areyoukiddingmedude regrets to inform you that, due to uncontrollable laughing fits brought on by Selina's three-word response to Pam's dress in this chapter, she is currently indisposed to either a) find or b) create a dialogue to open today's chapter.

Ever since the tutoring session in Pam's room, the greenhouse, the almost . . . whatever that was, Harley's bike ride to school hadn't seemed nearly as long.

Okay, so it had only been two days, but still. She felt lighter, happier, more relaxed – more like Harley Quinzel in all her glory, instead of the poor little transfer kid she'd acted like on day 1.

It didn't hurt that she and Pam were now pretty regular texting buddies, either. Harley had saved her number as GreenGirl, intuiting that their blossoming . . . friendship? was a one-on-one thing for now. And that was actually oddly fine with her – she'd sat with Edward Nygma and Jonathan Crane at lunch on Thursday like normal, while Pam sat with her usual crew. Harley liked the way Pam flashed a mysterious little smile and quickly looked away every time their eyes met across the cafeteria, and she'd even risked sending a text just to see Pam's reaction:

this text is coming from INSIDE THE CAFETERIA

She watched as Pam's brow furrowed slightly when her phone buzzed, and then as she visibly relaxed when she saw it was from Harley, and then as she stifled a little giggle when she read the message, her eyes flicking up to Harley's and her cheeks reddening the tiniest bit.

Harley didn't mind, really, that she didn't text her back right then. She was probably busy with her friends or with 'Pam stuff,' and Selina's eyes had narrowed as soon as Pam took out her phone, more so when she covered her little laugh. They'd probably text that evening anyway. So Harley was fine with it.

And sure enough, the second gymnastics practice ended, she got a simple question: Should I be afraid?

Harley felt a flutter in her stomach and grinned to herself as she quickly typed back: just watch your back. I'm sorta like a ninja ;)

Once again, they'd texted on and off throughout the evening, ending with Pam's Good night.

Now Harley was pedaling up to the school on a Friday morning, a bit brisk for August but still perfect biking weather. It's like Mary Poppins said, she thought: Just a spoonful of rehashing your texting history with your biology tutor helps the biking go faster.

"Why so happy?" oozed a voice behind her as she was hopping off her bike. Without turning around, Harley knew it was the sleazy green-haired boy who'd taken a liking to her since her first day at Gotham Prep.

"I wasn't aware that one needed a reason to be happy," Harley said, affecting a haughty voice as she chained her bike to its usual tree. She started to walk up to the school, but he grabbed her upper arm hard, trapping her in place. Harley whirled. "Hey! Not cool!" she said angrily, looking him in the eye as she tried to pry his fingers loose with her other hand.

He ignored her efforts to free herself and pulled her close, his bony fingers digging into her biceps, his long face twisted in a sneer as he said, "Listen up, charity case. I told you before – you don't want to get on my bad side. My father–"

"Let her go," said a voice from the front steps of the school, a voice filled with cold fury – a voice that Harley knew even before she turned and saw her belonged to none other than Pamela Isley herself.

She was beautifully lit by the morning rays of the sun, her hair shining like the burnished shield of a Roman warrior, her eyes cold and dead as she stared down the boy with the green hair. For some reason Harley couldn't imagine this early, she was coming out of the school, and time seemed to slow down as Harley looked around, absorbing every detail of the scene.

She saw Selina Kyle coming up from the parking lot, her Corvette key ring frozen in mid-twirl as she looked up at her best friend, suspicious and calculating.

She heard the buzz of conversation cease as nearby students instinctively tuned in to the showdown occurring on the front walk.

And she felt his fingers squeeze cruelly tight around her arm for a split second before he released her. "Well, well, well," he said, falsely jovial, "it appears I'm not the only special friend you've made in your short time matriculating with us."

He addressed the group at large: "Carry on, peons!" and shot one last venomous look at Pam before skulking off toward the bleachers.

Harley swallowed hard, still frozen in place as Selina swept past her and hustled Pam inside. She looked after them and swore that she caught a glimpse of green eyes before the door swung shut. Then Edward was there, breathlessly recapping the event, and the moment was over.

Ugh, what a creep, Harley thought as she headed to her locker to drop off books she wouldn't need until later that day. She fumbled with the combination a couple of times before her lock finally clicked.

Something was different.

Her locker smelled amazing, which was a first, and on the shelf near the top Harley saw a beautifully designed box that she knew wasn't hers.

Harley checked the lockers to either side – nope, right locker number – and then curiosity got the better of her, and she untied the ribbon on the box.

Inside was an envelope with her name in picture-perfect script, and inside the envelope was a cream card with green calligraphy: PLI. Harley couldn't help the smile that lit her whole face when she recognized those initials, and she held her breath as she opened the card to read:

Dear Harley,

I believe I mentioned that my mother works for a cosmetics company? As a result, she has access to their skin care and makeup line before the products are available in stores.

Perhaps you'd enjoy their upcoming line. Please forgive me if you're not actually a winter – I thought these would complement your skin tone nicely.

Kind regards,

Pam

Under the card were bottles of face lotion and toner, tubes of lip gloss and mascara, eyeshadow and eyeliner and blush. Harley had never gotten this much makeup at once in her entire life, and she was grateful for her locker door to hide her dopey grin behind.

What a sweet, thoughtful, ass-kicking, dorky human being she is, Harley thought.

And she only managed to dial the grin back from a 10 to an 8 before the first bell rang.

/

"Dayum, Pammy! You are making that hat work!" Selina's head popped up in the mirror behind her.

"I know." Pam assured her as she adjusted the wide-brimmed hat on her head. It was fine before, but she was (of course) aiming for unadulterated perfection.

"Well?" Selina prompted. Her eyebrows were raised expectantly at Pam in the mirror.

"Well?" Pam repeated as she applied her lipstick, not understanding what Selina wanted from her.

"Do I look sexy or what?!" the brunette demanded.

Pamela reluctantly stood and turned around to see her friend in a bright red pantsuit. The fitted slacks were buttoned high on her waist and clung tight to her toned thighs. The jacket boasted shoulder pads appropriate for the genre and crossed over her chest in a double-breasted cinching pattern. Selina truly did look like she'd stepped off a Film Noir movie set.

Selina posed suggestively against the doorway. "Am I pulling this off or am I pulling this off?"

Pam smiled. "If you know the answer, why do you ask the question?"

"Because I like hearing your answer, Pammy." Selina smirked. "That's what friends are for, to inflate one another's already massive egos. Ours are, of course, deserved. We walk the walk. Speaking of which…" Selina leered at the other girl. "Give me a twirl. Let's see the back."

Pamela laughed and quickly complied, turning to show her a more complete view of the emerald, single strapped silk and chiffon gown.

"DAT ASS THO." The brunette laughed.

Pam looked over her shoulder just as Bruce entered the room. "Maybe I picked the wrong girl," he lamented when he received a suggestive wink from the redhead.

Selina cupped her hand to her ear. "Do you hear that? That's the sound of someone not getting laid tonight."

"Not by you, anyway." He joked. "What do you say, Pam? Want to make somebody jealous?"

"Oh, no way." Selina stated before Pam could respond with something adequately suggestive, "Been there, done that. Believe me when I say you two aren't compatible." She turned away to adjust Bruce's tie before she could see Pamela's face blush completely crimson.

The other guests started trickling in soon after, either parking their luxury vehicles on the street or having their drivers drop them off by the front door. In no time at all Selina's museum-like house was filled with their Gotham Prep classmates, all adhering strictly to the theme because it was a well-known fact that at a Selina Kyle party, compliance to the theme was mandatory. The alcohol was flowing almost immediately and thank god Selina's dad was a well-stocked alcoholic because they were already running a bit low on the spirits they'd purchased.

Pamela didn't much care for parties because Pamela- honestly- didn't much care for people. Pamela Isley also didn't drink. She'd tried once in a similar setting her freshman year, but it had made her feel so terribly out of control that she'd let her temper get the best of her. It was not a good night. Pamela didn't like the idea of forfeiting cognitive function, and she knew the negative effects of alcohol on the adolescent brain. Earning a PhD and the Nobel Prize would require a healthy and fully-formed frontal lobe, something that she knew drinking could hinder the development of. So Pamela quickly settled into her usual role at Selina's parties and began making laps to ensure no one was vomiting in any of Mr. Kyle's priceless vases.

She wasn't obsessively watching the front door, just glancing at it every so often. Harley had assured her over text that she'd come, and after the gift Pamela left in her locker, the redhead was confident her pupil had the tools to comply with the theme. The bus, Pamela reminded herself, she's late because she has to take the bus.

"Hey." A hand tapped her shoulder.

Pam hoped it was Harley, but found Diana instead, standing next to…Mera. Pamela quickly compared their attributes, since they really did look strikingly similar. Maybe not twins, but a case for siblings could easily be made. Mera was a bit older- probably 19, Pam thought- her breasts were smaller, her face slightly longer, her eyes a bit bluer…Diana was right to describe them as "sea glass." And of course she was also wearing a green dress, although hers was more 'office girl' and less 'evening gown,' much to Pamela's relief.

"Hi! So glad you could make it." Pam leaned in to kiss Diana on both cheeks. "This must be Mera."

"And you must be Pamela," the other redhead guessed with a smile. "Diana's been so excited for me to meet her friends."

"You were last on the list because we had to sneak Selina and Bruce in before they went off the deep end." Diana explained, a drink in her hand.

"I'm flattered that you knew I'd be sober." Pam chuckled.

"Well, I thought you two might want to talk about seaweed or something so I decided we should get the less meaningful socializing out of the way first." Diana grinned.

"I'm so sorry," Mera suddenly grabbed Pam's arm. "Is it conceited of me to say how pretty you are? Since we look so much alike? Because I'm serious, you're absolutely gorgeous."

Diana laughed. "And she's dating me, so you know she has good taste."

"Thank you." Pamela smiled good-naturedly at the pair standing in front of her. She was pleased she was avoiding most of the awkwardness she'd exhibited on Tuesday. "And I'm not sure it's conceited if it's true."

"I like the way you think," Mera was saying as Diana looked over Pamela's shoulder and scowled. "What's the matter?" Mera asked.

"Who invited that asshole?"

Pam followed her gaze and found Diana was referring to that J kid with the green hair. He was walking around shoving a camera in people's faces and Pamela had half a mind to yell at him again, but she restrained herself, deciding that could be Bruce's job.

"That's certainly an interesting choice of hair color…" Mera narrowed her eyes at the boy.

"It throws off the aesthetic." Pam mumbled, glancing again at the front door.

"So Diana tells me you're interested in botany?" The other redhead prompted.

Pam pulled her attention back to the conversation at hand. "Yes. But I am equally proficient with Chemistry. Biochemistry especially. Actually, I—"

"PAMMY!" Selina's voice carried over the music and conversations. "PAMMY, GET OVER HERE!"

"That sounds like our illustrious host." Mera smirked.

Pam sighed. "That it does. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

"With Selina it will be a lot longer than a moment." Diana chuckled. "Especially after a few shots."

Pam offered a charming "Well, a girl can hope, right?" before forging through the crowd in search of Selina. She found the brunette clutching her cellphone to her ear in the open kitchen.

"Tell this fucker I need 15 cheese pizzas," she said, desperation in her voice.

Pam was incredulous. "You can't do that yourself?"

"He thinks it's a prank."

"Ugh." The redhead groaned as she snatched the phone away. "Listen," she told the man on the other end. "We have 80 hungry adolescents here that will either eat your pizza or the guy's down the block. Listen to the tone of my voice, does this sound like I'm making a joke? No. I'm not. 15 cheese pizzas. Fulfill the order and I will personally walk down to the curb and pay for it." Then she hung up and handed the phone back to Selina, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"You're such a party mom." Selina wheezed.

"Yeah, and without me you wouldn't be getting pizza, so count your blessings."

"Yes, Ma'am." The brunette giggled before her face morphed into a scowl similar to Diana's. "That piece of…"

"Ladies…" J greeted them, slinking up to Selina's kitchen island with his video camera pointed at them.

"Can we help you?" Pam spat.

"Not particularly. I just need an attentive audience." His voice made Pamela want to take a shower. "Hey, douchebags!" He addressed the party-goers filling the living room. "Ready to hear the results?"

Selina crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes when their audience cheered. "What results?"

"Of my poll, of course." He grinned. "The question was, my two queen bees, 'Mirror, mirror on the wall, why is the fairest of them all? Selina Kyle or Pamela Isley?'"

"Oh, fuck off you Avril Lavigne-Looking-Motherfucker." Selina's arms were still crossed but it was clear she wanted to punch him. "My parents just got the floor refinished and I don't want to have to mop up your slime trail."

"Come on, guys…" He turned back to the audience. "Don't you want to know?" More cheers followed and he shrugged at the girls. "I think we're going to have to give the people what they want."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Then you're getting the fuck out of my house. K, Sk8er Boi?"

Pam stared him down as well. "No need to make things Complicated."

Selina belly laughed and gave her friend a high-five. "Dude, our 2007 pop culture humor is on lock."

"Who knew it would ever be applicable to—"

"ALL RIGHT!" The boy interrupted, clearly peeved at how they were brushing this whole thing off. "Can I get a drumroll, please?" It was provided by some enabler in the crowd and the boy cleared his throat, holding the camera up to record the girls' reactions. "Gotham Prep has spoken, and the winner is…"

Pamela didn't like the way her name sounded rolling off J's tongue, and she certainly didn't like the way the color drained from Selina's face when he said it. Cheers of what appeared to be agreement erupted, and the external validation was so great that Pamela truly had no choice but to accept the praise with a smile. The other girl seemed stunned at first, looking from the camera to Pamela to the crowd…

Then Selina smiled too, but in a way that Pamela knew to be wary of. There was something dangerous in that smile.

"How about we call it a draw?" Selina suggested, and before Pam knew what was happening, lips were moving against hers. Soft lips. Familiar lips. Selina's lips, and Pam found herself kissing back far too quickly.

No- she pushed the other girl away. "Don't do that." Pam whispered, her voice pained, breathing labored.

"What?" There was a mischievous glint in the brunette's eye. "This?" And the lips returned, accompanied by a tongue this time and delicate hands threaded through thick red locks. Pamela knew she'd let it go on too long, knew she was kissing back and hated herself for the little moan she let escape. And this time it was Selina who broke the seal. "Well? What do you think?" She asked the cheering crowd. "Tie?" Her question was met with uproarious applause and Pam had never been so mortified in her life.

Until she looked away from Selina and into a pair of startling blue eyes, eyes that radiated shock and hurt even across a crowded room.

Bonus question: Name the Batman: The Animated Series Episode where Ivy wears the wide-brimmed hat and trench coat