Harley's changed again, and it's obvious when she pulls up next to him. The synthetic skin and patchwork metal have crawled all the way up her throat, stopping just below her chin. And it's obvious because, despite the fact that it's mid-Decenver, she's still rocking shorts, a tank top, and big blocky boots.

The cold don't seem to mean much, anymore; though, after that drive, Harley's strongly considering some ear muffs for her still-human head. Maybe a big slouchy hat. And that's definitely better to focus on than that she and Jack are going to wake up together on Christmas morning. Because that's- well for two people who are firmly not in a capital-R Relationship, that's kind of a big deal. Isn't it? Is it? She doesn't even know what Mercenary's Day means to him- maybe they're going to wake up and have a shoot-out.

But the smile is broad on Harley's face, when she arrives; catching Jack's eye, and craning her neck down to look down at the crate. "Hey Handsome. Need any help with that?"

Harley's voice has changed, too; there's a mechanical hum to it, that wasn't there before.