Title: Swing It Low: Chapter Five

Pairing: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Summary: A 'what-if' spin on the episode 'Harley and Ivy'. Kicked out by the Joker, Harley finds a friend, and possibly more, in Poison Ivy.

Rating: Mature.

Disclaimer: Characters © DC.

A/N: This chapter is quite explicit. So if you don't like graphic sex between two women, abandon all hope, ye who enter here. (No, please proceed, I insist!)

This has been my favorite chapter to write thus far. I hope you all enjoy it.

Also, I don't have a beta reader, so if you see any grammatical errors, please let me know, and I will correct them. I proofread my work countless times before I post, but there's always some that fall through the cracks!

Harley Quinn knew she was alive, because of the faint, dull pain in her left leg.

It was pleasantly surprising not be dead.

But she didn't want to open her baby blue eyes; she was so tired and drained. It would require too much energy to actually lift her eyelids. She shifted her weight. She was on the lush couch of Ivy's living room.

"Harley."

Yeah, that's me.

A soft sensation was dabbing her face; a washcloth.

"Open your eyes. Please."

"Mn." Was Harley's intellectual answer.

"I'm going to lift you forward, and I want you to drink this."

No thanks, Red.

She should have said it out loud, because she felt an arm move behind her, push her up into a sitting position and press a warm cup to her lips. She sucked it down as commanded. It was nothing but hot water and lemons, however it was the best thing Harley had tasted in what felt like years. She drank every last drop, and was then lowered back down. She felt her bangs flop into her face. She was missing her hood.

A hand settled on Harley's flat stomach.

She was engulfed by the sweet scent that was Poison Ivy, and she felt a silky strand of hair tickle the bare skin of her chest. She didn't need to open her eyes to know Ivy was leaning over her. She could also smell the perfume that had been misted along her jugular; it was stronger than it had been earlier.

"Do you remember what happen?"

Harley reached up and caught the piece of hair that was dancing on her sternum between her index finger and thumb. She wanted to feel the texture of it in her hand, but she still had her gloves on.

Well, let me see, Red. I got shot because you tripped another alarm. And the next time we go out, leave all the stealing to me, because you suck. And there was so much blood, I would apologize for the mess, but if your car is ruined, you only have yourself to blame. And I should be dead because my leg was just torn apart, and-

A horrifying through crossed Harley's mind.

"Do… I still have a leg?" She crocked out. Maybe that's why she wasn't in any pain.

"Open your eyes, and look."

Harley opened her eyes slightly, and her assumption was indeed correct about Poison Ivy. She was inches from Harley's face, her ruby hair forming a curtain over them. Her bright red lips were parted, and her breath smelled like peppermint. She made no motion to move away from the blond now that her eyes were open. Harley was glad, she really didn't want Ivy to move. She reached down and pressed her hand to her leg. It was tender, but it was entirely whole. "How?" She whispered with wonder.

Ivy finally moved away from Harley, the bit of hair that the blond had twirled around her finger, spiraled away gently. Her hand was lifted away from Harley's abdomen, leaving only a lingering warmth. Without Ivy obstructing her view, Harley pushed herself up a little with her elbow and looked down. The motley costume she wore was unzipped down to her navel. It would need to be retired, it's left leg ripped all the way up to her hip. There was no way to repair it, but Harley was not disappointed, because there was her smooth, creamy white leg. The only thing that looked off was a nasty purple bruise, right where there should have been nothing. It just didn't make sense! I saw chunks of my muscle splattered across the radio console!

She looked at Ivy, and then looked past her to the coffee table she was kneeling in front of. There was a washcloth with white and black makeup smudged on it, a syringe, and the same bottle that the botanist had out the first night Harley stayed. Her remedy for the toxic fumes that still resided in the air. But that's not all that it is, I'm sure of it. And before I blacked out, she mentioned something about 'the injection'. What has she put inside of me?

"You should be grateful, instead out looking at me like that."

Harley had been glaring at Ivy without even realizing it.

But she was just so pissed off.

"I'm not grateful to be used as an experiment by you. What the hell have you done to me?" Hissed Harley. Ivy had the nerve to look offended.

"Besides saving your life, I've been tolerating your bratty attitude."

"I am not a brat! It's totally your fault that I was almost killed! You're like the worst criminal I've ever met!" Spat Harley.

"That's because I'm not a criminal, I am a-"

"Shut up!"

Harley was now pushing herself up all the way. She felt terribly weak, but managed. Ivy raised her hands, like she wanted to help steady Harley, but the blond waved them away. She didn't want to be touched by anyone right now.

"I really don't understand why you're so angry, Harley."

The jester placed her feet on the ground, finally sitting up straight. Ivy had taken her boots off again.

"That's the problem! You really don't see anything wrong with lying about what you did to me!"

"I didn't lie to you, the antidote really does give you immunity against toxins!"

"It's just doing something else to me too! I told you not to use me!" But I said it too late, because she already had.

"Use you?" Ivy tossed her head back and laughed mockingly. "No, kid. I haven't used you, and what if I had? You should be in the custom of it by now, with how the Joker treats you! You dress like a jester —a fool— and that's what you are!"

Harley felt like she had just been sucker punched in the heart. That crossed the line, a line what was already carved into the tissue of Harley's deepest psyche. Ivy's statement only brought up a fear that Harley often refused to acknowledge.

And dammit, it hurt to hear the red head rub it in, because Harley actually liked Ivy so much that it hurt. But despite her feelings, she wasn't going to sit around and listen to this.

"I'm leaving." She stood and so did Ivy aggressively. Harley raised her hands, because if a fight were to be had, she was going to go down swinging, but Ivy grabbed her wrists, and pulled Harley's body against hers. "You're not going anywhere." Ivy whispered.

Harley tried to pull away from her, but it was no use, the damage from her injury had taken too much out of her and Ivy was strong, so much stronger then she looked. "Let me go!" She felt her heartrate starting to speed up, not from anger, but something else completely.

"I will not." Replied the red head casually. She kicked one of her heeled boots between Harley's feet just enough to make the blond loose her balance, and she toppled over onto the couch. Ivy fell with her, using leverage to pin her down. She still had one foot on the floor, but now straddled the blonde's waist. Harley's heart was pounding, not from fear, but from the uncomfortable tension that was between the two of them. She could feel the curvature of Ivy's ass right on her pelvis, and with her legs spread open, it was hard not to just look at her.

Harley was undeniable attracted to this woman, even with her lies and mean words, and she accepted it, right then and there. She was attracted to Poison Ivy, just like she was attracted to the Joker.

The older woman looked down at her, and Harley knew she felt it too, because she was breathing so deeply through her nose, that her breasts were heaving and about to spill out of the shimmering green corset that was doing everything it could to stay in place. Ivy leaned over her, hands still gripping her wrists, and pressed her entire body along Harley's, and dammit, she could feel every curve that Ivy possessed right against her own lean frame.

Ivy's hair curtained their faces once again, and she pressed her mouth against Harley's and whispered, "Stop acting like you want to leave. I've tried being sweet to you, but you want to fight every time. I know you want me." She skimmed her lips to the side of Harley's own, who was too dazed by the fact that Ivy had moved her leg from around Harley's waist and was nudging her legs apart, planting her knee firmly between the blonde's legs. "And for the record, no one can leave or resist me."

She removed her hand from Harley's right wrist and brought it to the back of her head, running leather clad fingers through thick golden hair, before gripping it and pulling back Harley's head, exposing the line of her neck. Harley gasped because at the same time Ivy grinded her knee right into Harley's twat.

Ivy ran her tongue across Harley's throat, leaving a wet trail to her chin and then slowly and methodically ran her nose to her ear, and started pressing her lips to the tender skin found there. Harley's breath was hitching and Ivy must have taken it as a cue to open her mouth and suck. Harley could feel her teeth starting to bite down. "Red!"

Ivy released her skin with a wet pop.

"Be quiet, Harley. I don't want to hear your smart ass little mouth right now. Now kiss me."

Ivy brought her mouth to Harley's lips, not stopping for even a moment before she pushed her tongue into the jester's mouth and moaned into it.

Blood was rushing into Harley's ears. Her brain was shutting down, instinct driving only a focus of primal lust. Ivy's kiss was powerful and overwhelming, just like her presence. Her intoxicating smell was flooding Harley's nose, and she could only tilt her head and move her own tongue into the other woman's mouth, felt compelled to do so. Her desire was so strong, taking root in her veins and blossoming in her over excited nerves. She wrapped her arms around Ivy's small waist and tried to move their bodies closer, if it was even possible. The reward for doing so was Ivy once again pushing her knee into Harley's vulva, which the blond arched up to meet with enthusiasm.

Ivy broke the kiss, and Harley mourned the loss of it, but looking up at Ivy was thrilling. There must have been left over black lipstick on her mouth, because now it was smeared right across Ivy's plump lips. It was a terribly arousing sight for Harley and she unknowingly sighed.

"I know how much you're liking this." Commented Ivy, her voice going husky.

A lustful moan escaped from Harley's mouth and she brought her hand to her face, only to have Ivy grab it. She held eye contact with her while she brought one of Harley's fingertips to her mouth and slowly, pulled her glove off with perfect teeth. She didn't let Harley's hand go, and guided it over her own soft face, down to her décolletage and to one of her perfect tits, and squeezed her hand into Harley's, encouraging her to mimic the motion. The blond could feel her hard nipple through the bodice and needed no encouragement to pinch it. Ivy moaned low in her throat, approving the gesture. She left Harley's hand there and pulled her other glove off, and nipped at her bare palm. She gripped Harley's hair once more time and then slid it underneath the blond girl's already unzipped costume, fingers roaming around the tight material.

Harley bent her body to the contact, wanting the red head to touch everything. She hadn't taken her own leather gloves off, and the friction felt breathtaking against the blonde's supple skin. Harley tossed her head back, getting lost in the sensation of Ivy's hands that were moving against her breasts, her right nipple caught in between Ivy's index and middle finger.

Ivy's other hand now joined it's mate inside of Harley's costume, and gave her left breast a small squeeze, before stripping the piece of clothing off her shoulders, exposing her to the air. Ivy worked her out of the arms and peeled the black and red bodysuit right below her hips. She took Harley's hands once again and rested them on her own hips. She gazed at Harley, and the blond felt her cheeks turn pink for the first time during their exchange.

She had nothing to be ashamed about. Her bosom wasn't quite as large as the red head's, but her tits were perky, with perfectly symmetrical pale pink nipples. Her body was fit with a small waist, full hips and slender legs. She also knew she had an ass to die for; years of gymnastics paying off in spades.

"I could just eat you up, Harley."

She proved it by kissing Harley again, sucking the blonde's tongue out of her mouth. Harley met the kiss, tangling it with Ivy's own tongue. She was once again shocked at how stimulating it was, just having the red head's lips against hers. She never realized that her lips could be so connected to her clit, but with each caress, each stroke of Ivy's tongue, Harley could feel a throb centered right at that very spot. They traded slow, wet kisses, before Ivy broke away from her mouth again, a glistening line of saliva bridging their lips. Ivy trailed small pecks down to one of Harley's nipples and kissed it softly, once again massaging her leg into the blond.

Too much pressure was building, and she swore she was going to just burst if Ivy kept doing that.

"Red, I'm gonna-"

"Oh, you can't come yet." Whispered Ivy against her nipple, and then caught it in her teeth and drew it into mouth. One of her hands was burning a line down her abdomen, Harley felt it pause right where her skin and costume met, and she realized that she had buried her own hands into her flaxen tresses, and was moaning with a wonton abandon. "Please!"

Ivy was smiling, Harley's nipple still betwixt her teeth, but the blond could feel the movement. Ivy's hand dove past the barrier of latex, past the thin line of curls, and slid right against Harley's clit, her middle finger undulating against it, while her index and ring finger spread her apart, like a flower.

"You're so wet. I can feel it through my gloves." Sighed Ivy. Harley tried to ignore her comment. She knew she was absolutely soaked. She could feel the fabric of her costume slide against her labia every time she bellowed onto Ivy's knee. The red head was moving her middle finger in tight circles now, and buried her face into the curve of Harley's neck. She was nipping at her skin, the pain an enticing contrast to the pleasure.

Ivy's digit went lower and one finger glided into her body with ease. She hooked her finger up and moved it in a rapid succession, pressing against something so sweet in Harley's body and it made the blond want to cry in pleasure. She was on the verge of wonderful, satisfying orgasm.

And then Ivy removed her hand and her mouth. Harley felt like she wanted to cry, but Ivy wasn't leaving her, not entirely, she was getting off Harley only so she could pull the rest of the jester's attire off. She tossed it nonchalantly in a corner, near one of her many plants. Without saying a word, she crawled back on to the couch, serpentine in grace, face moving down, arched back high. Harley could see the swell of her ass, the low dip of her bodice revealing toned shoulder blades. Ivy gripped Harley's knees and spread them apart, revealing her to fully dilated emerald eyes.

"So in bloom for me." Beads of sweat were dotting Ivy's smooth forehead. She hadn't made a move to undo any of her clothing, but Harley quivered none the less, not with shame or embarrassment, but the total feeling of domination that was radiating off the red head. Harley was elated to submit to her.

Ivy slid her hands down Harley's legs, carefully past the bruise, but pulling her hips up and leaned forward. She kissed her wet inner tights, so close to her quim and the blond shut her eyes, waiting and wanting with every fiber of her being. Just do it!

"Look at me."

Harley did was she was told and looked down between her rapidly rising and falling breasts, firm stomach, to Ivy who had her legs in a death grip and whose face right above her pink flesh. Ivy's eyes smoldered into hers. Harley didn't turn away or even blink as Ivy opened her enviable mouth, licked her bottom lip and flicked her tongue right into the blonde's moist opening, up to her clitoral hood. She withdrew her mouth and smiled down at her trembling handy work for a second and then resumed, the tip of her tongue like a dart against Harley's clit.

The blond wanted so badly to push herself closer to Ivy's mouth, but the other woman's hands held her hips down. She did take sympathy on the jester however, reaching underneath Harley to grip her ass and lifted to angle her body higher, and thrust her tongue into the slippery skin, going so deep that when she pulled away, her lips were glistening like she had gloss on.

Harley felt like a tightly woven cord about to snap. She couldn't control the shudder that had taken over her entire being. She was so close and needed Ivy to continue, to bring her over the edge, because surely she would go further into insanity if the red head didn't keep eating her out.

As if Ivy sensed the inevitable, she released Harley's ass, and moved her hand to the back of her knee, pushing it forward, and positioned Harley's other leg over her shoulder, somehow spreading her further apart. Ivy returned Harley's clit, licking at it hard and steady, until the blonde's toes curled and she pushed Ivy's head forward with both hands, tangling her fingers into crimson locks.

She came, hard, when she felt two fingers plunge inside of her, and move with complimentary rhythm to the tongue which was assaulting her clitoris. "Red!"

Ivy pressed her wet mouth to Harley's, the blond tasting herself all over the others lips and tongue; it was sweet. She then brought the two, dripping fingers up and glided them across Harley's lips, dragging them down to her chin before leaving her face entirely, to grip her jaw.

She kept pressing small kisses around her cheeks, while Harley rode out the ripples of orgasm, until she could breathe through her nose, and stopping gasping.

Ivy finally got up from Harley's spread legs, the heat that was between them all the more apparent now that Ivy had moved. A chill crept over her naked body. She brought her legs together, and was preparing to settle into a nap, her brain not ready to process what happened, but Ivy pulled her up to her feet. She was guided to the master bedroom, not taking in the details of the decor, her brain hazy and on autopilot.

She climbed into Ivy's bed, plopped down on the plush comforter, and wiggled herself into the silky sheets. Harley closed her eyes, ignored the rustling of clothing and the cool air of covers being lifted away. Ivy's warm body was laying next to her.

Should I say anything? Do anything?

"Red…" Started Harley.

Ivy touched Harley's hand under the covers.

"Just go to sleep, Harley. We can talk later."

Harley dozed off.

Harley's slept well for a few hours, but a nagging feeling woke her up. She didn't go back to sleep, and glanced over to Ivy, sensual even in slumber. She was on her side, the sheet gathered around her hips. She was nude— voluptuous breasts bare, and even in the dim room, Harley could see how flawless her body was, a body that had been intimately exploring hers only hours ago.

The memory of their encounter, stirred up excitement in Harley.

But the unfamiliar feelings of guilt and confusion crept in.

She thought about the last few days, everything that had brought her to this moment.

She missed the Joker, wanted to hear his voice, but didn't want to go to him.

She didn't want to leave Poison Ivy, but still had no clue as to what concoction was flowing through her bloodstream, or Ivy's intentions.

She loved the Joker.

But Ivy was…

Well, what are we now, friends or lovers? Nothing at all? I just want to talk to someone… who can I go too?

She remembered the episode of Gotham Live from a few nights ago, although it seemed like countless years in the past.

She knew who was out of Arkham Asylum.

Jonathan Crane would know plenty about chemistry and maybe Crane and Isley crossed paths with each other at Gotham University.

Would it be a betrayal to go to Professor Crane for insight about Ivy?

Harley didn't really think so.

Harley unwrapped the covers from her body, gently as to not disturb the other woman. She walked with soft footing to her room, grabbed the frayed jean shorts and stolen white V-neck shirt. She vaguely hoped it was thick enough; she didn't have a bra.

She quickly took a shower, investigating her leg up close. The bruise was starting to go yellow around the edge. She rubbed it gently, afraid that it might still just fall off. It didn't.

Harley got out of the shower and pinned her wet hair into a messy bun. The shirt was thick enough, just barley. The shorts were cut short, long enough to cover her ass, but show off her slim legs. Harley walked back to her room, sitting down on her unmade bed to lace up the low top Chuck Taylor's.

Grabbing the keys to the motorcycle, and a few twenties from the wad of cash in her bag, Harley stepped into the hot, blinding day.

End Part Five.