AN: Jonathan's got someone down in the lab again, so I'll be handling this for the time being. Scarecrow gets so grouchy if he's interrupted...-Kitty
SwordStitcher-Who...ohh. Him. Dear god, I thought Scarecrow was going to gas the poor man for copyright infringement. I got him to settle for the grocery store, but it was close.
Jasmine Scarthing-I don't believe we've met...ah. Jonathan's mentioned you. Sweetie, the man would happily work himself to death if I didn't force him to go to bed on time. Trust me, he's tried.
She gathers up the mugs and carries them to the other room. She'll scrub them out tomorrow, maybe, if they're still here tomorrow.
She gets the coffee ready for tomorrow-surely they'll be here long enough for that, or else-and gets the kitchen light. It feels like she's forgetting something…maybe it's the other lights.
She gets them, too, leaving the hallway and the bedroom. No, it's not the lights. Let's see…lights are off, mugs in the sink, coffee's semi-prepared…doors! Like they'll do anything against Batman, but they have traps set up for that.
She locks the door, hesitating a minute to watch the rain. It makes the streets look a little cleaner. Well, for Gotham, anyway.
Doors, mug, lights, coffee…oh. There's just one more thing.
She goes downstairs and pushes the laboratory door open. Jonathan Crane is asleep at his desk-she knew he would be-one hand dangerously close to pushing a vial off the edge. She moves it out of reach and goes over to his current subject. The woman is lying unconscious on the ground, her hands bound behind her back. Her gag has fallen off-or been pulled down, more likely-and she tucks it back into place. Once she's satisfied, she grabs the woman's ankles and pulls her into the makeshift cell in the corner. Better safe than sorry, after all.
There. All secure. Now she can go to bed. She's tempted to just fetch a blanket and let him sleep down here, but he'll wake up with a crick and besides, she hates sleeping by herself. What can she say? She's never liked to share him, even with a desk.
"Jonathan? Wake up, love."
He's not awake, not really, but at lease she can guide him upstairs and into bed. Well, somewhat-the second she lets go of him he drops down and refuses to move.
"Jon-a-than." she grumbles. "Wake up, you're not sleeping in these." For heaven's sake… "Fine. But don't you dare complain, it's your own fault."
Why does she always have to do everything?
"Ki-Kitty?"
"Mm." Is it really necessary for him to wear the button-ups all the time? What's wrong with a t-shirt?
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
"Not now."
"Yes, now." Where did he get this? He didn't have it yesterday. If she has to tell him to be careful around broken glass one more time… "Wait…no. I'm just getting you into pyjamas."
"Oh."
He makes no move to take over. Whatever.
It takes longer than she would have liked to strip him and get him into pyjamas, but that's because he's being uncooperative.
When she comes back from washing her face, he's still semi-awake. She wishes he'd make up his mind.
"Go to sleep, love."
"Trying."
She shoves him over a bit-like it matters, she's going to sleep on him anyway-and settles under the covers.
"Sweet dreams, then."
"Lights off?"
"Mm-hm."
"Coffee?"
"Mm-hm."
"Door locked?"
"Mm-hm."
She clicks off the light and he shuts up. Well, for a few minutes. Then…
"Oh, god, there's a subject…"
"I got her. Go to sleep."
Surely that's not wonder in his voice when he says, "You got her?"
"Yes. Go to sleep."
"Oh."
Goose. She shakes her head and settles down. Bedtime. At last.
THE END
