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Harley's Heroine Heist	By : solddate Category: DC Verse Comics > Birds Of Prey Views: 79413 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Birds of Prey and all related characters belong to DC Comics as do all characters included in this story. This is a non-profit series written by several individuals who gained no profit for writing the chapters for which they are credited.

Chapter List
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- 25
Chapter contributed by : RubberLotus

"Explain this to me again," Oswald Cobblepot groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched his cheerfully maniacal friend set up what looked like a cluster of eight television monitors.
The Joker gave a loud, overly dramatic sigh. "Pengers, I worry about you sometimes. Time was, you'd have snapped this up quick as a quail! You sure that all this "going straight" business hasn't gone to that birdbrain of yours?"
"Humor me."
"Oh, all right. Look, I just got out of Arkham, so I'm in need of some new muscle. And Harley's lost and scared without me, so I need someone to find her. So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone."
The Penguin ignored the obvious tack against his feathered friends. "And pray tell, where do coleslaw, the Orwellian gadgetry, and I come in?"
"You've got the most secure place in the city here. I need the monitors to keep up with the auditions. And as for the slaw, I promised Croc a nice little meal of Bat wings, and have you ever heard of eating that without slaw?! I swear, kids these days... bunch of uncultured philistines... no breeding at all..."
That last comment made the Penguin clench his fists, but he slowly relaxed himself.
He was sorely tempted, but throwing his unwelcome guest out would be more trouble than it was worth - for now, anyways - and in any case, the Joker was correct on the first count. The two of them were currently inside a "panic room" that he had constructed beneath the Iceberg Lounge's foundations, and it was outfitted with all the necessities that a panic room for a man of his station called for. Beds. Sofas. First aid. Fully-stocked fridge and minibar. A dozen emergency weapons, ranging from a dinky little .22 handgun to a truly fearsome elephant rifle. Walls that had been soundproofed, bulletproofed, and X-ray-vision-proofed...
The Joker finished up the last touches on the cluster of monitors, and plopped himself down on the sofa next to his long-nosed companion. With a flick of his wrist, he made a small, black remote control appear in his hand.
"Now, let's get back to Green-Skinned Goddesses and the Mercenaries Who Pick Fights with Them..."
There was a click sound, and all eight monitors popped to life. The Joker quickly zeroed in on one in particular: the one currently displaying - among other things - a man clad in all silver and red, a man dressed in a skintight costume with several canisters strapped to his back, and an unconscious redheaded woman with green skin.
Oh, and an angry Batman.
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"Wait, no! Not the face not the-"
CRUNCH.
Mitchell Mayo, also known as the Condiment King, promptly crumpled the ground like a badly-built house of cards.
The Great White Shark internally winced at the sound, but kept his body completely still. Lady Luck was already smiling on him - he had just been slammed in the face with a boot that had somewhere around two hundred pounds of force behind it, and he was somehow still conscious. The Bat, evidently believing that the stomp had been enough to KO him, had turned his attention to his two hapless cohorts - and he wasn't in that big a hurry to correct the vigilante nutcase.
Right now, he was still splayed on the ground, face toward the sky. He could hear the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown just two or three feet away - apparently, Deadshot hadn't bailed on them, despite being the furthest away from the Bat's initial landing point.
He resolved to send the assassin a basket of muffins... Once he was far, far away from all this madness and on the next flight from Gotham to Cancun. Tracking down Quinn was one thing, and being in the Joker's "employ" was another, but there was no paycheck or threat in the world big enough to make him go head-to-head with the Bat.
Now he had just one problem: how to get out of here without the Bat coming after his hide. If he so much as sneezed, he could probably kiss his chances goodbye. Standing up was out of the question...
"Shark."
Perhaps he could roll away... but wouldn't that make more noise...?
"Shark."
He had to think of something quick. Last he checked, Deadshot wasn't exactly renowned for his hand-to-hand prowess, though White had no doubt that the assassin was many light years ahead of himself and the Condiment King. It was a miracle that he was holding off the Bat for even this long.
"Shark!"
Warren's ears finally caught onto the voice hissing his alias venomously. It took him another few seconds to place its owner, and to remember exactly what she was doing here.
"Isley?" he whispered. "What the hell do you-"
"Quiet, you fool!" Ivy seethed quietly from her place on her side a few feet away from Warren, power binding collar still around her throat to the green skin beauty's evident ire. "I want what you want, little man! To be gone from this fight! If you want even the slightest chance of achieving that, then I suggest you release me from this collar! Now!"
A horrible, horrible sort of feeling entered the Shark's brain and stomach at that thought. "Oh, no..." he mumbled, barely able to hear his own voice.
"Think, you idiot!" Ivy shot back sternly, White's gaze following hers as she glanced to the ailing efforts of Deadshot in the face the Dark Knight's onslaught. "He isn't going to last another minute! Release me and I will have my babies distract the Bat so we can make our escape. Even if I bother to hold a grudge against you for earlier, tonight I only want to be gone. You have my word." The villainess argued, before adding further when the man hesitated under her mad glare, "Possible freedom, or certain Bat food! What's it going to be, Fish?"
Shark scowled at the casual use of his former nickname, dubbed on him during his freshman days at Arkham Asylum. The other nuts always seemed to find it amusing to taunt him with it, but this wasn't the time for that. The gears beneath his skull spun furiously, making the cost-benefit analyses that his old job so often called upon.
Then he heard another loud CRUNCH, and knew that his last current line of defense was no more. Seconds later, he heard a cold, harsh voice speak.
"Kidnapping, Floyd? Not your usual area of expertise. Who sent you?"
In that instant, the Shark made his decision.
"Bull Tiger Whitetip Hammerhead."
He heard Ivy make a noise of confusion, but he couldn't care less. Those four words represented the deadliest shark species in the world, excluding his own moniker. And spoken in that particular combination, they created the custom password...
SSssssss...
... to unlocking Ivy's collar.
As soon as the hiss faded, he sprang to his feet, all caution tossed to the wind. Even if Ivy did keep her word and focused all her attention on Batman, rather than her would-be kidnappers, he still had no desire to be in the middle of that particular brawl.
Sucking in a large breath, he began to sprint away from the oncoming storm. Unfortunately, a green-skinned leg immediately appeared in his path, and sent him unceremoniously crashing to the ground again. Only this time, his face was pressed to the dirt.
"You backstabbing b-!" Warren began to snarl, but was cut off before he could finish as the concrete beneath his feet was ripped apart from below. Within seconds, all of the crook's limbs were bound and wrapped within several large, thick roots that had spawned from below.
"Watch your language, Fish." A cold voice sneered down at him. Lifting his head, Warren just managed to see a pair of bare green feet stride past him with speed and purpose. "Or I'll introduce my babies to sushi next we meet." Then she was gone, leaving White in the bed he had made.
Deadshot was out. Condiment King was out. Shark himself might as well have been out. And their would-be quarry was gone to the wind. The only thing that stood between them and a cozy jail cell was Batman's interrogation...
"Aw, crap..." Warren let his head go limp in dismay as Batman's imposing figure moved in front of him. Idly, he wondered what their prospective employer would say if he could see their merry band now.
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"BAH!"
There was a noise akin to a truck backfiring, followed by the sizzle that could only be expected to follow the smashing of live electronics. A faint hint of smoke soon filled the small, cozy, soundproofed, bulletproofed, lead-lined room.
A purple-gloved hand lowered, taking with it a smoking pistol. Its owner leveled a dry, unamused look at the cluster of monitors before him - seven were still displaying, while the eighth was now a smoking, sizzling pile of circuits and plastic.
"Worst. Pilot. Ever," the Joker growled. "And I've seen Heil Honey, I'm Home!"
His companion, however, had far bigger worries on his mind. Worries that he immediately expressed by turning to the Ace of Knaves. "Joker, was the dark gentleman showing up there and then a part of your plan?"
The Joker tucked his pistol away and put a thoughtful finger to his chin. "A third of me says it was. A third of me says it wasn't."
"And the remaining third...?"
"Wants a tangerine. Or a ruby the size of a tangerine. I'm kinda flexible that way."
"Joker, this is serious!" the Penguin snapped. "Do they know where you are right now?"
"They think they know where I am right now. But they don't know that I know that they think they know where I am right now. And lemme give you a hint: it's not here."
"Wait... they think... you..." the Penguin tried to seize the chain of thought, and decided that it wasn't worth the effort. "The point is, none of them will lead the Batman here, will they?"
"Unless one of them turned into a psychic in the last couple of hours, I doubt it."
"Good. So we're safe from him."
"Right-a-roonie! As long as he inexplicably decides to not trace those nano-cameras I stuck in their clothing back to their emitting source."
"Yes, as long as he... WHAT?!"
The small, round man sprang to his feet, panic in every inch of his face. He briefly glanced at the two remaining monitors covering Team B - both of which were displaying Batman engaged in a fierce battle against Poison Ivy. One that Batman could very well win. The long-nosed man then turned to face the Joker, eyes wide.
"Please don't tell me I just heard that."
"You didn't just hear that. Also, he'll probably decide to trace those nano-cameras I stuck in their clothing back to their emitting source," the Joker replied tartly. Then, his ever-present smile grew far crueler. "And on that note, I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for some shark fin soup..."
Before the Penguin could reply, the Ace of Knaves flipped open a hidden panel inside his remote control, revealing eight buttons inside. He punched three of them at the same time.
Something - perhaps an instinct, perhaps intuition - told the Penguin to turn his attention back toward the cluster of monitors. A second later, he heard three hideous shouts. All three given in different voices, but all conveying the same message.
"FIRE!!!"
The short, portly man watched on with grotesque wonder - and perhaps a small measure of schadenfreude - as the Joker's three prospective enforcers all burst into flames, screaming their lungs out all the while. Shortly afterward, two of the monitors faded to black, leaving no doubt as to where the fire had come from.
"Remote-controlled self-combustion capabilities," the Joker chuckled. "Never settle for less."
The Penguin clapped slowly, an impressed smile spreading over his face. "An excellent show, old friend. But that last crack about the soup..."
In response, the Joker gave him a sly grin. "Don't you know? Batsy's mini-extinguisher only carries enough to cover one sap. Two, tops. And if you'll recall, there's a perfectly good fire hydrant waiting a couple of feet away from dear old Warren..."
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Poison Ivy grit her teeth as she sprinted away from Batman, and away from the smell of fire and smoke. She would certainly have liked to stay back and give the caped chauvinist his due, and enjoy the sweet, sweet music of three more men being burnt alive while she was at it, but she had no time for that.
Harley came first. Harley always came first.
She had caught snippets of the three idiots' conversations. And she was certain that they had mentioned "Quinn" at least once. There was only one Quinn that she was familiar with, and only one Quinn that anyone would connect with her. There was someone after Harley, and she would bet her left arm that that someone happened to have green hair, chalk-white skin, and a stupid grin too big for his own good.
With a growl, she put on an extra burst of speed and charged back into the wrecked, abandoned greenhouse that had been serving as her hideout until tonight. A snap of her fingers had a small vine snake down from the ceiling, carrying with it a cell phone.
Quickly, she snatched up the phone and dialed, praying that the last number that Harley had given her was still good.
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Grinning lecherously, Harley Quinn circled her confused captive with glee before moving in to press her front firmly against the bound heroine's back. Cupping her hands over Batwoman's well-formed breasts, Harley groped and squeezed Kate's rack playfully. While her new toy might not have the rack of a Starr, or even a Sugah, Harley just loved how the once stonefaced Batwoman was moaning desperately from her skilled touch.
If Kate had hoped that her costume would act as some kind of barrier to the electric sensations of her captor's magic touch, she was happily mistaken. Her skintight red & black costume, the costume she could not deny she had worn for her Mistress' approval, offered no obstacle to the madwoman's fingers. In fact, now that Kate thought about it, it enhanced the experience! Batwoman, the serious and cold persona she had created with the subconscious goal of earning Mistress Harley's attention, covered her body up, making her appear "proper" to the world, all the while actually leaving her vulnerable to her Mistress' skilled hands.
"Mmm... hubba hubba!" Harley giggled, rubbing her thumbs over Kate's stiffened nipples, which were now poking against the fabric quite nicely. "This is some Grade-A titty right here, Katie!"
"Th-thank you, Mistress Harley," Kate breathed. "I t-OHHHHHH!!!"
Harley grinned. She had ignored Kate's reply, instead focusing on closing her thumb and forefinger to give Kate's left nipple a gentle pinch. Well, gentle from Harley's perspective. From Kate's, it was more of a ravaging bolt of pleasure striking down on the sensitive nub.
The madwoman shot her redheaded prey a teasing, coy look. "Like that, don't you, my little Batwhore?" She asked, kissing the unmasked heroine's exposed, pale white cheek. Leaving Kate's back and walking around her to stand in front of her, Harley couldn't help smirking wider as the redhead tried to move with her. The mind bent slave trying anything to be closer to her Mistress despite the chains still holding her arms above her head.
Batwoman's response came in the form of shallow, rapid gasps for breath, her tongue hanging out of her open mouth as she gazed longingly at the magically attractive blonde. Lost in the heat of her arousal, Katethe redhead soon felt a warm dampness rapidly spreading between her thighs, trapped beneath her tight costume, teasing her cunt in oh so wicked and wonderful ways.
"Puh-please... M-Mistress Harley..."
"Please what?" Harley grinned at the broken woman, she was so happy she'd removed Batwoman's cowl. It meant she could look directly into those teary, joy-filled eyes as her new pet panted like a bitch in heat. "Please don't stop? Please kiss me again? Please free my hands so I can finger fuck myself like the crazed slut you want me to be? Please fuck my brains out with a twelve-inch vibrating double dildo?"
"Puh-please take my clothes off first..." Kate moaned, her thighs rubbing together. "It's SO HOT under here!"
Harley looked at the helpless heroine in surprise for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. "Oh, this is TOO good! The high and mighty detective wants the hot and slutty criminal to strip her down so she can show off her wet pussy!?"
Kate felt her face heating up, from what little dignity and self-respect as a heroine she had left. However, her shame, ironically, only served to make her even more aroused. The new, perverse and loyally devoted part of her delighted in how her Mistress was degrading her once-uptight and serious self.
"Well, you can forget it!" Harley suddenly snapped, her grin turning downright evil. "You're still the good girl here and I'm definitely still the bad, so very bad girl! So tell me, my dear lil' Katie," the insane blonde teased. "Am I supposed ta make ya feel comfy?"
Kate stared at her Mistress in shock, before slowly shaking her head from side to side.
"Well, not yet anyway," Harley nodded to herself, pleased, before locking eyes with Kate again. "Besides... haven't you ever wondered what it would feel like to cum inside those fancy pajamas?"
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Harley cut her off with a quick peck on the lips. Then she pulled back and began to look over Kate's chest again.
"Well, I have, and believe me, pet, it feels as fuckin' right as being naked in the rain!" Harley hummed, biting her lip as she ran a gloved hand over her own costume's damp crotch. "So mark my words, Katie, I'm gonna make you cum... And then, I'm gonna make ya cum again... And again, and again, and again... All the while every drop of ya sweet nectar is gonna be sealed in that lil' slut suit o' yours!"
The madwoman licked her lips, enjoying the look of mixed excitement and horror on Kate's face.
"Keeps in all the flavor, y'know what I mean? Just like ma's kreplachs..."
At the mention of food, Kate heard her stomach rumble. Despite her denial of Harley's earlier taunts, it really had been quite a while since she'd last eaten.
Harley simply giggled at the helpless vigilante, before arranging her mouth into a perfect "O" and wrapping her lips around Kate's left nipple. With a lascivious yet determined look on her face, she starting sucking on the hard nub for all she was worth, teasing it through the fabric with her lips and her tongue alike.
"OH! OHHHHHHHHH!!!" Kate gasped. "OH! M-Mistress..." The redhead pleaded as she felt her Mistress begin to apply pressure with her teeth. "P-please be gen... AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Kate's screams of ecstasy were music to Harley's ears. The jester then worked her hand between Kate's clamped thighs, running her fingers up and down the pale woman's slit through the wet crotch of her uniform. However, the trained psychologist noticed one particular pressure point near the top of the dampness that made her new angel shiver in delight.
And so, smiling wickedly around her captive's tit, Harley Quinn pulled her hand back and brought her middle finger and thumb together... And flicked Batwoman's clit.
With a truly thunderous scream, Kate Kane came.
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Edit/N: This is a combination of two chapters written by Clifford.cao with some edits from myself given my overly controlling habits. My main edits came in the scene between Harley and Batwoman, but I altered no plot points and give full credit to Cliff, who is also the listed poster of this chapter 'RubberLotusShipper'. Let us know what you think.
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Harley's Heroine Heist