Pamela now intimately understood what every sharp corner and light switch in her house felt like pressed into her back as she and Harley struggled to find a soft landing spot.

Harley was rough and insistent, her lips moving from Pam's lips, to her neck and back again, clawing at her jacket, freeing one of her arms and yanking her skirt up as she pushed her backwards onto the couch.

"Wait, H—,"

Harley was on top of her with a hand around her throat before Pamela could get a full sentence out.

"—Harley, I have an actual bed."

"Oh…" the blonde stilled, sitting up and removing her hand. "You wanna do it there?"

"Well, yes," Pam followed, unable to resist kissing her again. "It's more comfortable."

Harley scoffed, and without even a hint of sarcasm said, "More comfortable than this couch? I don't think so."

"Oh, Sweetheart," Pam chuckled, taking a fistful of Harley's hair and reciprocating her intensity, pulling her head back to drag her tongue up the column of Harley's throat, ending at her ear where she whispered, "I'm about to blow your mind."

Harley giggled, wrapping Pam's legs around her waist and standing. "Whatever you say, Red."

Fuck, this might be better than I thought, Pam realized as she clung to her, graciously ignoring the sound of ripping fabric coming from her skirt. It wasn't equipped with the necessary degree of flexibility and she wasn't going to fault Harley for that.

"This one, right?" Harley let her down once they arrived outside her bedroom, smoothly transitioning her hands from supporting Pam's thighs to sliding up her shirt and finding the clasp of her bra.

…the unclasping was less smooth, but you can't win them all.

Pamela pushed the door open as her answer, stepping out of her shoes and pulling Harley's sweatshirt over her head.

"I, uh, get to fuck you, right?" Harley asked in between kisses as Pam sat at the edge of the bed, the redhead tugging blindly at the waistband of her joggers.

Pam separated for a moment, laughing. "What? Of course."

"Thank god," Harley exhaled, unbuttoning Pam's blouse and helping to strip off own her joggers. "I thought maybe you'd just wanna kiss and stuff the first time."

Pam wiggled out of her skirt, throwing that into the same pile. "What am I, a Mormon?"

"Just checkin'," Harley smiled, expression laced with that same fiery mania Pam recognized from the ring. Though, as Harley shoved her back against the pillows, spreading her legs apart and crawling between them, Pam realized "hunger" might be a better descriptor.

/

The morning dawned earlier than Pam would have liked, the sunlight streaming through her open curtains rousing her from the sleep she considered well deserved.

She let her eyes rest on the original Tina Blau that hung on her wall, the world slowly coming into focus around it. Taking a deep breath, Pam rolled from her side to her back, glancing over to find Harley sprawled beside her, rather immodest in her sleeping position.

Pam took a moment to study her—her mess of a hairstyle, a fascinating juxtaposition to her peaceful expression, the curves of her muscles, the bruises and tattoos that decorated her pale skin…this was the type of girl Pam preferred to have one night stands with and then never see again. Unfortunately, their living situation was going to make that approach very difficult.

Last night was…good, though. Like…good. Even in her own mind, Pamela couldn't muster much eloquence at the moment. What Harley lacked in skill and experience she made up for in effort and…athleticism, certainly.

Pam smiled to herself as she sat up, careful not to wake Harley as this was day one of her sleep-all-day-for-two-days-straight routine. She stood slowly, feeling rested, but also like she could crawl back into bed and steal another hour or two of sleep. With a sigh, Pam reached for the robe that hung just inside her walk-in closet, wrapping it around her naked body and cinching it at the waist. She'd made it to the door before Harley's voice stopped her, the sound thick and gravely rather than high and clear like Pam was used to. Idly, she thought of Kate before turning around, finding Harley's eyes were still closed.

"You gonna make coffee?" She'd asked.

"In a bit," Pam answered, leaning against the doorway. "I have to water my plants first."

Harley opened one eye, the other remaining shut in protest. "You don't like to cuddle?"

Pamela found herself smiling at the question. "It depends…"

"On what?"

"On whom it is I'm cuddling with."

Harley's other eye inched open. "I think you might like cuddlin' with me."

"Oh?" Pam laughed.

"Yeah," Harley smiled back at her; face still sweet with sleep. "Cuz it usually ends up a little more than just that."

Pam bit her lip to contain her smile, more charmed by this display than she'd anticipated. "How about you take a shower, and then we can revisit."

Harley shook her head, snuggling deeper into the down pillows. "If you think I'm leavin' this bed, you're a crazy lady."

"My shower has plenty of room for two," Pam offered.

"Mmm…" Harley seemed to be taking the suggestion under consideration. "Gimme 10 minutes."

/

"It turns out, I might be old," Pamela announced upon entering Selina's office.

Selina didn't look up from whatever she was working on. "Go on…"

"Well," Pam invited herself to take a seat, setting her briefcase down (as she had yet to stop by her own office) and crossing one leg over the other. "I've essentially just taken part in three days of non-stop sex with a 23-year-old and the level of exhaustion I'm currently experiencing is frankly unprecedented."

Selina sighed, shaking her head and banging out the rest of her sentence on her laptop keyboard. "I did ask you to elaborate…"

"And that was your mistake," Pam pointed out.

"And that was my mistake," Selina agreed, closing her computer. "OK, I'm going to ask you a series of questions, you're going to respond in one-word answers, and then I never want to speak about this again. Understood?"

"I can't promise—,"

"Does she seriously have a 'Lucky You' tattoo?"

"Unfortunately."

"Mouth?"

"Improving."

"Fingers?"

"Endorsed."

"The upper body strength, though…"

"Spectacular."

"Enthusiasm?"

"Otherworldly."

Selina took a deep breath, internalizing that information. "Alright. Thank you for your honesty."

"You're welcome," Pam granted, watching Bruce push Selina's glass door open to join them.

"Did you get the updated contract?" He was asking.

Selina opened her laptop again, scrolling quickly before shaking her head. "No, how'd you send it?"

"Fax," Bruce answered like it was obvious, inspiring a visibly negative reaction from both Pam and his wife. "What?" he demanded. "We needed ink signatures and I wasn't going to get them from her in person."

"From whom?" Pam asked, curious now.

Selina stood, walking over to her fax machine to make sure it was on. "Talia."

Pam suddenly felt a bit behind the eight ball here. "Why did Talia need a new contract?"

"So she'd agree to retire," Selina's answer was distracted as she pressed the power button to no avail. "Your little slip of the tongue forced us to renegotiate her entire deal."

"It's unplugged," Bruce pointed out, nodding towards the power cord leading to nowhere.

"Goddamn it," Selina muttered, squatting down to find the plug, but soon realizing it was a lack of outlets causing her problem. With a sigh, she returned to her desk, pressing the intercom button on her desk phone. "Paging Tim, I need another surge protector in here."

Pam sat forward, trying to get Selina back to what she felt the more important thread was here. "You spoke with Talia after I tested her?"

"Yes?" Selina told her like she wasn't sure why she was making this 'a thing'. "I did my job, much like you should have been doing, and we agreed to terms for the rest of the season."

"So, she isn't retiring?" Pam attempted to clarify.

"No, she is," Bruce spoke up. "We just have to pay her more for her remaining matches and hang up her most recent title gloves with a plaque outside the arena."

Pamela's brow furrowed. "So the result of she and Harley's fight was pre-determined?"

"Of course—ah, thank you, Tim," Selina smiled at the tech intern as he delivered her surge protector, then quickly scurried out of her office. "So odd, that one," she commented wistfully once he'd gone.

Bruce finally took a seat, choosing the one next to Pamela. "I heard he and Stephanie Brown are an item."

"No!" Selina was shocked, though it didn't stop her from finally getting the fax machine up and running.

"Hold on!" Pam felt she needed to re-gain control of the situation. "Talia told me all bets were off."

"Yes," Selina acknowledged. "But then she reconsidered because she's not an idiot. Did you really think Harley could beat Talia al Ghul? She only had a month of preparation with Slade. He's good, but he's no miracle worker."

Pamela sunk back into the leather of her chair with a certain dejection.

"Oh, come on, Isley, just because she's not the best or the brightest doesn't mean she can't make you happy," Bruce was trying to cheer her up, but for some reason it made her want to punch him in the face.

"Yeah, come on," Selina piggy backed. "Go get your body rocked by a 23-year-old."

"Alright," Pamela stood, gathering her briefcase. "I think that's quite enough for today."

"Body be bangin', Pammy!" Selina shouted after her. "Enjoy it while it lasts!"

/

Harley didn't resume training until Tuesday, so Pam knew there'd be nowhere for her to be but home when she returned from work that Monday evening.

She didn't expect to find Harley on the patio, however. Didn't expect to find her moonwalking in front of Pam's barbeque to Britney Spears' Toxic, utilizing the outdoor speaker system that Pamela had installed for the house parties she and Barbara used to throw. And she certainly didn't expect to find her wearing nothing but a pair of her new underwear, shirtless aside from Pamela's robe, which she'd neglected to tie.

She was burning whatever she was attempting to grill, that much was obvious. But Pam still waited a beat before making her presence known. "I see you mastered the sound system."

Harley turned; her features overtaken by a lopsided grin when she saw Pam leaning against the bi-fold doors. "Red!" she set down the spatula she'd been using as her lip-synching microphone and brought the music down a few notches from her phone. "I'm makin' dinner for us."

"You're burning dinner," Pam pointed out, nodding towards the billowing smoke.

Harley shook her head, adamant. "Tryna get that char on it, that's all."

"Right," Pam smirked. "Well, I'm going to get on the treadmill for a little while, you can—,"

"No, wait, hold on!" Harley stopped her, closing the lid on the barbeque and turning the burners off before bounding over and wrapping her arms around Pamela's waist, giving her an overzealous kiss on the cheek. "How was work?"

"Boring," Pam answered, allowing her body to relax only slightly into the younger woman's embrace. "Like always."

"Oh," Harley frowned, a bit disappointed, it seemed. "That sucks. Did you talk to Selina?"

Pam wasn't sure where this was going, so her response was cautious. "Yes…"

"She say anything about me?"

"Like what?"

"Like…that she's proud of me or somethin'? For takin' Talia down?" Harley was hopeful.

Pam cleared her throat, having arrived at a crossroads that she wasn't expecting to feel this uncomfortable. "She said keep up the good work."

Harley smiled happily, kissing Pam on the lips this time before separating to return to her cooking. Pam took that as her cue to leave…though she did linger in the doorway for another moment, taking in Harley's appearance with a bit more appreciation now.

"Harleen?"

The blonde's ears perked up.

"I'd like to see you in my bedroom after you've finished eating whatever is left of that meat you're abusing. And don't change." She added. "Come as you are."

"Copy that, Dr. Isley," Harley saluted her.

Pamela had to turn away before Harley could see her smile, finally starting back into the house and promising herself she'd get some actual cardio in before giving in to her more carnal desires.

"…you mean to bang, right?"

Christ.