DOUBLE DOSE OF POISON

By Pandora Skye

It was an easy moment to remember, because it seemed that fate had decided the whole thing. Two weeks ago at exactly 2pm he had been sitting at this very bench, second table in the second row of the second inmate dining area of the maximum security wing at Arkham Asylum. He had been halfheartedly stirring his coffee when security had brought Poison Ivy in, kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. Harvey had just grinned, pleased to see that her plans had been once again thwarted by the Bat. It was a short lived moment, for he soon remembered that he too was locked away in this madhouse cage for those deemed 'a danger to society'.

The fortnight had dripped away at that painfully slow pace everything moved in this damned place. Harvey Two-Face hadn't seen Ivy again, no one had. But by hell had the whole asylum heard her. For the first week, Ivy had been relentless as always, screaming and pounding her fists against her cell door. The racket was quickly added to with the rattling of her metal frame cot being dragged, overturned and flung across the small enclosure specially made to hold her. But slowly, just as it did with them all – except perhaps the clown and his hysterics – the asylum wore her down and Ivy was silent with her anger and torment.

It had now been a further week with little more than a few tidbits of whispered rumour about the villainess and Harvey sat brooding over his coffee, just as he did everyday at 2pm. He had been mildly shocked when she stepped onto his bench and flopped across the table, laying on her back with an exasperated sigh.

"Quinn's not in, and the Joker's not due for a Bat-bashing anytime soon," she grumbled, staring at the hypnotic ceiling fan above her, "you'll have to do."

Harvey snickered at her, shaking his head slowly. Ivy was bored, biding her time for an escape, but bored. Since Harley Quinn had appeared on the Joker's arm, Two Face had barely seen Poison Ivy in Arkham without her.

"Find someone else to be your girlfriend Pam," he growled, pouring a little too much sugar into his steaming mug, "I ain't interested."

Ivy crossed her legs, bouncing her foot rhythmically in mid air as she smiled at Harvey Dent, her green eyes watery and dark. Not enough sunlight, he thought, she needed sunlight to stay healthy and strong, everything Arkham wouldn't allow her. Despite himself, Harvey pushed his coffee towards her.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, sitting up and greedily draining the coffee, "you have no idea how much I needed that."

Great, Harvey thought, now get lost. But Ivy just drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly, staring at him. Harvey shuffled uncomfortably, provoking a wicked smile on Ivy's lips. Two bullets to that pretty face would fix her, he thought, but returned her mockery with his most charming District Attorney smile. Ivy frowned.

"Believe it or not Harvey," she hissed, "not your best side."

She lightly sprung herself from the table and disappeared, much to his content. He reached into the pocket of his asylum uniform, drawing out two cigars and a tinder box. Standard asylum issue: checked, tested, and checked again, guaranteed safe for inmate use. Only the Joker was refused such luxuries, although Harvey wondered why, it never stopped him escaping anyway. He sucked in the toxicity of the smoke, savouring the rich flavours that burned in his lungs. Slowly, he exhaled, regretting that he had given up his coffee. It didn't much matter, he realized Ivy was back on the table and a fresh mug sat in front of him. He chuckled as the warmth rose and brushed against his face.

"You really are desperate for company," he noted, a hint of gratitude tainting his voice, "that, or you want something."

Ivy smiled, but the crease above her eyebrow betrayed her. Her chin was cupped in her hands, elbows resting on her thighs, and as Harvey realized this minor detail he became sharply aware of the cuts and bruises that ran across her flesh. Ivy saw his eyes traveling over her arms. She rolled up her pants to reveal the full extent of the battle that landed her in here again. Harvey seethed with rage. Gordon's secret weapon, the vigilante detective that was the Batman, Christ almighty even Two Face would never do this to a woman. Not even one as deadly as Poison Ivy.

"He plays rough, doesn't he?" Ivy mused, her voice venomous as she traced her finger over a deep gash in the muscle just below her knee, "I'm starting to look like Harley."

She rolled the leg of her pants back down quickly, suddenly seeming less than her usual confident self. Harvey knew the feeling well, vanity could be a bitch sometimes. He patted her hand gently with a warm smile, sucking in the smoke from his cigars again, careful to blow the smoke away from Ivy. She was so weak right now, he feared even the smallest puff would put her in the infirmary.

"Why does the Bat get away with so much, Harv? I mean, really, what are we doing that he's not?" Ivy complained, her arms flailing dramatically, "so much for justice."

Harvey chuckled again, pressing his finger onto the silver coin that lay on the table between them. He slid it over to her and tapped it a few times as he drew again on the cigars. Ivy glanced at it, this seemingly insignificant tool by which Harvey Two Face lived, it had always intrigued her. She reached to pick it up, but stopped short with a checking glance at Harvey. He nodded once and Ivy grasped the coin, turning it over to see both sides. Double headed, one side scored deeply and slightly blackened. Just like him, she thought with a smile.

"This is the only justice I know," Harvey said, his eyes dark and smouldering, "no judge or jury to buy off, just fate and chance, the great and indiscriminant equalizer."

Ivy flipped the coin, catching it in a closed fist. Her eyes met Harvey's, but neither spoke. She had always thought he was handsome, even if she had wanted him dead once. When her television screen had flickered the footage of mob boss Maroni flinging acid in his flawless face, she had expected a more jubilant reaction. But her hands had flung to her mouth, stifling a scream that escaped as a mere gasp, and she had felt sick to realize that she had actually grown to love him all those years ago.

"Call it," Harvey instructed her in his dark voice, "good heads, I forgive you, bad heads, try again in a few more years."

Ivy rose her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. So, he was willing to put an end to their feud. Either Harvey Dent had gotton over it or Two Face remembered their steamy past with anticipation of spending less time listening to Dent's guilty conscience. Either way, the prospect of truce with Harvey was not altogether apprehensible to Poison Ivy. Not at all. Slowly, she let her fist open like a spring rose in the morning, her eyes glued to his.

"Well?" she asked, refusing to read it herself. Harvey peered at the shining face on the coin, each letter in the word 'liberty' perfectly legible. His eyes darted up to Ivy, who sat with her legs crossed and smiling at him. She had peeked.

"That's that then," he said, taking the coin from her and flipping it a few times before slipping it into his pocket. He pressed the tip of each cigar against the table, twisting until they smouldered out. Ivy watched, her face expressionless. Simple as that, she thought.

"You know, I only tried to kill you because our individual missions collided at my expense," she explained, "it was never anything personal."

Harvey was lost for words. Since the accident and his own fall from grace, he had learnt a thing or two about Pamela Isely, the woman he had almost married until she gave him a lethal dose of rose poison administered with her lips. She wasn't a bad person, just a woman who believed in something, just like he did. Harvey even went so far as to reason that it was the same for most of Arkham's notorious: Nigma, Crane, Quinn, Freeze, christ even the Joker! They were vigilantes for their cause, just like Batman. But unlike Batman, they always ended up in Arkham. Or worse.

"We loved you once upon a time Pam," he admitted in low tone, "Harvey Dent was easily intoxicated by your beauty, it almost killed me."

Ivy combed his hair back with her fingers. She felt his sudden grasp on her wrist, tight and painful. If the asylum staff hadn't deprived her of sunlight and water for two weeks, she'd have him on the ground and begging for mercy by now. But she saw his eyes mist over and felt his grip loosen. Ah, she thought, I see. I see.

"So what is Two Face intoxicated by?" she asked gently, wiping the trickle of water that fell from his over exposed left eye and down the scarred flesh of his cheek. He closed his eyes and she felt something escape from him with his breath. Ivy wondered if anyone had ever touched his face since the accident. Somehow, she doubted it. Humans were cruel, fickle creatures, but she was not so human and such things mattered little to her.

"You're smart, strong, and dangerous," Two Face growled, not looking at her, "and the only person who doesn't look at me with either terror or disgust."

Poison Ivy knelt on the bench and drew him close to her, pressing her cheek against his left side as she held him. Harvey breathed in the floral scent of her red hair, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He knew they would be enemies again soon enough, but for now he was grateful for her love and friendship. He always would be.

"Harvey, there are very few men in this world who can claim that they were loved by Poison Ivy," she whispered, still holding him to her, "and you are among the best of them."

Ivy felt the tight grip of the Arkham guard as his hands clamped hold of her shoulders and pulled her away from Harvey. Bastards, she thought, I only touched him for a second! She didn't bother to put up much of a fight, they had weakened her and Ivy knew it was useless. But Harvey struggled with them, demanding that they unhand him immediately. Ivy heard him fighting against them, cursing and lashing out visciously as they threw her to the ground and beat her savagely with their batons. She curled into a ball and carefully remembered every blow, saving them for a later time and her inevitable revenge.

When she was dragged, bruised and bloody, back to her cell, she caught a glimpse of Harvey. He had been shot with a tranquilizer dart that still hung in his throat, and though he had lost the power to fight off the angered attack of the guards, he remained conscious as they broke several of his bones. Their eyes met briefly, knowing that something as simple as an embrace between inmates of their status would not be tolerated in Arkham Asylum. Ivy had seen her friend Harley Quinn receive the same beating so many times for expressing affection towards the Joker on his rare moments of asylum freedom.

As they dragged Harvey away, Ivy gave him the best smile she could manage, winking her gratitude for his defense of her. Funny, he had once defended with diplomacy and words, now he used violent force and a silver coin. Just as she had given up the tedious and fruitless talks with political leaders over the environmental crisis that hung on the horizon and took matters into her own capable hands. Harvey had smiled back sadly before disappearing down the corridor to his cell.

Ivy was hauled into her own prison and heaped on her repaired cot unceremoniously. As she lay in the dank darkness, hungrily absorbing the fine mist that was sprayed into her cell for only one short hour each day, she thought of Batman and his role in Gotham City. Just like us, she thought, sick of the talk, sick of the lack of action, sick of the protocols that achieve absolutely nothing. So why didn't he wind up here, punished and labeled criminally insane with his own kind? Angered and deeply in pain, Ivy fell asleep and dreamt of happier times with Harvey Dent.

The darkness of his cell hung around him like a thick blanket. Harvey leaned against the stone wall and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the coin and began to flip it. Interesting afternoon, he thought to himself, feeling a little hazy. He had enjoyed Ivy's company for the first time in years and though he would never admit it to anyone else, he missed her. She had always seen things the same way he did, black and white with no hogwash excuses in between.

The world was run by a legal system that protected the guilty and insulted the innocent. Rapists were out after a few years while their victims lives lay in irreparable tatters, murderers took lives and paid with a carefree prison life of catered meals and free cable, cops accepted bribes from gangsters in return for turning a blind eye. He had seen it all as Gotham's DA, he had seen justice turned into a joke and the law placed in the hands of the worst kind of criminals. Harvey Two Face had taken the law into his own hands after it had failed him, determining the fate of the accused by something more reliable than the judicial system: the flip of a coin.

And yet, though their vigilante techniques differed, the Batman was not so different to himself. Like Harvey, he worked out of the legal scope of recognition and without the support of Gotham City. But somehow, he was overlooked and allowed to pass judgement on the likes of Harvey Two Face and Poison Ivy. She was right, it didn't make sense. He flipped the coin again, catching it in a closed fist as Ivy had done.

"Good heads, we bide our time," Harvey said, feeling the dark laughter of Two Face rise in his chest, "bad heads, Batman gets a double dose of poison."

Slowly, Harvey opened his fist and stared at the coin. He grinned, pleased that it had taken only one toss to get the result he wanted. He began to laugh, squeezing the coin in the palm of his hand.

"Altogether, I'd say it's been a rather lucky day for us," Two Face mused in his low growl. With that said, Harvey tucked the coin back into his pocket, patting it twice before removing his hand.

* A short story by Pandora Skye, as adapted from the characters of the DC Comics classic, Batman. These characters are not original and have been borrowed for the purpose of paying tribute to the unspoken and ultimately fatal attraction between Poison Ivy and Harvey Two Face. Pandora Skye whole heartedly supports all Arkham Asylum inmates in the crusade for the total demise of Batman, even if he is the coolest superhero ever. On that note, I do not condone vigilante behaviour unless you intend to have a cool costume or physical quirk with an attitude and awesome name to match. X PS.