigger."

   "Of course.  The whole house would be to your liking.  A blueprint might
be helpful."

   Harley spun around in her new favorite chair and handed him the mic. 
"Gotta wait 'til Eddie gets back.  I can't work that computer.  What speech
are you going to give?"

   Harry eyed Pamela with a smirk.  "A Lesson on /Respect/, and why it
should be so important.  I should probably tell them before someone tries
to chop at the vines."

   "Don't want things to get too messy," Ivy grinned back.  "I absolutely
/have/ to know the plant that you based that magic on."

   "/Devilarium Dracinus/," Harry remembered.  "The Devil's Snare.  It may
be a gamble to say that this world hasn't seen it yet, so rename it at your
leisure.  My friend Neville actually grew a strain that makes it more
resistant to light.  My spell only strengthens it." His eyes moved to the
microphone in his hand.  "We should probably go back."

   Both Harley and Ivy scrunched their eyebrows in confusion.  "Because we
didn't hammer the point home enough?" Harley asked jokingly.

   He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  "I just feel like something's missing.
Batman is occupied, and this is as good a time as any to strike.  You said
it yourself, Ivy - they have a /vastly/ short attention span."

   Ivy weighed her options.  "Well - /honestly/ - there isn't much left to
do at this point but to wait for a response.  Until something noteworthy
comes up, we're at an impasse." She looked up.  "Maybe try to recruit
someone else?"

   "Who?" Harley wondered.  "We've got the main players that want anything
to do with us.  The rest don't seem like they're willing to work /with/ us,
yet alone /for/ us."

   Harry snapped his fingers.  "Ivy, you said something about the sewers
last night, and how toxic it was.  Did you have any problems with it just
now?"

   She shook her head.  "I was trying to bring up just enough to trip them
up before.  Now, I used everything I had to make my babies grow and
overpower them.  It was more /sludge/ than toxic."

   "I could use a few spells and clean up the water a bit.  At least around
that immediate area, to make sure it doesn't miss with the...  er... 
sculpture."

   Harleen bit her lip.  "Now that I think about it, I don't think the
sludge is going to be the main problem.  But the last time I checked, Croc
is still in Blackgate.  Don't think he'll appreciate us renovating his
home."

   Harry blinked.  "Anyone else in Blackgate?"

   The three looked at each other.

   "I can't believe we didn't think of that before," Ivy admitted.  "A mass
breakout would cause the panic we need."

   "It doesn't have to be mass," Harry countered.  "Just some people we
could recruit.  Henchmen?"

   Ivy let out a sniff of disdain.  "Let's try that again."

   The side of Harry's mouth quirked upwards.  "Not all of us guys are
bad."

   She only stared at him.

   Harry pouted, and Harley giggled.  "Trust me; you don't want to fight
this." The jester tapped her chin.  "Ya know, if we really want to make a
statement, why not disappear for a while?  Make them think that we're
planning something big."

   The raven-haired teen weighed the options in his head.  "And what would
we actually be doing?"

   Harley couldn't contain her mischievous grin, and Ivy rolled her eyes,
but said nothing.

   They all turned as a door slammed, and saw Vicki step through the door
in a huff.  She stopped abruptly at the villains in front of her.  "Er...
hi."

   Harleen, the dirty ideas in her head being discarded easily, blinked
rapidly at the woman in front of her.  "Wow...  you're /hot/.  I thought
that was all TV makeup."

   The blonde struggled not to self-consciously brush her hair back behind
her ear.  "T-Thanks.  Coming from you, that means...  I don't know what
that means." She took in the sight of the three superpowers standing
together.  "So, is this the part where my services are no longer needed,
and I suffer a painful parting of ways?"

   "We were actually considering just shooting you in the face as you
entered the door," Harry deadpanned, "but you didn't give me time to
reload."

   She was silent for a few beats.  "Mind if I get in a quick interview,
first?"

   Harry let out a surprised chuckle.  "This whole bloody world is insane."

   Ivy and Harley sent each other knowing looks, while Vicki gave a little
smile.  "Not the first time I've heard that.  But I usually hear that from
the even less sane." She let the comment hang in the air.

   He shrugged in reply to the reporter.  "I've got no proof to the
contrary."

   "The first step is admitting it," the blonde smiled, not sensing either
of the three to be particularly deadly in this mood.  "So what were you
saying earlier about a business proposition?  A chance to be the face of
the new crisis that is the Femme Fatale and the Warlock?"

   Harley refrained from mentioning what a nice face it would be, resting
her head against her girlfriend's hips from her chair.  "Need anything
picked up from your house?"

   She shrugged indifferently.  "All of my valuables are in storage.  I
like to move around.  Job hazards and all.  Don't need my house on the
public record, after all."

   "Clever girl," Ivy repeated, and Vicki frowned as she looked closer.

   "You...  you look younger than I am."

   "But I couldn't be," Pamela informed her innocently.  "I'm twenty-seven.
Don't you look at the news?"

   Vicki suddenly laughed, realizing what they did.  "You confirmed a lot
of false rumors, and now Gotham is taking them as fact.  Now they have no
idea what to look for."

   "Actually," Harleen countered, "they know /exactly/ what to look for. 
They're just /wrong/."

   "How good are you at keeping secrets?" Harry wondered in an innocuous
tone.  "Regular secrets, I mean.  Not the ones where we /have/ to threaten
with death."

   "Err," the blonde stuttered, "it's not usually a good mix with my job,
but I can keep a secret."

   Harry nodded approvingly, and twirled the mic in his hand.  "We've got a
little problem here, and we need your expert opinion on something."

   "Oh - alright." She visibly relaxed.  "What can I do for you?"

   Ivy pursed her lips.  "How big of an impact do you think we made so
far?"

   Vicki pondered to herself, and chose her words carefully.  "Honestly?"
They nodded.  "No one does that anymore.  No one expresses their intent. 
Yes, usually there is an impressive display of powers, and some vague
announcement of taking over, but what you three did was effective.  You've
got their ear, at least."

   Harleen grinned toothily.  "Perfect.  Hope they get the message."

   "For their sake," Pamela agreed, nodding with a full-fledged smile - a
rare sight for Poison Ivy.

   Harry shrugged in defeat, somewhat amused as he handed the mic off to
Harley.  "I know when I'm beat.  You're right; I think we've done enough
for a while."

   "Aw, don't feel so bad," muttered Harley, exuberantly wrapping her arms
around the green-eyed wizard's torso.  "I'm sure we'll run into Bats again.
I'm sure Tonks and Hermione would like to talk to you again.  Why don't you
give them the update, and see what they think?  I'm curious to see how far
they've got along, too."

   Harry, taking her advice, was half-way through pulling out his mirror
when he gave her a strange look.  "Really?" Harry didn't know how to take
that statement.

   "Well..." she began slowly, "the faster they figure out the veil, the
closer they are to figuring out all of its secrets.  I imagine if it takes
any longer than a few months to get you to find some way back, then the
code to everything might be nearly impossible, if only a percent figured
out.  And then we'd have to find the portal, because I'm not really sure if
it stays in the right place.  Then there's the chance of multiple
universes, and other threats that could step out of your veil if someone
starts tweaking with it and - "

   "What if I was pulled here?"

   Harley stopped abruptly.  "Wha?"

   "What if," Harry conjectured, "and I mean, this may be a big 'if', but
what if I was meant to be here?  There isn't a portal in front of the
Monarch Theater, unless it was specifically looking for some other type of
'Arch'.  If this world had magic, then why did I not step out of the /veil/
here?  Why not in any other world with that arch?  It's got to exist
somewhere else, right?  This can't be the only other place.  I don't see,
in any way, how I was chosen to be here.  Twenty one years ago.  In The
United States.  In Gotham.  Right next to where you were robbing a Jewelry
Store."

   He looked away, feeling uncomfortable in the extended silence.  "Fate
and I...  don't get along sometimes.  I like to think I forge my own, but I
can't imagine that the good things that have happened to me was by my own
merit.  As far as I see it, this cements it.  This could be a meeting of
fate.  Maybe I was sent here because I was supposed to.  To see this
through with the both of you.  Maybe...  maybe I was fated to not go back."

   Harley didn't blink.  "Then change your fate again."

   Harry scoffed light-heartedly.  "Saying it and trying to believe it are
two different things."

   "Then believe it." She grabbed his hand.  "Don't think for a second that
you're not wanted, here or there.  Fate or not, you're going back, and
whenever you want to, you can come here.  Or we can go there.  Fate put you
with Hermione, as it has me with Pammy.  Maybe that much /is/ true.  Might
also be true that fate made you a hero, like it made me a villain.  But you
forged the rest of your path.  You chose the dark side.  No matter how much
pressure you felt to be good, like I did, you chose the darker path.  In a
lot of ways, we're on the same path." Her lips quirked.  "Maybe, in some
kind of fucked up reality, I'm supposed to be the parallel version of
/you/. The fact that you bumped into me might be what you call fate, just
as much as when Ivy broke out of her cell the only day I visited Blackgate,
where it's just too beautiful to be coincidence.  There's nothing beautiful
about leaving a family behind.  Your girls are also your fate.  If it was
never meant to happen, then it wouldn't have."

   She looked over to Ivy, who blushed under her appraisal - another rare
sight for the green teen.  "I don't have the best understanding of fate -
I'm more into logic, myself - but I can't imagine my life without Pamela.
Maybe I would have gone on and never shown up at that prison, but to know
any other life, knowing that this is what could have been, isn't a life
worth living." She looked back to Harry.  "You still have the means to make
that mirror.  You still have the link to her.  You still have the memory of
her.  If you think Fate would send you here with the full memory of another
life, and just expect you to tough it out here, then it's time to fuck Fate
right back.  You can bring people back from the /dead/, Harry.  You are
fate.  You could be his or her worst nightmare.  You could have more power
than they ever could.  There are two people that can decide what happens
next - you and Hermione.  Fate might've put you two together, but breaking
you two apart?  From what I've heard so far - Literally.  /Impossible/."

   Harry snorted again in the light-hearted sense.  "You might be right,
Harley." He smiled softly at her, and she returned the gesture.  "Alright.
I'll keep that in mind.  Thanks."

   "Any time.  Keep in mind the next time you have doubts like that again,
I might just kick your shin or somethin'.  Gets the same message across."

   He leaned down and caught a quick kiss.  "I wouldn't worry about those
doubts again.  Thanks." At her nod, he stood back up and looked over to
Ivy, who was leaning against the console, giving them space, and smiled in
her support at every word Harley had said.  Probably including the last
part.  "If anything, I'm glad that I'll never have to compete for a place
in Harley's heart like yours.  I've got my own one true, thanks.  In case
there were any lingering doubts."

   Pamela easily shook her head.  "You've snuck into my heart just as much
as Harley's.  I don't consider it a place, or an order.  You can love
someone in different ways, or you hate someone in different ways, or
there's indifference.  I love Harley in every way that there is.  And while
you've only been here for a matter of days, I can easily see why, even with
your bond, it's not too hard to fall in love with you.  Even with my bond
with Harley - even in the more spiritual sense - that I find myself falling
for you almost as hard.  That's what confused me - the ability for you to
love so many girls.  I couldn't understand how you could undermine such a
relationship that, to be blunt, usually dilutes when the number of partners
increase.  The line between love and lust is wide, but hazy.  But now, I
see it - you've always known the difference - you love those girls.  And
you love us.  As equals.  And while Hermione may hold a special place,
you'd die for any one of us, wouldn't you?"

   Harry nodded soberly.  "As would Hermione."

   She glided forward, and kissed him tenderly.

   When they parted, sparkling green eyes met deep emerald hues.  "As would
we."

   "Ditto," Harley agreed, as eloquently as she could put it without
tearing up.  In her opinion, watching the two embrace was even sweeter than
their reunion last night.

   The Boy-Who-Lived cleared his tight throat.  "Let's hope it doesn't come
to that."

   Ivy handed Harry the mirror that he had put down earlier.  "Come on -
let's call Hermione, and see what everyone's up to.  I'd like to meet more
of the girls I said I'd risk my life for."

   Harry chuckled.  "I'd need another book for that; Volume One for Hidden
Powers, Volume Two for Girls."

   "I want my own chapter," Harley responded immediately, with a teasing
smile.

   "You're certainly not a footnote," he muttered, and stepped back to lean
against the console.  The two followed, Harley spinning in her chair all
the way.

   She took note of the crack in the door that the reporter had gone back
through earlier, presumably to give them some privacy.  She really hoped
the older blonde could keep secrets.

   She also took note of the catsuit-clad thief turned away from them as
she was lying on the sofa.  While the back view was impressive, there were
more pressing matters - like the fact that she was lying on the
once-injured leg.  She was lying like that because it was the one way she
could lay comfortably to hide her face from them.

   Selina didn't have a good track-record of secrets, but hell, no one yet
knew the correlation between Harleen and Harley, so the girl gave her some
credit.

   Hell, if any of this leaked, she'd honestly be looking at Eddie first.
God knows how many cameras must be on around here, if only for insurance
purposes.

   Let the test commence.  There shouldn't be too many secrets on a team
anyway.  If anything got out, then it wouldn't be too big a deal.  Best to
find a weak link now, when everyone is still new.

   As she rested her elbow against the console, she smiled innocently at
Ivy's silent question and nodded her head at the Cat Burglar.  Pammy
smirked and nodded over to the door.  She had a good view of the door the
whole time, so she must've known something Harley didn't.

   They smiled conspiratorially at each other, completely missing Harry's
innocent chuckle before he spoke Hermione's name into the mirror.

   -----------------------

   *~Pre-Veil~*

   "/You should get some sleep, Harry," Parvati said gently, but firmly. 
"You look a wreck."/

   "/I am," he promised again, before he promptly fainted dead, not hearing
their shrieks of surprise and worry./

   The sound of a baby's cheerful laughter was the first thing that
penetrated Harry's senses when he awoke.  Absently reaching for his
glasses, he squinted as he sat up.

   The laughter stopped, and soft cooing noises began to gurgle forward. 
Harry's eyes stared blankly ahead, numbly aware that even without his
glasses, he could see the shelves of books before him very clearly.

   The plain white books on the plain white shelves, in a vast expanse of
whiteness.  Plain whiteness.

   He turned his head towards the sight, and choked back a gasp.

   Hermione Granger was there, smiling as radiantly as she had always been,
as if she herself didn't know what happened to her.  Her two front teeth
bit into her bottom lip with anticipated glee as he noticed her, and Harry
found himself, just a little bit, forgetting about the previous days he had
to endure.

   But, oddly enough, it wasn't his best friend that his eyes had dwelled
on first.  It was, rather, the small baby shifting backwards and forwards
in her cradled arms.  "Dada!"

   Hermione had a preciously nervous grin as Harry looked on in wonder. 
"Hello.  Dada."

   Harry slowly stood up, disjointed to say the least.  He couldn't even
see the white floor he was standing on, it blended so well into the rest of
the nothingness.  "Hermione?  Is this another dream?"

   "I asked myself that when I got here." She looked down at the baby in
her arms, reaching for his 'father'.  "Even as I lived your life, I tried
thinking that it was all some sick nightmare." She gently removed her hand
and cradled the child with the other, and held her finger up.  The little
one, easily, reached out for the dangling finger.  "At first, it was your
parents.  Context aside, I'm really glad that I met them.  It was short,
but it was lasting." She watched the tiny child suckle on her finger with a
serene smile.  "Then it was /them/.  I won't say much.  Nothing you already
don't know."

   Harry felt himself tremble as he stepped forward, towards the illusion,
unaware of the robe wrapped around him.  Even as she talked so plainly
about the Dursleys, smiling at the young infant, she looked distant - cold.
Trying to detach herself from her emotions.

   The baby began to cry.  Hermione was quick to begin rocking the infant,
whispering encouraging words into his ear.  "/Shhh/; it's okay, darling. 
Mummy and Daddy are here.  You'll never have to worry again.  You'll never
have to be afraid.  You'll never be forced to be alone.  You'll never yearn
for love again.  I promise you." Tears fell from her eyes, the salty
wetness dampening her smile.

   Harry tenderly pressed his palm against her cheek, and it sent a shock
through him as he felt her skin - it was so /real/.

   "Am I..." He cleared his parched throat.  "Are we in purgatory?"

   She looked up and her smile now looked genuine.  "That was my first
thought." She leaned into his hand.  "My parents were Catholic -
notwithstanding the concept of witches, they tried to raise me the same.  I
kept myself firmly in the realm of logic - meaning, I couldn't really
decide what decision to come to, for my sake or my parents'." She stepped
closer, and the child, enveloped in a gray blanket, had since stopped
crying, and looked to both with curious eyes.

   Deep pools of curious green eyes.

   "At this point," Hermione muttered, looking down into the beautiful
orbs, "I still don't know what to believe in.  I'm not dead - my body is
adjusting, I think.  To your presence.  Your Horcrux.  So I came to see
you. It wasn't too hard to find you.  You were always right next to me."
She motioned towards the teething baby boy.  "And then I found...  a
shriveled, grotesque, spawn of a child.  It was hideous.  It was deformed.
It was almost unbearable to look at.

   "But," she muttered, almost to herself, "above all else, it was
suffering.  It was abandoned.  It was in pain.  Had I known beforehand what
it was, I probably wouldn't have picked it up.  But I'm so glad that I did.
And even after I found out that this was once a piece of Voldemort, I
didn't regret it.  I just took it in my arms, and it stopped wailing.  And
then...  it changed.  Into this." She gently plucked her finger out of the
newborn's mouth, before cradling it with two hands again.  "And then," she
sniffed, "he called me mummy."

   "Mummy!" The baby repeated on cue with enthusiasm, wriggling in his
blanket, his beautiful green eyes attached on the flustered girl.

   Harry had tears in his eyes as he saw the happiness in Hermione's - the
eyes that he had thought, for a moment, that he would never see again.  "It
seems that he likes you."

   The infant remembered the other person in the room.  "Dada!"

   Harry felt a wave of emotion hit him, and his eyes clouded over. 
"Dada," he repeated softly.

   "Dada!" the child reiterated, smiling brilliantly.  His messy brown hair
was smoothed over gently by Harry's fingers as he stroked his head
tenderly.

   Hermione was gleaming as she watched the two interact, before she
suddenly frowned.  "You're going to be woken up soon, Harry.  He's trying
to get into your mind.  Don't trust him."

   Harry nodded, feeling a small ache at his temple, but ignored it for
now. "Can...  can I hold him?"

   Hermione slowly handed the newborn over, and Harry felt awkward as he
cradled the infant in his arms.  He had never held a child before, but some
part of him felt that no matter how he was holding it, it felt - /right/.

   Harry didn't have a particular religion in his life - his relatives were
church-goers, but he wasn't going to go by their standard for anything -
but, seeing the child swaddled in his embrace, and the girl in front of
him, he was sure that while he hadn't prayed, someone had answered them.

   "Fate, Harry," Hermione whispered, even over the pounding in his head.
"Maybe even some type of destiny.  We've already connected in the spiritual
sense.  A divine intervention?" She wiped her sleeve against her eyes, and
grinned a happy grin.  "I don't want to question it.  Just don't think for
a second that I like you any less than before this all started."

   Harry desperately wanted to believe her - and surprisingly, he did.

   "Good," she muttered, gently gripping onto the now-sleeping baby and
holding it against her.  "I imagine we're going to have a lot to talk about
when I wake up," she grinned.

   Harry smiled back over the splitting headache.  "I just might look
forward to it."

   She tenderly hefted the child so the chin could rest on her shoulder. 
Tentatively, she leaned forward to kiss the ebony-haired wizard, and Harry
could only respond by kissing back.  It was chaste, much like their last
and only kiss before, but they were both excited about the things to come -
their future together.

   "Embrace it, Harry," she whispered when they parted.  "And...  it might
be too late.  For the actual Horcrux from Voldemort.  But while we can - we
can embrace it.  See what it has to teach us.  See if it can be changed. 
Molded, somehow." She nodded towards the baby.  "You'd be surprised what
can happen when you realize you're not alone."

   Harry gave her a quick kiss, and grunted over the blinding pain. 
"Especially," he breathed, "when you're with someone you love."

   With a /snap/, he felt his mind put together again, and into place.  And
he was gone.

   --------

   His eyes fluttered open, and he groaned.

   "Are you okay, my boy?" The first thing Harry noticed was the kindly
smile.  The second was a pair of twinkling eyes over half-moon spectacles.

   Harry's head began to throb again, and he quickly focused back on the
nice smile.

   "I must say, Harry, you gave us all a fright.  I hope you had a
well-deserved slumber."

   "Thank you, Headmaster," Harry muttered in what he deemed a grateful
tone.  "What happened?"

   The wizened wizard stroked his impossibly long beard.  "Why, you
fainted, dear boy.  You've been out for a couple of hours.  Your vitals
read normal, but we were still concerned at the prolonged hibernation."

   Harry refrained from snorting.  They had it far easier than he had it in
the past few days.  "Where am I?"

   He made a show of looking around.  "The Hospital Wing.  I imagine that
this is your first time here, yes?"

   He nodded.

   Dumbledore's hand waved, and the curtain pulled open from around them.
Naturally, Harry was more focused on Dumbledore's other hand, behind his
back.  Still, he made a show of looking around as well, mimicking
Dumbledore.  "You will find that Madame Poppy Pomfrey is the best medical
healer around, even if," he chuckled to himself, "the medicine is not quite
as appealing in taste as one would hope.  But very effective, so I would
hope you can down them all." He motioned towards the headstand next to his
bed, and Harry sat up to look at the four small bottles of heinous looking
fluid.  "Take your time, Harry.  Now, do you mind telling me what happened
for you to faint?  Do you remember anything?"

   Harry's mind was working hard for an excuse, and threw caution to the
wind.  "I don't know, sir." He absently reached for his glasses, and
realized with a start that he could see perfectly well.  Still, his face
didn't betray him, and he nonchalantly slipped his glasses on.  He eyed the
headmaster curiously, marveling at how the glasses blurred his new vision
spectacularly.  He had no idea how truly blind he once was.  "Much better."

   Dumbledore's whiskers glinted in the light as he smiled.  "The guardian
of the Gryffindor Tower - you may very well recognize her by her other
endearing title, the Fat Lady - warned me as soon as she saw you collapse.
Miss Patil and Miss Bones graciously escorted you to the Hospital Wing,
with a rather impressive use of the Floating Charm." His eyes twinkled in
Harry's direction, and Harry felt a niggling in the back of his mind. 
"Poppy had a fit - she thought they would drop you.  I am proud to say,
however, that nothing of the sort happened."

   Harry outwardly breathed a sigh of relief, while mentally thanking the
girls, and making a note to personally thank them.  "So, is that it?  After
the potions, I'm free to go?" He was very, painfully aware that Dumbledore
had not yet even tried to call for Pomfrey, and even probably disabled the
wards from alerting her when he woke.

   Albus frowned minutely, knowing this private conversation was over, as
what Harry was aiming for.  "I'm afraid that you will have to inquire to
Madame Pomfrey about any other tasks she needs to perform on you." He
flicked his wand again, and while Harry wasn't ready for it before, he
noticed it now; Dumbledore's magic flared as he reenacted the ward, and the
immediate pulse that flared confirmed Harry's guess of the ward announcing
to Pomfrey that he was now awake.

   "Some advice, my dear boy," Dumbledore murmured sagely.  "Please eat. 
And it is imperative that you get a good night's sleep every so often. 
You're still a growing lad, yet.  Miss Granger will be back soon enough. 
You two have been inseparable ever since the first day of school, and I
admit, that may be because you knew each other far before." He began to
stroke his beard again.  "I also admit; you are far different from what I
expected you to be, Harry Potter.  Ever since you ran away from your
family, everyone looked for you, and you did a very good job at staying
hidden." He saw Harry visibly wince at the word 'family', and refrained
from mentioning any future summer plans to the boy.  It was best to wait
until after the potions fully kicked in, which could be in a matter of
days. "I'm just happy that you're safe and alive, my boy.  Perhaps, you
could regale me with your adventures abroad sometime?" His eyes sparkled
merrily, and Harry had to give him credit - the man did not seem to give up
when it came to getting information.

   Harry nodded.  "Of course, Headmaster." Harry needed to work on his
improvisational story-telling anyway.  He would be the perfect test. 
"Anytime.  If Hermione would like to, I would prefer her to come with me."

   "Of course I would, Harry." She spoke from the doorway; even Dumbledore
looked back in surprise, not expecting her to be there.  "Greetings,
Headmaster.  I have returned.  Please send along my thanks to Professor
Snape for allowing me a few days absence."

   "I will pass on the message, Miss Granger," he murmured, slipping back
into his impassive face.  "Just please, contact your head of house first if
there is an emergency."

   She nodded.  "I will keep that in mind, Headmaster." Her chocolate brown
eyes turned to Harry, and the gleam in her eyes was a sight that Harry
welcomed openly.  "Parvati told me what happened.  Are you alright?"

   Harry only grinned in reply, not really sure if he was still dreaming
again, as the matriarch of the Hospital Wing bustled into the room, and her
eyes roved over Harry's relaxed form before she breathed a sigh of relief.

   "I only hope to see you in this bed once this year, Mister Potter," the
motherly matron said in a clipped tone.  "I've seen you play Quidditch. 
This does /not/ need to happen out there, with the stunts that you do." Her
frown softened.  "It's nice to see that you are alright, and you were
merely famished.  Please come to me if you find yourself unable to eat more
than a few small portions of food a day.  I estimate that you'll be able to
eat normally in a few days..."

   Harry was half-focused on Pomfrey, more focused on Hermione's grinning
visage.  Nothing else mattered.  All was right with the world.

   It was only minutes later that he found himself alone with his best
friend.  She sat by his bedside, holding his hand as they sat together in
silence.  She twiddled with her thumbs in concentration, and while Harry
had so many things to tell her, he would wait until she said her peace.

   Finally, she said something - it was quiet, and Harry almost asked her
to repeat it, but his logical mind quickly caught up to her mumbled words.

   "/I love you, too./"

   Hermione squeaked in shock as Harry hugged her to him, barely noticing
him even moving, and she tightened her arms around him.

   She smiled against his neck as she breathed deeply.  "Sorry for scaring
you."

   Harry shook his head.  "Sorry for making you think you had to
apologize."

   She laughed heartily and kissed the side of his neck.  "Apology
accepted." She stood against him, and gently pushed him away.  "Now go
apologize to those girls for trying to push them away when they were trying
to help you."

   Harry awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.  "Want to come with me? 
They'll be happy to see you."

   Hermione slipped her hand in his.  "Of course." With a quick spell
behind her, the bottles of murky fluid were all empty.  She winked, and
Harry chanced a quick peck on the cheek, before the two walked on,
oblivious to the next drastic tear in the fabric of reality.

   The two went to search for Parvati, Susan, and Daphne, their lives
unknowingly changed more drastically than they ever thought it would.

   -----------------------

   *~Post-Veil~* ~Scene of the Crime, Gotham~

   Gordon stared incredulously at the writhing mass of vines and its
captives.  "What the hell happened here?"

   "Poison Ivy," Bullock grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.  "Whaddya
/think/ happened?  Bitch got the drop on us and had us wrapped tighter than
a freakin' Christmas gift."

   His red mustache wiggled in annoyance.  "Let me guess - you didn't see
them escape?"

   "I was unconscious!  They left me for dead and went on their merry way!"
The entire situation seemed to upset him more than anyone else.  "I can't
believe she knocked me out."

   Gordon looked back at the aggrandized memorial to the green vixen's
power.  "And she was alone."

   "Nah.  The clown was with her, too, like always.  /He/ wasn't there this
time, though."

   Gordon snarled.  "I doubt him and they already parted ways.  Warlock
must've been up to something else."

   He had no idea how to describe /this/ to the communicator, but he was
sure Batman was looking at this, from...  somewhere.  It wasn't too hard to
miss.

   Oversized, tree-sized vines had completely taken over the intersection,
writhing and slithering about, daring anyone to come close.  Their
baseball-sized thorns made the circle of relative safety even wider,
ensuring that no one would come within reach.

   Bullet-proof.  Or rather, an invisible shield preventing any bullets to
get to the vines.  That alone would make this an isolated, quarantined
incident, provided that the vines could not escape the dome.

   But hidden, in its sprawling thorny depths, were thirty-seven officers
who were lost in that /thing/.

   James turned away from the pit.  They needed to be /stopped/.

   And he was finally beginning to accept that he alone couldn't.  The
entire damn department probably couldn't.

   He paced away, about to make the call, when Sarah ran up to him.  "Jim!
The Monarch Theater!  It's been burned down!"

   "Call the fire department!" He didn't understand why Essen was telling
him about an abandoned theater when they were dealing with this serious
issue.

   "It's too late.  It's gone.  We think it was Warlock."

   "Warlock?  How?  And what do you mean, /'gone'/?"

   "Thirty minutes ago - around the time Poison Ivy was seen here - the
Monarch caught on fire.  No one saw who did it.  It collapsed and burned to
a crisp in seconds.  The fire was /blue/, James.  No other building was
even affected.  Not a scorch mark.  Just - just ash."

   Not even Firefly could do that.  Gordon admitted that as The Warlock was
the only unknown, and he seemed to have an affinity to fire, this could
very easily be his handiwork.

   But what was the purpose?  Why destroy a random theater?  Was he sending
a message?  He sent a bigger one here.  He couldn't understand it.

   But he'd be damn sure to figure it out.  Something must've happened
there.

   "I need to go." He pointed to Bullock, who was roughly adjusting his
neck.  "Harvey!  You're on point tonight." He took a chance and guessed. 
"Hit it with fire.  See if that doesn't get past the dome." He turned to
Sarah.  "He's been acting strange.  Keep an eye on him."

   She nodded resolutely, and he ran off to his patrol vehicle.

   This wasn't going to go on any further.  Warlock, Femme Fatale, even
that damned newswoman - all of them would be brought in for this; he swore,
then and there, this chaos would stop.

   -----------------------

   Selina stalked out of her brand new room in a green t-shirt and blue
jeans, her petite bare feet not making a sound as she roamed the vaguely
familiar hallway.  She brushed a stray strand of her short-cropped black
hair from her eyes, as she looked for everyone.

   Eddie was on his laptop in the kitchen, lamenting at the loss of his lab
as he watched the footage of the carnage that took place hours earlier. 
She made sure to sneak past him, or he'd be lamenting non-stop about how it
was the /perfect/ place to hide (and as Harry pointed out, he was captured
at least once, and Batman had found it immediately) and that Batman, and
Black Mask, would pay for this.

   She managed to sneak into the Living Room, where she found the rest of
the group.  An elaborate wooden block set welcomed her - an impressive
looking sculpture was slowly rotating in seemingly mid-air.

   "What do you think, Kyle?" She blinked and looked over to Harley, who
noticed her first.

   "Uh...." She prided herself on her quick wit, but she had just woken up
and got changed into her civilian clothing.  Still, from what she heard
earlier, she could take a guess at what the group was doing.  "Maybe a
basement for Eddie?  He won't shut up.  Or a Prisoner of War cell?"

   Harry slapped his hand against the house, and it spun a little faster.
When it slowed down, looking significantly taller than she remembered, he
looked to the couple for approval.

   "Looks good," Ivy leaned forward with her chin in her hand, sitting on
her new favorite sofa, "but we'd have to dig carefully if we want to go
that deep.  I don't exactly have, uh, /conventional/ plumbing in this
house. It's all a well-pump connected to a cache of water underground."

   Harry nodded, understanding.  "I can take care of that.  Anything else?
Vicki?"

   She shook her head.  "A newsroom?  Just a small one.  With a green
screen?  That way, it could look professional.  It's all about the
presentation."

   Harry clicked his tongue at the sculpture.  "We could add that to the
gym, maybe?  Put it under a /Silencio/ ward.  Or maybe in the war room?"
Harley really liked the idea of a war conference chamber.  She was firmly
convinced that she was just the only one unafraid to admit it.

   "This place is getting pretty big," Harley admitted, sitting back on the
arm of the sofa, next to Ivy.  "We could just put it in one of the guest
rooms?  Or in one of the guest cabins."

   "This might be too much," Ivy muttered worriedly.  "I can't believe that
even in the scope of magic, that someone couldn't see this."

   Selina, while having seen what he had been able to do so far, had her
fair share of skepticism as well.

   Harry did - /something/ - with his hands, and the wooden blocks exploded
outwards.  Everyone in the room, sans the Warlock, flinched at the incoming
barrage, until they looked carefully.

   The entire landscape of the property was laid out before them.  The
trees were voluminous in size, even on the scale model.  He lowered the
model, and they marveled at the detail of the inviting expanse.  The house
was the most prominent - arguably - and the guest houses could be seen as
well.  At this point, the house could be considered more of a mansion, and
the guest houses were part of the massive estate.

   Then, one by one, the houses disappeared, and more trees took its place.

   "/Fidelius/ Charm," Harry spoke, and the girls all looked towards him.
"If you don't know what exists in these forests, then you will never find
it.  That's how the human mind works - I've always believed that wizards
have been able to pick apart the brain so well, they can't comprehend it
themselves.  The charm tricks you into seeing more trees, since that's all
you saw before.  That's all you can see.  Just trees." By the time he
finished speaking, the trees were expansive and vast across the scale,
looking uniform and perfectly...  plain.

   A small wooden crow squawked loudly, flying up from the middle and
flapping its wings across the tops of the trees.  It flew away from the
sculpture and glided gracefully towards Ivy.  Stunned, she held out her
finger for the small bird, and it landed on the tip, before pecking
affectionately.

   Pamela looked up to Harry, who was smiling confidently.  "Remind me to
eat my words next time I doubt you." The big grin on her face took away the
embarrassment of her situation.

   Harry chuckled and eyed the crowd.  "So...  anything else?"

   Selina winced at the stray thought, but decided to voice the idea,
anyway.  "Maybe...  maybe a cat palace?"

   She felt all eyes on her, and for once, she didn't like the attention.
"Just a thought," Selina muttered.

   "It's a good idea," Harry admitted.  "What with the multitude of cats
around.  I doubt your cavalcade of felines would come to the forest,
but..." he shrugged, "stranger things can, and will, happen.  What does the
room say?  Cats get their own mansion?"

   Harley pouted.  "I prefer that my cats stay in their room with their
mommy."

   "I vote for the cat palace," Ivy said easily, missing the glare from her
girlfriend in favor of focusing on the little bird in her palm.  "They can
spend the night whenever, Harleen.  But just imagine cleaning after them in
such a large house - the hidden places that we could never find, that they
can come and go to.  I imagine they'd be quite pleased with a play pen and
a house-sized litter box."

   Harley didn't stop pouting, but she could see her point.  "Alright," she
grumbled.  "But I just can't help but imagine you sending me there if I
misbehave."

   "Doghouse, sweetie," she simpered, and finally looked away from the bird
to her girl.  "Unless you want to adopt a wolf or something?"

   Harley blushed.  She had considered that, once.  "I'm more of a cat
person, thank you." She crossed her arms, and looked away.  "I'll get back
to you on that."

   Vicki felt that she had to say something.  "I'm allergic to cats," she
told the room.

   Harley's eyes shifted.  "Don't look down."

   The adventurous reporter, normally non-compliant towards a villain's
demands, regretted it when she immediately looked down.

   Bubbles, her eyes an eerie icy blue, stared up at her, transfixed, from
the side of the chair.  As soon as the blonde saw her, she rested her chin
on the woman's jean-clad knees.

   There was a slight slump as Vicki fainted in the chair, and the massive
lion began licking her limp hand affectionately.

   Ivy, Harley, and Selina all stared at the sight for a few moments,
before Harley pat her thigh.  Bubbles quickly turned her head and skipped
over to her blond companion.  Harry raised his hand to /Enervate/ Vicki,
but thought better of it.  "It's best to let her sleep it off," he muttered
to himself.

   "I'll take her to her room," Selina sighed, moving across the room to
gather the girl in her arms.  Her lips twitched in amusement; the woman who
penned her that horrible name was now unconscious in her clutches.  While
she had imagined the scenario, the events leading up to it were
significantly drastic from what she had envisioned.

   She raised her eyebrow at Harry as she walked past him.  "Where's my
gifts?"

   Harry only smirked in response.  "You mean the stuff you stole from
Eddie?  I gave it to him."

   "What is this, the House of Hypocrisy?  We're all criminals, here." Even
as she tried to sound indignant, the small smile she had ruined her serious
tone.

   "We're a team now," Harley gently informed her.  "Besides, where's your
spirit of giving?"

   The ebony-haired thief scoffed.  "Only on Christmas, dear."

   The bespectacled girl shrugged.  "It might be /somewhere/."

   Selina looked flummoxed.  "I have no idea how to respond to that."

   Harley waved it off.  "Pair it with the whole conversation you were
peeking in on, and it'll all come together." She smiled sweetly.

   The thief rolled her eyes.  Either she was losing her touch, or they
just /knew everything/.  "Whatever.  Good night."

   They bid goodnight to her before she left the room with the reporter,
before Harley turned to Harry.  "Selina seems to have softened up to you -
I guess being shot really made her think about the allies she shouldn't try
to push away.  But can we trust 'em?"

   Harry nodded.  "I think so.  I think we can also trust Edward. 
Magically binding contracts are out of the question - no magic to bind - so
we'd have to go on their word alone."

   "They live here now," Ivy reminded them.  "It's a long trek back to the
city.  We can keep an eye on them for as long as we need to.  If any of our
secrets are spoiled, then we just figure it out from there."

   "I think we don't have anything to really worry about when it comes to
what we're planning - there's nothing to really gain on that.  We have far
more dangerous secrets that they don't really need to know.  And once the
property is built, and hidden, no one is able to tell anyone else where the
house is.  So we're safe on that front.  But," Harry eyed the two
curiously. "Were there any more team members you'd prefer?"

   Ivy eyed the small wooden crow circle above her head like a makeshift
halo.  "I can think of one.  But he's in Blackgate."

   "Partners," Harley muttered to herself, "Can't think of one.  But a good
pet?  Refer to the 'sewers' comment." She smirked at her girlfriend. 
"Think /that/ dude could be domesticated?"

   Ivy only scoffed in reply, her eyes on the green-eyed wizard.  "So
Blackgate is our next target?"

   Harry nodded.  "After the renovations, would probably be best.  Gotta
look the part of a major crime organization, right?"

   Harley clicked her tongue.  "Got a /lot/ of people here," she murmured,
prolonging 'lot' for effect.  "And just a few days ago, we were living in
isolation." She looked up at Harry.  "Don't get me wrong - it's for the
better, and I don't regret how we got to this point, it's just, I feel like
we're running a hotel, here."

   Harry could see her point.  There was a time that Hermione, Sirius and
he lived alone in the Potter Family home, and that was now far from the
case.  By that time, Sirius had been banished to Grimmauld Place by
Dumbledore.  Harry sometimes missed the solitude - the quiet moments of
escape and blissful detachment, with his Godfather and his best friend.

   "I'll work on that," Harry told her sensitively.  "Sometimes, you need
your space.  You two need some time to be alone together.  I could make
something I'll think you'll love."

   Harley smiled at the thought, but frowned at the implications.  "I
wasn't including you on the visitors' list."

   Ivy stretched her legs out and stood up, gently pecking Harleen on her
soft lips as she rose.  She sauntered towards Harry, and lifted her arms to
lock around his neck.  "What do you say we get to bed?  The /three/ of us;
as fate intended."

   Harry had no problems with that, and his heart swelled with emotion at
her proclamation of what he meant to them now.

   A part of their family.  Not the worst thing in the world to be, he was
sure of it.

   The platform of building blocks slowly floated down to the sitting room
floor, the crow wordlessly flying back into the vast land, as Harry took
his lover into his arms and showed her how grateful he was for the
invitation.

   -----------------------

   The Batman loomed over Park Row, looking over the setting sun of Gotham
City.

   He only spared a glance at the ashes that was once the Monarch theater,
before he abruptly turned and set off.

   It was time to put these criminals */down/*.


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