"Excuse me," the blonde said to the woman at the front desk. "I'm looking for a Detective Montoya?"

"Do you have an appointment?" The secretary asked.

The blonde shook her head. "I was told she was handling Coach Aristov's case."

"I see." The secretary nodded. "I'll check if she's in."

"I am." Montoya's voice came from behind the blonde who turned around to greet her. "Renee Montoya. You are…?"

"Irena. Pleasure." The women offered her hand to the detective who shook it.

"Well, Irena, how about you come back to my office. You were asking about the Aristov case?"

They made their way down the hallway and into a stuffy office with two desk crammed uncomfortably close in the small space. One desk was noticeably neater as opposed to the other which was strewn with files and loose papers. Montoya sat down at the tidier one.

"So how did you know Aristov?" The detective asked.

"Well I don't, not really anyway." The blonde told her apologetically.

Montoya sighed. "Damn. We're at a bit of a standstill with that one. If it's information you want, there's not much I can give. I'm sorry."

"I mean that I know of him." The woman explained. "My daughter is a gymnast, you see. We recently moved to Gotham and were scoping out a possible coach for her…"

"And that's when you met him?" Montoya asked.

"No." The blonde shook her head. "I never met him. I had an appointment set up, but certain…unsavory allegations were brought to our attention and we just didn't feel comfortable."

Montoya furrowed her brow. "What sort of allegations?"

"Well…" the woman's almost unnaturally blue eyes looked around the room quickly. "We heard that he might…occasionally act…inappropriately towards the girls."

"Huh…" Montoya nodded slowly. "Well that would certainly give someone motive. Who told you that?"

The blonde shrugged. "I'm sorry. It was just mom gossip, but it seemed to be the general consensus."

"We interviewed multiple parents and never heard about anything like that."

The woman shrugged again. "Perhaps I was mistaken. I just thought if there was even a chance I could help…"

"No, you know what?" Montoya stood up. "Thank you. Really, we appreciate any tips with this one. We'll check it out."

The blonde nodded and took a business card before being shown out of the station.

"What was that about?" Detective Bullock asked once Montoya returned to their shared office.

"Let's go back through the history." Montoya said, stripping her jacket off and laying it on the back of her chair.

Bullock grumbled. "What are we looking for?"

"Sexual abuse."

Poison Ivy flipped through the contract for the 8th time. "What's the catch?"

"No catch." Dr. Quinzel grinned. "You just have to behave yourself."

Ivy narrowed her eyes, looking from Harleen to Batman and back to Harleen again and then back at the paper, which she appeared to be reading even slower now.

"Jesus, Isley!" Harley threw her arms up, startling Batman. "I thought you were a genius or whatever. This is an easy decision. Swallow your pride and sign on the dotted line."

Batman's body tensed more during her last line then when she had startled him. He was now watching Ivy was visible unease.

The villainess stared at him like she was looking down the barrel of a gun. "What changed your mind?"

"My mind didn't need changing, Ivy. It needed convincing." He told her.

"Well what convinced you, then?" She folded the contract and placed it on her lap, giving his answer her full attention.

He smirked. "I read a thesis published by a young woman named Pamela Isley. She made some intelligent and very rational points." He stretched the 'rational' for emphasis.

"You're really strong, Pam. But even you have to admit that the combined efforts of you, Batman and the rest of those meta-whatevers would be way more effective than you taking on the cause alone." Harley told her. "So you have a decision to make. What's more important? You or the plants." She watched as Ivy's eyes filled up with tears, focusing the intensity of their colors.

Batman cleared his throat uncomfortably at her show of emotion.

Dr. Quinzel stepped forward and sat down directly in front of the glass. "Imagine, Pam," she whispered, "a team of the most powerful people on earth, fighting for your cause. You could enact real change on a global scale." Ivy had drawn her knees to her chest. "I think I know what Pamela would do…now what about Ivy?"

"I told you," the red head's voice trembled. "I'm not that kind of crazy."

Dr. Quinzel smiled kindly and placed her palm on the glass. "Exactly. Let's pretend…just for a minute…that Jason Woodrue never happened. That Pamela got an education, and that's it. And so here you are, looking at this incredible opportunity you've been given to actually help save the word, and when you read it…your first feeling isn't anger. It's excitement. You don't think about Jason Woodrue because you don't have to. So what's it going to be, Pamela? Poison Ivy, or planet earth?"

Harleen's eyes grew wide as she watched Ivy's fern slither out of its pot behind her. Batman went for his utility belt but Harley stopped him by placing a gentle hand on his forearm without taking her eyes off the animalistic fern.

It saddled up beside Pamela, wrapping its fronds around her waist and shoulders. She let the tears fall now as she nuzzled against her pet. They stayed like that for a moment, intertwined, before the woman reached for the pen and uncapped it. "I shouldn't be this hard…" She whispered.

"Yes it should, Pam." Harley's voice was soft. "The woman you became saved you just as much as the plants did. You're just saying a proper thank you. All you have to give up in return is your anger. That's it."

Ivy, at long last, touched pen to paper and signed her name "Pamela Lillian Isley, PhD" on the dotted line. After starring at the ink as it dried on the paper for a moment, slid it back through the food slot in the door. "What happens if I don't keep my word?"

Batman was rolling the paper back up. "You have been declared legally sane, Dr. Isley. If you break this contract you will be sent to a real prison where there are no second chances. And I doubt they would let you keep a plant in your cell."