Ivy snapped the breadstick in her hand and reached for another one, only to find their basket now empty. Crumby carcasses born from her rage littered the table, but she felt no satisfaction in the bloodshed, only a lingering thirst for more.

The evening had started out pleasantly enough. With Harley choosing to take her advice – for once – about relaxing and just enjoying their time together, they'd actually had a wonderful, quiet dinner at Mario's, exchanging giggly conversation and tender looks over a delightful eggplant parm, before driving over to the Iceberg Lounge for drinks.

There had been one weird instance of the waiter nearly tripping over himself as he approached their table, then apologizing profusely and stammering out in painful embarrassment that he found Harley very attractive, but it was endearing…and the parm was still great.

No, it wasn't until they'd entered the lounge that everything went to shit.

Ivy had to admit that Harley had gone above and beyond for tonight's festivities. In fact, she remembered sitting there in the living room, jaw on the floor – and probably even drooling a little – when Harley emerged from the guest bedroom wearing her gloriously revealing dress and showing off her perfectly coifed curls.

And that was the reaction from someone who saw Harley every day, had seen her in almost every outfit imaginable, and often without one at all.

So, perhaps it shouldn't have been so much of a surprise that people began tripping all over themselves the moment she stepped through the glass doors. Perhaps it really shouldn't have bothered her when guys and girls alike openly gaped at her as they crossed the dance floor to the bar. And perhaps she shouldn't have grit her teeth when a rando – a stunning brunette in a dark blue minidress – came up to her and slipped Harley her number before winking and stage-whispering "Call me."

But it was and it did and she did and it bugged her.

Vaguely, she wondered if this was karma for the comments she'd made to Harley the night before, because if this was what her girlfriend dealt with night after night, then she could understand descending into a murderous rage.

She's mine, damnit! What about that is so hard to understand?

For her part, Harley was incredibly gracious about the whole thing. She brushed off admirers with a soft "Sorry, I'm taken" and ripped up any numbers she got the moment they were out of sight.

But when a tall, gorgeous lady with flowing black hair and deep blue eyes that could kill came up to Harley and asked for a dance, and Harley turned to her with a doe-eyed innocence and asked, "Can I, Pammy?", she felt herself crumble.

"Sure, Harls." She managed through a clenched jaw. And the moment Harley was out of sight, dancing across the room in the arms of some gorgeous stranger, Ivy began her quest for destruction.

She probably wasn't being very fair about the whole thing, and Harley certainly had no part in any of it, but Ivy found herself wanting to blame someone, anyone for the situation she found herself in.

But maybe there's no one to blame but me…

Despite the promise of excitement that came with a moniker like Poison Ivy, she wasn't terribly fun or exciting or even that villainous, really. She was just a botanist who also happened to be an ecoterrorist. (Ecoterrorism was not villainy, and she would die on that hill, damnit!)

But even she was aware of how incredibly boring she could be, especially to someone as adventurous and bouncing-off-the-walls crazy as Harley. Perhaps she'd deluded herself into thinking that now, after almost two years into their relationship and about three years of friendship before that, that it didn't matter anymore. That Harley understood and accepted and didn't mind her…boringness.

But if the night's events were any indication, Harley did probably mind. Maybe not consciously, but surely there was some part of her that wished she could be as untethered as she had been after breaking up with the Joker. Single, free, and ready to explore.

But Ivy wasn't ready to lose her. She was too selfish to be the kind of person that gave their love up for the greater good or whatever bullshit they did in movies. She had pined and loved Harley for so long that she was the only person she could imagine a future with.

And she had, too.

She couldn't ignore her feelings for Harley's happiness and let her go if that was what she needed…but she sure as hell wasn't going to let Harley suffer for her sake either.

Harley wanted fun, did she?

Ivy downed the shot of scotch Harley had left behind and rose from the table.

She had a dance to interrupt.

She was a fucking genius.

Sure, she kind of technically was some sort of brainiac - Ph.D, remember? – but tonight, she'd surpassed all of that and more.

Because she had succeeded in making Ivy a jealous little jellybean. And it was paying off in dividends.

It had started over dinner, after Harley snuck off to the bathroom and sprayed the pheromones all over her with a few quick squirts. The effect had been almost instantaneous, with the poor waiter tripping over himself to admire her before an adorably confused Ivy.

But once they entered the packed lounge – it was New Year's Eve after all – that's when Harley really put her plan to the test.

She didn't quite remember if Ivy's pheromones attracted women as well as it did men, but whether it was the spray after all, or just her new look, it had men and women of all sorts ogling her openly, sliding up to her and handing her their phone numbers with flirty looks and coy smiles, asking her to dance in deep, husky growls…

So this was what heaven felt like.

She had to admit…it was nice to be reminded of her overall hotness. She certainly could understand why Ivy coveted the attention – pheromone-induced or otherwise - because It fed her soul, sent a delicious tingle down her spine, made her stand up a little straighter, knowing that everyone was either drooling all over her or wishing they were in her shoes to be drooled all over.

Either way, there was a lot of drooling, and for once, Harley was glad to be the object of lust.

She could feel Ivy's discomfort rolling off the woman in waves every time a new admirer came up to chitchat, but she found herself not feeling incredibly sorry for her girlfriend. Partly because this was the plan all along, and partly because she was having too much fun – for the first time in a while – to let Ivy's dour mood spoil hers.

She did however do her best to reassure Ivy by tearing up any notes she got and turning away anyone who openly flirted with her. After all, she was just looking to make her girlfriend jealous, nothing more, and for her part, Ivy had always returned the same courtesy.

No, the whole thing wasn't about Ivy's behavior, it was about reciprocity, about needing to put Ivy in her shoes so that her girlfriend understood her feelings for once.

So far, it was working like a charm.

But for all her planning and predictions about how the night would turn out, even Harley was pleasantly surprised by the results.

She'd been dancing with that divine looking woman – Diana, she said her name was – when she saw her girlfriend crossing the dance floor, the crowd parting like the freaking Dead Sea at the sight of Ivy's death glare.

Harley barely had time to acknowledge Pam's presence before the woman reached for her waist and tugged her into a searing kiss, her other hand tangling itself in her curly blonde hair to bring them impossibly closer.

The kiss was demanding, unyielding in its quest to conquer its territory. Trapped in between firm, plush lips and a defiant tongue that danced so deliciously with her own, Harley found herself quickly growing addicted to this new side of Ivy.

If jealousy had a taste, she figured it would be just like this, equal parts sweet, sweet vindication mixed with spicy, fiery lust.

Either way, she'd never known a more delicious sensation.

All too quickly for her liking, Ivy pulled away from their heated kiss, but there was something dangerous sparkling in her eyes. A greedy hunger. A fervent craving. "Dance with me?"

Harley barely remembered to nod before guiding her hands into Ivy's waiting ones. It was a mere afterthought that had her searching for Diana, but it seemed the woman had long since left the couple alone to their own devices. Harley didn't find herself all too bothered by that development, not with the way Pammy was wrapping her arm around her waist and tugging her so close that not even air could make itself at home between them.

Harley found herself smiling a little at the role-reversal. "No one in their right mind would call this a slow waltz, Pammy."

"I don't care." A raspy little growl sounded. The fingers around her hip gripped harder in response sending a delightful shiver down the jester's spine. This was everything she'd wanted and more.

Are you absolutely sure Ivy's pheromones don't work on her? She looks like she's about to devour you right here on the floor.

God, here to ruin things, Harleen? Well, I'm pleased to report that things are progressing pretty well without you. Ivy knows how I feel now and I didn't even have to resort to any of your psycho mumbo jumbo.

Does she though? Sure, she's jealous now, but what is Ivy going to say when she finds out what you've done? When she finds out you've manipulated her into feeling this way…?

"Oh, put away your first-year psych textbook, Doc! I didn't manipulate her. All I did was-"

"Stage a fake scenario without her knowledge to elicit certain emotions from her?" About now, Harleen was probably adjusting her glasses with an air of knowing superiority. "You do realize this is Ivy we're talking about, the same Ivy that struggles to accept her own emotions and might – oh, I don't know – freak out if she were to discover that you've been toying with her feelings just for fun?"

Harley fell silent. For the first time all night, it was beginning to dawn on her that perhaps Ivy wouldn't be so amenable to the whole situation if she ever caught winds of her doings. UGH, leave it to Harleen to ruin a fucking moment.

You haven't thought this through, have you? What are you going to do when she finds out, Harley?

Nothing. Because she's not going to find out. I've got this under control. In fact…I think tonight's shaping up to be fucking fantastic. I mean, have you seen the way Ivy's looking at me?

She could imagine Harleen's stern gaze …Yeah, you haven't thought this through.

Harley found herself at wit's end. Yes, I have! It's all done and sorted out so just leave us alone, ya perv! We don't need you! I don't need YOU!

She found herself wincing at the unnecessary harshness of it all, but before she could bring herself to apologize -

Fine. I'll leave you alone, but remember, Harley. Whether you want to face your fears or not, they will eventually come back to bite you. Just…just be careful, okay? You're not the only one who might get hurt.

Harley harrumphed and dismissed her words, forcing herself to return to the deeply sultry look and secure arms that held her. Harleen was just being paranoid. Or jealous. Maybe both.

Figures. I'm the one who gets to experience all of this…she's just salty, that's all.

So why didn't she believe it herself?

"I sure hope I'm the only one on your mind, right now."

Harley startled out of her thoughts and looked up into the swirling emerald orbs waiting for her. "Of course ya are, Ive. It's only ever been you."

Ivy nodded slowly, leaning in so that her supple lips just barely brushed her cheek. It was not really a kiss, but it felt far more intimate just the same – especially coming from a woman who consider hand-holding PDA.

At least Harleen was right about one thing. Being green is a good look on Ivy.

Harley closed her eyes to revel in the slow, soft, open-mouthed kisses Ivy had begun placing against her glowing alabaster skin. She just wanted to forget every fucking little thing and live in the moment, just her and Ivy, just like it should be.

But for all her efforts to block the world out, she could feel strange eyes on them, maybe judging them for displaying such affections so openly, maybe even secretly wanting to be one – or both of them.

Harley bristled at their probably lurid thoughts. Jealousy was the name of the game tonight, but Harley had her limits, and this was one of them.

"Ive?"

Ivy's breath ran hot against her cheek as she paused in her ministrations. "Yes, Harls?"

Harley swallowed, "Take me home."