The Harvey and the Ivy
Well, this is ony a week later. That's not so bad.
Title: The Harvey and The Ivy
Pairing: Mentions of Ivy/Harley, Ivy/Harvey, Harley/??? and Harvey/???. Implied Harvey/Harley.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, canon would be NSFW. And there would be lots, lots more buttsex.
Rating: PG-13 for Language, Mentions of Sex, and an abundance of crazy.
Summary: Harvey and Two-Face are trying to read. Harley’s a Peeping Tom. Ivy’s just a ho.
Word Count: 672
Story Note: Ref: Pretty Poison (B:TAS)
------
The walls between them and the aisle are made of bulletproof glass an inch thick. The walls between the cells are concrete, with a steel plate in the middle. Those are new. A new guy said something about the Joker, and Harley dug through the wall between their cells. The orderlies hadn’t enjoyed the mural on the glass half as much as she had.
Harvey sat cross-legged on his cot, a book in each hand. He scares the new guys, eyes roving over two separate books. And then talking about them, to no one but himself. He’s a book club of one. Harley sits across from him, pressed close against the glass. She squints, rears back, and pitches forward again, hunting for a flash of red or a glimpse of green. Two-Face’s yellow eye rolled up to watch her.
“Harv.” The normal side of his face sighed.
“What?”
“Watch her.”
“What? It’s just-“ She lurched again, smacking her face solidly against the glass. “Oh, for the love of- Ivy!”
“What?”
“Talk to Harley, will ya? She’s gonna hurt herself.” The blonde slapped the glass and pointed an accusing finger.
“You two stay out of this!”
“Well, if she doesn’t want to talk to me, maybe I can talk to you, Harv.” Both sides of Harvey Dent shuddered. He could see Ivy’s reflection on the glass of the darkened cell across from hers, next to Harley. Her silhouette was exactly what it should be, all jaw-dropping curves and seductive fingers pawing the glass.
“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Harley slumped against the glass. A guard passed between them, looking edgy. He was one of the older ones- he’d been in that riot two years ago. Taken a pie in the face. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to settle down. The guards always did.
“What kinda times, Pammie?” The doctors, though, had quickly discovered that letting them talk meant a quieter ward in he long run. They had all known each other so long, had all worked together so often, shared so much- Group therapy for the hopelessly insane.
“Oh, didn’t you know? Ole Harvey and I were engaged. Gonna get hitched.” Ivy’s hands twist into claws. Harley’s eyes widen till they take up most of her head.
“Oh, Red! Really truly?” Ivy laughs, the sort of laugh that makes masked vigilantes throw smoke grenades and race for the exit.
“What’s a’matter? Thought you were my one and only? You aren’t the only one tangling the boy’s club.”
“Harvey?” His stomach clenched. He knows how the rest of the villainous set sees Harvey. And he knows they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. He hopes she won’t pop a cork over this. Contrary to popular theories about depression and paranoid schizophrenia, both of them would like to stay alive as long as they can.
“She was trying to kill me, because it would have been to much trouble to just tell me that that vacant lot was the only place in the world those flowers grew.” He lifted his voice, and when he spoke it was with both sides of his mouth. “Bitch.” Ivy laughed, and Harley rubbed absently at the red mark on her cheek.
“You sure enjoyed your little tiptoe through the tulips at the time, lover boy.” Harley sighed, and when she spoke her voice is not unkind, and more Quintzel than Quinn.
“Pammie, I know who he’s sleeping with. And having slept with them, I can tell you with total certainty that you wouldn’t make the flavor of the month club without some serious sex pollen.”
Ivy shrieked. Harvey and Two-Face laughed. Harley’s grin split her pretty face into a caricature. Somewhere further down the hall they can hear the Joker take up the laughter, and his ricochets wildly, blotting out Harvey in a mad choir of guffaws. Ivy is the only one who doesn’t falter and say a silent prayer to the shadow skirting Gotham’s rooftops that the Joker never leaves that cell.
Title: The Harvey and The Ivy
Pairing: Mentions of Ivy/Harley, Ivy/Harvey, Harley/??? and Harvey/???. Implied Harvey/Harley.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, canon would be NSFW. And there would be lots, lots more buttsex.
Rating: PG-13 for Language, Mentions of Sex, and an abundance of crazy.
Summary: Harvey and Two-Face are trying to read. Harley’s a Peeping Tom. Ivy’s just a ho.
Word Count: 672
Story Note: Ref: Pretty Poison (B:TAS)
------
The walls between them and the aisle are made of bulletproof glass an inch thick. The walls between the cells are concrete, with a steel plate in the middle. Those are new. A new guy said something about the Joker, and Harley dug through the wall between their cells. The orderlies hadn’t enjoyed the mural on the glass half as much as she had.
Harvey sat cross-legged on his cot, a book in each hand. He scares the new guys, eyes roving over two separate books. And then talking about them, to no one but himself. He’s a book club of one. Harley sits across from him, pressed close against the glass. She squints, rears back, and pitches forward again, hunting for a flash of red or a glimpse of green. Two-Face’s yellow eye rolled up to watch her.
“Harv.” The normal side of his face sighed.
“What?”
“Watch her.”
“What? It’s just-“ She lurched again, smacking her face solidly against the glass. “Oh, for the love of- Ivy!”
“What?”
“Talk to Harley, will ya? She’s gonna hurt herself.” The blonde slapped the glass and pointed an accusing finger.
“You two stay out of this!”
“Well, if she doesn’t want to talk to me, maybe I can talk to you, Harv.” Both sides of Harvey Dent shuddered. He could see Ivy’s reflection on the glass of the darkened cell across from hers, next to Harley. Her silhouette was exactly what it should be, all jaw-dropping curves and seductive fingers pawing the glass.
“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Harley slumped against the glass. A guard passed between them, looking edgy. He was one of the older ones- he’d been in that riot two years ago. Taken a pie in the face. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to settle down. The guards always did.
“What kinda times, Pammie?” The doctors, though, had quickly discovered that letting them talk meant a quieter ward in he long run. They had all known each other so long, had all worked together so often, shared so much- Group therapy for the hopelessly insane.
“Oh, didn’t you know? Ole Harvey and I were engaged. Gonna get hitched.” Ivy’s hands twist into claws. Harley’s eyes widen till they take up most of her head.
“Oh, Red! Really truly?” Ivy laughs, the sort of laugh that makes masked vigilantes throw smoke grenades and race for the exit.
“What’s a’matter? Thought you were my one and only? You aren’t the only one tangling the boy’s club.”
“Harvey?” His stomach clenched. He knows how the rest of the villainous set sees Harvey. And he knows they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. He hopes she won’t pop a cork over this. Contrary to popular theories about depression and paranoid schizophrenia, both of them would like to stay alive as long as they can.
“She was trying to kill me, because it would have been to much trouble to just tell me that that vacant lot was the only place in the world those flowers grew.” He lifted his voice, and when he spoke it was with both sides of his mouth. “Bitch.” Ivy laughed, and Harley rubbed absently at the red mark on her cheek.
“You sure enjoyed your little tiptoe through the tulips at the time, lover boy.” Harley sighed, and when she spoke her voice is not unkind, and more Quintzel than Quinn.
“Pammie, I know who he’s sleeping with. And having slept with them, I can tell you with total certainty that you wouldn’t make the flavor of the month club without some serious sex pollen.”
Ivy shrieked. Harvey and Two-Face laughed. Harley’s grin split her pretty face into a caricature. Somewhere further down the hall they can hear the Joker take up the laughter, and his ricochets wildly, blotting out Harvey in a mad choir of guffaws. Ivy is the only one who doesn’t falter and say a silent prayer to the shadow skirting Gotham’s rooftops that the Joker never leaves that cell.