That night the rain slashed at Gotham City with a harsh and unforgiving vengeance, making even the most resilient seek shelter. To some the relentless shards were a fortune sent from the Gods, to others, a curse. For on that special night Arkum Asylum had once again relinquished its hold on a pretty little flower by the name of Poison Ivy. A force of nature in her own right.
The heroes could not stand idly by while this deceptive dame caused chaos and destruction so they sent their best hope, Superman.
In hindsight recruiting Superman for the job may not have been one of their better ideas for although the Man of Steel certainly held strength and endurance beyond that of any mortal man, power also has its weaknesses.
Storming through what was supposedly Poison Ivy's hideout he was immediately set upon by the woman herself and trapped by the warmth of her tender lips.
Ivy's motivation remains unclear, those who know of the events that follow still like to theorise on why she did not keep such a beautiful prize or simply dispose of such an impediment. Drawn into a sweet goodbye kiss worthy of old Hollywood cinema Superman leaves, not in a lust crazed state but with dampened inhibition.
A week later Poison Ivy is caught and detained. Much to her delight and confusion a little reward has been placed carefully on the bedside table, a card with the bat insignia nestled against the roots.