Everything had gone according to plan. Batman showed up; he caused quite a rise in Edward, but they were just words, right? Nothing more. Somehow, Batman seemed to always get the best of him. How could one man be versatile in so many things? It is almost impossible; he did not think impossible was in the Bat's vocabulary.

Just with a few simple lines and maybe a glare or two the man easily made his head hurt with the fact that he could not help his obsession with riddles. But like always, the Bat is right. He can't help it; he knows he has a problem, but at least he has enough sense to admit that he does. That would basically mean he's not insane . . . right?

After the Bat left, Edward mostly stayed to himself. He now sits at the bar, his elbows propped on the counter top with his head in one of his hands. A 5th of scotch sat near him, but he barely even touched it; unlike his father who would've drank three quarters of the bottle by now. He narrowed his eyes at the thought of his old man.

'The Bastard', he only had that one thought about the man who "raised" him. That is when he finally took a drink of the scotch.

Caught up in his own thoughts he barely even noticed the sudden presence at his left side. He set down the small glass that rested near his lips and cut his eyes to the left.

"Ms. Mason", he said acknowledging her.

The young woman leaned her back against the bar with her arms crossed over her chest; a sincere smile tugged at her lips.

"Mr. Nygma, please call me Brenda. I hate formality."

A chuckle left him as he turned his body only slightly to face her. He preferred to speak to people while looking at them, not looking away from them.

"First name basis already? I'm flattered. But skipping your hated formalities call me Edward. Mr. Nygma was my father", it was only a partial lie; his father's real last name was Nashton. "I never liked my father."

"I'm sorry." There was nothing sickly sympathetic in her voice like most people would sound when apologizing. People who sounded that way, he knew, were the ones who freely tossed around the famous phrases "I'm sorry", or "I apologize". Though, this woman did not have that sound in her voice that made him want to vomit. Her voice was flat and placid, and when she said it her brown eyes caught his masked ones, looking dead on.

"S'okay", he brought the glass back to his lips, "Dead anyways."

Only slightly did the side of his lips turn up in amusement as he took another drink. Brenda noticed this and playfully rolled her eyes, "You seem pretty beat up about it."

At that his grin grew and he turned fully towards the young woman. Edward propped his head up on the palm of his hand; his hazel eyes scanned Brenda. With a grin still on his face and a dark eyebrow cocked he asked her,

"What is it you want, Brenda?"

The question caught her off guard, but only by a little. She too turned fully around and took a step closer as she stared up into his masked hazel eyes. She had wondered what they looked like ever since she saw him. Were they green like his suit? What about blue like her dress or Callie's eyes? How about pretty hazel eyes? Then questions like "how big are they" came up in her mind. Were his eyes a soft, innocent ones, or hard and analyzing? Brenda had the urge to reach out and remove the purple domino mask.

She also rested her chin in her hand; the batting of her sharp eyes was slow,

"I want to see your eyes."

Edward raised an eyebrow again and pursed his lips. For a long moment they shared a gaze in silence. The silence was not an awkward one, quite the opposite; it was actually wanted. A smirk then rested on his face as he brought the almost empty glass of scotch to his lips,

"I don't take my mask off in public; it's part of my contract with, Baxter", he sighed as he remembered the contract he had signed not too long ago. Actually as soon as he got out of Arkham; it was like the man was waiting for him. "Turns out he would like me to be the Riddler twenty- four seven."

The grin that tugged at his lips held an air of arrogance to it, "Not that I mind, of course."

Brenda smiled and snickered a little bit. She sighed while looking up to him through thick lashes, 'This man is so adorable.'

"If that is the case then, why don't we go somewhere less public and more", she leaned forward with a smirk; their noses were only centimeters apart, "private." Her last word came out as a sultry purr and she laid a hand on his thigh.

It took a few moments to let her words settle in. When they did a pale blush rose on his cheeks; his jaw slackened only a bit, but his eyes hardened with something that he hadn't felt in a very long time. It wasn't her comment that made him blush, it was the ideas that came to mind when she said this that did. With his mind he could think of quite few things that could occupy the rest of the night. And there was also the fact that her hand was taking its place upon his thigh, her nails dug in lightly through his panted leg. A growl left him and soon he found that words would not form in his throat for a few seconds,

"Umm", he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie to loosen it a bit, "maybe later."

Brenda playfully pouted, but when she pulled her hand away she made sure to drag her nails down his thigh digging in softly.

"Fine, but I'll hold you to it." She winked and turned to the bartender, who had just walked up behind the bar counter and began cleaning glasses.

"George?"

"Yea, Doll?" The man answered in a gruff Brooklyn accent. He held a cigar clenched between his teeth.

"Will you gimme a white Russian? You know how I like it." George smiled and swiftly grabbed a glass from the shelf behind him. As he mixed the drink swiftly, as a seasoned bartender should have, he smiled and spoke towards the woman,

"That'll be $3.95, babe."

Just as she went to lay down a five dollar bill a gloved had clasped over hers gently. She looked and saw that Edward had stopped her from paying the bill; he gave her charming smile that brought a light shade of peach to her cheeks.

"Put it on my tab, George. Matter of fact, anything she orders is on me." His eyes never left her face when he spoke.

"You got it, Mr. Nygma", the older man then chuckled lowly and mumbled something about youngsters, puppies, and love. Another grin passed on George's face when Brenda caught a few of the words he spoke and her blush deepened as she looked away and combed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to do that."

"Nonsense! Besides, I'm sure a beautiful girl like you get offers like that all the time."

Brenda smirked as her blush fully disappeared; she was back in the game. She felt comfortable in the area of flirting. When she was the one doing the flirting that is.

"Such a charmer", she said soothing his ego.

The Riddler grinned arrogantly at the compliment. If there was one thing about Edward that was the same as his persona it was the fact that he took compliments very much to heart and much to his mind.

The tale of Narcissus and Echo is one of sadness and tells the tale of that of woe in one heart and that of loss in the other.

Out of the plethora of Greek Mythology stories the story of Narcissus is his favorite. A man falling in love with his own reflection reminded him of himself. Edward Nygma in love with his Riddler persona. They are the same person the only similar things they have are the fact that they have an affinity for puzzles and they both have an enormous ego that is in great need of constant care.

Narcissistic.

It was one of the words that were repeated over and over and over in his psychoanalysis report in Arkham; along with riddle, game, puzzle, and enigma.

Things went silent between the two as she waited for her drink which arrived very shortly. Her sharp brown eyes never left his when George set her drink down on the bar.

"Here ya go, Doll. White Russian, on the rocks, extra cream."

"Thanks, George."

With her eyes still trained on the man before her, Brenda gracefully picked up the glass and brought it to her lips. She smirked over the rim of the glass that held the white liquid. The smell of the cream mixed with the vodka, cream, and Kahlua reached her senses. Brenda "Hmmed" and finally took a sip of the drink. Edward watched amused as she finished off the small glass of liquor in a few moments. When she brought the glass away she licked her lips slowly savoring any remaining alcohol on her skin. She made sure her eyes stayed on his the whole time.

"Mmm, delicious. . ."

Edward laughed and took a drink of his scotch and finished his off also seeing as how e only had a bit left anyways. A dark glazed passed over his eyes as he had watched her tongue smooth across the pink skin of her lips.

"Would you like another?"

Brenda could only giggled a bit and turn the glass upside-down on the counter. A slender, manicured, finger traced itself around the base of the up turned glass as she stared at him with amusement shinning if her eyes.

"Oh, no. No, thank you; I'm actually a light weight."

After storing that little bit of information away in his head he grinned darkly at the woman. George poured more scotch into his empty glass and took Brenda's upturned one from the bar.

"Hmm, I'll have to remember that."

"For what; planning on getting me drunk anytime soon?" Brenda cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow while smiling mischievously at Edward, who silently thanked George.

"Maybe? Maybe not? Between you and me, I'm the only one who knows the answer to this riddle, my dear. "

Brenda pursed her lips lightly in thinking, "Really? I guess we'll just have to see then won't we? In the end your answer may not be correct."

After also nodding thanks to George, who had brought her a glass of iced water with a lemon slice on the rim, she took a drink and then brought the lemon to her lips. She sucked on it a bit at a time before taking a small bite out of it. Her eyes examined the half eaten lemon slice,

"Lemons and limes are, to me, like nickels and dimes. You can never have too many, because in the end they may be worth at least a penny."

Edward cocked an eyebrow in amusement and in question at the sudden rhyme from the female before him. He had not expected that from her at all.

"Well, it seems my dear that you are a poet and I didn't know it."

Brenda leaned forward and brushed her lips across his gently, "Like you, Mr. Nygma, I too have obsessions."

The Riddler smirked and narrowed his eyes at his the femme fatale before him.

"This game of cat and mouse that you have been playing, Darling, is one that I can also play. I am the master of puzzles and games."

Brenda grinned and drank her glass of water leisurely as she tried her best to act nonchalant. Her eyes observed across the room where a band had begun to play. A small group of seven men played to Tango which cause a few couples to begin dancing in accordance to the song. Her eyes still cut to him in an attempt to keep her placid demeanor.

"Keep talking like that, Riddler, and you might be sent back to Arkham", she joked calmly. However, the response she got was not what she had been expecting to come from him.

A gloved hand slid over hers to grasp it lightly as his masked eyes stared into her sharp brown ones that soon dilated. Her breath mingled with his as their proximity lessened. Another hand sneaked its way up and into the long strands of her thick brown hair pulling her head towards his even more.

Brenda's eyes shuttered when his lips graced across her cheek slowly making their way to her ear. A slender hand came up to grasp one of the lapels of his green sports jacket pulling him closer.

"That's a risk that I'm willing to take, my dear", how she loved it when he called her that, "but as much as it sounds very tempting, I cannot indulge in my old habits."

He kissed her ear once and pulled away fully, leaving Brenda to regain her heightened senses. A charming smirk resided on his face one again as he grabbed her right hand gently in his own. On the back of her hand he bent to leave a chaste kiss before speaking to her with his lips barely on her skin.

"Then I would not be able to spend this lovely night with your beautiful presence. Though, if you want the honest truth", the dark shadow that was casted on The Riddler's face when he tilted his face up to look at her from under his bowler's hat made a shiver run up her spine.

Edward's eyes were dilated behind the cloth of his mask. Months of imprisonment and sessions at Arkham all went down the drain in one night. He may have already have thrown his reformed man thing out the proverbial window as soon as he left the asylum, but in the eyes of the republic he was a reformed man. Now he could feel the urge that he truly did try to hold down to some degree.

A dangerous grin spread across the lips that Brenda so desperately wanted to taste and it only made her want grow more. The danger and mystery that came with the look he gave her cause her breathing to go erratic.

"Old habits die hard."