The last thing Harley expected was for the door to move that quickly as she jerked. It was akin to having somebody let go of the other end of a taught rope, and the results were the same. The petite blonde fell backwards, completely off balance.
Her innate grace came to the rescue, and she turned the tumble into a reverse summersault. It saved her head from smacking against the floor, but unfortunately, she ran out of bathroom before the maneuver was completely. Her shoulder struck the base of the toilet hard enough to produce a softly hollow whumping sound. Whether that was the porcelain or her bone, Harley wasn’t sure, but her odds were on her shoulder. Because that freakin’ hurt!
She gave a little grunt of pain, but immediately scrambled to her feet, ready for whatever else the cop might have in store. He was trickier than he looked! Harl was pleased with that, because it was no fun if they just rolled over and played dead. Still, she couldn’t let him think that he was getting the upper hand. He might get a little cocky. That wouldn’t do at all, no sir. With a grin and a garbled war cry (she hadn’t thought that out too much, just yelled) Harley Quinn took a running start and launched herself at the cop, intending to tackle him. She might be little, but she was scrappy.
Except somehow between her leap as she sprung towards him and actually reaching him, he moved. Harley didn’t see how he moved, whether he ducked or twisted or turned or what. She only caught onto it as she began sailing past him, over his shoulders. What she did next was not thought out, it was simply instinct borne of experience. Fall off enough buildings, or occasionally get shoved, and you learned how to grab onto something to stop your descent.
So that was exactly what she did, she grabbed. Harley didn’t just grab with her hands though. That just got you rope burns and a hard impact when you hit the ground anyway. No, she grabbed with fingers and hands and arms and legs. Her arms went very naturally around his torso from behind, and she automatically tightened her legs. With her knees on his shoulders, her calves were pressed against his ears. It wasn’t an ideal position, and she blamed him for it. If he hadn’t moved, if he’d let himself be tackled like a normal person, her boobs wouldn’t be squished against his butt and she wouldn’t be hanging upside down off his back. This was not fun anymore!
In a fit of frustration, Harley bobbed her head forward, biting as soon as her teeth found purchase. It was only as she was shaking her head back and forth like a little terrier, and growling in a similar fashion, that she realized she didn’t get anything but material. She wasn’t biting him, just his pant leg. That tore it. Her head began whipping back and forth in earnest as she tried to make the seam tear so she could get at skin. Then she was gonna bite him dammit. That’d teach him to duck when he was just supposed to stand there and take it.