Harley stayed at the cottage for another day, sitting in an armchair in the living room, staring intently out the window. She'd been doing that for most of the morning when Ivy suddenly appeared beside her.
"Harley?"
Harley stirred herself and looked up. Ivy was regarding Harley with aloof curiosity. Harley smiled and said, "Hey, Red."
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking," she said, and gestured at the chair alongside. "Join me?"
Slowly, almost tenatively, Ivy sat down, and looked out on the close-grouped pines, which were still heavily adorned with frost.
"Pretty," Harley said distantly. "Like Christmas."
"Beautiful," said Ivy, softly.
"Hey, whatever happened to all your plants?"
"They're safe in our – at the usual place," Ivy said, "I set the greenhouse up to be self-sustaining. They can manage a while longer without me."
"Good."
Silence fell once again. Although Harley longed to fill it, she wanted everything she did or said to mean something right now.
"You know," she said slowly, "This Benefit thing, we'll have lots of gorgeous Christmas trees."
Ivy turned blazing eyes on her and Harley smirked, "And I made sure we got artificial ones."
For one, precious instant, Harley thought she saw that old tenderness behind Ivy's eyes. Then she turned away and said, "Good."
Ivy was sitting stiffly, her hands resting flatly on the armrests. Harley had a deep-seated desire to reach out and take that hand, but she forebore. She could tell, with a clarity she'd never felt before, that Ivy wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
"You know something, Ivy," Harley said, "All the time we've known each other, I never asked you what kind of music you like."
Ivy was silent a moment, then shrugged and said, "I don't really know. When I was younger my family used to listen to music on the radio. I used to…"
"Yeah," Harley prompted, trying not to sound too eager.
"I used to enjoy music you could dance to," Ivy finished, almost in a whisper.
Harley beamed, "Swing music? That kind of thing?"
Ivy shrugged, "Yeah, sure."
"We've got a lot of that optioned for the Benefit, actually."
"Too bad I won't be there."
Harley's heart didn't break, but it definitely dented.
"I wish you could be there, you know."
Ivy said nothing, didn't even look at her, and she said, "Look, Red, I'm not going to be here forever. I've got to be back in Gotham and back to work soon. If…if this has got to be goodbye, I don't want it to be like this."
Harley saw Ivy's hands ball up again and her head lowered, her hair failling across her face, and her hands started to shake.
Harley couldn't bear it anymore. She reached out and took Ivy's hand. "Ivy," Harley pleaded, "Please, talk to me!"
"Why," Ivy snapped, suddenly sitting up, her hair whipping back behind her. "What do you want me to say?"
"Tell me what I need to do to get you to just look at me! I've thought about you every day since I left Arkham. I have missed you so much and now you're giving me the cold shoulder?"
"I already told you," Ivy began.
"But Red…" Harley's voice whined a little, she heard it. But she wasn't expected Ivy to spring to her feet and shout, "Don't do that, Harley! I've fallen for your whinging and pleading a hundred times! Not again! Nothing ever changes. I always fall for it and you always turn your back on me!"
Harley gasped out, "And I told you it was an accident and I am not going to go back to him!"
"Then why were you talking to him on the phone?"
Harley's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. Ivy's face was cold and exultant. "Mister J? Puddin'?" She mocked Harley in a sing-song parody of her voice.
Harley sprang to her feet, "No, Red, it's not like that, I…"
"Don't!" Ivy held up a hand. "Even if I believed you, what difference does it make? What does it matter?"
"It matters," Harley said, starting to get frustrated, "because it's you and me, Ivy. We were…together for two years."
"Some of the time," Ivy muttered.
Harley persisted, "You can't tell me that didn't mean anything!"
"Can't I?"
"No, because I know better!" Harley's voice had lost any pleading or whine. She was upset now, "I remember how you used to look at me, Pammie. I…" She was going to elaborate but she saw Selina looking in from the kitchen and changed to, "We had something, you and I. And I thought…I thought…"
"You thought what," Ivy demanded, "That we'd be best friends forever? That you'd be able to dance on the edge of the law? We already know how well that works!"
"I thought," Harley said, her voice cracking, "I thought you loved me!"
Ivy stared at Harley, he mouth half-open. When she spoke again, it was in a hoarse whisper, "You burned me out, Harl. Back to the Joker, time and again, forgetting everything I taught you as soon as he smiled at you. Now you've boxed yourself in again. If not to him, then into some rich fat cat's degrading system of charity." She made a curse out of the word.
Harley found herself bristling at that, "I'm being successful, Ivy! I'm doing something with my life! I've finally got that good old female self-esteem you taught me! Does it only count if I'm happy stealing and hurting people, being an empty-headed arm candy or your bed bunny?"
Selina gave a little cry as Ivy slapped Harley hard across the face. She staggered back a few steps, staring at the red-head, who was snarling at her, shoulders hunched like a wild thing.
Harley just stood, slack-jawed, tears of pain and rage and sorrow rising in her eyes, and she said, in a very small voice, "I guess I really was just a project to you, wasn't I, Red? See, if I was a person to you, you'd have kept the promise you made after the bonsai heist."
Selina strode into the space between them, her expression like stormclouds and said, "Harley, let's go. I'll take you back to your place, okay?"
Harley was still looking at Ivy, whose eyes were slowly widening, her snarling mouth falling open into a gape of horror.
Harley whispered, "Okay," and headed for the door.