Who: Pamela Isley and Bruce Wayne. Where: Wayne Enterprises, his office. When: Late Afternoon. What: Seduction Open: No. Rating: High
Pamela Isley had great fashion sense and a naturally amazing body. Her curves could make men drool and obey her every command, and if that failed- which it seldom did, she always had the spores she could generate it the palm of her hands. Today she'd donned a tight black dress and a pair of heels all of which suited her well and caused mens heads to turn. but she only wanted one man today- and she didn't even want him- she wasnted his money; Bruce Wayne.
She'd strutted into Wayne Enterprises in the late afternoon her heels clicking on the cool tile falls- such a man made eye sore. The secretary had denied her entrance claiming that Mister Wayne was having lunch- "Well I'm his desert" She assured the ugly little blonde as she lent over the table and blew spores into the girls face. "Yes, right this way" the now Robot blonde got up and led her to the doors of Mister Wayne's office. She smirked as she pushed them open- she didn't do niceties and she didn't respect anyone who was responsible of any natural distruction. "Mister Wayne" She purred as she strutted in.
Bruce had actually been about to take a private exit out of his office. One that only Lucius had known about since he had been the one to install it. It was meant only for emergencies but he had taken to using it when he'd had his fill for Wayne Enterprises and he needed to take the "mask" of for the day- when his real work was to begin, dawning the cowl and protecting Gotham city. He stepped back from the panel of the wall coolly and looked over at the woman who had barged into his office, raising a tumbler to his lips and taking a sip of dark liquor.
"Please, no matter the concern, I'm not taking any appointments at this time. Susan, please escort her out, I won't repeat myself again. There are plenty of women who'd love your position. Lock the door behind you." he spoke calmly raising a hand of dismissal before the woman could continue. He was clearly in no mood for either of them. Morning meetings had handled that quite well. Not to mention being awake all evening on the streets all evening and taking care of a cranky, crying one-year old at home.
Pamela rolled her eyes and turned to the secretary raising two of her fingers and blowing a kiss towards her that was filled with spores. "That is all Susan" She purred, and smirked as the lady nodded and walked out of the room. "Now Mister Wayne, why must you be so rude to such a beautiful lady?" She feigned sadness; and turned shrugging her jacket off and taking a seat on the otherside of his desk letting her legs drape over the side exposing beautiful thighs and a littlle bit of black lace.
Watching the interaction between his secretary and this woman there was only one conclusion to be had. Something was wrong. Susan was not herself. She would never have allowed any old person to just barge in like that, nor did she follow direct requests or seem remotely apologetic after threatening her job. His mind wracked over the possibilities but he had to play his part; Bruce Wayne the womanizer, right? Despite the tabloids recent (and shockingly correct) speculation that he'd settled down with the mother of his son, Zatanna Zatara, he still found himself having to play this part.
"Forgive me..." he spoke, walking over to his desk, eying the black lace peeking out of her dress. "Sometimes, I forget myself." He held a hand out to her to introduce himself." At least he'd know the name of his attacker- or the alias that she would give. He inched closer to the security button underneath his desk. What more could he do as Bruce Wayne? He'd raise to much suspicion if he defended himself. "What can I do for you Miss...?" he trailed off hoping she'd fill in the blank. "Can I get you a drink?"
Pamela smirked, "Pamela, Pamela Isley" She stated honestly- as soon as she had the loot she'd wipe his mind of any trace of her and it wouldn't even matter that she'd told him her name. She took his hand and ran a manicured nail over it softly- "That's much better" She purred, the security guards didn't phase her in a moment she could have them laying on the floor begging for belly rubs if she pleased. "Well, it's more what we can do for each other" She explained, biting her hip and looking at him with, though feigned, what would appear lust and hunger. "Yes, whatever you are having. Considering you have such fine tastes" She stated, complimenting him.
Shit. Pamela "Poison Ivy" Isley. He knew the name well from Arkham's files. She was incredibly dangerous. There was no point in calling security. He'd only be putting them in danger. He'd have to play along. Bruce smirked and turned, walking over to his Scotch decanter, pouring her a glass and dropping a few cubes of ice from a bucket on the side. If he was careful he could slip a sedative into it.
"It's not a very feminine drink, Ms.Isley." he spoke, as he walked over to her, sitting on he side of his desk. He handed it to her with a flirtatious smile. "But what can we do for each other?" he asked turning his head to the side and looking her up and down. "Now that you've peaked my interest so."
She brought her lips to the glass and sensed that something may be afoot. She set it down. "We could do a lot for each other Mister Wayne" She stated, "In and outside the bedroom" She stated with a seductive smile. "You know that interest of yours needs to be sated and I'm willing to do so."
He watched as she put he glass to the side. Ivy was highly intelligent. This was going to be a difficult task yet a battle of wits and skill. He couldn't let her get too close so he held onto his drink. He had one more sedative on him. This one was in syringe form. He'd have to inject her with it. Barbaric, yet effective. It was sure to piss her off but hopefully by the time she'd catch him with it, it would be too late. Slowly, carefully and as casually as possibly he slid it out of his inner sleeve in preparation. He wasn't worried about what security or the police department had to say, it wouldn't be the first time Gotham's playboy had to pay them off and they wouldn't ask too many questions when they saw a passed out woman in a CEO's office in an already corrupt city would they?
"I'd love for you to explain that to me in dire detail." he spoke in a smooth voice, taking another sip from his drink, leaning slightly closer.
She lent forward, close to him- smirking. "Well it could all start with a kiss and we'll see where it goes" She stated with a flirtacious smile. "because we both know this little daddy thing you have going is boring for you."
Bruce raised his eyebrows. "You tease..." he cooed, shaking his head. "Haven't you heard, I've been taken off the market?" he asked, taunting right back. "But something tells me that kiss would cost me more than my fiance." he uncapped the syringe... just a little bit closer...
"We both know that you, Bruce Wayne, are not a one woman man" She stated, "And it could be our little secret- she wouldn't even have to know."
"What could you loose? You already have a bad reputation in the woman department. I'd be doing you a favour and boosting your reputation ten fold. What do you say Mister Wayne?" She asked, looking over his shoulder at the fern in the corner- it was coming to life rapidly growing. She smiled at him- "So how about it?"
"I might need to test the merchandise..." Bruce smirked, ebbing closer still, the tip of the needle finally peeked out of his pocket, shining in the light of his office as he reared back, preparing to lunge at her as his lips parted and he leaned toward her. But just as he'd been about to plunge the syringe into her neck, something grabbed him from behind violently and ensnared him, winding it's way tightly around his body.
At first, Bruce made a good effort at to fight the vines as they traveled around his limbs, tying him down to his chair, attaching his legs and arms to those of his wooden chair. He winced as thorns embedded themselves into his skin, tearing his suit and sinking their toxins into his bloodstream. He fought that too but there was only so much of the drug his body could take no matter how much of an immunity he had built up. The only hope of salvation he had was the syringe now rolling across the floor toward Ivy's high heels.
She stood, crushing the syringe under her heeled foot. "Now, now Mister Wayne- you didn't have to drug me, I was going to willingly sleep with such a handsome man. But now, " She smirked, "It's time for a midnight kiss" She purred, having strode around the desk and lent down in front of him. The drug in his system would have him obeying her every command, to what extent she did not know.
And so went his only hope- crushed under the powerful high-heeled shoe of Pamela Isley. It was almost ironic how he felt his body giving in to her; his head up turned, lips parted almost begging for her kiss. He even leaned in as she sat upon his lap, prepared to meet her lips with his own. But at the last second his better judgement turned his face away and he groaned, fighting her toxin, feeling the vines pumping the poison into his blood stream harder than before- as if they knew he was not yet completely under her control. His breathing became labored and he clenched his teeth as he stared at the floor... anything to avoid her eyes...
"What do you want, Ivy?" he asked, trying to maintain his constitution as Bruce Wayne. "Money? It's yours. Name your price!"