"That's not a real tail." The redhead informed the girl who was wearing it. "You're not a real kitty."

"I know. I'm just playing dress up cuz I wanna get candy." The girl swiped her dark bangs out of her eyes. "Are you a real flower?"

"No." Pamela giggled. "I'm a girl."

The brunette grinned. "Me too. I'm a girl too."

"Yeah." Pamela nodded. "I know other girls too. My mama's a girl."

"So is mine. But she is sick." The girl picked up a crayon and began scribbling on her paper.

Pamela just watched her, tilting her head slightly. She'd never seen a girl with short hair before. "Then who brought you to school?"

"Ms. Kyle." The brunette said, grabbing a red crayon from the selection in front of her. "I live at her house until my real mama gets better."

"Oh." Pam nodded, now understanding the situation. "How come your real mama is sick?"

The other girl shrugged. "I dunno, but she went nigh-night in the kitchen."

Pam giggled. "But beds are for sleeping! Not kitchens!"

The brunette giggled as well. "I know. She was sleepy for a long time."

"Did you say, 'WAKE UP, MAMA!'" Pam wanted to know.

"Yeah." The other girl nodded earnestly. "But she was too sleepy. She didn't want to wake up. So now my name is Selina Kyle."

"I'm Pamela Isley!" The redhead grinned.

"OK. We're friends now, OK?" Selina barely looked up from her paper.

"Yeah." Pam agreed with a nod. "We're best friends, OK?"

"Yeah." Selina nodded too. "I drew this for you." She picked up her paper and shoved it into the other girl's chest. "That's you." She pointed to the stick-figure with red hair. "And that's me." She indicated the figure with spiky black hair.

Pamela grinned. "My hair is so pretty."

"Yeah." Selina agreed once more, patting the red curls where they spilled out of her sunflower hat. "And you are my best friend."

"OK."

/

"FUCK YEAH, that's my best friend!" Selina returned the shocked stares of her classmates' parents by sneering: "Do you know who I am?" Pam fixed Selina with a look from the court, where she had just returned a serve with cutting precision. On anyone else, that look would have read Dude, be cool – on Pamela Isley, it translated more as Selina, please maintain some semblance of decorum, but the intent was the same.

Bruce chuckled beside Selina, throwing a handful of trail mix in his mouth as he settled comfortably back in the grass. "And henceforth, that would forever be known as the day Selina Kyle introduced the term 'fuck yeah' to the world of elite prep school tennis matches."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Bruce," Selina said, her tone cloyingly sweet as he grinned at her through a mouthful of peanuts and chocolate chips.

"She's really good, isn't she?" said Mera, her red hair catching the light as she leaned around her girlfriend Diana to address Selina.

"Well, it's not fucking dolphin ball, Merida, but we do what we can around here," Selina said.

Diana reached for Mera's hand and rolled her eyes slightly. "Water polo is the preferred term, Selina."

Selina waved her off impatiently as they turned their attention back to the court. The four of them watched as Pam tossed the ball up, then delivered it to her opponent's side of the net with laserlike accuracy.

"Ha! Try returning that, Cloverfield!" Selina yelled over the polite claps from the crowd as Pam's opponent just barely missed and the ball bounced into the fence behind her.

"Cloverfield? Really? She's not even 6 feet tall, Selina," Diana said, stealing the bag of trail mix from Bruce and holding it out for Mera to take some.

Selina tilted her head and looked at the other girl sweetly. "But, my dear princess Di, she's so hairy that I felt 'Sasquatch' would be just a bit too apropos. Would you prefer to be the giver of shit for the day?" she offered graciously.

"I'll pass," said Diana, watching Pam line up her next return shot. The redhead bounced a little on the balls of her feet, swung her racquet low in a graceful motion –

. . . and then something seemed to catch her eye, because her feet stuttered and her return shot went wild, bouncing up onto the grassy knoll where most of the spectators were gathered.

"What the hell, Isley?! Look alive!" Selina shouted. "What are you even – oh." Her gaze had followed Pam's, and now she saw a small blonde figure hovering by a tree near the edge of the hill. "Jesus Christ," she muttered.

"Oh, there's Harley!" Mera said, starting to wave her over.

But Selina was already yelling, "Hey! Dug!"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "From Up?"

Selina ignored him. "Yeah, Crotch Rocket, I'm talking to you! Get the fuck over here!" and Harley was ducking her head, moving quickly through the crowd towards their little group as if she were trying not to be seen.

"Sit," said Selina, pointing at the spot of ground next to her. Harley paused, already in mid-step toward sitting by Diana and Mera – and then, against her better judgment, reversed course and sat down gingerly next to Selina.

Harley said, "Sorry I'm late, bus was running late." Then she risked a glance down at the court. There was a brief lull in the action while both girls took a quick water break, and even from here she was entirely captivated by Pam in full tennis regalia, her red waves tamed into a high ponytail that brushed her back as she took a drink, her elegant throat rippling as she gulped water down hastily, her eyes flicking over to the little crowd on the hill . . .

"If your face gets any redder we'll have to recommend you for the Elmo puppet job." Selina said, her gaze unreadable as she watched Harley intently. "I'm sure having a grown man's hand shoved up your ass everyday could be trying…But think of the children, Crotch Rocket."

"Oh, lay off, Selina," Bruce said amiably. "Harley – you want some trail mix?" He sat up and handed the bag over to Harley, who nodded in thanks and took a handful automatically.

"Hey Harley," said Mera, leaning back so she and Harley could talk from opposite ends of the line, "Diana told me that we're going–" here, she caught Diana's small but emphatic head shake and stopped whatever she was going to say, instead trailing off lamely with, "to cheer Pam on. At, um, tennis game." Diana bit her lower lip in amusement and looked at Mera like Really?

"Good plan!" Selina's said, patronizingly. "How about we get back to that?" Her voice lacked a bit of its usual bite, Harley thought maybe because she was putting so much of her energy into trying to read Mera's mind in that moment.

The two athletes were in position now. It was Pam's serve. She tossed the ball up, like Harley was sure she'd done a million times before – but then her eyes flicked to the side for just a second, and she completely whiffed the serve.

"Unacceptable," Selina muttered beside Harley.

Pam managed to hold it together, her opponent narrowing the significant gap but ultimately not enough to actually beat her.

Selina resumed her aggressive cheering of Pam and belittling of her opponent. She didn't say another word to Harley until the match was over and the athletes were collecting their gear.

"Well, Crotchy, shouldn't you get a move on? I doubt the bus is going to wait for you just because you're a frequent flyer."

"Selina," Bruce and Diana said in unison.

"The next bus isn't for an hour," Harley said, looking down at the grass, twisting a piece in her hands.

"We can give you a ride," said Mera, resting her chin on Diana's shoulder and tucking her hand in the crook of Diana's arm.

Selina sighed. "I'm just giving her shit. There's room in the 'Vette for Elmo and whatever she'd got shoved up her ass."

"No," said a voice above them. They all looked up, shielding their eyes against the late afternoon sun (except Selina, whose sunglasses provided ample protection). "I've got her," Pam said. She and Harley let themselves have one moment to smile shyly at each other, and then Selina jumped to her feet.

"Pammy!" she exclaimed, sliding her arms around Pam's hips and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth that lingered just a second too long, drawing stares from the few spectators still on the hillside. Pam stood frozen, her racquet dangling at her side. "You were splendid out there," Selina continued. "Well, until –" she threw a glance back at Harley as she detached from Pam – "anyway, you won. Let's go celebrate at my house. You can come by after you're finished running errands."

"I'm glad you came," Pam was flushed, and not just from the tennis match. "But I have to work on something for school." She smiled winningly at Bruce, Diana and Mera and said, "Thank you all for being here." The group stood up, and each said their congratulations. Diana fist-bumped Bruce, and then she and Mera headed up the hill (Mera winked at Harley as they left, which did not go unnoticed by Selina).

"You were great out there, really," Bruce said, grinning at his old friend. Then he turned to Selina. "Well, babe, shall we go celebrate Pam's win at your house?"

Selina Kyle chose her battles. With her head held high and one final muttered "Crotch Rocket," she walked away with Bruce – and Pam and Harley were alone.

/

"FUCK YEAH! That's my best friend!"

Pamela grinned despite herself. Selina was a terrible fan- Rude, loud, insistent- an absolute nuisance. Pamela found it was best to just be grateful she was cheering for her and not the other girl. Even so, Pam turned around to give her friend a look instructing her to remember the setting and adjust her behavior accordingly.

The redhead focused back on the task at hand. Sucking in a deep breath, she tossed the ball, and a second later it was rocketing past—

"Ha! Try returning that, Cloverfield!"

Cloverfield. Who swung after the ball had already passed her by.

Pamela's opponent was inferior by all measurable standards. In fact, she wasn't even ranked. This was more an exhibition match than anything- an extra practice. But Pamela didn't need an opponent, not really, anyway. She was competing against herself. Her goal was to win every set this season, and her goal for this particular match was to hold "Cloverfield" scoreless. So far, that didn't seem to be a tall order.

…Until Harley showed up.

Pam completely torpedoed her shot, and the embarrassment almost hurt it felt so hot in her cheeks. She was flustered. She never felt flustered, not on the tennis court, anyway. Suddenly she was reminded of that first day of practice after meeting Harley, how she'd been so disgracefully unfocused that she hadn't even seen the ball coming. Control yourself, Pamela. Control.

She was able to maintain enough focus to soundly win the match, but she'd fallen short of her goal. She hadn't kept her opponent scoreless. When the match was over, Pam shook her opponent's hand, but offered no verbal congratulations for the girl's loss. When she was told: "Good match," Pamela simply nodded and headed to her bench.

She turned her back to the spectators and swung her racquet into the ground. Unacceptable. And again. her frustration seeming to warp the racquet's metal exterior more than the blunt force trauma. Then she straightened up, adjusted her pony-tail, and calmly filed the mangled racquet into her bag, taking out her spare one to carry over to the sidelines.

Pam was used to public displays of a lot of things with Selina, but a public display of affection felt somewhat new. A kiss, certainly, although Selina hadn't been a hugger either for some time. Pamela would have enjoyed it more had Harley not looked so uncomfortable. So Pam declined Selina's offer to celebrate at her house. And that action proved surprisingly difficult. Pam couldn't remember the last time she hadn't celebrated her win with Selina. But she had Harley now, and where Selina was just her friend, Harley was more than that. And anyway, Pam doubted very much that Selina would really care by the end of the night. Bruce would go over and they'd enjoy themselves just fine without her. It wasn't as if Pamela was known as the life of the party.

When Selina left, though, there was something in her eyes. They looked almost like Harley's for a moment before her expression morphed back to its usual haughty indifference.

Pam thanked Diana and Mera, and then Bruce. Just like Selina, Bruce was always there. Pam consistently returned the favor, of course, attending Football games and Gymnastics meets…Pam was a far more silent observer than Selina, but she always offered the brunette a reassuring nod before she started her routine. Now Pam supposed she would be there for Harley as well. She hoped she wouldn't distract Harley as severely as the blonde did her.

Then Selina and the others were gone and it was only Harley left on the grassy hillside. The blonde looked at her shyly.

"I like your uniform."

Pam glanced down at the green and black ensemble. "Why?" She knew why.

Harley shrugged, her teeth biting softly into her lower lip. "I like the skirt."

"Oh?" Pam feigned ignorance.

"Mhm." Harley nodded, moving closer, close enough to whisper. She brought her hands up to Pamela's collar. "And I like…this, too." She undid the top button.

"Is that so?" Pamela giggled.

"Good match." A voice behind them complimented, causing Pam to whirl around in a panic.

"I didn't know you were so talented." Professor Woodrue grinned at them.

Pamela wasn't sure who she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't her Biology professor. "Thank you." Was all she could offer in return.

"And Harley." The man's gaze fell to the blonde next. "Nice of you to cheer on your tutor."

Harley's hand wrapped around Pam's forearm. "I like tennis." Was her explanation. "We'll see you in class, Professor." She began dragging Pam towards the parking lot.

"Well that was rude." The redhead chastised her.

"No, Pam. It really wasn't." They walked a few steps in silence before Harley said: "Did you want to go with Selina?"

The redhead was surprised by the question. "No—I—you're here. I'm glad you came."

"I don't think Selina was." Harley mumbled.

Pam didn't quite know how to respond. There seemed to be a sense of jealousy in Harley's tone and Pam was clueless as to how to combat it. "I love Selina." That was a terrible choice, Pamela. Honestly.

By Harley's expression, Pam determined she agreed- it was a terrible choice. Those words meant something different now "No! Not like with you."

Harley's eyes widened. "You love me?"

"No!" This exchange is awful. "I just mean, I don't—I wouldn't. Ugh." Pam pulled her around the corner of the tennis locker room and pushed her up against the wall, not waiting even a moment this time before running her tongue across Harley's lower lip and then plunging deeper.

Harley squeaked, but the sound was muffled. Despite the surprise, she responded quickly, grabbing Pam by the hips and pulling her flush against her.

Pam wanted to be lost in the sensation of the moment, but she knew where she was, and it was not the place for this. She reluctantly broke the kiss, but kept her body pressed against Harley's as the blonde had yet to release her hold on her hips.

"I love Selina and Bruce because they're my friends. But I don't want a friend right now." Pam told her, their lips barely an inch apart. "I want you."

Harley blushed nervously under the intensity of Pamela's gaze, and it was only then the redhead realized what she'd said. "I didn't mean…"

"I get it. They're your friends." Harley rescued her. "Selina just…scares me."

Pam pecked her on the lips before releasing her from the wall. "Selina scares most people."

/

"Are these your flowers?" The dark-haired boy asked, a crooked grin on his face.

"Yeah." Pamela smiled. "They are my babies."

"They're pretty." The boy said, his cheeks reddening. "You're pretty." He corrected.

"I know that." The redhead told him, patting the soil lovingly with her hands. "My name is Pamela. What's your name?"

"Bruce." He said, before being roughly shoved forward and landing on his face in Pamela's flower patch.

The culprit cackled evilly behind them, his dark eyes shining with glee.

Tears sprang immediately to Pamela's eyes as Bruce rolled off the flowers quick as he could, his face a picture of horror as he looked at the damage he'd caused. "That wasn't nice, J!" Pamela cried.

The culprit just laughed louder, coming over to stomp on the flowers himself now.

Pamela was bawling at this point, absolutely heartbroken at the carnage playing out before her. "KITTY!" She sobbed. "J broke my flowers!"

Bruce raised his eyes and watched as a brunette across the yard stopped her game of tag and came barreling over without a moment's hesitation. Without first questioning the situation, Selina punched J full force in the face. He crumpled to the ground and she came to stand over him. "Why did you hurt Pammy's flowers?" She demanded.

"Because they're stupid!" J shot back, wiping the blood that was now spilling like a faucet from his nose.

"They are not stupid!" Pam argued through her sobs.

"Yeah!" Bruce seconded. "You are mean. Go away."

Selina raised her fist again to show they meant business, and J scrambled away, crying for a teacher.

"He hurt my flowers." Pamela sniffed, the tears slowing, but her breathing still shallow.

Selina shook her head and knelt down beside her, pulling the redhead into a sudden and slightly uncomfortable hug. "Don't cry, Pammy. We can make them better."

Bruce had a bright idea: "We need water to water them!"

"Boys are mean." Pamela wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"Nuh uh!" Bruce argued. "I am not mean!"

Selina regarded him critically, looking him up and down as Bruce's cheeks once again blushed crimson. "Prove it!"

"OK!" Bruce said with a new determination. "I'll get water to make the flowers better."

Selina squinted at him, evidently deciding if this act of valor would be enough. "Yeah, OK. But you have to run cuz Pammy's sad."

Bruce was gone before Selina even finished her sentence, running back to the schoolhouse in search of water.