Owner	Pose
Pamela Isley	The Greenhouse off of Robinson Park has long been known as the Glave of the Druidess of Gotham City. It has stood inert for quite some time, with Ivy having relocated to the Asteroid M base in Earths orbit. With Spring coming on, however, life has returned to the Greenhouse. People who frequent the park have seen plants growing at an alarming rate in what had been an overgrown, but largely docile, extension of the beauty that is this part of the island. Several trucks have been pulled up and plants are moving towards the flat beds. Some move of their own volition, some are being carried by other plants, but amongst them is the Druidess herself.. Red hair hanging like fresh, wet moss from her scalp, she wears only a few twisted vines wrapping around her legs and chest to conseal herself. It's a warmer night, so she's walking barefoot through the puddles of the recent rain... letting the moisture soak into the pads of her feet as she observes the operation underway.
Kate Kane	Kate Kane can't help but reflect on the little-mentioned benefits of fighting crime using vigilante tactics and the superstitions and terror of the criminal element. Oh, not so much that the thugs and goons and henchmen give up easily, or babble out that certain ecoterrorists are up to 'something at the greenhouse, moving major weight'. No, it's more that if you take a break for a couple of months they just assume they're lucky every night and that you're busy ruining somebody else's heist. Sure, it doesn't work so well if you've disappeared after a giant luchador beat you up, but that hasn't been a problem Kate's had to contend with yet. Of course, she hasn't taken a random mugger at his word, but a quick flyby with one of her drones (Boy, being stupendously wealthy makes crime fighting so much easier) has confirmed the trucks, the plants carrying plants, the ones moving out on their own... that's _definitely_ suspicious. Kate's lurking on a rooftop now across the street, all shadow and cloak, though there's those highlights of red, hair peeking out of her cowl, symbol upon her chest, lips contrasting paleness, she'd probably terrify an old priest and a young priest if they walked by. But she's got someone else to scare first, backing up from the edge of the roof to get a bit of a running start. She sprints, leaps, and soars into the air, grappling gun firing out with a muffled pneumatic puff, hook wrapping around one of the steel beams of the greenhouse, angling her glide to swoop down and land in front of Pamela as she steps out into view. Commanding voice barks out, "Alright Ivy, I don't know what you're up to, but I think we both know how this is going to go." Given that imperious, arm-crossed posture, and that stern clench to her jaw, Batwoman's not figuring it's going to end in tea and cookies. Clearly, all these plants are up to something _nefarious_.
Pamela Isley	Suddenly Batwoman. Ivy, as Ivy often is, seems unimpressed. Is she putting on a show? Certainly some of it is an act to play her part in the nightly dance macabre played out throughout the streets of Gotham. Bats chasing criminal, criminal playing fear. It's all so boringly drawl. The Druidess, like Batwoman, crosses her arms beneath her breasts and tilts her head at her fellow redheaded heroine. With a smile as sweet as processed sucrose. The plants all pause in their activities. Whether carried, carrying, or shambling of their own accord, they stop dead when one of Gotham's Knights appears. Awaiting, perhaps, Ivy's command to return, to act, or to remain just as they are... it appears she's chose the latter of those options. "Do we?" She wonders, perking a perfect brow over a jade green eye. Her tongue rolls out across the roof of her mouth, where it pops against her teeth in an audible 'tsk'. "You certain you don't want to know what I'm doing before you decide how it's going to end, dear?" It's spring. This is important... Ivy is so much more pleasant during those months before Summer. Easier to talk to, perhaps a bit more flirtatious than violent. But certainly, more playful.
Kate Kane	Kate glowers... mostly because, yes, it's all part of the dance. Bats are dour and serious and show no emotions except their adoration and allyship to JUSTICE. Even though Kate really wants to do like, a Clint Eastwood staredown at the plants as they stop, and slowly reach towards a pouch on her utility belt. And there'd be some subtle guitar music and... And then Ivy's posing back, arms crossed, all confidence and terrible beauty of nature. And Kate remembers... Ivy's dangerous. Oh, sure, she's not _actively_ dangerous right now, the plants are still, but she's got charisma. And that playful tone, that dripping sweetness. It's more dangerous. But Kate knows all about not falling into temptation. She passes a bar and feels temptation reach out like creeping vines. She faces off against Ivy, and that damnable eyebrow raise, that tilt of her chin, that lifted eyebrow... well, Ivy's not reaching out like _actual_ vines, and Kate finds herself more fighting the temptation to grin at the thought than having to truly fight Ivy's temptation. But it earns a heave of a sigh and a little lessening of that posture of readiness, "What, you're starting a national franchise of greenhouses, and this is the first shipment out of Gotham? I mean, living plants would be less corrupt and want fewer kickbacks than the Gotham chapter of the Teamsters, but really..." Emerald eyes narrow, "Go ahead and surprise me, Ivy. What's your big secret?" Kate's not falling for that flirtatiousness... she actually kind of prefers Autumnal Ivy... violence is simpler. Easier to focus on. More overt danger is always the simpler to avoid. It's the slow knife, the subtle trap that brings the most danger. And while Kate hasn't got an actual super powered danger sense, Ivy? Ivy's just got a presence that puts her on edge. Two-Face, Penguin, Bane? They're simple. Ivy's dangerous in so many ways at once, and she makes it seem so tempting.
Pamela Isley	The worst part, perhaps, is that Ivy knows exactly how tempting she is. Nothing is so terrible as someone who is both incredibly attractive and KNOWS they are... so it is true with the druidess of Gotham. She's cunning and as she stands there posing off against Batwoman, she's sizing her up. Green eyes trail down over the red-symbol on her chest, down her abdomen and back up again. 'tsk'. Her tongue clicks off the roof of her mouth once again. One volumptious hip juts out to the side as her hands slide down from beneath her breasts to rest palms around them. Like Mother Nature herself. "Oh please." She rolls her eyes at such a trope, "Perhaps that sort of nonsense would have worked in the sixties... certainly you'd give me more credit than that? As if I'd ''ever'' have enough faith in a human institution as to work to undermine it by subverting it so subtly. No.. No.." She ticks her head side to side, moss like hair tumbles down the back of her shoulder. The plants remain stationary, set pieces or spectators depending on the perspective, while Ivy moves closer. Not threatening, she doesn't have to get close to be threatening. She'd much rather stay 'far' away from one of the Bats if her intention was to attack them. But then... that's Winter Ivy. This is Spring. She brings up a hand from her hip, finger extended as if to draw it down Kate's exposed jaw should she not pull herself away. It wouldn't be very hard to do... at least not physically. Temptation being what it is. "I'm leaving Gotham..." Whispered, sultry, selicious. "Unless I have a reason not to..." Up goes that brow further, just a scant bit higher, along with the corners of her red lips into a subtle smirk.
Kate Kane	Kate's eyes are steady, intense... mostly. Well, entirely intense. Mostly steady, watching every detail of Ivy's motions forward. She tenses subtly, it's still controlled, but not entirely imperceptible. Especially not as Ivy gets in close. That click of tongue sounds so impossibly loud as Kate lets out a long, slow breath. Eyes follow those hands... in case Ivy's going for a weapon of course. Certainly, her vines could lash out _without_ the help of a hand. But Kate watches those nimble fingers, those svelte wrists... just in case. Of course. Hips cock once more as Ivy reaches out, jaw is set, tenses a little more as she allows that touch, doesn't flinch back. Batwoman's made of stern stuff. She glowers a little, lips pressing into a thin line. "But _why_ are you leaving? I can't just let you run out of town and say move to Metropolis if you're going to settle your roots there and go back to your... extreme environmentla activism." Thin, stern line of lips splits into a crooked, almost taunting grin as she murmurs softly, "Besides, even leaving Gotham? If you become a problem, you'll find I'm willing to endure a long distance relationship... if it needs to be done." She points a single finger, not quite reaching out to poke the middle of Ivy's chest as her voice drops to a low near growl, "I don't even disagree with a lot of your views, Ivy. But... there are certain lines we can't cross. No matter how easy it is. No matter how simple a solution just killing those who disagree looks like... We.. you... can't do that." Because Kate knows all about wanting to prevent future complications and mete out justice with a final sanction on someone. But that symbol on her chest is more important than what she wants. And Kate never ever has a little voice hissing in the back of her head with self doubt about it.
Pamela Isley	Had Ivy expected Kate to pull away from her? Ultimately it doesn't matter, that single finger traces down along the curve of Batwoman's stern, set jaw until she reaches her chin. The finger bends so her knuckle rests there and her thumb rubs across it, it could be an affectionate caress if it weren't from one of the more violent and brutal villains in all of Gotham's hefty arsenal of violently brutal villains. Her own lips are pouty, pressed together now in a smug, tight smile, with her brow hanging dangerously above one eye with the small crease of a wrinkle running straight acros her green forehead beneath a few thready tendrils of damp red hair. She's clearly been soaking up the rain tonight... And her eyes.. For good or ill, Batwoman has all of Ivy's attention focused upon her. Hanging on her words with baited breath and a tongue running against the sharp edge of her upper row of teeth, just barely concealed behind those pouty red lips. "That's none of your business." She murmurs playfully, almost teasingly, in a voice that drips with 'unless you want it to be'. Is she using pheromones? No.. just wiles. She doesn't always need to cheat. Sometimes it's more fun not to. Her thumb nail scraps along Kate's chin, not very hard at all, then falls down to reset itself upon one jut hip. "My attempts to educate the world to the glorious fury of natures wrath have proven ineffective. So I've adopted a new strategy..." She extends a finger, looks hither and thither, and leans in close towards Kate as if it's a secret just betwixt us girls. "I'll let them kill each other off and retake the world from the ashes." She leans back and smirks, shrugging her shoulder forward with a suggestive turn of her head and mockly coy turn of her eyes away from Batwoman. "You're welcome to join me... Surely we can keep each other amused until the humans anger some dark power from beyond the stars and see themselves burned a sunder..? "Netflix and chill?" She says teasingly.
Kate Kane	Kate glowers... a little. Well, she tries to glower... but there might be a flush of her cheeks creeping from under her cowl, even through that preternaturally pale skin, up close it's clear she uses a little makeup to heighten a naturally alabaster complexion. Her breath hitches just a little. A brief, steadying pause that seems to lock her body up. And then that expression's back to stern, stony mask as she murmurs softly, voice almost hesitant, "Well, I'm not going to say I'm _rooting_ for you..." Her voice is soft, deadly serious. But there's a little quirk to the right corner of her mouth. Heh. Root. She heaves out another sigh, "But I'll say that... I'd really like you to try. Try not to give into that rage. That urge to... take a more active role in wiping us out, hm?" She groans softly, "Trust me, if that happens, my phone's going to buzz telling me I need to go help fight some starspawned monstrosity." And then Kate's reaching out, two gloved fingers lightly brushing some of those red locks up and away from the Druid's face as she lets that 'business' voice drop. That slightly deeper, sterner tone is gone, "But really. If you want to try and... make this thing work... the uh... the... not killing thing. I'm willing to try and help." She frowns thoughtfully and mutters, "God, my Netflix queue is _so_ backlogged." She's definitely not going to focus on the 'chill', because chilling or not, it's already so warm out here. So so warm.
Pamela Isley	It is a difficult thing to surprise Ivy. She always seems to have all the answers already written down, but against all odds, Batwoman has managed. Her expression, so very playful and teasing, softens when fingers reach out to brush hair away from her face. That brow, which had thusfar held high in its mighty position above one green eye, comes down from that branch to settle in the weeds with its equally as perfect twin. Over eyes that squint at the vigilante. Scrutinizing her. Weighing whether she's trying to play her at her own games.. it's never really been Batwoman's style, however. So she cants her head at her and lets her smirk return. Slowly at first, but it grows ever so steadily across one side of red lips. "I can't promise anything." She's not a liar, whatever she is. "But I've seen enough in these last few months to know, with absolute certainty, that Earth needs more champions to protect her externally, than internally." Alien invasions, ANGELS(ffs), and all manner of other demons, ghosts, and ghouls. She takes a breath and releases it, a breeze passing through tree leaves, that carries a scent of lilac and mint towards Kate. She reaches up and covers Kate's hand, closes her fingers through those clothed in gloves, and lowers it from her face. Though she doesn't release it when it's hovering between them. "I'm not doing it for you." Is she aware of how warm it's suddenly gotten? She leans closer, "But perhaps you could help me.. I'll require lots of supevision." Green eyes resume inspecting her now.
Kate Kane	Kate actually bites her lower lip as fingers lace with hers, there's a wave of tension... Ivy's dangerous. Ivy's so so _so_ dangerous, and... this is even more dangerous. Risking her stab her with some sort of toxin-laced thorn in a fight? Oh, that's nothing. She's got anti-toxins, knows scientists, magicians, what's a little neurotoxin to all that? No, Kate's more worried at how easy it is to admire Ivy in so many ways. She practically makes the idea of accepting humanity's going to get itself razed from the Earth logcal. Enticing. That's far more dangerous. Kate counters that closer lean with one of her own... not qutie forehead to forehead, eyes locked on eyes, her red lips quirk in their own sardonic little grin as she practically purrs out. "Good. Don't do it for me. Don't do it for Harley. Or anyone else. Do it for you. Be your own woman." She quirks an eyebrow and whispers out, voice a low hiss, "And really now... what makes you think I wasn't already going to keep a close eye on you?" She snorts softly, murmuring in a drier tone, "I figured you were going to say I could help you move a couch."
Pamela Isley	Bringing up Harley was a low-blow and it nearly pops the bubble. Despite her cunning and intellect, despite the demure weather pattern and the effects Spring has on her physiology and mental state, she's still as unpredictably volitile as nature itself. Her eyes harden for a second when the Clown Princess is brought up, but she weighs the spirit of what was meant and she settles into a smirk at the last comment. Her fingers retreat, but not with any alacrity, from between Batwoman's. One slides up the inside of the vigilante's wrist. "Was that a subtle way of asking me where I'll be living?" Her eyes half lid, leaning to one side as if she's a plant bending towards sunlight through a small breach in the overhead canopy of much larger trees. "Do you want to help me move a couch?" She's leaning so close when she says it, forming each word right near Batwoman's cowl covered ear. Close enough that the earthy scent of her is an assailant on the senses. The tangy aroma of her hair, she pulls back and ducks her head. Personal space, gone. She may as well be standing nose to nose with her, one false turn and hers will brush right against Kate's. "I wonder if you know how dangerous a game you're playing."
Kate Kane	Kate's eyes flash for a moment... there's that brief spark of tension, that she's taken a misstep right into the middle of a minefield... but then that smirk's back and Kate's relaxing... well, okay, Kate's putting back on her carefully controlled air of relaxation. But given how swiftly they _both_ just switched to near fight mode? It's pretty clear they're standing on a pond of thin ice, that it could crack at any moment. But what's life without a little danger? Fingers flex, curl, not quite forming a fist, but her arm tenses, wrist flexing just a little as that touch roams. Breath escapes in a soft, slow murmur. "It might have been." She admits it casually enough, voice radiating a little genuine warmth as she sighs out softly, "Well... now that's a tricky question... maybe having a friend help you move will... show you the benefits to not keeping everyone at... arm's length. Or vine's length." There's a hesitant little shift, Kate's hips cocking at a new angle, a little more of a lean away from that intense closeness, at least at waist level.... even if her head tilts so she can nearly press lips to ear and whisper out, "Oh, were you busy directing your moving crew when I showed up? My main forms of transportation are a Ducatti and leaping off of rooftops in the middle of the night." She pulls back, eye to eye once more, and echoes Ivy's earlier click of tongue against the roof of her mouth, "Does anything about that scream 'Rational hesitance towards rushing into danger'?" It's a little self-depricating. And it's a lot of true.
Pamela Isley	Neither of them is unaware of how precarious the fragile alliance actually is, but neither seems incline to play the smarter card to step away from thin ice. Ivy because this is her domain, she lives here in this coy game of cat and mouse, but she can carve out a small victory from any precieved nuance. Like Batwoman angling her hip back. It's not a defensive play, but it's noticed and the Druidess is keen to make it aware she had... Green eyes flick down between their bodies at the new position Kate's taken, and then back up in a painfully slow curve of orbs rotating in their sockets without ever affecting the placement of her face so close to the other woman's. Oh no, Ivy isn't backing away now. Her beefy red tongue rests against the back of her upper teeth, pressing until the vein beneath is visible between her lips. Each breath so close that Kate's got no option but to breath it in, which holds true for Ivy as well... but she breathes carbon dioxide so it may as well be life to her. "I found something else to occupy my attention." It's true too... not one plant has moved since Kate arived. "Shhh..." Up comes one of those fingers, ready to lay across the vigilantes lips unless prevented. "We don't speak poorly of ourselves." Royal we... She regards her evenly, eyes still half lided, "I..." Hrm... she smiles, a bit warmer maybe, but it might be preseption over reality, ".. would rather invite you to know where I live than have you stalk around in the shadows. A visitor, not an intruder. But you have to give me something first..." She doesn't say what it is. Nor does it appear like she will.
Kate Kane	Kate's falling further and further into a dangerous game. Her eyes widen a little... dart down... that mouth is... distracting. Consuming. That tongue draws the eye, the eye draws the mind, and Kate's tensed like a bowstring ready to snap. It might very well only be her willpower that holds her together. She knows that shift of hips was another move in this game of chess, that she's on the defensive. And, well, the best defense is a good offense. She thinks she read that once. Maybe it was the best offense is a good defense. She can't recall, so she's going to roll with her first instinct. Which means her arms lift, stretch high, and then drop. Fingers clasp opposite wrists, embracing Ivy, her head tilting foreward, until the cool touch of her cowl presses to Ivy's forehead, her lips press to those fingers, warm, supple... and quirking into a wry little smirk. "Is it an autograph? I didn't bring a pen." Her eyes glint, not that earlier wariness, it's a daring, wild burst of excitement... and just a little wariness. This dance is dangerous. Intoxicating. And Kate's never had a problem resisting anything with _that_ particular descriptor, right? She draws in a slow, sweet breath and purrs it out, "So you give me your address. Maybe your number... you know, friends call friends before dropping by, don't they?" And those green eyes glint with pure playfulness, "And I give you...?"
Pamela Isley	Ivy might be winning, it's hard to know anymore. A lot of her actions are governed by the seasons, so while some instincts play a part, there's a drive as well. A purpose. They're dancing, a dangerous one, and either could tip the scales just as effortlessly in the others direction. She watches every movement, just as she feels every tremble of the plants shuddering when Kate presses her puffy lips against the finger laid against them. The physical manifestation of the Druidess given some physical outlet other than upon her own form. No wind, it's surprisingly quiet tonight. Only there's the distinct sound of wind passing through leaves. Then their foreheads are together, warm green skin to hard black cowl. She's been here before.. in some form or another. Her finger slides down over Kate's lips, pulling one gently down with the smallest curve of her extended digit to leave it popping back against white teeth. There's an excitement in Ivy's eyes too. A looseness to her frame, which is a great deal less hidden compared to Kate, that betrays just how relaxed she actually is. Then nothing she'd do would require her to attack with her own hands anyways... Her smile flickers, now so close she can smell the makeup Batwoman uses to lighten her already alabaster complexion. "Would you call me?" She wonders in a whisper, it's dangerous to be this close to either one of these women. "Would you visit?" She adds in a voice that's no louder than the first. But what would she give? "A kiss." Temptation, now personified. Because Ivy's kiss can be very deadly.
Kate Kane	Kate's jaw clenches, her whole body tenses, her arms dropping, from looped around Ivy's neck, to hooking about her waist. And there they pause. Long moments. A handful of them, enough for her breath to rasp, to nearly snarl, to growl softly. A restrained, animal noise... like there are two wolves inside Batwoman, and they're fighting. This is a terrible idea. Objectively, Kate knows that. It's not responsible. It's not tactical... it might not even be _friendly_. It's just a roiling, instinctive reaction that she can't get out of her head. She's not even rationalizing to herself anymore. It's not the cold calculation that Ivy would be less of a threat if Kate keeps a close eye on her. It's not that Kate really thinks Ivy could be an ally, it's a brief moment where it's all of those things, and that daredevil drive to just go on instinct. She can handle anything. She can handle this. And there's no point in drawing it out once those dominos fall and she settles on that decision. Instead, that growl fades to a pu rr, a low, hissed, "I guess you'll be finding out." And then Kate's diving in to deliver that kiss. Hey, if she's going to die, she's going to face Saint Peter or whoever with a helpless shrug and a 'It seemed like a good idea at the time.' But she's definitely really certain Ivy doesn't want to poison her. And if she does die, the way those arms grip Ivy tighter and pull her close... well, it'll at least be an inconvenience for her to wriggle free. Gotta look on the bright side in Gotham.
Pamela Isley	Time could have raged for an eternity in the time it's taken Batwoman to come to her decisive, perhaps unreasonable, decision. Never once does Ivy look uncomfortable. In the position she's in there at least a dozen ways Kate could quickly and effectively dispatch her. Arms around the back of her neck, holding her close, and then down around her hips where her gauntlets rest on hips that swell out from her waist like some kind of fleshy green depiction of Venus herself. Fertility like the vibrant greens of the preverbial jungle that is Poison Ivy's lair and the lush reds of her tongue and lips, to the damp burgendy of her hair hanging as moss would across her face. So close to Kate's exposed nostrils that the intoxicating aroma of the Druidess is the only thing save oxygen to breath. Is it dangerous? Probably... Is Ivy still very much a threat? Unquestionably. Her hands are on Kate's hips as soon as the decision is made. At the first hint of movement, she pulls her bodily closer, and crushes them together until their lips meet. Red lips pucker around Batwoman's, tug at it playfully. She doesn't make it something grotesque or, in fact, inappropriate. There is no poison, at least none that's deadly. Her lips still tingle, and the moisture of her lips only intensifies it. And when, once again, their foreheads are laying together, she blinks. Long lashes cross over her green eyes, "Brooklyn. Sunny Rose Antique Store. I live on the roof." She murmurs, reaching up to trail a finger along the skin exposed just beneath the black cowl.
Kate Kane	Kate pulls back from that kiss, eyes wide behind her cowl... at how electric it was? At the fact that the intense tingle on her lips seems more primal than poisonous? At the fact that she just did that? All the above? She'll figure it out later surely. She's defintiely going to be thinking about it a lot. That firm grip lessens... reluctantly, slightly, from crushing grip to once more almost casual embrace. But an embrace it is. She exhales slow, steady, nodding her head slowly, lips quirking in a crooked little smile. "Brooklyn. Well, you're moving to a far better area code for cuisine. Maybe we'll brunch sometime." She tries to make it sound breezy, but already Kate knows this is beyond dangerous. Kissing Ivy in spring, surrounded by her plants, on impulse? Sure, that's dangerous. Thinking about another meeting? One involving going out somewhere she presumably won't be wearing the cowl? Oh, now that's Dangerous. She lets her fingers lace together, against the small of Ivy's back, refusing to let the Druid go free yet as she murmurs, tongue clumsy, words feeling thick as they spill past those full lips, "Thanks for not... you know... living up to the first half of your nom de guerre. I really do want to help you with your..." She heaves out a sigh, "Whatever this is. You deserve a chance to make a go of things without all the..." One hand leaves that embrace to fling in a grand gesture encompassing the city, "Morass that this city brings. You're better than it's tried to make you." There's another long pause and that cowled head tilts, "I should... probably let you go and get along with packing, right?"
Pamela Isley	Ivy would never let onto the fact, but her own lips tingle just so, and where it any other moment she might reach up to touch them and see if perhaps she were bleeding. Though she knows that she's not, her eyes narrow at Kate's suggestion, but it's not a threatening expression on her face. What an odd change, from 'fuck around and find out' to.. well perhaps not that odd? They had fucked around.. Now who's finding out? And what is it they're finding? When the grip on her back loosens, so too does the hands she'd used to pull Kate closer. Sliding to mimic where the vigilantes rest in her back, holding here there, but not preventing her from leaving. The fabric of that weighted cape rubs against her bare forearm and she tilts her head just enough to look at it, then straightens to stare back into white eyes of a cowl. Lips pursing into a deeper smile. One full of promises and a whole mess of danger when she says, "You'd have to take that off." Mirroring what is, perhaps, the most dangerous of everything Kate's done. Is that Ivy's real plan? Is she REALLY that cunning? But any teasing softens hearing her expand. Eyes lowering to look at them pressed together when Kate explains how she deserves so much more, "You're not the first person to say that. It's funny to me, how willing someone is to help you.. until you surrender. And then it's cold glass in a basement with hundreds of yards of concrete between me and anything green.." Her eyes flick up, there's no malice, but there's a hard edge. "Don't fuck with my emotions in Spring." Because April Showers can be pretty nasty lightning storms... and then a deep breath, drinking Kate in. "Probably." She does have so very much to do.. but she doesn't make any motion to untwist from where she's embraced, and embracing, Kate.
Kate Kane	Kate reluctantly draws her arms back further, her hands move to her hips, to that utility belt. Slow... smooth... _very_ slow, like she's playing with fire. Because she knows going for those pouches suddenly is not a good idea, and she doesn't want to make a misstep. And in a moment, she proves if one of them was lying. Because she definitely brought a pen. And a small pad of paper. Because of course she's always prepared... you know, for most things. Not for this evening. But she's definitely prepared to scribble down a phone number and offer it up with a tilt of her head. Her lips split in a grin as she sighs out and taps her cowl with the cap of the pen, "I would, wouldn't I? Think you could handle going for brunch _without_ the mystery?" And then ivory teeth press on her lower lip as she huffs out another low breath, "And hey... I'm... not trying to mess with you. That's not my style." Sure, her style is headlong dives into excitement and half-formed plans. Which is arguably more hurtful than being a manipulative monster... or, well, so people who take that more manipulative route tend to think. This night's giving her so much to think about... she probably should've punched that mugger who told her Ivy was up to something a little harder for starting this entire thing off. Or maybe hit him a little softer, because really, it's not like it's gone badly. Just dangerously. But it's worth the danger. "I mean, hey... if you do need help moving a couch in the future, I'm _not_ showing up like this to do it."
Pamela Isley	Ivy is every bit as reluctant, but it's entirely possible hers is calculated. When does the manipulative nature of what she's doing end and her just wanting some companionship begin? There's no files in the batcomputer about that, is there? The last touch is her hand sliding off Kate's hip with only a bit of resistance of a hand wrapping around that utility belt. Then it returns to her own hips, which are still cocked out to one side. All the coy playfulness has left her face, replaced with something more disarming by many measures: A smile. Not one roving for dangerous games, but one easy and graceful as the druidess herself. It doesn't make her less threatening, it just makes her... a woman. Who happens to also be really dangerous. She doesn't even watch Kate go for her belt, at least not in that cautious way that people should watch one of the Knights anyways, and tilts her head when it's a pen and paper that is retrieved instead of a batarang. The number, she closes her fingers around it. A brush of her palm against Kate's gloved knuckles, she takes the number and folds it... but she's no pockets to slip it, so she puts it the only place she can. A bit of paper rising up between the curve of breasts. "I don't really care for mysteries." Her finger there, running the junction between cowl and face, "I know.. you're more of a bull in a China-shop kind of woman. I've always appreciated that about you.. there's no deception, only intention." Her finger dashes down to clip off the pointed angle of the cowls nose. Silence. Perhaps awkward? Even she's not sure anymore. "I... never thought I'd say this." And it almost makes her laugh, "I look forward to seeing you again. I promise I'll be wearing clothes next time." Humor. From Poison Ivy. "Thank you for believing in me.." Maybe she'd imagined hearing that. Because then the plants are moving again and Ivy is turning, slowly, to walk towards her greenhouse. Her hips swaying so hard it ''has'' to be intentional.
Kate Kane	There's a soft little noise, almost a dismissive snort as that cowl tilts, and head gives a small shake. "Oh, mysteries can be fine in moderation... like what you want to watch on Netflix. And... well, if it _is_ brunch, that would probably give us more options for venue... dress codes are so _strict_... and... I do. Don't forget that." Kate knows how to deal with awkward silences... or, at least, how to disappear silently at a moment's notice. By the time those swaying hips are returning to the interior of the greenhouse, there's nothing but industrious plants moving Ivy's belongings, and the soft wind. And Batwoman is off to protect the citizens of Gotham in the dark of the ni- hahahaha. No. Batwoman's off the clock. Kate Kane's going home to avail herself of the best water her fridge can produce, at the coldest temperature, and a brief run of that water through a countertop carbonation machine. Part of her's screaming for something stronger, but she's played with fire and danced through it without singing herself tonight. And the best daredevils know when one more stunt is too many. Kate's got some thinking to do. A lot of it, really. She'll probably jot something poetic in her journal about how the streets of Gotham can be more dangerous for one's heart than one's body. Or maybe that should be the roofs of Brooklyn.