Good to see two old avatars. Thanks for the reviews Robot521 and Violeta27, much internet love sent your way (it's the good kind, I promise! See all hands accounted for!) and Berriesbing, I'm glad you're following the series and are enjoying yourself. Thank you kindly for your review, no one appreciates it more than me...and maybe that random guy from Sweden, but that's merely speculation on my part, I can't say for certain what he's thinking.

Saturday, 1999

**Riddler**

It was surprisingly dead in Gotham, being that it was a Saturday night.

With Echo at the wheel, the Riddler sat in the passenger seat working on a crossword, calmly filling in his answers.

"Boss, hows about we get some ice cream?" Query asked, leaning forward from the back seat, to poke her head between him and her partner.

Tucking the capped top of the pen into his mouth, he pondered this.

"She has been good, boss." Echo said.

"Yes, but she gets too unfocused with sugar in her bloodstream." He pointed out twirling the pen in his dexterous hand. "How many bombs blow up parliament?"

"We don't have a parliament, boss."

"I'm aware, my dear, I'm merely curious as to how many it would take to blow up the British house of parliament."

"All three houses of parliament or just the Palace of Westminster with all three houses convening inside?" Echo asked, while at the same time from the backseat, Query chirped out, "a fuck-ton!"

Smirking, Edward turned in his seat to eye the blonde. "A fuck-ton, Query darling, isn't really a term of measurement."

"Sure it is, boss." She replied. "It's less than a giant's nutsack and more than a shitload. When are we going to blow it up?"

"I wasn't planning on actually blowing up the British parliament, my dear." He replied, casting his eyes back on his crossword. "I was merely thinking out loud."

"With sixteen point seven pounds of strategically placed C-4 plastic explosives, I could blow up the Palace of Westminster. Twelve point three pounds for the White House. And for the hell of it, we'll throw in the Canadian Capital Hill…it'd take about thirteen…give or take, if you want the actual hill destroyed that would take extra." Echo stated.

The Riddler quirked a brow at her. "You never cease to amaze me."

As he said this something black fell into the path of the car, causing Echo to slam on the brakes.

From the backseat Query launched into the space between the front seat passengers, up over the back of the bench seat in the front, halted by the Riddler who caught her before she slammed into the dashboard.

"Seatbelts save, my dear." He stated.

Pushing back her hair and replacing her stiff beaked police cap, she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, boss."

Grabbing his cane, he opened the car door. "Keep it idling." He commanded, moving around the open door to kneel at the side of the black form, leaning on his cane. "The middle of the street is not the best place to take respite, Selina."

Beneath his feet the pavement trembled and the Riddler looked up and over to find a large, bulky form barrelling down the street towards them.

"Bane," she pointed out, climbing to her feet shakily.

"I see that." He replied, holding her by her elbow to keep her steady. "Well, get in and get down."

Taking aim with his cane, he looked down the length of it.

"A trick cane isn't going to stop him," she growled. "The man's an animal when he's on the juice."

Pressing the little button on the side of the handle, Edward shot a netting of metal cable over the form of Bane. "It'll slow him down. Get in the car, my dear." He led her to the open door and pushed her in as Bane struggled with the netting, it didn't take long for him to tear it to shreds, but by then Echo had the Buick going full tilt in reverse. She pulled a bootleg turn and floored it, leaving the hulking man in the dust.

Straightening his tie, the Riddler smiled smugly at the woman in PVC who sat between Echo and himself in the front. She was beaten, but nothing a little make up wouldn't cover.

"I didn't need your help, Eddie." She growled.

"It's Edward, my dear, and if you want we can drive you right the hell back."

Glancing coolly at him, she sighed. "Don't think this means I owe you one."

"I'd never call in a favour for rescuing a damsel in distress," he objected. "That's just tacky."

She sneered. "Ugh, drop me off here, I'd rather take my chances at having my limbs ripped off then sit here with you being smug."

Motioning to Echo to pull over, the Riddler smirked as Catwoman hesitated. Behind the car Bane was catching up fast, his powerful muscles thrusting him closer faster.

"Keep driving." She sighed heavily.

Edward motioned for Echo to drive on, a tiny triumphant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Saturday, Now

Holding his morning tea to his bottom lip, he eyed the cat across from him with narrowed eyes.

"You can't stay here forever." Edward said.

She blinked.

"I mean it." He stated. Taking a sip of his tea, he watched as the fluffy calico turned tail on him and hopped down from the table to scurry off into his bedroom. Turning to his right, he eyed the black cat on the chair at his side. "The nerve of some women. Has a litter in my closet and can't even be bothered to pick up half of the rent."

Narrowing it's eyes, the cat hunched it's shoulders and began hacking wetly.

Disgusted, Edward turned his attention to his left where a grey and white cat lay on the chair there.

"You're the only one, Chairman Mao, who doesn't grate on my nerves."

His personal favourite, rolled onto his back for a belly rub, which Edward blessed him with gratefully, before pushing to his feet, sipping his tea. He paused by the sink, pushing an orange tabby off the counter, before setting his empty cup down.

"Try not to wreck the place." He commanded the apartment full of cats.

All he got in response was more wet hacking from somewhere in the hall.

Inside his Buick, he eyed the low rent apartment building, waiting for something to prove there were living things dwelling somewhere within the crumbling brick.

On a small travel sized TV on the floor of his passenger side a quiz show played, Edward wasn't watching, but he was answering idly to pass the time.

Ottoman forces defeated the Safavids at this famous battle, gaining control of eastern Anatolia and northern Iraq in 1514.

"What is the Battle of Chaldiran?" Edward muttered, hiding a yawn politely.

What is the Battle of the Northern Ridge?

"Philistine."

The passenger door opened and closed silently. "Why do you even bother, Edward?"

Eyeing the tall, lanky form of Jonathan Crane, Edward pulled a face. "It keeps me sharp. How'd you find me?"

This is a psychedelic hallucinogenic drug of the tryptamine family that has a unique aural effect.

Sighing deeply, Edward motioned to Crane for him to go ahead and answer.

"Diisopropyltryptamine." The Scarecrow said.

What is Dimethyltryptamine?

"What is this world coming to when people can't get DiPT and DMT straight?"

"What do you want, Crane?"

The tall, lanky man shifted his form in the seat and sighed. "A man can't visit with an old friend, Edward?"

At the Riddler's long, even look, Crane scowled.

"Ivy finally had her brat kid." He muttered an added, "who knew half plant people took longer to gestate..."

"And you were so excited about it that you felt the need to track me down to inform me of this?"

"Harley's been squealing for three hours. The lair was becoming unsafe to my mental health." The Scarecrow scowled deeply then. "It's a natural born instinct in a woman to desire a child of their own once they're presented with the reality of someone they know having one. It's called the 'maternal chain of events', in which one woman out of a group of women will get pregnant and her female companions will eventually begin turning their sights on children of their own. Thanks to Ivy, I can look forward to a hormonally charged Harley doing random acts of horror just to obtain a child."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Edward turned his head to eye the Scarecrow. "Random acts of horror?"

"Well, there's no way in hell I'm having sexual congress with her now, who knows what she may try in effort to get pregnant."

"Sounds to me like the Purveyor of Fear, is himself, afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid, have you ever seen an infant? They squeal and they squirm and they project their bodily fluids at an alarming rate at the most inopportune times…they're chubby little versions of people with tiny fingers and no hair and teeth. They're like…squirming pot roasts…and just you wait until they discover they can scream, because then they do it just for the fun of seeing your brain melt..."

"You're paranoid, Jonathan."

"Am I?"

"Yes. You most definitely are."

"Mark my words, Edward, the birth rate among females connected to Poison Ivy in Gotham's underground will rise." Crane pointed out, eyeing the building before them. "None of us will be safe once the chain of events is set in motion."

Edward's brow rose curiously. "The 'maternal chain of events' sounds like something you just made up."

"Of course I made it up, I first coined the phrase in my university thesis 'A Study of the Female Mind', believe me, Edward, I know what I'm talking about." Studying the dashboard, the Scarecrow frowned. "Do you always drive Buicks?"

"Only by chance. This, my dear Crane, is a rare 1971 Buick Riviera in British racing green. Isn't she a thing of beauty?"

"I could care less, I was attempting small talk." The man sniffed contemptuously. "I need you to get in contact with an old friend."

"So you do need something." Edward replied. "Well, you know the price."

"I shall 'owe you one', I know the price. You remember the terms of our agreement when we set the price." Crane snarled, flicking a piece of lint off of the forearm of his tweed suit jacket.

"Of course."

Reaching for his coffee cup, Edward held it in his hands for a moment, enjoying the warmth it provided. "What do you need?"

"Something only the Clock King can provide. But since he's playing well with others, he won't cooperate with someone like me."

Taking a sip, Edward relished the bitter brew mingled with the creamy sweet, before nodding. "Alright, but only because we're old friends, Crane."

That night, sitting up in his bed, his head bowed to a book, Edward found his attention on anything other than the words. His eyes kept darting to Chairman Mao at the foot of his bed, bathing himself, then over to the closet where the sounds of mewling could be heard, then to the window and back to the book.

He couldn't seem to focus, his mind was too wrapped up in what Crane had said. If half of what he said was even close to being true, could Selina very well be thinking of babies? Of course not, she wasn't the type! But still… No, he'd look into it tomorrow. Check the facts before he panicked. If he knew Crane, the bastard was probably just trying to spread fear among the male populace in Gotham's underground. Yes, of course, that was all.

Again his eyes made the path from the book, to Chairman Mao, to the closet, to the window and back.

But if the Scarecrow was telling the truth…

"Eddie?"

The Riddler twitched nervously, his head swivelling to the side so fast it hurt.

Selina Kyle stood there at the side of the bed in her Catwoman costume, looking amused. She looked rough, her costume battered, but she still managed to look amused.

"Good heavens, Lina, you can't sneak up on me like that…I'm nearing forty." He scolded, touching a hand to his chest.

Removing her diamond tipped gloves, she purred. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you were pretty deep in thought."

He held up the book. "Hobbes," he explained, before setting it aside. "What are you doing, my dear?"

Looking up from where she was arranging her gloves and boots on a chair in the corner of the room, she smirked. "Getting undressed for bed."

"You were here last night." He pointed out.

"Can't a girl come back two nights in a row?" She asked, unzipping her bodysuit.

Edward eyed the toned plains of her torso as it was revealed, grimacing at the large purpley-black bruise to her side. "Fighting, were we?" He tsked as she shed the bodysuit to reveal more lacerations and bruises.

She eyed the big bruise, arm raised ever so slightly. "It'll heal."

Pushing to his feet with a long suffering sigh, he moved down the hall and into the bathroom, retrieving his muscle rub. Coming back into the bedroom, he found her easing onto the bed in her underwear, holding her ribs.

"Are they broken?" He asked, kneeling before her.

"No, just bruised."

Setting aside the rub, he reached out for the bruise. "Let me see."

Hissing as he touched her side, he saw her leg jerk, about to kick him out of pure reflex.

"Careful," he warned softly. "I think you may have gotten lucky this time. But I'll still bandage them up."

Pushing to his feet, he watched as she struggled to lie back on the bed. Towering over her broken and battered body, he tilted his head at her vulnerability, before leaning down gingerly to press a kiss to her lips.

As he pulled away, he caught her smiling, her eyes closed in contentment. "Thanks, Ed." Painfully pushing to her feet, she headed for the hall. "I'm going for a shower before you strap me in. Do you mind?"

"I'd rather you did." He replied.

Shooting him a warning glance on her way out of the room, she left him to his thoughts once more.

"Lina?" He asked later that night as she draped herself over top of him, mindful of her bruised ribs.

"Hn?"

"Did you happen to hear about Ivy?"

She smirked. "She had her baby. A boy named Victor. Eight pounds, three ounces, he's perfectly healthy and normal...except for the fact he's got chlorophyll coursing through his veins."

"Yes. I heard all about him."

She pushed up slowly, bridging herself over his body to eye him in the near darkness. "What's the matter? You sound odd."

He frowned at her. "Well, if you must know, I think anything related to Ivy is going to grow up to be a pain in my ass."

Smiling, she splayed herself out over top of him again. "I'm sure he'll get some of his father's good sense."

"One can only hope."

Studying the ceiling above their heads, he floundered for a delicate way to put his next inquiry. "You…you're not really a…motherly type, are you?"

"Hm, maybe someday." Again she pushed up to look at him, staring down at him long and hard and then suddenly she beamed crookedly. "Ohhh, you talked to Crane, didn't you?"

"How…?"

Beaming at him, she moved up his body so that they were nose to nose. "I had lunch with Harley, she said she brought up the subject of babies and ever since Crane's been…weird…er than normal. I swear, you're shaking!"

"I'm not shaking!"

Grabbing his wrist, she held his hand up. "You're shaking!"

"It's a natural tremor, I've had it since youth." He argued.

"Um-hm, why's your heart beating so fast, Ed?"

Snatching back his hand, he frowned. "It's a defect, I'd thank you not to make mention of it."

Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his chest and settled back down.

"It's…" he pursed his lips. "It's just that I wouldn't be a good father."

"Oh, why do you figure that?"

"Because my father was the devil."

"Eddie, you'd be smart enough, should you ever have a child, to know that if you do the opposite of what he'd do, you'd be a pretty damned good father. Plus you build toys and love games."

"Go to sleep, Lina."

Rolling over, she used his shoulder as a pillow. "Don't worry, Ed, I have no desire to have a child any time soon." She was silent for a moment, before adding, "and certainly not with you. Wouldn't want to sully the gene pool."

"Keep that up, my dear, and I'll fertilize you out of spite."

"Oh, so reverse psychology does work…" she teased.

"You're still joking, right?" He asked.

"Quiet, Ed, I'm trying to sleep."

After he was certain she had fallen asleep, she muttered.

"Peter O'Toole," into his shoulder.

He peered down at the top of her head. "I'm sorry, did I fall asleep? Were we in the middle of a conversation?"

Smiling against his skin, Selina explained. "It was bothering me for the longest time. I couldn't think of why you looked so familiar."

"It may be because we've met previously."

Looking up at him, she smiled. "I mean, your looks are familiar, because you look like a young Peter O'Toole."

Frowning a little, Edward played with her hair. "How many painkillers did you take, my dear?"