"Stay there."

"Oh, but Jonathan, there's so much work to be— ahh!" The Hatter gave a cry of pain, recoiling at the firm hand on his chest.

His partner, towering over him like a bitter nurse, maintained his authoritative tone.

"There, see? I can scarcely touch you without practically incapacitating you. You're staying in bed tonight."

Jervis pouted obstinately. He'd have folded his arms across his chest if it weren't battered black and blue. "So what then? Are you planning to pull this job without me?"

"My, you're quick on the up-take tonight, aren't you?" The Scarecrow was already halfway through changing into his signature costume as it stood, though he was still maskless and shoeless.

"And just how are you planning to move all of those crates by yourself? You'll need underlings Jonathan." He directed a stiff gesture at the messy pile cards marked "10/6ths" on his nightstand, unable to curb a flippant smile.

"Crane did up his final button and sighed heavily. "I'm a criminal mastermind Jervis, I know how to hire help."

"But my way is so much more cost effective—"

"Oh, and so much more likely to get you killed!" His impression of Jervis was debased and grossly amateurish, but the point still came across. The impersonated Tetch gritted his teeth and furrowed an annoyed brow.

"Feeling cheeky today dear?"

Jonathan had moved on to lacing his riding boots, albeit with some difficulty. "No more so than usual," he said from the floor, distracted.

The bedridden produced a defeated huff, still barely propped up into a sitting position. "Will you at least promise to call if something goes awry?" At this, his partner laughed dryly, standing back up to snatch his weathered black hat from a nearby lampshade. He'd returned to Tetch's beside once again.

"Jervis," he ran a gloved and sinewy thumb over The Hatter's forehead tenderly, skimming his yellow bangs with haggish knuckles. "You know as well as I do that if anything worth calling home about happened to me, it would probably kill me before I could get to a phone." He laughed again, voice still tuned to sound humorous and light. The amicable tone that most men saved for office parties and single's mixers was the voice that the professor only used to relay truly disturbing information. Jervis did his best not to look upset.

"Are you trying to frighten me?" he ventured.

"Of course not darling." He kissed the tip of Tetch's nose and tapped it playfully with the pad of his forefinger, then straightened up to his full height, removing his glasses and securing his mask in a single practiced sweep. His intonation was subtle but markedly unsettling. "Have pleasant dreams," he said.