Poison Ivy

“Ekat em ot eht rewothctaw!”

Zatanna vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Tim alone. But not for long. A minute later she was back.

“Okay. So...”

Zatanna says, holding an opaque plastic bag.

“You just need to look like a villain, right? Nobody specific?”

Tim shook his head.

“Well, obviously a villain who isn’t already going to be at the meeting. Having two of anyone show up would definitely turn some heads.”

Zatanna nodded.

“You’ll also need to be someone fairly well known, to make sure you get a seat at the table. So... I know of only one villain right now who fits those criteria. She’s been imprisoned aboard the Watchtower for a few months now, after Superman arrested her in Metropolis. She was trying to control the plants in a new vertical green space or something like that.”

Tim closed his eyes. “...Pamela Isley.”

“Yeah. I’ve been playing cards with her on Wednesdays. Anyway, she’s your best bet. Got arrested quietly, no news coverage, and it wasn’t in Gotham. Odds are none of the other villains even know that it happened. And, since she’s on the Watchtower, I was able to get exactly what I needed right out of the evidence locker! Nice, right?”

Zatanna tore the bag open.

“Zee! You’re not supposed to do that! You’re contaminating evidence!”

Tim sputtere Zatanna rolled her eyes.

“Detectives,” she rolled her eyes with a scoff.

“You want a disguise or not?”

She drew a green leotard with a rough texture from inside the bag. Rough textured, because it was made from leaves. Tim sighed.

“Not the first time I had to do something embarrassing for a case. First time it involved magic though.”

“So why are you asking me? I know Bruce and Alfred taught you plenty about disguises.”

“I can’t risk my usual methods. Not this time. There’s too many variables. I’m hearing rumors about this meeting being attended by everyone from Killer Croc to Black Mask. Villains that I’ve fought dozens of times over the years. One of them might recognize something. I need this disguise to be as perfect as possible.”

_“And you’re okay with this plan?” _Zatanna looked at him closely.

“I’m sure there’s another option if you’d rather do something a little less drastic.”

“I’ll make it work. I should have enough time to review her mannerisms and speech patterns before the meeting starts.”

“Not what I meant.”

“No. I’m not looking forward to this. But it’s the best way I can think of right now to make sure I know what’s going on. This many villains, it has to be something important. Something that Bruce needs to know about. So if it means… you know, for a night, then so be it.”

“Well okay then!”

Zatanna grinned with newfound enthusiasm.

“S’tel teg siht wohs detrats!” she waved her wand. She stepped back out onto the stage and bowed to the now empty theater.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest tonight!” she announced.

“Please, a big round of applause for Timothy Drake!” she said in her best stage voice. Sure enough there was the sound of applause coming from… somewhere.

_“...Zee, what’s going on?” _Tim asked. She glanced over at him.

“Don’t break my flow. Come on, it’s fun!”

A spotlight shone on the stage next to her. Reluctantly, Tim walked out. The applause strengthened. Tim squinted past the stage lights. Not a single person in the audience. Nor was there anyone to operate the lights. But it was all happening anyway. Magic, obviously.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Tim has a very special party he needs to attend,” Zatanna declared.

“And he’s going to need a very special outfit!”

Zatanna held the leafy leotard in front of Tim as if checking it for size.

“Oh, but it looks like he’s gonna need to grow into it, if you know what I mean. How about we help him with that?”

The invisible audience cheered.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Sure!”

Zatanna laughed. She waved her wand, and smoke billowed up from an opening that had suddenly appeared in the stage behind them. From the opening rose a wooden crate, just large enough for a single person to fit inside. It looked like something that would be found in a garden for storing fertilizer or something like that

“...You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Tim muttered as Zatanna swung the door open.

“You do realize that you’re the only person I trust with something like this, right?”

Zatanna nodded, her smile going from ‘stage personality’ to a more genuine one.

“I know. And you owe me dinner for this, by the way. Someplace nice. After I change you back I mean.”

He stepped inside, squeezing his shoulders into the narrow space.

“You bet. Thanks again.”

Zatanna gave him a wink, and then swung the door shut, leaving him in darkness.

“Uh, is there anything that I’m supposed to do here?”

Tim asked, the sound of his voice echoing back at him off the lid of the box.. Zatanna was already hyping the non-existent crowd once again, and didn’t answer. Outside, Zatanna was in her element.

“Since we’re gonna be helping our friend Tim go green, we’re gonna need a few things! Fortunately, a great magician is always prepared—even for emergency gardening!”

She whisked off her hat, her still flawless hairstyle a minor magic trick in of itself, and reached inside.

“We’re going to need water—” she said, extracting an antique copper watering can from her hat, followed by a small bag, “Fertilizer,” she said, holding the bag aloft.

“And of course, lots of light!” A bright spotlight shone down on the box, even brighter than the stage lights already beaming down. Zatanna spun the box around, sprinkling it with water, then the contents of the fertilizer pouch.

“And now the secret ingredient!” she declared, tapping the box with her wand.

“S'tel ekam mit og neerg!”

A second tap of her wand and the sides of the box fell away, revealing… A tree. Its branches and leaves made an outline the same size and shape as Tim, like a topiary artist had tried to create a full body portrait of him.. The audience gasped. Zatanna tapped a finger against her lips.

_“Looks like we need a little more work,” she said to the audience. She reached into her hat once more, and revealed a set of gardeners' shears. With confident movements Zatanna started to prune away leaves. Tim's _broad shoulders were reduced first, his waist made even slimmer, his arms also being trimmed to a far more slender format. Zatanna clicked the shears around his hips and waist, coaxing the leaves into a more rounded shape. His legs were sculpted as well, making them longer, more shapely. She scratched her chin for a moment, observing her handiwork thus far. Tim’s torso had come along nicely but it was missing something.

“Oh, heh, right! Almost forgot! S’tel worg reh emos sboob!”

The audience cheered and whistled as two sizable lumps appeared on the sculpture.

“And I think it’s about time you embrace womanhood, dear Timothy! Ekam reh yllacimotana terroc!”

The bulge on the sculpture faded, leaving Tim’s crotch smooth and flat. It wasn’t abundantly obvious what she had changed, but the nonexistent audience could make a wild guess.

Finally his face. Zatanna clipped away with incredible precision, Tims masculine features becoming softer, his strong neck trimmed to a thinner one. Soon, the topiary no longer looked at all like Tim Drake, the Red Robin, but rather a certain plant loving criminal. Zatanna stepped back, closing one eye and holding out her thumb like an artist trying to get a proper sense of scale.

“Almost there. But Tim can hardly go to a party while rooted in place. But we can fix that!”

Laying the shears aside, she took up her wand again.

“Egnahc siht yraipot ot a namuh!”

The leaves started to fall away. Slowly at first, but then in clumps, revealing pale flesh beneath, long red hair, long legs. Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy, or rather, someone who looked exactly like her, now stood on stage, blinking and looking around in surprise. The ‘audience’ broke out into cheering, applause, and even a few catcalls.

Zatanna grabbed Tim’s hand and took a bow. Tim, still somewhat stunned, bowed as well. The curtains whisked closed, and just like that, they were in an empty theater once again. Then Tim glanced down, and realized that he, now she, was not only transformed, but was only wearing a leafy equivalent to underwear.

“Zee!” Tim yelped.

“What happened to the leotard thing?!”

Zatanna handed the item of clothing over, snickering.

“Sorry. You should have seen your face though. Oh, and here. These should complete the ensemble, as it were. Ekam eseht sevael otni sehtolc!”

The pile of leaves nearby wove themselves into a pair of leafy thigh high boots, which Zatanna also handed over.

“Did you just turn me into a tree?!”

Tim demanded as she got dressed. There was honestly not a huge difference between the leotard and the underwear, but it would have to work. For the time being, Tim would be pretending to be Poison Ivy after all. She slipped her feet into the boots, wobbling on the six inch heels before catching herself on Zatanna.

“And then I turned you into what you wanted!” Zatanna retorted.

“Did you honestly expect me to just wave my wand and have it happen in a puff of smoke?”

“Well… yeah? I mean, isn’t that what you usually do?”

Tim complained, trying to brush her newly long auburn hair back over her shoulder. Just a disguise, she reminded herself. Just a disguise. No different than any other disguise you’ve had to use. Just… a really realistic disguise.

“Sure, I could have done that, but that’s just because I usually don’t have the time to get creative with it. I am a showman, remember?”

Zatanna smirked.

“I appreciate that you’ve been a good sport about it, I really do.”

Tim sighed, only just then noticing how weird it was to have Poison Ivy’s breathy voice coming from her mouth.

“Ahem. Glad I could make it entertaining for you,” she said.

Tim took a second to look down at her new form, her own deep cleavage staring back up at her encased in the immodest costume. She hadn’t anticipated what it would be like to actually wear the damn thing. Or what it would feel like to possess the curves to pull it off.

“This thing rides up a little bit…”

She tucked at the bottom portion which clung to her new shapely ass.

“I think it looks great! Very convincing, if I do say so myself.”

Zatanna beamed.

“So where are you headed now?”

“Back to the Batcave. Need to brush up on mannerisms and such like I said. Gonna be tough but I’ll make it happen. I only have a few hours before the meeting starts.”

Zatanna nodded.

“Good luck. I wish I could help with that part too but usually that kind of mind-magic can have some long term effects.”

Tim nodded.

“Yeah. I’d rather avoid that. Uh, but would you happen to have a jacket or something I could wear until I get back to the cave?”

Zatanna laughed again, and went to find Tim a jacket. Tim, now wearing a borrowed hoodie, sweatpants, and some tennis shoes that Zatanna had lying around, hurried back to her motorcycle.

“Computer,” Tim said to the motorcycles onboard systems,

“Have the Cave mainframe pull up every bit of archival footage available on Pamela Isley. Emphasis on voiceprint and physical mannerisms.”

“User not recognized. Initiating defenses—” the bike responded.

“Override code eight one nine eight nine,” Tim said.

“Log temporary user.”

“Acknowledged. Archive request sent.”

Riding the bike felt different. The seat seemed too soft, the balance altered as well. Tim knew that it wasn’t the bike that had changed. The flap of hair in the wind was also annoying. But she didn’t have time to get a car. Fifteen minutes of reckless driving later, she was back at the cave- and this time, she disarmed the defenses before attempting to enter. The countermeasures on her bike were one thing. The Batcave, that was an entirely different matter. Batman did not mess around when it came to home security. Thankfully, no one else was around. The last thing she wanted was to be mistaken for a supervillain by a Bat Family member only to have to explain who she really was and waste time. She hopped on the Batcomputer and began absorbing as much information about Pamela Isley as she could. From more in depth facts about her life and childhood to the nitty gritty details about her accident that turned her into Poison Ivy.

Two flew by and Tim had to leave again. She’d studied as quickly as possible, and she felt she had the performance as polished as it was going to get. She even learned a host of other things about Poison Ivy she was not privy to prior, which was going to make her acting all the more believable. It had been easier than some disguises she had used—apparently, being magically transformed into an exact copy of the subject was helpful for getting into character. Tim took a separate vehicle since her Red Robin cycle was going to be too much of a dead giveaway. She took a beat up and anonymous looking sedan and drove to the meeting spot.

Obviously Poison Ivy wouldn’t drive—but Tim was in a hurry. She left the car nearby, and walked the rest of the way, to make sure nobody got suspicious. Walking around like this was… strange. Still, not the strangest thing Tim had ever done for a case. It was fairly easy to tell where the meeting was being held. This was a bad part of Gotham, well, a worse part of Gotham.

Every Gothamite knew that at this time of night, the only people out and about were the criminals. And they were all moving in one direction, towards the remains of what had once been the Gotham City Courthouse. This entire section of the city had been quite upscale—until an earthquake, riots, and a few bombings, all in close succession, had rendered it into a shell of its former self. Fairly typical for Gotham, really. Members of Two-Face’s gang were armed and waiting at the door alongside members of Penguin’s gang. It was unusual to see the two groups cooperating—but it also confirmed exactly how important this event was. Tim approached, the thugs not daring to stop her. They saw only Poison Ivy after all. Even goons like them knew to keep their distance. They dared not breathe a word to her, even going as far as avoiding eye contact. She’d never felt this imposing before, especially given she was dressed quite immodestly.

Once inside, Tim followed the arrows scrawled on the walls in green paint until she found the courtroom. Two-Face was sitting as judge, of course, while the jury box was filled with practically every member of the Gotham Rogues Gallery that Tim could think of. A collection of the worst her city had to offer, from Riddler, Penguin, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Catwoman, Bane, and Mr. Freeze, all the way to the likes of Firefly, Mad Hatter, Catman, White Rabbit, and Kite-Man.

“Your seat is right over there. Uh, ma’am,” said a nearby gang member, gesturing to an empty seat in the jury box, right next to the massive form of Bane.

“You can call me Ivy, darling.”

Tim winked at the guard and his heart skipped a beat, her pheromones taking hold of his psyche without her even aware of it.

“Ivy, quit fraternizing with my goons and have a seat! Court is in session.”

Bane barked.

"Alright, alright, no need to get aggressive.”

Tim found her seat, though being in close proximity to the man that broke Batman’s back was the least of her worries. She was far more distracted by who was sitting in the defendant’s chair.