Homelands Pt. 09 Ch. 01

"Oh, I knew you was jokin' wid me, Green," she said. "I ain't once bought the Brooklyn Bridge, though Mister Jay's tried-uh sell itta me tons o' times." With that, she gave herself an emphatic nod of approval.

Cahill could do nothing but stare. This woman sounded nothing like his mother, however much she might have looked like her. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Or, more accurately, wasn't sure it was okay that he was as fascinated as he was. But he was fascinated. She was too dangerous to be cute, but that was exactly what he thought of her all the same.

Damn cute, actually.

Fi went up on tiptoes and gave their mother a kiss on the cheek, her green lips pressing ever so gently against that whiter-than-white skin. "No one sees past the leaves," she whispered. "All the way down to the roots."

He wondered if Brittany heard that. He might not have, if he hadn't enhanced his hearing. Just as he wouldn't have seen the kiss if he hadn't activated his bat-vision.

"No one but me," Fi finished.

A smile came and went, a flash in the pan. Then Caronwyn said, "Ya mean B-man?" To punctuate the question, she folded her hands together at the thumbs and wiggled her fingers, the way children did when using a flashlight to form shadow bats against the wall.

"Who else?" Brittany asked, planting a hand on her hip. Her eyes flicked quickly left then right as if unsure whether they were alone. Which of course they weren't, but she didn't know that. At least, he didn't think so. At any rate, the surreptitious scan of the greenhouse seemed to allay her fears. "There's only one man who's ever gotten in our way."

"And how exactly did our caped friend find anything out?" Fiona asked. Her eyelids fluttered, the look of someone just a bit out of it. As if. Woe be unto anyone who thought this Poison Ivy capable of wilting. "He didn't maybe overhear you blabbing about it to someone or anything, did he?"

"Ooooh, we shouldna told her, should we?" Caronwyn asked.

Cahill almost thought he heard genuine surprise in her voice. Of course, with Harley Quinn, there was no telling what was sincere and what wasn't. She'd always been depicted as relatively straightforward. Almost childlike in her credulity and excitability. But no one could be as simpleminded as she appeared to be, least of all a former psychiatrist.

Fiona's mouth tightened. Cahill could almost hear her ask, "We?" But neither that word nor any other passed through her green lips.

"Nevermind how he knows," Catwoman said. "Point is, you've gotta tell the Joker."

Like she was telling them about Two-Face?

Not that he was siding with Harley or anything. Because that would be weird, given what he'd come here to do. It was just that his mother was breathing new life into a character who was already a bit more interesting than your average villain's sidekick.

And they weren't their characters.

He gave his head an admonishing shake. His glamours were almost working too well.

"He's not going to like hearing this," Fiona said. Eyeing Caronwyn out of the corner of her eye, she added, "Probably try to take it out on someone."

"You don't get it," came the reply, in a voice that broke Cahill's heart. He had to remind himself that it wasn't his mother speaking those words, but Harley Quinn. A violent criminal trapped in an abusive relationship with a sadistic psychopath. A woman who was herself responsible for so much suffering that it was hard to say she deserved better. Not to mention the fact that she was fictitious. "Sides, he'll be even angrier if we don't tell 'im."

"Tell me what?" Seamus asked, stepping out from behind a tall bush one row over. He over-enunciated the last part, pronouncing the W. He leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back, the way he might if he was inspecting some of Poison Ivy's exotic plants. If he'd been there the whole time, he'd have to know what they were talking about. But he did a good job of playing the part of man who was struggling to conceal his anger over being left in the dark. "What will I be angry if you don't tell me, Pumpkin Pie?"

Fiona's hand fell away from their mother's waist. She took a small step towards the nearest row of plants, putting a little distance between herself and the Joker's sweetie.

"Oh, hiya Puddin'," Caronwyn said, fretting at her lower lip. "It's nuttin'. Just that lousy Batsy-Watsy trynna ruin our fun. As always."

"Is he now?" Seamus asked, moving towards their mother on freakishly long legs. It was a wonder the venom dripping from his tongue didn't leave pock marks in the floor. "And how does he know we're back in town, my little minx?" There was a bloodthirsty glee in his eyes, and none of it directed at anyone but Harley.

"I surely don't know," Caronwyn said, twirling one of her pigtails. A wicked smile spread across her lips. "Couldna been the Cat. I know that, I know that."

"You bi-" Brittany began, reaching for something in her belt.

That was when Cahill leapt into the fray.

#

Brittany's Catwoman got away again, as did Fiona/Poison Ivy. Had she cared to, Harley would have as well. Cahill's attention had been entirely on Seamus, after all, seeing as there was no way he was going to let the his brother lay a hand on their mother, no matter how in keeping it would have been with his character. But, as Harley herself would have, his mother had stuck around and tried to keep any harm from befalling her precious puddin'.

After tossing the two of them into separate cells, he'd been tempted to start the interrogations. Starting, of course, with Harley Quinn. But Gotham's Dark Knight couldn't let Catwoman and Poison Ivy roam the streets freely like that. He wasn't sure his sisters posed any real threat to Savannah, even under glamours that had them convinced they were criminal masterminds, but it would be too out of character for him to ignore them. And once he stopped playing things straight, the others would start regaining their memories. It wouldn't be until they harvested some energy that they shook free of the glamours entirely, of course, but bits and pieces would start returning before that. And he didn't want that to happen. Not until he'd had a chance to question them.

He had to remember that was the point of all this. No matter how good his mother and his sisters looked in their costumes. No matter how much fun they'd all have together after the world's greatest detective did his thing.

So he hit the streets a third time. Just as Batman would have.

If it took him less time to round up the remaining bad guys than it would have the caped crusader, well, that was okay. No one had seen him flying and teleporting. They couldn't have, since he'd melted into darkness so thoroughly. Though it had never been suggested that there was anything supernatural about it, Batman was known for appearing out of nowhere. True, Catwoman was pretty slippery herself, but it wasn't the first time Gotham's Dark Knight had gotten the drop on her. And she'd already eluded him twice that evening.

Not twenty minutes after tossing his brother into a cell, Cahill locked his sisters up. He probably ought to have given them strip searches first, but he settled for patting them down.

Twice. Just to be sure.

"Why the limp, Bats?" Seamus asked from the depths of his cell. He sat on the floor in the corner, away from the moonlight. It took Cahill a moment to see what he was doing with his hand. The fucker was worrying at his teeth with a toothpick he shouldn't have had on him now that Cahill had forced him to empty his pockets. "If I had anything to do with that, you have my sincerest apologies."

"On your feet," he growled at The Joker. The women could wait.

"Is it time for my phone call?"

Cahill was almost surprised that it didn't take a fight to get his brother into the interrogation room. In fact, to the extent that Seamus made things difficult for Cahill, it was only by performing his best impersonation of a wet noodle. A laughing wet noodle.

"Who's trying to let Titania al Ghul and her League of Dreamsmyths into Gotham?" he demanded, taking a little liberty with the source material.

"That cunt?" his brother asked, doing the same. The Joker never swore, but the moment that hateful word passed through his brother's painted lips, he realized how striking it was that he didn't. It wouldn't be fitting to have that sort of language appearing in kids books and cartoons, of course, but the mortal world had somehow decided that kids could be exposed to domestic abuse. Go figure. "Why would I want anything to do with her?"

"You both want the same thing. To destroy the-"

Before he could finish, his brother threw his head back in hysterical laughter. The sound of it reverberated off the close walls, filling the room.

"Please. You're better than that," he said at last, as calmly as you please.

Cahill drew a deep breath. Too much improvisation, perhaps. "She wants a new order. The city will burn before she establishes it, but order is order, and you thrive on chaos."

Seamus tapped a finger against his elongated nose.

"Tell me what who is working with her, then, and I'll consider letting you-"

"Oh, puh-lease," his brother cut in. "You're no more a fan of compromise than I am of order, Bats. If we're going to chat, let's not insult each other's intelligence."

Cahill slammed a fist on the table. Seamus flinched a bit, perhaps out of genuine surprise, then made a show of wiping his shirt off while wearing a look of mild distaste.

"Tell me!" Cahill snapped.

"Tsk tsk," Seamus said, wagging a finger. "How bout a game?"

He wasn't going to get anywhere with intimidation. Granted, it wasn't clear there was anywhere to get, but it wouldn't kill him to play along for just a little while. He gestured quickly, begrudgingly, for The Joker to continue.

"You tell me how many fingers you're willing to lose, and I give you that many hints." A wicked grin split his face, unnaturally white teeth glittering beneath the low-hanging lamp.

"Fuck off," Batman said, kicking his chair back.

It was tempting to knock some of those pearly whites in, but he had to remember that his brother wasn't in control. And that it was his brother's face he'd briefly considered transforming into a bloody wreck. So he simply dragged the guy back to his cell. The bastard didn't stop laughing once, not even to draw breath.

He decided to try Two-Face next, but he was no more useful. True to form, he'd decided that his coin should decide for him whether he'd cooperate. And it had even favored doing so. But the only thing his cousin knew was that neither he nor Catwoman were involved.

Though he knew she couldn't possibly know anything either, he brought his mother into the interrogation room next. The whole exercise was starting to feel futile. If the only thing he was going to get out of it was the opportunity to add a little spice to their love life, he didn't want to waste any more time getting there. And whatever thoughts he might have had about them beforehand, a waste of time was exactly what he saw his sisters as now. He needed Caronwyn. Anything else, anyone was, would just be an obstacle in his path.

"Well, well, well, B-man," she said as she threw herself into the chair, making it seem as though he'd pushed her a lot harder than he had. "Who knew you liked it rough?"

He tried not to focus on how sexy she sounded with that voice.

Irritating. That's what it was. Not sexy.

"What do you know about-"

"Alls I knows 's what Mister Jay tells me," she declared. Yet her smug smile quickly turned into a self-pitying frown. "But he don't tell me nuttin'. Not even when I'm good."

"When are you good?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like ta know?" she asked, giving him a look that nearly stopped his heart. That makeup looked so better on her than it should have.

Cahill leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I do know, Harley. You're much better than he gives you credit for."

Her eyes widened for a moment before she turned her face into a mask. "You ain't gettin' the time o' day from me, B-man. Best go bark up another cave."

"Tree?"

"Do bats live in trees now?" she asked.

Cahill slapped a hand over his face. After all the concern that his glamours might not work well enough to keep them from accessing their powers, he was beginning to think that maybe he'd buried their true selves too deep.

"How bout a game?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound a little like the Joker's, but only a little. Enough to get some resonance without putting her on the defensive.

"What kinda game?" she asked, turning her head sideways and peering at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not sure I like games."

Cahill's lips slowly curved into a smile. Hers followed suit.

"Okay, okay," she said, slapping the table. "Spill it already! I'm dyin' over here."

He pushed his chair back and slowly crossed over to her side of the table. Her mismatched eyes didn't blink once. When he lifted her up out of her chair and placed her on the table, she pressed her teeth into her lower lip, but said not a word. Even as he undid her handcuffs with a few deft movements, she held her tongue.

When he spread her legs apart and bunched her skirt up by her waist, though, she broke her silence. "Uh, Bats? Whachya doin'?"

That wasn't trepidation in her voice. Not only, anyway.

"Shh," he said, pushing on her shoulder until she was forced to splay her hands out on the table behind her to keep from falling flat on her back.

He ripped her panties off with his teeth.

"Oh dear," Harley said, though she dropped the post-vocalic r. A fit of giggles followed. "This is the part where I say 'No, don't,' and all that jazz." She stroked Cahill's mask as if running fingers through his hair. "Seems I've forgotten my line, though."

Slowly, Cahill began pleasuring his mother. His tongue had never moved so slowly, so deliberately. With each stroke, he elicited the most delightful sounds. A long, soft swipe along her outer labia brought a shudder. A quick jab of the tongue against her magic button brought out some colorful language. He could listen to her and that voice all day. Half the things she muttered would have struck any other man as more amusing than arousing, but to his ears, it was all honey.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he noted that her taste hadn't changed. She might not sound like Caronwyn, but she had the right body. And all that came with it.

It took some effort to stop himself short when he felt her approaching an orgasm. He wanted so desperately to feel her legs tighten against the sides of his head. To hear her gasp and grunt as she shuddered her way through a modest climax. Or better yet, hear her scream her way through a violent one, hips thrusting up at him and fist pounding the table.

But, for the time being, he was still Batman and she was still Harley Quinn. He was on the side of law and order, while she lived a life of crime. And she just might have information that he needed to keep the city safe. He needed some leverage over her.

And what better way to do that than to deny her that sweet release?

As he pulled away, she gasped. Then, upon realizing that it wasn't a temporary interruption meant to build suspense, she howled in protest and beat him about the head.

Chuckling to himself, Cahill seized her wrists. "Now," he said calmly. "If you'd like me to finish, you'll tell me what you know."

He'd known from her Libido that she was good and riled up, but he hadn't been sure how well it would show through her disguise. The color in her otherwise white cheeks and the dilation of her pupils were unmistakeable though. He smiled a little wider.

"Not interested?" he asked.

"Please," she panted.

"I'd love to," Cahill replied. "I really would. But first you've got to talk."

She tried forcing him back down between her legs. It was no use. Though his mother wasn't weak, he'd been stronger than his build suggested even before he turned into Batman.

So she tried a different tack.

Pressing her multicolored lips to his, his mother kissed him into orgasm.

She shouldn't have been able to do that. Shouldn't have remembered the abilities she possessed as a woman of the fey. But if anyone was going to surprise him by breaking through his glamour prematurely, it only made sense for it to be his mother.

Cahill stumbled back, falling into the chair she'd occupied a few minutes ago.

"Mmm," his mother moaned throatily, in her own voice.

Had he thought the way Harley spoke was sexy? Crazy talk. There was a certain appeal to it. Born of novelty. But his mother's voice, like everything else about her, was perfect.

"Thanks for that," she said, eyes closed and chest heaving as she breathed deeply. "I can feel the pieces starting to fall back into place."

"You weren't supposed to remember so soon," he said.

She gave him that disapproving yet dismissive look that all mothers master. "Don't be ridiculous," she might have said, except there was no need. Her expression said it all.

Cahill rested one hand on an ankle while the other cupped a nicely rounded calf. He stared up at her with what he hoped were plaintive, rather than sulking, eyes. "

"If you knew something, you'd tell me, right?"

His mother reached down and caressed as much of his cheek as his mask allowed.

But she didn't answer.

"Right?" he asked, a little more forcefully.

"Sweetie," she said. "Why don't you finish what you started? Maybe I'll return the favor when you're done. Or let you have your way with me on this table. I'll even keep this silly outfit on. Wouldn't you like that?"

He would indeed. But he couldn't help noticing that she'd sidestepped his simple question twice in a row, deploying a classic fey tactic for avoiding a lie.

"Mom," he said, rising. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me."

"It's nothing," she said.

"Doesn't sound like it." He gave her a small kiss, but it wasn't the sort of kiss that led to something more. Just something to defuse the tension.

She held his gaze for a time, then sighed. "It's about Gallech."

"What about him?" he asked.

Her hand fell from his face to his shoulder as her eyes, brown once more, fell away to the floor. "He's not himself. Hasn't been for a long time."

"I know. He's so much better than he used to be. Him and Reilly both," Cahill said. Then he saw where she was going. "Except they're not, are they?"

She shrugged. "I guess. It's been nice to see them stop acting like adolescents. But I...I'm not sure they're in control of themselves."

Cahill's blood cooled.

"No, no, I shouldn't have said that," his mother rushed to add, pressing a finger to his lips. "I don't know if he is or isn't. It's just...something I saw earlier today, when I performed a divination, put that idea in my head."

He took hold of her hips, just because he couldn't be that close to her and not have his hands on her, but otherwise did nothing to interrupt.

"I was trying to figure out who was sabotaging the glamours. Of course, I didn't get a direct answer to that. But I did get something. I think."

"You think?"

She gave him a quick kiss, just because. "I don't know. We've been away from Faerie so long, and I don't wear my fey form all that often. I never really was a druidess."

He frowned. "I know, ma."

A wan smile. "Of course. Anyway, it's different now because I'm not really committed to the illusion. So I'm not sure if I can trust the reading. Or if it even was one. For all I know, my imagination is playing tricks on me." A pause. "He asked me to have his baby."

"In the divination?" Cahill asked, confused.

"No," she said. "A few years ago. And a few years before that. Many times, in fact. But not recently. At some point, I guess he gave up."