Ivy knew she should be regarding Harley cautiously, approaching their conversations deliberately. If this truly was a chess match, and Ivy intended to win, she should not let her guard down, in fact, she should raise it, steeling her resolve. But there was something in Ivy that just didn't…want to. All her life, Pamela Isley had been ambitious, motivated, focused on a goal- to be the best, to be the smartest, to be a winner. Poison Ivy even more so. Despite her position as a pinnacle of Gotham's criminal community, Ivy always set aside time and brain power to further scientific discovery. As the first specimen of her kind, Ivy figured she owed it to future generations of…plants, of plants, to learn what she could about her physiology and develop weapons to aide in both her goal and the ultimate goal of plant domination. And sure, she could be a bit selfish with her cause, she patented original toxins and botanical fragrances and took credit for other breakthroughs she made for her field…but she earned that. With her hard work and tunnel vision and what had happened to her…she earned that. Dr. Woodrue told her she would be "THE definitive breakthrough for botanical toxicology," and so she would be, but not for him, for her…for the plants.

Clarence was leading Ivy into the cafeteria. This would be another one of she and Harleen's lunchtime meetings. If Ivy were being honest, she preferred these to her actual therapy sessions, although, from a tactical standpoint, she knew she should be taking the opposite stance. Ivy was aware that Dr. Quinzel had taken a more laid back approach so that Ivy would open up to her and see her as less of a threat, more of a friend than an adversary. That's what these impromptu lunches were about, taking Ivy out of her more natural habitat, and the truth was Ivy was a better home team than she was a visitor, so it was actually a fairly decent strategy…but there were times that Ivy liked having an excuse not to win. She would still win, of course, but playing from behind sometimes made the victory that much sweeter.

Dr. Quinzel was already waiting at Ivy's usual table, which was just as well, this way Ivy could make a show of walking in. Clarence unshackled her at the door and she approached Harleen slowly, a sly smile spreading across her lips. Harley's lips were colored a brighter shade of red today, and her eyes appeared more lively as a compliment to her baby blue sweater vest. Ivy chuckled looking at her ensemble. A blue sweater vest over a white blouse with a matching white pencil skirt.

"What?" Harleen asked, looking a bit nervous.

The amount of white you have in your wardrobe…it's incredible." Ivy sat down on the bench across from her.

"I do a lot of laundry." Harley assured her with a wink.

Ivy felt a sudden urge erupting inside her, she was powerless against it. She tried to clamp her jaw shut to stop the air from escaping, but she couldn't. Ivy broke out in a throaty, melodic laugh that echoed through the room. A real laugh at something she really found funny. "What a ridiculous thing to wink at."

"No!" Harleen protested, a blush spreading in her cheeks. "I was doing your thing."

Ivy placed her hand on her stomach to feel the vibrations of her laughter. This laugh wasn't snide, although it was at another person's expense. This laugh felt good. She shook her head at Harley. "I make sexual innuendo and then wink."

"OK," Harleen was giggling now too. "Fine." She leaned back on the bench and deepened her voice, dramatically brushing imaginary hair off of her shoulder. "I do A LOT of laundry…" she slurred in her horrendous Poison Ivy impression, giving a terribly overzealous wink and pairing it with a lip bite.

The real Ivy buried her face in her hands. "You're a horrible person."

"No…" Harleen was back to her normal self. "You are. We've established that."

"Oh, what?" Ivy tossed her head back. "You've never done anything awful?"

Harleen shrugged. "Sure I have."

"I mean besides sleeping with your coach…and you teachers…actually…." Ivy cocked her head. "I think you might have a problem."

"Don't do that." Harleen was suddenly serious.

Ivy sighed internally at how quickly this part of the conversation had come. She was upset with herself, but she knew she had to press. Today was the day she finished her. "Is it Harley or Harleen that has the problem, you think? I'd put my money on Harley."/p

Harleen's features hardened. "It's not funny, Pamela."

Ivy smirked and her voice took on a whispier quality. "Sure it is, Dr. Quinzel. You're trying to tell me not to be so crazy while you're walking around with voices in your head. Surely you can recognize the irony."

"Surely, I can." Harleen spat.

"OK." Ivy leaned closer. "So here's the problem as I see it. You can't decide what we are. Am I your friend, your opponent, your patient or your doctor?"

"You're all four." Dr. Quinzel crossed her arms. "You have to be. That's what your psychology requires, and believe me, it's exhausting."

Ivy regarded her doctor curiously. "If you could choose, what would I be?"

"I would be the doctor and you the patient, of course."

Ivy shook her head. "I don't think so, Daffodil. I think you need a friend as much as you think I do."

Harleen stood up, likely realizing that Ivy was in attack mode and that she would not win this one.

"No, no. Don't go." Ivy grabbed the woman's jacket, pulling her back down. "You grew up poor in a rich girl's world, taking part in an expensive and demanding sport in which you competed against girls from your own team. So, no comradery there. In fact, the lack of community was so overwhelming that you felt the need to give up your body for success." Ivy was a bit surprised at the fact that Harley hadn't made another attempt to leave, but she continued. "You weren't given much opportunity to make friends outside of gymnastics." Ivy smiled kindly at the girl. "The boys didn't like you very much, did they? They were threatened by you because you were strong and tough, so you looked for men." Harley was beginning to tremble, her bottom lip, her eyes…Ivy had found the strategy, now she was going to let it carry her to victory. "But they took advantage of you. He took advantage of you, your coach. And he took something you loved away from you." Ivy watched as tears began to form in the blonde's eyes. "You saw your body as a currency and you exchanged it for an education that you could have earned yourself, Daffodil. But the other girls…they knew what you were doing and so they didn't want to be your friend either." A tear rolled down Harley's cheek and Ivy wiped it away quickly, knowing that it would burn Harley a little bit, but wouldn't leave a mark. Harley didn't flinch. "And then you show up here, and you see me…and you think I'm pulling the same routine, but I'm in control of it, I'm in control of them. It doesn't hurt me the way that it hurt you…You're done with having to be so strong. You want someone to be strong for you. You want to be dominated and you want to be told what to do and how to act and you don't want to have to think anymore. You don't want to be Harleen. You want to be Harley. Harley wants to be Harley." Ivy had tilled, sowed and watered. It was time to harvest. She sat back and waited for her flower to blossom.

"I don't wanna be Harley anymore!" the blonde exploded, tears streaming down he face. "I hate her! I don't want her here I just want to be me and I want to be smart and I want to be good at my job and I want to help you!"

"I know." Ivy wished she had worn a long sleeve so she could have hugged the girl, but the Arkham uniform made it so all she could offer was an understanding look.

"I know I could'a done it on my own, but I was scared, Red! I was scared I wasn't gonna be good enough- that I was just a cheap, Gotham trash. And Coach messed with me jus' like Woodrue messed with you!"

'Well, not exactly…' Ivy wanted to say. She had been through far worse than a…oh never mind, this was Harley's thing, hers could wait.

"So I was thinkin' bout' how it must jus' eat ya up inside that'cha never got payback on Woodrue, so I killed coach and…"

Harley continued blabbering but Ivy stopped listening. She WHAT?!

But she was only gone for a day! And now she's back and she won't shut up!" Harley was sobbing.

'God damn it!' This was not how Ivy wanted to win, she didn't want Dr. Quinzel to end up in here. First, she got logistical. She checked the hallway for Clarence, who had evidently left them alone to take his break. The security cameras were functional, but they only recorded images, not sound. So far as Ivy could tell, she was the only one within earshot. Good.

"Harleen." Ivy grabbed the blonde by the shoulders. "Never repeat that again."

"It's Harley!" The girl sobbed. "You can hear her stupid accent..."

"No." Ivy said quickly. "You, Harleen Quinzel, have that stupid accent. When you get upset you slip back into it, that's all. You're just one person, remember? Stop trying to steal Harvey's thing."

The girl's body stopped shaking, but she continued to cry.

"Harleen, you need to calm down and take control of the situation. We don't become different people as we mature, OK? We're the same person, just older and hopefully a little wiser. That's called character development and this Harley/Harleen thing is not flattering, alright? It's disingenuous to your original characterization and it will be exploited in really annoying ways by people who don't know jack-shit about psychology."

Harley was wiping the tears onto her white lab coat, and they were smearing onto her sleeve, taking her mascara with them.

'Idiot.' Ivy thought. But Harley didn't need to be called an idiot right now. She needed a friend. "You're just a sweet kid with too much empathy. You are not that crazy. I am crazy. I am psychotic and diabolical and delusional and it is rubbing off on you."

Harley looked up at the green woman, surprised at her words. "You're not crazy, Ivy. You're…"

"Misunderstood?" Ivy rolled her eyes. Maybe she had actually dosed the girl with pheromones.

"No…" Harleen began, straightening herself up. "You're sick." A grin took root in her features, spreading from her lips to her eyes. "But it sounds to me like you're getting a lot better. This…this is a breakthrough."

Ivy felt her chess board crumble. "YOU BITCH!"