"They figure no one would miss us, if we die." Harley tells him frankly. "Guess my team would be the equivalent of your stormtroppers."

She nods at his next question. "Oh hell yeah I am. I have all sorts of nice things in my bag of tricks."

Like how she is matching him drink to drink, but doesn't seem affected at all.

When he pulls her closer by the waist, Harley shifts her position, so she is practically sitting in his lap. "Good or bad thing?"