In and out. In and out. That would have sounded horribly wrong if the subject of all this travelling had been anybody else but Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow.

By this time, the handcuffs had left their marks on his wrists permanently, they were hurting his skin as blades would, while he was being led by the Arkham guards to his cell. Many patients would call Arkham their family, but he wasn't one for that: despite all the respect he had earnt among the Rogues, their bond was far from familiar or even friendly.

And speaking of respect, all his thoughts were interrupted by those cold, unsettling, disturbing laughs coming from one of the cells, the one belonging to the Clown Prince of Crime, the man who hadn't respected him not even from the start. The Joker seemed delighted by the Scarecrow's entrance, Jonathan was probably the person he liked to make fun of the most.

"Hey Sticks, what happened now? Rejected by some ladies and then fear-gassing them? That wouldn't surprise me, your advances aren't that charming anyways!"

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but as the first sound was about to come out of his troath, he shook his head, sighing as he tried his best to ignore him and keep all the insults inside. However, he knew the clown wouldn't have stopped bugging him either way.

"Awwww c'mon puddin'! Ya know it's not nice to make fun of peeps, expecially when it comes to Johnny, ya know he's ma' bud!"

Soon enough, some giggles began to build up from the Joker's cell: his henchwoman was trying to keep her laughs and smiles for herself, while trying to protect his friend as well. Jonathan's disappointed grew, but in a matter of seconds his observant eye spotted that something was wrong. In all honestly, plenty of things were. Starting from Arkham cells smell and ending up with the Joker's presence. But apparently, what caught Crane's eye was something different and completely irrelevant. Why the hell was Harley in the Joker's cell?

These thoughts were cut off by the click of his handcuffs being unlocked, which was followed by the Scarecrow being shoved in his cell.

The cell was exactly how he had left it: dark, spooky, silent. Maybe not as silent as he remembered it, thanks for the Joker's laughter echoing in the corridor. He had gone through enough, at least for that day, and all he wished for was to sleep. It would have be hard with the clown's constant heckling, but Jonathan was way too tired to care. He sat on the bed, burying his face in his hands, his tired eyes closed against his palms. At least, from what he could tell, Arkham beds had finally been changed, and they felt way softer and warmer- ...warm?

Beds weren't supposed to be warm, at least not if there wasn't somebody in. As soon as these realizations hit, the bed, or at least what was supposed that to be, started to move under Crane's body, forcing him to stand up. In the darkness of the cell, he quickly looked for a torch he had left there during his last 'visit', and with trembling hands he pointed it at the silhouette, to reveal a very sleepy and confused Poison Ivy sitting on the bed. Some brief moments of silence followed. Jonathan was speechless as he saw the woman wrapped in his sheets.

"I understand your shock in being so close to a woman but, you see, I was trying to rest. Could you stop pointing that thing at me so I can continue what I was doing?"

A mix of anger and surprise started to build up in his gut. How could Poison Ivy dare to talk to him like that? He was the mighty and respected Master of Fear, and he wasn't willing of taking orders from anybody!

"Excuse me, but you're in my cell, sleeping in my bed. How am I supposed to sleep?"

"That's not my business, Crane. Not anymore apparently. There aren't enough cells anymore, hence why most people here will have to share their own with somebody else. Meet your new cellmate." she smiled, throwing the bed sheets at her side and standing up, her hands tapping on her hips "I'm sorry but the bed is mine. I wouldn't want to argue, but I came here first. And since you guys are the ones always defending your manly rights, I guess that I, as a woman, should have the bed. That's not that much of an issue anyway, the floor is pretty much just as comfortable... or if you really want the bed, we could share, couldn't we?"

Heat ran upon Crane's cheeks, slowly matching with the woman's hair. He felt extremely angry, Ivy's words unsettling him in a disgusting way. He wasn't gonna give up for that bed, and he wasn't gonna share it. He was the Master of Fear, not an occasional killer who had randomly ended up in Arkham.

As the plant lady turned away from him and sat on the bed, she yawned as she returned to sleeping. Jonathan roughly grabbed her wrist and faced her, throwing her to the cold floor. Ivy let out a moan, glaring at him with wrath-filled eyes. Quickly jumping up, she leapt onto him and pinned him down. Her strong thighs were pressing against his hips in a bone-crushing grip. Jonathan felt harmless under her body. His scrawny figure wasn't known for being good at this kind of fighting. He was nothing more than harmless by this point. He only managed to punch her a few times, before being pinned down again. The woman was reckless, she could have killed him in a matter of seconds. If only he had his fear-toxins... although he was pretty sure they wouldn't have worked on her anyway. To his surprise, as Ivy spotted fear in the man's eyes, she let him go, wrapping herself again in the blankets and leaving him there on the floor, shocked and mentally wrecked: this wasn't going to be easy.

A/N:

My intention is to make a second chapter and then stop or an actual long fanfiction about this. I'd love to hear opinions! I'm a shipper of these two, but I'd like to keep them as in character as I can. I'm looking forward to hear from you guys! (And sorry for any possible mistakes in this, I'm Italian and not that much of a writer too xD)