Pamela Isley didn't look up as I entered her cell. She remained standing, eyes closed, breathing in the carbon dioxide gas in her chamber. It swirled around her, twisting and turning as if it were alive.
I sat at the desk to the left and pressed the intercom.
"Good afternoon, Pamela."
Her bright eyes snapped open and fixed upon me.
"Hello Harleen," she purred, walking over to the glass separating us.
"How are you today?" I asked. She sighed.
"Same as usual, barely living. I need my plants. And the amount of carbon dioxide they pump in here is choking; I'm still partly human, you know."
I got up and walked over to the chamber settings. I turned the carbon emissions down a little and the oxygen up. Pamela breathed deeply and smiled.
"That's better. Thank you Harleen."
I could see her more clearly now. She was dressed in a white jumpsuit which had been ripped to reveal her pea green arms and legs. Her ruby red hair flowed in waves down her back. She smiled at me with sincerity through the glass.
I took out the note from my pocket and held it up.
"I have something for you."
She pressed her head against the glass eagerly.
"What is it?"
"A note, a message. I think," I answered
"I don't need to guess who from."
She laughed lightly. It reminded me of windchimes.
"He must not want you reading it, otherwise he would have asked you to tell me yourseld. Could you get it to me?" she asked.
I headed to the opening where her food was passed through and slid it inside. She opened it quickly as I returned to my seat.
"Oh this is brilliant! I'm all excited now!" she chirped, her long lashes batting quickly. She tucked the paper into her jumpsuit and sat down on her bed.
"He busting you out too?" I asked.
I hoped he was, I liked Pamela.
"Spoilers," she hissed, giving me a sly smile, "so, are we going to have this session or not?"
I raised an eyebrow at her.
"You're in the mood for a chat now, are you?"I asked.
"Sure, why not," she replied.
Time seemed to fly past, and by 4 o'clock we had bonded surprisingly well. She had been a botanist from Seattle before she was poisoned. Her alias was Poison Ivy, and she liked to go by Ivy.
"I suppose I'd better be off, lots of paperwork to do," I sighed, getting up from the desk slowly.
"Well then Harley, until next time," she sang, dancing around her chamber.
She called me Harley. I assumed the Joker was behind that.
As I walked back to my office I pondered on what I was doing. I didn't want to be Harleen anymore. Laid back, gentle, worrying Harleen. I liked the confidence, the strength...the fun. I liked Harley much better. This was my new start, the new me. And I was drawn to him more than ever. His unique personality had intrigued me in the beginning, but looking at him now, there was so much more to it. He made me feel whole again, like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I wanted to keep that. I wanted him to escape, and I was going to help him no matter the consequences.
