"No more favors. Someone is sniffing around…"

"What the heck happened to you?" Falcone was sitting at his desk and was now looking into the face of Dr. Jonathan Crane. His face was completely swollen with stitched scratch marks crossing like a zebra's backside. Crane just sat there looking very intently at him.

"You look like crap."

"Shut up."

"Like something the cat dragged…"

"SHUT UP!" He pounded the table.

"Jeez, no need to be so hostile, what happened?" Crane looked away, drumming his fingers on his briefcase.

"Let's just say a cat did cross my path…"

"And all over yer face too so it seems."

"SHUT UP!" He pounded the table again. Falcone tried to wipe the smirk off his face.

"What'd you do... scare it half to death?" Cranes' jaw clenched

"You know, if I had a gun right now, I'd shoot you. Like right…now…"

"I'd like to see you try, pal." He glared. Crane cleared his throat, cracking his neck; he was almost going off the edge again. He restated his concern once again.

"Someone's sniffing around, Falc…" Falcone was clamping a hand to his mouth, his shoulders shaking up and down, trying to retain himself. Crane's own face was getting red as he hated to be mocked.

"Hey…snk… I scratch your back…you scratch mine…DOC!" He started busting gut right there. Crane's arms started trembling.

"But now, I guess, you should be doing all the scratching! I don't think there's any room for me to scratch you anyway! PHAHAHA! It already been DONE! PHAHAHA!" Crane lunged at his throat, anger seething forth. His deformed face adding to the effect.

"YOU DARE? YOU DARE? YOU SCUM OF THE EARTH GARBAGE BAG!" He began to shake the mob boss fiercely. He then slapped him two times and threw him to the floor and out of his chair. Falcone's arm took out the lamp as he hit hard. He scrambled, trying to get up again. Meanwhile, Crane was found digging and fumbling through his briefcase.

"WHERE THE HELL IS THAT MASK?" Papers flew as the doctor searched desperately. Falcone finally crawled to his desk, dizzy but still focused. Thinking Crane was looking for a gun, he got his own gun cocked and ready, just in case.

"I'm bringing in the shipments! You wouldn't…!" Falcone sneered, as he propped up his gun. The bruised faced Crane returned the gesture, getting to steadily to his feet.

"No more favors, Falcon man! You hear me?" Crane barked, "We are paying you top dollar for shipping that all this crap! You give me what I want!" Falcone leaned forward.

"Well, maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favors." In flash not known to mortal man, Crane karate kicked the gun out of his grip. He then picked it up, throwing it out the window.

"You're crazy!" Falcone spat. Crane, hair out of place and breathing hard, placed both hands flat on top of the desk, leaning intensely as his shadow swept over the mob boss. Falcone gulped.

"I am more than aware that you are not... intimidated by me, Mr. Falcone." Crane hissed.

"Like heck!" Crane cocked his head sideways like an owl. Falcone flinched.

Psycho…

"But you know who I'm working for, and when he gets here..." Falcone's eyes widened a bit.

"He... He's coming to Gotham?"

"Yes, he is", Crane spoke coolly, "And when he gets here, he's not going to wanna hear that you've endangered our operation just to get your thugs out of a little jail time." There was a tense silence. Falcone could feel Crane's heaving breathing.

"Could you… maybe… back up a lil…"

"ANSWER ME FALCO!" Crane roared as he pounded the table yet again, the boss held up both hands.

"ALRIGHT! Who's bothering you?"

"There's a b… a girl at the DA's office…" Crane corrected himself.

"We'll buy her off." Falcone shrugged.

"Not this one."

"Idealist, huh?"

"That's right." Crane nodded.

"Well", Falcone grinned wickedly, "there's an answer to that too."

"I don't want to know."

"Yes, you do. A psycho like you…"

"I AM NOT A PSYCHO!" Crane screeched, his eye twitching.

"Okay! Okay! Jeez, testy." Crane pierced his lips, shaking his fist.

"Every time someone says that word to me… I…I just die a little bit inside." There was a pause.

"Soo…Would you like some coffee or somethin'?" Crane's eyes narrowed dramatically.

"I hate coffee. I prefer tea. Herbal."

"Huh... No wonder you're such wimp." Falcone breathed.

"What was that?" Crane squinted, leaning in closer.

"Wha! I didn't say nothin'!" In the midst of the papers on the floor Crane caught sight of the thing he was looking for. He held his gaze for a long debated time then he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

'Not yet… Not yet… but soon…reeeal soon… you can bet on that…' Crane startled Falcone with smile.