AN/ Just a oneshot for the forseeable future.

Warning: Don't read if you don't like lemons.


The data compiled from the multiple investigations was…interesting…to say the least. It was also full of an incredible number of holes and dead ends. For all intensive purposes, there was simply no reason for a full grown tree to simply appear out of nowhere. Especially in a technological hub like Gotham. And to make the situation even more bizarre were the countless thugs ensnared in its branches waiting for the police to come get them, decorating it in much the same manner as a Christmas tree.

That showed the hand of a person. Someone with a sense of humor.

The events of the case screamed one name out at him. Pamela Isley. Poison Ivy. Accurate in regards to ability, but there was no motive, and he was keenly aware of where all his old enemies resided. Dead or otherwise.

He absentmindedly pulled up her file. Documents appeared in the margins of the screen while a current photo was posted in the center. Due to her unique plant physiology, human aging no longer applied to her. She had remained virtually the same over the decades.

Once her term at Arkham was over, years down the line, the government had made a deal with the villainess. In return for halting her experiments and any other criminal behavior, she would be given her freedom, and charged as the caretaker of several forest preserves in South America. It wasn't much, but it was more than she had expected. So she had agreed. And she had done so, remaining quiet in the jungles, and stayed relatively peaceful so long as no one attempted to harm her plant protectorate.

He brought up the current case file. The act of creating the tree screamed Ivy, but there weren't any chemicals used to grow it. A startling scientific oddity. Then, with all he'd seen, he supposed there was a chance it had been grown beyond the normal laws of science. Still, if he knew Barbara as well as he did, she would be calling on the plant woman soon enough.

"Wow, who's the hot chick?"

Bruce didn't even turn to regard the youth, but decided to deign him with an answer. "A psychopath."

Walking up to the computer, hands in his blazer, the teen took a quick glance through the open files. "Poison Ivy? Wasn't she one of your old baddies?"

"Still is," the aged man corrected. "Ivy's plant biology has all but stunted her growth. She's still the same age now as she was then."

Leaning against the console, "This about that tree down on Fifth street?" The old man said nothing, he didn't need to. "So what's this mean?"

Typing, displaying the other files for the younger hero. "Ivy was granted a reprieve from her sentence twenty years ago. She was allowed her freedom. In exchange for her stopping her attacks and appeasement, she was granted protection over several forests in South America."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea."

Bruce steepled his hands in front of him. "It was a bribe to keep her happy. Both she and everyone else knew that she could serve multiple life sentences and walk out of prison no older than when she went in. Where's the punishment in that?"

"Okay, I get the point. So…she behind the tree?"

"…No, at least as far as I can tell. And she hasn't left South America, either. Worst comes to worst, we could have someone new on our hands."

"Isn't there another option?" asked Terry, and got a mild glance from his elder. "The tree was decorated in Jokerz. What if it wasn't some new baddie, but a new hero?"

"…Possible…but I doubt it."


Attention going back to the opened file, "…this is Gotham we're talking about. Regardless, I'm certain that if this continues the Commissioner will call on Ivy to question her of her involvement, and possibly as a consultant." The answer was solemn but reeked of common sense.

Two and a half months later:

A shapely form padded lightly down the steps from the cruiser jet. Wearing a light trenchcoat, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of dark sunglasses, there was little chance of being recognized as a former terror of Gotham. The trip had been surprisingly comfortable. Meaning they wanted something from her. The first thing she noted, exiting the aircraft, was the aching pain she felt at the cold, sterility of the massive city. It was dark and cold, little light making it past the tall buildings to allow plants to flourish. How she wanted to-but, no. She wouldn't risk her beloved plants for this place. Years of care had made her jungle home her priority. And the dozen officers from Gotham PD continued to sway her into playing along. "Pamela Isley, the Commissioner has asked us to escort you to the station to speak with her," a young woman said briskly. In fact, they were all women. Clever, clearing up any risk of her using her pheromones. She was free, and peaceful so long as she was left alone, but that didn't mean they trusted her, or her them.

The entire trip to the police station, a route she was still very familiar in, she and her guards kept a mutually agreed upon silence, the latter occasionally sending curious glances in her direction. She was, after all, a villain from before their time, even if she looked just barely into her twenties, no older than they themselves.

Ivy paused a moment outside the door, momentarily caught up in the name embossed on the glass. 'Another Gordon as Commissioner, why am I not surprised?' A second later, said door opened in front of her, and she, along with a portion of her escorts, filed in.

At the back of the room, in front of an impressive window, was a large, metal desk. Seated behind which was an old woman, possibly in her sixties or seventies. She recognized Barbara Gordon from the old days. She should, she'd kidnapped the girl's father often enough.

The female guards took point around the room, hands still on their tranq. guns.

"Commissioner Gordon." Talk about irony. Here she was, and she wasn't under arrest, nor had she done anything wrong. Surreal.

"Miss Isley," the woman greeted curtly, but still maintaining a modicum of politeness. "I'm sure the trip was taxing. Please, sit." And, for the sake of continued equality, the plant woman acquiesced, taking the chair opposite the desk. Removing the hat and sunglasses, she placed the pair in her lap. Red hair, a mix of auburn and crimson, spilled down her back, no longer held at bay, a great contrast to the flawless, pale green flesh. Seafoam green eyes shone brightly with intelligence and wariness.

Deciding against beating around the proverbial bush, Barbara detailed the latest events. "Over the last few months there have been numerous…occurrences…that bear a striking resemblance to things you yourself once did."

"I haven't left my little reservation in-"

"Yes, we know. Due to the similarity, I asked you here as a consultant, to see if you could shed some light on the matter."

Ivy's brow raised in mild surprise before creasing, "Perhaps if you went into a little more detail. You haven't even told me what's going on, besides saying it's like my old glory days."

"A little over three months ago, a tree appeared in the club district of downtown Gotham."

Ivy blinked. "…A tree… Well, besides the unbelievable fact that a tree grew, here of all places, I can't see anything wrong."

"Let me finish then. From what we can tell, it simply grew there, sometime during the night, and was found decorated with a dozen of the…less than law abiding citizenry." Ivy raised an eye at that. "Then, a few weeks later, an orchard popped up in the middle of the slum district. Besides those two events, there have been over half a dozen others."

"Someone is using plants to do good?" The idea of someone else with the ability to manipulate plants wasn't altogether new, what with the occasional metahuman. But some of the things the Commissioner went on to describe were a little hard to believe for anyone less skilled than herself.

"I'd like to examine one of these plants."

Ivy's eyes grew wide as she took in the massive tree. Her hands shook as she reverently laid a hand on the bark. Reaching out, she could feel no unnatural growth inducing agents, or anything the slightest bit out of the ordinary for that matter. But what she did feel… The tree… Never had she felt something so…alive. Like its cells were supercharged. It was…amazing.

"I've never seen anything like this before," she murmured lowly in awe, appreciating the beautiful specimen.

One of the guards snorted. "You should see the orchard."

"Sergeant," the Commissioner barked, silencing her.

"Actually, I would," the plant specialist agreed.

From the rooftops of Gotham, a dark silhouette rested on a shadowed overhang, watching over the police and their…consultant…as they went around to a few of the spots where the plants had appeared. "She doesn't look like a big bad," he spoke to himself, and was rewarded by a deep voice coming over the communicator in his cowl. "She looks hot," he added.

-Don't underestimate Ivy. She's only complying out of curiosity.-

The dark figure stood up as the cops headed out, former villainess in tow, a red bat becoming visible on his chest. "Why's that? Someone grows a few plants and that peaks her interest?"

-…There aren't many people with control over plants, metahuman or otherwise. And few, besides herself, with the ability to do anything like what we've been seeing,- the aged man supplied. -I've only ever met one or two others, and their abilities fell far short of this level. I would assume she wants to meet this person for some personal reason.-

Terry kicked off from the ledge, spreading his arms and revealing red wings as his boot jets engaged. Sticking to a decent distance, and remaining well out of sight, he followed the police escort, for the rest of the day, silently grumbling about the loss of an entire Saturday that he could have spent with Dana. And that had been a hopeful reprieve from the papers he had yet to write.

Elsewhere, Time Unknown:

He hadn't really meant for it to go as far as it had, but somehow it had. After the first two times, using plants, trees, had become a bit of a calling card for him.

He wasn't like any of those anal heroes, or their nutty villain counterparts. He wasn't for the dark side, but neither did he stray too far into the light. Sure, he'd busted up a few criminals, but that was because he had been there at the right time. He wasn't averse to helping people; he was just tired of always being the good guy who hunted the bad guys. He'd had enough of that back home on his Earth. Now, he did what he wanted, stayed out of sight, and helped others if the opportunity arose.

It was nice though, not spending every moment of every day fighting. Not that he was getting rusty. His well honed paranoia demanded that he train and stay wary of his surroundings. But without the constant fighting of the shinobi life, he was at peace. Okay, so he was bored as Hell, but the number of people trying to kill him, actively, had decreased by several levels of magnitude.

He took the occasional odd job. He was an off-and-on bouncer with a decent record of success, and that paid well enough once word of his dependability had leaked out. His main source of currency though were the occasional thugs he beat up and left for the police. So, while they were unconscious he would pilfer anything of value. Creds, as the currency was called, watches, jewelry, and the like. He was a good guy, but he needed to pay bills, too, and these hooligans most likely didn't have any honest use for money that they themselves had stolen. So he didn't feel too guilty about it.

It was rather nice walking the streets and not receiving glares of recognition. In fact, it seemed the custom to pretty much ignore anyone you didn't immediately recognize. Lucky him that there wasn't anyone on the planet who knew who he was, or what he was for that matter.

Leaning across the railing of his chair, sitting in a reverse position, he lazily watched the afternoon fade into night. It wasn't a grand apartment, but it was more than enough for him. Saying that it was twice the size of his old one back in Konoha meant nothing as that one had been barely bigger than a small bedroom.

Still, as much as he knew he would never go home, out of choice, he had to admit that he was bored. Back in the Elemental Countries, no one would find the things he could do to be odd, but here…he had to keep hidden…mostly. Sighing, he ran a tanned hand through his bright yellow hair, the spikes falling back down over his eyes. A moment longer of nothing and he pushed himself to his feet. "Gah, enough. Wonder if there're any movies out?" Pulling on his jacket, he was out the door a second later, locking it behind him.

It was still early Spring and the weather, while not cold, still grew a bit brisk once the sun went down. While it wasn't considered very stylish, he wore a dark bandana to cover his bright hair. A rule as shinobi was to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, that way you'll be forgotten, if you're noticed at all. His whisker-like scars had faded to where he no longer needed to conceal his face, so that was uncovered.

One thing he would never get used to though…these damn clothes. It was all form, with very little function. And when he had looked for something that could take a beating, like the clothes used to play sports, he had taken a look at those full-body suits and immediately walked out of the store. No. Freakin'. Way.

Part of him longed for the freedom to just jump upward, away from the crowded streets and run along the buildings. An urge he kept well in check. Resigned to the current bout of boredom, he pulled up his collar and kept moving.

"These plants are all quite fascinating," Ivy thought aloud. "The orchards were grown from seeds, but the tree you showed me… It doesn't exist in any botanical records." Commissioner Barbara Gordon furrowed her brow at the words spoken by the onetime botanist. Not that she doubted her words, but the odd fire of interest in her words caught her eye.

"Do you have any idea who coul-"

"Not in the slightest." Barbara frowned. "My dear commissioner, if I knew who was creating such wonders, do you really think I would be talking to you, now, instead of them?" Ivy asked sarcastically. "Really, with all the 'heroes' around these days, I can't see why you're so bothered."

"This new person is an unknown. We called the Justice League first. They have no idea who is doing this either and can't spare any members at the moment. While admittedly odd, it still isn't enough so as to enter their bailiwick. Until we have a face or a motive, he or she is still a potential-"

"Me," Ivy finished for her. She wasn't 'bad' anymore, her time caring for her own reserve doing much to cool her temper, but she could understand the perspective, a little. She had been rather rambunctious in those days. "Then I think I have an idea for you, Commissioner," she said with a mischievous smile.

Groaning, the disheveled blonde practically fell out of bed. Stumbling with all the grace of a tap dancing rhino, he eventually made his way into the small kitchenette. After a minute of rummaging in the cupboards, he retreated to the couch with a bowl of cereal. Bleary eyes glared balefully at the tv as attempt after attempt at turning it on failed. Some mornings, he could wake before dawn and feel all crisp and new, but there were also days like today where he woke up feeling like death warmed over. Finally though, he managed to switch on the blasted device.

Crunching along, he listened to the morning news. The only thing that really affected him was the weather, but, then again, not knowing what was going on could seriously fuck him over in the future.

-And back to this morning's top story. A massive, man-eating plant has appeared in the park of uptown Gotham city. Reports are still coming in, but- That was as far as he heard before taking on an expression of WTF. Was he sleep walking again? -This just in. It seems the person responsible is none other than Pamela Isley, the reformed villain Poison Ivy. Her plants have spread throughout the park turning it into a veritable jungle. The Justice League is unable to stop her as they're stretched thin with the earthquakes that went through Tokyo recently. We'll have more on that later. In other n- Naruto switched off the news. He was torn. Help and be noticed, or finish his breakfast?

Damnit, sometimes having a conscience really sucked. Still, something seemed off about that report.

Observing from the crowd, he snorted in disbelief, shaking his head.

It was a trap.


More to the point, it wasn't for the plant woman. Not meaning to be egotistical, but he wondered if it was meant for him. Officially, all the heroes weren't in the area, and there was a rather small list of unofficial heroes. And with his abilities…who else to take him on than someone who could, in theory, take on his own plants. "Ahh, when you're popular," he thought ruefully.

"I can't believe he didn't show," Barbara grit out, glaring into her mug of coffee. Across from her, Ivy was less than happy herself.

"I'd better not be arrested for this. You agreed to the plan-"

"Rest assured, Ivy. Your help has been taken into consideration." Rubbing her tired eyes, "Thank you for your assistance so far, but it might be best if you return to-"

"Commissioner," interrupted a lieutenant, popping his head through the sliding door.

"What is it, Gramm?" she asked sourly.

"There was a delivery for Poi-Miss Isley an hour ago."

Both Ivy and Barbara both bore the same expression. They'd been in the game too long to recognize this as just a coincidence. "What is it?"

"A flower, ma'am."


"No, ma'am, it's a flower not flowers," trying not to sweat at correcting his boss.

Ivy's eyes practically glowed at the potted rose in front of her. Its stem was a soft green, while its leaves took on a bluer green hue. Its petals were, surprisingly, dark green, almost blue, with splashes of white in the mix. Her eyes practically devoured the plant.

While the photosynthetic woman was absorbed by the flora, Comm. Gordon was more focused on the card. Interestingly, it was addressed to both herself and Ivy. 'Your people are bad actors. Better luck next time.' She groaned.

Insult, meet injury.

Through some rather laborious dealings, Commissioner Gordan managed to get Ivy's stay extended for the foreseeable future, until whoever it was was caught or until she herself decided to leave.

Curiously, though she had her own lands to watch over, the floral woman was enraptured enough by the mystery to stick around, if only for a short time. However, that didn't mean that she wasn't under guard.

Caressing the blue petals, fingertips gently running across the smooth plant flesh, "Who are you?" she wondered aloud. Boiled down, her manipulation of plants was science, no matter how she hyped it up. This… Whichever way she looked at it, it was creation, simple yet astounding.

That wasn't to say she was completely clueless. As the commissioner was also undoubtedly aware, the new plant user had to be male. The flower as a gift, cliché but thoughtful, along with the tone of the card gave it away.

Something about the idea of a male with greater power over her own element, while a bit irritating, intrigued her greatly. Never had she met someone who could be her equal.

Batman and many other heroes may have beaten her, but they weren't her equal. She had wanted a counterpart.

Still did.

An Adam to her Eve.

-I'm sending it over now, Bruce.- Tuning out the voice of the once Batgirl, the aged detective focused on the massive computer screen.

The Gotham PD had been running through any and all footage surrounding the areas of incidence, but come up with nothing. It had only been a moment of pure serendipity that someone had noticed something odd picked up by one of the cameras.

Unfortunately, their computer systems were pitiful in comparison to his own mainframe. They had been unable to identify, let alone clear up, what they saw.

So, unofficially, Barbara outsourced.

"It's here," he answered aloud. "I'll call you back when I get something." No "if" anywhere.


Terry continued to don the batsuit, unnerved by the eerie silence of his predecessor to the cowl. "Come on, Bruce," he tried to rationalize. "It's not impossible."

But the elderly Wayne was a veteran when it came to successful hunches, and his gut was telling him something was off. "The average person gets caught on camera hundreds of times every day." Lit up on the screen was a mop of unruly hair, overshadowing a face. This was the fruit of his labors. Hours of processing, and this was the best he could get. "Do you comprehend just how difficult it is to go about unseen? Only two cameras even got this. Coincidence? It's possible, but highly unlikely, almost to the point of absurdity. He stuck to the shadows, and any time a camera actually caught him, his face was hidden." It wasn't much to go on, but it was something.


Slipping out wasn't difficult. Not overly. She would get nowhere with Gordan. Her people only hindered her movements. She hadn't made mention of it, but…

When she'd seen those botanical wonders, stood among them, inhaling their scents…she'd felt the odd force among them. That irrepressible sensation of…well, life. A feeling that tickled the back of her mind, letting her know that she was indeed sensing something. Perhaps it was due to her own semi-arboreal nature. There was no telling. But she could, with some effort, feel out for the energy that they radiated, like a flower keeping its face to bear on the sun as it passed through the sky.


Computer coming to life animatedly, "Ivy's on the move." Tapping in numerous commands, the screen brought up video feed, showing the plant mistress taking her leave of the loosely guarded lodging.

Pulling his mask down over his face, "Want me to drop her with the PD?"

"…No." The new Batman blinked, waiting in confusion for an answer. "Follow her. Let's see where she's going, first." He had a hunch. If he was right, then she was searching for the unknown plant user. Perhaps she'd come up with a lead. He was already aware of why she didn't inform the police.

To describe it would be…difficult.

How does one describe the feeling of warmth as you enter the range of a campfire? Moreover, without actually knowing what it is you're feeling. She could feel it, and follow that feeling she did.

And, while using that same metaphor, it was as if she'd never felt that warmth before. So then how would one describe it other than being there or not so?

Once on the street though, she blended into the crowd as best she could, utilizing the general disinterest of those around her and the garb of the times. Clothes were…an annoyance, but one she would have to tolerate for now. Synthetics were really not her friend.


She'd spent hours homing in on the…feeling. It was elusive, either by chance or by intent, but the distance was closing.


For the most part the streets were dead, given that you stayed away from spots where punks would congregate. The areas where you were likely to be mugged and/or roughed up. In some areas though, traffic, human traffic, was still thick. Theaters, clubs, all the places tailored to take money from those eager to spend it, remained open well into the morning hours.

This was what he did in his spare time, which he was in excess of.

He couldn't just go for moonlight runs over the rooftops, that would attract all the attention he didn't want, and more. So he would just walk, for hours on end.

Hands in his jacket pockets, he milled through the people around him, loud and lively as they were. A ghost no matter how you saw it.

His steps faltered, weighed down. Ever so lazily, he turned and glanced over his shoulder. Amused, if relaxed, blue eyes sought out and locked with the green eyes of a woman less than half a block away, her own movement halting. Smiling to himself he turned himself back around and kept moving, this time with a destination in mind. If he recalled right, near here should be…

The city, massive as it was, still had pockets of nature despite its technological advancement. Greenery was kept on life support, but it was there.

A fitting place, he supposed, for the two of them to meet, formally.

"I suppose it was inevitable," he mused, mainly to himself. Standing not ten feet from him was his shadow of the last half hour, though he guessed she'd been following him for longer than that. She was a small woman, but by no means was she unappealing to the eyes.

"So it is you then." Not a question. She regarded him cautiously. There was still too much left to the unknown in regards to what he could do. And she had no idea how he would react to her in the first place. To her further surprise, he seemed as interested in her presence as she was in his.

As far as physical specimens went he was certainly prime.

"I'm sorry, I think I underestimated you."

Ivy smiled ruefully. He certainly was relaxed about all this.

This close to him though…that feeling…

The trace feeling she'd picked up off the trees, and then from the rose…to those that could sense it, it swept off him in waves. Close as she was, it made her body tingle, pleasantly energized. "You know, I really should be angry with you…for cutting in on my franchise."

Was that…was that flirty banter?

A golden brow rose in amusement. "That would only affect me if I actually cared what other people thought," he countered impishly.

The folds of her trenchcoat wriggled before vines shot out, speeding at him. But, mere inches away, their courses altered frantically, veering away drastically.

Just as she had guessed.

"Are you getting this?" the line was silent, but, then again, it was a rhetorical question. He had no doubt the old man was seeing the feed, given that he actually spent most nights in front of the computer screen.


Kneeling on a banister just outside the park, the air rippled as the only sign of Batman, cloaked. "Should I step in?"

-Not yet.- That was actually a rather quick reply. –Let's see where this goes, first.-


He didn't say it, but Bruce had his own suspicions behind Ivy's actions. Provided things worked out in such a way, Batman mightn't be needed for this. The chances were slim, but still there.

As she'd suspected, her plants were all but useless against him. They…recognized him in a way that they didn't for her. It was both disconcerting and intriguing at the same time.

But she had other, more subtle weapons at her disposal. Seeing him blink dopily, she knew that it was finally starting to take effect: her pheromones. Not to say that she hadn't wondered of their potential uselessness as well. Fortunately, it looked like she'd lucked out.

"I've never met anyone like you before. Someone with such mastery of flora." He seemed pleased by that, standing a little straighter, proud. Leaning forward, expression turning seductively cute, "So how are you doing this?" she queried, sashaying forward, closing the distance between them. The pheromones seemed to be working, so her arsenal wasn't completely empty.

A sudden crooked smile broke through. "Now that would be telling." Balking at his sudden show of resistance, she smacked him on the side of his head.

"Gua!" Blinking, he shook his head. She was pretty strong for such a small bundle of spritely nymphness.

He was a plant user, too, and she liked that. It…endeared…him to her. Not enough to save him, mind, but enough that she was willing to give him a "treat" just before he died. Kneeling next to the dazed young anti-hero, "Let me kiss it where it hurts." And before his addled mind could react, she'd tilted his chin up, leaned down, lips parted, and brought their lips together. A punishment that she might've reconsidered had his cheery, childish banter not irked her so.

After a few seconds, anticipating his going limp, lifeless, she smiled to herself in the liplock. "Time to die littl-!" His arms had snaked around her leaf covered derriere, yanking her against him. She was so stunned that all she could do was let him return the now searing kiss. Well, that, and she was actually beginning to…enjoy it?

It had been so long… So long since she'd last been able to be with someone. Going on fifty years, in fact. And here he was not dead, nor dying, and, for the moment, she didn't really mind.

She actually took a moment to ignore her frantic thoughts and just relish in his taste. It was wonderful. Animalistic, yes, but so very pure. There was nothing artificial in him. Delightful. Loosening his grip, he let her pull away. Eyes slightly glazed over, she licked her lips, savoring the taste. Her red hair shrouded her face, hiding the look of hunger that she now wore.

"I'll admit…that was new," he said in his smooth, warm voice. "I haven't had that kind of reception before."

"Mmn, you're more…different…than I thought," Ivy murmured huskily, finger drawing an invisible line down his face, appraising his features, before leaning down once more , this time to nip lightly at his lips and chin. "You're not human. Not entirely," she amended at the end after a pause.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He grinned back at her. "Though, I never would have thought that you, as a flora, would be into…this." "This" being the behavior she was exhibiting, rubbing herself against him. In a way that wasn't conducive to rational thought. "Um, let's take this away from…prying eyes." That and he needed to get them out of there before he lost control.

Deep blue eyes glowing ethereally, the pair simply…vanished from the spot.

"I can never unsee that."

-Call it a night, Terri.-

"What? What about-"

-Nothing we can do about it right now.-

He supposed that, for the moment, this was the best of scenarios to play out, leaving the end to hope.

Noticing with mild interest the change in venue, a modestly furnished apartment, momentarily leaving thoughts of passion aside, she regarded him through hungry, emerald eyes. That was a question for later. Now was the time for… "I was human, once. And Mother Nature is a woman, too…with needs." She emphasized the point by shedding her leafy leotard…literally. The leaves browned and fell away, exposing fair, pale green flesh.

She was a small woman, easily dwarfed by his six-foot-two frame. Still, a head difference in height, making her around five-four, only added to her voluptuously petite body. She was like a well-endowed nymph. Grabbing him, she pulled him to her, less gently this time, and crushed his lips in an aggressive kiss. Her body, not idle either, rocked against him. She moaned into him as certain bulge made itself known.

Ivy smirked midkiss at her influence on him, but, once more, she'd made the mistake of underestimating him. Gathering a little nature chakra, and concentrating a bit of it in his hand, he ran a finger down her spine, stroking gently. She practically melted against him, mewling joyously.

In control, for the moment, he planted light kisses on her jaw line, trailing down to her collar bone.

Groaning at the teasing, Ivy wrested back control of her senses. "I think you're a little overdressed," she insisted silkily, tugging on his battered clothes. With her eager assistance, various articles were thrown to the floor or across the room. When all that was left were his boxers, she stared at him hungrily. He was well-muscled. Not a muscle-bound freak like Superman, but a lean build. She left the boxers, fighting herself all the way, so as not to ruin the "surprise". But the point was moot as, in his current state, he was "at full attention".

Fighting her urge to simply jump him, Ivy had a wicked idea of how to get back at him for all his teasing. Sauntering back over to him, she pulled his arms around herself, only to twist around in the embrace. Smirking to herself, she ground her buttocks into his rigid mast. To her triumph, she felt him tense behind her, twitching, bodily, with every stroke. The side-effect though was that the itch, the fire growing within her, grew even faster, and hotter. Meanwhile, his hand slid from her abdomen, to her waist, and-

Her eyes shot wide. He wouldn-!

"Unnnhh!" She moaned as he cupped her groin. His rough palm caressed her aching nether region. She choked on an ecstatic cry, blinded by pleasure. Legs turning to rubber she fell, only to be supported by his magic hand, and adding to the pressure between her legs.

As she melted against him, momentarily stunned, he brought his hand up. The dazed woman followed his hand, watching through her euphoria. Looking confused, he sniffed his fingers before licking them. "Nectar?" he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and…approval?

Ivy blushed. Embarrassed, she dropped her face so he wouldn't see her burning cheeks. Only for his hand to lift her chin. Her eyes widened to see him licking the remnants of the sticky fluid from his digits. "Yum. I think I'm developing a sweet tooth," he said huskily. "Let's find out."

Ivy screamed as she exploded. Her fluids immediately licked up by a rough, eager tongue. Bucking wildly into his face, she came to a conclusion. He was trying to drive her insane. And was succeeding. When he'd pulled her to the bed, she'd felt such hopeful relief. Hopeful for what was to come, and relieved that it was finally here, meaning that all that blissful teasing was over.

But, no.

He'd proceeded to eat her out instead. Oh, the things he could do with his tongue… It was mind bogglingly wonderful, but torture at the same time.

She broke into a series of convulsions as her core spasmed from another explosive orgasm. Clutching his hair between her tiny fists, she humped his face, grinding herself into his rough, enthusiastic licking.

Pulling away from the limp nymph, he smiled hungrily down at her glazed expression. Leaning over, his face right next to hers, "I never knew vegetables were so…delicious." His murmurings sending an excited shiver through her. Green eyes growing wide, she rose up quickly to embrace him, pulling him down against her before kissing him, deeply. Moaning lustfully, "Stop teasing," her eyes spoke of starvation, before moaning again, her sexual hunger driving her into a frenzy. Frantic, her eyes turned pleading. "Take me. Take me now!"

Pale green eyes dilated drastically at the sudden sensation of being filled utterly and the ticklish bliss that accompanied it. So sensitive had she grown that the entry alone felt like it could've caused her to explode.

Ivy was draped over the bed, her body too fatigued to move. You'd think that years…and years…and years of abstinence would've dulled the sexual hunger that had licked at her soul.


Very wrong.

Initiated…they'd kept going, on through the night, bodies acting in defiance of rest.

It was hard to describe what she felt, then and there. A pair of tanned arms around her, holding her against his frame, they spooned as they slept. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was good. Very good. It was just…she'd gone without for so long, never being able to…interact, sexually, with others that she'd more or less given up.

He nuzzled the back of her neck in his sleep sending a…pleasing…shiver through her.

Could this finally be the beginning…

She'd always wanted a family of her own.

The End?

AN/ I know I don't usually write lemons, but I've had this one down for a while and just never published it. Trying to give Ivy a happy ending, seeing as how in the animated series she seemed kind of lonely.