revmeup | call me out

Harley doesn't look at Martin at all. She slips her hands into her jacket pockets and looks around the room, giving a low whistle. "Fuck me, this cell is nicer than my apartment."

It's like this hospital has never had an audit. She doesn't even hesitate to cross over the red line in confident strides to take a lap around the room, still ignoring Martin until she's right next to him. Then she sticks out her hand for a shake and introduces herself with every ounce of cheer and good charm she can muster. Which is just so, so much.

"So nice to finally meet you, Marvin."

Malcolm puts up a hand and nearly stops her before she goes over the red line, but then he remembers who she is. Harley would destroy him if he put a hand on her. Malcolm would too.

Martin graciously takes her hand in his, having watched her warily as she took her own tour of his cell. "Martin Whitly," he tells her. "It's so lovely to meet you." He turns back towards Malcolm. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Harley is my girlfriend," Malcolm tells him, sharing information that his father definitely knows. "We decided to just pull the Band-Aid off and introduce the two of you since you know she's working here at Claremont. That way you won't have to try some ridiculous scheme to get the two of you alone."

Harley squeezes Martin's hand with surprising strength before letting go and flipping through the papers left out on his desk. She isn't looking for anything in particular and seems unimpressed with everything she sees. Really, she just wants to get her grubby hands on all his nice things. She even manages to smudge a spot of wet ink across a crucial part of his notes. Find the precise way to be the most annoying in any circumstance is her secret power.

She makes a dismissive noise and walks back to Malcolm's side. "Meeting you is easy mode after brunching with Jessica."

"Scheme?" Martin asks. "Now why would I do that?"

Malcolm watches Martin as he observes Harley moving around, picking up his drawings and other papers. He can see the mild annoyance in his father's eyes, though he hides it well. "If you're interested in my work, I'm happy to show you," he tells Harley.

Martin observes both of them from across the line, his eyes landing on Harley. "Well, that's to be expected. My Jess can be very scrutinizing." He smiles. "I'm not nearly as... critical."

Harley's fingers twitch at Martin's placement of "my" before Jessica. She could tear his eyes out right now, but Jessica wouldn't thank her for it. Harley knows how it feels when someone else fights an ex on her behalf. It's only satisfying if you get the win for yourself.

Instead, she smiles sweetly. "Twenty years locked up sure has a way of lowering one's standards, I'd imagine." There's still enough of a doctor in her that she can look down her nose at Martin even when they're standing at equal height.

Despite the divorce, Martin will always see Jessica as 'his'. She can try to escape him fully, but she never will.

Martin shrugs a pair of handcuffed hands. "I'd like to think I've never been the critical one, wouldn't you say, my boy?"

Malcolm exhales slowly. "It's hard to be critical of others when you're a serial killer," he replies.

Harley places her hand between Malcolm's shoulders. A reassuring pressure.

"His opinion doesn't matter anyway." She's talking past Martin again.

"I'm curious why you came if my opinion doesn't matter," Martin says.

"I told you," Malcolm replies. "To foil whatever plan you cooked up to get Harley alone. She's not a damsel in distress, but she still doesn't need to be cornered by you."

"Oh, I'm quite aware she's not a damsel," Martin says, taking a seat in his chair and leaning back in it. "I dare say she and I probably have more in common than you two do."

A shiver goes down Malcolm's spine and he clenches his hand to keep it from shaking.

"Sure, Marv, we're two peas in a pod. Except for how your family actually likes me." Her tone is still light and breezy, but there's an edge to her expression that shows how happy she would be to demonstrate their common ground.

Harley slips an arm around Malcolm's middle and squeezes. She's with him. She picked his side.

"I needed to swing by the office to take care of some business. Thought we'd pop in for a quick hello." She shrugs. "So since we've done that, we can get back to our plans. Big day. Lots to do out there."

Martin laughs at that. "Oh, yes, I'm sure Jessica's your biggest fan." He gives a subtle once over to her rather loud outfit. "As we established, she's quite judgy. I'm not."

Malcolm holds Harley to him. "This isn't a social call, Dr. Whitly," he says. "We're leaving."

Harley flips the good doctor double birds on their way out the room and takes a moment to apologize to Mr. David for the upcoming temper tantrum after slamming the door shut.

She slings an arm around Malcolm's shoulders and leans against him.

"You good, babe?"

Martin follows them as far as the lead will allow him, staring after them through the window in the door. "Pity you're leaving so soon," Martin says, looking at Harley. "I was going to offer my assistance to you with your work. I understand you've been interviewing Peter Smithson."

Malcolm glances at his father and then back at Harley, wondering how she'll react to that. "Yeah. Are you?"

Edited 2020-07-22 01:19 (UTC)

Harley doesn't pay Martin's parting shot any mind. He's already dead to her. Peter Smithson runs his mouth for anyone who will listen, and it's no surprise word of her work has reached Martin.

"Me? I'm peachy." She kisses Malcolm on the cheek. "I think that went well, don't you?"

"Hey!" Martin calls after them, the facade falling. "Don't you dare leave yet. I have questions and you know I'll get my answers. Don't think you're going to date my son without my blessing."

Malcolm squeezes Harley's hand and does not turn around to look at his father's tantrum behind them. He just keeps walking, focusing on the door in front of them.

Harley really intended to ignore Martin, but she can't help but react at him falling apart so predictably, so fast. Her laugh is loud and brash, echoing through the hall. That sound will be ringing in his ears for some time after. She has to lean against the wall once they're through the door before her knees buckle from cackling too hard.

The way she laughs sends a shiver up his spine and he wonders, for a brief second, if he just saw Harley the way she was when she was with Joker. Was her cackling just an act for Martin's benefit or did she forget herself for a moment.

Malcolm wraps his arms around her so that she doesn't fall to the ground. "Are you alright?" he asks, brow furrowed.

Harley slips her arms around him and pulls him in for a kiss. She's high off the win, and the tension of a fight in the air needs somewhere to go now that she didn't get an excuse to beat Martin to a pulp.

"I am great. But what about you?"

"Fine," he replies, returning the kiss. He's not actually sure how he is after all that, but it could probably have gone worse. When Malcolm looks down at his hand, it's still shaking. He runs the trembling hand through his hair.

Maybe he's not fine.

Harley clocks that tremble and takes his hand in hers.

"Let's go home."

She leads him out of the building and hails a cab. She guesses he won't want to open up with a stranger in the car so she waits until they get home to press him.

"Talk to me. What are you feeling?"

Malcolm hates that he's panicking. He holds her hand in the cab the whole way home and sits down on the couch as soon as he's back in the apartment.

"It's... the yelling," he says. Malcolm has faced down a hundred serial killers who have yelled far worse things at him and he's hardly batted an eyelash. Martin Whitly is the only one who gets under his skin, and for obvious reasons. "And then you laughed, and..."

"My laugh?" She sits next to him and puts one hand on his back and the other on his thigh. She doesn't see what her laugh has to do with it. And, it had been funny, hadn't it? Sometimes it's hard for her to know.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have suggested it."

Malcolm shakes his head. "No, it was good. It needed to be done." He doesn't regret it, even if it had triggered a panic attack in him. That's just how it is sometimes after he visits his father.

"Your laugh was just... maniacal sounding, though it was probably just me. I was already upset after he suggested he I needed his approval to date you."

It's honestly stupid. Martin probably can't do anything to them, but he still has a mental hold over Malcolm after all this time.

"We don't need his approval for jack shit."

She wants to pull him into her arms and hold him the rest of the day, but she doesn't want to overwhelm him. Especially when she worries she was part of what set him off.

"Were you ... scared of me?"

He furrows his brow. "Not... exactly. It was just kind of shocking after dealing with my father." Malcolm looks up at her. "When I heard you laugh like that, for some reason it made me think of when you used to be with Joker."

Not that he really knew her then, but that crazy laugh had to be related to that time in her life. Even if he wasn't afraid of her, it was still chilling.

She sighs when she thinks of her time with the Joker, and it's not entirely regretful. "He did make me laugh like that," she murmurs, almost to herself. There had been good times. Well, good for them. Not for anyone caught in their storm.

"I didn't stop being that person. I'm...trying. To be less..." She stops and furrows her brow, chews on her lip. It's hard to explain, and maybe not the time.

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