Splosh. Splish. Squeak!

'Oh nutterbutters, sorry Sirius!'

Her new galoshes were holding up well, weren't they? They'd hardly tarnished or discoloured at all. The belt of her mackintosh swung like a pendulum inches above the scummy water as her flashlight roamed the cavern.

She didn't know how often Otis had led her through here, it was still a maze to her. She wouldn't be surprised if, one day, she took a wrong turning and ended up lost for hours in the sewer system.

She was forced to duck at the waist to avoid an unpleasant collision with a low ceiling. The tip of the umbrella scraped alarmingly on the brick.

Her mother used to say that having an umbrella open indoors was inviting trouble, but Daisy found it best to have one on hand when going the long way to The Rats Nest. You did not want what dripped off the ceiling in your hair.

Splish. Splosh. Splash.

Date night. Date nights were funny things. It wasn't that she didn't like going out with Otis, it was the constant, very real risk that someone would see him without his mask on and still recognise The Ratcatcher, so generally, they stayed in or met at The Iceberg.

She paused in her musings and glanced at the new chamber she found herself in. It had opened up as only the sewers knew how to do, so high that the ceiling was darkness, which was useless to her as a means of identifying her location. She glanced around at the damp walls. Something was different.

Oh curses, she'd gotten lost.

With a groan, she set about going back the way she came, but found it blocked.

By something huge, scaly and …wearing tattered pants?

'Well, hello there.' He breathed and the vile smell of rotting meat washed over her. She took a step back in alarm, and then another. The giant lizard seemed to enjoy her indications of terror. 'And who are you?'

It shouldn't be possible to smile with so many sharp and stained teeth; it shouldn't be possible to be over seven foot tall. It shouldn't be humanly possible and she was pants-wettingly scared.

Seeing Batman, interviewing Joker, interrogating Scarecrow they all paled in comparison to the fear and all around dread of seeing Killer Croc in his own environment.

'D-daisy?' She stuttered in the face of the offensively long fangs. He took in a huge breath, as though he couldn't get enough of her scent.

'You smell more like roast chicken.' He growled.

He was staring at her and at the thought of chicken, a long, thin tongue poked out and ran a slimy trail across his teeth. She shuddered involuntarily and took a step back.

'Hey bitch, where do you think you're going?' He snarled.

'I…I'm looking for Ratcatcher?' She spluttered. Suddenly the sewers didn't seem so jolly and safe.

'Well that's too bad. I've been looking for supper.' A clawed paw bit into a haplessly fallen skull and crushed it with discerning ease. Just watching it made Daisy wince.

'Please…Please don't…I'm a friend of Otis','

'You ain't one of mine,' He breathed and the stink of rotten meat washed over her. 'But by the end of this, we'll be real close.' That wasn't a comfort to her. It scared her more. As he bent over to give her another disgusting bath in his breath she tripped and fell into the dirty water.

She scuttled back, not caring how soaked she was becoming. Despite the frantic backpedalling, Croc was following her back down the tunnel. The umbrella was abandoned to the water to float along in their wake.

She was almost, almost back in neutral territory when he grabbed her by the leg and easily dragged her back towards him with a dark rasping laugh. 'Don't think you're going anywhere bi-'

'Waylon.'

She turned to look behind her and was almost relieved to see the stocky outline in the dim lights. 'Otis,' She breathed.

He walked towards them and passed a lamp in the process, his face was set in stony fury.

'Drumstick,' The crocodile man breathed and yanked on her leg some more, She squealed and struggled back. Her galosh parted with a wet shlup. 'This yours?'

'Yes. She is.'

Croc growled. 'She was in my hunting grounds, Flannigan.'

'Daisy doesn't know a lot of the sewers, Waylon. It was an easy mistake, I'm sure she tried to tell you.' He snapped.

It was almost scripted, Croc seemed wary of inciting Otis' rage. 'There was something like that,' He snorted angrily. She took the opportunity to try and scuttle towards Otis but Croc latched onto her leg, it felt like it was being crushed.

'That hurts!' She screamed which shocked Otis into moving further, but he paused at the hiss that wormed its way from the fearsome teeth.

'Well, well. Flannigan cares about this tidbit don't you?'

'Put her down, Croc.' He snapped. Sounds were bouncing from arched wall to arched wall, of splashing and squealing. An army, a *tide* of rats were scurrying towards them from every vent and branch. They were climbing the walls, wading the water and even climbing over themselves in their haste to obey an unspoken command. 'Do you want a fight? I'm sure I could sate that appetite of yours.'

Croc growled. 'Can you do that before I break your pretty bitch's neck, drumstick?' That alarmed her immensely. She began a frantic effort to get free of him which only served to cut into her leg. Blood trickled into the water as Croc's pupils dilated. 'Such a delicious smell,' He growled.

'Daisy, stop struggling,' Otis commanded her.

'But he-' She wailed in fear and screamed when he leaned down and began to sniff at the blood. 'Make him stop Odie!'

He took a step forward in anger and a thousand rats hissed in warning. The noise rolled around the confined space.

'Don't make me come and get her Waylon. You remember the last time, when I let you slink off to lick your wounds? This time I won't.' Otis warned him. 'However many it will take to kill you, I would. So hand her over.'

He stopped toying with her and snarled. 'You were lucky last time, Flannigan! Lost a lot of your precious rats!'

'Rats can be replaced, she can't. Kill her Waylon and there won't be a place in the sewers you can hide,' He promised dangerously.

She'd have felt flattered if her leg wasn't in so much pain, if she weren't in danger of being killed and/or eaten. If she weren't terrified to her little pink galoshes – or just galosh now, the other seemed to have sunk.

There was a pregnant pause as Croc chewed over his choices. 'It's not worth it, have her then, just get out of my sight before I change my mind and add Drumsticks to the menu.'

She scrabbled through the filthy water and up to Otis with some relief. 'Can you stand?' He asked far more gently than he had since he'd arrived on the scene.

She clawed her way up him into a standing position and tested her strength. 'Ye-' Her ankle gave way. 'N-no.'

He picked her up bridal style, putting the glistening muscles to work. He threw one last disgusted look at Croc before he turned and walked off with her.

'How many times?' He grunted as they maneuvered back onto the correct path.

'I'm sorry,' She whispered into his neck.

'He could have eaten you! You would have been dead, Daisy! It's a good thing Sirius noticed you were in the wrong tunnels,' He raged on quietly at her subdued form. A sob wracked her throat at his words, followed by another. 'Oh Daisy, I didn't mean- don't- please don't-'

'I thought I was going to die!' She sobbed gummy tears into his shirt.

'You're alright, I found you. You're safe.' He pushed into the hideout and laid her tear-streaked form down on the couch. Her leg was bleeding all over it, but he hardly cared.

She hissed as he gently pried pieces of material from the open wound. 'Is it bad?' She begged.

'It's fixable,' He replied and stood to find his extensive first aid kit. Once the bleeding had been stemmed, her ankle was wrapped and two heavy painkillers had been administered, he sat down and drew her in.

'Don't ever stray off the beaten path again,' He admonished her.

'Hmm 'Kay.'

'I'm serious Daisy. I'm even willing to open up talks with Croc if it keeps you safe!'

'Hmmm 'Kay.'

'Daisy?' He turned to look at her but she seemed to be drifting into sleep. Perhaps those painkillers had been too strong. With an uneasy chuckle he found the blanket he usually kept under the couch and wrapped it around them.

'They can be fixed,' he said to the sleeping woman in his lap. 'You can't be.'

A/N: Meet my newest obsession. One Otis Flannigan and Daisy Newport. If you know what's good for you, you won't sing a verse of A Bicycle Made For Two. Daisy is of course, my newest character. Auburn, blue eyed, Curious, inquisitive and with a burning grudge for Vicki Vale. We'll see more of that when she's introduced properly so consider this to be a preview of sorts.

I have a real problem with making Croc refer to everyone as some kind of dish.