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Description
Matthew Kincaid shuddered, or he would have if he had the ability to move. Panic rose in him. Paralyzed… The word dug at him. It seemed to course through him, traveling along his veins more rapidly than his blood. The pain in his head increased as his heart rate rose and breath quickened, both of which felt considerably labored. There was an instinctual sort of fear and panic that came with the concept of paralysis. The inability to move, the thought of never being able to move again… The pain, both internal and external, was crushing. It tore at his soul and was inching closer to fracturing his mind.

Perhaps sensing this, or just so that she would not have to be around someone in such a state, the woman gently intertwined her fingers with his. He wouldn't have even known if he couldn't see it happening. The air seemed to thicken, but in a very calming and pleasant sort of way. The smell of her changed, still like the plants but with a different aroma. "You stopped those men from burning those plants. Why?" There seemed to be a general confusion in the tone of her question, as if she was truly perplexed as to why someone would make such an effort.

Kincaid felt that his head was swimming, but rather than a great discomfort it was more like he was in a warm bath. "First… What is… What is your name?" he said lazily, his eyes turning towards hers.

"Ivy," The woman replied, her voice soft but with a certain sort of command to it. To Kincaid, it sounded a little bit rehearsed, like a name she was just used to saying.

The officer shook his head, slowly, as each motion that he could manage seemed to require more effort than he was used to. "I know that…" Once his mind had pieced together the aspects of her appearance, as well as the vague memory of the plants attacking the thugs in the park, he had known who she was. Poison Ivy was one of Gotham's most notorious criminals and murderers. She had an ability to command plants and by all accounts was virtually one herself. "I knew… I know who you are…" Kincaid was still struggling to put words together. "But that's not… What is your… Your real name?"

Something about him seemed to touch her. Kincaid could not be sure what it was, whether it was his naturally gentle nature or his current condition. After a moment she finally answered him. "Pamela. Pamela Isley." It was clearly not a name she was used to saying anymore. It almost seemed like she regretted it.

Kincaid smiled as much as he could manage. "Gotham Police… Officer Matt… Matthew Kincaid…" He instinctually tried to extend his hand before the impossibility of the matter struck him. He glanced down at his hand and Ivy's eyes followed his. She seemed to understand what he was thinking and with a soft smile lifted his hand so that he could see, placed her hand in his, closed his fingers around hers, and shook his hand slowly. Kincaid returned her smile and mouthed a thank you.

"Pamela… The park…. Feller Park…" Hearing his own speech embarrassed him, as it sounded so halfhearted and broken. Ivy had asked a question though, and he was determined to answer. It took all of his effort to communicate. "I grew up there… Down the street… Spent all… All my time there… Planted flowers, trimmed bushes… Was my… My church, my sanctu… Sanctuary." Ivy was listening intently, still clutching his hand though without feeling in his body it was more for show than actual comfort. "Loved it… Took care of it… Trimmed bushes, raked leaves… Mowed the grass… Planted flowers… Loved the flowers…" Kincaid looked in her eyes which were locked on him, his own misty from pain and the tears his memories brought up. She wiped the corners of his eyes as he continued to stare at her. He was getting hazy again, his mind slipping. "You look… You look like a flower… Like a rose… So… So beautiful…"

Ivy seemed taken aback by his compliment, as if she was not used to receiving them. That seemed odd to him, but then again few had probably seen Ivy without seeing her as a criminal first, or being under her command through whatever means she utilized to control people. She blushed, but instead of her cheeks turning red they took on a darker shade of green. "Thank you, Matthew." Her smile seemed completely genuine, and that alone was enough to ease some of Kincaid's pain. Her smell became even more pleasant, heightened in potency, and he could have sworn that some of the plants around them grew a bit larger. "So you loved the park, and the plants there. That's why you protected them?"

"Yes…" Kincaid was more at ease thanks to her, but still found it difficult to talk. Somewhere in his mind he wondered just how hurt he really was. It seemed worse than she was letting on, though that alone was hard to fathom. "Always did… Always loved flowers… Trees… Couldn't… Couldn't stand to see… Them hurt it…" It was true, every word, and he made his best effort to tell this all to Ivy. The park had given him a deep love for nature. Anywhere with grass seemed to him to be a second home, a place where he could feel safe. The fond memories of the park, of the green trees and colorful flowers, had stayed with him since childhood. His meager apartment was virtually barren, aside from plants. A fern hung in the window over the kitchen sink. Two flowers, a tulip and a carnation, sat on the card table that served as his dining and living room, and a small bush was in the corner of this room next to his two-seat couch. In his bedroom was a bonsai tree, which he cared for meticulously, and on a shelf he had built just beneath his bedroom window was a planter with a set of his favorite white daffodils. He loved them most of all.

Ivy's smile grew warmer as Kincaid told his story. She watched him with an expression of tender care, both of her hands holding onto his one, which she had placed in her lap when she had moved closer to him. He finally got around to asking another question that was burning his mind, that of why she had saved him. She simply smiled, her beautiful green eyes half closed as if some part of her was at peace. "I saw what they were doing. The plants, they called for help. I went, but you were there first. Against those odds, you tried to protect them. That is why I did it." Ivy held Kincaid's hand up and kissed it, and he longed to have been able to feel her dark green lips touch his skin. "And with all you just told me, I know I made the right choice." The two simply stared at each other for a moment, smiles on both their faces as Ivy held the officer's hand to her cheek. Kincaid felt a kinship between them, a bond that had formed out of their shared passion.

Description
Matthew Kincaid shuddered, or he would have if he had the ability to move. Panic rose in him. Paralyzed… The word dug at him. It seemed to course through him, traveling along his veins more rapidly than his blood. The pain in his head increased as his heart rate rose and breath quickened, both of which felt considerably labored. There was an instinctual sort of fear and panic that came with the concept of paralysis. The inability to move, the thought of never being able to move again… The pain, both internal and external, was crushing. It tore at his soul and was inching closer to fracturing his mind.

Perhaps sensing this, or just so that she would not have to be around someone in such a state, the woman gently intertwined her fingers with his. He wouldn't have even known if he couldn't see it happening. The air seemed to thicken, but in a very calming and pleasant sort of way. The smell of her changed, still like the plants but with a different aroma. "You stopped those men from burning those plants. Why?" There seemed to be a general confusion in the tone of her question, as if she was truly perplexed as to why someone would make such an effort.

Kincaid felt that his head was swimming, but rather than a great discomfort it was more like he was in a warm bath. "First… What is… What is your name?" he said lazily, his eyes turning towards hers.

"Ivy," The woman replied, her voice soft but with a certain sort of command to it. To Kincaid, it sounded a little bit rehearsed, like a name she was just used to saying.

The officer shook his head, slowly, as each motion that he could manage seemed to require more effort than he was used to. "I know that…" Once his mind had pieced together the aspects of her appearance, as well as the vague memory of the plants attacking the thugs in the park, he had known who she was. Poison Ivy was one of Gotham's most notorious criminals and murderers. She had an ability to command plants and by all accounts was virtually one herself. "I knew… I know who you are…" Kincaid was still struggling to put words together. "But that's not… What is your… Your real name?"

Something about him seemed to touch her. Kincaid could not be sure what it was, whether it was his naturally gentle nature or his current condition. After a moment she finally answered him. "Pamela. Pamela Isley." It was clearly not a name she was used to saying anymore. It almost seemed like she regretted it.

Kincaid smiled as much as he could manage. "Gotham Police… Officer Matt… Matthew Kincaid…" He instinctually tried to extend his hand before the impossibility of the matter struck him. He glanced down at his hand and Ivy's eyes followed his. She seemed to understand what he was thinking and with a soft smile lifted his hand so that he could see, placed her hand in his, closed his fingers around hers, and shook his hand slowly. Kincaid returned her smile and mouthed a thank you.

"Pamela… The park…. Feller Park…" Hearing his own speech embarrassed him, as it sounded so halfhearted and broken. Ivy had asked a question though, and he was determined to answer. It took all of his effort to communicate. "I grew up there… Down the street… Spent all… All my time there… Planted flowers, trimmed bushes… Was my… My church, my sanctu… Sanctuary." Ivy was listening intently, still clutching his hand though without feeling in his body it was more for show than actual comfort. "Loved it… Took care of it… Trimmed bushes, raked leaves… Mowed the grass… Planted flowers… Loved the flowers…" Kincaid looked in her eyes which were locked on him, his own misty from pain and the tears his memories brought up. She wiped the corners of his eyes as he continued to stare at her. He was getting hazy again, his mind slipping. "You look… You look like a flower… Like a rose… So… So beautiful…"

Ivy seemed taken aback by his compliment, as if she was not used to receiving them. That seemed odd to him, but then again few had probably seen Ivy without seeing her as a criminal first, or being under her command through whatever means she utilized to control people. She blushed, but instead of her cheeks turning red they took on a darker shade of green. "Thank you, Matthew." Her smile seemed completely genuine, and that alone was enough to ease some of Kincaid's pain. Her smell became even more pleasant, heightened in potency, and he could have sworn that some of the plants around them grew a bit larger. "So you loved the park, and the plants there. That's why you protected them?"

"Yes…" Kincaid was more at ease thanks to her, but still found it difficult to talk. Somewhere in his mind he wondered just how hurt he really was. It seemed worse than she was letting on, though that alone was hard to fathom. "Always did… Always loved flowers… Trees… Couldn't… Couldn't stand to see… Them hurt it…" It was true, every word, and he made his best effort to tell this all to Ivy. The park had given him a deep love for nature. Anywhere with grass seemed to him to be a second home, a place where he could feel safe. The fond memories of the park, of the green trees and colorful flowers, had stayed with him since childhood. His meager apartment was virtually barren, aside from plants. A fern hung in the window over the kitchen sink. Two flowers, a tulip and a carnation, sat on the card table that served as his dining and living room, and a small bush was in the corner of this room next to his two-seat couch. In his bedroom was a bonsai tree, which he cared for meticulously, and on a shelf he had built just beneath his bedroom window was a planter with a set of his favorite white daffodils. He loved them most of all.

Ivy's smile grew warmer as Kincaid told his story. She watched him with an expression of tender care, both of her hands holding onto his one, which she had placed in her lap when she had moved closer to him. He finally got around to asking another question that was burning his mind, that of why she had saved him. She simply smiled, her beautiful green eyes half closed as if some part of her was at peace. "I saw what they were doing. The plants, they called for help. I went, but you were there first. Against those odds, you tried to protect them. That is why I did it." Ivy held Kincaid's hand up and kissed it, and he longed to have been able to feel her dark green lips touch his skin. "And with all you just told me, I know I made the right choice." The two simply stared at each other for a moment, smiles on both their faces as Ivy held the officer's hand to her cheek. Kincaid felt a kinship between them, a bond that had formed out of their shared passion.