This was not how Chase Meridian pictured her day would go.

A meeting with Bruce Wayne: Sure. Ever since the Riddler has been incarcerated in Arkham Asylum, Chase has not seen the illustrious billionaire and protector of Gotham for a while. Although she knew that Bruce Wayne's schedule is occupied with his dual identity, Chase wished that he could have visited her at least once.

So, it was a surprise that the CEO of Wayne Enterprises would contact her one day, asking to meet up at her office. For this special occasion, Chase dressed in her casual sport outfit: a black sports vest and a black jogging pants. As before, she was exercising, hitting the punching bag, ridding of all anger that would have been directed at Bruce for not visiting-nay, not caring, about her.

The doors open, and a well-dressed man enters.

"Bruce…fancy seeing you after all this time."

The infamous billionaire remains confident, yet Chase could see in his eyes the hesitation and anxiousness, irregular for a powerful man.

Seems like an ask more than a date.

"Chase...nice to see you too. May we have a seat at your table?"

Chase simply nods, not wanting to make a potential lover feel more uncomfortable with the subject of this meeting. She removes her boxing gloves, unravels the gauze wrapped along her hands, and sits. She smiles, making Bruce more relaxed.

Bruce sits opposite to her, smiling as well. He knows it's been too long since their last meeting, when he asks Chase to deduce whether Edward Nygma, a.k.a. The Riddler, knows his secret identity as the Batman. After Chase confirms Nygma's delusion of himself being the Batman, Bruce sighs with relief, and that was the last time they have ever spoken. In defense, he has indeed been busy as both managing Wayne Enterprises and defending Gotham, and now with the recent attack from Mr. Freeze and Poison Ivy, the latter in which is the subject of their meeting today.

"I think I'll just cut to the chase."

Chase laughs, sensing Bruce's attempt at lightening the mood.

"Intentional?"

Bruce smirks as else.

"Perhaps. It's a grand pursuit after all."

Chase smiles once more, intrigued at what Bruce's intentions may be. "Fine, I'll give you a listen. Continue."

Bruce nods. Sooner or later.

"First, I would like to apologize for ghosting you. My recent endeavors in running Wayne Enterprises and protecting Gotham have been taxing, despite the inclusion of the young acrobat you've seen before under…unfortunate circumstances."

Chase smirks. At least you were aware…and are decent enough to apologize.

"Yeah, yeah I understand. I've been an asshole to you, Chase. For that, I'm sorry."

"Aww, Bruce. Don't degrade yourself like that. You're the same man I admire and love. The fact that you told me your secret reaffirms my belief, and makes me feel closer to you. I'm glad you apologize first. For that, I forgive you, Bruce Wayne."

Bruce's smile largens. He feels elated, happy that Chase truly understands and accepts his complex identity.

"Now tell me what you want, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce sighs once more. He knows this feeling wouldn't last forever.

"The second reason I'm here, Dr. Meridian, is because I want you to perform your duties upon a certain patient you may have seen on the news. Poison Ivy. Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley. I'll pay you double your asking fee."

Chase raises his hand, interrupting Bruce's ask, clear of her answer before letting him finish.

"I'll do it for my standard fee, with two conditions: privacy, and free rein in the interview."

Bruce smirks. He guesses correctly that Chase will be interested in this. He also guesses correctly of her conditions in accepting his favor. If there's one thing he knows about Chase, it's that she's her own woman. A perfect match against Poison Ivy, the femme fatale of Gotham.

"Done. I'll deliver you a contract on behalf of Arkham Asylum. Shall we shake on it?"

Chase gets up and heads towards her drink cabinet, opening it to reveal an assortment of alcohols.

"Let's drink to it instead. What would you prefer, Mr. Wayne?"


Dr. Chase Meridian enters the Warden's office, eager to meet her subject promptly.

The Warden takes a sip from his alcoholic drink of the day, a scotch on the rocks, as he leans against his drink cabinet. A contract can be found on the Warden's table, alongside a brown manila envelope.

"Before you are to start your work, please kindly sign the contract Dr. Meridian. After your signature is present and permanent, please find the items you need in the manila envelope: Arkham ID Badge which grants full access, a tape recorder and tape, a notepad, a pen, and a taser."

Chase, ignoring the Warden's glance, marches to the table.

"Mr. Wayne specifically mentions that you'll be in charge of tape storage and that you prefer to work within your own office. Most unorthodox, but apparently your professional reputation is valuable enough to guarantee an accurate professional opinion, even when operating outside protocol. In addition, your professional reputation also buys you any other request, but mind you, please inform Mr. Wayne of those said requests as well."

She grabs the pen next to the contract and peruses it.

"It's been read over by Mr. Wayne and his corporate lawyers, Doctor."

"I know. But I want to read it."

After a few minutes of reading the whole contract, Chase signs her signature. She then puts down the pen and grabs the envelope, opening it and observing the items within.

After all items are in order, Chase nods towards the Warden, and heads back out.

"Warden, whose idea was the taser? You or Bruce?"

The Warden chuckles.

"Both, actually. Use it with care. The last thing I need is another controversy, not after what happened recently."

"Understood, and thank you, Warden."

"Care for a drink, Dr. Meridian?"

"No thank you Warden, I'm on duty. Now, I would like to meet Doctor Pamela Lillian Isley."


Chase was led by two guards to an interrogation room.

As guaranteed by the Warden, privacy is enforced. No security cameras, no recorders. Only her and Dr. Isley.

Chase takes her items out from both her purse and the manila envelope she was given. A pen, a notebook, a voice recorder, and recording tapes.

This is it. Time to see why Bruce Wayne gave this assignment to me.

Chase's eyes glance towards the door, as it revealed Doctor Pamela Lillian Isley, unkempt, dressed in prison garbs. Her hair was a mess, her makeup equally a mess. Yet, Chase realizes that the woman wasn't exactly a regular Arkham inmate.

Hmm…there's something…different …about this woman. Otherworldly, perhaps.

Two guards stood at the door, poised, waiting for Poison Ivy to sit at the table opposite of Dr. Meridian. Poison Ivy…no, Dr. Isley, stands up straight and holds her head high, as she approaches the table. She never breaks her gaze towards Dr. Meridian, and she never stops smiling.

As Dr. Isley sits across from her, Chase couldn't help but regards two distinctive physical traits: her glowing green eyes…and her ruby red lips.

She must be a formidable opponent…interesting.

"Guard, remove her cuffs please."

"Dr. Meridian, she—"

"Will be my responsibility. Thank you for your concern, but I'm sure Dr. Isley will be most cooperative. Right?"

Dr. Isley stares at her, bewildered. Who is this lady? Does she not know who I am?

Chase smirks, knowing that she has caught Dr. Isley by surprise.

"Right…Ivy?", Chase whispers, intending for only her target to hear.

Dr. Isley, taken aback, merely nods. She remains deep in thought, pondering over this unexpected meeting.

Well, well, she seems interesting. Let's see what she's up to, and best her at her game.

The guard, remaining stoic, takes the keys and uncuffs Dr. Isley, his gaze never leaving the plant lady.

"Very well, Dr. Meridian. She's all yours."

Chase smiles and nods confidently, assuaging the guard's fear and that of her own.

"If you need anything, just yell for us. At least one of us will be outside guarding. And don't even think about escaping, Pamela Isley. The doors can only be operated on the outside."

Dr. Isley sticks her tongue out at the guard in disgust, before the door is shut.

Dr. Isley returns her gaze to Chase, her smile widening.

"I wonder, Dr. Meridian, what tricks are you up to?"

Chase laughs, unexpected to Dr. Isley. She then brings up her purse and grabs one more item, revealing Ivy's switchblade, its design and colors instantly recognizable to Dr. Isley.

"Stand up, Dr. Isley.", Chase shouts in a commanding manner.

Dr. Isley, startled, immediately obeys, much to her reluctance.

Upon seeing her stand up, Chase does the same, and walks to her until she is in front.

Immediately, Dr. Isley recognizes Dr. Meridian's choice of clothing: a black lace nightie with black high heels. She remains surprised, aroused even, as to her choice of clothing.

Why would a professional wear such revealing seductive clothing?

Chase stares at Dr. Isley, staring into her emerald eyes. Minutes pass, and both women remain motionless. Dr. Isley stares just as intense as her psychiatrist, although she starts to feel uncomfortable.

Chase approaches closer to Dr. Isley, her breasts intimately touching Dr. Isley's breasts.

Dr. Isley feels Dr. Meridian's breath on her face, wanting to lose, yet her pride refuses.

No! I will not lose to the doctor. Mother Nature does not lose.

Sensing Dr. Isley's reluctance, Chase smirks and breaks her gaze, instead focusing on the switchblade in her hand. She then grabs Dr. Isley's hand and passes her the switchblade.

Dr. Isley's eyes widen, staring back at Dr. Meridian with a look of surprise. Her eyes widen even more when Dr. Meridian places the blade near her heart.

"Dr. Isley, my life is in your hands right now. If your heart desires it, push the switchblade towards my heart. End my life if you want."

Dr. Isley looks towards Dr. Meridian, an expression of bewilderment once again on her face.

Nobody tells Mother Nature what to do!

Yet, nobody…would be willing to give their life back to Mother Nature. Yet, she is willing.

This is all a trick by her, and yet, why am I willing to fall for it?

Why this woman? Could she be the one to truly understand me?

After several minutes passed at what seems like several hours, Dr. Isley drops the blade.

"Please, call me Ivy or Pamela, Dr. Meridian."

"Well then, Ivy, I insist you call me Chase."

Ivy smiles, and sits back on the chair. Chase kneels down, grabbing the switchblade; she then retreats to her seat, an understanding smile on her face.

"So, Chase, what would you like to discuss during this interview?"

"Before we start, Pamela, I would like you to know that the people privy to the interview and its contents are me and you. My professional opinion would either grant you parole, or it will change nothing. Now, the contents of the interview are up to you, Pamela, and I think you know what I need to hear and therefore what Arkham expects from you."

Ivy stares at the table, her fingers fidgeting, thinking of the topic to start with.

"It's your choice, Ivy."

Making up her mind, Ivy looks back at Chase, a determined look on her face.

"I'm ready, Chase."


Arkham Asylum: Poison Ivy. Patient Interview #3

Dr. Chase Meridian: Patient Interview: Pamela Lillian Isley. Supervising doctor: Doctor Chase Meridian, on special appointment. Patient has been incarcerated for a month, and is deemed fit for psycho-analysis. However, patient has been uncooperative and aggressive within the previous two interviews, the most recent interview resulting in patient resisting with force. To mitigate the risks associated, patient has been placed under extensive restraints, and the interviews will continue with a new doctor, i.e. yours truly, under Arkham senior management approval.

Dr. Chase Meridian: So…Pamela, anything on your mind today?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Well, Chase, I've been in Arkham for a while, and during that time, I've been thinking of the events that led to me being here right now.

Dr. Chase Meridian: You mean your transformation into Poison Ivy?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Well, we'll get to that later, hopefully. For now, I would like to talk about my childhood.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Okay. You have my attention, Pamela.

Dr. Pamela Isley: To begin, it all started with how I look. How would you describe my appearance as Poison Ivy, Doctor Chase?

Dr. Chase Meridian: (sighs) My first impression of you can be described with these words: Otherworldly, Powerful, Beautiful…

Dr. Pamela Isley: (laughs)

Dr. Chase Meridian: …Insane

Dr. Pamela Isley: (silence)

Dr. Chase Meridian: Well, you wanted my honest opinion of you, which of course includes the good…and the bad.

Dr. Pamela Isley: Yeah, well hopefully, Chase, I may be able to convince you that I'm just as sane as you.

Dr. Chase Meridian: (snorts)

Dr. Pamela Isley: Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, my appearance. Although I am beautiful, I was actually average. Freckles on my face. Chubby. Naïve.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Well, you were a kid, Pamela. No one could blame you for being naïve.

Dr. Pamela Isley: I agree, and I think most people would say I'm still naïve, when I say that plants are living creatures.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Hmm…

Dr. Pamela Isley: In fact, I frequented the garden, often talking to them. The flowers…they tell me things. They tell me when they're thirsty. They tell me when they're lonely.

Dr. Chase Meridian: I see…and do you still talk to them?

Dr. Pamela Isley: (deep breath) I do talk to them within my cell, when I look out over the bars on the horizon. I'm…lonely, Chase. I have nobody. I need…friends.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Well, I can be your friend, Pamela, if you're willing to accept me.

Dr. Pamela Isley: (laughs) Sure, why not? You're officially my friend, Chase.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Thanks, Pamela.

Dr. Pamela Isley: Anyways, I didn't talk to plants when I was "terrorizing" Gotham. However, as a kid, I did. But my parents did not care.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Why not?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Because all they care about is their own business…and ultimately their own wealth. To them, I'm just their property, and they expected me to be married to a wealthy socialite. They believe my…talking to plants will subside as I mature.

Dr. Chase Meridian: So, aside from talking to plants, your childhood was normal?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Yes. Just a kid living in her own fantasy, during her own childhood.

Dr. Chase Meridian: How about your mom? What was she like?

Dr. Pamela Isley: She encourages my fantasy. Unlike my dad, she was less of a realist and more of a dreamer, and perhaps she saw a bit of herself in me, hence her support.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Did she talked about anything else?

Dr. Pamela Isley: She loves to sew. As a child, I'm not too attracted towards it, but I indulge her interest and eventually learned to make my own clothing.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Did you make your Poison Ivy costume? I hear they're really beautiful.

Dr. Pamela Isley: Yeah, I did. I guess my minor in Fashion Design did help contribute towards my artistic vision. Also, they may be beautiful, but I heard the wearer looks like a goddess. (laughs)

Dr. Chase Meridian: (laughs) I'm sure she is. Only a goddess can create such ethereal looks.

Dr. Pamela Isley: My dad, on the other hand, hardly interacts with me.

Dr. Chase Meridian: On the rare moments of interaction, what did you talk about with him?

Dr. Pamela Isley: He asks about my studies, and my sewing session with my mom. He asks about my health.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Anything else?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Nothing. I'm just an item to him, an opportunity for more wealth within the Isley family.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Surely, he's just busy–.

Dr. Pamela Isley: Trust me, Chase. Don't defend him. He's not worth it.

Dr. Chase Meridian: Alright, well I guess we'll stop here. I think our first session is quite productive, don't you think?

Dr. Pamela Isley: I agree, Chase. And again, thank you.

Dr. Chase Meridian: For what?

Dr. Pamela Isley: Thank you for being my friend.

(tape ends)


Within the corner of Ivy's eyes, Chase could see tears flowing. She wanted to hug her, to comfort her and convince her of an optimistic future. Yet, she had to remain professional, as Ivy was technically her client.

"I'll let you finish crying, and when you're ready, I'll let the guards in."

Ivy looks up, giving a grateful smile to Chase. For the first time, Ivy did not mind being weak in front of her.

"Thank you, Chase."

Chase nods, giving an understanding look on her face.

"Take your time, Ivy."

The two women sat, as Ivy dried her tears up.

"Thank you for letting me maintain my image in Arkham, Chase."

"Of course, Ivy. Before I call the guards back in, any reasonable requests you want to suggest?"

Ivy ponders for a second, before a possible request crosses her mind.

"Is it possible to have female guards? I think it may be a bit inappropriate for male guards to look at me at my most…private moments."

"Hmm…that seems reasonable. I'll forward your request to the Warden, who I think will likely authorize it. However, for the female guards, it may not be instant, but eventually you will have them."

"I understand, Chase. Thank you."

Chase gives another subtle nod, and called for the guards. The two guards came in, cuffed Ivy's hands. Ivy stands up, confident, and walks seductively. On her way out the door, Ivy turns back, and gives a wink to Chase.

Chase smiles. Looks like today's a success!

Chase then walks out the door, ready to deliver her first interview progress and Ivy's request to the Warden.


Outside a nightclub, two women were having a break: a blonde-curled woman and a raven-haired woman.

The blonde was wearing a white corset, a white feather scarf, white thigh high stockings with a while garter belt, and complete with white high heels. Meanwhile, the raven-haired woman–well, black and purple hair–was wearing a black leather bustier with fishnet stockings, has tattoos, and carries a whip.

The blonde reads a newspaper, her eyes furtively searching for something. The raven-haired woman smokes, looking at the sunrise, amidst the tall skyscrapers.

"Anything, sugar?"

"Nah, hon. So far, I don't see it. Hopefully, her plan worked."

"It will work, dear. It's her game, after all."

"I know, I know, but so far, there's noth—"

The blonde's eyes widen, finding her intended target.

"FOUND IT!"

The raven-haired woman walks over to the blonde, looking at what the blonde saw.

Within a small box on the right of the newspaper page, an advertisement read:

Wanted! Arkham Asylum seeking women with experience in security!

If interested, please contact…

Before reading the rest of the advertisement, the blonde grabs the newspaper with one hand, and with her other hand grabs the raven-haired woman's hand.

"Where are we going?"

"To find a phone booth. It's time to serve the Goddess!"