Despite the tone, or maybe because of it, Harley rolled her eyes. Not that that cop could see it. He was too busy being an idiot, apparently.
“Hey, copper, tell me this,” she asked in a deceptively friendly tone. “How’m I s’posed to let go, when you’re the one holding me? Huh? How’s that gonna work? You’re just gonna drop me. I gotta hold on.”
In a barely muttered undertone she added, “Knew you were dumb the first time I saw you.”
But she did stop struggling. Not for him, because really, who did he think he was, bullying her like that? Jerk. No, she stopped because the kid was trying to pull them apart, and Harley didn’t actually want her to get hurt. She sort of surprised herself; she honestly liked the kid, and obviously Firekeeper was the kind that was gonna step in. Harl would have to talk to her about that. Sometimes, that wasn’t a real hot idea.
Especially with nut jobs. Like the cop. Harley snorted. Let go. And people said she had issues.
“’Sides,” she added as she dangled there, “if I let go, I’m gonna slide down the wall. I’ll get a friction burn. An’ I bet you’re not gonna kiss it and make it better, are ya, pal? So how ‘bout this. You step away from the wall, let me go, and I’ll get off.
“That’s reasonable, ain’t it?” she asked the girl, and the wolf she supposed, in a blatant bid for brownie points. “That’s fair.”