Aliens and Dates

❝There's something I once heard, and I'll never forget those wise words: nothing is so bad that it can't get worse. Wow, that's beautiful, it inspires me to this day.❞

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IF THERE'S ANYTHING I LEARNED from my past life, it was that fighting Batman himself had its advantages, especially if you were willing to at least look at him beyond the always-so-stern night watchman with the face of someone who'd sucked twenty-seven lemons.

Sure, Bruce Wayne was a piece of shit, but it wasn't his muscles I was referring to, but rather that if you were willing to look at all the times you lost to the billionaire while fighting him, you could learn a trick or two. All you had to do was pay close attention and review the blows exchanged from start to finish in your mind.

And when you lose as much as I did, who was always on the side of the fraud called the Joker, sometimes on the side of Selina Kyle, and a few hundred times willing to make Gotham chaos on a girls' night with Pamela Lillian Isley (that's Poison Ivy, you fools), we can say that I learned a lot in my past life.

It was with this in mind that I tried to stay as calm as possible when I went through the automatic doors of the mall; as I walked through the chaos that the city that never sleeps had become in a few hours, I shot as perfectly as I could at some aliens that were close to the place, killing them quickly and agilely.

It was there, while I was hitting their heads that I noticed how much my aim was up to date, even though it had been almost thirty years since the last time I had touched a firearm; in the end, even with all the bad things I had done in my past life, I saw that I had taken something useful from all those robberies carried out together with the clown of Gotham City.

Smiling, letting my sadism come out in this simple action; I ran towards a group of aliens, climbing onto the belly of an overturned car in the middle of the street, jumping and falling in an almost perfect circle created by the beings from another planet. 

I allowed myself to laugh as I spun around in their midst, shooting their heads during the adrenaline-fueled action, killing them before they could have a chance to attack me.

When I finished, I took a deep breath as I lowered both weapons, swaying between the now corpses on the ground, widening my smile at that moment; such an action covered in satisfaction and an extra layer (not any less strange) of calm; as if all my anger was being poured out on the aliens, and that made me, as strange as it seemed, feel good.

— "I hadn't realized how much I missed this." — I muttered softly, to no one in particular, as I raised my chin to the sky, towards the still open portal, and more and more lizards coming out of space, reminding me of an anthill.

I even like ants, but I'm not exactly willing to let a bunch of beings from another planet dominate the earth as if it were a handful of sugar dumped in the middle of the table, at three in the morning.

Too specific or just right? I'm not sure, to be quite honest.

However, before I could say anything else, a new voice made itself present above me: — "That was pretty impressive for a civilian."

Raising my chin in the direction I knew the overturned car was, with a frown already forming on the lines of my face, I couldn't help but raise one of my arms with the gun I had borrowed from the mall security guard, more than prepared to shoot the new presence that had interrupted my moment.

A shock of red hair was the first thing my eyes caught, then how relaxed the woman was, her completely black clothes and tight to her skin, looking well equipped (especially for a civilian) even in the chaos around us. And looked very calm, even though there was now a gun pointed at her.

— "Thanks, I guess." — I thanked back, a little confused by the satisfied and slightly sarcastic smile on the lips of the redhead on top of the overturned vehicle, who I guessed was an agent from somewhere.

Was she from the CIA, maybe? Or the FBI? I had a one-night stand with one of them, I don't remember which area, but I can assure you that they're not as nice as they seem.

It's not a complaint, to be clear. Just... interesting. And I'm not talking about sex, you bunch of accidents!

— "You seem willing to help, so I'll consider you an ally," — The woman said again, taking me out of my thoughts. Looking back at her, I noticed that she was still quite relaxed to my taste, even though she still had a gun pointed at her.

Who the hell was this redhead, after all?

Frowning, showing in this simple action how confused I had been when I heard her, I didn't try to hold myself back, and in the next second, I started firing word after word in her direction: — "First, I don't know who you're talking about. Whose ally, for fuck's sake?!" — I asked the last part somewhat rudely and in a louder tone than necessary, however, the redhead remained indifferent, seeming willing to answer me, however, I was quicker to finish my questions: — "And second, I don't even know you! I don't even know your name, to begin with."

— "Well, I don't know yours either."

— "Harleen Frances Quinzel, but I prefer to be called by my nickname, Harley Quinn. Just Harley, preferably."

The woman smiled, raising an eyebrow at my words, seeming to be amused by how quickly I had released such information. It didn't matter, anyway, it wasn't my name on the birth certificate. And, to be honest, I hated the name Chloe Barbosa Lockhart, especially how ironic that name was.

Lucky heart my ass, I have more bad luck in this life than a cursed wax doll.

I watched the woman jump out of the car as I had done a few moments ago. However, her movements seemed smoother and lighter than mine, as if she had been jumping from great heights all her life, unlike me. At least in this life, of course.

The redhead walked towards me, stopping less than two meters away from my body; the arm that had a gun pointed at her was now lowered, but I was still alert, not completely trusting this woman.

— "Natasha Romanoff, I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."

A very strong name, which suits her. And it's much prettier than Chloe Barbosa Lockhart, for sure.

I smiled, a smile that I could have made seem forced, making it clear how much I didn't trust her, however, I chose to flash a wide smile; one that usually left people scared, or at least trembling like children who had a surreal fear of clowns.

— "Nice to meet you, Agent Romanoff. I'm just a civilian wanting peace, nothing special."

Not to mention that I came from another universe, this one where we also had superheroes taking care of us, I was theoretically about ninety years old (if you count my past life, and I was counting), and I already had a crazy guy as a boyfriend.

The next minute, Natasha raised one of her arms, bringing one of her hands to her right ear, and pressed what I imagined to be a miniature communicator, which for a moment reminded me of the ones the Justice League used to communicate (courtesy of Bruce Wayne's infinite money, of course), an easier way to communicate with their potential allies, and said while still looking me up and down: — "Captain, I found a potential ally," — She said confidently, despite having only said two words, looking away for a second at the alien bodies now around us, almost as if the agent was momentarily enjoying the view. Had I found another sadist? Hardly. — "Hawkeye was right, there was someone taking care of the Chitauri on the north side. I'm taking her downtown, she might be useful to us."

To my surprise, I could easily hear the conversation that followed: — "A civilian?" — A voice said, with so much interest and seriousness in its tone that I almost raised an eyebrow. However, fortunately, I managed to stop myself from looking away, my eyelids widening a little when I saw a group of Chitauris with their backs to the two of us; clearly, the sons of God were looking for new victims to hurt.

And, between us, I didn't feel like running around like a dizzy cockroach again.

Without thinking, I walked over to Natasha, pushing her towards the overturned car, so that her back was against the now destroyed bodywork, and I could stand in front of her body, like a human shield.

However, thinking better about my options, and ignoring the confused look on the redhead's face now in front of me, I raised one of the guns to my face, took out the first cartridge, and almost cursed out loud when I saw that there were only two bullets left. In the second cartridge of ammunition, I almost sighed happily when I saw that there were seven bullets available, but it still wasn't enough for the chaos that New York had become.

— "How is a civilian dealing with these things?" — I knew it was Tony Stark who asked, mainly because I had seen him on my neighbors' TV (I don't even have enough money to pay for the electricity and you want me to have a TV? No way), or even on social media more times than I would have liked.

I was never the biggest fan of the billionaire who became a superhero last year — or was it the year before? I don't know and I don't care — but I definitely didn't hate him like I knew some people would, as I had the displeasure of meeting months ago.

— "Is she a mutant?" — The philanthropist asked again, firing the question at the agent as if he had the duty to clear up her doubts at that moment. New York is under attack, and you want to discuss what I am?! — "A soldier modified like a popsicle?"

— "Tony, honey, this is not the time to be an asshole." — A new female voice sounded, surprising even me, who had never heard anyone call the womanizing billionaire 'honey' before.

— "While you're wasting precious time arguing about what this woman does or can do, how about you waste that time fighting these aliens?" — I had no idea who that voice was, I only knew it was male, and that he had some wisdom.

— "Agent Barton is right, bring her here immediately, Agent Romanoff, and we'll discuss how she can help."

Killing lizards? Saving civilians from aliens? I like the spirit of trying to hide that you just want to be sure of my nature, but I feel like this brain lacks training for lies.

— "Yes, captain." — To my surprise, Natasha didn't even seem affected by the previous discussion and only listened when her 'captain' answered her, making me smile instantly.

I like her.

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞?

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