The Substitute Sitter

(I originally posted this on The Tarot of Sneezing around 1998 if I remember correctly. If you Google the title, it's STILL the #1 entry! LOL )

"No, I understand… No you shouldn't go out if you're not feeling well… No don't worry, next week then… I'll call you later. Bye."

Kirsten hung up the phone. She could not believe it. After a pop quiz in pre-calc, which she bombed, she didn't make the volleyball team and on top of all that the only fun she was going to have this weekend, thanks to the term paper due on Tuesday and college essays that aren't going to write themselves, just canceled on her. Well, to be precise, he called in sick. So she reclined back on her bed, put her glasses on the nightstand and tried to relax for a few minutes and make her long day at school simply fade away. This state of forced bliss would not last long.

"Kirsten?" Her mother called.

"Yes?"

"Your sister promised the McCarthy's she'd watch Timmy for them tonight, but she won't be able to go. Are you free tonight?"

"I am now. John canceled."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had plans."

"Like I said - I'm free now. Who are the McCarthy's anyway?"

"They live over on Avalon, I don't think you've met them. Sarah was sitting for them for the first time tonight but she had to cancel."

"Why?"

"Oh, uh... She has a date."

To add insult to injury, a perfectly miserable week was now going to end by here filling in for her sister, baby-sitting of all things, for someone she never met, while her kid sister goes out on a date!

"What time?"

"Seven."

Great. Well, as this was a perfectly bad day, she thought things can only get better.

Well, she was wrong. She ended up falling asleep, and didn't wake until 6:45. Her parents had gone out for the night, leaving a note saying not to oversleep.

"Well, that's handy." She thought.

So she grabbed her glasses and books and went to the garage to get her bike; not that it was easy task. She hadn't ridden it in the year and a half since she got her license so it was buried under a pile of junk. It was 6:50. Her parents had the car. She was late.

"Avalon...Avalon..." She pedaled down Kennedy Street looking for her destination. The wind was blowing, but it was warm and the late April weather had been delightful. That was a mixed blessing however, since she was allergic to at least three kinds of pollen that were in bloom this time of year, and though she normally got shots, her allergist had to leave town on a family emergency and rescheduled her appointment until next week. The over-the-counter stuff she had been taking in the meantime was barely half as effective, and in her rush she'd forgotten to take any at all. Her nose had been running all day and right now it was on fire.

"ah...Ahh...AHHH... ... ... ah."

There were three reasons she did not want to sneeze right now. (BEGIN sneezing might be a more accurate way of putting it.) First, she had no tissues. Second, she was riding a bike and carrying books, which gave her no free hands. And third, she had her glasses on and one of her allergy-season sneezes would get them all spotted up and since, as she already thought, she had neither a tissue nor free hands, she wouldn't be able to clean them.

The wind kept up and she had to really concentrate to keep from sneezing the entire fifteen minute ride over. She just wanted to get inside a nice air-conditioned house so she could apologize for being late without a gigantic sneezing fit taking control of her.

She finally got to the house. It was a split-level ranch with dark wood trim and gray stone walls. It had large windows in the front, and was landscaped beautifully. Of course the flower beds in front of the house seemed to be bothering her nose even more. She walked up to door, rang the bell and waited.

"Come on... ah... let me..ee..ah...ah...Ah...in... ... ah..ah-CHOOO ... AH-choo! Dammit!"

She always sneezed twice when she did, and her allergy attacks rarely stooped at two. And sure enough, she dropped her books, and got her glasses spotty.

"Oh damn... ah... ah...-CHOO! AH-choo! Come on open uh ... ahh ... AHCHOOO! AHCHOO! up!"

On the last sneeze, something on the ground caught her eye. It was a yellow Post-It note than had, at one point, been stuck to the door. She picked it up and fortunately her glasses were still clear enough for her to read it:

"Sarah,
Timmy will be home from Karate at eight. The key is in the planter on the right. Make yourself at home. We should be back by ten. Good Luck,
Amanda."

"Thank you Amanda ... ah ... Oh God ... ah ... Aah ... AH-choo ... AAH-choo ... Aah - Huh-choo ... huhchoo."

OK simple solution, she thought. Five steps: Find the key, get inside, find some tissues, blow nose, clean glasses. The key was not however in the planter on the right, or the one on the left. And she seemed to be bothered even more by the contents of both. And her nearly unbearable sneezing fit was not making the search any easier. The key was in fact under the welcome mat. She went inside.

The kitchen was big for a house this size, and she found a quarter-filled box of tissues on the shelf, by the phone. She blew her nose and cleaned of her glasses, but the tickle in her nose had not gone away. She could breathe again, but her nose and sinuses still felt like they were crawling with ants. That was not unusual though, the attack would get worse and then subside and she'd be able to breathe again without her allergies waging war on her. It didn't get worse however, and she didn't sneeze, but the tickle stayed. She thought she'd call John and see how he was holding up.

"Heddoh?"

"Still stuffy huh?"

"Yeah, feelig bedder, doh."

"You don't sound any better."

"You don sound so good yourself."

"No my allergies acted up on the way oh ... over... AH-choo...

"Bless you"

"AAH-choo... Excuse me! Must have taken in more pollen than I thought" She said as she went for another tissue.

"Well, I'm sorry again about canceling tonight. I thought next week we'd..."

But she didn't catch any of what he was about to say. "Wait ... ah-AHCOO! Hold on I ah... AH... AHSHOO! I can't hear yoo... ooh... ah... ACSHOO! Oh my god! Aaah-choo. What's going on?"

"You sound worse than usual. I thought you were getting shots."

"I waah ... waa ... WHAACHOO. was. Long story. ah... AH... Oh my god! I gotta go." She now knew what the source of this attack was, and it wasn't the pollen blowing around outside. It was the Siamese cat that just walked into the kitchen.

"Oh no!" she thought, as her sneezing escalated. Usually at a time like this she would talk to herself, saying whatever she was thinking. She often told people it made for more intelligent conversation that way. Right now thought she couldn't talk. She sneezed over and over, the whole time thinking, "Why didn't they mention they had a CAT!?" Then it dawned on her: Her kid sister Sarah was supposed to be here! Kirsten had never even MET the McCarthy's! And for a crowning example of how unfair life was, Kirsten was not allergic to ANYTHING! She was also so self-absorbed that she probably never thought to mention it to Mom.

"AaaShooo! Oh! I'm gonna ... ah ASCHOO! kill ... he ... ha ... ah... ACHOO! Kill her!"

So she went into the next room. And, pacing, tried to figure a way out of this one.

"Mom and Dad are ou... ou... ah... ASHOO! out.... Well I guess I can stick it out until eight and just explain that I can't staaa.... Aah-choo!"

The Siamese was gone, so she went back into the kitchen to get another tissue.

"Oh CRAP!" It was the last one. She ran into the nearest bathroom.

Her sneezing fit finally subsided. She blew her nose several times with some toilet paper. "Cheapskates," she thought. They didn't even use two-ply. She looked in the mirror. Her hair was a little tussled, no big deal, but her nose was red as punch and her eyes looked like rivers. She cleaned her self up as well as she could and got another idea.

"There must be some kind of medication around here..." She said to herself, having gotten her voice and breath back. She started to inventory the medicine cabinet.

"Q-Tips, Dental Floss, spare toothbrush, foot powder, K-Y ... yuck ... contact lens solution, a dixie-cup with make-up brushes in it, and a half-empty tube of tooth paste." Rolled neatly from the bottom, she noticed.

"Nothing. Damn. Well, maybe in the kitchen."

So she took to tearing through the cabinets, finding nothing but dishes. The one odds-and-ends cabinet she found took longer to inventory than the medicine chest. So much of her attention was in the cabinet that she didn't not the Siamese until it began rubbing it's head on her calf. It purred as she began to sneeze.

"Ah-CHOO! Go away ... ay ... ah ... ah-CHOOO!"

She gave it a little nudge and it took the hint. It was about 7:45 when the front doorbell rang. FINALLY. She could introduce herself, explain the situation and go HOME.

She opened the door and was more than a little disappointed. A little kid of maybe eight was waiting in a sweaty Karate Gi. A white LeBarons was pulling out of the driveway and pulling away. They just dropped him off. Damn.

"Are you Sarah?"

"No" She said, holding a finger to her already tickling nose. "I'm Kirsten."

"Oh. You look like Sarah, but you look different."

Thanks for that piquant observation she thought, the tickle building into that creepy-crawly feeling again. "I'm her sis ... ah... ster. She couldn't make it after aaa... ACHOO! ACHOO!"

"Bless you! Oh well, I guess that's OK."

"Great." She thought. "Just what I need right now. Approval to stay, from an eight-year-old."

All in all, Timmy didn't seem that bad. Cute kid. Sort of like that one from Jerry Maguire. What was his name? Lipnicke? But without the glasses. Hers were so spotty, and she could barely remember where she left them. Yeah, he seemed like a good kid. Very smart, but with a look of mischief in spite of his superb manners. Despite the occasional appearance of the Siamese, whose name she found out was "Mao," her sneezing subsided a little. Although her condition was far from GOOD.

"Do you have a cold?"

"No it's my all... all... ah... hang on... ahahah... ACHOO! ACHOO! My allergies."

"What are they?"

"I'm allergic to the ca... ahh... the ca... cahh... MAO! ah-choo... ah-CHOO... AH-CHOO... ah-CHOO."

"What does that mean?"

"It MEANS, that when I get near the ca... ca... cat. His fur and hair and stuff makes ... ah ... me ... ah.... sneeze... ah... ACHOO! ACHOO!" Talking about it made it impossible for her to keep her mind of it, and that made it worse.

"OOOOH! So when the cat is around, his fur makes you sneeze!"

"Yeah, very... very... ah... AAHH... ah. Very good."

"Oh. OK." He then got up and went into the kitchen. Kirsten laid back down on the couch, found her glasses, and started to read up for Monday's history class. Not only did she not get far, she also couldn't believe what happened next. Timmy had gone into the kitchen and gotten the cat. He brought it back into the living room snuck up behind her and dropped it right on her face. The result was explosive and he ran away, laughing.

"AAAAH-CHOOOO!! You little ... ah... ACHOO! ACHOO! BRAT!" She tried to get up but was paralyzed by a fit of uncontrollable sneezing. She had been trying to hold them back all night, and having a shedding Siamese thrown on her face was the anvil that broke the camel's back. And to make it worse the cat seems to be enjoying it! It purred to whole time it made her sneeze.

She chased him up the stairs, he laughed, she sneezed. She dragged him downstairs and sat him down at the table. "Don't do that! Now you're going to finish your homework and then go to bed! Understood?"

"Yeah." The boy mumbled.

Not that she was having a very productive time herself, but at least the cat had gone away for awhile and the terrible sneezing attacks subsided. She was reading a relatively interesting history chapter about Lewis and Clark, and had become completely engrossed in it. Timmy on the other had quickly lost interest in the multiplication problems he was doing and, unbeknownst to Kirsten, was getting bored very fast.

She was not paying attention however until she started to sneeze again. Figuring the cat was nearby she looked around and could not believe her watery eyes: Timmy had the cat up on the table and was rubbing it on the sides with his hands in a quick repeating upwards motion causing huge amounts of hair and dander to fly into the air. She went to say something and couldn't even start.

"AAH-schoo! AAH-schoo! Sto... Sto... aah... AHCHOO! Stop thah... ah… ACHOO! ACHOO! STOP THAT! ACHOO! AH-CHOO!."

Again he ran away, when she finally caught him, and stopped sneezing, her patience was used up.

"BED!"

With Timmy in bed, much earlier than most of the kids she USED to baby-sit, she went into the bathroom. In addition to actually having to go to the bathroom, it was the only room in the house that the cat apparently stayed out of. By now it was just past 9:30 and she was glad that they were almost back. She finished up and to her dismay used to last of the toilet paper. She looked under the sink, finding none. And she still needed to blow her nose. She went into the hall, the tickling feeling coming back almost at once, and opened the linen closet.

"Damn! None... ah... Aah... AAH... .... ah."

Back in the bathroom, it was now time to improvise. Her nose was really running now. She looked under the sink and felt out of luck, until she stumbled across a full box of Maxi Pads, thins no less.

"Of all the... That is should come to this!"

She got one out, and blew her nose. She disposed of the item and went downstairs. There was a message on the phone – they must have called while she was in the bathroom. What's more, that annoying tickle was back. She pressed play, it was Mrs. McCarthy

"Hi Sarah! Listen, we're running a little late so we won't be home until 11:00. See you then! Thanks!"

She was stunned. It was now 9:45 and she could've sat on a spike, holding a heavy suitcase on her lap for 15 minutes, but an hour and fifteen minutes? With no tissues, no toilet paper and a limited supply of other sundry items? Well at least that little brat was in bed.

By the time 11:30 rolled around the McCarthy's came home. They were surprised to see Kirsten and even more surprised by the state she was in. And they didn't even see the sleeves of her shirt, which had doubled as hankies for the last 45 minutes. They drove her home, and she got such a good tip that she didn't have the heart to tell them about Timmy, but she figured that Sarah could deal with him on her own next tim

Girls Knight in Gotham

Fandom: Batman
Originally Posted: 9/7/11
All Characters property of DC Comics

(NOTE: I'm going to re-post this at a later time, after all of my older stuff has been put up.)

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It took Harley Quinn a few minutes to make her way through the poorly lit corridors of the abandoned industrial complex, to the basement storage facility where the Joker was hiding out.

"You wanted to see me, boss?"

"Yeeeeeesssss, Harley, come in! Sit down!" There were no chairs, other than the one the Joker occupied behind an ornate desk that looked out of place in the otherwise spartan abode. "Have you heard? Crime doesn't pay!"

Harley chuckled a bit. "Yeah, boss, I've heard that."

"Well… lately, it seems… crime hasn't paid much at all. Resources are thin, profits are down, and the long term industry trends are simply not favorable…"

"Are you firing me, boss?" Harley was nervous. The Joker meant far more to her than mere employment.

"No, no, NO, my dear! On the contrary… I want you to do a job for me! And a rather important one at that! One that will pay the rent, give us a few laughs, and possibly have the entire world eating out of our hands!" As he said this, he got up from behind the desk and adjusted the ruff on the neck of her costume.

"Oh boy, thank God for that!" her relief was genuine. And as it was, she was beginning to wonder how long they were going to be hiding out in factory basements. "So what's the job?"

"The black diamond!" his eyes opened wide as he said it.

"Wha…?"

"Good heavens, my girl, don't you read the newspaper?"

"Boss! You know I don't…"

"The Gotham Metropolitan Art Museum will be displaying one of the mythical Black Diamonds!"

Harley was clearly confused. "Black diamond? Who'd want a Black Diamond?"

The Joker sighed in exasperation. "The Black Diamond is a mystical artifact of great power! The last time one of these was loose, the entire world was practically plunged into global chaos! And I want it!"

"OK, boss… But something like that… The security's gonna be pretty tight. How do you plan to get in?"

"The word on the street is that Catwoman and Poison Ivy are trying to team up. Apparently one of them has a full schematic of the Museum's security system and the other possesses the Security Passcodes to disable the alarms. And because the Museum has no idea what they're actually putting on display… There will not be any additional security measures taken!"

"So… Uh... What's stopping them?"

"Oh... The usual."

"You mean: Bat…"

"DON'T…"

"…man?"

"say it!" The Joker groaned. "BUT… That's where you come in! I've arranged for a meeting with both of them, where you are going to give them the following offer: In exchange for bringing you in on their team, and giving you an equal cut, I'll make my presence in the City publicly known, and lead Batman on a wild goose chase the night of the heist. And the joke will be on him, because while you three commit the crime of the century the mighty Joker will be nothing more than a mere diversion!"

"But… Boss… If they sell the diamond and all we get is a third… Then how…?"

"SILLY GIRL!" he yelled, jumping right up to her and bending down to meet the diminutive criminal nose-to-nose. "That's just the offer you're going to make! Once you're in their confidence, you will gain entry to their hidey-holes, find out where they've stashed the security schematics and pass codes and after you STEAL them, we'll go and filch the diamond the night BEOFRE the planned heist!" Even this close up, she could see his grin pervading the perimeter of her peripheral vision.

"Oh… I get it, boss! You're a genius!"

"I know, Harley, I know." The Joker stood up and made a futile effort to neaten his hair. "Now get going, you're meeting the two of them at Selina Kyle's Penthouse in one hour! And don't forget my darling little thief: Find those schematics and passcodes and steal them!"

"You can count on me, boss!" Harley answered, saluting enthusiastically.

"I certainly hope so, my dear!"

-------------------------------------------------

Knock-knock

The door to the Penthouse opened revealing Selina Kyle is a black silk bathrobe. Behind her stood Pamela Isley, who had already arrived, fully dressed in her Poison Ivy regalia.

"You're late," said Catwoman.

"Sorry!" Harley Quinn responded, flashing a smile just big enough to be annoying.

"Well, come in. And let us know what kind of fool's errand your boss sent you here on."

"Awww… You're no fun! And here I came *sniff* arms extended to try and help you guys out!"

Poison Ivy was not impressed. "You work for the clown. And if there's one maxim in this filthy town I believe in, it's NEVER work with the clown!"

"Awwww… *sniff* come on! This time it's legit! For reals! And the best part is *sniff* you'll never even have to see him! *sniff* That the whole idea!"

Poison Ivy still looked unconvinced, but Catwoman was intrigued, "Well… I like the idea of not having to see him. What's the deal?"

"Well… *sniff*," Harley started, pausing to wipe her nose, "He figures you two already know what's going to be on display at the Gotham Met, right?"

"Yeah, yeah… The Black Diamond." Poison Ivy scoffed. " So?"

"Soooooo… *sniff* oh man… *sniff* He also figures that you guys got a plan to get in!"

"And suppose we do," answered Catwoman, "Where do you come in?!"

"Weeeellll… *sniff*" Harley stopped, and rubbed her nose again, more vigorously, "Oh, MAN! *sniff* In exchange for a third of the cut, *sniff* he'll agree to make a major disturbance, *sniff* clear on the other *sniff* side of town, leading Batman as far away, *sniff* and keeping him as much otherwise occupied as possible! *sniff*"

"What's the matter with you?" Poison Ivy asked derisively. "Are you sick or something?"

But Harley didn't answer. She just held up her index finger as her eye's crossed, her brow furrowed and her nostrils flared. She felt as if electricity was running through her nose. "haftaa… snee… eeeeEEEE-HAAAATCH-CHUMFH!" Harley was bent over by the force of her sneeze, and the bells on her jester's hat jingled for a few seconds as she remained in that pose.

Poison Ivy scoffed, as if disgusted.

Harley stood back up, holding her index finger under her nose, and flashing a self-deprecating grin. "Sor-reee! *sniff*"

Catwoman tried to keep their business conversation on track, "Well, fine. It just so happens that we MIGHT have a way in and WERE hoping we could take on someone to handle the diversion side of things…"

"haaaatch-CHOOMPHTFT!" (jingle-jingle)

"… that would definitely make things easier…"

"haah… haaaatch-CHUMPHLTFLT!" (jingle-jinlge)

"… in terms of the whole 'Bat' situation…"

"*sniff* aaaah… *sniff* HAAAHTCHMPLBLT!" (jingle-jingle)

"Oh for the love of…" Poison Ivey was getting annoyed.

"Harley?" Catwoman asked, "You wouldn't happen to be... allergic to cats, would you?"

"*sniff* I don't… *sniff* ooooooh… *sniff* I don't know. I… I… heee… heeeaaAAHATCHOOEY!"

(jingle-jingle)

"Well, could you stifle it girly? We've got work to do!" Poison Ivy was just about out of patience.

"Don't be so mean, Pamela…" Catwoman said, walking over to Harley Quinn, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and gently rubbing a silk handkerchief over her nose. "It's not like she can help it…"

But her motivation was far from altruistic. She had been handling one her cats just before Quinn's arrival and was certain that her robe was covered in cat hair and dander.

"Gee… *sniff* thanks, Miss Cat… I… I… *sniff* Oh my God… Miss… C… Ca… Caaah….Haaah…. HaaaaeeeEEETCHOO! Hee-YAAAAHCHOMPLGHT! Hetch-OOOHHMPH! Hetch-CHOOMPH!" Her bells jingled with every body-bending sneeze. "D'ya think I… *sniff* could use… *sniff* your powder r… roo… rreeeAAAHTCHOOMLPLGT! ...room?"

"Oh, you go right ahead, darling!" Catwoman replied, giving her a pat on her bottom as she started away. Once she was out of sight, Catwoman's attention was turned back to Poison Ivy, "OK, now that the little delinquent is out of an earshot… what do you think of the Joker's offer?"

"PLPPLBPLBBLBPBLPLBLT!" Harley Quinn gave her nose a mighty blow from the privacy of Catwoman palatial guest's bathroom. "Hoo-Boy! *sniff* Working with Catwoman and allergic to Cats! What could possibly be worse?" But when she looked back at the mirror she jumped, swearing that she briefly caught a glimpse of the Joker's maniacally smiling face, just behind her.

"Ah… Hahah… haha…. Ha. Yeah… Well… Allergy or not, the boss is counting on me to get this done!"

She gave another mighty sniff and looked back in the mirror. Her eyes were red and itchy and the tears had made her mask wet and smeared her makeup. Worse, her nose had been running so badly, and she had been rubbing it so much, that her white makeup had been wiped completely clean, and what showed through was various shades of pink and red.

"Oooooh… *sniff* Only for you, Mister J.!" And with one more hearty sniff, she looked outside the door and, rather than return to the main room and rejoin the conspiracy, Harley Quinn quietly made her way down the hallway in the other direction, heading towards Catwoman's bedroom.

"*sniff* Nice place she's got here." Harley thought to herself. But the tickle in her nose was quickly growing to almost torturous levels. She rubbed her finger under it vigorously. "OK. *sniff* Gotta be fast. Look for a safe, or something…"

"meow!"

'Oh no!' Harley thought as a Siamese crawled out from behind the bed.

"*sniiiiiif* Ooooooooh! Safe! Safe! Where is it?" she asked herself, fiercely rubbing her nose and trying not to sneeze.

"Mmmmrrroooowww!" Another Cat crawled out from behind the bed.

"eep! *sniiiiif* Oh my God! I'm in trouble, Mister J.!"

"mrow!" a third cat came out of the walk-in closet, and before she knew it there were a dozen cats going in between her feet, and rubbing themselves against her shins and calves, vying for her attention and affection.

"Oh no! *sniff* kitties! *sniff* Go away! *sniff* Need to… *sniiifff* [rub-rub-rub] find the safe for Mister J.! I… I ca… I can't…. I…. haaaah… Oh please…. *sniff* haaaaaaaaaah…. No…. *sniff*…. Haaaaaah…. Haaaaaaaaaaaaah… HAAATCHOO! HETCHOO! heeeATCH-TSHOO! Haaaah…. Haaacthoo! Hetchoo! Hetchoo! Heeeaaatchooo! HAAATCH-TSCHOOO!" (jingle-jingle)

"Can I help you?!" Catwoman was standing in the doorway, tapping her foot and eyeing Harley Quinn suspiciously.

"P… P… *sniff* Powder room?" she asked, smiling innocently, and pointing towards the door to the master bath with the same finger she held under her nose in a vain effort to prevent any more allergens from getting in.

"GETOUTOFMYROOMTHISINSTANT!" Catwoman screamed, pointing back down the hall, to where they had been waiting for her.

"*sniff* Sorry…" Harley said as she slunk slowly away. 'Mister J.' she added, silently, in her mind.

Harley found that she could breathe just the slightest bit easier once back in the much larger, much more frequently cleaned, main room.

"OK… then," Catwoman began again. "While you were *ahem* indisposed, Ivy and I discussed your boss's offer, and have decided to accept it. I assume you'll be coming with us, then?"

"*sniiiiiiffff* Mmmm."

"Harley?"

"Yes! Yeah! *sniff* I'll be with you."

"Good because we could someone…"

"Haaaatch-SHOO!" (jingle-jingle)

"…to create a diversion…"

"HAAAAATCHSHPLGHT!" (jingle-jingle)

"…on the scene as well."

"Haaah…. HAAAAAH-CHUMPPHLT!" (jingle-jingle)

"And you should be a natural at that, right?"

"Y… yea…. yeeeaaaaAAAATCH-CHOOMPHPT!" (jingle-jingle)

Poison Ivy finally lost her patience, "Of for cripes sakes, I don't know what's more annoying: The sneezing or those god-forsaken BELLS!"

"*sniff* Hey, I'm sorry.. .*sniff* I can't… *sniff* I can't help it, I wish I could! *sniff*"

"Hmmmmm," Catwoman realized that they would still have a lot of the master plan to go over and that Harley was next to useless in her current state. "Ivy? Any chance we could do this at your place?"

"Yeah! *sniff* That would work for me!" Harley was as excited about the opportunity to finish at least half of her mission as she was to get away from the cats.

Poison Ivy rolled her eyes, but realized that Catwoman had a point. "Oh, fine. You know the place already, so… Harley? Here's the address."

"*sniff* Can we go over there now?" Harley asked, desperate to get a breath of air that didn't set her sinuses on fire.

"You can," Catwoman answered, "I'll need a little bit of time to get dressed and… into character. One hour OK with you, Ivy?"

"Sure. See you both then."

Back down on the street, Harley was disappointed to find that she still felt every bit as miserable as she had upstairs. "*sniiiiiffff* Stupid cats! *sniff* Getting me in trouble with my boss now!" She rubbed her nose with one hand and hailed a taxi with another.

Once she hopped in, the driver was immediately startled at who he's just picked up, her boss's reputation preceding her. "Harley Quinn!" he gasped.

"*sniff* Don't worry mister… *sniff* I'm feelin' way too miserable to even run away and skip out on the fare… *sniff* here's fifty in advance… *sniff* just get me to this address… *sniff* OK?"

"No tricks?"

She lifted up her masked, revealing her bloodshot eyes and tear-soaked makeup. "Does this face look like it's in the mood for tricks? *sniff* Just drive, will ya?"

And as Harley curled up into a pitiful, sniffling ball in the back seat, the driver spent most of the ride over daydreaming about telling his friends how he "had a real-live 'super-villain' in his cab this one time!"

And before long, Harley Quinn found herself standing outside of what looked like a huge, privately owned greenhouse. Figuring she could use the time to clean herself up a bit, and possibly restore some of her dignity, she waited for Catwoman to show up before going up to the door herself.

"You're looking a little bit better," Catwoman remarked.

"Yeah. *sniff* Still a little stuffy, but I'll manage. Hey… I'm sorry about the mix up back there."

But Catwoman just laughed, masking her suspicions perfectly. "Oh, that?! That's nothing. No problem at all! It's a big place. ANYONE could get lost in it! No sweat!"

"*sniff* Heh-heh-haaaah." Harley laughed, somewhat pathetically, knowing she was being played, but still lacking any of the vim necessary for a comeback.

The door to the greenhouse opened, and Poison Ivy appeared, now dressed in green civies, much as Catwoman had gone casual back at her place. Harley was starting to think the Joker was the only super-villain around who insisted on dressing the part when he was at home.

"Come on in!" Ivy invited them.

But as soon as Harley walked through the door any notion of relief she had from being away from the cats was obliterated in an instant. Whereas Catwoman's penthouse was at least cleaned regularly, and fairly large, even for a handful of cats, the air in the green house was saturated with the pollen of whatever Poison Ivy was growing here and Harley's nose was immediately set ablaze.

"*sniff*!" (rub-rub-rub) "Oh my God…! Hetchoo! Who… haaah… haAAATCHOOMPH! fills… heeeEEETCHOO! An entire greenhouse… HatcTCHOO! with… HAAAHTCHOOMPLBT! RAGWEED?!" Her bells jingled through the entire fit.

Poison Ivy was indignant, "RAGWEED?! Miss Quinn, I can assure there is no RAGWEED in here!"

"*sniiiiiiffff* coulda fooled… heeeeYAAATCHOOOMPH! …me! *sniff*" (jingle)

"There is nothing in here except for Orchids…"

"HAAAAAH-choomphf!" (jingle-jingle)

"…Lillies…."

"hup-chumf!" (jingle-jingle)

"…and some special hybrids, of my own design"!

"haaaaha… hAAAAAHHHHH…. HAAATCH-TSCHOO! Hut-TXCHOO! HaaaaAAHHCTH-CHOO!!!" (jingle-jingle-jingle)

"Oh, for the… Seriously? Really?"

"*sniff* …yeah… *sniff*"

"Ok, look, Selina, does she really need to be here?"

"haaaath-chmfpt!" (jingle-jingle)
"I mean… Maybe she should go back and tell her boss…"

"*sniiffff* HaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHH-choo!" (jingle)

"…that we'll accept his offer. I mean, if she's going to be the diversion, she can probably just wing it, right?"

"Does that sound OK to you, Harley?" Catwoman asked, feeling half-sympathetic and half-glad to be little of the little troublemaker.

"*sniff* yeah *sniff* I gu… gue… gueeeEEEESSSTCHOO! *sniff* I guess so." Harley answered defeatedly, wiping her nose on the back on her hand, and sniffing up that which was pouring out. And, knowing that her chances of finding anything in that greenhouse were just a tiny fraction of what they were back at Catwoman's penthouse, she left, not having accomplished ANY of the objectives her boss had assigned to her.

She knew she couldn't take a Cab all the way back to the Joker's hideout, so she walked, still sneezing (causing her bells to jingle) every dozen steps or so. She wasn't even in the mood to be particularly careful about keeping out of sight and so was spotted several times to the first surprised, and then confused, gasps of Gotham's gentry as they tried to figure out what to make of the sneezing, sniffling super-villain.

After a few hours walking, finally get her sneezing under control, and getting some of the ability to breathe through her nose back, she started down the steps that led into the Joker's subterranean lair. At this point she wanted nothing more than to fall down and go to sleep, but she knew she'd have to apologize to her boss, and try to figure out how to create an opportunity to redeem herself.

"*sniff* Hiya, boss. *sniff*" she said, slumped over in both shame and exhaustion.

"My dear Harley! You look a wreck!" the Joker was only feigning sympathy, but Harley didn't care.

"*sniff* I'm sorry boss… *sniff* I couldn't…"

"Oh, you don't have to explain my dear, I heard the WHOLE thing!"

"*sniff* …huh…?"

"You see I planted a mini-bug in your ruff before you left!"

Harley felt ashamed. "*sniff* Why boss? Dontcha trust me?"

"Oh, OF COURSE dear! It was only there for your… protection! You just can't trust some of these super-villains you know!"

"*sniff* I'm sorry boss. But… *sniff* at least they took the offer?" Harley offered a pitiful smile, but she could see that the Joker wasn't moved.

"Harley, Harley, Harley… You know that this will cost me two-thirds of the cut…"

"*sniff* Yeah, boss, I know."

"…And you KNOW that I'll be keeping your share because of that."

"*sniff* I know, boss."

"…And OF COURSE, you'll still have to be… punished."

"*sniff* I know, boss." And while Harley Quinn could almost have looked forward to a good, hard spanking or some electric-play with the Joker's joy-buzzer, when he finally started laughing, she was horrified to look up and see what he had produced for behind the desk:

A bouquet of a dozen lilies and a fluffy white cat.

"Eep! Oh, no!" she thought, as the Joker stepped out from behind the desk.