Sara Lance (taer_alsafer) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-06-17 14:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, harley quinn, sara lance (white canary) |
Who: Harley and Sara
What: Girls night and Never Have I Ever
When: Recently
Where: A bar
Ratings/Warnings: Low/none, some sexual innuendo
Status: Complete
Sara enjoyed Harley’s company. She was different, and definitely more energetic than most of the people Sara hung out with. She reminded Sara a little of some of her favourite travelling companions.
And she was definitely more fun to hang out with when Sara could actually drink with her instead of just serving her drinks all night. The bar was loud, at least, which meant that it was likely the two of them wouldn’t be overheard, which suited Sara just fine. She knocked back one of the shots of whiskey that were lined up in front of her. “Alright,” Sara said, “Never have I ever gone streaking,” Sara said, and then of course had to take a shot because who hadn’t gone streaking before?
Laughing, Harley grabbed a shot and knocked it back in a single gulp. “Ah, the joys of bein’ stupid in college!”
Settling back, she eyed Sara, her grin only widening. “Never have I ever… gotten a tattoo I regret!”
And she didn’t drink!
Sara grimaced, and then downed her next shot. “In my defense, I was drunk in Tibet, and the tattoo artist was pretty hot,” she said.
Harley laughed again, almost kicking her feet under the table in delight; though if they were talking dreams, Harley had a number of tattoos she regretted. “Oh wait do dreams count?”
“If it’ll get you to drink, you bet your ass the dreams count,” Sara said, grinning. “What kind regretful dream tattoos did you get? Did any of them carry over?” Sara had yet to have anything from her dreams carry over - aside from a near drowning, at least - but she knew well enough from the Network that it was a fairly regular occurrence.
“Fine!” Harley knocked back a shot for the regret tattoos, then wrinkled her nose. There were a couple she’d gotten for herself, mostly after she’d left the Joker, and one for the Sirens and a couple for Pammy in particular. Those she liked.
“They all carried over, and most of them were for the guy that fucked up my head. I’ve gotten ‘em removed or drawn over with better tattoos! Can’t do anything about my skin except cover-up.”
She gestured at the whiteness of her face.
“You mean that’s not makeup?” Sara asked, a little surprised. And here she thought that Harley had just been going for a glitter goth kind of look - a look that definitely suited her. “I guess I should be thankful the bangs I have in my dreams didn’t carry over.”
“Nope! Got thrown into a vat of chemicals an’ came up white as a ghost!” Joker had wanted her to be more like him and well… she hadn’t exactly thought about objecting at the time.
Sara winced in commiseration. Say what you would about her dreams, at least she had yet to be thrown in a vat of chemicals. Had her ship sink in the middle of the South China seas, yes. Taken on by a ship run by a mad scientist where she then helped tortured other captives so that she wouldn’t get tortured and probably killed herself, yes. But bright side, there was no skin bleaching chemicals involved, and, well, at least she wasn’t being tortured.
“Never have I ever been thrown in a vat of chemicals,” she said, because Harley probably needed the drink.
Harley definitely needed the drink, and once she’d had it (and a second for good measure), she rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she tried to think of something that was both outlandish and also possible. She flashed a grin, “Never have I ever been in a threesome.”
“A Devil’s or an Angel’s threeway?” Sara asked, though she took her shot anyway. It didn’t matter much either way; she’d done both, watching from the corner of her eye to see if Harley would take a shot too. Honestly, she’d be surprised if she didn’t.
Harley laughed, taking a shot herself. “There’s a variety of positions there an’ I’ve tried all of them. It’s like puttin’ together a really fun puzzle.”
She decided to try something, wanting to share a part of her past that might send some people packing depending on how they looked at it. But better to know sooner rather than later.
“Never have I ever… been married!” And she knocked back a shot.
That was unexpected, and Sara didn’t take a shot. She wasn’t exactly the marrying type, and she had, mistakenly, it appeared, assumed that Harley was the same. But just because Harley had once been married didn’t mean that she was still married.
“Well, that brings up all sorts of questions,” Sara said, still keeping her voice light. “Been married as in past tense, or present tense?”
Harley grinned at her, hanging her arm off of the back of the chair. Like this was definitely the real test -- too many times Harley had had to fight over it, over people not understanding. But she bluntly answered, “We’re both polyamorous an’ she lives in England besides. She’s seein’ this hot French dame. I seen pictures!”
Though there were times Harley wondered if it might be best if they, legally at least, separated.
Sara smiled at the explanation. She really was relieved. There had been a time in her life when Sara wouldn’t have thought twice about sleeping with a married woman. She’d slept with her own sister’s boyfriend once they started getting serious. But that had torn her family apart, and these days, well, getting involved with someone involved wasn’t high on her priority list. At least, secretly. Getting involved with someone who was involved, if everything was out in the open…
“What about you?” Sara asked, taking a sip from one of her still full whiskey shots. “Any hot French dames in your life?”
Sara’s reaction made Harley feel a lot better. At least some people were willing to understand and accept! She shook her head, a rueful laugh escaping her lips. “Ain’t got a hot French dame in my back pocket. Got the occasional one night stand, but nothin’ all that serious.”
Harley had a lot of love to give, but there was no one to give it to. It left her feeling less than fulfilled.
“That’s too bad. It’s the language of love for a reason, after all,” Sara said. “Though, there’s nothing wrong with the occasional one-night stand. They can be more fun sometimes anyway.” ‘
“I know passable French, does that count?” Harley grinned, her expression almost a little on the crazy side. One night stands were fun anyway, and if she really wanted to admit it to herself they were safer. Problem was, Harley was good at getting attached. See one J. Mister.
“There’s fun to be had in figurin’ out what makes someone tic, but sometimes you need more than a few hours for that.”
“Oh, I’d say that more than counts,” Sara said. There was something a little disconcerting about Harley’s expression, but somehow Sara found her all the hotter for it. She leaned forward on the table, and knocked back another shot, a warm, pleasant buzz in the back of her skull. “So, how long do you think it would take you to figure out what makes me tick?” she asked.
Harley flicked her tongue out and ran it over her lips as she stared at Sara. “I might need a few hours. You know, get under your hood an’ all, run a few test drives, that sorta thin.”
“A few hours huh?” Sara asked, smiling a little. “Well, I guess you should probably take me back to your place so we can get started.” Sara might have offered her own place, but she lived with Laurel and her daughter and she was sure Laurel wouldn’t appreciate that much.
Grinning, Harley offered Sara her arm. “Hope you like hyenas an’ weiner dogs!”