[i]Note to self: her real name distresses her.[/i] It didn't take a genius or study body language to notice the involuntary tensing of the shoulders and defensive tone of her voice. On the other hand, maybe that was to be expected? Dick couldn't know what was happening inside Harley's mind but he could make an educated guess. If she was truly trying to break free of Joker's thrall, she was likely undergoing something of an identity crisis. For some time now, she had been defined by her relationship with the clown, all her goals centred on him and her actions focussed on his benefit. Without that, who would she be? After the experience of recent years, it seemed unlikely that she'd just slip back into the role of Doctor Quinzel but who could say.

As she quickly moved past his use of her official title, possibly trying to avoid dealing with it, Dick once again had to resist rolling his eyes. She was suggesting stealing a car and doing her level best to provoke him into getting defensive, specifically by describing him as Batman's least favourite protégé. [i]Honestly[/i], he thought, [i]the similarities with Damian are down right spooky.[/i] The youngest Robin too often chose to insult and belittle people rather than deal with what they were saying, deflecting the issues with acidic barbs. Less and less now though, Dick had to admit. The little assassin had mellowed out towards most of the Bat-family in recent weeks (not so much with Tim) but one had to wonder whether that would hold out with Bruce's disappearance.

Instead of rising to it or getting defensive, he let her rant on uninterrupted. [i]Have I ever wired a car? Now that brings back memories...[/i] he mused, letting his mind spin back to recall his several attempts to steal cars and joyride, none of which had been very successful. Twice he'd almost been caught by cops and the third time... well, the Batman himself had landed on the hood of the car and told him to get out. That'd been only a few weeks after his parent's deaths, when Dick had still been trying to find ways of dealing with the grief and the change.

Harley's biting words and mocking tone snapped him back to the present. [b][color=ff0000]“Whatta say Bird-brain? You wanna suck up to me and ride shotgun or are you gonna keep being a prick and I'm gonna have to make ya's ride in the back? Maybe they even got a toddler seat in there for ya... Ou now that's cute...”[/color][/b]

With a lazy grin, Dick shrugged. [i][color=dodgerblue]"Sure, we could steal car. Of course, I'd be honour bound as a good citizen to call the other boys in blue if I saw criminal activity like that going on. No, I was thinking we could take my ride."[/color][/i] With that, he pressed down a button on his wrist with a self satisfied smile.

Nothing happened immediately, though his smile still stayed on.

Five seconds passed.

Ten seconds...

[color=dodgerblue][i]"... Just give it a minute, alright."[/i][/color]

About thirty seconds after the button was pressed (Dick's smile looked a little desperate by then) there came a squealing of tires from around the corner and a headlight came into view. It was so bright that the vehicle and driver where blocked from view until it pulled up sharply alongside them. It was a sleek looking blue and black motorbike, Nightwing's insignia emblazoned across its chassis. More importantly, it had no driver.

Dick mumbled [color=dodgerblue][i][sub]"couldn't have got here any sooner, could you?"[/sub][/i][/color] under his breath as he turned back to Harley. [color=dodgerblue][i]"What do you think? Better than a stolen family car? I'm sorry there's no kiddie seat."[/i][/color]