She is literally gonna kill me, was all Harley could think.

Somehow, they'd moved into the back seat of the Tesla convertible – the car she bought for me, the car she's teaching me how to drive – and Harley was completely surrounded by Pam's red waves falling around both of them, breathing in a ridiculous (but strangely delicious) mix of expensive lotion and bowling alley pizza, electrified by her body's response to the vision that was Pamela Isley currently moving on top of her.

Harley was used to being the instigator, the spark – but god, it was all she could do to keep up with this girl. Pam was relentlessly exploring Harley's mouth with her lips and tongue, cupping the back of her neck with one hand while she trailed the other over Harley's arm, her hip, her side, setting her on fire with every kiss, every touch.

Her desire to make Pam feel what she was feeling overrode pretty much every other thought in Harley's mind, and she slipped one hand under the redhead's shirt, her breath catching when her fingertips grazed Pam's abs. Guess all those years of tennis lessons paid off, she thought.

"Mmm, those years of gymnastics weren't so bad either," Pam murmured against her mouth, now mirroring Harley's motion with her own fingers.

"Shit! Did I say that out loud?" Harley giggled, and she felt Pam's answering snicker against the underside of her jaw, followed by a hot tongue licking right where Harley's pulse must be visibly throbbing by now. "Pam!" Harley breathed, jumping a little so that the hand that was under Pam's shirt jerked upward, meeting smooth satin.

Both girls stilled then, trapped together in the moment. Pam pulled back just enough to look Harley in the eye – and then she arched into her touch, pressing herself into Harley's hand so slowly, and her eyes fluttered closed. "Harley," she whispered.

And that broken whisper took Harley apart, just – dismantled her. She curled her thumb up and over the cup of Pam's bra, sliding it back and forth just inside, watching Pam's eyes fly open as she gasped.

Then those eyes darkened, looking into Harley's with unmistakable intent, and the two girls moved as one. Harley surged up to capture Pam's lips once more, Pam's hand now gripping the back of her neck even more tightly, and they both let out a low moan when their tongues slid against each other, Harley's thumb continuing its lazy strokes back and forth.

God, she's flawless, Harley thought as Pam shifted above her, and suddenly like magic she felt a leg slide between her own. The blonde bent her own knee upward experimentally and grinned at the resulting hiss of surprise and pleasure. And then Pam's mouth was back on her neck, and she was rocking against her slowly but with intent, and that wiped the smug grin right off Harley's face.

Harley's breath was coming faster now, and she slid a hand down to cup Pam's rear through her tight jeans, rubbing gentle circles on it. Pam panted hotly against Harley's neck, still rocking her hips rhythmically into her. "Harley," she said in a husky voice, dragging her eyes up to look into the other girl's, "if we don't slow down, I'm going to –"

"I know, me too," said Harley, grinning despite herself. She blew a breath towards her forehead, trying and failing to dislodge a piece of hair that was sticking there. Pam smiled down at her, stopping the motion of her hips with some effort as she swept the hair out of Harley's face for her. "Um," Harley said, "have you – I mean, with Selina –"

"Wow, this is awkward," Pam said, still smiling but ducking her head down to bury her face in Harley's neck. She mumbled, "We did some stuff. But she never wanted to – and then, there's some stuff that I didn't want her to –"

"So, she made you . . . ya know, but only over the clothes stuff?" Harley summarized awkwardly, scrunching her nose up in embarrassment even though Pam couldn't see her. The redhead just nodded quickly against her neck.

Harley sighed. "Then I'm glad we stopped."

Pam's head snapped back up, and she started to sit back, fixing her hair. "Wait, where are you going?" said Harley, honestly confused as her hands slid away from Pam's body.

"You said you were glad we stopped," Pam said a little frostily. "So I'm stopping."

"Oh," said Harley, comprehension dawning. "Wait, please. Come back down here," and she pulled Pam gently down by the hand until she was nestled into Harley's neck again. Harley absently stroked her hair and said, rather quickly, "What I meant was, I'm glad we stopped because our first time will also be your first time, and our first time was about ta last like 2 minutes, and I want it to be really awesome and special for you and not just a hookup in the back of a car. I want you to like…remember it, you know?"

Pam took a minute to digest all of that. Then she nuzzled her nose against Harley's jaw, very deliberately, and said, "I think we should probably schedule our next tutoring session. My parents are attending a gala tomorrow evening, so you're welcome to come over to my house if you'd like."

Harley sighed, but tried to rally. "Sure, yeah, bio tutoring is good too –"

And then Pam was shutting her up with a quick (but wet and awesome) kiss. She said, slowly and with great emphasis, "Um, Harley? My parents will be gone tomorrow night if you want to come over . . ."

Harley thought that if someone had slapped her on the back just then, one or both of her eyes would have popped right out, they were bugging so far out of her skull. "Oh! Yes! Tutoring! Ah. Let's – that's cool. I'll just – um, can you get me?"

"We'll figure it out," laughed Pam, and then she was kissing her again, gently, until Harley relaxed.

Yep, she's gonna kill me, all right, Harley thought, looking up at her. And I can't think of a better way ta go.

/

Pamela kissed Harley goodnight even if she didn't want her to go just yet. The kiss couldn't communicate everything she wanted to, but she made sure it meant something. Made sure it promised more to come. When they separated, Harley bit her lip and trailed her hand softly down Pamela's cheek. It was all the redhead could do not to pull her into the back seat again.

"Goodnight." Pamela said with a shy smile.

Harley unbuckled her seatbelt with what looked like some reluctance. "I'll see you tomorrow? You'll call me? Or I guess you could text me. Email would work too, but..."

"A handwritten letter would be a bit strange?" Pamela chuckled.

Harley was grinning too, a pink blush in her cheeks. "Your house, tomorrow. You'll call me."

"You get a second date. Congratulations." Pam leaned forward and kissed her again, as briefly as she could manage.

The blonde smirked as she reached for the handle, but the door was barely open when Pamela stopped her once more.

"Tonight was memorable, Harley." She said, her voice quiet, but tone matter-of-fact.

Harley turned around. "What?"

"You said you wanted my first time—our first time, to be memorable." Pam reminded her. "I'll remember tonight even if it wasn't that." The redhead watched as a blush once again spread in Harley's cheeks. She smiled her wide, happy smile and shut the Tesla's door, glancing one more time over her shoulder before nearly skipping up the stairs to her family's apartment.

Pamela drove probably a bit faster than she should have, but she felt an excitement that was difficult to describe. Driving fast in a convertible was as close as she could get to the physical embodiment of the feeling. She was warm, and tingly, and…exhilarated.

Pam parked the car in the garage and jogged up to the house, noticing that there were lights on in the living room. The nearer she came to the house, the slower her pace. By the time she got to the porch she was taking steps half her normal stride. "You're being ridiculous, Pamela." She mumbled to herself, attempting to smooth down her hair one last time. But the door opened from the inside, and her mother was suddenly looming in the doorway.

"Pamela. It's after 10." Her mother informed her with a cadence so icy Pamela literally shivered.

"It is, yes." Pam said, straightening up even though she wanted to cower. "May I come in?"

"You can check your wit at the door, thank you." Mrs. Isley said, turning into the house and simply leaving the door open for her daughter.

Pamela followed, closing it behind her, but hesitating before locking it. "Is Father coming home?"

"No." Mrs. Isley informed her from where she now sat in the arm chair just inside the living room.

Pam nodded in understanding and locked the door, then slipped her shoes off and went to join her mother in the living room. "Will he be accompanying you to the gala tomorrow evening?" She asked once she'd returned to her mother's line of sight.

"Yes." Her answer was, again, brief.

Pamela shifted awkwardly for a moment in the silence before venturing, "Did you have a good day?"

Mrs. Isley regarded her critically. "My day was adequate. But if you must know, our condensing units need to be upgraded and my secretary is an imbecile."

Pam cleared her throat, trying not to sound surprised her mother had actually responded with real information concerning her job. "Aren't those concerns you could raise with Father?"

"Go running to my husband every time I encounter a bit of trouble?" Mrs. Isley scoffed. "Do you truly think so little of me?"

"No, it's just—"

"Where were you?"

Pamela should have seen the subject change coming. "I was with Diana. We have an assignment for French class due Tuesday and were attempting to get a head start."

Mrs. Isley arched an eyebrow. "Diana Prince?"

"Yes." Pamela nodded, hoping her mother wouldn't sense the significant omission.

"I don't want you conversing with that girl any longer." Mrs. Isley told her, returning to her usually icy delivery. "She's a negative influence on you. Running around with that…girl. She's become an embarrassment to her family."

Pamela took a moment to recall her brief meetings with the Prince family. Diana's mother was stern, but loving. She spoke glowingly of Diana even when her daughter was in her presence. Her father was charming, with a twinkle in his eye that Diana had clearly inherited. Diana met Mera on their family vacation. Pamela couldn't imagine the Princes were all that ashamed… "Yes, Mother."

"You simply don't need the distraction. Not this year." Mrs. Isley continued.

Pamela- again- nodded. "Of course, Mother." A silence descended once more, and- again- it was Pamela who disrupted it. "I won my tennis match yesterday."

"Weren't you expected to?" Mrs. Isley asked.

"Yes." Pamela told her.

An emotionless smile crept onto her mother's lips. "Then that's not exactly noteworthy, is it?"