The girls pulled into the Isleys' garage, and Harley saw Pam take a quick mental tally of the vehicles present, followed by a tiny, almost unnoticeable nod of satisfaction.

But Harley noticed. Harley noticed everything.

They got out of the car and met by the rear bumper. Pam took both of Harley's hands in hers gently, almost shyly, and they grinned at each other. Pam cleared her throat. "Now . . ." she began, "I would make this all romantic, have you close your eyes and do a big reveal, but somehow I feel like we've done that before."

She leaned close, trapping Harley's hands between their bodies, her lips brushing the sensitive outer shell of Harley's ear, starting at the lobe and slowly trailing up, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "So I'll just tell you, Harley. I am going to take you to the most special place in the world to me – my greenhouse –" here, she smoothly maneuvered them so that Harley was pressed between Pam's body and the car, flicked her tongue teasingly against Harley's ear, continued speaking in a rough whisper – "and I'm going to lift you up on the counter, surrounded by my beloved plants . . ."

Now Pam trailed her lips down to the sensitive spot right behind Harley's ear, then further down to just below her jawbone, where she sucked gently, turning Harley to jelly in her arms, before whispering one devastating final line: ". . . and then, my beautiful Harley, I'm going to get on my knees for you."

"Fuck, Pam!" Harley squeaked, then quickly pulled a hand free and clapped it over her mouth. Amusement battled arousal in Pam's green eyes – and then she quirked an eyebrow and jerked her head toward the greenhouse, questioningly.

Harley giggled, pushed Pam back half a step, and took off at a light jog, amazed that her legs still worked at all.

She got to the greenhouse and went to fling the door open – only to be stopped (of course) by what looked like a space-age lock. Harley put her hands on her hips and turned around, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes in frustration.

Pam stood calmly in the doorway of the garage, leaning casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She smirked at Harley and shrugged.

"Pamela," Harley said slowly, evenly, doing her best to play Pam's game and stay calm despite the sparks of energy shooting through her body, "could you please come open the space-lock?"

Even as far apart as they were, Harley could see the look of confusion that appeared briefly on Pam's face, wrinkling her perfect forehead and flashing across her green eyes for a split second before realization dawned. "Ah," she said in that sultry voice that Harley heard in her dreams every night, "you mean the passcode for the greenhouse door." She straightened from her position in the doorway and walked closer, taking her sweet-ass time and (Harley thought) accentuating the natural sway of her hips on purpose, as if Harley wasn't enough of a drooling mess already.

When Pam was a step away, she leaned in. Harley let her eyes drift closed, already imagining the feel of Pam's soft lips against hers . . . but then she heard the beep-boop of the keypad and realized Pam was keying in the code to the greenhouse.

Harley opened her eyes. They were so close that she could feel the warmth of Pam's body, and as the redhead pushed open the greenhouse door with a flourish, she grinned in a way that told Harley she knew exactly what she was doing to her.

She cleared her throat. "What's the code?" she said hoarsely, suddenly curious. But Pam just blushed and said "After you," then slipped her hand into Harley's as the blonde turned and pulled her into the greenhouse.

"Right over there," Pam said in Harley's ear, steering her toward a slightly recessed alcove with a firm but gentle hand on her hip. Harley gulped when she saw the counter, remembering Pam's whispered words next to the car, and Pam's answering chuckle was warm against the back of her neck.

"Nice plants," Harley said absently.

"Yes, they are," said Pam, releasing her hold on Harley and stepping past her to carefully slide plants around, clearing a distinctly Harley-sized gap on the counter. She must have guessed that Harley was suppressing a laugh because she continued without even turning: "Well, I'm just trying to do my part to help the environment. Preserving these rare specimens is only a start."

Now the giggle burst out of Harley, despite her best efforts. "Truth or dare?" she said, and Pam turned to her and crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter and (Harley thought) doing her best to look scary.

"Harleen, are you implying that I was on my 'environmentalism high horse' just now?" she said, narrowing her eyes a little.

"Mmm, I'm not implyin' anything," said Harley, closing the gap between them, putting both of her hands on the edge of the counter so that Pam was caught in a gentle trap. She nuzzled into Pam's neck and pressed her body against her, ever so lightly, grinning against Pam's throat when she felt the redhead's pulse quicken there. "I'm straight-up sayin' Mother Nature's Chosen Protector is walking among us." She lightly kissed the hollow at the base of Pam's throat. "But . . .that's all right. . ." she trailed her lips gently up Pam's neck, rested them just barely against Pam's lips, "I love it when Dr. Isley comes to play."

Pam managed to sneak her arms out from between their bodies and wrap them snugly around Harley's waist, but when she tried to deepen the kiss, Harley pulled back just enough, teasing. "Uh-uh, Red. Truth . . . or dare?"

She could sense Pam's hesitation and guessed that her girl probably felt too vulnerable for 'truth' right now, so Harley quickly said, "How 'bout I just dare you to follow through on what you said by the car?"

Pam looked right at her then, and Harley thought she could see in those green eyes relief, and surprise, and turned-on-ness, and . . . something more?

But then Pam was smoothly reversing their positions, pinning Harley against the counter, and the moment was gone. Eh, this is also a super-awesome moment, so I'll roll with it, Harley thought, right before Pam's lips claimed hers.

"It's not fair," Pam said when they broke apart for a quick breath. She leaned her forehead against Harley's, breathing heavily.

"What, babe?" said Harley, tightening her grip on Pam's shoulders just a little.

"Well, you get to call 'truth or dare' on me whenever I get conceited . . . but we don't have a truth or dare trigger for you yet," Pam said, lazily twirling a blonde pigtail around her finger. (Harley was suddenly glad that she'd redone her signature hairstyle when they dropped the boys off after the haunted house.)

"Hmm," said Harley, sliding her fingers down under the back of Pam's tank top, feeling the warm skin between her shoulder blades, grinning as her touch made the other girl shiver. "Should it be . . . every time I giggle?"

Pam looked mock-thoughtful. "No, we can't have you playing Truth or Dare every five seconds."

Harley scoffed and twisted her mouth up in a fake pout, which Pam quickly kissed away. "For the same reason . . ." Pam said, gripping Harley by the hips and smoothly hoisting her onto the counter, making her gasp, "we can't have your thing be 'making Pam's heart beat faster.'"

It took Harley a second to process what she was saying. When it hit her, she started to say "Aww," but was cut off when Pam's lips met hers again, her kiss both gentle and intense in a way that made Harley's head swim. "We'll . . . just keep brainstorming," she managed to gasp out as she felt Pam's fingers skim lightly beneath the edge of her faded jeans. Harley lifted her hips instinctively so that Pam could slide the pants down to her ankles in one smooth, confident motion. Then, after a bit of fumbling to remove shoes and socks, Pam got them off the rest of the way.

She stood back up, and the light from the heat lamps lit up her hair, and Harley knew she was probably staring with a stupid look on her face but come on, wouldja just look at her!

And judging by the way she was arching an eyebrow, her lips set in an amused line, Pam knew exactly what Harley was thinking.

Then she slid her fingers up the inside of Harley's thighs, lightly stroked her through her panties while her eyes burned into Harley's, and there was no more thinking.

Harley arched against Pam's fingers, pulled her close by the hips, wrapped her legs around her waist – she had this sudden craving to press every inch of her skin against Pam. "Please," she whispered, not even sure what she was begging for until Pam leaned into her and kissed her again, hard, still touching Harley gently with one hand as she sucked on her bottom lip, then skimmed her tongue gently along it.

The other hand slid smoothly under Harley's t-shirt, perfect fingernails trailing up her rib cage before flipping Harley's bra up to give Pam full access, stroking and caressing the sensitive flesh until Harley was sure she was going to burst into flames right there. She hoped she wouldn't take all of Pam's beautiful plants with her when she went.

When Pam's fingers slipped past the elastic of Harley's panties at the inside of her thigh, they both moaned. "God, Harley," Pam breathed, pulling back so Harley could see how dark her eyes were, how wet and swollen her lips were, "you're so . . . can I–"

"You gonna make me say 'please' again or what?" Harley said, sounding way more in control than she felt. Pam nipped at her lip in response before slowly kneeling on the greenhouse floor, tugging until Harley obligingly lifted her hips once more.

Later, when their positions were somewhat reversed (now Harley had Pam backed up against the counter, her mom jeans around her knees), they both heard the screech of tires. Harley froze, listening, but Pam jumped into action, bending over to yank up her jeans and flipping Harley's socks up to her one at a time.

"Pam," Harley said, but Pam had moved on from flinging articles of clothing to attempting to smooth out her hair, to make herself presentable. Harley had the fleeting thought that she was going to run out to face her parents alone, leaving Harley to – curl up in the greenhouse for the night?

"Pam!" she said, more insistently. The redhead whirled to look at her, irritation flashing across her flawless features before they softened. Harley reached out her hands, and Pam slowly took them. "It's not your mom," Harley said quietly. "I don't think she'd risk peeling into your driveway like that."

"It must be that damn Barry Allen kid," Pam muttered darkly. "He's always speeding around the neighborhood." She craned her neck as if she'd somehow be able to spot him over the Isley manor.

Harley sighed. "You know, at some point we're gonna have to talk about this," she said, trying to sound offhand and failing miserably. She let Pam's hands fall, turned to the counter and started going through the pile of clothes Pam had tossed up to her, pulling each item on once she had it right-side-out.

She was tugging her jeans pants back up over her hips when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, another sliding around to her stomach, warm lips on the back of her neck. "How about now?" Pam said. Harley shrugged, and Pam turned her around so they were face to face. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," Harley said, leaning into Pam, relieved that they were talking and still worried she'd say the wrong thing. "After today, hanging out with your friends, I feel like I shouldn't even bring this up, but–"

"It's bothering you that I still haven't told my parents about us," Pam finished for her.

"Yes!" Harley exclaimed, looking up at her wide-eyed. "How did you – I mean, you're smart, but that's twice just now that I feel like you read my mind."

Pam smiled and did that thing again where she twirled one of Harley's pigtails around her finger – she must know that it makes me melt, Harley thought.

"Harley," said Pam, "you seem to think that my not telling them is a reflection of how I feel about you. But it's not." Harley bit her lip to keep from blurting out a thousand questions, and Pam went on. "Um, the code to the greenhouse? From before?" She sighed, blushing faintly and ducking her head a little. "It's 08-28—for the first day of school…when I saw you for the first time. When I felt so inconvenienced having to share my syllabus with you…" she trailed her finger down Harley's cheek. "That was also the day I first imagined your lips on mine, your body pressed against me…" Pam said, tracing Harley's jawline, holding her gaze, "you basically hold the key to my secret garden." She managed to keep a straight face just a split second longer than Harley did, and after they caught their breath from the laughing fit Pam twined their fingers together. "Harley . . . you can always talk to me."

Harley nodded. She didn't feel like it was resolved, but she didn't want to force the issue, or make Pam feel like she had to choose between her and her parents, or seem desperate, or – most of all – to risk losing her if it kept being a sore subject between them.

"Like in the locker room," she said.

Pam considered a moment, and then smiled. "Exactly. Like that time we talked honestly about your feelings in the locker room. Although this time –" here she got that look on her face, and her hands started wandering, and Harley knew she was about to be swept away again – "I'm even more grateful that we can talk about these things in private."

/

Talia allowed herself a happier smile than what she was accustomed to, nodding at Harley as the girl changed. Obviously, she would have rather placed first herself, but seeing Selina get knocked from the top spot turned out to be satisfying regardless.

Talia wasn't completely sure what to make of this Harley girl. She was different from the rest of them. She was a genuinely happy person. Her smiles weren't fake, and you got the feeling that when she complimented you, she really meant it. She wasn't evil or even cruel…so why she was dating Pamela Isley, Talia had no idea. The Queen Bee of intellectual elitism, the ultimate unattainable mean girl.

…Although, Talia supposed, the fact that she was now dating Harley might explain why she was "unattainable" for so long. Either way, it was a strange coupling. Talia understood the whole "opposites attract" concept, but this felt like an extreme. Not that any of this was her place. Pamela Isley had never been a friend of hers, nor an enemy, really. Sure, Talia found it a bit annoying how thoroughly Bruce seemed to enjoy the redhead's company…but the girl was pleasant to look at, so Talia supposed she could let that one slide.

Talia had just received an "I'm outside" text from her sister when she remembered that Coach Kane had asked her to lock up her office. So she turned on her heels, heading back past Harley and shutting herself into the office. Coach Kane kept her office key in the top drawer of her desk, so—

"Hey, I'm really sorry I—"

Talia stopped short of the desk at the sound of Harley's voice. Phone call?

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

No, that's Selina. I thought she'd left. Talia tiptoed back to the door, pulling the blinds apart just enough to peer out of. Yes, there was Harley, sitting on the bench, still lacing up her sneakers…and there was Selina, standing over her, arms crossed.

Talia wasn't totally sure why she was interested in this exchange…maybe she wanted to see them fight, maybe she wanted to see the aftermath of Selina's humbling.

"I just…Sometimes it's hard competing against a teammate, ya know?" Harley's tone was apologetic. "And your routine looked so good too, must have been a chalk problem."

Talia breathed out a scoff. "Jesus, take credit, Harley."

"No." Selina shook her head. "It was a grip problem. I'm not going to blame an inanimate object for my failures."

Talia rolled her eyes. "Oh, how noble."

"And it's pretty cool that we locked up first and second place for our school." For some reason Harley seemed to still desperately want to please her.

"Lost cause," Talia mumbled.

But now Selina was grinning. That sadistic, self-satisfied smile that Talia had learned to recognize and to fear. "It sure is. And finishing first…I guess you and Pam do have something in common after all."

"What's that now?" Harley asked.

Yeah, she and Talia were in the same boat there. What's she talking about?

"I mean when I took Pam's virginity last year." Selina clarified. "I seem to remember her finishing first. Just like you!" She stalked over to the door of the locker room, then turned back, a hard smile firmly in place. "Congratulations on your win."

Talia's jaw hit the floor. Wait, what? Selina and Pamela? But…Selina was with Bruce last year. It eventually clicked as she watched Harley slump, defeated, on the bench: Selina had cheated on Bruce with Pamela Isley.

Talia's heart rate began to accelerate, and it didn't calm down when Pamela actually entered the locker room. Talia felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but ignored it. Nyssa could wait. She'd have to, actually, as there was no way out for Talia now, especially as Harley and Pamela seemed to have entered into an argument.

"Harley – I – what's going on?" Pamela looked confused by Harley's closed off body-language. She obviously wasn't aware of the bomb Selina had just dropped on Harley. Though Talia wasn't totally sure why the blonde looked so hurt, unless Harley was offended on Bruce's behalf (as she should be).

"Go, Pam." Oh, no Harley wasn't just hurt. She was angry. "Go meet Selina. Fucking nod at her, or take her back to your place, or whatever you two feel like doing. I don't care anymore."

Ouch

Talia expected Pamela to spit something nasty at the girl, flip her hair and walk away. But she—she didn't. She just stood there, looking broken, her expression and posture holding none of their usual confidence.

Harley raised her voice: "Selina is a lot of things, Pam, but at least she's not a fucking liar. I hope you had fun slumming it with me. Guess it wasn't as special as you pretended, but hey – at least you got to see how the other half lives."

OK, so now Talia was invested. Come on, girls. Would it kill you to share a little context?

"Keep the car," was Harley's final line.

Jesus, did Isley buy her a car?

But Pamela still wasn't retreating, and she still didn't look angry. Just…sad. "No," she said, after a long moment of silence. "Don't be petulant, Harley. Tell me plainly what's bothering you. I'm told that's how people navigate relationships."

Talia furrowed her brow, leaning closer to the window, careful not to make a noise but wanting a better look at the redhead.

"Oh yeah?" was Harley's response. "Were you also told not to lie? Because that's usually a deal-breaker."

Huh…Talia wouldn't have expected Harley to be one to take such a hard stance. Perhaps she'd underestimated her. But then Pamela took the blonde's hands, looking intently into her eyes, and for a minute—Talia got it.

"You—you lied to me. About you and Selina. You lied, Pam." Harley had clearly lost her edge.

That was quick. Talia bit her cheek to keep from laughing. But then she was too confused by the look of utter shame on Pamela's face to really pay attention to what they were saying. Pamela was apologizing for something, saying she was afraid Harley wouldn't want her if she knew.

Knew what? Was being with Selina really so bad? I mean, obviously, yes. But Talia was under the impression that they were best friends.

Harley was apologizing now too, and they were kissing. Gently. Sweetly. And…it was odd, seeing how Pamela wrapped the other girl in her arms. Talia shifted uncomfortably, averting her gaze, waiting for them to leave.

It was another minute or two before Pamela grabbed Harley's duffel bag from the bench and followed the blonde out of the locker room, leaving Talia alone, finally.

The brunette quickly made her way over to the desk and grabbed the key, exiting and locking her coach's office door behind her.

Nyssa was waiting…on her motorcycle, which made Talia roll her eyes. "You couldn't take the car?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," her sister replied, handing her a helmet. "And you're late."

"Yes…I know…" Talia said, a sly smile stretching her lips.

Nyssa raised an eyebrow. "Anything to report?"

"Yes," Talia took the helmet. "But it can wait until we get home, as I'm not sure it's worth incurring Father's wrath."