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I look at you and it is like my throat being cut

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After many hours of sitting her butt sore, Harley can no longer hold out and drags them into a hotel for the night. Bonus: a real shower with real water. The hotel's a little on the shabby side, because what can you expect if you want to keep a low profile? At least no one's asking questions.

And at least her company ain't shabby at all.

"Wowzers," she exclaims when she barges into the bathroom. Pammy's dress is undone and hanging from her elbows. One look at her gorgeous spine and Harley's out of her jacket, cap, and boots in a heartbeat.

To her disappointment, Pammy shrugs on her dress again and locks it to her chest.

She doesn't turn around when she says, "Please, non. I don't want you to see me like this."

Harley peels off her gloves with her teeth, and gathers Pammy's red locks in one hand, revealing her exquisitely long neck. As her fingers trail down its length to her open collar and slip it off her shoulder, Harley's front aligns with Pammy's back.

"I told you green was my favorite." She offers a soft kiss to her skin. Pammy twitches away. "But if it bothers you... my beau has a little witch girl; I'm sure she can help you with your, ah... condition."

Pammy's frown is caught between deep-rooted disbelief and newly budding hope. "If she can't?"

"We'll find out," Harley says and captures her mouth in a searing kiss. "Just come with me."