"Is it true you convinced Slade Wilson to coach Harley?"
Pamela didn't stop at the question, choosing instead to continue her short walk to the executive conference room. "That is true, yes."
The footsteps behind her quickened, Damian Wayne appearing beside her, and then speeding up to jog backwards in front of her so they could maintain a face to face conversation. "How'd you do it?"
"Blackmail," Pam answered simply, silencing her phone when it vibrated in her hand. "How else?"
Damian grinned, an altogether foreign expression for him. "That's messed up, I bet my father expected better of you."
"I can assure you he does not," Pam said, stopping outside the conference room. "What do you want, kid? I'm busy."
"Bullshit," Damian nodded towards the conference room's posted schedule. "You're 10 minutes early for your meeting and I want in."
Pam raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Into my formal budget submission for enhanced on-site specimen and materials storage?"
Damian rolled his eyes like he was disappointed in her. "No, not into your boring meeting, you nerd. I want Wilson to train me."
"I'm not the Slade Wilson czar, if you…" Pam was distracted when her phone vibrated again, checking the caller ID to see it was her mother (for the 3rd time this morning). "…if you want him to train you, you'll have to speak with him directly. Though, I wouldn't get your hopes up. For one, he's an asshole who only took Harley on out of self-preservation. And secondly, I know for a fact your father doesn't want you to start accumulating head injuries this young."
"I'm 15!" Damian caviled. "Father doesn't know what's good for me."
"Right, sure, whatever," Pam just wanted this conversation to be over with, so she took the brave step of clicking on her missed call, raising her phone to her ear. "Go do your homework."
Damian left out a huff, leaving Pamela alone outside the conference room, waiting for her mother to pick up. It took longer than it should have, based on how insistently Lillian had been trying to get a hold of her for the last month.
"I've got 5 minutes," she announced once the line was live. "What could possibly be important enough to warrant 3 phone calls in one morning?"
"Why hello, daughter," the passive aggression was palpable in her mother's tone. "So good to finally hear your voice again."
Pamela sighed. "I'm walking into a budget meeting. Is there something specific you were hoping to discuss or is this a social call?"
"Well, your father's officially dying, thought you might like to know," Lillian answered flippantly. "My bridge club recommended hiring hospice services, and what a terrible thing it is to have strangers crawling about your home at all hours."
Pam tucked her tablet under her arm, using her now free hand to massage her temples. "Yes, I'm sure the medical professionals you've hired are quite the nuisance."
"They wear those awful croc sandals," Lillian balked. "The squeaking! It's enough to drive a woman mad."
"Yes, well, I'm so glad you've found a way to make this about you."
Lillian chose not to respond to that. "In any case, I've booked you a ticket out of JFK tomorrow—,"
"Mother, no," Pam found her hand had clenched into a fist. "For one, I live in Gotham and we have our own airport here."
"Yes, but it's so dirty, Pamela…"
"And secondly, I'm in the middle of my season," Pam continued. "This is all extremely inconvenient. I have a lot on my plate right now."
Lillian scoffed. "If you think I'm going to allow you to get out of saying goodbye to your father so you can continue to entertain another degenerate female house guest, you—,"
"Cancel the ticket, Mother," Pam cut her off. "I'll let you know if my schedule clears up." She hung up before Lillian could get another word in and leaned against the glass wall of the conference room, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her phone like a lifeline.
Bruce's voice startled her. "Are you ready to begin?"
Pam blinked, standing upright and turning to acknowledge him with a humanoid smile. "Yes. Did you get the overview I sent last night?"
"I did," Bruce said, opening the door for her.
/
Harley was still visibly sweaty from her training session when she shuffled into the kitchen, making a b-line for the fridge. She reached for the leftover Chinese food that had spent the last three days stinking up Pam's house, but Pam was quick to slam the refrigerator door shut, nearly catching Harley's arm inside.
"No."
"Hey!" Harley protested. "What gives? I'm hungry!"
Pam placed herself between Harley and the fridge. "You're overweight."
Harley was offended. "Says who?"
"Slade," Pam told her. "He sent over some very specific instructions for your diet. Look," she gestured towards the stove. "I'm making you dinner, isn't that kind of me?"
Harley looked like she might cry. "Red, c'mon, that looks so gross."
Pam tried to not let that knock her pride. "It's chicken. You eat chicken all the time."
"Yeah!" Harley agreed. "Wings and strips!"
"Just sit down and watch your tiger show," Pam waved her away, annoyed. "I'm trying to do you a favor here, and you can't win if you don't make weight."
Harley leaned against the island in a huff, trying to blow the bangs that were matted to her forehead out of her face. "Slade told me you guys don't like each other because you're a controlling bitch and he's a crotchety old man, but because you guys hooked up."
"I also told you that," Pam reminded her, stirring the green beans on the stove.
"Are you a lesbian?"
"I am," Pam answered before fully registering the question.
"How come?"
"To disappoint my mother," Pam joked, before deciding to take the conversation more seriously. "It certainly wasn't something I chose, just…a gift that was bestowed upon me," she winked, which made Harley smile.
"Damian said you used to sleep with Kate Kane."
"Why are you and Damian—,"
"Why did you do that?" Harley wondered.
"Because I found her attractive."
"But she's married."
"Because I choose to reserve the moral high ground for other aspects of my life," Pam amended.
Harley frowned. "Hm."
"Sorry to disappoint?" Pam offered.
Harley shook her head, refusing the apology and watching the chicken breast as it sizzled in the pan. After a moment, she asked, "Do you think I'm a good person?"
"Well, you're the bad guy now, remember?" Pam teased, turning off the burner and reaching above her for a plate.
"Oh, right," Harley grinned, sounding relieved. "Duh."
/
Pamela watched the syringe fill with blood, removing the needle once it'd reached capacity. Silently, she labeled the vial with Talia's full name and ID number and filed it away.
Talia sat silently aside from the slow, rhythmic tapping of her fingernails against the side of the examination table. Her dark eyes flitted to the clock on the wall rather than watch Pamela retrieve the mouth swabs.
"You know the drill," Pam instructed upon her return, and Talia went through the motions, opening her mouth with a sigh so Pam could collect her samples.
The two women had never developed much of a relationship. Maybe because Talia was not exactly her type and Pam found it exceedingly difficult to foster meaningful connection with people she wasn't attracted to…or maybe it was because Pamela found Talia deeply uninteresting. Either way, Pamela didn't look forward to rousing conversations during their testing sessions.
But Pam was feeling oddly lonely at the moment, so she cleared her throat, deciding to attempt some human bonding with this woman before watching her pee. "So, you vs. Quinzel, huh? That should be interesting."
Talia paused a moment before responding, like she was weighing whether engaging was worth it. "Since when does boxing interest you?"
See, this is why Talia wasn't Pam's type, two bitchy power bottoms did not make for a fun night.
"Oh, I'm learning to appreciate the strategy in it," Pam offered her a work-colleague appropriate smile. "I was surprised when Selina told me you were hanging up the gloves after this season, though. Can't be easy to say goodbye to it all, I'm sure."
That certainly captured Talia's attention. "I'm sorry?" She asked, sitting up straighter. "Did you just say I'm retiring after this season?"
Pam cocked her head in confusion. "Well…yes…at least that's how this fight between you and Quinzel was pitched to me. It's supposed to be a changing of the guards, according to Bruce and Selina."
Talia laughed, though the sound was devoid of humor. "Is that right?"
Pamela was beginning to realize she'd made a mistake. "Yes, I'm—I'm sorry, I assumed you'd taken part in a strategy meeting."
"The fuck I did." The rage in her movements was obvious as Talia hopped down off the table, green eyes blazing. She stormed towards the door and was out in the hallway before Pam could react.
Shit. "Hey!" Pam yelled after her, holding up her empty sample cup. "I still need your urine!"
"We both know you're going to find HGH in there!" Talia shouted back over her shoulder as she power walked towards the gym. "I'll take the fine!"
Pam was now jogging after her, stripping off her PPE as she went. "But I still have to catalogue it!"
"It can wait!"
She knew why Talia had set her course for the gym and not the executive floor—it was 4pm, and 4pm was when Bruce used the gym for his own training routine. Talia no doubt knew she could more easily appeal her case to him rather than Selina, they did have a child together, after all. Besides, for all the weight Selina threw around, ultimately Bruce was her superior, he had final say on everything from talent acquisition, to matchups and strategy, to budget and compensation.
But Bruce was not in the gym today. Slade had requested a special training time, so when Talia shoved the double doors open, she was greeted with the sight of Harley standing in the practice ring, opposite…Damian, as Slade observed.
"Quinzel, if your feet stop again, I will make you jump rope until you puke," Slade was saying, paying little mind to their visitor.
Pam finally caught up, slowing to a stop beside Talia as she witnessed the scene in front of her.
"Damian," Talia said, her tone cool, getting his attention immediately. "What are you doing?"
The boy dropped his stance, Harley turning to look too, though she continued to bounce in place. "Hello, Mother," he greeted, putting some space between he and the blonde. "I didn't know you were training today."
"I could say the same for you."
This interaction reminded Pamela very much of the many uncomfortable moments she and her mother had shared.
"I—I know Father doesn't approve of my training, but—,"
"I don't care what your father approves of," Talia cut him off. "Why are you training with them?"
Damian shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, so Slade took the lead. "He wanted some pointers, so I said he could be Quinzel's sparring partner. Don't worry," he assured her. "They've had very little contact, we're really just working on finding our angles today."
That did not console Talia. In fact, she put a hand up to silence Slade like he, too, was a child. "You're aware she's my next opponent?" she addressed Damian.
He nodded.
"And did you know your father and stepmother are trying to force me into retirement?"
"No, Mother," Damian mumbled. "I did not."
Harley's panting and the muted tap of her bare feet on the mat were the only sounds in the gym for what felt like an eternity to Pamela.
"You're not coming with me," Talia realized after Damian made no move to leave the ring. "You'd rather stay and train with them."
"Yes, Mother," he muttered.
Talia began to nod her head, slowly backing up towards the door. "You can tell Selina all bets are off," she told Pam before turning to leave. "And I'm not giving you my piss."
"Right, except for it's not optional," Pamela felt the need to remind her…though Talia was already gone, and now Slade, Damian and Harley were all staring at her. Pam cleared her throat. "I don't often make mistakes, but that one was my bad."
"Get out of my gym," Slade growled. "Now."
/
Harley was trying her best to take deep, controlled breaths as they waited for her music cue. Talia would enter first, so they had a while to wait, but Harley was still antsy.
Pam had never waited in the tunnel before, so she wasn't sure if this was part of her normal routine or if she was practicing a calming technique from Slade, but from the way her coach was watching her, it seemed he was pleased.
They'd specially ordered a new robe for her, one that was two-tone, red and black, embroidered with black diamonds on the red side to really embrace the jester motif. It'd arrived just in time and Harley was absolutely in love with it. Pam, however, was a bit distracted by the sharpie that Harley had chosen to decorate her jaw with. Her face now read "Rotten" in sloppy handwriting.
"Mother has a sneaky right hook," Damian was saying, whether to Harley or Slade, Pam wasn't sure. "She tries to throw people off by dropping her left shoulder, but—,"
Harley plugged her ears and shut her eyes tight. "I know, Kid! Just lemme do my thing."
That's when the spotlight flared up, finding the opposite tunnel as the announcer's microphone crackled.
"HELLO AND WELCOME LADIES AND GENTS, TO THE NIGHT GOTHAM CITY HAS BEEN WAITING FOR, THE BATTLE OF THE BADDIES!"
The crowd roared to life, and Pam watched as Harley let her hands fall away from her ears, though her eyes remained closed.
"FIRST UP, THE DAUGHTER OF DARKNESS HERSELF, OUR RESIDENT EVIL-DOER, TALIA AL GHULLLLLL!"
Savage…
Savage…
Going, going, going savage…
Her music started with a haunting female vocal, and Pamela watched on the jumbotron as Talia stepped from the shadows, though her features remained obscured by her dark hood.
I do not wait to die
The brunette's head moved on her neck like a snake, pulsating as her body remained still.
Staring into Judas's eyes
She took a small step forward then, though her head remained down, seeming to take the shadows of the tunnel with her.
You didn't wanna be loyal
You didn't wanna be kind
Overestimated yourself there, baby
Underestimated my time
Pamela glanced back at Slade, puzzled. This was all considerably less demonic than Talia's typical displays. Slade remained stone faced. By the time she'd returned her attention to the jumbotron, Talia had raised one of her hands high into the air…and then extended her middle finger.
Yeah, you's a counterfeit
Carbon copy, fraud, no real
Imitation, gods only cry when caught in a lie
Talia continued her slow journey towards the stage, proudly maintaining her FUCK YOU the entire way while her gaze remained downcast.
Snakes and vines, they live untamed,
They climb my walls, they hug my pain
Pam wasn't quite sure who this display was for. Bruce and Selina? Harley? Damian? All likely answers, but whatever the reason, it seemed to be bumming everyone out.
Carbon copy, fraud, no real
Imitation, gods only cry when caught in a lie
Talia was met with boos when she finally entered the ring, electing to use the stairs rather than climb over the ropes and walk straight to the stool in her corner without fanfare.
"NOW PLEASE, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR YOUR NEW MISTRESS OF MAYHEM, HARLEEN QUINZEL!"
Harley's eyes snapped open when she heard her name, like the words had activated her. Slade grabbed her shoulders, grounding her one last time before they lost her to the ring.
"Remember," he said, his face inches from hers to ensure she'd hear him over the music. "Your anger is a tool, you control it. Don't let it control you."
Harley nodded, looking to Pam next, who offered her a surprisingly nervous smile. Everything was a lot more visceral down here. "Don't worry, Red," Harley grinned, her features changing from charming to maniacal as the lights found her. "I'm the bad guy."
…and that's when the music started, with a catchy bassline and snare combination that Harley began to bounce to, shifting from one foot to the other, her shoulders loose and head nodding to the beat.
White shirt now red, my bloody nose
Sleepin', you're on your tippy toes
Creepin' around like no one knows
Think you're so criminal
"Oh no," Pam said aloud as Harley continued to dance up the walkway like she was at a rave, realization dawning.
"I think she may have taken the assignment too literally!" Damian yelled over the music.
Harley's bouncing turned to stomps powerful enough for Pam to feel the vibrations.
So you're a tough guy
Like it really rough guy
Just can't get enough guy
Chest always so puffed guy
She dropped down on her hands for some clapping pushups that the crowd seemed to love.
…Pamela too, she was a fan, though she didn't feel the need to scream about it.
I'm that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad tight
Might seduce your dad type
Harley stood, acknowledging the crowd like Megan Rapinoe at the world cup, both arms raised, feet together.
I'm the baaaad guy.
From that position, Harley tucked one arm into her stomach like she was about to take a bow, but did a front flip instead, landing smoothly with one foot and then the other.
…duh!
She pumped her fist in the air, clearly as delighted as the crowd was was by her antics and continued stomping her way up to the ring.
I'm the bad guy
Her head banging became more violent, though she maintained that crazed smile, licking her finger to smear it over her "Rotten" face art.
I like it when you take control
Even if you know that you don't
Own me, I'll let you play the role
I'll be your animal
She untied her robe in one motion, allowing it to slip off her as she crawled under the ropes like the girl from the ring, her back and shoulder muscles flexing.
I'm only good at being bad
She ended her slithering army crawl with an extremely sexual thrust of her hips.
I like when you get mad…
"OK, Harley, wrap it up!" Slade said like she could hear him.
I mean, I don't see what she sees
But maybe it's cuz I'm wearing your cologne
"This isn't Magic Mike!"
I'm a bad guy
I'm, I'm a bad guy
"Listen, I think it's important for Harley to be able to express herself," Pam found herself saying.
Ha!
Slade sighed, shaking his head like he was disappointed and starting down the walkway. "Let's go, Damian."
The boy followed, Pam waiting a beat to gather herself and shake that off before starting her own journey.
She sat in one of Harley's two reserved ringside seats, Damian taking the other one while Slade stood in her corner tying Harley's gloves. He grabbed her by the back of the head once the gloves were secure, pulling her close to share one last piece of mysterious wisdom before shoving her mouth guard into place and releasing her.
Talia, who had finally taken her hood and robe off, had her hair done up in tight braids, looking considerably more prepared and professional than Harley in her colorful pigtails. At the very least, Slade had insisted the ends of her hair be looped back through their ties, making them cute little buns for the time being.
They both refused to touch gloves in the middle of the ring, so eventually the referee gave up and the bell was rung, beginning the fight.
Harley's feet started moving first, though she didn't charge at her opponent, just danced up and down in place, her gloves raised to protect her face.
Talia's body remained completely still, her gloves down at her sides, eyes tracking Harley like a predator.
The blonde faltered slightly at this; she was clearly finding the other woman's affect strange. She advanced carefully, taking two steps forward but then one step back, gloves bobbing in front of her face. Still, Talia had no reaction, so Harley decided to take a shot just to test the waters.
She threw a jab first, which Talia easily blocked, then a cross to the body, which Talia absorbed by flexing her abs and curling inward.
"Don't fall for it," Damian muttered under his breath.
And then Talia walked away. Just…walked to the other side of the ring, like she was completely unbothered by anything that was going on around her.
So Harley dropped her gloves, her brow furrowing as she turned to Slade to see if he knew what was going on.
…and that was clearly mistake.
Harley was on her knees after one punch that landed solidly just below her ear. And Talia stood over her, silent and imposing, until the referee pushed her back to separate them.
"Goddamn it, Harley!" Slade shouted. "What are we doing out here?"
The blonde used the ropes to get back on her feet, cracking her neck as the referee reset them. She knocked her gloves together, restarting her feet and protecting her face as she approached Talia again.
Talia dropped her lead shoulder like she was doing to jab at Harley's body, but then recoiled, throwing a hook with her right hand instead, just like Damian had warned.
Harley blocked the hook, which left her body exposed for the uppercut that came next, and then the quick jab to the face that split her lip in two.
Pamela winced with pain that was not her own and watched as that familiar fire lit behind Harley's eyes.
Goddamn it, she thought, feeling like she was about to watch a different cut of the same movie.
"Use it, Harley! Use it!" Slade's voice was barely audible over the raucous crowd.
Pam watched as Harley took a visible breath, her chest heaving, stance tightening. And Talia laughed, like a literal supervillain.
"Let's go, hotshot!" she said, the words a big garbled through her mouthguard. "Thought you were the new me!"
Come on, Harley, Pam held her bottom lip between her teeth, more invested in this altercation than any other before it.
The blonde again attacked with a simple jab, aiming for Talia's face, and then her body, and following that up with a right hook that caught Talia's shoulder but didn't do much damage.
The bell rang to signal the end of the first round and Pam let out a sigh of relief. Harley had managed to keep her cool, which at this point, felt like a massive victory. She couldn't tell what Slade was saying to her from this distance, but the pat on the head he gave her seemed reassuring.
Harley's eyes searched the crowd after swallowing down her squirt of water, finding Pam's and remaining locked there while Slade dabbed at her bloody lip with a towel.
Pam didn't know what Harley was looking for in that moment. Wasn't sure what she could offer. So she landed on an admittedly awkward double thumbs up, which Harley seemed to appreciate because she raised her glove in response…before realizing her thumb wasn't visible or mobile at the moment.
Slade yanked her focus back to the task at hand by clapping in her face, grabbing her by the jaw and telling her "Let's do this", which was easy enough for to Pamela to lip read.
It was the 6th round before Talia made a mistake. Both athletes were tired, that much was obvious. Harley's footwork had slowed, her protection a bit lazier than before, while Talia was more engaged, clearly looking for a way to end this fight. Pam knew Talia would need to win with authority or Bruce and Selina would never reconsider her forced retirement.
Talia attacked, attempting to jab Harley in the stomach, though the blonde twisted, her oblique taking the brunt of it. From that position, Harley used her momentum to twist in the other direction, taking her glove with her in a massive left hook that Talia was not expecting. The force split Talia's face open just above her eye, blood streaming down into her vision, and Harley took that opportunity to land a strike from the other side—first with a right hook, and then with a series of uppercuts that she didn't stop until Talia was doubled over on her glove.
The fight ended with a strike to Talia's temple, her nearly limp body falling sideways with the force of it, leaving her spitting blood onto the ground while Harley stood above her, victorious.
Pamela was on her feet before she could stop herself, screaming at the top of her lungs in a voice she didn't recognize.
The referee raised Harley's glove while the medical staff attended to Talia, and Harley beamed.
/
Pam waited in the locker room for Harley to be escorted safely out of the ring and through the crowd. She had the strangest excitement bubbling in her chest like she was about to meet a celebrity rather than the homeless woman who slept on her couch.
Harley's eyes lit up when she saw her, her smile reinjuring her lip and causing it to bleed. But she didn't seem to care. "I fuckin did it, Red!"
Slade was behind her with a hand on her shoulder. "I'll see you on Tuesday, alright?"
"Yeah, alright," Harley grinned, turning to him. "Thanks, Coach. I couldn't have done it without'cha."
"Well, we'll do it better next time," he responded, trying to keep his tone gruff, although Pam thought she may have caught a hint of a smile somewhere in his permanently sullen expression. He gave Harley another pat, nodded cordially at Pamela, and then left them be.
"You did it," Pam reiterated with a smile of her own, though it was short lived as she was suddenly being slammed back against the metal lockers, Harley's lips crashing against hers, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth.
Any protest died in her throat as Harley brought her tongue into play, the blonde's hand fisting in Pam's red hair, her other hand pinning her hips against the lockers.
She let out an involuntary moan when Harley pulled away, though their foreheads were still pressed firmly together, Harley's breathing ragged.
"I'm really hopin' that's somethin' you wanted."
"I—," Pam swallowed. "I'd like a lot more than that."