-Poison Ivy-

As far as cities go, Blüdhaven and Gotham weren't terribly different. Maybe a little less smog here, but certainly still not suitable for abundant plant life. Luckily for me, I was able to get a hotel on the nicer side of town. Gotham thugs knew not to mess with me, but I doubted I was very well known around here. I didn't want any unnecessary complications. The only things said to me by passerby's were compliments on my "sparkly flower". Simpletons.

When I arrived in my room, I did a little unpacking and set my Lilac up in the window, keeping it closed of course. Then I got to work, opening my computer to find the address of those rare plants. Two of them were close by at some big museum. I very much doubted that they were displaying them correctly. No one pays quite as much attention to detail as I do. Soon they'd be in my possession, but not before scouting out the location first. I was going to have to familiarize myself with the place before just barging in there. I dressed myself up to look the part of "Dr. Isley" and took a cab.

The place was crawling with little kids, something I hadn't expected. Apparently I'd shown up the same day as a local school had planned a field trip. Normally that would have annoyed me, but it actually made everything easier. The staff will be so busy keeping the kids under control, they won't notice the suspicious woman checking out the security system. Kids, gotta love em.

I tried to stay on track with the group without looking like I was following them. I thought about trying to pass off as a teacher or chaperone, but then I'd just have to slip away later. Their pace proved to be too slow for me, so I went ahead to find the new members of my collection. They were both the same species: Miniature Palm Trees. As the name suggests, they look just like regular palm trees, but are only about a foot high. I spotted them on display along with a bunch of seashells. Apparently they thought those shells were of equal value to the small trees. Yeah, ok.

As I was examining the case, looking for easy points of entry, I was approached by a woman with glasses. She looked to be about my age, but she lacked the style that made me appear so young. I thought she might work here, so I just smiled and tried not to make it obvious that I was just studying the locking mechanism. She eased my concerns when she spoke:

"Don't tell me, you're a botanist."

"Something like that."

"I knew it! Only true tree huggers like myself know the significance of these cute little trees." She extended her hand. "Joan Wurst."

I ignored the term tree hugger and shook her hand. "Pamela Isley."

"Haven't seen you around before. You here on business?"

"More or less." Hope she liked vague answers.

"Are you going to the big gala at the hall tonight?"

"I only arrived this afternoon. I wasn't aware of any gala."

"Oh, it's a huge deal. Everyone's going to be there. I'm going with a few coworkers. You should come. Otherwise they won't believe me when I say I spotted you scoping out the trees." She laughed obnoxiously, and I forced out something reminiscent of a chuckle. I had no interest in meeting her coworkers, but if everyone is going to be there, then I might be able to find tall, strong, and mysterious.

"Sounds good. I'll meet you there. Gotta run back to the hotel. It'll take me all night to get ready." I made an attempt at humor.

"Oh, I know how that goes!" I seriously doubt it. "See you tonight."

I took another cab back to the hotel and hurried up to my room. I recorded all the information about the museum on my computer, and then began rummaging through my suitcase for the perfect outfit. I had planned to get right to work tonight and snatch the trees, but this opportunity was too good to pass up. I settled on a red dress, very similar to the one I'd worn when I'd poisoned Harvey Dent. I suppose that made it a classic. I did my hair and makeup swiftly but with precision, and left for the gala.

Turns out that cackling woman at the museum was right; the place was packed. I even recognized a few of the children from the field trip, despite the fact that they were clearly stuffed into outfits they despised. One little girl even pointed at me and waved. I waved back, not wanting to be rude. The little girl had blonde hair pulled into pigtails, and it reminded me of that psychopath back home. I resisted the urge to check my phone, knowing I'd just be irritated at whatever nonsense she was probably spouting off at me.

I found Joan and who I assumed were her coworkers seated a table. I'll admit, she looked a little better now than earlier, but she hardly compared to a beauty such as mine. All her coworkers were similar to her, women in their thirties to forties who had tied down a man and let themselves go. I feigned politeness but didn't bother to remember their names. She introduced me to her husband who didn't even try to act like he wanted to be there, and then to her teenage son who didn't try to hide his wandering eyes.

Joan gave him a look and then pulled me away to the banquet, insisting I try this and that. I humored her, helping myself to some of the sweeter things on the table. I hadn't really had a meal since this morning, being so occupied with my various plans. I suppose I should enjoy eating when I want while I can. Who knows when my next spell at Arkham will be?

"Make sure you try the….uh oh." Her voice got more playful and annoying than usual.

"What?"

"There's a nice young gentleman looking your way. I'll just take these back to the table." She grabbed the plate full of goodies and slipped back to the group. I turned to see who she was talking about, and I felt my eyes go wide. It was him. It had to be. Same build, same hair, I could picture the mask on his face. He must have recognized me too; he wasn't just standing there gawking. Well, not only gawking anyway. He knew my secret identity, and I was about to find out his. I closed the distance between us, probably faster than what was appropriate, but I doubt anyone noticed.

"Hi."

"Good evening, miss."

"Miss? You forget my name?"

"You must be mistaking me for someone else." Does he think I'm an idiot? News flash! You gave yourself away, pretty boy.

I leaned in close to whisper: "I usually remember the people I've kissed."

Drawing back, I waited for him to make the next move. His expression was a mixture of fear and something else I can't quite name. Maybe passion. Or lust. But he didn't speak, just stared back for what felt like hours. I felt a smirk grow wider and wider on my face with every second that passed. This literally could not have gone any better.

For the second time today, a hand was extended to me. "Dick Grayson."

"Hmmm, where have I heard that before...Ah yes. Oh no. Oh no! Don't tell me that Bruce Wayne…"

"Ding ding ding." He was only making a joke because he was nervous. It was adorable.

"I've met Bruce Wayne multiple times and I've never once thought….wow." It made so much sense; I felt ashamed for not figuring it out myself sooner. It was clear that Nightwing (or Dick, as I've just learned) was very uncomfortable with me having this information, and I needed him totally comfortable for what I had in mind.

"Relax Dick, it'll be our little secret. We've already got a few of them anyway."

"Yeah, we sure do." He didn't seem totally convinced. I needed to take his mind off that. But how?

"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"

"That depends, are you going to poison me?"

"I'd have given you a drink if was going to poison you."

"There's none in that bright red lipstick of yours?"

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see." And with that, he took me by the arm and onto the dance floor. Men are so easy.

Gazing up at him while we danced was like watching a dramatic soap opera. His expression kept changing, like he couldn't decide if this was the right thing to be doing or not. He'd make witty remarks, then he'd go silent. But he never took his eyes off me the whole time, so I wasn't too concerned. This was something he wanted. This was something I wanted. I could have turned Gotham upside down with the information I was just handed, and the idea was barely a speck in my mind.

He began to look especially hesitant, so I raised an eyebrow, hoping to elicit a response. He seemed reluctant at first, but finally spoke softly.

"I want to kiss you."

"What's stopping you?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of being poisoned?"

"I'm afraid of letting myself fall in love with you."

"Why?"

"Everything I've ever been taught tells me not to trust you, but I didn't give it a second thought. We're on opposite sides, but I feel so close to you."

"Forget the past. Whatever happens here and now decides what happens in the future."

"I want you to be in my future."

"Then make it happen."

The words had barely left my lips when they were met with his once again. Though this was the first time officially meeting Dick Grayson, his lips tasted all too familiar. The spark was still there, and if anything it seemed to grow stronger with every movement. I had almost forgotten that we were in public, struggling to keep my hands to myself. It was him who pulled away first, giving me a look that clearly represented his desire to take me elsewhere. On our way out, I spotted Joan and crew, giving me a knowing look. I guess I owe her for this.

I won't go into detail about what happened in my hotel room that night, but I will say despite his boyish charms, Dick Grayson is definitely a man. As for our future? I imagine it's filled with awkward talks with Bruce, teaching him about plant care, and probably asking Joan about employment. My days as Poison Ivy the supervillain are in the past, and despite his requests, I will not become Nightwings side kick.

Pamela Isley-Grayson. Sound good to you? Because it sounds great to me.


Thank you for reading. That's the end :)

Was it good? great? garbage?

Either way, I hope you got at least some enjoyment out of reading this. I enjoyed writing it :D