Pamela's face was swollen when she woke up. It was dark now, but even so the air stung her eyes when she blinked them open.
The only light in the room was coming from the bathroom, which was confusing until Pam glanced at the alarm clock, seeing that it was past midnight.
"Oh, hey."
Pam heard Harley before she saw her, the blonde pushing the bathroom door open and forcing Pam's eyes shut once more to avoid the sudden onslaught of light.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Harley chuckled as she sat down on the bed and leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Solid nap?"
"The kids…" Pam mumbled. "I didn't—,"
"I took care of it," Harley assured her with a smile, her hand rubbing soothing circles on Pam's back.
"And the plants—I didn't water the plants." Pam hurriedly tried to sit up, but the sudden movement gave her a headache.
"Oh my God, I'm not an imbecile," Harley teased. "You really think I couldn't handle picking up the kids and watering the plants? I put pants on today too, aren't you proud?"
Pam's voice was still thick with sleep and raspy from crying. "All of them? You watered them all?"
"Well…almost. I missed one." the blonde admitted with a sigh. "But we're gonna remedy that right now." She slipped her arm beneath Pam's knees and used to other to support her back.
Pam let herself be lifted out of bed, wrapping her arms around Harley's neck so she wasn't just dead weight. But even still she mumbled a weak protest: "I don't want to take a shower."
"Good thing it's a bath, then." Harley set her down on the bathroom sink, and for the first time, Pam realized she was already naked.
She peaked over Harley's shoulder to see her suit laying discarded on the floor. "Bruce wants that back."
"Hm?" Harley turned around to follow her gaze. "Ah, yeah. I'll fold it." She winked, shutting both faucets off. "You know…I think I owe this house an apology. Remember when I used to trash talk the separate bath and shower?"
Pam nodded slowly, her attention traveling to the warm water that awaited her.
"Well I take it all back," Harley told her matter-of-factly. "And I really hope we don't ever have to move again because I simply refuse to go back to the barbaric ways of my past."
Pam cracked a small smile, mostly because she knew Harley was trying. That seemed to satisfy the blonde as she grinned, and helped her down off the counter, steadying her as she stepped one leg at a time into the bathtub.
The water was warmer than expected; scalding, even. But Pam pushed any thought of discomfort aside, as she recognized the bath's necessity. She ached all over, feeling generally lethargic and sore…she was dehydrated, and her unique hybrid physiology required both percutaneous absorption and oral consumption of water to restore homeostasis.
Harley leaned back against the counter to watch her, smoothing her hands over her wrinkled t-shirt in a show of nervous energy.
Pam didn't know what she wanted, exactly, nor did she know how to communicate it…so she just moved forward in the tub, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head on her forearms.
Harleen drummed her fingers on the counter for a moment before exhaling and lifting her shirt over her head, slipping her underwear off and stepping into the water.
She sat in the back of the tub, not pulling Pam close like she'd hoped she would, but instead dipping her hand into the water and lifting a wet finger to draw designs on the green skin of Pam's back.
"What are you drawing?" She asked, twisting her head to try and see.
"Nuh-uh…" Harley used Pam's chin to turn her gaze forward once more. "You have to guess. That's the game."
Pam sighed, closing her eyes and trying to visualize the shape as Harley repeated it over and over again. "It's a heart." She guessed.
"That was just a warm-up. Too easy," Harley wiped her back off like one would a dry erase board—which Pam found endearing, for some reason—"Alright…" the blonde started her next shape.
True to her word, this one was more difficult, but it made Pam smile when she finally realized what it was. "An elementary attempt at an anatomically correct heart?"
"Elementary?" Harley scoffed, though Pam could feel the smile on her lips when she pressed a kiss to her 'canvas'. "I'd like to see you do better."
The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either as Harley reverently traced the vines in Pam's shoulders (a source of endless fascination for her). The silence felt weighted, and Pam felt the need to apologize for the vulnerability she'd shown…but then Harley was gently urging her backwards and Pam obliged, leaning her weight against Harley's chest.
The blonde was tracing the vines on Pam's chest and down her sides now, watching the path her fingers took. Pam eventually surrendered herself to the soothing patterns, her eyes slipping closed and the world beginning to melt away.
"Hey…" Harley's whisper pulled her back. "Be honest with me…you think you could take Batman?"
Pam would have furrowed her brow if she hadn't been so exhausted. "He knows my weaknesses and would exploit them." She murmured.
"Well, yeah…" Harley conceded. "But let's say one-on-one. Mono y mono. Say…say he did something awful—like killed me—and you just went full on cruel Mother Nature on 'im. You think you could beat him?"
"Yes, of course." Pam assured her. "Why? Is Bruce planning on murdering you?"
"No," Harley chuckled. "But—what about Flash? Is he immune to your pheromones?"
"…not that I know of," Pam answered cautiously, not sure where this was headed.
"Hal?"
"I've taken down a Lantern before."
"Alright…" Harley seemed to be thinking. "Well what about Superman? What if you laced your special lipstick with kryptonite or something?"
"It would take some engineering…but I don't see why that wouldn't work." Pam vouched as she craned her neck to look up at her wife. "Why?"
Harley shrugged, brushing Pam's damp hair away from her face. "I was just thinking it's sort of funny how, in torturing you, Woodrue guaranteed he would be the last man to ever touch you." A wistful smile played on her lips as she continued. "Funny that a man who targeted you for your vulnerability made you almost completely invulnerable. That a man who prayed on women created one of the most empowered, outspoken feminist heroes the world has ever seen. That in subjecting you to his brutality, he insured that more girls would be able to spot predatory behavior early—since you're talking about it now and all. Poetic justice, I'd say."
As Pam listened, her heart began to beat a little faster, wishing they weren't descending back down this rabbit hole. "Yes, I can see the irony."
Harley cleared her throat. "That coach I had the affair with—,"
"The married 38-year-old man who you couldn't legally consent to?" Pam attempted to clarify, her disgust with the situation evident in her tone.
"The very same…" Harley moved Pam's hair aside to kiss her neck. "I think I was 10 when I met him…and I'm sure all the warning signs were there even then. I'm sure he started grooming me the second I stepped into the gym that first day—in my sparkly leotard with those silly pigtails and the Wonder Woman backpack I stole…" She chuckled, but Pam heard very little humor in the sound. "I wonder—if there was someone like you out there when I was a kid, talking about these issues…I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just thinking about Jo and how she's entering into a very similar environment and how she's so much better equipped than I was—how much she likes herself, how much she trusts herself and believes in her abilities—and I…if we can do that for our daughter, inspire that in her…maybe you could do that for other kids too."
The thought of her daughter having to navigate the same cruel world she and Harley had been made Pam's skin crawl. "That's a lot to think about."
"Yeah, well…I didn't have anything better to do today," her breath was warm against Pam's ear. "And I realized that my legacy—any imprint I'll leave on this planet—is yours and mine together. My kids are half yours, people can't talk about my career without mentioning Poison Ivy—the only contribution that is mine alone is Batwoman, and that's more of a thankless, suffer in silence type gig."
Pam tried her best not to sound hurt. "I'm sorry if you feel like I've monopolized your life…"
"That's not what I said…" Harley exhaled, wrapping a lock of red hair around her finger. "But I'd love to leave this world knowing I helped more people than just you, and that I was more than just someone's wife."
Almost panicked, Pam spun around in the tub, sloshing water onto the floor as she ended up on her knees in front of the other woman. "Harleen, you are so much more than that. You are a mother to—," she realized that didn't sound much better and attempted to backtrack. "I'm not some husband—,"
"—obviously," Harley interrupted to nod her head in the direction of Pam's bare breasts.
"That's obviously not what I meant," Pam huffed as she took Harley's hands in hers. "We're not my parents, Harleen. I don't regard you as simply attractive set dressing. We're partners."
"I know that," Harleen acknowledged with a smile, using Pam's grip on her hands to pull her onto her lap. "I'm your last secret, Pamela…" she dropped Pam's hands to encircle her waist. "And the only platform I have is the one I share with you." She leaned forward to kiss her softly. "Don't let your fear fuck up this opportunity. Even the strongest people can be victims, Babe, and you said it yourself: it's not your fault. I'm not saying don't feel angry. I'm not saying don't feel sad or hurt…I'm saying don't let this keep you from the world anymore. There are people out there who need you. Who have been waiting for you. And every person you help, every battle you win is vindication for me—a testament to your progress and to my life's work."
Pamela took in the full image of her wife: the small wrinkles around her eyes, the smile lines, the way her hair curled in the humidity…
This was a call to action. Like so many times in her life, Pamela was being given another purpose, another responsibility…but the way Harleen asked her, how she pleaded with those still childish blue eyes…she knew she could never say no—to a responsibility or to Harleen Quinzel. Pamela would let her back break under the weight of it all before she denied this woman.
And that's what love is.
/
"I'm sorry, that's…never happened before."
"Actually, it's the third time this month," Selina reminded him with a sigh, smoothing the covers over her chest.
"Just—give me a minute, alright?" Bruce was defensive as he turned away from her.
Selina rolled her eyes. "Bruce, really…it's fine. Although I honestly don't understand your reluctance about getting a Viagra prescription."
"I don't need it," he growled his response, preoccupied by a fruitless endeavor.
"Sure, Big Guy." She pat him on the shoulder. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, really. Evidently it's a problem for like 18 million American men. And—you know—we're old, so…I think we deserve a round of applause for even trying anymore."
"I'm not getting a Viagra prescription," Bruce grumbled, giving up and begrudgingly pulling his boxers back on.
"OK, fine." Selina propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. "It's embarrassing, I get it. Hurts your bat-pride and all that. But hey! Lucky us, we happen to be good friends with a pretty decent chemist. If Pam can help her dwife stop hearing voices, she can definitely get you a boner."
Bruce lolled his head to face her, an eyebrow raised. "Dwife?"
"Doctor-wife," she told him like it was obvious.
"You want me to ask Poison Ivy to manufacture erectile dysfunction medication for me? Are you serious?" Bruce was incredulous.
Selina shrugged. "Or we could see if she could help you out the old fashioned way—because clearly I can't anymore."
"Oh yeah, that's the problem." Bruce scoffed. "I was thinking of the woman in bed with me rather than the happily married lesbian I watched transform into a plant monster."
Selina stifled a laugh. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."
Bruce smirked, reaching to brush a piece of dyed black hair away from her eye. "Did you end up talking to Harleen today?"
"No, the bitch canceled our gym date," Selina grumbled. "Sent me a text that said she was letting herself go."
"Ivy didn't report to The Watchtower today either," Bruce remarked.
"Saw that one coming…" Selina muttered.
"Did Barbara tell you she and Dick are getting married?" Bruce changed the subject, clearly wanting to avoid a rehashing of that morning's argument.
"Oh?" Selina laughed. "Well I'm really glad they made sure they liked each other first."
"We've been sleeping together for way longer than they have, and last I checked you weren't Selina Wayne." Bruce reminded her.
She was laughing again. "Oh, come now, Darling. There's more than one way to make a family."
Bruce turned to her fully now, mirroring her by propping himself on his elbow. "Would you like to marry me?"
"Oh—no, not really." Selina chuckled, placing her hand on his cheek and giving him a firm kiss. "Not because I don't love you, and not because I plan to spend the rest of my time on this earth with anybody else…but it just seems stupid at this point. Unless you're planning on kicking me out, in which case 'yes, yes! A million times yes!'"
"Alright, well…fine." Bruce rolled over in defeat, opening the drawer of his bedside table. "But I know you like shiny things, so…" he tossed her a black velvet box.
There was no masking the surprise on her face. "You…you bought me a ring?"
"Well, no…I didn't buy it." Bruce admitted, picking up the box off of the comforter and opening the lid, revealing the engagement ring Selina immediately recognized from all the Wayne family photos. "Sorry, it was my Mother's, so you can't sell it."
Selina's throat went dry, and when she spoke, it came out a choked whisper. "But your Mother—she means so much to you."
"I'm sorry if I ever gave off the impression that you don't." He shut the box and was starting to return it to the drawer when she stopped him.
"No! I—can I say no to the marriage and yes to the ring?"