lovemykilt | Taystee Diner, New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

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Taystee Diner, New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

Priestly wasn't generally the sort to call out from a shift without being, like, dead or recovering therefrom (it was a little sad that he knew that about himself), but he'd've been sorely tempted to, today. As it was, most of the staff had commented that he looked "like shit on toast, dude" and a few customers had politely asked for a different server.

Yeah, it was the best day ever.

He tried not to rub at his eyes as he looked over the diner, keeping an eye out for one customer in particular and trying not to obviously look at the other customers who should be scattered about, laying low and ready to jump in if things went terribly.

He was not cut out for this sneaky stuff. After this, he was going somewhere where he didn't have to be sneaky at all for awhile.

[ooc: for plot buddies!]

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"This is a comms check. Team one, you in position?"

"Roger, Lieutenant." Two plainclothes cops were inside the Taystee Diner, studiously eating a basket of fries. "Eyes on protectee."

"Team two, report."

"West exit covered, sir." In a car in the alley, two police officers were waiting in an unmarked car.

"I have the entrance, along with my back-up." Reese gave Dinah, standing next to him across the street, a warning look. "Wait for my signal before going. Target has been spotted down the street. Acknowledge."

"Copy."

"Copy."

Dinah glared at him and folded her arms, then mouthed 'copy.'

Reese rolled his eyes. "Stand by for target, ETA two minutes."

... as Harley Quinn approached the diner, mouth set in a grim line.

Dinah touched her Barbara-made comm. "Hang in there, Priestly," she whispered.

Edited 2015-01-20 22:52 (UTC)

"Hey, Priestly," one of the hostesses teased as she swung past. "Looks like your girlfriend's coming. She looks kinda pissed."

Priestly tried not to stare back wide-eyed. He wondered if you could sweat through a kevlar vest.

"Probably just her coworkers again," he said, with as light a tone as he could. "Guess I better be extra nice to her today, huh?"

Harley stalked into the diner, then forced herself to a little more calmness as she approached. "Priestly!" Then in a lower tone. "I was hoping to hear from you, darling."

What had gone wrong? Or had he simply not been able to get close to Dinah with Barbara there?

"Arlene!" Priestly even managed to smile, though he couldn't quite bring himself to make eye-contact, yet. "I know, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't have your number."

"An oversight on my part, darling." Harley leaned closer and said, "Another Mexican coffee, and then you can tell me all about your day. Yes?"

"Absolutely," Priestly said, and turned to get the coffee, giving himself a fraction of a second with his back turned to make the face he really wanted to make before getting a hold of himself again. "I was hoping I'd see you again, today. I, uh. Ran into some trouble. I'm kinda new to all this."

"Oh, of course. What kind of trouble?" Harley asked, trying to catch his eye. "I'll just sit over at this booth, and you can come tell me all about it." Sounding like a caring teacher, just wanting to help you out!

Grrrr.

Oh god. Was he supposed to let her get him in a corner like that? Priestly wasn't sure how to subtly ask, so after just a moment of hesitation, he decided he'd better trust that Dinah wouldn't let him get hurt.

She wouldn't. And she'd cry if he did anyway.

Priestly signaled to his coworker that he was taking a short break and went to follow her. "Well, okay, I had an idea for the -- you know -- and I know you said to be creative, but I really don't want to mess up and not get the job completely done, you know? Maybe you could . . . give me some ideas?"

He had to get her to say what she wanted him to do, right? Maybe he should let her think she was hypnotizing him again. He swallowed once, unable to hold it back, and finally met her eye.

God he hoped the contacts worked.

"Sweetheart," Harley said in a lulling voice. "I would think using your food talents would be a good start. Just ... put a little something in one of your splendid dishes." She looked deep into Priestly's eyes, and the black swallowed up the irises again. "Dinah Lance, dead. Barbara Gordon, distraught. Is that so difficult to understand? I'm not asking you to stab her. I know she could throw you across the room before you get the chance."

Dinah had total faith in those contacts of Barbara's, but she still hated having to wait, and listen, and...

"That's it, that's what we were waiting for," she whispered in Priestly's ear. "The police are behind you and they'll arrest her as soon as you stand up again, okay?"

Holy crap that eye shit was way creepier when you weren't getting whammied by it. "Yeah," Priestly said, trying not to show just how creeped out he was by it. "Yeah, that's makes sense, thanks." He pushed himself up to his feet. "I should get back to work."

"Excellent." All Harley's purr was missing was her tapping her fingers together to look like a cartoon villain. Her eyes faded back to normal, and she leaned got up, leaning forward to pat Priestly's cheek. "Come back here after it's done, day or night. I'll be here as soon as possible."

"And go!" Reese said into his comms.

The two plainclothes cops in the booth behind them jumped to their feet, the first grabbing one of Harley's arms, the other saying, "Harleen Quinzelle, you are under arrest--"

Harley shrieked in rage, twisting and flailing, and managed to knock the sunglasses off one of the cops. Her eyes went black-tarry-shiny again, and she yelled, "Beat up your partner!"

And now the first cop had his hands full with his partner attacking him.

"You," Harley said, turning back to Priestly with venom, and drawing a curving dagger from one inner jacket pocket. "Disappoint me, Priestly."

Slash!

Priestly reacted instinctively -- completely forgetting that his torso was protected, but his arms weren't. He threw his arm out to block the knife, falling back, and took the brunt of that slash across his forearm, splitting the skin from the side of his wrist down to his elbow.

Whelp. At least it wasn't an arrow.

Dinah had taken off the second the police said Harley's name, rushing into traffic and between a couple taxis, much to Reese's loudly voiced displeasure. So she was at the door of the Taystee Diner when Harley got Priestly across the arm.

Screw banter. That knife was out of Harley's hand and embedded in the ceiling in 0.01 seconds.

Then she was throwing herself forward in a tackle.

And there was Priestly, getting the fuck out of the way.

He grabbed a clean(ish) towel from the lunch counter and wrapped it around his forearm, putting pressure on the knife-wound as best he could.

"I have never been so happy to disappoint a woman!" he called, wondering if Harley could even hear him over the sound of Dinah kicking her ass.

What? Someone had to get some banter in.

"You pitiful, pathetic--" Harley's next 'OW!' was significantly louder than whatever else she was going to say. Being slammed into a table will do that to you. She wriggled enough to see who had taken her down, and then started laughing hysterically. "Dinah! Dahling! it's been too long! Did I hurt your puppy? Awwwwww. Where's Helena?" She kicked out, trying to get Dinah in the kneecaps, and gave a frustrated shriek as Dinah cuffed her arms behind her back. "Next time, I'm going to make him lick my boots first--"

Dinah was too mad to form words. But the phrase not gonna be a next time, 'cause next time I kill you might have worked its way through the hand she had on the back of Harley's neck.

Harley started laughing again, so Dinah flipped her over, then slammed the heel of her fist into Harley's laughing face, knocking her back into the table-top.

"Was that really necessary?" Reese asked, hauling Harley upright, still dazed and bleeding a little.

Dinah was already rushing over to check on Priestly. "Are you okay ohmygod MEDIC!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Priestly assured her, pulling the towel away a little to show her the wrist-end of the cut. "Look, the bleeding's almost stopped." Most of the cut wouldn't even need stitches! "Are you? I mean, holy crap. I've seen you fight before, but holy crap!"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Dinah was shaking with adrenaline, and now reaching to hold the bar towel in place on Priestly's arm. "She could've really hurt you, those stupid cops--" She inhaled, and squeezed his free hand, sending, I really didn't want to give her another chance to hurt you. Or anyone else, too, but she was still thinking of Barbara going to pieces over Wade, and if that had been Priestly--

Well. Reese would've had to cuff Dinah to something to keep her from taking Harley apart.

"You did great," she added aloud. "You really did." She grinned a little wildly. "She's caught."

Harley's shrieking was fading into the distance as Reese put her into the patrol car outside.

Edited 2015-01-21 01:54 (UTC)

Priestly on the other hand was kind of buzzing. "I almost fought her!" Oh honey. "Do you think I'll have to testify at a trial or something? I'm totally starting to see why you do this all the time. Man, my arm doesn't even hurt."

Yet. His arm didn't hurt yet. When this adrenaline rush ended, he was going to crash pretty hard.

Dinah gave a hiccup of hysterical laughter, then insisted, "Ice. And the ER. And some nice topical drugs. Then you can tell me how much it doesn't hurt." She drew a breath, letting her head fall on the side of his shoulder. "Gah. No. No trial. She's already broken out, that's ten years onto her sentence, plus the extras... her lawyer is so not going to be thrilled with her. They're going to have to up her security at Arkham a crazy huge amount." She straightened. "You did fight her, you faced her down after what she did. God, I'm so proud of you." Hiccup.

Don't ever ever scare her like that again, Priestly, jeez.

Why did everyone always blame Priestly when he got hurt? He didn't panic this time! That was serious progress!

"Me too," Priestly agreed. "She is -- really terrifying."

As evidenced by the fact that all of his coworkers and most of the diner's other patrons were all now hiding behind the lunch counter. Priestly spotted his manager among the crowd.

"Uh, boss?"

"OH MY GOD GO TO THE HOSPITAL," the manager said.

"Alrighty."

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Taystee Diner, New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

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