Title: Kiss From a Rose (6/6)
Author: Allaine
Email: eac2nd@yahoo.com
Disclaimers: Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, along with the other residents of Gotham, are the property of DC Comics, the creators of "Batman: The Animated Series", and God knows who else. All other characters are my invention.
Feedback: As always, greatly desired and usually responded to.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: This takes place about 15-18 months after "It's Just Allergies" and "Life Don't Have to be No Bed of Roses", which you can read at FFN as well.
Distribution: If you want it, just ask.
Summary: Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn visit Gotham after being absent for over a year. A sequel to "Life Don't Have to be No Bed of Roses". Nuff said.

Chapter 6

"Never. Never."

"You've been saying that quite a lot."

"I will never, _never_ forgive you for making me sit through not one, but all THREE?"

"I needed you to - "

"Yes, I know," Oracle grumbled. "You wanted me to compare their body types to the security camera footage. And to do that, I had to watch over an hour's worth of lesbian porn. It was not very good porn, by the way. It was tawdry, even by their standards."

Bruce smiled as he sat in the Batcave. "I take it you've seen good porn, by comparison."

Her exasperated snarl could not be put into words.

His tone became serious. "Did you get anything?"

"They're very bad actresses. All six of them."

"Anything else?" Bruce muttered.

"The women who starred in the last two features - I got enough different camera angles to get a complete analysis of their bodies, and I don't think it's them. Height differences, mainly. The original actresses, I'm not completely sure, because the production values were the lowest. But it definitely could be them. The bust size on 'Ivy' is especially, um, notable."

"Mindy Mattson and Chrissy Skyler," he recalled. "They vanished a few months after the movie's release. I heard they made a lot of money doing private shows. Then nothing - some even speculated the Joker made them disappear during that streak of Harley-related murders."

"I heard Ivy was accusing the Joker of masterminding a frame," Oracle replied.

He frowned. "A lunatic like that can draw a lot of attention. Sometimes away from the real threat."

"Come on. You mean the porn stars are trying to frame their originals? What's the motive? Wait . . . uh, oh."

"What uh oh?"

"A limousine picked Poison Ivy up from Arkham a little while ago. It just lost the police tail."

He sighed and pulled the mask on. He didn't go out as often during the day, but - "I'm going to find them," Batman said.

"Roger. And Batman?"


"Never. You will never be forgiven. I'm going to buy more disinfectant now."

Ivy looked down at her chest, at the way the ropes binding her upper body and arms to her chair looped around her breasts. "Let me guess," she said disdainfully. "You learned this on a movie set."

Mindy Mattson leaned over her. The costume was obviously a second-rate imitation in a lighter shade of green Ivy hadn't worn in years. She was two inches too tall, and she obviously had implants. Other than that, she was basically Poison Ivy. trailer-park edition. "Well," she replied in a sultry tone of voice learned from a host of bad directors, "I've learned a lot about tying people up."

"Obviously," Ivy sneered.

"Sometimes," she went on, "you want to leave just the slightest bit of give in the ropes. That way the person can struggle out of them in an hour or so. Some people get their kicks watching girls do that. And then sometimes, when you have especially nasty plans, you want to make sure they're tied as tight as possible." She pulled slightly on the ropes. "Like now."

Ivy had a little experience with locking people up herself, and she didn't need an adult film actress to tell her there was no slack in the ropes. She didn't know what "especially nasty" meant, but if this girl even slightly copped a feel, she was going to annihilate her.

What was she thinking? She was _already_ going to annihilate the impostor.

She looked at Harley, who was similarly bound opposite her. Chrissy Skyler lounged insolently nearby. "Holding up, Harl?"

"Couldn't be better, Red," she replied. "But they're not working for the Joker."

"I already know. I'll tell you about it later."

"There _is_ no later," Mindy told them. "You're going to die today. You might as well tell her now."

Ivy glared at her. "Why the hell are you going to all the trouble of framing me, kidnapping us, and now kill us? What did we ever do to you? We made you famous!"

Chrissy suddenly laughed in her seat. "I told you, Mindy. Their egos are limitless. They always think it's about them!"

"I'm not a native Gothamite," Mindy informed them. "Chrissy here knows more about you criminal types than me." She walked in a circle around Ivy. "See, this has absolutely nothing to do with you. In fact, the two of you coming back here totally screwed with our plans. In _fact_," she said, "that's why we have to kill you."

Ivy and Harley looked dubiously at each other. "Huh?" they both asked.

"We're not trying to _frame_ you," Mindy said with exaggerated slowness. "We're going to _be_ you. At least, we will when you're gone again and you stop trying to hog the spotlight."

"I guess it's true," Ivy said after a moment. "You don't have to be a brainless bimbo to be a porn star. But it helps."

Mindy cuffed her on the back of her head.

"You better not do that again," Harley hissed at her.

"Oooh," Mindy said. "You two have been getting in our way for days. Well, we liked you better when no one knew where you were, and we'll like you even more when no one knows where the bodies are buried."

"So let me get this straight," Ivy said. "You want to be _us_?"

Chrissy nodded. "All those men slobbering over us when we did those small shows. You can _never_ look at a man the same way when he's completely under the sway of his own penis."

Ivy mentally conceded that she had a point.

"Even some of those big and scary Freaks," Mindy added. "They said they wished you were more like us."

When she found out who among the Iceberg crowd was letting their penises say such stupid things for them, Ivy was going to put poison sumac in their pants.

"And then when you two seemed like you didn't want to be criminals any more," Chrissy went on, "we decided we could do it better."

"But just when we were ready to pull the first big heist we'd been planning, that sleaze Jonesin announced we would be appearing in a new movie for him," Mindy said, snorting.

"Here we were, trying to reinvent ourselves, and that loser reminded everyone who we were. We didn't know it was you two tramps pretending to be us; we thought it was just a publicity stunt."

"Thought you'd like to impersonate us? Now you'll see what it's like the other way."

Harley began snoring.

"I really hope this is getting somewhere," Ivy said, bored. "Because if you framed us because you were angry we pretended to be you one night . . ."

"We were NOT framing you!" Mindy screamed at her. "We were killing him for payback, but we were the new Ivy and Harley. But because YOU were in town, everybody thought YOU did it. You fucking ruined our debut!"

Ivy's eyes popped. "You mean - we had absolutely nothing to do with last night? And now you're pissed because our names are in the papers?"

"We're going to take your places in Gotham's most famous criminals," Chrissy whined, "and you tripped us at the starting gate. That's why you have to die. They'll respect us when we replace the old versions - permanently."

Harley opened an eye and looked at Ivy. Ivy looked back.

Then they burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?!" Mindy asked shrilly.

Harley tried to tell her, but she couldn't stop laughing.

"You want to be us?" Ivy said, coughing. "Not that you ever could, but sure, go ahead and try!"

"You think the others _like_ copycats?" Harley asked. "They hate them! They get that all the time. Gosh, Ivy, now I know how Eddie feels about that Cluemaster guy."

"Batman shouldn't even be on their radar," Ivy sneered. "The Rogues will take you apart. Look at you - a cheap imitation. You don't even have the look, let alone the ability. And the press! Enjoy _their_ fickle hearts."

"Remember the first time they had an artist draw my picture for the local tabloids?" Harley asked, giggling. "They forgot the tassels and the mask . . ."

"And those hideous black pants!" Ivy remembered. "You looked like an idiot!"

"Remember when they said you killed Clayface . . ."

"Or when Clayface killed Catwoman . . ."

"Or when I was going to become a writer of romance novels!"

"Harlequin stories!"

They weren't even paying attention to their "replacements" any more. They just laughed and laughed.

When Ivy finally got control of herself again, Mindy was standing in front of her, shaking with rage. "You're just jealous," she hissed.

"Honey," Ivy said, realizing this for the first time, "I'm not going to miss anything about this town when I get home. All I need is sitting over there."

"Nice people - when they're medicated, anyway," Harley added.

Mindy pointed the gun at Ivy's head. "Then you can be together in hell."

Ivy sighed. "You know, I really wish I could see the look on your faces when the Rogues got you alone."

"But you're not going to. Nobody's going to rescue you."

"I know. Who do you think we are, Batgirl and Robin? Besides, we're not going to see it because we're going to get you first."

"Now see, that's what I heard," Mindy said. "You don't have to be a loon to be a criminal in Gotham, but it helps."

"You know how we were, I don't know, bonding? Or at least, sharing secrets on bonding?" Ivy asked. "Because in porn movies, the actors don't really want to escape. That's why they're _actors_. So the directors can get a little sloppy."


"Yeah, like not tying their feet."

Ivy heaved herself back, tipping her chair over. One leg kicked upwards as she fell, knocking the gun out of Mindy's hand. She landed on her back, still tied to her chair, unfortunately.

Fortunately, Harley had pulled herself to her feet, arched over by the chair. But her long legs enabled her to run, screaming, headlong into Mindy, causing them both to smash into a pile. Harley emerged first, still tied to the back of the chair. The seat and legs, however, were broken in pieces on the floor.

"And using cheap wooden chairs," Harley said. She kicked Mindy in the ribs. "And that was for hitting Red."

Chrissy then tackled her from behind, sending them both careening into the next room.

"And your partner's reaction time is truly lousy," Ivy told Mindy. "When something goes wrong, you can't just gape in disbelief for two minutes." Harley was right, the chairs _were_ cheap. The back had partially splintered, and she was rubbing the ropes against the edges.

Groaning, Mindy struggled into a position above Ivy. "You fucking bitch," she snarled. "I'm . . ."

"Don't talk," Ivy said. "You're too stupid. It's hurting my ears." She snapped the wooden plans underneath her back and brought her arms up. Grabbing Mindy by the hair, she pulled her head down and headbutted her. Mindy shrieked as she fell down again. Ivy looked at the red hair that had come loose in her hands. "Extensions," she said scornfully.

Despite their rough talk (and equally rough former careers), they were obviously much too soft. Ivy was on her feet and shrugging out of her ropes even before Mindy was standing again. Even if she had been standing, Ivy saw she wouldn't have had to put up a sweat. She spent several minutes pummeling her impostor into complete (no pun intended) submission - more than was necessary to defeat her, but just enough for her own liking.

Breathing heavily, she turned her head. The sounds of fighting had ceased in the other room. "Harley?" she called, momentarily worried.

Harley emerged from the other room. "What?"

"Well, how is she?"

She looked down at the shapeless mass that was recognizable only for its artificially enhanced bosom. "I think she's used to catfights being a little more evenly matched. Did you have to tenderize her?"


"Works for me," Harley replied, shrugging.

"What happened with Aidan, anyway?"

"They paid him. And he said he was tired of being treated like he was deaf, too."

"He _said_ that?"

"He wrote it on a piece of paper, anyway. Can we go to the South Pacific now?"

Ivy growled. That meal-mouthed Englishman was going to die seven deaths . . . she saw the look on Harley's face. As she often had to remind herself during those fits of vengeful, homicidal rage, there were priorities. And then there were priorities. "Sure," she said. "What's she going to do if we're gone an extra few days? Fire us?"

"And the babies. We can't leave the babies."

"Of course not, they're with our stuff."

"I'm surprised you don't burst into flame in the sun," Bullock said in the doorway.

"They're gone," Batman said, crouching over Mindy.


"Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. They were here, but now they're gone."

Bullock came in and looked around. "Wait a minute. You mean you didn't do this?"

He stood up. "It was like this when I arrived." He picked up the frayed ropes. "It appears these impostors may have abducted Harley and Ivy and brought them here."

"Christ," Renee said as she came in behind Bullock. "Mattson and Skyler must have really been insane."

Batman glanced at her. "How did you know it was them?"

"Their attorneys called us and wanted to know where Ivy was being held, since she'd been released from Arkham. And we caught their chauffer an hour ago. He confessed that they paid him to help these two."

"Commish told them not to go anywhere," Bullock said.

"We found the killers," Batman replied. "Did you want them hanging around afterwards?"

"I don't want you hanging around my crime scene either."

"Don't worry, I'll be gone before you know it."

Bullock glanced at Montoya. "As opposed to letting us watch like you always do?"

Renee sighed and pointed past him. "He's gone."

"Frigging flair for the dramatic."

"Red? Could you pass the lotion?"

Ivy sat up, mindless of the fact that she'd untied her bikini top. But then, the only other animals on the island were the hyenas, and they'd never shown the slightest interest beyond food and drooling on them. She snapped her fingers.

A root snaked out of the jungle encroaching on the golden sands, picked up the lotion (homemade, naturally), and brought it to Ivy.

"Thanks," she said, "but I can handle it from here."

The plant retreated.

"I wonder how Mindy and Chrissy are doing," Harley wondered, trying to lie still instead of writhing in pleasure at her touch.

"I have stopped wondering about anything in Gotham," Ivy replied.

"They weren't insane, just stupid," Harley recalled. "So they wouldn't have been sent to Arkham."

"No cushy mental hospital for them," Ivy said. "After all those women's prison flicks, it's their chance to be on a reality show."

"Um, Red? Your hands aren't moving."

"Oops. Sorry."

" . . . ahhhhh . . ."

"So, happier with the original?"

Harley grinned. "Definitely. Although I wonder if Mindy would have been more understanding when I wore her outfits."

"Trust me, Harl. We never would have fit into her tops."

The brown-haired girl tossed a look over her shoulder. "I like you better without clothes anyway."

"Like this?"


The End.