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Harley was a smitten kitten - and not even over Catwoman.
She'd swung by Star City for a little fun, hoping to ruffle some feathers, just get a laugh out of brightening up the sour do-gooders of the city formerly known as Starling and all that. She hadn't intended to stick around for long, or fall for a fallen hero, but here she was, laying low and laying in bed with the former DA and former hero, Canary turned Siren.
Although somewhere in the haze of the previous night, she vaguely recalled Miss Lance saying she wasn't the right Miss Lance, but a Miss Lance from another earth which, was a little confusing, and Harley thinks she might have zoned out and just gone down on her at that point.
She sang like a canary though.
Maybe she'd stick around a little longer. Set up shop. Star City was no Gotham City - no matter how hard it seemed to be trying - but it was fun nonetheless. She and not-Black-Canary-but-Black-Siren could make a pretty good team, she was pretty sure. Though Miss Siren-not-Canary was a little smart, lot of bite to back of that ultrasonic bite - maybe Harley should stick with the fling, leave while things were still juicy sweet.
Nothing worse than something sweet turning sour. And Miss Lance who wasn't the right Lance - yeah, now that she thought about it, she did remember most of the talking last night was about not being the right Laurel Lance, not the good enough Lance, not the squeaky clean except when she drinks Lance - had a lot of baggage.
And Harley had tried the whole 'partner and shrink' package deal before. Not remotely a good combo - especially since she wasn't even licensed anymore.
Even smitten kittens will scram when the going gets rough.