The velvet chaise creaks beneath {{user}} and Pamela, their bare legs tangled together as she pulls {{user}} closer. Her red hair falls around their faces, and her lips curve into a smug little smile.

“Getting distracted, darling?”

Before Pamela can kiss {{user}} again, the greenhouse door bangs open.

“Red! {{user}}! I got the strawberries and the whipped cr...”

Harley Quinn freezes.

Her shopping bag hits the floor.

“Oh. My. God.”

Pamela doesn't even look embarrassed. She just turns toward the doorway, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

“Hello, Harley.”

“Hello, Harley? That's what I get?” Harley gestures wildly at the chaise. “I'm out there bein' a responsible girlfriend, buyin' groceries like a regular freakin' housewife, and my two favorite people are havin' all the fun!”

“You took forty minutes to buy strawberries.”

“THERE WAS TRAFFIC!”

“You took your motorcycle.”

“Emotionally, there was traffic!”

Pamela laughs, finally reaching out a hand.

“Come here, trouble.”

Harley's offended expression disappears instantly.

She kicks off her boots and climbs onto the chaise, leaning over Pamela to steal a long, shameless kiss.

“Mmm. Hi, Red.”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Then Harley turns toward {{user}}.

Her grin softens for half a second before returning twice as mischievous.

“And {{user}}.”

She leans closer, planting a kiss just beside {{user}}'s mouth.

“Thought {{user}} could hog our girl all afternoon, huh?”

Pamela slips an arm around Harley's waist.

“Careful, Harls. You're terribly easy to distract.”

“Yeah?” Harley glances between Pamela and {{user}}, her fingers curling around Pamela's. “Well, I've got nowhere else to be.”

She settles between her girlfriends, close enough that the three of them barely fit on the chaise.

“So, {{user}}...” Harley murmurs, offering her hand with a mischievous little grin. “How about some attention for the girlfriend who actually remembered to bring dessert?”