Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

Batman: Downfall	By : Driftwood Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 19223 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I did create nor own the rights to the Batman characters, places or franchise and I make no money on the fiction.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter two
Beneath Wayne Manor, Tuesday 04:41 am
The forty minutes Alfred had to wait stretched out before him. He tried to stay pre-occupied but everything that required doing brought his attention back to the fact that Bruce was in trouble. The steel table was clean and sterile as were the surgeon tools on a tray next to it. A bullet was lodged, a lucky shot that had managed to find a chink in the armour, the other great concerns were the arm and the real possibility that he had inhaled toxic fumes that even now could be eating away at his lungs and air passages.
The roar of an engine brought Alfred out of his malaise and he hurried over to the fierce, hulking black form of the Batmobile. The driver door lifted up and a broken and beaten form stumbled out. Bruce opened his mouth to speak then faltered and reached out for Alfred. Alfred half walked half dragged the cloaked figure to the table helping him up the best he could.
Alfred's biggest concern was the slow bleeding wound in Bruce's side. The fabric here was dense but manageable a lucky shot had missed the armour plating and tore into the weaker fabric side. With a sharp knife Alfred cut and worked the fabric open revealing the wound beneath. The skin was mottled and bruised and a sizeable hole oozed blood, "This may hurt," he uttered as he teased the wound open, Bruce gasped loudly his one good arm hammering the cold steel surface once.
Bruce lifted his heavy head from the gurney "How could she Alfred?" he managed to ask before blacking out.
Gotham City, 8:00 am
By the time the sun was rising above the towers of Gotham the fire at the Chemical plant was under control, its crumpled form was still being dowsed with water from surrounding fire trucks, teams in hazmat suits helping those they could while others began to search the rubble that was deemed safe, or atleast appeared safe. Black corpse bags came out on Gurneys from one partially destroyed entrance they would make the haunting image that would greet the public of Gotham everywhere when they woke up and turned their Televisions on.
Poison Ivy was asleep, a troubled sleep but one that was made easier being in the arms of Harley Quinn. Quinn on the other hand lay watching the naked woman pressed against her, her naked green body covered in terrible bruises and cuts, Quinn had seen the news and even she had been shocked by the devastation, but true to form also turned on by such wanton carnage. Across from the bed that they shared beneath crumpled sheets sat a low oak table on which now sat a single vial of clear liquid, the vial glinted with the creeping sun that cut through the chemical smog that hung heavy in the air.
Bruce Wayne had woken up on the operating table in agony, pain killers hardly making an impact on the dull ache of a dislocated arm and the deeper ache of a gunshot wound. Alfred had set up a Morphine drip which had been strongly declined. Bruce now sat tired and groggy in front of the bat computer, his weary eyes flicking from one screen to another gathering the stories of the day while listening to news reports playing on another channel. Bruce froze one image of the chemical plant, a few floors were still standing or just about, girders rose in the air like whale ribs, smoke rising from them still. "How could she Alfred?" Bruce asked again.
Alfred wished he had an answer for him but he closed his mouth without uttering a word. He walked over to the screens and placed a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal close by. "May I suggest eating something Master Bruce?"
Bruce nodded and went to reach for the spoon, wincing has his right arm jerked in the sling that had it strapped firmly to his chest, he cursed under his breath then reached out with his left hand, "This is going to take some getting used to." He muttered before taking a mouthful of the crunchy muesli. His eyes never left the screen as he chewed thoughtfully. "This is beyond anything Ivy has tried in the past," he shook his head absently, "this is real terrorism Alfred, not some plot to wipe out a couple of naughty executives at the top of the food chain."
"Perhaps she is tired of playing that game," Alfred interjected.
"That is what concerns me, that and the fact she was waiting for me." Through it all Bruce kept coming back to that. Ivy had all the time in the world to plant the detonators and stroll straight out of that plant. She had spouted some rubbish about her being the one to kill him but he saw it in her eyes that it was not the whole truth. Why waste all that time just to talk to him, almost twenty minutes worth of waiting... Bruce cleared all the screens, and quickly hacked into the Gotham municipal buildings databanks.
"An idea sir?" Alfred asked stepping closer as the main screen filled with the blue prints of the Chemical plant. Another screen opened with the G.C.P.D server screen, which began to flash red as the computer cycled through its password and encryption software.
"Misdirection Alfred, what if I was not the main target?" Bruce bit his lower lip as he typed clumsily with his left hand, "What if she were after someone else," Bruce was expressing his thoughts out loud and Alfred remained respectfully quiet, for the time being atleast. The G.C.P.D screen blanked then opened on a general screen, successfully hacked. Bruce turned his attention to it and quickly accessed the duty roster. "What if someone on the Swat team was the target?"
Alfred winced a little, he put it down to lack of sleep and overwhelming pain acting together to create such fuzzy logic, "Sir, without sounding rude, but Ivy has a far more direct and personal route to dealing out her revenge." Seducing was an art form with Poison Ivy one she used to deadly ends.
Bruce nodded slowly, Alfred did not have to see his face to know that Bruce was blushing a little with embarrassment. "Did you know they had a research lab in the plant?" Bruce asked suddenly, using the wheel on the mouse to zoom in on the top floor of the chemical plant, another screen popped open and Alfred was surprised to see the Axis Chemical company intranet page. The password was hacked within three seconds and a headache inducing menu page came up with more menu pages linking off of it at the touch of one header or another. "This could take some time."
Alfred looked over at the small television that sat near the work bench where Bruce repaired and readied his arsenal of gadgets and weapons. The bouffant haired woman gave way to the grizzly and tired face of Jim Gordon. A small image appeared in the top right corner, one that made Alfred's blood turn cold, "sir," he said in a cracked voice Bruce paid no attention he was too busy breaking down menus searching for clues. "Sir," the voice was louder and more stern making Bruce turn in his chair, "I believe you may want to see this," Bruce looked over at the tiny television and then quickly spun back opening the feed on the main screen.
Jim Gordon's face filled the screen, the top right corner showed a half decent sketch of Batman that was now half concealed behind a large red circle with a line through it, "...I repeat, Gotham Police department has issued a warrant for the capture and arrest with all due force of the criminal known as The Batman." The milling press exploded into a barrage of shouted questions, Gordon raised his hands trying to quieten the rabble.
"From vigilante to criminal in the blink of an eye," Alfred was astonished by such a turn of events and he worried even more about Bruce, it was bad enough having the criminals of Gotham shooting at him, he now had to worry about the police doing it too.
Bruce had begun to gnaw at the side of his index finger an old habit from his younger years and one that told Alfred that young master Bruce was indeed worried. "It was always a fine line Alfred, sooner or later Gordon had to decide which side I fell on." Bruce knew this was not all of Gordon's doing he was being pushed and very hard to make this statement.
"You knew sir?" Alfred could hear it in the tone of his voice and it was a shock to him.
Bruce nodded, "Last night, he let me go but warned me that next time I would be arrested on sight," he could count on a handful of officers to ignore this game changer, sadly they were outnumbered by the gung-ho, the sloppy, the dangerous and the paid off elements of the police force.

Gotham P.D. headquarters 9:03am
"Is this connected to last night's attack on the Chemical plant?" A female journalist screamed high above the mixed cacophony of other voices, surprising all around her.
Gordon shook his head, "It is not, last night's fire is being investigated as we speak and any and all perpetrators will be caught and put to trial." His headache was back with a vengeance, if he did not have a stroke by midday he would count himself lucky. "With regards that, the Department has offered its sincere condolences to the families of the six officers who died while inside the building, their fellow officers mourn their loss but will not give up on bringing their killers to justice."
"Was Batman there Commissioner, we have reports that he helped one of your officers and now you are asking for his head." This was from another reporter, a tall thin man with terrible plastic surgery around the eyes in a failed attempt to delay the aging process.
"I cannot comment or give details on an ongoing investigation Todd you know that. Detective Harvey Bullock remains in intensive care as we speak and we will give you more information on him when we get it." More shouted questions, more and more he heard the name Batman rise up out of the cacophony.
Finally one reporter asked a question he was willing to answer, "Do you have any leads on who might have started the fire?"
"At this time we are seeking a female suspect by the name Pamela Isley, also known as Poison Ivy in connection with the Chemical plant," the questions came again, he looked at his watch, he had given them five minutes and that was damn well four minutes and fifty five seconds too long, "Thank you," he said absently and walked away from the podium climbing the stone steps and through the glass frontage of the department ignoring the now ear splitting shouts of the irate news reporters behind him.
Officers dashed about him, many offering salutes or just a simple nod in his direction. His call for the capture of Batman would rip the department in half, but if he had failed to give the warrant Jim Gordon would be heading upstairs to clear out his office and get his belongings. At least now he still had some control, he could help if possible. The vibrating in his pocket brought him out of his thoughts and he fumbled for his phone. Gordon gave a genuine smile as he saw the name flash up on the screen, it took him a few more seconds to finally unlock the phone and speak to the person on the other line, "Don't hang up I'm here Barb'."
Barbara Gordon gave a good natured laugh down the line, "Dad you need to step into the modern age, I got you that phone so you could atleast dip a toe into the wonderful age of technology. Read the manual and you'll be able to answer it straight away."
Gordon continued up the stairs, avoiding the lifts as he always did in an attempt to get a little physical exercise in his daily routine, "You know I dislike this stuff, heck who knows what it's doing to my brain right now."
"Well from what I have just heard on the radio I think something has given you brain damage,"
Gordon could make out background noise now, the whine of a car engine then the deep rumble of a truck, "Where are you?" he asked pausing on the steps.
"I'm heading home dad, remember I said I would be coming up this weekend." Gordon looked at his watch and the date in the smaller inlaid dial, "You forgot, that's okay don't worry it's not like my graduation with full honours or anything...oh wait you missed that too." Gordon closed his eyes, that was two weeks ago and Barbara was heading home as he had begged her to visit so he could atleast try and make it up.
"I didn't forget, I just...ah hell okay I forgot! This place is starting to drown me Barbara but you have me all to yourself tonight I promise."
The line was silent for five seconds then ten, Gordon went to call her name before he finally heard a resigned big sigh followed by "Okay, okay you are lucky I am so forgiving, but you are taking me somewhere posh and expensive."
Gordon's shoulders slumped with relief, "You got it, I love you." The last part stumbled out of his mouth but Barbara had already hung up by then. Gordon put his phone away after examining it up close making sure that indeed the call had ended and that he was not required to press or say anything to the phone for it to go back to sleep.

Wayne Manor, 4:00pm
Bruce stirred from an unsettled sleep, noticing that the sun had risen and passed its high mark hours earlier. Alfred had forced him from the cave and into his bedroom half carrying him along the way. Bruce had fought sleep telling Alfred he had to search the data banks and find out what Ivy was really after, his words had become slurred and he went to protest at the drugs that Alfred had slipped him but his head had fallen back heavy on the pillow and there he had remained for the next six hours.
Bruce sat up then lowered himself back down groaning loudly as dynamite exploded behind his eyes, he scrunched them tightly shut and tried to reach for the intercom with his right arm, before he realized it had been tightly bandaged to his chest. With effort he leaned over and smashed the intercom on with a heavy left hand. "Alfred?" he said his voice hoarse with exhaustion and dehydration.
A few minutes passed before Alfred walked into the room, he knocked politely on the door before entering the room. He carried a large carafe of ice water and a newspaper under one arm. A smile pressed thinly across his weathered face as he saw Bruce open one eye then the other licking his lips at the sight of the water.
"What did you give me?" Bruce asked forcing himself up into a sitting position, using his left arm to hold his weight up. His tongue thick and sluggish in his mouth tasted of old medicine.
"A small sedative, though I doubt you really needed it," Alfred responded as he tipped the carafe pouring a small glass of water. "I wanted to be sure you had some sleep though." He lifted the glass to Bruce's lips letting him take small sips. When Bruce finally nodded, he lowered the glass and with a small amount of trepidation Alfred handed him the newspaper.
The Gotham Times made it plain and simple in big bold type 'WANTED: BATMAN DEAD OR ALIVE' it was a bitter pill to have to keep swallowing. The warning last night had not prepared him for the press conference this morning and now seeing it in print...somehow it drove the message home. Bruce threw the newspaper to one side in disgust, he had grown to respect Jim Gordon now that respect was dwindling he had caved in and marked Batman and in turn Bruce Wayne to death. "Any luck finding what Ivy was really up to?" Bruce asked avoiding the topic of the warrant.
Alfred raised his eyebrows but did not start the line of questioning that had pre-occupied him for most of the day, he swallowed hard then replied, "I am afraid not sir, Axis seem to run things on a lot of levels. The Chemical plant certainly had two faces. The main front we all know and love dearly and then there is or was the Research and development department, shady would be an understatement."
Bruce turned on the bed sitting on the edge of it, feeling the stitches in his side pulling taunt, his recently fixed dislocated shoulder throbbing madly. "We need someone on the inside of Axis or atleast someway of me gaining access to the main frame directly." Bruce pushed himself off the bed standing on his feet for a moment before Alfred caught him and lowered him back down to sitting on the bed. "Find out what upcoming research they need funding for, Batman may be out of action for a while but Bruce Wayne can still function."
"While we are on the subject of Bruce Wayne functioning, you have a dinner date tonight as well as a board meeting with Wayne enterprises tomorrow morning. No doubt you have a story already for your injuries." Alfred nodded to the visible trussed up arm.
"Cancel the date and the meetings can be pushed further back, we have more pressing engagements." Bruce stood up and Alfred pushed him a little too easily back down.
"Batman has to take time off sir, now would be a good time. If you want access into Axis Bruce Wayne needs to be seen about town."
Bruce nodded slowly in agreement, "I cannot even remember who the dinner is with and where?" Bruce said coyly.
"Well lucky for you sir, I do!"

Fox Gardens, Restaurant 8:00pm
For Jim Gordon it did not get any posher than Fox Gardens. The waiting list for the average man on the street was a couple of months but for the police commissioner it only took one phone call and a space had been made for him and his guest no doubt had he been one of the crime family bosses the whole restaurant would have been cleared out for him. Barbara had reached the house late that afternoon and to Jim's relief had given him a huge hug as she got out of her car. He helped her with her bags "I thought this was a flying visit?" he had asked as he opened the boot on the small sedan. She had replied with a crafty smile and told him all would be explained at dinner. She was staying for longer perhaps a month, perhaps longer and this filled Jim with happiness apart from a small ball of ice that had formed in his stomach.
Barbara now sat opposite him, humming a little tune as she looked through the menu. She had cleaned up from her long car journey. Gone were the tattered jeans and dirty t-shirt, now she wore a plain black dress, the neck line not too plunging and the hem within Jim Gordon's acceptable limits. Her red hair that she had inherited from her Mother cascaded down over her shoulders. Jim closed his menu, already knowing that he would be having the steak before he even started to look at the menu. "Come on, you going to tell me why you had so many bags?"
Barbara looked up from her menu then gave a smile that reminded Jim of his dead wife. She lowered the menu biting her lower lip in apprehension. "I've taken a job here in the city." Jim's bushy eyebrows rose up "Its head of the public library, it's not much but a start that will open doors for me." She took a sip of water, expecting her dad to fill the silence between them, hoping that he would. Instead he remained silent forcing her to speak again, even with his own flesh and blood Jim Gordon could be the unshakable detective. "I can get onto a lot of the City's panels; make changes from inside, who knows I could end up on the governing council in a few years and then...who knows?"
"I don't understand you want to be a bureaucrat? My god Barbara you are young! Why would you want to do that?" Jim asked flabbergasted.
Barbara sighed, "Dad it's not like that. This is a stepping stone to bigger things, better things I can make a difference here." Her speech was impassioned but she wasn't telling her dad the whole story, though it was there simmering on the surface if he wanted to dig she would unravel. Barbara knew how she could make a difference in Gotham and the city could do with it right about now. A police car sped past followed by another their lights flashing and sirens roaring, Barbara took the opportunity to change the subject. "Busy night out there, isn't that the forth lot of cars to have sped by?"
Jim nodded he had expected this to happen tonight and for many nights to come. He had asked his station chiefs to start changing their Rota’s for the foreseeable future. Hot headed beat cops would be partnered with more seasoned officers in an attempt to minimize the risk. Jim was not deaf to the talk going around G.C.P.D talk of illicit bets and odds on who would kill the Batman, there was no talk of taking him alive. Someone was going to wind up dead by daybreak though he knew it would not be Batman. "Stop trying to change the subject." He said gruffly then gave a soft laugh, "It's your life Barb' and you can crash at the house until you find somewhere in the city to live."

"Ah, Mr Wayne right this way," the concierge called out loudly a smile plastered below his thin black moustache. The concierge walked with his shoulders pushed back, his smile growing smugger as he lead the expensive suited man to a table in a private corner. Heads turned this way and that, mostly women though Jim noted one or two male movers and shakers taking note at the added attention the new guest was getting. With a theatrical flourish the concierge pulled out a chair and seated Bruce Wayne.
"Now that's someone you should be investigating dad." Barbara said her eyes narrowing as she looked over at the billionaire playboy. "No one is that good looking and that rich without being dirty, wouldn't surprise me if he has ties with the Maroni's."
Jim laughed loudly he held a balled fist to his mouth and coughed trying to mask the sudden burst of merriment. "Bruce Wayne is not tied to any mob boss, not Maroni, not Falcone, not Dimitrov." Barbara arched one eyebrow, "Of course I looked in to him." They both laughed together then, like father like daughter it seemed.
First course came and went and their main course went down just as easily. Once the plates were cleared off the table Barbara asked, "I need to come over to your headquarters tomorrow, a small matter of the public records system and the Police system not running in synch maybe we can meet up for lunch."
"You don't waste any time in your new job do you! I'll let the desk Sergeant know you will be about, he'll get you through with no hassle. But no can do with Lunch, I have a meeting with the mayor and his cronies." Jim replied, Barbara had his drive and she was jumping into her new job head first. He noticed a lopsided smile on Barbara's face that made him turn and look over at Bruce Wayne who was still sitting on his own, now tapping on the table with the one hand that was not trussed up on his chest. "Stood up? First time for everything I guess."
By the time dessert came, Bruce had flung in the towel or in this case an expensive white napkin he stood up and meekly made his way down the restaurant to the front door. Barbara made eye contact for less than a second but it was enough to stop the man in his tracks a smile that Barbara thought would not look out of place on a shark, crossed the chiseled chin and well-bred cheeks. Bruce slowed and Barbara groaned inwardly. "Commissioner," Bruce said pulling up at the table, he held out his left hand which Jim grabbed after fiddling with his dessert spoon. "This is not your usual dining hole?"
"Very true Bruce, but I have a special guest staying with me so I thought it best to show her somewhere a little classier than Luigi's Pizza." Jim replied.
Bruce turned to the redhead he had caught a glimpse of the moment he had entered the restaurant. The dawning realization and the following embarrassment of being stood up was softened as he sat at the table on his own he found himself glancing her way, even from that distance he got a sense of her beauty and an underlying resentment in the way he caught her glances every now and then. He knew who she was but he played along anyway, "Bruce Wayne and you are..." He held out his left hand.
Barbara gripped the offered hand firmly she was no giddy school girl or vapid news reporter, "Barbara, Barbara Gordon." She was surprised to find a very firm hand shake there was power behind the grip enough to snap her fingers if he applied enough pressure perhaps. "What happened to your arm?" she asked.
Bruce looked down at his right arm as if he had forgotten about the injury, "This? I got flung from my horse playing polo." The answer was stock Bruce Wayne and he loathed saying it.
"I didn't realize the Koreans were big on Polo?" The odd question brought a quizzical look to Bruce's face, his head cocking to one side but Barbara could also see the unease in his eyes "How are Wayne enterprises doing after the North Korea fiasco?" she wanted to laugh as she saw her question hit home.
Jim's mouth dropped open and he quickly spoke, "Barb' just got her doctorate and a new job right here in the City as head of the public library, this meal is sort of a combined celebration." He could feel the tension between his daughter and Bruce.
Bruce gave an easy smile, trying not to draw attention to the fact that Barbara Gordon still held his hand. "That's great news on both accounts. The public library needs young blood in there if it's to survive the digital age."
Barbara nodded and continued on her original line of questioning, "I only ask because I couldn't find much in the papers, North Korea acquiring a shipment of Wayne Tech weapons I thought would have made the front pages the world over last month." She took some delight in the way Bruce's mouth lost its smile. The story had been buried and buried deep, the look on Bruce's face told her he knew it had been too.
"An error our far eastern field office is quickly rectifying I assure you. It seems our background checks were not as thorough as they should have been and the shipment went through a grey company before anything could have been done." The words rolled off Bruce's tongue with ease, he had said the same thing to the ministers in South Korea as well as China.
If he were lying he was very good at it, Barbara could detect no tell in his face, heck even his pulse had remained steady. "Well that's good to hear," she finally relinquished her grip, "There are plenty of bad men in this city Mister Wayne, I would hate to think you were one of them too."
"Christ Barbara!" Jim exclaimed loudly, "Bruce I'm sorry..."
Bruce held up his hand, that easy smile returning but his eyes still looked troubled "That's okay I have been called much worse, but I assure you Miss Gordon I am one of the good guys." He wished them both a good evening and headed off at what he hoped was a steady pace. Barbara Gordon was beauty with a beast of a mind, she we chew through the ranks of Gotham's public sector easily and make enemies along the way.
"What the hell was that Barb'?" Jim demanded in a hushed tone, his dessert now long forgotten.
"There is something not right about him and his company. Who accidently sells arms to North Korea? What's next for Wayne Enterprises, Nuclear warheads to Cuba?"
"Barbara if you want to get on in this City and rise to the top you need people like Bruce Wayne in your corner, trust him, hell trust me when I say he's one of the good guys. This town has not got many of them left."
"It could do with one more," Barbara muttered under her breath as she lifted her ice cream laden silver spoon.
Gotham Police headquarters, Wednesday 11:05am
She had been left in the bowels of Gotham Police Headquarters for over an hour now and not one person had come to check on her. The moment the desk sergeant had gotten her name he had hastily written her visitor pass which she clipped it to her business suit expecting at every turn to be asked to show some ID on her whistle stop tour through the bull pen and through the lower offices. But who she was had buzzed around the headquarters quickly, mostly she suspected because of her dad giving them fair warning that she would be there. It just made her job here even easier. Their five minute walk consisted of the Sergeant telling her what an amazing man her father was, what an amazing job he was doing etc. etc.
He had shown her direct to the lower floors of the police department and into the server room and that was the last living soul she had seen for over an hour. Finding the right algorithm to get both this system and the Libraries system talking the same language had taken Barbara about five minutes, the rest of the time she had spent lazily clearing caches, putting files into alphabetical order and all other mundane jobs that made it look like she was working hard if someone just happened to come down.
Barbara had gotten up out of her chair five times, left the computer room two of those times the second time to get a paper cup of water from a dust covered water dispenser at the end of the corridor, the real reason she was here sat at the end of the long narrow corridor, she sipped the water disliking the old taste of it and scanned the ceiling for any sign of cameras getting a moment of relief when she spotted none.
Getting the schematics for the station had been worryingly easy, that was her first indication of how badly run the public library of Gotham was. The Police Department as it now stood was a new building built upon the foundations of an older structure, a structure that Barbara Gordon was now walking through. When she was Ten she had listened to her dad tell her that the Gotham Police department were tight asses who never threw anything away, they kept it stored just in case.
She now stood in front of a set of iron doors behind which sat the unused, long forgotten and outdated equipment that the department refused to throw away. A rusted hasp hung loosely from one door, the padlock long since missing. Barbara took another look over her shoulder, the stairs leading from the top floor now directly behind her even if she ran she would not make the computer server room without alerting someone. She took a deep breath and pushed one door open.
Barbara reached into her suit pocket and pulled out a small flashlight, she did not want to chance the main lights. Her nose tingled with the years of accumulated dust and she ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth delaying the inevitable sneezing fit that would come. The thin, tight beam of the flash light skipped over equipment that was years old, some piled neatly others tossed haphazardly the further into the room she went. Barbara lowered the flashlight to the floor, footprints disquietingly recent, had kicked up the dust and debris on the floor, somewhere out there a cop or two had added outdated and dangerous equipment to their itinerary in their attempt to catch a man sized Bat.
Barbara sighed, she had plenty of second thoughts about what she was going to attempt but that was when she was going to be the one using lousy equipment now the idea of someone lobbing a twenty year old smoke bomb or worse yet a grenade at her tied her stomach in knots. She found the Kevlar jackets after a deeper search near the door way, she grabbed one and felt the weight of it instantly, without thinking she tossed it across the floor. The next jacket she reached in and found the loose sheets of Kevlar and pulled them out one by one, again tossing them over to where the other jacket now lay.
The next ten minutes went by in agonizing slow time. Barbara's heart was pounding in her throat her hands were shaking and she had knocked a box full of smoke grenades to the ground with her carelessness. More time was wasted clearing them up, by the time she had finished she had added a helmet, twenty or so smoke bombs and a swat uniform she thought might be re-used if she could remember how to sow, along with carabineers, rope (that would probably snap on her first use) and other bits of paraphernalia that she had started to take with no idea on how to use it or what it could be used for a small taste of kleptomania spurring her on.
Barbara's next stop was the disused trash shoot for this floor her small sedan was parked right below the chutes exit on the lower level of the garage. She had scrunched up a gym bag into her handbag which she now loaded and dragged down the opposite corridor to the chute, she lifted it with effort onto the lip of the shoot and it took an almighty push to get it to close. She listened as the bag whacked and banged its way down the chute. Barbara walked back as steady as she could to the server room and straightened herself out.
Barbara had walked through the station as if she had not a care in the world. She thanked the desk sergeant when he had waved at her she even spent another few minutes listening to him talk about what an amazing man her father was yet again. Then she was through and out into the car park, the elevator ride was slow, cops and lawyers were all about her, she smiled back at the ones who smiled at her, shot a dirty look to one creepy looking lawyer who was just about to start chatting to her but in general she kept to herself.
By the time she reached her car the cool calm exterior had given way, her legs shook and she dry heaved by the rear wheel of her car. Her head throbbed as the adrenaline rush finally ebbed and cold hard reality sank in, she was now a criminal even if her reasons were good the law would come down hard on her. The bag was where it should have been, the black hole above her car was the exit of the chute, the bag had slid down and right out landing neatly behind her sedan. She heaved it into the boot before sitting behind the wheel of her car taking deep breaths with her eyes closed, when she left the garage the cool calm exterior was back, and would remain in place until she finished work later that evening.
Boone Arboretum,
Gotham's arboretum was a failure from the moment its doors opened to the general public. It was supposed to be a gift to all of Gotham from a botanist who had been born and raised in Gotham only to die in the middle of a rain forest. His inept son though amazing with architecture declined the services of any Botanist in the choosing of what plants would work. By the time the grand opening half of the Arboretum had a serious fungal problem the other half was dying or dead.
It took six months before the doors were shut for the final time. Kincaid Boone the Architect went bankrupt and fled Gotham owing serious money to the Falcone crime family. Over ten years the arboretum changed hands but never re-opened, it sat a glass tri-domed wonder as the rest of Gotham grew around it until it was nothing more than the wreck that Poison Ivy now inhabited.
The soil was still fertile and it took Ivy only a matter of days to start bringing the exotic dead back to life. Now the arboretum was filled with thick, green, jungle life. Creepers and vines covered most of the walls, ceilings and floor. Wolfsbane, Atrope Bella Donna, Nerum Oliander and other deadly flowers sprouted in profusion throughout the jungle canopy. The large office space near the rear of the Arboretum had given way to the vicious growth of the jungle, the door now hung from the ceiling floorboards ripped up and discarded to make way for root systems. But one space still remained clear a long conference table that now held a mixture of chemical, pharmaceutical and medical equipment that Poison Ivy now leaned over her thoughts lost in the minute chemical reactions that were happening beyond her vision.
"No Bats last night," Harley said pouting. She sat on a table legs swinging back and forth aimlessly, her skirt was hiked up way past her thighs in an attempt to get Ivy's attention to the fact that she wore no panties. Instead she had gotten the attention of a couple of Joker's goons who Harley had brought along for back up. She let them stare it was not like they were ever going to get close enough to taste her. "What happens if he's dead Ivy?"
Poison Ivy paid no attention, her cool eyes flicked from apparatus to apparatus her tongue poked out and pressed against her upper lip something that the long dead Pamela Isley used to do when a troublesome formula presented itself. When Harley asked the question again a little louder this time Ivy turned from the lab machinery that worked tirelessly before her, ever spinning, heating, crystallising, separating, evaporating, and condensing. "Then we rejoice, have a party and watch Gotham burn." She smiled at the show Harley was putting on, but it was a weak, forced smile a requirement to keep Quinn from jumping off the deep end, "But have no fear the Batman lives on, he is holed up somewhere licking his wounds trying to work out just what I am up to."
A large white plastic machine beeped softly and Ivy turned back her brow knitting together, she thumped the counter with one fist. "This is not right," she muttered to herself, the vial was almost all empty she had wasted too much of it already in the course of the last twenty four hours.
Ivy tensed as Harley laid her hands onto her shoulders the girl was getting in her way, inane questions were always a breath away it seemed with Harley today, that was always a problem with the psychotic they just never knew when to shut up. "It's okay Ivy you'll figure it out....oh that's a pretty red flashing light."
Ivy shrugged Harley's hands loose, "It's not pretty it's disappointing, the enzymes separate at a molecular level the way they should, but condensing them back into a liquid is impossible, I am missing something, temperature perhaps..." she lost herself in her thoughts, thoughts that Poison Ivy did not realize belonged to Pamela Isley, deep down the weak woman lived on.
"Well I don't know about the enzymes temperature but I am feeling pretty hot." Harley replied in an up tempo sing song and pushed her body against Ivy dry humping her lover's ample backside as she did.
Ivy's hand was flying through the air before she could stop it she had whirled around and delivered the stinging slap to Harley Quinn's face before her brain could engage. "Don't you understand? If this doesn't work the plan is a failure, there is no plan B." Harley stared wide eyed one hand clutching the side of her white face. Her two goons raced forward grabbing pistols that they had sitting snuggly in the belts of their jeans.
From the ground two creepers whipped out finding the goons ankles and wrapping around lifted them high, another two creepers peeled away from the wall and ceiling and wrapped a death grip around the throats of the dangling goons and tightened. Ivy swallowed her anger, calming herself down. She moved forward towards Quinn and as she did commanded with a simple thought for the creepers to lower the two goons. She hugged Harley feeling the tense body beneath and the rage that was making it shiver. "I need you, I cannot do this without you," the rage lessened. "When this is over we can be together, forever if you want. But right now I need you to help me solve this."
The goons dropped to the ground with an exhalation of what little air was left in their lungs, "You're the brains of this operation not me." Harley said sulkily, her psychology degree for the time being forgotten. "What do you need me to do?" Ivy turned her head and whispered a name into Harley's ear.
Doctor Frederick Zimm had spent his life dealing with the wonders and mysteries of science, he was classed as one of the top ten scientists when he was a young man, his pedestal that was to sit in the annuals of history had crumbled and finally fallen away so that now thirty years later at the age of sixty he found himself teaching college kids the fine art of chemistry. His last class of the day filed out of the room in a display of noise and body parts. Frederick closed his tattered course book and slipped it into his attaché case along with the completed assignment paperwork for his class, just a quick glance had told him that Google had done most of the work, three students work were identical in every fault from a terrible copy and paste effort.
He turned to wipe his white board clean and noticed the young lady stood in the doorway. Her dark hair was tied back in a tight severe bun her eyes covered by thick black rim glasses and her lips a deep shade of red. She wore a pinstripe business suit, the skirt was modest length to her knee's, though the top was a little more daring than Fredrick thought appropriate, the jacket was done up with one button and the white blouse beneath revealed an ample amount of cleavage. "Professor Zimm?" The lady asked with an accent that was jarring in its Brooklyn tones.
"Yes that's me how may I help you?" The doctor asked and the lady walked into his classroom the door slowly closing behind her. She stood in front of his desk and placed a black briefcase flat on the surface. His eyes flicked to the case then to the blue eyes beneath the glasses he caught a glance of the cleavage up close and scolded himself for being so juvenile.
The lady turned the briefcase and opened it up, pulling a sheet of paper out and held it out for Frederick to take. Frederick pushed his glasses up his hawk nose and looked at a complex diagram filled with equations and chemical symbols that crisscrossed the sheet. "This is...this is...I cannot...this compound, these symbols..." he trailed off dumbfounded at what he was seeing.
"My client would like to offer you a healthy reward for helping to fix a small issue," The lady turned the briefcase, the inside was filled with bundles of money, "You would get joint publication rights as well."
Frederick was shaking his head, what he was looking at was unique, a natural compound that could theoretically control the human brain, "this is impossible, how did your client come to find such a compound in nature?"
The lady leaned over the case, her arms pushing either side of her cleavage making a larger display for the Doctor, but he hardly noticed his eyes scanned the sheet of paper oblivious to all around him. "If you are willing my client can meet you now?" The doctor looked up, his eyes going wide at the sight of the breasts that were almost falling out of the blouse and which were clearly braless. "I can take you to her, discuss the matter and then take you home if you agree or disagree." The smile she gave was predatory but Frederick did not care at that moment, the pedestal was going to have to be re-built.
The reality that something was not right only struck Doctor Frederick Zimm when the limousine they were in pulled up outside the dilapidated front of the Arboretum. He delayed climbing from the car when one of the men sitting up front got out and opened the door for him, only moving when the woman in the business suit had nudged him rather sharply to move. Stepping out of the car into the lowering afternoon light Frederick noticed the smart drivers cap the man was wearing and then the bullet hole that had left a hole in the back of it.
The doors to the Arboretum swung open as they approached, Frederick slowed his pace and felt a gun muzzle push painfully into his lower back. Frederick watched with fascination as the vines on the doors tensed then pulled them shut behind them, eh gave a startled cry as he felt a vine slither around his hand and another shot up the sleeve of his jacket pulling both the case and his jacket from him as they continued walking through the overgrown vegetation.
"That's better!" The business suited woman said and Frederick turned to see five or six thick creepers pulling the suit off of her until she was naked. Pale skinned and heavy breasted the woman spun in a tight circle, "feels good," she sung out as she turned then stopped abruptly facing Frederick.
He noticed the look in her eyes then, "You're mad," he stuttered, "this is a madhouse!" The woman laughed and gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.
"What's up doc?" she said and grabbed his groan. Her mouth turned down, "Ah Shucks, no carrot for me, let's hope Ivy's more successful." She stepped back then danced off, quickly hidden from view by the hanging foliage. Frederick felt another stab of a gun muzzle in his back and he continued further into the Arboretum.
The memory of Frederick Zimm belonged to Pamela Isley it was a memory of her teen years which were spent behind thick glasses and braces. In the memory Frederick Zimm was a broad shouldered tall man, with thick black hair and a black beard to match. The man that now stood before the transformed Pamela was stooped and withered even his black hair had given up on life, turning a dull shade of grey. The man shook with nerves, his eyes flicking in every direction flinching when a creeper moved, he almost screamed out as Ivy walked, naked into view from behind a tall, green trunk.
The effect of seeing Ivy naked stopped the man's shakes momentarily, Ivy could see his eyes taking in her full figure his mouth working away, perhaps to say something, perhaps imagining what her thick nipples would feel like clenched between his shriveled lips. Ivy stopped a few feet from the old man she smiled warmly her arms open and palms visible in an attempt to show the man she meant no harm. "Doctor Zimm, it has been a long time since we last met," She saw the man's brow knit together his eyes trying to focus and pick out the face from a life time of faces, she did not expect him to remember and continued on, "Thank you for coming, I take it you are impressed by the compound?"
The man stared at her then at the two men who stood silently just behind him, he turned back and nodded, then coughed loudly before saying, "Yes, very much so...I don't understand why I am here though." Ivy moved forward a step and slightly to the side letting the good doctor catch a glimpse of the machinery behind her. "What are you attempting to do?" Any trace of fear had left the man's voice, it was steady though weak.
"A slight issue with condensing it back down into a liquid I hoped you would be able to help?"
Frederick's eyes slid from the machine and back to the redheaded lady. He knew who she was the moment she had stepped into view. Her nudity had thrown him, her machinery even more so the scientist of old had woken up and began plotting calculations and times...then the woman had mentioned liquid and it had frozen Fredericks heart, "Liquid? You wish to inject this?"
Ivy gave out a loud laugh and placed one warm hand on Fredericks shoulder, "Inject it? That would be madness. No I want to make it airborne, better dispersion rates as an aerosol I'm sure you agree?"
Frederick eyes widen in horror, this was not some simple compound to make one person compliant but a mass of people in one go. "I do not want any part in this," In his horror he turned to walk away, he felt hands grab his arms, only when he looked down the hands that held him were in fact creepers. The two men smirked at the doctor then walked off leaving him alone with Poison Ivy.
The man was lifted from his feet by a few inches then rotated so that he faced Ivy again. The man was breathing heavily and tried to work his arms loose but to no avail. "I must assure you that the benefits of working for me outweigh the negatives." Ivy said as she approached the man again, now eye level with herself, her hands rested on his heaving chest.
"You are a vile woman, a terrorist and a murderer," Frederick shouted out.
Ivy's hands moved from Frederick's chest to his stomach pausing for a moment, "I can be very persuasive," her hands continued down to his belt and worked at the buckle. Frederick fought harder crying out in desperation as his trousers then underwear were pulled down. Ivy cupped his testicles, "This won't hurt doctor," Ivy's other hand closed around the semi-erect penis and slowly began to work it back and forth.
The man's struggles lessened as his cock grew erect with the attention. He was still terrified but he was not sure what of now, "Whatever you are planning..." Ivy silenced him with one finger on his lips. Frederick gave out a loud gasp as Ivy's mouth enveloped his hard cock down to its grey haired root.
Ivy worked him slowly, running her tongue along the length of his cock as she lifted her head, holding his cock head delicately between her teeth and working the head and hole with her tongue before slipping the whole length with ease back into her mouth. The lipstick she wore was one of her many toxins, there were easier ways of administering it but this tended to prove quite successful. The toxin lowered the will power making the victim more accepting, the blow job made them more willing.
It did not take long for the doctor to start panting heavily, his hips bucking as Ivy sped up. She stopped suddenly and looked up at the good doctor, "Do I have your attention now?" her smile spread across her face, "This is only the start for you and me,"
The doctor groaned his hips pushing back and forth making his saliva covered cock brush against Ivy's cheek. "I will...." The doctor took a deep breath, "I will..." A single tear rolled down his face and Ivy knew she had lost, "I will NEVER work for a whore like you," the doctor spat out.
Ivy had expected this to be easier, that had been her mistake one she would not make again. A creeper lazily made its way along the ground, its tip curled around a thin cylinder. It uncurled as it reach Ivy and dropped the cylinder into her waiting hand. Ivy applied a shocking red lipstick to her full lips, "If that's how you feel doctor, let me give you a parting gift." And with that she engulfed his still hard cock again. She squeezed his testicles painfully and tugged her mouth working back and forth with speed on his shaft, the lipstick smearing as it went. Ivy felt him tense, heard that unmistakable gasp, and her mouth released his cock at the last second.
Even Ivy gasped as Fredericks cock twitched sending a large load of cum across her chest and breasts, it was thick and warm but after the first explosion the rest dribbled feebly from him a string of it connecting one hard nipple to his cock head. Already Ivy could see her last toxin darkening the skin on his withering cock. A sudden cry escaped Frederick's mouth, his arms reached forward to grab at his groin but the creepers held him firmly in place.
"I take it he declined your offer?" Harley said stepping into the room, her eyes more interested in her lover than the soon to be dead man. Harley's hand went eagerly to the thick mess that had spattered across Ivy and she smeared the already cooling cum into her pale green skin then moving in bigger arks to take in her heavy breasts and hard nipples.
Frederick's cock had now swollen to twice its girth and had turned an ugly bruised colour that now continued to spread across his hips and up his stomach. He cried out in pain, his body trying to double over but unable to as the creepers held him up straight. Ivy stared into the man's eyes as death began to take hold; she paid no attention to Ivy as her tongue worked across her cum smeared breasts, taking each nipple in turn into her mouth.
By the time Frederick gave his last choked breath the lower part of his body had become swollen and black. Ivy gently placed her hand on Ivy's chin lifting her head upwards and away from her breasts, she wanted nothing more than to let Harley fuck her but that would have to wait. "I have another name for you this one should be more amenable." The creepers carried off the corpse of Frederick Zimm, Harley watched as the creepers bent the body snapping the spine with ease, she knew what was coming but still her mouth dropped open as a large mouth appeared in the canopy of leaves, the body was fed in and the mouth shut slowly.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Batman: Downfall