He couldn't stop thinking that this entire thing was really wrong. And he couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to turn on him at any moment. But he also couldn't bring himself to attack somebody who was hugging him. Or, as it had become, clinging to him like a colorful monkey.
"Almost everything moves." He nodded. "There are a few things that don't, but they're the exception, not the rule."
The fact that she'd stolen pillows for a hideout told him that she wasn't some new Harley or some alternate reality Harley who he worked with. She was the same old girl, just acting a little too grateful for his company than he particularly liked.
"I've been here a while. As for people we know..." He was caught off guard by a woosh of air by his ear and then a wad of something sticky hitting the side of his face. He turned, Harley still attached to him, to face what turned out to be Joker colored butterfly people.
They weren't actually butterflies, he could tell right away. Just men dressed up as such.
This whole evening was turning out to be more than a little bit abnormal.
What was he supposed to do? Fight them while hanging onto Harley? Put her down and risk her attacking him from behind? Trust that she'd fight with him against these unknown assailants?
Really, there was no good choice here.
Wrapping one arm around her so that she wouldn't fall, Bruce readied himself for further attack.