Bestest Halloween Treat
Summary: Harley's gift wasn't just for her. Ivy participates in the Halloween spirit.
Disclaimed.
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Ivy hated Halloween. She hated it almost as much as Christmas. (Which was saying something.)
Every year on October 31st, hundreds of thousands of innocent pumpkins would be brutally chopped off their vines, have their insides scooped out, and be carved into silly expressions for the amusement of children.
All right, some of them were intended to scare children instead, which couldn't make it all bad, but nothing could condone the murder of an innocent plant.
But this year was different. This was the first Day of the Dead that Ivy had ever spent in the company of another human being (Joker had kicked Harley out -- again. When would she see that he was no good for her?), so, in the light of Halloween spirit, Ivy had decided to buy her a gift.
Which wasn't to say that Harley would ever receive it, if she didn't stop whining right this second.
The box, long and thin and made of various lengths of scrap lumber, had just been shipped that morning, and Ivy had brought it in while its recipient was still in bed. The cheap, splintered pine was undecorated, except for a colorful label proclaiming the brand name of the company. (Honestly, "Real Villains"? Was she the only one around with style?) Ivy hadn't had the time, materials, or inclination to hide or wrap the crate (aside from a simple red ribbon), so it stood in plain sight by the door. She just hoped that Harley's tantrum would keep her from noticing it until Ivy wanted her to.
Back to Harley.
"Oh, Mistah J!" she wailed, sprawled out face-down on the purple floral printed couch. Her thin form was wracked with sobs as she lamented her absent obsession. (Seriously! Her Harl could do so much better than that so-called "Puddin'.")
"Oh, stop bawling." Ivy approached the sofa. Harley hiccupped and sniffled. "Or I won't give you" she had hoped to save this for later, "your Halloween present."
That was the magic word. The blonde girl bolted upright, her tears miraculously drying and an ecstatic smile appearing on her face. "Present?" she squeaked.
Ivy pointed. "By the door."
"Whoohoohoo!" Harley squealed and ran for the door, black and red tassels flying. She bent over and squinted at the sticker. "Real Villains? You didn't! Oh, Red!"
After some tugging, grunting, and a lot of effort (What did she think the crowbar on the floor was there for, decoration?), Harley managed to get the top off of the crate. She tossed the lid aside carelessly -- more for Ivy to clean up later, much to her chagrin -- and reached into the box.
"My Snookums!" Harley squeezed the life-sized rubber Joker figure. It squeaked in protest every time she tightened her grip, and Ivy imagined that she was strangling it. But her hopes were quashed with Harley's next words.
"This is the bestest Halloween treat I coulda got." More hugging. "But I didn't get nothing for you, Red."
"Not necessary."
Seeing Joker in a coffin was the bestest Halloween treat she could have wished for.
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A/N: Takes place during the Gotham Girls Halloween episode.