The next morning, Beth walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, all oddness of last night gone from her mind. What she was currently thinking about was the smell of coffee leading her to the kitchen.

"Coffee..." she grunted when she entered, and went straight past Jonathan to the coffee pot.

"You sound melodious this morning..." he mused as he took a drink from his own cup as he scanned over the morning paper that John brought him about an hour before. Beth wrinkled her nose at him and sat down at the small table.

"And you sound way too pleasant on this Monday." she said. "Stop it and suffer like the rest of us." Jonathan snorted and continued reading the paper. Beth contemplated her boss' light mood for a moment. Normally he'd be just a surly as an angry badger in the morning, but there was something different today. Her brow furrowed when she noticed his coffee. "When did you take milk with your coffee?" she asked, knowing he'd always preferred it black, and usually hated it with anything added. She frowned, remembering that the last guy that brought him light brown coffee on a Monday was currently sitting at the bottom of a lake in Metropolis. Jonathan picked up his coffee again and took a drink from it.

"I guess the move inspired me to change up my own routine a little bit...or something." he said, clearly satisfied with his vague answer and the coffee. Beth gave him a disbelieving look, and he rolled his eyes. "Look, It's just coffee. It's nothing to read so closely into." he said, and turned the page to his paper.

"Alright, chill out." Beth said, giving up. She rest her chin on her hand and looked out the window into the thick woods outside.

'It's just coffee'.

That was exactly what the guy sitting at the bottom of the lake said.

...

When midday came, Beth and Jonathan were doing their rounds in the warehouse, asking John and Micheal questions about new clients and traffic, and barking orders at the lower thugs who were their for mostly heavy lifting and transportation. A new recruit accidentally bumped into Beth while running to check the new shipment of ingredients for Jonathan's toxins, and he fearfully babbled a quick apology before beginning to run off. There was a soft poofing sound, and something small stuck into the back of the recruits neck. His eyes widened, and he fell to the floor, screaming. The others ignored his shouts and worked faster, while Beth looked bewildered at Jonathan.

"The hell did that come from?" she asked. He held up a small gun for her to see. Where there was usually a cartridge, there was a thicker cartridge with tiny vials of yellow liquid lined up.

"New experiment I came up with." He said smugly. "A sort of dart gun for hitting enemies at long range. It's also quite unnoticeable, unlike gas, which everyone can see as it comes towards them. No one will see or hear these sneak up on them. They'll be caught completely off guard. It's proving satisfactory so far." he said, nodding his head towards the still screaming man. "Someone get him some damned antidote!" He barked, and two thugs shuffled quickly to the screamer and lifted him up. "And teach him to look where he's going once he's again sane!" Jonathan said as they dragged the recruit away to be given aid.

"Cool. I want one." Beth reached out to snatch the dart gun, but Jonathan held it away from her.

"Unfortunately, It's still under design. I'll give you one once I perfect it."

"Goody."

"We have an appointment tonight with a new client. We'll be leaving at six."

"Where at?"

"The Burg. He's a bit on the classy side. Goes by the name of Jackson Hulett."

"Penguin know about this?"

"He's the one who contacted me. There'll be a masquerade benefit tonight, so we'll be safe. Have you anything to wear for it?"

"Yeah, I have some dresses. Not very fancy, but one will do." she said, looking down at her black crop-top and grey cargo pants. "I'm not much a fan of fancy clothes."

"That much is obvious." Jonathan said humorously. Beth frowned.

"If there weren't people here, I would, and I quote Scarface: Deck ya in the shnoz an' watch ya bleed, pretty boy." she said, attempting her best Scarface impression.

"You think me 'pretty'?" Jonathan asked, bemused.

"I think you to look a little on the feminine side, yes." Beth admitted. Jonathan coughed a short laugh at that. Beth smiled. "Yeah, you do look kinda girly." she teased.

'Run girly, run!' a small, faintly familiar voice echoed into Jonathan's mind. His smile wiped quickly away. He shook his head, and Beth cocked her head to the side. "You okay, doc?"

"Yes, fine. Just be ready at six." he said briskly, and walked off in agitation, leaving Beth standing in confusion.

"Was it something I said?" she asked herself.

"Boss isn't too tolerant of any sort of teasing." someone said, and Beth turned to see Michael standing next to her.

"He'd never reacted that way before when I teased him..." she muttered. Michael shrugged.

"Maybe what you said stirred some bad memories. I dunno. Just be careful what you tease him about." he said. Beth bit the inside of her lip.

"He's been acting weird for a while." she said.

"How so?"

"I saw him sleepwalking last night, and this morning he was drinking coffee with milk. He doesn't like coffee with milk." she said.

"Sleepwalking is a common thing, especially to people who've been goin' under a lot of stress. And a change in coffee preference isn't something to get too worked up about. I'd just put it out of my mind if I were you. No need in being wary over nothing, y'know?" he said, and clapped her on the back before returning to his work. Beth watched him go and twiddled her thumbs for a moment in thought. Maybe he was right. In normal cases these oddities Jonathan faced were very common.

"But he's not a normal person." she said, frowning. Jonathan Crane was a precise, calculating man who was a slave to routine and liked everything to be exactly how he preferred it to be. And God dammit, he didn't like his coffee with milk in it!

Beth blinked, and snorted at how worked up she was getting. "I'm going nuts, worrying over coffee like this." she said. Michael was right, he had to be. Something as small as a change in coffee preference didn't mean anything major. How could it? "Nothing. Nothing to worry about." she said, and walked off to observe the work some more.

...

"I still don't think this dress will blend in..."

"You look fine. Stop worrying so much. That's all you can do lately."

"Okay, okay..." Beth placed the simple black eye mask over her face before stepping out of the sleek black car and onto the carpet that lead to the entrance of the Iceberg Lounge. Her strapless red dress fell just past her knees and the hem had a vine pattern embroidered around it. Her hair was confined in an uncomfortable braid that was wrapped around to make a french style bun,only leaving two strands of her hair to frame her face. Jonathan wore a sleek black suit with a silver undershirt and black and silver tie. His hair was slicked back to keep the wiriness of it down. They each scanned the rest of the crowd that was making their way into the lounge. All had masks that varied greatly in styles. Some wore the simple black masks that Jonathan and Beth wore, while others wore masks complete with outrageous feathers and colorful patterns splayed over them. Yes, the two criminals would blend perfectly.

"Now to find our client." Jonathan said, and moved forward with Beth, his hand pressing at the small of her back.

"'Kay, but how do we find our guy Hulett in a sea full of masks?" she asked.

"He gave me the details of his mask. Look for one with a golden beak and bright red feathers." he said. "And please don't embarrass us in front of this one." he added, making Beth's face redden.

"How am I embarrassing?" she asked.

"You stuffed your face at our first meeting-"

"What, you expect me to waste a perfect lobster?"

"You spilled wine on the client at our second meeting-"

"A little mistake! He said it was fine!"

"And I'll just skip to our last meeting. You stared at the woman's mole the entire time we talked-"

"Hey, that wasn't a mole, alright? It was like some giant brown space creature growing on her face and using her as a host so it could feed on her blood and then spawn thousands of baby mole-aliens once it's had its fill so they can spread over the globe and wipe out human civilization as we know it..." Beth said, splaying her hands dramatically to get her point across. Jonathan rolled his eyes at her.

"Alright, no more science fiction novels for you, first of all. And secondly, no matter how alien someone's features may be, you are not permitted to stare at them with your eyes bulging ridiculously!"

"Fine, fine! But when one of those things attaches to your face, don't come whining to me!" she said, and crossed her arms as they continued to search for Jackson Hulett.

"There's our man." Jonathan finally said once they began looking inside the building. And there he was, indeed, wearing the golden, beaked mask with very long red feathers glued at the edges. He was a short man, fat, with almost no hair on his head save for two white tufts that grew just above his ears. He was looking around nervously, as expected of a client of the Scarecrow. He even smacked a woman with his beak when he turned his head, and ended up apologizing repeatedly to both her and her fuming husband. Once they were gone, Jonathan and Beth walked up to his shaking form.

"That was crazy, huh?" Beth said, and Hulett jumped at her voice before turning to see them. He nodded, and began looking around again, not knowing that they were the people he was searching for. When he noticed that they didn't leave, he looked directly at them.

"D-do you need something?" he asked. Jonathan shrugged.

"Nothing really. We're just here to make some business negotiations." he said. Hulett nodded.

"Y-yes, me too. But it seems my business dealer has yet to arrive.." he said.

"Oh really? How inconsiderate." Jonathan mused.

"Quite. If it wasn't for extreme circumstances, I wouldn't have needed to communicate with such a waste of-"

"Alright, let's not say anything so quickly there, old man." Beth said before Hulett could finish his insult of Jonathan Crane to Crane himself. Hulett looked at her.

"How rude. But then again, young people today are nothing but rude. No respect for their elders." he said, shaking his head sardonically. Beth gave an ironic smile. In keeping him from insulting Jonathan, she got him to insult her. Wonderful.

"Now, now, Mr. Hulett." Jonathan said finally. "Let's not make harsh comments. It's not good for business." Hulett's eyes bulged.

"How do you-"

"It's us, Mr. Hulett." Jonathan said, mentally stabbing this man for being so oblivious. Hulett jumped again, and began sputtering a garble of words. Jonathan shushed him, and began leading him towards the receiving desk.

"Reservation?" The girl working there asked sweetly. He lifted his mask to show his entire face just briefly. The girl nodded at him, and picked up some menus.

"Right this way, sirs and ma'am." she said, and led them to a table in the center of the lounge, where they were surrounded by everyone. Hulett regarded this arrangement with little enthusiasm.

"No privacy?" he asked as he seated himself. Jonathan seated Bethany before sitting down and took the menus from the girl.

"Thank you, Sparrow. We'll have three waters, please." he said to her. She bowed her head once, and walked away to retrieve the drinks. He then looked at Hulett. "What was that?"

"I said why don't we have privacy?" Hulett said, keeping his voice hushed.

"Ah, yes, observe." Jonathan said, and turned his head towards the crowd of seated people. "I have a bomb!" he said loudly. Hulett started. Surely everyone would panic at those words. Then they'd be caught, and he'd be placed in prison for associating himself with a criminal mastermind! His reputation would be destroyed!

"Madman.." he muttered as he closed his eyes in wait for the first scream.

Nothing happened.

He looked up at the crowd of unaware people. All acting normal, like nothing happened.

Hulett's face was pale as Jonathan turned back to him. "You see? Complete privacy is best achieved in a crowd of self-obsessed people who are so oblivious that they don't even notice the waiters bringing them their food. They're too engrossed in their conversations of expensive vacations and upcoming charity funds to notice anyone else besides the people at their table!" Hulett was dumbfounded by this observation, and his cheeks went red when he remembered that these very people Jonathan insulted were the people that he himself hung around every day.

"Oh..." was all he said. When Sparrow came back with the waters, he downed his own in a few large gulps. Jonathan smirked at the humbled man and cleared his throat.

"Well then, let's get onto business." he said. Hulett began to shake a bit and nodded. "Who is going to have the pleasure of being my next patient, assuming you have the proper funds..." Hulett reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick stack of bills. He quickly handed it to Jonathan, who placed the stack in his own jacket.

"Ten grand, just as you asked." Hulett said.

"I trust you." Jonathan said. "But if I find a single dollar missing..."

"Y-you won't! I swear." Hulett said quickly, and dabbed his forehead with a napkin.

"So, give me a name." Jonathan said. Hulett pulled another item from his jacket. An ID card with a woman's face on it. He gave it to Jonathan, who handed it to Beth.

"Tabitha Palsey. Age twenty-six. She's cute." she said, and looked to Hulett. "So what did she do?"

"Don't let the face fool you. She's a rotten little witch. We were married for two months before she-" and so Hulett went on with what the woman did in order to take over three million dollars from him before divorcing him and taking another fifty percent of everything he owned. A real bitch. As he explained, Jonathan droned himself out, as he always did at these parts of the business deals. All the stories were the same in the end, and he was rather bored with this story of the evil ex-wife.

His eyes scanned over the crowd, watching the people eat and become more raucous as their wine glasses repeatedly filled and emptied. It was disgusting watching them snort into their champagne or brandy as they laughed hysterically at a joke that wouldn't have been very funny had they been sober. He sighed. What a world they lived in.

As he went to turn back to Hulett, who was becoming red as he explained his situation to Bethany, someone caught his eye. A tall man with wavy brown hair walked by their table, his face entirely covered by a full black mask that had horns protruding from the forehead of it. Jonathan couldn't help being suspicious, and watched the man be greeted joyously by a table of what had to be his comrades. He saw the man's eyes look through the holed in the mask, a dark blue color. Alarm bells went off in his brain, but he didn't know why. His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare.

"-oss...boss! Dr. Crane!" Beth shook Jonathan's arm to bring him back to his own table, and he blinked at her. She nodded her head at Hulett, who had apparently finished his rant about his ex-wife.

"My apologies, something distracted me from the conversation. Anyway, so you obviously have no favor for your ex."

"Not at all." Hulett said firmly.

"Good. Here's what will happen." Jonathan said, his eyes continuing to glance at the stranger a few tables over. If only he'd take off that damned mask. "You're going to be given three days to confirm whether or not you want to go through with this. Then you'll be given a call. I advise you answer all calls in the next week. If you still want to go through with it, fine, but if you don't, you'll be give three thousand of your money back and you'll not hear from me again, alright?"

"Only three grand?" Hulett asked. Jonathan nodded.

"This is my business, and if I gave all my clients all of their money back then I wouldn't be making very much money at all, would I?"

"I-I suppose not. But...I don't want to wait three days. I stand firm on my decision."

"Ah, yes, many a client has said that. Guess how many of them backed out in their three days..." Jonathan said. Hulett swallowed, and nodded in understanding.

"A-alright fine, is this all done then?" he asked. Jonathan smiled.

"Why Mr. Hulett, it's as if you don't want to be seen with us..." he said.

"Oh, no I didn't mean that-I mean, well, um..."

"The thing is, Mr. Hulett," Beth began, "We need to get through the meal, because even though the people here are usually oblivious, there is always a possibility of someone noticing someone leaving after five minutes of being here, and then they become suspicious, and we don't like that. So, you'll have dinner with us, your treat, and then we'll all be on our way, 'kay?" she said. Hulett sighed greatly, and held his head in his hands.

"I need a brandy." he said. Beth shook her head.

"Nope. No alcohol tonight, or for the rest of the week for that matter. We don't want you blabbing in a drunken stupor." she said. He groaned at that. No alcohol for the rest of the week? Madness. "And while we're eating, we'll explain how our procedures work, like when you'll be contacted and all that. The meeting itself isn't even over yet, so you might as well sit tight." Sparrow came back and asked for their orders. Jonathan ordered the fettucini, and Beth ordered the lobster. Hulett chose the first thing he saw. Spaghetti. Only when Sparrow left did he remember that he hated spaghetti. Damn.

"Like I said before," Jonathan said, "you'll be contacted withing three days to give a confirmation. After that, you'll be kept up to date on the-who the hell is that?" he said finally, unable to contain his frustration with the stranger anymore. Hulett and Beth looked at the man.

"His face is covered, I don't know." Hulett said, and turned back to a disgruntled Jonathan. Beth eyed her boss warily. He never allowed himself to become distracted during meetings with clients. It was unprofessional.

"Anyway," she said, "Go on, boss." Jonathan blinked, and shook his head. Why was he allowing himself to become so distracted? He looked back to Hulett.

"My apologies, I don't know what's come over m-"

"Hello, is this thing on?" someone's projected voice said from a microphone. Everyone turned to see an aged man had taken the stage, a wide grin on his face.

"Hey, that's Charles." Hulett said. "Wonder what the deal is."

"I suppose you're all wondering what the deal is with my old self being up here!" Charles began, and everyone but Jonathan and Bethany laughed. "But I have an important announcement, so listen up! You see, I've been working on a little project for a long time now with an individual who not hardly any of you know. See, he came to me in a time of great need, and once I heard his story, I just couldn't say no. See, this man was the first victim of one of the Arkham Rogues!" A collective gasp came from the crowd of people. "This poor, poor soul, the first victim of this rogue's violent deeds. The first victim of The Scarecrow!" More dramatic gasping. Beth shot her eyes to Jonathan, who stilled in his seat.

"Boss-" she went to say, but he hissed for her to be quiet, and she silenced. On stage, Charles waved for someone from the crowd to join him, and Jonathan watched with narrowed eyes as the stranger he'd been watching walked casually up and stood next to the old man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this man right here was a schoolmate of Jonathan Crane, and was even friends with him! But no, on the dark night of their senior prom, while this man was ah, havin' a little fun with his lady friend, they were attacked! Attacked by an entity that had the great resemblance of a scarecrow. He tried to escape, but he crashed, paralyzing him, and sadly, ending his girlfriend's life. He researched everything he could on this Scarecrow, and years ago he finally found that our city had it's own straw man and was shocked, no, dismayed to find out that his own friend, Jonathan Crane, was this madman! He came to me, in a wheelchair, and asked for help. He wanted to see Crane, but not as a victim, but as someone who had risen above this maniac's schemes, and moved on! For years we've worked hard to help this man, and see now how he stands tall before me! See now how he has no need of a chair or a crutch or a cane! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. Bo Griggs!"

Jonathan blanched as the man took off his mask, revealing a handsome face that smiled out at everyone in the crowd as they cheered and clapped and cried at the story they'd heard. He waved at them, and took the mic from Charles.

"Hello, Gotham! How we doin' tonight!?"

...

Author's Note: Yes, Bo Griggs is an actual character if you guys didn't know. He's also an asshole. A complete...ass-wipe...