Soft Christmas music was humming through the old fashioned radio Harley had received from Ozzie on her birthday. Unfortunately, that and the remains of a candy cane melting away in her hot cocoa were the only signs that Christmas was almost upon them in their cramped apartment.
Harley surveyed the living room, hands on her hips. The walls were bare, save for the nasty looking vines slowly crawling up the walls. There was no point celebrating Christmas if she couldn't decorate, was there?
Last year, right before that shopping spree with Bruce Wayne, Harley had begged Red to get a tree to celebrate the season. To say she threw a fit would be an understatement. However, she hadn't said anything about lights, had she? Or tinsel. Or ornaments. Or candles.
She set down her cocoa, a wide grin spreading across her face. So much to do, so little time.
Pamela walked into her and Harley's shared apartment, a mere five hours after she had first left to run a few 'errands'. Based on the display she saw, Pam couldn't help but wonder if she was currently under the influence of Jonathan Crane's infamous toxin.
Festive lights were on display on almost every inch of flat surface in the apartment. In addition to that, tinsel was strewn in unlikely places, such as the TV, ceiling fan, and Harley's own balance beam. As Pamela dropped her bag in shock, it knocked aside a few errant decorative ornaments.
"Ta-da!" Harley yelled, leaping from behind their sofa. She was wearing two Santa hats that had been sewn together in a good imitation of her usual harlequin hood. The hats had bells attached to the tip, which jingled as Harley tiptoed her way across the fiercely decorated room.
"Our bedroom looks even betta'." Harley insisted. "D'ya like it?"
'Like' was an understatement. Dr. Pamela Isley was not a woman well known for her composure, a reputation gained over years of murdering men and women who dared to get in her way, or pissed her off.
With Harley, though, she could be better. She had to be better.
"I love it." she lied through her teeth. Harley beamed and leapt forward to kiss her. Pamela held up a finger before their lips could make contact. "However, if there is even a trace of tinsel in this house come December 26th, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
Harley rolled her eyes and pushed forward to kiss her girlfriend.