She was supposed to be studying the plant cell mutations and tracking their reaction to the antidote she was trying to develop, but Ivy couldn't bring herself to think about anything other than Harley's bizarre behavior the night before.

Harley had always had a bit of a jealous streak in her – whether she chose to admit it or not - but it seemed to have exacerbated in the past few weeks, almost to the point of obsession.

That, coupled with her unenthused expressions whenever Ivy reassured her otherwise, made for a very complicated situation. One Ivy wasn't sure she had all the answers to.

It didn't help that their outing last night had only increased her concerns, especially when Harley seemed about five seconds away from murdering that poor kid, and it made it all the more strange when her girlfriend insisted on returning to the Lounge again tonight.

Pam had a low tolerance for social gatherings, even less so during the holidays, but she always endured them for Harley – also, she could never say no to the puppy dog eyes and all.

And yet, her own anti-social feelings aside, something didn't feel quite right about this whole situation.

"I mean why go back when she clearly didn't have any fun last night?"

"Maybe cause you were sulkin' in the corner, like usual." Frank piped in rather unhelpfully, "I mean Jesus, Ivy, even I know how to party, and I'm in a fucking pot!"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Okay, first of all, I don't sulk, okay? I just sit quietly in a corner and observe my surroundings, and that's completely different. And second of all, for perhaps the first time in my life, I actually encouraged Harley to take me dancing last night. I mean sure, was I doing it to ensure that frat boy lived through the night? Maybe. But the point is, I initiated the dancing, not her."

Frank listened to all this with a raised 'eyebrow'. "Ya, I don't believe it till I see it. No way you actually wanted to dance."

Ivy shook her head, "Look, I'm not gonna get into this with you. All I'm saying is Harley's been acting weird. I mean she spent the entire time glaring at people last night, and now, she tells me she actually wants to go back to the Lounge, it-it just doesn't make sense..." She sighed, "I just wish I knew what was going on with her…"

She looked to Frank, "Do you think she's unhappy with…with us?"

The plant crossed his 'arms'. "Ivy, you say a lot of stupid shit, but that's the stupidest one of all! Of course, she's happy with 'chu, or did you forget the months she spent pining over your sorry ass? I mean, can you even comprehend what it's like to wait for someone for that long? Checking your phone every five goddamn minutes waiting for them to return your call…"

Ivy leaned against the work bench with crossed arms. "Frank, I'm seriously sorry that the petunia ghosted you, but you can't go and take that shit out on me. And by the way, that plant was always a bitch, so honestly, you dodged a bullet."

"Fuck you, Ivy! She was my dream girl! My dream girl!"

She was spared from whatever tirade he's planned on next by the sound of their front door opening and slamming shut. "Ives!"

"In the lab, Harls."

Footsteps hurried her way, and Harley soon came into view. "Ive…" She frowned, "I thought you'd be getting ready."

Ivy didn't quite register the question, focusing instead on the obvious lack of pigtails that she was sure she'd seen Harley wearing when she left the house. She'd clearly gotten her hair done, but it was up in a bun, as if she were trying to hide the evidence. "Harls, what happened to your hair?"

"Oh, nothing," She touched it absently before returning to her question, "Come on, Ive. I made reservations at Mario's! We gotta get there in 30."

A quick glance at the clock reminded her of the time, "Sorry, Harls. I'll go put something on now."

"Kay!" She turned away, "Be sure to be your smoking hot self, kay? I want everyone to drool on the floor when they see you."

Since when? But before Ivy could ask her that, Harley was gone.

She turned to the sentient Venus fly trap. "See what I mean?"

Frank nodded meaningfully, "That's some real classic, A-level type bullshitting right there. She's up to something."

That much, they could agree on. But what?

Her plan was simple.

Step one: Find the sexiest dress ever.

Step two: Change her signature look to something more…more.

Step three: Acquire the secret ingredient.

Step one was the easiest by far. All she'd had to do was walk into Saks 5th Avenue, slam a fist on the table, and ask them to give her their sexiest dress.

Ten minutes later, she was walking outta there with a two-thousand-dollar red midi dress that left very little to the imagination. Paid, of course. No way she was gonna risk getting caught by Batsy tonight.

Then, with step one out of the way – and in record time – she'd gone over to one of those fancy looking hairdressers on Main and asked them to work their magic. She left that place about an hour later, sporting a gorgeous curly do that had her drooling all over herself.

Oh, this is gonna drive Ive insane!

But it wouldn't do to ruin the surprise just yet, so she wrapped her hair up in a bun as best she could, hoping Ivy wouldn't ask any questions before the whole ensemble was put together.

With step one and two outta the way, Harley made for home. Step three was a more delicate task, and she'd need Ivy to be MIA for that part.

"Ive!" She slammed the door shut behind her and dropped her stuff on the sofa.

"In the lab, Harls."

Harley winced. If Ivy was already ready and working in her lab…well, that made things just a touch more complicated for her."

She hurried to the door, but to her immense relief, Ivy was still in her lab wear. Thankfully, her girlfriend didn't ask too many questions, and when Harley pretended to walk away, Ivy left to get ready as well, leaving the coast clear for step three.

This was her chance.

Harley tip-toed back into the workspace, eyes peeled for –

"Harley, what'chu looking for?"

Shit. "Frank, hahaha…" She turned to the plant, silently berating herself for not having noticed him earlier.

"What'chu snooping around for? If Ivy found out-"

"She won't, Frank. She can't. You can't tell her."

Frank looked dubious. "What kind of bullshit are you up to, Harley?"

"Nothing." She groaned when he crossed his… whatever counted for arms in response. "Okay…I just wanted to find her pheromones."

"What? Why you want that?"

Harley contemplated the situation. Frank wasn't an entirely reliable co-conspirator, but he could help her search faster. And Ivy wouldn't take long to get ready…she could use all the help she could get.

"I'll tell you, but you can't tell Ivy."

"I don't keep secrets from her, Harley. And neither should you."

UGH. "This isn't a secret, it's just…she wouldn't understand even if I did tell her, okay? I'm doing this to help us, Frank. Come on, man, please?"

He raised his 'arms'. "Okay, you can tell yourself whatever you need to, but I'm gonna need some convincing if you want my silence."

She sighed. "I can get you a human."

He blinked. "Three."

She crossed her arms. "Two. And they'll be fresh." Three really wasn't a problem but lugging that many bodies up the stairs to their penthouse apartment was gonna be a pain. Especially if she couldn't explain the bodies to Ivy without admitting her wrongdoing.

He tutted. "Two is acceptable."

She could hear Ivy rustling about upstairs. She didn't have much time. "Then will you help me search?"

The plant had the gall to scoff. "Not for two, I won't."

This was getting ridiculous. "Fine, I'll search for it myself!" She turned back to the shelf and began rifling through the bottles, thanking Ivy's meticulous organization skills all the while, because that crazy dork of hers couldn't resist labelling every single thing.

So it really didn't take too long to find what she was looking for behind a stack of old research papers. "Gotcha."

"If you must know, Ivy's about done getting ready."

"I knew I liked you for a reason, Frankie boy." She grabbed the bottle and scurried upstairs to get ready in the guest bedroom.

Tonight was going to be perfect.