Chapter 3
Dick opened his eyes, groaned, and threw up all over the apparition leaning over him. He felt a lot better after that, especially since the smell of vomit overpowered the stench of blossoms. The illusive reminder of violets receded, as did the no longer so attractive temptress. It was even worth the outraged scream and vicious slap. With a withering glare, Poison Ivy snapped her fingers and left as her vines tightened their hold about her victims. Robin and Batman were left alone. And a Batman and Robin left to their own devices seldom remain prisoners for long.
With some small effort, Batman accessed a knife hidden in his belt and soon freed himself from the mass of writhing vines. But freeing Robin was made more urgent as the vines retaliated by tightening on him, while the free vines whipped about like crazy.
"Bat..." Robin gasped, his voice cut off mid-word by a vine tightening around his neck.
"Don't fight them, Robin," Batman instructed, his voice deceptively calm, and he moved in, hacking at the obstructing serpentine coils. The wild vines slashed back, trying to wrap around his wrists and ankles and to otherwise trip him up. The fight became more desperate by the second as Robin slowly turned an alarming shade of blue. Finally the bat ducked in close enough to free his partner, dragging him away while he gasped for breath.
"I'm okay," Robin gasped while batman looked him over, "Let's go after Poison Ivy." Batman hesitated, his features grimmer than normal.
"Not tonight," he said at last, and without waiting for Robin's arguments he turned and cast a line up to the roof. Robin followed reluctantly and together they slipped out a window, disabling a few alarms and traps from the inside, and escaping the warehouse.
"We were already compromised once tonight," Batman said on the way back to the mansion, "I need to analyze this phero-fertilizer before we go after her again."
"You mean you were compromised," Robin answered, "I didn't go all silly."
"That needs to be analyzed too," Batman answered, "And you were unconscious. There were too many unknown factors."
"And you still think violet Myra isn't using some weird love potion?" Dick demanded.
"Dick," Batman admonished, his tone forbidding, and neither said anything more for the rest of the ride home.
Once back in the cave, Batman immediately set about running tests. Once he was finished checking Robin over, especially the deep bruising around his neck, and gathering samples, he had him de-suit and sent him to bed. Dick arrived in his bedroom just as annoyed as when he last left, and covered in more bruises. It was a good thing the weather was chilly because it looked like he would need to wear a turtle neck at school for a couple of days. That night he didn't dream about Myra or drowning in a violet sea but for once slept deeply with only brief, dark visions of fighting his way through a jungle.
The next week passed without much out of the ordinary. Dick went to school where no one noticed his sudden turtleneck fashion sense, Alfred fed him a lot of soup, and, though Bruce met with Myra almost every day, he didn't press for Dick to get to know Myra better and she didn't stay the night. The nights were spent alternately in the lab and keeping an eye on Poison Ivy, with an hour or two thrown in for general patrolling.
By the end of the week, Batman was finally convinced he had developed a usable antidote, should Poison Ivy unleash her poisonous perfume upon the city. But nothing in his research revealed why Dick wasn't effected like Bruce was.
"I told you," Dick explained yet again, when Batman questioned him, "I did feel, you know, but I didn't want it."
"So it's psychological," Batman answered, his expression troubled. Instantly, he dropped the bat persona and transformed into concerned guardian. "Is there anything you would like to talk about?" he asked, "Did something happen that you didn't like with a girl?"
"No!" Dick cried, blushing bright red, "I just..." Dick paused. He thought about the dreams where he was drowning in the violet stench. How he would wake up slick and sweaty in the morning, as though he had spent the night dreaming about beautiful women. About how sometimes he dreamed about pleasure, about sex, but it always turned into that horrid drowning nightmare. About how the thought of sex made him feel ill and helpless, like he was drowning all over again. He said none of this, trailing off into an uncomfortable silence.
"Dick..." Bruce began, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "Have you ever...are you still a virgin?" Dick didn't think it was possible for his face to get any redder.
"Yes!" he blurted out, "I've never...never gone beyond, you know. Making out."
"But you have felt interest?" Bruce continued, taking on a clinical tone.
"Yes," Dick said again, staring down at the floor.
"With women, I mean," Bruce continued, "You do like women?"
"Yes!" Dick answered, startled enough by the question to glance up before looking down again. Bruce considered him for a long moment.
"Have you always felt sick when you felt desire?" the questioning continued. Dick only shook his head, wishing the conversation was over.
"How long?" Bruce asked. When Dick continued to stare at the floor, Bruce's voice took on the tones of the bat, "How long have you felt ill?"
"Since you started to see Myra," Dick answered reluctantly, "Since...since she's been staying at the mansion. It's that perfume, the violets. You know how I hate it!" Finally he met Bruce's eyes, defiant and confused and hurting. Bruce looked startled, his stare deep and penetrating.
"There's nothing in the perfume," he said at last, "I've analyzed it." Dick nodded, resigned. Bruce continued to consider him, his thoughts running deep behind his eyes.
"We will both wear our masks, when we confront her again," he said at last, all Batman. The Myra problem would be dealt with once the city was safe once more. Dick nodded and went to don his suit. Soon, Batman and Robin were riding out once more.