Notes: (skip these if you like) This was originally a quick little bit of fluff for the darling Aithilin. I just came across it again a half hour ago and decided to share, lucky you. Unlike my usual pieces, this is all cuteness. If you enjoy it, feel free to bug me for more interludes of the Arkham sort.

"Home sweet home."

In her most lucid moments that's what she realised that Arkham was to her. She had spent so much time there on both sides of the cells. When she had been a doctor there she had barely ever left for more than eight hours. Her office had been plastered with rosarch blots, newspaper clippings, and strange abstract art. Just like the inside of her head.

Harley Quinn felt naked on this side of the wall, stripped of her greasepaint and harlequinade costume. Here she wore nothing more than what amounted to pajama pants and a loose white smock, just like every other woman in the cells of Arkham. But unlike her graceful cellmate, Harley couldn't make the outfit glamorous. Harley just looked like she was trying to play dress-ups with her grandfather's wardrobe.

Harley sighed, deeply and utterly depressed. She stared forlornly at Poison Ivy's perfectly sexy posterior; Ivy could even make smoothing down her sheets look sexy. Her long legs looked shapely even when encased in ugly grey pajama pants, the curve of her hips hugging close to the material of her smock, red hair tumbling down her back in wild waves...

"Harley, you're staring at my butt."

"What?" Shaken from her musings, Harley looked up guiltily, "no I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Ivy turned, hands on hips, regarding her cellmate with one of her perfect eyebrows perfectly arched.

"No I'm not," Harley insisted, even as her eyes were now drawn to the curve of Ivy's breasts, then Ivy's waist. Ivy had a waist. Harley had nothing but large amounts of white cotton.

"No," Ivy agreed, crossing her arms. "Now you're staring at my boobs."

Harley's mouth opened, then closed. She floundered a bit, trying to grasp what tact she had left. Harley failed, pouted, and couldn't help but whine; "Why are you so pretty!? It's not fair! I look like a big white sheet tried to eat me and you look like a model!"

For a moment or two Ivy just stared at her, a funny sort of look on her face. Harley had no way of knowing that the Rose of Arkham, the Poisoned Flower herself, happened to think that she looked completely and utterly adorable in her oversized 'sheet' and cute blonde pigtails. There was only one major reason that poison Ivy wasn't going to do anything about Harley's adorableness. That reason, while currently in solitary confinement, was still enough of a presence in her cellmate's mind that Ivy knew any advances she made would be ignored.

With that in mind, Ivy felt free to wander over across the room, lean down, and peck Harley's cheek... Keeping the poison in her lips to herself. "You look cute," she told Harley. "Don't ever change."

Ivy just hoped that the jester-girl wouldn't take that literally.