Title: Rappacini's Last Laugh (7)
Author: Allaine
Email: All characters are property of DC Comics. No profit intended, etc., etc.
Feedback: As always, greatly desired and usually responded to.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Distribution: If you want it, just ask.
Summary: Poison Ivy is mad in love, and Harley Quinn is sorely vexed by it. A DC Elseworlds fic.
Chapter 7
"So, uh . . . there's this guy who goes into a bar with an octopus," I finally said. I was no longer startled by her unexplained smoke-filled appearances. Yet from voluntarily taking off her mask, to revealing that her sister was a failed experiment of Woodrue's before succeeding with Pammy, the Phantasm had completely surprised me tonight.
"You're sure Woodrue did what you've claimed?" Phantasm asked. "That he altered your friend's genetics to make her love him?"
"Not completely," I admitted. "But it's the only explanation I could come up with for something they found in her DNA. And things are starting to make sense now. The way she droops when he's not there, then brightens when he is - it's like a flower at daybreak."
"A lot of people do that when they're with someone they love," she said.
"I've never seen the Floronic Man do ONE thing to deserve her love," I replied. "Besides, why would a guy like that make at least two tries, that we know of, to create someone like Poison Ivy without some assurance that she'd do whatever he asked?"
The Phantasm frowned. "That's true."
"Why do you even care?" I thought to ask. "Ivy had nothing to do with you wanting him dead the last time. You almost killed HER, in fact. I saw the scar," I added angrily.
"I thought she was doing it of her own free will," the Phantasm shot back. "I thought someone that stupid deserved the same fate."
I just remembered - I had decided earlier that I didn't like her, and actually regretted saving her from the Judge. I was in quite a pickle, but I couldn't kill Woodrue by myself.
"Look," I said, after taking a deep breath, "this is very simple. We go there, we kill him, we don't hurt Ivy. Knock knock, who's there, bang bang, bang bang who, bang bang you're dead."
"Is this going to involve more toilet paper?" the Phantasm asked dubiously.
"My sense of comedy is curiously absent tonight," I said.
"You're still assuming that I'll help you. If I become an accessory to murder, I'll be a criminal like you."
"I'll take the fall," I told her. "You can even take me into custody when we're finished. Your pal the Oracle won't even know you were in on it. She might guess, but she won't know."
"Your friend will know, and she'll tell the police who killed her lover."
"I've got someone working on an antidote," I said confidently. "If it works, she'll be GLAD he's dead, thus removing the only person on the planet who might actually miss him. And you're just grasping at straws now," I added. "What's more important - a two-bit hacker, or the man who murdered your sister?"
The Phantasm turned bright red, and she looked away. "I admired her so much," she whispered. "Talia was my role model. She was the most amazing person, and that bastard killed her trying to turn her into his own twisted slave." She looked back at me, and her lips were curled into a near-feral grimace. "We can leave right now," she snarled.
"Whoa, whoa," I said, holding up my hands. "I need the antidote for Ivy first. If I can inject her with it, she probably won't even try to stop us."
"How long will it take?"
"I've got a man working on it right now, and he's a genius. Give me until midnight, okay?" I gave her a slip of paper. "Here's the address. Meet me on one of the rooftops nearby at twelve. And do NOT go in first. You've got to give me time to cure Pamela. After that, we can both get our revenge."
I had never felt less funny in my life. Jason could die for that too.
"WHAT!"
"Heh heh," the chemist chuckled uneasily. "The look on your face just now, that was pretty - "
I grabbed him by the throat, and he stopped talking. "What do you mean, it might not WORK?"
"I'm dealing with uncharted territory here!" he said. "And you wanted guarantees that it wouldn't kill her! Well, you got your wish, it won't kill her. But it might not cure her either."
"Then I might as well just inject her with water!" I snapped, letting go.
"Look, what do you expect?" he asked. "Maybe if you gave me a few more days . . ."
"No," I said immediately.
"Why? It's not like she hasn't been that way for most of her adult life!"
"Gee, she's been his little fucktoy for the past ten years! What's a few more days, right?"
"Wouldn't know, I've never tried it. Why don't you ask her?"
"Damn it, not everything is a joke!" I shouted at him.
He stared at me. "It's like I don't even know you any more," he finally sniffed.
That made two of us.
"I need someone's help," I told him. "But if I make her wait a few more days, either she'll change her mind, or she'll go ahead without me, and THEN Ivy could die after all."
"She?" he asked curiously. "There aren't many women in Gotham who'd be of much help to you. Surely you don't mean Catwoman?"
"Not her," I said, regretting my slip. "And it doesn't matter. What matters is you tell me what I'm supposed to do with this." I gestured to the syringe and vial on the counter next to me.
He fussed with his lab coat until the collar was even. "Considering the time constraints," he said stiffly, "I was forced to create something a little different from what you requested. It's designed to undo genetic tampering, causing the subject's DNA to revert back to whatever it was before. But it's not very strong. It'll definitely work on someone with only mild genetic alterations. Poison Ivy, however, has an extremely complicated genetic structure, and there's no guarantee that this chemical is powerful or sophisticated enough to reverse what Woodrue did. That'll take more time."
"Then get to work on that," I told him. "If this stuff doesn't work, and both Woodrue and I are still alive after tonight, I'll come back for the new batch and wait for a second opportunity."
"Ah-ah," he reminded me. "We already made a bargain for the first batch, and you haven't fulfilled your end yet. You promised me a test case." He held up a small canister with the letter X on the side. "And archival footage of the field data, too. You bring me that, and we can talk about what a second batch will cost you."
I stared back at him. What was he thinking, that he could just direct me around like a lab assistant playing with mice? I wasn't a sidekick!
"But if you've changed your mind," he said regretfully, reaching for the vial as he began pulling the canister away.
That made me stop thinking about what I was doing. I shot out my hand and grabbed the canister from him. "I'll get your study results," I said.
He smiled evilly. "You'd really do anything for Pammy, wouldn't you? Even kill someone you don't even know yet."
Yeah, well maybe I didn't really know him either.
I crept into Jason's hideout through a second-story window. The hideout was, as always, festooned with plant life. If I was anyone else, I'd already be dangling from the ceiling. But Ivy gives me special shots every month or so. They give my perspiration a special kind of odor that her "babies" have been taught to recognize, and then they stop bothering me.
Sure enough, I felt a creeping vine wrap around my ankle for a moment, before pulling away. "That's a good little plant," I whispered. "I'm just going to give Mommy some special medicine of my - "
Then I felt something like twenty iron bands suddenly binding my arms and legs, before I was yanked backwards and flipped upside-down. "Woooo!" I cried out, alarmed.
I guess I needed new shots.
A few moments later, a light went on in the room, blinding me temporarily. When my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, I saw the Floronic Man looking at me. "He-hey, Jason," I said innocently. "The kids are a little rambunctious tonight, dontcha think?"
"Harley Quinn," he said, shaking his head. "What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?" He stepped forward and picked up the duffel bag I'd had over my shoulder until a minute ago. "If you needed a place to crash, why didn't you say so?"
"No offense, Jason, but when you use the word 'crash', I'm a little unsure as to what you mean."
He chuckled as he rooted around my things. "Well, what have we here?" he murmured, taking out my little vial. "Drugs without labels can be dangerous things," he said before dropping it back inside and putting the bag down again. "Unless you have a natural immunity, like Ivy, or a synthetic immunity like me."
"There's nothing natural about what you did to her," I growled.
"Such hostility," he said. "I gave her powers like she never dreamed of."
"And then you made her your puppet, you sick piece of shit!"
"I realize you don't approve of our relationship, but that's hardly cause for - "
"So, Jason, how come I never see any sunflowers around your hideouts?" I retorted.
Woodrue stopped. "What an odd thing to say," he said.
"I wonder if Pammy will say the same thing when I tell her you had her genetically altered to be your little love slave," I hissed back.
"Does it matter?" he asked smugly. "It won't change how she feels about me."
"You're admitting it?"
"Well, it IS rather frustrating when one can't discuss their true masterpieces," Woodrue said. "Although I'm not sure how a happy bimbo like you figured it out."
"It's called a DNA test," I said. "Really cutting edge. A lot of people don't even know about them yet."
He sneered at me, and I felt the plants coiled around my body tighten. I winced under the vise-like pressure.
"A pretty special DNA test, since the boys at Arkham never noticed," he said to me. "And I rather think this vial contains something that you think can cure Ivy, or kill me. I'll have to study it later. Not that it will do YOU any good. I think you've outlived your usefulness, Harley. It was nice always knowing where I could locate her sniveling carcass when I needed her for my experiments, but it wasn't really necessary. She'll always come back to me, Harley. It's in her GENES. Even if you tell her the truth, she won't be able to do anything about it. In fact, you might just make it worse."
The Phantasm was waiting outside for the signal. "You'll scream?" she had asked me.
"Trust me, when you hear it, you'll know it."
This was a good time for the Phantasm to help out, but the plants would just grab her too. I needed to wait until the Moronic Man was distracted.
Better yet, I needed to stay alive.
"Rosebud? Was it - Harley!"
"Ivy," he sighed. "I told you to wait in the bedroom while I investigated the intruder alert."
"Pammy!" I said quickly. "What's the big idea? Your shots stopped working!"
"Actually," Jason said, "this little incident is all your doing, Harley. Ever since you told us the Phantasm was back in town, I made sure the plants would take care of ALL intruders, even you with your 'special shots'."
"Why haven't you let her go yet?" Ivy asked him.
"Because, my dear," he said, "Harley is here to kill me."
She gaped at me. As the chemist had said earlier, it was almost funny - if the situation wasn't so damned serious. "KILL you? You must be mistaken! She's my friend, she would never hurt me like that."
I closed my eyes. With a few words Pammy made my heart hurt more than all of Woodrue's plant defenses. I couldn't let him control her any more!
"Why don't you deny it then, Harley?" he asked me. "Tell Ivy you're not here to kill me."
I opened my eyes when I smelled Ivy's scent. Unlike those first times we met, the odor no longer made me feel ill. She was standing in front of me. "He's wrong, isn't he?" she asked me.
"I thought he was never wrong," I said.
Ivy looked at me with pleading eyes. "Harley?"
This was a matter of life or death. Of course I lied, sort of. "I only came to protect you," I replied.
"Be that as it may," Jason said, "I can't take you at your word, Harley, so I'm going to have to kill you instead."
Ivy spun around. "But she said - "
"I don't care," he said coldly. "Her being around you no longer pleases me. Do you wish to displease me?"
She flinched. "Of - of course not, rosebud," she said.
"Am I not more important to you than her?"
Ivy nodded helplessly, and I sighed. I could see where this was going, and the irony wasn't really very amusing.
"Then you'll have no problem killing her for me, will you, petal?" he asked her.
I couldn't see her face, but I heard this odd, strangled noise coming out of her mouth. "I - I - " she stammered.
"I wish her death. Therefore she must die, right?"
Ivy was trembling all over. "If - if you wish it, then of course it must be so. But why do you wish it!" she asked plaintively.
"And if she must die," he went on, relentless as he ignored her question, "then wouldn't it be better for her if you were to do it? You know how I like to - experiment with my victims before I kill them."
Ivy took another step back, so that she almost bumped into me. I realized I was staring at her rear end. She really has an amazing ass, you know. I tried staring at it to take my mind off the situation. Because I could tell from her reaction that Jason could kill me VERY unpleasantly.
"I'll do it," she squeaked at last.
She squeaks too. Like her whimpers, not a pretty thing to behold.
"Good," he said. "I'll be in our room. Be there in five minutes, okay? I'm sure I can make you forget her."
"Oh-okay," she told him, and I could hear in her voice how much she wanted to believe him.
Jason picked up my bag, turned, and walked out without looking at me again. Arrogant jerk.
Ivy finally turned back to me, and she waved her hand. I was gently turned right side up again, and I swooned as I felt the blood rushing back out of my head. The vines let go of me, except for one that was still wrapped around my arms.
When my vision cleared, I could see the tears running down her face, and I couldn't help myself. I started crying too. "Oh, Pammy," I whispered.
"What were you THINKING?" she burst out. "Why did you have to put yourself in this position? Can't you see what you're making me do?"
"Looks like he's the one making you do it," I said.
"What's the difference?" she asked. "I can't deny him!"
"Not even to save your best friend's life?"
She put her hands over her face and shook her head vigorously.
Of course not. You might as well ask someone to defy the will of God.
"Well then," I finally said, "you'd better hurry. You've got four minutes left."
Ivy's hands dropped, and I saw how much that remark hurt her. Immediately I regretted it. The woman I loved was about to murder me, and even now I couldn't bear to injure her.
"In a minute," she said miserably, "one of these vines is going to wrap around your neck. It should be quick and relatively painless when your neck is snapped."
"No," I said.
"Harley - "
"No, Pammy. If you're going to kill me, I get to decide how. I want some of your blood."
She looked confused. "It'll take longer," she said. "And it will hurt worse."
"And I don't want it injected into me," I went on, ignoring her as easily as Jason had earlier. "I want . . . to drink it directly from your body."
Ivy was now positively stunned. "Harley, I don't understand."
"AND," I added, "I get to pick where I drink it from."
" . . . Where?"
"The base of your neck, where it meets the shoulders," I said.
She trembled. "Harley, please, what are you doing?"
I looked into her eyes. I'd decided not to tell her she was a slave, but I was about to do was even crueler. On the other hand, it MIGHT stop her from doing this. "If I could die like that, feeling my teeth bite through your skin and tasting your blood on my lips, I would die a happy clown, Pammy. Isn't that all a clown can ask for?"
"Harley?"
"Pammy. Didn't you ever see how much I'm in love with you?"
Ivy lurched backwards. It seemed like that was all she'd been doing tonight, stumbling back. "You and your jokes," she said weakly.
"Do you think I kissed your tears away just because I was being a friend?" I asked her. "You always say that no man can resist you. Well, I like women too. How could I ever resist what all those men can't?"
I think the appeal to her vanity made her understand. Of course I loved her. Everyone does. "This is something you want then?" she asked.
I was going to die tonight. The Phantasm could still save me. But the prospect of what she was about to do was too tempting to risk. "I've wanted to do this for years, Pammy," I said, my voice suddenly hoarse.
Ivy looked down for a moment. "Okay," she said. She gestured behind me, and I felt myself lifted up, so that I could bend over and just reach her.
"No," I said. "Release me and come closer. I swear on a stack of joke books, I won't try to escape. I just want my hands free."
Ivy hesitated, but then she looked at the clock. I think she was almost ready to grant any request just so she wouldn't be late getting back to Jason. It made my stomach turn, but the feeling went away as I was lowered again. My arms were suddenly free, and I approached her.
"Thank you, love," I murmured as I pulled her slightly taller body down and leaned close.
Carefully I began sucking her neck near the collarbone. She tasted, as always, like fruit. Usually she tasted a bit overripe, but tonight she tasted like ambrosia.
She shivered under my oral caress, and I put my hands on her forearms as I bit down. You'd expect her blood to taste of salt or metal. To be honest, I'm not really sure WHAT she tasted like. My brain was starting to fail at that point. I was running on instinct then, and my instincts told me not to stop until I was dead.
I felt Ivy arch her back as I sucked at her neck, allowing my hands to move up and down her arms. A moan barely escaped her lips, and I wondered - when was the last time Jason had kissed her like this?
That was my last conscious thought. After that, there were just sensations. I felt Ivy's hands on my back, and I felt mine on hers. I felt our bodies pressing tightly together, and I heard her moan a second time.
Lastly, I tasted her hot breath when I felt my lips devouring hers. And I know I felt her kissing me back.
Her poisons were circulating in my lungs and running through my arteries. I had enough toxins in me to make my hair fall out. But that wasn't why my heart exploded. I'd just never felt such waves of intense pleasure in my whole life. Like I'd promised, I was a clown who was smiling on the inside.
The only way I could have felt better was if I'd known that Phantasm was going to kill Woodrue later that night. I hated him so completely for having this woman in his bed as often as he liked, without even appreciating it.
But I guess I'd never know. Pooh.
And then everything went black.
To be continued . . . ?
