Pairings: Scarecrow/Riddler, Scarecrow/Mad Hatter (mentions of Batman/Joker and Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn)
Appearance and backstory-wise, mainly Batman: the Animated Series for Jervis and Edward, but Year One for Jonathan with bits from others here and there for all of them.
Important notes for reading: Parts of Jervis' speech in bold are quotes from the works of the great Lewis Carroll. I don't own any of the Batman characters, setting etc. If I did, there would be more of Batman: the Animated Series on TV and less of the rubbish that is. All riddles however, regardless of how good or bad you think they are, I do own because I created them all.
Author prattle that you don't have to read: Dedicated to Higgystar, even though she gave me no particular prompt for this. Her work is so amazing and this story barely begins to cover all of the rewarding she deserves. How can you like Batman rogue fanfiction and not read her stories? They're amazing!
This story has some pretty deep character analysis at points, psychologically. This is just my interpretation of them, feel free to disagree. My knowledge of Psychology is quite basic so sorry for any mistakes. I hope it is all understandable and not boringly over-detailed. Since it focuses more on their social lives outside of crime, it's a bit fluffier than some might like but I tried to keep them gritty and in character. Where I have added any personal headcanon, I tried to make it grounded somewhere in actual canon like Jonathan's slight interest in goth subculture (He likes gothic literature and has black nails in the Year One comic)
As much as I equally love to ship Jonathan with Jervis or Edward, I guess this story is a (long) explanation of why I think the latter is the more fitting relationship for him.
Cupid Wears a Top Hat, You Know?
Edward Nygma arrived first at the designated meeting spot. It was a disgustingly dilapidated place that his hygienic, perfectionist nature couldn't stand one bit. It was only for a few minutes though, until the other two turned up.
With a petulant sigh, The Riddler leant against a beam of the half-built, top floor of this abandoned construction site before flinching away to think of all the grime that might get smeared onto his nice waistcoat if he let any part of him touch his surroundings. It wasn't as if he was dressed particularly smartly; tonight wasn't a night for crime, just a social night out. So he'd ended up in a shirt, tie, jeans and waistcoat. But they were still very high-quality, stylish clothes, too good for this place. The waistcoat was one of his favourites, new, black with ornate green patterns swirled upon it.
Edward loved it so much that he was proudly admiring it in a puddle of Lord-know-what liquid when Jonathan Crane arrived.
"...You'll become so entranced with your own image that you'll stay there and die." Such lovely greetings from the God of Fear. "Not that I care."
Edward turned and glared. "I am not narcissistic; I merely have reasonable self-esteem." Once over the rude interruption, the ginger's smug superiority returned and he casually gestured to the other felon now present. "All I see when I look at your anorexic skeleton of a figure is a man desperately crying out for saviour from his pit of self-loathing."
Through his thin-rimmed glasses, Jonathan gave a look that really didn't care.
He wasn't anorexic; Edward wasn't narcissistic. It wasn't hard to work out. The two of them were both simply so maladjusted to normal social interaction that they couldn't think how to begin a conversation between them without slinging insults. It was like some kind of ritual, to see if they were still worthy of each other's time.
"Jervis isn't here yet?" Jonathan asked functionally.
Edward scoffed. "I know he's short but if you couldn't see him, you'd hear him. He never shuts up. Therefore, he most obviously isn't here." At least the one all this condescending scorn was directed at was heartless enough not to care in the slightest. Perhaps that was why they could actually function together for more than ten minutes without the punch in the face every other rogue delivered to The Riddler. "He's later than you were. What more do you expect of the little dreamer than to delay everything with his silly fantasising?"
"Firstly, I wasn't late. You were early-"
"I was what is called punctual Jona-"
"and secondly," Jonathan knew the other man hated being spoken over and ignored more than the contents of this verbal correction, "Jervis was never late once with anything during our undertaking together. Frankly, he worked faster than either of us and ended up doing most of the chores."
That fact explained why two of Gotham's smartest minds were here, meeting up in this desolate shell of a building, a fortnight after one of the worst incidents of roguery Gotham had seen in years. The police had been out everywhere the past nights until now; vengeance for the half of the force who had been fear-gassed and the other half who had been mind-controlled by chips inserted into their hats whilst The Riddler had the entire police department in chaos with his hacking of their system.
After that, a wild-goose chase of riddles all over the city for Batman and the half yet to be fear-gassed. Of course Edward had set riddles that Batman solved, and which led directly to him, but at a mention of the escaped inmates of Arkham, led by Killer Croc, all under the Mad Hatter's mind control and armed with Scarecrow's fear-gas the Dark Knight had dropped The Riddler, well left him in a rather easy to escape from Batmobile, to go and put a stop to that. It was Edward who had hacked into Arkham's security beforehand to get his two partners in. Scarecrow had dealt with most of the guards though Jervis really was rather handy with that poleaxe of his when it came down to hand-to-hand combat. It had surprised Edward that Killer Croc had a mind to control but since a lot of Jervis' work had been on controlling animals too, it wasn't hard to create something in between human and animal. All that had been for numerous heists of banks, shopping malls, jewellery stores and a city brought to its knees for the night all for a pay-off of a few billion between them.
It had been months in the planning; they had sunk nearly all they had before into the scheme. But it had paid off! The two psychologically-specialised rogues had never experienced wealth like this before. Jervis had dealt in millions but to Jonathan it was the greatest shock; he was used to living practically hand-to-mouth for food and chemicals. If any of them wanted to retire from crime, but why would they when they could be this successful?, now was a great time to do it. And all this begged just one question:
Why the hell had they never worked together before?
There had been some fighting during the planning, mainly between Jervis and Edward whose smug, self-absorbed and generally childish personalities clashed horribly at certain moments. Jonathan had weathered it all with a heartless I-don't-care-about-either-of-you-only-the-job attitude to living together. After the second brawl he had intervened and they'd been better behaved children from that point forward.
They'd all gone their separate ways at the end, for the meantime at least, with equal rewards in terms of money since they knew getting into a fight over who had done the most work was a bad idea. But since Jervis had done the majority of cooking and cleaning for them during their stay together in a little get-away Edward owned out of the city, he'd been granted something extra.
And he had chosen for them all to meet up this one night for some kind of evening out on the town to celebrate.
That was why these two now stood here, in casual clothes, feeling like idiots waiting for him.
"...You don't actually look bad a T-shirt, you know?" Edward observed humourously, just because he hated there to be silence which could be filled with his vocalised thoughts.
Jonathan made no reply, simply checked the time on his phone. He had grabbed any clothes, well with some thought because otherwise the effeminate Puzzle King would mock, and had ended up in a slim, black T-shirt, chequered overshirt and fashionably tattered jeans. He supposed that maybe it looked good on his slender figure, if you were into that kind of look...
It would be harder to be ignored if he went and invaded the Scarecrow's personal space so Edward did. "Any message from our little English gentleman?"
"No." Jonathan stowed his phone before it could be properly spied upon. "He's probably pretending his watch is probably two days wrong..." Looking around, there was no distinctive blonde or top hat to be seen.
That was one thing The Riddler had found a constant peculiarity during these past few months; he knew the Alice stories as well, his mind had memorised them from the times Jervis couldn't be kept from quoting. But Jonathan actually made reference to them willingly, quoted them himself even at times. They weren't his kind of book in the slightest so therefore he must read them because of Jervis. Why him though? Edward wasn't sure he wanted to let his mind work out the answer to that...
"...What?" Jonathan didn't much appreciate being stared at whilst the ginger mused on that strange curiosity.
"Nothing, just..." His quick mind seized upon something. It was very reliable to always deduce of something of interest to say, "wondering why you're wearing eyeliner." Edward's face cracked into the most obnoxious grin. It had a lot of practice.
The God of Fear looked back to his phone, scowling at his reflection. "...I'm not. You need your eyes checked."
"Oh and I suppose the fresh coat of black nail varnish is my imagination too." The doctor mentally berated himself for drawing attention to his hands with the phone.
"...What about it?" Jonathan went with just being plain rude about it.
"Why?" The Riddler queried triumphantly like a purring cat.
Seizing upon the opportunity, "You can't work this one out for yourself Edward?" he turned on the offensive.
"Oh, perhaps because you're secretly rather into the idea of being a goth since they command quite some fear with the way they dress and act? The love of Gothic literature and horror? Or perhaps you simply identify well with their I'm-misunderstood-and-therefore-I-hate-the-world teenage angst?"
The obvious sound of Jonathan's teeth gritting together betrayed him. He really scowled now and stalked away from Edward, tapping furiously at his phone to show that he was deliberately ignoring the genius.
The Riddler waited complacently. He could have gone on teasing but Scarecrow's fingers had been flexing for a syringe of fear-toxin to empty into him.
"...Jervis told me to dress nicely." Jonathan eventually admitted after he was done texting.
Strange request. Edward hadn't received one but maybe even the Mad Hatter had enough sense to know he always dressed nicely no matter what the occasion. "So you decided to come as a reject from My Chemical Romance?"
To that, the accused-goth scoffed and quickly scowled. Luckily, the saving grace of a reply from Jervis came at that moment.
...
"Well?" Edward asked, not able to see the phone from over there.
It didn't seem to be a pleasing reply whatever it was. Jonathan was frowning and even grumbled a little as he texted a sharp, short reply back. Then he stalked off across the half-built room and crouched down beside some bared beams.
"He's not coming." Edward guessed astutely.
He didn't get a reply from the one crouched down looking like a spider with his long, gangly legs bent up around him. "...Trust him to put it at munchkin-height..." Jonathan could be heard to mutter as he stood back up with a small, folded note in hand.
And there was another interesting peculiarity. The Scarecrow was the only one who could get away with calling Jervis Munchkin, some kind of term of affection between them, and not get a neck full of poleaxe for it. But the titchy little Tetch hated any reference to his slight, proportionate dwarfism. And the God of Fear was hardly the kind for pet names. Even Edward didn't get a pet name from him...
But right now, the man watching from across the room took more interest in the note that had just been found.
"Well what is it?" Edward eventually asked.
The Master of Fear stalked over and shoved it in the general direction of his face to show him.
"Greetings and salutations March Hare, Dormouse,
My greatest apologies that I cannot be with you tonight but I must accept the Queen's invitation to croquet you see? I rather like my head residing on my shoulders.
But I am sure the two of you will have a most frabjous time together alone. This is my night of choice after all and so I simply insist that you spend it in one another's marvellous company.
I do hope you don't mind my taking of the liberty of giving you your directions for the evening but there is a table reserved for you at La Cappella Aureo under the name "Dodgson". No questions will be asked. I do hope the pair of you will make use of it. After that, I leave the evening's entertainment to your best judgement my dear best friends.
Now I do believe that's all. I'm sure two such brilliant minds need no further guidance now through this wood. It won't much matter which way you go, unless there is somewhere you wish to go to.
Yours most wonderfully,
Jervis Tetch
Edward stared past the paper at the one holding it. "He set us up on a date."
"I'm glad I had a genius like you around to work that one out..." Jonathan mocked bitterly, scrunching and ripping the paper up before tossing it away.
Surely he should be more grateful? They had a rather pleasant meal arranged for them and entire night together. As if anyone else ever offered to spend time with Jonathan Crane in the evenings.
So why was he walking away as if to leave?
"Are we not going for this meal then?" Edward called after him, thoroughly annoyed to be walked out on. Why, it was almost as if Jonathan was only here for Jervis!
Stopping, the Scarecrow looked back at him and scoffed incredulously. "You actually want to?"
"Well yes, I do actually." It wasn't as if Edward got many evenings out of this sort with his current lifestyle, even if he deserved them. The antisocial ex-professor might be bad conversation at times but at least he was smart enough to hold a reasonable game of riddles with if nothing else. It didn't seem as if tonight was one of those nights he was in one of those moods where he actually wanted to interact and enjoy himself like a normal human being.
"...Alright then." Or maybe he was.
"R-Really-? I mean, of course. Shall we go then?" Edward caught up so that they could leave this place together.
Jonathan didn't say anything, but that meant he didn't say anything spiteful or insulting. That was almost like his version of liking your company when the Fear God wasn't trying to scare you off.
When they got down to the ground, it appeared the cheapskate doctor had walked here so it looked as if they were taking Edward's car to the restaurant.
Jonathan wasn't quite sure what to make of this development to the evening. "What... is-?"
"It's a Chrysler Crossfire." Edward informed him with great pleasure as he moved around to the driver's side. "Though I'm not particularly surprised that you don't know that."
The Scarecrow's scathing anger made itself known by a low hiss. They all knew his upbringing was off-limits for teasing.
No, his real objection to the car was how conspicuous such a posh vehicle would be out on the streets of Gotham at night, practically as much of a hazard as having the bat-symbol shine on you. Of course he knew Edward was good enough to make sure it wasn't tracked or wanted by the police but still...
"...It's kind of conspicuous, isn't it?" Jonathan asked warily.
He received a scornful look. "Do you know what La Cappella Aureo is like-?"
"Do I look like the type who goes to fancy Italian restaurants-?"
"Then I will tell you that we'd be conspicuous if we turned up in anything less than a Chrysler." Since he still was observing from a distance, the car's owner made a gesture for Jonathan to get in already.
They drove, mainly in awkward silence to begin with.
The Georgian country boy never seemed comfortable in anything luxurious and of course The Riddler had made sure this was top of the range, personally customised probably. Some kind of imprinted idea that decadence was the desire of the devil and something a bad boy like Jonathan didn't deserve. How he'd get on in such a swanky, upmarket place to dine Edward didn't know. But he did remember that at times the Spartan doctor let himself indulge quite a lot, if only to be disobedient of Great-Granny's teachings. There was always something of a sinful child in a Jonathan Crane who was actually having some fun.
"...Oh, do you want to go home and change first?" Eventually Edward thought to ask.
It was a good thing that the driver had his eyes on the road and didn't see the insultingly derisive look from his passenger. "Why would I do that?"
"It's a very posh place."
"So?"
"So," Edward just barely stopped himself calling Jonathan a "bumpkin" or some synonym of that, "people tend to dress in their smarter clothes to eat at nice places." It was like educating a child on social decorum...
The passenger was not best pleased. This must have been what Jervis' extra message to him was about, and he had followed it. "These are my best clothes." Or what Jonathan thought was the most fashionable things he currently owned. He didn't quite understand teenage fashion wasn't the same as adult fashion but what more can you expect from a man who's preferred fabric is burlap?
Edward gave a very histrionic sigh. "Not even a suit?"
"Gone with my teaching career." The reply sneered. He missed one as much as the other.
Well they would just have to hope the restaurant would honour their reservation anyway, regardless of dress.
As it happens, they did. At first they wondered how much of his reward money Jervis had paid for this but then they saw the 10/6 card poking out of the waiter's hair and all was solved. The entire restaurant was empty for them so that it barely mattered in any case; only the waiters, all carded, saw them that night.
When it came to the meal, Jonathan managed to be picky and grouchy about everything. The menu wasn't in English, "Well of course not you fool. It's an Italian restaurant." "And how many of the pathetic, snobbish customers here actually speak Italian?" and then there was too much garnish, "A waste of food and space for food." "Do aesthetics mean nothing to you Jonathan?" "Why should they? They're impractical." "Dear God... That's entirely the point of aesthetics!" and he didn't think much to the meals they did have either. All far too fancy for a Scarecrow's liking. Lord knows what he would have said had they been paying for their food as well.
But the food aside, the conversation they shared was good and the mood reasonably amiable. There were a few laughs and lots of impressive and intellectual matters to discuss.
As Jonathan had learnt during this felonious undertaking together, Edward did not always provide obnoxious and irritating conversation like that of a super-intelligent child with low blood-sugar levels. Actually, he provided some of the best conversation the doctor had ever had once off his Arkham medication. The foul and vindictively silly moods were all an affect of the drugs whereas the real Edward Nygma was fascinating and even if not obsessed by it, competent enough in general knowledge to discuss the wonderful intricacies of fear with. But regardless of his knowledge level now, Edward expressed a desire to learn about fear and even if that was only for future precautions the next time he encountered Scarecrow, it was enough for the Master of Fear. And The Riddler would say exactly the same about Jonathan in relation to puzzles and enigmas of all kinds.
After all, they were both fundamental aspects of human nature, even if Edward took a less psychological approach to his obsession.
One all humans sought to avoid, a repelling drive, and the other something all humans sought to obtain and acquire the answer to, an equal and opposite attractive drive.
And Jonathan's work was just one big puzzle he was unravelling while Edward dabbled in fear putting people in his death traps. It was perhaps a little counter-intuitive, trying to make them prove their intelligence whilst limiting it with fear. The arrogant genius countered that by arguing that if they were clever enough to get out in the first place, they wouldn't have any need to feel any fear.
Well all that sparked a very long and enthralling debate upon the interplay of intelligence and fear, if the former had any negative correlation with the latter if all fears were ultimately traceable to the fear of the unknown and whether fear inhibited the full workings of the mind.
It was all such an interesting discussion that they left the restaurant still arguing about it, though everyone around was too carded to notice, and with plans in mind to go find some worthless, homeless junkies to test their hypotheses on. Jonathan always carried half a dozen syringes and a gas canister of fear toxin concealed in his clothing even on the most social of occasions like this. You didn't even need to ask if Edward's mind had a dozen riddles spare for their plans.
"I give life to those without breath whilst taking it away from those with breath. What am I?"
The young man they had found trying to salvage scrap from an alley to sell stammered nothing that could count as an answer. He wasn't quite fully in terror yet, so Scarecrow emptied a syringe into him. A strain of fear toxin that didn't cause hallucinations, only the physical effects of fear.
Jonathan waited, but Edward didn't ask anything. "...Well go on Riddle-boy." He drawled, jacking his thumb at their test subject.
Edward shrugged and groomed his hair with a hand. "If the brainless reject couldn't even answer a riddle that simple before the fear toxin, what's the use now?"
Well, maybe the highly conceited ginger had a point there. "...You could have told me before I wasted a syringe."
"Oh, well," There was that tone which forewarned an insult to intelligence, "it really isn't my problem if you weren't smart enough to work that out for yourself Dr. Crane."
Maybe he should empty the next syringe into Edward...
They went to find another victim, leaving that one curled into such a tight ball he practically looked as if he was consuming himself whilst his form was wracked with sobs and shivers.
"Electricity." Jonathan answered simply.
"Huh?" Edward blinked at him from behind the lilac lenses he wore. Currently they were on to help him see in the low light of a grimy, Gotham evening as well as for finding targets quickly with the infrared, heat-sensing setting. "Oh, of course." That was a simple one really. It powered inanimate tech and electrocuted living organisms.
The next time they made sure the test subject could actually answer a riddle before utilising the fear toxin.
"I am second but did not win silver. I am third but did not win bronze. I took but one breath and will end by suffering the brimstone of hell. But when I die, no one will mourn at my gravestone; what will it read?"
It appeared fear did have quite an impact on people's riddling abilities. Or maybe it was just a harder riddle.
They left that one alone and screaming into a makeshift gag, didn't want to attract any attention after all, to ponder on the results so far.
It seemed Jonathan had at least deduced something about it, so the event wasn't a total waste of time.
"...The Sun." Nope. He was just answering the riddle. "The mention of metals is a hint to the periodic table which gives you Helium for second, Lithium for third. A single breath likely means a single Oxygen and brimstone is Sulphur. The symbols spell out HeLiOS, the sun, which will of course kill everyone during its "death" so no one will be left to mourn."
Edward frowned. "Yes, yes. I made the riddle. You don't need to explain it to me..." Damn. And that had been one of his favourites. It had taken a while, five minutes for him, of staring at a periodic table to think it up.
But explaining it all was half the triumphant fun to Jonathan. Something about having all the pieces fit together neatly, nothing left over or unquestioned, that was so satisfying compared to his never-ending work on fear.
The Riddler turned the conversation to the last victim instead, musing on if fear really did make it rather unfair to test people in his death traps. Jonathan was unwilling to give any definite answer; he was more interested in if the fact that one was smarter made any effect on their experience of the fear toxin. Nothing conclusive, that couldn't be external factors. Edward didn't like the way he was being eyed up when the Scarecrow started talking about experimenting on more highly-intelligent people to see if they differed from the morons he normally captured. He quickly located another test subject, sadly a very stupid one, to get the attention off his wonderful cranium.
After that, they decided to call it a night.
Not only were all the people they found utterly brainless but things were starting to get dangerous. Most of Gotham were still out in force for the three who had caused such a disaster only a fortnight ago and no doubt the Bat would be especially vigilant for any screams.
So now all that was left to do was make it back to where Edward had parked his car without being spotted and slip away into the night. There was some sneaking at parts, but another part was very deserted and fine to talk.
It was no surprise that the other rogue could answer his riddles; Scarecrow and Mad Hatter were the other parts of the Genius Triumvirate of Arkham, also referred to as the Tea Party Trio by Jervis. Jonathan had no such chummy name for their group, except occasionally calling himself part of the nerd clique.
Still, it was nice to have someone solve his riddles who wasn't going to take him into Arkham at the end of them.
And since he was peeved and intrigued by how good Jonathan was at all his riddles, he set another one.
"Riddle me this: I work without sound or movement, or any kind of aid. I do not sit, I do not stand and always, if I am good, alone. Who would ever want my life?"
As Edward had to wait longer and longer as they walked, he grew more and more pleased with himself. Finally! The ever-so-clever doctor was stumped!
Eventually though, it seemed Jonathan was willing to admit defeat. "...I am always a singular thing. I am first but never more than an object. I can tire you out endlessly but yet your entire existence depends on mine." He grinned at the Master of Riddles. "What am I?"
Utterly stunned for a moment, okay so he hadn't been stumped but thinking of a riddle of his own to answer it very cleverly with, Edward made sure to answer it quickly so he didn't seem stupid or baffled himself in any way. "Smart. "Me" as in you, as in-"
"Scarecrow." The answer to Edward's riddle which Jonathan was the only one who could answer, "me" to.
Most of what the Fear God had come up with was English-based but there was a reference to myalgic encephalomyelitis, chronic fatigue syndrome, because he was medically knowledgeable too.
It wasn't exactly a great riddle, neither would say that, but The Riddler had respect for his speed and audacity in attempting such an answer.
"For all the Batman answering your riddles, he never goes to that trouble for you does he?" Jonathan proudly pointed out, breaking the other man's introspection on the curious exchange that had just happened between them.
"No..." Edward had to admit.
That alone seemed to be enough to satisfy the amateur riddler.
Well if Jonathan ever wanted the position, he'd proved to be a better sidekick than Query and Echo ever were. And he was about as attractive, from a male-interested perspective...
They were walking in silence again by this point, getting back to slightly inhabited streets, and nothing else was said until they reached the car.
"Where now?" Ever pragmatic, the Scarecrow asked as they got in and the car started up around them, flooding the interior with low, green light. All of his delight at surprising The Riddler with a riddle as an answer had disapitated by now.
Edward shrugged, beginning to drive anyway. "Where would you like to go?"
The passenger removed his glasses, wiping the lenses on a shirt tail. Dirty night air... "If you have no further plans for me, home. I've wasted enough time tonight..."
"...You think tonight has been a waste of time?" That hurt.
Jonathan could hear the upset tugging at his partner's voice. So childish... "What have you gained from it Edward?"
"Gained? Well... A very lovely, free meal. An interesting lesson on fear." That part was mainly added for flattery. "A chance to pit yet more ignorance-addled morons against my riddles. Good company..."
Of course that last one was going to be the one picked up on. Edward hadn't expected a bark of Jonathan's sharp laughter though. "Really? Have I been good company to someone for once?"
"...I enjoyed tonight..." The somewhat quiet reply came.
"I suppose Jervis always does keep inviting me back for tea parties no matter how rude I am..." Edward went ignored, which he hated, but that wasn't the main reason he pulled away from the red light with such fury, even if he could blame it on that fact. "But he does bring out the best in me at times... though perhaps that's just the tea and cake."
"Jervis aside," A snide voice cut in to bring the attention back to where it belonged, "I did enjoy this night with you Jonathan," on the owner of said voice.
After a pause, "I guess it's been reasonable," Jonathan agreed.
They drove on in silence, not bothered by the few other road users as they headed north through some more industrial areas-
Wait, north?
"Edward, I don't live north of here." Jonathan pointed out grumpily. He had expected the know-it-all to know where he was currently living now the three of them had broken up.
"I know." Oh, so he did know.
"Then where are we going?" Jonathan snapped incredulously.
Edward took a short stop to check if anything was coming as an opportunity to flash his passenger a devious smirk. "You said home. At no point did you specify your own."
Until the driver next glanced at him, Jonathan just frowned. "Stop the car."
"Excuse me?"
"Stop. The. Car. I'll walk home." He was already reaching to undo his seatbelt.
"W-Wait Jonathan! You don't- Why not?" Edward practically whined, making sure not to let the car slow too much. He jumped a red light, no other cars were around, in order to make sure no one escaped this car.
No answer. Just judging for a moment when it would be safe to jump out.
"Why not?!" The car stopped so suddenly that Jonathan nearly had quite an accident, considering his seatbelt was loose and he merely clung onto it.
As he picked himself out of the foot well, the Scarecrow scowled darkly. "Why do you want me to go to your place?"
The Riddler scoffed. "Because that's generally a nice way to end a date, invite them home to yours."
Sitting himself back in his seat, Jonathan seemed unconvinced that was the whole truth. Of course it was part of the truth, Edward had to tell the truth, but sometimes he could stop himself telling the whole truth if he told a good portion of it. "Edward, I-"
"It's obvious." The ginger blurted out, smirking again now he felt in control. Even though they were stationary, on double yellow lines but like that was the worst crime either of them had committed, no longer was his passenger likely to escape on him. Not until he had answers at least.
"...What is?"
Edward's smirk cracked into a full grin. "That you're bisexual Jonathan."
Wow. He had never seen an infuriated blush rise up someone's face like that before. It settled atop Jonathan's cheeks as he grasped for an answer.
It came in the form of another attempted escape from the car.
"No, no please! Don't! We don't- I wasn't suggesting that we do... do it." Edward managed to coax him to stay, though the door was open ready. "Just... come back and... and talk with me more..." Now that sounded really pathetic. As if the God of Fear, the Master of Despair, would be convinced by that.
But nonetheless, Edward received an icy blue glare over Jonathan's shoulder. "...At what point were you going to make your intentions clear? When we got there? During perfectly "innocent" conversation? In your bedroom?"
"Why is this such an issue for you Jonathan?" He sighed in great frustration. "Everything was going so well before..."
After an awkwardly tense moment waiting on the other to make some further comment or move, the one who had been thinking of escape sat back in his seat and reached to put his seatbelt back on. "Go then. Before we get caught." And to shut up the delight Edward tried to hide, "I don't fancy walking back from here and I know you won't drive me unless I play along with your stupid, childish game."
Well that was a good enough answer anyway.
So they drove on. But it was incredibly awkward. There was absolutely no speech and no glances that met. It rather defeated the point of bringing Jonathan home to his place if he was now refusing to talk. His passenger was likely talking to Scarecrow in his mind but that didn't help things between the two people with physical bodies here. There had to be something to talk about but Edward considered it below himself to resort to the obvious of fear or a riddle.
"...What are you going to do from here on Jonathan? In terms of your career." No one had discussed plans for after their work together. There hadn't really been the time to plan anything but their current work together.
"Continue my research." He didn't even bother to add any scorn about how obvious that was.
Easy conversation this was... "And how will you be doing that?"
"Experiments."
"Oh what a surprise(!)" Edward remarked sarcastically. They weren't far from his place now and he didn't fancy arriving with this atmosphere between them. "You really are fantastic conversation Jonathan. I must commend you, really."
"What business is it of yours?" The other hissed.
For someone driving a car, Edward was making far too many glances and gestures in his passenger's direction. "It's just something to talk about; something friends ask about."
"Since when are we friends?"
That made things very tense and antagonistic in the front of the car.
Perceiving relationships as more intimate than they actually are; a symptom of histrionic personality disorder that Edward had, or was labelled with at least. They both knew it but the one with it wasn't going to admit to it. He was right about their relationship, just like everything else that he was right about.
Their eyes met for quite a long moment in which neither showed any signs of intimidation or wavering.
"...Then what am I to you?" Edward finally asked. The car was at a stop right now.
Jonathan had to give that some thought. "...I don't know. It's not as if I have that many social acquaintances I need to categorise..." He shrugged and frowned back, not letting the other man think he would give in by looking away first.
That threw the genius a bit, though he was used to people not knowing things. "Well, tell me then; what is Jervis to you?" Edward hated to be compared to the little freak but if it was necessary, he'd comfort his delicate ego through the discomfort.
"Jervis?" This time, there was no hesitation or need for thought. "Jervis is my best friend." Jonathan had to wonder quite why that made such apparent irritation on the other rogue's face. Jealousy seemed most likely, or maybe the idea of being second to someone. "...I suppose that makes you my best friend as well Edward." Any displeasure disappeared very easily with just those few words. The man was absolutely at the will of his ego and emotions, as desperately self-absorbed a child, when it came to getting attention and approval. Another symptom of his histrionic personality disorder. For how sneaky and imperceptible The Riddler was behind a screen, in person he was as obvious as The Joker's disturbing, attention-seeking ploys for Batman each Valentine's Day. Perhaps it was all part of his awkward compulsion to tell the truth, like a visual puzzle, making his emotions so apparent. If so, they were his easiest riddles.
"Best-? Well of course!" Edward laughed and drove on happily, glad to be so near his home now. "You really do have the social skills of a half-dead alley cat with mange if you can't even deduce something as simple as who your friends are!"
Jonathan just rolled his eyes and was pleased all that had blown over so simply with that admission. He had no idea if it was true or not, about Edward being his best friend, but the point of language was not to tell the truth; it was to interact and achieve things through the manipulation of others' thoughts and actions.