Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harleen Quinzel — high school junior, catcher for the Arkham Diamonds, star hitter, head cheerleader between softball games, and general overachieving badass — was a great many things, but goddammit, she was not a loser. That title was reserved for her little brother, Barry, when he stood between her and the television set on Saturday mornings. But Harleen? She was at the tip-top of the pyramid, god-fucking-dammit. Literally and figuratively.

To be fair, the Diamonds’ loss wasn’t entirely Harley's fault. In fact, she’d argue that she had done absolutely nothing to contribute to their pitiful play that evening. She’d done her part — she’d smacked curve ball after hardball after fastball into the outfields when the game had first begun, what exactly had her teammates done to help?— but despite her best efforts, the Gotham City Ivies had risen above. Weren’t they supposed to be the shitty team, anyway? All funding and no raw talent? At least the Arkham Diamonds had the skill for the game, Harley thought proudly as she kicked the corner of the first base plate and stalked off the field, earning a glare from Coach Lawton.

“Quinzel!” Lawton shouted from the dugout, glaring daggers into her back as she continued to storm away. “Quinzel, get back here or you’re running suicides all night long!”

“'Was already planning on it!” Harley shot over her shoulder as she popped a stick of watermelon flavored bubble gum into her mouth and started gnawing.

And anyway, she thought as she continued her stalk over to the rival team’s dugout, she knew exactly what had lost them the game. Aside from the fact that the Gotham City Ivies had earned a brand-spanking-new assistant coach, they’d also gained a new pitcher. All-around pain in Harley’s fucking ass, more like.

“Hey, Kyle!” Harley insisted, bat still clutched tightly in her right hand as the approached the dugout. “Selina, where ya’ at? Come on out, Kitty, I just wanna talk.”

Selina Kyle groaned, rising from her seat on the bench where she sat with her exhausted (but grinning) team and looking Harley up and down as she approached her through the weak chain link fence separating them.

“Hey, Harl,” Selina offered.

“Congrats on the win, assistant coach,” Harley said unconvincingly, bitterly emphasizing Selina’s new title. “How’s it feel?”

“Look, I couldn’t stay with you guys,” Selina grumbled quietly, a guilty blush creeping up her neck. “You guys had great talent, but I have bills to pay, and I was just volunteering. Gotham City Prep offered me 4 grand a month, how was I supposed to pass that kind of opportunity up?”

“Yeah, but we won, Kitty,” Harley whined, her left hand coming up to clasp the chain link. “You made us good.”

Selina offered a small smile at that and shook her head.

“You made you good, Harl.”

Harley fought the small smile pricking at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah, well. Listen, could you spare three bucks outta that swanky prep-school coach salary for a hotdog?”

Selina rolled her eyes, digging her hand into her pocket and passing a five-dollar bill through the fence to Harley’s grabby fingers. The shorter girl took it eagerly and smiled her mega-watt smile, all seemingly forgiven.

“Thanks, Kitty, you’re a peach!”

“Don’t spend it all in one place!” Selina shouted, but Harley was already halfway to the snack shack.

The Arkham Diamonds had been Selina’s team “back in the day” when she was in high school. She had six years on Harley and used to babysit the younger girl on the weekends when she didn’t have games. She’d taught the platinum blonde everything she knew about softball, explaining the rules, teaching every position, and conditioning her into the star-hitter she now was. And when Harley started at Arkham High School two years ago, Selina was there as assistant coach, ready to groom Harley into the leader she’d eventually become. Together, the pair would lead the Diamonds to two state championships.

That all ended after last year’s victory, when Selina had informed Harley she’d be moving to the dark side. It wasn’t that Harley hated Gotham City Prep, it was just that they were all a bunch of rich-bitch, hoity-toity bootlickers that she wanted to throat punch.

Glancing at the watch on her left wrist, Harley estimated she had about five minutes until her coach was up her ass, yelling at her to get on the bus for home. Bat slung over her shoulder, the hitter stepped up to the snack shack, five-dollar bill in hand.

“Hi, can I get three hotdogs and a coke?” She asked, sliding the five dollars over the counter. The cashier looked at her with a tight-lipped frown.

“I don’t know where you’re coming from, kid, but five dollars here’ll getcha a coke and half a dog.”

“What the fuck?” Harley demanded. “Jesus, I knew this was where the rich kids go, but-”

“Here you go, Olivia,” a voice behind her said, and suddenly an arm was reaching from behind Harley to slap a twenty on the counter. Harley spun around, nearly swinging the bat carelessly into the side of the newcomer’s head.

And there she was. The newest pitcher on the Ivies. The one that had struck Harley out her third time at bat, successfully ending the game.

Pamela Isley.

Her hair was swept up in a ponytail underneath a forest green baseball cap, and she was sucking on some fancy protein shake in a bottle from one of those fucking metal straws Harley couldn’t stand that screamed “I have enough money to pay for useless shit like this!”

“Hey there, Quinzel,” Isley purred. “You hit a pretty mean home run. Sorry I had to break your streak at the end there.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll get you next time,” Harley ground out, turning around and accepting the hotdogs and coke being pushed towards her. She was prideful, sure, but free food was free food. She pocketed the five-dollar bill still on the counter, not even considering to offer it to the redhead, as she stepped out of the line and leaned against the side of the shack to start on her hotdog.

“I’m sure you will,” Pamela smirked, looking Harley over from head to toe and back again. “It is Harleen, right? It’s hard to pay attention to the names they announce during the game.”

“Harley,” Harley replied, mouth stuffed with bun and ketchup and — what the fuck was this hotdog made out of? Grade A pork? “Everyone calls me Harley.”

“I like Harleen,” Pamela insisted, and at that moment Harley found herself powerless to argue. “Anyway, just wanted to say good game.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t stand you!” Harley spat suddenly, swallowing the rest of her first hotdog and removing the wrapper from her second. “Are you always this annoying?”

“I’ve been told I’m quite charming,” Pamela shrugged. “But if you really can’t stand me that much-”

“Okay, Isley, riddle me this,” Harley interrupted, taking a huge gulp of coke that hurt going down. “Where have you been the last two years if you’re so good, huh? Why am I just now hearing of you?”

Pamela smirked, proud that she hadn’t had to introduce herself to the young catcher.

“I’m a transfer. But, to be fair, this is only my second year. I played my junior year with Metro high, but my mom got work outside of Gotham. So, Gotham City Prep it was.”

“So, you’ve played softball for two years and you’ve already got the best backdoor curve in the game?”

Pamela smiled at the slip-up. Harley’s fist clenched around her cup until it started to seep over the rim.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I guess I’m just that good,” the redhead shrugged. “Listen, Harleen, we have two more months of pre-season tournaments to enjoy each other before the real fun begins. I’m sure we’ll be playing each other again real soon. But right now…”

Pamela suddenly leaned in very close, her palm coming to rest against the wood beside Harley’s head, startling the shorter blonde. As she leaned in closer, Harley could smell faint traces of strawberries, honey, and the familiar saltine scent of sweat on a uniform. It was intoxicating.

“Your coach is calling you,” Pamela finished, breath ghosting along the shell of Harley’s ear. And at that, the shorter girl became aware of her name being hurled at full-volume across the field.

“Harleen Quinzel, you have ten seconds to get on this bus or I’m benching you until the season starts!” Coach Lawton bellowed, and Harley knew she’d overstayed her welcome. Dropping her unfinished coke and two wrappers to the ground, she ducked under Pamela’s arm and started to jog off in the direction of her team’s bus, glancing over her shoulder one last time at the pitcher who’d bought her dinner. But Pamela was already walking away, back turned.

God, Harley wanted to smash her in the face with her bat.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Cute catcher that batted the last inning,” Pamela offered nonchalantly to Selina, throwing her equipment into her locker as she tugged a Gotham Prep sweatshirt over her head and toed on her trainers.

“Mhm,” Selina replied noncommittally, scribbling something out on a clipboard. Then, registering, she looked up. “Wait, what?”

“Quin,” Pamela clarified. “She’s cute. Pretty decent hitter, too.”

“Quinzel,” Selina corrected. “And paws off. I used to babysit her when she was a kid, she’s like my sister.”

“Relax, I don’t want to fuck her,” Pamela placated, pulling a backpack strap over her shoulder. Well, not really. She wouldn’t say no to a drunken tryst at a party or fulfilling her duties in the name of Seven Minutes in Heaven…

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” Selina interrupted. “Harley is a no-no. And she’s your stiffest competition. I know what she’s capable of because I taught her everything. And no-“ Selina stopped Pamela then, “-I’m not going to tell you all of their weaknesses, because that’s not fair to her team. My job is to help make you guys stronger, not to help you utilize another team’s shortcomings.”

“But if I were to find out those weaknesses on my own?” Pamela asked as Selina stood from the bench and the pair crossed to the door of the locker room.

“That’s your prerogative,” Selina responded as they opened the gym door and stepped into the crisp January evening air. “But you can’t do your seduction act. Like I said, Harley is off limits. Understood?”

Pamela nodded and offered a mock salute.

“Whatever you say, Coach Kitty.”

Selina groaned, dragging her palm down her face.

“Oh yeah, I heard that.”

“Okay, Isley, three laps around the track,” Selina insisted, crossing her arms. “Call me Kitty again and I’ll make you run until you puke.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Pamela grinned, starting off towards the track to complete her mission.

Selina shook her head, watching her prodigy take three laps around the track and then another two more, just because she could, and chuckled to herself.

Harley was so fucked.

Chapter Text

“I hate her.”

whack!

“I hate her.”

whack!

“I. Hate. Her!”

WHACK!

“Woah, there, Babe Ruth!” Coach Lawton chuckled, stepping onto the field, empty aside from Harley and a pitching machine settled precariously on the mound. “Practice ended an hour ago. You’re allowed to go home, you know, I only own you from 4-6 on weekdays.”

It had been a week since the defeat at Gotham City Prep, and in just two more the rival teams would meet again in the regional tournament. This time, Harley was gonna be ready.

whack!

“Oookaaaaay…” Lawton continued. “You know you have to go get those balls, right? And Zoe does inventory every Friday so I’ll know if you missed one.”

Zoe was the Diamonds’ very own pitcher, Coach Lawton’s daughter, and Harley’s best friend. But that didn’t mean she’d give Harley a free pass if she found out even a single softball was missing.

whack!

“Harley,” Lawton tried again. “Look, if you keep on like this you’re gonna blow out your elbows. Will you talk to me?”

whack!

Lawton marched over to the machine and shut it off before it could fire another ball. Then, turning back to his star pupil, he shrugged his shoulders expectantly.

“So? What’s this about?”

“I let her beat me,” Harley mumbled, tightening her grip around her bat.

“What?” Lawton chuckled, letting a little bit of relief wash over him. “That's what this is about? Look, you aren’t gonna win them all-”

“But I do!” Harley fired back, finally giving him her full attention and startling him to silence. “I win ‘em all, coach. Who the fuck does-”

“Language!”

“-she think she is, joining as a senior in high school like it’s the fuckin’ girl scouts?”

“I imagine she thinks she’s a damn good softball player,” Lawton replied. “And she would be right. Look, Harley, you’re a junior. We haven’t even started the season yet. You have two more successful years ahead of you. There’s time to improve, there’s time to grow. Be thankful you’re meeting someone who’s going to challenge you so early in your career. What do you think would happen if you breezed through high school and only faced someone at your level once you hit a college field?”

Harley mumbled something about scholarships under her breath, but Lawton could tell his words were hitting their mark.

“You’re a damn good catcher, Quinzel, and you can hit a ball like a champ. But you know what? Pamela Isley is just as good at pitching. She’s gonna give you a run for your money, I can promise you that. That doesn’t mean you should blow yourself out because you’re a sore loser.”

Harley knew she was a sore loser, she was the one suffering the side effects of her sore loser-ness, she didn’t need a reminder about how sore of a loser she was. But she relented, slinging her bat over her shoulder and holding up her left hand in defeat.

“Yeah, okay, I get it, coach.”

“Good.” Lawton flicked his head. “Now hit the showers, you smell like shit. Then you’re gonna bring me back all my softballs.”

As Harley was heading back towards the school, Lawton called after her.

“Hey, Harley! If you’re so worried about beating Isley, maybe you could drop cheerleading this year?”

Harley smirked to herself, then shouted back as she began to jog.

“In your dreams, coach!”

There were some compromises she wasn’t willing to make.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Okay, okay, okay, let’s go, pick up the pace!” Coach Wayne shouted at his team as he sprinted alongside them on the Gotham Prep track. “I want you all fast enough to sprint a full home run in 60 seconds!”

“Coach, I pitch. Remind why I have to do this?” Pamela panted, though for her credit she had barely broken a sweat and was faring far better than most of her team.

“Endurance, Isley!” Selina answer for Wayne, jogging up to the other side of Pamela. “And because of that smart mouth of yours!”

“Besides, you make a fair hitter,” Coach Wayne inserted. “I may put you at the plate yet.”

“C’mon, coach, show some respect,” Pamela joked with a dramatic shudder. “Hitter? I hate the word.”

After Coach Wayne had called practice, he approached Pamela, letting the other girls pass by into the locker room.

“Hey, Pam, a word?”

She allowed him to pull her aside as she adjusted the strap of the duffle hanging from her shoulder, gazing at him with intelligent green eyes.

“Look, Pam, about that Quinzel kid… I don’t want you to let her get in your head, okay?”

“Oh, Coach, don’t even worry about that,” Pamela laughed. “I’m gonna be the one getting in her head.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t, Pamela,” Coach Wayne pressed. “She’s… a little intense, if you know what I mean.”

Pamela cocked her head. She did not. Coach Wayne sighed.

“There was an incident last year, almost got her kicked out of the sport for good. I won’t go into it, but let’s just say her swing on field doesn’t have a thing on her swing off.”

“She hit a kid?” Pam concluded, filling in the blanks.

“Well… they couldn’t prove anything. But everyone knows it was her. My point is, I don’t want you hanging around her, alright? I saw you with her after the game last week, and I’m all for making friends with other teams and being a good sport, but Harleen Quinzel isn’t the type you want to piss off. Understood?”

“Yeah, coach,” Pamela answered noncommittally, deciding there was nothing more to be said as she strolled into the locker room. “Whatever you say!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Two weeks came and went. This time, it was the Diamonds’ turn to host, despite their rusted bleachers and graffitied dugouts. The Ivies did their best not to turn their perfectly highlighted button noses up too high at the under-funded facilities.

Harley sat in her team's dugout, legs bouncing in anticipation, as she sucked absent-mindedly on the neck of her Gatorade. Zoe knocked into her shoulder gently, concern in her eyes but a smile on her lips.

“What’s going on in that crazy brain of yours, Quinny?”

Harley sighed, tossing her head back.

“I’m next.”

“Yeah…” Zoe drawled. “So? Don’t you, like, want to play softball? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“But look who’s pitching,” Harley insisted as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s her!”

Zoe had no idea what was so special about ‘her,’ but she smirked as she took in the redhead standing proudly on the pitcher’s mound, blowing a green bubble with the gum in her mouth before snapping it back in with a pop. Was that spearmint?

“Oh, I get it,” Zoe nodded. “Pretty new player. You’re worried she’s gonna distract you, huh? Harley, you useless lesbian.”

“Wh- um, no?!” Harley defended all too quickly. “I’m not worried she— no! And I’m not a lesbian, Zo, I like boys, too.”

“Yeah, but not nearly as much as girls,” Zoe pointed out, and yeah, well, Harley couldn’t correct her there.

“Zoe, it’s not that I’m into Pamela Isley. It’s that she’s the best pitcher I’ve ever seen at our level.”

Zoe grimaced, trying not to take her best friend's words to heart.

"Thanks, Harl. You know, I'm sitting right here."

"Shit," Harley groaned. "Sorry, Zoe. You're great, too. I just meant-"

“Yeah. No. I get it, she’s really fucking good. You got your work cut out for you.”

Harley rolled her eyes.

“You’re supposed to tell me not to worry and that I’m the greatest by far or some shit.”

“What?” Zoe laughed. “No. Girl, you should totally worry. That chick has a stronger right arm than my brother after a week alone in the basement when those nudes of Jennifer Lawrence were leaked.”

Harley shuddered at the thought. Maybe she was a lesbian after all.

“And now batting for the Arkham Diamonds, it’s Harleen Quinzel!”

Harley took in a deep breath and stood, looking to Zoe once more for assurance. The pitcher just shrugged and gave a pitiful thumbs up before smacking Harley’s ass as the blonde headed for the field.

Stepping on to the home plate, Harley gripped the bat in her fingers, squeezing the familiar weight and allowing it to ground her. The cheering dulled and her vision steadied as she gazed halfway across the field to a smirking Pamela Isley. The redhead was chomping away happily — she had the advantage of having been on the field for the last twenty minutes, an edge that Harley did not enjoy. But Harley was home. This was Diamond territory, and Pamela Isley had just trespassed onto her property.

Harley suddenly realized why Pamela had pitched nothing but curveballs since the start of the game as she lined up her swing expecting exactly that, surprised when she was instead met with a rise ball. Winding up for the wrong pitch, her swing was doomed from the start as she swung and missed.

“Strike 1!”

Harley growled under her breath. Okay, so don’t expect a play, just adapt. Sure, she could do that. She usually did that.

After a moment, Pamela shot over another smile and geared up again, pulling her right arm back in a windup. Just before releasing, she winked in Harley’s direction and licked her lips and god fucking dammit Harley didn’t even swing!

It was perfectly centered in her strike zone.

“Strike 2!”

“Yeah, I get it!” Harley shouted unconventionally at the disembodied announcer’s voice. Pamela snorted, thoroughly delighted in the shorter girl’s despair. She gave little time for recovery before she was winding up again. But this time, Harley was ready. She dug her left toe into red clay, loosened her ribs with a tight wriggle, and zeroed in on the only thing that mattered: that little green ball. Pam, for her part, played it clean: no winking or licking. Winding up, she released a picture-perfect change-up, and Harley zeroed in, and her grip tightened, and her ribs contracted as she felt the momentum carry the bat forward, and then…

Harley hit a mother fucking home run.

Pamela’s jaw went slack as Harley leaped into the air with a giant whoop and began to sprint to first base, throwing her own wink the pitcher’s way. She giggled and batted her eyes as she jogged to second. She smirked and waggled her eyebrows on the trot to third. And as she was nearing the home plate, she sent a big, fat smooch across the field to her dumbfounded rival.

Coach was gonna have her ass for that little show, but Harley didn’t care. She’d done it.

And the crowd went wild.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

They met again at the snack shack, Harley munching on her one dollar hotdog, thank you very fucking much. Coach Lawton had asked to speak to her after showers, and the blonde had an idea what the talk was going to be about, but she figured she deserved to revel in her glory a little while longer. It was, after all, her home run that had won the Diamonds their home game. So she leaned against her snack shack, content to simply polish off her second dog and wash it down with a coke, until she felt a disturbance in the force.

Cracking open an eye, she saw Pamela Isley standing before her.

She was a little sweatier than the last time they’d met like this, but the same smirk was playing on her lips in between the bubbles she blew with her — ah, yes, she was close enough now that Harley could tell she was right about the spearmint.

“Good game,” Pamela offered. Harley laughed.

“So you really are a good sport, huh?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have said anything,” Pamela shrugged, “but my coach told me to stay away from you.”

“So… you’re doin’ the exact opposite of what your coach told you?”

“Naturally.”

Harley started to smile, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“I hit a home run off you,” she pointed out, as if Pamela could have forgotten.

“Yeah, and I struck you out last game,” Pamela reminded her. “Looks like we’re both pretty good at what we do.”

“No,” Harley corrected. “No, you were better than me, and I trained and I worked and now I’m better than you.”

“Harleen,” Pamela chuckled, “that’s not how the game works.”

“Yeah, well, the fuck do you know about the game?” Harley grumbled. “You’ve been playing for less time than I’ve been hookin’ up with Arthur Curry in his pickup truck during my lunch release.”

It was the first time Harley had seen Pamela falter, but the redhead was quick to recover.

“Thought only lesbians played softball,” she joked pathetically. Harley quirked a brow.

“That’s very closed-minded. And either you’re accusing me of being a lesbian, or you’re admitting that you’re one yourself. Or both?”

Pamela swallowed. This wasn’t how she planned the conversation would go — she preferred it when Harley was in the redhead’s domain at Gotham Prep, complaining about overpriced hotdogs.

“Relax, Red, I’m just kiddin’,” Harley smirked, knocking her fist into the taller girl’s shoulder. Pamela jerked a little at the contact, fearing the worst, but was surprised when the motion just barely glanced off her shoulder softly. She was even more surprised when she felt her skin tingle where the catcher’s knuckles had brushed against her arm.

“Right…” Pam tried. “Red is… not something people call me.”

“Well, what wouldja prefer?” Harley asked with a flare of annoyance. Not that she cared, why would she worry about what this asshole wanted?

“Pam is fine,” Pamela replied. “Pam is good.”

“If I call you Pam, you gotta call me Harley,” Harley negotiated. “Only my ma calls me Harleen and it’s when I’m in deep fuckin’ shit.”

“I can do Harley,” Pam smiled. “That’s cute. Like Harley Allen.”

“What? The fuck? No, it’s ‘cause I was conceived on the back of a motorcycle.”

Ah. So the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree, then.

“K, Pam-A-Lamb, I gotta go get yelled at. Glad we could do this again. Listen, no hard feelings, right?”

Pam smirked as she watched the catcher run off towards her school, shaking her head.

No, feelings certainly weren’t what was hard at the moment.

Chapter Text

“So,” Selina started, swirling the bamboo stick in her too-expensive coffee. She looked up expectantly across the table at Pam, who was typing away rapidly on her phone.

“Pam.”

“Uhuh,” Pam responded noncommittally, gaze steady on her device.

“Pammy.”

“Hm?”

“Pamela.”

Pam looked up, irked.

“Selina, I’m trying to lock in a prom date here.”

Selina laughed, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s barely February, dumbass. You’ve got three months for that.”

“Yeah, but the season is at an all-time high in April, I’m going to be way too busy to woo boys by the time proposals start.”

Selina rolled her eyes.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Harvey Dent, of course,” Pam scoffed. “He won prom king of the junior prom last year. If I go with him, I’m a shoo-in for queen.”

“Right.” Selina took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “Well, this may come as a surprise to you, but I didn’t ask you for coffee because I want to talk about boys or prom. But I will add in very quickly that if you give it up to that bag of dicks just so you can wear some stupid plastic crown on your head, I will personally interrupt you in flagrant delicto and cut his penis off while you watch.”

The corner of Pam’s mouth twitched.

“Is that supposed to be a threat? I think I might enjoy that, Kitty.”

“You fucking watch yourself, Isley,” Selina warned, pointing a finger across the table. “I'm trying to keep you safe."

"I'm a lesbian, Selina."

"Yeah, and a power-hungry bitch," Selina added. "I wouldn't put it past you. Anyway, that's not why we're here. I wanna talk to you about Harley.”

“Of course you do.”

“Goddamn it, Isley. I’m serious. I don’t want you fucking with her.”

Pam cocked her head to the side. Selina sighed.

“Okay, Pam, if you ever tell this to anyone I’ll rip your lungs out through your asshole. But Harley… is really special to me. I don’t have anyone but her. And I feel really shitty for abandoning her just as she was starting to get noticed by colleges. I care about her. A lot. And I know that you are particularly good at…”

She debated for a moment, searching for the best possible word choice.

“…charming… people. The thing is, Harley might look like a goofball with surface-level emotions, but she feels shit. Deeply. And if you keep toying with her like you have been, then she’s going to latch onto you and you’re gonna have to break her.”

“That’s not fair,” Pam scoffed. “Did you see how she treated me during the last game? If anything, she’s toying with me. Not that it would work if she was, of course.”

Of course.

“She’s acting like that because she likes you, dickwad,” Selina snapped. “To what extent, I don’t know yet, but you need to ease up on the gas, d'you understand? Pam, I like you, I do, and the Ivies are my team, but if you fuck with my… my… my Harley then I’m gonna have to tear you a new asshole. Comprende?”

Jesus, why did everyone think she was obsessed with Harleen Quinzel?

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley was having a considerably good day. She’d gotten a 100 on her psych quiz, they’d served mac and cheese at lunch, and when she and Arthur Curry made out in his pickup truck he’d actually offered to go down on her. It was a perfect day. That was, until she arrived at the softball field to find Selina standing and laughing with Coach Lawton.

“Kitty!” Harley cried, running over and jumping into the older woman’s arms. A lot of the other girls who’d been with the team were crowded around, as well, excited by the surprise visit from their old assistant coach.

“What are you doing here?” Harley asked as she drew back. “Coming back to the light? I knew 4k a month couldn’t keep ya!”

“Yeah, ha ha,” Selina deadpanned playfully and eased Harley off of her. “No, actually. Did Lawton not tell you guys?”

Harley’s smile faltered.

“Tell us what?”

“Oh.” Selina stiffened a little. “Well, Gotham Prep’s field is getting a new astroturf installed and we’re sorta field-less for the next two weeks. Since I used to coach here and I know all the girls on the team, Lawton said that the Ivies could train here with you guys until our field’s done.”

“Sorry,” Harley filled in. “You want us to share the field with the Gotham Prep assholes?”

“Hey,” Lawton corrected. “Watch it. They’re our guests.”

“Listen, I’m just sayin’ what we’re all thinkin’!” Harley grumbled. “I doubt the hivies — sorry, Ivies, are gonna wanna play on our poor people field, anyway. How could anyone possibly think this is a good idea?”

“This was such a good idea!”

Everyone looked towards the source of the new voice, discovering it belonged to none other than Coach Bruce Wayne, who was striding across the field towards the group with his Ivies in tow. Reaching them, he thrust his hand out, a surprisingly warm smile on his usually stoic face.

“Floyd,” he said, and Lawton shook his hand, returning the smile.

“Hey there, Bruce. Glad to have you and your girls.”

“Yes, well, we’re really grateful to be here.” Wayne turned to his team at that, gesturing expectantly. “Right, girls?”

A mumble of half-hearted ‘yes’s’ was his only reply. Bruce turned back with a stiff nod.

“They’ll warm-up. So, how do you wanna play this out?”

“Well,” Lawton wagered, “the girls gotta get dressed. Why don’t we let everyone get situated in the locker rooms, get suited up, and we’ll meet back here on the field for a little… group warm-up.”

Wayne nodded with a laugh, and the two shared a knowing look.

“Assistant Coach Kyle?” Wayne asked. Selina twitched at the formality. “Could you accompany the girls to the locker room to make sure everyone stays friendly?”

Glancing to her left at a very flushed Harley glaring at a very smug-looking Pam, Selina sighed. If she was being honest, “friendly” was exactly what she was worried about.

“Yeah, alright. C’mon, girls, let’s hit the lockers.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Okay, ladies, hope you all have your own padlocks, because your shit will absolutely be stolen if you don’t,” Selina said, concluding the tour. “And no, we don’t have them built-in like at Gotham City Prep.”

Harley’s chest puffed out with pride at the word “we,” as if a part of Selina was still star hitter and captain of the Arkham Diamonds softball team.

“Hey, ‘Lina, none of us have locks,” Pam spoke up for the team, and the sea of girls behind her nodded.

“Well, guess you’re gonna a haft double up,” the Selina answered with a shrug. “I want every Ivy paired up with a Diamond. Oh, stop whining, you’re lucky these girls haven’t mauled you yet. Go ahead, find a partner.”

The Ivies were visibly nervous. This was not the side of town that they were used to, and the Diamonds were staring at them like they were slabs of meat ready to be eviscerated. But Pamela Isley, to her credit, marched right over to the locker closest to the locker room door, and plopped her equipment down, turning towards the room as if looking for the owner. Selina groaned knowingly.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Harley spoke up. “You knew!”

“Oh, is this yours?” Pam purred, already beginning to unpack. “At Gotham Prep, the locker closest to the locker room door it generally reserved for the captain. I just figured I’d want to pair up with the player with the most experience.”

“We haven’t picked captains yet,” Harley said through gritted teeth as she marched up to the taller girl.

“Hmm,” Pam replied distractedly. “Neither have we. Guess you and I are off to a good start, huh?”

Selina was suddenly very aware that the entire room was eyeing the interaction, most with sneers of distaste, and decided now was the time to intervene.

“Right! Well, ladies, pair up and change up. Meet on the field in five minutes. Go!”

Harley grumbled as the room dissolved into chatter and movement, eyeing the pitcher before her up and down.

“You’re gonna make my life a living hell, aren’t you?” The blonde sighed.

Catching the hemline of her own shirt, Pam smirked as she tugged at the fabric and pulled the cotton over her head to expose a toned abdomen and taut, tanned skin. Harley felt her eyes bug out of her head before she could muster the common sense to tear her gaze away. Pam let out a soft chuckle, dropping her shirt to the floor and reaching for the fly of her jeans.

“Indubitably.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

After the mock game at the tail end of practice, which met Harley with a crushing blow to the ego, the catcher power walked to the lockers as quickly as her legs could take her. The other players stood awkwardly as Lawton called after her, insisting she stay for the mandatory post-practice debrief, but the catcher ignored him. Zoe, standing in as third baseman for practice, knew all too well the fire burning in her friend’s eyes and knew better than to follow her.

Other parties were not so wise.

Throwing the door open, Harley's cleats crunched over the linoleum tile as she stomped over to her locker, taking three tries to finally unclasp her lock and tear it away from the locker door. She wrenched it open, forgetting that she was sharing it with someone else, and yelped in frustration as a duffle bag flew out and smacked her in the stomach.

“Jeeeeesus fuckin’ Christ!” she bellowed, throwing the duffle to the ground and fighting the urge to stamp her foot childishly.

“Am I interrupting something?” A husky voice asked from behind her. She jumped into the air with a gasp, then quickly painted on the angriest face she could muster and turned on her heel to stare into the eyes of Pamela Isley.

“I thought we were cool, blondie,” the redhead said with a pout.

“You,” Harley spat venomously. “I am so… sooooo not interested in playing your little game today.”

“So I struck you out tonight,” Pam shrugged, stooping down to pick up her duffle and graciously choosing not to fault the shorter player for it. “Twice. So what? Remember the time you struck a run off me in a public game? You win some, you lose some.”

“You don’t fuckin’ get it, do ya, Red?” Harley hissed. “I win them all. I’m that fuckin’ good. And now you’re in the lead!”

“In the lead?” Pamela repeated incredulously. “Are you keeping score based on who trips the other up the most? I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it. This is a game, not an enmity. You’re pitting us against each other when you should be working with your team to beat mine. It’s not you versus me. You’re still-”

“Do you wanna get pizza or somethin’?” Harley interrupted suddenly (and a bit aggressively), and for the first time ever, she saw surprise in the taller girl’s eyes.

“Uhh… what?”

“I was just thinkin’, y’know, since we’re gonna have to get along for the next couple weeks, maybe you might wanna get pizza with me or… or somethin’. So I can start lookin’ at you like you’re a real human being and not the pitching machine I abuse after practice every night.”

Pamela’s surprise melted into a soft smile, shaking her head as she reached past Harley to grab her sneakers out of their shared locker. Tossing them to the floor to step into, she looked up at Harley and offered her her best coy smirk.

“You’re on.”

Chapter Text

Pam didn’t know what she’d expected Harley to look like outside of her uniform, but she wasn’t surprised when the girl came bounding out of the locker room at last in booty shorts, a tied off baseball t-shirt, and Adidas sneakers. She chuckled despite herself.

“Harley, it’s February.”

Harley blinked.

“Yeah, I know what month it is, Red.”

“Aren’t you, I don’t know, cold?”

Harley laughed and pushed past her, headed towards the gym parking lot where she always parked.

Pam had stayed behind as her team loaded up onto the bus to head back to Gotham Prep, earning a few odd glances from her teammates. But they respected their pitcher (or at least feared her, anyway) so no one had said a word. Not even Coach Wayne. Selina had eyed her up, but when Pam quirked her brow and lifted her chin pridefully, the assistant coach just rolled her eyes and flicked the brim of her star player’s hat, knocking it down a little into her face.

“You be good, Pamela,” Selina said in a low voice, but there was a twinkle in her eye as she winked and turned on her heel to the school bus.

Pam never took long to get ready, but she learned then that Harley liked to take long, luxurious showers after practice, and the last of her teammates had already gotten dressed and headed home by the time the blond was joining Pam outside the locker room and led them towards the gym lot.

“Well, this is me,” Harley said with a clear of her throat as they approached the far end of the parking lot. Pam’s gaze followed Harley’s and her jaw twitched.

It was a Harley.

“Oh my god,” Pam grinned. “Oh, this is rich. Of course you drive a motorcycle. A Harley Davidson motorcycle. You've really embraced your brand, haven't you?”

Harley felt a swell of pride in her chest. Pam faltered.

“Oh god, this isn’t the one you were conceived on, is it?”

“Ew, Red, no! That bike is long gone. I couldn’t afford a car and my mom needed hers to get to and from work. So, junkyard fix-up job it was.”

Pam circled the bike a few times, taking it in. For a supposed yard scrap, Harley had done a pretty fucking phenomenal job making it look like it was brand-spanking new. It was slender with a black paint job and a tiny red diamond logo decal on the right side of the fuel tank. Pam smiled at the subtle nod to the softball team. She could tell the bike was a source of pride for Harley by the way the girl in question seemed two inches taller and was practically beaming at her side, and Pam found herself smiling, too. Straightening up, she cleared her throat.

“So, where’s our stuff go?”

“I usually fit what I can in the saddlebags and strap the rest to the back,” Harley replied, already doing just that. “There’s enough room for both of us. I keep a second helmet in one of the saddlebags so that’ll free up some room if you wear it.”

Which of course Pam was gonna wear it because you should always fucking practice motor safety.

The ride was over way sooner than Pam would’ve liked. She would never admit it to a soul, but riding on the back of a motorcycle with Harley between her legs, arms wrapped around the blonde tightly, cheek rested against her back, Pam felt closer to peace than she had in a really, really long time.

But all good things had to come to an end, and her stomach was starting to rumble, so when she felt Harley toe the kickstand and lean the bike to an angle, she jumped off quickly (maybe a little too quickly).

“You’re gonna love this place,” Harley assured as she tugged off her helmet (and holy sweet Jesus her helmet hair had no right to look that sexy). Jogging ahead, the blonde tugged the door and held it for Pam, surprising the redhead with her gentility. “I’ve been comin’ here with my family since I was a little kid.”

Pam smiled, trying not to let the blush in her cheeks show as she ducked into the mom and pop pizzeria.

It was cute. An arcade occupied the back corner, cardboard stands of certain celebrity drivers or another stood at attention, and neon signs littered the walls. Pam found herself awed by the simplicity. This was a place people came to have fun.

“Cute, ain’t it?” Harley asked, appearing at her side.

Pam nodded.

“How did you know I’d never been here?”

“You go to Gotham Prep, and live uptown,” Harley laughed. “I may not be smart, but I ain’t dumb.”

Pam smiled as Harley pushed past her to give a fist bump to the boy taking orders at the cash register. Harley Quinzel was definitely smart, despite what she might’ve believed about herself.

After going back and forth between about fifteen different options, Pamela concluded that Harley was the most indecisive person she’d ever met. Finally, she’d gently pushed the catcher aside and ordered for the two of them: a 16 inch with mushrooms, peppers, olives, and sausage. Harley pouted as they got their fountain drinks and slid into their booth to wait.

“You didn’t order stuffed crust,” she said with a sulk.

“Jesus, Harley, we aren’t even supposed to be eating crust,” Pam said with a chuckle. “The season is starting soon.”

“Yeah, we need to be eating more calories! What’s up with ordering a 16 inch?”

“Oh,” Pam shrugged, “I thought if I ordered extra we could take some home afterward.”

“Extra?” Harley’s eyes bulged. “I could eat a 16er by myself, Red.”

Pam’s eyes brows raised involuntarily. Harley wasn’t lying. Her metabolism must have been insane for her to maintain a body like that. There was hardly any fat on her whatsoever. And not mention her muscle definition-

Pam swallowed and felt a fuzzy swelling in her chest as she cleared her throat.

“Y’okay, Red?” Harley asked. “You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, fine,” Pam lied. “Anyway, you invited me out and here we are. Is this where you learn all my secrets and take me down via psychological warfare?”

“That’s funny, I woulda pegged you as that type,” Harley fired back, leaning on her elbows. “Barely got you off the softball field and that’s what you wanna talk about?”

“Well, that’s what I’m asking, what do you want to talk about?”

Harley thought for a moment, eyes flitting up to the ceiling.

“Tell me somethin' about yourself.”

Pam swallowed.

“What?”

“Y’know, like a fun fact,” Harley prompted. “Somethin' that sets you apart.”

“I don’t… know if I have one of those?”

“You must be shit in a job interview,” Harley chuckled, and Pam’s brows furrowed. “Oh, right, you’re rich, you’ve never had one.”

“Alright, listen,” Pam started, feathers clearly ruffled, but Harley’s hands shot across the table and landed on hers as the blonde grinned.

“Relax, Red, I’m joking!” The catcher laughed, offering a gentle squeeze as amends. Pam looked down at the pale hands covering hers and swallowed. Harley noticed the awkward intimacy in her attempt to placate and pulled her hands back quickly as if she’d been burned.

“Sorry. Fun fact?”

Pam cleared her throat again.

“Uh, yeah, okay. I want to study botanic biochemistry in college.”

Harley’s brows furrowed.

“That sounds… really hard.”

“It’s not,” Pam laughed. “Really, you just have to understand how chemicals affect plants. For example, plants synthesize a number of unique polymers like-”

Pam stopped herself, looking up at Harley. Painted on her face was an endearing but unconvincing attempt at interest, and Pam knew that she was not in the right company for such lectures.

“Um, maybe I’ll get into that some other time. Yes, I want to study plants.”

“That’s cool,” Harley hummed. “I wanna study psychiatry.”

Pam’s jaw dropped.

“You… you wanna… huh?”

“Psychiatry,” Harley repeated, pleased with herself. “I’ll have to take what I can at the community college and take a few loans out, but my ma and I are pretty determined. And I work hard in school. It don’t come natural, but I buckle down when the going gets tough.”

“Why psychiatry?” Pam asked, still a little bit beside herself.

“I like knowing what’s going on between someone’s ears. Like to know what makes a madman tick. Like to know that I’m not like that, I guess.”

Pam suddenly remembered what Coach Wayne had said about Harley striking someone with a baseball bat and wondered now if it was true. And if it was true, was this Harley’s way of showing remorse?

“But anyway, that wasn’t gonna be my fun fact,” Harley interrupted unknowingly, taking the straw of her cherry coke between her lips and taking a deep pull. Pam swallowed.

“Oh, yeah? What was your fun fact?”

Harley smirked devilishly.

“Didja know I’m a cheerleader, Red?”

Red did not know she was a cheerleader, Red.

Pam shook her head and fought viciously against the images already clouding her vision and her judgment.

“Mhm. I cheer for all of the boy’s sports games. I do such a good job that they let me keep it up during lacrosse season, even though it overlaps with girl’s softball. But since I spent the first half of the year runnin' practice and gettin' the routine down, they don’t mind. Especially since I do gymnastics over the summer.”

Focus, Pamela.

“You run practice? So you’re the cheer captain on top of all that?” Pam asked, and Harley nodded proudly. “Cheer captain, star softball player, A-student, and you do gymnastics over the summer?”

“Well shit, ya make it sound so impressive,” Harley blushed.

“It is, Harley. That’s very impressive.”

Harley seemed to open up towards the praise, and if Pam had to guess, she imagined the girl sitting across from her wasn’t used to it.

“So when can I watch you cheer?”

Harley almost choked on her drink, spitting the straw out of her mouth and coughing a few times.

Oh yeah. The ball was back in Pam’s court.

“Wh- What do you mean?” Harley asked, finding her breath again.

“I mean,” Pamela answered, leaning over the table gently, “you just bragged to me about how goddamn good you are at cheerleading, Miss Cheer Captain, Miss I-Do-Gymnastics-During-Summers, so when do I get to watch you put your money where your mouth is?”

Harley swallowed.

“There’s a boy’s lacrosse game on the soccer field this Friday after softball practice. If you wanted to, um… Zoe always comes… Selina, too, sometimes, if you wanna… come.”

Pam smiled, leaning back into her seat.

“I’ll come.”

Chapter Text

“I have no idea how you do it, Harl,” Zoe said with a chuckle as Harley efficiently finished toweling off from her shower as most of the girls were just barely stepping in. “Is it really worth it?”

“Ivy leagues — shit! — love extracurriculars, Zo,” Harley reminded as she rammed her knee into an open locker door in her hurry to change. “And anyway, cheerleadin’s fun. I like doin’ it.”

“Hey,” Pam said with a smile, sidling up to their shared locker door. “Excited for tonight, Harley?”

Zoe was definitely missing something.

“Oh, super!” was Harley’s girlish reply.

Super? What the fuck?

Pam began unbuttoning her jersey, and a light blush dusted across Harley’s cheeks as she turned away, which did not go unnoticed by her best friend.

Where was the fire? Where was the venom? Where was the hatred, goddammit?

“Uh… Harl, can I talk to you?” Zoe asked.

“Oh, uhm, I’m kinda in a rush, technically I was supposed to be on the soccer field five min-“

Zoe didn’t let her finish as she pulled her best friend over to a relatively deserted corner.

“Hey, gigglebox, what the fuck is going on?” the pitcher asked in a sharp whisper. “I thought you hated Pamela Isley.”

“Wh- I do, Zo,” Harley defended unconvincingly. “I just went out for pizza with her to get to know her a bit since we’re gonna be sharing a locker, and she said she’d come watch me cheer-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harley, are you kidding me? You took her on a date and then she promised to watch you dance in a mini skirt and crop top?”

“Well, she paid, so technically she took me on a date… if one would call it a date which one shouldn’t because itwasn’tadate!”

Zoe’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling as if silently asking a higher power for guidance before taking a hold of her best friend’s shoulders.

“Look, Harls. I know you’re horny. I know you’re hot. You could have any girl or boy you wanted. Just, please not Pamela Isley. Or at least wait until the season’s over? Okay?”

“Whatever ya say, Zo, butcha don’t have anything to worry about,” Harley assured as she turned away and walked back to her locker. “I got it all under control. Now let me get dressed.”

Pam, wanting to let Harley’s entrance be a surprise, hadn’t stuck around to see Harley change. Instead, she’d grabbed her gear and headed to the soccer field for the lacrosse game, absolutely flabbergasted to discover that Arkham High only charged for football games. Shaking her head, she ascended the home-side bleachers and searched for an empty spot.

She felt a little odd, hailing from another school and sitting in the sea of red and black, especially since she was still in her uniform boasting Gotham Prep’s famous green and gold. Regardless, she found a spot where she could sit and do homework until the cheerleaders came onto the field and settled down, pulling her laptop from her backpack as the boys jogged on. She tried not to feel too disgruntled as the onlookers around her rose to their feet in a roar of shouts, instead focusing on her laptop. The redhead had only just started her powerpoint on the Calvin cycle when a familiar voice disrupted her from her thoughts.

“Isley?”

Pam looked up, brows knit, and felt her heart sink when her eyes clamped onto Selina.

Oh, fuck.

“Hey, ‘Lina,” Pam tried lamely as her assistant coach swooped down and sat next to her. The brunette shook her head.

“I’d ask why you’re here, but I have a feeling.”

Pam nodded guiltily, looking out at the field and allowing herself to be distracted by the taste of bile that came up in her throat at the disgusting display of overwhelming masculinity before her.

“Do you like her or are you fucking with her?”

This was a Catch-22. If Pam claimed to be using Harley to discover her weaknesses, Selina would chastise and correct her. On the flip side, if Pam claimed she had feelings for the psychotically endearing blonde, then she’d absolutely be getting the “if you hurt her” talk, and neither sounded like a good option to the redhead. Still, Pam had to wonder what the true answer was. She wasn’t even sure she could answer herself honestly. Which was… concerning.

“Thinking mighty hard over there, Red.”

Red. Pam smiled at the nickname and who it reminded her of, and, well, she supposed her question was answered.

God fucking dammit.

“I don’t wanna beat a dead horse or anything,” Selina finally concluded. “Just know she’s got an angry older sister type in her corner who wouldn’t shy away from knocking the ever-loving shit out of you, love you as I may. And I swear to god if you start drooling and making cow eyes at-”

As if on cue, the announcer’s voice sliced through the roar of the crowd.

“And here they come, lead by their captain, junior Harleen Quinzel, the Arkham High Cheerleading Squad!”

At the uproar that burst in her ears, Pam could tell immediately that this audience wasn’t here to watch boys catch a tiny ball in a net.

“Holy shit,” was all she could shout over the crowd, and Selina nodded with her hands clapped over her ears. They looked out to the field as the cheer squad came running on and Pam felt her heart jump into her throat.

Think. Kosher. Thoughts.

Harley was at the front of the formation, a huge grin plastered on her face that she must’ve adopted from her gymnastics competitions. That smile was just about the only sweet thing about her, Pam recognized, as she devoured the girl in uniform before her.

Sort of. There wasn’t much uniform at all, honesty. The skirt was short — really short — like when she twirled Pam could see the bottom curve of the blonde’s ass kind of short. The crop top was little more than a glorified sports bra, covering slightly more shoulder blade and exposing four of Harley’s six glorious abs. And the entirety of the blonde’s ridiculous arms was exposed, leaving nothing to the imagination as her muscles twitched and flexed to swing her glittery pom moms about. Her red and black smokey eye added a nice “fuck me slowly against your bedroom wall” kind of quality that had Pam shuddering just slightly.

“Put your tongue back in your head, Isley.”

Pam couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away to glare at Selina. She literally couldn’t look away. She really was fucking hopeless.

“I get it, she’s hot,” Selina whined. “Can you please stop drooling in your lap? I’d rather you not cream your panties over my -ish baby sister while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Sorry,” Pam answered hoarsely, finally looking away for a moment to compose herself. When she looked back up, Harley’s eyes were on her, and she was grinning, standing still for just a moment amidst the crowd of restless cheerleaders.

“You came,” the blonde mouthed, and Pam nodded, shooting an out-of-character thumbs up. Selina fake vomited.

Pam never once tore her gaze from Harley that night, amazed by the display of agility and sheer athleticism before her. She knew what Harley was capable of on a softball field, but this was something else entirely. Splits, cartwheels, pyramids — Harley did it all. And she did it with the most genuine, shit-eating grin on her face.

And the sexy uniform certainly didn’t hurt.

After the game, Selina stood up and groaned, twisting around to crack her back.

“I’m going to lockers to see Harley,” the older woman informed Pam. “You wanna come?”

Pamela most certainly did wanna come, yes please. Rather than voice these thoughts, she simply nodded dumbly. Selina smirked.

“Okay, Isley, let’s get on then.”

They trekked back to the girl’s locker rooms that Pam had come to know so well over the past five days and Selina banged out a warning knock before swinging the door open. Pam was surprised to find just Harley sitting there, already back in her street clothes. The jeans and hoodie were a stark contrast to the display she’d just seen, and Pam felt as if she could see every muscle contour through the fabric, she'd committed them to memory so well.

“The other girls just go home in uniform usually,” Harley explained as she rubbed lotion on her hands. “It’s so late, they don’t wanna stay. But my mom doesn’t like to see me in such skimpy clothes.”

Pamela simply could not relate.

“You were great, kiddo,” Selina said, helping the girl to her feet and wrapping her in a big bear hug. Pam suddenly felt as if she were intruding on a private moment and looked away from the embrace.

“Thanks, Kitty,” Harley hummed into the taller woman’s neck. “Glad you came. And you!”

Suddenly Harley was pulling out of Selina’s arms and leaping into Pamela’s, which surprised the two taller women.

“I’m so happy you made it. Didja like it? Did I do good?”

Harley pulled back but kept her arms wrapped around Pam’s waist, and the redhead wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of her face and tell her how wonderful she'd been. Instead, she cleared her throat bashfully and offered her best smile.

“You were great, Harls.”

Harley smiled at the new nickname — new coming from Pam — and buried her face in the taller girl’s chest as she hugged her again. Maybe she was loopy from two hours of softball and an hour and half of cheerleading for an audience after a full day of school, but she couldn’t imagine anywhere she’d rather be.

Pam looked up at Selina from over Harley’s head and offered a small shrug. Selina just gave her the stink eye before announcing loudly “okay, Harley Bug, I’m headed home. You did great tonight, alright kid?”

“Love you, Kitty!” Harley called in response after Selina as the brunette exited the locker room. Then, tilting her chin up, she smiled her megawatt smile at her new friend.

“I really am glad ya came, Red,” she said.

Pam couldn’t speak, so she nodded. The sudden display of affection, especially after the weeks of hostility, was definitely throwing her brain out of whack, and though she wasn’t displeased by the change of pace, she couldn’t say she had an ounce of an idea how to handle it.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Harley asked, squeezing tighter as her brows knit together. Pam laughed a little.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just-”

“Great! ‘Cause I was thinkin’ we could get some pizza.”

Pizza. Right. That was what friends did together.

Harley jumped out of Pam’s arms to reach for her backpack, but the pitcher got to it first, hoisting it over her shoulder.

"My, what a gentleman," Harley joked. "Y'don't hafta do that."

"I want to," Pam answered earnestly. "It's the least I could do since you're driving me home, right?"

She suddenly realized how thankful she was to have been invited out to dinner since she had missed the bus back to Gotham Prep and didn’t have another ride home. She could call an Uber, but she shuddered at the thought of riding alone in a stranger’s car.

"Sure, I can give ya a ride," Harley nodded. "So long as we're still getting pizza."

“Pizza sounds great,” Pam smiled, reaching for the door to pull it open. "We can even get stuffed crust since you busted your ass tonight."

Harley grinned and skipped halfway out of the door that was held ajar for her. Something, however, seemed to capture her attention mid-skip as she dug her heels into the ground and let out a soft gasp.

“Arthur, you came!”

Pam had just enough time to peer out the door to take in this ‘Arthur’ in question. He had a full tattoo sleeve on his arm, a piercing in one of his wild, unruly eyebrows, and a concerning amount of facial hair for a high school upperclassman.

She did not like him one fucking bit.

Her eyes narrowed immediately, but he couldn't return the gesture, because he wasn't' looking at Pam. He was looking at Harley with a big fucking smile on his face. Without skipping a beat, Pamela’s heart plummeted as Harley leaped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist, and planted her lips on his.

Chapter Text

She’d invited him to dinner.

Pamela couldn’t fucking believe Harleen had invited Arthur to dinner.

After a few very awkward seconds of face-smushing, Harley’s heels had hit the pavement again as she smiled up at Arthur much as she’d just done to Pam not two fucking minutes ago. It wasn’t like she was jealous, it was just… look, the guy looked sketchy. To her. He looked sketchy to her!

“Hey,” Harley had hummed, bicycling back and forth on her heels, having apparently fallen back to her hyperactive nature. “I was just gonna go get some pizza.”

We were just going to get some pizza, actually.

“D’ya wanna come?”

Pam’s eyes bugged out of her head, which she made no effort to conceal, because neither party was paying a fucking lick of attention to her, anyway.

“Pizza?” The guy — Arthur — repeated. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Hell yeah? Fucking frat-boy-in-training ass--

“Oh!” Harley jumped, turning (finally) Pam’s way and gesturing for the redhead to come over. “This is Pam. She, um, pitches for Gotham Prep. We’ve played a bit before.”

“Hey, Pam, nice to meet you,” Arthur said, surprisingly cordially.

“I’d prefer Pamela, if it’s all the same to you,” Pam clipped shortly as she extended her hand towards him and made sure to squeeze his as tightly in her grip as she could.

He covered his wince well and drew back.

“Cool. Pamela. You wanna get pizza with us?”

Do I want to get pizza with you?

“Pam was already sorta invited,” Harley added most graciously, and Pam finally felt a little of her pride return to her.

“Cool! We’ll meet there then,” Arthur said with a smile. “Lemme walk you to Betty.”

Betty? Harley’s Harley had a name?

“Perfect! We’ll just meet at Leo’s!”

And that was how they’d ended up in the pizzeria, the same pizzeria Harley had taken Pam to not five days ago, shoved in the booth at the back. It was one of those two-person booths, but Harley had insisted on it and smushed next to Arthur in the tiny seat, leaving Pam to sit across from them alone.

She watched in disgust as Arthur wolfed down his entire 16 inch and half of Harley’s. Which was bullshit, because Harley had eaten most of their shared 16 inch when she and Pam had gone out, and had admitted to being able to eat an entire one on her own. Was she eating less to make herself look more feminine?

Or was Pam just reading into this entire situation way too much and probably should just sit and enjoy dinner with her new friend and her new friend’s—

“So how long have you been dating?” Pam asked abruptly as Arthur was tearing off a bite from his eleventh fucking slice of pizza.

“Oh… uh…”

Harley turned red and Arthur began chewing feverishly.

“Well, we aren’t really into labels,” Harley admitted. “I mean, uh, we like spending time with each other, don’t we puddin’?”

Oh Jesus.

Arthur smiled and patted Harley firmly on the ass, which was accessible to him because she was basically hanging off of his lap at this point.

“Sure do, darlin’.”

Right. Well, Pamela had had quite enough.

“Listen, it’s getting late-” Pam began, standing up, but Harley leaped to her feet before Pam had even stepped out of the booth.

“Wait, you can’t go yet!” the blonde pouted. “It’s Friday night, barely even eleven yet. Besides, how ya gonna get home without me? I’m your ride, Red, ‘member?”

“I’ll call an Uber,” Pam mumbled, pushing past a disappointed Harley and stepping out the door into the chilly evening.

She pulled her phone out and opened the Uber app when she heard the door behind her ease open gently and footsteps behind her. She didn’t turn around, but felt Harley pull up to her side.

“I told Arthur I’d meet him late,” Harley said softly, softer than Pam had ever heard her. “I’m not going to let you ride home in a stranger’s car.”

Pam looked up, trying not to look too pathetic.

“You don’t have to do that, Harley.”

“I know.” The blonde smiled softly, mimicking the words Pam had said earlier in the locker room. “I want to.”

Pam relented, watching Harley climb onto her bike and ease it off the kickstand, then gesturing for Pam to hop on the back. The latter did so, swinging her leg over the side and wrapping her arms around Harley from behind, squeezing a little tighter than she had before. Her chest ached and she wished she didn’t feel like such a little fucking kid about this whole endeavor.

Pam was surprised when Harley pulled up to her family’s house, realizing she hadn’t given her an address. As the bike rumbled to halt and Harley cut the engine, she turned to Pam and recognized the question in her eyes.

“Um… the girls and I may have… teepeed your house the night we met. When you struck me out,” Harley admitted bashfully. Pam’s eyes narrowed.

“That was you?”

“Sorry?” Harley tried.

Pam shook her head, squeezing Harley’s hips once firmly before dismounting the bike and unstrapping her bag from the back. She didn’t notice the fierce blush creeping up Harley’s neck and face or the way the girl shuddered against her motorcycle.

“Listen, thanks for the ride,” Pam sighed once she had everything. “I’m sorry I had to interrupt your night.”

“Don’t even worry about that, Red, I love ridin’ with ya.”

Pam offered a small smile at that, then turned towards her house.

“See you on Monday, Harley.”

She was halfway up her driveway when Harley called out after her.

“Red, wait!”

She turned to see Harley running up the drive after her, pulling a slip of paper from her pocket.

“I realized you didn’t have my number and I figuredja prolly should. In case, y’know, you need a ride or something, alright?”

Harley offered the paper, and Pam took it. She immediately noticed the way Harley put dashes through her zeros — she’d always liked that.

“Um, thanks,” Pam said with an obligatory smile. “But I don’t think I’m going to call you just because I need a ride.”

Harley rolled her eyes.

“Y’know, Pam, you’re my friend, too,” she said with a smile. “An' I mean, Arthur’s great ’n all, but us girls gotta stick together.”

“Friends,” Pam repeated. “Our teams probably wouldn’t like to hear you say that.”

Harley leaned in, close enough that Pam could smell the peach body spray she doused herself in after every practice. Her heart thumped.

“Fuck ‘em,” Harley whispered with a wink. She turned on her heel back towards her bike and threw over her shoulder, “and anyway, I’m still gonna beat your ass next time we play!”

Pam watched her mount her bike, shoot a kiss across the driveway, and start down the street. She watched until Harley was out of sight, and turned back towards her house to unlock her front door.

Her mother was waiting on the couch for her.

“Pamela,” Grace Isley hummed, leaning back on the couch. “You’re 47 minutes late.”

Pam looked at the clock, seeing it was almost midnight. Cringing, she looked up at her mother.

“Sorry, mom. It won’t happen again.”

“It will not happen again,” Grace stated, and Pam wasn’t just if her mother was correcting the contraction or agreeing with the sentiment. “You have to be up at 7 for conditioning. You need your rest.”

Pam nodded, turning towards the stairs when her mother spoke once more.

“Who’s the girl, Pamela?”

Pam bit down on her lip, placing both feet back on the landing.

“Just some girl I play softball with, mom,” she assured. “No one.”

“She’s on the Ivies, then? I haven’t seen her at your parties.”

“Well, not exactly. She plays for Arkham.”

Grace Isley wasn’t one for looks of surprise, but this was a close one. She quirked one brow.

“I don’t like that she knows our address, Pamela. I’d like you not to give that out so freely.”

Pam nodded, not daring to tell her mother how Harley had actually come across their place of residence.

“Okay, mom, I’ll be careful. Can I go to bed now?”

Grace considered the request for a moment before nodding and gently jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. Pam sighed and rushed up them as quickly as she could, running into her room and collapsing against the door once it was shut.

Sucking in a deep breath, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the little strip of paper that boasted Harley’s phone number in surprisingly neat handwriting. She read through each red number individually, worrying the corner of the paper between her thumb and index finger and wishing she hadn’t come to the realization she had that night.

She hated crushes.

And what was worse, Harley was spoken for! Well, sort of. She wasn’t exactly available. Selina certainly hadn’t mentioned—

Selina.

Pulling her phone out and setting Harley’s number on her desk, Pam flopped onto her bed and dialed, waiting four full rings before the other line picked up.

“What’s shakin’, bacon?” came Selina playfully apathetic voice.

“So who the fuck is Arthur?”

“Ahhh.” Pam could hear Selina smiling through the phone. “You met the boy, then.”

“Yeah, I met him. You couldn’t tell me about this little hiccup?”

“Hiccup? Oh, baby, you’ve got a serious crush on this girl!”

“I do not,” Pam growled. “That’s not the point. You knew about him and you didn’t tell me.”

“Listen, muffin, Arthur and Harley aren’t official,” Selina explained indifferently. “She’d probably like them to be, but that’s just because she’s dependent and lonely and he gives good head.”

“Selina!”

“What! Harley tells me shit! But between you and me, I don’t think he’s good for her. Sweet kid and all, but he’s got this lazy Sunday softness about him that rubs off on her and gets in the way of her motivation. Harls is a really hard worker, you know.”

Pam found herself smiling. She knew.

“Anyway, I’m not too keen on you sweeping in on her, either, Isley,” Selina continued. “So I’d appreciate it if you struck me from your middle man list on matters like these.”

“Who else can I talk to about it?” Pam asked. “I don’t really have any friends, my parents are assholes, and Harley…”

God, she wanted to talk to Harley.

“I love you, ya little shit,” Selina sighed. “But I need to go. You caught me at a sorta bad time.”

At that moment, Pam could just barely make out a man’s voice calling from another room through the phone.

“Selina, are you taking a call from me while having sex?”

“Technically the sex part hasn’t started yet,” Selina snapped. “Don’t be gross, I’m not a perv. Look, I’ll talk to you later kid, okay? Don’t worry about Arthur. And don’t worry about Harley! Just do your job and play softball for me, okay? Colleges can drop you over a bad season. Talk Monday.”

And with that, Selina hung up, leaving Pam alone in her bed and staring blankly at her ceiling. She glanced over at the paper sitting on her desk, wondering if she should text.

Harley had said ‘if she ever needed a ride.’

Harley had also already had the number prepared in her pocket, which lead Pam to wonder how long she’d been carrying it around and waiting to give it to her.

God, Pamela Isley really fucking hated crushes.

Chapter Text

Harley woke up Monday morning and rolled over onto her stomach, wrestling her phone off her nightstand and checking it just like she had the previous morning and the morning before that.

No messages from any new numbers.

She sighed. Maybe Pam hadn’t understood the concept of someone giving their phone number? Or maybe she’d hurt her feelings by inviting Arthur to come to dinner with them…

The sudden sound of fists banging against the door tore her from her thoughts and kicked her adrenals into gear as she shot up, heart pounding. She heard laughter streaking down the hallway.

“Goddammit, Barry!” Harley growled, leaping out of bed and rushing to her door. She flung it open to watch her brother sprinting for the kitchen. She launched herself at him and grabbed him around the waist, throwing him to the ground and straddling him.

“You little shit!” she shouted, pushing her knees into his thighs and pinning his wrists down with her hands.

Writhing about, Barry screamed as she began hocking the biggest loogie she could muster, letting the spit slowly inch its way down from her mouth and dangle over his face.

“Uncle!” he pleaded, thrashing about wildly to avoid the snot glob. “Harley, uncle, uncle, you win!”

“Harleen,” came a patient voice from the kitchen counter. “No spitting on your brother before practice, please.”

Harley and Barry looked to their side to see Sharon Quinzel flipping pancakes. Harley relented, sucking the spit back into her mouth and swallowing before getting off her brother. He gagged.

“That’s disgusting!”

“Wouldja rather it be up your nose, ya little asshole?” Harley spat, winding up to punch him in the arm. He dodged just in time.

“Jesus, you call me a heathen.”

“Harley, Barry, language,” Sharon corrected, placing two pancakes on three individual plates and carrying them over to the table. The bacon, eggs, and peppers were already waiting.

“Why the fancy breakfast, ma?” Harley asked, situating at her spot at the head of the table (which she’d sat in since her father had christened her “the man of the household” before he’d been taken away to jail when she was three).

“Barry starts conditioning today,” Sharon reminded proudly. “His last year of middle school wrestling!”

“All I got on my first day of softball was a sticky note on the door sayin’ ‘good luck,’” Harley grumbled, but she looked up at her mom’s glare and sat up a little straighter.

“Food’s great, ma.”

Sharon smiled and leaned back in her chair as Barry wolfed down his bodyweight in bacon.

“Harley, you were out pretty late on Friday. Anything I should be worried about?”

“Huh? Oh, no. It was after the game so I was hangin’ out with Arthur, and then I had to give someone a ride home-“

“Oooohh, Arthur!” Barry mocked in a high-pitched voice, but Sharon spoke over his taunting kissy-noises.

“Someone?”

She quirked her brow, and Harley wished she’d been a little shorter in her explanation.

“Um, yeah, one of the girls from Gotham Prep, I told you how they’re using our field? Yeah, she came to watch me cheer at the game and then she needed a ride home, so I… yeah.”

Sharon smirked as she brought a mug of orange juice to her lips.

“She sat through a boring-ass lacrosse game — for a school she doesn’t even go to — just to watch you cheer?”

Harley swallowed.

“Right, well, great pancakes, ma, but I gotta scoot if I wanna make it to first period. Love ya! Good luck with conditioning, little shit!”

“Harleen! Language!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley tugged her cleats out of her duffle unceremoniously as girls began to trickle into the locker room. The Gotham Prep bus hadn’t arrived yet, so it was just the Diamonds for now, which seemed to suit everyone just fine.

Everyone besides Harley.

“Why the long face, Harls?” Zoe asked, sitting beside the catcher and unlacing her own sneakers. “Make a 97 on another quiz?”

Harley offered a sarcastic laugh at that as she helped Zoe with a knot she couldn’t quite get with her long nails.

“I gave Pam my number,” Harley mumbled as she continued to work on the knot. “Oh, don’t look at— it’s nothing like that, okay? I just figured she’d text, y’know? I thought we were, I dunno, starting to bond or whatever. Friends. I thought we were maybe becoming friends.”

“Yeah, Harl, I don’t know if friendship is on Isley’s mind,” Zoe admitted. “I could see her comin’ from all sorts of angles, no question, but that’s… honestly the least likely of them all.”

Harley was too tired to argue. She finally got the knot loose and turned back to her own clothes to undress.

“If you know you have to change shoes every practice, why do you tie the knots so goddamn tight?”

“Because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have anything else to bring to the table!” Zoe joked, toeing her shoes off and shoving Harley in the arm.

The Ivies entered at that moment, lead by Pam and Selina (as per usual). Harley wanted to see Pam, to talk to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look into the older girl’s eyes, instead continuing to work on her jeans.

“Hey, Diamonds!” Selina called into the space. “I already told the Ivies this on our way over, but Coach Wayne and Coach Lawton wanted me to let you know that this week they’ll be picking captains for their teams. So here’s your friendly reminder! Show up, put in the work, and don’t be an asshole, and you just might make the cut. Diamonds, Lawton’s gonna be picking two captains. Ivies, you aren’t so fortunate. But Wayne did say I get to help him decide, and I’m not against bribery. I’ll be taking bids all week. Change up!”

And with that, she left, leaving the two teams alone together for the first time since they started sharing the field a week ago. Though, to her credit, after the announcement Selina had made it was unlikely that anyone was going to start a riot now.

“Harls,” Pam greeted, joining her at their locker. “Hey, you uh… how was your weekend?”

“Hm?” Harley hummed, a lame attempt at nonchalance. “Oh, s’fine, thanks. You?”

Pam nodded stiffly, awkwardly. Zoe glanced between the two with a slack jaw.

“Yeah, right, I’ma leave y’all to figure this shit out on your own,” the pitcher laughed, walking away to change elsewhere.

“Did I do something wrong?” Harley asked abruptly, and Pam’s brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I mean, did I hurt your feelings by inviting Arthur or something? I didn’t mean to, it’s just, he doesn’t usually wanna go out with me, and he never comes to games, he says that’s stuff couples do, and I know we’re not a couple but we could be-”

Pam couldn’t think of a worse possible way for this conversation to be headed.

“-and I just wanted to spend time with him and you at the same time. Are you mad?”

“Harley, no, of course I’m not mad,” Pam placated, taking the shorter’s girl by the shoulder. “Why would you think I was— is this because I didn’t text?”

Harley shrugged.

“I mean, I wasn’t expectin' you to or nothin’, but I guess I was hopin' you would. I sorta had an idea for us to hang out on Saturday.”

Pam stared at Harley, blinking for a second, and then laughed. The blonde failed to find the humor.

“Harls, if you want to spend time with someone, you tell them. You don’t have to go through this roundabout system where you give them you written-out phone number and tell them to call you if they need a ride. And look-”

Pam pulled her phone out and opened her contacts, showing the screen to Harley.

“-I already put your number in. It just didn’t sound like you wanted me to text you all that much, so I didn’t.”

“I did! I do! I… do,” Harley stammered. “If you do?”

Pam laughed again, happy they were back on the same page at last, and typed something quickly on her phone. Harley felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, and when she opened it, she saw a message from a new number.

It’s Red ❤️

Harley smiled, slipping the phone in her duffle.

“So, I’ll text you later?”

Pam nodded.

“Two hours. Then after practice, we can be friends again.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Come on, Zoe, watch that rise ball!” Lawton yelled from behind the batter’s cage. “You got this, baby, I know you can do it.”

Harley laughed from her spot in centerfield, knocking her hand into her mitt to limber it up and smacking on her gum. Pam’s team was at bat for this inning, and the redhead herself been called up to bat earlier. Harley was pleasantly surprised to find that the pitcher happened to make a pretty fine hitter. She wasn’t quite at Harley’s level, but she was alright. You know, for a pitcher.

Zoe stood on the pitcher’s mound, cursing under her breath for allowing the Ivies two hits in a row. Pam stood on second base, which meant she was as close to Harley as she was going to get this game, and that’s when the blonde had a pretty fine idea.

They were waiting around, as softball games usually go. Things were slow, the teams were tired. Zoe was pitching poorly and the Ivies’ hitters were swinging at fouls and completely missing perfect strike zones. So Harley figured she could slip in a little conversation.

“Heya, Pam,” the catcher called from her position. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Wh- Harl, we’re in the middle of a game!” Pam called over her shoulder. She wasn’t used to Harley being friendly during practice — in fact, this was brand-new. “I need to focus. And so do you!”

Harley waved her hand in dismissal. “C’mon, party pooper, it’s a fake game. Practice is almost over anyway.”

The blonde’s mouth went a little dry for a second as Pam squat down into a ready stance and she got a look at the redhead’s ass in perfect position.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

“Hey, I gotta question,” Harley barreled on as Zoe pitched a perfect curveball and earned the player at bat her first strike. “Didja like watchin’ me cheer on Friday?”

Pam felt a warmth rush to her ears and she hoped her hat was covering them enough to hide the evidence. Swallowing, she refused to turn back and indulge Harley.

“Yeah, Harley, I told you you were great.”

Harley nodded.

“Yeah, you did, but what’dja think of my uniform?”

And lo, her strength was tested. Pam felt a warmth pooling at the pit of her stomach and closed her eyes for just a moment, pinching them shut as tightly as she could manage and counting down from ten.

“You looked great, Harls,” she choked under her breath, almost covering up the tiny crack that slipped out in her voice. Distantly, the batter earned a second strike.

“If you were a boy or somethin’, do you think you woulda wanted to take my uniform offa me?”

“Harley-!”

The tell-tale crack of the ball hitting a bat pierced through the air and Pamela’s brain was a pile of mush. The player on first was already making a run for where Pam stood, and from the looks of it, if Pam sprinted she could make it to home before anyone tagged her out. So she dug her heel into the ground, pushed off of the balls of her feet, jogged a few steps, and face planted right into the dirt.

“Pamela!” Coach Wayne called out. “What in God’s name-”

“Stand up, Isley, keep going!” Selina hollered, but it was too late. By the time Pam had stood and bolted for the shortstop, she’d been tagged. Groaning, she threw her head back.

“Why don’t we call it?” Lawton asked, watching his daughter stretch her shoulder painfully on the pitcher’s mound and the rest of his team drag their feet back to their stations. “It’s almost 6 anyway, and these kids are spent.”

Wayne nodded in consensus, shooting a worried look Pam’s way, whose face was nearly the color of her hair as she dusted the dirt from her thighs.

“Okay. Assistant Coach Kyle?”

Selina rolled her eyes.

“Alright girls, that’s game! Hit the showers!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley had barely made it into the locker room when Pam pounced on her, literally and figuratively. Taking her by the shoulder and pushing her into the lockers, her teeth bared, Pam almost looked like the hyenas Harley liked to watch on the nature channel.

“Woah, Pammy, what-”

“What the hell was that about?” Pam hissed. “You can’t fuck around like that when we’re in practice. They’re picking captains this week. I have colleges that might pull scholarships if I fuck up. I-”

“Jesus, Pam, relax, I’m sorry!” Harley interrupted. “Look, I was just messin’ around, I was bored. I didn’t know you were gonna get so worked up over a little joke.”

Pam sighed, taking a few steps back and trying to ignore the handful of girls that had stopped to watch the interaction. Her eyes flicked back up to meet Harley’s concerned gaze.

“Sorry,” the redhead finally relented. “I guess I’m not used to having a friend on the field.”

Zoe snorted from nearby, obviously tuning into their conversation, but she was ignored.

“I’m sorry,” Harley repeated. “Look, I’ll make it up to ya. How about-”

“Pizza?” Pam guessed. Harley gave her best we-are-not-amused look.

“I was gonna say a homework date at my place,” Harley repeated. “Since I know how much you love staying on top of deadlines. But if you’d rather pizza-”

“Homework is great!” Pam interjected. “It’s a date.”

Harley’s eyes glinted, and Pam worried for a moment that she’d pushed her luck, but in an instant the blonde across from her was grinning her trademark grin once more and pulling her jersey over her head.

“Cool! Get dressed and we’ll head out.”

Pam swallowed, looking up at Zoe, who was shaking her head and unsuccessfully fighting back a knowing smirk.

Chapter Text

Harley realized as they made the turn into her neighborhood that Pam had probably never seen such small houses before, having grown up on the upper east side of Gotham and attending a private school. She knew how much money Pam’s family had — not an exact amount, but she was pretty sure it was past 7 figures. She gripped the handlebars tighter, preparing for the embarrassment to come.

As she pulled Betty into the driveway alongside her mom’s ’96 station wagon, she sucked in a breath as she looked up at her house, trying to imagine it through Pam’s eyes and finding herself incredibly disappointed.

Before swinging her leg over the side, Pam gave Harley’s hips a squeeze much like she had the last time she’d ridden on the back of the bike. Harley felt a jolt of electricity run up her spine as the weight shifted and Pam clambered off and decided to investigate the sensation further when she had time to herself.

“Well, this is me,” the blonde said unenthusiastically as she dismounted the bike. “It’ ain’t much, I know.”

“Harley, you sound like you’ve already lost,” Pam chuckled with an encouraging smile. “Take me inside.”

Harley could do that.

“Hey ma!” she yelled once she’d wrestled open her meticulous front door. The smell of something delicious cooking hit her nose and she paused a moment to inhale deeply. “I brought a friend over to do homework, we’re gonna go upstairs, okay?”

“Wait, wait, wait!” came Sharon’s disembodied voice as she scurried around the corner and into view. “I want to meet your— oh…”

Harley was halfway down the hall to her room, gesturing wildly for Pam to follow, but Pam, ever the charmer, figured she should stay to meet the parent and stood stubbornly by the front door. Sharon untied her apron and draped it on the hall bathroom door handle.

There were two reasons Harley wanted to get to her room as quickly as possible. One, to show Pam as little of her raggedy house as possible, and two, to avoid the embarrassment from her mother that she knew was brewing. Even though her mother had been nothing but supportive when Harley came out to her as bisexual, she almost wished she’d kept it to herself so she wouldn’t have to deal with—

“Who is this, Harley?” Sharon asked, eyes never wavering from the tall redhead.

“Uh, right. Ma, this is-”

“Pamela Isley, ma’am, nice to meet you,” Pam interrupted, approaching Sharon and extending her hand, offering a firm but gentle shake. “I attend Gotham City Preparatory School.”

“Uhuh,” Sharon nodded. “And do you, by chance, play on the softball team?”

“I do,” Pam affirmed. “I pitch.”

“Oh, my, you pitch,” Sharon repeated giddily. “Harley, is this the girl you were talking about this morning?”

Harley’s face flushed a deep crimson as Pam raised her eyebrow and smirked, and the catcher considered climbing to the top of her house and jumping off the roof.

“Yeah…” Harley offered tentatively. “She’s the one I gave a ride on Friday. Look, we got a lotta homework to do, can we-?”

“Nonsense, you guys can wait a couple minutes to get started!” Sharon insisted. “Harley, why don’t you give our guest a tour. Pamela, can I get you anything? Water? Juice?”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Quinzel, thank you,” Pam smiled.

“Oh, god, Mrs. Quinzel is my mother-in-law,” Sharon replied. “The kids’ friends just call me Sharon. Sherry, if you’d prefer.”

“Maaaaa, can we go now?” Harley whined.

“After the tour, Harleen!” Sharon insisted, retying her apron and returning to the kitchen. “Dinner’s in thirty minutes! Pam, do you like shrimp?”

“You don’t hafta stay,” Harley whispered. Then, adding a little too enthusiastically, “but if you want, I’d love you to.”

Pam smiled, winking at Harley, then calling loudly so Sharon could hear, “shrimp is great, thank you!”

Harley rolled her eyes and grabbed Pam by the hand, quickly showing her the living room, kitchen, and hall bathroom she shared with Barry. She skipped over Barry’s room — which was emitting a concerning volume of heavy metal — and the master bedroom, concluding the tour at the door of her own bedroom.

“And this is me.”

Harley tentatively opened the door of her room and allowed Pam to step in past her. The redhead, for her credit, seemed entranced by the entire environment — the boy band posters on the wall, the drawings taped up in the corners, the spaceship lamp on Harley’s desk. And of course, the softball. Trophies, old balls, team posters, middle school jerseys. It was like a time machine of Harley, from her earliest years to now. There was no theme, no unity, but it was so perfectly her. Pam found herself surprised that the space was rather tidy aside from a small pile of crumpled clothes on the floor and her closet door ajar.

“Were you getting ready for a big date?” Pam asked, eyeing the pile. Harley’s ears turned pink at that, and she giggled nervously.

“So whatcha think, Red?”

“It’s you,” Pam replied, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders and plopping on the bed. “It’s really you, Harls.”

Harley seemed satisfied at that answer, and mimicked Pam’s movements, sitting down next to her and pulling out her biochem textbook and a deck of flashcards.

“I was kinda serious about the homework load,” she admitted sheepishly, and Pam smiled.

“What, you need help with your science homework?”

Harley shrugged.

“We’re studyin’ plant synthesization.”

Pam’s eyes lit up as she hurriedly grabbed the flashcards.

“Let’s do it!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“About how many repeating units does a polymer have?”

“Between 500 aaand…”

“You got it.”

“10-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“20…”

“Uh-huh.”

“Between 500 and 20,000?” Harley asked. Pam nodded excitedly and Harley thrust her fist in the air.

“Hell yeah! On a roll baby! Another one!”

“Harls, you got them all right,” Pam laughed. “A little shakey on one or two, but you know your shit.”

“Yeah, but every time I get one right you get all excited and you get this little smile,” Harley defended. Then, realizing her slip-up, “you know, since you’re usually such a hard-ass it was a nice change of pace.”

Pam’s heart fluttered irregularly in her chest as she tried to pass the comment off. She laughed weakly and stacked the deck back in her hands, wrapping the rubber band back around it. Scooting closer to Harley, she offered it back to her.

“You did really well. Go over it again once every day until the test and you’ll crush it.”

Harley reached for the deck and her fingertips brushed against Pam’s. Rather than move her fingers, she let them rest against the redhead’s, a little bit amazed at how soft the pitcher’s skin was. Zoe’s hands never felt like that, calloused and hardened from the ball, but Pam’s…

She didn’t notice how she was leaning in, it hadn’t even registered to her. And when she did realize, and she saw Pam’s eyes slipping shut, her hand moving to grasp the blonde’s wrist, she didn’t even bother to snap out of it, because she knew she couldn't if she tried—

“Harley! Pam! Barry! Feedin’ time!” Sharon called from the kitchen. Harley jumped into the air as if she’d been burned, and Pam’s hand immediately released from around the smaller girl’s wrist, finding a new home in her lap as she looked ahead and swallowed uncomfortably.

Harley cleared her throat, fixing her ponytail, and turned to Pam.

“We should, uh…”

“Yes, let’s.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“This shrimp scampi is amazing, Sharon, thank you,” Pam said politely after finishing a few bites. Barry was wolfing down his pasta and Harley was poking around her plate, the blush that started in her bedroom five minutes ago still ever-present on her cheeks.

“Thanks, Pam,” Sharon grinned. She was trying to be humble, but her chest had puffed up a little in pride. “The recipe’s from my ma. Harley, you’re hardly eating. Practice is picking up, you need the extra calories.”

And god, would Harley usually agree with her. But at that moment, she’d lost her appetite. She didn’t know how Pam could do it — compliment her mom and eat her dinner and act as if nothing had happened. Unless it hadn’t meant anything to Pam? As that question surfaced, Harley had to wonder: had it meant anything to her?

“Harley?”

The poor girl looked up to three sets of eyes staring at her. Swirling the pasta around on her fork, she took a bite and spoke with her mouth full.

“It’s great, ma.”

Sharon didn’t look satisfied, but she’d get her answers later.

After dinner, Harley had thought they would continue their study session, but when they were back in her room and Pam pulled her phone out to type a message and began to pack up her backpack, Harley knew they weren’t on the same page.

“You aren’t leaving, are you?” the blonde asked, fighting the urge to reach out and take her arm.

“I texted my driver,” Pam replied.

“I thought you didn’t-“

“He's off on Fridays,” Pam explained. “That’s why I needed a ride last time. Don’t worry, he’s been working for my family for years. He’ll be here in five.”

“Pam, maybe we should talk about-”

“It’s cool, Harley, we really don’t need to. I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I-”

“You've got a lot going on right now, Harley,” Pam interrupted. “Colleges are starting to look at you. Grades are starting to matter. And Arthur…. You just don’t need me distracting you from what's important right now. I’ll see you at practice, okay?”

And with that, Pam slipped out of the room. Harley didn’t follow her.

Chapter Text

Harley shifted uncomfortably as Arthur grunted on top of her, pressing scratchy kisses to her neck. Usually, she didn’t mind his beard, but over the last couple of days it just felt so… invasive. So did the erection pressing into her thigh between their jeans. She found herself zoning out, looking through the fogged-over window at the trees waving from the outside of the parking lot, wondering if they were shaking the car too much, and hoping Arthur didn’t start unzipping her fly.

He noticed. Pulling away slightly and looking down at her, he smiled unknowingly.

“Hey, uh, y’aright?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows. Harley tried to brush it off, cupping his face in her hands and pulling closer to him.

“Yeah, baby, ‘course. Come back, I think we still got ten minutes.”

She started pressing kisses to his lips again and lifted her hips up to meet his, rocking against him as she dragged her nails up his back. He moaned for a moment before diving back in only to pull back a few moments later.

“Harley, seriously, something’s up,” he insisted, pulling away and sitting back in his seat. “Do you not… want-“

“No!” Harley interrupted urgently. She sucked in a shaky breath and tried again. “No, I… I want…”

She didn’t know what she wanted. But she slid into his lap and reached between them, cupping him through his jeans while simultaneously grinding down. He moaned and tossed his head back.

“You’re gonna be late for your next period,” she whispered in his ear as she slipped her hand down the front of his pants. He nodded in acquiesce.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Selina burst through the doors of the locker room, looking around frantically before spotting her target. Taking in a deep breath, she reined in her urgency and stepped towards Harley, looking pitiful on the bench in front of her locker.

“I hurried over as soon as I got your message,” she said softly. “What’s going on, Harls? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“It’s just last period, and I have a release,” Harley mumbled, looking down at the linoleum tiles as Selina approached and sat next to her. “I usually just come down here and run a few laps or scrub my cleats before practice.”

“So, what’s wrong?” Selina asked. “You sounded really upset in your text.”

“I just need to, um, talk this out with someone, I think?” Harley sighed. “I can’t talk to Barry or mom because that would be so fucking embarassing, and… um…”

“This wouldn't be about a certain arrogant redhead I know, would it?”

Harley nodded, tapping her left toe on the floor. Selina sighed and leaned back on her palms, tilting her head up to the ceiling and closing her eyes.

“I knew this was gonna happen, I fucking said it then and I was right, as per usual.”

Harley was already starting to regret bringing it up, so she smacked Selina playfully on the arm.

“Kitty, c’mon, I came to you 'cause I thought you’d be the most understanding!”

“Oh, I understand alright,” Selina nodded. “Pammy’s a hot piece of ass. You’re sixteen years old-”

“Almost seventeen!”

“-and your hormones are off the fuckin’ charts. Listen, honey, I understand completely. But I also understand that you wear your heart on your sleeve and you fall in love every month with someone new. I understand that Pam is on a rival team and could be toying with you to find your Achilles heel. I understand you’re stressed about captains being picked this week and the season starting and maintaining grades and SAT prep. You’re going through so much right now, Harls, and this infatuation you feel could be the result of any number of things. And look, what about the thing you’ve got going with Arthur, huh?”

“Why do people keep- Selina, look, I’m not sayin' I wanna date Pamela, just-”

“Well, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Don’t you wanna date Pam?”

“Wh- I- No!” Harley stuttered, blinking rapidly. “Kitty, that isn’t- Jesus Christ. Selina, look, Pam and I almost kissed last night.”

Selina’s smile dissipated.

“And?”

“And, I kinda wish we did?” Harley half asked. “Which scares me. She’s on the rival team. We’re friends. We’re starting to be friends? And things would be so weird if we had. And I do have Arthur. We aren’t together together, but we’re… today during lunch we were in his car and usually it’s great and I can’t get him outta his pants quick enough, but today I just… I couldn’t…”

Selina felt her stomach flip thinking about Harley’s sex life. Little Harley, who she used to babysit. Still, she nodded understandingly.

“I don’t think this is a small thing, Harls.”

Harley shook her head.

“And I think you should probably talk to Pam about it.”

“Are you crazy?” Harley laughed bitterly. “She hates me.”

Selina sniggered at that, remembering when she’d sat with the redhead in question during the lacrosse game last Friday. Rolling her eyes, she squeezed Harley’s knee.

“Oh baby, she does not hate you.”

“She does!” Harley defended. “After we… um… didn’t kiss, she couldn’t get outta the house fast enough. And she wouldn’t let me talk to her, I wanted to explain. I don’t even know what I woulda said, but I just wanted her to stay.”

Selina nodded.

“So, I don’t know if you realize this, baby girl, but you like Pam. You really like her, kiddo, do you know that?”

Harley sighed and nodded. Selina smiled and patted the girl's thigh one last time before standing up.

“Well, kid, I can’t do anything else for you. You’re gonna have to figure the rest out on your own.”

As she was starting to walk to the locker room door, Harley stopped her.

“Kitty, does she… like me too?”

Selina glanced back for just a moment and smiled before tugging on the door handle and stepping out.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley was dressed and on the field when the Gotham Prep bus arrived so that she wouldn’t have to interact with the redhead in question. She knew avoiding Pam wasn’t the best course of action, but she couldn’t imagine facing rejection. Pam had hurried out of the house so quickly, and Harley couldn’t handle any pity or condescension from her.

She was already running suicides when the other players started trickling on the field, Zoe shooting her a worrisome look.

“You okay?” She asked softly. Harley shrugged. She spotted Pam eyeing her as she was twisting her upper body and looked away before she could interpret the message behind those piercing green eyes.

“Okay, girls!” Selina shouted, jogging onto the field after talking with Lawton and Wayne. “Ivies are at-bat, Zoe, you pitch.”

“I pitched the last inning yesterday,” Zoe said skeptically. Selina raised her eyebrow.

“And you’ll pitch again, Lawton, and again and again if I say so. I am your sun.”

Zoe recognized the inside jest in her ex-assistant coach’s dry comment and smiled, shaking her head and jogging to the mound.

“Okay, Harley, I want you catching for this inning, ace?”

“Ace,” Harley repeated, trotting off to find home base as she adjusted her hand in her mitt. Selina nodded, pretending to look out across the team. Eyes falling on their target, she jerked her head.

“Isley. You’re at-bat.”

Pam’s jaw dropped, and Harley’s eyes narrowed. Pam wasn’t a hitter. When the other team was pitching, she played outfield. She thought yesterday was an outlier, not the start of a pattern. But, ever the soldier, Pam clamped her jaw shut and approached Selina, extending her arm for the bat. Selina let the shorter woman take it in her hand before tugging it into her body, pulling Pam close so she could whisper in her ear.

“You fucked up, Isley,” she hissed. “I told you to be careful. You fix this or I’ll wreck your ass, got it?”

Pam swallowed, nodding, and Selina let go of the bat, walking towards the rest of the girls.

“Okay, ladies, listen for your position as I call your name…”

Pam trotted over to the home plate, tuning out Selina and zoning in on Harley, who was-

Ignoring her? Blatantly?

“Hey, Harls,” Pam tried tentatively as she reached the home plate while Harley strapped her kneepads on. The blonde didn’t even look up, just laced the velcro and adjusted and readjusted. Pam cleared her throat and tried again.

“Hey, how was your day?”

Harley situated the catcher helmet atop her head, wrestling it around a little to check its sturdiness, and knocked the cage down over her face, sniffing and eyeing Zoe from across the field. Zoe raised a brow and Harley looked out past her at the outfield.

“Are you seriously ignoring me right now?”

Selina was trotting off the field, and other players were taking their places. As the last player made her place in right field, Pam turned one last time to look at Harley as the blonde sunk down into a squat behind the home plate.

“This is ridiculous, Harleen. You’re being immature.”

“Oh, I’m being immature?” Harley finally spoke, and Pam was so excited she almost glossed over the bitterness and resentment laced in the catcher’s words. Almost. “I’m being immature? That is so fucking rich comin' from you, Pamela.”

Zoe pitched a slider, and Pam took it, but it was a ball anyway because Pam hadn’t made eye contact. Wriggling her hips, she finally gave up on looking at Harley as she eyed Zoe from across the field. The other pitcher almost looked sorry for the redhead, knowing a little something of what it was like to be on the wrong side of Harley’s wrath.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Pam bit over her shoulder. Zoe wound up a pitch and released, the ball heading for the outside of the strike zone. Pam recognized it in time and refrained from swinging.

“Ball!” Selina shouted. Zoe grumbled something under her breath.

“Just focus on the fuckin' game, that’s what you told me to do last night,” Harley snapped from behind her. Pam chuckled sarcastically, leveling up the bat. Zoe pitched again, a damn good ball, but Pam’s frustration was boiling inside her and she hit a foul.

“Strike one!” Selina shouted, and shot Pam a pointed look. Pam knew what she was saying.

Strike out.

Pam grumbled, shifting her weight back and forth between two feet.

“Harley, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened,” she grumbled. As Zoe pitched again, she intentionally botched her swing, partially so she could keep talking to Harley and partially because Selina was looking at her like she’d claw her eyes out if she didn’t strike out for Harley. The blonde caught Pam’s strike and pitched it back to Zoe.

“Strike two!”

“I just don’t want to confuse you. And I want you to focus on what’s important.”

“I’m not a fucking child, Pamela,” Harley spat with an incredible diction that Pam hadn’t heard through her thick Brooklyn accent before. “You aren’t my fucking mother, okay?”

“What do you want me to say?” Pam asked, resisting the urge to turn around and glare at Harley. “Do you want me to say sorry I didn’t stick around for you to tell me you’re really sorry but Arthur is this close to asking you to 'go steady'?”

Zoe began to roll her shoulder, a tell-tale sign that she was about to wind up her pitch. Pam already knew she was going to fuck it up and take the out, but she pretended to settle into the bat anyway.

“I wanna know why you left!” Harley pressed. “You wouldn’t even let me talk, you just thought you knew better than me because you have this fuckin' superiority complex. You know what, I’d say you’re tryn'a butter me up so you can throw me off my game, and you got cold feet when you realized you’d gone too far.”

Are you fucking kidding me? You know what, fuck it.

Zoe pitched and Pam hit a perfect ball into left field, ignoring Selina’s glare as she trotted to first base and took her place as the Diamonds failed to tag her out and the ball made its way back to Zoe. From the catcher’s position, Pam could see Harley glaring at her through her helmet cage, and she could feel Selina burning holes into the back of her head.

Who gave a fuck, anyway.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Unfortunately for Harley, she couldn’t change before everyone else when practice ended like she had before practice began. She would have to interact with the redhead, especially considering their shared locker. After two mock games and drills with a bodyweight conditioning tacked on at the end, the players made their way to the lockers. Harley power walked, almost at a run, and Pam, to her credit, stayed behind and walked as slowly as she could.

By the time Pam made it to the locker room to change, Harley was already in her street clothes, backpack slung over her shoulder, adjusting her ponytail. Pam swallowed, taking a step towards the younger girl, who simply pushed past her, and left the locker room. Pam groaned in frustration, looking around and locking eyes with Zoe.

“What do I do?” she asked with a shrug. Zoe gave her her best ‘are-you-fucking-kidding-me’ look.

“Go after her, dumbass.”

So she did. Pam pushed the door open, finding Harley walking along the side of the exterior brick wall towards the parking lot, and began to press on after her.

“Harley!”

Harley didn’t turn at first, fists clenched, but Pam called her again.

“Hey! Harley!”

Harley finally turned, allowing Pam to catch up with her, fire blazing in her eyes. The redhead stalked up to her shorter counterpart until they were chest-to-chest.

“Look, there’s something you need to fucking understand about me, okay? First of all, I-”

Harley shoved Pam into the brick wall and kissed her.

Chapter Text

Pam could think of nothing but how warm Harley’s mouth was. She tasted like cherry chapstick and the watermelon bubble gum she chewed every practice, softening the kiss in such a maddening way. For Pam, it was a stark contrast to the harsh grind of her back against the rough brick wall she was being pushed into.

Pam finally remembered how to move and reached her hands up to cup Harley’s jaw with one hand and the back of her neck with the other. She tangled her fingers in the damp curls at the nape of Harley’s neck and felt the shorter girl whimper into her mouth, pushing closer until their bodies were flush.

It was not a gentle kiss. This was a kiss of pent-up frustration, of want, and of hurt. Harley wasted no time in slipping her tongue into Pam’s mouth, knocking a bit of sense into the taller girl as a pang of pleasure jolted between her legs. She gently pushed at Harley’s shoulders and pulled away.

“H- Harley, we should-”

She stopped herself. She didn’t know what kind of expression she was expecting to see on Harley’s face, but tears welling in the girl’s eyes was absolutely not it.

“Oh, Harley…”

Other girls were starting to trickle out and luckily hadn’t noticed the pair standing in the shadows just yet. They would have to get to their cars eventually, though, Pam knew that, so she released her hands from Harley’s shoulders and the shorter girl stepped away.

“Wait just a second,” Pam mumbled, pulling her phone out and going through her contacts. She raised the phone to her ear and waited for the other line to pick up.

“Hey, Frank,” she said into the phone when she was greeted on the first ring. “Can you come pick me up from Arkham High?” A pause. “Alright, thank you, Frank. See you in five.”

Pam hung up and reached out to tuck a strand of Harley’s hair behind her ear, searched the cool blue eyes before her.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” she asked in such a soft voice that Harley almost did. But instead, she shook her head gently and swallowed. Pam sighed and nodded, pulling away.

“I figured. Let me grab my shit.”

“I’ll just-” Harley began to walk towards the parking lot, but Pam reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“No, Harley, I’m taking you home.”

“No, I’m okay to ride-”

“Harley.” Pam’s face was stern. “I’m taking you home.”

Harley nodded.

Pam hurried back into the locker room to grab her things, then checked on Harley and made sure she had everything and was warm enough in her small jacket. Deciding she was not, the redhead pulled her Gotham Prep sweatshirt over Harley’s head. The lingering Diamonds and Ivies alike noticed and shot some questioning glances, but Pam ignored them as she toted Harley outside.

Frank was waiting for them in the parking lot, not far from Betty. He was a burly man with immaculately groomed facial hair and humorously tiny glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. But Harley’s focus was on her bike. Pam noticed.

“Frank will give you a ride to school tomorrow,” Pam insisted, and Harley nodded as the two girls clambered into the backseat of the car.

“Where to, Miss Isley?” Frank asked form the front.

“Home, Frank,” Pam replied, then caught the question in Harley’s eyes.

“You can say no, but I’d like you to spend the night with me tonight.”

Harley, despite herself, felt her breath catch in her throat and she couldn’t refuse. She nodded tentatively.

She was silent for the entire drive, fiddling with the string on Pam’s green sweatshirt. She tried not to become distracted by the sweet smell of honey and strawberries, or by the fact that Pam was still in her softball uniform and god if she didn’t make it work for her off-field.

Harley hadn't really paid much attention to the neighborhood when she and the girls had teepeed Pam's house weeks ago. She had been too wrapped up in the excitement of it all, too focused on staying quiet. And it had been pitch black then. But now in the setting sunlight, nothing was left to the imagination. Harley began to notice the houses outside the window as wrap-around porches for both stories became the norm. She had lived in a one-story house her whole life, and wondered if it got exhausting, trekking up and down stairs all day. Once she started seeing upwards of three sports cars in each driveway, then triple car garages, she realized just how wealthy Pam really was. She was glad for the early February sunset because the blush creeping along her skin would have been glaringly obvious without it.

The houses were pretty far spaced apart at this point, and finally Frank pulled up to a gate outside of a large estate. Harley felt her mouth drop as he keyed in the code and the gate opened to a half-mile driveway leading up to the hugest house Harley had ever clamped eyes on. Pam tried not to notice the girl’s eyes bugging out of her head as Frank pulled up to the front of her house, waiting to let the girls out before putting the car in the garage. Harley really was only just noticing how fucking fancy the place really was.

“I take it I’ll be driving you both to school tomorrow, Miss Isley?”

“Yes, thank you, Frank,” Pam nodded in affirmation as she helped Harley out while the driver grabbed the bags. She took them from him and offered a grateful smile. “Sorry for taking you off your usual schedule.”

Frank just smiled and tipped an imaginary hat, which made Pam laugh. He settled back in the car to park it and Pam took Harley’s elbow, turning them towards the house and unlocking her front door with her keys.

“My mom works at the office until seven, so if we’re quick we’ll be able to avoid her entirely. My dad works nights at his law firm. He leaves for work after dinner, usually, but he’ll be in his office right now.”

Harley nodded as Pam let them into the house and tried not to drop her jaw on the floor.

It was massive. Beyond massive. She’d never been in a house with a foyer before, but here she was, standing in one that was twice the size of her bedroom. To the left it looked like the living space, to the right a series of bedrooms and closets.

“Downstairs is the kitchen, dining room, sitting room, living room, and a few of our guest beds. The basement is our entertainment space. And upstairs is my parents and me. A couple of other beds. I’d give you the grand tour, but I don’t think that’s really the move for tonight.”

Pam had removed her jacket and hung it on a coat rack. She reached for Harley as if asking for the sweatshirt around her shoulders, but the blonde clenched her fists in the fabric of the front pocket and Pam relented. She jerked her head to the stairs.

“Just up here.”

Pam led the way, trying not to huff too hard with the weight of two backpacks and duffles weighing down her shoulders, and was relieved as the stairs ended. She continued down the hallway and turned towards her bedroom door, pushing it open and looking back at Harley.

“It’s… the size of my entire living room and kitchen combined,” Harley spoke finally, and Pam started to chuckle before realizing that was not the appropriate response.

Pam was definitely a minimalist, Harley realized. She had no clutter, and the only decorations on her wall were the kinds of things you’d find in a chic New York City hotel room. All of her furniture was metallic black, with some accents of dark stained oak in her desk and bedside table. The dresser must have been tucked away in her closet, Harley guessed. A perfectly made king-size bed took up one wall, a desk and chair found residence on another, and a large entertainment system with multiple gaming consoles caught her eye. Harley found herself surprised.

“I don’t really play anything,” Pam admitted as she tossed the bags down and observed Harley’s line of sight. “But I’ll be the first to admit that Lego Star Wars kind of goes off.”

Harley felt herself smile. She liked that one, too. For that Christmas, Sharon had gotten her and Barry one single shared gift: an Xbox One. And maybe Harley had played through the entire Lego Star Wars saga before school had even started back up.

“I like your room,” Harley mumbled at last, tentatively sitting at the edge of Pam’s bed. “Should I uh, take my shoes off, or-”

“Only if you want to,” Pam replied.

Harley did because she’d seen enough movies to know that rich people liked it when you took your shoes off in their house. Pam toed off her cleats and started to reach for the hemline of the jersey she still wore, ready to change out of her uniform, but stopped when she remembered that Harley was standing right there, blushing (pretty cutely, honestly).

“Sorry, uh, force of habit,” Pam apologized, readjusting her shirt. “Um, I just need to grab a change of clothes.”

“Pam?” Harley asked softly from the bed, eyes trained on the perfectly white carpet at her feet. Pam halted in her movement towards her closet, instead turning all of her attention to Harley. She walked towards the girl’s place on her bed and got on her knees in front of her.

“Yeah, Harls,” Pam breathed, her hand finding Harley’s knee. The blonde looked up at that, and her expression was nervous.

“I can’t tell if you’re into me or… or if you just want to get in my head so you can beat me,” Harley admitted softly.

Pam nodded in understanding.

“I get it. I worried the same about you, for a while. I guess there’s no way either of us can prove otherwise. We just have to trust each other.”

Harley nodded, her hand coming to rest on top of Pam’s.

“Why did you run yesterday?”

Pam sucked in a shaky breath, knowing this was coming. She looked at their hands, twisting hers around and entwining her fingers with Harley’s before finding the blonde’s gaze again.

“Because I really like you, Harley. And I was scared of what would happen if I found out you didn’t like me back.”

Pam finally saw Harley smile gently for the first time since their study date the night previous, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her.

“You dumbass,” Harley chuckled. “You coulda just asked.”

With that, she leaned forward, cupping Pam’s jaw, and kissed her gently. Pam sighed, relishing in the taste of Harley’s lips again. She opened her mouth a little further, deepening the kiss, and Harley accepted the change of pace happily, tugging on the taller girl’s shoulders. Pam got the idea and crawled up the bed as Harley scooted backward until blonde hair was splayed out on the grey pillows. Pam felt her heart bang in her chest as she opened her eyes tentatively and gazed at the sight of Harley lying in her bed underneath her.

She swallowed.

“Y’aright, Red?” Harley asked, fingers carding through red hair. Pam nodded dumbly, stricken mute in that moment. “We don’t have to, um, I don’t know if making out in bed is your thing-”

Pam surged forward, silencing Harley with her lips in a fast, needy lip lock that was over a little too quickly. She pulled away and nuzzled Harley’s cheek with her nose.

“Harls, making out in bed with you has been at the top of my daytime fantasy list since you almost hit me in the face with you bat at the snack shack.” Harley giggled, pulling Pam in close and attaching their lips again hungrily, nibbling Pam’s bottom lip. The redhead whimpered a little at that, and Harley felt a surge of pleasure between her legs at the sound. She bit down harder, and Pam moaned.

Oh.

Harley wasn’t sure how to ask without looking pushy. Things were moving a little fast, and there was a lot they needed to talk about. But as Pam’s knee found a new home between Harley’s thighs, she started to convince herself that the talking part could always happen later. Her hands began to tangle at the hemline of Pam’s jersey.

“Th- That’s nice,” Harley stammered, and Pam smiled in understanding, shifting her knee gently. Harley tossed her head back a little and her breath hitched, and Pam’s lips greedily captured the new exposure of skin. Harley’s fingernails dug into Pam’s lower back, her hips shifting gently from the bed. She tried to still them, a little embarrassed at her lack of control. Her hands fisted at the base of Pam’s jersey again, and Pam smirked a little.

“Something you want, Quinzel?” she asked cockily. “Use your words.”

Harley didn’t care for being told what to do. Instead, she sat up, pushing the two of them into a vertical seated position, and tugged the jersey over Pam’s head, leaving the pitcher in her sports bra and practice trousers. She’d seen this much of Pam before in the locker room, but it had never been so—

They were both surprised when Harley’s lips attached to a defined collarbone, Pam gasping and twisting her hands in Harley’s hair. With one swift motion, Harley flipped them over so that she was hovering over Pam, tangling their legs together.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Red,” Harley purred and ohhhhhh Jesus fuck that was new.

Pam had usually topped with the girls she’d been with in the past, but that was mainly because she was their experimental guinea pig, their personal lab rat as they discovered their sexuality and ultimately decided they were just really into boys. So when Harley’s voice dropped an octave and a half and she’d said that, Pam found her toes curling just a little.

Pam was also thrilled to learn Harley was a biter. Less thrilled at the realization that she was going to have to invest in some heavy-duty makeup to cover the hickey Harley was presently suckling into her neck. A soft whimper escaped Pam’s lips.

“Your skin is so soft,” Harley broke away briefly to point out. “How is it so smph-”

She interrupted herself as she dove back in, dragging her tongue up the large muscle of Pam’s neck. The redhead was beginning to wriggle beneath her, and when two strong pitcher’s hands landed on Harley’s ass she nearly stopped breathing.

Pam didn’t squeeze at first, just rested her palms there. Both girls stopped what they were doing and paused, looking at each other tentatively for a few quiet seconds. Finally, Pam offered a painfully gradual squeeze, slowly contracting her fingers, and Harley’s hips instinctively rolled with the motion, pushing into Pam’s. Both girls groaned.

“You’re an ass girl,” Pam concluded, and Harley nodded, eyes clamped shut. Pam smiled and kissed Harley's ear before squeezing again, this time rolling her own hips to meet Harley’s, head falling back as they ground into each other. Harley took a page from Pam’s book and slipped her knee between the redhead’s thighs, continuing to roll her hips, and oh…

Oh.

Oh.

Pam’s eyes shot open to discover Harley gazing at her, blue eyes almost black. The redhead swallowed, continuing to push herself into the catcher and groaning with each buck of her hips. Harley recaptured her lips and nibbled down again. Her hand traced along Pam’s neck before ghosting along the outer curve of the pitcher’s breast. Pam whimpered. Pitifully.

“H- Harley… Harley, fuck.”

Harley wanted to. She wanted to so bad. And she knew they needed to wait, to talk some things out first, but she also knew that her underwear was growing increasingly damper by the second and Pam was fucking dry humping her, could you blame the poor girl’s brain for short-circuiting for a second?

One of Harley’s hands found Pam’s breast, palming her through her sports bra, and Pam gasped.

“God, more.”

Harley reached underneath them to grasp Pam’s ass with her free hand, finding better purchase and rolling her hips in time to meet Pam’s while pinching Pam's nipple through her padded bra. Pam was whimpering and sighing and Harley really could’ve come right then, watching the girl beneath her mewling and writhing helplessly.

Harley didn’t know what would’ve happened if the sharp knock hadn’t come from the door.

Both girls stilled completely in their position.

“Pamela, are you in there?” Grace asked from behind the door. Pam heard her trying the doorknob and thanked her past self profusely for locking the door. “Why is the door locked, Pamela?”

“Uhm, force of habit!” Pam called, voice cracking just a little. “I’m sorry. Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” Grace assured. “I’d like your friend to join us for dinner. Appetizers are at eight.”

Of course. Nothing happened in the Isley household without its matriarch finding out about it.

The sound of footsteps informed Pam that her mother was leaving, and she sighed, looking up at Harley. She had to stop herself from laughing — Harley’s eyes were screwed shut, brows furrowed, and she looked as if she was concentrating incredibly hard on something. Pam had an idea of what it might’ve been.

“She’s gone,” Pam whispered at last, and Harley opened her eyes tentatively. Looking down at Pam, she blushed.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled guiltily. “I didn’t really ask what you wanted.”

“Was the thrusting not obvious?” Pam asked innocently, and Harley’s hips bucked dutifully at that. Pam laughed, sliding her hands up Harley’s arms.

“I liked all of that. All of that is okay.”

Harley bit her lip.

“And… other stuff?”

Pam thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“For the sake of healthy communication and raging, irrational hormones, we should probably wait for the other stuff until we’ve slept on it a little and definitely, definitely talked about it. But I, for one, would love to see what you taste like, Harleen Quinzel.”

Harley’s hips bucked again.

Chapter Text

Pam had eventually flipped Harley off of her, much to the smaller girls chagrin, and hurried to change out of her uniform. Stumbling out of the bathroom in high waisted jeans and a tasteful sweater that reached up to her collarbone, Harley pouted from where she sat unmoving on the bed.

“I don’ even get ta stare at your tits from across the table?” she grumbled, words muddled with lust.

“Darling, trust me — you’re going to need all the focus you can muster.”

Harley’s heart fluttered at the new pet name, choosing not to call attention to it in the hopes that Pam might use it again. Instead, she sat up on her haunches and smirked, reaching for the redhead and pulling her in. Pressing her lips hungrily against wherever they could find purchase, Harley hummed.

“C’mon, Pam, she’s just a rich mom. How bad could it be?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was bad.

Grace had dragged her husband, Dr. David Isley, down from his study and placed him at the head of the table. She sat next to him, and on the other side of herself situated her daughter. This left Harley, whom she placed at David’s other side so she could stare her down across the table.

Appetizers were a disaster. Harley didn’t even know what caviar was, and had tried slip a few eggs in her water to “save the fishies” (Pam could only assume) after she had learned where the slippery orbs originated. Salad moved a little smoother, though Harley was horrified to discover that the lemon wedges on the side of her plate were for dressing her vegetables in place of her usual copious amounts of Ranch. The entrees were fine, except when Harley was trying to cut her chicken and sent a chunk flying across the table, narrowly missing Grace Isley’s head.

And then came dessert.

Harley was relieved, confident she could handle some ice cream. So she was a little surprised, to say the least, by the gelatinous semen placed in front of her (by their fucking maid!).

Pam noticed Harley’s discomfort and cleared her throat politely.

“It’s almond tofu,” Pam muttered. “It’s from China.”

Harley picked up her fork and was mortified by how easily it slid into the… sorry, were they calling this a dessert?

“So, Miss Quinzel,” Grace prompted, clearing her throat and tapping her cloth napkin to the corners of her mouth delicately. “Pamela tells me you’re a fine catcher.”

“I’m the best catcher this side of the Pontiac,” Harley corrected proudly. Then, noticing the warning glare in Pam’s eyes, tacked on pitifully, “is what Pam says… sometimes… she told me that once.”

Grace nodded, squinting just barely as she took a sip of her wine. David shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking very much like he’d like to say something but knew better.

“Not much work, is it? Catching a ball and throwing it back.”

Harley was about to insert that that was literally all Pam did as a pitcher, but for once she considered before speaking and kept that little bit to herself.

“Well, I dunno, I’m a baseman, too,” Harley mumbled. "That's a lot of runnin’ and-”

“So what exactly is it that you would like out of a friendship with my daughter?” Grace interrupted, taking Harley completely by surprise.

“Whadya mean? Why do I need a reason to be friends with anyone?”

“You don’t, I suppose, so long as that person is of similar stock. But my daughter is the star player of your rival team, and she’s the best pitcher ‘this side of Pontiac,’ as you put it. I suppose I’m just wondering why you find it prudent to spend the night in our home when she is what’s standing between you and your precious state championship.”

Pam’s fist was clenching around her napkin, and Harley could see her knuckles turning white. The blonde wanted to speak up for herself, to explain, but even if she could find eloquent enough words, she wasn’t sure she understood it, herself.

“Just something to think about,” Grace shrugged ‘nonchalantly,’ taking another sip of wine.

“Come on, Harley, we’re going,” Pam bit out suddenly.

“Wh- um, my almond… stuff…” Harley stammered as Pam stood up and came around the back of the table to grab her. “Pam, wait, I was gonna… um, okay?”

Pam was dragging Harley by the wrist towards the foyer. Harley shot one last glance towards a bewildered David and an irate Grace.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Isley!” Then less enthusiastically, “Mrs. Isley.”

Pam grabbed her keys from the key hook and pushed the door open, barreling across the estate’s large front lawn towards a nearby building — a building Harley hadn’t seen before. As the shorter girl jogged to keep up, she turned to look at the redhead.

“Hey, Pam, where we goin’?”

Pam jerked her chin towards the building, not letting up in her pace at all, and said nothing. Harley resigned herself to curiosity until they reached the front door.

Pam unlocked it, wrestling the jiggly knob. Harley was surprised it gave her any trouble at all, surely a family as wealthy as hers could afford to fix it. Still, she succeeded in turning the handle eventually and gingerly pushed the door open, feeling for the lights before flicking them on.

Harley’s mouth fell open on its own accord as she took in the new world around her. Stepping into the garage, she felt her heart pounding at the sight of nearly a dozen collector’s cars, dating back as early as the 1920s. Neon signs buzzed on the walls, illuminating various plaques and large framed photographs, and a few of the cars had ribbons on them. Each of them was waxed, polished, and hotter than her ma’s bruschetta.

“Oh, Pam, this is…”

“It’s my dad’s car garage,” Pam said, mood already lifting. “This is the one place on the estate my mom won’t set foot in. Naturally, it’s where I go when she’s getting to be too much.”

Harley tore her gaze from one 1970 Cadillac De Ville she was eyeing and took in Pam beside her. Her brow was furrowed and her gaze unsteady.

“Pam…” Harley tried. “Does your mom know you’re a lesbian?”

Pam looked straight ahead and gingerly shook her head, the muscle in her jaw twitching. Harley nodded, understanding, and reached out to take her hand. They stood there quiet for just a moment, swallowed up the world of neon and chrome until Pam’s fingernails stopped digging into Harley’s palm and her breathing became less and less ragged. Finally, Pam swallowed.

“You wanna go for a drive?”

The blonde’s eyes bugged.

“What, in one’a these?”

Pam laughed a little, swinging her keys on her finger as she made her way towards the front of the garage. Her giggle was music to Harley's ears, especially since the blonde knew she was responsible for the sound.

“Sort of. There’s only one car in here I can take out without dad.”

As Pam’s pace slowed, Harley began to understand. At the front of the garage where Pam had come to halt was the most rusted, beat-up clunker of a truck she’d ever seen.

“What the fuck is that thing doin’ in the presence of gods, Pam?” Harley deadpanned. “I wouldn’t even drive that, and I’m poor as shit.”

“It’s my truck,” Pam said in mock offense, but there was a lighthearted jingle in her tone. “No, my dad bought this for me when I turned sixteen and said we’d fix it up together. That’s what he does in his free time, he fixes old cars and sells them for upwards of fifty percent total net profit. Of course, we never worked on it, but I think I like it better this way. When I drive her, I feel like a normal person. People don’t stare at me, you know?”

Harley could understand that.

“I don’t drive it much,” Pam continued. “Because we have Frank. But sometimes I need to get out of the house.”

Harley smiled, reaching for the door handle and popping it open.

“Well then let’s get out.”

And that was how they ended up doing doughnuts in an open field at 9 pm on a Tuesday night.

When Pam had finally slowed down and convinced Harley enough was enough, she shifted into park and kept the engine running, turning to the girl in her passenger seat.

“That was fun,” she sighed. “I don’t normally do things like that.”

“Yeah, I really hope we aren’t one someone’s private property,” Harley snickered. “You’re F-U-C-K fucked if they come out and catch your license plate.”

“My dad’ll pay them off,” Pam dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“Jesus, Pam, we get it, you have money. What’s it like to have more than you know what to do with?”

“What’s it like to have the smartest mouth in the room?”

“Well, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

Pam smiled coyly.

“I don’t know, Harls, you seemed to really enjoy my mouth earlier.”

Harley felt the tone shift along with the arrival of a throbbing between her legs, and she crossed them.

“Yeah, well, you just proved my point,” she shot back lamely, looking straight ahead in an attempt at annoyance. Pam knew better, sliding over in her seat.

The greatest thing about old cars was the lack of a center console, Pam thought, as Harley lunged towards her and slammed her mouth unceremoniously on hers. What the blonde lacked in skill and experience she made up for in enthusiasm. And it was no fault of Harley’s — how skilled can you get when you’ve only had practice on a man?

The blonde mumbled something softly and Pam pulled away, blinking profusely.

“Wh- What did you say, Harls?”

Harley liked red-faced, out-of-breath Pam.

“I said you’d better take us back your house or I’ll jump your bones right here in this truck,” Harley repeated, and Pam didn’t need telling twice.

Chapter Text

“I just don’t know why everyone thinks he’s so funny,” Zoe continued as she and Harley walked towards the cafeteria for their lunch period. “It’s not that hard to tell a joke. I can tell a joke. Anyone can tell a joke. C’mon, Harley, knock knock.”

Harley didn’t answer, she was staring at the text Arthur had just sent her.

U coming out?

Harley swallowed. She’d forgotten all about Arthur the night before. There wasn’t any room for him in her brain with Pam clouding her thoughts with her soft skin and strawberry scented shampoo. But now he was glaringly obvious, and a problem that needed fixing.

???

🍆💦

“Harls? Hello?”

Harley sighed, looking up at Zoe.

“I think I need to break things off with Arthur.”

Zoe looked confused for just a second, and then immediately was dragging Harley by the backpack strap into the nearest ladies' bathroom, throwing her unceremoniously through the door.

“You fucked her.”

“What?!” Harley’s eyes bulged. “Zoe, who are you-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Harley, spare me. The tall drink of water! The long, cool woman in a black dress! The fucking redhead that you can’t stop making cow eyes at! You fucked the rival pitcher!”

“Zoe, keep your voice down!” Harley yelped, though she wasn’t sure who she was worried about hearing since the bathrooms as deserted. “No, I didn’t… we didn’t… we kept our clothes on.”

Oh, fuck, she hadn’t meant to—

“OH MY GOD SO YOU WERE TOGETHER!” Zoe affirmed. “I was only, like, kind of sure about it, but you totally just confirmed everything! Oh my god, how is she? Is she super kinky? No offense, she looks kinda kinky.”

“Why would I find that offen-”

“Oh my god, she totally tops, doesn’t she?” Zoe barreled on. “I’ll bet she does. She’s an alpha for sure.”

“Hey!” Harley yelped. “I will have you know that I am a top-heavy switch, thank you very much.”

“Aha! Power bottom, then.”

“This is inappropriate,” Harley grumbled. “I don’t have to be having this conversation with you.”

“No, you don’t,” Zoe nodded. “You could just walk out the door. But we’ve been in here for a full minute and yet you still haven’t made a move to leave. Which means you like talking about your sexy times with her, you naughty girl!”

“Please don’t say naughty in the same sentence you’re describing me in.”

“Shit, Harls, what are you gonna do about Arthur?”

Harley groaned in frustration at that.

“That’s what I was trying to figure out before you interrupted me!”

Zoe shrugged, going for the door handle to leave.

“Tell him you’re sick today.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxX

Harley pumped her heel rapidly, glaring at the clock on the wall, willing the little red hand to hurry the fuck up. This was her last class of the day before her final period release, and she was ready to run a few laps.

She hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything that day. All she could think about was Pam, and Pam’s truck, and Pam’s house, and Pam’s lips, and Pam’s tongue, and everything Pam had done and said to wind Harley up so fucking tight that she—

God, she was ready to run a few laps.

The bell rang and Harley was racing down the hall to the gym, dodging teachers yelling at her to slow down and students walking too slowly (seriously, there should be fast and slow lanes in high school hallways). She trotted down the Southside staircase, flinging the door open and running across the schoolyard towards the track and lockers adjacent. She was already tugging her t-shirt off as she ran into the locker room and pulled on the questionable workout clothes stashed away in her locker. As she was tying her tennis shoes and bursting through the door, she felt her quads tense — a reminder of the night before.

Oh Jesus, the night before.

Harley pushed off of her toes and started her jog along the track lining the Arkham High football field, trying to ignore the gentle tremors of soreness pulsing in her biceps as she pumped them back and forth, tense from when she’d held herself over Pam for hours after they’d returned home from their late-night drive. Her triceps were still wobbly from when she’d hoisted Pam into the air as the taller girl wrapped her legs around Harley’s waist and licked along the edge of Harley’s jaw.

Like Pam had suggested, they hadn’t taken it any further than heavy petting, but it was enough to drive Harley insane with need and anticipation. Because she knew herself, and she was starting to get to know Pam, and she had a pretty good idea of where things were headed.

“Number 7!” shouted a voice from the bleachers as Harley was making her eighth lap around the track. She slowed to a steady jog, glancing towards the stands to see a blur of red hair. Jogging closer, her jaw dropped.

“Pam, the fuck are ya doin’ here?” she panted.

Pam smirked her trademark smirk.

“Decided to drive myself over today.”

Tossing her head to the parking lot, Harley saw the beat-up truck she’d met the night before and smiled a dopey grin, looking back at Pam.

“Gotham lets out a little earlier than Arkham. But I think our teammates will be joining us soon. What say you to a hurried, good-old-fashioned PG-13 make-out session under the bleachers?”

Harley wiped her hand across her clammy forehead and grinned.

“I’d say my coach has been sitting on the other side of bleachers to watch me run for the past two years, and he’s eyeing you like you’re the fly in his Gatorade.”

Pam looked up, suddenly noticing Lawton, who was indeed sitting on the benches at the other side of the football field. He was certainly far enough away to not have heard their conversation, but he was close enough that Pam could make out the disdain on his face.

“Yeesh. Another time, perhaps.”

“What’reya doin’ after practice?” Harley panted, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet.

“Homework, probably,” Pam admitted. “But I can spare ten, twenty minutes.”

Harley grinned wickedly, shooting Pam a kiss before starting off down the track again. Pam watched her run her remaining five laps, heart beating a little faster each time Harley passed her and shot her a wink.

Oh, she was so fucked.

When the bell rang announcing the end of classes, Harley shot a pointed look in Pam’s direction before trotting off towards the lockers. Pam glanced up at Lawton, who had a knowing glint in his eyes, but the look Harley had given her usurped the meticulous coach’s. Pam jogged after the blonde all the way to the locker room.

She opened the door of the (nearly) empty room and Harley immediately pounced her, lips pressing needfully into hers.

“We got about five minutes before the other girls get here,” Harley mumbled against her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“What I want, you can’t give me in five minutes,” Pam shot back, already helping Harley out of her workout shirt. (What? She was going to need to change for practice, anyway!)

“Foreplay, then,” Harley answered, pushing Pam up against the lockers in the same spot Pam had just a few days ago, though the motivation had changed a bit since. “You got it.”

Chapter Text

“Ladies!” Selina called above the chatter as the girls stretched together on the field. She eyed Harley and Pam’s close proximity and arched a quick brow before glancing away. “That warm-up was pitiful. I don’t care if you have to drown three Bangs before practice, you show up ready to fight. Ace?”

“Ace,” Harley repeated on her own. Selina nodded.

“Good. Huddle up, I’ll be giving you positions for tonight’s game.”

“Um, Selina?” Harley asked, approaching as the rest of the players began to rise and assemble. “Pam and I were talkin’ about this rut that the teams have been hittin’, and we were thinkin’ — while we got the opportunity to play with rival teams, what if the girls switched it up and we made two new teams out of a combination of Diamonds and Ivies?”

Pam nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah. And we were also thinking, what if each girl played a different position than the one they’re used to?”

Selina’s eyes narrowed.

“When were you guys discussing this?”

Harley’s cheeks flushed, but Pam maintained a cool disposition. Arching her brow challengingly, she eyed up her assistant coach.

“Do you like the idea or not, Kitty?”

Selina glared at the redhead, leaning in close.

“50 pushups during break, and you and I are gonna have a conversation regarding Harley later that you are not going to enjoy.” Then, she sighed, looking between the two girls. “Let me check with the coaches.”

Selina walked away, approaching Lawton and Wayne from their spots in the bleachers. Pam looked at Harley, who was chewing nervously on her lip, and couldn’t help but feel a little turned on at the delectable sight.

“Worried?” she whispered. Harley shook her head.

“I just don’t wanna make any wrong moves,” the blonde admitted. “Captains this week.”

“Hey, at least you guys get two captains,” Pam reminded, knocking into Harley’s shoulder. “I’m not so lucky.”

“Hey, guys, what are we talking about?” Zoe asked as she appeared as if from thin air, sidling between the pair and waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly. Harley groaned with a dramatic roll of her eyes and Zoe whined.

“Hey, c’mon, I wanna be in the know!” the shorter pitcher whined. “Pam, hey! Harley told me all about how you guys-”

Harley slapped her hand over Zoe’s mouth frantically and turned an even deeper shade of crimson, grinning unconvincingly at Pam. Suddenly, her face twisted in disgust as she drew her hand back and yelped.

“Jesus, Zoe, keep your tongue in your mouth!”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that to P-”

Harley’s fists balled in the front of Zoe’s jersey as she pulled the other girl close into her face, slapping on her scariest glare.

“Zoe, I love you to fuck, but if you announce my personal matters to the entire softball field I will shove my bat so far up your ass we’ll have to use you for next week’s game against Metropolis.”

Zoe swallowed and nodded, and Harley relented as Pam snickered and Selina approached.

“Good news, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Coached liked your ideas,” she announced. “And since said ideas came from you, you guys get to pick the teams.” Offering a small wink, she leaned in and lowered her voice. “Play your cards right, and this might really read well when they’re picking captains on Friday.”

Harley beamed and Pam allowed a slight crack in her steely exterior, the corner of her lip tugging gently upwards.

“Diamonds! Ivies!” Selina shouted to the field. “We’re switching it up today. Your enemy is now your friend, your brother is now your reckoning. Quinzel and Isley are gonna pick teams from the lot of you and tell you what position you’re playing. And Harley,” Selina lowered her voice again, turning to the pair. “You’ll be pitching. Pam, you’re catcher. Got it?”

Pam had to stop herself from gagging, but Harley lit up like a motherfucking Christmas tree. Grabbing for the mitt in Pam’s hand, she shoved her hand inside and winked at the taller girl.

“Game on, Pam-A-Lamb.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

By 5:55, Harley’s team, the Hyenas (don’t get Selina started, she did her best) was in the lead by a single run. This left Pam’s Poisons (Selina gave up on that one) wrestling for dominance. With five minutes left of the “game,” this didn’t give very much time for a catch-up. Harley shuffled in her cleats, dancing on the mound and obnoxiously wiggling her hips in a victory dance.

“Shoulda made me a pitcher, Coach!” She called over to Lawton. He shook his head from where he sat in the bleachers.

“That girl’s got some balls,” he mumbled to Coach Wayne beside him. “We’re recruited captains this week and she’s acting like a haughty drunken stripper.”

Wayne chuckled, crossing his arms.

“She’s a handful, Floyd, that’s for sure. But she’s a talented player. Colleges are gonna eat her up. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t make her a co-captain.”

“Maybe,” Lawton nodded in consideration. “But she’s too arrogant. She knows she’s good, and that’s great, but she spends more time talking about how talented she is than focusing on getting better. Now that Isley girl you’ve got…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Wayne smiled softly. “I’ve already got her pegged. But she gets distracted…”

The two men looked to the field where Pam was squatting in Harley’s catcher gear, very obviously fighting the urge to ogle at Harley’s swaying hips and looking at just about anything else. Harley pitched and the batter swung and missed, and so did Pam.

“Isley, you’ve got the easiest job on the field right now!” Selina shouted from a few feet away. Wayne chuckled.

“I gotta give the girl some credit,” he relented. “Harley’s obviously working her like a dog.”

“Do you think?” Lawton asked. “Isley and Quinzel?”

Wayne shrugged, but the smile played on his lips still.

“They certainly seem to enjoy each other’s company, is all I’m saying.”

“Yeah, well, two more days and Harley won’t be around to distract your prized pitcher. I say you keep Isley on your radar for captain.”

Wayne nodded thoughtfully as Pam caught the next strike. Zoe cursed and glanced over to her dad in the dugout.

“You’ll get ‘em next time, baby!” Lawton called.

Selina trotted onto the field.

“M’kay, ladies. The, uh… Hyenas take today’s game. You guys were great. New teams tomorrow! Hit the showers and go the fuck home.”

Harley pulled her mitt off as she jogged up to Pam to walk back to the lockers together.

“So… how’d it feel to have your ass whooped by me?” Harley prodded smugly.

“Technically, you didn’t whoop my ass. When I was hitting I made my first pitch,” Pam pointed out. Harley rolled her eyes.

“You seriously can’t be a sore loser for two seconds?”

“That’s your schtick, blondie,” Pam smirked, taking off the catcher’s helmet and trading it back for her pitcher’s mitt. “You won, fair and square.”

“You’re no fun, Red,” Harley pouted, jogging off to loop her arm through Zoe’s. Pam chuckled.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam was ready in five minutes, remembering how Harley liked to take long, luxurious showers, so she grabbed her duffle and backpack to haul to the truck. No sooner had she walked out of the locker room door, Selina was tight on her heels.

“Mind if I walk you to your car, Red?” The brunette asked, slinging her arm around Pam’s shoulders. “Funny you drove yourself today. Any particular reason?”

“I think you’ve got a pretty good idea,” Pam responded, not letting up in her pace but at least offering the coach at her side her attention. “Doesn’t Harley tell you everything?”

“Yeah, usually. Which is why I’m so curious as to why she neglected to tell me about this new adjustment.”

Selina tapped a bright red bruise peeking out from underneath the collar of Pam’s school uniform button-down. Pam could’ve denied it, but why waste the time?

“How many times are we going to have this conversation, ‘Lina?” The redhead groaned. “You told me yesterday to fix it. So I fixed it.”

“You did,” Selina nodded. “And now you’re locked and loaded. If you hurt her, I’ll break you. But listen.” Selina stopped suddenly, forcing Pam to join her. They were almost to her truck, anyway. “I also wanted to tell you thanks.”

Pam chuckled in amazement.

“I’m sorry?”

“Harley’s gone through a lot this past year,” Selina explained. “I won’t get into all of it, because it’s her story to tell and I’m sure you’ll get an earful soon. But you’ve put a smile on my girl’s face and given her something to work for. And I’m grateful to you for it. Keep it up and keep playing like you do, and you’ve got nothing to worry about from me. Keep your nose clean, kid.”

That, and a clap on Pam’s shoulder, and the brunette was walking off towards the stalling bus bound for Gotham Prep, leaving a bewildered redhead in her wake.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

When Harley stepped out of the shower, she discovered the usual deserted locker room waiting for her. Stepping quickly into her street clothes, she slung her bags over her shoulder and bustled out of the room.

The cool February air met her wet hair as she made her way to the parking lot, smiling in relief when she saw Pam’s truck was still there. Her grin widened when she saw Pam was leaning against said truck with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Hey there,” Harley hummed, looking around quickly before dropping her things to the ground and flinging her arms around the redhead, peppering her lips with kisses. Pam snaked her arms around Harley’s waist and pulled her in close, grateful for the warmth in the cold evening.

“Why don’t we take this inside?” Pam mumbled. Harley eagerly reached for the truck’s rusty handle and clambered inside behind Pam as they shut the door and fell into each other’s arms.

Pam quickly found herself in Harley’s lap, straddling the blonde and grading her fingers through damp blonde locks. She couldn’t help the gentle rock of her hips, which Harley was all too willing to reciprocate, happy to contribute to the breathy whimpers escaping Pam’s lips.

“Think we can play on the same team tomorrow?” Pam asked breathlessly, cupping the back of Harley’s neck.

“Mmm… why?” Harley asked as her tongue darted out to trace Pam’s lower lip.

“I can’t — fuck — focus when you’re doing that goddamn dance on the pitcher’s mound,” Pam whined, breath hitching when Harley lifted one of her thighs a little higher than the other to settle between Pam’s legs.

“You love it.”

Pam did love it. She was going to show Harley how much she loved it, but in that moment a knock came from the window. Pam jumped in Harley’s arms, their grips on each other tightening as they looked out the window to see a bright-red Coach Lawton averting his eyes. He swallowed uncomfortably as Pam climbed out of Harley’s lap and rolled down the window.

“H- Hey Coach,” Harley tried weakly from Pam’s side. “What’s up?”

“I just came to, um, let you guys know that there are cameras in this parking lot and you’ll uh… get in trouble for doing that here. They sometimes go back and watch the tapes. Also, I think I saw a kid take a picture on his phone and ride away on his bike.”

“Right…” Harley mumbled. “Uh, thanks. Thank you. Coach. See you tomorrow?”

Lawton nodded, sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“Y’aright, coach?”

“Yeah, fine” he grumbled, walking away and pulling his phone out. “Just, lost a bet.”

Harley turned to look at Pam, feeling laughter rising in her throat, which she was barely able to contain in the three seconds it took for Pam to roll the window back up.

“Did our coaches have a bet on if we were snogging?” Pam asked as Harley cackled away.

“They musta’!” Harley snorted, smacking the edge of the seat.

“Oh, Harls, come on, this is embarrassing!”

“It’s hilarious, Red!”

“It’s really not that funny, Harley! What if this affects our standing as captain contenders?”

Harley guffawed at that, kicking her feet out.

“Harleen Quinzel, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Harley's laughter finally began to subside, and then she was the one to crawl into Pam's lap, settling her knees on either side of Pam's legs as a serious expression took over and donned her gentle facial features.

"Whatcha doin' Friday night, Red?"

Pam swallowed, her hands falling to Harley's hips.

"Uhh..."

"I wanna take you out," Harley explained, and Pam felt a wave of relief wash over. She smiled up at the blue eyes looking at her.

"Like a date?"

Harley nodded.

"Yeah, a date."

"An actual date," Pam repeated. Harley snorted.

"Yeah, Red, is it so hard to comprehend?"

"To clarify, this isn't a hate date at a pizzeria or an awkward -ish date in your bedroom," Pam continued. Harley smacked her arm playfully and then rested her hands on either side of the pitcher's head, leaning in close and nuzzling her nose to Pam's cheek.

"An honest-to-god, cheesy-as-shit date," she mumbled before leaning in and claiming Pam's lips in her own in a slow, purposeful kiss. Pam tilted her chin up and murmured softly to greet Harley's pink lips, thinking as the windows of her truck fogged over that she was possibly the luckiest teenager in the world.

Chapter Text

Thursday and Friday’s practices went off without a hitch, with Harley and Pam leading for the large majority of the evening. Zoe had begun stepping in, as well, hoping beyond hope that she might be considered for the second captain’s position on the Diamonds, but she wasn’t alone. Many of the girls began to follow in Harley and Pam’s wake, offering up what ideas they could and scrambling to show off their leadership skills. They were blindsided, of course.

It was no surprise when two sheets of paper were posted outside the locker room with Harley’s and Pam’s names listed at the top of each.

“Red, oh my god!” Harley squealed, leaping into the other girl’s arms (clandestineness be damned) and Pam offered a relieved chuckle, allowing her arms to slip easily around Harley’s waist. Other parties were not so satisfied.

Zoe stared at the name beneath Harley’s.

Tatsu Yamashiro.

It was true, Tatsu had risen up and helped Harley with game plays the past few days. She was a team player and a decent shortstop. But she’d done no more than Zoe herself had, and Zoe was the fucking pitcher, goddammit. The pitcher on a softball team had the same clout that a quarterback in football did! And Zoe had worked her ass off!

Wiping her nose gruffly with her wrist, Zoe pushed through the crowd of girls, some disappointed and others congratulating the three new captains, and approached her father, who she could tell was doing his best to avoid the coming conversation. Scribbling on his clipboard, he sighed as she approached him silently.

“Can we wait until we get to the car before doing this?” Lawton sighed, suddenly very interested in the corner of his notebook paper.

“I earned that second spot, dad,” Zoe said, not bothering to lower her voice. “I earned it fair and square.”

“It was between you or Tatsu, Zoe,” Lawton explained, lowering his clipboard at last. “You were amazing this week, baby, really, but Tatsu is a senior and I can’t…”

He looked around before leaning down to Zoe’s level gently.

“I can’t look like I’m showing favoritism, Zo, colleges won’t think you earned your place.”

“Colleges? For fuck’s sake, dad, colleges care about captains!”

With that, Zoe stormed off to the lockers through the mass of girls, pushing right past Harley. Harley almost had enough time to be by bothered by the treatment but then, right in front of everyone, Pam cupped her jawline and planted a searing kiss on her lips.

A few of the girls whooped, and for both teams’ credit, nobody seemed at all revolted or displeased with the sudden display. The fact of the matter was, nobody really seemed all that surprised. From the edge of the crowd, Lawton grumbled and pulled a ten from his wallet, handing it to Coach Wayne, who allowed a small smile. Selina gagged as she stepped forward and knocked Pam on the shoulder gently.

“Alright, alright, we get it, you’re sexy and talented and everyone wants to be you,” she deadpanned, but even she couldn’t completely conceal the smile threatening to split across her face. “Here you are, you can put ‘em on yourselves.”

She extended her hands, presenting each of the girls with an embroidered patch in the shape of the letter “C.” Pam’s was green with a golden yellow trim, and Harley’s was black with three tiny red diamonds embroidered at the bottom edge. The blonde smiled, throwing her arms around Selina and gripping her as tightly as she could muster before planting a humongous kiss on her ex-coach’s cheek.

“You’re the best, Kitty,” Harley mumbled.

Selina nodded and winked.

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it. Hey Tatsu, you get a patch too! Sorry, you don’t have a super hot girlfriend to help you steal the show.”

Harley grinned and approached her new co-captain. Tatsu offered a humorous smirk.

“I’m not kissing you, Quinzel,” she clarified, and Harley laughed with an extension of her hand, which Tatsu shook firmly.

“I look forward to workin’ with ya.”

Tatsu nodded, then tossed her head in the direction of the locker room.

“Sorry about your friend, I think she thinks I stole the position from her.”

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” Harley dismissed. “She has next year! So anyway, when can you meet up to discuss warmup routines?”

Pam realized, watching Harley, that the petite catcher could soak in the spotlight for days. It was one of the many things she was discovering she loved about Harley — she loved people. And here, Pam couldn’t count a single friend. Unless one were to include Harley. But then… would one include Harley? Were they friends? Were they…

Oh my god what are we?

Pam shuddered at the thought, and continued to shudder as she accepted hearty congratulation after hearty congratulation. She shuddered in the shower, and she shuddered as she changed. She shuddered as she walked out of the locker room and walked out to the parking lot, surprised to find Harley leaning against her bike.

“Since when are you ready before me?” Pam asked with a quirk of her brow. Harley shrugged.

“I was excited for our date!”

Did friends go on dates together?

“Right. Well, as you can see, I didn’t bring my truck. Mind if I hitch a ride with you?”

“Whatever you say, oh captain my captain!” Harley said with a wink and a mock salute. Pam rolled her eyes.

“That won’t be the last of the captain jokes, will it?”

Harley giggled as she looped her arms around Pam’s waist and looked up at her with twinkling eyes.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely not. Shall we?”

Pam kissed the tip of Harley’s nose.

“We shall.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley sped Betty all the way home, though she had to admit that she relished in the way Pam’s fingers danced along her ribs as they rode together through the twilight. High on her new title and the sensation of Pam’s arms wrapped around her, she felt invincible.

As Betty purred to a stop in front of her house, she caught Pam’s arms before the latter could retract them.

“What is it?” Pam asked.

“Can we just stay like this for a sec?” Harley mumbled, closing her eyes and sinking back into Pam’s embrace. “This is really nice.”

Pam smiled, tightening her hold around the smaller girl and breathing in the smell of Harley’s Old Spice and peach-scented shampoo. Harley snuggled back against her and sighed. After a few seconds, she turned her head to the side in search of Pam’s face. The redhead chuckled.

“What are you doing, Harley?”

“Lookin’ for your mouth,” was her earnest reply. Pam snorted.

“Harley, you’ve being super gay right now. We can make out inside.”

“Oooor,” Harley corrected, gracefully swinging her left leg over the side of her bike and switching direction so she was now facing Pam knee-to-knee, “we could make out out here. On my bike.”

Pam swallowed, face flushing, when Barry burst through the front door.

“Harley!” he hollered. “Mom wants to know why you’re eye-fucking your girlfriend on your motorcycle!”

“Barry, I told you not to use those words!” came Sharon’s distant, disembodied voice before she appeared beside her son and smiled at the pair, who were still sitting perplexed on the bike.

“Girls,” she smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh, actually, ma, I ordered a pizza for Pam and I,” Harley replied, dismounting the bike and helping Pam off. “We’ve got lots of homework to do.”

Pam let her eyebrow rise but thought better than to dispute Harley’s lie in front of her mother, instead offering a courteous smile to the lady of the house.

“Hi, Mrs. Quinzel,” she greeted. “Um, sorry. Sharon. How are you?”

“Just fine, Pam, I’m doin’ just fine,” Sharon smirked. “Harley tells me you made captain of the Ivies.”

Pam did allow her chest to puff out with pride a little at that as Harley unstrapped their bags from the back of Betty. Sharon nodded in approval.

“Congrats! Now you guys can compete for real. In real games!”

“Are you dating?” Barry asked suddenly, and Harley nearly dropped backpack in her arms. Pam coughed profusely, feeling an unwelcome sweat prickling at her brow.

“Barry!” Sharon scolded. “You can’t ask people that.”

“Why not?” Barry shrugged. “It’s an honest question.”

“One that you don’t need an answer to!” Harley grumbled, throwing her softball duffle at Barry and knocking him over.

Never mind the fact that Harley herself didn’t have an answer to that question.

“Pam, let’s go.”

Pam offered an apologetic shrug to Barry as she made her way through the door and a smile and nod to Sharon as they passed. Harley led them to her room, where they sat down their school bags and equipment, and Pam sighed.

“Why’d you tell your mom we’re staying in tonight?” The redhead asked. “Won’t she realize we aren’t home when we’re on our date?”

“Oh…” Harley mumbled, a worried look taking over her features. “Well, I was… kind of planning on having the date here.”

“Oh. Oh!” Pam’s brain caught up with her then. “Oh, that’s perfect, Harley! That’s perfect, what are we doing?”

Harley felt the excitement jump back into her then as she pulled Pam’s backpack off of her shoulder and took the redhead’s hand, leading her into the hallway.

“Now, I don’t have a second story, like you do,” Harley explained as she walked down the hallway and gazed up at the ceiling. “But, we have got an air-conditioned attic that makes for a pretty sick she-cave.” Finding her target, Harley zeroed in on the trap door in the ceiling, jumping up to grab the tassel and pull it down. As she tugged, a ladder unfolded and revealed a tiny opening leading up into the roof of the house.

“Never seen one of these before?” Harley asked. Pam shook her head and Harley laughed.

“What’s so funny, Quinzel?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Harley shook her head, gesturing for Pam to ascend. “You’re just so rich, Pam.”

Pam made her way up the ladder, finding the structure surprisingly sturdy, and felt her heart flutter as her head crested the baseboards of the attic. Emerging into the space, she smiled at the obvious care Harley had taken.

Strewn around the “room” were soft pink fairy lights, illuminating the display before her. Pillows and blankets were piled strategically in the center of the floor, clearly intended as a nest, and a laptop sat open with a case of DVDs beside it. Nearby lay a pizza — a 16 inch with mushrooms, peppers, olives, and sausage — and two hotdogs and some cokes. There was also a protein shake and a metal straw.

“I had Selina drop off the pizza and hotdogs a couple’a minutes ago, Barry set them up here,” Harley explained, appearing beside Pam. “So it’s not cold or nothin’. The pizza’s the same one we got on our first sorta date, and the hotdogs and the protein shake are what we were eatin’ when we first met off-field. D’ya like it?”

Pam was not a pussy. Her mother, Grace Eileen Isley, did not raise a little bitch. But in that moment Pam felt, for the first time since the third grade, the impulse to cry.

Swallowing any whimpers before they could escape, she simply turned and wrapped Harley up in her arms, nuzzling her face in the shorter girls neck and sighing contentedly.

“No one’s ever done something like this for me before,” she mumbled sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Well, a’course, Pammy, I wanna make you happy,” Harley answered matter-of-factly, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing Pam had ever heard someone say to her. But Pam just rolled her eyes and pulled away.

“Pammy?”

Harley smiled.

“Your name is just so fuckin’ easy make nicknames outta.”

They settled on the blankets and pillows then, Pam’s head resting on Harley chest as they set the laptop up and Harley pressed play on ‘her absolute favorite movie of all time,’ True Romance. Pam was sure it was indeed a very interesting movie, but she was far more infatuated with the responses coming from Harley than the film itself.

“Tastes like a peach,” Harley whispered softly along with the audio, and Pam chuckled, tilting her chin up to gaze at the blonde.

“Is that why you always smell like peaches?”

Harley smiled and shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a subconscious choice’a mine.”

Pam didn’t turn back to the laptop screen, opting instead to rest her chin against Harley's breast and continue to gaze up at her. Harley tried valiantly to keep watching, her gaze steady on the laptop screen, but eventually, she had to acknowledge the fixed stare she was on the receiving end of.

“You’re missin' the movie, Red,” she mumbled, gaze unwavering as she fought a smile.

“I’ve got a much better view right here,” Pam mumbled against Harley’s breast, eliciting a giggle from the younger woman.

“Are you sweet talkin’ me, Red?”

“Is it working?”

Closing the laptop, Harley cupped Pam’s jaw and gently pulled, encouraging rather than actually tugging Pam towards her. The redhead submitted, climbing up Harley’s body until they were face-to-face.

“Yes.”

Pam surrendered then, head dropping as she leaned in to kiss Harley tenderly. The blonde hummed in contentment, hands sliding up Pam’s tanned arms to fist in her hair as Pam’s right hand came to cup her cheek, thumb stroking a sharp cheekbone. She pulled away just barely and opened her eyes, searching the blue ones gazing back at her.

“This was really special, Harley,” Pam mumbled. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Harley smiled a little shyly at that, then lowered her hands to the small of Pam’s back, fingers dancing over her spine.

“I’m nuts aboutcha, Pammy.”

Pam smiled, kissing Harley softly once more.

“I’m pretty crazy about you, too, sweet thing.”

Harley pulled a little on Pam’s back and the redhead succumbed again, stooping down to capture Harley’s lips in yet another kiss. It was fated form the start, as Harley accidentally bit down on Pam’s lip in surprise, immediately igniting a flame under the taller girl’s belly. Pam’s intention shifted immediately as she groaned in pleasant surprise, and the sound was enough to kickstart Harley into gear.

It didn’t take long for the blonde to flip their positions (Pam blamed her incredible catcher’s thighs), kissing down the column of Pam’s throat as she situated her hips between Pam’s legs and elicited a purr of pleasure from the redhead.

“Ya like that, Red?” Harley asked, thumbs finding two sharp hipbones and pressing down firmly. Pam groaned.

“Don’t be cheeky, Harley, you know I like that.”

Harley pouted, pressing one kiss to Pam’s collarbone.

“How would I know that?”

Pam growled in frustration. “Because I’m a fucking human being, Harleen.”

Harley shuddered at the use of her full name and settled her hips against Pam’s, rocking forward just once. Pam whimpered.

“Yeah, I was bein’ cheeky,” Harley affirmed with a smug grin. “But then, you already called me out on that, didn’t you?”

“Harley, would you just shut up and kiss me?”

Harley licked her lips in a way that Pam could only describe as feral before dragging her teeth along the muscle of Pam’s neck, nipping on her shoulder before hovering back over Pam’s lips.

“Gladly.”

The kiss was wet, searing, and hot as fuck. Pam’s tongue traced gently along Harley’s lower lip, which the blonde graciously welcomed, murmuring nothing coherent in response. When the tip of Pam’s tongue traced along the roof of Harley’s mouth, the latter felt her eyes roll back in her head.

Hands were scrambling to find purchase where they could, and hips were beginning to rock into each other. Without even registering it, Harley’s fingers began to reach for Pam’s jeans, and by the time her brain had caught up to her hands, she had already unbuttoned them and worked the fly halfway down. Realization flooding through her, Harley stilled in her movements and opened her eyes wide, looking up to find Pam’s eyes were already on her. Both girls were motionless for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Harley admitted. “I can pull my hand away.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Pam replied, her voice low and dangerous. So Harley did not.

“What do you want me to do with it, then?” she asked. Pam swallowed.

“I want you to finish unzipping my pants,” the redhead instructed hoarsely, “and then I want you to rub me through my panties.”

Oh holy saint fucking Mary mother of—

“If that’s okay,” Pam tacked on lamely.

Harley nodded, gingerly finishing off the fly zipper one tooth at a time, blue eyes locked tight on green ones. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached her hand beneath Pam’s jeans and found Pam’s center through her panties, already soaked through. Pam hissed, hips bucking upwards, and Harley bit down on her own lip so hard she tasted blood.

“Jesus, Red,” Harley groaned. “That’s… you’re…”

“Touch me, Harley,” Pam ordered, and goddammit if Harley wasn’t the biggest service top that ever topped.

It didn’t take long to work Pam into a sweating, writhing mess beneath her. Harley was excellent with her fingers, and she knew what felt good. She didn’t dare venture beneath Pam’s underwear, she wouldn’t dare without a firm request from the pitcher, but the sheer fabric was so soaked that at times she forgot the barrier was there at all. Pam’s hips began to buck in a regular, controlled pattern and Harley’s fingers found a steady pace, circling the swollen nub she could feel just beneath the thin fabric. Pam’s breathing was shallow and throaty, a telltale sign of what was soon to follow.

“H- Harley,” Pam panted, fingertips digging into Harley’s biceps. “Harley, I’m gonna c-“

“Harley!” a second voice shouted from downstairs, taking the blonde by such surprise that she jerked and leaped into the air, hand darting out of Pam’s pants. The redhead whined at the loss of contact and her face twisted into one of severe discomfort, fists twisting in the sheets as her thighs began to squeeze together of their own accord.

“Harley, I need you to come help with the dishes!”

Harley realized then that she was panting too, and looked down at Pam, who had finally cracked an eye.

“I am going to fucking murder you,” Pam threatened.

“I… totally believe you,” Harley admitted. But then, to her surprise, Pam broke into a girlish giggle.

“As hot as that was,” the pitcher purred, sitting up to match Harley’s height, “it’s probably a good thing she stopped us. I want our first time to be special.”

“So we’re gonna have a first time,” Harley baited, wagging her eyebrows. “A heavy implication of a second and perchance third time."

"Don't you push your luck, Quinzel, you just gave me blue balls."

"And you want our first time to be special! Oh, Pam, you little pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy.”

"Pammy the pussy!"

"Harleen, I am not a pussy."

“You’re totally a pussy.”

Harley kissed Pam’s cheek and crawled towards the trapdoor, pushing it open and descending the ladder that unfolded.

“If you finish yourself off while I’m gone I expect a detailed dissertation when I get back,” the blonde instructed. Pam smiled and saluted.

“Ay, ay, captain.”

Harley felt her chest swell with pride.

Chapter Text

Pam woke up with an ache in her back. As her eyes blinked open and she remembered where she was, she realized why.

Not only was Harley wound as tightly around the redhead as humanly possible, but her tiny twin bed demanded an unbelievably close proximity from the two girls. Arching her back as much as the bed and Harley would allow, Pam looked at the snoozing blonde beside her.

Harley’s lips were parted slightly, and the corner of them twitched up in a delicate smile. Pam realized this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen her, and she had to resist the urge to kiss the smaller girl awake.

“Y’starin’, Red.”

Ah. So she was already awake.

“You’re drooling, Harls.”

Eyes still shut, Harley closed her mouth and sloppily drug her wrist across her face before slipping her arms under her pillow to cuddle it closer.

“Come back ta bed,” she mumbled.

“I’m still in bed.”

“Butchain’t sleepin’,” Harley grumbled. “Come snuggle me.”

“I’m not… really one for ‘snuggling,’” Pam tried. Harley opened her eyes into an angry pout as she found Pam’s gaze.

“Well I am,” Harley huffed. “And you’re in my house.”

“It’s 9 in the morning, Harley, usually by now I’ve finished my morning workout and started my reading.”

“It’s Saturday, Pam.”

“Exactly! I slept in past my sleep-in.”

Harley sat up at that.

“Pam, do you consider waking up at 7 in the morning ‘sleeping in?’”

When the redhead shrugged Harley groaned and dropped her head to the taller girl’s shoulder, sighing.

“I guess we’re up, then. Breakfast?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam cooked.

She didn’t just cook, she cooked. All Harley had in her kitchen was a few standard pantry items and some eggs, and Pam was able to whip up the sexiest omelet Harley had ever seen. Which made Pam officially the sexiest human being Harley had ever met. When she set it down on the table, Harley’s mouth began to water.

“I thought you had a cook,” she joked facetiously, taking a bite and swallowing down a moan with her egg and mushrooms. Pam didn’t pick up on the sarcasm and just nodded, taking a sip of the protein shake she hadn’t gotten around to the night before thanks to Harley’s merciless tongue.

“We do. But my mom insisted on cooking and piano classes for me to make me more marketable.”

“‘Marketable?’” Harley repeated incredulously. “Jesus, Pam, you’re a kid, not a business plan.”

“I’m eighteen.”

Harley choked on her omelet for a second, taking a second to swallow before looking up at Pam through watery eyes.

“What?” she croaked.

“Okay, well technically I turn eighteen next week, but-”

“Pam, you scared me,” Harley interrupted. “Okay, were you seriously not going to mention this to me if it hadn’t come up?”

“I don’t take my birthday very seriously,” Pam chuckled.

“But you’re gonna be an adult, Pam,” Harley pushed. “Oh my god, you’re gonna be an adult. You’re a cougar!”

“Please don’t call me a cougar, Harleen.”

“It’s a good thing we started snogging before all this, or you’d be arrested.”

“Harley-”

“So what are you doing for your birthday?”

Pam sighed, taking a long pull from her shake.

“My parents are holding this stupid coming out ball like we’re still living in the 60s or something. It’s going to be a long, boring dinner and then a bunch of rich pricks standing around sipping on champagne.”

Harley felt a little pang of hurt that she hadn’t been invited, but she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. She and Pam had only just started whatever this was, it wasn’t like they were dating or anything, and she definitely didn’t fit the criteria for such an event. Still, her gaze fell to her plate as she chewed away.

“You, uh… you’re… welcome to come, if you like?” Pam offered, almost as if it were an afterthought. Harley laughed and shrugged.

“I don’t know, Pam. Not really my scene.”

“No, I’ll add you to the guest list,” Pam decided. “You can even bring a plus one. Maybe Zoe or your new co-captain. It’ll be fun!”

Harley’s gaze narrowed — Pam had literally just used the words “long” and “boring” to describe what she was now claiming to be a “fun” event. But she sighed and shrugged. If Pam wanted her there, who was she argue?

“Sure, why not? Anyway, I’m cheerin' an away game today. Wanna come watch and make-out in your truck after?”

A devilish glint flickered behind Pam’s eyes.

“I have a better idea.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam had called Frank to take her home for the day (so her mother wouldn’t get too suspicious) with the promise that she’d meet Harley back at her house at five that evening. Harley didn’t want to admit that she’d immediately missed the redhead’s presence and tried to distract herself with a workout in her room, hoping to get some last-minute toning in before she’d be flashing her entire stomach to her entire school and more. She was holding a plank when she heard a soft knock at her door.

“Come in,” she strained as her knees hit the floor and she came out of the position. Sharon entered, a small smile on her face.

“Hey, baby,” the older Quinzel greeted. “Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, just trying to get in a workout before the game. Don’t wanna case of squishy tummy. What’s up?”

Sharon let herself into the room and sat on her daughter’s bed, patting the spot next to her in a clear start to one of her “mom talks.” Harley complied, trying not to succumb to the anxiety that was brewing in the pit of her stomach as she settled on her rumpled comforter.

“Mom-“ she began wearily.

“It’s not the safe sex talk,” Sharon interrupted. “Although, you know, that’s important, too. Seriously, STIs are no joke. Did you know in college I-”

“Ma!”

“Sorry.” Sharon smiled sheepishly. “I just…. wanted to talk to you about Pamela.”

“What about her?” Harley mumbled, anxiety cresting once more.

“She’s… well, she’s beautiful, Harley.”

Harley smiled a little in spite of herself.

“I know.”

“And she’s bright and charismatic and I can tell she’s a very talented young woman. I can also tell that you’re very, very fond of her. Now, I don’t need details. I don’t care if you’re dating or sleeping together or neither or both, I just wanna make sure that you’re being a mature young adult about all of this.”

Harley nodded, a puzzled expression chiseled on her face.

“All this to say,” Sharon continued cautiously, “where is Arthur’s standing in all of this?”

Wham. There it was again. Arthur. Jesus, if Harley had known how complicated car sex was gonna turn out to be, she would’ve never agreed to suck his dick. But now it was too late, and her face fell into her hands as she let out an exhausted groan.

“Oh, fuck, ma. Pam is Arthur 2.0.”

Sharon nodded understandingly and patted her daughter’s shoulder, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb.

“Here’s the thing, Harley,” the older woman concluded. “If you want to fuck ‘em both, fuck ‘em both. If you just want to keep your good thing going with Arthur, by all means, do. If you want to drop him and pursue Pam, that’s amazing. But you need to talk to them, and they need to be aware of each other. Harley.”

Harley looked up through her hands, and even through the small openings between her fingers, a deep blush was visible on her cheeks.

“Are they aware of each other?”

Harley shook her head. Pam knew that she and Arthur were ‘chummy’ but hadn’t brought him up since they’d begun their private rendezvous together. And Arthur…

Oh, poor Arthur.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam arrived in her truck at precisely 4:57, and Harley was zooming out the door and into the taller woman’s arms before she even had a chance to walk up the driveway. As soon as she made contact, Harley was jumping up and wrapping her legs around the pitcher’s waist as Pam caught her by the hips and gripped her ass, wasting no time in pressing pink lips to chapped ones.

“Mmph. Harley, you have neighbors.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Harley mumbled, biting down on Pam’s lower lip.

“And I have to get you to your game,” Pam tried again, but she was finding it harder and harder to refuse the blonde in her arms, who was squeezing her legs together in such a maddening way.

“Maybe — oh no! We got into a car accident!” Harley offered the excuse enthusiastically.

“Harley, you have to go to your game.”

And with that, Pam walked to the passenger side of the car, meandering Harley against her hip as if she were a toddler, opened the door, and plopped the shorter girl inside, even buckling her seatbelt for her.

“Stay,” Pam ordered before shutting the door and getting into the truck on the driver’s side.

Harley blinked as Pam started the engine.

“I dunno if I should be turned on, embarrassed, or amused.”

“Be all three, darling,” Pam answered before giving Harley’s lips a quick peck and shifting into reverse. Then, offering a glance to her right, she whetted her lips with the tip of her tongue, drinking in the black and red cheerleading uniform that graced Harley’s body and offered oh, so little to the imagination.

“You look incredible.”

“You’ve seen me in this before, Pam,” Harley pointed out, though she sat up a bit taller and a little smirk pricked up in the corner of her mouth.

“I wasn’t making out with you before,” Pam pointed out. “And believe me, you looked incredible then, too. Selina had a huge job, watching you cheer right next to me.”

Harley smiled, looking out the window to hide the tiny blush tickling her cheeks. She noticed Pam’s hand resting on the stick shift and chucked.

“Your truck's automatic, Pam, why d'you keep your hand on the stick?”

Pam was silent for a second as she pulled out of Haley’s neighborhood and onto the street, but then she smiled a perfect Jack Dawson smile and looked at Harley through twinkling eyes.

“I was hoping that if I put my hand here like this between us, that you might feel compelled to put your hand on top of mine, and then in a totally spontaneous manner we might hold hands on the way to your game.”

Harley smiled softly, resting her pale hand on Pam’s and gently turning it over so she could interlace their fingers.

“Pam, you’re such a dumbass. If you wanted’a hold hands, you coulda just asked.”

Chapter Text

Pam shifted into park after squeezing into a spot at the back of the lot, hoping their early arrival would mean some time alone with Harley. There was something she’d been meaning to ask, but the blonde hadn’t really given her mouth a break the night previous. She turned her head, lips parting gently in preparation, but Harley’s mouth was on her own before the words could tumble from her lips, and Pam felt herself sigh into the kiss.

This was so much better than talking.

“Take your seatbelt off,” Harley ordered in a low voice, and Pam complied frantically as Harley slid a leg over Pam’s so that she was straddling just one of her thighs. Harley kissed a line from Pam’s lips to ear and bit down gently on her earlobe, earning a muffled whimper from the redhead. Pam, discovering her lips were now free, decided now was as good a time as any to try to get in a word. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the fact that Harley was always trying to devour her, but this was important.

“Harley,” she whispered tentatively as Harley continued her attack on the soft skin behind Pam’s ear. “I have a question.”

“Shoot, Red,” Harley purred, teeth dragging along Pam’s throat. She whimpered.

“Um….”

Harley peppered Pam’s jawline in featherlight kisses, tongue darting out on occasion to smooth along the narrow ridge.

“Speak, Red,” Harley joked before nipping gently. Pam jolted.

“I can’t speak when you’re — hoooooooooo fuckin’ hell, Harley.”

Harley had slid her knee forward and was now pushing gently against the apex of Pam’s thighs as she nuzzled her cheek against Pam’s innocently.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Whatdya wanna ask me, baby?” Harley purred, cupping Pam’s jaw and pulling away enough to gaze into green eyes. Said green eyes darkened suddenly, a buzzer word evidently found.

“Call me baby again.”

Harley’s eyes flickered as she leaned in and kissed Pam slow and hard, shifting her knee gently and relishing in the way Pam’s hips arched off the seat.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

Pam nodded, brows knit tightly together. Harley smirked and rolled off of her suddenly, adjusting her slightly rumpled crop top and shooting the most ridiculous shit-eating grin Pam’s way.

“That’s good to know! I gotta get inside, cheer captain hasta meet with the away coaches early to go over spacing.”

Pam was so ready to reach across the bench seat and throttle Harley against the passenger door, but the blonde was already slipping out of the truck and walking around to get Pam’s door for her. As she yanked it open, she continued to smile that cocky smile.

“I’m gonna fucking eviscerate you,” Pam promised, glaring daggers into Harley as she undid her belt and hopped out of the car before locking it.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” Harley taunted, dragging out the pet name that had gotten Pam so riled up just seconds before. The latter felt a deep blush take hold and her eyes shot downward as they made their way to the school.

“I’ll get you back,” she promised weakly, and Harley threw her head back and laughed.

“I’ll bet you will, hotshot. Come on, I’m about to be late.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam was settled in the visitor's bleachers doing homework when the players finally jogged onto the field, followed quickly by the cheer squad. She felt her heart leap into her throat when she spotted Harley, who had the same shit-eating a grin and a very obvious hickey on her neck peeking haphazardly through poorly applied makeup. Pam blushed.

Oops.

She tried to focus on her homework when Harley wasn’t cheering, but since the squad stayed at the edge of the field for the majority of the game, she found it hard to look at anything else. Especially the way Harley shifted from toe to toe in anticipation, accentuating each individual curve of her ass. As the game neared its end, Harley kept glancing up to where Pam sat, excitement etched on her face. And Pam knew exactly what the blonde was excited about. Shit, she was excited, too.

It was distractions like these that drew her attention away from her surroundings so that she was surprised when an unannounced figure plopped down right next to her and comfortably slung his arm around her shoulder.

“What the fu-”

Pam stopped herself as she turned and drank in the newcomer's presence to discover none other than Arthur Curry, who was grinning at her. It wasn’t even a sarcastic smile, so she couldn’t even really be all that pissed.

“Arthur?” she asked. His smile… grew? At least what little of it she could spot through his facial hair. Really, it was in the eyes more than anything.

“Hey, Pammy!” he beamed, rattling her around before withdrawing his arm and leaning back into his seat, kicking his feet up on the bench in front of them.

Pam’s body tensed. Admittedly, she’d completely forgotten about Arthur. Had Harley spoken with him? It didn’t seem she had, considering his body language and genuine smile. She swallowed and put away her laptop, bag assembled in case the need for a quick getaway should arise.

“I haven’t seen you in a bit,” she mumbled. “Are you here for Harley?”

Of course he was. What a stupid question. Still, he nodded and tossed his head to the field.

“She looks great, doesn’t she?”

Pam swallowed. She really did.

“Are you here for Harley?” he redirected, smile finally faltering as he quirked a brow. Pam sighed.

“Uh, yeah. I gave her a ride.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed at that.

“Weird. I offered to drive her but she said she was riding the bus with the squad.”

Pam’s face flushed, and she had to give Arthur credit where credit was due — he noticed. So he was smart, too. That was a development.

“She lied to me, I guess,” he deduced, face falling a little. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

Goddamn, this was painful.

The game ended shortly after that (Arkham won, and no surprised with a cheer team like the one they had) and Harley was grinning ear-to-ear when she looked back up to Pam in the stands. It took only a millisecond for her smile to fall, and the look that replaced it was one that could only be described as pure terror.

“Which one of us is she disappointed to see?” Arthur pondered with a humorless, sarcastic chuckle.

“I think it was seeing us together,” Pam concluded, a frown shaping her own lips as Harley sprinted to the nearest staircase and trotted towards them, neither of the pair moving from their spots. Harley wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, panting, as she stood looking up at the pair from the bottom of the bleachers. Pam was twiddling her thumbs anxiously and Arthur’s face was ashy and solemn. He spoke first.

“Are you two fucking?”

Both girls were startled by the bluntness of the question and shifted uncomfortably. Harley shook her head, and Pam looked down at the metal floor, tapping her foot as a sinking feeling consumed her entire chest.

“Are you together?” he followed up. Pam looked up at that and felt her heart sink when she saw the look in Harley’s eyes and the (somewhat gentler) shake of her head.

Okay, Pam hadn’t wanted to assume anything. She knew they hadn’t had the conversation yet. But she had wanted to, she had tried to. Both last night and in the drive over and when Harley was on top of her in her truck before the game. She’d wanted to clarify things, dammit. And she wanted… Harley.

But evidently Harley didn’t want her.

“Right,” Pam said, clearing her throat. “Well, I think it’s time I head home. You were great, Harley. Good to see you, Arthur, I trust you can take her home?”

“Wait, Red!” Harley tried, surging forward, but Pam dodged out of her way.

“Actually, I think I need to be alone for a bit,” Arthur corrected, rising to his feet himself.

“Arthur, I’ll see you Monday?” Harley tried, now being pulled in the opposite direction.

“Maybe,” he responded bitterly, swinging his leg over the bottom bench and descending the stairs towards the parking lot. Harley turned back to Pam, who was beginning to make an exit for the other staircase.

“Pam!” she tried with a start forward, finally catching up to the redhead who was refusing to make eye contact. “Pam, let’s talk.”

“I’d love to,” Pam ground out through clenched teeth, still refusing to glance at Harley as she plowed through the parking lot towards her truck. Harley perked up at that.

“Really?”

“Sure. Were you two fucking since we started seeing each other?”

“No, of course not!” Harley insisted. “Pam, I’m not an asshole.”

Pam offered a side glare at that, and Harley clamped her mouth shut.

“Did you tell him you were seeing me?” Pam asked as she continued her power walk.

“N- No, not exactly, I hadn’t found the right time yet.”

“And what were you going to tell him once you did finally get around to it?” Pam finally finished as they approached the truck, rounding on Harley with her entire body. Harley stammered.

“Wh- I, uhm… I don’t know?”

Pam rolled her eyes and yanked her door open.

“Not good enough.”

As she began to get into the truck, she noticed Harley hadn’t made a move to follow and stopped. Sighing, she jerked her head to the passenger seat.

“I’m not gonna leave you here, stranded. Get in the fucking truck.”

Harley’s gaze fell to the pavement as she circled the car and gingerly slid into the passenger seat, hands finding a home in her lap as she looked anywhere but at the beautiful, enraged redhead beside her.

The drive home was silent. Harley wanted to talk, but she could never find the right words. So instead she counted the light posts they passed and wished she hadn’t told Arthur about the game the week prior, and wished he hadn’t come like he usually never came, and wished she knew what she would’ve said to him when she told him about Pam.

Pam pulled into Harley’s driveway after what felt like an eternity and sighed before shutting the engine off, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Harley sat in silence, feeling much like a small child awaiting a scolding from a parent. When Pam opened her eyes, there was a deep sadness behind them.

“I wanted to know if we were exclusive,” the taller girl finally said. “Earlier, when I was trying to talk to you. I wanted to know if we were together. Because I wanted to be, Harley. I wanted to be with you.”

Harley noted with a stab to the heart the way Pam had used “want” in the past tense as if she had already given up.

“I thought there was an obvious direction we were headed,” Pam continued. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You don’t hafta be, Red, it-”

“Harley, if you don’t know if you want to date me, then I don’t want to date you,” Pam sighed with finality. Harley’s mouth snapped shut as she felt her bottom lip quiver.

“I’ll see you at our next game.”

Harley took that as her cue and hopped out of the truck, watching Pam turn out of the driveway and rumble down the street into the night.

Chapter Text

Pam sat in her living room as evening turned to night, scribbling out her signature at the bottom of invitation after invitation as she struck name after name off of the roster. Taking in a deep sigh, she buried her face in her hands, allowing her cramping wrist a break.

After she’d dropped Harley off at her house, she’d floored it home as fast as she could, tears blurring her vision but too stubborn to fall. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and stifled any hitches in her breath. She was not going to cry over some girl she hadn’t even been dating. Remembered the look Harley had on her face when she saw Pam and Arthur together, she rolled her truck’s window down and spit out a mouthful of blood before gassing it the rest of the way home.

And then she’d thrown herself into work. She’d finished all of her homework for the weekend, crushed twice her usual workout in the upstairs gym, and finally sat at her living room table preparing invitations for her massive, outdated coming out ball. As she crossed out the final name from her roster and saw the small stack of blank invitations she had left over, she stuck the tip of her pen between her lips and chewed it mindlessly.

I wonder…

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next game between the Ivies and Diamonds came only a week later, still part of the unofficial tournament prior to the official season’s start. But as Harley rolled her head side to side in the dugout as the Ivies filed onto the field and she spotted Pam, the stakes felt as high as ever. The redhead intentionally kept her gaze straight ahead, refusing to glance over to Harley’s direction. But the first inning had Harley catching, and Pam pitching, so the prideful pitcher was going to have to get over herself and acknowledge the blonde’s existence sooner or later.

Harley had tried texting Pam all week. Messages ranged from pitiful pleas to lame updates about her day to a video of a turtle humping a croc shoe, but Pam had replied to none of them. It wasn’t like Harley didn’t understand, she did, but it still made her want to bash Pam in the face with a softball bat. Or her lips. She’d settle for either, so long as it got Pam’s attention. When she’d brought the issue up to Selina, her ex-coach couldn’t even be angry with Pam, telling Harley she’d really brought it upon herself. Which Harley knew was true, but damn it, whose side was Kitty on, anyway?

Harley settled into her catcher’s squat behind home base. Tatsu was batting, her “C” patch already ironed proudly on the right breast of her jersey, a glaring reminder that everything was crumbling around Harley. The catcher hadn’t quite gotten around to attaching hers, yet — she’d been too busy doing damage control that week with Pam and avoiding Arthur for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate. The blonde swallowed, the reminder doing nothing to assuage the swelling of anxiety in her chest, as Tatsu dug her cleats into the clay and wiggled her hips in preparation. Harley shifted her gaze to Pam, who sat on the pitcher’s mound, and though the redhead refused to make eye contact, Harley could see a raging fire behind those almond green eyes.

Oh, shit.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

One might’ve assumed that the shared practices and intermixing of teams from two weeks of training on the same field might have created a sort of familiar, or even friendly, camaraderie between the two softball teams.

One would be wrong.

The Ivies obliterated the Diamonds that evening, grinding them into their own field, and walked away victorious yet again. The Diamonds, for their part, were far less vicious and prideful following the loss than usual, and a few even ran up to the green and gold-clad players to give them a handshake or a hug before parting ways. Harley took this as her opportunity and jogged after the rival team as they made their way to their team bus.

Harley couldn’t see Pam initially as she approached the vehicle, so she weaved between the softball players attempting to board and jogged over to the side of the bus facing away from the field. There was nothing on this side of the bus but the empty Arkham gym parking lot, and there Harley finally spotted the redhead. The blonde stayed silent, waiting until she was in arm’s reach of the pitcher, who was struggling to shove the last of the equipment into the luggage compartment under the bus. Finally, after a few minutes of opening and closing her mouth like a fucking mute fish, Harley found her voice and let out the first thing that came to mind.

“Hiya, Cap.”

She realized suddenly — instantly — that she should have followed her teammates into the locker room and left well enough alone. Pam's entire body went rigid, and though she didn’t turn around immediately, Harley could guess exactly what expression painted the taller girl’s features. A few seconds passed before Pam gave the offending bag one last shove, sending it deep into the bowels of the bus before snapping the compartment door shut and rising to her feet. As Pam turned around, Harley learned that her guess had actually been a tad off — the wolfish glare on Pam’s face was way worse than any she could have fabricated in her mind.

So imagine Harley’s surprise when Pam’s voice oozed from her mouth like sickly sweet honey.

“Harleen,” Pam purred, eyes flickering dangerously. “How are you?”

“Uh… I’m cool, Pam, I’m a’right,” Harley stammered, taking a tentative, solitary step forward as Pam leaned back against the bus, glare dissipating somewhat into a predatory scowl. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine,” Pam shrugged. “I’m doing just great. Is there something you came over to tell me?”

Harley swallowed. This was a trap, she knew it. There was one right thing to say, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Was it sorry? Well, Harley was never good at apologies, but that seemed like as good a choice as any. Here went nothing.

“Listen, Pam, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know how to talk to you or Arthur. But listen, if it’s any consolation, he isn’t speakin’ to me either. I was just hopin’ I might get my friend back. I miss ya.”

Okay, Harley wasn’t exactly sure what had been precisely the wrong thing to say, but apparently she’d managed to say it. Perhaps it had been the mention of Arthur, but if she had to wager, she would bet it was by sorting Pam into the friend zone. Harley saw the young woman bristling before her and swallowed.

“Sorry, uh… maybe, should I go? I should go. I’ll just-”

Pam gripped Harley’s shoulders and shoved the smaller girl against the side of the bus, bringing her face dangerously close and pushing Harley’s arms against the cold metal, breath ragged and short.

“You wanna be friends, Harley?” Pam panted, drawing closer until her thighs were touching the smaller girls. Harley felt her breath catch. She wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, opting for a small shrug instead of opening her mouth. She wasn’t entirely positive she could get any sound out, anyway.

“You wanna be my friend,” Pam repeated, suddenly sliding her thigh between Harley’s. Harley’s breath hitched, eyes closing and head thudding back against the metal.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” Pam ordered, and Harley did as she was told. Pam was glaring — Harley knew nothing good was going to come of this, but Pam was sliding her thigh up and down the apex of Harley's thighs and the blonde’s hips were starting to rock and follow the movements. She was glad the bus was tall enough that nobody could see them by looking out the window, and grateful for the sun’s early set in the late February evening, but her heart still raced at the prospect of being found. Was she scared or horny? Both?

Both, she realized, as Pam bit down on her earlobe so hard she was pretty sure the skin broke. Pam pulled back quickly, and a tiny smear of blood glistened on her bottom lip. The image hit Harley right in her center as her heartrate picked up.

“Keep looking at me,” Pam purred, continuing to shift her thigh against Harley. Her fingers dug into Harley’s biceps, surely hard enough that purple bruises would be in their place the next morning. Harley’s hips continued to buck on their own accord, but she felt her chest filling with dread, never feeling so much like prey gazing into the eyes of a predator.

“We’re not friends, Harleen,” Pam declared. “We’re never going to be friends. I hate you, do you understand?”

Pam paused, and Harley understood this was not rhetorical. And goddamn her, as she nodded in understanding, she couldn’t even stop her motherfucking hips, it was as if they had a mind of their own. Pam noticed this with a small smirk, which looked a lot like an intrusion in this moment of rage-induced lust, and Harley was helpless as the taller girl’s slender fingers began to unbuckle her uniform belt.

“Look at you,” Pam scolded, undoing the belt and clamoring for the button of her slacks. “Fucking pitiful. You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Harley bit down on her lip and shook her head, lifting her hips as Pam unzipped her fly. Without pulling down any clothing, Pam plunged her hand down the front of Harley’s pants, finding the girls’ clit through her panties. Harley hissed and hit her head against the bus painfully.

“Look at me.”

Shit, she forgot. Opening her eyes and finding Pam’s, Harley’s heart sank when she recognized the undeniable look of disgust burning behind them. She couldn’t dwell on this for too long, however, as Pam was pushing Harley’s panties to the side and sliding her fingers through slick folds, bunching the offending fabric to the side. Harley couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled from her lips, and Pam clamped a hand over the shorter girl’s mouth.

“Keep your mouth shut,” the redhead hissed. “Do you like it when I touch you where anyone can see? Do you like it when I’ve got my hand pressed against your pussy when anyone can walk around the corner of the bus and see us?”

Harley nodded, center throbbing as Pam circled her clit, wetting her fingers before sliding one just past her entrance. Harley moaned, the sound muffled in Pam’s hand.

“Keep looking at me, Harleen. I’ve got something important to say.”

Harley nodded as Pam inserted a second finger and slowly began to pulse in and out of her pussy, curling her fingers as she withdrew and adding a thumb to Harley's clit, offering feather-light circles. She was wasting no time — she wanted Harley to come fast.

“I sent an invitation for my birthday party to your house,” Pam continued. “You’ll be there. I invited Arthur as well, you’ll come with him. I don’t care if he isn’t speaking to you, you’ll get him to speak to you. You’ll get him to want you, to need you, but you won’t fuck him no matter how horny he gets.”

Pam was picking up her pace, and Harley was beginning to close around her slender fingers. The redhead withdrew her thumb, not wanting Harley to unravel just yet.

“You’re going to come to the party with Arthur, and you’re going to see me in my dress, and you’re going to get all hot and bothered for me, do you understand?” Pam ordered. “You’re going to get so wet just looking at me, and then you’re going to tell Arthur to go home alone because you’re going to stay behind and fuck me. And then that’s exactly what you’re going to do, baby. You’re going to take me upstairs to my bedroom with my parents and friends and family downstairs and you’re going to fuck me until I scream. And then you’re going to go home. And you’re never going to speak to me again. Do you understand?”

Harley nodded — she was pretty sure she’d agree to anything just about now — and clenched around Pam’s fingers, feeling herself beginning to unravel. And oh, god, Pam couldn’t help herself. She had intended to leave Harley all hot and bothered, but it was all beginning to be too much for her. Without dwelling on the idea any longer, she surged forward and sealed her lips to Harley’s, curling her fingers hard as her thumb pressed against Harley’s clit again, and the blonde came hard onto her fingers, biting onto Pam’s uniform-clad shoulder to keep from alerting the entire bus of their activity. Pam even helped Harley ride out her orgasm, which she chastised herself for, slipping her fingers gently in and out of the catcher as she found her lips again and offered a deceptively tender kiss. Harley returned it, pleasantly surprised by the softness of Pam’s intentions, but the second the shorter girl was snaking her arms around broad shoulders, Pam was drawing back.

“March second,” she said with a curt nod, wiping her hand on her thigh. “Be there.”

And with that, Pam turned on her heel and rounded the bus, boarding it and leaving Harley all alone — panting, wet, confused, and very, very hurt.

So much for a special first time.

Chapter Text

The tears were sliding down Pam’s cheeks before she collapsed into the empty seat at the front of the bus. She was silent, letting them flow freely as she looked down in her lap and tried to stop her hands from shaking.

As the bus started up and began to roll out of the parking lot, Pam felt a weight plop down beside her and she squinted her eyes shut.

“Please, not right now,” the redhead mumbled with such composure that if it hadn’t been for her tear-stained cheeks, an onlooker might have never known she’d been crying.

“Pammy,” Selina whispered, softer than Pam had ever heard her. The redhead opened her eyes tentatively, looking to her right and finding herself taken aback by the gentleness she found in her coach’s expression.

“What’s going on, Isley?” Selina asked, gently tapping the number three on the shoulder of Pam’s jersey. “I thought you had your tear ducts removed when you were seven or something.”

Pam laughed sharply through her tears, sniffing and dragging her palm across her cheek.

“I think I just fucked up,” Pam sighed. “Maybe really badly? But I’m just so… angry. And tired of being treated as an afterthought. I get it from my parents, and now Harley…”

Selina straightened up a little at the mention of Harley but her gaze didn’t harden and her mouth stayed shut, so Pam continued.

“Harley told me she doesn’t want to be with me. And she was seeing Arthur and I at the same time, and when he and I found out, she was actively trying to pursue and consolidate both of us at the same time, because she’s just so afraid of being alone and she doesn’t care who’s with her as long as it’s… it’s someone. And when we talked about it afterward, she told me she didn’t want to be with me and…”

Pam swallowed, fighting the catches in her voice, and she felt like she had swallowed an entire jar of cotton balls. Selina, for her part, leaned over and wrapped Pam up in her arms, hands cradling her head as she stroked red hair. The latter was so startled by the out-of-character display that for a moment the tears halted.

“Pammy, you don’t always have to be the strong one,” Selina finally murmured. “You’re allowed to hurt.”

And she held Pam all the way back to Gotham Prep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley lay in her bed, staring up at her ceiling fan as she tried to follow a single blade at a time with her eyes. Her stomach churned.

On the one hand, what happened had been… hot, to say the least. And she’d enjoyed it, in a ridiculous sort of way. And Pam’s fingers were skilled and quick, and the prospect of being caught was… sexy. But the words Pam had shot at her were venomous and painful.

She hated her, that’s what she said.

Harley knew she fucked up. But had it really been that bad? She hadn’t really seen Arthur at all that week, having actively avoided him, but she couldn’t imagine him reacting the way Pam had. Then again, she hadn’t been stringing Arthur along — he knew the outlines of their relationship, and if anything, he was the one trying to keep things loose and no strings. But Harley knew how much Pam liked her, and yet she’d still kept the charade up with Arthur, afraid of losing one of them and hoping to have another to fall back on should worse come to worst. Which, with Harley, it always did. All because she was so afraid of being alone. God, she really had fucked up, hadn’t she?

Picking up her phone from her bedside table, she scrolled through her contacts until she found what she was looking for and tapped the caller ID, holding the device up to her ear and waiting three rings before the line picked up.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Arthur said flatly from the other end.

“Wait, don’t hang up!” Harley urged. “Look, this’ll just take a second. I need to tell you something.”

There was s silence on the other end, but he didn’t hang up, so Harley took that as her cue to continue.

“Pam is pissed.”

“I’m pissed, too, Harley.”

“Yeah, no, I… I know. I’m sorry. Arthur, I’m so sorry. But Pam is… I dunno, fuckin’ vindictive. She’s mad at me and she wants to hurt you. She sent you an invitation to her party this coming Saturday. You can’t go, okay? She wants to get back at you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Arthur growled. “And you know what? I probably would’ve just ignored that invitation, but now that you brought it up, maybe I will go to that stupid party.”

The line clicked, and Harley groaned, tossing her phone to the foot of her bed and collapsing back against her pillow.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The week passed in a fog but the party felt like it had come out of nowhere. Harley had received the invitation Pam had put her wise to, and the raised cursive letters had called for formal dress. The morning of, Harley realized in a frenzy that there wasn’t a dress in her closet that went past her fingertips, and after a quick check-in with Sharon, it was looking more and more like a frantic goodwill trip was in order. She’d just have to pray there was a nice enough dress waiting for her. As Harley was grabbing her keys and heading for the door, however, a hand closed around her wrist.

“Wait,” Barry said, his eyes twinkling. “Remember that suit mom bought for me right before I hit my growth spurt? The one I only wore once to Aunt Patty’s wedding?”

And that was how Harley ended up in a three-piece suit outside of the door of Pam’s house.

She’d showed up late, not to be classy, but because she couldn’t stop fretting over her appearance. And, since she’d kept her falling out with Pam a secret, Sharon thought this was a date and spent entirely too much time hovering over Harley, helping her with her makeup and talking Harley out of putting her hair up in “those monstrous pigtails,” instead using hairspray and bobby-pins to pin down a sleek ponytail. Which was now tousled anyway, as Harley had no other mode of transportation than her motorcycle.

Swallowing, Harley straightened her cuffs and adjusted her tie, pressing the doorbell and praying that Pam wouldn’t be the one to answer. She felt relief wash over her as Frank opened the door and smiled politely upon seeing her.

“Good to see you again, Miss Quinzel,” he smiled. “May I take your coat?”

Harley’s hand fisted at the button of her blazer, deciding to keep it on for now, and shook her head.

“I’m good, Frank. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Frank stepped aside and allowed Harley to enter, and she realized just how late she really was. Walking into the foyer, all she saw, from wall to wall, was a sea of snotty, up-turned noses, suits, gowns to the floor, and champagne everywhere.

“Jesus, is this the Met?” she mumbled under her breath, and Frank snorted beside her.

“It looks like it, doesn’t it? Miss Isley is upstairs still, if-”

“Thanks, Frank!” Harley interrupted. “Hey, how ‘bout a glass’a champagne?”

Frank quirked a brow, but sighed and tossed his head towards the kitchen.

“There are some trays on the kitchen counter, go ahead. Please don’t get too wasted, I don’t feel like peeling anyone off of the floor tonight.”

Harley smiled, grateful for Frank’s presence more than anything right now, as she scurried into the kitchen in pursuit of the champagne. As she stepped into the room, dodging between suits and gowns (she even recognized a few of the Ivies, dressed in gowns and jewels that could probably pay for Harley’s entire college tuition), she was momentarily relieved to find the kitchen was all but deserted, save for one figure hunched in the corner.

Arthur.

Harley sighed, alerting him of her presence as she stepped into the room. He looked up from the drink he was making and caught her eyes, immediately stiffening as he took a pocket knife out and carved a spiral of rind from the orange he held.

“You came,” Harley noted obviously. He nodded.

“Yeah, I don't like being told what to do.”

Harley exhaled sharply, a lame attempt at a laugh, as she approached him. He extended the orange towards her with a shrug.

“Want an Old Fashioned?”

She was about to protest, but he had everything out already and for what she was about to attempt, she could use a little liquid luck. So she shrugged and shoved a hand deep in her pocket.

“Fuck it, why not?”

Arthur began to mix the whiskey and bitters as Harley leveled up beside him and placed her newly manicured hands on the counter. He noticed them with a quirk of his brow as he stirred the drink.

“All gussied up for Pam’s party, huh?”

Harley blushed a little at that, out of guilt more than anything.

“I knew there were gonna be some rich people here and I didn’t wanna embarrass myself or get kicked out.”

Arthur nodded as he carved the orange peel and burnt the edge of the spiral before setting it against the rim of the glass and handing it to her. Harley took it and sipped gratefully.

“Well, you’re rocking the suit better than me right now,” he chuckled. “Pam sees you in that, she’ll drag you right upstairs.”

Harley’s stomach dropped, remembering her last interaction with Pam and the promise she’d hazily agreed to in the heat of the moment. She swallowed.

“Listen, Arthur, I wasn’t kiddin’ on the phone. Pam’s pissed. I don’t… even exactly know what I’m doin’ I’m here, but you probably shouldn’t be here when she comes down. She’s in a really bad place, I think I really fucked her up.” Then sighing, she forced herself to look into Arthur’s eyes. “And I think I owe you a pretty big apology, too. You really got the short end of the stick in all this.”

Arthur sighed, tossing his drink back and settling the empty glass on the counter. He turned his body towards Harley then and leaned against his hip on the counter.

“We’re through, right?”

Harley nodded softly, having the dignity to look culpable. Arthur sighed like he was disappointed but anything but surprised.

“Then you gotta make things right with that girl,” he instructed. “Suck her dick or kiss her ass or whatever you need to do, tell her you’re sorry and then treat her right. And Harley? Don’t try to carry two people at once, it doesn’t matter how blurred the lines are. People are jealous and feelings get hurt. You dig?”

Harley dug. She surged forward and flung her arms around Arthur’s neck, squeezing him close and sighing as he tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. She turned her head to the side and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek before pulling away and smiling, fighting down the solitary tear pricking at the corner of her eye.

“You really are rockin’ the suit,” he smiled with a gentle punch to Harley’s shoulder. She snickered and knocked him back before smoothing out his lapels.

“I should go,” she murmured as the buzz and chatter began to rise in the other room. He nodded, gesturing to the drinks.

“I’m gonna make a couple more and Uber home. It was nice to finally talk to you, Harls.”

Harley nodded with a small smile, shooting a genuine wink his way before scrambling out of the kitchen and reentering the foyer, searching for any familiar face. After a quick scan, she spotted Diana Prince, catcher for the Ivies and perhaps the only person besides Selina Harley had ever seen Pam tolerate. Squeezing between the rich dicks practically shooting bubbly straight into their bloodstream, Harley sidled up to the tall girl and prayed for recognition.

“Hey, Diana?” Harley asked tentatively. Diana had to look down a pretty far distance to find Harley’s eyes, but when they landed on the other catcher, they glistened with excitement.

“Harleen!” she cried, wrapping Harley in a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! You must be here for Pamela, right? She’s coming down in just a second.”

Harley nodded, finding herself momentarily blindsided by the archaicness of the setting she found herself in.

“Isn’t this kinda weird and male-gazey, doing this big comin’ out ball just so everyone can stand around and drink and look at her?” Harley asked, taking another sip from the Old Fashioned still in her hand. Diana cocked her head to the side, opening her mouth to answer, but her eyes flickered towards the staircase and she smiled.

“Here she comes.”

Harley felt her heart leap into her throat as she turned towards the staircase just as Pam appeared on the landing, the entire room turning to take in the young woman. A satin navy blue gown plunged just low enough to offer a picture of Pam’s adequate cleavage, cinching tight at the waist and hugging her hips so deliciously. Harley felt her mouth go dry despite herself and she set her glass on a nearby tray, afraid she might drop it if she didn’t get it out of her hand soon.

Grace Isley approached from behind, hand finding the small of Pam’s back as she smiled beside her daughter and gazed down at the buzzing crowd.

“Everyone,” the Isley matriarch spoke, “thank you so much for coming to share this special day with us. May I present my daughter, Pamela Isley, heir to the Isley fortune.”

Polite applause scattered about as Pam descended the staircase, smiling courteously but gaze scanning the crowd with purpose. She had almost reached the landing when her eyes fell to their intended target, and Harley squirmed beneath the taller woman’s regard.

To the untrained eye, there was nothing dangerous or deceptive in the way Pamela approached Diana and Harley, a perfectly civil smile gracing red lips as she leaned into the tall brunette to kiss her on both cheeks. But Harley knew better and saw the danger flickering behind Pam’s leer. As Pam thanked Diana and dismissed her, she turned the smaller girl and raked her eyes up and down Harley’s form before offering a smooth smile.

“Harleen.”

Harley was melting, but she did her best to maintain composure. She tried to smile back, but her body was responding to the attention she was receiving from Pam on its own accord. Shifting back and forth from toe to toe, she cleared her throat.

“You look beautiful, Pamela.”

Pam smirked, tossing cascading curls over her shoulder.

“I know, darling.”

Harley felt her heartbeat drop below her stomach as she squirmed. Pam noticed.

“Darling, you look a little hot. Would you like to put your jacket in my room?”

Before Harley could protest, Pam’s slender fingers were wrapping firmly around her wrist and tugging her towards the staircase, and Harley found herself powerless to resist. It was intoxicating — the sway of Pam’s hips, the scent of her four hundred dollar perfume, the grasp she had on the smaller girl — Harley didn’t think anyone could have resisted, were they in her shoes. Still, stumbling up the stairs like a lazy drunk after the sexiest woman in the entire room was not Harley’s proudest moment.

As they rounded the corner of the hallway, Harley heard Grace Isley calling up at the pair of them from downstairs, but Pam quickly flung Harley into the room and slammed it shut behind her. No sooner had the door closed and locked was Pam rounding on Harley expectantly.

“Take your jacket off,” she demanded through clenched teeth, muscle in her jaw twitching hazardously. Harley swallowed but felt some decorum returning to her as she straightened up and unbuttoned her blazer, eyes bravely unwavering under Pam’s pointed gaze. She gently folded up the jacket and set it on the arm of a nearby chair before finding Pam’s eyes again.

“Pamela-”

“Don’t talk, Harleen,” Pam ordered. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“But Pam-”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Pam ordered, hands coming to find the zipper behind her and sliding it down until the fabric sagged against her skin and the straps slid off of her shoulders. The fabric continued to tumble until it was hung up precariously at the redhead’s hips, leaving her torso exposed save for a lacy bra that matched the shade of the dress exactly. Harley forced her eyes not to wander, but kept them fixed on Pam’s face.

“No.”

Green eyes darkened, and Pam tilted her head.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said no, Pam, I’m not going to kiss you,” Harley repeated. “Not unless you want me to.”

Pam laughed bitterly.

“Of course I want you to, I told you to do it.”

“No. You want me to kiss you because you know that when we’re physically intimate, you’re in control. You feel betrayed by me, which you have every right to feel. You’re lashing out at me because you’re confused by the feelings you had, which still linger and are mixing with your contempt and anger, and the only way you feel you can make sense of all this is to channel your frustration sexually. That’s why you want me to kiss you.”

Damn her and her pre-psych major brain.

Pam stood silent, suddenly feeling very exposed and ashamed as she reached for her zipper at the base of her spine. She struggled for a moment and Harley sighed, taking a step towards her.

“Let me do it.”

“Don’t touch me,” Pam growled, trying to draw back. Harley grasped her arm in a firm but gentle hold, stilling Pam and forcing her to look into her eyes.

“Pamela, let me do it.”

Pam relented then, turning with a sigh and giving her back to Harley. The blonde took in a deep, shuddering breath at the tiny victory, trying not to become distracted by the expanse of exposed skin before her. After pausing momentarily to scoop her mind out of the gutter, she reached for the two straps hanging at Pam’s sides and held them up, allowing the taller woman to slide her arms through. Then, Harley zipped up the dress tooth by tooth and smoothed the fabric out, trying her best to remember that Pam didn't belong to her. As she reached up to adjust the straps on Pam’s shoulders, she noticed the gentle shake in them, and it took only a few seconds for her to hear soft sniffling. Without skipping a beat, Harley slid her arms around Pam’s waist from behind and clutched the taller girl to her chest, her chin resting against Pam’s left shoulder as she cried.

“I’m sorry,” the redhead mumbled (rather articulately for someone shedding tears). She leaned back into Harley’s touch, surprising both of them. “I’m so sorry, Harley.”

Harley felt a rush of relief at the discontinuation of ‘Harleen’ and tightened her hold around Pam, nuzzling her nose into perfect red curls.

“No, baby, I’m sorry.”

Pam cried just a little harder at that, her hands finding Harley’s resting against her stomach. Harley sighed, fighting her own urge to cry and reminding herself that it was her turn to be the strong one right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Pamela.”

Pam sniffled, one of her hands reaching up to caress Harley’s cheek before thinking better of it and dropping her arm once more. Harley squeezed tighter.

“Don’t cry, Red, your mascara’s gonna run.”

Pam laughed a little at last, reaching up with her hands to wipe the tears away from her cheeks before turning around in Harley’s arms and returning her embrace, tears slowing as they clutched one another.

“I really am sorry, Harley. I was dreadful. I was-“

“It’s okay, Pam,” Harley assured, pulling away enough to find her gaze. “You were hurtin’. I get it. I’m still nuts aboutcha.”

Pam smiled softly, hand coming up to stroke Harley’s cheek as she searched her eyes. Laughing, she let the last of her jitters out and set her hands on her hips.

“You, uh, you’re looking mighty fine in that suit there, Harls.”

Harley blushed and kicked the floor before looking up through her lashes.

“Nah, it’s nothin’. But you, Pam, you’re…”

Everything.

“You’re ravishing.”

Pam smiled at that and looked ready to say something else when a hurried knock came from the door.

“Pamela Isley!” came a sharp hiss from Grace, sounding like she was hissing each syllable through her teeth. “You come out this instant! This is your birthday celebration!”

“I had a wardrobe malfunction, mother, I’ll be out in a moment!” Pam lied through the door. Grace offered a solitary pound on the door in response before clicking off down the hall. Pam sighed and turned back to Harley, who was fidgeting with the roll of one of her shirt sleeves. Pam chuckled piteously and reached out to help.

“If you’re going for Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet, which it looks like you are, you want an Italian roll, not a casual forearm.”

Harley watched in awe as Pam unrolled each of her sleeves and corrected them, perfectly manicured fingers working seamlessly. When she was done, she looked up to find Harley’s surprised gaze on her.

“What?” Pam mumbled, suddenly hesitant. Harley just shook her head.

“I was goin’ for Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet, how the hell did you know that?”

Pam smiled and took Harley’s hands, blinking away any lingering evidence of tears. If a stranger had wandered into the room at that moment, they would have never been aware of the display of emotion. Stepping closer to the blonde, Pam glanced down.

“Harley?”

Harley didn’t respond, just offered a small nod of encouragement.

“I’d like you to kiss me now.”

And Harley did, softly and slowly and purposefully, until Pam remembered what it felt like to feel cherished.

Chapter Text

Pam had insisted on walking Harley back to her bike, much to Grace’s chagrin (but she was only being courteous to her guests, mother). To Pam’s sheer delight, Harley had parked far enough down the street that they could steal a few hurried kisses against a brick letterbox. As Harley bracketed Pam’s head with her hands and pressed kisses to her cheeks and chin and forehead and lips, wherever they could find purchase, Pam sighed in relief. If it was tiring to harbor a crush on Harley, being cross with her was fucking debilitating.

“I should go,” Pam exhaled after Harley pulled back enough to look in her eyes. The blonde nodded, sure Grace was suspicious already, but not before dipping down slyly to press one last kiss to Pam’s lips.

Pam hummed contentedly, fingers tangling in the soft blonde curls at the nape of Harley’s neck and tugging gently. Harley snickered, pulling away again and sighing.

“For real this time.”

Pam nodded, tracing the apple of her cheek with her thumb as a sudden look of guilt came over her.

“Harls,” she began, biting on her bottom lip. “Arthur didn’t… come tonight, did he?”

At that moment, as if he had been just waiting for his cue, what should fly down the street past them but Arthur’s infamous 2007 Jeep Wrangler, blasting Metallica through the rolled down windows? Harley had just enough time to turn over her shoulder to spot Arthur gesturing lewdly in her direction, his tongue sticking out of his head as he shot her a great big thumbs up from the passenger’s seat, and — was that a girl? In the driver’s seat? Driving his Jeep Wrangler? But just like that, they were gone, as if it was all some sort of fever dream. In fact, it might have been — Harley had to turn to Pam with a quirk in her brow to make sure the redhead had seen it, too.

“So I take it you and he made up,” Pam deduced, pushing off of the mailbox and straightening out. “That’s good.”

“I think he just came for the drinks,” Harley chuckled. “And… yeah. We made up. He was probably the push I needed to stay long enough to see you come down.”

Pam leaned in close and kissed the very tip of Harley’s nose, blushing a little at the potentially premature display but maintaining her elegant conviction nonetheless.

“Then I suppose I owe him.”

Harley stuck a hand in her pocket and clicked her heels together, trying to stall as long as possible. After weeks of not knowing if Pam would ever speak to her again, being apart from the redhead sounded less than ideal. Pam seemed to notice, and she placed her hand on Harley’s forearm before leaning in to give her a proper kiss, this one a bit more heated than the gentle, promising ones from before. Harley, who had taken it slow all night, letting Pam set the pace, let out a sound of surprise. Before she could really reciprocate in her dazed and confused state, Pam pulled away, reaching out with the pad of her thumb to wipe a smudge of lipstick away from the corner of Harley’s mouth.

“You’ll want to wipe the rest off before your mother sees you,” the redhead smirked. Harley just nodded dumbly. Pam nodded her head to the bike.

“If you keep standing here, I won’t go in, and if I don’t go in, my parents will crucify me.”

Harley laughed as she kissed Pam once more before mounting her bike, starting the engine and toeing the kickstand. She glanced at the redhead one last time as if waiting for permission to embark. Pam didn’t offer it right away, suddenly stepping towards the bike and placing a hand on Harley slack-clad thigh. The blonde looked down, buzzing beneath her pants as she remembered how Pam’s fingers had felt along her skin when there hadn’t been such a barrier. A deep blush set into her cheeks as she looked back up.

“Would you let me take you out?” Pam whispered softly, heart inexplicably racing. Harley loosened.

“You wanna take me out, Red?”

Pam nodded, fingers contracting gently on Harley’s thigh. The blonde had to fight the urge to lift Pam onto her bike and ravish her right there.

“Well, I was thinking a real sit-down type of date this weekend. But I want to see you sooner. We can do anything. But I want to spend time with you. Make up for what… happened.”

Harley straightened up on her bike, realizing for the first time the extent of Pam’s guilt. All feelings of lust quickly left her as she reached up to cup Pam’s face and brushed her thumb along a lightly freckled cheek.

“Pam,” Harley soothed, voice gentle but firm. “What happened after the game last week wasn’t ideal. But I didn’t ask you to stop. I didn’t want you to stop. Maybe it was fucked, but I wanted to be with you. Don’t keep blaming yourself for that, a’right? If I asked you to stop, you woulda. I know you woulda.”

Pam nodded. That was true. Still, it was good to hear it from Harley.

“So no making up for anything, a’right?” Harley concluded, demeanor brightening. “We’re gonna have a good time because we enjoy each other.”

Pam nodded, pinching Harley’s leg gently.

“I”ll pick you up from practice at Arkham on Monday?” Pam verified.

“Yeah! Should I wear somethin’ nice?”

Pam chuckled.

“Just wear yourself. I’ll see you soon, darling.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Monday after the party was excruciating for Pam to endure, to say the very least. The redhead excelled at Gotham Prep — she was hungry to learn, eager to please, and capable of charming the hell out of any teacher she encountered. She was nearly always enamored with her classes, or if she wasn’t, she could quietly work on homework as she waited for the teacher to catch the rest of the class up to her speed. But today was different.

Harley had been blowing up her phone all that Sunday, mostly with long-winded strands of emojis and random pictures of dogs. She even tried sending that stupid video of a turtle humping a croc shoe that Pam had definitely seen the first time when she was giving the cold shoulder. The thing was, Pam typically would have found such juvenile behavior annoying, but she couldn’t help herself from giggling like an absolute child every time her screen lit up with a text from the blonde. It was stupid. She was stupid. She was so, so, so very stupid with infatuation. And she fucking loved it.

At her own practice that evening, Pam was distracted by the prospect of their date and seeing Harley again. Rather than hinder her, however, she discovered a sudden surge in performance, tackling every pitching drill and conditioning exercise. As she maxed out at 70 pushups and collapsed on her side, feeling she’d earned the rest, Selina came over and crouched beside her, scribbling the number onto her clipboard.

“Harley finally told me the details about that night you were crying on the bus,” the brunette clipped, her tone chilly. But she softened as she reached out and jabbed Pam’s shoulder. “She also told me about the party on Saturday. Fuck, Red, I tell you what, you’re on one rollercoaster of a fuckin’ ride right now. Are you sure you got what it takes to handle Harley?”

A huge grin broke across Pam’s face as she rolled onto her stomach to finish strong with another 50.

“Who said I ever thought I could?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

If Harley was feeling as nervous as Pam was, the redhead thought as the blonde literally skipped into the parking lot towards Pam’s truck, she wasn’t showing it. She had heeded Pam’s advice, donning booty shorts, a worn New York Yankees baseball tee tied off at her ribcage, and… were those Adidas heels?

Just as Pam was preparing to make a well-mannered crack at the ridiculous outfit, Harley was opening the driver’s door, fisting the collar of Pam’s Gotham Prep uniform button-up, and tugging her out of the car, hands steadying on the redhead’s hips for just a moment before backing her against the truck and kissing her.

Pam immediately felt heat rushing between her thighs as Harley’s tongue traced along her lower lip, scolding herself for letting this happen yet again. As soon as she was trapped between a massive object and Harleen Quinzel, there was no really way she was getting out of it aside from Harley’s mercy. And from the way Harley was beginning to nibble on Pam’s lower lip, mercy seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

“Mmm… Harley,” Pam purred, fingers taking in as much yellow hair as she could find purchase. “I missed you, too.”

“Betcha I missed you more,” Harley baited, one hand sneaking around to slip in the back pocket of Pam’s jeans. Pam just shook her head, opening her mouth treacherously slowly to accept the errant tip of Harley’s pink tongue. Harley grumbled in annoyance.

“Patience, my dear,” Pam prompted. Harley scoffed at that, using her thumbs at the corner’s of Pam’s jaw to push her head back and get to work on the column of tear redhead’s throat. Pam’s mouth opened wide then. Her hand scrambled along the side of the truck, looking for something to balance her.

"You talk too much, Red,” Harley deduced, tongue tracing a taught collar. In her ridiculous shoes, she was experiencing for the first time how it felt to be taller than the redhead, and she had to say, she was besotted with the sensation.

“And you, Harley, don’t talk nearly enough,” Pam retorted, both hands slithering sneakily around to grip Harley's ass. “I think you’ll find communication to be quite sexy.”

Harley looked up at that, swallowing as her eyes found dark green.

“But,” Pam shrugged. “We do have a date to get to. What do you say we continue this later?”

Harley whined as Pam didn't wait for an answer, hands returning to her sides as she removed Harley’s own from her back pocket. With a bemused smirk, Pam tossed her head to the truck.

“Come on, the sun’s only just set. We’re gonna miss prime time!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The truck rumbled to a stop outside of a house about a ten minute’s drive from where Pam lived, and though it was slightly smaller, the building was just as elegant. While there were certainly neighbors around, long gone was the suburbia of Upper-east Gotham. Pam pulled right into the driveway, and Harley’s open mouth indicated that questions were arising.

“It’s my dad’s parents' house,” Pam explained, getting her seatbelt and grabbing her bag from where it sat at Harley’s feet. “They live in Greece most of the time, and I have a key, so I can basically come and go whenever I want.”

Harley tried not to let her mind run too far with the prospect of Pam and her alone in an entire house — a house that probably cost twenty times Harley’s — and grabbed her own things. Pam turned on the lights as they settled their things in the foyer, and she turned to kiss Harley softly with an impulse she couldn’t trace. Harley seemed all too happy to reciprocate, but Pam didn’t let it heat up like the blonde wanted it to. Instead, she pulled away, tracing her thumb along the ridge of Harley’s swollen bottom lip, and smiled.

“Follow me.”

Pam took Harley’s hand, a soft display that triggered a warm feeling in Harley’s chest, as she led them all the way to the back of the house and into the backyard.

It was hard to see because all of the lights had been turned out and the early March evening was already dark. The air was surprisingly warm for the time of year, which Harley welcomed in her exposing attire. Still, as Pam led her into the backyard, Harley could make out a tall pergola with large spacing between the overhanging beams.

“Is’at where the date is?” Harley asked. Pam snickered a little at Harley’s eloquence and nodded, and as they got closer Harley could see a large pad of blankets and pillows. She brightened.

“Are we lookin’ at stars??”

Pam smiled and nodded again, dropping quickly to the makeshift bed and helping Harley down, who quickly toed off her ridiculous boots, pushed Pam onto her back, and snuggled against her chest. Pam was momentarily thrown off by the insinuation of being shoved onto her back, then experienced a case of whiplash from the display of gentle affection as Harley nuzzled her collarbone with her nose.

“Harley, this whole date is about stargazing, that was the point,” the redhead sighed. Harley snuggled against her.

“The stars aren’t goin’ anywhere, Red, I wanna feel ya.”

Pam’s heart leaped into her throat again, and she scolded herself for her one-track mind. Harley was being sweet. Pam should feel so lucky that the other girl even wanted to see her again. But then, the blonde was probably thinking the same thing. Pam swallowed.

“Hey, Harley, I don’t think I ever told you, but… I forgive you. For what happened with Arthur. I know it was… a lot.”

Harley propped her chin on her hands, which she lay on the flat of Pam’s chest. Her gaze softened and an oblivious smile graced her features.

“Sure, Red, I know.”

Pam smiled, cupping Harley’s face and drawing her in to capture her lips, sighing lithely. Harley’s upper body draped languidly over hers. Pam’s arms snaked around the shorter girl’s waist, crushing their bodies impossibly close, and she whimpered when Harley’s palm accidentally grazed the curve of her breast. Harley smiled despite herself, feeling a swell of pride.

“Y’a’right, there, Red?”

“Cocky little shit,” the blonde swore she heard Pam mumble under her breath. Then, louder, “come back here.”

Harley leaned in, letting her legs tangle with Pam’s as she claimed plump lips once more, resisting the urge to close her teeth around pink flesh. This wasn’t the point of the date, much as the blonde had been craving Pam since… well, since she’d met her.

“Harley, if you keep going like this...” Pam husked shakily as Harley’s thumb found a sharp hipbone and stroked it thoughtlessly. Harley propped herself up on an elbow.

“It’s your call, Pammy, tell me what you want.”

Pam understood there was a choice to make here, and that what she said next would set the tone of the evening. They could cuddle, warming in each other’s embrace and pointing out images in the stars and basking in one another. That was healing, sure. Or, Pam could try again at what she’d royally fucked up the first time. Also healing. In the end, the heartbeat in the apex of her thighs won out.

“The stars aren’t going anywhere, are they?” the redhead repeated. Harley smiled.

Chapter Text

Pam suddenly felt as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of cotton as she straightened up into a seated position, Harley following. Harley’s crystal blue eyes gazed into hers, clear and bright and curious, and Pam found herself swooning just a little.

She was so goddamn beautiful.

“Harley,” Pam mumbled. “Would it be alright if… could we…”

Harley blushed but smiled bravely, gingerly cupping Pam’s face as she gently slid into the other woman’s lap and straddled her hips.

“You want me, Red?”

Pam nodded, struck dumb for the first time in her life. Harley tucked a strand of fiery red hair behind Pam’s ear.

“I’m all yours.”

Pam surged forward, attaching her lips to Harley’s in a slow but meaningful kiss, trying not to leap into anything too hurriedly. Pam couldn’t take back their first time, rushed and angry and pressed up against a school bus of all places, but she would spend as long as Harley would allow making up for it. So she waited, letting Harley choose the pace, her steely resolve hardening as Harley squirmed faintly on top of her.

Pam’s palm found the base of Harley’s spine, bracing the smaller girl as she leaned forward and tipped Harley backward until she was lying down. Harley quirked a brow as Pam settled her hips between Harley’s legs.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Red?”

Pam cocked her head to the side, infinitely confused. Harley shook her head and clicked her tongue.

“I’m not one for keeping perfect score, but as I recall, it’s your turn.”

Pam was about to argue, but Harley was flipping them over before a word could escape her lips, mouth clamping shut.

“You can do me next,” Harley purred. Pam felt the words pool at the bottom of her stomach. “Now, what was it you were tellin’ me about communication and how sexy it is?”

Pam nodded stupidly, her hands smoothing up and down Harley’s arms.

“A’right, then. Talk to me. What do you want me to do?”

Jesus Christ, was this happening? Pam’s head was reeling as she gazed up at Harley, eyes blazing and lips parted in a soft pant. Harley had the most ridiculous, egotistical smirk on her face that Pam just wanted to devour.

“You can start with a kiss,” Pam offered, deciding easing into this was wisest. Harley complied, leaning down and delicately pressing her lips to Pam’s. She pulled away almost instantly and rocked back on her heels. Pam glared.

“What the fuck kind of kiss was that, Harley?”

“You asked for a kiss,” Harley shrugged innocently. “I kissed you.”

Pam pouted. Harley rolled her eyes.

“Look, Pam, I’m trying to help you prove your point, so I’m gonna need you to get a little more specific. In the name of science, of course.”

Pam snorted. Unbelievable. But fine, she could play Harley’s game.

“I want you to kiss me hard,” Pam specified. “Long and hot and wet and open-mouthed, please.”

Harley smirked and obliged, kissing Pam hard and long and hot and wet and open-mouthed until Pam was tugging on her back and seeking friction. Harley did not oblige, remaining stiff as a board as Pam grabbed and squirmed. Finally, the redhead settled back in a huff, pulling her lips away from Harley.

“Are you really going to do this to me, Quinzel?” she grumbled. Harley bobbed her head up and down.

“If you want something, you gotta use your words.”

Pam hooked one leg over Harley’s hip, taking her by surprise by tugging her in so that their hips were flush. Harley maintained decorum, but Pam could see a flicker of want behind blue eyes.

“I want you to kiss me again, like before,” Pam specified, “and then I want you to wrap your pretty little hand around my throat and slide one of your knees between my thighs.”

Harley did as she was told, relishing in the way Pam’s breath hitched as she took hold of her neck and gently squeezed. By the time her knee had found its new home, Pam was sighing like an Antebellum southern bell. Harley assumed Pam had forgotten their little rule, but waited patiently until the lightbulb went off. Pam sucked in a shaky breath before putting in her next request.

“I want you to unbutton the top three buttons from my shirt,” Pam whispered. “Then unhook my bra, it hooks in the front.”

Harley went off-script for a moment and nipped at the edge of Pam’s jaw before complying, undoing the three opaque buttons straining against Pam’s breasts and exposing the pitcher’s ample cleavage. She only gazed for a minute, realizing this was the first time she would see Pam without any sort of cover around her chest. She lost her suave disposition for a second, glancing at Pam again to make sure it was still alright in the five seconds that had passed. Pam nodded. Harley took in a rattling breath for herself as she reached for the hook and undid the tiny clasp, slowly letting the undergarment fall open.

H- Holy shit.

Harley was suddenly glad Pam had pulled them flush just a moment ago, because she surely would have collapsed at the sight. Looking at the redhead again, she cleared her throat.

“Wh- What do you want now?”

Pam smirked, hands smoothing along Harley’s shoulders.

“I want you to kiss them, of course.”

Harley nodded dumbly, shifting a little as her eyes flickered back to Pam’s chest.

“And, uh, is there anything else?”

She was fishing. Pam knew it. So she threw Harley a bone.

“Bite me, baby.”

Oh, she didn’t need telling twice. Harley descended, lips first attaching to Pam’s sternum, peppering the soft skin in languid but urgent kisses. She moved to the left breast first, tongue swirling around the nipple for what felt like an eternity before she took it in her mouth, sucking for a moment before nipping. Pam’s back arched suddenly.

“Use your fingers on the other one,” Pam instructed. “Your, um, your thumb and your index finger, please.”

Harley continued her ministrations, swirling the tip of her tongue around Pam’s erect nipple, as she reached up with her hand and palmed the other breast, fingers quickly seeking the hardening nub. Pam threw her head back as her mouth fell open, a silent sigh lingering in her throat. Her hips twitched against Harley’s.

“God, Harley, that’s… baby, that’s…”

Pam faded out as Harley switched breasts, teasing a little bit more before reaching where Pam really wanted her. She nuzzled a nipple with her nose before giving it one more kiss, lifting up to look Pam in the face. A very flushed face.

“You want me to just lick your titties all night?” she joked. And, honestly, she could have. But Pam wanted more, a slight dampness Harley could feel between both of their pants and underwear was evidence of that.

“Finish unbuttoning my shirt and kiss your way down my body twice,” Pam responded. Harley chuckled giddily, fingers making quick work of the buttons. As she reached to push it off of Pam’s shoulders, the redhead stopped her.

“Keep it on.”

Harley had to stop herself from snorting. Typical power bottom, keeping their clothes on during sex. Still, she complied, making a point to situate the shirt on Pam’s shoulders firmly before beginning her task. She kissed Pam on the sternum, and Pam’s finger found her chin, forcing her to look up.

“Kiss me first. Gently.”

Harley’s gaze warmed and she complied, kissing Pam's lips gingerly before diving down again, peppering a line from Pam’s sternum to her bellybutton and licking her way back up again at a torturous pace. As she kissed her way back down a third impromptu time, Pam’s fingers fisted in blonde hair and stilled her there.

“Kiss me through my pants.”

Well, Harley was wet now. She continued the descent down until she reached the hemline of Pam’s jeans and pressed a hard kiss through the stiff fabric against Pam's core. Her hips bucked.

“You like foreplay, dontcha, Pammy?” Harley smirked. As Pam was opening her mouth to defend herself, Harley stopped her.

“No, baby, ’s alright. I do, too.”

Pam’s tongue darted out to wet her lips as she nodded in Harley’s direction.

“I suppose you need me to tell you what to do next?”

Harley folded her hands and set them against Pam’s lower belly with a shrug and a nod. Pam sucked in a shaky breath.

“Take my jeans off.”

They were off in seconds.

Harley gazed at Pam, shirt and bra hanging open, lower body clad in nothing but panties, and her stomach clenched. Other parts of her clenched, too, but she couldn’t pay that any mind — this was Pam’s turn. Pam’s legs clenched together, seeking some kind of friction. She studied Harley.

“You don’t have to do anything else, Harley,” she spoke suddenly. “We can stop here if you want. I-”

Harley interrupted her with a kiss, firm and slow and sexy. As her lips fumbled along Pam’s, she allowed herself a gentle grind against Pam, eliciting a gasp from the redhead. After pulling away, poor Pam had to take a second to compose herself.

“I didn’t tell you to do that,” she mumbled. Harley smiled coyly, kissing her again.

“Tell me — what you — want me — to do,” Harley murmured, emphasizing every few words with a kiss. "I want you as bad as you want me."

Pam’s hands found Harley’s shoulders.

“Kiss me through my panties.”

Harley kissed Pam again on the lips, deciding she didn’t need instruction for such innocent actions anymore, before snaking her way down Pam’s lean form and settling herself between Pam’s legs. She gingerly kissed Pam’s mound before pressing her lips to where she knew her clit was. Pam moaned.

“Harley…”

Harley kissed her there again, just as softly, and Pam pushed closer with her hips.

“Harley, could you suck on-”

Harley’s lips were circling a panty-clad clit before the sentence had fully left Pam’s mouth. Pam, for her part, was stricken silent, mouth agape in wonder as her eyes screwed shut and her hands fisted in the blankets and she pushed herself as hard as she could against Harley. The blonde didn’t pull away to speak.

“God, Red, you’re so wet.”

Pam felt the vibrations of Harley's voice in her pussy and nearly cried. She fully almost cried right there, Harley’s mouth lapping at her through her panties. She could only imagine what she was about to feel.

“H- Harley, take them off. Please.”

Harley obliged, hooking her index fingers around the elastic and tugging downward gently. Pam helped, kicking the fabric to the side and leaning back to find Harley’s gaze hardening on her.

The blonde was staring. Her mouth was open and her cheeks were flushed. Pam chuckled nervously, fighting every impulse to cover up or backtrack. Instead, she lightly shoved Harley’s knee.

“You’re staring, Harley.”

Harley shook her head as if to clear it, eyes finding Pam’s. The question went unvoiced. Pam swallowed.

“I want your mouth on my pussy.”

Harley could do that. She settled between Pam’s legs again, gingerly opening them and nearly imploding at the sight that followed. As she lowered herself to Pam’s hips, she glanced back up once more for confirmation. Pam nodded.

Harley slowly leaned in, her lips pressing against Pam’s clit. For a moment, there was no sound or movement from Pam, in fact for long enough that Harley was about to pull away and check in. But then Pam’s groan broke the silence and Harley smiled against her.

“Lick me, Harley.”

Harley did.

“Suck me.”

Oh, Harley did.

“Fingers — god — one at a time.”

Harley’s hand came up to meet Pam’s pussy, the tip of her finger finding the wetness and circling just inside her entrance before pushing gingerly inside of her. Pam’s entire back arched and her throat tensed.

“Jesus fuck. Fuck, Harleen.”

Harley liked being called Harleen when she was fucking Pam. She liked it a lot. She gently pulled out halfway before dipping back in fully, Pam whimpering at the sensation.

“Don’t stop with your mouth. Circle my clit with the tip of your tongue — god, yes, just like that, baby. Another finger.”

Harley complied, adding her second finger as Pam gasped for breath, chest heaving with effort. She pumped efficiently, licking at Pam’s swollen clit as she did so and glancing up past Pam’s clenching abs every once in a while to gaze at the thorough ecstasy painted on the redhead’s face.

“Don’t move your fingers,” Pam instructed suddenly. “I want you to keep them inside me. But sit up.”

Harley was confused, but she did as she was told, sitting up and back on her haunches while keeping her fingers embedded deep within the redhead. Pam looked up at her through hooded eyes.

“Have another finger ready, but don't push inside of me yet,” the redhead continued, chest heaving. Harley swallowed.

“Okay, baby, I want you to stay inside me, okay?” Pam reminded her. Harley nodded frantically and followed Pam’s movements as the redhead shifted and situated herself on her knees, settling each on either side of Harley’s hips. She understood exactly what Pam was doing as the pitcher lowered herself into Harley’s lap, the third finger joining the first two and stretching her out. Pam shuddered as she sat on Harley’s fingers, head lolling back and hands grasping shoulders in a vice-like grip. She wiggled around a little, letting herself become acquainted with the position and reveling in the sensation of having Harley inside of her. The blonde was happy to wait, mouth hanging open as she stared on in awe.

“I want you to curl your fingers inside of me, slowly,” Pam ordered, hips already rocking. Harley did so as Pam ground against her fingers and thighs. She could feel Pam’s wetness through her jeans. After a few seconds, Pam took hold of Harley’s chin and gazed into her eyes, hips still rolling in time with the girl’s fingers.

“A little faster, baby.”

Harley picked the pace up, her free hand wrapping around to grab Pam’s ass. Pam whimpered at the new sensation but kept her gaze on Harley. After a few minutes here, Pam’s forehead fell against Harley’s and her eyes slid shut.

“I want you to pound into me now, baby. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me so hard.”

Harley let out a little yelp of pleasure at that, surprising herself a little. Pam lifted herself up a few inches and her thighs quivered, passing the control back to Harley as the younger girl began to thrust up into her with intensity. Pam’s hips met each thrust with enthusiasm and a breathy gasp, head falling to Harley’s shoulder as she felt herself nearing the edge.

“Harley, you’re gonna… fuck, baby, rub my clit with your thumb.”

She did, thumb rubbing erratic circles as her three fingers slipped seamlessly in and out of Pam’s drenched pussy, curling hard until the edges of Pam’s vision blurred.

“I’m gonna come,” Pam panted. “I’m gonna — fuckin’ hell.”

Pam’s walls clenched around Harley’s fingers as a rush of wetness flowed from her. She moaned, back arching and brows knitting together in concentration as the muscles of her pussy fluttered around Harley’s fingers and she sat down in the blonde’s lap again, rolling her hips as she rode out the orgasm. Even well after the last pulses, she stayed there, head resting against the blonde’s shoulder, breath returning gradually as Harley’s fingers stilled inside her. Harley made a move to retract them, but Pam pushed her ass firmer into her lap to trap them there.

“Stay here just a little,” the redhead almost asked, and Harley couldn’t find it in herself to refuse her. So she steadied herself with her free hand as Pam slumped against her limply. After a moment of this silence, Pam finally chuckled and sat up, finding Harley’s eyes.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Harley cocked her head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“This was an experiment, you said,” Pam reminded her. “So? Is my hypothesis proven? Is communication incredibly sexy?”

Harley laughed, leaning in to claim Pam’s lips. The latter groaned when she tasted herself.

“Incredibly.”

Chapter Text

It didn’t take Pam very long to undo Harley after that, considering how tightly wound the poor girl was already. To Pam’s credit, she was incredibly gentle, stroking Harley with lithe fingers and whispering words of love between soft kisses and tender caresses. She knew what Harley had said about water under the bridge, but she wanted to prove that she could be a gentle lover. As Harley came, she pulled Pam in for a firm, meaningful kiss — the kind that forced one’s brows to knit together in concentration — and Pam knew she’d succeeded.

When it was done they lay tangled together, the cool evening breeze hitting their damp, bare skin and raising the hairs on their bodies. Harley wrapped her arms around Pam from behind, nuzzling her nose into the back of the pitcher’s neck and gifting the occasional kiss there. Pam hummed contentedly each time, and Harley smiled.

“That was really nice,” Pam finally spoke, and Harley just murmured in assent. Her eyes closed lazily as she chewed on her bottom lip and tried to push down the questions that were already starting to bubble in her chest. She hoped that could wait.

But of course, Pam, being ever the over-thinker, couldn’t wait as Harley could.

“Harls,” the redhead mumbled, turning around in Harley’s arms to face her. The blonde’s eyes opened begrudgingly, but her arms circled Pam’s waist again as they settled in the new position. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“Didja already forget?” Harley asked. “Pam, my pussy’s still throbbin’.”

Pam tried not to let that comment derail her too much, though Harley noticed with a smug smirk the way the redhead’s thighs clenched.

“No, I mean what it means going forward,” Pam clarified. “I… really like you, Harley. A lot.”

Harley beamed, wiggling closer to Pam until their noses were nearly touching.

“I really like you too, Red.”

“I say that because I don’t think I could handle another rejection and I think we should clarify what we are going forward before I get too attached to you.”

Harley’s brows furrowed. Usually, this was her schtick, getting attached to a lover and waiting for the inevitable rejection. It was why she couldn’t give up Arthur when she’d started falling for Pam right way — contingencies.

“Well… if you’re worried about losin’ me, Red, don’t. I think you’re the tits. And you’ve got really great tits to boot.”

Pam smiled a little sympathetically, stroking Harley’s cheek.

“I had a great time with you, Harley,” she continued softly. “A really great time. And I’d love to do it again and again. But it’s not just the sex. I think you’re beautiful and intelligent and a very gifted athlete, and you’re funny and you don’t give a fuck what other people think. I like you, and I like how you make me feel when I’m around you. I don’t want to be your friend.”

Harley frowned, and Pam hurried to recover.

“No! No, I do, I just… I don’t just want to be your friend. I want to date you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to be yours.”

Harley blinked, silent for a moment (an uncommon state of being for the catcher) and Pam was suddenly wishing she hadn’t said anything — friends with benefits was fine, and she would have endured it to call Harley hers for just a few minutes out of the day. But then Harley surged forward and sealed Pam’s invitation with a kiss, rolling on top of her and laughing as her smile grew so big they had to pull apart.

“Pammy, for a genius, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. You’re all I’ve thought about since we met.”

“That’s awfully sweet and cheesy, Harley, but I’m going to need a verbal confirmation,” Pam giggled, hands falling to Harley’s hips and offering a gentle squeeze. Harley just snorted before leaning in again and nipping at Pam’s lower lip.

“You’re mine, Isley.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

There was the unfortunate matter of school the next day, and reluctant as they were to part, they had parents to answer to and homework to finish. Pam dropped Harley off back at her house, but the blonde just couldn’t resist pulling her in for a goodnight kiss. This, of course, quickly devolved into a hurried make out session until Harley was in Pam’s lap, chasing her strawberry lips.

“Harls, you have to go,” Pam tried, vainly pushing at Harley’s shoulders. The blonde grunted in protest, hands coming to grasp Pam’s face and pull her closer. Pam relented for a moment, letting the blonde in her lap slip a determined tongue past her lips. For a moment, they were back in the pergola, kissing every inch of each other and shivering against the cool night air. This wasn’t much different, except that Pam’s stuffy truck was at least twenty degrees warmer and their clothes were still on. Of course, from the way Harley was tugging at the hemline of Pam’s shirt, she hadn’t intended for it to stay that way. Pam finally remembered where they were and huffed against Harley’s mouth.

“Baby, you gotta go inside.”

“Oh, but I love it when you call me baby,” Harley giggled, taking Pam’s earlobe between her teeth and biting down. The moan that escaped Pam’s lips betrayed her.

“Harleen.”

“Pamela.”

Well, that wasn’t fair. Harley had never used Pam’s full name, she couldn’t help that all self-control floated out the window. Pam grunted in pleasure as Harley lifted the redhead’s arms above her head and pinned them to the back of the seat, kissing a column down Pam’s throat.

“That’s… nice, Harley.”

Pam’s voice was strained and muddled with lust. Harley noticed this new development with glee as she pulled away to stare Pam straight in her flushed face.

“Pammy… do you have a bondage kink?”

Pam’s cheeks darkened further as she looked anywhere but at Harley, searching for something — anything — to help change the subject, but Harley was ruthless. She tightened her grip on Pam’s wrists and smiled coyly. Pam sucked in a sharp breath.

“Look at me, Pamela.”

Pam swallowed, eyes flitting up to meet blue, and squirmed. Harley grinned wickedly.

“Oh, baby, this is gonna be so much fun when we’ve got the time for it.”

With that, she let Pam’s arms go, maybe a little selfishly as she was hoping the redhead might wrap her arms around Harley’s waist. She did. They fell back into each other, hand roaming and lips fumbling wherever they could find purchase. But Pam knew better. Just as she was beginning to pull away and come up with another reason why they shouldn’t be dry humping in Harley’s street where her neighbors could see, Harley’s ass hit the horn and blared throughout the neighborhood. Both girls jumped (Harley would never admit to the pang of pleasure she felt as Pam’s fingers dug into her biceps) and stilled against each other before laughing.

“Okay, yeah, I should go.”

Pam nodded, offering another needy kiss before smoothing her hand over the curve of Harley’s ass and holding her there momentarily.

“When can I see you again?”

Harley chewed her lip (Pam stared) and looked out the window, pondering the question. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

“A real homework date. At a coffee shop or something. Tomorrow?”

Pam smiled and nodded, kissing Harley again.

“And I have a game to cheer at on Friday, will you come?”

Pam’s eyes darkened and she squeezed Harley’s ass. The blonde’s eyes slid shut as her mouth fell open and she so very subtly rocked against Pam.

“Of course I’ll come, Harley. Miss you in that sexy little uniform? I could never.”

“If you’re good maybe I’ll letcha take it offa me,” Harley purred, her forehead falling against Pam’s. The redhead grinned and kissed her yet again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then, baby.”

Harley finally opened her eyes, gazing back at Pam before swooping in to press the fattest, gayest, most sappiest kiss to the redhead’s well-glossed lips, licking along her bottom lip and savoring the sweet strawberry. Harley was still kissing her when she reached for the door handle, threw it open, and stepped out of the truck, determination unwavering. Pam finally chuckled and gingerly pushed against Harley’s shoulder, pulling away enough to gaze into blue eyes. Harley’s lips were full, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes still hazy with want. Pam decided she was the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

“You’re my girlfriend,” she said plainly, though wonder filled her voice. Harley giggled and stepped off the nerf bar.

“Very profound, Red. You need some sleep.”

Pam just rolled her eyes and started the car before casting a wink in Harley’s direction, shutting the door, and driving off down the road. Harley watched her until she rounded the turn onto her street before bounding up her driveway and the stairs of her porch, flinging open the front door and—

“Harleen-”

“JESUS CHRIST!” Harley gasped, hand flying up to her chest as her mother made herself known from a chair on their porch. Realizing she was in no real danger, she closed the door and leaned against it, letting her breath return in short gasps.

“Ma, holy shit, you gave me a heart attack.”

Sharon chuckled good naturally, leaning back in her chair and taking a long pull from her cigarette (she was going to quit, okay?). She looked out over the well-lit street (shit, Harley hadn’t realized how well lit it was) and took in a long drag. Then, she gestured for Harley to sit. The young Quinzel did, tentatively.

“You looked awful chummy with that young woman down there,” Sharon finally spoke, the smile playing on her lips diminishing any attempt at a stern disposition. Still, Harley shrank in her seat.

“Uh, yeah, you remember Pam.”

Sharon side-glanced at her daughter, giving her best “what am I, stupid?” look that only a mother could perfect so well. Harley mumbled something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, mother dearest,” Harley cooed, pulling her legs onto her chair and folding them under herself. Sharon smirked and looked back out to the street.

“Arthur?”

“Done.”

“And Pam?”

Harley glowed. Sharon smiled and nodded her head.

“That’s good, Harley. That’s real good.”

Harley leaned back in her chair, looking up at the stars and taking in a deep breath.

“You fuck her yet?”

“Ma!”

“It's an honest question, Harleen, she’s hot!” Sharon grumbled. “Hell, if I were twenty years younger-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, ma, please-“

“I just mean, I wanna make sure you’re having safe sex. Are you having safe sex?”

“You just wanna know if I’m having sex.”

“Well, yeah, that too. What if you get her knocked up? I have to be prepared for that!”

Harley chuckled, leaning back in her chair.

“We… might’ve, um… indulged in some extracurricular activities.”

There was silence for a moment, and Harley was suddenly worried she’d perhaps said too much, but when she looked up she found nothing but a smug smirk on Sharon’s face.

“Harleen Quinzel, you sly little shit. You totally got in her pants.”

Harley wasn’t sure whether to feel proud of mortified, but her entire body was flushing. Sharon took the last pull from her cigarette and put it out in an ashtray they kept outside.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Sharon looked over at that. There was a soft smile quirking at the corners of Harley’s lips and she wasn’t really looking at anything. Sharon nodded knowingly.

“Is’at right?”

Harley nodded, finally looking over and twisting her fingers in knots.

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend, ma.”

Sharon would be asked many times in the coming years when it was she knew Harley was in love with Pam, and she always answered the same — it was this moment right here.

Chapter Text

“I just think you’re jumping into things kinda fast, Harls,” Zoe pressed as she threw her sweaty uniform into her duffle and zipped it. Harley scoffed, toweling her hair off from her shower.

“Why's it matter how quickly we start datin'? It’s not like I love her or anything.”

“Yeah, Harls, but, like, 3 weeks ago you were telling me how much you wanted to strangle her.”

Harley smirked.

“I still wanna strangle her, Zoe.”

“God, you’re a fucking horndog,” Zoe shuddered. “I don’t wanna talk about your kinks. I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Harley leaned in and pressed a sloppy kiss to Zoe’s cheek before wiping it away and smacking her playfully.

“She’s my girlfriend, Zoe, not a hitman. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“You got it, cap,” Zoe chuckled. “And sew that fucking patch on your jersey, you look unprofessional.”

“She’s right,” Tatsu piped up, approaching the pair as she tossed a piece of mint gum in her mouth. Zoe smiled and raised her eyebrows at Harley.

“Fuck you both,” Harley shot, but her tone was playful. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” Zoe asked. “Tuesday is Mario Kart night!”

“I gotta date!” Harley replied. “Play Mario Kart with Tatsu.”

Harley jogged out of the locker room, leaving a suddenly dejected best friend behind. The brunette grumbled as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Sorry about that,” Tatsu mumbled awkwardly. “She’s in the honeymoon phase, it’ll pass.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zoe sighed. “Harley’s never been in a labeled relationship as long as I’ve known her, just fuck buddies and the ‘talking’ stage. I have no idea how this is gonna play out.”

Tatsu nodded, looking like she wanted to say something more but didn’t know where to begin, so Zoe swooped in to save her.

“So, uh… Mario Kart?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley was strapping her bag to the back of Betty when she felt her phone buzz in her jacket pocket. Pulling it out and unlocking it, she was surprised to find a long strand of texts from none other than Barry.

you need to come home now.

harley?

harley im not fucking around

this is serious

mom needs you

shit i forgot you had practice, just get here as soon as you can

call me

are you out of practice?

CALL ME

A wave of anxiety came crashing down as Harley jumped onto Betty and dialed Barry, propping the phone against her ear with her shoulder as she started the bike up and began the journey home. He answered on the first ring.

“Harley?”

“Barry, what the fuck is going on?” Harley half-yelled above the rumbling of her bike. “Is mom okay?”

“She’s safe,” Barry replied. “You just… need to get home. Now.”

“Barry, I’m anxious enough, tell me what the fuck is happening.”

When Barry spoke next, his voice was pinched and high. Harley hadn’t seen her brother cry in eight years, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever was coming.

“It’s dad.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley knew something was wrong when she noticed her mom’s car parked haphazardly in the driveway — Sharon Quinzel was a particular woman, and a good parking job was a serious point of pride for her. Harley parked Betty and grabbed her bags (force of habit) before throwing her door open and stepping right into the living room, eyes searching frantically for her family. It didn’t take her long to find them. There was Sharon, standing with her arms crossed and her eyes trained on the ground in front of her. Barry was sitting in a chair with his palms on his knees, and Harley could tell by his clenching shoulders that he was barely holding it together. And then…

Harley dropped her bag.

“Daddy?”

Nick Quinzel looked up from his seat on the couch, and though he looked tired, aged, and broken, his eyes warmed.

“Hey, monkey,” he smiled, standing to his feet. “How ya doin’?”

Harley wanted to step forward, but her legs locked, rooting her to the floor. She felt a fire rising in her throat and tears brimming in her eyes. Glancing to her mother she found no support, and Barry, who had met his father during a supervised prison visit, just looked back at her with a clenched jaw. Looking back to her father, Harley’s mouth opened just barley.

“What’s… I thought you had six more years.”

Nick rose to his feet, face falling as he took one step forward. Harley tensed and he stilled.

“I got an early release,” he offered. “Listen, why don’t we talk about that a little later?”

“No, we need to talk about this now,” Harley replied. “I don’t… I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re practically a stranger, I need to know what's going on.”

“Harley…” Sharon finally spoke, her fingers coming to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Mom, please,” Harley snapped. “I can’t just…”

“No, you’re right,” Nick sighed. “Let’s sit at the table and we’ll talk.”

Nick walked towards the kitchen with a sense of familiarity that felt alien to Harley. It was like watching an unfamiliar newcomer moving in her own home. Her head clouded with different emotions, and she had to restrain herself from launching herself into his arms, deciding to keep a level head for perhaps the first time in her life.

Sharon and Barry made no move to join them, instead opting to sit together. She put an arm around her son and rubbed his back, whispering something in his ear. He nodded solemnly and she kissed his head. Harley turned her attention back to her father, who was grabbing two beers from the fridge. He popped them open with the bottle open hanging on the wall beside the pantry and came to the kitchen table, setting one before her and clutching the other in his hand.

“You drink, don’t you?”

Harley said nothing, just raised the neck of the bottle to her lips and took a gulp. He nodded.

“‘Course. You’re a Quinzel.”

Harley clenched the bottle in her fist, swallowing down the heat in her throat and willing the tears in her eyes to dissipate. She couldn’t explain the fight-or-flight response her father’s unannounced arrival triggered in her, but she was determined not to show any signs of weakness until she was completely aware of the circumstances.

“Why are you here, daddy?”

She swallowed, taking in a deep breath.

“Dad,” she corrected. He winced for just a millisecond before taking a swig of his beer and setting it back onto the table.

“The court ordered an RIS, a compassionate release,” he began. “I don’t have to go back, I’m out for good.”

Harley nodded, taking her own pull from the bottle in her hand, mostly just so she had something to do other than stare into the eyes of her father and wonder whether she should feel guilty, angry, relieved, or offensive.

“And why would they do that?”

That seemed to strike a nerve, as Nick cleared his throat and looked down, breaking eye contact with his eldest child. Harley didn’t seem to appreciate that. She set the beer down and clasped her hands in front of her, leaning across the table, surprised to find anger bubbling in her chest. He was hiding something from her. He and Sharon both.

“Dad. Why would they give you a reduced sentence?”

Nick looked up and heaved a labored breath.

“Monkey-”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Harley interrupted. “I was a kid when you left, I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t treat me like one. Give it to me straight.”

Nick nodded, leaning back in his chair.

“I have cancer, Harleen.”

Harley swallowed, momentarily thrown, but recovered quickly as more questions began to bubble to the surface at this new admission.

“How long?”

“Diagnosed about two months ago,” Nick replied. “Might be treatable, might not. Regardless, I can’t afford the bills.”

Harley frowned.

“Two months? Why didn’t mom say anything?”

Harley turned to her mother, still seated in the living area, and stared pointedly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Harley, I-” Sharon started. Nick interrupted.

“Because she didn’t know, Harleen.”

Harley turned back to her father, brain working overtime. With each answer came a myriad of new questions, and it was beginning to exhaust her.

“What do you… you didn’t tell your wife you had cancer and you were getting out of jail?”

Nick swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he broke eye contact again.

“Look at me,” Harley demanded. He did not.

“Look at me!”

He finally glanced up, only out of surprise at the bite in his daughter’s voice.

“Harleen-“

“I know my name, thanks,” she bit. “I’d like you to stop buttering me up and just tell me. Just say it to me straight.”

Nick rotated his beer on the table and drummed his fingers against the aged wood, brows knitting together.

“Your mother and I…” he mumbled. He couldn’t finish, but Harley could fill in the blanks.

Barry stood up suddenly and stormed out of the room, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut seconds later. Sharon winced.

“How long?” Harley asked. Nick seemed incapable of responding, so Sharon stood and approached the kitchen table, hand falling to the back of her daughter's chair.

“About two years ago, honey,” she answered. “We didn’t want to say anything because we’d stopped visiting him years ago and we just wanted you and Barry to have normal childhood. When your father got out you would’ve both been in college, and we figured it would just be easier to tell you then.”

Harley swallowed. Her dad was out of jail. He had cancer. And he and her mother were divorced. None of which had they decided Harley was worthy of knowing.

“Is there anything else I don’t know?” she asked. “God, why do I even bother, it’s not like I could expect you to tell me the truth anyway. I’m leaving.”

“Harleen!” Nick called as she stood abruptly to her feet and headed for the front door. “Come back here, we’re not done discussing this!”

“Oh, is it finally a good time for you to start parenting?” Harley growled, turning back towards him just enough to hurl her insult. “Sorry, I didn’t realize your schedule had cleared up! No, dad, I am done discussing this. I’m going to go see my girlfriend.”

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but Harley was out the door before he could utter a syllable. She hopped back on Betty and pulled her phone out, feeling a pang of guilt at the four messages and two missed calls from Pam. Dialing the number and pressing the phone to her ear, she started Betty down the street for the second time that day with the device perched precariously against her ear. Pam, much like Barry had, picked the phone up on the first ring.

“Harley, are you okay? What’s that noise, are you on your bike?”

“Can you meet me somewhere?” Harley asked, realizing only when she spoke that she was crying.

“Where are you?”

“I’m leaving my neighborhood,” Harley sniffled.

“Okay, meet me at the Arkham parking lot, I’ll be there in just a second. Please be safe.”

Pam hung up so Harley wouldn’t have to and threw her backpack over her shoulder, standing up from the table she’s procured at the coffee shop while waiting for Harley. The redhead wasn’t one for speeding, but she was outside of Arkham within minutes. As she pulled into the parking lot she saw Harley was already there, still seated on her motorcycle and leaning over the handlebars, shoulders shaking. Pam pulled up beside her and jumped out of the car, wasting no time before wrapping her arms around the crying girl. Harley immediately responded, throwing her arms around Pam’s neck and burying her face into the starched fabric of her button-up. The redhead didn’t speak, letting Harley cry until she had stopped shaking and was reduced to sniffles and the occasional whimper. Pam leaned back when the worst was over.

“Look at me,” she mumbled softly, taking Harley’s face in her hands. Harley did so reluctantly, feeling a little embarrassed and very guilty.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” she started weakly. “I meant to text you, but-”

“Harley, Harley,” Pam interrupted, smiling a little as she kissed the tears from Harley’s cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m just glad you’re okay. What happened?”

Harley’s eyes began to well again and Pam sighed, pulling her into her chest.

“Nevermind. Nevermind, baby. Just breathe.”

Harley clutched at Pam’s shirt and breathed in the familiar scent of strawberries and honey between sobs.

“Just breathe.”

Chapter Text

“So wait a minute, wait,” Pam interrupted, raising her hand. “I can’t tell. Do we hate this guy or love him?”

“Wh— Pam, you’re not listening!” Harley grumbled. “That’s just it, that’s the problem. I hate him but I also love him.”

“Right.”

Pam had insisted Harley spend the night, even though they had school the next day, and the two were snuggled in her thick, downy comforter. Harley was lying across Pam’s body, nestled close into the taller girl’s chest as she recounted the story of her father’s arrest and eventual estrangement from her family all the way to his sudden and unannounced arrival earlier that evening.

“What was he arrested for?”

Harley propped her hands on the flat of Pam’s chest and situated her chin against her knuckles.

“Embezzlement and fraud or some shit,” the blonde replied with a huff. “I don’t really know the details, Pam, I was three. I was fucking three when he just up and left.”

“But he didn’t leave, Harls, he was arrested,” Pam corrected. “I mean, sure, he could have been more aware of how his actions would affect you or however you wanna argue that angle, but it wasn’t like he just ditched your family.”

“Pam-”

“Sorry, sorry, you know I’m on your side. I just think you should consider-”

The look Harley gave her told Pam it was time to shut the hell up.

“Fine. Not tonight. But we’re talking about this later, Harley, it sounds like he might be looking for a fresh start with you. You need to try and smooth things over with him.”

“Like you smooth things over with your mom?”

Pam darkened and shifted under Harley as if she was trying to get up and turn away, but the blonde’s weight stilled her.

“That’s completely different and you know it.”

Harley felt a little pang of guilt and kissed Pam’s collar bone in acquiesce. That seemed enough to placate the fiery redhead, who wrapped her arms around Harley’s shoulders once more and pulled her close.

“I’m sorry this happened, Harley,” she mumbled into blonde locks. “I can only imagine what you’re feeling. Are you nervous about the cancer?”

Harley nodded gently into Pam’s chest, letting out a heavy sigh. Angry as she might’ve been at the deception she’d felt and being forced to confront her deep-rooted abandonment issues, she had always looked up to her father. He’d been her hero in the short amount of time she’d had with him. And no matter what would come to pass, she knew that she would always love him. Even now, lying in Pam’s arms, she felt the white-hot anger that comes with being lied to slowly begin to simmer to a dull heat. She pinched her eyes shut, determined not to get any fresh tears on Pam’s shirt (she’d just fucking changed out of the first one Harley ruined, for fuck’s sake).

“Harley,” Pam started, clearing her throat and gently pushing against the smaller girl’s shoulders. Harley understood and sat up, Pam following. “If he needs help with hospital bills, we can… I mean, I want to help.”

Harley opened her mouth, unsure at first of what to say, and sputtered for a moment before finding her bearings.

“Pam, no, absolutely not, I can’t accept-”

Pam surged forward, silencing Harley with a kiss. Harley pressed on, attempting to speak against her lover’s lips.

“Pam-“

Pam inched closer, pushing her mouth more fervently against Harley’s.

“Hmph… I know what yer doin’…”

She slid her tongue into Harley’s mouth, fighting with all her might to shut her the fuck up. Harley whined hopelessly, attempts to shove Pam off of her waning. When she spoke again, it sounded more like a helpless plea than a dissuasion.

“Pammy…”

The Pammy in question slid into Harley’s lap and smiled a victorious smile when she felt strong cheerleader’s arms wrapping around the small of her back. She had Harley right where she wanted her. Pam gently slid her tongue back out of the poor girl’s mouth, delicately tracing Harley’s bottom lip before pressing one last chaste, maddening kiss just there. Harley was breathless when they pulled apart, and admittedly quivering just a little. Pam cupped her cheeks and raised her gaze.

“Harleen, I’ll say this once because I know you’re prideful and I don’t want to offend you. Money is no object to me. My family is filthy with it. I have enough in my checking account alone to pay for any treatment your dad might need three times over. The Isleys have been collecting this wealth for generations, alright? Money is just a thing to me. But you…”

Pam’s eyes softened, and she settled her forehead against Harley’s before closing them for fear that they might reveal too much.

“Harley, you’re everything. I want to take care of you. I want to make you happy. I want to keep you safe. And if that means dipping into a little bit of trust fund wealth, then-”

Harley interrupted with a kiss this time around, and only pulled away when she was sure Pam was done trying to get a word in.

“You talk too much, Red.”

Pam chuckled at the irony.

Later that evening, when they were settled in bed for the night — teeth brushed, faces washed, and lights out — Harley was scrolling through her phone when she suddenly gasped. Pam, who was already well on her way to sleep, grumbled and rolled over, slinging an arm over Harley’s stomach.

“Mmmm… wha’sit?”

Harley was momentarily thrown by the absolute fucking treasure that was the ever-articulate Pamela Isley talking in such lazy, careless vocabulary, but she quickly recovered.

“We have a game on Saturday.”

“Who, th’diamonds?”

Harley shook her head, forgetting Pam couldn’t see her in the dark.

“Well, sorta. I mean we. Both of us. The Diamonds are playing the Ivies. Saturday.”

Pam perked up at that. Oh, god… If she knew anything about Harley (and she liked to fancy she did), she knew exactly the kind of low blows the blonde had in mind to ensure the Diamonds’ victory. She groaned and leaned into Harley’s stomach, letting out a muffled groan.

The Ivies didn’t have a chance.

Chapter Text

Harley swallowed, pulling Betty into her driveway the following evening after Diamond’s practice. She’d checked her phone and smiled at the good luck text Pam had sent her, wishing more than anything she had her there with her for support. As she walked up the drive towards her house, she noticed Sharon had taken the time to adjust her car — perhaps the world wasn’t turned entirely upside down.

She turned the key in the lock and pushed against the door gingerly, taking a deep breath as it opened into her home. She had half expected to see everyone sitting in the same positions she’d found them in yesterday as she’d arrived as if they’d never moved. But she saw no one in the living room. Instead, she was met with the sound of uproarious laughter coming from the kitchen.

She dropped her duffle and backpack by the door, stepping into the open space and turning to the right towards the kitchen. There, at the table, was her family — her entire family — laughing over her mom’s famous orange juice pork chop dinner. Nick Quinzel was pounding his fist on the table, Barry was bent over in stitches, and Sharon had tears in her eyes. Harley was so struck, she just stared on with her mouth hanging open as they cackled away at whatever had just been said. Finally, Sharon looked up and reacted.

“Hey, honey bun!” she called, extending her arm towards her eldest. “How was your sleepover last night?”

Harley’s brows furrowed and her eyes darted back and forth between her family, trying to put the puzzle together. Was this was what came of Harley’s absence? Healed relationships and a happy family? Were they going to just pretend what happened yesterday… hadn’t?

“Harleen, have a seat,” Nick said, but the lightness in his tone made it sound more like an open suggestion than an order. Still, she did, easing down into the chair at the head of the table that had been so politely left open for her. Sharon, not Nick, sat at the other head.

“We were just remembering our wedding,” Sharon said with a small smile, though her laughter had faded and a distant melancholy fogged over her eyes. Nick’s smile was a bit forced as well as he picked at his plate with his fork. Barry seemed completely oblivious as he shoveled absolutely disgusting amounts of rice and pork into his mouth. Harley cleared her throat.

“So… I wanted to, um… apologize, dad. For walking out yesterday. I can only imagine what you’re going through right now and I know you’re going to need me and… well, I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t care or wasn’t glad to see you. I… was. Really glad. To see you.”

Nick smiled and reached across the table, setting his hand on Harley’s. She tensed but allowed it, and that was good enough for him. For now.

“I’m so happy to see you, too, Harley. I missed my best girl.”

Harley turned her hand over underneath his to grab onto his palm, swallowing down the tickle in her throat. Barry, knowing his sister well and predicting how pissed she’d be later if she let herself get choked up, seized the opportunity to save her via The Annoying Little Brother Method.

“So Harley, didja do any eye-fucking last night?”

Chaos.

“You’re letting him say ‘fuck’?” Nick asked Sharon, rounding on her abruptly.

“Wh- absolutely not!” she defended urgently.

“You said it yourself, ma!” Barry whined.

“And I told you not to repeat me!”

“Wait, ma, you talk about Pam and I eye-fucking?” Harley asked.

“Well, no, it’s just- I mean come on, Harleen, you’re really not discreet about, you can cut the sexual tension between you two with a-”

“Wait wait wait, Harley, you’re dating?”

“She’s turning 17 in a week, Nicky, of course she’s dating.”

“Well how was I supposed to know-”

“-this mean that I can say fuck now officially or-”

“-little shit, Barry, I’m gonna fuckin’-!”

“-just wanted to have a nice goddamn dinner before-”

“-dating a girl?”

Everyone fell silent at that. The beginning of the question had fallen short, but they’d heard enough. All eyes fell on Harley, whose own expression was fixed on her father’s.

“So last night, when you said you were going to see your girlfriend… that wasn’t an expression? You’re really dating a… a girl?”

Harley stiffened a little, straightening up in her chair and bracing herself for the worst. Nick narrowed his eyes.

“You got a picture?”

Barry, whose mouth was hanging wide open, reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, opening up Instagram and sliding the picture over to his father. Harley would harass him later on why he was following her girlfriend’s social media, and especially why he had her account pulled up and ready to go (the Quinzel siblings had a similar taste in women, as it would turn out), but she was still hyper-focused on her father. He looked at the picture, smiled a little, and slid the device back across the table to Barry before turning to Harley.

“You got game, kid, I tell you what. That girl’s something.”

Harley sighed in relief, which morphed into a sort of huff of laughter as she relaxed back into her chair.

“Yeah, she’s a killer.”

“Just don’t get her pregnant, dig?”

Sharon found her daughter’s eyes and erupted into laughter. Harley, if one could believe it, turned impossibly redder.

“So when can I meet this girl?” Nick asked, reining in the conversation once more.

“Harley has a game on Friday she’s cheering at,” Sharon offered with a smirk.

“And her softball team is playing Pam’s on Saturday!” Barry piped up.

Harley glowered. Barry kept one too many tabs on her girlfriend.

“Yeah, but, you guys never come to watch me cheer,” she covered. “I mean, it’d be borin’, you’d only see me for a bit. You should just wait till Saturday to watch me play. Then you can meet Pam afterwards.”

“You just want Pam to eye-fuck you in your cheerleading outfit,” Barry taunted, wagging his eyebrows.

“Can we please stop talking about Pam and me eye-fucking,” Harley hissed through her teeth.

“Yes,” Sharon seconded.

“Please,” Nick agreed. Barry crossed his arms and huffed.

“Harls, we’ll come to your game on Saturday, okay?” Sharon assured. “You and Pam can do… whatever you gotta do on Friday.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Sharon.”

“Maaaaa, gross!”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harley had barely thrown Pam down into the front seat of her truck and shut the door before she began tugging at the fucking delicious leather jacket that fit the redhead so well.

“I like this,” she mumbled as she pushed it off the taller girl’s shoulders. “Is this new?”

“I thought you might,” Pam answered smugly, chasing Harley’s lips with the same urgency. "Bought it just for you."

“Mm… looks good on you. Gonna look better offa ya.”

“Oh, god…”

It was Friday, and Harley had cheered her heart out — mainly because she knew how crazy and horny and worked up it was going to make Pam. And it had worked. All the hip thrusts and body rolls and tight, tight clenches of her abs had Pam’s heart hammering in her throat. When the game had ended and she stepped off the field, the poor pitcher all but threw her girlfriend over her shoulder and carried her all the way to the back of the parking lot where the truck was waiting.

Of course, Harley was in control now. As she pushed Pam’s shirt up past her belly and dove in to lick between the dips and ridges of the girl’s abs, a short, high pitched noise that one would never associate with Pamela Isley began to rise in the taller girl’s throat. Harley couldn’t help the bubbling pride that she was able to reduce her girlfriend — a “power-hungry stone-cold bitch,” as she’d often described herself — to a mewling, pitiful mess.

“Put your hands above your head,” Harley ordered suddenly. “Press them against the door, no touching allowed.”

Pam’s eyes flickered.

“What if I say no?”

Harley grinned wickedly as she leaned in close to nip at Pam’s earlobe.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll have to tie them up myself.”

Pam’s hips bucked upwards, missing Harley’s entirely.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

And that was how Pamela Isley ended up with her wrists bound together by Harley’s discarded cheer crop top, arms wrapped around Harley’s neck as the blonde pounded into her mercilessly with her fingers. She could feel Pam slowly beginning to unravel, green eyes screwed shut in concentration as she found a cadence when Harley’s phone began to ring. She groaned, seeing the caller ID was Selina.

“Shit. I should take this.”

“Harley, I’ll fucking kill you if you pull out of me right now.”

“Baby I’m so so so so sorry.”

“I’m not kiddinmph.”

Harley interrupted with a quick apologetic kiss before removing her fingers with a wet pop and reaching for her phone. Pam gasped, and Harley removed bound arms from around her neck, leaving Pam with nothing.

“Hey, Kitty,” Harley answered, a little breathless but albeit very convincingly innocent. Pam hungrily wrapped her legs around Harley’s waist and sat up, aligning her torso with Harley’s and beginning to grind down in the shorter girl’s lap, more out of necessity than malicious intent. She picked up right where she left off, breathless and hungry, fingers digging into Harley’s shoulders in a piercing grip as she edged herself on a firm hip. The blonde shot her a glare as she listened to whatever Selina had to say.

“Yeah, mom’s gonna be at the game tomorrow. She’s bringing dad, I told you he came home a couple days ago.”

Pam continued to rock in Harley’s lap, wishing she could get between Harley’s legs. She bit the shirt binding her hands with her teeth and tugged, removing the cloth from her hands and freeing her. Smiling smugly, she made sure to meet Harley’s gaze before reached with one hand down the front of her body. Harley eyed her wearily as she continued to listen to Selina talk.

“Mhm. Yeah, it’ll be weird, for sure. just… um… yeah just be nice and… oh wow.”

Pam’s fingers found her own clit and she let out a soft whimper, rocking into her own hand in Harley’s lap and letting her head fall back. Her fingers circled her entrance broadly, then traced against her tight bundle of nerves, and with how close she’d already been just moments before, she didn’t expect it was going to take very long. Harley’s breath hitched as her legs slid open just a little on their own accord. Pam noticed the slip and chose to seize the opportunity. She reached between them and swiftly pulled the girl’s panties down, leaving her in just her mini skirt. Harley’s glare turned into a wild look of urgent hunger.

“Yeah, Selina, I hear you. Hey, could we, uh-”

Pam sat back flush in the middle of the front seat and found Harley’s hips with her hands, gripping them firmly and tugging. Harley followed Pam’s guide, settling her knees on either side of one of Pam’s thighs so that their legs were staggered. She slid down the length of Pam’s thigh, eliciting a silent gasp from the latter.

“Kitty, that’s great. Look, I gotta go, I- Oh, fuck, Pammy.”

Their centers pressed together, and Selina’s voice, though not on speaker, could be heard clear as day through the receiver as Harley dropped the phone to the seat and they began to rock into each other.

“HARLEEN FRANCES QUINZEL I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE FUCKING MY STAR PLAYER WHILE TAKING A MOTHERFUCKING PHONE CALL FROM ME YOU ABSOLUTE LITTLE FUCKING SHIT I'M CALLING YOUR MOTHER THIS INSTANT THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU I AM GOING TO BONK YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD WITH A MOTHERFUCKING SOFTBALL BAT YOU DIRTY LITTLE FUCKING-”

The phone fell to the floor of the truck, and the voice continued only briefly before Selina inevitably hung up on the other end. But neither girl was paying attention to that — Pam was palming Harley’s ass underneath her mini skirt, and Harley was tugging Pam’s head back by her hair so delightfully, and they came together in a wave of trembling limbs and throaty moans.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

One might have assumed that they’d gotten it out of their systems on the night before the Diamonds and Ivies played each other.

One would be wrong.

Harley stayed the night again, nudging Pam over the edge time after time until the poor girl’s legs were no more than jell-o, and then she was pushed onto her back as Pam returned the favor. Both girls were trying to wear the other out, hoping to gain an edge before tomorrow's game. It was foreplay at its finest.

The next morning, Harley and Pam dressed together. They even dressed each other, Pam’s slender fingers buttoning a fly, Harley’s needy hands tucking in a jersey. In reality, it was to hide their nerves. Not only was it the first game they were playing of the season, but it was the first time they would share a field since the establishment of their relationship. Both competitive in nature, someone was inevitably going home pissed.

They took Betty. As Harley pulled into the Gotham Prep parking lot (Pam had that edge over her), she looked over her shoulder to gaze at Pam.

“I still adore you even though I’m about to whoop your ass,” she offered smugly. Pam laughed and shook her head.

“Oh, baby, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The truth was, Harley was just as distracted by Pam as Pam was by Harley. It was just that Pam had a more difficult job when she was playing her specialty position. For fuck’s sake, Harley’s entire job was to stare at Pam as the redhead wound up and let it rip. Alternatively, if Pam even once faltered and let her gaze drop to Harley, even for a second, it was practically a guaranteed ball. But Harley just looked so damn… cute.

Harley, needless to say, had a wonderful fucking time when her team was at bat, Pam pitching while the blonde herself squatted in her catcher’s gear behind hitter after hitter. There she could sit and catch strike after strike all while staring Pam — her thighs, her biceps, the faint outline of her abs against her tight jersey, the way her little pink tongue would dart out to wet her lips in concentration.

In the final inning when the Diamonds were at bat again, Harley was hitting while Pam pitched, and the excitement in the air was palpable. The entire softball field — Diana, Zoe, Tatsu, Coach Lawton, Coach Wayne, Selina — they were all aware of the relationship between the two girls. What was more, so many in attendance in the bleachers were friends of Harley's. The tension was so that even those who’d never met the pair could feel the shift in energy in the air, and backs straightened in the cool metal seats to watch the showdown.

In the end, Harley hit a home run off of Pam after two strikes. As she jogged over the home plate, winning the Diamonds the game, as the benched teammates flooded the field in victory, as Lawton ran over to wrap Zoe in a hug, Harley looked over to study her girlfriend’s expression. To her pleasant surprise, etched on the redhead’s face was a look of pure, unadulterated pride. Harley flung herself into waiting arms and peppered Pam’s face with kisses.

"You hit a mean home run, babygirl," Pam praised.

Harley fell back on her heels and smiled up at Pam, fingers playing with the damp red curls that peeked out from a forest green cap at the nape of her neck.

“You let me win, didn’t you?”

Pam smirked as she wound her arms around Harley's waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Quinzel.”

Over Pam’s shoulder, Harley clocked a few college scouts as they jotted down final notes on their clipboards and stood to leave. Her arms tightened around her pitcher.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Selina was only slightly fuming when she stepped onto the field, for a number of reasons. Of course, it both stroked and pistol-whipped her ego that her old team had beat the team she was training now. She’d taught the Diamonds well, and they hadn’t had nearly the resources the Ivies did. But then, what did it say about her as a coach that she couldn’t excel at Gotham Prep the way she had at Arkham?

“Excuse me, Miss Kyle?” a voice asked from behind her, interrupting her train of thought. Turning, she spotted a burly man with five o’clock shadow and a slight gut approaching her. She quirked an eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip.

“Who’s asking?”

“James Gordon."

“Oh,” was all Selina could say, eyeing the manilla envelope in the man’s hand. “Oh, yeah, I see.”

Oh, shit was more like it.

"I spoke with Coach Wayne about meeting a certain Pamela Isley, and he pointed me in your direction.”

Selina didn't know why, but she found herself growing defensive on Pam's behalf.

"Does Miss Isley know you’re here?”

“She’s aware of me and my interest in her, but no, I don’t think she knows I’m here.”

Selina nodded, turning her gaze towards the field and spotting Pam, who was hanging off of Harley’s hip as teammates and family congratulated the blonde. She turned back to James Gordon and jerked her head in their direction.

“That’s her over there. But listen, could you give them a second?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Aha!” Nick announced triumphantly as the Quinzel family approached Harley and Pam at the edge of the field. “That’s my girl, my little athlete! You were so great, honey.”

He wrapped her up in a tight hug, but pulled away quickly when he remembered the unspoken rule to ease back and take things slow. Harley offered a grateful smile, albeit spotty and forced, which he returned enthusiastically (and maybe a little obliviously). Then, clearing his throat, he acknowledged Pam with an excessive burst of famous Quinzel energy.

“So! I take it this is the famous Pamela? Well, it’s a, uh… a real pleasure to meet you! Nick Quinzel.”

“Good to meet you, Mr. Quinzel,” Pam greeted politely, grasping the hand he had extended towards her and shaking it firmly just once. Nick smiled. Harley smiled.

He was trying.

“Nice grip you got there, Pam. And a hell of a curveball. I gotta tell you, though, y’know, I’m kinda obligated to say it — if you hurt Harls I’m gonna have to kill you.”

There was a slight pause where Pam tried to figure out if he was joking or not, Nick waited for an answer, Sharon blushed excessively, and Barry had to fight down a fit of laughter. Finally, after it became evident that Nick wasn't going to laugh it off, Pam cleared her throat.

“With all due respect, sir,” she replied boldly, withdrawing her hand, “the same goes for you.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed momentarily, and Harley was afraid she was going to have to jump between the two of them, but then his face split into a grin. He winked at his eldest and jerked his head in Pam’s direction.

“She’s a pistol, monkey, I tell you what-”

“Hey, Nick, we should head out, BearBear suggested pizza for dinner,” Sharon spoke up, eyeing Harley knowingly and shooting a wink of her own. Harley blushed.

“Well, Harley can join us!” Nick assured. “Can’t you, monkey?”

“Nick,” Sharon hissed under her breath, leaning in to her former husband. “I think Harley is going to be a little preoccupied tonight.”

“Oh.”

His eyes widened.

“Oooohhhhhhhh. Right. Well, Harls, see you, uh….?”

“Tomorrow,” Harley filled in, suddenly wishing the softball field would open up and swallow her whole.

“Tomorrow! Right. See you tomorrow. Love you, monkey. Hey! I’m proud of ya.”

Harley smiled, just barely tensing up this time when he reached out and pulled her into a one-armed hug before drawing back and patting her shoulder.

“Use protection.”

As her family was walking away, Barry turned to his father.

“Dad, why would you tell her to use protection, they’re both girls.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Barry, it's'a joke-”

“That was so hot,” Harley mumbled when they were out of earshot, turning towards Pam. The redhead smiled and dropped her hands to Harley’s hips, tugging her flush against her.

“What, me squaring up with your dad? Did that do it for you?”

Harley was about to lean up to capture Pam’s lips when a throat cleared behind her. Turning around in Pam’s arms, who should Harley see standing there but—

“Arthur?”

And there he was! In all his tattooed, hairy, muscular gym shark glory, there stood Arthur Curry. But he wasn’t alone.

“Mera?” Pam gasped, surging forward and throwing her arms around the newcomer. Harley’s mouth went slack — even Arthur’s did, for a moment — as the two redheads hugged before them. She shot him a questioning look and he just shrugged, but a smile was still playing on his lips.

“Harls,” Pam grinned, pulling away from the other redhead but keeping their hands interlocked. “This is Mera, she and Diana and I used to swim together at Metro High before Di and I transferred to Gotham.”

“Harley Quinzel, nice to meetcha,” Harley offered tentatively, shaking the girl's — god, she couldn’t even call her that — the woman’s hand.

“Mera,” the (new???) redhead smiled. “Arthur was just telling me how good a hitter you are, and I knew Pam was playing for the Ivies tonight, so I told him we had to come watch. Are you coming to Diana’s party later? She invited us.”

“I hadn’t told Harley about it yet, it completely slipped my mind,” Pam groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But I was totally about to. Do you wanna go?”

Harley opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly Selina was approaching at a rapid pace, a large man following behind her.

“Isley!” the brunette barked harshly, jerking her thumb to the man accompanying her as she marched up to the group. “Got someone here who wants to meet you.”

Pam’s brows furrowed as the stranger approached them. Harley stood as tall as she could at 5’2, her chest puffed out.

“Can’t we talk later?” Pam asked as the man shoved his free hand in the front pocket of his slacks and tightened his grip around a bulky envelope with the other. She had a feeling she knew what this conversation was going to be about, and she really wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. Tomorrow, maybe, or even later tonight. Selina, to her credit, let a flicker of sympathy dart across her eyes before her resolve hardened again.

“Stalled him as long as I could, kid.”

“Congrats on your win, Miss Quinzel,” the man offered to Harley politely. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me in the near future — you’ve got a hard swing. Miss Isley, if you don’t mind?”

He extended his arm, gesturing towards the bleachers. Pam offered a side glance to Harley and squeezed her hand before following Gordon so they might discuss matters in private. The conversation, unfortunately, seemed to leave with them, as the unlikely foursome now stood awkwardly in their circle. Finally, Mera broke the silence.

“Well, Harley, if you decide to head over to Diana’s tonight, just have Pam text me,” she said with a smile before leaning in to wrap her arms around the shorter girl’s shoulders. Harley started, surprised by the sudden display of affection from a virtual stranger and— wait holy shit she smelled so good? As Mera pulled away, she winked at Harley before elbowing Arthur playfully in the ribs.

“I’ll see you at the car.”

And with that, Mera turned on her heel and walked away. Arthur took in a deep breath and smiled sheepishly up at Harley.

“So are you…?” she asked, gesturing from him to the redhead’s retreating form. He smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck before exhaling again.

“Sorta. We really only just met at Pam’s party, after you two went upstairs. I hadn’t seen you much in school since everything went down, but I would’ve told you-”

“You don’t owe me any answers or explanations,” Harley interrupted. “But, listen, I’m glad you came to say hi. And… I’m really happy for you.”

Arthur smiled and nodded, looking very much like he’d like to hug Harley but was unsure how it would be received. She didn’t let him talk himself out of it, instead taking matters into her own hands and wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“And don’t tell Pam I said so, but she’s really fuckin’ cute,” the blonde whispered in his ear before pulling away. He laughed heartily and nodded towards the parking lot.

“I should head out. Might see you later?”

“Later,” Harley grinned. He turned on his heel and jogged after Mera, catching up with her and lifting her into the air before kissing her senseless.

Harley watched it all, smiling. All was well. Her father was back (with a doctor’s visit scheduled and an apartment lease starting in May!), things were smoothing over with Arthur, whom she’d come to realize was an incredibly good and noble person that she had never really given him credit for, and of course, there was Pam… Come to think of it, things were a little too good to be—

“Oh, Quinzeeeeeeel…” a voice whispered in her ear tauntingly. Harley jumped, forgetting Selina had been watching the entire interaction go down.

“Jesus, Kitty, you scared me!”

“Oh, I scared you?” the brunette repeated with a fairly fucking terrifying jingle in her voice as she leaned in close to her prodigy’s face. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

Harley squirmed, suddenly wishing she’d taken the time to apologize for what happened the night previous.

“Kitty, you’re, uh, you're still kinda scarin’ me.”

“Listen, puddin’,” Selina continued with no regard to Harley’s discomfort. “I just talked with Lawton. He wants me back coaching the Diamonds. Of course, I told him with competitive pay, I would need some pretty steep compensation, but it turns out he and Wayne have been talking about sharing me, wouldn’t you know it? So the Ivies get me Monday/Wednesday/Friday and you guys get me the rest. Do you know what that means, puddin’?”

The color drained from Harley’s face as she relived exactly what had happened on her last phone call to her mentor, and she could only imagine what kind of payback Selina was already plotting.

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes!”

“Selina, listen, it was all- I mean, that was a total accident, y’know I didn’t mean to-”

“I. Am. Your. God,” Selina grinned, stepping forward menacingly. “I’m gonna have you hittin’ pitches till you puke, Quinzel!"

And with that, the assistant coach turned on her heel with a gleeful cackle and proudly peacocked her way to the Ivies locker room, leaving a mortified, terrified (and admittedly contented) Harley in her wake. Was her ex-mentor about to drive her into the dirt? Inevitably. But, Harley reminded herself with a smile as she headed off to wait for Pam in the parking lot, at least that meant her ex-mentor was ex no more.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was almost a half-hour later when Pam finally returned. The Arkham High bus had already pulled out, the fans had left, and most of the Ivies had been picked up by their family drivers. Even Coach Wayne had headed off, nodding politely in Harley’s direction before slipping into his Ferrari and speeding away. Selina walked into the parking lot right before Pam approached, stepping towards the blonde leaning against her bike.

“I stayed to make sure he didn’t try anything with your girl,” the brunette let her know quietly. “He seemed like a nice guy, though — left in a bitchin' '86 Mustang. Pam’s headed this way. Hey, Harls?”

Selina’s expression turned serious, and Harley swallowed nervously.

“Be supportive, okay? This is gonna be a really hard call for Pam. You gotta make sure she makes the choice that’s best for her, and that might not be the choice that’s best for you. I love you, ya little shit.”

Selina leaned in a pressed an out-of-character, deceptively gentle kiss to Harley’s forehead and then left as suddenly as she’d come, leaving a very confused Harley behind for Pam to discover. As the redhead approached, she smiled a little.

“You might wanna wipe your face with a Clorox wipe, babe, I hear ‘Lina has cooties.”

Selina, who still hadn’t fully gotten into her car just yet, hollered back across the parking lot.

“I heard that, Isley!”

“You were meant to!” Pam shouted back, laughing as Selina got in her car and slammed the door shut. Then, turning to Harley, the pitcher’s smile faded when she noticed the slight frown lingering on the blonde's lips.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, stepping closer.

“I dunno,” Harley shrugged. “You tell me. Selina mentioned something about a choice you gotta make?"

Pam’s expression darkened and she sighed, grip tightening on the envelope that had been in Gordon’s hand.

"Right. So, um, about... college..."

Chapter Text

There was no desperate grabbing or breathless murmurs when the door to Pam’s bedroom shut. In fact, Harley had almost considering leaving Pam alone for the night — after all, she had an important decision to make, didn’t she? It wasn’t at all that then blonde didn’t understand, because of course she did. Hell, she’d be having to make this decision herself in a year’s time. Colleges were already talking to her, she’d been receiving scholarship offers since September. But it just wasn’t fair. She’d just met Pam. And she’d fucking wasted their first month together hating her.

Needless to say, she’d ended up coming inside anyway, awkwardly asking Pam if she could hop in the shower. As she stepped under the steady stream of water, not bothering to wait for it to heat up, she leaned her forehead against the cold tile lining the wall and let the tears fall freely.

Pam was waiting with a mug of hot chocolate when Harley stepped out of the steamy bathroom already dressed in her oversized sleep shirt and ‘Arkham Cheer' shorts. Harley took the mug gratefully but couldn’t bring herself to lift it to her lips as Pam guided her towards the bed to sit down.

“So,” Pam said softly. She shifted a little, trying to settle as comfortably as possible. Harley pulled her legs up under herself and settled the mug in her lap, her index finger circling the rim. Pam frowned.

“You’re not going to drink that, are you.”

Harley shook her head honestly and apologetically. Pam took the mug and set it on the bedside table.

“Harley-”

“I want you to go to Western State,” Harley interrupted abruptly. Pam’s voice caught in her throat, her eyes blinking rapidly as the words caught up with her.

“What?”

“If you want to,” Harley tacked on messily. “I want you to go to Western State. You said they have a decent softball program, right? And their botanic biochemistry program is amazing, you said that. And they gave you a full ride. I know money isn’t a problem, but-”

“Harley, Gotham University accepted me, too. Western State’s in fucking Kansas, why would I leave when I could just stay right-”

“But do you wanna go there? Do you wanna go to Gotham University?”

Pam was silent, picking at the softball trousers she was still wearing, wishing she’d changed while Harley was in the bathroom. Instead she had wasted that time staring at her bedroom ceiling and trying to pretend she didn’t hear Harley crying.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered honestly. “I mean, no. I don’t really want to go there. But… I want you.”

Shot through the heart much? Harley felt her throat clench but succeeded in quelling the tears before they sprang back into her eyes — truth be told, she probably just didn’t have any left to shed. She straightened her back.

“Pam, you can’t let me play any kinda factors in this. This choice does not involve me.”

Pam’s jaw clenched, which Harley had come to learn meant she was fighting back tears of her own. Harley reached out slowly as if approaching a wild animal, her fingers finding Pam’s and taking them in her grasp.

“I feel like I’m only just meeting you,” Pam spoke softly. “Every day I learn more about who you are and what makes you you and it makes me just… adore you that much more. I just wish I didn’t have to make this choice now. I wish this wasn’t happening now. I wish-”

Harley kissed her softly.

“I know,” she whispered against Pam’s lips. “I know how you’re feeling, I’m feeling it too. But I’m just a small part of your huge life. You have to plan for your future, and I might not be a part of that."

“Don’t,” Pam insisted, reaching to cup Harley’s cheek. “I really don’t want to talk about that option.”

But it was an option, Harley realized perhaps for the first time. And hearing Pam say it made it suddenly a very real option. It was mid-March, and Pam would have to inform the schools of her decision soon.

“We have five more months before you have to leave,” Harley reminded her. “Whatever you decide, at least we have that. It’s not like you’re leaving this week.”

“No,” Pam agreed. “But I have to decide where I’ll be in five months this week. How is that fair?”

Harley scooted closer and curled against Pam’s side, arms wrapping around her waist as she rested her chin on a jersey-clad shoulder.

“It’s not.”

Pam laughed bitterly, and Harley squeezed her tighter.

“Harls, if it’s alright with you, I’d rather we just drop this for tonight,” she sighed, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Harley shifted against her.

“Well, yeah, sure, if you wanna, but I just thought-”

“Baby.”

Pam put her hand on Harley’s thigh.

“Please. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

There was a pain Harley couldn’t place swimming in Pam’s eyes, and it worried her. She suddenly looked much older, not at all like the suave, smug pitcher Harley had met not all that long ago trapping her against the side of the snack shack. No, this Pam was a woman. A woman who had a dream and a role to play. A woman that didn’t belong to Harley. Reaching up to hold Pam’s face in her hands, Harley spoke.

“Then let’s not talk.”

She leaned in gingerly, pressing her lips to Pam’s in a slow kiss that didn’t heat as she laid the redhead back against the cushy mattress. Her touches weren’t hurried or desperate as she unbuttoned Pam’s jersey and smoothed her hands over taught skin. In fact, she had no problem pulling away entirely after sliding the garment off of Pam’s shoulders, propping herself up on an elbow and tucking a strand of red hair behind a freckled ear.

“What is it?” Pam asked, concern worrying her features. Harley smiled and traced a soft pattern on the curve of the redhead’s cheek.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I ever saw.”

Pam didn’t smile, but her eyes flickered down to Harley’s lips. Her hands landed somewhere around the catcher’s ribs.

“Harley,” she said softly, her voice wobbling a little, whether from nerves or emotion Harley couldn’t place. Pam caught her bottom lip between her teeth before remembering she needed it free if she wanted to speak.

“I want you.”

Harley nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, baby, I figured that’s where things were-”

“No,” Pam interrupted, closing her eyes for a second. “No, Harley, I… want you to make love to me.”

Suddenly the stakes were much higher. Harley’s eyebrows raised on their own accord as she cleared her throat and shifted. This wasn’t a heated rendezvous in her attic or Pam’s truck or a pergola outside of a deserted house that neither of them lived at. This was in Pam’s bed, in Pam’s room, her safe haven, with Pam beneath her asking for everything she had to offer. Harley swallowed nervously.

“I can do that.”

Pam nodded, closing her eyes in an attempt to catch the solitary tear that had started to slip out. She failed, but felt Harley’s lips against her skin where it tracked down her cheek.

“No crying allowed,” Harley ordered. “If I’m gonna do this, you aren’t allowed to cry. Because if you cry, then I’ll cry, and my mama didn’t raise no bitch.”

Pam laughed a little, her hands coming up to loop behind Harley’s neck.

“Okay. I promise not to cry.”

Harley smiled gingerly before closing the gap between them, inhaling a little as her lips met Pam’s in a firm kiss. She felt her heart beating like it never had, not during her first time with Pam, not during her first time with anyone. This somehow felt so much more necessary to get right.

And maybe, Harley thought as she kissed across Pam’s throat and left little purple marks in her wake, it was because her subconscious was convinced that if she got it right tonight, Pam might choose to stay. Maybe, she pondered as she unclasped Pam’s bra and kissed her collarbone, it was because if Pam chose to go, she wanted this to be the memory the redhead kept of them. Or maybe, she concluded finally as she kissed a line down her lover’s body, it was because she already knew what Pam was going to decide.

Pam sighed Harley’s name as the blonde’s mouth reached her center. Harley worked her slowly, tongue tracing delicate messages of love and adoration against her. As she slipped her tongue inside Pam’s entrance to tease her, Pam whimpered, fingers fisting in blonde curls. Harley would’ve stayed there, too, gently pushing Pam towards the edge, if not for the soft voice she heard above her head.

“Harley, come here.”

Harley looked up, admittedly a little confused. But she realized she hadn’t misheard as she found green eyes gazing at her. So she kissed the inside of Pam’s thigh softly and climbed her way back up her lean frame. She hovered over the redhead, waiting expectantly for instruction. Instead, Pam took one of Harley’s hands and placed it between her thighs. Harley understood, her fingers extending to softly stroke Pam and pick up where her mouth had left off.

“Kiss me,” was the only explanation Pam offered for the interruption, and Harley did. She kissed Pam as she circled her clit, and she kissed her as she slid one and then a second finger past her entrance. She kissed her as she tipped her over the edge, Pam’s fingers digging into Harley’s biceps as she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. She kissed her as Pam rode out her orgasm, pulling Harley as close as she could and wrapping her legs around the blonde’s waist. And she kissed her after that, too. She kept kissing her until she tasted salt.

Pulling back, Harley looked down to see tears streaming down flushed cheeks. She sighed.

“You promised you wouldn’t cry, Red.”

“I love you.”

Harley stilled. The words had come from nowhere and punched her right in the gut. But as she searched Pam’s face, she knew that the redhead meant it.

“Pammy-”

“Please don’t say anything,” Pam interrupted. “I can’t hear it. Whatever it is, however you could possibly respond, I can’t hear it right now.”

Harley hardly thought it was fair that Pam got to say what she was thinking and she didn't, but she realized as she settled against Pam’s bare chest that she didn’t know what she would have told her, anyway.

Chapter Text

A week later, Pam accepted her admission to Western State University, where she would play softball on the junior varsity team and earn her PhD in botanical biochemistry through their state-of-the-art program. Harley held her hand while she clicked send, and that was that.

The Ivies didn’t make it to the New Jersey State Playoffs, much to Pam’s disappointment, not that it made a difference in her prospective collegiate softball career. To no one’s real surprise, the Diamonds not only made the playoffs, but crushed the championship game with flying colors, and when Zoe pitched the winning strike-out to Harley in that final game, Pam was the first to run onto the field and lift the blonde into her arms, drowning her in all the adoration and kisses she could muster.

With the season over, there was really only one thing left.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“So who’s wearing the suit?” Zoe asked as Harley plopped down on the cafeteria bench beside her. Harley side glanced her best friend with pursed lips and picked up her apple.

“Whadya talkin’ about, Zo?”

“To prom!” Zoe pressed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Which one of you is gonna wear the suit?”

Harley took a bite and slung her arm around Zoe’s shoulders.

“And just what makes you think Pam and I are goin’ to prom?”

“You didn’t break up, did you?” Zoe gasped, and Harley almost crushed the apple in her face.

“No, dumbass, it’s just not really my kinda… event, y’know what I mean?”

“What are you two plotting?” Tatsu asked as she sat down on the other side of Zoe (questionably close, as a matter of fact, Harley noted with a scowl). The blonde raised an eyebrow.

“Uh… hi?” she began. “Sorry, did I miss somethin’ here? Are we friends now, or…?”

“Oh, I invited Tats to sit with us,” Zoe explained, suddenly very interested in the mystery vegetable medley at the corner of her tray. Harley’s eyes narrowed.

“Tats.”

“So, um, anyway, prom,” Zoe deflected. “You are definitely going, not a negotiation. So my thinking is, Pam gets us all tickets to her prom, since ours is gonna be in our gym and Gotham Prep is totally gonna have it on, like, a yacht or some shit.”

“‘Pam gets us all tickets,’ what’s that mean, who’s ‘us’?” Harley laughed. Zoe shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, for you and her, obviously,” the pitcher mumbled, “and then Arthur, and Arthur wants to bring that girl Mera, and then, um….” She cleared her throat. “Then uhhh Tatsuandme.”

Harley chuckled, nodding in sudden understanding as she unscrewed her water and took a swig.

“Tatsu and you.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

They were leaving Sal’s Diner, the late April evening suddenly stifling to Harley as the blonde swallowed nervously and tugged her denim jacket off. Pam pretended not to notice, but a small smile crept across her lips as she kept her eyes focused ahead. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what was coming — Harley had been acting weird all night. She knew something was up when the blonde ordered a vanilla milkshake instead of her usual strawberry with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top. Still, she acted surprised when Harley cleared her throat and made no move to get in the truck as they approached it.

“Something on your mind, sweet thing?” Pam asked carelessly. She knew Harley liked that pet name best, and she figured (with a little dash of devious intent) that it would turn Harley into even more of a bumbling mess.

She was correct. Harley hopelessly opened and closed her mouth a few times, and Pam had to fight really hard not to laugh. Though she put forth a valiant effort, she couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her lips. Harley turned beet red and all but stomped her foot.

“Well… well you try asking the prettiest girl in the world to prom!” Harley yelped defensively. Pam just laughed harder.

“I don’t have to, she’s doing all the hard work for me.”

Harley turned on her heel towards the truck to get in, but Pam reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging the smaller girl back in towards herself. Harley didn’t put up much of a fight, letting herself be pulled flush against the redhead. Her blush intensified, but her expression softened.

“Harley, I really just kind of assumed. Obviously I’m taking you to prom.”

Harley melted into the kiss that followed, her arms looping around Pam’s neck as they pressed against each other in the neon-lit parking lot.

That was easy.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam smoothed her hands down the front of her green gown, fiddling with the ivy details decorating the plunging neckline. She thought it might’ve been a little on the nose considering her school’s “mascot,” but Harley had gotten so excited when they’d been looking at dresses online and the gown had come up that Pam just couldn’t help herself.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door softly.

“Miss Isley,” came Frank’s voice. “You’re going be late to pick up Miss Quinzel if you don’t head out soon.”

“I’ll be right there, Frank!” Pam called, checking her appearance one last time in the mirror before going to her bedside table and picking up a small box. She tossed it into a clutch with her wallet and her keys and turned to open the door. Frank stood with his back to her, turning when he heard it open.

“How do I look?” Pam asked, offering a small twirl and a shrug.

“Radiant, Miss Isley,” was Frank’s response, and he meant it. Pam smiled and he tilted his head towards the door.

“But you do need to go.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m going.”

She took the 1970 Cadillac De Ville that had struck Harley so that day in the car garage. Grace Isley had been appalled by the prospect of her daughter having to drive herself to her own senior prom, insisting that Frank drive her and ‘her little friends’ in the limousine, but David Isley had at last put his foot down, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. So Pam pulled her dress up mid-calf and situated herself in the front seat of her father’s most prized possession, pulling out of the garage and onto the street that led to Harley’s house.

When she finally pulled into the driveway, Harley was already on her porch, but she wasn’t alone. Her hands were covering her face while she shouted and pleaded as Sharon, Nick, and Barry all hounded her with phones in hand, snapping picture after picture. As the Cadillac pulled into the driveway, all four of them turned, and three jaws dropped.

“Holy shit!” Barry shouted, lunging towards the car.

“Language!” Sharon barked.

“Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick,” was Nick’s slightly more eloquent response.

Harley didn’t say anything, just kept her cool as she stepped towards the car with a smirk playing on her lips. Pam rolled the window down as the blonde approached.

“Hey, Pammy,” she offered playfully. Pam smiled up at her, tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. Harley’s newly manicured fingers fell to the windowsill as she leaned down to Pam’s level.

“New ride?” she asked with a quirk of her brow.

“New look,” Pam answered with a smirk of her own, gesturing to Harley’s appearance. And she was right. Pam didn’t know what she’d been expecting from her chaotic girlfriend, but a classy, sleek satin gown in deep crimson red hadn’t quite been what she’d pictured in her mind. Harley had also cropped her hair just past her shoulders in an elegant bob, offering even more exposed skin when paired with the backless dress. It was a surprise, but not at all an unpleasant one. There was a maturity about her girlfriend that Pam hadn’t ever noticed before.

“I thought you might like it,” Harley smiled with a wink, leaning in to press her lips to Pam’s. Pam hummed softly, pulling away when Harley opened her mouth just a little.

“Harls, not that I don’t love kissing you, but lipstick-”

“Right, right!”

“And, uh, your mom is still taking pictures.”

Though Barry and Nick had moved on to admiring the car, Sharon still sat on the porch with her phone out taking a rapid strand of photos. Harley glanced in her mother’s direction wearily and stood up straight.

“Ma! That’s gross!”

“Well if you’d let her get out of the car so I could take proper pictures of you two-”

Harley leaned back down to Pam’s level, tuning out her mother.

“So… you gonna take me somewhere in this fancy Cadillac, or did you pull into my driveway to gloat?”

Pam grinned, stepping out of the car to open Harley’s door for her before turning to Sharon.

“I’ll have her home by 11,” the redhead promised. Sharon just snorted as she pulled Pam into a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, honey, I don’t expect you to have her home tonight.”

Pam blushed deeply as Sharon pulled away and kissed her cheek before turning her attention back towards her son.

“Barry, don’t you dare get any ideas, your first car is gonna be a Saturn S.”

“But maaaa!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

When they were finally off, headed towards Founder’s Pier (yes, Gotham Prep’s prom was literally on a yacht), Pam settled her hand on the clutch. Harley looked down, her heart fluttering at the memory.

“Y’still not gonna use your words, Red?” she teased. “I thought we proved how sexy communication is.”

“Harleen,” Pam teased back, casting a glance towards the stunning blonde in her passenger seat. “Would you like to hold my hand?”

Harley smiled and took the hand of the woman beside her, lacing their fingers together and offering a gentle squeeze.

“Love to.”

Pam smiled, turning her face towards the warmth of the setting sun streaming in through the windows. Had it not been for her perfect curls, she surely would have rolled them down.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

They met with the rest of their friends on the deck of The Naomi, the largest ship that Founder’s Pier had ever seen in its tiny harbor, typically littered with nothing but trade ships and fishing boats. But the docks had been scrubbed and the harbor cleared out, and somehow Gotham Prep’s budget had managed the impossible task of eliminating the ever-present smell of fish. It was actually pretty amazing.

Pam tensed a little when Arthur — in a Canadian suit, of all the getups he could have chosen — swooped in and wrapped her in his arms, lifting her toes a good two inches off the ground as he hugged her tightly. But she had discovered a deep-rooted respect for him that disgusted her, and so she smiled when he released her and held his wrist in her hand warmly.

“Good to see you, Curry.” It was almost believable. Then, turning to Mera, she just frowned.

“I’m supposed to be the hot redhead.”

Mera laughed and flung her arms around her old friend.

Harley was busy gushing over Zoe, who was busy gushing over her, all while Tatsu stood by in a dashing, clean-cut three-piece sipping on a glass of punch.

“Oh my god, your hair,” Zoe raved, hands coming up to tuck a strand behind Harley’s ear.

“Is it too much?”

“Too mu- Harley, if you didn’t have a girlfriend already, I’d take you into the nearest bathroom and fuck you myself.”

Tatsu cleared her throat, and Zoe’s cheeks flushed.

“Well, and if I didn’t have a, uh… um… a Tatsu.”

Harley smiled sympathetically and patted her friend’s shoulder.

“I remember this part, it sucks.”

“I remember you going through this part, it sucked for me, too,” Zoe grumbled under her breath. Harley’s gentle pat turned into a firm punch.

“Ouch! Pam, your girlfriend’s fighting me!”

“Is she winning?” Pam asked as she sidled up to Harley and wrapped an arm around the smaller girl’s waist. Harley smiled innocently and leaned into the embrace, her nose turning into the curve of the redhead’s neck naturally. Zoe made a vomiting face.

“Great, so I see you’re going to be insufferable all night with your homosexual shenanigans. Tatsu, shall we dance?”

Harley graciously chose not to point out Zoe’s own homosexual shenanigans, instead turning her body towards Pam and locking her arms around her neck.

“Are you gonna ask me to dance?”

“You’re the top, Harley,” Pam pointed out. Harley punched her girlfriend’s shoulder (much more gently than she had punched Zoe, let the record state) but couldn’t fight the little smile pushing through her faux offense.

“Yeah, but you’re a power bottom. I’m a service top. That means that you’re the pitcher in the streets and the catcher in the sheets.”

“Jesus Christ, Harleen.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Pam gave Harley the ring when the night was winding down. Arthur and Mera had already left, and Zoe and Tatsu were snogging in a dark corner where they thought the teachers couldn’t see. Most of the remaining crowd sat at tables, sipping on the spiked punch or talking with friends. That was when Harley pulled Pam onto the dance floor, insisting that you had to dance to at least one slow song at your senior prom. As they swayed to the music, Pam pulled the little box out and presented it to Harley. The latter's lips parted gently when she opened it and found the little silver band boasting a tiny ruby within. It wasn’t flashy or ostentatious, but really quite simple. She swallowed and looked up at Pam for an explanation.

“It’s not an engagement ring!” Pam burst out suddenly. “I didn’t- god, I didn’t think that through, I am… not asking you to marry me.”

Harley felt some of the feeling return to her fingers as she sighed in relief. She figured if either of them was going to be the impulsive lesbian, it was herself and not Pam. Still, her heart hammered in her chest.

“It’s not a promise ring, either. No strings attached. I don’t have any expectations for us after the summer ends, or when college starts, or when you’re choosing where to go. No expectations at all. This is just a reminder of what we’ve had, and what we’ll have. I don’t love you for your potential or who you might become, I don’t love you for your talents or what I think we could be. I just know that I love you right now, and I want you to have this as a reminder of that. It doesn’t… I didn’t mean for that to come out as heavy as it did.”

Harley, despite Pam’s nervous stammering, understood completely. She took the ring from the box and slipped it over her index finger. She smiled as it slid into a perfect fit — of course Pam had somehow figured out her ring size. She laced her fingers together at the nape of Pam’s neck and gently pulled, bringing their foreheads together.

“Thank you.”

Pam smiled, her thumbs stroking Harley’s hips in soft circles.

“I love you, Harls.”

“I lo-”

Pam surged forward and silenced Harley with a kiss, her heart thumping as she quieted the girl in her arms. And though Harley hadn’t finished her statement, the intention was there, and no amount of backtracking would ever take that away. Pam tried with all her might to pretend she hadn’t heard it as she cupped Harley’s jaw and pulled her into one of the ship’s spotless bathrooms, but Harley’s unfinished sentence was still ringing in her ears as she kissed a line down the column of a pale throat.

Chapter Text

“Oh, god, Harley. Fuck, right there!”

Harley glowed from the praise, picking up the pace as her fingers dug into the sides of Pam’s hips, tongue disappearing inside of the redhead before easing back out to antagonize a swollen clit.

It was June already. Pam had just graduated from Gotham Prep, strutting across the stage in her cap and gown to an uproarious applause with Harley at the helm. Said blonde had even been invited to the celebration dinner at the Isley’s, where she'd repurposed her prom dress (“They’ll never know, Harls, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing you own that's formal enough and wouldn’t give my mother a stroke”). When the guests had all gone home and Grace Isley’s thirst for gossip had been whetted, Harley tugged Pam upstairs, barely slamming the door shut before pushing the redhead up against the wall and hooking a slender leg around her hip. It hadn’t taken very long for them to tumble into bed after that, and that was where they found themselves now.

“Pam,” Harley mumbled against her girlfriend’s clit, unaware of the effect the vibrations had on the taller girl. Pam moaned, hips rolling to meet Harley’s voice. “I— Pam. If you don’t shut the fuck up, your mom is gonna burst in here and see me eatin’ you out.”

“I don’t care,” Pam groaned. Harley chuckled.

“Ya know, Red, I think you do.”

“Harleen, put your tongue back inside me now.”

Harley rolled her eyes before complying.

“Yes, ma’am. Pushy, pushy.”

Harley pretended to be impervious to the way Pam’s fingers knotted in her hair and tugged desperately when she fucked her, but she couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped her lips as Pam’s grip twitched with each thrust. Frankly, Pam could never touch Harley again and the hopeless blonde would be content to carry on eating Pam out forever.

It seemed she’d never have to worry about such a prospect, however, as suddenly Pam was pulling Harley up to meet her lips in a hungry kiss before rolling on top of the catcher with a wicked grin.

“I’m not one for keeping perfect score,” she husked, mimicking Harley from before in the pergola, “but as I recall, it’s your turn.”

Harley looped her arms around Pam’s neck and smirked up at her cheekily, situating herself against the tousled pile of pillows beneath her.

“Lucky me.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was late June. Coach Lawton owned a paint and body shop just five miles up the road from Arkham High, and when Harley had learned he was hiring, she couldn't apply for a summer position fast enough. She barely knew a thing about cars, but she had a handle on motorcycles and was a quick study, so he took her in his stride and taught her what he knew. In just one short week, the blonde was laid back across a creeper seat working on the underside of her neighbor’s trucks and clunkers. Since she was new, she got the morning shift, and every day when she got off at 2 pm, Pam would sprint into the garage and leap into her arms, absolutely fucking drowning her in kisses. Lawton would always shake his head and turn to whatever customer was nearby with a roll of his eyes. He pretended to mind redhead’s distracting presence in the garage, but if he ever noticed a customer grimace in distaste when the pair walked out hand-in-hand, he made sure to fuck something up under their hood.

One day, after a shift at the garage, they sat together on the Quinzel’s porch, Pam drinking coke out of a sweaty glass bottle (the only way to drink a coke) with the radio set to the 80s station, when Harley had an idea.

“Hey, Pammy?”

The redhead’s eyes were closed, her face turned towards the late afternoon sun, but she hummed to let Harley know she was listening. The blonde barreled on.

“Remember how you told me you and your dad were gonna fix up your truck?”

“Mhm,” was the committed reply.

“And you never did?”

Pam cracked an eye open, a humorous smirk at Harley’s expense tugging at the corner of her lips. She closed it again and leaned further back into the porch chair she occupied.

“I remember, Harley. Is there a point?”

“Well, I know all this stuff now — what if we fixed it together?”

Pam’s eyes opened at that, and she sat up in her chair and set her bottle down.

“Baby, that’s… like a real commitment, you know that, right? It's a lot of work.”

Harley shrugged.

“What else am I gonna do? Lawton won’t let me work more than six hours a day, and I really don’t mind it. Hell, if I didn’t wanna work in medicine I think I coulda been a mechanic.”

Pam snorted, but then studied Harley's face thoughtfully as a smug grin stretched across her face. She leaned over and pulled Harley’s chair closer to her own before climbing across and straddling Harley’s lap, fingers immediately carding through blonde tresses. Harley giggled, far past the point of caring who saw them.

“So, you’d work on my car in my garage and get all sweaty and greasy and hot and I just get to stand around and watch?” Pam purred.

“Well, maybe hand me some things every once in a while,” Harley shrugged. “But yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Oh, dear,” Pam sighed melodramatically. "How ever will I pay you back for your services?”

“My starting rate is 40 an hour.”

Pam deadpanned. Harley grinned as her hands fell to her lover’s ass and gave a gentle, apologetic squeeze.

“Kidding!”

So Harley and Pam fixed up the truck.

It took a few weeks of work, but between Harley’s connections at the garage and Pam’s unlimited funds, finding the right replacement parts and a sexy coat of paint wasn’t too hard. Besides, it wasn't like the truck was having any trouble running before. Sometimes Lawton himself would come over and shoo the couple out of the garage to help, insisting Harley ‘needed time with her girl.’ And as June was nearing its end, the truck was all but finished. There was just one thing missing.

“What’r’ya gonna call it?” Harley asked excitedly as she wiped her hands off and hopped into the vehicle’s passenger seat, bouncing excitedly on the brand-new white leather interior. Pam shrugged, sliding into the driver's seat as her thumbs tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel that only she could hear.

“I don’t know. Got any ideas?”

Her eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized her mistake and tried to backtrack.

“Oh god, Harley, do not say pu-”

“PUSSY WAGON!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was July. The fourth came and went — Pam had spent it with the Quinzel’s, since the extent of the celebration in the Isley household was tuning in to PBS to watch the fireworks in Washington DC. Needless to say, Pam had never celebrated a national holiday quite like this before. By the end of the night, Barry was puking behind bushes after losing to Harley in a hotdog eating contest, Nick was trying to put out a small fire in the yard started by a tiki torch battle gone wrong, and Sharon was drunkenly trying to convince everyone that she could still manage to walk in a straight line. Though it was all very humorous to watch, Pam leaned in close to Harley and whispered in her ear.

“My place?”

The lights of Isley home were all off when they stumbled in, Harley pushing Pam into the door as soon as it was shut. She licked greedily at the lingering taste of strawberry daiquiri on Pam’s lips, eliciting a wanton whimper from the redhead. They were so caught up in each other that they almost didn’t register the sudden explosion of light in the room.

Almost.

Blinking, Harley jerked away from Pam as if she’d been electrocuted as the pair found their bearings and looked about the foyer, finding next to the light switch none other than Grace Lillian Isley.

Pamela nearly shat herself.

Harley immediately found herself taking a defensive stance, stepping forward just barely in front of Pam with her arms hanging readily at her side for whatever screaming match was sure to come. But as she studied Grace’s features, she couldn’t help but notice... well, surely fucking not?

Grace was smirking.

“When I was seventeen,” the Isley matriarch spoke, pushing off of the wall and taking a few steady steps forward, “your grandfather sent me away to a boarding school.” She stopped and eyed Harley up and down for a moment or two.

“My Harley's name was Donna.”

Both girls’ jaws fell slack as Grace made her way to the stairs and began to ascend them, offering nothing more by way of explanation than a nonchalant smile over her shoulder. Pam finally found her voice as she called up to her mother, whose back had already turned.

“Sh- Should I tell dad?”

“Oh, he already knows, darling. We knew when Harley put caviar in her water glass and you still invited her back.”

Pam turned and offered a pointed stare to the blonde once they were left alone. Harley bristled.

“You told me they were fish eggs, that was the extent of my fuckin’ knowledge, okay?”

And just like that, Pam was out. It was as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. There wasn’t a huge change, really — Grace Isley still had a stick shoved so far up her ass that Harley could hit a home run with her — but the sneaking around was over. And as such, Pam was free to devise a vacation for herself and Harley without scrutiny. It didn't take long for them to decide on the beach.

Harley took off work for a week and Pam made all the arrangements. They loaded up The Pussy Wagon (alright, Pam was calling her Sally after the song by The Stone Roses, but how fucking boring was that?) and they drove down to Atlantic City, singing along to the radio and pulling along the side of the road when Harley got a little too handsy for proper road safety standards. Pam had rented out the most expensive waterfront beach house Airbnb she could find (seriously, it came with little fucking soaps shaped like seashells in the dishes). They spent their mornings in the kitchen, their afternoons on the beach, and their evenings on the boardwalk, and at night, they gave themselves to each other without a second thought.

On the night before they drove back home to Gotham, Pam fell asleep before Harley did, and the blonde gazed at her lover for what must have been hours. She studied every detail — every freckle, every contour, every dip and ridge and blemish. The sun was just barely beginning to stream in through the lace curtains of their rented room when sleep finally began to settle in her eyes, but before she drifted off, she pressed her lips to the back of a freckled hand and whispered the words she knew Pam wouldn’t allow in a voice so soft, she wasn’t even sure she’d really spoken.

“I love you I love you I love you.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was August. The weather was gradually beginning to cool, and with each day that passed, Harley’s heart sank just a little more. She pretended that she didn’t cross each new day off of her calendar with a bitter stroke. She acted nonchalant when Pam asked for help packing her things into boxes and suitcases, pulling decorations down front the walls and hauling bags out to the local clothing drive. With all her might, she put on a brave face for Pam, because that was what she was supposed to do, because that was what girlfriends were for. And at least for now, that’s what she was — Pam’s girlfriend. For how long, to what extent, it didn’t really matter.

With every box that was taped shut and every bag zipped closed, she would fiddle with the little silver ring on her finger, pinching the ruby and wishing sometimes she’d never met Pamela Isley.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was time.

Grace and David Isley would not be driving their daughter to college, as there was only room in Sally for two passengers along with everything Pam would be taking with her to Western State. Pam and Harley would drive down together and spend the night. Pam didn’t have a roommate, seeing as she was staying in the most expensive dorm on campus and could afford such luxuries, so the couple could share a proper goodbye. Afterward, Harley would hop on a plane back to Gotham and that would be that.

The beginning of the drive was nice. Really, it was. At first, it felt a lot like the drive to the beach had felt in the middle of the summer when they still had time and everything was perfect. They stopped at roadside diners and Harley ordered her usual strawberry milkshake, tying the stem of the cherry on top into a knot with her tongue. They bought snacks for the road and traded off at gas stations and stopped to gaze at the stars for a bit when it got dark, huddling close even though it was too hot. But then Pam fell asleep in the passenger seat while Harley was at the wheel, leaving the blonde alone with her thoughts and the clear night sky. And when the sun rose and Pam took over in the driver’s seat, the tone had shifted.

Kansas was incredibly boring, was all Harley could think as they drove into Keystone City at last around midday. They stopped to eat, but neither really spoke much — they both knew they were just delaying the inevitable. After covering the bill, they quietly got back in the car and made their way to campus.

When Harley had finished lugging everything up to Pam’s new room, the sun was setting through the blinds. She only looked at Pam and they fell into each other’s arms, desperate and hungry and passionate and loving and everything they’d come to associate with the other. Hours later, lying naked in the sheets Pam had hastily thrown onto the bed in anticipation for such a goodbye, Harley buried her face into the crook of her lover’s neck and sucked in a shaky breath.

“Pam?”

Pam gazed up at the ceiling — the new ceiling that was hers, but didn’t feel like hers. She felt a pang of want for something she couldn't quite place as she traced her fingers across Harley’s bare shoulder.

“Yeah?”

A drop of water landed on her shoulder and she knew that Harley was crying. But the blonde still spoke clearly, shifting around so she could put her ear over Pam's heart.

“I love you, too.”

Pam pulled Harley impossibly closer, screwing her eyes shut.

“I know, baby.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning, Harley zipped up the small duffle she’d brought as her luggage, the same Arkham High duffle that she’d used for softball practice. Had the season really only ended four months ago? It felt like a lifetime, and yet like no time at all. She set the bag by the door and stuffed her hands in her back pockets, turning towards Pam and preparing herself for the inescapable. Pam’s jaw was clenched tight.

“Pammy,” Harley started softly, taking the redhead’s hand in hers. “You know I can’t expect you to wait for me. You have your whole life to live laid out in front of you, it would be ridiculous for me to try and keep you all to myself.”

“You could come here,” Pam offered weakly, before realizing how selfish it sounded. Harley just offered a gentle smile, tucking a strand of red hair behind Pam's ear.

“My place is in Gotham. With my family, my dad, I have to take care of him now. And my mom and Barry, they’ve always needed me.”

Pam knew. So she sighed and looked down at the floor.

“I want you to keep Sally.”

Harley blinked a little, taken aback.

“What?”

“Unless you just really can’t stand driving back to Gotham," Pam continued. "I was planning on buying a new car here anyway and I… just, you can give it to Barry or something, I don’t know. I want you to keep her.”

Harley knew refusing Pam’s offer would just be a stab to the heart, so she nodded softly and pulled Pam into a warm embrace.

“Okay, honey, I’ll take her. I’ll take good care of her.”

Pam nuzzled her nose into Harley's hair and picked up the faint trace of peach-scented shampoo. She was hanging by a thread as Harley drew back and gazed back at her with those crystal-blue doe eyes.

“Do you regret it?” Harley asked. Pam smiled just a little, her thumb smoothing over the back of Harley's hand.

“Not a bit.”

Harley nodded, lifting Pam’s hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Don’t break too many hearts, Isley. It's a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Pam laughed and stepped closer into Harley.

“I hope you break everyone’s heart and then some, Quinzel.”

And she kissed her one last time.

Chapter Text

[9 years later]

Harley rolled her shoulders back for the third time that evening and stirred her Old Fashioned with the tip of a perfectly manicured pinky. If someone had told a teenaged Harleen Quinzel that in ten years’ time she’d be going to a salon twice a month for mani-pedis and French tips, she surely would have cracked their nose with a softball bat. And yet, here she sat — fresh out of med school in tight black jeans, a silky blue button-down, and her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, with perfectly lacquered nails and the swagger to match. She took in a deep, steadying breath. It wasn’t that the blonde was nervous, it had just been a while. Harley had changed. Surely they both had. She fiddled with the tiny silver band around her index finger, stroking the ruby as she had so many times before, comforted by the familiarity of the action.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” came a familiar voice from behind Harley, and all her anxieties immediately melted away. She turned in her barstool to find Selina Kyle standing there with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Harleen Quinzel, you look hot!”

Harley grinned and stood up to wrap the older woman in a tight hug, humming out a long sigh as she did so.

“Kitty, it’s so good to see you.”

Selina pulled back and gestured for them to sit, sliding into the seat beside Harley’s and throwing up a hand to wave down the bartender.

“An Irish car bomb, and keep ‘em coming,” the brunette said to the young man behind the counter as she shrugged off her jacket and turned back to Harley.

“God, Harls,” she smiled. “You look really great. You look so old!”

Harley scowled, taking a quick sip of her drink from the tiny black straw poking out of the glass.

“Don’t remind me,” she grumbled. “I’m already getting crows feet. Crows feet! In my twenties!”

Selina snorted and shook her head, turning toward the drink set before her as the bartender slid the shot glass into her pint.

“Well, you’re always gonna be the little eight-year-old kid who couldn’t hold a bat to save her life,” the ex-coach placated. “God, honey, it’s been, what? Two, three years?”

“Four,” Harley corrected a little too quickly, raising her glass to her lips and polishing it off before thumping it back down on the counter. “You haven’t been in town since undergrad graduation.”

Selina blew a raspberry and knocked into Harley’s shoulder playfully, successfully pacifying the blonde. Harley giggled and raised her hand to the bartender, indicating for a second.

“So,” Selina continued, “I heard your dad’s in complete remission? All clean?”

Harley nodded with a closed smile.

“All clean, thank god. Dad just doesn’t know how to give up.”

“Nah, Nick never did,” Selina attested. “And Barry? He’s out of college now already, right?”

Harley’s face lit up suddenly as she hid her mouth in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, god, ‘Lina, you’ll never believe it. Do you remember Diana Prince?”

“Fuck yeah, I remember Diana!” Selina gushed. “Best damn hitter I ever saw.”

Harley’s eyes narrowed, and the brunette jumped to correct herself.

“On the Ivies! Best hitter for the Ivies I ever saw.”

“Right,” Harley glared. “Anyway, she and Barry are engaged.”

Selina spewed her chaser across the bar before her, earning her reasonable glare from the bartender as he thwipped out his towel to wipe away the mess. After she’d remembered how to breathe, she turned to Harley.

“Barry?”

Harley nodded gleefully.

“Engaged to Diana Prince?”

Harley nodded harder, biting her lip but failing to conceal the grin pushing against her efforts.

“I know! And you remember Zoe and Tatsu, obviously.”

Selina’s eyes bugged as she shook her head.

“No.”

“They’re totally married.”

“No!”

Harley laughed as a brand new Old Fashioned was placed before her, reveling in Selina’s animated responses to Gotham’s latest.

“God,” the brunette sighed after their laughter had died down. “It feels so weird to be back here and realize that life just kinda goes on after you leave a place. Y’know, sometimes I do kinda wish I’d stuck around.”

She finished her pint and caught the tiny shot glass as it slid out, setting both empty glasses on the counter in front of her.

“But I had to get outta Gotham. Not everyone’s made to stick around. Not like you, babygirl.”

“Yeah,” Harley sighed wistfully, tipping the rest of her drink back and setting the empty glass down on the bar a little harder than she’d intended. “What can I say? Gotham streets are paved with soul.”

“They’re paved with shit and cardboard signs,” Selina quipped. “But never mind that. Seriously, Harls, look at you. You look great. You look happy. Are you happy?”

Harley smiled a little, her eyes fixating on the grain of the wooden counter. She started to chew on one of her nails before remembering her next appointment wasn’t until next week.

“Yeah. I mean, sure. Things are great. I’m just… tired, I guess? I knew this would be a lot of work, I just wish it wasn’t drawn out so long.”

“Oh my god, that’s right!” Selina gasped suddenly. “How does it feel to be ‘Doctor Harleen Quinzel’?”

Harley snorted.

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not a doctor yet. I still have four years of residency before anyone will even consider hiring me.”

“Jesus.” Selina’s eyes rolled a little, exaggerated by the Irish stout warming her veins as she gestured to the bartender for another. “Maybe you should’ve been a mechanic.”

Harley hummed thoughtfully.

“So what do they call you now, then?” Selina prodded. “If not doctor?”

The blonde straightened up a little at the question, evidently proud to boast of her brand-new achievement as she feigned a humble disposition. A coy smile played on her lips.

“Harleen Quinzel, M.D.”

The ex-coach grinned, leaning forward and poking Harley in the ribs.

“Atta girl! And does Harleen Quinzel, M.D. have a Mrs. Harleen Quinzel, M.D.?”

“What, you mean like, am I married?”

“Not literally, dumbass, I mean are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh, Kitty, I’m flattered,” Harley teased, “but you were never really my type.”

“Shut the fuck up, you little shit, I’m everyone’s type.”

Harley snickered before giving the brunette her undivided attention.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. Had my heart broken once or twice, had my fair share of one-night-stands, but I haven’t really had time to date since I started med.”

Selina nodded thoughtfully, picking her phone up to type out a short text as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So now is when a polite person would ask me if I’m seeing anyone.”

Harley rolled her eyes, but she played along.

“Are you seeing anyone, Selina?”

“As a matter of fact,” the brunette confirmed, chest puffing out with pride, “I happen to be celebrating my ten year anniversary with a certain gentleman tonight.”

“Oh my god, Kitty,” Harley laughed. “We all knew you were fucking Coach Wayne, that’s how you got the job at Gotham Prep.”

Selina’s jaw dropped as she sputtered.

“I- you- I got that job because I was a damn good coach, Harleen!”

Harley graciously stifled her laughter and nodded, patting Selina’s arm softly.

“Uhuh. So, when’s the wedding?”

“October sixteenth and you’re my maid of fucking honor. Fuck you.”

Harley chortled as Selina’s phone began to buzz on the bar. The brunette straightened, lifting her chin in a failed attempt at dignity.

“This is my event planner, actually. I gotta go. Can you keep yourself entertained until I come back, or should I find a replacement sitter?”

“Selina,” Harley glared, “I’m not eight years old anymore.”

Selina made a face as she stood up.

“That can’t be true.”

She pressed accept on the call and held her phone to her ear, scurrying to the exit and leaving Harley alone with her drink.

Harley finally eased back in her seat, letting her tensing muscles relax. She didn’t know why she’d been so nervous to see Selina after four years, but she was glad to have a moment to compose herself. Her phone buzzed on the table and she smiled when she saw an incoming text from Barry. Unlocking the device, she saw he’d sent a picture of him and Diana from their vacation in Belize.

Thinking of you! Tell Kitty/Coach S hi from her favorite little brother and her favorite hitter. Wish you were here — it’s un-Belize-able!

Harley smiled, letting the “favorite hitter” comment slide before sending back a heart emoji. Her phone buzzed again in her hand, only this time it was a text from Selina herself.

got caught up w/ planner. reschedule for breakfast tomorrow? we’re gonna have a lot to talk about.

Harley chuckled to herself. Really, she wasn’t a bit surprised. She laid a couple of bills on the counter of the bar, smiling her thanks to the exhausted bartender, and slid her phone in her pocket. Just as she was slinging her purse over her shoulder and preparing to leave, however, a new character slid into the seat beside her where Selina had been. Harley glanced over at the newcomer and felt her jaw go slack.

“Vodka martini, Matt,” the woman ordered, seemingly oblivious to Harley’s presence. Harley wasn’t sure if she was being ignored or if she simply just hadn’t been noticed. Perhaps, after all these years, she was unrecognizable?
As the drink was settled before the woman, Harley found her voice.

“Pam?”

The realization behind forest green eyes made it clear to Harley that she had not, in fact, been noticed until now. As Pamela Isley turned her gaze to one Harleen Quinzel, she felt her throat tighten.

“Harley.”

Harley didn’t really know what the etiquette here was. It had been nearly a decade since they’d seen each other, and yet nothing about the woman sitting beside her was unfamiliar. She recognized each freckle, every contour, and the little crease between Pam’s eyes, though a little more defined than it had been all those years ago, was exactly where she’d remembered it. Taking in a steadying breath, she forced herself to think before letting any words spew out of her mouth — a skill she’d been working on for the past nine years. And what did the grandmaster of thinking before speaking come up with?

“Hi.”

Pam sat unchanging for a moment, her mouth slightly agape in surprise, before suddenly breaking into a face-splitting grin.

“Harleen fucking Quinzel.”

“M.D.,” Harley added before she could stop herself. Pam didn’t seem to mind, taking the first sip of her martini and smiling pleasantly before correcting herself.

“Harleen Quinzel, M.D.. Now that does have a ring to it.” Then, she extended her hand as if introducing herself for the first time.

“Dr. Pamela Isley.”

Harley took Pam’s hand without thinking. When their palms touched, she suddenly wished she had. Pam’s hands were just as delicately soft as she remembered, with the exception of a few new calluses, but even those were weathered and smooth as a skipping stone. Harley pulled back a little too quickly, and Pam quirked a brow.

“Sorry,” Harley mumbled. She gestured to the bartender and he came over.

“Can you open my tab back up, please?” she asked under her breath.

His eyes darted between the two women and he seemed to understand.

“Another Old Fashioned?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harley confirmed. Then, after thinking it over, “actually, make it a gin on the rocks.”

As the bartender walked away to prepare the drink, Harley turned back to see Pam smiling into her glass.

“What’s so funny?” Harley pressed, and Pam just shook her head.

“I guess I never took you for a straight gin kind of gal.”

“Yeah, well,” the blonde huffed. “I’ve changed some since you last saw me.”

“I see that,” Pam nodded, eyeing her up and down. “You look… really…”

“Bitchy?”

“Grown up,” Pam corrected. “You look so grown up.”

“Yeah, well. I am twenty-six.”

“Jesus, is that how long it’s been?”

Harley smiled for the first time since Pam sat down, eagerly wrapping her fingers around the base of the glass set before her, grateful for something to do with her hands.

“Seems like ages, huh?” she asked.

“Not to me,” Pam shook her head. “Seems like yesterday.”

Harley nodded. It seemed like ages and yesterday, too.

“So,” Pam sighed, turning her knees ever so slightly in the other woman’s direction. “Have you seen Selina?”

Harley’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah, Selina was just here. We were getting drinks together.”

“That’s weird,” Pam pondered. “She asked me here to get drinks with her tonight, too.”

Realization dawned on the women at the same time. Harley was the first to laugh. When Pam joined her, the redhead’s arm extended just slightly, looking for a moment as if she might place her palm on the blonde’s thigh as she had so many times years before. But she sobered suddenly and pulled her hand back into her own lap. Harley pretended she hadn’t noticed. It could have been nothing.

Right?

“You do look good, Harley,” Pam finally said after they had settled again. “You must be so proud of yourself.”

Harley chuckled a little at that. She always thought it was so funny when people told her how proud she should be.

“Well, you look great, too, Dr. Isley.”

“Oh, god,” Pam groaned with a wince. “Please do not call me fucking ‘Dr. Isley’.”

“What?” Harley giggled. “You don’t like it? Me, I can’t wait to be Dr. Quinzel.”

Pam looked up from her drink at that, not at all surprised.

“Dr. Quinzel does sound nice.”

Harley felt her cheeks warm and she diverted her attention downward, tapping her nails softly against the varnished wood of the bar. When she looked up, Pam’s gaze was still on her.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Pam asked when their eyes met.

Harley smiled.