Chapter 25

Harleen stroked her hands through Jonathon's hair, his head was on her chest and his arms around her hips. They were in their bed, the sheets pulled up to her waist and the only sound was the constant noise from Gotham's traffic. They quite often just spent time holding each other, quietly calming each other and soothing their worries. This was their little bubble of safety and calm. It was the most important thing that they had.

"I love you," Harleen whispered.

"Good," Jonathon chuckled tiredly. He didn't say it back often and she never took offence, she knew it was a hard situation for him and saying those words were hard for him. He could show her how he felt, but he had a very difficult time saying it. She didn't care, she knew that it reassured him to hear her say it.

"What are you thinking about?"

"The future," he answered honestly. "Being old and grey and in a wheelchair…"

"No, that's not… Jay tell me," Harley insisted.

"Fine," he sighed. "I was thinking about how our lives will be in five years' time. Ten years… Thirty years…"

"And?"

He didn't answer, but moved to lean over her and he kissed her gently. He smirked as her legs moved around his hips and he twisted his fingers through hers. He stopped the kiss and chuckled as she tried to catch his lips again.

"You are not allowed to leave ever again." Jonathon said sternly. "Are you listening to me, Harley? Come what may, you are not leaving."

"I promise," Harleen answered. "I will never leave you again."

"I mean it, Harley, if you ever even consider replacing me, I will make your life hell."

"I know," Harleen nodded.

He crashed his mouth against hers and stole her breath away. She pressed up against him and he wrapped his arm around her, keeping her there. The images that had invaded his dreams and nightmares were things to keep to himself. The little evil voice on his shoulder would mock him tirelessly, but just for a few seconds Jonathon could allow himself to glory in those moments of utter bliss.

He could let his imagination run riot in the safety of his dreams and it often put him in situations he could only dream of. He could live out fantasies of families, weddings, old age and everything in between. He saw them as the head of Arkham, changing directions of care and revamping the entire building and how things were run. He saw them reach the stars and also crash to the ground, but the thing he kept on holding to was that they were always together.

He kept kissing her, she couldn't ask questions if her mouth was busy and he knew she'd give up and just go with it. She just knew him too well. But what did he expect? They were the greatest Psychiatrists in Gotham.

"You'll have to answer me one day," Harley purred as she moved her mouth to his neck.

"We'll see about that." Jonathon smirked. She giggled and let herself flop back on his arm, a dead weight so he'd have to let her go. Her plan worked and he dropped her to the mattress, he shook his head and moved to sit with his back against the head board and she clambered into his lap.

"You…. Are a pain in the ass," Jonathon huffed.

"But I'm your favourite pain in the ass," Harleen pointed out. "So tell me what you were thinking."

"Nope," Jonathon said sternly. "They're not for you to pull apart and get obsessive over. Somethings I keep to myself."

"Ugh," Harleen grunted. "But… baby…."

"You won't get around me," Jonathon told her. "So I suggest you go and get your ass in the shower and going to sleep."

"But-"

"I said NO, Harley!" Jonathon snapped. "Sorry… Sorry… just no."

"Okay," Harleen said sheepishly and went to move off of him, he grabbed her hips and kept her where she was. He leaned his forehead into hers and took a deep breath. She wasn't scared, but she was ready to move should he get rough. He hadn't hit her again, but sometimes he would push and shove.

"I was thinking about... You and me on a tropical beach on our honeymoon," Jonathon told her. "There's no one around and we're sitting in the shade, a cocktail for each of us and… you're just so damn beautiful."

"Thank you," Harleen whispered and kissed him quickly. She rubbed her hands on his shoulders and then down over his chest. He pulled her flush against him and groaned a little as she pressed her nails lightly into his skin. She was about to say something when her phone started to ring.

"Ignore it," Jonathon said against her mouth.

"It could be-"

"I said ignore it." He growled.

"It's my dad," Harleen replied. She lunged to the bedside table and grabbed her cell phone. She returned to her seat on Jonathon's lap and he rubbed her sides and ass as she tried to concentrate. Her father had been out of prison for months, he'd moved out of her mothers and had filed for divorce.

"Morning dad," Harleen said cheerily.

"Harleen, are you still on your day off?"

"Yeah, but Jay has to go to work-"

"You need to go to Arkham with him, that… Pamela, is it? She's… just go to Arkham for your old dad, yeah?"

"What has happened?" There was a loud knocking on the door and shouting, Harley moved as Jonathon sprang from the bed and hastily pulled on underwear and pants. "Dad, tell me what is going on? Is Pamela okay?"

"Harley, get off the phone and get dressed," Jonathon yelled from the stairs. "We need to go to Arkham – the cops are taking us whether we want to or not."

"I'll call you later," Harleen told her father and hung up. She threw on a pair of leggings, a vest top and Jonathon's university hoodie. She grabbed her phone, purse and keys as Jonathon finished getting dressed. He grabbed their security passes and the police escorted them to their cars.

"Miss Quinzel, Mr Carr, we have reason to believe you may be in danger, can you confirm you know Pamela Isely?" Commissioner Gordon asked from the front passenger seat.

"Yeah, she's my best friend." Harleen answered, checking her phone to see if Pam had been in contact.

"Yes, she's a work colleague and fellow senior staff member of Arkham Asylum," Jonathon said calmly.

"We have video evidence of her killing 5 men and destroying the bodies with her… unusual abilities," Gordon told them both. "As her closest ties, you are both going to Arkham to stay safe until we can apprehend her. We have Officers in the hospital already to try and create some kind of boundary that might keep her out."

"Don't hurt her-"

"Miss Quinzel, if she makes moves to hurt any more people, then we will have to act," Jim said, his voice strained and annoyed. "From what your boss has told us, she doesn't have human biology so she won't die from a bullet wound. We just to find a way to contain her and arrest her."

"How did she do it?" Jonathon asked.

"Strangled the first two after they tried to take her purse," Jim answered. "The other three she used a vine to impale them. Has she shown any violent behaviour before?"

"She's always a cold bitch, but never violent," Jonathon answered. "Potential psychotic break due to recent health changes… but it's quite the break to go and murder five people from a life without any previous violent behaviour."

"She struggles with empathy," Harleen said quietly. "She doesn't feel connected to people. She hasn't any family and I'm her only friend. As much as I'm sure she didn't go out to kill people, I don't know if she would've felt anything about doing it. I mean, I love her, she's just the best but… she doesn't mix well with people, especially if they've done wrong by her. Since her change, she's just... she can feel what plants feel, she feels more at home with them. But humans are just a chore. Like mowing the lawn or washing a car. It's not… we're just not important to her."

"Except for you," Jim Gordon said.

"Except for me." Harley nodded. "I know where she is."

"What?" Gordon snapped.

"She'll be at home. Let me talk to her and… I'll get her to agree to go quietly." Harleen sighed.

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Pamela's house was wrapped in vines, flowers, leaves and spiked thorns. She watched as the door was opened by a long vine and she walked in. A big pink flower almost purred at her and she tickled it a little, it squeaked and nudged her towards the stairs.

"Pammy?" Harleen asked carefully. "Pammy, are you here?"

"I'm going by something else now, Harley."

"Pammy, I'm scared. I've had police trying to take me to Arkham, saying that you killed people and… Please tell me it wasn't you-"

Harleen finished getting to the top of the stairs and peered into the darkness of Pamela's bedroom. Her friend walked into view and she looked very different. She had vines creeping up her legs, around her waist and onto her shoulders, she was practically glowing and all around her flowers grew.

"Red…?" Harleen said softly. "Pammy, talk to me."

"Pamela Isley may be my name, but Gotham will know me by another. Now, they will call me. Poison Ivy."

"Pam-"

"Including you, Harleen."