Our two favorite girls throw a party!
With fluff and surprises and WHY DID I MAKE KATE KANE SO AWKWARD OMG
"Um – maybe because you look like a flight attendant?"
"Wha – this is a very nice button-down blouse!" Pam said, one hand on her hip.
Harley walked over to her, grinning, and patted her on the cheek. "And that, my beautiful Dr. Isley, is exactly why you need to change your outfit. Because you actually just said the word blouse."
It was 30 minutes before their guests were supposed to arrive, and Pam wanted everything to be – oh, fuck it, she wanted everything to be perfect. Harley had finally talked her into throwing a party at their small apartment, although cooler heads (Pam's) had prevailed and they'd at least postponed it until the next weekend.
Harley insisted that this was an important step for them, and Pam supposed there was some merit in that. It just felt like such a big step, and so soon. She would have preferred more time to discover who they were as a couple in their own little bubble, without having to deal with other people.
But then, most of Pam's plans didn't involve other people, and most of Harley's did.
So now the crudités were cut, the white wine was chilled, and two trays of hors d'oeuvres were due to come out of the oven any minute now. Pam just needed to take out her curlers, touch up her makeup . . . and apparently, change her entire outfit.
"What are you going to wear?" she huffed.
Harley shrugged and snagged a carrot. "This," she said with a crunch and a grin, hopping up on the kitchen counter and swinging her feet.
"Your Ramones t-shirt and jeans?" Pam said.
"Look," said Harley, gesturing with the carrot, "these people know me. They know I wear t-shirts and jeans. The invitations didn't specify black tie only." She beckoned, and Pam came closer, nestling between Harley's legs and resting her hands on her thighs.
"That's because the invitations were a text message from you that said P-4-R-T-Y with five exclamation points," Pam grumbled without any real heat.
"Yeah!" said Harley. "And everyone RSVP'ed yes!" She reached over and got herself a drink of water from the sink so she wouldn't spit carrots on Pam, then leaned her forehead against Pam's, looking into her eyes very seriously, and said: "I know you're going all Good Housekeeping on me right now. And I love you for it. How about this: I will go change into something less comfortable if you promise to do the exact opposite."
"Deal," Pam said, leaning back and starting to tug Harley's t-shirt over her head. Harley slid out of it, gliding against Pam as she got down from the counter. She whispered against Pam's neck, "How long do we have again?"
"Twenty-eight minutes," said Pam with a little groan. "But Harley, my curlers –"
"Take them out on the way!" Harley called back, already halfway to the bedroom.
Pam started after her, pulling curlers out and kicking off her pumps as she went.
Then she popped back into the kitchen, took the hors d'oeuvres out of the oven, and finally joined Harley in the bedroom.
Thirty-two minutes later, their door buzzed for the first time. "I'll get it!" Harley said, running over to buzz them in. She had quickly thrown on a black skirt, and now she pulled Pam's green tank top on over it.
"It's probably some of your friends anyway," said Pam, tugging on her own (dressy) jeans and a casual peasant top that Harley insisted she looked hot in, trying and failing to tame her now wild red curls.
"Babe, we talked about this," Harley said, coming over to help smooth her hair down. "You only have one friend."
"That's not helpful at all!" Pam scoffed. "And I have two friends, thank you very much."
Harley looked at her, biting back a grin. "You can't count me."
"Fine, I have one friend," Pam said. "Happy?"
"So happy," Harley said, not bothering to hide her grin anymore. She stood on tiptoe to kiss Pam's nose just as there was a knock on the door.
"Bud! Louise!" Harley exclaimed as she threw the door open, hugging each of them in turn.
"Harley, sweetie, are you doing okay?" said Louise, holding onto her tightly.
"I'm good," said Harley. "Really." She took a deep breath and brought them both into the apartment. "Bud, Louise – I'd like you to meet Pam."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," said Pam, sweeping over to them, in her element now. "I've heard so much about you. Oh – is that a cabernet? Let's not waste any time getting this bad boy open."
Harley grinned, watching her girl charm them both. Talking to people was in Harley's blood, she couldn't not do it, but watching Pam in action was like seeing a diver slip on a wetsuit – it was external, but the motions were practiced and sure, an adaptation that enabled them to survive in uncomfortable conditions.
Several more people arrived in quick succession: Zatanna (who whispered "Damn, Harley, nice work!" when she got a glimpse of Pam), Thomas (who gathered each of them up in a bear hug), and Harley's friend Barbara from the coffee shop.
Harley introduced Barbara to Pam as "the second-smartest woman I know," then whispered "Sorry, Babs!"
"Hey, I'll take second place. I'm just glad your apartment building actually has an elevator this time," Barbara said, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. "Actually, Pam and I have met before – at the coffee shop. Green tea, right?" Pam nodded, smiling, and Harley whacked herself on the forehead for forgetting.
There was another knock at the door, and Pam said, "I'll get it this time." She opened it to find Officer Montoya standing there.
"Good evening, Dr. Isley. We got a noise complaint regarding this address," Montoya said.
As Pam started to stammer, they heard Harley shout, "Renee! I'm so glad you could make it!" She ran over and hugged the surprised officer.
"Man, Harley, you ruined my little moment of cop humor," said Montoya.
"Ah, noise complaint gag?" Harley said. Montoya nodded, and Harley looked a little sheepish. "My bad. I would never ruin anyone's joke on purpose."
"Yes, we know that," Pam said dryly. "Officer Montoya, won't you come in?" When Montoya was inside, she closed the door and hissed at Harley, "You invited the officer who's investigating a homicide where we're material witnesses to a party?"
"Don't worry, Pam-a-lamb, I'm like 90% sure it's legal," Harley waved her off. "I asked my lawyer and he didn't know of a law against it."
"Harley – are you still calling Selina's lawyer for random legal advice?" said Pam, caught halfway between surprise and amusement.
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure he's doing it for free," Harley said. "Wait – do you think he's charging Selina?"
Pam just shook her head and walked away, smiling despite herself.
The last person to arrive was Kate, the EMT. Harley greeted her exuberantly ("My second-favorite redhead!") and then introduced her around.
When she saw Montoya, Kate blushed fiercely and Montoya did an actual spit take with her beer. "Wait – so you invited one of the cops who interviewed you and one of the EMTs who drove you to the police station?" Montoya said when she'd stopped coughing.
She happened to be looking at Pam, who raised an eyebrow and said, "Pssh, don't look at me – I don't even know when she had time to get your numbers."
"First time a patient ever invited me over," said Kate. "But I'm always up for a P-4-R-T-Y!"
"Kate Kane, you are quickly moving up the redhead charts," Harley said in a stage whisper, until Pam grabbed her and whispered something in her ear.
"Update, everyone: Pamela Isley is still Redhead Numero Uno!" Harley announced, and Pam blushed.
All things considered, the night ended up being . . . fun. Bud and Louise had to leave early, six kids and all, but the rest of them ended up staying until the wee hours of the morning, drinking and talking. It was the most fun Pam had had in a long time.
But the highlight came about halfway through, when there was one last buzz from downstairs.
"I'll get it!" Harley yelled, jumping up suddenly from where she was draped over Pam's lap on the loveseat.
Pam was facing away from the door, but the second she heard that familiar voice say, "Harley, sweetie, we really need to talk about how lawyers work," she whirled around.
"Kitty?!" Pam exclaimed.
"Hello, Ivy," said Selina, smiling as widely as Pam had ever seen. Pam rushed over and practically tackled her. "What – how –" she stammered, and Selina winked in Harley's direction.
"Well, you do only have the one friend, and it just seemed fair –" Harley began, but she was cut off when Pam stopped hugging Selina and pulled Harley into a deep kiss.
"Saw that coming," Thomas said.
"Saw it coming first," Barbara said.
"Saw it in the back of an ambulance once," Kate said, and everyone looked impressed but Montoya, who rolled her eyes at the memory.
"Anybody else feel like kissing their stepmother?" Selina said loudly. "No one? All right then, if you two are quite finished, you can show me where the – oh, they're not even stopping. You there, Muscles, come and mix me a drink, there's a darling."
Thomas obediently got up and followed Selina to the kitchen. As he fixed her drink, she made a bit of a show of touching his biceps and rowring, which of course made him blush.
Kate slipped into Thomas's now vacant spot on the loveseat, clutching her glass of wine rather tightly and scooting as close to the edge as possible. Montoya was on the other cushion of the loveseat, and Barbara was in her wheelchair on Kate's other side.
"So, Barbara, you work at a coffee shop?" Kate said, turning to her slightly. One of her feet slipped as she turned, and when she tried to course correct she ended up sloshing her wine backwards – all over Montoya.
"Shit!" Kate exclaimed, jumping up and clapping a hand to her mouth. Barbara grabbed a napkin from the side table and tossed it to Montoya. "Harley!" she called, and Harley pulled back from where she was still liplocked with Pam against the front door.
"Huh?" she said.
"Towel!" said Barbara. "We have a red wine incident over here."
But the two hostesses hadn't even disentangled themselves when Selina calmly walked over, shook up a bottle of club soda, and proceeded to spray it all over Montoya, who was still sitting on the loveseat looking a bit stunned.
Selina said to her, "You – into the bathroom. The club soda should keep it from staining, but you'll want to get it washed out as soon as possible." She pointed at Pam, who was sheepishly patting her hair down and smoothing out her shirt. "You – find her some dry clothes to change into." She looked at Kate, who held the empty glass guiltily. "You – go help her in the bathroom."
The she tossed the bottle over to Thomas. "You – mix the rest of that with some cranberry juice and vodka, and pour it over ice."
They all scattered to comply with her orders. Selina stalked over to Thomas and patted his cheek. "You're such a good little puppy."
"Actually, I'm more of a cat man," he said good-naturedly, bending down to rub Daffodil behind the ears, and Selina grinned dangerously at that.
In the bathroom, Kate set her glass down on the sink, then found a towel and started dabbing desperately at Montoya's shirt. "Oh man – I'm so, so sorry!" she said, a little breathlessly. Montoya rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighed, and said, "Kate – it's fine. Really."
Kate kept wiping at the mess until Montoya gently grabbed her hand and held it between them. "Hey," she said, grinning. "It's cool. Seriously, I don't even like this shirt."
"We should wash it out," said Kate. She started to reach for the top button with her other hand, realized what she was about to do, and pulled her hand back so quickly that her elbow banged into the wine glass and smashed it against the wall.
"Shit!" said Kate, reaching instinctively for it and slicing her finger in the process. "Ow!" She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked on it, praying that the floor would just open up and swallow her.
Montoya couldn't help grinning widely, seconds away from laughing out loud. "My, my," she said. "The best EMT in Ithaca is secretly a total spaz."
"Only with you," muttered Kate around her injured finger. Then she realized what she'd said and closed her eyes. "I give up," she sighed.
Pam opened the bathroom door just then, a pile of clothes in hand. "Are you okay?" she said, concerned. "I heard something break in here."
"We're fine," said Montoya, reaching for the clothes. "Although your wine glass has seen better days. Thank you for these." Pam nodded, glanced quickly between the two of them, and closed the door.
Montoya looked at Kate, who had stopped sucking on her finger. "Let me see it," she said.
"I'm fine," said Kate.
Montoya grabbed her hand and looked at the cut. "I'm an E-M-fucking-T," Kate snapped. "I know how to triage injuries."
"Well, you certainly put the 'E' in 'EMT,'" Montoya said with a grin. Kate glared at her but didn't pull her hand away.
"Why only with me?" Montoya said quietly.
"Um, what?" said Kate, her eyes widening.
"You said you're only a spaz around me," said Montoya, looking her straight in the eyes. She pulled Kate's hand a little closer. "Is it because . . . you're attracted to me?"
"Renee," whispered Kate.
"Call me Montoya," said Montoya. "And . . . call me tomorrow?"
"That was really smooth," Kate said with a grin. "And I will."
"Cool. Now get out of here so I can change." Kate left the bathroom, still smiling.
The rest of the party passed without incident or injury, and one by one the guests said their goodbyes until only Pam, Harley, and Selina were left.
"Well, girls," said Harley, throwing an arm over each of their shoulders, "I'd say this night was a success. Wouldn't you?" And the three of them grinned at one another, all of them feeling like they were exactly where they were meant to be.
The next morning, Harley woke up first for once. She was lying half on top of Pam, so it took almost no effort to lean up and plant a gentle kiss on her lips, a kiss that gradually got deeper and wetter until – "Goddamnit, STOP THAT!" Selina said crankily from Harley's other side. "It's bad enough that you two don't have the decency to have a guest bedroom. But that? With me on the edge over here, trying to get my beauty sleep? Just – no."
Harley giggled and only kissed Pam a few more times.