What I am to you is not real Who: Harleen Quinzel & Dick Grayson Where: Somewhere beyond the sea. When: Last year, summer. What: Harleen bought Dick as a date for a charity auction where they will be on a cruise together for several days. Rating: PG-13, for now. Status: Complete.
Harleen had instinctively bought Dick as a date the moment she had saw him up on that stage, looking nothing of the boy she had known. However she was like a moth to a flame with him and had a feeling it was the same situation with him. She perhaps used that to her better advantage. He had always wanted more from her than what she was willing to give to him, always feeling he was better off.
Though, of course, that same sentiment had been talked about at least once on this trip so far. Before they boarded they had a couple of days to get their things together and for her to explain the million dollar drop on a small cruise and a charity to her father. He was receptive to it and apparently the bold move had made him more clients so he had sloughed it out and even wanted her to go to those sorts of things for him more now, especially as a certified doctor.
She did have a nice distraction with Dick as he had texted her several times before the date to ensure she wasn't going to back out on him. Harleen had kept her word and arrived fashionably late as always, much to the relief of her date for the next few days.
The first night was awkward in a since, at least until they had begun to drink. That always seemed to loosen their hidden agendas or even those hidden regrets or desires. The next day they didn't even leave their room and had taken all their meals behind closed doors.
However day two of the cruise was spent relaxing. Right now it was a beautiful sunny day in the middle of the ocean. There was some kind of gambling going on in the main recreation room and a brunch being handled downstairs. Harleen, however, had dodged those bullets and decided to seek a little alone time.
Up top the boat she was laid out on a chair sunbathing. There was little covering her, just a little black bikini with ties on the side and on the back. She was also donning a pair of black aviators. To the side of the chair sat a wrap for when she was done, some lotion, and a drink likely of the alcoholic nature but she wasn't going to fess up.
She had been listening to music, as an iPod laid in her hand with connected ear buds placed firmly in her ears to block out all the noise. To anyone else, she was dead to the world.