Standing in the palm of Oracle’s hand, the tiny Nightwing had never felt so exposed or vulnerable. Four lovely faces of unimaginable scale loomed above him, their collective shadow producing the effect of a lunar eclipse. Oracle periodically reached out to touch the tiny figure with her other hand, as if assuring herself he was real. Nearby, Lady Blackhawk continued to beam at him and gave a cute, flirtatious wave. Behind these two, Oracle’s other agents, the blonde bombshell Black Canary and the masked, leather-clad Huntress, peered curiously at their shrunken comrade.

            “You’re sure it was Hugo Strange?” Oracle asked, unconsciously stroking the little man with a fingertip.

            “Positive,” said Nightwing, not so unconsciously enjoying it. He had to project his voice for the gigantic women to even hear him. “I’d know that Freudian freak anywhere.”

            “Since when does Strange shrink people?” the Huntress said. “I thought he was some kind of psychologist.”

            Lady Blackhawk giggled. “Maybe it was for irony. Shrunk by a shrink, get it?”

            Nightwing scowled up at her. “I’m glad someone finds this amusing, Zinda.”

            “Aw, hey, lighten up, squirt. I’m just teasin’.”

            “It’s not a joke, Zinda,” the Canary added. “That lens device Nightwing described sounds         like the one the Atom used to use. If Strange has duplicated that…”

            “Agreed,” said Oracle. “Bad business all around. That means we’re going to need Atom’s help reversing this. Zinda, set a course for Ivytown.”

            “Aye-aye, Skipper!” At once, she hurried off to the cockpit of the helicopter.

            Black Canary looked at Oracle in surprise. “But I thought the Atom had retired.”

“He did,” answered Oracle. “There’s a new one.”

            Nightwing nodded. “Yeah, I remember hearing about him. But he’s so new to the scene, does anyone actually know who he—?”

            “Ryan Choi,” Oracle recited. “Physics professor from Hong Kong. Inherited Ray ‘The Atom’ Palmer’s seat at Ivy University. Among other things, it seems.”

            The tiny hero slapped his forehead. “I suppose I should know better than to question the mistress of information.”

            “Damn straight, Shorty,” she said, poking him in the stomach with an index finger. Nightwing fell over backwards into the center of her palm.       

            Taking this as her cue, the Canary began to turn away. “Well, I imagine you two will want a moment alone. C’mon, Huntress, let’s give them some privacy.” The Huntress tried to protest but was pulled towards the cockpit by her blonde teammate.

            The miniscule man and the pretty redhead merely regarded each other for a few seconds. Much had been left unsaid since their last meeting though these were not the circumstances under which they had thought to say it. Nightwing finally broke the silence.

            “Look, Babs, I know things have been…weird between us…”

            “Yes, well,” Oracle said, turning away momentarily. “A broken engagement will do that.”

            “Yeah…” Nightwing sighed, staring down at the lifelines of her hand. “I just wanted to say how much I appreciate this. You and the team coming to the rescue and all.”

            Oracle’s eyes practically bored a hole in him as she stared over the top of her glasses. “Dick, you’re an inch tall. What was I going to do, leave you like this?”

            “No, I guess not.”

            “We’ll get this fixed,” she declared. “If we can’t find the Atom, I’ll get every big brain I know on speed dial—Steel, Mr. Terrific, Doc Magnus, The Chief, and, well—”

            “And?”

            Barbara frowned. “You know who. We have to tell him, Dick.”

            Nightwing’s heart sank. The thought of Batman seeing him like this was too much. Strange’s psychoanalysis still rang bitterly in his ears.

            “Not yet,” he said. “This is our case. Let’s show him we can handle it alone.”

            “Dick, you’re not still hung up on winning his approval? He can be a callous bastard sometimes but you have to know he’s proud of you. Strange has been getting to you, hasn’t he?”

            “Maybe a little,” the miniature man admitted. “What about you, Babs? Where do you and I stand?”

            She hesitated for a moment but said, finally, “I’m proud of you too, Dick.”

            “Is that all? You think maybe one day…you know, if we start over and…”

            Barbara put a finger to Nightwing’s lips (or more accurately, most of his face). “Shh. What’s done is done. We’ve had a few goes at this. Maybe we’re just not meant to be.”

            “Babs…I…”

            In answer, the auburn-haired giantess leaned closer, until her huge face was practically touching the tiny man. A warm breeze swept forward through thick red lips half as tall as he was.

            “Still…you’re awfully cute like this, you know that?”

            In an instant, the mammoth lips descended upon him, pressing the little figure into her hand with gentle yet overpowering force. For a few seconds, this sensation was all Dick Grayson knew—soft, warm, enveloping him utterly. He’d often felt like he could lose himself in Barbara’s kisses, yet never imagined it in such a literal fashion. At last the gentle pressure abated and Nightwing was lifted slightly by the suction before detaching and falling from those lips with a wet smack.

            Barbara Gordon smiled down at him almost impishly, marveling at the red lipstick streaks now marring the tiny blue and gray uniform.

            “Babs…” Nightwing finally managed. “Have I ever told you you’re an incredible kisser?”

            “Better than Starfire?” she said with a smirk.

            “Worlds.”

            “Hmm, flattery. Play your cards right and there could more where that came from, ‘Toy Wonder.’ It’s a long way to Ivytown.”

            The little man perked up at these words. “Does that mean….I mean, you and me…?”

            “I don’t know what it means. Yet,” Oracle insisted. “Seeing you like this is just doing weird things to me.”

            “Well, I am kind of irresistible.”

            “Yeah, right,” she laughed. “A regular bite-sized Casanova.” At this, she opened wide and descended on him again, engulfing his body completely in her mouth. With a quick slurp, Nightwing was drawn into the darkness. Mischief sparkled in Barbara’s eyes as she closed her lips and maneuvered the minute hero about, tossing him back and forth with her dexterous tongue.

The taste was not particularly pleasant—Kevlar and leather and nervous sweat—but Barbara was beginning to see the advantages of a man this size. Ever since her injury, Dick had tried to coddle her, protect her. It was inevitably what split them up every time. If there was one thing the vivacious young woman detested, it was being treated like she was helpless. She’d fought her way into the superhero world and earned the trust of the damn Batman. She’d conquered every challenge and she’d conquer her paralysis too one day when the time was right. Barbara Gordon was anything but a damsel in distress.

“Let’s see how Dick likes being treated like the helpless one for once,” she thought to herself, swishing her little boy-toy about like a breath mint.

Nightwing’s world was nothing but a swirl of wet flesh and midnight black. His body flipped from side to side, crashing against the porcelain surface of giant teeth. His heart was pounding with a mixture of excitement, pleasure, and fear he hadn’t felt since his days in the circus.

The voice of Black Canary took them both completely by surprise. “Hey, guys, it got awful quiet in here. You two all right?”

Suddenly startled, Barbara’s body gave a quick jerk. In a panic, she felt a miniature form slide backwards into her throat.

Nightwing could feel himself slipping through an entrance to a narrow chasm. Instinctively, he reached for his grapple. “No, I’ll hurt her,” he thought. His mind raced. “Dammit, Grayson, do something! Brace yourself, find a handhold! This is not how you go! A glorious battle, a world-threatening crisis, some lucky punk in an alley…not this!”

Crushing muscles tightened around his body, choking the air from his lungs. He slid further down. “At least I’m with you, Babs. In a sick, twisted joke of a way, at least I’m with you.” He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Earth-shaking vibrations and sounds rumbled around him and he felt himself freefalling….upward! Blinding light pierced Nightwing’s eyes and he collided with a huge purple wall. The disoriented hero blinked twice and looked up at the smiling, upside down face of the Huntress.

“Hey there, handsome. Enjoy the ride?”

The little man somehow managed to turn his head and saw the distant figures of Barbara and Black Canary, the latter with her arms wrapped around the redhead’s midsection administering the Heimlich.

“Barbara, what were you thinking?!” Canary shrieked. “You could have killed him!”

The Huntress looked down at the tiny person sprawled in her glove. “So is this why they call us the Birds of Prey?”

Exhausted, Nightwing simply passed out.

* * * *

            The sun was just rising on Ivy University when an oddly colorful trio entered the grounds. Following their leader’s directions, Black Canary, Huntress, and Lady Blackhawk made tracks for the residence building where Dr. Ryan Choi was said to be living. If Choi was indeed the new Atom, as Oracle surmised, he was their best hope for restoring the miniature Nightwing.

            “So how is he?” Canary inquired, worried for their shrunken friend.

            “Still unconscious last I checked,” replied the Huntress. “Guess maybe Barbara wore him out. Speaking of which, how’s she handling this?”

            Canary frowned. “About like you’d think. Hasn’t left his side. It might have been an accident but she blames herself for what happened.”

            “Well, almost swallowing your ex-boyfriend will do that. Funny, I never pegged Barb as the man-eating type.”

            Lady Blackhawk gave her teammate a good-natured slug in the arm. “Yeah, that’s more your department, Huntress. Say, didn’t you and Nightwing have a thing going once too?”

            The leather-clad heroine flushed slightly. “It was a one-night-stand. That’s all. We both admitted it was a mistake.”

            Lady B cocked an eyebrow at her. “All the same, I think we ought not to leave you two alone. Wouldn’t want you gobbling him up when we ain’t lookin’!”

            “Zinda, I’d never—”

            On the path ahead, a few early rising students walked briskly by. They gazed curiously at the costumed visitors, leering slightly at their skin-tight attire.

            “Ugh, costume regret,” Canary said. “I never should have gone back to the fishnets.”

            “Yeah, not the most functional look for field missions,” Huntress laughed.

            The Canary scowled back at her. “Says the girl who used to fight gangsters in a bare midriff.”

            “Heads up, girls,” Lady B called. “This here’s where Dr. Choi’s supposed to be.”

            The old-fashioned college-town brownstone was directly before them, its door hanging open suspiciously. As the heroines entered, they found the rooms in shambles, furniture overturned, and bizarre scientific equipment strewn about the floor.

            “Looks like someone got to Choi first,” Black Canary observed. “That confirms it. Strange does have the Atom’s equipment.”

            “And maybe the Atom as well,” added Huntress.

            “I thought this Atom guy’s shtick was gettin’ all tiny-like,” Lady B asked. “How do we know he ain’t still here, hidin’ out or something?”

            Simultaneously, all three women checked the bottom of their shoes.

            “Uh, let’s hope this new Atom knows what he’s doing,” Canary said ruefully. “Ray Palmer would kill me if I squashed his successor.”

            “All right, fan out, ladies,” she continued. “Be on the lookout for Dr. Choi or any clue to where Strange might have taken him. And please….watch your step.”

            As her teammates scoured the building, Lady Blackhawk was drawn to a curious object sitting on a nearby coffee table. The palm-sized plastic device appeared to be in the shape of a skull and looked out of place among the various pieces of laboratory equipment that lined the room.

            “Ooo, creepy,” she said, picking up the unusual gadget. “Gotta be a clue.” Carefully, she slipped the device into a pocket of her flight jacket.

            Elsewhere, the sinister Scarecrow chuckled as a light came on at a nearby control board. He wondered what fool had found the little “gift” he’d left behind at Dr. Choi’s apartment…