Title: Batman: Respect
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Suspense
Author's Note: This is not a humor fic. It's one of my rare suspense fics (so rare, it's my second). I'm wanted to leave it as a surprise who this was (and what fandom I wrote in), but my anal need to label all my stories kind of ruined that. I will say it's not Batman, just that fandom. It's for a Flash Fan Fiction prompt, but if I tell you the prompt, that'll give it away to. So, nope, not gonna say it. Anyone who knows Batman will probably figure it out pretty quick anyway. Word count: 463
"What an innovative use of the land," the red-haired woman purred, wrapping her arm around her companion's waist. The two walked down the moonlit street, oblivious to anything but each other.
"My point exactly. That nature preserve is a waste of space," he replied in a whisper. He nuzzled her neck, one hand curled around her hip, the other loosening his silk tie. Her intoxicating perfume filled his nostrils. He tilted his head slightly, indicating the building ahead. "Is that your place?"
"That's it," she said, leaning into him. "Would you like to come inside? For, hmm, coffee?"
"Coffee sounds … divine."
They shared a soft chuckle. The woman disengaged herself long enough to unlock the door. With half-lidded eyes and slight smile, she beckoned him forward before disappearing inside. He hurried through into the dark interior. He caught a quick glimpse of her as she disappeared into a doorway at the other end of a hall.
"It's dark in here. Uh, can we turn some lights on?" He worked his way after her.
Her playful laughter answered him. "Aw, but I have a surprise for you. Don't you want your surprise?"
With thoughts full of the 'coffee' he'd been promised, he grinned and sped up. He turned the corner and paused. An enormous skylight comprised the ceiling, but the moon had vanished behind the clouds, rendering the room almost completely dark. He took a few hesitant steps forward, then stumbled as the floor gave way to dirt.
Dirt?
He reached down, confirming it. Feeling around, he felt large leaves and soft vines or roots. He couldn't tell. He stood, casting about in the darkness.
"Pam? Where are you?"
He stepped forward. His foot became tangled, tripping him. Crying out, he fell. Vegetation caught him. His palms tore on thorns. As he jerked his hands back, vines encircled his arms, thorns cutting into his flesh. He jerked his arms, but the vines squeezed tighter. He tried to kick, but more wrapped around his legs. Screaming, he struggled. More vines joined the others, squeezing him, holding him down.
"Did you think about them?" the woman's voice cut through his cries. "The innocent plants your company bulldozed to make that mall? 'A waste of space,' is what you called it." The moon came out, illuminating her as she stood over him. She reached over and petted a vine. "Do you like them? An specially enhanced form of pueraria lobata, mixed with dionaea muscipula. You'd know it as kudzu and the venus flytrap, respectively. It is rapid moving, very aggressive, and carnivorous. I don't expect you to understand. You don't respect the beauty of nature."
"Pam, please…"
"Pamela. Pamela Isley. But you can call me Poison Ivy."