Author's Comment: You may want to have Wikipedia on hand if you don't know your Batman villains especially well. Otherwise this may not all make sense.

-2-

Chloe shuddered. She'd been going to Arkham for five days now, and while she was starting to relax a bit, that maniacal laugh still got to her every now and then.

So far she had spoken with Jonathan Crane, Pamela Isley, Temple Fugate, and Matt Hagen. She'd found that the best way to get them to talk about Batman was not through direct questions, but by getting them to talk to her, warm up to her. Eventually they started talking about it more.

What was beginning to disturb Chloe was the affection these criminals were starting to have for her. She knew it was mostly just that they enjoyed getting the attention, but to a certain extent, they were starting to like her.

It was quite disconcerting.

From Jonathan Crane, she had gathered only that Batman had some strong fears regarding his parents and bats. Apparently after being sprayed by Crane's fear gas, he had heard Batman muttering something about his father, but he hadn't said much more. No one ever did. According to Crane, it only made sense that Batman should have a fear of bats.

"Why else dress as one? If he thought bats were cute and cuddly, he wouldn't try to intimidate his enemies with that ridiculous get up."

Chloe thought this was a bit rich, coming from a man who had masqueraded as a scarecrow. She also didn't know how helpful it was to learn that Batman was afraid of bats, but the mention of parents did intrigue her. Were his parents living or dead? And why was he afraid of his father? Had his father been abusive? Or somehow a frightening man? Or was it something more subtle? Like the inability to live up to expectations? Was it possible that the Dark Knight's worst fear was that he had failed his parents? All questions she didn't have answers for.

Pamela Isley was probably the least fond of Chloe, though Chloe guessed she was just irritated with the interruption to her daily life. Isley had a single potted rose in her cell, something she tended and spoke to as if it were her child, and she clearly preferred its company to those of the 'inferior' humans around her. But even she seemed to enjoy having someone who spoke back around, if only to a certain degree.

From Isley, she had learned only a little as well. Isley spoke of Batman with conflicting statements. She often referred to him in a degrading way, a hint of disgust in her voice. At others, she spoke with a touch of admiration, even attraction. It would take quite a man to win over someone like Pamela Isley, Chloe decided. What the redhead did confirm for Chloe was the one thing she'd been counting on, hoping for: Batman's humanity.

"He's not such a bad guy," Isley admitted grudgingly. "He'd never leave you to die, not if he can help it. Trouble with him is that he cares more about people than he does about plants. Misguided fool. Can you imagine, Miss Sullivan?"

It was what she wanted to hear. Of course, most people aside from Isley cared more about people than plants, but it was the part about not leaving the criminals out to dry that gave her hope that her search for Batman was worth it. He never truly took justice into his own hands, only handed over crooks to the police...however much they might resent it.

Temple Fugate was...annoying as mosquitoes. He was ridiculously uptight and pretentious, but Chloe felt a bit more sympathy once she heard his background. It wouldn't take much for such a tightly wound man to snap, and he'd certainly been on the wrong side of the fate that one day. Chloe had quickly gotten on his good side though. First, she used some of the ample budget Oliver had provided her with and invested in atomic watch. No one had given Fugate the time of day - literally - in years, and it had made her a queen in his eyes. Then, in order to ensure that she kept on his good side, she made a point of stopping to talk to him at the exact same time of day every day. He was smugly pleased when she stopped in front of his cell to the exact second each time. Even Fugate had managed to give her a small insight into Batman.

"He's calculating. Calm under pressure. Every move he makes is carefully thought out and he never panics. His resourcefulness is...remarkable. But do tell me whether I should expect you this time tomorrow or not? I imagine you must have a separate schedule on the weekends from the weekdays."

It was another good sign. If he was that calculated, it meant there was some maturity behind that mask. This was no child who'd taken a sudden whim into his head to fight crime. This was someone who had put thought into his chosen life.

And then there was Matt Hagen. She had to train herself to look at him as though he were an attractive man, even when he wasn't able to keep his form, slipping into apile of clay-like sludge. She researched a few of his movies, so she could ask him about them, which flattered him immensely, but she kept herself just ignorant enough on them that she didn't come off to him as a fangirl. To help herself out, she made a point of turning her lashes down a bit, as though she were shy. The fact that she constantly tucked her hair behind her ear and straightened out her clothes added a nice touch, but the deal was sealed when he realized she was the reporter who had once interviewed Rachel Davenport, a former friend of his. Hagen had given her possibly the most helpful information of all.

"First of all, the guy's gotta be loaded. That's what I figure. Otherwise how's he gonna afford all those gadgets and that suit, huh? I worked on a movie once where we used some Kevlar. Expensive stuff. You gotta know he's not the guy to steal, so he must have dough. Only explanation. So you seen any movies lately? There's this actor these days I've been hearin' a lot about. Bale, I think. He any good?"

Now that was what Chloe called a clue. She'd had her suspicions before, but Hagen confirmed it. Batman must have access to vast resources. The question was where they came from. Was he openly rich? Or did he have some mysterious secret source of wealth that no one knew about? Perhaps he was backed by someone who was rich, who provided him with all his toys, an accomplice of sorts.

It seemed to Chloe that every ounce of information brought her still more questions. She was gaining insight on Batman, but very little that could help her determine who he really was.

By Friday at the end of her first week, Chloe was worn out with all the stories swimming around in her head. She approached Dr. Quinzel's office to say goodbye, and she was startled when she heard a frustrated growl from the other side of the door.

She knocked, and the response was an irritated, "Yeah?"

Chloe peered around the door. "Is this a bad time?"

Quinzel looked embarrassed. "What? Oh, no," she blushed. "I was just...taking a little break."

She looked down at her desk and Chloe laughed slightly. "Solitaire giving you trouble?"

"You would not believe what an annoying game this is," she sighed, leaning her elbow on her desk and resting her chin in her hand. "One of my patients taught me how to play it, and I have not won a single game. Multi-player card games I'm aces at, but for some reason I just cannot get the hang of solitaire."

Chloe grinned, leaning over to look at the cards laid out on Quinzel's desk. "I never really liked this game myself; it gets kind of boring playing by yourself after a while. But then, sadly enough, I was always pretty good at it. There," she pointed. "You can move the two of hearts onto the ace, and then pull the two of diamonds over in its place so you can flip the next card."

Quinzel's eyes lit up. "I completely missed that! What a funny little game," she sighed dreamily as she followed Chloe's instructions.

"Which of the prisoners taught you how to play?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously now. "Patients," she corrected.

Chloe seemed to put her foot in her mouth a lot around this woman. "Well I've got all the patience in the world, but I figured you could answer more quickly than that," she joked, feeling like an idiot.

Quinzel stared at her for a moment before laughing loudly. "That was funny!" she cried out delightedly.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. It wasn't that funny. She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a riot. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you, and to let you know that I'll be returning next Monday, as long as that's still convenient."

Quinzel nodded. "Of course. Is there anything I can do for you? Any questions you have for me?"

"I will have a few eventually, I'm sure, but nothing at the mo -" Chloe paused. "Well, actually, I do have one, but it's mostly for curiosity's sake, not really for the book."

"What's that?" she smiled.

"What do you think of Batman?"

Chloe wasn't prepared for the dramatic reaction she got. She had never seen Quinzel look so horribly angry. "He's a brute. A worthless thug. He's the one who should be in a cell, if you ask me. Every time the patients come in here, they seem to have been beaten to a pulp. It's plain inhumane. He's half the reason so many of them are unhinged. Look at Jonathan Crane. The first three weeks he was in here he was crying hysterically about bats, rocking back and forth in the fetal position. He still howls in his sleep about them every night. If you ask me, ole Bats is half the reason most of them make the mistakes they do. If he had any decency, he'd leave them alone. Let the police decide what's right and what's wrong."

Chloe didn't have the slightest idea how to respond to that. She wasn't sure she could. Her reflex was to argue Batman's case, but she realized by the fevered look in the doctor's eyes that it would be no use.

"I guess I never looked at it from that perspective before," she said finally, deciding that was the safest response.

The woman relaxed again, and her smile returned as she suddenly spotted an another move she could make with her cards. She made a small triumphant sound as she slapped one card down on top of another. "What makes you ask about the Bat, anyway?"

Chloe shrugged. "I don't know. I've only been in Gotham for about two weeks, and it seems he's in the papers all the time."

The doctor rolled her eyes. "Ain't it the truth. I've gotten to the point where all I read is the comics. It's nice to start the day with a laugh. Who cares about the news when it's nothing but taxes and death, death and taxes?"

"Hmm. Right. Well, I'll see you on Monday. Have a lovely weekend, Dr. Quinzel."

Quinzel, whose attention had already been drawn back in by the card game, glanced back up. "Oh, call me Harleen."

"Bye, Harleen," Chloe said awkwardly before shutting the door. She wasn't sure she liked calling Dr. Quinzel 'Harleen.' Up until that particular afternoon, she had always been so...professional. It wasn't to say she wasn't nice, just that she was a bit, well, straight-laced.

She shook her head. Maybe the good doctor had an inner weekend warrior just like everyone else.

Chloe, personally, was looking forward to her weekend. She was going to spend the majority of it compiling data, of course, but she was expecting a visit from Clark the next morning, and that evening she was planning to detox with a nice long bubble bath and a little room service.

God bless Oliver for upgrading my hotel suite.

Author's Comment: I know what you're thinking. You're asking yourself, "But where, oh, where is Bruce?" Well my dear, he is coming.

BlueSuedeShoes