Chapter 15: Heist Planning with Benefits
The sticky sweetness on Harmony’s lips had barely dried before Harley was moving, a whirlwind of sudden, focused energy. She gently extricated herself from the tangle of limbs, the intimate moment dissolving as if it had never been. Ivy’s arms loosened their hold, her expression shifting from possessive to wary.
“Okay, fun’s over, kiddos! Time for the main event,” Harley chirped, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She bounded back to her hidden crevice, the one that had yielded the miraculous ice cream. This time, she pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper, smudged and creased from repeated handling. “Been savin’ this for a rainy day. Or, y’know, a day when we’re bored out of our skulls down here.”
She dropped to her knees on the soft moss and unfurled the blueprint with a dramatic flourish. The paper was a patchwork of crude, hand-drawn lines, frantic notes scrawled in red and black marker, and what looked like a stained, official floor plan that had been violently altered.
Harmony leaned forward, her heart still thumping from the previous intensity. The lines and symbols were a chaotic mess. “What is it?”
“Freedom, sugarplum! And a whole lot of shiny, shiny rocks.” Harley’s eyes were wide, the pupils dilated in the grotto’s low light. She jabbed a finger at a central chamber on the plan. “The Gotham Natural History Museum. Specifically, the Hall of Gems and Minerals. They’re having some stuffy donor gala there next Thursday. Black tie, champagne, the whole snooze-fest.”
Ivy rose slowly, a silent specter moving to stand over them. She peered down at the blueprint, her arms crossed. “Quinn.”
“Hear me out, Red! It’s perfect.” Harley’s finger traced a path through the building. “The security grid is top-notch for the plebs, but for us? Pfft. A joke.” She looked up at Ivy, a wicked grin splitting her face. “This is where you come in. The main alarm sensors are in the air ducts. You make your little children grow through ‘em. Not break ‘em, just… coax a nice, thick vine right through the mechanism. The system reads it as a malfunction, not a breach. They’ll be resetting their own alarms for us.”
A slow, calculating smile touched Ivy’s lips. It was the first real sign of interest she’d shown. “The humidity from so many people… it would be a fertile environment.”
“See? You’re already on board!” Harley crowed. She then turned her blazing gaze to Harmony. “And bunny here?” She reached out, her thumb, still faintly smelling of chocolate, stroked Harmony’s cheek. “You’re our pretty little distraction.”
Harmony’s breath hitched. “Me? How?”
“Oh, you’ll be perfect.” Harley’s voice was a singsong taunt. “You’ve got that whole ‘lost little lamb’ thing down pat. No one will suspect a thing. You just have to wander near the security office, maybe trip and spill a drink on a guard. Look scared and pretty. It’s what you’re good at.”
The words should have stung, but they were delivered with such fondness that Harmony felt a strange thrill instead of insult. She was being given a role. A purpose.
Ivy’s gaze was heavy on her. “It’s a considerable risk. For a few minerals.”
“Not just any minerals, Pammy!” Harley insisted, tapping the blueprint again. “The Star of Gujarat is the centerpiece. A 400-carat sapphire. And it’s not just for bling.” Her manic energy subsided for a moment, replaced by a cold, practical sharpness. “We fence that, we’re set up for months. We can get out of this city. Find a place where no one asks questions.”
The promise hung in the air, thick and tangible as the grotto’s mist. A place beyond Arkham’s damp walls. Harmony looked from Harley’s desperate, hopeful face to Ivy’s guarded, considering one. The plan was insane. It was reckless. It was everything she’d been taught to fear.
But the memory of Harley’s tongue catching the ice cream from her chin was more immediate than any fear. The feeling of Ivy’s arms around her was more solid than any warning.
“Okay,” Harmony whispered, the word leaving her lips before she could consciously form it.
Harley’s grin was blinding. “That’s my girl.”
Ivy let out a soft, resigned breath, a leaf drifting to the moss floor. She gave a single, slow nod. “The plans stay with me. I’ll need to study the ventilation routes.”
“All yours, Red.” Harley shoved the crumpled blueprint toward Ivy, her job as instigator seemingly complete. She flopped onto her back, staring up at the glowing canopy of fungi with a contented sigh. “A real girls’ night out. It’ll be just like old times. But, y’know, with a new mascot.”
Harmony hugged her knees to her chest, the cool moss seeping through the strange fabric of her clothes. The grotto no longer felt like just a hiding place. It felt like a war room. The gentle drip of water from the cavern ceiling sounded like a countdown.
The gentle drip of water from the cavern ceiling sounded like a countdown.
For three days, the grotto hummed with a new, electric purpose. Ivy had claimed the blueprint, her long fingers tracing the ventilation routes with a quiet intensity that left no room for interruption. Harley, meanwhile, drilled Harmony on guard behavior and museum layout with the fervor of a deranged camp counselor.
“No, no, sugarplum, you don’t just look scared,” Harley corrected, pacing in front of Harmony who was trying to mimic a clumsy stumble. “You look deliciously helpless. It’s an art form! Big eyes, a little lip tremble. Think ‘wounded fawn’, but, like, a hot one.”
Harmony practiced in the reflective surface of a still pool, her attempts feeling wooden and absurd. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You will,” Ivy’s voice cut through from the shadows where she was weaving something from thin, supple vines. “Because the alternative is staying here. Forever.”
On the fourth day, Ivy finally uncoiled from her work. She held a garment that seemed spun from moonlight and shadow, a living thing plucked from the grotto’s own dark heart. “It’s time for your costume.”
Harmony’s breath caught. The outfit was a web of silvery-grey vines, so finely woven they felt like cool silk against her skin. They were intertwined with the grotto’s luminescent fungi, which pulsed with a soft, eerie light. It was barely there, a strategic latticework that covered just enough to suggest everything it left exposed.
“Whoa, Red,” Harley whistled, circling Harmony. “You’ve outdone yourself. It’s like she’s been dressed by the forest itself. A really, really naughty forest.”
Ivy ignored her, her green eyes fixed on Harmony. “It’s a second skin. It will move with you. Breathe with you.” She helped Harmony into it, the vines clinging and adjusting to her form as if they were alive. The touch was intimate, clinical, and possessive all at once.
The cool air of the grotto kissed parts of her body that had never felt it before. Harmony looked down at herself, at the map of glowing lines and shadows tracing her petite frame. She felt a hot flush of shame, immediately followed by a strange, thrilling surge of power.
“They won’t be looking at your face, bunny,” Harley murmured, her gaze appreciative and sharp. “They’ll be too busy trying to see if the lights are on because you’re home.”
Ivy placed a final, living piece: a collar of dark, poisonous-looking blooms that nestled at the base of Harmony’s throat. Their scent was intoxicating and dangerous. “There. You are the perfect distraction. A beautiful, fragile thing they’ll all want to touch.” She leaned close, her voice a whisper in Harmony’s ear. “But only we know you’re poisonous.”
Harmony looked at her reflection in the pool again. The girl staring back was a creature of myth and madness, no longer a lost lamb but a lure. The plan was no longer just lines on a stolen blueprint; it was etched onto her own skin, and for the first time, the countdown in the dripping water felt like it was beating in time with her own heart.
The luminescent fungi on Harmony’s skin pulsed with a slow, anxious rhythm that mirrored her own heartbeat. “I feel… exposed,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the intricate lattice of vines.
Harley popped a stolen gummy bear into her mouth, crunching down with gusto. “That’s the point, sweetcheeks. You’re the shiny thing that makes the crows look the other way.” She winked, her smile all sharp edges and glee. “Besides, you look hot. Own it.”
Ivy’s hand, cool and firm, settled on Harmony’s bare shoulder. “The city is waiting. The air is thick with exhaust and ambition. It will choke on its own greed tonight.” Her touch was both a comfort and a command, the poisonous blooms at Harmony’s throat seeming to tighten in response.
They moved through a fissure in the grotto wall that Harmony had never noticed, hidden behind a waterfall of glowing blue moss. The passage was narrow and damp, smelling of deep earth and forgotten things. Harley led the way, her movements a silent, practiced dance in the near-darkness.
Ivy’s vines slithered ahead of them, pushing roots into cracks and prying open a path through the stone. The sound was a low, grinding whisper that set Harmony’s teeth on edge. “Don’t fall behind,” Ivy said, her voice echoing slightly in the cramped space.
They climbed for what felt like hours, the air growing gradually colder and tasting of concrete and rain. A grating shifted above them, revealing a sliver of smoky night sky and the distant wail of a Gotham police siren. Harley shoved it aside with a grunt, hauling herself up into a grimy alley.
The transition was jarring. One moment they were in a living, breathing cavern, the next they were surrounded by dripping fire escapes and overflowing dumpsters. The city’s noise was a physical assault after the grotto’s silence. Harmony shivered, the living costume clinging tighter to her skin as if for protection.
Harley brushed dirt from her shorts, her eyes scanning the alley’s mouth with a predator’s focus. “Look at you, Bunny. Your first real night out.” She reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a compact, handing it to Harmony. “A little touch-up. Gotta look the part.”
Harmony stared at her reflection in the small mirror. The girl looking back was a stranger, her hazel eyes wide with a mixture of terror and exhilaration, her brown curls tangled with silvery vines. The glowing fungi cast an otherworldly light on her face, making her look like a ghost who had forgotten how to be dead.
Ivy placed a hand on the alley wall, her fingers digging into the mortar between the bricks. A network of thin, green tendrils spread from her touch, snaking upward toward the rooftops. “My children are in position. They feel the vibration of the party through the stone.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Harley grinned, grabbing Harmony’s hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. “Let’s go crash a party.”
They moved through the shadows like water, Harley pulling Harmony along while Ivy melted into the darkness behind them. The sounds of the gala—a string quartet, the clink of glasses, the murmur of polite conversation—grew louder, spilling from the museum’s grand entrance.
They stopped at a service entrance, a heavy metal door painted a dull, institutional green. Harley produced a set of lockpicks from her hair, humming a tuneless song as she worked. The lock clicked with a sound like a final, surrendering breath.
Harley pushed the door open just a crack, a sliver of golden light and the scent of champagne cutting through the alley’s filth. She turned to Harmony, her blue eyes utterly lucid and burning with intent.
“Okay, girls,” Harley whispered, her voice dropping to a low, thrilling wire of sound. She squeezed Harmony’s hand once, a quick, sharp pulse of reassurance and madness. “It’s time for the heist.”
The service door sighed shut behind them, sealing out the alley’s grime and plunging them into a sterile, humming silence. The air smelled of industrial cleaner and stale electricity, a stark contrast to the grotto’s living damp. Before them stretched a long, poorly lit corridor of concrete block, the distant thrum of the string quartet a ghost in the walls.
“Okay, places,” Harley whispered, her voice tight with excitement. She pointed a finger down the left branch of a T-junction. “Security office is that way, fifty feet. You’ll see the window.” She then nudged Ivy toward the right. “Vents are up there. We’ve got ten minutes before the main sensor reset.”
Ivy didn’t speak. She simply pressed a palm against a grated opening in the wall, her eyes closing in concentration. A single, dark green vine began to snake its way silently into the metal ductwork, its growth an audible, creeping rustle.
Harmony’s heart hammered against the living collar of flowers at her throat. The glowing fungi on her skin suddenly felt garish and obvious. “What if I can’t—”
“You can,” Harley cut her off, grabbing her chin. Her gaze was unnervingly steady. “Just be the lost, pretty thing. It’s what you are. Now go.”
She gave Harmony a gentle push down the left corridor. The command was absolute. Harmony walked, her bare feet silent on the cool concrete, the vines of her costume shifting with each step. The glow from her skin cast moving, bioluminescent patterns on the grey walls.
She rounded a slight bend and saw it: a wide window of reinforced glass looking into a dimly lit room. Two guards in dark uniforms were inside, their faces bathed in the blue light of a bank of security monitors. One was older, with a tired slump to his shoulders, the other younger, scrolling idly on his phone.
This was it. Her part. Her stomach twisted into a cold knot. She thought of the grotto, of the ice cream, of Harley’s tongue on her chin and Ivy’s arms around her. She was their bunny. Their distraction.
She took a deep breath, let it shudder out, and then stumbled into the pool of light directly in front of the security window. She made a small, choked sound, perfectly pitched to convey helpless confusion.
The younger guard looked up first. His phone clattered onto the desk. His eyes widened, traveling the length of her luminous, near-naked form. “What the hell?”
The older guard turned, his reaction slower, more cautious. “Miss? This is a restricted area. You can’t be here.”
Harmony hugged her arms around herself, making the vines shift and the light on her skin pulse erratically. She let her lower lip tremble, just as Harley had coached. “I… I got lost,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “The party… it was so loud. I just needed some air.”
She took a wobbling step closer to the window, putting her hands against the glass as if for support. The move stretched the lattice of vines across her torso, emphasizing her fragility. Both men were staring now, utterly captivated. The younger one was already halfway out of his chair.
“It’s okay, miss,” the older guard said, though his tone was wary. He reached for his radio. “We’ll just call someone to come get you.”
“Please, don’t,” Harmony pleaded, letting a real tear well in her eye. The fear was no longer an act; it was a live wire in her chest. She pressed her body closer to the glass, a shimmering, tragic spectacle. “I’m so embarrassed. Just… can you help me?”
The younger guard was at the door now, opening it. “It’s alright, we’ve got you.” His eyes were full of a dazed, concerned hunger. He was completely out of the room, his partner following, their attention a solid, tangible thing focused entirely on her.
Harmony took a shaky step back, leading them further from the doorway, further from their screens. She had them. She was doing it. A wild, terrifying thrill shot through her. She was the shiny thing. The poisonous flower.
She met the younger guard’s eyes and gave him a small, broken smile.
The younger guard’s face softened, all professional caution evaporating under the heat of her performance. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured, taking another step toward her shimmering form. His partner hung back, a flicker of uncertainty in his tired eyes as he scanned the strange, glowing patterns on her skin.
From the corner of her eye, Harmony saw a blur of motion. Harley, low and silent as a shadow, slipped through the security office’s open doorway. The older guard’s head started to turn. “Hey, what—”
Harmony let out a sharp, convincing sob, stumbling forward as if her legs were giving out. She fell against the younger guard, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, the luminescent vines pressing into his uniform. “I’m just so scared,” she choked into his ear, her body blocking his entire field of view. He froze, his hands hovering awkwardly, unsure where to land on her nearly bare back.
Inside the office, Harley’s hands flew across the keyboard, muttering a cheerful string of curses. “C’mon, you fossil… password protected? How predictable.” She pulled a small device from her hair and jammed it into a USB port. The screens flickered once, then went dark.
A low, grinding hum vibrated through the floor, followed by a series of distant, metallic clunks. Up in the vents, Ivy’s children had finished their work, their thick tendrils now peacefully obstructing every laser tripwire and pressure sensor. The main alarm system winked from armed to standby without a single siren sounding.
Harley popped back out of the room, giving a thumbs-up. “Aaaand we’re clear! The museum is officially open for business, folks.” She winked at Harmony, who was still clinging to the flustered guard. “Show’s over, bunny. Time to ditch the audience.”
Harmony released her grip, the spell broken. The young guard looked dazed, his face flushed. “Wait, I don’t understand—”
“You’ve been a fantastic distraction, sugar,” Harley said, patting his cheek condescendingly as she passed. She grabbed Harmony’s hand, her grip firm and pulling her away from the confused men. “But we’ve got a date with a big, blue rock.”
They melted back into the service corridor, leaving the two guards standing bewildered in the hallway. Ivy fell into step beside them, a faint, satisfied smile on her lips. “The path is clear. The air tastes of confusion now.”
Harley’s laughter echoed lightly off the concrete walls. “Told you you’d be perfect.” She squeezed Harmony’s hand, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Now for the fun part.”
THE REST OF THE PLAN TAKES PLACE