Hanging up without any form of goodbye, Ivy threw the phone on the nearby couch and she heard it bounce off the stiff cushions and land on the floor with a sharp crack. However, she paid it no mind as her gaze was focused solely on Harley, whose expression was an odd mix of surprise and mild nervousness.

"You said he was dead," Ivy hissed through clenched teeth, "you said you watched him die."

"Red, I know how this looks..." Harley started in a explanatory tone as she held out her hands in a flat position.

"Really, Harls? Because to me this looks suspicious as hell? Someone living in a building owned by your 'puddin'," she spat the word out with pure venom, "seems to want us dead. It doesn't take a genius to work out what's going on here."

Ivy could feel her anger building as a sense of betrayal entered the mix. She had slept easier at night thinking that Joker was finally dead and that Harley was finally safe from his influence but to discover that she may have been fooled by a lie was infuriating.

"Did you know he was alive?" She accused openly, "Have you lived here for these few weeks knowing that at any moment he could strike? I am not prepared for an assault on this apartment by the likes of him." The confession was true, as much as she hated him she had to admit that he was dangerous, "If you've known he is alive and you have lied and left us both here defenseless while he plots his revenge then-" Ivy broke off, leaving the rest of her sentence unspoken.

Visibly panicking, Harley took a step towards her to deny the accusations and show that she was innocent but Ivy, without hesitation, took a step back to keep her distance.

Ivy knew she could not physically be near the blonde when she was this angry since it was more dangerous than Harley could possibly understand.

The injections which she had provided Harley with were designed to protect and defend her from the most common poisons which she would encounter while offering a strong resistance to rarer forms, they could turn the deadly into something of a minor inconvenience. However, the poisons which Ivy was aware her body instinctively produced when she was legitimately angered were incredibly potent and possessed a high chance of killing Harley on contact despite her added protections.

Flinching as Ivy retreated from her, a sudden welling of tears appeared in Harleys' eyes, "Red, I swear, I thought he was dead. I saw his plane go down and he didn't come out from it. My puddin' is dead, Red. I wouldn't lie about that. Not to you." A small tear escaped and ran down her cheek before falling to the ground.

Taking no pleasure in seeing her upset, Ivy calmed her tone slightly from the outright aggression which had coloured it, "If it were any other subject in the world I would believe you without question, Harls, but I can't," she shook her head, "not when it concerns him."

Coming to an immediate decision and marching to her bedroom, Ivy paused just inside the doorway long enough to send Harley a warning glance not to follow her. She needed to work out a plan and she could not have the blonde near her while she did.

Not when she could not be fully counted on.

"But Red-" Harley stood defiant, ready to argue her point even as she wiped forcefully at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve.

"I'm sorry Harley," Ivy announced quietly, "I need to be alone and it's too dangerous for you to be near me at the moment. We can talk about this tomorrow morning." Her tone was apologetic as she smiled sadly.

Closing the door firmly, she felt Harleys' presence on the other side for a moment before a soft noise which sounded suspiciously like a suppressed sob made itself known and she heard Harleys' footsteps as she returned to the couch.

x-x-x-x-x

Awaking in the middle of the night as her silent alarm vibrated, Ivy was mentally prepared for what she understood had to be done.

Sliding the bedroom door open silently, she glided into the living room like a ghost as she attempted to locate Harley. It wasn't a difficult task. The blonde was curled up on the luxurious couch with her arms wrapped around a pillow which she had clutched to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. Her blonde hair was untied and fanned across her face and shoulders, its light colour reflecting in the subtle light which the moon was providing to the small room.

As she glanced at her, Ivy felt a well of guilt. She had been harsher on Harley than she intended but the surprise of finding out the clown may still be living had hit her hard. Thinking him dead had provided her with a deep sense of comfort which had been torn from her in a single moment.

The main source of her guilt was her accusation that Harley had been wilfully lying to her.

They may not always be entirely honestly, as criminals it was in their nature to deal in half-truths and hidden information, but they had never explicitly lied to each other.

They didn't have to.

But despite the amount of affection and love which they shared, discovering that the Joker was alive would bring Harleys' loyalties into question. It was unavoidable. The clown had made her into who she was today by taking what had been Harleen Quinzel and transforming her into the infamous Harley Quinn. The psychiatrist still existed within the blonde but her mind and body had been tainted in a way which could never truly be cleansed.

The Joker would always have a place in Harleys' life.

He had been her lover, tormentor, creator and life for longer than Ivy had known her and despite the contempt which Harley now held for him, the depth of that relationship would always exist. Even after all the abuse, she would still be conflicted by his presence and with what she had planned, Ivy could not allow that conflict to intervene.

Leaving the living room and being careful not to awaken the sleeping Harley, Ivy slipped into her workshop and took a deep breath as she eyed up the various tools at her disposal.

The first task which lay before her was to change. Shedding her nightgown, she pulled on the tight dark green, almost black, catsuit which was her preferred 'costume' as she worked as Poison Ivy, a moniker given to her by the Gotham press which she had grown to love over the years.

Zipping up the catsuit she stood by the various plants and vines which decorated her private space and summoned them to her. Relaxing her body and mind, she allowed them to begin covering her as they sought to protect her.

As the vines wound their way along her limbs she felt them settle and tighten gently in a way which allowed her full mobility while also defending the vital areas of her body where veins and arteries lay. A cut vein would kill her as quickly as it would a regular human and she had to be cautious.

Her red hair swayed freely and she introduced a small lily to the left hand side, just behind her ear. As she encouraged it softly she felt its stem grow and weave its way through her loose hair as it secured herself to her. Reaching up a hand, she felt along the stem and was pleased to feel the various large thorns which were now protruding from it.

It had taken her many months of intense work but this white lily was her own unique creation and the pride of her collection. Using her own blood and botanical skill, she had created this lily with the ability to induce paralysis to those who dared to touch its thorns. Its usefulness in a fight was unmatched as she enjoyed its abilities as a long-range weapon but also found it an excellent method of dispatching those who got close enough to grab at her hair.

Opening one of the small pockets on her utility belt, she filled it with toxic pellets. When thrown at the ground they emitted a cloud of gas which had a similar effect to pepper spray and could temporarily incapacitate an attacker allowing them to be dispatched. To the side of that pocket, she slid her favourite scalpel into its set place. She found that a scalpel worked much more accurately that scissors when she was tending to her plants and throughout her years spent defending mother earth from mankind she had found that the speed and accuracy of a scalpel had more deadly uses and it soon became a staple in her arsenal.

Stretching out, she felt a bone in her back snap in a satisfying manner as she slowly limbered up. She would need to be at the top of her game if her mission was to succeed, even one wrong move could result in her own demise.

She loved Harley and Harley loved her.

But as long as the Joker lived, Harley would never be completely free of his influence and able to live her life unhindered and so the solution seemed clear to Ivy.

He had to die.

Previously, she had been content to tear his empire apart in her pursuit of releasing Harley from his grasp and, as she completed her goal, she found satisfaction. However, in thinking him dead she had found a new level of peace and she could no longer exist without it.

His attempts to assassinate both herself and Harley only gave her the excuse she needed.

Sneaking to the front door, she cast one final glance at the sleeping blonde.

Harley wanted the Joker dead as much as she did but her core was divided and Ivy suspected that forcing her to confront him would cause her too much conflict and pain. Blowing one final soft kiss her way, Ivy closed the door behind her and set off into the night with a vague hope that Harley would forgive any sense of betrayal she may feel.

Inside the silent room, the click of the latch was met with the sudden opening of Harleys' eyes as she watched the shut door with a calculating expression.

x-x-x-x-x

Arriving at the address which Deadshot had provided her with, Ivy was unsurprised to find that the lights were on and her senses were assaulted by the vividly flashing neon sign which hung above the front door.

A look of distaste appeared on her face as she read it.

"Wacko Smacko Doll Factory," she muttered, "ugh." Talk about a lack of creativity. She vaguely wondered why Batman even bothered using high-tech equipment to hunt the idiot clown down if he was going to be this obvious.

From her vantage point, she could make out the faint outline of a skylight on the roof of the building she was planning on storming and she quickly deduced that it would probably be her safest point of entry. Joker had previously learned the hard way to keep his buildings plant-free and she could sense no flora within the building itself which she could use to her advantage.

Making her way down the roof she was currently on via the fire escapes, she checked the alleyways to ensure that they were empty. There was no need to draw unnecessary attention to herself and if she were to be discovered before she had a solid plan then things could turn disastrous.

Snaking her way along the side of the building, she sought out a way of scaling it.

Eventually she reached an old, rusted ladder which extended up the entire length of the wall and she sighed in relief. Her ascent was virtually silent and as she reached the top of the ladder she peered over the top to ensure that the rooftop was empty.

It wasn't.

Almost dropping to the ground in surprise, she tightened her grip as she pulled herself fully onto the roof to confront the individual who was already sitting there.

"Harley!"

Her hushed yell carried across the rooftop and as it reached her, Harley turned her face fully.

"Hey, Red."

Her voice sounded happy but Ivy could see the flicker of apprehension as she approached and it made her slow. Harley had never been apprehensive of her before. They had argued before and even almost come to blows on one or two occasions but Harley had never reacted like this.

It took her a moment but realisation hit.

Harley wasn't afraid of her, Harley was afraid that she was going to be rejected.

Unhappy that she had given the blonde that impression, Ivy held out her hand and Harley took it without hesitation. Pulling her to her feet, Ivy leaned in a placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

Harley accepted the kiss with a small smile before turning to face Ivy fully, "Betcha thought you could get by me! Nothing gets by me, Pammy." She kept the smile but the accusation was clear.

"Harley," Ivys' tone was gentle, "why did you come here?"

"I didn't want you to come alone." Harley shrugged as she answered evasively.

Sighing, Ivy let go of her, "You know why I am here. If he is alive i'm going to finish him and I know he still holds some power over you." She let her hands hang freely at her side, "I didn't want to risk putting you in a position between us."

"That's not for you to decide," Harley argued firmly before softening her voice, "I know what you're trying to do Red but I don't want you getting' hurt."

Ivy narrowed her eyes, "He can't hurt me."

Giving her a patient look, Harley raised an eyebrow, "Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say, Red."

"So you came here to kill your puddin'?" Ivy asked sharply. She did not want to be mean to Harley but she had to understand what was at stake.

Tightening her grip around her baseball bat, Harley shook her head, "I don't think I can kill Mistah J," she confessed, "but I can't let him kill you, Red. I won't stop you killing him but you can't ask me to do it. I don't think I can."

Hearing Harley make that confession was more important than Ivy would admit, "You know I would never ask you to do it. I wouldn't do that to you, Harls." Without breaking eye contact, she sought out Harleys' hand and gave it a squeeze.

Turning towards the skylight, Ivy bent down to observe the inside of the factory. The room was almost bisected by a conveyor belt which looked rusty from disuse and a few crates of imported weapons which were littered around in an untidy fashion. The head of the room was fashioned with a desk which stood before a black leather chair which was almost throne-like in its grandiosity.

She counted five guards. One by the desk, two sitting on the conveyor belt and the remaining two standing by one of the weapon crates sharing a cigarette. Each man was holding a pistol aside from one of the men on the conveyor who held a metal baseball bat in one hand.

She strained her hearing in an attempt to pick up the faint conversation.

"Did the boss say how long it was gonna take?" The dark-skinned man who stood by the desk called to the pair on the belt.

One man shrugged in response while the other cleared his throat, "How am I supposed to know? He's working that guy in the basement over good. He's been screaming for over three hours so it should be over soon."

A grunt, "Poor bastard."

As though summoned by his mention, the door to the basement swung open and Ivy could only make out the vague online of a purple coat and a green swatch of hair.

As he entered, the room fell silent as he made his way towards the desk and chair.

Her fury momentarily overriding her reason, Ivy picked up a nearby rock and used it to smash open the skylight. As the small shards of glass fell into the room she followed them, dropping into the room with a practised grace.

Cries of surprise echoed from the men in the room but she only had attention for one.

"Joker!" She bellowed, her strong voice carrying across the room with force as a small thump to her left let her know that Harley had dropped to her side.

At the sound of his name, the Joker stopped and turned slowly to face the pair but as his face was revealed to the pair they shared a quick glance.

"Who the hell are you?!"

x-x-x-x-x

"Who the hell are you?" Ivy repeated as she stared at the Joker-esque figure who was glaring at them both with unbridled hatred.

Surprisingly, it was Harley who answered. "Chuck? Is that you, hun?"

Turning to her, Ivy frowned, "Who?"

Ignoring the faux-Joker and his armed guard, Harley turned to answer her, "Chuck! His full name is Chuck Leigh. Y'know? Chuck-Le? Chuckle? He was one of Mistah J's lieutenants. Mistah J thought it was funny to have a guy named Chuckle so he kept him around."

"I'm sure he did." Ivy rolled her eyes.

Unhappy with being discussed so casually, Chuck stamped his foot in anger, "You bitch! You killed the boss in Midway City! He told me you did!" He pointed at Harley. "He went to meet you and then he was gone and you were with her!"

He cast his eyes over at Ivy, "You killed him and she helped you get away with it! The boss speaks to me and he told me that you were both to be punished for it."

Ivy felt a hint of relief that Jokers' death seemed to be sticking but she was still pissed off with this fool as she muttered under her breath, "I hate this city..."

His speech was somewhat unhinged and as she gave him a closer look, she could see further evidence of his descent into madness. To her, nothing less that pure madness could inspire someone to want to emulate the clown.

The jacket seemed genuine and she would not be surprised to find out that it had actually belonged to the Joker but that is where the similarities ended. His green hair was poorly-dyed and patchy with hints of brown poking through in several areas and his skin was covered in a suspiciously shiny shade of white.

"Is that paint?" Ivy pointed to his bare torso.

"Yeah I think it is," Harley giggled, "Dulux in the shade 'dove white' probably. Glossy finish," she paused, "they must have ran out of matte."

"So you're the Joker now?" Ivy asked mockingly.

"The boss spoke to me in my head and said if I kill the other lieutenants I could be him!" Chuck screamed, "So I killed them all! And I killed the ones who said that you should be boss!" He pointed at Harley again.

"Me? Now that's an idea I can get behind. Harley Quinn the Queen of Gotham!" Harley spun in a circle before making a small bow and winking at Chuck, enraging him further. "You wanna be Queen too, Red?" She directed at Ivy.

"I'd vote for you both!" The dark-skinned man announced from his position behind Chuck.

Looking past him, Harley recognised the speaker, "Hey Dave! How you doin'?" She waved at him frantically, "Is the girlfriend still running ya ragged?"

"Nah man, Joker killed her just after you got locked up." He frowned as he recalled the incident.

"Ahh," Harley pursed her lips, "umm...sorry for asking?"

"Nah it's fine, you didn't kn-"

Daves' words were cut off as his the back of his head was blown out by a single bullet from Chucks' gun, his body folding as it slammed to the ground.

"HEY! We were talking there!" Harley exclaimed as she pulled out her magnum and aimed it at Chucks' face.

"I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!" Chuck shrieked as he aimed his gun at Harley in return.

At his actions the four remaining guards in the room jumped to attention and the three who possessed guns turned them in the direction of the two women.

"You do realise that Mistah J only kept you around because he found your name funny. He was gonna kill you when the novelty wore off, Chuckie-Boy! You think you're gonna replace him?" Harleys' laughter started low and grew higher in pitch as it continued, "You're nothing! Nothing!"

A twitch appearing in his jaw, Chuck bared his teeth as his face twisted in rage, "KILL THEM! KILL THEM BOTH! THE BOUNTY STILL STANDS! ONE MILLION TO THE MAN WHO KILLS THESE BITCHES WHO KILLED THE BOSS!"

"Well yikes." Harley muttered as an wave of bullets started to come their way.

Ivy spewed obscenities as she grabbed a handful of her poison pellets and threw them to the ground. As the clouds of poison rose, she pulled Harley through them until they could take cover behind one of the discarded weapon crates.

The sharp crack of bullets as they struck the wood was constant as splinters flew over their heads.

"Did you really have to wind him up?" Ivy asked, exasperated.

"Hey! I instigated nothing! Chuck was always a creep. He used to kill his girlfriends ya know. Used to hurt 'em and then kill 'em. Mistah J banned me from killing him though."

"Why am I not surprised?" Gritting her teeth, Ivy twisted slightly to locate their attackers.

Finding that only one was not currently using cover, she smirked as she caught sight of him.

Reaching up, she pulled one of the thorns from her lily and, waiting for a pause in the assault, leaned out from the side of the crate and launched it swiftly across the room with a flick of her powerful wrist.

The thorn flew with unerring accuracy, landing squarely in the cheek of the uncovered shooter and the shock of it was so sudden that he continued to fire even as his legs collapsed from under his body and he fell to the floor unmoving.

"Nice one, Red!" Harley laughed manically, the thrill of the fight getting to her, "Now it's my turn!"

Standing without fear, she took aim at one of the more covered shooters as the bullets whizzed by her.

Narrowing her eyes to focus, she clicked her tongue as she pulled the trigger.

Ivy never saw the shot but she heard the soft spatter of blood on the hard floor followed by the thump of a falling body.

Harley may be messy at times but she was a hell of a shot when it counted.

With only two guards and Chuck left, Ivy decided to go on the offensive, "You ready, Harls?"

"Always." Harley replied instantly, grinning with anticipation.

Both diving out from their positions, they started to dart simultaneously across the room in an attempt to eliminate the remaining threats.

The two remaining gunmen, one guard and Chuck himself, split their focus as the guard fired on Ivy while Chuck concentrated on Harley.

Ducking along the conveyor belt as she avoided the shots, Ivy pulled her hidden scalpel from its sheath. Dragging it across her palm gently, she allowed her blood to coat it as she rolled out and immediately continued her sprint towards the guard.

Unprepared for the sudden attack, the man fumbled with his gun as she appeared before him and attempted to slash at his neck. Bringing his gun up he was able to deflect the initial attack but in doing so he left his arms exposed and Ivy pounced on the opportunity. The scalpel made a clean incision in his forearm and Ivy smirked in victory.

"Nice try, lady!" The man spat at her as he pulled away, not even bothering to attend to the shallow cut.

Keeping the scalpel in her hand, she pouted her lips at him, "Aww baby, you're too stupid to realise that you're already dead." As she spoke, she could see his breathing weaken as the poison which ran through her blood infected his. Lashing out with her foot, she knocked him to the ground before sprinting towards Harleys' position.

He would be dead within the minute.

Realising that his gunmen were all dead and he was out of bullets himself, Chuck froze in horror as both Harley and Ivy confronted his last guard.

The final man held out his metal baseball bat with shaky hands as he looked uncertainly between the pair, "Stay back," he warned, "I swear i'll brain you both!"

"Yours is nice," Harley simpered, "but mine is nicer!"

Twirling her bat in her hands, she tilted her head at him, "Do you wanna know how many people i've killed with this bat?" She asked in an intimate whisper.

"Fuck this," the man announced, "i'm out."

Dropping the bat, he darted towards the exit and, without looking back, disappeared through it.

"Smart guy." Ivy nodded her support of his decision, "Harls, you got another shot in you?"

"Sure, Red."

Without speaking, Ivy pointed at the first gunman she had paralysed with her thorns and she watched passively as Harley skipped to his position and, placing the barrel of her gun to his temple, blew his brains across the floor.

"Hey Chuck?" Harley called out to him.

"Fuck you, bitch!" He snarled back.

Tutting in disapproval at the disrespect, Ivy started to stalk towards him, "That's no way to speak to a lady, Chuck. Didn't your mother ever teach you to be nice to women?" She smiled as Harley appeared at her side again.

Backing him against the wall, they both held similar looks of contemplation.

"Ya gonna give him a kiss, Red?" Harley asked, clapping her hands together.

Scrunching her nose in distaste, Ivy shook her head, "I wouldn't waste the poison."

"So..can I...?" Harley paused suggestively.

"Go for it, baby." Ivy smirked.

Leaning forward, Harley clasped his head in her strong hands as his eyes widened in fear, "You wanna be Mistah J? That's fine. Me and Red came here to kill Mistah J if he was here," she confessed, "but we're happy to settle for you. Nighty night, Chuckie Boy."

Smiling viciously, she twisted her hands to the side and snapped his neck, killing him instantly.

Allowing the body to fall to the floor unceremoniously, they both stared at it for a few moments without comment.

"So...it wasn't Mistah J after all," Harley summarised, "I told you I saw him die."

"Aww baby," Ivy muttered soothingly, "I just had to be sure that you weren't lying to me. You know that you can be a bit...funny...when the clown is involved."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Harley scolded before smiling goofily, "but I think you might have a fair point."

Ivy glanced down as she felt Harley grab at her arm and she allowed her to slide her hand in hers.

"Home?"

"Home."

x-x-x-x-x

Collapsing in the bed, Ivy felt the exhaustion of the day catching up with her. She had unwound her vines and pulled off her catsuit but the thought of changing into night clothes seemed like an excess of effort. So lingerie it was but the satin sheets were ideal against her slightly aching body. After her near-death experience, she had taken a while to heal and she still found that any excess exertion caused her to ache.

To her side, Harley had on a similar lack of clothing but Ivy suspected that the blonde had a more nefarious plot in mind than simple sleep. The thought made her smile but she had a nagging feeling that she owed Harley something.

"Harley?" She murmured.

"Yeah, Red?"

"Did I say that I was sorry for all that stuff I said to you?"

"Nah but you don't nee-"

"I'm sorry, Harley."

"...thanks, Red."

Feeling more content now that she had apologised, Ivy slid down the bed a little so that she could rest her head on Harleys' neck and the smell of vanilla and patchouli that was uniquely Harley invaded her senses. A sense of calmness washed over her as a warm hand came to lay on the small of her exposed back, gently tracing nonsensical shapes.

"They never did find his body." Harley spoke conversationally.

"Huh?" Ivy was pulled from her dozing state by the unexpected statement.

"Mistah J," Harley explained, "they never did find his body. He could still be alive, I suppose."

Ivy nodded, having reached the same conclusion, "We can cross that bridge should it ever come to that. If he returns he will have no lieutenants left to command so it will take him a long time to regroup."

"And we'll be ready?"

"We'll be ready." Ivy confirmed.

"Can I get a kiss?" Harley tilted her head down to give Ivy a small wink.

Ivy tilted her head up to meet her and gently brushed her lips against Harleys' own.

Satisfied, Harley sighed blissfully, "I love your kisses."

"I know you do," Ivy purred before asking slyly, "and why is that?"

Harley paused for a moment to consider her answer, "Your kisses have probably killed more people that I have. They're so deadly and they have caused so much pain to so many people in this city."

Frowning at the answer, Ivy rolled over and pushed herself on to her elbows to face Harley. Her words were unexpected and Ivy felt that the explanation was odd, even a little hurtful, "And how is any of that a good thing?"

Giggling at Ivys' confusion, Harley pushed her with her arm and when Ivy was flat on her back she moved to hover over her, their faces just inches apart. "You're not understanding me, Red!" She shook her head gently before continuing.

"The reason I love your kisses so much is because they can be used to hurt me," Ivy opened her mouth to protest but Harley placed a finger on her lips to shush her, "but I know that they never will. And that means a lot to me, Red. More than ya know."

Beaming with pleasure at the explanation and feeling the sudden need to be as close as possible, Ivy reached up and pulled Harley down to her, their bodies naturally moulding into each other as she dove in for a fierce kiss which was filled with her love for the other woman.

The quiet hiss of their breathing and the soft rustling of the bedsheets were the only sounds which existed within the apartment as its two occupants enjoyed the rare moment of peace and contentment knowing that in Gotham City it could not, and would not, last for long.