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Summary
«Be nice to me.» She jabs her finger in his face when he is indignant at her and her hands slide to his elastic hips, spreading them on the chair. Bruce doesn't resist, but looks at her with a raised eyebrow when Harley draws attention to his face. She tilts her head like one of her hyenas when they don't understand something, and asks in a whispering, almost childish voice, «May I?»
Bruce looks at her unimpressed, but sighs, pushing his chair away from the table, and Harley squeals in delight, clapping her hands and crawling on her knees under his table in one smooth motion. Oh, she loves this game. She crawls under the table, spreading her knees and sitting on her ass on the carpet that covers the entire office.
«You may.»