Not once, in any of the hideouts that they'd been in, had a telephone rung. Not one time.

Jonathan Crane and Kitty Richardson, therefore, would be forgiven for the utter confusion when the phone rang. Not once, not twice, but several times. They were even more surprised when the phone turned out to have a working answering machine.

"Kitty Richardson!" a voice shrieked. "I know you're in there! You answer this phone right this minute or I'll come down there myself!"

Kitty cringed. Jonathan blinked.

"How did she get this number?"

"She's my mum, of course she got this number! Oh, god…what do I tell her? Maybe she doesn't know…"

"Obviously she does, or she wouldn't have called."

"Shut up, Jonathan! Oh, Jesus, what do I do? What do I do!" She shook him. He gently pried her off and pointed to the phone.

"If she comes here, bad things might happen."

"We're not gassing my mum!"

"No! The guards. So call her."

"Don't leave me alone."

This was amusing. He settled into the chair they'd stolen-a very squishy chair, thank you very much-from a nearby Ikea. Kitty picked up the phone as though it might bite her and hit the redial. A minute later, the phone went on speaker and her mother picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mum."

The resulting shriek made Jonathan's head ache.

"Kitty Richardson, where have you been! And what in the world have you been doing?"

"Job at Arkham…"

"Don't lie to me! I can read!"

Oh. They were going to be in trouble. He shook himself. He was the Scarecrow! And he was an adult. And she wasn't technically his mother.

"Oh, Kitty." Mrs. Richardson said. "I can't believe you. Was it the soap punishment?"

"Mum…"

"You and your cousin both! What is the matter with you?"

"Cousin?"

"You know that American boy she was dating? She came back to the states with him and got a job as an assassin. Really? And then you go and get involved with this Scarecrow…"

"Mum, it's just Jonathan."

There was dead silence at the other end.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Oh, thank god!" What. "Here was me, worried you'd gotten involved with some nut! Are you two eating?"

Well, that was random.

"Yes, Mum. Most of the time."

"You're okay?"

"Yes."

"Is Jonathan with you?"

"Hello, Mrs. Richardson."

"Jonathan, dear, you know you don't have to call me that."

Yes, he did know that, but he never could get his mouth to form anything else.

"Sorry."

"I didn't really want anything." She couldn't be serious. "I was just worried."

"How did you get this number?"

"I'm your mother! I hired someone. A very nice young man. Loves green."

Oh, god. She'd hired Edward? Really? They were going to have a chat with Edward in the near future.

"Okay. Well, we'll try to keep in touch. Bye, Mum."

She hung up and promptly unplugged the phone. Jonathan stared.

"What was that for?"

"I said we'd keep in touch. I meant a postcard."

He could see it now. A postcard of some screaming victim, perhaps with the pair of them looming over it. And on the back: 'Happy holidays!" Yeah. Cheerful.

AN: Update every day! Hahahahahaha...not for long. I'll run out of these sooner or later.