The wind blowing across the docks caught Ivy's hair and lifted it around her head. It was a cold night, but she didn't feel it – her focus was entirely on the reason she was there, which was the person allegedly hiding inside the building she now faced. She'd spent the day, and most of the night, hunting down Harley. She'd questioned any of Joker's thugs stupid enough to get in her way, and finally tracked her down. With a determined expression, she walked towards the boathouse, past enormous shipping crates and heavy machinery, flexing her fingers. The supply of vines she'd brought with her encircled her upper arms and trailed down towards her hands, ready to defend her just in case the boathouse wasn't as empty as it seemed.
With a crash, Ivy slammed open the front door and was faced with almost impenetrable darkness. She narrowed her eyes. "Harley? Come out." Nothing happened. "Don't make me ask again."
"Ya didn't ask, Red." There was a scuffle off to one side and a light flicked on, revealing Harley standing in a doorway nearby. She was back in her traditional costume, looking both nervous and pissed off. "Whaddaya want?"
"I want to talk to you." Wisely, Ivy stayed where she was, knowing that if she started advancing on Harley now, she'd lose her again. She was fast, and her vines were faster, but Harley knew all her tricks. It was why it had taken her so long to find her. She slowly raised her arms in a position of surrender, and her vines retreated up into her hair and down her back, out of sight. "Can I…come in?" She nodded through the door at the room behind Harley.
Harley cocked her head to one side, scrunching up her mouth in thought. "Fine. Step into my office, Dr Isley." She moved aside and swept her arms across her body in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. Ivy didn't say anything, but followed her in. She neglected to shut the door behind her.
Standing by an abandoned desk topped with an ancient computer, Ivy slowly looked her friend over. The bruises were completely covered by Harley's costume and thick white makeup, but Ivy suspected they were still there – she was wincing as she moved, lacking her usual easy grace. Mentally putting another black mark in the Joker's column, she lifted herself up on the desk and sat cross-legged, absently playing with a slender vine that had slithered back out of her hair and wrapped itself between her fingers.
Harley stood opposite her, arms crossed. "Come on. What's this about? I ain't got all night."
Ivy sighed. "Okay, first of all…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't trust you to keep my secret. You are my friend, and I should have told you at least something. As it is, I'm really hoping you haven't told anybody about Eve in an attempt to get back at me." Her words were spoken gently, but the intense look in her bright green eyes revealed the true meaning behind what she said. "Did you?"
The seconds ticked by. Eventually, Harley shrugged her shoulders insouciantly. "Nah. Who would I tell? I ain't seen Mr J since Christmas, and no one else wants anythin' to do with me unless he's around to sweeten the deal." She leaned back against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself. "Way I see it, Red, we all gotta have somebody. And if I'd told anyone about your somebody, then people woulda wanted to hurt her. Then you'd wanna hurt me, and I don't wanna fight you. You're my best friend." Under the mask, her face broke into a wide smile, followed by a wince. "I'm still mad at ya for not tellin' me in the first place, though."
"You're right. I should have done." Ivy smiled briefly, then her face grew serious. "Listen, Harley, I didn't just come here to apologise to you. I came to tell you…I'm leaving Gotham. And Eve is coming with me."
Harley's eyes widened. "For real? You're just leavin'?" She crossed the room and sat on the desk next to Ivy, swinging her legs.
Ivy nodded. "It's not that big a deal – people leave Gotham all the time. I've just never been one of them, until now. Eve makes me want to do anything I can to keep her safe and happy, and if that means leaving this crazy place for somewhere better, where we can be together? I'll be the first to pack my bags and jump on a plane." She smiled again, properly this time, in a way that lit up her face. "I just…I want to be with her. Forever, if she'll have me. And I wanted you to be the first to know."
"Wow." Somewhere in Harley's mind, the ghost of a long-ago hope vanished with a shriek. Ivy had never been in love with her – what they'd had had been fun, and she'd always remember the time they'd had together, but she wasn't a prospect like that anymore. She felt surprisingly okay with the concept. "I've never seen ya like this, Red. Just make sure I get a weddin' invitation, yeah? I bet the flowers'll be amazin'."
They laughed, and hugged. "Harley, listen, I really am sorry," Ivy murmured as they embraced each other, careful of bruises. "I'm grateful, so grateful, that you kept our secret, but I should have trusted it to you in the first place. I just didn't want to jinx anything, which I realise is stupid."
"Hey, you're in love! You're allowed to be stupid sometimes," Harley said brightly. Ivy bit her tongue on a sarcastic comment, trying not to break their truce.
"Harley, before we leave, can you promise me something?"
"Sure, Red."
Ivy's tone grew serious. "Take a long, hard look at yourself, and your life. Think about doing what you want, not what everyone else wants. You deserve a happy Christmas, with someone who loves you for you, and you said it yourself – we've all got to have somebody." She squeezed Harley's hand and stood up. "Oh, and keep a plant nearby for me. I might want to check up on you sometimes."
Thoughtful blue eyes stared at her from behind a black domino mask, and Harley smirked, but the amusement didn't travel all the way up her face. "Sure thing, Red. See ya around."
Walking back across the docks, wooden planks creaking under her feet, Ivy felt a little bit better. At least she hadn't lost a friend, and her relationship with Eve was safe from the prying eyes and psychotic minds of Gotham's antagonists. And, well, she'd tried with Harley. Part of her still believed it to be a lost cause, but if her time with Eve had taught her anything, it was that love should be sweet and pure, not like what the Joker gave Harley – constant hints and titbits of love and kindness, just enough crumbs to get her to follow the trail to the gingerbread house. And he was the witch, waiting to cook her alive if she messed anything up. She shook her head, and hoped that at least some of her words had got through to her friend.
Ivy travelled back through Gotham with ease, shifting her skin tone and clothing to make her blend in better. There were very few people around given the lateness of the hour. Several shop windows were full of bright-red signs boasting January sales and huge discounts, and Ivy made a mental note to stay out of the centre of town in the morning – it would be far too busy.
She walked the familiar trail towards Robinson Park. That was one thing she'd miss about Gotham; it may be a city packed with overbearing skyscrapers and idiotic people, but the parks were lovely. She enjoyed communing with the trees and learning their stories, all the things they'd seen over decades of being part of the cityscape. It was fascinating.
The park was empty when she reached it, save for the wildlife. An owl hooted somewhere in the darkness. She wandered around, not needing her eyesight to know where she was going; the trees lining the paths and the grass under her feet could tell her. She reached her home, or what would be her home for a little while longer, and stepped between the trees into her haven. It was quiet and calm, muffling the sounds of the outside world, and she took a deep breath of floral-scented air, smiling slightly.
She thought about what she could do to pass the time. She missed Eve deeply, even though they'd only been apart for a day, but she'd told her she would leave her alone to deal with official things before they left. Tomorrow, Ivy planned to purchase plane tickets – she had money hidden away in a few accounts spread across various banks. The destination they'd decided on for their first journey didn't have much to it, but it would be serving as a stop-gap before they continued on and eventually found a place to settle. Ivy felt confident that she could look after Eve no matter where they were.
Her thoughts recalled what Harley had said earlier that night, about invitations and fabulous floral arrangements. She paused in her walk around the clearing, suddenly hit with the implications. Could she…well, why not? All she'd need to do was get some paperwork, and she'd done that before. Then she'd need to find the perfect ring – she would want everyone to know that her Evelyn was her Evelyn, nobody else's. Wherever they ended up, she would want Eve by her side, as her wife.
Wife. She liked how it sounded. This is my wife, Evelyn. Would she take Ivy's old name, be Evelyn Isley? It had a nice ring to it. She leaned back against a tree trunk, daydreaming about their life together.
Almost unconsciously, she closed her eyes and found herself sinking into the Green. She tried not to spend too much time in there at once – it could be draining – but now she was there, both within and observing the green tendrils that spanned the whole park and beyond, like threads on a tapestry or the web of a spider. Each thread led to a different plant, and each of them in turn had their own threads for each individual leaf, flower, and fruit. Ivy relaxed into a meditative state, and with her mind reached out to grasp one of the threads. She followed it, knowing where it led, and was rewarded when she felt the small, insignificant, barely-there presence of the long-forgotten mimosa pudica that still sat on Eve's bedside table in her apartment. She'd let it wither away, clinging to life, and gently Ivy coaxed it to health again. She felt its gratitude, then moved on to see if she could find Eve. She wanted to surprise her.
The plant was stuck on the table, no way of moving around without ruining the bedroom carpet, and Ivy didn't think Eve would appreciate that when she was trying to sweet-talk her landlord regarding the security deposit. So, she reached out mentally, probing the apartment from the safety of the Green, and she realised almost instantly that Eve wasn't sleeping in her bed.
Curious, Ivy pushed further, finding herbs on the kitchen windowsill, but travelling into them revealed Eve wasn't there either.
Back in the clearing at Robinson Park, Ivy's fists clenched as she continued her fruitless search.
In the living room, helped by the fern on the coffee table, she saw the comb on the carpet by the front door. It looked so innocent, just lying there, but Ivy knew something wasn't quite right. She deepened her connection with the fern, and asked if it knew anything.
A barrage of images assaulted her – Eve, ordering pizza. Walking around, fresh from the shower, in fluffy pyjamas. Answering the intercom. Combing her hair. The door opening, and a conversation, the words disjointed and warped. Eve falling. Eve being taken. The door closing on an empty apartment.
With lightning speed, Ivy retreated from the Green and back into herself. Acting on pure instinct, she called her plants to her, feeling the vines wrap themselves around her arms and legs, the leaves weaving into her hair. They heard her pain and shared it, their rage and fear adding to her own. They whispered to Ivy in her mind, and she spoke to them, short sharp thoughts that lasted mere milliseconds. She had never felt like this, like she was burning, filled with fury, and the plants recognised it for what it was.
Her eyes snapped open, and they burned with green fire.
Mother Nature was angry.