Pick Your Poison, Tuesday

[joan_of_bark]

Well. There sure was something going on with Harley. Her Harley, that beautiful cloud of chaos that kept slipping through the cracks of her life every time she thought she'd caught it--

But while Pam waited for that to shake out however it was going to shake out, she was... here, when she wasn't in Slaughter Swamp.

Still trying to make enough antidotes to protect a whole city. Still having to do this - go downstairs, pour herself a large glass of water, sit down on the sofa - every few hours to make up for the resulting blood loss.

"This was definitely easier when I still had nigh-omnipotent power over nature," she muttered, patting one of her bigger swamp milkweeds.

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[pocketpretzels]

"Dr. Isley," Watts greeted as he made his way into the shop, a leaf already in hand, being twirled between his fingers.

Whether that had been a conscious choice to avoid plucking one from one of her plants or mere coincidence was up for debate.

[joan_of_bark]

And for a moment a whole gamut of feelings was plain on Pam's face: first, deep annoyance, then confusion, then realisation, a hint of shallower annoyance, contemplation, and finally, resignation.

Well, at least it wasn't one of her plants.

She got up a moment after, and merely said, "Detective Watts. Welcome back," so clearly some kind of detente had been achieved.

[pocketpretzels]

That certainly was a face journey, though if Watts noticed it at all, he didn't comment on it.

"How are you?" he asked.

[joan_of_bark]

"Well, I don't have a crying Harley sleeping on my couch anymore," Pam said. Mildly. Sort of. "So better than last week."

The politeness filter was purely for weeks without Harley incident, sorry, Watts.

[pocketpretzels]

Watts did flinch slightly at that, though it was more due to the incident referenced than her tone.

"Ah. Yes. I did- hear about that."

[joan_of_bark]

"I would assume so, since your husband apparently shares a few things with him," Pam said. She brought her glass up to her mouth. "Oh. And congratulations, I suppose."

[pocketpretzels]

"Thank you," Watts said sincerely, before her first comment caught up with him. "Shares- Ah. You- didn't know?" he asked, slightly surprised.

[joan_of_bark]

"Why do I keep getting that question?" Pam wondered. "Do I look like I go around town shaking people down for gossip about people I don't know?"

Though ugh, now she was getting distracted away from her actual righteous anger at Watts' husband's infuriating alter.

[pocketpretzels]

"You look like you don't care much for gossip at all," Watts said. "I just thought- perhaps Dr. Quinn might have mentioned it to you, is all."

[joan_of_bark]

"She hasn't talked about Marc much at all," Pam said. Admittedly that was partially because she and Harley had been too busy having their own little explosive dramas at each other like the sapphic disasters they were, but still. "Until recently."

[pocketpretzels]

"When things," Watts twirled a hand, the one holding the leaf, for emphasis. "Went south."

[joan_of_bark]

"Nice euphemism," Pam said dryly. She would've used stronger terms. "But yes."

[pocketpretzels]

"I am sorry about that," Watts said genuinely. "For all my involvement was- peripheral."

[joan_of_bark]

"I hope Marc knows he's lucky I've been trying to learn to forgive and forget," Pam said flatly. (Was this an awkward time to have the your-husband's-alter's-ex's-ex-is-technically-a-supervillain conversation?)

She looked aside, at the plants, apparently contemplating that herself, and--

"That aside... Would you like some tea, Detective Watts?"

[pocketpretzels]

"I would love some," Watts admitted, not at all thrown by the abrupt conversational shift.

[joan_of_bark]

There were definitely people in Gotham City who'd warn against taking tea from Poison Ivy at a time like this. (She wasn't planning anything. But they would.)

"I'll be back in a moment," Pam said, walking into the back room.

[pocketpretzels]

Funny story, but Watts had once come dangerously close to ingesting a strychnine-laced hot dog given to him by a preteen with a rather deadly grudge against him.

He nodded, watching her go. And since the offer of tea meant he might be staying a while, took his hat off and perched it on- well, it wasn't a hat rack. But at least it wasn't also a plant pot?

[joan_of_bark]

"Are you allergic to anything?" Pam called. "Most of my tea is herbal."

[pocketpretzels]

"Allergic?" Watts echoed, needing a moment to recall the definition of the word. "Ah. No. No. Not so far as I am aware."

[joan_of_bark]

So Pam reached for the sumac berries, and a little goldenrod, and got the water heating up. "As I've said before, I prefer to use local products," she called. "Not a lot of tea bushes in Maryland."

[pocketpretzels]

"I recall!" he replied. He then looked a little sheepish, not that she could see it. "I should have brought you some bread," he added, sounding regretful. "I ended up finding some of that rice flour you mentioned."

[joan_of_bark]

"Maybe next time," Pam said, as she walked back into the storefront with two steaming cups in her hands.

You know, if she stuck to her current plan of 'not murdering everyone involved in hurting Harley', which was still a maybe. "For now, have some sumac tea. I handpicked some a few weeks ago."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts's only involvement in that was as a bystander; in fact he had been actively hoping for things with Marc and Harley to go well, so.

"Haven't had that before," he noted, holding a hand out for one of the cups.

[joan_of_bark]

Ah, yes, Poison Ivy, well-known for her willingness to limit splash damage.

"Most people haven't," she said, handing it to him. "It's much easier to find tea shipped here from ruined rainforests halfway across the globe than what's in our own backyard."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts didn't actually know 'Poison Ivy' at all!

"A topic you clearly feel strongly about," he observed, taking a careful sip.