The Maid of Mischief

"Oooh thas not half bad. Maybe two of em. What could possibly go wrong on Christmas?" Famous last words. Harley loved those. "What did ya say your name was again kid?"

Tira tucked her arms in close to her torso habitually when Harley seemed to just burst with excitement. It wasn’t something she was use to but— Didn’t seem like a bad thing. A tiny grin appeared on the pale girl’s face, taking a step to the side as her new acquaintance dove in and started to rifle around in the wardrobe.

Harley wasn't so hot at explaining things. She moved too fast, her thoughts raced too much and then changed direction. She didn't mind the questions. She was always full of them, particularly when it came to nifty new things she encountered. A sheet of cookies was removed from the oven and unceremoniously dumped onto a platter.

"Actually, I dodn’t want to tell it, but there was that journalist…" Natasha made a face. "I slipped out and I don’t really like to play by the rules either. What good does it make to keep it as a secret?

Harley laughed sort of awkwardly. Didn't she get it? Maybe she didn't get it. Should Harley explain it to her. Maybe not. Probably she'd figure it out eventually. The thought gave her a weird feeling--like that weird wriggling sensation in her stomach. Probably cause the dame wasn't half bad. Like she hadn't called the fuzz and was letting Harley see her fancy toys. But whatcouldja do. That was how the cookie crumbled. No pain no gain. And there was lotsa pain. Haha....nuts. Out loud she just said, "Yeah, rules are for suckers." 

"Yeah? I like that way ya think, kid. Hows about more of the lights right here in the middle. And more tinsel. And a couple more ornaments."