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blued and purpled by romance

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The lights in their hideout were off when she returned from her little shopping spree. It's not unusual given that they want to avoid detection, but it's still a little too quiet.

"Honeys, I'm home!" she called, perhaps a bit carelessly – who knew what dangers might be lurking in the dark if her two girlfriends had fallen prey to them?

Sneaking into the living room found Ivy and Selina curled up on the sofa. The TV set provided the only source of illumination.

"What're ya watchin'?" she asked.

"The Age of Innocence," Selina answered, as if that would tell her anything.

"And what's that? Doesn't look like a porn flick to me."

"A film adaption of Edith Wharton's book of the same name."

Still unhelpful, but Harley was no longer interested.

"Ooh, pizza!" She slid over the back of the sofa to make a grab for it.

"It's tuna," Selina said, taking a bite out of her slice.

Which was entirely calculated to stop Harley in her tracks. "Ugh, I hate fish!"

"I know."

"I hate you, too."

Ivy offered her the bowl in her lap. "Kale chips?"

Harley scrunched up her nose some more and got up. "No thanks. I think I'mma call in for some Chinese. Or some Italian. Don't know yet."

Without taking her eyes off the screen, Selina waves her half-empty bottle of soda at Harley. "Get us some more drinks. We're running out."

"Sparkling water for me, please," Ivy added.

"What am I? Your butler?"


With dinner out of the way, Harley felt a lot more content. Benevolent enough even to sit down for this schmoop. Although, really, she wasn't paying attention. It was a much more riveting challenge to see if she could divert Ivy's from the screen.

Yawning, she stretched luxuriously and threw her arm around Ivy's shoulder. No reaction. Not even when Harley practically melted against her. Nope. Ivy remained upright, clutching her stupid bowl. As if anyone would wanna steal her chips.

Harley stroked along Ivy's clavicle, walked her fingers up her neck, tickled her chin. But all that achieved was Ivy lacing their hands together. Taken aback, Harley snapped her fingers in front of Ivy's face. Not a twitch. Ivy took that hand too, and squeezed it.

Well, time to be blunt then.

"Let's go upstairs," she whispered in her best love-me-tender voice.

"Girl," Ivy said in that throaty murmur that made Harley's stomach flip-flop and her knees grow weak. "I'm watching this."

Right. Because this was so much more fun than spending some quality time with Harley. She would have made it worth her while, too...

"Can't you record it to watch later?" Harley whined. Why did Ivy have to be so frustrasting? She knew Harley's tolerance was low even on the best of days, yet she insisted on being difficult. "Or get it on DVD?"

"This is a DVD."

Harley groaned. On her other side, Selina snickered. Sometimes she forgot why they even put up with each other.


Head lolling against the back of the sofa, Harley made snoring noises. How was she ever going to survive this? She was in agony. And not the good kind. She kicked up her feet as if in a knee-jerk reaction. Convulsions would be more entertaining than this.

"Boring! Where are the explosions? Car chases? Funny dialogues? Honestly, why are you watching this?"

"Scorcese," Selina offered and curled up her feet beneath her.

"What cheese now?"

"The director..." Selina said in that irritating you-gotta-be-kidding-me tone of voice. Well, excuse Harley for not caring enough about the who-is-who of tedium to be able to remember names. It was enough that she got disbelief from Ivy for not being able to recite all those ridiculously long plant names. Couldn't she use the common ones?

"Oh, okay. You, Red?"

"Michelle Pfeiffer," Ivy said, crunching on a dried green leaf.

Harley shot her a sidelong glance. She was not going to think about the implications. She just wasn't. It wouldn't do to get jealous of a movie star from twenty years ago. And well, Pfeiffer was rather dashing.

"I personally like Winona Ryder," she said, huddling against the pillow she was hugging, "'cause she's cute. Unfortunately for her though, that doesn't make her character any less annoying. How can anyone be this pleasant?"

"You obviously wouldn't know," Selina grinned.

"Hey! What's that supposed ta mean?" Ooh, great! Were they gonna start a fight?

"Ssh," Ivy cut in. "Calm down, Harl."

Bleh, what a party pooper.


"Ugh." Harley stuffed her face into her pillow, trying to suffocate herself. A last resort. She could no longer take it. This Archer guy was simply too much. Holding her breath, Harley squirmed. When she could really no longer take it, she threw her pillow up in the air and took a gasping breath. "What a ridiculous man! He was so obvious. Of course his wife knew. The whole town knew!"

She had tried everything. Rotating on the sofa, watching upside-down, pacing the living room, playing Tetris, using props and narrating her own stories. She even dialed Mr. J's old number, hoping a joke or two would set her mind aright (and maybe get Ivy to prick her ears). Yeah, no such luck. It must have been disconnected a while ago. Which didn't matter, since Harley could easily carry a fake-conversation with herself.

"Ugh," she said again, once the movie was finally, thankfully, over. "That was painful. Physically painful. Never again. I'll decide the next movie."

"No one asked you to watch it with us."

"What else was I supposed to do when you're both ignoring me? I thought there must be some appeal to the movie."

"There was plenty of appeal," Selina laughed. "You just didn't see it."

"Anyway..." Ivy husked before Harley could blow a fuse. "You wanted to go upstairs?"

"Yeah, about that." Harley's pillow rolled off her lap as she sprang up. "Funtime's over, weed chick. That movie seriously killed the mood. I'm going to bed."