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She got as far as “I want you to—” before her voice trailed off. Ivy looked down at Harley, sleeping with an arm slung over her stomach and sighed inwardly. Even when she was asleep, Ivy never had it in her to tell her the truth. She shifted to the side, placing a pillow underneath Harley’s arm in her stead before getting up from the bed. Another night of work it was.
Ivy hated giving any credit to any of the many pop psychologists who had tried to diagnose her, but she would give credence to the theory that she found plants easier to deal with than people. They knew exactly what they wanted and when they wanted it. And in turn, they knew what she wanted and how she was feeling without her having to self-reflect or attempt to verbally express it. Who could blame her for putting so much energy into a relationship where the communication was instantaneous and effortless? Plus, on the whole, whenever people did try to communicate with her, they never seemed to consider her even an equal. Not without expecting her to prove it, anyway. And Ivy was sick of proving it. Yet another reason plants were better than people.
She slid a slide into the microscope before throwing her hair up into a bun. It wouldn’t do to have her hair obscuring her vision while she tried to record the cellular effects of her newest acquisition. The toxin it produced was one she theorized would allow her to take the limits of her pheromone control to new heights and intensity. Perhaps it would even allow her to remove the Bat as an obstacle once and for—
“What did you want me to do, Ives?” Harley stood in the doorway, interrupting her line of thought, pillow still tucked under her arm.
Well, fuck. “I, uh. I wanted you to stop snoring.”
“Bullshit. How could I have heard ya if I was asleep? Besides, I don’t snore.”
Ivy glanced at the door, wondering if Harley would buy the excuse that she needed to go out and buy groceries at 3 in the morning, before setting her shoulders back and pulling the hair band out of her hair. She bit her lower lip and walked over to stand behind Harley, who raised her eyebrows, before leaning in to whisper, making sure her lips brushed against her ear. “I was thinking, I want you to water the plants tomorrow.”
Harley shivered, but when she turned to face Ivy, her face was composed. “But Red, ya already put that task on my google calendar. And on the list on the fridge. And on the chore whiteboard I begged ya to use. Though ya didn’t follow the color coding like I asked.”
Ivy frowned. “Even if we had enough markers for that, it’s unreasonable to expect me to write each letter of a word in a different color. And another reminder never hurt anyone.”
“Ya know ya can depend on me, right?”
“Can I?” The look of hurt on Harley’s face indicated that Ivy, in fact, had spoken her question out loud. This was not turning out to be a good night. She took a step back, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing her arms. “Face it Harls, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that by tomorrow you’ll be gone. Back to a bastard that would sooner break one of your ribs than ask you to move out of the way.”
“That’s not fair. I’ve been here almost a year now. What’s it gonna take to convince ya I’m here to stay?”
“I…” She sighed. Was there anything that Harley could do to convince her? Promise after promise, broken, time and time again. She would never really choose herself, no matter how many times Ivy tried to drill it into her head that she deserved better, that she was better. What was the point of hoping if it only made the inevitable vicious cycle that much more painful? She swallowed and looked away, throat suddenly tight.
“You do want me to stay, don’t ya?” The pillow hung from her hand by a corner, the rest trailing across the ground.
Yes. Tell her yes. Ivy looked away to a nearby flowering plant. There was no such thing as blue flowers, she knew. But in that moment, through blurring vision, the petals of the hydrangea almost seemed to be the same shade as the blue of Harley’s eyes. It gave her the strength to nod.
There was a soft thump and then Ivy was pulled into a hug, her chin coming to a rest on top of soft, blonde hair. She smells like strawberries, she noted, blinking fast and trying to stop the tears from flowing. They used the same shampoo, so how does she always smell like strawberries?
Harley pulled back and studied her. “You okay, Pam? I know winters are hard for ya.”
She nodded again.
“I promise I’ll water the plants tomorrow.”
She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
Harley took her by the arm and dragged her to a nearby couch, laying down and patting the area next to her. Upon Ivy’s hesitation, she patted the area more vehemently. “C’mon, ya need a hug and ya need to talk. And it’ll be easier for ya to tell me the truth of what’s really bothering you if ya aren’t looking at me.”
She laid down, and Harley wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her in as close as possible. “I want you to stay.”
“I got as much from the nod.”
Ivy half-turned over to narrow her eyes at her.
“Sorry, sorry. The doctor is in now. Speak as deeply and emotionally as ya want.”
She settled back down, pulling Harley’s arm closer around her. “No, Harley. You don’t get it. I want you to stay.”
“And what does staying mean ta you?” She ran her other hand through Ivy’s hair, massaging her scalp.
“I...I don’t know.”
“Pam.” Ivy resisted the urge to turn around and see what kind of face Harley was making. “Just be honest with me. Whateva it is, we can deal with it together.”
“It means this. And more than this too.”
“More than this?”
She spoke softly. “I’m just so tired all the time, Harls. And part of it’s the Winter, I know that. But part of it isn’t. I tied myself into knots over you and your relationship with that bastard. You would show up, half-bruised and more than half-dead and leave as soon as you were better, never even a goodbye. And I’d be left wondering whether that was the last time I saw you. What my last words to you would be. And whether I should have told you that I, well, it doesn’t matter.” Harley’s hand stopped its motions, but Ivy continued before she could interrupt. “And here I am, still tying myself up in knots because I don’t know how to stop, or maybe I just don’t know any better. All I know that is I want and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Look at me. Pamela. Look at me.”
Ivy rolled over and smiled weakly at her. “Good talk, huh?”
“First of all, ya know jokes are my thing. Second of all, you’re gonna hurt me. And I’m gonna hurt you. That’s just what living as people is. The important thing is that I know ya’d never do it on purpose. And I’d nevah hurt you on purpose either.” She shifted so she could cup Ivy’s face in her hands and her heart fluttered. “And stop tying yourself up. I don’t want ya to be anything more than what you are Red. Ya never asked me to be anything but myself. That’s all I want from you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Harley smiled, and Ivy melted a little bit. “And I’ll remind ya.”
“You’re a good doctor, Dr. Quinzel.”
“I know, but I’d like ta think I’m an even better friend. Although...Red?”
“Yes?”
“I need ya to know what my last words would be if I had the choice. Can I?”
Ivy frowned. As if she would allow Harley to die before she did, given the option. “Of course.”
She leaned in, pressing her forehead against hers. “I want you to stay too.”
Ivy could feel her breath on her lips. “Harley.”
And then they were kissing, and Ivy was losing herself in the smell of strawberries and the softness of her hair and wait—She pulled back. “I can’t do this if it’s going to be a one time thing. If you...If you still want him.”
She shook her head. “It might’ve taken me more than half a decade, but between you and my new therapist, I don’t think I’ll ever want his brand of crazy again. Not when I could have”
“If you’re going to call me crazy, I promise you that it will kill the mood.”
She laughed. “No, silly. I was going to say someone who actually cares about me.” “Someone,” she leaned in, punctuating every word with a kiss, “who supports me and looks damn good in a leafy one-piece.”
Ivy smiled and raised an eyebrow. “So, would you like to continue?”
“Nope.” She popped the p. “I’m not done validating you yet.”
Ivy propped herself up on her elbow. “Well, if you must.”
“Sure do. Anyways. Y’are not a one night stand to me. I want as many stands with ya as I can get. Night stands, music stands, stand-alone novels in a book series..”
“Harley.” She was not a patient woman.
“Yeah, yeah. What I’m tryna to get at, Red, is that I wanna treat ya as good as ya treat me. As friends if that’s what ya want, but, my feelings for you are more of the February candy and stuffed animal aisle variety.”
Ivy was pretty sure her smile covered up her blush at this point. “Harls, you’re ridiculous.”
“Hey!”
“I love you.”
Harley smirked, and wiggled her eyebrows. “As friends?”
Ivy leaned in again, cupping Harley’s face in her hands as she did so. “Can I kiss you?”
She nodded. “Love you too, by the way Pamm-mmph!”
Needless to say, in the future, Ivy would be sleeping a lot better. They both would.