It had been two days since her confrontation with Jay and Pam hadn't heard so much as a peep coming from the parlor. It was a pleasant surprise considering she hadn't expected Jay to keep his word. Then again, she reminded herself, it had only been two days. She'd give it a week before determining if Jay actually intended to stick to his promise permanently.
Pam looked up from arranging the new shipment of peonies that had arrived that morning when she heard the door chime. It was barely noon, still a little too early for Mrs. Pembroke to be visiting again. Then Pam saw the two bouncing blonde pigtails over a row of Baby's Breath and knew immediately who her newest customer was. A little flutter of excitement erupted in the pit of her stomach.
"Harley?" she asked, just to be sure, as she stepped around the endless rows of green. Harley spun around, the backpack she had slung over one shoulder nearly knocking a pot of roses to the ground.
"Hey, Red!" she exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her cheeks. It faded almost immediately though and Harley clasped her hands behind her back, shuffling her feet nervously. "I just wanted to stop by and apologize for the other day. You know, with the music and everything."
Pam didn't know how to respond at first. She hadn't been expecting the apology. "I—Thank you, Harley. But if anyone should be apologizing to me, it's Jay."
Harley's brows pulled together and she rubbed the back of her neck, struggling to formulate a response. That was when Pam saw the bruises. They covered her forearm, all the way up to the diamond pattern tattoo on her wrist. Pam felt her stomach twist, those marks certainly hadn't been there two days ago. Jay? It was possible she was jumping to conclusions, but after seeing the way Harley folded in on herself around him, Pam was almost certain that it had been Jay. Horror was quickly replaced by burning rage that anyone would lay a hand on someone as sweet as Harley. Or lay a hand on anybody, for that matter. But Pam caught herself before she could say anything she wouldn't be able to take back. Pointing out the bruises would no doubt make Harley uncomfortable, and Pam didn't want to scare her away. Briefly, Pam's mind drifted back to Woodrue, but she pushed the thoughts away before they could consume her.
Leave it for now, Pamela.
It was then that she realized Harley was staring at her, waiting for a response to some question that Pamela had missed.
"I'm sorry?"
Harley giggled at Pam's muddled expression. "I said, your shop is really pretty. It's nicer than the city park downtown!"
Pam agreed. She'd visited the park during her first week in Gotham, and the state of it had made her stomach turn. Litter, graffiti, nature stomped on, uncared for….
"I know," she said. "But that's because I actually care for the plants in here."
"What are these ones?" Harley asked, sticking her nose into a bouquet of pink and purple flowers.
"Chrysanthemums," Pam answered, watching Harley begin to wander around the shop, stopping every now and again to examine various flowers.
"I could spend hours in here," she mused, running her fingers lightly along one of the peonies petals. "Everything's so colorful."
"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like," Pam said before she'd processed her own words. "The shop doesn't see too many customers."
Harley's pink lips turned down into a frown. "Really? That's awful."
"I don't mind the quiet."
Harley mulled that over for a moment and then her eyes fell on the trailing ivies and her face lit up. "Say, Red, would you mind if I did some sketching? Today's my day off and I was gonna head down to the park, but your plants are so much prettier. I'll be real quiet and I'll stay out of the way while you work." Pam made the mistake of looking into Harley's eager face and her impossibly bright blue eyes.
"You can sketch." Harley grinned and reached into her backpack, nearly knocking over another pot in the process, and retrieved a bright yellow sketchpad from within.
"Thanks! I saw the vines and figured I might as well get some practice in. Customers come by the parlor all the time askin' for roses or vines or petals. Guess I'm lucky you moved in when you did, huh?" Harley finished with a meaningful wink and Pam felt heat rise in her cheeks.
Harley pulled a stool up to the ivies and plopped down with her sketchbook. She went quiet almost immediately, her tongue poking out between her lips as her hand flew nimbly over the paper. Pam watched her for a while, charmed by the way she frowned at the pad and then the ivies and then the pad again, her hand never stopping its dance across the page. Eventually, Pam went back to her work, shuffling through the shop. And to her credit, Harley kept her word. The shop was silent save for the scratch of her pencil. Pam made her rounds with the watering can. After a while, she moved around to the row of lavender behind Harley. She couldn't resist sneaking a glance at the sketch over Harley's shoulder and was shocked by the intricate design she saw.
"That's beautiful," Pam breathed, her eyes following the delicate pencil lines across the page. Harley jumped at the sound of her voice. Luckily she'd lifted her pencil off the paper, otherwise Pam was sure she would have just ruined the drawing Harley had spent a considerable amount of time working on.
"You think so?" She swiveled to give Pam a better view. "It's turning out alright, I guess."
"Alright?" Pam's tone was indignant. Her eyes flickered over the small daisies Harley had sketched around the edges of the page. "Harley, this is gorgeous. You're an incredibly talented artist."
Harley's blush spread all the way to the tips of her ears. "Thanks, Red," she said softly. "Hey, you don't mind, right? That I call you, Red?"
Well actually…Pam had been raised almost entirely by her mother. She'd been Pamela since the day she was born, never Pammy, rarely Pam, certainly never Red. Normally, a nickname that played on one of her physical attributes would have aggravated Pam, but coming from Harley, it felt sincere. Affectionate.
"I…I don't mind."
"Good!" Harley exclaimed, patting her sketchpad. "I probably shoulda asked earlier, but names just kinda come to me. Yours was pretty easy." She reached out and twirled a loose lock of red hair around her finger. Pam's breath caught in her throat as Harley played absently with the ends of her hair. After a moment, Harley glanced up, her eyes meeting Pam's. Another light blush tinted her cheeks as she pulled her hand away. She offered a nervous smile before returning to her sketch pad. "Anyway, I'm gonna keep doodling if that's alright with you."
"Absolutely." Pam picked up the watering can to still her trembling hands. She couldn't stop herself from studying Harley a moment longer. Her t-shirt had ridden up on her hips, allowing Pam an unabashed view of looped lettering tattooed on her lower back. She squinted to better read the print.
'I'm watching'
Pam's cheeks flushed when she realized she'd been staring at what was essentially Harley's ass for far longer than was appropriate.
This is getting ridiculous.
She spun away and hurried to her office, feeling Harley's eyes on her back as she retreated. Ignoring the unwelcome flutter in her stomach, Pam spent the next few hours bouncing between processing the shipment she'd received and catching up on the shop's paperwork. The tasks took her far longer than they normally would have because, for as quiet as Harley was being, Pam, for the life of her, could not seem to focus with the other woman so close by. Tedious record keeping was interrupted by images of Harley's various—well-placed-tattoos. Tending to the flowers led Pam's mind back to the beautiful designs she'd seen on Harley's sketchpad. Harley, however, seemed mostly oblivious to Pam's presence. She moved around the shop, stopping to sketch different flowers and Pam made a point to catch a glimpse of every new drawing before she moved on.
Eventually, Pam looked up at the clock above her office door, realizing with a start that it was already ten minutes past closing time. Grabbing the store keys from her office drawer, Pam locked the doors from the inside to ensure no other customers could wander into the store—as if that was an actual concern-and flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. She strolled towards the shelves of lilies where Harley sat hunched over her sketchpad.
"Harley?" Pam tapped the blonde's shoulder, gently, so as not to startle her. It didn't work. Harley jumped and whipped her head around, eyes wide, as if she'd forgotten that Pam had spent the entire day in the store as well. "Sorry," Pam amended. "I have to close up."
"Oh! Gee, I'm sorry, Red. If you needed to kick me out sooner, you could have just said. I don't wanna keep you." Harley stood and stretched, doing a little dance/shuffle to loosen her stiff legs. She glanced over Pam's shoulder at the clock on the wall. "Wow! Six hours!"
Pam nodded, just as surprised as Harley. The hours had flown by even though the two hadn't talked much during that time. Which was practically a crime, Pam realized. Because she wanted to know more about Harley apart from the tattoos, the spiked bracelets and the dyed hair.
"I know, it's getting late…." Pam began as Harley gathered up her things. She straightened her backpack on her shoulder and snorted, cocking a single brow.
"Late? You think 6 o'clock is late? You're probably one of those gals that eats dinner at four and is tucked in, all ready for bed at nine too, huh?" Harley dissolved into a fit of giggles that made her nose wrinkle.
"Occasionally," Pam replied matter-of-factly. Harley's giggling only intensified when she saw Pam's serious expression.
"I like you, Red. You're funny," she said, her lips quivering as she struggled to smother her own laughter.
Unabashedly honest, Pam thought, battling another blush. No one had ever connected the dots between Pamela Isley and funny. Harley just had an odd sense of humor.
"Anyway," Pam continued nervously, trying to redirect the conversation. "If it's not too inconvenient, I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee with me."
"Now?" Harley looked pleasantly surprised by the offer.
"If it's not too late," Pam teased, her lips quirking into a smirk. It took Harley a second to catch up with the banter and then an enormous grin broke out on her face. She laughed again, the sound reminding Pam of a wind chime.
"Sure, I'd love to!"
Pam quickly finished her cleaning duties, grabbed her bag and led Harley to the front door. She laughed when Harley tried to push it open only to realize, with a sheepish grin, that Pam had locked it. Once they were both outside, the doors dealt with, Pam looked up at the sky. The dark clouds that usually hung over Gotham had been replaced by wispy white ones this evening. Pam almost wanted to take it as a sign.
"So," Harley began as the two headed down the street, away from the tattoo parlor and flower shop. "How are you liking Gotham?"
"It's not too different from Seattle, actually. Gotham is…pleasant, I suppose. But three weeks is hardly enough time to judge," Pam replied.
"Why did you move away from Seattle?" Pam was silent for a beat too long. Harley noticed and prompted, "Family stuff?"
A grim smile twisted Pam's lips. "Something like that."
"My family lives in Brooklyn," Harley offered, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. "I haven't seen 'em in a while."
Harley somehow looked defeated by the admission, so Pam decided not to push that particular conversation. "Why did you come to Gotham?"
"I got a scholarship to the University." Pam was relieved to see her demeanor brighten almost immediately. "I used to be a gymnast!" She set her backpack down and spun ahead of Pam to do a little cartwheel as if to prove it. Pam picked up her backpack and handed it to her after Harley gave a little bow.
"Impressive."
Harley waggled her eyebrows. "Oh that's nothin'. You should see my split."
Pam wouldn't have been so affected by the innuendo if Harley hadn't been pinning her with such a pointed stare. Clearing her throat, she turned and led Harley down another narrow sidewalk.
"So, your major? Sports Sciences?"
"Nope," Harley popped the 'p' and scurried to catch up with Pam. "I was studyin' Psychology."
Now that was an answer Pam hadn't expected. It was no wonder she found this woman so intriguing. Harley was an amalgamation of contradictions. An enigma in every sense of the word.
"Psychology?"
"Yeah, I've always had an attraction for extreme personalities, ya know? I like gettin' into people's heads. Seein' what makes 'em tick."
That explains Jay, Pam mused mirthlessly. She paused the conversation now that they'd reached their destination. Pam opened the door of the homey coffee shop, standing aside for Harley, who thanked her with an exaggerated gasp and a flutter of her eyelashes.
"Chivalry is alive and well in you, Pammy," she teased. Pam just rolled her eyes and followed Harley inside. The coffee shop, Pam knew, was owned by a young woman named Barbara Gordon, the Police Commissioner's daughter. Barbara had been extremely welcoming to Pam during her first few days in Gotham. She'd even been the one to suggest that Pam visit the City Park upon learning that she'd opened a flower shop. The suggestion was one Pam still appreciated, even if the park had turned out to be an utter disappointment.
"Pam, hey!" Barbara greeted the other red head excitedly from her chair behind the counter.
"Barbara."
"Hey, cool chair!" Harley exclaimed, planting her hands on the counter and leaning over the edge to get a better look at Barbara's wheelchair. Pamela paled, her eyes locking onto Barbara's face, waiting for the moment that she would undoubtedly take offense to Harley's offhanded comment. But Barbara seemed to take Harley's unbridled enthusiasm in stride. She laughed and patted the wheelchair's handle bars.
"Thanks. I'm thinking about adding some racing stripes to it."
"Yes! You totally should!" Harley agreed, nodding her head rapidly. Barbara laughed again and Pam finally relaxed.
"So, what brings the savior of all things green in Gotham here today?" Barbara asked, her attention returning to Pam.
"Just a chat with a new friend." Pam watched as Harley pressed her face against the pastry case glass, visibly salivating over the goodies.
"Gotcha. The usual?" Barbara asked, rolling over to the display of teas and grabbing a bag of organic red rooibos for Pam.
"You know me well."
"And for…"
"Harley!" Harley dragged herself away from the pastry case and held out her hand for Barbara to shake. "Harley Quinn. Pleased to meetcha."
"Barbara Gordon," Barbara set Pam's tea bag in a mug and shook Harley's outstretched hand. "Good to meet you too, Harley. So, what can I get for you?"
Harley looked up at the board of drinks displayed above Barbara's head, looking completely overwhelmed.
"Uh, good question. Everything looks good."
Barbara eyed Harley up and down, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I think I have just the drink for you. Care for a surprise?"
"Hit me," Harley replied with a clap of her hands. Barbara cracked her knuckles and rolled to the espresso machine nearby while Pam set a few dollars down on the counter.
"This place is so cute," Harley whispered, gazing around the shop at the tiny tables decorated with little flower vases and paintings hung on the walls. "If you and Babs joined forces you'd have the most adorable shop in all of Gotham."
"Plants with coffee?"
"I mean she's got the vases right there, Red! It could work!"
Pam smiled and shook her head as Barbara returned with a large mug of something dark, probably filled with syrup, and covered in whipped cream and candied salt. Harley's eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
"Wow! What is it?" She picked up the mug and took a giant whiff of the drink, whipped cream dotting the end of her nose.
"A white chocolate, caramel syrup, breve mocha, with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle and salted caramel sprinkles. 'The Harley'," Barbara finished with a wink. Harley's mouth fell open and she stared at Barbara with enormous eyes.
"You named a drink after me?"
"Oh yeah." Barbara waved a hand nonchalantly. "I've got 'The Pam' too." She pointed to the mug of tea in Pam's hand. "Hers is just much easier."
Harley began to blubber her thanks and Pam grabbed her elbow, gently pulling her away from the counter after giving Barbara a grateful nod. She led Harley outside and took a seat at one of the tables in front of the shop. The sun was setting now and an orange glow colored the sidewalk and tables. It lit Harley's blonde hair, darkening the pink and blue tips.
"So," Pam said after Harley had taken the first sip of her sugar filled drink and 'ooohed' over it. "Psychology."
"Mhmmm. I wanted to be a psychiatrist." Harley's tongue darted out and caught a smudge of whipped cream on her lower lip. Pam was mesmerized for a moment before looking away.
"Are you still in school then?"
"No," Harley's voice was suddenly despondent. "I dropped out three years ago when I met Jay. He wanted help running the tattoo parlor and I just couldn't say no to him."
"You dropped out?" For a man? For him? Just like that? Pam didn't try to hide her disapproval and Harley must have sensed it because she shrunk in her seat.
"I….Well, yeah. I was havin' a little trouble in school and Jay needed help and I loved...love him…and it just felt right at the time, ya know?
"Hmm," Pam murmured noncommittally, taking a sip of her tea. "Do you think you might go back to it someday?"
"I dunno," Harley ran a finger around the rim of her cup. "It's been such a long time; I don't think I could. Plus, I'm older now. Goin' back to school at my age—"
Pam nearly choked on her tea. "At your age? How old are you?"
"I turn twenty-five in two weeks."
"Turning twenty-five does not make you too old to go back to school. There's no cutoff for getting an education. If you want to go back, then do it. Pursue your dreams, Harley." Harley was staring at her with an expression Pam couldn't interpret.
"You really think I could go back?" she asked quietly.
"Of course I do. If you want to, there's nothing stopping you." Except for Jay apparently. "You seem like a very intelligent woman, Harley. Struggling with schoolwork isn't uncommon. With the right motivation, you could easily go back and get your degree."
"Gee, Pam," Harley began softly, surprising Pamela when she neglected to use a nickname. "No one's ever said that stuff to me before. No one's made me feel like goin' back to school was something I could do." She paused and locked eyes with Pam. "Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me," Pam replied, her eyes falling on the bruises that dotted Harley's forearms. They were darker in the light of the setting sun. "It's the truth."
"Well, I'm gonna thank you anyways." She grinned and placed her hand on top of Pam's for a moment. Her fingers were soft and they traced a small circle on Pam's knuckles before moving away.
"So what about you?" Harley asked, returning to her drink before Pam had a chance to be flustered by the contact.
"What about me?"
"School, Pammy! A lady as smart as you has to have gone to school."
Right. Focus Pamela.
"I went to school in Seattle. I have a PhD in Botany and Plant Science," Pam explained toying with the string of her teabag.
Harley slammed her hands on the table so hard it made Pam jump. "You're a doctor? You got a PhD and you're runnin' a flower shop?"
Pam shrugged, a little offended by the insinuation that she wasn't doing enough. "I prefer the shop right now. Maybe someday, like you, I'll go back to it." Maybe someday when labs didn't make her envision Jason's awful sneer, or feel his rough hands all over her body or hear—Stop, Pamela. Breathe.
Harley was studying her face. Pam hadn't been able to hide the fact that their conversation had triggered something deep inside her.
"You…Okay?"
"Fine, sorry." Pam forced a tight smile. Eager to change the subject, she pointed to the small tattoos on Harley's legs. "Did you do these?"
Harley looked down at her legs. "Huh? Oh, yeah! I like to doodle and sometimes I doodle on myself…in permanent ink." She giggled at her own joke. Pam looked at the tattoos more closely. Diamonds, hearts, hatch marks, but one word in particular caught her attention.
Puddin
Pam couldn't quite decide what was more disturbing, that Harley willingly stayed with a man who clearly mistreated her, or that she marked her own body with his name whenever he didn't.
"You know what's funny?" Harley asked suddenly, pulling Pam out of her thoughts. "I actually hate needles."
"You hate needles? That sounds like an occupational hazard."
"I know, right? I can't stand 'em," Harley giggled. "But when I'm tattooing, that fear just disappears. Poof. I guess knowin' that it's not just pain for the sake of pain, that there's somethin' beautiful that's goin' to come from it, makes me less afraid."
Pam's brows bounced upwards as she considered Harley's analysis. "That's quite astute, Harley."
"See? I'm still puttin' my schoolin' to good use," Harley teased, poking her tongue out at Pam. She smiled back, and it was only when her cheeks hurt from the movement that she realized how much smiling she'd done around Harley in the past few hours. It was the most that she'd smiled, or laughed during her three weeks in Gotham put together.
The two continued to talk for another hour, Pam making sure to steer the conversation away from any deep-seated issues on either of their parts. There would be time for that later. She certainly planned on spending more time with Harley in the future. Pam stood as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the outside of the shop now lit solely by the streetlamps.
"We should go. It really is getting late now," Pam said, watching Harley use her finger to clean her mug of the rest of the sugar and whipped cream combo.
"After you, Pammy," she said, hopping to her feet. Pam took their mugs inside and bid Barbara a goodnight. When she came back outside, there was a considerable chill in the air. Unfortunately, neither she nor Harley had thought to bring a jacket. However, the walk to Pamela's apartment wasn't far, she could make it in ten minutes if she walked quickly.
"Come on," Harley said before Pam could part ways with her. She curled her fingers around Pam's wrist and tugged her forward. "I'll walk you home."
"Oh, you don't have to do that. I don't live far."
Harley looked aghast. "Pam! What kind of a date would I be if I didn't walk you home?"
"Oh, was this a date?" Pam cocked a single, slender brow. She could swear she saw Harley's cheeks turn pink in the darkness.
"Well, I dunno what else we would call it."
"Date it is then." Pam smiled and Harley perked up immediately, laughing and wrapping her arms around herself as the cold night closed in on them.
They walked for a good five minutes in comfortable silence, their shoulders brushing occasionally as they huddled close together for warmth. Finally, Harley broke the silence.
"You know, I was thinkin'. How would you like to come to the party?"
"Party?"
"Yeah! My birthday party!"
Right. Twenty-five. Two weeks. Keep up, Pamela. It was difficult, however, considering Harley's mind seemed to jump from subject to subject faster than Pamela could blink.
"It's not gonna be anything crazy. Just me, Jay and the guys from the shop. Tatsu said she'd be there too but she's so quiet I don't even think I should count her." Harley continued without Pam's input. "You can meet Boomer, too. Although…now that I think about it, the two of you might not get along that well."
"Is his name really Boomer?"
"Nah, it's George," Harley explained. "But we all call him Boomerang."
"….Why?"
"He really likes 'em."
"Likes what?"
"Boomerangs."
Pam stared at Harley for a few solid seconds and then shook her head and chuckled to herself.
"What?"
"You certainly have some colorful friends."
Harley nodded in agreement. "They're just like the flowers in your shop. Colorful. But some are kinda prickly and don't smell as nice as, say, your chrysanthemums."
Pam laughed again and leaned slightly into Harley's shoulder. She felt the blonde press back and nudge her gently.
"So, what do you say? Will you come?"
Pam mulled the offer over. Spending the night conversing with men like Jay and 'Boomerang' sounded like absolute torture. Alternatively, spending the night celebrating with Harley sounded much more pleasant. She supposed she would have to take the bad with the good.
"I'd love to."
Harley squeaked in excitement and pressed herself more firmly against Pam's side. They walked a few more blocks until they reached the apartment complex and Pam found she was loathe to move away from Harley's warmth.
"This is my stop," she said, forcing herself to take a few steps away from the blonde. Harley looked up at the old building, squinting to see it better in the darkness. She paused for a moment, disconcerted by the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
"Would you like to come in and warm up a bit?" Pam blurted, not wanting to leave Harley's company just yet. "Or at least take a jacket with you."
Harley shook her head, pigtails flipping around her face. "Nah, that's alright. I should get back as soon as I can, Jay's waiting for me."
"Ah." Of course.
"I had fun tonight," Harley offered, reaching out to take Pam's frozen fingers. She squeezed them deftly. "Next time we go out it's my treat."
Pam smiled and looked down at their hands, surprised that Harley's were still incredibly warm. When she looked back up, Harley's eyes locked with hers. They were close. Too close. And yet neither made a move to step away. Pam held her breathe, the pounding of her heart was nearly deafening. And then Harley squeezed her fingers again and bounced away, waving frantically as she bolted off into the night.
"Good night, Red!"
Pam was rooted to her spot on the sidewalk. She stood stock still, waiting for the pounding of her heart to wane. When it did, Pam turned and walked slowly into her apartment building, a small smile growing on her lips.
Good night, Harley.