James Rosenberg was, in fact, working late at his office. Or rather, he had just finished enjoying a late-night rendezvous with his secretary, and was now reviewing the work she had done on his latest case before it went to trial the next day. She was a bright kid, he thought, puffing out a cigarette, as well as an attractive one – a cute little intern putting herself through law school, and willing to use her brains and her body to get the most out of her education. James predicted that she would go far with an attitude like that, and a willingness to do whatever it took to get ahead, after a little coaxing, of course.

He was interrupted from his reminiscing with a knock on his door. "Did you forget something, Chrissy?" he called, standing up to answer it with a smile. "Aside from forgetting to give me a goodnight kiss, of course…"

He trailed off as he opened the door to an attractive green-skinned woman. "You're not Chrissy," he said, frowning.

"No, I'm Poison Ivy," said the woman. "You might have heard of me."

"I have, of course," said James, nodding. "How can I help you, Miss Ivy? Are you looking for legal representation after your latest attack on Gotham today? Because I make it a point never to defend supercriminals. I can't in good conscience endorse your insane and immoral attacks on the innocent people of this city."

"How noble of you," sneered Ivy. "That must be what attracts Chrissy to you, huh? Your sense of honor and morality."

"Chrissy is my secretary, and an adult woman capable of making her own choices," retorted James.

"By adult you mean what, eighteen?" asked Ivy. "A barely legal adult, right? I saw her leave just now, and she couldn't be much older than that. God, I knew you were a creep, but I was secretly hoping you weren't that much of one. But I guess I always knew in my heart that you were."

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorted James. "We haven't met before, have we? I think I would have remembered," he added with a smile, trying out the charm offensive, which almost always worked with women. "I've seen you on the news, but your mugshot really doesn't do you justice."

"Oh my God, are you actually trying to flirt with me?" demanded Ivy. "You must think you're really hot stuff, despite your age. Catnip to the ladies, huh?"

"I can only judge from my experience," replied James, shrugging. "But I'm probably not to everyone's taste. Just most women's," he added.

"Cocky bastard too," sighed Ivy. "Jesus, he's exactly what I thought he'd be like, which is in many ways not a surprise, and yet still disappointing."

"You should let him go into full-blown sermonizing mode – then you'd be in for a real treat," spoke up a voice behind Ivy. "The morality lecture is always entertaining coming from a man like that."

James's eyes widened as he recognized Ivy's companion. "You!" he gasped.

"Yes, me," agreed Crane, stepping forward. "A man who neither forgives nor forgets insults given to him. Although how a man like you has the gall to criticize me is absolutely baffling to me."

"You actually think you're better than me?" asked James. "You're even more deluded than I thought, Crane! You're some washed up, desperate, criminal freak, and I'm a highly successful lawyer, hugely respected in my field and able to have any woman I want. I think I have every right to criticize a loser like you."

"No, you do not!" snapped Ivy. "You're worse than he could ever be, and the damage you have done is completely unforgivable!"

"Damage?" repeated James. "Getting some psychotic nutjob fired from his job?"

"This isn't about Johnny!" snapped Ivy. "This is about me, and my mother!"

"What are you talking about?" asked James. "What have I ever done to you or your mother?"

"My mother was Lillian Isley!" shouted Ivy.

James stared at her aghast. "Lillian?" he repeated. "Then you're…you're…"

"Pamela Isley," finished Ivy, nodding. "Your daughter."

"Pamela?" gasped James. "No. No, that's impossible…"

"Why? Because you think we'd just shrivel up and die after you abandoned us?" demanded Ivy. "You think you could just forget about us and that we'd disappear? That's not how life works, Dad," she sneered. "Sooner or later, you're going to have to face the consequences of your actions."

"Pamela, now…now listen," stammered James. "You have to understand…it was a difficult time…I was trying to start my career as a lawyer, and it was tricky…having a wife and child around…finding the time…and making connections..."

"I don't want excuses!" shouted Ivy. "I don't even want an apology, although any decent person would have offered me that first! But you're not a decent person, Dad, I've always known that even before I met you. Mom never spoke a bad word about you, but I always knew the kind of man you were. Selfish, conceited, not caring about anyone else but yourself and your ambitions. Happy to sacrifice other people to achieve your goals. Maybe I inherited that from you, after all. Maybe parents can influence a child even when they're not there, because I've certainly learned not to care about human beings, just like you. I guess I can thank you for that, and for giving me life, but that's about it. So thank you, Dad," she said, holding out her hand to summon her plants.

"Why don't you give her the speech about ethics and decency, Mr. Rosenberg?" asked Crane, holding up a small vial of fear toxin and then smashing it on the ground. "How they're so important to you and to society, how anybody who doesn't act in morally upright ways should be condemned and punished, how their lives should be completely destroyed. How bad people should be shunned and tormented without mercy. As the fair-minded man you claim to be, surely that applies to everyone who falls short of your precious morality, you disgusting hypocrite?"

"Pamela, please…I'm sorry…" stammered James, as the plant tightened around his throat.

"My name is Poison Ivy," murmured Ivy. "And you're not sorry. You're just hoping that saying that will spare your life. But this is the only way to really make people disappear. I won't make your mistake of forgetting and hoping they go away. I learned from you to finish what you start, one way or another, so it doesn't come back to bite you one day. Goodbye, Dad," she murmured, turning away and leaving the plant to finish its work.

"You're right, Pamela, that was fun," agreed Crane, as they left the office together. "I had my reservations about this date, but I've actually had a good time."

"Me too," agreed Ivy.

"May I walk you home?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Ivy glared at him. "That's benevolent sexism, you jerk!" she snapped. "I'll see myself home, like any strong, independent woman should, and I don't need a man's protection to feel safe!"

"Oh…of course…as you wish," stammered Crane as she stormed off. "Goodnight then." He sighed. "Just when you think we might actually start to get along, she goes back into crazy mode," he muttered. His phone rang at that moment, and he answered it. "Jervis, hello."

"Hello, how's the date?" asked Tetch.

"It's over – Ivy's gone home, and I'm heading back to ours now," said Crane. "But it was surprisingly enjoyable – we found out who her father was. Turns out he was an old enemy of mine, so Ivy and I murdered him."

"That sounds…delightful," said Tetch, slowly. "But I'm glad you're heading back – I hate being on my own here. I keep thinking those super-powered bullies are going to find out what we've done and hunt us down."

"I've told you, as long as you've hidden what we stole in a lead-lined box, it should be fine," said Crane. "Superman can't see through lead."

"How long do you think we'll have to wait until they stop hunting for it, and we can use the technology freely?" asked Tetch. "I'm just very excited to get to work on it, but at the same time fearful of being discovered."

"As Superman said, they have other things to worry about than alien contraband," said Crane. "After a preliminary search, they'll probably give up after a couple days. But for God's sake, whatever you do, leave the one that switches bodies alone."

"I will, I will," said Tetch, nodding as he discreetly slid the matter transposer back into his pocket. "Cross my heart and hope to lie…"

Ivy's phone rang on her walk back home, and she answered it. "Hi, Harley."

"Hi, Red, did you get the DNA test results yet?" asked Harley.

"I did, and the good news is, J isn't my dad," said Ivy.

"Well, that's a relief," sighed Harley.

"For both of us," agreed Ivy.

"I was worried the sample might not be good enough after it had been in my mouth," said Harley. "I was afraid I might have corrupted it or something."

"Why…did you have J's blood in your mouth?" asked Ivy, puzzled.

"Not his blood, Red, the other thing you asked for," giggled Harley. "I just didn't swallow like I usually do…"

"Oh my God, shut up right now!" exclaimed Ivy. "That's not an image anybody wants! Oh God!" she shouted, shutting her eyes to try and block out the scene. "As if today hasn't been disturbing enough!"

"Well, c'mon, Red, he'd been in the mood all morning, as you well know, but then he had to wait until we got our bodies back, and he was even more in the mood after causing chaos all afternoon, so after my parents left, it was really the least I could do for him," said Harley. "I told him it was for you, and he said he was happy to help you out..."

"I said shut up!" shrieked Ivy. "Oh God, and I've seen it now and everything!"

"Yep, you're a lucky gal," sighed Harley. "Not many people have seen it, unlike Batman's. Did you see those leaked photos of his manhood they printed? Suddenly all those fancy cars of his make sense, from a Freudian perspective. I blame Selina – she was probably pissed at him for some reason and sent the pictures of his Batawang to the media. Of course now they're trying to hush it up and censor it, but the damage has been done…"

"No, I haven't seen it, but now I need to to get J's out of my head," interrupted Ivy. "Thanks for the tip, Harley, goodnight," she said, hanging up the phone.

She entered her apartment, scrolling through some photos. "You're back early," commented Two-Face.

"I told you I would be - it wasn't even a real date," retorted Ivy, not looking up from her phone. "It was surprisingly all right though. You wanna see a picture of Batman's junk?"

"…no," said Two-Face, slowly. "Why do you even have that? It was a date with Scarecrow you had, right?"

"Yeah, I found these on the internet on the way home," said Ivy. "Harley told me about 'em – I hate to admit it, but J is bigger," she sighed. "So are you, of course," she added, kissing him.

"That's…good to know, I guess," said Two-Face. "If it ever comes up in conversation, which I am one hundred percent sure it won't."

"You never know with the freaks we deal with," sighed Ivy. "J will probably try and send a photo of his into the papers just to prove it's bigger, and Harley will try and stop him. Do you ever wish you could just unsee things, or forget things ever happened, like all of today?"

"Yeah," agreed Two-Face. "The hat guy's working on a memory wiping machine, right?"

"Maybe," said Ivy. "Johnny said they boosted a bunch of technology earlier, so hopefully there's a memory wipe thing among them. We should definitely prod him in that direction if he isn't working on it. I'd pay him a lotta money for it."

"I might," said Two-Face. "But the risk in that is that you might end up forgetting things you don't want to. I'd never want to forget how we met, for instance, even if it did end with you trying to kill me."

"Well, that's the best thing to do with lawyers," she murmured, smiling at him. "But you're such a romantic, I think I might let you live a little longer."

"Uh…thanks," said Two-Face, slowly, as Ivy kissed him again.

"Let's go to bed," she murmured. "I'm back in my own body, and it is telling me I've neglected it too long today. And I'm still feeling a little homicidal, and that always puts me in the mood."

"Why are you feeling homicidal?" asked Two-Face. "What exactly did you and Scarecrow do on your date?"

"Oh, you know, killed somebody," sighed Ivy. "Somebody completely unimportant and insignificant who should never have lived as long as he did, and who will not be mourned or missed. But I guess he did do one useful thing with his life after all. He made me."

"You killed your dad?" asked Two-Face. "So he's not J, I'm guessing."

"He is not, thank God," said Ivy. "He was a useless little lawyer called James Rosenberg."

"James Rosenberg?" repeated Two-Face. "I knew that guy when I was just starting out as a lawyer. Acted like a complete saint in the courtroom, but did some really sketchy things both personally and professionally. I remember thinking he was two-faced back when I met him, and now I'm gonna be paranoid that your attraction to me is because of some weird issues you have with your dad."

"Oh, Harvey, don't be stupid," said Ivy. "I didn't even know he was a two-faced lawyer until a couple hours ago. Anyway, like I said to Johnny, you're literally two-faced, but not figuratively. Not anymore, anyway. You're honest and sensitive and completely indecisive without your coin, the exact opposite of my father," she said, reaching into her pocket and handing him his coin back.

"Thank you," sighed Two-Face. "I know Harley was trying to help in her shrink way, but I don't think I'm ready to let go of this just yet. And you don't mind it, do you?"

"No, it's a cute quirk," said Ivy. "I mean, it can get annoying sometimes, but after the day I've had, it's a minor annoyance at best. Being put in somebody else's body and having to suffer their terrible life stuck with an idiot clown for a day really puts things in perspective. Now do you wanna go to bed or not?"

Two-Face flipped his coin. It landed bad side up. "I am right behind you, Pam," he said, following her into the bedroom.

The End