literature

Rose Red

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     She sat there, quietly, and watched him work.  She watched him flit from here to there, connecting different pieces of split wires to others attached to multiple explosives.  She watched his ever present grin widen when he would finish one section and then purse when he reached a new problem.  She watched him lick the edges of his scars as he always did.  She watched.

     And she was bored.
     
     Harley started to open her mouth, but quickly shut it as he glanced back to check on her, tilting his head to the side and staring at her through thick lashes and makeup.  
     
     "Are we having fun, Harley?" he asked darkly, a menacing sweetness in his tone.
     
     She put on the biggest smile possible, her cheeks starting to hurt.  He grinned at her and then went back to his work.  She inwardly sighed as she slowly let the smile deflate.
  
     She had been following him for a few months by this point.  At first, it had literally been "all fun and games;" they would go out night and day alike – wherever he wanted, of course – and would carry out different crimes that seemingly popped into his head out of thin air.  She admired the energy that always came along with the creativity and brilliance of his ideas.  He moved into her place, a ratty little apartment on the edge of Gotham.  It was out of the way and had an easy fire escape route to enter through the back window in case they were in a hurry.  Even though she went ahead and bought him a bed of his own and transformed her office into a room for him, he rarely slept, his ever watchful eyes shining with new prospects of teaching Gotham about "what really mattered."  But even with the stress and strain it had put on her, it was all worth it to see a true smile on his face with a job well done.

     Except, lately, things had been a little…different.  Rather than letting her help with some of the bigger things like he used to when first at home, he set her about doing minuscule jobs.  Like his laundry.  Granted, she loved that outfit, but if it was not just the right way he wanted it to be, he got very… upset.  He would ask her how she expected him to get the right message across to the imbeciles if his shirt was not neat?  or his jacket ripped?  How was a man supposed to see his own fearful reflection if his shoes were not shined?  He never yelled; he didn't have to.  His darkened, calm voice was just as frightening as his growl.  But as soon as she did whatever he asked, his grin would return and things would go back to normal.  Well, as "normal" as they could be.

     He had finished with the fuses and skipped over to her.  "Ready to light this candle?"

     She forced her playful grin back onto her lips and jumped off of the railing she had been sitting on.  "Let's give 'em a big show, Mistah J!"

     "Yes, let's."

     He sauntered over to the edge where the zip line was and hooked himself up.  Harley turned to take one last look at the setup when she suddenly heard a faint whoosh.  She swung around to see him walk off the edge with a smile, not even looking at her as he sang "Happy Birthday."  The beeping on the explosives behind her began to rapidly speed up.  Her eyes widened as she ran to the zip line, her hands shaking in her panic.  She could hardly still them enough to get the hook connected and she could already see him where he landed on the other building.  She cursed all the while, the beeps ringing in her ears as they continued to race.  Her fingers finally managed to get the clamp shut.  She pushed herself off.  The rush from the wind was practically deafening, but she could still hear the faint beeps as they heightened in pitch.  

     And then she saw the controller in his hand.  Even from well over a hundred feet away, she could make out the red painted grin as he held up the handmade devise, obviously pleased.  She tried yelling to him, but the wind fought against her voice.  He continued to dance around and wave at her as she flailed her arms, screaming.  She kept getting closer, and his eyes became more visible, the maniac shine behind them as he stopped and just stared at the red button.  Surely he wouldn't…

     She suddenly tumbled onto the roof, her hands immediately fighting to release her hook.  She laid there for a moment, shaking.  When she looked up, she found him staring down at her as if shewas insane.  He then shrugged and pressed the button.  The radio tower exploded and their "candle" was lit.

     "Home then?" he smiled at her.

     She fought to regain her breath, coughing every now and then.  It was a joke?  He let her believe he was just going to blow her up as well?  What would that have accomplished?  What did it matter?  He practically tried to kill her!  And for his own amusement!  

     But rather than letting out the pent up rage that she felt, she simple nodded and pushed herself up to her feet.  She started to walk away, but noticed he was still watching the flames.

     "It's quite lovely, don't you think?"

     The way he stared, a moth attracted to the burning light, melted her anger instantly.  That was the joy she loved.   

     She waited until he had had his fill before heading down the escape ladder, listening to him talk about why it was so important to blow up that tower.  They had just reached the bottom of the rungs when an alarm went off in the building beside them.  Harley turned and looked at him accusingly.

     "What?" he shrugged.  "I didn't do that."

     "Well, come on," she sighed, grabbing at his hand to pull him along.

     But before she could drag him one step, she felt her hand being ripped away from his.  She was suddenly pushed aside to the wall as someone broke apart their hands and kept running.

     "Hey, watch it!" Harley yelled angrily, reeling as she tried to see who the hell had shoved her.

     All she caught was a fleeting glimpse of bright red hair before the person was gone around the corner.  Harley grumbled angrily and turned to see how Mistah J was doing.  He brushed some of the dust off of his sleeves but seemed unharmed for the most part.

     "Well, that was…unexpected," he murmured.

     "Yeah, weird…" she agreed, starting to leave the alley.

     But after two steps, she stopped suddenly.  There, lying at her feet, was a rose.  A beautiful, lush red rose, probably one of the most perfect roses she had ever laid eyes on.  Almost instinctually, she picked it up and immediately brought it to her nose, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly.  She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling…wonderful.  Any tension she had felt for the past few minutes, hours, even days, just faded away with the simple scent from the rose.

     She heard him clear his throat and she looked at him and smiled sweetly, happily.  He stared back at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

     "…what?"

     "Oh, nothin'," she sighed dreamily.

     He kept staring at her, his expression slightly perturbed.  She agreed that her sudden change of mood was a bit odd, but, still, at least Mistah J was alright.  Looking handsome as ever…

     "Home?" she chimed as she started skipping forward.

     He nodded slowly, following a few steps behind her, cautiously.  

     Harley continued her cheerful mood, long after they reached the apartment, too.  She could not understand it anymore than he could.  Everything now had some little bit of magic, the dingy apartment suddenly a lavish hideaway in her mind.  The extra bed set up for Mistah J had such lush green sheets, while her bedding was a brilliant shade of red.  The kitchen, though small, had a browning Victorian print wallpaper that she was sure would look lovely if she just took the time to scrub it.  And the table had a simple clear vase in the center that needed that rose to put the finishing touches on the whole thing.

     She went around the apartment for about five minutes nonstop before turning to see him still staring at her.  His eyes were narrowed, contemplative and confused.

     "What'sa matta, silly?" she giggled, running over and swiftly kissing him on the cheek.  

     He recoiled slightly, shocked by the kiss.  Something was definitely amiss.

     "Harley…" he started slowly, interrupting her bouncing in and out of rooms.  "You seem…different."

     She stopped and looked at him, wearing probably the widest grin he had ever seen on her.  "Ya know, you're right, Mistah J.  I'm feelin'…happy."

     He licked his scars before pursing his lips, the wheels still trying to figure out what was happening here.  "I've noticed, Harl.  And is there any particular reason for that, do you suppose?"

     Her grin suddenly darkened a little as she stared at him more intensely.  "Ya know, I think it's you."

     He took a small step back, unsure by the tone.  "Me?"

     She giggled and sauntered over to him, leaving barely any room between them as she practically backed him into the wall.  "Yeah, you."

     And, without warning, she kissed him.  

     His eyes widened as her lips touched his, the motion of her mouth as well as her body leaning into his informing him that she wanted quite a bit of him.  He quickly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away, holding her in front of him as if she were something diseased.

     "What'sa matta, Mistah J?" she purred.  "Afraid of a kiss?"

     His eyes narrowed, almost angrily, as he grabbed her arms and lifted her off the ground.  He continued to hold her in front of him as he walked into her room and quickly dropped her on the bed.

     "Oh?" she laughed, excited.  "This where ya want me…?"

     "Yes," he replied curtly.

     And with that, he was outside the door, locking her in.

     ***
     
     Harley stretched across the bed, yawning as she finally woke up.  She lazily flipped over onto her stomach and noticed that she was still in her crime gear, her makeup smeared across the sleeve of her arm where she had slept on it.

     "Jeebus…" she groaned, slowly removing her tool belt.

     She rubbed her temples before getting up and slipping out of her costume and into more "normal" clothes.  She reached for the door and found it was still locked.

     "Hey, Mistah J," she called between her yawns, "can ya let me out now?"

     She pressed her ear to the door, listening for his footsteps.  

     Silence.

     "Mistah J…?  Mistah J!"

     She banged her fists against the door several times, continuing to yell.  After several minutes of it, she was fed up.  She leapt across the bed and grabbed her tool belt, rummaging through to find her lock picks.  Finding a suitable one, she leapt back across and set to work.  In mere seconds, the door swung wide open.

     "Mistah J!  What's the big id- !"

     Her voice died as she looked around the room.  It was empty.  The plans and maps that had been spread across the study table were gone.  The knives, the guns, the newspaper clippings, everything.  Everything was gone.  Everything that was him.  And he was gone.

     She stared blankly at the room, trying to comprehend its emptiness.  No, this could not be right.  He had just been there.  They had just blown up the tower.  They had…

     The images began to flood back and she remembered the kiss.  Kiss?  Why would she have done something so foolish?  She pushed her thoughts further and further back, trying to find something, anything that would have made her act that way.

     Rose.

     She whipped around to find that beautiful, perfect rose still in the vase she had put it in.

     "…ya…" she whispered, her whole body beginning to shake with anger.  "Ya damn rose!"

     She picked the vase up and flung it through her window.  She continued to breathe heavily, staring at the shattered window as if expecting the rose to somehow reappear just to plague her.  And then, she sank to the floor, her tears flooding her eyes and spilling everywhere.  What was wrong with her?  Perhaps she was crazy, too…  

     "…then why would he have left?" she wailed, digging her nails into her scalp.

     She curled up on the floor and simply lay there, crying.

     ***

     When she opened her eyes, she found a shadow looming over her.  It was dark, nighttime having already fallen.  Perhaps he had come back for dinner…

     She slowly stumbled to her feet only to be slapped harshly across the face.  She stood there in shock, before turning back the shadow, angrily.

     "What the hell was that for?"

     The light suddenly came on and she found a woman instead of her Mistah J.  She was a beautiful woman, with long red locks billowing down her shoulders.  She was wearing a green set of tight fitting cloth overall shorts that formed a bodice over the green tube top she wore under it.  Her thighs were bare until meeting a pair of knee high green Victorian styled boots that laced up the side.  Her nails were, not surprisingly, another vibrant shade of green as was her lipstick.

     Harley put a hand on her hip and snorted.  "And what the hell do ya think ya doin' in my apartment, ya demented Tinkabell?"

     The woman was suddenly in her face, barely an inch away.  Harley could smell her breath, a bittersweet odor filling her nose as the woman spoke, softly.

     "Did you throw my rose out a window?"

     Harley blinked several times, playing the woman's words over in her mind several times before speaking.  "…ya rose?"

     "Yes, my rose," she replied simply.

     "Um…yeah?"

     The blond was instantly berated with another slap across the face.

     "Jeebus!  What the hell is ya problem?"

     The woman reached behind and pulled something out of her back pocket.  She had her hands cupped together before showing Harley what she was holding.

     The rose.

     "This," the woman cooed, staring at the rose instead of the other girl, "is not just a rose.  This is a gift from the goddess of the earth.  This single rose contains the powers of Mother Nature within each precious petal."  She whipped her head up to stare angrily at Harley.  "And here you think you have the right to abuse such a wonderful creature!"

     Harley stared at her, eyes wide.  "…lady, ya nuts.  And I would know."

     The woman sighed, exasperated.  "You just don't understand.  Sit.  I'll inform you of the wonders."

     Harley watched her sit at the table, still holding the rose to her as if it were a child.  She stayed where she was, still trying to evaluate the woman, when her thoughts were interrupted by the same command.  

     "Sit."

     Harley did.

     "My name was Pamela Isley.  I –" the redhead began.

     "Was?"

     The piercing glare from the green eyes across the table instantly hushed Harley.

     "Yes, was," the woman hissed.  "I prefer not to go by that name any more.  It's not…suitable.  But that is beside the point.  I am going to educate you on the importance of this rose."  She held the rose out towards Harley.  "Smell."

     "Hell no," the other girl cringed, backing up in her chair.  

     The woman grinned.  "I have a feeling something happened last time you smelled this rose."

     "Yeah," Harley pouted, looking away.  "I went crazy.  Well, crazier than usual…"

     Harley heard her chuckle and could not help but notice how everything about this woman, her laugh, her smile, even her breath, was almost…seductive.

     "You see," the woman continued, "this rose is very special.  This particular rose has natural pheromones that-"

     "Phera-whats?"

     The green eyes closed as the redhead rubbed her temples, obviously trying to keep her temper.

     "Do you always interrupt?"

     Harley pursed her lips and snorted out her nose, but remained silent.

     "Pheromones," she replied rather pointedly, "are chemicals that react with the body and mind to make a subject more…desirable.  There is a sudden, unexplainable attraction, and it is very powerful.  Powerful enough to make someone lose control..."

     "So…it makes ya horny?"

     She laughed again.  "Yes, you could say that.  I discovered this rose while on an excursion.  You see, I'm a bota…well, I study plants.  I brought it back to my superiors at the lab so I could study its full potential.  Unfortunately…"

     Harley was amazed that even her angry tone had that same seduction to it.

     "…one of my superiors decided that I was no longer of use since he could easily get rich with such a "discovery."  I was fired from my job and the rose was taken to a factory where they were going to take it apart to find what composed the pheromones.  Obviously, I could not allow that to happen."

     The woman looked down at the rose, smiling gently.

     "But when I was making my escape from the factory, I ran into someone and dropped the rose in my haste."

     As she stared at the girl, Harley looked down, embarrassed.  "I can take a wild guess at who that was…"

     "Exactly.  Which is why I had to track you down.  But I'm sure you can understand now my…shock when I saw my rose lying in the middle of a pile of broken glass in an alley."

     "Yeah…" Harley nodded, biting her lip.  "Sorry 'bout that."

     The woman smiled kindly at her.

     "It's ok.  But I will have to ask what would have provoked you to do such a thing."

     And then Mistah J returned to Harley's thoughts.  She fought the tears, her face contorting.  But the longer she dwelled on him, on the last few months, on that morning, on being locked in her room, on his disappearance, the more the blood began to rush to her face.  

     "A man," she spat.

     The beautiful woman's eyes narrowed.  "…oh?  Well, my dear, men are…scoundrels.  And you know what?"

     Harley looked into the bright green eyes.  "What?"

     "We don't need them."

     Harley tilted her head.  "We…we don't?"

     "No, dear, we don't.  Men are the bane of this earth.  Men take what they want and leave the destruction in their wake.  Men think that everything belongs to them, including us.  But we are stronger than that.  We are women.  And we are the ones who should be in control so we can take care of our beautiful planet."

     "…yeah," Harley smiled, nodding eagerly.  "Yeah, ya right!  We should be in control!  Those lousy men can't tell us what to do!  We should do somethin' about it!"

     The woman's smile grew and it was probably the most beautiful smiles Harley had ever seen.  Perhaps even more beautiful than his…perhaps…

     "Well, dearest, we can."

     "We can?"  The blond jumped up out of her chair.  "Let's do it then!  Right now!  Let's go out!  Harley Quinn an'…"

     Harley stopped suddenly and stared at the woman still sitting calmly across the table.

     "So, if ya not goin' by ya real name, what are we gonna call ya?"

     The beautiful smile responded.

     "Poison Ivy."
Finally!!! Ok, so after some time I finally have the third installment for my Nolan-verse Batman fanfics surrounding the lovely Harley Quinn. If you haven't read the first two, don't worry. I've designed each story to stand alone as well as fit with the others.

Seeing as the Nolan version has a very realistic feel to it, I didn't want Ivy to have supernatural powers. Rather, I wanted to make her a bota...well, a woman who studies plants that had a grudge against her superiors as well as men. I always wanted to come up with a new outfit design for her. I feel that the one piece green bathing suit (while very hot) was overdone, and that taping ivy leaves to her was just too unconventional. When I have time, I'll try and sketch it up like I did my Harley design (which I also may change...)

Anyway, tell me what you think! I always love feedback! Especially since that is what encouraged me to write this one!

For those who haven't read the others, here you go:

Part one: [link]

Part two: [link]
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YvonnethePhoenix's avatar
I love it. I would like Harley and Joker to have more sexual tension. A lot more. I want part 4!!