A/N: Finally, Mister J makes an appearance! Well-not quite, but close enough. Many, many thanks to Dracheheim for providing the Joker's dialogue; he's MUCH better at it than I am.

Poisoned Ivy

Ivy hated the smell of hospitals. The disinfectant and lack of any sort of organic smell made her feel almost physically ill. The fact that she was exhausted wasn't helping either. She had left Hush trussed up in five different kinds of exotic vine, with the promise that the police would arrive imminently. Not that Ivy liked relying on the police, but with her best friend bleeding and unconscious, she didn't feel that she had much choice.

Now she was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. She hadn't slept all night, preferring to stare out at the growing thunderstorm and wonder when Catwoman would get back. Sometime toward one in the morning, an exhausted-looking Selina had crawled back through the window, soaked and trembling. Ivy rolled her eyes, but moved across the seats to allow her to lie down. She had been asleep ever since, and Ivy had watched her, with a strange feeling inside her chest.

Her thoughts were all tangled up. She hadn't really wanted to associate with the Cat—even associating with Harley was not something she had been one-hundred-percent on board with. She didn't like people. She found them complicated, domineering, selfish creatures. Yet, somehow, Harley had crawled into her skin and become—close to her. She hesitated to use the word friend, because she didn't really understand all the implications. But Harley's childish pleasure at the simplest things was—curiously refreshing.

And from Harls to Catwoman. Selina Kyle was a whole different kettle of fish, though doubtless the woman would prefer to be eating them than to be compared to them. She wrinkled her nose and shifted slightly away from the limp figure draped across the waiting room seats. Catwoman's hair was matted to her head, and her face was pressed hard into the seat. A rivulet of drool ran from her mouth, unless it was just more rainwater. Ivy wasn't averse to getting wet in the normal run of things, but Selina like this was—animal. Foreign. Little whimpering noises kept escaping from her lips, and occasionally she moved her arms and legs as Ivy had occasionally seen a sleeping stray do.

And yet. She looked at Selina, and she couldn't feel the revulsion that only a few months ago she would have felt for anything fully grown and human. She felt a strange rush of relief that Selina was here with her. That Selina was here for Harley, too. Ivy massaged her forehead. She was clearly getting soft in her old age.

Dawn began to break outside the window, the sun peeking out from behind the gray clouds which were slowly disappearing. Ivy lifted her face to it, reveling in the golden glow. Despite her lack of sleep, she felt revived and at ease beneath the sun.

A door opened and a nurse came out. In her stuporous, half-asleep state, she didn't even register that the woman was moving toward her until she was already standing in front of her.

"You came in with Miss Quinzel?" the woman asked.

"Doctor," Ivy corrected absentmindedly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Doctor Quinzel."

"Oh. Well—"

Ivy's mind suddenly grasped what the nurse was doing here. "Is she all right?" she asked.

"She's doing better. She's not in any danger anymore, though she is very weak. She lost a lot of blood."

"Oh." Ivy let herself collapse back against the seat. "Oh," she said again, and suddenly she gasped a deep breath of the disgusting hospital air, and her stomach was heaving. She dropped to her knees, putting her hands over her mouth, trying not to let herself throw up.

"There, there," the nurse said, patting her on the shoulder. Ivy wanted to shrink away from the human contact, but she couldn't do anything but heave her shoulders and realize with every cell in her body that Harley was all right.

"There is one thing," the nurse said awkwardly.

Ivy looked up at her. She had never been good at reading people, but the expression on the woman's face was grave. "What is it?"

"Well—the muscles and tendons at the back of her knees were cut. The surgeon did his best, but—there's a chance she'll never regain full functionality in her legs."

Blinding rage pulsed through Ivy. She clenched her fists so hard that she felt her nails break through the flesh of her palm. There's a chance she'll never regain full functionality in her legs.

Hush, Ivy whispered to herself. I will break you.

"Can I see her?" she asked.

The nurse nodded. "Not for long, though—what about your friend?"

Ivy bit her lip, looking at Selina. The woman was white to her lips, which were still bluish with cold, and her eyes were sunken in hollows of exhaustion. She needed to sleep. "She can see Harley when she wakes up," she said.

The nurse nodded. "Come with me," she said.

Harley looked very small and pale in the hospital bed, with her blond hair out of its usual pigtails and her hands laid gently on the coverlet, the right one covered in bandages. White bandages dwarfed her head as well, covering the whole of the right half of her face. Her left arm was in a sling. She blinked her eyes as Ivy approached.

"Hiya, Red," she said weakly, grimacing in pain as she tugged on the corner of her mouth.

"Don't talk, Harls," Ivy said soothingly. "You're okay now."

"Why didn't anybody tell me Brucie was Hush? Or Batman?"

Ivy shook her head and patted Harley's hand. "Nobody knew he was Batman." As she spoke, Ivy suddenly realized the overwhelming implications. Everyone in Gotham knew—or would know, in a few hours—that Bruce Wayne was Batman, and everyone in Gotham who didn't know about Hush would believe he had tortured an innocent (well, presumed innocent) girl in his bed. This surely promised to be interesting, at the very least.

Harley moaned a little. "My legs hurt," she complained.

"Shhh," Ivy said soothingly. "Just be quiet and go to sleep. Everything's going to be fine." Harley's eyelashes fluttered and closed, and Ivy wondered again at herself for letting this human sneak inside her heart. But Harls was so vulnerable and child-like most of the time, and Ivy quite liked children.

The nurse came back in the door. "Is time up?" Ivy asked.

"Er…actually, there's a phone call, ma'am, and we thought perhaps you might take it—he's demanding to speak to the patient, and we've tried to explain that she isn't capable of speaking on the telephone right now, but—"

"Who's calling?"

The nurse looked miserable. "Well…he's threatening to set the hospital on fire unless we put her on the line."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Oh lord. I'll take it."

"Thank you!" the other woman gasped in relief. "This way please."

When Ivy took the phone, all she heard on the other end was laughter, low, grating, unending laughter that made her hackles rise.

"Clown!" she snapped. "Stop that!"

"Excuse me, operator?" came the amused voice from the other end of the line. "Could you please connect me to Harleen Quinzel?"

"She can't talk now, Clown!" Ivy shouted irritably. This was all his fault, she raged irrationally. If Harley hadn't been trying to get over her eminently unsuitable boyfriend, she wouldn't be in this situation.

"She can't…? Don't be silly, Poison Oak. Harls can always talk—whether or not I want her to."

"I really don't know how to tell you this, Joker. Oh, wait, yes I do—eff off," Ivy snarled.

The Joker's voice dropped into a syrupy tone of voice. "You know, I would—I really would—but I'm bored. I want to talk to Harls. Now, put her on the phone or this cactus gets it."

Ivy winced. "If you would listen for a minute," she growled. "You would realize that we aren't putting Harley on the line because she is too injured to talk on the phone. She just got out of surgery."

"Sur…ger…y? Oh, this is gonna be good. If she can't talk, you will. Now…WHAT HAPPENED?" snapped the Joker.

Ivy sighed sharply. "Well, her face and hand have been carved up, her left arm is broken in three places, and she may never walk again because that monster cut through the tendons in the back of her legs."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. After a long moment, the Joker spoke again. "…who? TELL ME WHO, YOU CHLOROPHYLL-COLORED C—"

"Hush, masquerading as Bruce Wayne. He captured her and wanted to know where Catwoman was. She wouldn't tell him."

"All right, let me put this on my shopping list…eggs, Hush, hyena food, and Catwoman. Got it." He paused for a moment as if he were scribbling something down.

"Don't you take this out on Selina!" raged Ivy. "She has nothing to do with it!"

"Nothing?" the Joker whispered, sudden, disarming sweetness evident in his voice. "Why, of course she had nothing to do with it. And you, of course, also had nothing to do with it. Of course Harls went out on her own! I am sure neither you nor the feline had been telling her to 'empower' herself. I am sure she wasn't doing this to please you at all." He laughed. "Now that I've got all that out of the way, listen. My girl was raped, then cut up. And nobody roughs her up but me, got it? Maybe I'll ask her, first. But I've got a pretty good idea that she was trying to fit in with the girls."

It hadn't even occurred to Ivy that Harley might have been raped, and it was as if a stone had dropped into the pit of her stomach. She choked slightly before answering, "I don't know—if she was raped. She hasn't been conscious enough to tell us."

"Oh, you hadn't even realized, huh?" the Joker purred. "Of course it could have been rape. And that's pretty upsetting to me, plant-lady. I'm upset. Do you remember what happened the LAST time I was upset? Now. Where. Is. Hush? I have a present for him."

"I left him at Wayne Manor. I suppose the police have him by now."

"Ahhh, so I'll be paying a visit to dear old Commissioner Gordon. He and I go way back—he should be happy to see me. Oh, one more thing, though…if Hush is Bruce Wayne…and Bruce Wayne is Batman…then we have a problem. Because Hush is not Batman. Not by a long shot. Where did he stash the real Wayne brat?"

"How should I know?" Ivy yelled. She wasn't sure she had ever heard the Joker this upset before. Well, no wonder. Something he considered to be his intimate property had been played with and broken by someone who should never have been allowed to get near her.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "Hrrm. Tell kiddo not to worry. Her Mister J is on the case. Time to silence Hush," said the Joker; there was a click and then a dial-tone. Ivy stared angrily at the phone before slamming it down. She went back into the waiting room, where Selina was still sleeping the sleep of the dead.

About an hour later, someone came by bearing a large bouquet of flowers, who disappeared into Harley's room. There was a squeal of delight from inside, and Selina finally blinked her eyes open with a start. Ivy started massaging her forehead. She had a pretty good idea who the flowers were from, particularly given the mix of white, red, and green roses.

Selina sat up slowly, stretching and blinking as if she didn't know where she was. She suddenly stopped, midway through a yawn, and turned to Ivy with a gasp. "How is she?" she asked.

"She's out of danger," Ivy said dully, and watched as Selina's eyes closed, and a gasp of relief rattled through her entire frame. She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as if she were starting to cry. Ivy had no idea what to do, but fortunately, Selina took another long, deep breath and then managed to raise her head.

"Oh thank god," she said forcefully. She began to laugh, and suddenly she leaned forward and put her arms around Ivy, still shaking. Ivy stiffened, and then found that somehow she was relieved to have someone touching her. It was almost comfortable, but she thought of Harley's legs and forced herself to break away.

"She might not be able to walk," she said stiffly, turning away from Selina. "He hamstrung her."

"What," Selina said blankly.

"The tendons and muscles in the back of her lugs. He cut them. Snip-snip."

"Oh god. I—is she awake?"

"Sounds like it," Ivy replied softly. "She just received some flowers."

Selina shut her eyes. "So the Joker…"

"He called earlier. He wasn't happy."

"Never mind him now. I need to see Harley. I just—I really need to know if she—if he forced her—"

Ivy swallowed. "Yes. That's—let's see if we can see her."

The nurse let them in. Harley was lying in bed with her eyes properly open this time, fingering a green rose with the bandaged fingers of her right hand.

"Hiya, Kitty-cat! Hi, Red," she greeted them.

"Hey, Harls." Selina sat down on the bed next to her. "How are you?"

Harley wrinkled her nose. "I feel okay. I think they're pumping me full of happy-juice. It's kinda weird. But look!" She waved the rose wildly at Selina. "Look what Mistah J sent me! And there was a card, too!"

Ivy frowned. "Harley, you can't just go running back to him—"

Harley looked away. "I tried to listen to ya, Red, I really did. I tried to go out on a proper date with somebody who wasn't Mistah J—"

"Harls," Selina said quickly. "He—he didn't force you, did he?"

Harley looked up at her, and for a moment cold crept through Ivy's stomach at the crushed, battered look in her blue eyes, but then she shook her head in a quick, sudden gesture, before her eyes filled with tears and she started to cry.

"I wish he'd raped me," she sobbed.

"Oh—no, Harley—" Selina leaned forward, touching her on the head, and Ivy found herself kneeling by the bed.

"I do! I do! It's all my fault for abandoning Mistah J. I deserve this!"

"You don't deserve a thing," Selina said forcefully. "Harley, you were just trying to have some fun, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that!"

Ivy pursed her lips and spoke as if she were spitting out a nasty taste. "He called, Harley."

Her blue eyes widened. "He—he did?"

Ivy sighed. "Right after you were out of surgery, when you were still unconscious. He was mad as hell. He told you not to worry."

"Oh!" Harley gasped, burying her face in the green rose. "See, Red? He really does care!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Ivy said caustically. "Harley…"

She was interrupted by the re-entrance of the nurse. "Excuse me," she said. "Can I speak with one of you?"

Ivy looked at Selina's face, then patted her shoulder. "I'll go," she said. "You stay with Harls."

She followed the nurse out into the hallway. "What is it?" she asked.

"I've got the police commissioner on the phone this time, asking to speak to one of you girls," said the nurse.

"Oh god," Ivy mumbled, rubbing her hands through her hair. "Fine, I'll be right there."

She picked up the phone and took real pleasure in saying, "Poison Ivy speaking."

"Hello, Miss Isley," said Jim Gordon's voice.

"Listen, Commish, if this is about the Clown, I had nothing to do with—"

"It's not," Gordon said sharply. "It's about Hush. He's escaped."