A few days later I was having breakfast in the mansion when I got the not very happy surprise of Quincy walking in and joining me at the table. I had barely seen him since i'd gotten here let alone sat down for a meal with him, it was suspicious and I was dreading finding out the cause of cleared his throat in an incredibly annoying manner and looked at me expectantly waiting for me to look up and acknowledge his presence; like I was gonna give him the satisfaction. I made a point of finishing my toast at a painstakingly slow speed before finally raising my head to look him straight in the eye.

"Oh Quincy, I didn't notice you come in." he glared at me, hatred and contempt perfectly clear in his eyes.

"Quite. I just came to tell you that we are hosting a benefit on saturday and you will be there." I could think of nothing worse than the idea of attending an event full of high society snobs, pretending to care about those less fortunate than them when in fact benefits like this were just an excuse to judge and one up each other.

"No." I wouldn't, couldn't, go.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. Thank you for the invitation but I will have to respectfully decline." As I said that I got up to leave but just as I was turning away Quincy violently grabbed my arm.

"I think you must be mistaken, Miss Arkham." he said my name as if he were swearing "This isn't an optional event. You will go and you will smile and wear a pretty dress and be oh so happy to tell all the nice people how wonderful i've been to you. Understand?" His grip on my arm was vice like and painful. That did it I was angry now, this jerk wasn't going to control me.

"Since when did I have to do as you told me?" I spat. Evidently this was the wrong thing to say as less than a second after I said that he backhanded me hard across the face.

"You little bitch. The only reason you are even here right now is because the press heard about your breakdown before I could silence it. So you need to suck it up and smile for the cameras, because lets face it who is gonna believe a certified crazy?" My face was stinging from his earlier hit and I was pretty sure it was gonna bruise. I tore free from his grip and ran out of the room.

It wasn't until I was within the safe confines of my bedroom that I broke down and cried, I felt weak, out of control and I hated it. I was so angry I wanted to make him pay. I wanted to go down there now and hit him until my hands were covered in blood.

I couldn't wait until that evening, Ivy was about to receive one hell of a rant. When I entered her room she took one look at the purpling bruise across my face and let out an audible hiss.

"Who did that to you?" I don't think i'd ever heard her so angry , if it had been aimed at me I might actually have been scared.

"Quincy."

"When I get out of here, he will pay." she was actually shaking with rage.

"I just wish I had some way to stop him from doing it again. I felt helpless against him, weak." she looked thoughtful at that.

"I may have an idea. You need lessons in self defence, I would teach you myself but I have my plants to protect will be happy to comply, I was talking to her earlier and she likes you." I nodded and after we spoke a little longer I left in search of Harley.

When Harley saw my face she let out an over dramatic gasp.

"Who beat on you Curly?! Let me at 'im i'll show him no one beats on my girl!" She was quite sweet really.

"Quincy did it" Ivy had apparently been filling in Harley about my private life "Ivy said that you might be able to teach me to defend myself in case he tries it again." the shocked expression on her face turned to one of excitement as she processed this.

"Oh yes Curly, we're gonna have so much fun!" it turns out Harley actually made a pretty good teacher and by the end of the hour I had a basic grasp of some simple holds, dodges and take downs.

This pattern of training continued throughout the week and by saturday I was getting pretty decent. I had been avoiding Quincy systematically by using my security screens to monitor when he was and wasn't in the mansion. I woke up on saturday to find an obviously expensive dress on my bed. It was blue and far too frilly for my liking, a pair of plain black heels were at next to it along with a note that simply said "wear it.". Clearly that evening wasn't going to be very enjoyable.

As I entered the crowded the room that evening the sheer amount of noise was what stunned me, that blended chatter of the hundred or so people rose up and surrounded me, it was unbearable. Quincy spotted me from across the room and motioned me over to the group of impeccably dressed and incredibly rich Gothamites he was talking to.

"Ahhh and here is the young lady herself!" he put his arm around me, i felt ill. "I was just telling these lovely people how well you've been doing." they were all smiling at me, it was unnerving seeing so many people grinning at me like loons.

"We were all so shocked when we heard what happened, but it's simply wonderful to see you back on your feet again!" said a busty blonde in a stupidly low cut dress, she was speaking to me as if I were a child, it kinda made me want to kick her.

"Yes Quincy dear, you are doing such a good job with her, the asylum too!" this one came from a brunette with enough botox to make her look as if she had a beak, like she cared about the asylum. Like any of these people did.

"Well as you would expect I was devastated when I got the news but poor Gen here hasn't been the same since the tragedy with her parents..." Since when was I Gen? As for the "tragedy" how dare he claim to have any emotional connection with the event. He only befriended my parents for the same reason he kept me around; our money. You see the Arkham family line was long and illustrious and resulted in me, the only heir to a considerable fortune. He was now saying something about the new miracle doctor Young, apparently she was revolutionising the field. More big words and a few handshakes later and the doe eyed fools were handing over large cheques.

"you look after yourself now Gen!" this was Botox speaking. She reached out to pat me on the head like some kind of dog, I couldn't take it any more. I jerked away saying "It's Genevieve." and stormed out of the room. From the monitor in my room I could see Quincy making excuses for my behavior, I turned the sound on.

"...still recovering from her episode, and isn't really herself right now. She'll be right as rain soon just you see!" accompanied by a cheery smile. it was sickening really. I locked the door to my room so he couldn't get in. Harley and Ivy knew not to expect me tonight as it would be too risky what with the benefit. When everyone had left that evening Quincy came up to my room and started banging on the door, he'd been drinking.

"Come out you little bitch! You're gonna regret this." followed by a slur of increasingly insulting swear words. Luckily for me he got tired quickly, mostly due to the alcohol, and left me alone.

I didn't leave my room the next day and read whilst listening to the radio to occupy myself, all that day they kept broadcasting updates about some incident down at the mayor's office, it sounded messy to me. I didn't have time to bother with that though, as I had to figure how I was going to deal with Quincy first. He was in his office at the moment, on the phone, he seemed to be having some sort of intense conversation, the kind that goes on for ages and if the pack of asprin the desk next to him was anything to go by his morning was off to a bad start. I decided to take the opportunity to sneak out for supplies, I went down to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cereal to take up with me. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw something catch the light on the table, it was a knife. I shrugged thinking to myself "you gotta do what you gotta do" and grabbed it as I walked by, it was small but sharp and perfectly good for self defense. On my way up the stairs I picked up a newspaper but it wasn't until I reached my room that I saw both my and Quincy's faces on the front. After giving it a quick once over I realised it was an article about my return to Gotham and what a kind deed Quincy was doing taking on someone as damaged as me. He really did have everyone fooled into thinking he was the good warden who could do no wrong. I stuck the article up on the wall and practiced my aim with the knife by throwing it at Quincy's fake smiling face, it was an effective form of anger management. He wouldn't stomp all over me again. Not now, not ever.