The Horseman and The Hooded Crane
By: Miaiko-sama

Chapter: 4

*Disclaimer: Mature readers only, for adult situations and sexual contact.

Rachel's senses burned with excitement, which had both surprised and repulsed her. She shouldn't feel like this, especially with their professional history together. She shouldn't feel this way for a foot soldier of Carmine Falcone... and yet here she was practically falling off of her chair in an attempt to be as close as possible to the man she was loathing only moments before. She moved to stand, hoping he wouldn't touch her again, but inviting it all the same. She observed him as he waited a moment before standing, and then stared up into his eyes, observing his handsome features. It was heartbreaking that someone so perfect could be so flawed, so corrupted. And in a way, she sensed that was what attracted her to him, that madness.

Jonathan glanced down at the brunette with a curious expression before making his way toward his desk, unbuttoning his wet jacket, and placing it on his chair to dry.

Rachel's eyes skimmed over his body, noticing the way his wet shirt clung to him. She quickly realized this was the first time she had really seen him less formally dressed, but soon none of that mattered. His white business shirt was soaked, indicating that he had been in the rain much longer than she had. As he un-tucked his shirt, another thing Rachel had noticed was that he was a tad bit muscular. Not muscular enough to be a fly by night vigilante, but a healthy, toned build for someone of his height. The psychiatrist noticing her prying eye, turned around as he rolled up his sleeves.
"I can bring your clothes down to the basement to be dried, we have industrial sized dryers for the patient's linens. In the meantime, I can let you borrow something from my closet." He said, making his way to the door beside the exit, and taking out two identical long sleeved white business shirts. Jonathan handed one to Rachel, then began unbuttoning the small, clear buttons of his shirt.
The woman looked down, pretending not to notice, but viewing his movements with her peripherals.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Looking up, she saw a glimpse of his well defined, practically hairless chest. Her eyes traveled downward, glancing at his now visible abdominals, and following the 'v' of his hipbones. Her breath halted, causing her to mentally curse at herself for choosing now of all times to become a peeping tom. The doctor quickly took off his shirt, turning around so that his back faced the Assistant D.A, fumbling to get his arms out of the rolled up sleeves as he did so.

Rachel took this opportunity to quickly undress herself, unbuttoning her wet blouse and unlatching her undergarments. She buttoned up the dry shirt, which was quite big on her, then wiggled out of her wet pencil skirt.
"Do you happen to have anything I could wear for pants?" The woman asked, feeling slightly exposed- but happy that she managed to ask her question without feeling too silly.
"Sorry, nothing that would fit you." Jonathan said after a moment, unsuccessful in his search.

He looked back at the woman buttoning up the rest of the shirt, which he had to admit looked much better on her than on himself. The way she looked made him desperately wish he didn't have to walk to the basement.
"I'll be back. Please, sit down and rest your leg." He said, pocketing his keys and security clearance card before picking up their wet clothes.
"A-alright, thanks." Rachel said, moving back toward the chair near the middle of the room. She watched as Crane left, then felt a slight 'pang' of unease at the sound of the door locking behind him. She moved to the door, jiggling the handle to make sure she heard correctly, and then paced around the room uncomfortably for what seemed like 10 minutes.
"Well, think of it this way, it is an asylum. Locking doors shouldn't be that unusual." She said aloud to herself as she leaned against his desk. After a moment, the Assistant D.A realized that she could use this opportunity to her advantage. Had she found any incriminating evidence it most likely wouldn't be admissible in court, but it would still be evidence nonetheless and to Rachel Dawes that made all the difference. She jiggled the handle of the big bottom drawers, normally used for patient files, then tried the top ones. All locked, of course. She groaned, kicking the wooden drawer with her bad leg.
"SHIT!" She cried out, sitting down on the tabletop and caressing her bandaged leg.

* * *
Jonathan Crane smirked at the faint sound of the door handle being tried from inside his office, before making his way to the elevator on the far east side of the building. He turned the key to the security lock, then pressed the button for the basement level. The elevator groaned as it opened its doors, and he chucked the wet clothing into one of the empty bins as he walked into the laundry room. He motioned for one of the orderlies to approach him, speaking quickly and carefully.
"I trust things have been taken care of?"
"Yeah, luckily for us that D.A bastard used two of the cops on our payroll."
"We move forward then, as planned. We can't have anyone get that close again."
"Don't worry, we got eyes on the broad too, she won't know what hit her." Crane's eyes, in that moment lit up like a bonfire.
"Nobody touches her." He commanded lowly, taking a handful of the orderly's hair in his vice-like grip.
"She, is, mine." He finished, letting go of the man quickly.
"Have those dried and sent up to my office." The doctor pointed at the bin containing the wet clothing as he passed.
"Y-yeah. No problem." The man said, walking away as Crane grabbed a pair of dark grey scrubs from a small pile, then went into a back room to change out of his wet pants, throwing them into the bin as he made his way back to the elevator.
The brooding psychiatrist slicked his hair back absently, as he moved down the corridor of his floor, then jolted at the faint sound of Rachel's expletive down the hallway. He rushed to his door, unlocking the deadbolt with swift precision before searching the room for an intruder, perhaps of the caped crusader type, all the while clutching his canister of fear toxin that he had slipped into his new dry pants. His eyes fell on a surprised Rachel Dawes, suspiciously close to his desk.
"I was walking and I tripped." She lied, rather badly.
"How's the leg?" He said lowly, as he closed the door behind himself, walking over to her.
"I-it's fine, just sore." She admitted, leaning against the corner of his desk so he could notice her attempt to take the weight off it.
"Is that right?" His voice stayed low and ominous as he eyed her, once again causing a nervous physical response. She fidgeted under the doctor's gaze, hating the feeling of being under his microscope. The hazel eyed woman made attempts to speak, but for the most part her words were a jumbling mess that only made her look more guilty. Crane's predatory gaze stay fixed on her as she continued.
"I- I..." Her nervous stuttering ignited a carnal impulse within Crane as he stood over Rachel, and without any physical or verbal warning he struck- attacking her mouth with his in a way that surprised the both of them. The intensity of the collision caused the petite woman to lose her balance, and rely almost completely on the doctor's desk for support. Her mind reeled as she tried her best to comprehend what was happening, but soon she lost her thoughts completely, falling into the sensual motions of Crane's mouth devouring her whole.

Normally when he needed to distract someone, this wasn't the way he would go about it, but this time Jonathan wasn't sure if the distraction was for her, or for himself. As Rachel responded to the kiss, he hid his surprise, wondering why she hadn't pushed him away or slapped him. He inclined his head as he reached out to her, pulling her in and deepening the kiss. The woman responded in kind, taking handfuls of his slightly damp hair and pulling herself into him. The psychologist moaned gently at the tingling sensation of her nails grazing his scalp, and he could have sworn he felt her smirk as she kissed him, but he didn't care.

Rachel's mood went from shocked and nervous to both aroused and amused at the sound of his muffled pleasure. She tugged at his hair slightly, running her fingernails down to his neck, before resting her hands on either side of his face. She had never felt more in control with him, and suddenly she was high from the feeling of knowing how to make the man before her voice his pleasure. She wanted more.

Jonathan quivered slightly at the woman's caresses, euphoric and hungry as she bit at his lip. She tasted like strawberries, and the smell of them blinded him. Her hands traveled and he moaned again, into her mouth as she tugged at the drawstring of his scrubs, bringing him with her as she laid back onto the table top. She smirked again, and this time the doctor caught on.

Rachel sighed deeply as he pulled away from her, breathing in as her bruised lips quivered for more attention. She opened her eyes and frowned, but arched her back and closed them again as she felt small nips at the base of her neck, that soon trailed up her jugular to behind her ear. She whimpered softly as Crane's mouth descended to her collar bone, then lower, until the fabric of her borrowed shirt prevented any more skin to skin contact. Her sparkling hazel eyes opened again, meeting his brilliant blue ones.

"Undress for me." Jonathan commanded in a way that caused her heart to skip a beat. He stepped back, watching her intently as she scooted backward onto the desk. His eyes appreciated her exposed, long legs as she wiggled her toes out of her short black pumps, the shoes falling to the floor quietly. Rachel kept eye contact with Crane as she reached for the buttons of the baggy shirt, she could feel her heart beat with every flick of her buttons, and she was grateful when he moved forward to offer 'professional assistance' with the rest of them. His left hand moved quickly, unfastening the familiar buttons with ease as he rewarded the brunette with gentle, delicate kisses on her cheek and throat. She rested back against the desk again, exhaling in pleasure at the feeling of his velvety lips trailing downward. Her back arched into him at the feeling of his teeth grazing her hip bones and she rocked into him.

Crane looked up at Rachel's face, fascinated at her disheveled appearance, aroused and writhing on his desk, in his shirt, under him. The thought of it was almost too much. Instead he decided to continue downward. He smirked up at the now wide eyed Assistant D.A wickedly before causing her head to roll back, a long, soft moan escaped her lovely mouth as she bucked against him, scratching her nails against the wood underneath her. Soon, she was lightheaded from the pleasure of it all, her legs twitching as she pulsed underneath him.

Suddenly, she whined at the loss of contact as Jonathan unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, taking out a condom from the contraband items box, only happy when she felt him on her once again. They kept eye contact in that moment, Rachel's legs wrapping around him in a vice-like grip as he began to move his hips into her. The woman's mewling sounds and grinding into him, matching his pace almost sent him over the edge as the smell of strawberries once again filled his senses. The brunette threw her arms around him, burying her nails into his back and gripping on for dear life as he buried his face in her neck. Whatever was left on the desk was soon kicked off and just when Rachel thought she would pass out, the doctor moved in a way that caused them both to climax together.

"Ah- Dr. Crane!" She cried out his name before she could bite it back causing the psychiatrist to look into her glazed over eyes, fully dilated.
"Call me Jonathan." Rachel's eyes blinked twice as she registered what he said, then she smirked, pulling him in for a kiss.
"Jonathan."

The two stayed clung to each other in a sweaty embrace, panting heavily until Jonathan finally recovered the strength to stand, pulling up the bottom half of his clothing and collapsing onto the office chair opposite of Rachel.

* * *
A heavy silence filled the room, as both parties were left in their own personal shame, trying to wrap their heads around the reality of what just happened- their breathing being the only validation that either was still alive. Rachel quickly buttoned her borrowed shirt, slicking back her damp hair with both hands.
'Did that just happen?' She thought, shame overwhelming her as she screamed internally at herself for allowing it to happen in the first place, and more importantly for wanting it to happen.

Jonathan, sensing her internal conflict, sympathized with her, as his mental battle waged on- beginning the second he collapsed into his chair.
'You complete and utter fool. She is a factor that was not a part of the initial plan. She could ruin everything. If that happened, Ra's..." Just the thought of his name was enough to snap Crane back into reality.
'We cannot tolerate distractions.' The man's attention turned back to the brunette, buttoning up the shirt he had lent her.
'However tempting the distractions may be.' His thoughts reminded, as she returned his gaze. Crane stood up, rather harshly at the sound of knocking at his door. Saved by the bell, his attention turned fully toward the person seeking attendance with him, leaving Rachel to her own devices and far from his thoughts as she should be.

From Rachel's point of view, she couldn't be more relieved. Suddenly, just being in the presence of the man was too much for her. She was fine with any means of escape to avoid conversing with him, and sensed that he felt the exact same way- which she found relieve in, but in a way it also deeply saddened her.

Crane's orderly handed him their freshly laundered clothing in a huff, unfolded but dry. It was obvious to the both of them that he was not pleased with the task he had been given, but as the doctor took the clothing, the orderly spotted Rachel, provocatively dressed atop his desk. In a moment, his attitude changed, and he smiled mischievously at the man. She tried to make out what he said, but only heard the words "About time" and "Privacy" as he left with a wink, leaving quick enough to avoid Crane's retorts. With a scoff, the man roughly shut the door and strode over to the woman, awkwardly hopping off the desk.
"Your clothes." He said quickly, handing them back to her and retreating to his closet to put away his newly laundered shirt, distancing himself as much as possible. The man preoccupied himself with the pair of dry pants he had been given, changing into them quickly and throwing the scrubs into the bottom of his closet. Crane felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and turned around reluctantly to meet her hazel gaze. He noticed her half dressed appearance and quirked an eyebrow.
"Could you help zip me up? It sticks." She asked softly as she rolled up the fabric of her high waist pencil skirt, wiggling in it as she tugged the material upward, then turned around so that the zipper faced him. Crane knew that she didn't really need any help getting dressed, but he obliged, against the wishes of his inner thoughts. His hand hovered slightly over the skin at the small of her back, reaching out to caress, but stopping before contact. Instead his hands grabbed the fabric of the skirt together, pulling the zipper up to the tiny clasp at the top. Upon fixing the clasp, it was Rachel who pulled away first, buttoning the rest of her blouse hurriedly and taking her purse in her hand. Her mouth was a tight line, indicating that she was displeased. Whether that displeasure was at him, the situation, or maybe even at herself he did not know- perhaps all three, but for whatever reason he knew he did not like this Rachel. As she put her hair up into a high ponytail he was reminded of their previous encounters, their relationship before tonight. Assistant District Attorney, Rachel Dawes, the idealist. The girl who was all business and quite frankly a big thorn in his side, this made it much easier to stick to business himself- but as she wrapped her hair tie around her gathered hair, he couldn't help but move toward her.

"Keep it down." He said, so quiet his thoughts almost completely drowned the words out in protest. His eyes caught her slight hesitation, slowing her hands before they ultimately stopped. As her hair fell back down around her face, he caressed her softened features; glad that her scowl had left her face, but soon he realized that he couldn't enjoy this any longer.
"I'll have Barry take you home after his rounds. Just give him your home address." He said frankly, opening the door and ushering her out of his office with a small nod to the hallway.
"Ah, alright." She said, suddenly confused and put off by Crane's disinterest in accompanying her. Once again, the woman found herself adrift behind her escort, in a deep fog of thought most likely just as she was. The events that had previously taken place in his office became a taboo topic of a past all too far away, however badly the brunette wished to bring it up. But with the rapidly growing distance between the two, Rachel doubted that their last words would be anything memorable to make this evening have a happy ending. Given, she also doubted this entire encounter would lead to anything 'happy'.

As they made their way to the elevator in perfect silence, she stole a glance at Crane, who was in deep thought with a sort of scowl placed across his face.
"Great." She could have slapped herself for allowing things to go so far out of hand.

The elevator doors open to the security detail orderly who had greeted them upon their arrival and once again she appreciated the company while it lasted. Anything was better than silence in the presence of Dr. Crane, and at least the attention could be diverted to another person for the time being. Unfortunately, the man only stayed on to accompany them to the door, then decided to give them privacy as the other orderly had. News traveled fast.
Rachel blushed.
"Barry should be nearing the end of his rounds, wait here and he should pull up shortly." He said, set to leave.
"Could you wait with me? This is an insane asylum after all."
"Are you implying that my asylum isn't secure?" Crane said suddenly, making her regret her choice of words immediately.
"No, that's not what I meant at all. I just wanted to..."
"You just assumed that I would be free to babysit you after our little tryst. Which is- however you spin it, exactly that. A tryst and nothing more. I'm sorry Miss Dawes, but you may have the wrong idea here. I am not interested in speaking with you about our brief affair, and as far as I'm concerned it never even happened- which I would suggest you do as well." Crane's icy stare sparkled slightly in the light of the atrium, chilling her almost as thoroughly as his words. Her emotions flared from hurt, to a sadness so deep she had to fight back tears, until a burning anger which started in the pit of her stomach exploded like a firecracker within her. She clenched her jaw slightly before standing up as straight as she possibly could and slapping the psychiatrist right across his beautifully deceiving features. She was wrong; his last words to her were definitely memorable.

Jonathan's face stayed in the same position it stopped at when Rachel's hand connected with his cheek. The slap itself had little power behind it, but his skin still stung at the feeling. Laughter filled his thoughts at the gesture, crazed, spiteful laughter.
"You unimaginable bastard." She almost choked on the words as they came out, quickly finding her resolve as she stared up into his eyes, defiant as ever.
"Good night, Miss Dawes." Crane said, void of any emotion that may keep her from calling his bluff.
"Good night." She scoffed, taking her purse in her arms and rushing down the stairs before she could break in front of him. She heard the door close behind her, but felt eyes watching her as she waited for Barry's car.

Luckily, she came quicker than she had thought, and soon she was in the back of his black town car giving him directions as he turned around. As Rachel left, she looked back at the asylum, Crane's silhouette nowhere in sight as she buried her head into her hands, exhaling quietly as tears welled up in her eyes. She mentally screamed at herself for being so blind.

Off in the far corner of the atrium window, Jonathan watched her leave, only stepping away from the window once Barry's taillights disappeared down the driveway.
'Jonathan, you fool...'

* * *
Rachel Dawes waved to her ride as she unlocked the front door to her apartment building. She was grateful that the Arkham employee didn't make an attempt to talk to her during their ride out of the Narrows, minus the occasional inquiries on the quickest route to her address. Unlike the other employees of the asylum, Rachel genuinely liked Barry. He was always courteous and nice to her, even when she was barging in, demanding to see Dr. Crane. Her eyes glazed over at the thought of the psychiatrist, whom she had just slept with moments ago, and as she closed the door behind her the woman couldn't help but break down. She found herself leaning against the wall and covering her mouth as tears slid down her face. She stood there for a moment in complete silence, composing herself before starting up the old rickety stairs to her apartment. After clearing the first flight of stairs, she scoffed, wondering what it was that she expected to happen. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted an actual relationship with the man. It wasn't logical. She fiddled with her keys for a moment, accidentally dropping them on her welcome mat in front of her door. The brunette stared down at them for a long moment before picking them up.

But if she didn't expect anything, why did she feel so broken?

Upon entering her apartment, Rachel made a bee-line straight for her shower, turning on the faucet and undressing as the old water heater soon adjusted the temperature to scalding and filled the room with thick steam. She stepped into the tub, quickly shutting the shower curtain behind her, then stood underneath the stream of hot water. The woman felt her skin tingle at the temperature of the water, but made no attempt to change it. Rachel grabbed a loofah, scrubbing it into a bar of soap before rubbing it into her skin on all of the places Crane had touched her. Scrubbing her right thigh with extra vigor as she remembered him holding her leg, so gently. She threw the loofah into the basin and rinsed off before exiting the shower in a huff, reaching for a towel and bundling up the soft cotton material to dry her face. She held the towel to her eyes for a few seconds before emitting a frustrated groan, wrapping the towel around herself and opening the bathroom door. The cool air of the apartment soothed her pink skin as she walked into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed face first. She took a moment before curling up into a tiny ball, hugging a pillow to her chest and sighing.

"Rachel, you complete fool."

[Author's Note:] Oh yeah, stuff got real in this chapter. Unfortunately I have an extremely dirty mind, and was unsure of how much of the sex scene I could write- so I censored and deleted a lot of pre-written stuff. *cries* It was really good too... Now I know how directors feel. (But I can't release a director's cut!)

But alas, I felt that I was dwelling too much on both of them being stimulated by each other and I felt that I needed to hurry along with the climax (hehe) Sorry, foreplay fans!

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Thanks again,
Miaiko-sama