Slade.
"I figured you would be thrilled to see me. It has been too long, wouldn't you agree?"
I turn around to find that he is only a few paces away from me. Slade of all people. Any other night I would have been thrilled to have him approach me. Any other night but tonight.
"Actually I was just thinking that it hasn't been long enough," I admit witfully. Stepping off of the ledge and backing up sideways, to distance both Slade and me along with myself and the ledge. "Maybe we could do this some other time?" I try, smirking. Despite the situation, I had already fallen back into my usual banter with the man.
"I don't see why now isn't as good a time as any…" He leers, as if he can just tell something is bothering me. Something major. Luckily for me, the man is covered in armor as usual, so I don't have to worry about skin to skin contact if this is headed where my instincts are telling me it is.
"Trust me Slade, this just isn't a good time." My tone is flirty, which happens naturally around him, whether it's out of defense or if it's genuine I couldn't tell you. Maybe a little bit of both. I reach up to tighten my ponytail before holding my arm out. "I'm poisoned, see?" I pout.
"Yes of course I see, the swelling is bad…" Slade steps closer to me and I hold my ground, letting him get within arms reach. It's not like I have a lot of room to back up anyway. I consider trying to grapple away, but I know that he would be too fast for me, and catch me before I could escape his grasp.
"But I'm not too worried Robin," he purrs, reaching out to touch my arm with his stone-cold glove. I flinch away, my breath hitching. "After all, Batman said that the toxin wasn't lethal."
I spring into action, flipping out of his reach. I crouch on the ledge, bird-a-rangs ready to fire. Frustration surges through me, dosing out any sort of arousal or intrigue that was there before.
"You heard that?!" I squeak out angrily. Slade then pulls a transmitter from his belt, waving it in front of me, taunting me. I groan and fight the urge to attack him.
It dawns on me then, that if he has heard the whole conversation, then he knows what the plant does, and what effects certain contact will have on me. I find myself blushing furiously at the thought.
Just as those thoughts grace my cheeks with their presence, Slade slowly peels off his gloves. His eye never leaves my own, and it glitters with mischief as his metal gloves fall to the concrete with a solid thunk.
I stare in horror, my pulse quickening. He lunges to attack me, grunting. I dodge it, jumping up and flipping over him, out of reach of his bare hands. I use my grapple and fling myself upward, perching on the top of a billboard on the edge of the building. My heart is pounding in my chest, making my whole body rattle as I glare down at him.
"Come down from there pretty bird." He teases me, his voice like smooth velvet.
A shiver rattles through me.
"What do you want with me, Slade?!" I ask incredulously. "What can you possibly gain from this?!"
"Your apprenticeship of course. With a few...benefits."
My heart stops. Slade had practically whispered the last word, but that didn't make it any less threatening. His voice was dripping with conceit, as if he had already won. I can't help but shiver as graphic images of intimacy with Slade floods my mind. My mouth goes dry, my face flushed with anxiety. I find the strength to suppress some of it, grunting angrily as I attack him with my bo-staff. Close combat, stupid decision in a time like this. Slade blocks it of course, and the sparring begins.
I am more careful than ever, dodging quickly, light on my feet. Absolutely no room for error here. He comes very close to grabbing my arm, but I kick his hand away in the nick of time.
After a few minutes of this it becomes very evident to me that I need an escape plan, because I can only go on for so long. I have to hit him hard enough that it will make him stumble backwards so I can grapple out of here. After a couple more rounds I manage to gain some momentum from the billboard, and kick his chest hard with both of my feet. This would have made any normal human being fly across the rooftop, but it only made Slade stumble back a bit. I take my chance while I have it and sprint toward the ledge, readying my grappling hook.
I almost make it. Both of my feet had left the ground, but Slade catches my cape, pulling me down into the concrete. I hit my head on the way down, making my line of vision shake. He has me pinned down to the concrete in a flat second. I squirm and try to kick, but it does no good. He is straddling me, pinning my arms down firmly by pressing my gloved wrists into the concrete with one hand.
A defeated whimper escapes my lips, making his gray eye glimmer.
"Slade…" I beg faintly, as his fingers ghost over my skin, not yet touching, hovering just above. "Please don't do this." I breathe quickly, my chest rising and falling. My body trembling.
Slade only chuckles at my plea, making me shake more vigorously. His hand then begins to slowly close in on my face, I turn away from the touch, closing my eyes, waiting for the dreaded contact.
"I want to see the look on your face when I touch you."
He thumbs my mask and quickly rips it off before I have time to protest. I squeak out. I keep my eyes shut for a bit as he beckons gently for me to open them. I naturally refuse, until he presses his weight onto my stomach with his knee. I groan and open them, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"My, my. If it isn't Rachel Grayson. I assume that makes Batman Bruce Way-"
"Don't you ever tell a soul!" I growl, cutting him off.
"My dear, I don't believe you are in the position to make demands," he says dryly,
I scoff and suppress a defeated sigh.
"Still, I admire your fire," he says, as his hand ghosts over my face. Again, not touching.
"Thanks," comes the sarcasm from me, but I blush at the compliment all the same. "Can we just get this over with? Or are you just going to continue to ogle over me?"
"Eager are we?" he leers.
I blush more, furrowing my brow. I try to come up with a smart remark but fall short as his bare hand gently comes in contact with my face. He brushes my cheek, almost intimately. My back immediately arches at the contact, as my skins suddenly feels like it is on fire. The burning is intense and I move my face, pushing my cheek into his hand, as it is all that quenches the flame.
He begins to pull his hand away, and I groan in pain as the burning flares up. I squeak out a plea and his hand returns, along with a chuckle.
"I think I could get used to this."
My body is screaming, my mind too fuzzy to come up with a coherent thought. I let him chuckle, let him taunt me, because I have no other choice.
I'm completely at his mercy now.