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Author's Chapter Notes:
All characters are copyright of DC Comics. I derive no monetary gain from their use.

Robin was not having a very good night. An evening that begins with an adversary breaking into one’s house and reducing said person to the size of a grasshopper is sure to rate poorly in anyone’s book. But being manhandled, shown off like an oddity, and finally stuffed into a small, confined space like a discarded tissue was not making the situation much better.

 

            When the police band made its report, Batgirl had instantly leapt into action, certain that their rapidly shrinking mentor would need her help. In all the excitement, she had quite forgotten the tiny teen held awkwardly in her hand as she charged for the vehicle bay. The Boy Wonder had clung tightly to her fingers as Cassandra pulled her mask into place and jumped aboard the closest “Bat-Cycle.” He’d shouted to her in his embarrassingly squeaky voice and this alone saved him as those fingers curled about the handlebars of the motorcycle, nearly crushing the life from him. With no time to double back and leave him in Alfred’s care, Batgirl quickly shoved her little partner into a pouch on her belt.

 

            It was here that Robin spent the duration of their journey, lost amid a stash of batarangs, smoke capsules, rope, and other equipment that dwarfed his tiny form. Thankfully, the leather pouch helped to muffle the thunderous roar of the cycle.

 

            Though Robin’s world was nothing but darkness, Batgirl could see the situation all too clearly. Within minutes, the suped-up motorcycle had delivered her to the Horticultural Society. Slinking in through a window and keeping to the shadows, she observed the sight of Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn playing with their latest “toy.” Desperately, she waited for the right moment to steal him away.

 

            “Boingy, boingy, boingy!” Harley laughed as she dangled the miniature Batman by his cape like a yo-yo. “Look, Red! He’s still getting smaller! He’s down to about three inches! This is so neat!”

 

The shrunken crimefighter was positively livid and flung another ineffectual volley of batarangs at the giantess.

 

            “Ow! Hey, that’s not very nice, Mr. Bat! Tell Auntie Harley you’re sorry.”

 

            “Still being a disobedient little man, is he?” Ivy asked. “Give him here, Harl. I think I can change his tune.”

 

            The clown-girl hugged the little Batman to her bosom protectively, nearly smothering him. “You’re not gonna hurt him, are ya?”

 

            Ivy sighed wearily. “No, Harley. I’m not going to hurt him. I just want to give him…a kiss.”

 

            The curvy jester’s face lit up excitedly and she handed him over to her partner-in-crime. “Okie-dokies. Now, little guy, give your Auntie Ivy a big, sloppy, wet kiss!”

 

            Batman was unceremoniously dropped into Poison Ivy’s waiting palm, which closed tightly around him in a vise-like grip. The colossal redhead brought the tiny man closer to her vast, beautiful face, her blood-red lips curling into a wicked smile. Ivy slowly ran her tongue along her upper lip unconsciously and squeezed her prisoner tighter, bruising a few ribs. Batman grunted in pain and continued to struggle futilely.

 

            “Don’t fight it, little one,” she told him huskily. “You know no man can resist me.”

 

Ivy pressed her full, cushiony lips against the diminutive hero’s face, covering it completely. Batman’s struggles intensified then immediately ceased as the villainess’ mind-altering pheromones stripped him of his will. When she pulled her hand away, the tiny crimefighter was as docile as a lobotomy patient. A blank stare emerged from his mask and cowl and infinitesimal drops of drool slid down his face.

 

            “There now, pet,” Ivy whispered. “That’s much better.”

 

            Batgirl could endure this no more. Casting caution to the wind, the heroine jumped into the fray, ready to decimate the two criminals and free her mentor. With movements swifter than the eye could see, the gifted martial artist struck Harley with a skillful maneuver. A judo chop to the arm and a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks sent the clown-girl sprawling. She next turned to face Poison Ivy.

 

            “Not so fast, young lady,” the sexy ecoterrorist said. Batgirl froze. Just ahead, Poison Ivy was dangling the three-inch Batman tauntingly above her open mouth. The brainwashed Dark Knight hung limply over this fearsome chasm, helpless against the deadly woman’s charms.

 

            “Take another step and Daddy-Bat goes down the hatch.” Ivy extended her tongue and lapped at the little hero in flitting bursts, causing him to swing precariously back and forth on the end of his cape. “Think I can get him down in one gulp? I’d be willing to find out. How about you?”

 

            Ivy lowered the minute figure into her mouth and let him land with a plop on the center of her tongue. With her lips still parted, she pushed his body back and forth like a flaccid rag doll, mocking Batgirl with a show of power. Slowly, she began to tilt her head back.

 

            “Okay!” Batgirl cried. “You win! Don’t hurt him.”

 

            With a look of satisfaction, Ivy pushed Batman into her cheek until he was wedged between a wall of soft, wet flesh and perfect teeth. “There’s a good girl,” she mumbled with a little effort. “Now help my friend back up or I bite down. Hard.”

 

            Batgirl turned and grudgingly offered the dazed Harley Quinn a hand. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and turned to see a thin, wooden barb of some sort embedded there. Behind her, Poison Ivy stood with arm extended, having just fired a small crossbow device mounted on her wrist.

 

            “A little extra insurance,” she muttered through a mouthful of hostage. As poison seeped into Batgirl’s veins and strength drained from her body, Harley uneasily climbed to her feet and staggered to Ivy’s side.

 

            “Whew,” she said. “Kid packs a wallop. Anyone get the license number on that boot? Say, where’s Batsy?”

 

            Ivy opened wide like a patient in a dentist’s office to show her the helpless little man within. “Ahhhh…”

 

            “Red, no! Don’t eat him! You promised!”

 

            Poison Ivy rolled her eyes and let out another exasperated sigh. Reaching into her mouth with two fingers, she removed the dampened Dark Knight. “You are such a child, Harley.” She carefully lowered the petite crimefighter down into her ample cleavage. Batman’s tiny form was swallowed up completely by this cavern of flesh.

 

            “Come on. Grab the seedlings and let’s get out of here.”

 

            The two villainesses walked casually past the writhing shape of Batgirl, curled into fetal position by the painful poison. Picking up the items they’d come for and ignoring the captive club members still bound by constricting vines, they exited into the night.

 

            Tears were forming beneath Batgirl’s mask. She’d failed. Batman was in the clutches of two murderous psychotics who could easily stomp out his life or make a meal of him without a second thought. Trained by some of the world’s greatest martial artists, Cassandra had always relied on physical action. Strategy was not her strong suit, particularly when the slightest movement of a throat muscle could have ended her mentor’s life.

 

            “Fight, Cass,” she told herself. “Fight the pain. No. Count—what’s the word?—counteract it! Batman gave you, um, he…what did he call them? Anti…anti-toxins! Yes! Find the anti-toxin!”

 

            Frantically, Batgirl reached for her utility belt, ignoring the pain that shot up her arm with every movement. She opened the flap of the nearest pouch and began fumbling around for the antidote to Ivy’s poison.

 

            Light burst into Robin’s world, followed directly by huge gray tree trunks that assaulted him and every object within the pouch. He tried to dodge but had nowhere to go within the cramped confines. The huge grasping fingers closed around his midsection, squeezing him tightly and yanking him into the open air.

 

            Batgirl looked at the object she’d removed from her belt. Her vision was clouding and her body was in agony. This didn’t appear to be an anti-toxin vial. In fact, it looked like it was squirming in her hand like a little bug.

 

            “R-Robin…” she croaked.

 

            “Batgirl?” he called. “Cass, what happened?”

 

            Cassandra’s grip had loosened slightly and she could barely lift her head. The poison was acting too fast. “F-find…anti-toxin…” Her hand fell limply to the floor with a slap, landing almost an arm’s length away. The collision rattled every bone in Robin’s body. Pulling himself together, he knew instantly what he had to do. Springing to his feet, Robin scurried up the length of Batgirl’s arm and onto her shoulder. With a slight blush, he darted through the narrow valley of Cass’ modest bust (a fairly impressive set of hills from Robin’s perspective nonetheless) and over the wide plane of her belly.

 

The ground slowly rose and fell beneath Robin’s feet, threatening to upset his balance. Her breathing was labored and getting worse by the second. At last, he reached her waist and dove headfirst back into the open pouch, burrowing about in an attempt to find the antidote. Finally, he located the desired object.

 

The small syringe was nonetheless as tall as he was and dragging it from the leather alcove proved challenging. Pulling the shot along behind him, he jumped from the edge of Batgirl’s stomach and onto her other arm. With great effort, Robin hoisted the syringe above his head and jabbed it down into her like a spear.

 

At first, he feared he had acted too late. Batgirl lay motionless, her huge body stretched across the floor like a leather-colored desert. No movement came from that distant chest and Robin began to despair. Suddenly, the giant girl sat bolt upright, gasping for air and sending the Boy Wonder hurtling from his perch. He landed in a heap on her lap as Batgirl at last sat up.

 

The young woman quickly fished around for him, grasping the tiny teen as he slid down the incline of her thigh. She lifted him to her face and rolled up the lower quarter of her mask to give her miniature savior a quick kiss.

 

“Thank you, Tim.”

 

“N-no problem, Cassie,” he said, a bit flustered. “You all right?”

 

“Fine now.”

 

“Great. So…where’s Batman?”

 

Batgirl lowered her head. “Harley and Ivy have him.”

 

“Damn. What do we do now?”

 

The two sidekicks stared at one another with uncertainty.

 

* * * *

 

Meanwhile, in Ivytown, the Birds of Prey had at last given up the search. No one on the campus or in the town itself had seen Dr. Ryan Choi—or the Atom—all day. With heavy hearts, they filed back onto their helicopter and took stock.

 

“Things look grim, ladies,” Oracle said. The tiny Nightwing was still sitting comfortably on her shoulder. “Nightwing, Robin, and Batman are now miniaturized. The Atom is nowhere in sight. Hugo Strange remains at large. Er, no pun intended.” She glanced at her little passenger. “Sorry, Dick.”

 

Nightwing sighed. “Everyone looks large on this caper.”

 

“You want I should fly this old girl over to Gotham?” Lady Blackhawk asked. “Maybe round up the other tinies?”

 

“Wouldn’t do much good,” Oracle answered. “Batman’s run off half-cocked and has probably gotten himself into a world of trouble. It’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. A very big, very polluted, crime-infested haystack.”

 

“Batgirl’s searching for Batman as we speak,” she continued. “It’s up to her now unless he tries to make contact. Our best bet is to concentrate on finding a cure. I’m going to see if I can reach Mr. Terrific or Steel—someone who stands a chance of figuring out how the Atom’s tech works.”

 

“Still can’t believe Strange didn’t leave so much as a clue,” Black Canary said in annoyance. “We’re better than this. We ought to be able to figure out where he took Choi.”

 

Remembrance dawned in Lady Blackhawk’s eyes. “Wait, I did find something earlier!” She reached into her jacket pocket and removed the small plastic skull. “This mean anything to you or do you think Dr. Choi was just gettin’ ready for Halloween?”

 

Oracle studied the bizarre object for a moment and gasped. “Zinda, get rid of it! Quick!”

 

The empty eye sockets of the skull lit up an eerie green. Far away in his hidden lair, the Scarecrow smiled as the women’s pretty faces appeared on a view screen before him.

 

“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” he chortled. “I thought that bubble-headed bimbo would never go back to the chopper. It will be so much sweeter to kill four ‘birds’ with one stone. Now then, ladies, let’s see what you…fear.” With a mad cackle, he pressed a button on the control panel.

 

Jets of hallucinogenic gas began to emerge from the skull, filling the inner chamber of the helicopter. The heroines began to cough uncontrollably and tried to cover their faces but it was too late. The Scarecrow’s gas went straight to their heads and the visions began to appear.

 

Oracle cringed as the leering face of the Joker manifested in thin air, his ghoulish white hands clutching a loaded gun. Black Canary watched her lover, Green Arrow, so recently returned from apparent death, gradually decompose before her eyes. The Huntress clawed at herself as thousands of spiders, scorpions, and rats swarmed over her body. And Lady Blackhawk could only scream as she felt her plane going down in flames for the last time.

 Thrown from Oracle’s shoulder by a sudden jerk, Nightwing fired a grapple at the back of her chair and gracefully descended to the floor. At his small size, he was below the height of the spreading gas and thus unaffected. But as the ground rumbled violently, he found himself faced with the prospect of several towering giantesses staggering around in blind panic. He scurried about as the massive feet crashed down on all sides.
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