Harley rounded the corner at a pace that some might liken to a jog. She called it a powerwalk. The effect was infinitely more satisfying when the clacking of her smart heels in the cavernous hallway echoed far ahead of her, alerting the red head of her approach. She was coming in hot.

"What the hell, Isley?" The young doctor's shrill words echoed in the empty cafeteria.

Poison Ivy's cafeteria privileges had been restored, but she was still not allowed in close proximity to the male inmates, which disallowed her conversing with any of Arkham Asylum's current occupants. So Ivy was granted an empty cafeteria for 20 minutes every day and Harley intended to crash it.

The blonde stopped 5 feet before Ivy's table. Ivy herself had yet to turn around. "Excuse me?" Harley said, impatiently tapping her foot. "Your doctor is talking to you."

"Oh?" The plant queen said, feigning confusion. Harley could only see the back of her head, but she could tell that the villainess was smiling. "I thought you were The Joker's doctor now."

Harley didn't want to talk to Poison Ivy, she wanted to talk to Pam, but Harley had come in upset, automatically forfeiting the position of dominance. She knew that.

"Ivy…" Harley gave an exacerbated sigh, crossing her arms haughtily. "Are we being petty?"

Ivy laughed at that- powerful and melodic. The sounds tickled Harley's eardrums. She turned around, whipping her long hair like she was in a music video.

Harley wanted to roll her eyes, but her body was forcing a different reaction. She bit her lip. 'Ugh, these fucking pheromones.'

"We? Dr. Quinzel?" Ivy asked, a malicious smile playing on her lips. "I had no idea our relationship was so serious."

"No…" Harley said, her face flushed. "I was referring to you like I would a child because your behavior is childlike."

Ivy chuckled once more. "That's a bizarre statement, Dr. Quinzel, seeing as how- firstly- I don't know what behavior you're referencing, and secondly- I'm old enough to be your mother."

"Ah." Harley put her hands out like she could stop the words from seeping in. "Don't…don't say that. It's. Bleh."

Ivy cocked her head to the side with an unnaturally innocent expression. "Have you never had an older woman…"

"Knock it off." Harley snapped, sitting down on the bench across from her.

"…as a patient?" Ivy finished the question that Harley had so rudely interrupted.

"Oh you know exactly what you were doing" Harley sneered.

Ivy maintained her innocent expression and so Harley laughed, much to Ivy's surprise. But Harley didn't just laugh, she cackled, high and desperate, like she hadn't laughed in quite some time. The green woman watched with great interest as tears began to stream down the blonde's face. Her chest heaved as swells of oxygen were pushed out of her lungs. Finally, the wheezing subsided and Harley gasped for air, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Are you…" Pamela searched the woman's face for a clue as to what the hell just happened. "Are you OK?"

"Ha! No." Harley answered honestly, resting her back against the table behind her. "I thought we had a thing going, you know? Quit pro quo? You did notice I didn't tell Leland about the pheromones, right?"

Ivy arched an eyebrow. "I did…"

"Not many people know about that Olympics thing, Ivy. Coach made sure of it. But I told you." Harley's words conveyed more disappointment than anything. "I told you because I thought we had a repport. And then you go and tell Batman? What the heck was that for?"

Ivy was unsure of how to respond…so she didn't.

Harley continued on, evidently she had not intended for Ivy to actually answer her questions. "I had to take a step back for a minute, Red. And really, that was your fault! Whatever pollen you doused me with…I couldn't do my job. I guess that's how it works…" Harley was rambling now. "It's just a big fat distraction. Your face and your body and your skin and your hair and your voice and your laugh…You never want to actually get better, that's your problem. You get in your own way. You and all of that." Harley indicated Ivy's whole "everything" by gesturing in the general direction of her…everything. "And you didn't even give me a chance! You dosed me up before ya even knew if I was any good! The real, honest, simple truth? Ya hurt my feelin's, Red. And ya did it cuz ya didn't want any real competition."

Ivy was staring, dumbfounded, at the doctor. She opened her mouth to speak but then closed. She was more successful on her second try, but still rather ineloquent in Ivy's opinion of herself. "Why did you call me that?"

Harley blinked. "What?"

"Red." Ivy's tone was cautious.

An obvious panic overtook Harley's expression. "Fuck. OK, just give me one second." She got up and stripped off her lab coat.

Ivy furrowed her brow as the white garment was tossed onto her lap and Dr. Quinzel started up into a handstand. Her body swayed slightly, but ultimately stayed perpendicular to the ground.

"Doctor…" Ivy started. "Umm…Harley…"

"It's Harleen. It has to be Harleen." The upside down blonde's plea was rather forceful.

"OK, Harleen." Pamela's tone was purposefully calm. "I know we're not actually friends, or I betrayed you or whatever…You know the intricacies of human relationships sometimes go over my head…But…What's happening right now? Exactly?"

The gymnast grunted. "I'm stressed out."

Pamela nodded like that was even close to an adequate explanation. "So then why are you…"

"Doing a fucking handstand?" Harleen's face had turned red from the blood rushing there. "Because I'm attempting to fight off a psychotic break, you twat. You and your mental chess game and your fucking pheromones are making the 16-year-old me, which evidently still lives inside my mind as a fully intact consciousness, want to run away back to crazy town! I'm doing a handstand so she will shut the fuck up!"

"I am not a twat." Ivy spat.

"OH MY GOD!" Harley righted herself, returning her feet to the floor. "You just heard that whole insane spiel, yet you're more concerned with 'twat?' Your psychiatrist is losing her mind, Pam!"

Ivy narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I was going to get to the other stuff."

"OK, well?" Harley tapped her foot impatiently.

Ivy ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. "Well…I would suggest not becoming a criminal. Like I said before, the whole split personality thing is Two-Face's schtick. I don't think he'd like you edging in on his territory."

"God, you're just…" Harley laughed. "You really are the worst, aren't you?"

Ivy sighed, looking bored. "Get on some meds, Harleen, and take a few days off. We all have a darkness inside of us, and yours happens to come in the form of a cute, teenaged gymnast." She got up from the table. "There are worse things in this world." She passed the blonde on the way out of the cafeteria. "Oh, and tell Harley I kind of like the pet name." The plant queen shot a smirk over her shoulder at the girl. "It's cute."