Harley’s jaw dropped, and for a full three seconds she could do nothing but stare. Sure, she knew he was here. Sure, she knew he was lookin’ for her. It had been the source of a good deal of frustration that she couldn’t find him. Or she couldn’t find a way to let him find her. But just at her lowest, there he was.
Then her feet were running before she’d even made up her mind to go to him. As if that were even a question. But she was halfway to him before she even realized she was moving. Her feet pounded against the hard concrete of the sidewalk, making little noise because of the soft soles. But to Harley’s way of thinking, it was because her feet just weren’t touching the ground. It was like one of those old romantic movies or something. Minus the burned clothing.
It took no time at all and she was close enough that she could see that it really was her Mr. J. She squealed and threw herself the last few feet, eager to be back in his arms. “PUDDIN’!”
Then all coherent speech ceased as Harley began raining kisses all over his face, her words coming out garbled or mumbled every time her lips got smushed against his skin. She was attempting to tell him everything that she’d seen and experienced since arriving, including seeing the Bat and Pammy and Catwoman, the zombies, the loser in his boxer shorts that tried to take her warehouse, the nutjob butterflies that wouldn’t tell her where he was, her excitement over his note, and how much she missed him.