~ Beginnings ~

The blinking orange streetlight cast a dull glow over the slick post-rain streets of the Narrows. Everything was perfectly quiet and still, apart from the water dripping from the gutters of the run down houses, and the sound of Evelyn Mason's thick leather boots clunking on the pavement, and splashing through the puddles as she strode the streets and back alleys, chin held high, back straight and hips swinging. It paid to look confident in the Narrows, too many people likely to take advantage of a young woman, walking alone... Not like they could.

She found herself at an underpass; where there were a few run down buildings sitting side by side. Grey and miserable as everywhere else, but slightly more seedy and unsavory. One of them was basically a modern day whorehouse, another homed a long running meth lab, and another, the only one that was remotely lit, was where you would find some of the more hardened criminals of Gotham. This included Carmine Falcone, the person that Evelyn had business with.

She headed purposefully toward the dimly lit building, crossing the quiet road as she did so. In the distance she could hear the soft crackling of a fire lit in a tin can by a homeless man, and stepped round an expensive looking car to get to the door.

She hammered on the wood firmly with her fist and immediately a man in a black suit answered. He was tall, well built, and eyed her carefully. On her own, Evelyn wasn't particularly imposing, she was an average height woman, curvaceously built and with delicately pretty facial features. But her reputation was what gave her power, and she wasn't exactly difficult to spot in her black leather attire and identity-disguising eye-mask.

With a small nod, the guard let her in the bar and she stepped inside confidently, her eyes scanning over the many people inside. Criminals mixed with Gotham Officials, and fake-breasted tarts melted onto the laps of High Court judges. She spotted Falcone right away, sitting in his usual booth alone, flanked by a guard standing beside him.

"Ah, Ms. M, nice to see you." He said, his broad accent hanging to every word. Carmine Falcone was one of the most powerful people in Gotham, Evelyn knew that he could slit her throat right there and no one would bat an eyelid, and there wasn't much he didn't have control of in or out of the Narrows, but she wasn't one to be intimidated; everyone had something they were afraid of, it was just a case of figuring it out.

"Always a pleasure, Carmine." She said smoothly, her voice as calm and collected as it always was, as she sat herself across from him in the booth, crossing her legs, and resting her gloved hands on the table. No one else would call him 'Carmine,' it was always 'Mr Falcone' or 'Sir,' but Evelyn was a different case, too valuable.

"So, what brings you here?" He asked, a small smile of amusement on his lips. He liked this girl. "I heard that you were out of town."

"Oh I'm here, I'm there, I'm fuckin' everywhere." She said with a small grin. "And the guy's dead, so I want my money." She bluntly finished, sitting back and crossing her arms, the leather of her jacket squeaking ever so slightly.

"He's dead?" Carmine repeated with a tone of surprise. "Fast, even for you."

"He was a nobody, and nobody's are easy." She said flippantly, before again sitting forward and resting her hands on the table. "Now, my payment." She said firmly, eyes flashing behind her mask.

Falcone considered her for a moment, admiring her spunk.

"Of course." He looked up at his guard and nodded. The tall black man promptly disappeared into one of the back rooms to retrieve her cash. Falcone and Evelyn looked at each other, both with eyes slightly challenging, but bodies firm. Both knew neither would harm the other.

The guard returned holding a black briefcase, which he laid on the table in front of Falcone.

"Hmm, I would've preferred a burlap sack with a big dollar sign on it... But if you wanna be all formal." Evelyn joked, sitting forward further and uncrossing her legs. Falcone let out a throaty laugh as he opened the briefcase to reveal her money.

"It's in small bills like I asked for?" She questioned eyebrow quirking as she looked over it.

"$4,000 Ms M. As per our agreement." Falcone told her as Evelyn flipped through one of the money clips.

"Excellent." She dropped the clip back into the briefcase, and snapped it shut. "Pleasure doing business with you again Carmine." She gave him a wide smile and stood, picking the case up with her.

"And you Ms M. I'm sure I'll be seein' you soon." He said after her as she swaggered out of the room.

"I'm sure you will." She grinned, not turning back, and relishing the weight of the case she held in her hand. She arrived at the door where one of the guards opened the door for her. She sent him a wink and a smile.

"See you later boys." She said smoothly, before stepping back out into the wet streets of the Narrows.

It was fair to say that Evelyn Mason loved her job.

Evelyn burst into the old run down apartment building; arms ceremoniously wide like she'd just arrived at a college party.

"Honey! I'm home!" She called animatedly, dropping the suitcase onto the floor as she practically skipped through the room. It was dimly lit and dusty, and the musty smell that floated round it was one unlike anything else. She stepped down the hallway and through into the room that would've been the kitchen. "Ooh, it smells evil in here, what are you cooking up today Jonny?" She questioned, eyebrows high and grin wide.

"You know I don't like it when you call me that Evelyn..." Doctor Jonathan Crane replied, tone flat, although with a slight hint of amusement.

The rest of the apartment looked like any other, if a little unkempt. But the kitchen looked like the lab of a mad scientist. On the table, in lieu of plates and bowls of fruit were bubbling pots and conical flasks; boiling tubes holding different kinds of chemicals. The whole thing gave off an intoxicating mist, which slightly stung the nostrils. But Evelyn was far used it by now.

"And that Dr. Crane is exactly why I call you it." She stepped round the table to stand next to him, as he hunched over the table, his eyes firmly on his notes. "And, I'm in a good mood." She added.

"And why is that?" He asked disinterestedly, still not looking up at her.

"Well, I made $4,000 dollars tonight." She said, smile igniting her face as she ran the tip of her tongue through her teeth. His eyes snapped up to her quickly.

"$4,000?" He repeated, looking pleased. "Excellent." He stood up straight and faced her. "That should get my research moving along nicely."

"Uh uh uh, Jonny-boy." She said with mock-scolding tone of voice. "Our deal's only good as long as I get something out of it." She wandered further into the kitchen leisurely, and her eyes spotted a bowl of assorted fruit.

"Now, I don't need to know everything about your diabolical plans but you know that I need incentive to carry on funding your work." She picked a grape off the bunch and rolled it between her fingers as she spoke. "Whatever is going to happen involving this mysterious Ra's al Ghul character is going to be big, I know that much." She threw a grape up into the air and caught it in her mouth. "But I need to know that when Gotham is plunged into anarchy, using whatever the fuck this stuff is..." She waved her hand at the table. "That I will get some of the glory. I want to watch this city burn and not be left in the cinders if you understand me..." She smiled, picking up a peach now.

Crane considered her for a moment, with his untelling but piercing eyes, and slightly wry smile on his lips.

"I know perfectly well of your... anarchic, desires Evelyn and don't worry, you'll find out soon enough." He assured her, "you know you can trust me. I have no reason to stab you in the back."

Evelyn laughed a little, the sound reverberating through her chest as she chewed some of her peach.

"Oh Jonny..." She stepped toward him, her tone slightly low but her expression still amused. "You know as well as I do that if you ever even tried to stab me in the back..." She was standing directly in front of him now, speaking quietly. "That I would take that knife and fucking cut your heart out with it." She whispered in his ear.

Crane allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her breath. He wasn't afraid of her, both of them knew that much. But he knew that what she said was no lie; she would kill him in a heartbeat if she had to. That was why he liked her; it was why he respected her.

She stepped back slightly and set him a cheerful smile and playful wink.

"You've got such pretty blue eyes Jon." She told him, her voice like silk as she set down her peach ran her fingers down his tie. He stared at her intently. He knew there was nothing sweet about what she said, nothing romantic. Evelyn was cold, cold and maniacal, and he wasn't sure she even had the capacity to be sweet or romantic anymore.

At first glance, Evelyn was perfect, beautiful in the face, with a centerfold body and long blonde tresses of hair. But inside, it was like there was nothing there, nothing real. She got a thrill from chaos and excitement from her 'job' but there was no real emotion there, she was like a doll... Perfect, beautiful; but empty.

She pecked the corner of his lips, and was grinning when she stepped back. She then straightened her jacket, cleared her throat, and turned her tone formal.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow Doctor Crane." She picked up his hand and shook his hand firmly, to which Crane rolled his eyes slightly. "And uh... I may drop into your office again... Blow off some steam." She said the last part in almost a purr.

With that, she stepped round him and to the door, where she picked up her discarded suitcase of money and took out a few clips.

"Don't spend it all in one place!" She called leaving the money behind for him before leaving, the door slamming closed behind her.

Evelyn didn't make habit of working with people; building ties had a tendency to blow up in your face. People couldn't be trusted, she'd learned that much. But Doctor Crane was different from your average criminal, more intelligent and with far different motives, more intellectually driven than financial or maniacal. Evelyn had only found out about his little endeavor accidentally; as a criminal psychologist at Arkham Asylum she had of course come across the director, Doctor Crane, and had noticed anomalies with his patients. Going into his office with mild cases of bipolar disorder and leaving trying to gouge out their own eyes. None of the other Doctor's had questioned it; they either hadn't noticed or were too afraid of dismissal to make themselves heard.

Evelyn wasn't like the other Doctor's though.

Several Years Ago

"Don't give me that bullshit Doc, you're a good psychologist but you aren't that good. There's clearly something up here and I wanna know what." Her fingertips were poised on his desk, and she leaned forward ever so slightly.

Crane gave her a wry smile and eyed her closely. Evelyn didn't back down, or turn away, even though his eyes did feel as if they were looking directly into your mind. He wet his lips before speaking:

"Doctor Mason, I do not know what you are trying to imply but I must say that this is completely inappropriate of you. What happens between me and my patients is confidential and I assure you th-"

"You assure me that your practice completely conventional and in accordance with yada yada yada..." She waved her hand in a dismissive way. Crane was starting to get annoyed. This woman wasn't backing down and he didn't like it. He didn't like her questions. "You wouldn't want me going to the police with this would you?" She questioned, eyebrow arched.

Evelyn didn't mean that, she would never risk going anywhere near a police station unless she absolutely had to. She just wanted to know what Crane was up to. She didn't like missing out on any fun to be had and she especially didn't like the pretty little brown haired Doctor's lying to her face.

"I'm sure we can have a reasoned conversation about this Doctor Mason. Please, take a seat." He said eventually, after resolving that he would have to take more drastic measures to quiet this persistent woman.

Evelyn looked at him carefully before sitting down in the chair opposite him, the one less comfortable and more worn than the one he sat in. She crossed her legs and Crane felt his eyes flick momentarily to her exposed leg. Christ knew it had been a while...

Back to the matter at hand.

"Would you like to see my mask, Evelyn?" He asked, reverting to her first name and unclipping his briefcase. "I use it in my experiments..." Evelyn watched as he took a rather hideous torn burlap sack from his brief case and held it up. The mouth and eyes were grotesquely and crudely sewn to make it look like a scarecrow's face.

"You're far stranger than I estimated Doct-"

Evelyn stopped when a fast and harsh mist was sprayed in her face apparently from nowhere. She felt herself inhale and the toxin stung her nostrils and eyes as it entered every orifice on her head. She was confused, and her vision cloudy as she recovered from the shock of the initial blow of it, and coughed and spluttered.

"Are you afraid, Doctor Mason?" Crane had his mask on, and his voice sounded distorted behind it. It didn't even sound like him anymore, more a chesty taunting tone. Evelyn could barely see, her world seemed to be tipping from left to right and she subconsciously clutched the arms of her chair for support.

"What-" She struggled for breath, aware that she was panting slightly and blood was pumping through her veins. "What the f-fuck did you just do t-... do to me?"

She focused all her attention on steadying her vision and controlling her breathing as she gripped the arms of the chair, nails in the wood.

"What can you see?" His voice barked from somewhere in the distance, and Evelyn's clouded eyes searched for him in the mist. "WHAT CAN YOU SEE?" He repeated, her voice loud and sharp.

Evelyn looked around frantically. She couldn't see anything. The world spun and her vision was blurry but that was all. She could feel something akin to fear gripping her, beads of sweat formed on her forehead and she could feel the blood pumping round her veins. But she couldn't see anything.

"WHAT CAN YOU SEE?" Crane jumped the desk, and all Evelyn could see was his burlap sack covered face in front of her own. She felt herself hit the floor and was aware of his weight on top of her, his hands on her neck as the wind was knocked from her.

This brought her back to reality, and through the fog she managed to turn the tables, surprising him as she threw her weight forward and knocked him onto his back, instinctively throwing back a fist and striking him hard.

She stumbled to her feet, breathing in deeply as she regained her breath, sucking it in and blinking through her watering eyes.

She clutched her throat as he breathing steadied, her vision slowly returning to normal.

"You fucker." She panted out. "You fucker." She put a hand on the desk and leaned there, furious and humiliated.

Crane pulled off his mask slowly, still a little dazed from the surprisingly forceful punch and her little reaction to his toxin. Clearly there was something he didn't know about her.

He stood from the floor, and cracked his jaw. "Quite a punch Doctor." He said, in his low, smooth tone, as he touched his stinging cheek, a purple bruise already appearing. "Looks like I'm not the only one keeping secrets." He sat up and cracked his neck, watching a she regained her breath and steadied her shaking hands.

She rubbed her neck and looked at him, eyes deadly but lips curling into the slightest of wry smiles.

"You don't know anything about me, Crane." She said, her voice still slightly croaky but steady.

"I know that you probably have a better right hook than most of the guards in this institution." He stood and straightened his jacket. "And I know that your reaction to my toxin is... Undocumented."

"And I know that you are doing little experiments on your patients that you wouldn't want the police to find out about." She countered, picking up the knocked over chair, returning to normality.

"It seems were are at some sort of an impasse." He commented, flattening his hair.

"It seems so Doc." She stepped toward him slightly. "I'll tell you my dirty secrets if you tell me yours." She whispered.

It was around three months after agreeing to work together that Evelyn and Jonathan had started screwing.

It just happened. People underestimated how stressful it was to juggle a double life, and since Crane and Evelyn's double lives happened to come into synch it worked for them both that they would use each other for stress relief.

Evelyn stepped into her apartment after a long day, pulling off her mask as she did so with a deep sigh. She placed it carefully in the bottom drawer of her hallway bureau and headed into the living room, ready to spend what little was left of the night blissfully asleep.

She walked through the darkness, pulling off her boots as she did so, but when she bent down to unlace the second she was startled by the feeling of bony fingertips gripping her waist. She let out an uncharacteristic girlish squeal and quickly turned, ready to strike the first person her eyes saw.

"Crane?" She questioned, frowning, pausing her fist in the air. "You scared the shi-"

"SHUT. UP." He barked and gripped her wrist tightly before pushing her against the wall, she let out an 'oof!' as the wind was knocked from her. She wasn't as fast as she usually would be, having slightly let her guard down because of her trust of Crane. "What's wrong with you?" He asked, his tone low as he pressed is hands against her arms to keep her against the wall. "Why don't you look afraid? Why doesn't the toxin work on you?" His voice was frantic, and his piercing eyes searched her for answers. "Why aren't you afraid of anything?" He dug his thumbs into her skin.

"I'm warning you Crane, get the fuck off me." She hissed, wanting to avoid any ugliness.

"Is it bugs? Snakes? Closed in spaces? Clowns? Zombies?" He shook her slightly. "Tell me."

"Last warning Crane."

"Tell me what scares you." His grip tightened on her arms, and she could feel his hot breath panting on her face.

He'd be warned.

Evelyn quickly brought her knee to his stomach, hard, using his reaction to throw off his hands and step back from him slightly. He clutched his stomach; the wind knocked out of him, and regained his breath before straightening.

As quick as the tables had turned, he switched them back on her, rushing forward and knocking her to the ground painfully. Evelyn cursed her lack of preparedness as she hit the ground with him on top of her. His change had thrown her off her game, and she didn't like losing control. It scared her slightly, and Crane could see it.

"There, there it is." He saw the flicker in her eyes and leaned forward to get a better look. "I scared you."

He looked maddened as he brushed her hair from her face, pinning her arms down with his knees as he straddled her stomach.

Evelyn let out a bitter laugh that shook her chest.

"I get it now Jon... You like this, this is what you're into." She looked at him suggestively, and Crane was surprised at her change from momentary fear to complete confidence. She used his confusion to flip them round quickly, and Crane's world turned as he was now on his back with her straddling his hips. "Making people scared, having control over their fear." Her voice was like ice. "It's what you like. It's what gets you off. It's what makes you hard."

Crane couldn't deny the feelings she was stirring up within him. A mixture of anger and lust at the way she taunted him, the way he could feel her pelvis pressed against his and see her breasts elevated above him, pressing against the leather top she wore often.

"Don't challenge me." He said firmly, his voice almost a whisper, his eyes intense.

Evelyn looked down at him, and it was as she looked at his eyes that she felt her body ablaze. It had been a while, and she was angry. But killing or injuring Crane would get her nowhere, and he had proven a decent resource to have at the Asylum... His understanding about being occasionally late and his mutual interests. They were co-workers in both respects, and sexual relationships between colleagues weren't unheard of.

"Are you gonna stop me?" She asked quietly, and her seductive tone almost made him growl.

Evelyn took off her glasses and cleaned them off on the hem of her skirt before replacing them on her nose with a slight sigh. She looked back up at the patient across from her, he was thrashing in his straitjacket and gurney straps, still trying to reach his face so that he could continue to pull teeth from his already raw gums.

"Peter." She repeated for around the fiftieth time, her tone firm but pleasant. "PETER!" She shouted, her voice cracked like a whip and echoed around the chipped white room. It was enough to make him stop thrashing and look at her with wide and deranged eyes. "I'm going to drink my coffee now, will you stop trying to gouge your teeth out while I drink my coffee, please?" She asked calmly, looking him directly in the face.

He stared at her for a moment, clearly confused, before giving a slight nod.

Evelyn picked up her coffee from the small table beside her and took a sip. She did it at her normal pace, blowing away the heat before having a sweet mouthful. She enjoyed the drink, and consumed it at a regular pace while her wide -eyed patient watched her, silently. The only sound in the room was that off Evelyn's lips sucking in the drink and swallowing it daintily.

Eventually, the drink was finished, leaving only the dregs in the bottom, and with a final swallow, Evelyn placed the empty mug on the table beside her and placed her glasses back onto her face.

The patient did not move in this time, he had been entirely transfixed on her the entire time, and his eyes watched her every movement.

She did a small, serene smile at him. "Now then Peter," her voice was impossibly calm and calming in turn, "why did you start pulling out your teeth this morning?" She rested her arm on the small table beside her and picked up her pen, poising it carefully above the paper, but keeping her eyes fixed on his.

He frantically licked his bloody lips, and his body shook against the straps when he moved.

"The voices the voices again," he whipped his head from side to side, "they tell me to do it. If I don't- th- they'll tear and rip and my brain will sssssizzle like bacon." He let out a mad laugh that turned into a desperate cry. Evelyn kept her eyes fixed on him, nodding as he spoke, but her right hand moving swiftly across the page as she took careful notes.

"The voices aren't real, Peter." She leaned forward slightly, these words falling off her tongue for the hundredth time. "You know this."

He opened his mouth, before clamping it shut and shaking his head. She recognized this action. He would speak to her no more. She straightened her glasses, stood and crossed the white padded room, knocking gently on the Plexiglas of the door. The guard standing outside turned and nodded, unlocking it for her.

"Please unstrap Mr Smyth and keep a close eye on his actions. I want a nurse keeping him on observation."

"Yes ma'am." He gave her one nod, and crossed the room while Evelyn made her way out, and headed for her office. This floor contained the patients who were mostly a danger to themselves; the floor below was where the maximum-security patients were held. For then though, she was heading two floors up to where her office was, a headache forming in her temples.

She had had another long night that promised her plenty of money, but had meant some very sticky work and little sleep, and even for a woman like her, sleep was important. The elevator pinged on her floor and she stepped out, heading to the office that formerly belonged to Jonathan Crane, but the name on the frosted glass of the door now read her name and qualifications.

Sitting in the comfortable leather desk chair and rubbing her forehead again, she found herself thinking about the past few years of her life. Things with Crane's fear toxin had gone terribly wrong, and he had gotten himself caught while Evelyn had been foolish enough to save a child from the gas. She didn't like to think about that, she didn't know what had come over her, but in that moment, pity and nurturing had taken over her desire for destruction, and she could not help but to take the boy to safety. It was a sign of weakness she hoped never to show again. In Crane's brief return, Evelyn had managed to get in further with the major crime heads of Gotham, and this proved to be how she eventually met the Joker, possibly one of the people she most admired in the world. She'd gained his trust, and been at his side throughout the terrorizing of Gotham, and although their motives were similar, Evelyn was much more concerned for her own life than the Joker was for his own life, and she would not sacrifice protection of herself for a chance to bring down the Batman.

After his capture, Evelyn had found herself almost permanently bored. With no Batman to defy, with no great mastermind's plans to become raveled in, Evelyn spent most of her time on small-time jobs. Killing and stealing was fun enough, but she couldn't help but feel the desire for something more, something grand, and awful, and catastrophic. She smiled slightly to herself and cracked her knuckles, and thought about what she would be doing that night. A party, perhaps, maybe she'd go to a club, have a few drinks...

...

"Right! Ladies and gentlemen! If you would all kindly get on your knees on the floor, hands behind your heads, that's the way. Lovely darling." She gestured to a crying woman on the floor. "Bravo!"

She hopped over to the cashier's desk. "You," she aimed her gun at the shaking woman behind the counter, "keep your hands where I can see them, and quickly fill this," she threw her a black duffel bag, "with the contents of the register while I get to work on this cabinet." She grinned, and used her elbow to smash in the glass, so that she could grab the diamond jewelry with gloved hands and stuffed them into the bag on her shoulder. As anticipated, the alarm set off, ringing in her ears.

"Right, I have 55, seconds, quickly, quickly, quickly," she said, to the woman, banging the butt of her gun on the top of the metal register, making her flinch.

"Pl-please don't kill me..." Tears streaked the woman's face, and her voice shook when she spoke.

"Aww, hush hush now," Evelyn ran her leather gloved hand up the woman's face, and rubbed a tear away, "I'm not going to kill you."

She pointed her gun at the wall behind cashier, just over her shoulder and fired, causing the room to scream and jump.

"You better hurry up though, sweetheart."

The crying woman stuffed the bills into the bag as quickly as her shaking, fumbling hands would allow her, while Evelyn skipped across the room and took the shoulder of a fearful looking business man, dragging him to his feet, and holding him with her left arm around the shoulders, the barrel of her gun pressed against his temple.

"Right! This is my hostage!" She jabbed the barrel of the gun into his head. "Look at him! Scared isn't he?" She put her lips on the shell of his ear. "Scared, aren't you?" and he was, he looked terrified; he cried.

Hoisting the bags onto her shoulder, and tightening her grip on the man, she made her way out of the back door of the shop, kicking it open with impressive strength.

Idiots, the police hadn't surrounded the back door yet. All that was there was a black motorbike, sleek and shining in the sunlight. Her Kawasaki Z900A1 1973. Her baby.

"Thanks for being my hostage sweetie," she kissed the cheek of the suited man and threw him to the ground roughly, "you were a big help."

She threw her leg over the bike, and swung the bags onto her back. She tore the black mask from her face, and placed it in one of the bags, facing away from the man, before placing the black helmet on her head, and revving her bike.

Please do leave a review. Hope you enjoyed!

- L.S