"Master Bruce." Alfred cleared his throat. "May I ask what you're doing down here at this ungodly hour? Shouldn't you be…out?"
"She has a 7% chance of defeating Cheetah, a 12% chance of beating Ivy, a 13% chance against Bane, and a 54% likelihood of killing Harley." Batman read off the probabilities he'd calculated from his position at the smaller computer monitor in the Batcave.
"Are we discussing Ms. Kyle?" Alfred inquired, setting the tray of food he was carrying down on the desk.
"Yes." Bruce adjusted the formulas slightly in the hopes of getting a different result. "Clark would have never put Lois in there…"
"To be fair, Master Bruce, Ms. Lane didn't have a million-dollar fortune as a result of thievery and black market sales." Alfred reminded him.
Bruce turned the chair to face his butler. "Pamela Isley, body count easily over 300. Harleen Quinzel, over 50 directly, a thousand more when in conjunction with Joker's crimes. Bane's in the same boat and Cheetah is Wonder Woman's most insistent adversary. I'd hardly say that Selina belongs with that crowd. Thief or not."
"Seems to me it's the system that's flawed, Master Wayne, not the players." Alfred argued. "The whole practice makes it seem as if we're living in some dystopian nightmare." He turned to leave Bruce to his thoughts. "And as far as your formulas, I'd say she has closer to a 5% chance of defeating Cheetah." He called over his shoulder.
/
Selina watched as Ivy began to carve out the 8th apple. It was supposed to be Harley's job, but it was evidently taking her longer than expected to quench her thirst. Ivy insisted that it was better this way because she could do it quicker and more efficiently, but Selina knew she had about 1000 other things to do. Selina herself would have pitched in, but they only had one carving instrument and under no circumstances would Ivy let her move onto the next step in the process which was filling the receptacles with the mixture of toxins she'd created using the water and her own blood.
Catwoman studied the emerald woman closely, impressed with the look of complete concentration on her face despite the fact that Harley was still gone. It was curious sometimes, thinking of Ivy as a scientist rather than a supervillain. She supposed the two went hand in hand, but she also knew that Pamela had been a scientist long before she was Poison Ivy, same as Selina was a thief. Now they were nationally recognized villains- a grotesque sort of celebrity that normal citizens used as representations of a walk on the wild side. Selina fleetingly wondered how Gotham Sirens related merchandise would sell after she, Ivy and Harley's untimely deaths. Selina remembered how mortified she'd been the first time she spotted a stuffed animal in Catwoman's likeness. Not long after, she was browsing the television channels late at night and happened upon a pornographic film entitled "Poison Knights" in which a far less attractive Poison Ivy was "punished" by a much less muscular Batman for her "cruel, horrible, dirty deeds." Catwoman had never been so turned off in her life. However, it did offer some perspective for how much worse her stuffed animal could have been.
Being a costumed villain meant learning to live with the caricatures that people assigned you. Ivy was, of course, the amoral temptress and sex-fiend who pranced around in her revealing leotard in an offering to every man in town, hoping to find the one that could fuck the evil out of her. She wouldn't like it, but she'd take that cock in spite of herself. Catwoman spat, prompting a raised eyebrow from the actual Ivy who sat across the room from her. The real Pamela Isley was a literal genius- her intellect at times too vast for her own good. She was poised, graceful, elegant and maternal. Oh, and not to mention a lesbian. One who certainly wouldn't be scared straight anytime soon.
Selina's Catwoman was more often than not portrayed as some love-sick kitten, robbing jewelry stores solely for the purpose of attracting Batman's attention. In reality, though, Catwoman had planned and executed more elaborate heists than any thief in the country. She was a brilliant strategist and had likely stolen more rare treasures than the majority of people even knew were housed in their cities. She and Batman had a mutual respect that stemmed from the heartbreak of their, at times, similar upbringings and an admiration for each other's physical and mental prowess. She certainly wasn't desperate for Bruce's attention. She got it when she wanted it and left it alone otherwise, just like he did for her.
Harley liked being abused by The Joker, according to those most unqualified to speak on the matter. And what extraordinary bullshit that was. Harley stayed with him in spite of the physical abuse, not because of it. At the beginning, she had obviously assumed she could fix The Joker. She saw a broken psyche and thought that she could somehow make him whole again. But Joker was sicker than she could have ever expected and had broken her before she even had a chance to realize she was slipping. Once a promising young psychiatrist, she was reduced to Joker's personal punching bag. So now she was- evidently- some sexual sadist who liked being abused as much as she liked holding up banks or serving as Joker's getaway driver.
That's what everyone at home would be thinking as they watched the three women march to their deaths. Well that and "do you think they've ever had a three-way?"
"Honestly, Selina. What are you scowling about?" Ivy asked as she began to carefully pour the water into the open top of the apple, followed by a few drops of her blood. The heat was clearly getting to her now as she tried to wipe the red hair that was stuck to her forehead away from her eyes. The forehead in question was beaded with sweat and the rest of her appeared generally damp.
"Nothing." Selina grumbled. "It's just hot and I'm done with all this bullshit already."
"Perhaps you should have gone with Harley." Ivy suggested as she smoothed two thin leaves around the lip of the apple's opening, replacing the top of the fruit and pressing it down to secure it onto the sappy leaves she'd just placed there. One down, 15 to go.
"Not dressed like this, I shouldn't have." Selina was referring to the covering of vines that slithered around her form. "Remind me how you're going to get all those bodily fluids out of my suit?"
"Firstly, please don't ever say 'bodily fluids' again." Ivy implored as she began constructing the next weaponized apple. "I'm going to wring it out, to answer your question." Selina gagged. "Oh, stop it." Ivy waved her off. "No need to be childish."
"You know…" Catwoman began as she finally heard Harley grabbing onto the vine below them. "The grossest part of this whole thing is that you don't even stink. You look like shit, but you don't smell like it. Is that another one of your superpowers?"
"I paid a rather significant price, Cat. Just remember that." Ivy's expression, which had brightened slightly upon Harley's return, quickly fell as she saw the jester's drooping frown. "What's wrong?" She asked.
"Look, Red…I'm real sorry, OK? I swear I didn't mean ta." Harley's words spilled forth quickly.
Although Ivy had begun the exchange with concern, she was quickly shifting to suspicion. "What happened?"
"I…uh…" Harley faltered when she saw that Selina was equally unamused. "I was runnin' back cuz I missed ya so much and I…uh…I tripped and…" She gulped.
"And?" Selina prompted.
"I lost the spile." Harley finally admitted.
"You what?" Catwoman shot up. "Harley! That was our only access to water!"
Ivy just closed her eyes in a reaction that Catwoman was all too familiar with. Ivy would attempt to reel in her temper by shutting out the world and taking deep breaths, but it usually ended in her blowing up just the same. "Harley…" she started, her hands clamping down on her thighs. "You're kidding, right? This is just a stupid joke?"
"Umm…nuh uh, Red." Harley was shaking her head even though Ivy couldn't see. "I tripped and I lost it in a bush. I'm so so sorry." The blonde wisely kept her distance from the other woman. "Are ya…are ya mad at me cuz I messed up? Gah! I'm such a screw up, ain't I? That's what Mistah J says too. I guess I'm just a no good, good for nothing…"
"Don't say that, Harley." The frustration was still evident in Ivy's body language, but her tone was even.
"Wait a minute, Pam. She may have just killed herself and me." Selina argued. "Are you seriously just letting her off the hook?"
"We were headed to the lake anyway." Ivy reminded her.
"I didn't mean it, Kitty. Honest!" Harley piggy backed.
Catwoman pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know you didn't mean it, Harley, but in this heat we're going to need a lot more water than usual."
"Then maybe we should leave soona." Harley suggested. "How bout' we leave tanight instead?"
"Because Ivy hasn't finished with the preparations!" Catwoman was exasperated.
"Well I bet if we help, it'll make everything go a lot fasta. Whaddya say, Red?" She plopped down next to Ivy and danced her fingers up the arm of the black latex suit.
"I say that neither of you are chemists." Ivy told her bluntly, batting her hand away.
"I went ta med school and Kitty's got sneaky fingers from all the stealin' she does. We got this, Red. Don't you worry." She smiled earnestly and Ivy had no choice but to oblige given the predicament the jester had put them in.