AN: Hey guys. Long time no...time? Ah-ah. *Stares nervously into the crowd. Brings up a trashcan lid to block thrown rotten tomatoes * Happy Holidays and a Merry Christmas to you all. I know that I've had my problems with this story, but I'm happy to say that I finally got it all down, and can begin working towards more interviews AND a story line. I know it sounds like a lame excuse (and is), but the reason I fight with updates for this story is: One. I want it to be PERFECT for you all. Two.I go back and forth on if you guys want JUST interviews, or JUST story line? Or BOTH? I literally go for circles in the back of my mind at work about this.
Anyhow, I think I got it all figured out. Prepare for a rapid updates for reals this time. With story line, and recurring characters and things! Yeah!
God, I'm terrible at this and don't deserve any of you lovely readers.
Special shout out to: DreamOrNightmare, TitansGirl1234, MillyCloud, THE Brandon Brownson, and SO many others for keeping my derp bum from just dying over my mess I've dug myself into. Seriously. You. All. Rock.
For those of your lovely readers that really enjoyed my story, and would LOVE *BETTER* ones, (and ones that update regularly): I HIGHLY suggest TitansGirl1234's story "Red Lips". Haunting, brilliant, and an extremely realistic twist of the Batman villains out in Gotham city, and not just sitting around in Arkham in my story. Plus, good ol' Harley/Mistah J.
I also HIGHLY suggest DreamOrNightmare's "Truth Or Dare?" Yet another Harley/Joker fic, but ohmygod, just, ohmygod. Joker's thoughts comparative to Harley's feelings and actions are just ah-mazing.
They're both just so ah-mazing fhsdjkfsdgd./
Merry Christmas (eve!), guys. c:
Wednesday. Unrecorded, unmarked, unnoticed.
Cellblock D. Midnight. After close.
"Well, well, well," Two dark emeralds faceted in wild orange hair burned across the room. A slender leg lifted and crossed itself, leaves twirling and wrapping along the muscles in the thigh, coiling up a calf. "This is…a surprise."
As they moved, Ivy's leaves chittered at Harleen expectantly with a soft rustle, like the hiss of snake from across the way, raising the hair on the blonde's lovely neck. "Your babies think otherwise."
"Them?" She raised a blazing eyebrow. "They're just attracted to how much carbon dioxide you produce, darling." Ivy crooned languidly. "Don't be so paranoid. You must be in a physical panic."
Harleen stepped smoothly into Ivy's cell, and to the redhead's surprise, didn't have her usual dress up props with her. She didn't have a clip board, or her lab coat, or even her heels. Harleen watched as Pamela Isley scrutinized her. She certainly didn't care. She was angry. She was pissed. She was livid.
"Pamela, I need to talk to you." The blonde's voice was mysteriously intense.
The dark skittering of leaves seemed to snickered at Harleen's request, but Ivy remained seated where she was—watching the harsh splash of moonlight crawl across the walls of her square cell like a child first seeing their reflection in a mirror. Harleen sought harder for her attention, bearing up her teeth and her courage as best as she could, she matched forward. Ivy's green eyes swung like a slowly growing storm forced to break upon the land that was Harleen's body. The doctor had on normal clothes—navy wool sweater, pencil velvet skirt, and black silk stockings that had the toes missing from the feet, and the young physiatrist could practically feeling the titles radiate heat into the worn heels of her feet.
"Talk? Right, well, that requires a certain co-signing from a certain jack assed Warden, if I'm not mistaken." Ivy's tone ran icy through Harleen's veins as she neared.
"This is my own personal time that I am in here. Last night my office was broken into."
Ivy's ruby lips blossomed into a drippingly delighted smile. "And you think it was bad ol' Ivy, don't you? Well of course you do, Harley-dear."
Harleen's paced forward, her foot padding leaving soft thumping sounds across the titles that made the many growing things in Ivy's cell nestling unsettlingly back and forth, like tiny turquoise snakes hypnotized by human flesh. For a heartbeat of a broken moment, Ivy nearly rose up in defense against such close proximity to another human before Harleen simply tossed herself onto the cot that Ivy sat on.
Now it was Ivy's turn to feel caught off-guard. She slowly turned her dark blood red curls to take in the fact that, yes, her demure doctor from so little ago was now laying on her bed, next to Pamela herself.
Ivy's sparklingly eyes raked over Harleen's, noting that the blue there was lined thickly with mascara as if she couldn't decide if she was dressing up to break into Arkham, or would walk in casually without suspicion. The blonde's soft tresses of yellow fanned across Ivy's mattress although it was shamelessly torn and dented with whatever choice office supply tool that was obviously not meant for holding it up. Harleen glared at Ivy's ceiling tiles of black and blue without a care for patient rules.
If she was going to start breaking down the walls to free these poor souls, she had to stop giving into Sharp. And further more: this was personal.
"No." Was all she asserted with a low subtle clack of her jaw locking.
Ivy rolled her shoulders with a sigh; she crossed her bare legs, trying to decide if she'd play with this strange intrusion. She pulled her legs to her chest and turned herself purposely so that she and Harleen's toes touched. "No?" Ivy asked the blonde in a hushed whisper. "No?" She threw back her head in laughter at this—soft, sensuous, and radiant with just a touch of bitterness to every row—and suddenly all across Ivy's vine wrapped body the lines twisted and bursted into pale pink flowers that lined along her generous breasts and down her bikini line like the latest bio-natural bathing suit line from Paris.
"You must be as dumb as they say you are, Harley Quinzel, because no one in their pitifully money-brained mind would enter my domain and dare accuse me of something that I knowingly didn't do."
Slowly Harleen's baby blue eyes peered out from just over her limply clothed kneecaps.
"Exactly, Pam—Ivy. I've come in here so that you'd tell me who actually did it."
Ivy's green eyes turned to gemstone in one fury eaten look. "Why would I ever do such a thing?" She drawled spitefully.
Harleen ducked her gaze for just an instant before she pushed herself upwards so that the two women were on proper eye level. Ivy's skin seemed to darken sourly at the rise and fall of Harleen's shaky confluence.
"My office is like own prison cell." Harleen admitted willingly, finally forcing out the thoughts that had been so recklessly gnawing at the back of her mind for endless minutes of every day. "My papers, files—my work is like my seeds." Ivy's full lips twitched, annoyed at the comparison, but Harleen pressed on. "I barely go home. I lost a lot of my friends. My family doesn't call."
She swallowed hard, her cheerful voice taking on a sad muted rasp as she continued on:
But I've found I don't care. I've…I've found I like it."
She paused, her blue eyes trembling to keep with Ivy's puncturing listening rebuke, the aggravated spurs of her red hair tumbling across her shoulders like the hackles of nature—a panther, a lioness.
"Go on." Ivy stated fleetly, her voice nonplus.
Harleen sucked in a breath. "When I first got my job here I thought I understood what was going on. That there were good doctors trying to help people in various stages of metal decay—" Harleen's thin fingers dug into Ivy's cot, nails ripping at the meager rough stitching. "But I was wrong."
Ivy flowers opened and closed themselves, buds nuzzling her fingertips and along her breasts disparagingly.
"So—yes, I am paranoid now. Because my work is my life— like how your life is protecting the earth—or your babies—and it's just. I went back through the files that were picked through—and I've found something."
Harleen reached into the middle of her warm baggy folds of her sweater she produced a note from her bra. "I found this after my office was ransacked."
'Break. Break. Break. Take. Take. Take. You. You. You. Soon. Soon. Soon.'
Ivy's glittering eyes scanned it curiously before she turned away. "And you expect me to know what that piece of trash is? It's poor human dripple all over a precious, once-living tree."
Harleen shook her head disheartened. "I suppose I just thought you might let me know something. Anything, really. I've gotten every hand written sample from every patient in my file but nothing matches. Nothing at all. And now I'm worried. It's one thing for a patient to lash out. That I'm fine with." Harleen narrowed her blue eyes at the note. "But this is from an outside source. Someone's trying to defile my work."
Ivy sighed, already bored.
"I'm sorry Harley. The only amount of gossip I've heard is that there's going to be a possible jail break."
Harleen whipped around to look at Ivy, gawking. "When?"
"Like I know," Ivy scoffed offhandedly. She then dragged her glare to Harleen. "And like I'd tell you."
Harleen settled into an awkward silence, knowing that Ivy purposefully let such a big notion slip just to get her reaction, and to get her nowhere. She focused again, breathing hard.
"Fine. That's fine. But…my work. I just…I've been thinking." She studied her hands. "I've spoken to so many patients now. There's so much more than metal illness here." She looked up at Ivy. "There's depression, loneliness, alienation, a lack of compassion, a lack of choice, or freedom."
Ivy studied the doctor curiously. Harleen licked her lips nervously. "And I want it to change. I want to help. Everyone here. I promise you, Ivy, that I'm going to start doing some radial things. I mean—I'm sitting next to you right now, aren't I?"
Harleen dropped back onto the mattress. "And now I'm lying down next to you. Perfectly exposed."
"We're touching—so what?" Ivy riled angrily. "Doctors have handled me before and do you know what they did? Electroshock therapy. I had 2rd degree burns on my temples and I smelt of burning, smoldering forest for two weeks."
Slowly, Harleen looked at Ivy, and her blue eyes ached with sorrow. "I won't ever hurt you, Ivy. Before…I was… naive. I'm so sorry. I tried to tell the guards to be gentle with the removal. I..I wasn't informed until…much later. But that's why I'm here now. I don't want to rely on this miserable place anymore. That's why I need you—I just knew it that from the moment we met that you were different as well. You're just so intelligent—you're cunning, and you're willing, and you're just this powerhouse of incredible power and purpose and I just thought…well…I'm just me…and…alone, that's not much. You know that." Harleen sank into the bed further. "I know that." She added softly.
Ivy stared at their touching toes in silence.
"I know it's strange," Harleen said slowly. "And unknown, and maybe even a little frightening—but I…I do. I want us to be friends. We could help each other. The more my work is tampered with, the less power I have here. To help you. All of you."
"Help?" Ivy's naked shoulders rose and fell with each peal of charming laughter that struck the walls like a stone tossed into a still lake. "False promises."
"Before you said you wanted to be friends—well I'm offering my friendship now. Help me help you." Harleen said slowly, her blue eyes glossy with desperation
"Friends?" Ivy spat the word into Harleen's face, lining the soft skin of Harleen's cheeks with spit that reminded her more of rainforest mist than any human flaw. "You must go through quite the entourage of patients Doctor, but surely you wouldn't forget our session—and how I told you I would help you with your little job here—" Her voice steeled and Harleen felt something smooth and thin crawl along her stockings, twist tightly around her ankle and drag the blonde under Ivy's frame—pinned straight down on to the mattress, suddenly clouded into the heavy red streams of Ivy's luscious hair washing over her upper body like a waterfall of freshly grown plant-life.
From around Ivy's waist a thicker strand of vine ripped out—covered in something sharp and heavy that coiled through the thick wool fibers of Harleen's sweater, prickling into the exposed skin along her sides and stomach—wrapping tightening and tingeing around her torso—inching up her throat, squeezing.
"I just want to set you free," Harleen whimpered out. "No one will let me try!"
Ivy simply hung over her prey like a beautiful burning spider ready to strike. Harley struggled feebly with her binds, watching in terror as the gentle looking pink flowers from before started to manifest themselves with sticky blue barbs that steadily grew heavy with what Harleen could only assumed to be Ivy's famous poison.
"You're so stupid, you mindless little fool," Ivy purred drily. "What did you really think you accomplish here?"
"You..won't…hurt me…" Harleen edged out defiantly. Ivy merely licked her lips and lowered herself across Harleen, listening to the doctor's heart beat going wild within her chest.
"Why?" Ivy hissed—her red hair burning, twisting in the moonlight that lit the room with shadows of maroon red and deep, stomach churning shades of mossy thick green—like Harleen was dying in a swamp of blood, pain, and earth.
"'cause I'm different—has a doctor ever done anything like this before?" Harleen asked quietly into Ivy's ear, her vocal chords grating to keep her words understandable. Instantly Harleen stopped trying to break free. She just lied there, under a known killer, and breathed.
"Different—you're native and full of yourself like everyone else here!" Ivy berated into a scream. "Don't talk to me about different when you had my plants ripped away from me during our first visit. Don't preach to me about understanding when you don't even try to know our pain! Don't—"
"Ivy—now I do understand!"Harleen gasped, and she painfully pulled her fingers to touch at Ivy's own hands—barely feeling the smooth green skin the enfolded the fury of mother nature herself. "Someone's…hurt…my babies…"
Ivy stopped. The burning, lashing knot around Harleen's windpipe was gone—and the blonde sputtered and wrenched as the dense world of Ivy's body seemed to untangle itself from her pinkly flustered flesh.
"Your babies." Ivy's cool gem clad eyes regarded Harleen's soft sky blue with an immeasurable amount of disdain. "You…care…about us?"
"Yes," Harleen's eyes lit up bright as the moon rising above them both. She quickly reached out and grasped Ivy's wrists, pulling the man-killer forward with a surprising amount of strength. Ivy remained wide-eyed and shocked, before she curled herself around the petite doctor's own frame, hugging someone other than her own beloved green children. "Yes—and that's all I want to do. I want to free you. I want to make you well! I want to help you—all of you!"
"All of us—but what about poor, despicable lil' loudmouthed Eddie?" Ivy's nostril flared and contempt.
Harleen's heart dropped in her chest, and Ivy relished in the sound of such shame.
Harleen broke the embrace, but kept Ivy's wrists tightly between her own hands. "I never wanted to hurt Edward Nigma. Ever. He just—just—"
"Scared you?" Ivy scowled pleasingly. "But I certainly scared you just now my dear, but yet I'm quite aware, as you know, of silly human ploys—why didn't I feel a shadow of doubt cross over you then?" Ivy's emerald green eyes widened devious realization, and she pouted her gorgeously luscious lips. "You've given up the Bat, then?"
Harleen stared hard into the moonlight that spilled across the floor, reminiscent of the spiraling, slinking shadows and harsh cruel tone of the Batman as it filled her with self-hate and remorse. "He tricked me." She said softly, her voice breaking over the words.
Ivy's eyes glowed as tears started to spill from the physicist's watery blue eyes. "Oh Harley—he lied to you too? Why that's just villainous."
"He—he—lied to you—as well?" Harleen squeaked between hiccuping-tears—unable to express how much she had been dying to tell someone how sorry she felt for hurting Edward. But who would understand before? Who would listen?
"He lied to all of us, Harley." Ivy murmured silky against her, her beautiful features darkening. "He tossed us all in here to suffer with the idea that we'll just disappear. He tells these doctors and the people of Gotham that we aren't worth anything. That we can't be—" her eyes widened as she plucked that hopelessly motivating word from Harleen's vocabulary—"helped. He's trying to crush your dream. Your…babies."
In spite of all of her composure, and nearly getting the poisonous kiss from Ivy, Harleen couldn't hold herself together any more while she heard the raw, bitter hatred in Ivy's tone. "'nd 'now you all hate me, don't 'ou?! Because now 'm—'m just like that damn Bats!"She cried nasally, bringing up her hands to hide her face.
"But I hate him!" Harley yelled at her hands as she continued. "I hate him like I hate every stinkin' guard, and every hypocrite doctor and every single person in my life that's every told me I wasn't good enough!"
"Harley—" Ivy gasped out, unsure how to handle such a reaction. Humans were so…wet.
"No! It's just not fair! I just wanted to help but Batman made me fear all of you! But that just ain't right because it's you all I just want to save." Harley paused for a moment, and her voice became soft and bleak. "It's Batman that should be scared of us."
Ivy smiled, both amused and, frankly, overwhelmed at Harleen's blatant ranging show of emotion for her patients. It was hard to imagine the slender happy creature actually hating anyone. But still. The green skinned goddess leaned forward and slowly wrapped her arms around Harleen, put off by scent of tears, but intrigued and allured at the girl's grief. She had never seen a human make such a show before without Ivy being the one to threaten them firstly—but here, this pitiful little blonde was just sobbing—completely and fully going into human hysterics over hurting a murderer?
She rocked Harleen in her arms. "Shhh—shhh Harley. It's okay. It's not your fault entirely. Edward's an idiot anyhow. Believe me, any day now one of us would have stabbed him—you just got the lucky shot. It's not like his going away has left a black spot in any of our books."
Harleen sniffled into Ivy's hair, trying not to mess up its beautiful orange shine with snot and runny smudges of weak mascara. "It's s'not?"
Ivy used a delicate slender finger to move Harleen's torn hair from her eyes, and the blonde giggle slightly. "Thanks Pammie. I know my hair is a disaster these days."
Ivy's hair ruffled up at this, her perfect nose wrinkling in disgust. "Let's just stick to Ivy, okay Harley?"
"But we're friends now," Harleen insisted happily. "Well, I mean, secret friends. And I can't obviously detour you from calling me Harley instead of Harleen—so why not Pammie?"
"It's just so…common. And I am no common flower, my dear."
Harleen gave a weak shrug. "If you say so." She then downcasted her eyes at the floor, sweeping the room with a dreaded sense of longing for another cell.
"You wish to apologize to that fool still, don't you." Ivy deadpanned stiffly.
Harleen turned and looked at her, a smile tinged with cheerful regret saccharine on her face. "Don't tell me you can read me like a book already?"
Ivy rolled her green eyes and sneered at the question. "Please, Harley, I could read you before you set foot into this horrid excuse for a madhouse."
Harleen continued to smile sheepishly. "But not tonight?"
Ivy looked at the young doctor strangely as if she couldn't produce a harrowing enough answer. "You can be unpredictable."
"Whereas you're great at catching folks patterns." Harleen's eyes grew bright and wide again. "So, you'll tell me—maybe? Who's breaking into my office?" And then maybe who's breaking out of Arkham? Harleen filed away into her thoughts.
Ivy drew back, leaning fully against the plain wall. She teased a locked of flame around her fingertips as she thought, eyes tight and foreboding. "To be honest I've only just begun to take interest into your life now Harley, so, as of right now, I'm not sure." Her emerald eyes flashed to Harleen's in a greedy instant. "However, there is someone you could ask."
Harleen caught on fast, her heart sinking. "But…I know Eddie knows everything—even from hospital confinement—but…there's no way I could get to see him. Sharp—he's stamp a big red 'NO' to my noggin' before I even got the words out of my mouth."
"Well," Ivy glanced Harleen up and down with a regally masterfully look—as if she was undressing and seeking out the areas that needed the most work. "It's honestly disgustingly easy to outwit the guards in the hospital wings. If you want to get to Edward, all you have to do is gussy up."
Harleen quirked, her pale lips still trembling ever so slightly. "For confidence?"
"Oh Honey," Ivy breathed, crooning over the tiny blonde with green skinned fingers that smoothed her messy hair and carefully traced a sharp fingernail along a skewered line of eyeliner. "Sexual appeal is a female's only defense in this world. It's how plants attract pollinating insects. It's how many female insects end up killing their male mates. And it's how you can get anything you want done this way. It's sick. It's sad." And, like the beginning of their conversation, Ivy's smile bloomed into a delightfully sinister smile.
"It's how you'll survive."
EAN: Last call...anyone for ONLY character study interviews? Or ONLY story line? Or both? oh god. Or both. (also, ya'all, this is chapter 20, woooooooooo!)