Poison Ivy paced back and forth, in and out of Fink's vision. "Mr Fink, I have a proposal for you. If you're interested, just say yes now and we can negotiate terms."

"And if I say no?" Fink's eyes searched the room. He'd managed to trigger the silent alarm at his desk, but the muscle-bound guards didn't appear to have shown up yet. He was going to have a serious talk with someone once this was over.

"You get fed to one of my plants. Slowly."

"Well then. I suppose we're going to negotiate. What is it that you want?"

Ivy walked over to Fink's chair and sat down, leaning forward on his desk. "Mr Fink, I watched your men take care of the Bats this evening. By my guess, you were about two minutes away from blowing your entire operation."

"A minor accident, Miss Isley."

"That's Ivy, thank you. And certainly, just a slip, but you can't afford a single mistake in the city of the Batman. I'm offering you... let's call it local knowledge. I've fought with all of the costumed do-gooders this city has to offer for decades. I can tell you how they fight, where they patrol, what they look out for."

"That's certainly a generous offer. And in exchange?" Fink wriggled his right hand. It was almost loose from the vine that held it, and it was only an inch from the emergency panel. One push and BTI's Happy Gas (patent pending) would flood the room, leaving him fine but stunning Ivy.

"I'm not done, Mr Fink. I was a chemist, in a past life, and I have some lipsticks in particular that I think your lab boys would be able to do wonders with."

Fink's hand was nearly at the panel now, but even he had to admit this was sounding like a good offer. "In exchange?"

"Four things. First, the promise of complete immunity from your operation. I don't need to wake up one day not being able to spell my own name. Two, I want to head up your R&D division, and work on my own projects here in the meantime - with your approval, of course. Third: once you've taken this city, I want the Cat and Harley Quinn, no questions asked, and I want to decide what's done to them."

"And the fourth?"

"Mr Fink, I'd very much like a turn in your body modification machine."

Fink's brain raced. The first one was fine - he hadn't planned on tangling with the supervillains unless they'd gotten in the way anyway. The second one was doable too - R&D could always use another mind working there, especially a willing one, and Ivy was a chemistry genius. Her mind control lipstick alone would be perfect for them, and if they could figure out how her pheromones worked... The Cat and the Clown he'd have to check with Luthor; if either one of them were necessary in his plan he was far more scared of angering the bald man than he was the woman in front of him. And the scientists would love having a willing volunteer for the Bod Mod - they'd always wondered if it worked differently on a subject who wanted it, if it was worth trying to break them before they made them beautiful.

But, at the same time, his hand felt the panel. One touch, and Ivy would be out of it. They wouldn't be able to use her brain, of course; they'd have to make do with a twisted bimbo version. Was it worth it?

"Might I ask why you don't just use some of your mind control lipstick on me and take over the company? Bargaining doesn't sound like your usual style, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I thought about it. But you're in bed with Lex Luthor, and who knows who else. I thought it was best to not jump straight into a company that I still know so little about."