The Bare 5 (Patreon)

Harley saw Dick leading her around, being his usual sweet self to her, telling her about her job and all the little ways she could be smart and make it easier. Jinx seemed almost shy, she was hanging on his every word so attentively. Harley had to chuckle to herself. She knew the job Jinx really wanted, and the dress code was a lot looser than the one Dick told her about.

Feeling her knuckles protruding from fisted hands, Harley realized she was actually jealous of the chick. She wanted to be the one Dick fawned over; still his dutiful little project, not some new girl!

It was weird. When Harley’d first started working there, she’d been ready to give the guy a piece of her mind if he tried anything with her. But now that she knew all he could do to her, Harley wanted Dick to make with the soliciting. She wouldn’t mind a little sexual harassment so long as he followed through on it…

An hour before shift change, Harley got Dick alone. He was just slipping into his little manager’s office when Harley ducked into it with him.

Dick saw that it was her and gave Harley a questioning look. “Something I can help you with, Harley?” he asked her, his usual nice—but reserved—self.

“That new girl, Jinx… she ain’t really gotten the job down yet. Whadda ya say we send her home early and I’ll stay late with you?”

Dick smiled at her. “Not tonight. I don’t see it being too busy, so I’ll have plenty of time to get her trained. She needs a lot of attention, you know? She hasn’t had a real job since she was delivering newspapers and I want to be sure she’s as prepared as I can get her.”

“So you can get her,” Harley chirped, opening the door to look out at the pink-haired goth. She was sitting in one of the booths, turned so her legs weren’t under the table, but out in the open and on display.

Harley got a kick out of seeing how innocent she looked. Wait until she knew what Dick felt like inside her.

“Jinx!” Dick called out the door of his office. “Almost time to clock in! You gonna get into your uniform?”

Jinx picked up her purse and headed for the bathroom. “On it, boss.”

“Harley,” Dick said, “I know we fooled around some, but so long as Jinx is working here, we should try to keep it professional. I don’t have to tell you how awkward it would be for her if she walked in on us… not being quite so boss-employee.”

Harley’s mouth twisted downward. “Oh. I get it. Now that you’ve gotten anal out of me, it’s on to the next chippie, huh?”

“Harley, that isn’t it at all!”

“Yeah, it isn’t! There’s all kinds of other stuff we can do! Try giving me a golden shower! You can drink whatever you want beforehand! I won’t mind!”

“I don’t want to give you a golden shower.”

Harley’s lip quivered. “You know I’m a gymnast, right? I can eat my own pussy! Not that I’m any good at it! You’re much better, Dickie, promise!”

“Harley, I just think maybe we should pursue this relationship while we’re not at work. Is that okay with you?”

“Then… you’re not going to have sex with Jinx?”

“No! She’s just an employee!”

“So was I,” Harley pointed out.

“Well, that was different.”

“How?”

Dick shrugged. “You threw yourself at me. Jinx isn’t going to do that.”

Harley nodded reluctantly. “Yeah… I guess not…”

But thinking of Dick’s body, even hidden inside the unglamorous working clothes any short-order cook would wear, Harley wasn’t so sure.

Jinx came out of the bathroom then.

She wore pink short-shorts, so tight that the swell of her pubis was impressed on the cloth between her gray thighs. Her long legs, the same ashy shade of goth, were bare and toned. Her belly was just as coolly granite, exposed between the waist of her shorts and her straining halter. Her breasts jiggled, barely concealed by the thin pink top, and Harley could see her nipples, a deeper shade of pink than the fabric they were pressing through. Her violet eyes sparkled vividly and a lace cap replaced her barrettes, leaving her mane of pink hair as tousled as if she’d just gotten out of bed. It made her look like she’d been freshly fucked—and was eager for a repeat performance.

Harley thought it might be time she put in a phone call to some of the Joker’s old stooges, just to show this Jinx what was what.

***

“Four burgers, a bowl of chili, five Buds. That all?”

“What else can I get, pretty lady?” the man asked, eyeing Jinx lasciviously. “You know, you’re about the tastiest looking thing that’s been in here since they opened the doors!”

He reached over and pinched her ass.

Jinx jumped back, feeling the small but darkening bruise on her delicate skin. “I should—” she began angrily.

“What? Learn to take a joke?” the man asked, his two friends laughing with him.

Fuming, Jinx marched off. Dick had told her to watch out for guys like this, saying Harley’d had a hard time too, but she knew she could handle it. Just one little spell and they would be… watching her get marched off to Belle Reve, or whatever other hellhole the government decided to put her in.

Even if it was something as simple as tagging a wall or denting a bumper, she was too dangerous to roam free unless she was perfectly under control. So she just had to suck up jerks like those three, with their dirty clothes and shifty looks. She’d probably have to clean the booth after they left—the kind of clean that involved a bug-bomb.

Jinx dismissed them from her mind, going to pick up an early breakfast order from Dick.

“Everything alright? You look tense,” he said.

“Nothing I can’t handle. The three on the right are just a rowdy bunch.”

Dick clocked them, then looked back at Jinx. “You tell me if they keep being rowdy. Buying a burger doesn’t give them the right to harass my employees.”

“It’s four burgers,” Jinx said, hanging the order slip up.

In a few minutes, the order was ready. As businesslike as she could be, Jinx picked it up and brought it to the table. The moment she’d set the plates down, she turned to leave. The ringleader from before grabbed hold of her apron, not letting her get away.

“When are you going to serve something a little sweeter than these grease stains?”

Jinx set her jaw. “Don’t know. When are you leaving?”

“You gotta big mouth. But I got big eyes.” He lifted up her apron now, trying to get a look at her shorts—

Suddenly Dick was there, breaking the man’s hold on Jinx with a chop across his wrist. The man’s arm dropped as if boneless; he grasped his deadened wrist with his other hand.

“I don’t think we want your business anymore,” Dick said. “And we damn sure don’t want your conversation.”

At the nod from their leader, the two other men moved to leave the booth. “We ain’t leaving until we’ve eaten everything we’re hungry for.”

“Do I really have to say it?” Dick asked. With the men still hemmed in by the booth they were in, he led with a left hook to the man on the left, then jerked his right hand over to hit the one on the right with the back of his fist. “Eat that.”

The leader hurled himself out of the booth, but Dick froze him with a sudden, overpowering look—making him reconsider the attacks he’d just seen doled out to his two compatriots.

“You’re going to look dumb already, hauling those scumbags out of here with only one hand,” Dick said. “Imagine how stupid you’ll look doing it with your teeth.”

The leader eyed Dick, almost growling, before sweeping his food off the table and down to the floor. “C’mon, let’s get out of here! I’m not eating this shit anyway!”

Dick stood aside as they made their exit, the two followers weaving drunkenly, one pinching his nose to staunch a bleed.

He probably could’ve made them clean up after themselves, but it was bad enough that he’d had to defend himself. Making a production of how he was able to clean house even with three-to-one odds… he’d never be able to lecture Jason on his life choices again.

Jinx was shaking, tears flooding her violet eyes. Dick patted her on the shoulder. “Go in back, have a slice of pie. I’ll get this cleaned up.”

It didn’t take long for Dick to sweep up, mop up, and then lock the diner up while he sorted things out. He didn’t think they’d be getting more customers that night anyway. In Gotham, people learned to sense when violence was in the air. They steered clear until the scent of it washed off.