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you're burning like a fire in my head

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Harley's bored. Has been bored since the walking celery incident; serving food's hardly as exhilarating – or exhausting – as a night on the town with the costumed crowd.

Not that she misses it.

She doesn't.

And she sure as hell doesn't miss a certain black-and-blue-clad vigilante. (The cute one with the humor and the nice ass, in case she wasn't clear, not the scowly one. Harley can't tell about his ass under all that cape.)

Even if she did, she wouldn't just be waiting for him to come to his senses, take the night off and ask her on a date.