"There's nothing normal here," Harley quipped with missing a beat, "which is lucky for me!"

'Lucky' was another one of those words she pronounced all big somehow, with lots of bared teeth.

She glanced past him at the bed, and seemed just about ready to maneuver him on it, except -- "Wait, no, I know how that goes," she said, with a theatrical shake of her head. To herself, mostly. "Nuh uh, if I don't get ya outta your clothes first, I'll be comin' on your jean-clad thigh or knee or something before I even realize what's happening."

Which was why when her hands left his ass - with one last appreciative parting pat - they went straight for his shirts, instead.