Hush2.0: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you appreciate my getting Croc's real name in there. Don't worry about Jervis, he'll be in it much later for a bit and I already knew his name wasn't spelled Jarvis :D. I did extensive research, in addition to my already comprehensive knowledge. Thanks again!
Athulis: Thanks for the review :D. I too think that Harley or Ivy are good pairings for Scarecrow, they both work and maybe ill write some stories like that sometime. Who knows? maybe there will be some hints that Crane has been paired with her before in this story ;). But when you think about it, most of the characters are so interchangeable and work. You needn't worry about this story turning into some kind of Mary Sue story, I'm keeping it dark yet retaining the elements of classic Batman. The reason such great characters like Scarecrow exist is because of people like us who envision this comic universe not being a fairy tale, so try not to lose hope in the Scarecrow fan-base.
Spittlebug: Thank you very much for such an intellectual and insightful review. Ironically, it usually takes me awhile to describe things, I have a bit of difficulty at times writing down what I see happening in my head, the imagery. I take my time when it comes to these things though, and the final product usually turns out alright. I appreciate you liking my Scarecrow, I decided early on when writing that it was important to establish that this guy is a villain, and giving him his own characteristics. There isn't going to be a typical "oh, I've been completely cured of my insanity, now i can go on and lead a perfect life" type of resolutions in the end. I'm writing about a deeply tragic, complex and evil villain here, who's degenerating, ravaged mind will be shown soon in the course of the story. Gotham is a city of insanity, but also one with hope. I'm happy that you liked I was able to interest a normally Marvel preferring person. I personally love certain things about both Marvel and DC, and don't understand why they need to be rivals. There are countless stories that could be thought of if they just dropped the arguing and got together. They have such awesome universes where all kinds of possibility's are available. My pairing is indeed unusual, I like doing things that haven't been done before in the course of showing my vision. Hopefully i can inspire more to do the same. Thanks again!
Anarchy: Thanks, glad you like it :). Originality is something I strive for in a story.
I'm happy my first chapter was so well received, thank you all for the favorites and reviews :D i means a lot. This next one will be a little different, specifically because it will involve the start of major interaction, which is one of my favorite themes, and I hope my ideas of how things could go for Catwoman/Scarecrow will be liked. I'm starting to establish ideas and other themes that will be explored later in the story. Just to note though, while the pairing is pretty unique, there were a couple older Catwoman comics that had Catwoman and Scarecrow fighting, and talking a bit. I used some of this as an inspiration. So, without further ado, here you are :) :
Crane nearly toppled backwards out of his chair as if a jolting current of electricity had passed throughout his gangly body.
Reacting in a split second on instinct, he dropped his notebook down on the table top, gently kicked the suitcase containing his Fear Toxins further underneath the table to keep them out of sight. Reaching for the Scythe he had recently cleaned from where it lay against the table, he snatched it up in both long fingered hands. The raggedy dressed villain stood bolt upright and spun around to face the dark, feminine figure standing a few meters behind him while fumbling at the same time to turn off the recording device. His dark eyes widened with utter shock as he surveyed who the intruder, was.
The doctor's tense jaw clenched tightly with complete bewilderment.
What in the...
The slender woman wore a skin tight, black latex full body suit. Despite covering her up entirely, it's tightness showed off the smooth contours of her amazingly well toned body, right down to the inward bellybutton and particularly her upper chest area. Clearly the woman had worked out quite a bit. She looked even stronger and more fit then the previous time at Arkham that Crane had seen her... even back then she had already been very athletic in appearance. There was no grossly rippling muscles protruding through the latex either, but a powerful figure that remained feminine.
In the faint glow of the light, her outfit struck Crane as looking almost like a glistening layer of black glass instead of an actual outfit. She stood casually beside a now open window on the wall across the room to his right. The cold breeze rolled into the apartment, causing the window's long white curtains to shift slightly back and forth.
While Crane watched, she absent absentmindedly closed the window beside her without taking her glowing red, goggle covered eyes off the doctor. Water dripped off her frame from the stormy night outside. Her right gloved hand was resting comfortably on her curvy hip. There was a knowing smile on the exposed lower section of her attractive. Perched on the top of either side of her mask protruded a pair of thin, pointy catlike ears, made up of the same sleek latex as the outside of the suit.
The woman slowly placed the small, red tinted goggles on her eyes up to her masked forehead, revealing them fully. They were a deep and piercing, looking like they could stop a bullet in mid air with one stare. From her distance, however, he couldn't quite make out what color they were. She was an above average height young woman, seemingly in her late twenties and standing at least 5' 7". Crane wasn't sure how high the heels of her black, high heeled military style boots were, but they certainly would help with height. A long black bullwhip, it's end coiled on the floor was held loosely at her side in her left hand as if she had no intention of using it, or was even aware she had it. Around her latex covered neck, the doctor could see she wore some kind of a metal cat collar.
Long white stitches stood out in the dim light the room offered like vicious scars of varying sizes all over her sleek suit. They ran up, down and across her catsuit and even her mask at various random points, but were focused on her legs, arms and chest especially. One such stitching on her mask ran in two directions. It went from the forehead and moved all the way down where it ended on the latex above her left eyebrow and the latex above the tip of her nose.
Crane took a deep breath and regained his composure, yet was still unsure how to react to the intrusion, given he didn't know what her intentions were yet.
Is she here to kill me? I must not allow her to harm my work's progress!
"Hey stud, it looks like the cat got your tongue. Don't you have anything to say?", The woman asked, her tone still low and seductive. "Or are you just going to stand there gawking, instead of inviting a girl in?".
Somehow, he managed to find his voice. As he did so, another ripple of thunder growled outside the window, much closer this time. It seemed to travel right over top of the building until vanishing.
"It appears that you invited yourself in already", Scarecrow replied suddenly, with a start. His voice became a quiet, whispery rasp. "I don't like interruptions young woman".
"It appears that we both did... but I thought your home was a cell at Arkham", She teased coolly. "This is a little bigger then your usual cage, huh?".
What the hell is this?, Crane thought wildly, glancing about the room. The cold grip of anxiety was starting to seize his rapidly firing heart, as it always did for him when facing an unknown factor or sudden situation. Catwoman...here? Isn't she working with the little bat? Is he coming too?
"Miss Kyle...", the Scarecrow rasped out confusedly. His twitchy grip tightened on the scythe's long handle. "What are you doing in here? How dare you! Explain yourself!".
Selina Kyle stared calmly back at the rigid figure with faint amusement. She cocked an eyebrow, examining the tall, shabbily dressed and shockingly thin man in front of her, taking in every detail just as he had done. He looked skinner all over, raggedier then ever and even more weak in appearance then he had the last time she saw him in person, back at the asylum. The past months in that dungeon must have been pretty rough to him. She wouldn't forget what some of the guards had been like to the patients there. It looked as if a strong gust of wind could knock the man right off his feet. Her bright lips pursed ever so slightly.
His fading dark brown costume was heavily patched, sewn together with white stitching and frayed from overuse. The stitches ran over just about everything: legs, arms, stomach, chest... even his waist. The wide brimmed dark hat perched on his head looked in no better condition then the rest. He had even stitched an extra optional head-wear onto his outfit. Poking out the back of the collar was a small brown hood that he could raise over his head if his hat had been lost or wrecked.
Scarecrow's limbs were very gangly, long and delicate looking from where she stood. The unnaturally thin, spindly legs of his costume's pants had three dark straps with rusty metal buckles connecting around each of them. From how skinny he was, she had little doubt they were helping to keep the shabby trousers from falling down around his ankles. They had been fastened up high on the legs, and another larger strap was buckled and looped around his waistline.
Similar, yet thinner dark straps had been secured around his arms intricately, particularly his right arm, that seemed to possess a kind of rusty metal wrist gauntlet with five glowing yellow thin tubes running down it. The straps were fastened on his pale, bony, almost non existent looking biceps. Both of which were clearly visible due to large tears in the fabric. Only a few bits of the material and the intertwined straps held the sleeves and shoulder fabric together.
His obviously homemade...or asylummade to be more accurate, and improvised outfit was kind of interesting, she had to admit. It had clearly taken a lot more innovative thought and planning to create then her own had. He probably hadn't had the proper sewing equipment when putting it all together, unlike her own costume.
Her deep eyes moved up the frame of his frail body to the mask covering his entire head like an x-ray. It looked like a bizarre combination of an old gas mask, possessing twin metal nozzles, and a sinister stitched on face behind it. A long sewn up mouth portion in between the nozzles made it appear he was grinning maliciously like a Jack O' Lantern back at her, enjoying some kind of sick joke. It's mouth even seemed to pulse and reverberate as he spoke, adding to the odd effect it exuded. The eyes of the mask were very dark and deep as if no one was at home. At this distance, she couldn't see the eyes that lay behind. Around his neck hung a knotted and severed noose as if he'd been cut down from the gallows of some execution yard.
She slowly slunk a couple steps forward, causing him to recoil backwards and drawn in a cautious breath. She tilted her head. He had no idea what was in store for him.
"Relax Johnathan. You're wound up tight enough to pop right out of your costume...and please, call me Catwoman, won't you?", Catwoman insisted gently.
At that, she looked down at her own wet costume and smiled widely with her blood red, lipstick covered lips. Suddenly she started shaking herself enthusiastically, the water flew off in torrents onto the carpeted floor below. As she did so, there was the faint tinkering sound of her cat collar shaking and the zipper up by her neck clinking against the metal teeth. Despite this action, her sleek black frame fitting outfit remained fully soaked on the outside, the faint glow of the lamps bouncing off it.
Crane started to feel himself growing slightly awkward and uncomfortable at this unexpected and rapid movement of her body, along with her casual use of his first name. He was rarely called by that name, besides his prior doctors and Harley occasionally. Thankfully his full mask kept his uncomfortableness with the situation hidden. Right then anyways.
"Much better. Felines don't typically like the wet weather, but coming here was certainly worth it, I have to admit", she purred softly. Catwoman stared over at his rigid posture and smiled again. "Why so worried, doctor?"
Crane let himself resume breath slowly, but maintained a firm stare in her direction.
"I'm not. If you're here to rob the apartment, do not bother, Catwoman... I stole the place myself to complete my own work, and I need it. There's nothing here for you that is worth taking anyways", Scarecrow rasped out coldly.
"So I see", Catwoman replied, glancing around the apartment. She started moving about, running her hands over the various objects in the room, the small television set, the shabby couch and other things. She spoke softly as she walked about the apartment, her long vicious looking whip trailing behind her across the floor.
"Poor neighborhood around this district. So, I've heard it through the grapevine that you broke out of Arkham with Croc and Dent... murdered a few of those pig guards in the process. Nicely done Johnathan, that nuthouse is rather poor at holding in us villains, wouldn't you agree?"
Scarecrow cleared his throat at this objectively, drawing an unseen smile from the slender shadow.
"I wouldn't precisely call you a villain, young woman. That term seems inaccurate when applied to you. You might commit crimes and chaos behind a costume sometimes, but I've heard too of your vigilante work with the bat, along with your... relationship", the doctor stated icily, extending a long, accusatory finger in her wondering direction. He felt the stirrings of anxiety twisting in his stomach...he didn't like it. Why couldn't she just stand still? "You're probably here on his behalf for all I know, spying on me and my work, aren't you? Admit it".
Catwoman stopped what she was doing and turned back around, her smooth pale face full of complete wide eyed innocence.
"You don't trust me, Johnathan? That hurts my feelings. I'm simply like the rest of you, trying to make my way in the world. You don't need to worry so much, I think you've been out of the loop being cooped up at Arkham. Me and the Bat lost our connection months ago", She said calmly. There was no change in her casual tone. "Besides, I think he prefers spending his time trying to help Poison Ivy 'get better'... he spends a suspicious amount of time over there at the asylum visiting that green woman, some days when he isn't scouring the city, that is."
Scarecrow's thin face twisted in confusion under his mask at this surprising information. His unpleasant stirrings of anxiety were forgotten for a split second.
"Poison Ivy and the little bat?", He rasped incredulously, scratching the wide brim of his patchy hat without thinking. "You are kidding with me, certainly".
"Nope", Catwoman replied smiling. "A couple months ago he brought her back to Arkham after she tried to murder a construction CEO of of the city or something... a skyscraper designer named Trimbel, I think. She was mad about something plant related again no doubt. The next day he made sure she was relocated from her dark cell into a nicer one full of flowers and sunlight. I'm just surprised you didn't hear it from Quinn's gossip, she's Ivy's best friend, and you know how fast word travels around that place with her around".
Scarecrow had indeed heard Harley's gossip before actually. In fact, he had to hear it every single day back at Arkham. She was in the cell opposite to him. Regardless of this, Catwoman had to surely be exaggerating about that particular gossip.
"I've heard her gossip stories frequently", Scarecrow rasped with a dismissive shrug of his bony shoulders. "I merely tune it out when she gets quite into it. Harley is a wonderful child and a good friend. I like her, but she talks far too much at times. But that isn't important right now, you didn't answer my question: what are you doing here? How did you find me?".
Catwoman rested both hands against her slender hips now, a playful smirk touching the blood red lips. She glanced around the apartment, taking in all the details, then turned a pitying look over at Scarecrow.
"I don't see any of your dimwitted lackeys hanging around the place Johnathan... don't tell me you're all alone up here".
Scarecrow narrowed eyes flickered slightly. What concern could it be to her that he was alone? He decided to skip the story of his previous failed attempt at finding new henchman and chose to mention his previous one's before his last arrest.
"They're in Blackgate awaiting trials", he answered unconcernedly without elaborating beyond that. "Stop avoiding my simple question and answer".
"I came out here to give you a little company... and some fun, Mister Scarecrow", she replied slowly, throwing him a seductive wink. "Just like you came here to perform some of your 'fun' experiments".
Scarecrow's cautious stance relaxed a little more. With a low sigh, he reached down and cautiously spun the chair around to face Catwoman's direction. There was no way he was going to turn his back to her. He sat in his chair again, setting the scythe down against the table, close beside himself. Just in case.
"My work here is extremely difficult, young woman, it's far different from your definition of 'fun' ", Scarecrow rasped to her impatiently. He held out his hands, motioning to the entire front room and back to the equipment covered table. "I came here more to hide from the police. The real fun would be being the one releasing these toxins upon those filthy Gotham citizens... on a school perhaps. Instead I must sell these to one of the other villains so I can get out of this poor excuse for a building. My latest stay in Arkham has made me a rather poor man, as you can see. My work will be no easier with you here trying to distract and bother me either. I do not require 'company' ".
She didn't hear his last sentence.
"But that's just a part of the fun, Scarecrow, distracting and bothering you", Catwoman informed him, her piercing eyes noticing the small, tiled floor kitchen just past the living room.
She moved across the length of the living room and came to a stop in the kitchen at the dark fridge on her immediate left sitting beside a long counter. Catwoman opened the fridge door swiftly, fumbled around inside, knocking a few things over and then pulled out a white carton of milk.
"Do you mind Johnathan?", She asked loudly over her shoulder, but had tilted her head back and was already drinking from it before Scarecrow could answer.
Doctor Crane felt his brain growing more numb, if it were possible. He watched as she drank delightedly from the carton. What was this young woman doing here? He simply wasn't used to being in the company of a female outside of Arkham and it made him feel...alien. He was much more used to focusing solely on his work and being left well enough alone by the city's other villains. Even Joker usually left the doctor alone unless he wanted something.
None of this made any sense... but then again, when had anything made sense in his life? It seemed like things just kept getting weirder somehow.
"Mmm... that was... refreshing", Catwoman commented softly as she placed the milk carton back inside and closed the fridge. She wiped her lips sensually with the back of her hand. "Now, where were we? Hmm..."
Catwoman was starting to saunter away from the fridge, moving across the carpet and closer to Scarecrow now. There was an expression on her face that Crane couldn't quite determine. Seduction? Cunning? Crane wasn't sure. The psychology of fear was his field of expertise, not the expressions on others faces and their feelings, but he knew it was something. If he had to make a guess, she looked almost like a hunter eying it's prey before striking. A knot of fear twisted in his stomach as he watched her gleaming eyes.
I had better head her off before she tries anything...
"You were leaving", Crane informed her awkwardly, in his haste accidentally letting his voice becoming less raspy through the filters.
He shifted his thin frame uncomfortably and motioned over to the apartment's front door across the room. A long dark cord ran in front of the locked door and all the way up to another Scythe being held up tightly near the ceiling by the cord. It would have been quite messy if she'd not entered through the window.
"And kindly go back out through the window, as you can see I placed a trap on the front door in case the police try to surprise me. I might need it. I don't want prying eyes looking at or stealing my progress. So... well, yes. Anyways, you may leave now, young woman".
To Crane's surprise, she didn't. Defiance wasn't something he was used to getting. Usually his name alone would send countless people fleeing...but he didn't seem to have that effect on her. Rather then obey Crane, she continued to step forward to where he sat at the table.
She's insane!, Crane thought blankly. Why-
"Ohh, it sounds like you've lost your big 'scary', raspy voice, hmm? I didn't see you taking a cough drop or anything", Catwoman teased softly. She moved ever closer across the carpeted floor, finally coming to a steady stop in front of Crane's occupied chair. She placed both her hands on either side of his bony shoulders, much to his surprise. "Using your cute, nervous doctor's voice? No, I don't think I was going anywhere Johnathan. I came here for a reason, you know".
Before he knew what was happening, she had had sat down on, and had slid her bottom smoothly across his knees and into his lap, raising both her legs up. She looped a slender yet powerful right arm up and around the back of his neck. Her gloved hand started to stroke the back of his masked head rhythmically, clearly enjoying herself.
Scarecrow's tense jaw slowly dropped agape as her face came to a stop within mere inches of his own masked one, his arms were laying stiffly at his side. Her bright eyes seemed to pierce right through his dark one's, as if seeing the face hidden on the other side. He finally could spot the color tone her pupils possessed, being an attractive yet eerie shade of turquoise. It felt as if they were piercing the very thoughts that lay in his brain behind his own shadowed eyes. The eyelids themselves slowly closed halfway, taking on a gentle, pleading look that made him feel small.
"Please don't send a poor kitty back out there in the cold", Catwoman purred softly, tightening her grip around the doctor. Her shapely body hugged ever closer into the doctor's thin chest.
If she really was cold, she was showing no sign of it. Then again, perhaps the catsuit acted as a wetsuit too, with an insulated interior or some such thing.
The doctor clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard, taken off balance. He was being trapped in the pair of spotlights that were her eyes. As he stared back in mute surprise, his conflicted mind became blank, simply unable to process what was happening. He didn't send her back outside. Catwoman quickly took advantage of his loss of words and continued forward.
"It's been such a long time since I've seen you, Johnathan dear", Catwoman purred happily. Again, she tightened her warm embrace ever so slightly around his neck, causing Scarecrow's pounding heart to skip a beat. "Almost a year now. I missed you, you know. How have you been keeping lately big boy?"
The masked villain swallowed hard, taking a deep, steadying breath. She had missed him? 'Big boy'? Nonsense alien words. He barely even had had much contact with her in his life! What the hell was she talking about? He was pencil thin for Christ's sake, how did that equate to big?
"Why do you keep referring to me by that...name? 'Johnathan'?", Scarecrow rasped with genuine bewilderment. "It's Scarecrow."
"Oh but it hasn't always been", Catwoman answered without any hesitation. "It's your real name, isn't it?"
Unable to find the proper words, Scarecrow chose not to argue the point further, letting it go for the moment along with a low, shaky breath. The young woman in his lap smiled victoriously and continued.
"Now, how have you been keeping, Johnathan?", she asked, placing extra, gloating emphasis upon his name.
"Alive", Scarecrow managed to rasp uncomfortably. His mask's dark pupils darted back and forth anxiously... and apparently she was close enough to his mask to see this. "So far"
"You aren't used to this, are you?", asked Catwoman, now whispering seductively. It didn't seem to be a question, more a genuine factual statement. She leaned her face even closer, if it were possible. Her lips were now barely an inch in front of the sewn up mouth of his mask as she spoke. A bead of warm sweat was starting to form on his forehead as he watched them move slowly.
"Used to what?", Scarecrow whispered back awkwardly. To his own surprise, his right hand laying at his side betrayed him and started to twitch nervously. He clenched it into a ball to keep her from seeing as much. "Costumed women breaking into my hideouts? No, I'm not. The only kind who breaks in to see me is usually an over sized rat whose sadism equals my own."
Catwoman let out a pretty, tittering laugh that made Scarecrow feel even more nervous. It carried like a beautiful melody through the air into his welcoming ears beneath the mask. He hadn't heard a laugh quite like that in his life...there was something appreciative to it.
"No no Johnathan, not that.", She whispered back warmly. The gorgeous masked woman blinked her dark, mascara covered eyelashes at him with a deeply rooted sensuality in the eyes themselves. As he stared into them, he couldn't help thinking they held a strange note of hypnosis and control that even Hugo Strange would envy. Her voice's tone grew rather thoughtful. "I meant you must not be used to a strong woman paying attention to you like this... one who actually knows what she wants from a man and isn't afraid to go out and get it. You might be insane and evil... but you're certainly no Joker, are you? You're still a real man, one with some clear desires... I can see it, no matter how well you try hiding them behind your obsessions and work."
"I do not have any idea what you're talking-
"Tell me something Johnathan... won't you? Are you intimidated by me? Is it because of my body?"
With that, she grinned widely, the bright blinding whites of her teeth flashing, and snuggled even closer to the villain paralyzed in her comfortable embrace around his bony shoulders.
Crane's eyebrows, that had been rising previously, narrowed sharply at these wry toned questions. He could feel his hollowed cheeks slowly burning red with aghast embarrassment as anxiety slammed through his body. His mind finally caught up with him and he cursed himself for losing his voice previously. The doctor simply wasn't used to having this seductive type of attention. It made him feel...weak.
Doesn't she even know who I am? I fear nothing!
"I'm not scared of anything!", Crane insisted loudly, his voice achieving a higher, almost dramatic pitch through the mask's filters. His eyes bulged widely underneath the sinister mask as he spoke. "I spread the fear! I am the God Of Fear! The Scarebeast! The Lord of Terror and Despair! I am nothing like those... pathetic male creatures who live out there polluting the city with their very presence! Or those so called 'doctors' and 'scientists' at the university who's methods are hopelessly limited! I am the true genius of this city! All citizens of Gotham will face their worst nightmares, a hell on earth, once I-
There was a loud crack as Catwoman, in one instantaneous moment, snapped her twelve foot long bullwhip up in the air over their heads with the arm not wrapped around Crane. It instantly struck the doctor silent, ending his angry, anxious rant and made him recoil underneath her powerful frame in surprise and renewed anxiety. The cord fell back down to the floor in a coil, the handle still held tightly.
"You're all talk, 'Scarebeast'. You've been suffering delusions of grandeur from the sounds of it", Catwoman whispered sensually to the thin man, smiling mischievously. "Your work has you paranoid, isolated, wound up far too tight and away from the real world that lays out there beyond your microscopes. I think I can help you with that problem".
Scarecrow felt the beads of sweat starting on his brow progressing. He couldn't help stealing a glance downwards, noticing again that her costume was indeed rather... well fitting. To say the least. It was difficult not to notice with her huddled up tightly against him like this. Her body looked very strong, yet it was a shapely feminine frame at the same time.
The way that the smooth black latex hugged tightly over her large breasts, revealing every...- the doctor quickly reached a tattered gloved hand and adjusted his noose again uncomfortably as a mental distraction. He shook his head, attempting to clear it of the newly forming, shamefully animalistic and primitive thoughts he simply wasn't used to having. He felt feelings stirring, one's long buried for the sake of maintaining rationality of the mind. Why on earth was he thinking this way?
Above all, he hoped beyond everything that she couldn't feel the steadily stiffening organ beneath the zipper of his shabby, buckle covered pants. His hollow cheeks seemed to blaze hotter then the sun with shame, beneath that ever present maliciously grinning scarecrow mask.
I should have kept my damned coat on, Crane thought to himself wearily.
"I...I don't need any help, I just don't need a... well, a latex dressed crazy cat lady in here...groping me...", He insisted awkwardly, biting at his dry lower lip neurotically. "I'm a scientist, young lady! I, well-
Catwoman smiled to herself. Crane wasn't just a master of fear, he was also a confused man who obviously had minuscule to no real experience talking this way to the opposite sex. It was pretty ironic, the Scarecrow was easily frightened and shy of seductive women, whether he would admit to it or not. Much to her further delight, she could feel an obvious swelling now occurring in his lap. It was digging against the tight waistline of her catsuit, but she said nothing of it.
Feeling assured of her dominance, the young woman pressed her obvious advantage again. This was far too easy.
"You're not exactly the model of sanity either, Johnathan", Catwoman replied wryly. She removed the arm from around his neck and slid smoothly off his lap, standing up slowly and being sure to take her time.
There was another odd feeling rising in him now. Crane felt slightly... disappointed, as she got up. Why? She was of no importance to him and never had been. He forced the foreign feelings aside for the moment as he watched her rising.
"I'm here now Mister Scarecrow. Being a scientist has nothing nothing to do with this... I think I know what you need. You clearly haven't had too many women around in your life, have you?".
"Would you get out of here? Please-
Catwoman paid no attention to his confused words. He was rapidly losing his conviction. She simply stepped past his chair and started to examine his vast array of chemical formulas and equipment laying on the table.
"This is your work?", Catwoman asked him playfully. "It look's interesting"
Forcing back a fresh wave of awkwardness, Crane grasped this opportunity and forced back his professional attitude. It was easy, given his attachment to his work. He clutched at the chance to discuss his progress to a pair of ears that would listen. He stood up uncomfortably and turned away from her sight for a moment, adjusting his pants. Thank god the costume hid everything so well in a standing position. She probably hadn't felt it. Crane rubbed his shoulder, took a step past the chair and joined her over at the table. He motioned down at his work with a gloved hand.
"As you can see before you young lady, I'm getting far in my progress here. Those butchers at Arkham tried to make me stop my experiments, but had little success. Though, that's hardly surprising. I don't think they've 'cured' a single person since they started that place up", Crane commented, his tone serious. "They've probably started hiring doctors who plagiarized their papers off greater men then themselves".
Catwoman continued to slink nimbly around the width of the table, speaking clearly as she moved.
"Who's your doctor back there Johnathan?", She asked, not taking her eyes off the table. "Mine used to be Wilson... she tried convincing me this costume wasn't 'healthy' and not to wear it... good luck on that happening. The costume is half the thrill you know".
Crane smirked to himself snidely and stared down at his work.
I may as well keep talking... she'll probably get bored of me much quicker and leave.
"I've had Wilson, West and Young", he rasped back. "Young is a naive little girl who thinks she understands her work, I often have to lecture her on what the mind truly is. West is no better, the shock therapy's he give me are far too ineffective. I simply have to keep critiquing his work. Wilson, though, I shan't be surprised when Zsasz ends up cutting her to pieces."
He shook his masked head bitterly.
"Three doctors?", Catwoman asked smoothly. Her piercing turquoise eyes shot up and held him for a moment, transfixed. "I'm impressed. You must keep them very busy".
"Very much so. A doctor must be able to handle being busy when you work at Arkham..so I do my part like the others.", Scarecrow rasped. He leaned over the table, replaced the sample under the microscope with a new one laying inside a clear dish and carefully observed it through the lens. "The patients at Arkham did the same to me when I worked there in-between teaching at the university. Why were you sent to the Asylum, Miss Kyle? I never understood that. Last time I checked you were usually a regular at Blackgate like Cobblepot or Bane".
Unseen to Scarecrow, Catwoman shrugged as if it were of no account.
"They must have decided to start keeping the costumed freaks together at Arkham", She reasoned coolly. "I agreed to a deal that would send me there instead of Blackgate for five to ten years. Sharp probably wants to prove himself by 'curing' all of us costumed criminals... that would be great for his reputation. I'm sure you know how much he'd like to beat Hill in the next election."
The slender woman came to a stop beside Crane after having circled the length of the table. She knelt low beside the microscope and picked up a bubbling formula from the table, surveying it with a crooked smile. Her gaze dropped again to the cluttered table, specificity to the tattered black notebook. With her other hand, she picked it up too. Scarecrow moved his face away from the sample on the microscope and looked over to her.
"What are these?", She asked curiously, staring back into his grinning mask. The seductive young woman carefully flipped through the notebook, examining his eccentric scrawl on the wrinkled, yellowing pages. "Your research notes or something?"
Crane's eyes bulged again as he watched her hold the bubbling green formula, realizing what it was. All professional pretense flew right out the window. His mind was instantly filled by a flood of anxiety and terror.
"Don't you dare touch those!", He shouted wildly, standing up and waving his arms up and down. "They are key component to producing my fear toxins! This is my finest work in so many months! Trapped in that wicked asylum with nothing to make, no test subjects... it nearly rotted my mind and wasted my talents!".
He desperately moved forwards and reached for it. Before his hand could make contact with the glass, however, Catwoman had snapped the book shut and gracefully moved around the other side of the table. She glanced behind her, noticing the other rain flecked window on the wall of her side of the table. Crane watched her eyes narrow upon it, reading her likely thoughts with shock.
Catwoman turned back to Crane, a delightful and wicked smile forming on her ghostly face. She reached behind herself and quickly slid the window up with a bang, the bitter, cold air entering the room like a wave of ice. Crane watched in horror as the slender figure took another step back and extended both her arms outside, holding the formula and notebook through the window and exposing it to downpour of rain. Water dripped off the cover of the book, much to his chagrin.
She glanced back over her toned shoulder at the tense man with the fingers of his gloves tightened fearfully.
"Oh!...I think I'm onto something here, aren't I?", Catwoman asked, a thin eyebrow arched. "You're starting to unwind a little, let out your feeling with your hard work in danger".
Beads of sweat started to slide down Crane's forehead underneath the mask and his jaw clenched. He attempted to reason with her, if it were possible. Negotiation had never been one of the doctor's strong points.
"No! Don't you dare drop it or I'll...- I mean, well, I need that to...you see-
But she would have none of it.
"This is where the the good part starts, Crane", Catwoman interrupted him, her tone playful. The shining glow in her eyes almost seemed brighter. "Villains need it too, and there are so many ways for us to have fun".
"That's years of research! You can't just-
With a slight tilt of her head, Catwoman's chalky pale face smiled at the gangly villain darkly.
"Can't I?"
"Wait, no!"
Before Doctor Crane could open his mouth to speak again, he watched in mute, paralyzed horror as she let go of the valuable mixture, his best work. The glass mixing bottle plummeted down into the wet parking lot four story's down, and shattered into a thousand pieces as it impacted, spilling its contents and shards all over the cold pavement.
In a flash, she had thrown open both sides of his dark notebook, tore out the pages roughly in one pull and threw them out right after the formula. The yellowing pages fluttered down every which way from one another. Some littered the parking lot, falling on to various murky puddles, while most traveled on the breeze. The high winds would eventually carry the soaking wet, ruined papers all across Gotham city.
"NO!", Crane thundered through his mask. His single rage filled word carried through the entire floor and illicited another nasty smile from the latex covered woman.
Moving forward, doctor Crane tore frantically around the side of the table to Catwoman's side and shoved his head out the window, his mouth gaping open wide as he spotted his shattered sample at the bottom of the apartment building. It was too late. He stood frozen in the window, the rain dripping down his hat and onto his mask and he gripped the window frame tightly.
It had taken so long to complete, and both pieces of work had been key for producing the other toxin samples. He'd have to start rewriting the notes from scratch by searching his brain for the answers. He'd have to reproduce the toxins all over again and there probably wouldn't be enough time at this hideout.
Bright sparks started to form in the depths of his mind. Crane slowly turned to face the pale, latex covered woman at his side, and she started laughing delightfully at him.
"You-
"Do you see what I mean? It's fun, causing you all this trouble... plus you're far too cowardly to do anything about it...aren't you?", she managed to interrupt through gales of laughter. "Ichabod".
There was a mocking, knowing smile forming on those smooth red lips at the last word.
This completely unexpected and needless reminder of his childhood tormentors was the final straw for Crane. A flashing torrent, memories of his bullying experiences reminded him of his sickly twisted 'great grandmother', neglectful 'mother', cowardly 'father' and all the others, a suffocating horde of tormentors he'd encountered in the course of his life. It made the sparks erupt in Crane's mind, turning all thoughts into a raging river of molten uncontrollable fire. Everything in the apartment seemed to become blocked out from his vision, apart from this taunting costumed woman in front of him, laughing wildly at him and his ruined work.
A voice came to him, then. As it had been doing for years now, slithering through the depths of his thoughts, rising to the surface of his mind and whispering a single word in his ear with that inhumanly cruel voice belonging to it. He welcomed it. His thoughts quickly formed into a one simple act and he let that rasping whisper guide the next action his body took.
Attack.
And so, there you go everybody, the end of Ch 2 :D. It looks like things are going to get a little... uh, bloody, for our 'hero'. Just as a note, the Batman and Poison Ivy thing (more of which will come into play) comes from an amazing and underrated one shot comic book about the two and their relationship. It's called 'Batman and Poison Ivy: Cast Shadows', and I highly recommend reading it. For my Catwoman, Michelle Pfieffer's version in Batman Returns was a huge inspiration, being my favorite. ;) Thanks again, any reviews and thoughts are much appreciated :D.
