She stood in a black void, walking aimlessly.

"Mason!" hervoice was small, scared.

She was fourteen, and she was lost.

"Mason! Where are you!"

Celia woke up, tears on her face. Her eyes burned. She sat up and rubbed them, then looked around her bedroom. Everything was fine. Perfect. She sighed and looked at the alarm clock. The glowing red digits read; 2:36.

"Of course…." She lay back down and closed her eyes again.

Even her dreams woke her up at the same time, every night…

….

It was Friday. TGIF, Casual Dress, Pay-Day. People came to work happy, dressed in jeans and talking about who's buying the drinks tonight.

Celia didn't participate in any of that.

It didn't matter if it was Friday. She still had work to do. She came to work in dress clothes, as usual, and headed straight to her office, passing by all the doughnut boxes and gleeful chit-chatters.

'No rest for the wicked, my ass. At least they get breaks.' she thought to herself as she entered her office. She closed the door with a 'snap' behind her and got to work, as always.

Some minutes later, she heard a light rap on the door.

"Come in…" she said, still engrossed in her calculations. The door opened, and she looked up, half-expecting someone with another folder for her to review.

Instead it was William, dressed as he was yesterday; completely covered up. Celia sputtered.

"Uh-wha-Hello! Can I help you, Mr. Doe?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes, your father said you would have something for me to look over in terms of this company's percentage of profit. If you would be so kind, I would like to see it." He said. He sounded a little more alive today. Less quiet. Celia took this as a sign of him losing his shyness around the place, and she smiled.

"Yes, of course. Just one second." She said, and walked over to a stack of manila folders. She grabbed the entire stack and took it over to William. He seemed surprised.

"My, aren't you thorough." He said, and took the stack. Celia chuckled.

"Yeah, that isn't even half of it. Most of it is stored in my brain. I only print out the stuff my father wants to see."

"So this," William said, gesturing to the large stack in his arms. "Isn't all of it? That's a lot of numbers."

"You're telling me. That in your arms is just the end result. All the 'how it got there' is in my head and on the master computer's hard drive." She said, then stopped herself. Why did she just say that?

"Should I pretend I didn't hear that?" he asked in amusement. Celia smiled sheepishly.

"That would be appreciated." She said.

"Hey, this may sound weird, but would you like to go out for something to eat during your break? I swear I'm not hitting on you, It's just I'm leaving at four for Metropolis and I want to make sure I have everything straight with this." He said. Celia considered this for a moment. She didn't really want to, since there was so much work to do. But she didn't want to be rude. She wanted to see his face, so she could get even the smallest hint of a lie from it. She sighed inside, and nodded.

"Sure, why not? You seem harmless. And if you try anything I can just take off your scarf. Simple." She said. She then looked at how much taller he was than she.

'Two feet at least…Damn my shortness…' she thought. William seem amused.

"You have an odd sense of humor, Miss Bailey. When is your lunch?" he asked.

"It's at noon." She said, and opened the door for him. "I'll see you then."

"Of course." He replied, and left. Celia closed the door and stood there for a moment. For the first time in six years she wouldn't go with the routine.

"Hmm." She said to herself, then sat back down at her desk and returned to work.

…

William chose a small place near Celia's work to eat at called 'Salad Garden'. They sat outside, per his request, and he ended up not ordering anything. Celia ordered a light salad with lemonade.

"Don't you want to eat?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"I already ate. I'm not a salad person, anyway." He said. Celia blinked.

"Then why did you take us out to lunch for the work-talk? We could have done it in my office." She said.

"I really didn't want to spend another minute in that place, and you seemed like you felt the same way, so I just figured I'd take us out." He said, and shrugged. Celia nodded.

"Well, thanks for that. You're right; it can get a bit stuffy in there, even in a big office." She said. She took a sip of her lemonade. "But aren't you hot in those layers of clothing?" she asked. William began to drum his fingers on the table.

"No, not really." Was his answer. Celia's brow furrowed. She didn't get this guy in the slightest. It was nearly eighty-six degrees right now, and the pavement all around them only made it seem hotter…

"Well then," she said, deciding not to hang on the subject. "You said you wanted to make sure you had everything right before you left. Why don't you tell me what you learned, and I'll fill in any necessary details and correct any mistakes." She said in her professional tone. William nodded and relayed to her what he took from the many files.

"So, is that it? Or is there more?" he asked when he finished. Celia stared at him. In just a few hours he was able to memorize all that correctly. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her nearly drained lemonade.

"Erm, I think you got it all. Goodness, you're thorough as well, I see." She said, impressed.

"I try." William's voice sounded like he was smiling. "But, I find it hard to really believe that's it. So there is seriously more?" he asked. Celia nodded.

"But all of that is confidential, and I'm not allowed to share that information without an officer present to watch over." She said.

"And only you know all this stuff? That must be a load on your mind…" William said. "Doesn't your father help you out?" he asked. Celia scoffed.

"Even if he tried to help, I would end up kicking him out anyway; he's forgetful. Besides, he only likes the end result, and seeing those perfect percentages in my end-of-month presentation to the board. He doesn't really care for how the money got there in the first place." She said. William was nodding slowly along as she spoke.

"I see. You've left me incredibly curious, I'm afraid. Could you give me just a hint of what's sitting in your mind? I won't tell, I swear." He said, and held his hand up, palm forward. "Cub Scout's honor." Celia laughed, and nodded. He seemed trustworthy.

"Alright, I can't give the details, but, just imagine a large net, or web, where each of the intersections is one place where either our products are sold or where the money for that product is transferred. And, like a web, it all eventually leads to a center point, which I can't tell you about." She said.

"I would think the money would go to the work building, or a bank near it." William said. Celia shook her head.

"Nope. You wouldn't believe where it all goes. And I won't tell you." She said.

"Alright, I'm content with what you gave me. Is it a large net?" he asked. Celia nodded.

"Imagine a net around the world." She said, and drew an invisible circle in the air with her finger.

"Excuse my language, but damn. That's a lot of information on your brain. You're like a human hard drive." He said. Celia nodded and took a bite from her salad.

"The perfect worker." She said.

"Your father seems obsessed with perfection." William said. Celia smirked.

"Yeah, you sensed that, too?"

"So do you." William's last words made Celia go still.

"Do I?" was all she managed. William nodded, then pointed to her silverware, which was arranged in a row.

"Yes. When we got here, you took your silverware from the napkin and placed it in a row. Now it looks perfect…" Celia looked down at the shining silver. Did she really do that? She didn't remember. It was so routine, that she didn't even think about it anymore.

"Yes, it seems so…" she muttered. William leaned forward and propped himself on his elbows.

"What is your definition of 'perfect', Miss Bailey?" he asked. "What is 'perfection' to you?"

Celia's mind was running laps. This was supposed to be a business-based lunch, and here this guy was, asking personal questions.

'Whatever, I'll answer. It's simple enough.' She thought to herself. Of course it was simple.

Wasn't it?

An answer formed in her mind, and old answer she used to use. But she knew it was wrong, according to her father. He corrected her, and now she had the right answer. She thought she had the right answer. She knew-no. Yes, she knew. She was sure of it. Her father said it was, so...

"Something without any faults, of course." She said finally. She was confident with her answer.

"Saying that is telling me that nothing is perfect in any sense, Miss Bailey." William said. His voice almost made her jump; he sounded so serious. He went on. "Of course, that's true to most people, the notion that nothing is perfect. I mean, that fork you're holding-one of the prongs is slightly bent. This table's legs are uneven, and needs some coasters placed under it to keep it from wobbling. Our government is corrupt, and school teachers don't know everything they claim to. Our entire world is built on in-perfection. Your world-wide net will find a fault in its system soon enough; perfection doesn't last." Celia caught herself staring, then looked down, her face flushed.

"Well, I hardly think that our company could have any faults. And even if we find one, we would perfect it-"

"Even you're Imperfect," William interrupted. "You take the words from your father, instead of using your own voice. Do you seriously believe what you have been taught to say, sometimes? You probably haven't even thought about that. You're a doll. A very smart puppet." Celia was frozen. William leaned in closer. "Is there a single original thought in your head? Or is it all robotics? Routine? Do you have a life outside your father's work?"

"I-I…" Celia tried to speak, but nothing came out. William seemed to smirk under his scarf.

"Maybe you are perfect. Like you said; the perfect worker. Congratulations." He said. Celia took a deep breath and placed her fork down on the table. Her mind was racing. This guy…he was so kind before. Now, he was just…

"I'm sorry, I need to go. My break is almost over and I have a lot of work to do." She said, and pulled a ten dollar bill from her pocket and dropped it on the table. After hearing what he said, she felt a little pathetic saying what she just did. She stood and left, not bothering to look back at him. She forced her mind on her work, to help get him out of her head.

'All that paperwork…'

….

He watched her leave, very content with his actions. When she disappeared, he looked over to the ten dollar bill resting on the table. He picked it up and looked at it.

"Oh, Miss Bailey. This isn't even a scratch of what you'll be making me in the very near future…." He muttered, and placed the bill in his jacket pocket.

After that, he stood and left without paying.

…

She was at the national competition, and she was the next contestant. Her coach had given her the pep-talk, and her teammates had given her their best wishes.

She stepped out onto the thin board that was propped exactly three feet in the air. She took a deep breath, raised her arms above her head…

Celia woke up with a jolt. She was sitting on her white couch, the television displaying a commercial for cleaner. She looked up at the clock. It was nine-fifteen p.m.

"Are you serious, Monty?" she asked. "I just slept through 'All My Children'…" Less than happy, Celia grudgingly stood up from the couch and stretched before walking to the bathroom to shower.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom in her favorite white silk nightgown and a white robe. Pink slippers donned her feet and she walked out to the kitchen to get one last drink before finally retiring for the night. As she filled her glass, Celia noticed something off about the counter space.

There was a speck of dirt.

Celia turned off the water and set the glass down quietly. That dirt sure as hell wasn't there when she made dinner. And she cleaned all the surfaces when she was finished, so this dirt was definitely out of place.

What the hell?

Celia narrowed her eyes at it, mentally interrogating it.

'Who sent you….' She thought suspiciously. It didn't reply. Of course it wouldn't. It's dirt. It couldn't have placed itself there by any means, so someone else put it there.

Celia was now very aware of her surroundings. Was someone in the room? Forcing herself to keep calm, she casually took one of the frying pans from the hook in front of her.

Then she swung it with all her might.

Even though she was suspicious of someone being in her apartment, she was still horribly surprised that the pan actually collided with something.

And that something yelled a very loud "Ow!"

She looked up to see that she had smashed a really buff guy with a hockey mask right in the face. He stumbled back, gripping his face with his hands.

"Fffucking HELL! Damned bitch got me!" He yelled. Celia was panicking.

'Omigod there's someone in my apartment. Omigod, omigod, omigoooood.' She thought. She kept the pan gripped tightly in her hands, and she raised it a little, just in case.

"I told you bringing a spare guy would be good, Don…" a gruff voice said from outside the kitchen. Another intruder walked in, shaking his masked head at his partner. "The boss ain't gonna like the fact that you got beaten by a chick."

"Fuck! That! Just get the bitch already!" said Don. Blood ran from his exposed nose. The other thug tsked and looked to Celia. He began walking to her, and he pulled a gun from the front of his pants. Celia began to shake terribly.

"Listen, lady. We got specific orders not to hurt you too bad, alright? But If you try anything, we got permission to bruise you up, so think rationally." He said, then pointed to the frying pan. "I have to ask you to drop your, uh, weapon, or I'll use mine, got me?" Celia looked from him to his gun, and swallowed hard.

She lowered the pan.

"Very good." The intruder said slowly. His partner was still cursing behind him. The intruder then walked right up to Celia and took the pan from her trembling hands. She looked up at him.

"What do you want?" she asked. He shrugged as he set the pan down on the counter.

"I dunno. I just do the little work. The boss wants to speak with ya." He said. Celia nodded.

Then kicked him in the groin.

He collapsed, cursing loudly. Celia ran for it. Don grabbed her robe, but she slipped out of it and ran towards the door. She reached it. Hope filled her mind as she grabbed the handle. It was gone as soon as it came, however, as something grabbed her hair and threw her backwards. She fell to the floor and hit her head hard. The intruder she kicked between the legs stood above her, a little hunched over from the pain.

"I told you not to try anything, lady…" he said through clenched teeth. He leaned over to pick her up, but she shot her fist out and punched him in the jaw. He staggered, but righted himself. Celia figured her hand hurt more than his jaw did as he grabbed her shoulder and forced her to sit upright. "Sorry I gotta do this, but I warned you." He said.

She felt something hard hit the back of her head, then she plummeted into darkness.

….

"Dammit, the boss ain't gonna be happy, guys." Celia heard a new voice say as she drifted back into consciousness. She was being carried by someone bridal style. The area they were in was cool, and she could hear water. She kept her eyes closed in an attempt to make it seem like she was asleep. If they knew she was awake, they might raise their guard. She wanted a chance to get out, so she would wait for the perfect opportunity.

'Perfect.' The word pierced her mind, and she remembered what William had said to her. She mentally shook herself of the thought. This was not the time for that.

"This bitch hit me with a fucking pan, so don't go tryin' to put me on a fucking guilt trip!" the one she remembered to be Don said.

"Yeah, but she's bleeding." Said the new voice. Celia almost opened her eyes to see where she was bleeding from.

"My nose is broken, dammit!" said Don.

"The bleeding is my fault; I hit her a bit too hard with the pistol." Said the one carrying her.

"Dammit, Jared." Said the other voice.

"I'm used to knocking out big guys, alright? I've never kidnapped a Barbie doll before…" he shook Celia just a bit to prove his point. "She's like eight pounds soaking wet..."

"We could just hide it, right?" Don asked.

"Her hair is white. There's no hiding it. Think, man." Jared said.

"Sorry, but my brains are kinda scrambled from her smackin' me.." Don muttered angrily.

"You're really milkin' that, aren't ya?"

"Shut up, Marc."

"She's awake, you know…" said a new voice. It was authoritative. The thugs all went silent. She heard footsteps. "If you don't believe me, just drop her." He said.

Celia shot her eyes open to see Jared looking down at her. His mask was gone, showing a buzz-cut hairdo and a scar just above his right eye. She gulped.

"I'm going to set you down now, lady." He said, and eased her down. Celia stood up straight, then collapsed. Jared grabbed her shoulders before she hit the floor, and he held her up. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt weak. She kept her eyes downcast, and noticed a pool to the right. "Um.." Jared began, but someone cut him off.

"She'll be fine. Good work, boys." Said the new voice.

"Thanks, boss." Jared said. Celia blinked and looked up.

She tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat.

Their 'boss' was as white as paper, and was missing his lips and nose. His ears were just small holes on the sides of his head. His mouth was a large, deadly grin of pointed teeth that were just as white as his skin. His eyes were brown, and they we currently narrowed into slits as he glared at Celia. She shook terribly.

He looked just like a shark.

He walked towards her. He wore a black suit and dress shoes. A Rolex watch was located on his left wrist. It glittered with diamonds.

"I still can't believe she beat you two up before you finally knocked her out…" he said. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it over his mouth to keep himself from drooling; it was difficult not to do so when you had no lips to stop it. "She's nothing more than a weak little seal…"

Celia saw him hold his free hand up, as a gesture to shake hers. She only stared at it. He shook his head and dropped his hand.

"Just give her a frying pan, boss. Apparently she goes beast-mode with those things." Marc said, and pointed to Don, who Celia noticed had a bandage over his nose. One of his eyes were black and swollen, and….was he missing a tooth?

"That's not fuckin' funny! I should kill that bitch for ruining my face!" Don shouted. Marc grinned.

"Nah, I like you like this. It's an improvement."

"Fuck you, man!"

"Don," the boss said. "Shut the hell up." Don huffed, but nodded.

"Yes, Shark." He said. Celia's eyes widened.

'Shark? That's what he's called?' she thought. The boss looked to her again.

"Do you know who I am, Miss Bailey?" he asked. Celia shook her head vigorously. He sighed. "Of course not; you have no life outside the workplace." He said, then cleared his throat. "How about now?" he asked in an altered voice. It sounded familiar. Celia's eyes widened when realization dawned on her. She felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"William...Doe?" she asked in a squeak. He nodded, and his toothy mouth seemed to shift upwards at the corners into a smile. He snapped his fingers once in approval.

"Bingo, exactly! But that was just a disguise for infiltration purposes. I'm better known by all of Gotham as Warren White, or the Great White Shark. Now, you know who that is, correct?" he asked. Celia felt like her eyes would pop out of her skull. She nodded. She knew who this guy was now. She'd read about him in the papers. He was a con-man who also happened to be an Arkham patient. She knew through papers and rumors that anybody who got in his way was quickly dealt with, with a bullet...

'Or with his deadly jaws...' she thought, her eyes darting back to his teeth.

"Y-yes…" she mumbled. "I know…"

"Good! Then you know I mean business. I have some numbers and information I need extracted from your pretty little head, and the only way I'll get that is if you tell me about it, which you will of course do, should you value your freedom and your life." He said, his voice filling the large room. Celia looked around. She saw the pool, which was in the center of the space. At the far back was a wall of a window overlooking the city. In front of it was a large desk. It was an office.

"Where am I?" she asked. White shook his head.

"I'll not say." He said. Celia should have expected that. She was out of her element. Away from the safety of her apartment, which turned out to not be very safe anyway. She bit her lip as a crazy thought popped into her head.

'Who's going to feed Monty…'

"Now that this bitch is awake, let's make her useful…" Don said suggestively from behind White. Celia looked at him , and he looked right back, smiling like he was going to do something. She tried to step back, but Jared held her firm. White looked to the thug and cocked his head.

"And what are you suggesting, exactly?" he asked. Don's smile widened.

"Y'know, boss. I was just thinkin' that when you're done with her, we could have a little fun with her. Or we could have fun now. Might get her to talk faster…" he said as he looked over Celia. She knew what he was talking about, and she felt over-exposed in her silk nightgown. A tear ran down her cheek as she suddenly feared the worst from these men.

White looked over to her and saw the tears welling in her frightened eyes. He shook his head and tsked, rubbing a hand over his bald head. "Don, you've made her cry." He said sadly. He pulled a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at Don, who froze.

"B-boss, what-" he began, but White cocking the gun made him go silent.

"I don't work like that, Don. You're too much of a risk for my subject, and I'm afraid I'll have to let you go…" White said in a professional manner. Celia thought he actually sounded apologetic. White aimed, and Celia wanted to shut her eyes, but something in her mind forced them to remain open. Don held his hands up.

"Wait, boss! N-"

BLAM! BLAM!

Two quick shots from the silencer, and Don fell to the floor, two holes in his forehead. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth stupidly. Blood pooled around his body and filled the cracks between the tiles.

Celia suddenly snapped out of her fuzzed delusion and screamed. She wrenched herself free from Jared's grip and backed away from them. They all looked at her like nothing just happened. They were calm. Celia shook her head and kept backing away, hugging herself tightly. Jared suddenly stepped forward.

"Watch out-"

"Stay away from me!" she screamed, interrupting him. She didn't notice the pool right behind her, and she tripped on the ledge.

She fell in.

When she hit the water, she sank like a stone to the bottom. She tried to stand and reach the surface, but the water was too deep, and she couldn't swim.

'Oh, god. I'm going to die here…' she thought to herself as she covered her mouth and nose. She was becoming dizzy again, and she saw a small cloud of faded blood loom over her as it mixed from her hair into the water that stung her eyes.

She heard a muffled splash and turned around. She screamed again, but the water muted her cry.

It was a shark.