(The Following Chapter is Rated M for Mature for Violence, Ideological Controversy, and Sexual Themes)
"There has to be something! Some way of tracking him!" Hazel exclaimed as she rummaged through Eric's writing desk, while Pamela slowly stalked through the apartment, examining things, hunting for any clue as to who Eric was looking for.
"We'll never find anything if your idea of searching is to ransack every drawer and cupboard." Pamela said, stepping up behind Hazel and staying her hand as she reached for the next drawer handle.
The psychiatrist paused, then let out an exasperated sigh. "I know- I know, I'm sorry. I just... I don't want him to do something stupid, he could ruin his life, he could ruin your life!"
"He won't." Pamela replied soothingly, while gently rubbing the back of Hazel's palm.
"He will if he ends up kidnapping someone, or getting caught kidnapping someone, then tells the police he's doing it for you!"
The words hung in the air as Pamela gazed into her eyes. Birch was now keenly aware of what close proximity she had to her patient. The red head stood behind her, full breasts pressed to Hazel's back, her soft hand still resting on top of the doctor's own, her eyes like emerald pools so very close, staring intently back at Hazel.
"I'm curious Hazel... Who is it your more concerned for the welfare of, me, or Eric?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well..." Pamela said, while gently slid her hand along Hazel's hand, and then up along her forearm, gently taking hold of the doctor so she couldn't pull away. "If you really just wanted to stop him from making a foolish mistake you would have come to him right away, but instead you came to me. You brought me into the situation, you showed me the note, when it could be evidence against me, it could prove I actually was responsible for Eric's behavior."
"But you're not, I knew you weren't, I just—"
"Needed proof. You had to know I wasn't, it was important to you to know I wasn't responsible for his actions... Why?"
"I... I don't know."
"Don't know, or don't want to admit it?" Pamela asked, her left hand rising to stop Hazel as the Doctor tried to look away. "Tell me, Doctor. Why did you need to know? Is it because your reputation would be ruined if I turned out to have been using you all this time? Because you were worried I might be using Eric, and his life could be in danger? Or... Is it because you're the one whose actually obsessed with me?"
"D-don't be ridiculous. Our relationship is purely professional!" Dr. Birch stammered, her gaze wavering, trying to look anywhere except into Pamela's bright green eyes.
"No it's not." Isley said with a sly smile. "It never was. You're positively obsessed, doctor, you have been from long before we met."
"That's preposterous." Hazel replied, her eyes finally meeting Pamela's again, and suddenly finding herself unable to look away.
"Is it?" she cooed, looking down at the shorter woman, her deep red lips just inches away. "Think about it, Doctor. I'm your world. You devoted your entire doctoral thesis to me, to my diagnosis, my treatment, my psyche. I've been your obsession for years. I didn't even have to do anything, except to nurture the seeds you'd already planted in your own mind; to be the woman you believed me to be, to be the goddess you believed I could be. You worship me, Hazel, and you've been ever so faithfully helpful to me."
Hazel whimpered in denial, unable to bring herself to speak. She felt light headed, her mind a torrent of conflicting thoughts and emotions as she stared helplessly into her patient's vibrant green eyes. Green, it was such a beautiful color, so beautiful that, she could stare into those eyes for eternity.
"I still need your help, Hazel. You will help me, won't you?" Isley whispered, leaning so close her lips were almost touching her psychiatrist's.
"Of course I'll help you, helping you is all I've ever wanted to do!"
"I know," Ivy gushed, her voice filled with loving approval as she stroked Hazel's cheek gently, "and you have, you've been so helpful over all these long, arduous months. There's just a little more work to be done."
"I'll do it. I'll do anything!" Hazel whispered urgently, gazing up at Poison Ivy desperate to help however she could.
"So faithful... That's my girl." Ivy whispered back, giving Hazel a loving smile.
The Doctor's heart blossomed, she'd never felt such joy. She could smell honey suckle and strawberries, she felt light headed, no, light bodied, as if she could just float away upon a cloud. When Ivy's lips met hers the last shred of resistance faded away, her arms lifted to coil around Ivy's neck, desperately clutching to the villainess, frantically returning the kiss as if every ending it would mean to end her own life.
The sweet scent continued to waft through the air and soothe her mind as her tongue wrestled with Ivy's own and her body ached for something more, a plaintive moan slipped from her lips as Ivy broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva between their mouths till she flicked out her tongue and wiped it away.
"Tsk tsk, doctor... Such an inappropriate relationship with your patient, whatever will the medical board say?"
"Your opinion is all that matters, Pamela..." Hazel replied, still staring up at the other woman in adoration.
"Mmmh, please, doctor... Call me Ivy."
The door to Eric Walsh's office slid open quietly, even at this late hour the Gotham Forensic's lab still had a few late night techs hard at work and he didn't wish to draw their attention. A roll of his shoulders pushed the cape back out of his way as he moved around the office. He rolled the chair back out of the way as he looked over Walsh's desk, then plugged his scanner into the USB port of the computer. Within two minutes the scanner had determined Walsh's computer activities over the last week and within seconds of that it had highlighted every web link that might be of interest to the detective.
His eyes roamed the scanner's list. He scowled, then scrolled further down, it wasn't an expert investigation, but it was far from amateurish, Eric Walsh had done a very thorough job. As he neared the end of the list his grip on the scanner tightened as his eyes widened in understanding and alarm. Snatching the scanner out of the port he slipped it back into his belt and moved for the door, but something had caught his ear. Noise. Movement, but it wasn't outside, someone was in the office with him.
He whirled around, the cape billowing out around him as his eyes roamed the room. He lifted a hand and tapped the side of his cowl just over his temple. The lenses re-calibrated to an enhanced vision mode. A heat signature behind the large filing cabinet. With astonishing strength he hauled the cabinet away from the wall, the noise would attract attention, but while people tried to figure out what it was he would have the suspect and be long gone; or so he thought.
His eyes widened at the sight before him, his jaw dropping in shock and revulsion. The dark knight himself recoiled away from the hole that had been carved into the wall and the sight that lay inside the hollowed out opening. Most of the Eric Walsh's body was withered and drained of liquid, his face gaunt, possessing an ever lasting haunted expression. His limbs were contorted into strange positions, his head hanging unnaturally to the side and his jaw hanging wide open, a thick vine growing out of it with a bright tropical flowering at it's peak, hanging over Walsh's head in the dark hollow. The strange plant was consuming Walsh's body for fertilizer, eating away at flesh and muscle at such a rapid, unnatural rate that the corpse wasn't even going through natural decomposition, preventing it from stinking, or drawing unwanted attention; what little smell lingered in the room went unnoticed amongst the scent of decay and chemicals common to the forensic lab.
It was a perfect hiding place, he was furious not to have thought to investigate this possibility sooner. The real Eric Walsh had been dead for months, replaced by one of Ivy's Green Man pod grown clones, grown from this very plant. With an animalistic growl he reached toward the flower to rend it out of the victim's desecrated body. With startling speed the flower moved, it swiveled around like a para-scope, facing directly at him, pedals spreading out widely. He barely had time to lift the cape as a trio of barbs shot from a slender orifice at the center of the flower, the spines struck against the thick fabric of his cape and fell to the ground as he spun his opposite hand out, severing the flower from it's stem with a swift lash from the razor edge of a batarang.
The plant squealed and shrieked like a wounded animal, vines and roots writhing, causing Eric Walsh's body to jump and writhe as if being reanimated before the Batman's eyes. Running feet could be heard in the hall way. With another surge of strength he hauled the filing cabinet across the office and shoved it up against the office door. The plant would soon be dead, but he didn't have time to stay and explain things to the forensics department. As the plant continued to shriek and writhe, and someone outside hammered on the office door, the detective slipped out the window into the night.