Sarah felt and heard, rather than saw, the woman approach. The lids of her eyes were just too heavy, she knew that they could open but she couldn't do it herself somehow. It didn't matter, because the hand on her was soft, feminine. That was good, she thought; if she was going to be kidnapped, then by a woman was better. The woman in question spoke, and spoke, and Sarah<i> tried</i>to make sense of it all, but she wasn't entirely sure.  "Hit who you tell me to," she said, but it came out in a slurred almost-incomprehensible speech pattern. She had to be good, to behave and do as she was told? That …  Sarah frowned and tried to move, but couldn't. That wasn't surprising, she thought, in a moment of pseudo-clarity, if she couldn't even lift her eye lids, then how could she ever manage to move a whole<i> arm?</i>That was a silly idea, she decided, and giggled.<br/><br/>Had her parents been here - or even her paediatrician - they'd have been able to tell of Sarah's low tolerance to drugs. Ever since she was a child, it had been so.<br/><br/>Yet, those heavy-lidded eyes shot open as Sarah felt a hard, demanding mouth on hers. The feeling of the lips on hers, of the hand on her buttock, those woke her and her pupils dilated in response. As the light increased in the room, and she had a strange sensation of movement, Sarah realised that she couldn't move because she was tied up, legs and arms spread wide apart. The woman was wearing purple, and she remembered her Governess telling her a poem about a woman who, when she was old, would wear purple.  Chemical raced through her system and reality and memory blurred.<br/><br/>With an almost amused - although to anyone watching, very obviously drugged  - expression, Sarah's slurred speech sounded incredulous. "That man's dressed like Batman!"<br/><br/>Regina smiled, making her way over to the Bat. "He is! Oh, I think she might be my favourite. What do you think?" That last she whispered as she leaned forward, the heat of her breath on his skin. "Not like you," one finger trailed down his jaw, razor-sharp nail leaving a small line of blood on flesh. "You know, I've been reading about bats. Such fascinating little creatures," Regina walked over to the wall, where hung a number of implements designed for torture. She raised the hand which she had just used to draw blood from Gotham's Hero and she slowly licked it.  "What I liked the most is that there are so many types. Each one different. What flexibility."<br/><br/>Having chosen a small, hand-held object, she turned back to Batman and smiled, hungrily. "I'm going to make you forget your name, pet."<br/><br/>Then, she spoke, just a little louder. "Sarah. I want you to choose. Left," she lifted her left hand in such a way that Batman could see it clearly, but Sarah could not. There was a taser in her left hand. Then, she raised the skinning knife in her other hand, "or right, dear?"<br/><br/>The woman restrained opposite him mumbled a slurred word which, whilst difficult to understand was clear enough.  Regina put the knife down with a rather regretful sigh. "Very well. We'll do it in that order then." Gesturing to someone outside of Batman's view, the slow dripping of water began over him. Regina moved in and suddenly, without warning, punched him across the jaw. There was a lot for the Dark Knight to learn in that punch -  she was wickedly strong, and she had martial training. The force of the blow was enough to loosen a tooth or two. "I wanted the knife," she said and pressed the taser against the flesh on his wrist where just an inch showed, through an open seam. As the electricity lit up every nerve he had in exquisite pain, Regina smiled benevolently.