Marvel: Batman x Ironman

Harley burst into the kitchen, where Morgan was sitting on a chair, tinkering with a miniature blaster prototype. She looked up in mild surprise, her eyebrows raising as Harley skidded to a halt in front of her.

"Morgan! You're like a genius, right? Help me!" Harley begged, clutching her hair in frustration.

Morgan blinked, setting the blaster aside. "Uh, sure? What's the crisis this time? Did you break another coffee machine?"

"No, it's way worse than that!" She flung herself dramatically onto the nearest chair. "I've got a date with Bruce tonight, and I can't figure out what to wear! I look through my closet, and it's just... clown this, chaos that, disco vomit everywhere!"

Morgan blinked in shock, her jaw-dropping. "Wait, hold up! You're going on a date with my dad?!"

Harley froze, her hands still gripping her pigtails. "What? No, no, no! Not Stark Daddy! I mean Bruce—Bat Daddy. You know, tall, broody, sometimes smiles when he thinks nobody's looking? Ah! They are the same. Forget what I said." Her dramatic outburst hung in the air as Morgan stared at her, torn between laughter and sheer disbelief. After a moment, she snorted, barely holding back a laugh.

"Bat Daddy?" Morgan repeated, grinning. "Oh my God, that's hilarious. Does he know you call him that?"

She waved her hands frantically. "Shush! It slipped, okay? Don't tell him, or he'll think I'm weird!" She paused, reconsidering. "Well, weirder."

Morgan rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "Alright, alright. So, you've got a date with Dad—sorry, Bat Daddy—and you're freaking out because your wardrobe is... Harley-esque?"

Harley nodded furiously. "Exactly! I need something that says I'm cute and classy but still, y'know, me! You've got, like, Stark-level fashion sense, right? Help a girl out!"

Morgan smirked, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Alright, let's see what we're working with. Show me what you've got."

Harl immediately jumped up, grabbed Morgan's hand, and dragged her toward her room. "Oh, you're gonna regret this, kid. It's a war zone in there!"

[Harley's Room]

Morgan stepped into the chaos that was Harley's room and immediately froze. Clothes were scattered everywhere—on the floor, the bed, the ceiling fan (how?!), and even draped over Harley's beloved stuffed hyena, Bud, who looked mildly annoyed but unbothered.

"Whoa," Morgan muttered, staring at the sheer chaos. "This is... a lot."

Harley beamed. "Thanks! I call it 'organized mayhem.' It's my aesthetic."

Morgan sighed and started picking through the mess. She held up a sequined top and a pair of fishnet tights. "Okay, no offense, but this screams, 'I'm here to rob a bank and look fabulous doing it.' Not date night."

Harley pouted. "Yeah, I kinda thought that too. Ugh! I'm hopeless!"

"Relax," Morgan said, tossing the items aside and digging deeper. "We'll figure it out. Now, what's the vibe? Fancy restaurant? Casual stroll? Rooftop crime-fighting followed by pizza?"

Harley's eyes lit up. "Ooh, rooftop crime-fighting would be so romantic! But no, I think it's a dinner thing. Fancy but not too fancy, y'know?"

"Sigh! So, you don't know." Morgan shook her head, clearly taking on the role of Harley's fashion therapist. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. Step one: we're picking one theme and sticking with it. No chaos layers. You're already chaos in human form, so let's let the outfit balance you out."

Harley tilted her head, intrigued. "Okay, I'm listening. What kinda theme are we talkin'? Like, spy chic? Femme fatale? Or... ooh, Bat-chic! Leather, black, and moody!"

Morgan groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No! No Bat-chic. You're trying to impress him, not mimic his closet. Besides, if he wanted to date himself, he'd just stare into a mirror and brood."

Harley giggled at that. "You got me there, kid."

Morgan continued rummaging until she unearthed a sleek black dress with subtle red accents. She held it up with an approving nod. "Now this? This has potential. It's got that classy, 'I-clean-up-nice' vibe while still being bold. What do you think?"

Harley's eyes widened as she took in the dress. "Whoa! I forgot I even owned that. That's the one is a gift from an oldie with big glasses." She picked it up when she was strolling around the city and saved a store from robbers. The owner told her to take any dress she wanted for saving the day. She smiled, remembering the memory.

 "Great. Now, we'll pair this with something simple—no spiked chokers or oversized mallets," Morgan closely examined the dress.

Harley dramatically gasped. "But my mallet is my security blanket!"

"No mallets. Just enjoy the date without your mallet and keep that nanotech bracelet in your bag," She turned to inspect Harley's shoe collection, eventually pulling out a pair of black heels with red soles. "These'll do. They match the dress, and they're not over-the-top."

Harley inspected the shoes with a skeptical expression. "They're cute, but can I run in 'em? You know, just in case."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "If you're planning on running for your life, you've got bigger problems than the shoes, don't you think? And you can fly, so, why would you run?"

"Fair point," Harley conceded, slipping the shoes on and striking a pose. "Okay, these are kinda killer. I'm sold! Now, what about makeup?"

Morgan leaned back, her arms crossed thoughtfully. "Hmm, keep it simple. A bold red lip to tie the whole look together and some winged eyeliner. You've got that retro pin-up thing going for you, so lean into it."

Harley beamed, throwing her arms around Morgan in an overly dramatic hug. "You're a lifesaver, kiddo! I'd have shown up looking like a train wreck without you."

Morgan patted Harley's back awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah. Just promise me you'll actually listen to my advice and not add, like, a feather boa or something."

"No feather boas. Got it," Harley saluted, already mentally planning how to stash her mallet by the door without anyone noticing.

"Alright, you're all set," She said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Now go knock Bat Daddy's socks off."

Harley grinned mischievously. "Oh, I plan to, kid. I plan to." With a wink, she spun on her heel and dashed off to finish getting ready, leaving Morgan to wonder if her Dad had any idea what he was getting himself into. But she was happy to see that he was moving on and opening his heart to someone else.

[Evening]

As Bruce drove neared the gate, his eyes caught sight of Harley waiting for him by the entrance. His breath caught in his chest as he saw her in the black dress, with its subtle red accents, the heels giving her a confident yet playful stance. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, her makeup bold but not overdone, exuding a rare mix of elegance and chaos. She looked... breathtaking. Beautiful, even.

Morgan, standing in the window next to Hela, couldn't resist a teasing grin as she watched Bruce's reaction.

"Looks like he wasn't ready for that," She said with a laugh, nudging Hela with her elbow. "I don't think I've ever seen Dad so... speechless."

Hela smirked, leaning against the wall. She felt a weird new feeling watching those two outside. It was something new, foreign. A weird thought crossed her mind, 'I want someone to look at me the way he looks at her.' She quickly brushed the thought aside. 'Damn it! What the hell am I even thinking?' Ever since Hela became a mortal, she was sometimes confused by mortal feelings and thoughts, so she was always brushing them aside, like right now.

She cleared her throat and said, "Yeah, well, she's a very different woman. Chaotic on the outside but lonely and scared inside."

Morgan blinked in surprise, turning to face her. "That's surprisingly insightful."

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "It's obvious, isn't it? Everyone has their secrets."

Well, Hela, who spent time with Harley, knew that there was something else behind her chaotic and funny personality. She wasn't ready to show it to everyone. She even found a little diary that Harley forgot to hide last week. She was curious and read a page...

...

Entry 274: Another day, another mess.

I still can't quite shake the feeling that everything in my life is just... one big joke. Not in a funny way either. I'm still trying to figure out how I ended up here, with all these people who somehow put up with me. And then there's him.

Joker. He always said I was the perfect partner for him—chaos, mayhem, a little insanity mixed in. But maybe I was just his puppet. I followed him around like a lost puppy, always doing his bidding, always taking the backseat while he played the mastermind. He didn't care about me, not really.

I should've known when he started using me more than loving me. He was too busy, too focused on his plans, his schemes, to even notice when I started to slip away. He manipulated me, made me feel like I was the only one who could understand him. I believed him.

But then I messed up. I actually did something useful for once—sabotaged his grand plans, got that freakin' monster General killed—and Joker... he flipped. He couldn't deal with it. Couldn't deal with me messing up his perfect little world. He didn't just get mad. No, he tried to kill me. Sent his goons to track me down. Even sent them after my food recipes (seriously? Who does that?) because I spoiled his plans. He didn't care. Not one bit. I was just another pawn, one to be discarded when the game got boring.

Well, things turned out well in the end. Mr. J got what was coming for him and Brucey saved lil' ol' me, and gave me a new purpose, a new life that I never thought I'd have. A fresh start.

He freed me from the darkness...

I'm finally free...

But I'm still me. Still Harley Quinn, the crazy clown girl who can't help but fall for the Dark Knight. I mean, who wouldn't, right? He's so tall and broody and handsome, and he's got a soft spot for stray puppies like me. Well, I kinda messed up a lot, yet he keeps giving me another chance. And I can't screw it up. I can't, not this time.

I won't let myself mess it up again.

Well, that's what I wrote yesterday, but today I couldn't help but steal Di's armor and her lingerie...

....

Hela had to stop reading when she was at the end, feeling a sudden anger and sadness for Harley, for she was the same. She also wanted to escape and find her own way. She wanted freedom. She also wanted to live a life which is her own and not the one Odin gave her. She wanted to be her own person, and she didn't want to follow the path of being a weapon. But the only thing she knew back then was how to kill, conquer, and stand at the top of the food chain.

Suddenly a thought struck her mind. 'Why am I still stuck with Odin's order?' She didn't need to conquer, or kill, or stand above everyone else. She could do whatever she wanted. She could be whoever she wanted. The choice was hers and hers alone. 'Do I really want my cursed power back? For what? To kill? Or, to walk the path Odin laid out for me? What lies at the end? What would happen after I stand above everyone? No. I am the one who decides my path. Not him. Can I be free... if I just let everything go...?'

She looked at Bruce and Harley, who were now walking towards the car. They both seemed happy. And, she knew it was her turn to move on. 'Yes. Maybe I can also try the love thing. I could use the distraction. Maybe I shall ask the clown or the cat for some advice on men.'

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