John's lips curved faintly as he looked at the old door, as if he could still see it swinging open with that annoying little bell they never fixed.
"Oh yeah," he said. "I remember."
Harley's grin widened, eyes lighting up as she leaned back just enough to look at him. "You better. I had a whole business empire planned out, mister."
John let out a soft breath, almost a laugh, and the world around them seemed to blur for a second as the memory pulled him back.
//Flashback//
The place had looked even worse back then.
Dust everywhere. Half the lights didn't work. The counter had a crack running straight through it like someone had punched it out of spite. The sign outside was hanging by one chain, creaking every time the wind hit it.
John stood in the middle of it with his hands in his pockets, silent as usual, scanning the space like he was judging whether it was worth the effort.
Behind him, Harley burst through the door with a large grin, arms spread wide. "Ta-da!" she announced, spinning once in the middle of the room, boots kicking up dust. "Our future empire of fun, chaos, and questionable financial decisions."
John didn't react right away. He just looked around again, then looked at her. "It's falling apart."
Harley dropped her arms and shrugged like that was part of the charm. "Yeah, but it's got personality. And it's cheap, which is kinda the important part since we are not exactly swimming in cash."
John pulled a folded envelope from his jacket and tapped it lightly against his palm. "This covers the place and basic repairs. Barely."
Harley's grin sharpened as she reached into her jacket and tossed a thick bundle of cash onto the counter. It landed with a heavy thud. "Good thing I brought a little bonus."
John looked at it, then at her. "Joker's stash?"
She tilted her head, completely unapologetic. "Yep! Mistah J's hidden stash. He ain't using it, so I figured, why not put it toward something productive. Like me."
John didn't argue. He just gave a small nod and tucked the envelope away. That was about as close to approval as she was going to get.
Harley clapped her hands once, already moving again. "Okay, first order of business. We gotta decide what this place is gonna be." She hopped onto the counter and sat cross-legged, pointing around like she was mapping out a kingdom. "I'm thinking a confetti store. Floor to ceiling confetti. Every color, shape and size. You walk in, boom, instant party."
John leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "That won't sell easily. You already saw how many confetti shops are out there in the neighbourhood."
She waved him off. "Fine, fine. Then a toy store. We fill it with all kinds of weird stuff. Wind-up things, creepy dolls, exploding jack-in-the-boxes, and clowns that make noise at three in the morning just to mess with people."
John shook his head slightly. "Too risky. What if people get hurt? The cops will be knocking at our door."
Harley narrowed her eyes at him, then snapped her fingers. "Bubblegum shop. That's it. We sell every kind of bubble gum in the world. Sour, spicy, glow-in-the-dark, gum that changes flavor every five seconds. Everyone loves bubble gum."
John pushed off the wall and walked toward the counter, stepping around a loose tile without even looking down. "Too niche."
Harley groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the counter, one arm hanging off the edge. "You are killing my dreams here, Johnny."
He stopped in front of her, resting his hands lightly on the cracked surface. His voice stayed calm, steady. "Pizza shop."
She blinked at him, lifting her head slowly. "...Pizza."
"Simple and reliable," he continued, meeting her eyes. "People love pizza, and there's only one shop in this neighbourhood. So, we can make a good profit. We sell pizza, drinks, and ice cream on the side. Maybe other stuff later."
Harley stared at him for a second, really thinking this time. Then she sat up, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Pizza with extras."
John gave a small nod.
Her grin turned wild again as she hopped off the counter. "Oh, we could totally mess with the menu. Like, normal pizza, but then also weird pizza. Dessert pizza. Spicy pizza that makes people cry. Ice cream on top of pizza."
John raised an eyebrow. "No."
She pointed at him. "Okay, maybe not that one. But you get the idea."
He didn't smile, but there was something softer in his expression now. "It works."
Harley spun once more, arms out again, this time slower. "Alright, Mr. Serious. Pizza shop it is." She stopped right in front of him, poking his chest lightly. "But I'm naming one after me."
"No."
"Too late. Harley Special ultra large pizza with world's hottest sauce and chilli."
He exhaled quietly. "Do as you wish."
She hugged him tightly for a moment, saying, "Yay! You're gonna make it though. I can't cook."
John gave a rare smile as he patted her back twice.
...
[Present time]
The memory faded...
Harley was still leaning against him, her fingers lightly gripping his shirt as she looked up at the old sign again. "We really thought we had it all figured out back then."
John's arm tightened around her just a little. "We didn't."
She smiled anyway, softer this time. "Yeah. But it worked out, didn't it?"
John looked at the building one more time, then down at her.
"…Yeah," he said quietly. "It did."
Harley tilted her head, then slowly looked up at him. Her eyes caught his attention again. They were wide, hopeful, and carried a different kind of danger. "Johnny…" she said, stretching his name slightly. "What if... we fixed it up a little? And you know..."
John did not respond right away. He already knew what she was thinking.
"We already have franchises," he said calmly. "With better equipment."
Harley stepped in front of him and began walking backward, forcing him to keep his eyes on her. "Yeah, yeah, fancy places, shiny ovens, blah blah blah. But this one…" she tapped her foot against the ground, then pointed at the building behind him, "this one's ours."
John let out a slow breath.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel more personal. "C'mon… don't you miss it a little? Just us, yelling at each other over burnt crust and weird customers?"
John's eyes shifted back to the shop. The constant political mess, chaos, villains, metas, and the responsibility of countless people... It was exhausting. But he also couldn't just leave them. So, yeah, he did miss his old simple life more than anything.
Harley saw the hesitation and immediately pushed harder, her expression going full weaponized innocence. "Pleeeease," she said, stretching the word out, hands clasped together now. "Look at it. It's practically beggin' for us to come back."
John closed his eyes briefly, then let out a quiet sigh.
"Fine," he said at last.
Harley froze in place.
"You win," he continued. "Since we are staying here for a month or two, we can fix it up."
She did not let him finish.
Harley jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him as she kissed him without warning. "I knew it," she laughed against his lips, her voice bright and full of energy. "I knew you couldn't say no to me."
John steadied her easily, his grip tightening out of habit. "You're insufferable."
"And you love it," she replied instantly before slipping back down to the ground.
She was already moving.
Her phone was in her hand before he could say anything, and she was dialing as she paced in small, excited circles.
"Bluebell," Harley said as soon as the call connected. "Guess what we're doing?"
There was a brief pause.
"I'm guessing something unnecessary," Maureen replied from the other side.
Harley grinned. "We are reopening the original JHM Pizza... temporarily."
Muareen instantly replied, "Without me?"
"You think we're that cruel? Get your blue ass over her and help us out," Harley said a bit too loudly, and she was really excited.
John was listening without interrupting their conversation as Harley began listing everything they would need to fix the place. Supplies, equipment, repairs, staff. Her thoughts moved quickly, forming plans faster than most people could process them.
And just like that, everything was already in motion.
--
...[A few days later]...
On the outskirts of Dakota City... The car tore off the road at full speed, skidding across gravel before slamming hard into a tree. The impact crumpled the front end inward with a violent crunch, glass bursting outward in a sharp spray that scattered across the ground. For a moment, everything went still except for the faint hiss of the damaged engine and the slow curl of smoke rising into the air.
The driver's side door creaked open.
A boot touched the ground.
She stepped out slowly, like the impact had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Glass crunched under her feet as she straightened up, brushing a piece of debris off her shoulder without even looking at it. Dark skin, pink hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her irises look hazel brown.
Her forehead was bleeding.
She touched the wound as her eyes glowed green for a moment, and her wound healed almost instantly. Then, she began to walk toward the city.
...
[At the same time in the city]
The bus hissed as it came to a stop, doors folding open with a dull mechanical sound. People stepped off one after another, blending into the usual rhythm of the street. Conversations, footsteps, distant traffic, everything layered together into that constant city noise.
Then she stepped down last.
A girl in a black hoodie, the fabric pulled low enough to shadow most of her face. She paused on the sidewalk instead of moving with the crowd, standing just off to the side like she had forgotten what she was supposed to do next.
Her head tilted slightly.
Her eyes fluttered a little too fast.
It looked wrong if someone paid enough attention, like her focus kept snapping from one thing to another faster than a normal person could process.
Fragments of emotions brushed against her awareness as people passed by. She could read their thoughts through their emotions... too many voices and emotions.
She inhaled slowly, grounding herself. 'It's getting worse. Must find him...'
The noise dulled just enough.
Her fingers tightened briefly at her sides before relaxing again, like she was forcing control back into place. When she finally looked up, her gaze steadied, though it still carried that faint, distant look of someone seeing more than what was in front of them.
She then began to walk toward the main city block.
==
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