((A/N)): I think this is one of the ones I wrote on or very close to Valentine's Day, so it's fucking September right now, but 

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"OW! YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

You fumed as your giggling 4-year old cousin kicked you in the shin, dashing past you in your moment of weakness to join his siblings in the back room.

Valentine's Day in Gotham brought nothing good to your door.

First, you worked at a candy store. That was a nightmare all on its own, especially on this particular day.

Second, you had to work extra shifts. Almost all of your coworkers had abandoned you to make plans with their significant others.

Third, your older cousin had puppy dog-eyed you into babysitting her three little DEMONS while she enjoyed her evening at an amusement park, or wherever the hell her husband was taking her, you didn't care.

All of this on a Friday night. You mourned the lost time between you and your couch, and your ever-comfy pajamas. Curl up on the couch with your girlfriend, make fun of all the shitty rom-coms, eat candy until you both threw up... you were losing time. And your mind.

You stormed into the back room, absolutely horrified by the mess your little cousins had made. There was a jar of spilled jellybeans, chocolate smeared over little cheeks and the floor, how the hell did he get TAFFY in his hair?!

The notebook and pen you had left the youngest of the trio with laid abandoned on the floor near your bag, currently being rifled through. Your youngest cousin giggled up at you with your now-ruined tube of lipstick clutched in one hand.

You sighed and leaned down to scoop her up, resting her on your hip, before snapping at the other two, trying to play jacks with the spilled jellybeans.

"No, absolutely not! Pick those up and throw them in the trash, they're ruined now... oh mY GOD DO NOT PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH".

You didn't have time to scold them any further. The cliche little bell that you hated rang at the top of the door from the front. You adjusted your cousin on your hip as she grabbed at your hair and made your way to the counter.

Finally something was working in your favor that day, it seemed.

Harley grinned at you, blowing a bubble with her gum that she had, no doubt, plucked from the jar by the register.

"Hey, babe, sorry I haven't texted or called or anything, I've been... wrangling little monsters", you explained, jerking your head towards the back room.

Harley nodded sympathetically.

"Gotcha, gotcha. I missed ya, is all. Just wanted to see my favorite girl on my favorite day of the year", she winked, resting her chin in her hands and leaning forward on the counter.

You knew exactly what she wanted, rolling your eyes but happily pecking her lips anyway. She tasted like sugary bubblegum and the little cherry heart lollipops that spread like wildfire on this day, every single year.

"You taste sweet", you laughed, wiping away some of her lipstick that had smeared onto you.

"Sweet like sugar", she cackled.

You fixed her with a half-hearted glare.

"Don't be that person today, Harley".

"What? I didn't say anything", she drawled, smiling lazily.

You shook your head, amused, when the bell went off again. You were so tempted to rip it from the wall. From the back room, your cousins could still be heard shrieking and laughing. Your new customer noticed immediately and smiled nervously.

You sighed.

"Harls, do you mind?"

She took your cousin, who was starting to whimper, bouncing her on her hip.

"You don't even gotta ask me", she said, throwing a salute over her shoulder at you as she brushed past you to the back room. "I've got the little brats".

~

It was 10:30. Only half an hour more until the shop closed. You stifled a yawn, glancing at the clock above the doorway to the back room for the billionth time that night.

Things had been suspiciously calm in there... well, maybe not calm. But there was less screaming and more delighted squeals and laughter, and you hadn't heard anything break, so you figured Harley must have things under control.

That didn't surprise you. Harley was surprisingly good with kids, if their parents allowed them near her.

It was late. You didn't think you'd be getting much more traffic that night, so you started with your routine, sweeping the floor, refilling empty jars, wiping the counter down.

Leaving the broom and dustpan in the storage closet, you pushed into the back room to find two of your three cousins asleep on the lumpy couch, and Harley playing peekaboo with the youngest.

"What's your secret? What did you do to them? How are they so... quiet?" you mock-gasped.

"They're kids, hun. Sometimes, they've just gotta be heard by someone", she replied, grinning. She rubbed her nose against your cousin's, causing her to scrunch up her little baby face and giggle. "Isn't that right?"

You had to admit, it was pretty heart-warming seeing Harley with your cousins. It made you think of the possibilities of a few Valentine's Days from this one, if maybe you and Harley could be doting over your own baby......

.....

Nah.

There were going to be bruises under your jeans on your shins, you bet, and you still had a bite mark on your hand. You'd wait on the children.

With all three kids, and your one, big, overgrown one, all bundled up for the February cold, you made sure to be the last in line so you could lock the door on your way out. Passing through the front of the store, Harley made a visible "oooh" face before reaching over to pluck a plushie off of the stack in the corner.

She turned to you with an adorable grin, playing with it, a golden retriever in a red and pink, Valentine's Day special-themed Batgirl costume.

"You gonna pay for that?" you asked with a raised brow, already knowing the answer.

"Nope!" she sang, skipping out the door with it.

You shook your head and laughed, tossing a $10 on the counter in her wake.

The kids in the back of your car, asleep, you settled into the driver's seat, Harley beside you, as you twisted your keys in the ignition. Once the car was warmed up enough, you turned to your girlfriend, about to ask if she was ready to go, only to find her staring at you, beaming mischievously, with a vanilla frappe in one hand and the plush puppy in the other. Your name was, surprisingly, spelled right, a lipstick print that you knew HAD to be Harley's under it.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby!" she said excitedly.

You took both the plushie and the drink from her, holding the former in your lap and the latter in the cupholder, as you leaned forward to accept another sweet kiss.

When you pulled away, this time, you didn't bother to wipe away the traces of her cherry-red lipstick staining your smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Harls".