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It was a quiet night in Gotham City, the usual busy nightlife notably absent after recent news of the Joker’s escape from Arkham Asylum. To live in Gotham, everyone had to accept some risk to their life, but by now there were very few people left that were willing to risk getting wrapped up in the homicidal clown’s twisted plans. The hired guns Joker employed were an exception, and exceptionally desperate, since no sane person would keep his company unless it was truly a last resort, and even then, it had become a commonly held belief that it was better to lose everything, up to and including your own life, than to suffer whatever cruel fate he found the most amusing to force onto you.
For Selina’s part, this reaction was a bit dramatic. Her utmost priority was keeping her heart beating for as long as possible, but a life without risk is no life at all, and she had grown rather fond of the philosophy that there was always a way out of a bad situation if you were clever enough. It was a shame most people were not.
All this to say, it did not impede on her plans for the night to hear that the Joker was free once again. She had seen this song and dance before and refused to be intimated by anything, certainly not a narcissistic clown with acid-burned skin and a truly distasteful purple suit.
The Cat silently moved across rooftops, eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. She would decide whether or not the Batman fit under that category when she saw him, but for now she had other things to focus on and really couldn’t be bothered with inconveniences (no matter how good they looked in kevlar).
There. Her eyes fixed on the apartment building she had been heading towards, jumping onto the fire escape with practiced ease. She made short work of the latched window, despite the brief moment of annoyance she felt towards Ivy for not having it unlocked like they had planned. The disgraced botanist had likely (correctly) assumed that Selina would have no trouble getting in either way and decided not to bother.
“Really, Pamela, there is such a thing as courtesy,” she called after closing the window behind her. There was no response in the darkened apartment. Frowning, Selina made her way into the main room, instantly spotting Ivy where she was sitting on the couch, hair blood-red in the shadows.
She took a seat in the chair opposite her, mouth opening to inquire about—
“The plan is off.”
Selina blinked in surprise at Ivy’s clipped response, gracefully crossing her legs in front of her. As she took in the other woman’s appearance further, she noticed the tension in her shoulders, stiff and wrong under her green coveralls (if she was wearing those, it meant she had come straight from gardening, smelling of sweat and earth and life. Selina knew that all she smelled of was stolen perfume and the Gotham smog that seemed to taint everyone in the city. Almost everyone). Gray light from a nearby window illuminated her pale face, ruby lips pressed together in an unhappy grimace. Selina instantly wanted to walk over and untwist her mouth with her own. She wanted to knead the stress out of her body and feel her melt under Selina’s firm hands.
“She’s not coming.”
Selina could hear the devastation in her voice, as hard as she tried to keep it concealed, and knew that this was more than Harley’s frustrating habit of changing plans last minute. It must’ve been, for Ivy to be as upset as she was. No one was more accepting of Harley Quinn’s chaotic spirit, more accommodating of her ever-changing whims, than Ivy.
“I’m sure this has nothing to do with a recent news development,” Selina said dryly, thoroughly unsurprised and therefore free of the disappointment that seemed to radiate from her companion.
Something broke in Ivy’s expression, body slumping forward as she held her head in her hands, her next words slightly muffled by her position; “I can’t believe she went back to him.”
Can’t you? Selina wanted to ask, but she held back the words for now. “Harley will do what she wants to do. She made her choice. And you’ll be here to catch her on the way back down.”
Ivy looked up, her voice suddenly angry. “No. Not this time. She’ll have to save herself because I’m not going through this again.”
I have never met two people so different from each other and yet so alike, Selina thought to herself. Harley and Ivy would repeat the same cycles, unaware of how they mirrored each other until something or someone broke. It was all Selina could do to hope that Ivy wouldn’t be that someone.
She cared for Harley, too, as a friend and colleague, and it hurt her deeply to see her run back to the man who caused her so much pain, but she had known Ivy longer, allowing for them to have a deeper friendship than the one she and Harley enjoyed. This is what she told herself, anyway, half-pretending that it wasn’t more about the delicate way her hair fell on her shoulders in soft crimson waves, or how her sharp green eyes seemed to hold the forest in their depths.
Selina stayed quiet, afraid that speaking might startle Ivy into silence, cause her to retreat back into the closely guarded fortress of her mind that refused Selina access, no matter how many bribes or words or kisses she offered.
“She swore to me that she was done with him. After what he did to her last time, I believed her. I thought maybe she had finally grown a spine and freed herself from his disgusting influence. But when she saw his face on the news again, I looked into her eyes and I knew. Even before she got the phone call from him, I knew she would leave again.” Her voice carried more emotion than Selina was used to hearing, and she had the awful realization that she had never before seen Ivy this vulnerable. Even gasping above her, naked and beautiful, she seemed unreachable. Selina felt a sudden rush of anger towards Harley, who had more knowledge of Ivy than anyone else, who smashed through Ivy’s walls like they were nothing, who enjoyed the company of her spirit in addition to her body, and somehow still preferred the clown.
The feeling melted away as she thought about the bruises so often blossoming on Harley’s paper-white skin, the desperation and anxiety in her voice when she pleaded with anyone who would listen that he really was a sweet man, he just had a temper like anyone, that he loved her no matter what everyone else said about it. All that was left for Selina to feel was an exhausted, bone-deep kind of pain that was only born by watching the people you care about repeatedly impale themselves on a knife for the sole purpose of being embraced by the one who wielded it.
It was a phenomenon she had grown too familiar with in the past few years and one that she struggled to look in the face. She didn’t understand it, not when she put herself before all others. It was something she took pride in, the ability to detach herself from any situation, to look at things objectively and prioritize her own wellbeing (except occasionally for men with sad eyes and brutal fists, or the underfed strays that lived in the dark alleys of Gotham, or the underfed children that lived in the same alleys).
Ivy met Selina’s eyes, taking her breath away for a moment, before something hardened in her gaze and she glanced away, closed off again. “Sorry our plan fell through, kitty, but I’m sure you can get your diamonds elsewhere.”
She could, of course, and she would have fun later racing across the rooftops with precious stones clutched in her hands and the Batman chasing after her. But bats were the furthest thing from her mind as she crossed the room to sit next to Ivy.
“I don’t care about that.”
“You don’t care about anything.”
Selina reached a gloved hand behind Ivy’s neck, fingers tangling in her hair and pulling her forward.
“You think so?” she murmured quietly. Her breath ghosted over Ivy’s face, just inches apart.
“I know so,” Ivy said, closing the gap between them in a gentle kiss.
They separated. “You don’t know anything about me,” Selina whispered, and moved her hand from Ivy’s hair to gentle cradle her face, thumb tracing a pattern across her cheek. “I don’t think we really know each other at all.”
Selina kissed her again, their lips drawn together as if magnetized. They fell into a familiar rhythm, pushing and pulling, a routine they knew well by now. It tasted like desperation, both trying to find something in each other that didn’t exist. Selina had the distant thought that if she knew Ivy any better, she might love her less.
Ivy’s hands reached up, pushing Selina’s cowl and goggles up and off her head. As they returned to each other, she felt Ivy’s lips smiling slightly against hers, and Selina leaned back to break the kiss, raising an eyebrow.
“Your hair’s sticking up in every direction,” Ivy said in amusement. “It’s cute. Like a disheveled alley cat.” Selina rolled her eyes. Good thing she knew exactly how to shut her up.