Somewhere on the Mainland; Tuesday Evening

It was rare these days that Harley had plans, let alone ones that were less immediate than later in the same day at most. Funny what power a "could be free Tuesday" spoken on a Thursday could have! Because now it was Tuesday, and the "could be" had turned into an "am" - and Harley had plans she'd actually put a little bit of effort into!

Or bribed Cass to do something for her ahead of time on the mainland. Potayto, tomahto.

They'd taken the car off the island. It was parked a few blocks away now, to draw less attention to where they were actually going - which was a warehouse, but an old-timey one, all nice red brick, one whose actual warehouse days were long gone. If Marc had paid attention to any of the signage before they'd rounded the corner to the back of the building, he may have caught something about "circus arts".

Harley consulted Cass's messages on her phone to find the right door, then stepped up to it, and rapped a rhythmic knock against it. It wasn't Shave and a Haircut; it was something much more convoluted than that.

"Us circus folk like an elaborate knock," she told Marc with a smirk.

She was not actually circus folk except by a very long stretch, and the knock she'd just performed would not be familiar to anyone.

(NFB and for the one gently modded)

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"Well I might've been thinking of you when I pulled it aside," Harley admitted, "so it's not like ya don't got the chops!"

She turned more towards the bed, and tilted her head, and gestured at the sign.

"But that's not a demand, either. Doesn't have to be pounding. Hell, doesn't even have to be sex! I mean, I don't know why you wouldn't wanna, but it's a perfectly valid choice, and ain't no sign gonna take that away from ya."

"Appreciate it," Marc said, and meant it. In spite of his earlier thoughts he wasn't thinking along those lines at this second. But it was nice to hear all the same. (One might almost say comforting, if Marc took comfort in things.)

He noticed the bowl. "That's not too fragile?"

He'd been there for mishaps with condom containers before. If one could classify "cause of" as "been there."

"Ha!" Harley exclaimed, bright and loud, and darted past him for the bedside table. She gave the bowl a demonstrative tug.

It didn't budge.

"I glued it on!"

That got a laugh out of Marc. Not mocking. More that he was appreciating the Harley of it all.

Harley beamed at him, absolutely thrilled by his reaction. She knew what a laugh like that meant from him! Even if she couldn't quite grasp the Harley of it, since to her, this should all just have been common sense.

"See! We can't knock it over anymore! How convenient is that?"

It was Harley sense. It was its own thing, and had its own charm.

"Sounds like a challenge," Marc said. Though he was aware that depending on how strong the glue was, there might not be a way to do it without actually breaking the furniture.

"And you can feel absolutely free to take it as one!" Harley told him. She patted the edge of the bowl, lovingly, then swanned right back over to Marc, reaching for his shoulders. "I think you might like a challenge, sometimes."

She went for shoulders, Marc reached for her hips.

"Depends on the challenge," Marc said. While looking at her.

"Being vexing's a challenge," Harley told him, expression full of cheery mischief.

"Here I thought it came natural," Marc replied.

"It does to me," Harley replied without missing a beat, idly rubbing his shoulder, "for you it's a challenge!"

"Fair," Marc said. "Hard to keep up with the expert."

Her, obviously.

Judging by Harley's smug smirk, that was the correct response.

"Damn right," she said. Leaning her face closer to his for absolutely no reason at all. "There's a challenge for ya, sweetie."

"Keeping up with you?" Marc took in their situation and held her hips a little tighter. "Looks like I caught you."

Harley glanced down and then made her eyes big, as if she'd just now noticed that.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Whatcha gonna do with that?"

"Hadn't decided," Marc said. Though he did try taking a step in the direction of the bed.

Harley took that step with him, backwards.

"What's this, we dancin'?"

She looked much too pleased with herself for that one.

"We're not fighting," Marc replied, to rule that out as an option for what they were doing.

"Aw, but we coulda sparred," Harley replied, tugging him along with her until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed.

"You feeling like hitting the gym right now?" Marc replied. He followed, leaning some of his weight on her.

"No, but I could go for some cardio."

And what was Harley supposed to do with his weight, except try and take him with her as ahe flopped backwards onto the bed?

Marc fell with her, pressing down harder than gravity demanded. "So not slow is what I'm hearing."

"Well I figured we might wanna try and honor the sign for its inaugural time overseeing us," Harley told him sunnily, getting her legs around his hips. Pants could wait awhile. "But first things first, sweetie..."

Gravity, schmavity, she drew him down to meet her for a kiss. Warm and heated and yeah, they were probably going to be at things here for a while. For the glory of the sign!

And maybe whatever the fuck it was that they'd hashed out between themselves, earlier.

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