Ivy felt the rays of the late morning sun on her face, and they both warmed and energized her. She lay there on her back and allowed herself to feel content for a moment, noticing the additional warmth where Harley's leg was sprawled across hers as she lay face down on the bed, her arm flung over Ivy's chest.

Then Ivy realized that "content" wasn't even a strong enough word.

This was paradise.

She fluidly slipped out from under Harley and kneeled over her back, then leaned down and brushed blonde hair aside to kiss the back of Harley's neck while her hands roamed down her sides. Harley stirred and moaned a little, still mostly asleep.

When Ivy's hands slipped underneath her to massage her breasts, though, she woke up in a hurry. "Mmm – Red – nice way to wake up."

Suddenly, Harley raised her head, panicked. "Where's the clock? What time is it?"

Ivy returned her lips to Harley's neck and murmured, "Maybe 10:30? But don't worry about that…why don't you stay with me today and we'll make a day of it. I still haven't figured out where you keep that pop gun of yours…"

Before she had even finished, Harley had somehow wriggled out from under her and jumped to her feet. "Ivy! I'm going to be like three hours late for work! Where are my Holly clothes…" She rummaged under the bed and through drawers, throwing clothes out at random, until she managed to put an outfit together. She threw on her clothes and slipped on a pair of shoes, bouncing around the room and muttering "Glasses…glasses."

Then she grabbed the glasses from her bedside table, kissed Ivy on the cheek, and was out the door with a "Bye, Ives!"

All of that had happened so quickly that Ivy couldn't even process it, respond to it, argue against it, convince Harley to stay in bed with her all day, anything. She flopped back on the bed and sighed as her plans for the day went out the window.

Later that afternoon, Ivy was tending to her Dionaea muscipula graft when Harley burst back in, excitedly yammering about jetpacks and Jimmy Olsen or something, and changing into her Harley suit.

Ivy was still feeling frosty. If she were being honest with herself, it was because what happened last night didn't seem to matter to Harley. Nothing seemed to matter to her. She just bounced through life, doing whatever felt right at the time, and damn the consequences. It was the opposite of how Ivy led her carefully ordered life, and she was feeling a little resentful at the moment.

As usual, she used her plants as an excuse not to leave the penthouse. She expected more of an objection, but Harley just said, "Oh, well—your loss! See you later, pollinator!" and exited as quickly as she'd come in, her Harley suit now hidden under her work clothes.

Ivy angrily poked around in the dirt for a while, then said "Oh, screw it" and headed out the door to meet her girl at S.T.A.R. Labs.

She found Harley at the door to the lab, snuck up on her and clapped a hand over her mouth from behind, whispering in her ear, "You're an easy one to sneak up on, girl. You should watch your back."

Harley was delighted to see her, pulling Ivy into a big hug. Ivy said, "Well…the graft was stronger than I thought." (It wasn't lost on her that she was talking about more than just the Dionaea muscipula.)

The two girls were back in action, and Ivy easily trapped the lab worker and Jimmy Olsen with vines. Thorn tried to crash the party, but Harley was able to subdue her with an electrified yo-yo. She asked Ivy to get Thorn back to the apartment, but for some reason Harley wanted to stay there longer with Jimmy.

She had no trouble getting Thorn back to the penthouse and entangling her in vines, but she started to get worried (and a little disappointed) when Harley didn't show for hours. She tended to her plants, contemplated beating on Thorn to relieve some tension, and finally Harley flew up to the balcony on a jetpack.

Ivy could have been impressed by the jetpack. She could have told Harley how much she was craving time with her.

Instead, she put her hands on her jean-short-clad hips and said, "Well, someone's in a good mood. I got back hours ago. What took you?"

But of course Harley wasn't offended, and she excitedly asked after their "guest." Their shared enthusiasm for hurting Thorn melted Ivy somewhat, and after the prisoner raged a bit, Ivy said, "I'd say she has issues. What do you think, Dr. Quinzel?"

Harley, mock-pensive, said, "Well, as a trained and formerly licensed psychiatrist, I know there's just one form of therapy for a case like this…" and punched Thorn full in the face. (Just when Ivy thought she couldn't love that girl any more….)

Not long afterward, their apartment was crowded with uninvited visitors: first Bizarro, and then Jimmy Olsen. Unfortunately, this meant Ivy had to see Harley smooch Jimmy Olsen's freckled face while Ivy and Bizarro hid in the foliage. Revolting.

(But on the plus side, Harley changed into a translucent negligee while she chased Jimmy around the apartment, so it wasn't all bad.)

Ivy tried to hide her disappointment when Harley introduced her as her "roommate" – it was absurd how the offhanded comment hurt her. She was fully aware that she was pouting, and took it out on Jimmy Olsen for a minute before stalking off into the plants…

…where she came upon an even better target for her latent rage: Thorn. Ivy was just setting in for a pleasurable evening of torture when that idiot Bizarro interrupted to tell her (in his infuriating double-speak) that Harley was headed to Lexcorp for god-knows-what absurd reason.

Ivy threw up her hands and stormed out, unleashing some of her pent-up anger: "This is crazy! No – this double-talk is typical of Harley! I'll have to see what she wants myself!"

And then she made what would be a fatal error: she told Bizarro not to set Thorn free.

Instead of showing up at Lexcorp, though, Ivy stalked around the city, stewing about Harley. "Always off on a fool's errand! Nothing matters to her, not even last night! Everything was perfect this morning, and then she got involved with this stupid jetpack and that idiot Jimmy Olsen and that brute Bizarro!"

Eventually, she just went back to the penthouse, sank down to her knees on the floor, and grew herself a new bodysuit – even skimpier than her usual ones. She tried to talk herself up: "Ivy, you're a brilliant PhD and a master criminal. Stop obsessing about your bestie. This is ridiculous."

But as she finished growing the outfit, she started again, saying, "Ah! Nothing like growing a new outfit to make a girl feel…no better than before." She sighed. "Why does Harley always run off on some fool's errand when she could stay here with me – in paradise?"

This situation was unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and unacceptable. "Anyone else…anyone else would do exactly what I wanted. I'd have them wrapped around my finger."

Then she pictured Harley's smiling face, thought about how she felt when they were together, and admitted, "But Harley isn't like anyone else…"

Ivy needed an outlet. Then she remembered Thorn. "Well, no use torturing myself – not when I have another person handy!"

As she stalked through the foliage to let her rage out on Thorn, she saw the empty chair, heard Thorn's voice mocking her – and instead of thinking back to her parting shot to Bizarro, her mind defaulted to blaming Harley. "This…this is Harley's fault! Harley's fault for bringing Thorn here! Harley's fault for leaving just when things started going to—"

Thorn interrupted then, taunting her. She hit Ivy on the head, and everything went black.

And then everything got worse.

So much worse.

"…Ivy?" A shadow leaned over her, blocking the light. At first, blinking unconsciousness away, Ivy thought it was Bizarro. As she slowly sat up, she thought she must be hallucinating – because surely Superman wasn't squatting there among her plants, looking at her in concern.

Ivy shook her head slightly to clear her mind and instantly regretted it. Thorn had really walloped her. But when she looked back, Superman was still there.

Ivy sighed. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it. And if you're here to beat it out of me, you're too late." She pulled herself up so she was sitting – she didn't quite have it in her to stand, but she didn't want to talk to Superman while lying on the ground.

Superman regarded her gravely. "Ivy – Ms. Isley –"

"It's Doctor!" snapped Ivy. She didn't have to tolerate this home invasion, even from the Kryptonian.

Superman knelt in front of her, so close she could have touched him. "It's about your friend."

"Harley? What's the fool gotten herself into this time? Oh, wait – is this about the jetpack? I knew that wouldn't end well."

The world's greatest superhero seemed to be struggling for words. Finally, he said (more gently than Ivy would have imagined he could): "Dr. Isley, your friend Harley Quinn is dead."

Next chapter: She deals with the news in the most Ivy way possible, in: The Five Stages of Ivy!