Brushing the wig she'd rescued from its unceremonious resting place on the floor, Harley admires its color. Red, like fresh blood. It suits Kate. She'd been surprised when it came off, revealing a short bob underneath. Sure, it's a smart decision -- with hair like this, you're not anonymous for long -- but Harley's prefers the wig.
She tries it on. Now there's a makeover. The wavy strands settle on her shoulders, tickle her neck. She's never gone complete redhead before.
"Come back to bed," Kate beckons.
Now that's a request you don't decline. She slides back into the sheets and on top of the other woman. Her skin is as smooth as the silk around her and Harley's ready to drown in it.
"Whaddya think?" she asks to distract herself, twiddling her newly acquired red tresses. "Would I make a convincing Batwoman?"
Kate thumbs smooth over Harley's cheeks and tug down the edges of her lips. Yet Harley's grin is too strong to be destroyed. "You'd have to work on your scowl."
"Ever thought about what you're gonna do once all this is over? Use your name for a career change in baseball, perhaps?"
Kate's expression darkens. Way to ruin the mood. "This is never over. Once people hear of the Regime's collapse, how do you think they'll react? Criminals will want to use the confusion to strike again, and we have to be ready."
"Man, as vigilante you sure never catch a break."
"Mh, but I'm having one right now."