Fought Through Clue Inspection

Below the swimming pool’s surface, the cold and darkness had hindered Batgirl’s efforts to pick the lock on the treasure chest. The lock would quickly cool and possibly freeze solid. It might have done so already, for all Batgirl knew. So far, residual heat in the chemically treated water had kept the surface from freezing. This lingering heat was rapidly dissipating with each passing second.

Batgirl managed to focus and swim once again to the bottom of the pool, resisting the constant urge to scratch herself. At the bottom, she felt for the chest. She decided finding it by feel would be faster than using her waterproof Batlight, for which she would have had to fumble with her quickly numbing fingers. Before long she found the chest. Her hands explored its familiar surface until she found the lock. The pick slid into place and returned to work.

She was nagged by negative thoughts. Poison Ivy might be lying; the chest could well be empty; it could contain a placebo; or, worse yet, more of Ivy’s noxious chemicals.

Yet, the villainess and her assistants had remained immune to the gas that had plagued the Mayor, the Dynamic Duo, and the crowd at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony. This fact suggested an antidote did, if fact, exist.

Also, Ivy had shown up for the appointment she had made with Batgirl. The Foliated Fiend’s presence, though to ambush Batgirl, demonstrated she had told the truth to a point. The ambush was significant because it allowed Batgirl’s Arboreal Attacker to place the heroine in relative jeopardy.

Often, in Batgirl’s experience, villains would happily reveal their plans to a helpless, doomed victims before leaving their horrific fate to unfold, thus rendering information they obtained useless.

Batgirl hoped the bait Poison Ivy had used to get her into the treacherously toxic waters was worth the trouble to which the heroine was going, yet she would not, could not, be certain until she retrieved it.

Meanwhile, Batgirl’s body itched.

‘Focus!’ she silently told herself.

She kept working at the lock.

Her lungs ached for breath. She considered accessing her emergency oxygen supply, but decided, for the moment at least, using her numbing fingers to fumble for it along her belt would waste precious time.

Grudgingly, she let out a small amount of air. It bubbled to the surface of the liquid in which she swam to burst and be released into the atmosphere. Her breath represented more heat escaping from the pool.

Suddenly, the lock popped open.

Seconds later, something sprang at Batgirl from the interior of the chest.

Bubbles and rubber assailed her, driving her toward the surface. Breaching, she gulped air greedily and looked down at her objective. Something was inflating beneath her, displacing the tainted water beneath her and shrinking the space between the surface of the pool and the grating Poison Ivy had closed above it. Rubber pressed against her, forcing her away from the precious antidote and distorting its location in her mind.

“Poison Ivy is full of surprises tonight,” Batgirl muttered before filling her lungs once again.

Batgirl exchanged her lock pick for a knife and slashed at the rubberized thing pushing her upward.

The sudden release of whatever had begun inflating beneath Batgirl had distracted her from the itch she longed to scratch. The itch was spreading. “With this blade, I could scratch more effectively . . .

What am I thinking!?

Batgirl slashed again at the rubber rising toward her and plunged through the bubbles that rose to meet her. She encountered more rubber and cut her way through it as well. At the bottom of the pool, she searched frantically for the open chest. She encountered even more rubber and hacked through it, wrenching the refuse aside as she moved forward.

When she finally reached the chest, she thrust her hand inside and felt around. Her fingers brushed something, closed around the rectangular object, and tightly gripped it. Batgirl pushed off the bottom of the pool and shot toward the surface. Her hands encountered the deflated rubber barrier floating on the surface of the pool and Poison Ivy’s plan became clear.

Unless Batgirl penetrated it, she would drown unless hypothermia killed her first. Her emergency compressed air supply would delay drowning, just as her overwhelmed thermal underwear would delay hypothermia. In the end, however, she would be defeated unless she passed beyond the deflated rubber covering the semisolid surface of the pool. Worse, her confrontation with Poison Ivy would have been in vain.

Batgirl’s knife thrust upward and slit the rubber skin covering the pool. A slash formed an aperture through which Batgirl climbed. She exhaled and promptly filled her lungs as she flopped onto the rubber surface.

Suddenly, Batgirl needed to scratch most of her body. She put her knife away and did so, vigorously, until the wind and the cold puddle in which she was lying made her shiver and her teeth chatter.

“I’ve g-g-g-got to g-g-g-get out of here!”

She breathed on her gloved hands and found the point where the two sides of the grill covering the pool came together. Batgirl thrust her hand upward and managed to slide her fingers between the halves of the grill. “Must k-k-k-keep the antidote.”

The package was too large to fit into her utility belt. Batgirl tucked the hard-won prize under her chin and reached for the grill with her now-free hand. She hung momentarily from her outstretched arms with the antidote tucked under her chin and began to push the halves of the grill apart.

The metal grill refused to budge!

“It’s st-t-t-t-uck in p-p-p-place,” Batgirl said, reaching for the Batlaser at her hip. “F-F-F-Frozen t-t-t-together.” The light beam quickly warmed the metal, causing water to drip, splashing Batgirl repeatedly and making her shiver. She became aware her breath had formed a visible cloud lingering in the air as she put her Batlaser away. “Now!”

Batgirl began to apply her strength to the metal grill above her and slowly her hands began to separate. The second layer of pool covering protested, but gradually yielded to her strength. When the opening between the grill halves was wide enough to slip her head through, she carefully dropped the antidote from beneath her chin onto the metal grill. Then, she renewed her efforts. Batgirl soon slid her entire body through the opening and collapsed, panting beside the antidote. The partially retracted cover closed again beneath her.

“I’ve g-g-g-got to g-g-g-get inside!”

Batgirl stood and carefully moved to the edge of the pool, carrying the antidote. She stepped onto solid ground and hurried, dripping and shivering, to the nearest door of Poison Ivy’s mansion.

The door was locked.

Batgirl realized her lock pick had frozen in place in her utility belt!

“Not g-g-g-good,” she muttered as she pulled her backup from her glove. Still shivering, she blew on her hands and attacked the lock. The tiny tool did its work quickly and Batgirl stepped out of the wind and into the mansion. “B-b-b-better.”

Sheltered now, Batgirl realized her thermal underwear, designed to draw moisture away from her body to keep her drier and therefore warmer, had been saturated—overwhelmed. Though the cleverly designed cloth would strive to wick moisture away from her skin and spread it out over the fabric’s surface for quick drying, Batgirl was not certain it could be relied upon to keep her warm in her current situation. Her fingers, once they had put her lock pick away, began to vigorously massage her body for warmth. Then she became aware that they had curled and begun to tentatively scratch at her costume.

In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and examined the purported antidote. It was packed in a watertight package and consisted of three capsules. Batgirl realized she faced a choice: should she take the alleged antidote immediately or take it to the hospital to be analyzed?

The capsule might contain instant death. On the other hand, if she waited and succumbed to the effects of the itching chemical, she would have wasted the chance to save Batman and Robin, as well as herself. Batgirl had risked her life for the capsules and any delay in their use might endanger innocent lives, particularly if the irrational urge to scratch seized her as she raced to Batman and Robin’s rescue on Gotham City’s roads.

Batgirl reached her decision quickly and swallowed one of the capsules.

Now the Dominoed Daredoll faced another choice. She could search the mansion or immediately take the remaining capsules to the Dynamic Duo. She sneezed and reached for her cell phone.

“How are Batman and Robin?” she asked the doctor, once she had reached him.

“We’ve tried to keep them sedated. They’re resting now.”

“Good, I’ll come by with what’s supposed to be the antidote within a couple hours. I’d leave now, but I’m freezing and need to get warm first.” She sneezed again.

“I’ll see you when you get here, Batgirl. Please hurry.”

“I will.”

While Batgirl was no longer tracking liquid through the mansion with every step, she was still chilled to the bone. As she moved, though, she felt warmth building within her from the core of her being and creeping to her extremities. A smile curled her lips as she thought about the air pockets built into her thermal underwear for insulation. These and the material’s wicking action were performing impressively. Perhaps Super Thermo B Long Underwear; the improved Batthermal Underwear; or Super Thermalized Batskivies, the latest development in the Bat-warmth retaining technology, were overrated.

She moved through the rooms of the deserted mansion searching for clues to Poison Ivy’s plans. She found nothing, but was confident, after the search, that she could ride her Batgirlcycle to the hospital without freezing to death.

Before leaving, she retracted the grills covering the pool and drew samples of Poison Ivy’s chemical. A light shone in her face as Batgirl straightened. “Freeze! We’ve got you covered!”

“Put that away!” another voice instructed. “It’s Batgirl.”

“Batgirl?” a young police officer asked. “Wow!”

As the light moved from Batgirl’s face, the blinking heroine realized two officers had arrived. The younger one was holstering his gun and staring at Batgirl while his senior stepped forward.

“There was a silent alarm here, Batgirl. Can you help us explain it?”

“A criminal called Poison Ivy lured me here and tried to kill me. The bait for her trap was the antidote to a chemical with which she attacked Batman and Robin last night. We need to reach them as soon as possible,” Batgirl said and sneezed.

“Bless you,” said the senior officer.

“You didn’t answer the question,” the junior officer pointed out.

The older man frowned at the rookie. “It will be warmer in the car, Batgirl. Give my partner your keys.”

“What’s the idea?” the younger officer asked.

“Follow us on the Batgirlcycle,” the senior officer said.

“On that thing?!” the young man complained, horrified, as he pointed at Batgirl’s purple mode of conveyance.

“You should be honored!” the veteran chided. “I bet it has more power than the department’s motorcycles.”

“Thank you,” Batgirl said. “We’d better go.” She directed the officers to the hospital.

The Dynamic Duo’s old friend, Dr. Vince, was in charge of their care. Batgirl explained what had happened as she gave the remaining capsules to the doctor.

“We’ll have the lab analyze a small amount of this, stat,” Dr. Vince said. Then, with genuine concern, he looked appraisingly at Batgirl. “How do you feel?”

“Except for a lingering cold, I feel fine. The antidote seems to work.” Batgirl reached for a handy tissue and blew her nose. “I took one of the capsules at Poison Ivy’s mansion and have not felt the urge to scratch myself since.”

“You took a terrible risk,” the doctor observed.

“I had to.”

Preliminary analysis indicated nothing harmful in the capsules. Reluctantly, Dr. Vince ordered Batman and Robin to be revived.

A short time later, after taking the antidote, the Dynamic Duo were deemed well enough to have visitors. Following greetings, Batgirl related her experiences to her partners in crime fighting.

“Good work, Batgirl,” the Caped Crusader praised.

“Is the analysis of the capsules the only clue we have to lead us to Poison Ivy?”

“No. I also have a sample of her itching chemical,” Batgirl said. “Maybe it would be easier for you to do the work up on this.” She handed Robin a sealed test tube.

“We’ll take this sample back to the Batcave for analysis,” Robin proposed, “and report our findings to Commissioner Gordon.”

“Good,” Batgirl said. “I have my own clue to follow.”

“Excellent,” Batman said. “A two-pronged investigation is more likely to get results.”

“Thank you again, Batgirl,” Robin said. “I hope you get over that cold soon.”

“You’re welcome, Dynamic Duo, and thank you.” She paused to stifle a sneeze. “I hope so, too. We’ll keep in touch.”

Batgirl was grateful to return to the friendly confines of Barbara Gordon’s Midtown apartment. She carefully removed her costume and put it into a tub of cleaning solution. Nevertheless, Barbara would have to be certain Poison Ivy’s chemical had been rendered harmless before wearing that particular costume again.

Her next move was to sink into a steamy tub of water. Compared to the soaking Poison Ivy had administered during their last two encounters, the hot bath was heavenly. She was alive and Batman and Robin were recovering. Babs decided she had earned the luxurious interlude. She closed her eyes and yawned.

Much later, Barbara opened her eyes, drained the tub, toweled herself dry, and slipped into a fluffy robe and fleeced slippers. She prepared a bowel of chicken soup and sat at her computer to examine the card Poison Ivy had used to lure her to her death.

“Maybe she gave me a clue here, Charlie,” Barbara said to her pet bird.

She identified the common typeface the printing used, determined the size of the print and looked up florists in Gotham City to try to identify Poison Ivy’s alternative hideout. She had no success. Resignedly she held the card by its edges and stared at the message with a lamp behind it. As she concentrated on the card, she discerned a shadow in one corner.

“It’s a watermark,” she murmured. Her scanner reproduced the mark and she initiated a search comparing it to watermarks in a database she had developed. As her computer worked, she ate her soup and tossed tissue after tissue into her wastebasket. “This will take time. I’m exhausted.” She stood and rinsed her soup bowl. “I need some medicine, too.”

Slowly, she prepared for bed, crawled in, and surrendered gratefully to sleep.

Meanwhile, in Poison Ivy’s secret hideout in the Green Forest district of Gotham City, the ruthless redhead’s conniving companions added a trio of conifers to the Fiendish Forester’s filched foliage.

”Well done, girls,” Poison Ivy praised. “Tell me all about your adventures.”

The three stories were similar.

Veronica began. “I took Doleman’s, the department store. I let the itching gas circulate through the vents for about half an hour. As we all know, Doleman’s is Lacey’s most fierce competitor. When I came in, everyone was too busy scratching to interfere with my work.”

“For such fierce competitors, Lacey’s and Doleman’s seem quite evenly matched,” Poison Ivy observed as she looked at Betsy’s stolen arbor. “The trees you brought in are exactly the same size.”

“At F. A. O. Swartz, the upscale toy store, on fashionable Fifteenth Avenue, I found the patrons, or rather their mommies, had more money for me to steal than the store’s cash on hand, which I also purloined,” Nancy said with a satisfied laugh, “and I’m not even counting the other goodies those lovely, loot-laden ladies provided.”

“At Lacey’s, I had no trouble making off with the tree. They have lots of helpful loading equipment in their warehouse,” Betsy explained. “The job went as smooth as silk.” Then she waved her hand at a large collection of upscale women’s clothes. “Oh, and I took those from the women’s department as well.”

“Wonderful!” Poison Ivy said. “We’ll all try them on once we’ve finished preparing for our next job. Soon, we’ll have enough cash and goodies to keep our fortunes green for a very long time. Fighting the battles I’ve chosen is worthwhile, but not very profitable, unless we take certain steps.”

“The cost of victory is always high,” Veronica said philosophically.

“Right,” Nancy agreed. “It can, however, be quite painless, when others are made to bear it.”

“Making our enemies pay the price sounds good,” Betsy commented. “You expect them to track us down, though, don’t you, boss?”

“Never mind about our enemies,“ Veronica encouraged. “Tell us about the job.”

“In due time, Veronica,” Poison Ivy dreamily said. “Let me water the seed Betsy just planted and assure you Batman, Robin, and especially Batgirl will have long been scratched and buried six feet beneath the ground by the time we pull this job.” Their leader paused as the four fiendish females laughed delightedly. “Before we proceed, however, I want to verify the measures we’ve taken against them have succeeded. Now, let’s get to work replenishing our itching gas and antidote supplies. Once we know the Terrific Trio is out of the way, we’ll have use for a lot more chemicals.”

“I’m sorry for bringing up the possibility, but suppose they elude our efforts?” Veronica asked. “Our enemies face life-threatening situations all the time and come through them relatively unscathed.”

“As impossible as the scenario you suggest is, Veronica,” Poison Ivy replied, “I almost hope Batgirl was successful, because the alternative measures I’ve prepared to eliminate the Terrific Trio are delightfully devious, wonderfully wicked, and will prove exquisitely effective should we be forced to employ them.” Everyone delightedly laughed again.

As Batgirl rested and Poison Ivy schemed, the well-rested, recovered Dynamic Duo spent a sleepless night in the Batcave, analyzing the chemical sample Batgirl had provided.

“We’ve determined its composition,” Robin said. “Now, how will we use that information against Poison Ivy?”

“In two ways, Robin. We can determine what combination of chemicals will prevent her toxin from taking effect, and, with luck, we’ll find a unique characteristic that will give us a clue to where it was manufactured.”

“You think she made it locally?”

“Yes, I do, old chum.” As Batman spoke, he took an empty syringe, alcohol, and a cotton ball.

“What are you doing?”

“There may be clues in the antidote, too.”

“Holy Health Care! Dr. Vince just wanted to be sure the antidote wouldn’t harm us. We may be able to come up with more information.”

“Precisely,” Batman said, removing his left glove and rolling up the corresponding sleeve. He inverted the alcohol over the cotton ball and swabbed a circle of skin on his forearm. “Here we go.” He plunged the needle from the syringe into his arm and filled the syringe with his blood. He removed the needle, set it aside, bandaged his small wound, replaced the sleeve and glove, retrieved his needle, and sterilized it in a flame. “A comparison to the file of my blood composition should reveal the chemical makeup of the antidote.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Robin asked, as Batman began to retrieve the information he needed from the Batcomputer.

“Does Dick Grayson have school work he needs to be doing?”

“Holy Homework! With all that’s happened, I almost forgot the independent study course I signed up for next semester. This is a great opportunity to get ahead.”

“A sound mind and a healthy body are essential tools for any crime fighter.”

“I’ll get my books and a thermos of coffee. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“You’re sure?” Robin cautioned. “Remember, Alfred is asleep.”

“It’s okay. I’d prefer to concentrate on the case, for now.”

“You’ll let me know if you make any progress, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

It was dawn when Batman shook Robin’s shoulder, awakening him. “I have the antitoxin perfected.”

“Terrific! When do we take it?”

“Just before we leave to face Poison Ivy. Before doing that, I’ll need to go over some test results. Meanwhile, I’d like you to get some of my new Bat-anti-itching formula to Police Headquarters for Batgirl.”

“Good thinking, Batman. Do you want me to take the Batmobile?”

“No, chum. The Batdrone plane will be quicker.”

“Gosh, Batman. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Well, I’ve had the thought working its way through my subconscious for some time now.”

“It’s brilliant, though. The Batdrone plane can’t possibly get hung up in morning, rush hour traffic.”

“Agreed. It has its advantages.”

As the Dynamic Duo spoke, Robin prepared the large, radio-controlled, miniature airplane they had first used to track a signal the Minstrel had broadcast to panicked members of the Gotham City Stock Exchange.

“I’ve set the course for Commissioner Gordon’s office and put the antitoxin for Batgirl in the cockpit, along with the information the police lab will need to mass produce it,” Robin reported.

“Good. We’re ready to launch at any time.”

“One question, Batman. How do you know Commissioner Gordon will have the window open for the Batdrone plane to fly through?”

“I thought I’d ask you to call the Commissioner on the Batphone and alert him we’re sending a dose of the antitoxin for Batgirl.”

“I will,” Robin said and picked up the Batphone.

In Commissioner Gordon’s office, Chief O’Hara pointed out the beeping, flashing Batphone. “Mother McKree! That she-devil didn’t do them in after all.”

“You’re right, Chief! Thank Heaven,” the relieved public official said, as he crossed the room, removed the cover, and answered. “Yes, Batman. What is it?”

“This is Robin, Commissioner. I’m calling to check in and tell you Batman has devised some chemical countermeasures to combat Poison Ivy’s itching chemical. I’ve sent, via Batdrone plane, a sample and the formula your forensics people can use to make more.”

“Batdrone plane?”

“It’s a sophisticated, radio controlled, miniature airplane. You’ll need to open a window to let it into your office.”

“Right. Just a moment.” He put his hand over the receiver. “Open a window, Chief O’Hara. We’re about the receive vital information via Batdrone plane.”

“Batdrone plane, Commissioner?”

“A highly sophisticated, radio controlled miniature airplane, Chief.”

“I see it now. Here it comes. Begorra! That plane is big for a toy.” Chief O’Hara said, throwing open the window and stepping aside. The Batdrone plane landed on the floor.

“We’ve received the Batdrone plane, Robin.”

“Good, Commissioner. You’ll find the antitoxin and instructions for making more in the cockpit.”

Moments later the lawmen were examining the instructions. “We’ve got them. I’ll put forensics on this at once.”

“Good. Just a moment.” Robin set the phone down and threw the Batdrone Retriever Switch, which made the large, toy plane turn around and fly back through the window.

“The Batdrone plane,” Chief O’Hara said, pointing. “It’s flying away.”

“Robin, the Batdrone plane is flying off.”

“Don’t be alarmed. I’ve set the retrieval sequence in motion.”

“I see. Oh, I should probably tell you Poison Ivy’s three henchwomen simultaneously robbed three stores of their Christmas trees and the stores’ patrons of their valuables. Oddly, we’ve had no report of Poison Ivy being seen in any of their vicinities.”

“When did these robberies take place?”

“While Batgirl was tracking down the antidote Poison Ivy offered for you and Batman.” Commissioner Gordon said. “You don’t suppose anything has happened to her? We haven’t heard from her since she left on that evil errand.”

“Batgirl was fine when she gave Batman and me the antidote. I’m sure she’s okay. Speaking of Batgirl, she’ll probably want to know about the robberies you told me about and that you have Batman's chemical agent to counteract Poison Ivy’s itching chemical ready for her.”

“Right you are, Robin. I’ll contact her at once.”

“Thank you, Commissioner Gordon. Goodbye.”

Batman was bent over the Batcomputer as Robin’s attention returned to him. “They got their special delivery, Batman.”

“Good. The Batdrone plane should be back any second.”

Just then, the Batdrone plane landed on its miniature runway and turned to take off again.

“You’re amazing, Batman. You predicted the time of the return of the Batdrone plane exactly!”

“Naturally. Through observation and mathematical application, anyone would have been able to do the same. Has Poison Ivy done anything else of which we should be aware?”

“Her henchwoman hit three department stores simultaneously,” Robin reported.

“They stole the Christmas trees?”

“Yes, among other things.”

“They were live Christmas trees?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It’s just as I thought,” Batman said. “Poison Ivy is a skilled biochemist who has used her scientific knowledge to facilitate her crimes. According to my analysis of her itching chemical, she has taken a sophisticated shortcut developed by commercial industry.”

“Could that shortcut be patented?”

“I’m betting it is, chum. The Batcomputer is referencing the patent.” As Batman spoke, the Batcomputer sounded a bell and ejected a card. Robin snatched it. A second card emerged a moment later.

“The Blossoms Flower Shop,” Robin read. “It went out of business a number of years ago.”

“They must have licensed this biological shortcut from Gardner Labs, a now-abandoned private research firm,” Batman said, setting the second card aside.

“Then that’s where we’ll find Poison Ivy!”

“Right. Let’s go!”

Barbara Gordon opened one eye and focused on the flashing light synchronized with the beeping that had awakened her. She slid from the bed and into her robe, picking up the personal digital assistant and making her way to her computer. Batgirl had received an e-mail. She read about the robberies and the itching-chemical countermeasure Batman had provided for her. She closed the e-mail program and checked on her computer search.

“Yes!” Barbara said. “The watermark indicates the card is from the Blossoms Flower Shop, which went out of business years ago. It’s time for Batgirl to check out that establishment, but first I’d better get the antitoxin Batman left with Daddy.”

She shut her system down and smiled. The sleep had helped her enormously. She cleared her throat and spun her wall to select a fresh costume.

She chose one of the heavy-duty outfits she had personally designed and cut to fit her succulent, shapely body. The four-way stretch garment she had created incorporated permanent moisture management properties which would wick perspiration and other moisture away from her body to keep her dry. Spandex, polyester, Lycra and Lurex combined and enhanced those properties to provide a cottony feel and a comfortable fit, while the thermal stitch construction Batgirl had employed would provide air pockets for added warmth. The costume she selected was the perfect choice for performing intense aerobic activities in mild weather, while being ideal for stop and go activities in cool to cold temperatures. Along with the bodysuit, she wore glove liners and a hood of the same material beneath her cowl. There might be a little hearing impairment, but Batgirl decided the chance for survival the costume offered was a worthwhile tradeoff.

Dressed thusly, she mounted her Batgirlcycle; descended to the street in her secret, freight elevator; and pulled into traffic.

Shortly thereafter, Batman parked the Batmobile in front of the single-story building that used to house Gardner Labs. “It’s rare to find a criminal hideout we won’t need Batropes to penetrate,” Robin remarked.

“Gardner Labs were in a subterranean facility, chum.”

“How will we get in?”

“I’ll use the Batkey.”

“Won’t they be expecting us to use the front door?”

“Joker and Riddler normally expect us to enter their lairs through windows. The straightforward approach might be a surprise to a warped criminal like Poison Ivy.”

Batman opened the door and led Robin inside, letting it quietly close behind them. They crept to a stairwell and began to descend. At the foot of the stairs, Batman opened the door a crack and peered through. Robin leaned forward and followed his mentor’s gaze.

Beyond the door they could see parallel lines of potted pine, spruce, and fir trees. As the Dynamic Duo watched, a redheaded woman moved to one of the trees and crouched over the pot into which the trunk was plunged. She extracted something from the soil, examined it, replaced it, and made note on a clipboard hanging on the pot. Then she straightened and moved to the next tree.

“It’s Poison Ivy, Batman,” Robin whispered.

“Yes,” Batman agreed softly.

“What is she doing?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

“Roger.” Together they burst into the room and approached the curvaceous criminal.

“Hold it, Poison Ivy!” Batman announced. “We’ve caught you.”

Poison Ivy turned around and smiled. “Most people wouldn’t want to catch poison ivy.” Valves burst open above Batman and Robin, releasing a shower of chemicals on them. Batman was shaking his head when the voluptuous villainess straightened. “What?! This isn’t possible! Why aren’t you two writhing in agony and scratching yourselves? That is my itching chemical in its purest, most concentrated form!”

“Batman developed an antitoxin for your fiendish chemical!” Robin answered.

“It is being mass-produced as we speak,” Batman said. “Even the general public will soon be safe from your underhanded attacks.”

“I see,” Poison Ivy said, letting her hands settle on her hips. “Your reputation for resourcefulness is more than just a myth.”

“Thank you, Poison Ivy. Now, if you’ll just come quietly–”

Poison Ivy threw her head back and burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding, Batman. Please don’t think I’m anywhere near ready to give up. Especially not when you’re exactly where I want you. Seize them!”

Suddenly, Batman and Robin each felt the arm closest to the other grasped from behind and yanked backward. Arms threaded through their bent elbows and wound upward along their forearms before hands clasped their shoulders in a grip of iron. Betsy’s white hair fell into the captives’ peripheral vision as she bent her legs to maintain her balance, leaning forward and using her surprisingly considerable strength to anchor the Dynamic Duo. Meanwhile, the brunette Veronica twisted Batman’s other arm behind his back while the blonde Nancy did the same to Robin.

The prisoners struggled in the gorgeous goons’ grip until Veronica and Nancy bent their wrists painfully, eliciting gasps and forcing the captives slowly to their knees.

“What are you going to do with us?” Batman asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough, Batman. Now, both of you hold still,” Poison Ivy commanded. Batman and Robin went on vainly struggling until the pressure Nancy and Veronica exerted on their painfully bent wrists became too great. The Dynamic Duo hung their heads, defeated. A nod from Poison Ivy relieved the torturous pressure on their wrists before the triumphant tree-lover stepped before Batman, regarding him with a wicked smile. “Much better. Good work, girls. Again, our guests are right where I want them and I’m about to answer the Caped Crusader’s question with a little preview. Robin, you are mine.”

Robin stared at the redheaded rogue as she took a sexy stride toward him and took his chin in her hands. His gaze held her in fearful fascination as she tilted his head back and bent her mouth to his.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing painful—at least not yet. If fact, you’ll enjoy a rare privilege.”

He focused on her full, ripe mouth as her lips moved forward to press gently, tentatively against his.

“Leave him alone, you sinister succubus!” Batman raged.

Poison Ivy’s lips brushed Robin’s a second time and she pulled back almost imperceptibly. Robin took a quick breath and craned his neck, pursuing her. She rewarded him with a delighted smile before merging her mouth with his and darting her tongue forward. They kissed slowly. As Poison Ivy held Robin in her power, his head turned to one side and they breathed together through their noses. The young Titan felt a warmth grow within him as his lips remained locked against hers. Slowly, the warmth began to mingle with a strange lightheadedness that built within him until he gasped for breath and slumped forward against Poison Ivy’s heaving breasts. Robin’s amorous attacker finally broke the kiss, let her hands fall from his face, and motioned for her minions to release him. She stepped back as Robin collapsed, hitting the floor with a smack and lay still, helpless at her feet.

“One down,” Poison Ivy said delightedly. “I love it when they’re limp and all used up afterwards.” She was still breathing heavily as she turned to Batman.

“You’ve incorporated your itching chemical into a binary compound,” Batman reasoned aloud. “The second part of the compound must be in your lipstick.”

“Very good, Batman,” the lusty lawbreaker complimented him. “I expect you’ll be better able to combat the aphrodisiac. It isn’t really necessary, though. You see, its effects are merely a bonus to enjoy before the parts of my compound commingle and function to leave you in the same condition as Robin.” As she spoke, she took a tiny mirror and lipstick applicator and worked to repair the damage the younger man had done to her appearance.

“You’re very confident of your chemicals.”

“They’ve never failed. Besides, I’m using a catalyst to induce the desired reaction. I have too much to do to be distracted.”

“What might your cruel catalyst be, Ms. Isley?”

She giggled as an impish smile illuminated her face. “I am so glad you asked.” She stepped toward him and filled his vision. “I really have been looking forward to showing you.” Poison Ivy took Batman’s face in her hands. Her voice had become soft and sultry and her breath seemed to sear Batman’s cheek.

“I’ll combat you with every fiber of my being!” Batman said.

“I’m certain you’ll try, Batman. My catalyst, as you’re about to discover, is heat--body heat.” Her lips brushed his tentatively. “You’re lucky Batman. I’m about to turn it up.” She laughed. “I can’t lose, Batman, and you can’t possibly win.”

Her lips were less than an inch from Batman’s as she spoke. She leaned forward and kissed him again. She was gentle and Batman felt himself respond instinctively. He wanted to resist her, to pull back, but he was now held firmly in place by all three of her girls and she had pressed her body as well as her mouth against him. Together, they opened their mouths. Batman told himself Poison Ivy was an attractive woman. Indeed, her heart was pounding against his chest and her scent was somehow intoxicating. He then argued that Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, was also an attractive woman with a love potion he had been able, with considerable difficulty, to resist–

. . . but Poison Ivy had taken steps to make herself irresistible. Batman could feel his will crumbling under her amorous assault. Somewhere there was also a weakness of body growing, asserting itself quietly upon his conflicted, over-stimulated mind.

Poison Ivy slid her tongue forward and moaned. The drug in her lipstick was working wonderfully on the Caped Crusader. She had been able to yield to Batman‘s kiss and knew he could not get enough. The desire in him had grown to a fiery hunger that would never be satisfied. Thus, his mouth remained locked against hers. Their hearts pounded and their chests heaved against one another. Batman felt the weariness growing within, overcome his craving for the woman who had duped him with her dreadful drugs. His iron-will granted him an exquisite encore after his body collapsed against hers. It seemed like a dream as he felt the hands restraining him letting go to allow his crafty conqueror to clasp him tightly and lower him to the floor. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth burning within him carry him away to a dreamy oblivion.

Poison Ivy pulled away from him and straightened. She triumphantly put a foot on his chest and settled her hands on her well-rounded hips.

“Wow!” Nancy exclaimed. “That was quite a show.”

“I would not have guessed they could be waylaid like that,” Betsy said.

“It seems there is more man to Batman than bat,” Veronica said with a laugh, “but, after all, we are drop-dead gorgeous, aren’t we?”

The voluptuous victor smiled down at her vanquished victims as the lingering pleasure the interlude with Batman had given her ebbed away. Her mind reviewed her succulent staff’s observations and she laughed delightedly before responding to Veronica’s remark. “Our visitors never had a chance. It’s time we demonstrated to the world that we are much more than pretty faces,” Poison Ivy said. “As for dropping dead, prepare the Defeated Duo for their impending demise while I finish up in here.” She returned to her examination of the Christmas trees’ soil as her gorgeous goons dragged the Dynamic Duo unceremoniously away.

“Holy Hot Lips!” Robin said as he recovered from the aftereffects of Poison Ivy’s evil embrace. He was lying on his back with his arms and legs splayed at the bottom of a tall glass tube. He tried to stand. He could not! He was somehow fastened to the glass floor with his cape rolled into a makeshift pillow. He turned his head to examine his surroundings and spotted Batman in exactly the same position. “Batman!”

“I’m here, old chum.”

“What do you make of these tubes we’re in?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll learn their purpose soon, but I have some dire suspicions.”

“Just the reaction I’d hoped for from my kiss. Tell me, was it good for you?” Poison Ivy asked, laughing huskily. “If I can’t persuade you to stay with just my touch, I’m certain you’ll find my organic glue quite compelling.”

“Vanity, Poison Ivy?” Batman asked. “The way you’ve been treating your male victims lately, I was persuaded you would not use your charms against your enemies.” She had applied more lipstick to her ripe, full mouth. Why was he focusing on her physical beauty? He knew what she was and that her appearance was an illusion, however attractive.

“You’re very sure of yourself, Batman. The fact is, I’m just making conversation. Besides, it wouldn’t do to let it be said the renowned Batman had figured out women before he perished.” She paused to laugh and went on, “I really have no use for either of you, but leading fools on just a little makes putting them in their places even more satisfying.”

“Where might you be planning to put us?”

“Six feet under ground in separate rectangular holes.”

“Is there any better proof than that that you’re a criminal and we are crime fighters?”

“That’s a very perceptive question, Robin,” Poison Ivy said. “You see, I have this problem with men.”

“I’m surprised,” Robin replied drily.

“Oh, I’m well aware of what I am capable, thank you very much. I’m also glad you enjoyed the attention, but, little boy, I really have no use for you or Batman. Neither my ego nor anything else really needs stroking. You may consider yourselves dismissed. It’s too bad in a way. We could do great things together, but I just can’t exorcize my memories of Jason Woodrue.” She shrugged.

“Who?” Batman asked.

“A manipulative man who tried to use my itching chemical against me He wasn’t a very good double-crosser, fortunately for me. Come to think of it, he wasn’t very good at anything.” She paused and closed her eyes, recalling the story. “I am, though. I excel at revenge. I served it to him cold and the taste was as sweet as sugared honey. You see, when Poison Ivy gets you, the itch lasts forever. He didn’t, though. In the end, he scratched himself to death, as you two would have without Batgirl’s intervention.”

‘That’s horrible!” Robin exclaimed.

“It was quite a show, really. Dear Jason’s death empowered me for the first time in my life.”

“He was just your first victim,” Batman said.

“Right. His assistant, a young Frenchman named Marc LeGrand, seemed to take pity on me after succeeding his academic mentor. He, though, treated me worse than Woodrue, until I persuaded him to test a more potent form of the itching chemical. He whined he was only being a man while he scratched himself into oblivion. I believed him and decided men are all the same. I declared open season on them and went to town, well, several towns. The deaths occurred below the police radar screen, although the robberies my lovely lackeys and I committed did not. Since I was perfecting the formula, there was no point in experimenting on anyone prominent. Now, however, things are very different.”

“I imagine you had been relying on your victims for money,” Batman guessed.

“To some extent. They were all also entertaining, for other, rather diverse, reasons.”

“I think you mean perverse! Anyway, I know you’re sick, Poison Ivy! ” Robin said. “You will pay for your crimes as well—all of them!”

“Enough! This is all ancient history, especially the guys. Speaking of which, let’s talk about you. You’re both about to be scratched--once and for all. I hope you’re comfortable in my enormous petri dishes.”

“We’ve been more comfortable.”

“Fine! You won’t be uncomfortable for much longer. Before I leave, I’ll release thousands of mold spores into your tubes. You, Batman, will encounter moss, while you, Robin, will have to deal with lichen. In the end, however, both of my fungi will deal with you.”

“Fungi naturally grow on rocks and tree bark,” Batman mused, interrupting the villainess’ laughter.

“Precisely. It’s a myth that moss only grows on the north side of trees. You’ll learn that lesson well, Batman. The spores will settle on your bodies, take root, multiply, and suck every scintilla of nourishment from both of you in the process. My fungi will utterly engulf you, leaving nothing but piles of moldering bones behind!”

Batman and Robin stared at one another, horrified, as the villainess’ evil entourage entered the room. The three newcomers laughed, enjoying the heroes’ predicament.

“Holy Biological Warfare! You’ll never get away with this!” Robin shouted.

“You’re quite wrong, Boy Blunder,” Ivy replied, regarding him coldly with hands on well-rounded hips. “Now, tell me. Who precisely do you imagine will stop me?”

“Batgirl, Batwoman, and Flamebird!” Robin answered. “They’re just the first group you’ll have to deal with if this monstrous murder somehow succeeds.”

“I guessed Batgirl was still alive when I realized it was you two who had broken into my lab. I suppose once I’ve dealt with you, I’ll have to scratch her off my enemies list – permanently.”

“Don’t do this, Poison Ivy,” Batman said. “You’re far too intelligent and beautiful to be put away for the rest of your life on murder charges.”

“Spare me! I saw Warden Crichton’s revolving-door justice system in action. Besides, once I’ve exterminated every bat in Gotham City, who will be able to stop me? Girls, expose them to the spores.”

Nancy spilled a green cloud into Batman’s tube while Veronica poured a pale yellowish cloud into Robin’s.

“Set climate controls,” Poison Ivy commanded.

“Climate controls set, boss,” Betsy said. “They’re going to have a hot time.”

“Good. Hit the lights.”

“Check,” Betsy said, bathing the doomed duo in a strange, purple glow.

“These conditions are ideal for the growth of my molds, Batman and Robin. I think you’ll find they’ve totally engulfed you within twenty-four hours. Goodbye.” Before turning away, Poison Ivy touched her fingertips to her lips and blew her prisoners a kiss. Then, her three malevolent minions followed her from the room. Batman and Robin exchanged horror-stricken glances as the fiendish foursome’s laughter echoed.

Batgirl’s visit to Police Headquarters enabled her to review the techniques Poison Ivy’s aides had used in robbing the stores. The discussion made clear the need to take the antitoxin Batman had provided.

“Batgirl, how do you plan to proceed?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“Based on my examination of the card Poison Ivy sent to me with the flowers, I suspect she may be connected to the abandoned Blossoms Flower Shop. So, I’ll check it out and see what I can find.”

“It could just be a dead end,” Chief O’Hara said.

“Maybe. I won’t have wasted much time if it is. Did Batman say anything about his and Robin’s plans?”

“We haven’t heard from him since he sent the antitoxin,” Chief O’Hara said.

“He generally prefers to wait until he has some meaningful progress to report before calling,” the Commissioner remarked.

“I’ll let you know what I find out at the flower shop,” Batgirl promised. Then she took her leave.

The Blossoms Flower Shop was dark when Batgirl parked outside. Gotham’s Gorgeous Guardian searched the outside of the shop with her tiny light, finding no sign of recent intrusion.

The doors and windows were locked, so Batgirl threw a Batrope to the roof and scaled the wall. The skylight afforded her a view of darkness inside. Batgirl frowned. The skylight was clean, but nothing else had been! Batgirl bent over the glass and tried the lock. It was unlocked.

The Dynamic Darling coughed, opened the skylight, and cautiously prepared to descend into the darkness. She climbed down her rope and felt her feet touch something. It was a counter top.

Suddenly, a dazzling light blazed above Batgirl, blinding her. She spun away from the light and raised an arm to shield her eyes. Off balance, she felt her legs cut from beneath her as the sound of something spilling asserted itself vaguely on her consciousness. Her outstretched hands became the means of breaking her fall instead of a defense against the blinding light. It was dark behind the counter as she hit the floor. She began to rise immediately and felt something roll beneath her feet that sent her crashing to the floor again. She tried to stand a second time and dropped to the floor again as her feet slid from beneath her.

“The seeds of discord, Batgirl,” a female voice said.

“Poison Ivy,” Batgirl murmured. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“You took your time. I’ve been waiting.”

“Now I’m here,” Batgirl said, reaching for the dangling rope upon which she had dropped into the room. The rope, however, was nowhere to be found and Batgirl fell to the floor again as the seeds slid from beneath her feet.

“Indeed. I think you are about to discover the heroic huntress has been transformed into precious prey,” Poison Ivy said, laughing and coiling a rope she carelessly tossed aside. An indirect light illuminated a shapely shadow looming above the downed darling, who realized her enemy was not alone. “All right, girls. You know what to do. Now, do it!” Poison Ivy’s voice dripped with excitement and pleasure as her malevolent minions slowly moved toward their voluptuous, helpless victim.

Batgirl thrashed violently evading her captors grip as they came for her. Again, she tried to reach her feet, but toppled as the seeds rolled beneath her. Batgirl coughed again.

Veronica and Betsy seized her arms and pulled her backwards. Batgirl squirmed vainly in their vicious grip and felt hands reaching to restrain her. She fired a foot back at her captors and was rewarded with a grunt. Her other foot flailed and was seized and twisted mercilessly. Batgirl gasped with pain.

“Did that hurt?” Nancy asked, her voice reflecting mock sympathy. A foot slammed into Batgirl’s side and was rewarded with a grunt and a gasp.

“Take her down,” Poison Ivy ordered and Batgirl felt her shoulders twisted and her chest lowered to the floor and held immobile.

Batgirl writhed helplessly as Poison Ivy’s henchwomen drew her legs together and bound them at the ankles and knees. Fingers searched her belt until the Batcuffs were extracted. Gotham City’s Succulent Sentinel felt her arms stretched above her head and her wrists manacled with her Batcuffs.

She lay at Poison Ivy’s mercy, and the withdrawal of her captors from the circle of light in which they left her punctuated the fearful feeling that had gnawed hungrily at her psyche since the first dazzling light had been shown upon her. She began to steel herself for the confrontation that would shortly come and felt deflated as she coughed. The cold her battle with Poison Ivy had induced was constantly demonstrating her humanity. She ceased to be the legendary, unstoppable vigilante, Batgirl, and became a sick woman in a tight-fitting purple outfit, too stubborn to stop fighting crime.

The Dark Angel of Gotham was amazed at how Poison Ivy’s next words dovetailed with her thoughts. “Decorative, isn’t she?” Poison Ivy asked rhetorically. “Put her on the counter and we’ll have a better look.”

Batgirl cleared her throat and glared at her captors. “All right, Poison Ivy,” she said. “I’m obviously your prisoner. What do you plan to do to me?”

The henchwomen lifted her bound body and dropped it on the counter with a thud. Batgirl gasped with pain.

“What does one normally do with decorations this time of year?”

“One displays Christmas decorations–”

“Yes?” Poison Ivy eagerly coaxed her comely captive. "How?"

“. . . hung on a tree!”

“Very good, Batgirl.” Poison Ivy complimented. “Nancy, lower the noose.”

“I’d expect a noose from a villain like Shame. Why would you be employing one?”

“Because you’re a traitor to your gender, Batgirl. Traitors are hanged. I gave you a chance to join us. You not only turned me down, but you then saved Batman and Robin from my chemical.”

“That won’t happen again,” Veronica said, with a wicked smile. “Not after we’ve finished with you.”

“You’ve trapped them as well,” Batgirl deduced aloud.

“This is true. They’ll probably last longer than you will.” The noose dropped into reach. “Veronica, kindly slip the loop over the traitor’s head.”

Ivy’s first lieutenant maneuvered the deadly loop over Batgirl’s head and settled it in place around her neck. “I hope you’re comfortable,” the brunette beauty teased.

“This rope is odd,” Batgirl remarked, ignoring the taunt and coughing once again.

“It’s made of supple grapevine. I want to be recognized for my achievements, you know. I notice you’re a little under the weather. I suppose that’s because I made you all wet the last two times we met,” Poison Ivy said with a wicked laugh and a sidelong smirk. “Try to think of your execution as a permanent cure for what ails you.” Poison Ivy turned from her victim to her attractive assistants. “Betsy, tighten the noose.”

The white-haired assailant drew the noose snugly against Batgirl’s throat. “With pleasure. You’re really going to swing, Batgirl.”

“Elevate her!”

“Up, up and away,” Nancy jeered. Batgirl felt her head lifted and took the vine, which formed the noose, in her shackled hands. She continued to rise slowly as her hands, clasping the vine, maintained the slack critical for keeping her neck from bearing her full weight. Slowly, the angle at which her body hung straightened and she was on her knees. Then she rose further and stood on her bound feet. Seconds later, she swung above the counter. When the gap between the counter top and the victim’s feet exceeded a foot, Poison Ivy called a halt to Batgirl’s ascent.

“If Shame, his western wenches, and his gun-toting goons were to hang you, Batgirl, they would simply drop you through a trapdoor on a gallows and break your neck. Such a fate would never do, though . . . not for a turncoat like you.” Batgirl’s gaze locked on the redheaded rogue as the villainess laughed. “I couldn’t possibly let someone like you die so quickly. Nancy, finish her!”

“You’re going down, Batgirl,” the blonde said. She brought over a large ladder, climbed it and poured something on the top of the grapevine. After a moment, she descended to her malevolent mistress’ side.

“Now, a chemical of my own invention is flowing along the vine toward you. Its purpose is to make the vine slick. It will take awhile to reach your hands, but it will. Shortly after it does, the slack in my noose will literally slip through your fingers and allow your decorative dead weight to do you in slowly . . . exquisitely slowly.” Poison Ivy paused to laugh and her minions joined in moments later. “Hang in there, Batgirl, while you can.”

Batgirl was speechless with horror as Poison Ivy led her attractive associates from the room. Once they were gone, she felt her body shake as she coughed again.

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