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Pygmalion
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Chapter 5
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"Don't walk in front of me… I may not follow
Don't walk behind me… I may not lead
Walk beside me… just be my friend" ― Albert Camus
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"Wait right there, Ms. Quinn."
Huff.
"Wh-at … ? I thought you said I could leave …"
Glare.
"I am not stopping you. However, there are a few more things you need to know."
"Oh, and what might those things be, pray tell?"
Shuffle.
"You are not the only player in this game."
Giggle.
"No?"
Pause.
"There are a few others out there that will be … your peers."
Laugh.
"Don't you have any faith in me?"
Pause.
Glare.
"Their circumstances are different than yours, but if and when they can be of assistance, I insist you go to them. Like I said before, we have no formal agreement."
Giggle.
"I know, I remember—no face-to-face contact, hm?"
"Correct."
Pause.
"You gonna tell me who these new friends of mine are? How do I know I'll like them or not?"
"You will like them, I can assure you."
"I will?"
"Indeed."
"And you know this … how?"
"Because you have already met."
Pause.
Laugh.
"Really?"
"They are old friends of yours."
Pause.
"I only have so many friends."
"Then it's a good thing that I found the only ones you have."
Shuffle.
"I am sure you are familiar with Ms. Kyle and Dr. Isley? Of course, how could you forget your own foster sisters—or at least, Dr. Quinzel's?"
Laugh.
"Well played, boss lady, well played."
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"Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing." – Clive James
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"Four hours?"
Yeah, we are most definitely in trouble.
Like we weren't in trouble before?
As their little red sports car pulled up to a red light, Harley winced, flashing a smile at the figure sitting next to her in the car. The teenager beside her looked at her from the passenger's seat with wide lilac eyes, as if the blonde had just suddenly grown another head.
Or two.
"Four hours?" The younger girl looked up and down Harley's figure as if to inspect it. "How are you … even … sitting up straight?" was her horror-filled question.
Very carefully …
Harley grinned meekly, baring her teeth with the smile. Between her teeth was another lollipop; it wasn't nearly as good as the last one, but for the strangest reason Harley had been craving sweets all morning. Unfortunately, the small one in the glove compartment had been her only solution to the problem. As Harley gripped the steering wheel, she looked like she was trying to shrink away from the situation.
Sadly, that was impossible.
We have bigger fish to fry …
After Harley had answered a series of embarrassing questions, the brunette teenager that had arrived to transport her home demanded that Harley take the driver's seat and proceed to drive. On threat of telling a great number of people of her recent "activities", the girl insisted that Harley drive straight to Beaudelaire's Greenhouse.
As in, not home.
Although she put up a fuss and whined that she wanted to see her babies, Harley was quelled after a brief call to Freddy to see if her puppies were doing well. Once she heard a few assuring cackles on the other end of the line, Harley put up no more of a protest.
Besides, she was not going to object to visiting an old friend.
We haven't seen Ivy in such a long time …
Not since we blew up that pharmaceutical plant a few months ago …
Did we ever find out the reason behind that … ?
That was closer to a year ago …
Although Harley did not object to visiting the infamous mistress of greenery, she was still a little curious as to why they weren't going home—to Harley's home at least.
Well, it was more like a hideout, but she wasn't about to split hairs …
But the blonde kept silent when she realized the anger of her companion. Sadly, she didn't think it was a good idea to ask too many questions—it would probably get her into more trouble. Once Harley looked over the seventeen year old a little bit more, it was obvious that the brunette was not a happy camper.
Upon closer inspection Harley could detect bags under her eyes.
In other words, she was probably very, very tired. The blonde didn't know what her friend had been up to before she called, but seeing as it was still rather early in the morning, Harley would have to guess that it was a long night for her.
Studying too hard, as usual.
If that's what you want to call it …
And if there was one thing that Harley knew not to do, it was attempt to poke an angry, sleepy tiger.
A purple tiger, that was.
Once the vehicle's engine started, and the pair of them were en route, the younger girl pulled out her own bag and started changing her clothes right there in the car. Well, she wasn't changing them entirely, more like she was exchanging the outer layers with a few pieces that were a little less casual. Harley didn't question this decision, seeing as they were going to Beaudelaire's.
The younger girl couldn't be caught in street clothes at a villain's widely known residence.
And the best place to change was in a place that was moving.
No wonder she demanded that Harley drive.
The girl moved with the swiftness of someone who had grown up in a moving vehicle, quickly removing her shoes, jacket and skirt. What was left was her black crop top, a pair of high-waisted mini shorts that were hidden beneath her skirt, and her stockings. She quickly stuffed her discarded clothes inside the bag while she started putting on the other things.
As she buckled the steel-boned black corset up her stomach, she made sure to pull it tight. The vintage piece was cumbersome, but knowing the brunette it was bound to have an alternate purpose than for style.
Gotta be bulletproof.
Once she adjusted the corset's straps, she next pulled out a wide elastic band that she also encircled around her waist. This didn't seem to have much of a purpose, but soon Harley saw her stuffing throwing knives into the hidden pockets around her ribs. She even loaded a tiny pistol before tucking it in the pocket at the base of her spine. Around her hips she donned a leather harness equipped with pockets that fastened to her thighs. They were filled with a few more pieces of glinting metal, that Harley could only assume were either ammo or more pointy objects.
With those layers in place, she took out a rather fabulous velvet coat, the indigo purple fabric shimmering as she pulled it over her shoulders and buckled the belt around her waist. The coat was thicker, and looked more like a dress than anything else, coming down past the pockets around her thighs to keep them hidden. Also, the billowing at her back hid all the secret items at her waist as well.
Once her clothes were in place, she pulled on a pair of thigh-high boots that matched the coat's color almost perfectly. Of course, knowing her, the items were probably cut from the same cloth—literally.
The girl had Cat to thank for that.
Having a fashion designer for a roommate is so helpful …
Before she pulled on a pair of leather gloves, the teenager pulled out two very interesting pieces; a mask and a wig.
The wig was long and thick, but very high quality. If Harley had to say that there was anything strange about it, it was that its color was almost identical to her coat and boots. The girl attached it to her head by using her own hair to weave into the base. Seeing as there was always a chance of it falling off, she secured it fast to lower those chances.
Her mask, that was also secured to the wig, was the most recognizable thing about the girl's uniform—it was the only thing she carried over to each outfit, seeing as she went through so many. It wasn't the indigo purple color of the leather that conformed to her jaw and cheeks, but the distinctive points emerging from her temples formed from the v-shape cut out at her forehead. If the points weren't so stiff, they might have been mistaken as ears.
Of course, Harley's companion was not attempting to look like an animal of any kind.
During the entire transformation, Harley did not speak as she really didn't want to be scolded again. She already got enough of that as soon as she answered the younger girl's really big question. But as soon as her mask was in place, and she was adjusting the string on her compact crossbow, she finally spoke up.
And her first question was concerning Harley banging a certain infamous clown.
Somehow, before she even realized it, Harley blurted out a lot of information that she really, really didn't want to reveal.
Mainly the longest "banging" session she went into in the last five days.
As soon as the question emerged about her body's state, Harley had to admit that she really didn't know how she was sitting up straight.
That's pathetic.
How aren't we curled up in a corner?
Our lady bits were a little more than stimulated …
Harley bit her lip nervously. "Well …" she started, trying to figure out what to say to her question. The sensations over the last few days were rushing back into her extremities, and she was trying to suppress it. She let out a shiver. "It went really slowly …"
As she answered, Harley pulled into the historically Gothic section of the city where the buildings were probably about as old as the city. The growling gray sky and musty rain only added to the spooky atmosphere.
It was one of the reasons Harley didn't come by more often.
The Victorian mansions were highlighted by all the stained glass and curvy ironwork, as well as luxurious sconces that passed themselves off as street lamps. It was also one of the greenest parts of the city, with flowers and trees peppering the brick sidewalks and stone walls around the section's main attraction; the park. It was this attraction that they turned into, their destination in the center of the intricate maze of twisted trees.
While they drove through the greenery, the girl besides Harley blinked at her response. Horror was gone, and replaced with curiosity. "You mean, like … that Tantric stuff?"
Harley paused.
Huh?
Where'd that come from?
How come she knows about that stuff?
"Um … well, I guess if you wanna call it that … " She looked over her companion. "How do you, uh, know about that … ?"
The younger girl caught onto her surprise, and only rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "I'm seventeen, Aunt Harley—not dead. There are girls my age with three kids," the brunette deadpanned, tucking her crossbow into the bag around her right thigh.
Very true …
"Yeah, but you don't," Harley responded. At least she hoped her little Leni was still pure—for now. "I thought you didn't have any experience in that area."
"I don't," she confirmed like it was the most obvious fact. "Like I have time for that when I have to look after you three? Besides, guys are jerks most of the time. You were the one that told me that."
Oh yeah, I did …
Harleen did, not you ...
Like that really matters right now ... ?
"And who the hell would I screw, eh?" the younger female added with a small chuckle. "Like we're always coming across guys my age?"
She has a point.
All of our "friends" are way too old for Leni …
Harley rocked her head from side to side with her confirmation answer. "Well, yeah, I guess …"
As towering leaded glass came into view on the horizon, there was a small pause.
It was broken by the brunette, "So how the hell did you wind up losing your virginity to the Joker?" she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Very easily …
Harley inwardly winced, as her insides clenched.
She really wished that the brunette had not known ... that fact.
That fact was the source of irritation the last few days. Originally it had been the reason as to why she was so conflicted, but now it was the source of constant irritation.
Physically and mentally.
Like popping a cork on a heavily backed up dam, it seemed that all the pent up sexual frustration over the last twenty seven years of her life just came spilling out. And it spilled out into that drug and alcohol fueled romp that left Harley both ecstatic and ashamed. Harley didn't remember ever stopping to think over the past few days. All her common sense went out the window and was replaced with pure instinct.
The instinctual side of herself that saw the Joker as the delicious piece of forbidden rotten fruit he was, and indulged on it until she was thoroughly, completely sick.
Yeah, they f**ked like bunnies.
Sloshed bunnies.
Harley's insides were still sore, and she had to admit that her muscles were still spasming every now and then. The feeling of elation in her post-coital bliss was overwhelmed by the sickening hollowness in her belly of humiliation and shame.
You got kidnapped by a rival gang boss, and you proceed to bang him for approximately one business week.
Yeah, real professional.
Some crime boss she turned out to be.
So, when Harley pulled the car to a stop and the engine turned off, she put her head to the wheel in a very pathetic sob. "I don't know …" she whined.
Although she couldn't see the girl beside her, Harley heard her give out a concerned grumble. "Okay, okay," she relinquished. "I won't ask anymore."
Harley didn't remove her head from the steering wheel. "Thank you," she muttered into the leather.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound disrupting the awkwardness was the patterning of the rain against the car roof and hood. The teenager finally made an odd clicking sound with her lips, almost like a hiss of pain.
"So … how was it?"
The blonde only turned her head, keeping it against the wheel as she looked at her. "Huh?"
Blinking with curiosity, the younger female actually looked amused. "The sex. How was it?"
Wonderful.
Awful.
Wonderfully awful.
"Great …" Harley finally whined as she sat up straight, exaggeratedly rubbing her reddened cheeks.
"Well, after five days without protection, I would hope it felt good," the brunette laughed, reaching into the back seat to retrieve Harley's bag. She took out the ominous package that she had purchased for the blonde before stuffing it into her own bag. "You do know that you'll have to wait a few days to take these things right?"
Harley nodded. "I'm aware."
"You know, the chances of you conceiving after all that activity is … really slim," the girl added as she pulled the bag over her shoulder.
That's what we're counting on …
"I just wanted to be sure."
"I know it's rather late for this, but couldn't you have just taken that morning after pill?"
Harley paused, her eyes widening.
Why didn't we think of that?
"Or are you seriously considering keeping the Joker's baby?"
Harley groaned. Why did she have to word it that way? She had been trying to avoid that word—forbidding it from her mind. The topic was simply something that she really, really did not even want to consider for her future.
A crime boss on the government's leash with the most notorious gang leader in the city as her baby daddy?
For some odd reason, the thought of a little ball of life forming inside of her made her almost sick to her stomach.
Which is why you promptly shot that asshole!
She didn't even know the clown for a full week, and now there was a possibility of never getting rid of him.
And how exactly did that stop you from f**king him?
If you talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk …
SHUT. THE. HELL. UP!
Harley did not have the patience for the voices in her head at that moment.
It had already been a very eventful morning.
Instead of answering the girl's question, Harley gasped the door handle. "Can we discuss this after I take the dumb test?"
Her companion stopped grinning, but nodded her reply. As Harley walked out into the rain and closed the door, she came around to the other side and gave her masked companion the keys. As they climbed the stairs towards the towering glass structure, Harley hugged her coat closer to herself against the cold.
Despite the place being a greenhouse, it always seemed colder the closer Harley got to it.
"Why are we here, again?" Harley finally asked, keeping pace with the younger girl as they walked over the cobblestone. "I really don't want to have to talk to Ivy."
The younger girl's tone became serious again.
"You just escaped from the Joker, and you are potentially carrying his kid," she said incredulously. "Not to mention you torched his car and threw it in the bay."
And we blew up half his house …
"The last thing we need is you going home," she said as they came up to the door. "We can't afford to let him find you there."
Oh yeah, good point.
At the top of a dais of steps was the dauntingly tall pair of doors. The twisted steel bars were highlighted by the jade glass, however it still had the aura of a cage for a bird than anything else. The only thing preventing anyone from potentially breaking the glass and opening the door were all the terribly large plants that emerged from the ground and surrounded the passageway like police tape.
As the two approached, the thick vines came to life and began to hover around them menacingly, daring them to touch the door.
Instead of going over to the door, the younger girl went over to the engraved steel sign that read "Beaudelaire's Greenhouse" in bold italic vines for words, and swung it open on a set of hidden hinges like a door. The contraption underneath looked like something out of the Edwardian era, with more mechanical pieces than electrical ones. She pressed the button next to the round grate, and a dull ring was heard in the background.
Holding down the button, the younger girl spoke gently into the grate, "Ivy, I know you can't come out, but could you let us in?"
There was a pause for several moments, and Harley took the time to look around. It was then that she noticed something strange about the scene; something had been added.
A few somethings had been added.
The ground was littered with a great deal of flowers, all individually cut and wrapped with ribbon. There had to be dozens of them. They had obviously been left there on purpose, each bunch stacked on top of one another. The closer the bunches were to the door, the more they were withered and rotted. The newer bunches that were farther away were actually identifiable.
How strange …
Why was someone leaving flowers for Ivy?
And why was Ivy just letting them out there to rot away?
Is she sick or something?
Harley recognized many of them; she hadn't been a friend of Ivy's for as long as she was for nothing.
The bunches were sectioned in two ways, either a singular flower, or a few bunched together. Although, in the bunches of several, each flower was a diferent bloom. The older ones that she could identify were by themselves. The round indigo one was a morning glory, and then the almost furry looking red one was a gillyflower. Some pure white Indian jasmine, and even a dwarf sunflower. A purple heliotrope, a pink peony, and even yellow tulip. Those were almost all gone from rot.
The newer ones were in clusters. There were peach blossoms paired together with yellow chrysanthemums, as well as a few pink carnations clustered with white camellias and a bright yellow jonquil. There were lots of citron flowers, as well as primroses. There were even a few flowers that she noticed were more prominent, but that was because they were black; she'd have to look that one up later.
Absently, Harley had a sinking feeling.
This seemed a little too odd.
Then, Harley thought about what her companion had said. "Why can't she come out?" she suddenly asked with concern.
Her question was left unanswered as the receiver grumbled a response to the first question.
"Helena?" came the surprised yet seductive voice of Poison Ivy. "Is that you?"
The girl in question smiled. "Huntress right now, Ivy," she corrected. "Got Harley with me."
There was a pause from the grumbling of the mechanics in the device. "Oh good, you found her."
Wait, Ivy knew she was missing too?
Helena glanced over to the older woman with a meek smile. "I asked around when I realized you were missing," she whispered so the third party couldn't hear. She then turned into the receiver again. "Yeah, she actually found me—which is why we need you to let us in, okay?"
All that was heard was static for a few seconds, and there was no response from the mistress of nature.
Finally, Helena spoke up again. "She needs to hide here for a few days, Ivy," she said with an interesting tone in her voice. " … Harley's gotten herself in serious trouble. I wouldn't ask, but we really have no where else to go."
"Who else knows you two are here?"
"No one."
There was a sigh from the other end. "Okay, come in."
Helena smiled. "Thank you so much Ivy."
As Huntress shut the panel back onto the receiver, the plants wrapped around the door paused in movement for a few seconds. There was a noise from inside, that sounded like the russling of leaves and branches, before the vines virtually relaxed and peeled off to doors.
Harley brow raised.
Helena didn't answer her—Harley had the feeling that there was something going on; there was a secret looming about and Harley was not in the loop.
How rude.
Like you're reliable to keep secrets?
Touche.
"Is there something going on?" Harley finally asked.
Helena paused, not looking at the blonde as she grasped the door handle. "Let's just say, there's more than one reason I changed."
What the hell does that mean?
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"For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands." – Christina Rossetti
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"Why are you crying?"
Hiccup!
Sob.
"… I'm not crying."
Silence.
"Yes you are."
"Ivy! Leave her alone."
"I was just trying to see if she was all right. She won't come out of the closet."
Pause.
Hiccup!
"You know, you can't stay in there all day."
"… yes I can!"
"Ivy …"
Smile.
"She's such a tiny little thing …"
"She can also hear you."
"Go away!"
"We don't get a sister every day, Cat … and she's been in there for two days. I'm sure she's really hungry."
Sigh.
"Hey there … look, we'll go away, but can you at least tell us that you're all right?"
Sob.
" … not okay."
"Not okay? Awe, why not?"
Hiccup!
Sob.
"They killed my mama …"
Long pause.
"What? … who?"
"Yeah, who killed your mom?"
Sob.
"Those scary people."
Pause.
Silence.
Hiccup!
Pause.
"Won't you come out? I'm sure you're really thirsty after all that crying."
Silence.
"Why won't you come out, hm?"
" … you won't call me names?"
Sigh.
"Why would we call you names?"
"Yeah, we won't do that."
Pause.
Click.
Creak …
Gasp.
"No, wait! Come back, we promise not to call you names."
Laugh.
"Your hair is so pretty! It's the color of calla lilies!"
" … what are calla lilies?"
Huff.
"Ignore her—she's always talking about thost dumb plants."
Glare.
Blink.
"You don't think I look funny?"
Pause.
"No, not at all. You're so pretty—why would you ever think that you look funny?"
"... really?"
"She wouldn't lie about that … I wouldn't either."
Sniffle.
"Thank you."
"What's your name?"
Silence.
"My name is Pamela, but I like it when people call me Ivy. This here is Selina."
"They call me Cat."
"So what's your name?"
"… Harleen."
"Hello Harleen. How old are you?"
"... six and a half."
"I'm eight. Cat is the eldest—she's eleven."
Silence.
"Are you still going to stay in there? Aren't you lonely in there all by yourself?"
Silence.
"Okay, if you wanna stay there, it's fine. But we'll both be out here when you come out, all right?"
"… okay …"
Silence.
"… thank you …"
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"It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." – Ralph Waldo Emerson
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It was a good thing that Harley had been to Beaudelaire's before.
Because the average person would not be able to handle it.
Although there was a definite path sprawled out in the jungle of vines and plants inside the steel and glass structure, it did not detract from the clausterphobic sensation that emerged from each leave and pod that surrounded them.
The two figures walked in through the doors, the vines closing up the doorway behind them as they walked through the large foyer, an almost four-way intersection of halls. However, they did not take the right or left hall, and proceeded forward down the metal walkway in front of them. They hovered above a large valley of more greenery, the metal structure becoming more herbacious that anything else. Harley was just grateful that her stilletos didn't fall down into the spaces between the grates.
As they emerged into the larger space, the darkness of the space around them was slowly cleared by the gray light that filtered in throught the decorative glass ceiling. The large space that was used as a main living area was incredibly open, the only thing breaking up the space were the steel pillars sprawled out caculatively to support the tremendously heavy glass ceiling.
Despite the fact that it was a greenhouse, it was rather chilly inside.
Was it always this cold in here?
I don't think it was …
It was warmer in here when we were here in winter …
Harley noticed how her shoes clanged against the metal as she walked down the spiral steps, holding herself. "Are you cold too?" she asked.
Helena only glanced over to her. "Try not to bring that up," was the only thing she advised.
"Why not?"
She did not get an answer.
Instead, Helena walked forward through the vines and proceeded to call out, "Ivy!"
There was a few clanging noises coming from a distance in front of them, followed by a crash. There was a muttered curse, before a reply. "Back here!"
Finally honing in on their hostess's location, they rounded the corner as they went into a small annex towards the back.
The first thing Harley noticed was the smoke.
It was coming from all the glass containers sitting on top of bunson burners. There were enough glass beakers, twisted tubes and bubbling substances to make any evil genius jealous. The table of ancient chemistry tools were displayed ever so lovely on the marble table that was held up with legs of living plants. The greens that carpeted the floor created a good cushioning against the cement that was underneath.
At first, it was impossible to see if there was actually anyone in the room, seeing as the glass tower of beakers created a wall.
However, a voice from the other side emerged.
"So, what happened this time?" came the sultry voice of the one known as Poison Ivy.
The redheaded plant mistress emerged from the other side of the table holding a container of purple chemicals in her hand.
Her radiantly kelly green skin was shown off in large quantities from the fact that her shoulders and arms were completely bare. The intricate ivy shapes that had been carved into her skin with a blade only seemed to make her even more radiant, the leaves peppering all over her angular cheeks, long neck and ample chest. The green leather Victorian corset that was fastened so tightly around her hourglass shape only made her large breasts seem more prominent, the appendages practically spilling over the lace ruffles around the top.
The largest piece of cloth on the plant mistress's form was the prominent silk and lace bussle that was secured with a belt around her waist, the skirt fanning out to drag along the floor. The skirt itself was completely open in the front, acting more like a cape for her lower body than anything else. As Ivy took a step forward, she padded across the floor with delicate bare feet, the leaf pattern winding all the way down her body. Her long legs were revealed for the whole world to see, as the only thing she was wearing beneath the corset was a tiny pair of ruffled bloomers, extra lace adorning her around the rear.
Her bright green eyes were shimmering from beneath a pair of lenses attached to the tiny green top hat positioned sophisticatedly on her head. Lace fanned out like feathers to amplify he large coiffure of hair at the back of her skull. Her almost magenta-colored pieces of loose hair came down in ringlets cascaded over her shoulders.
A pair of luscious green lips curved in a very muted yet sincere smile. "Hello Helena," she greeted, then nodded to the blonde. "Harley."
Harley beamed and spread her arms wide to tackle her friend in a hug. "Pammy!" she exclaimed.
The green-skinned woman barely had enough time to put down the chemicals in her hand before Harley bombarted her with a squeeze. Despite the fact that Ivy was older, Harley was slightly taller, even more so that she was wearing heels, and almost smothered her.
Ivy let out a grunt of surprise when the air was pushed out of her. "It's good to see you too, Harley," she said, pulling the blonde away from her. She cupped her face as if to inspect it. "You look well."
Harley bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.
It's been too long since we've seen her.
"So do you," Harley beamed in excitement. "You look so well—you're boobs are huge!"
Indeed, they were bigger than the last time they spoke in person.
They were smaller than yours last time.
Now they're bigger …
Without any hesitation, Harley grabbed at the front of Ivy's corset for a brief few seconds and squeezed teasingly at the luscious orbs attached to her chest. Ivy blushed at this comment, and she attempted to open her mouth to speak, but Harley just pulled her hands away almost as fast as they'd descended.
"But other than that, you look good," Harley continued. "Why don't you ever come by anymore? I know you're into that off-the-grid thing, but I sent you a good number of letters!"
Ivy smiled almost apologetically, glancing over Harley's shoulder to Helena for a brief second before looking back at her. "I know, I got them," she responded. "I have to apologize for not responding—I have been very busy."
Harley finally released the older woman and looked at the toys that littered the table. "Oh, any big projects?" she inquired, picking up a flask to inhale.
At the perfumed liquid that hit her nose, Harley winced.
Obviously another one of her weapons of mass distruction …
Ivy only shrugged. "Nothing in particular …" she commented.
The redhead raised the lenses from her eyes, resting them on the brim of her hat as she turned to Helena who was standing in the corner. "What's going on? What's this about hiding?"
Huntress let out a sigh. She placed her bag over her neck to fasten it across her body, before she went over to the bare table over to the side and hopped up on it. "Sorry—I couldn't call you," she responded. "This was something that I couldn't say over the phone."
Harley blinked. "You have a phone, Pammy?"
This was news.
If she would have known that, she wouldn't have bothered with those dumb flower shops.
Ivy's brow wrinkled as she looked over to the blonde, completely ignoring the blonde's question. "Does this have anything to do with why you were missing for the last few days?"
Whoa, deja vu.
Harley shrugged. "Who says I was—?"
"I told her," Helena cut off promptly. Harley turned around and pouted a frown at her. "You really think I wouldn't tell Ivy you were missing?"
One can hope …
Harley grinned nervously at her old friend when she felt the redhead's eyes on her. "I was … busy …?"
"After being kidnapped by the Joker?" Ivy inquired in disbelief.
Oh great, she knows that too …
Harley began playing with a loose piece of hair hanging around her face. "Well …"
"Oh, just tell her already!" Helena snapped. "She needs to know why you'll be staying here for a few days."
Ivy crossed her hands over her chest, tone serious. "What happened?"
"Uh … ?"
"Were you the one responsible for that explosion this morning?"
Uh-oh …
Harley winced, biting her lip.
However, the teenager in the corner was the one who responded to this. "Explosion?"
Ivy closed her eyes tightly as she rubbed them, going over to a cabinet made of vines. She retrieved one of the only eletronic devices that she owned, a tablet with a green case, and turned it on.
"I was attempting to find information on you today," she said, using her long fingers to touch buttons as she scanned through the pictures.
She padded over to the blonde and handed her the screen. It was a picture of the Gotham skyline, only there was a small mushroom cloud in the corner. And Harley knew for a fact that it was coming from the industrial section.
And not because she'd made the explosion either.
"I found this after some digging—the police are trying to cover it up," Ivy continued. "I assumed that our "employer" was involved, but …"
Do we want to know the rest?
" … I remembered that the industrial section was Joker's territory—and Helena said he kidnapped you."
Shit.
Helena whipped her head in the blonde's direction. "You … did … not!"
The blonde did her best to smile. "Well, I may have …"
"So you were responsible for the explosion?" Ivy deduced. "What the hell did you blow up?"
"She blew up the Joker's hideout," Helena told her, even though she hadn't been told that.
Smart little cookie …
Why did we encourage her to read?
Harley twiddled her thumbs absently. "Only the garage …" she muttered.
Ivy's eyes were wide with horror and shock. "You—what?" Turning to the blonde, she looked almost like her eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets. "Tell me you didn't."
"And she torched his Lamborghini and sent it sleeping with the fishes," Helena added, arms crossed over her chest.
"The news said that was those bikers—"
"A good cover, but not that good," the teenager cut off, cocking her head to the side. She jumped down off the table to come up to Harley's face. "But I'm pretty sure the owner knows who was driving it off his property."
Harley shrugged, trying to weasel herself away. "How else was I supposed to escape?"
"You could have called me—"
"Girls!" Ivy said, coming between the pair. She physically separated them, glancing between the two of them. "Could you please calm down? And before we do anything else, I need you to clarify something for me."
The two waited for Ivy to continue.
"Harley was kidnapped. By the Joker?"
"Yep."
"And this was … five days ago?"
"Ah-huh."
"But this morning, you escaped, blew up his hideout and then eighty-sixed his car?"
"That pretty much sums it up, yeah …"
"So the first thing you do after all this is come to me … to hide?" she asked in confusion. "For a few days?" She turned to look at Helena. The redhead seemed more worried than anything. "And this was your idea?"
Helena groaned, rubbing her temple. "I know this looks bad, Ivy, but I can assure you he has no idea where she is," she admitted, referring to the blonde. "I really had no other choice—and besides, we really need to hide her for a few days."
Ivy glanced over to the blonde again, as Helena started going through the bag around her shoulders. "Why a few days?" she asked.
With the rustling of paper, Helena revealed the rectangular package to Ivy. Harley felt her stomach twist as her old friend's eyes widened. "She has to take this."
Ivy's expression was one that Harley had never seen before. It was a mix of horror, surprise, terror, and just plain old exhaustion.
Oh great, now she knows …
I really don't want to hear this one …
For several moments, there was an awkward silence as Ivy stared at the tiny rectangular package in Helena's hands.
Ivy has left the building ….
Harley waved her hands in front of the redhead's eyes. "Pammy …?"
Then the strangest thing disrupted the silence.
It was a sound that Harley had never heard before, almost like the jangling of metal and glass. It was followed with a low series of chimes, almost like a wind chime without the wind.
Ivy blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
The redhead snapped back into the present and looked to Helena. "You're serious?"
Huntress nodded.
Wait, shouldn't she be asking you that?
"It's not for sure, though?" Ivy continued.
Another nod. "But a definite possibility."
As the chimes in the background continued, Ivy glanced to the door nervously, before back to the pair in front of her. "I guess this place is as good as any," she concluded, looking deflated.
"Then she can stay?" Helena asked hopefully.
Ivy nodded, glancing towards the chimes again. "It's about time Harley knows anyway," she said, biting her lip.
Knows what?
Before Harley could look to Ivy for a reply, the redhead began walking away. Although Harley just stood there, as soon as Helena started following, she did as well. As Ivy went further into he greenhouse, Harley noticed that it was getting chillier. They finally approached what looked like a wall of vines, that parted like the Red Sea when Ivy touched them.
As the plant mistress entered the secret room, concealed to the outside world, Harley noticed that the noise was coming from inside. When Ivy entered, the noise stopped.
The vines closed on the women once they entered, and when they did, Harley had to pause for a moment.
Immediately, Harley noticed the scent of lavender and vanilla in the room. Ivy went over to the piece of furniture in the corner, formed and shaped completely out of wood and vines. She leaned over it and retrieved something, turning around as she adjusted the form in her arms.
So that's what Leni meant earlier …
The baby must have been one of the most adorable things Harley had ever seen. Only a few months old, at the most, she was swaddled in light pink. Her luscious startlingly blue curls were decorated with matching pink ribbons. Her pudgy little limbs were covered with pale green skin that was almost white. She let out a large toothless laugh, as Ivy rocked her gently.
As Harley circled around, she could see that the baby's eyes were as brightly blue as her hair.
Harley glanced at Helena incredulously. Huntress looked completely unfazed; she had known all along.
This would also explain why her boobs are so big …
Ivy looked up to Harley with a shy smile. "This is Flora," she said simply. She smiled at the baby in her arms and spoke to her with a cooed tone. "Flora, my little blossom, this is Aunt Harley."
There was only one thing that Harley could say, "Where's Daddy?"
Harley was answered by a large crash coming from the entrance of the greenhouse. All three of them looked up with a start.
Ivy frowned. "That … might be him …"
HxJ
JxH
(Author's Note; Brownie points to anyone who can figure out who Flora's daddy is!
I would like to know what you think of Ivy's style. When I was developing this story, I realized I liked how stylized Harley is (and everyone in the SS universe) and I wanted to do the same with her. If you did not pick up on it, I gave Ivy a steampunk style. I plan on giving all of my characters their own unique clothing styles, because they are just so much more interesting that way.
I tried giving our darling Huntress a vintage goth style. I'm so disappointed not too many people guessed that-maybe I left her a little more vague than I originally thought. For those of you who guessed correctly though, congratulations!
Your assignments for this week; Along with the identity of Flora's daddy, I wish to hear suggestions for the clothing styles of Gotham's Rogue's gallery. I already have a few in mind (because I will be bringing up other villains) but I would like to hear your suggestions.
Once again, thank you for reading. Please review!)