Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship {Flashback} | Harley & Ivy
The sound of screeching tyres on wet concrete was fast becoming familiar, never failing to add a thrill of excitement to an evening. The vehicle was not so much designed for speed - that much was obvious - but it held a certain charm that Ivy had been unable to resist. In retrospect, perhaps it wouldāve been wiser to have made a more subtle exit? If just one cop caught sight of their speedy retreat, then the secrecy game would be up.
But no; her other car was boring and besides, her side-career was most likely doomed anyway. The officers must have seen her lab coat - even they couldnāt possibly have beenĀ thatĀ unobservant - and all it would take was one word from a guard stating that āDr. Isleyā had been the last person to be seen on the premises. Or a quick look at the CCTV footage. Maybe something could be done about that.Ā
Of course, she could always blame the young woman sat next to her. Say it was a hostage situation or something. With Lillianās stellar record, the museum would surely take her word as that gospel truth.
Her impromptu companion seemed a little odd (then again, who isnāt?) but Ivy was reluctant to turn in someone who could potentially become a friend. It was therefore an easy decision to stick out her hand and introduce herself - eyes on the road at all time, of course. It would be a real disappointment to have come so far just to be taken out in a crash.
"Ivy. Pleased toā¦ errā¦ meet you." Then after a secondās deliberation: āOr Pamela, whichever you prefer.ā The blonde seemed to have given her a nickname already, but āRedā was keen to bury that one before it could catch on. The botanist had an unpleasant history with pet names, and she had never been able to get over those memories. Then again, maybe it would be good for her to uproot that particular fear.
It was getting late, her restless passenger intrigued her, and Ivyās heart was still pounding from the chase so she saw no reason not to accept the womanās proposal for a drink. Luckily, Isley had a spot in mind which wasnāt too far a stint. She also knew that the barman was not the type to ask questions ā business was business, after all.
"Donāt mention it." Thankfully the botanist still had plenty of samples left, so the trip hadnāt been a complete waste. She noted with dismay that the blonde had swung her shoes up to rest on the dashboard. Usually, being a certified neat-freak, the woman would have said something. However, the adrenaline still running running through her veins meant that for once she didnāt really care.Ā
"My pursuits are mostly scientific - emphasis on theĀ mostly -Ā so a detailed story probably wouldnāt be excessively interesting Iām afraid.ā She thought for a moment, swerving the wheel to the right and heading off down a narrower road. āAnd to be perfectly honestā¦ the amount of information I tell you is almost directly proportionate to the amount of alcohol that weāre about to consume.ā
Getaway car. Why hadnāt she thought of a freakinā getaway car?! Every detail of the evening, the break-in, the diamond, evading capture, various routes through tunnels and sewers, had been meticulously planned out. For someone with so much instability and whimsy, the saner parts of Harley reminded her that escaping from any caper unscathed was always a priority. She hadnāt much liked Arkham when she worked there. The thought of being thrown inside one of those padded sells and numbed for the rest of her life from the brain down caused a whirl of nausea to build in the pit of her stomach. Harley remembered the thrill sheād felt when Joker recounted his theft from one of the more prominent mob banks in the city. His big headline act. How he'd knocked down lackey after lackey, like bad little tin soldiers, before making a grand exit in a school bus of all things. It had been genius and yet somehow so simple. Understated. Him. That had been the purpose of this evening. To prove she was every bit as sneaky, accomplished, daring. Only sheād forgotten the freakinā getaway car. Of course. Always something. Glancing sidelong at her companion, trying not to stare, she chewed on the corner of her lower lip for a moment. Something about this whole situation, the generosity, didnāt seem quite right. This was clearly a dame who was in way over her head. Who had tried to play with the big boys and was losing, something Harley could empathize with only too well. According to the unspoken bonds of sorority, she really should offer to help. But there was an uneasiness in her gut, as though the beautiful botanist was en route to the GCPD, only to shove her out of the moving car right as they hit the sidewalk. āYa know, I look good in an awful lotta coloursā¦scapegoat isnāt one of āem.ā Swiveling in her seat so she faced Isley once more, Harley tilted her head to the side. āIf youāre thinkinā about pinninā your little oopsie with the alarm system back there on me, I wouldnāt do that. Not if you know whatās good for ya.ā It was a thinly veiled threat, but one Harley felt needed to be stated nevertheless. Had it not been for her new companion, she would have been in and out of the museum like a shadow. But noooo little Miss Red had to go setting things off. āI took down the camera system, yāknow. You hadnāt done that. Rookie mistake.ā As if she was something of a criminal mastermind. Ha, that was a joke. āMight be somethinā you wanna do in future. Just some friendly advice from one gal to another.ā Thatās when the hand came her way. Harley couldnāt help but grin. How civilized. Spitting on her palm, she slapped it against Ivyās, shaking vigorously. All threats, it seemed, were forgotten. āI can already tell weāre gonna be besties. May as well start with a good olā fashioned drink off. I say shots, to kick off the evening. Then we can get over all these formalities. Your story sounds like an interesting one and I wanna hear all about it.ā
