So, I spent more time on this chapter cause I was off ill today - hay fever sucks. Sorry for the delay and everything, and thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed! Love you guys. Enjoy the chapter:)

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.

Chapter 10

Edward scowled and rubbed the back of his head, where a lump had already formed. He opened his eyes to take in the sight before him: the bars of a cage. He tutted to himself disappointedly and stood up, brushing the dirt from his suit so that he looked more presentable. His eyes flicked around the room, allowing him to deduce that he was inside Cobblepot's second smallest hideout. It was a two-storey building, with four rooms on the bottom floor and three on the top one. It was also where Cobblepot liked to keep some of his more troublesome hostages, as the building was situated right next to the docks – an easy place to dispose of a body. He could hear the waves through the open window.

His mind wandered to the reason he was stuck in this place: Kenna Fyrian. The infuriating girl had distracted him when he was trying to flee from some of Cobblepot's thugs, and, now, he was locked in a cage. "From a cage in the asylum to a cage in Cobblepot's basement," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He was still angry at Kenna, and rightly so. After all, he had never been wrong about someone more than once.

He wondered if she had figured out his riddle. He hoped so – it would be a good alias for her. After all, she had died and come back to life seemingly twice now.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room was opened and Cobblepot himself walked through.

"I know you wanted to capture me, Cobblepot; but surely you could have done so in a more affable manner," Edward said. "Perhaps we could have arranged to have dinner, to talk things over."

"I'm not listening to anything you have to say," Cobblepot spat.

"Then I'll ask the questions, shall I?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Why on Earth have you decided to take me hostage?"

Cobblepot whipped his umbrella up so it pointed at Edward's face. "Don't play dumb with me, Nygma."

Edward fought the urge to roll his eyes – he didn't trust Cobblepot's umbrellas. Of course he knew why he was a hostage. "You believe that I killed three of your henchman and gave information of your whereabouts to Batman. Obviously it is a fatuous idea; I don't like getting my hands dirty."

Cobblepot glared at him. "You left a riddle! You can't stand there and tell me it wasn't you when–ˮ

"Really, Cobblepot, even with an IQ as low as yours you should know that such a boring and trivial riddle did not come from this mind." Edward did roll his eyes this time, now that Cobblepot was more confused than angry. "I suggest you search the opposite side of Gotham. The person who wronged you is one of my reoccurring copycats. I've been meaning to dispose of him for a while, now; but my plans were interrupted when I was admitted into the asylum."

Cobblepot didn't look convinced. "Forgive me if I don't believe you straight away," he spat, turning and stomping away from the cage.

Edward scowled at the small man's back. He never lied about anything to anyone. "How long am I to be held here?" he called out.

"For as long as I want you to stay," Cobblepot smirked, before slamming the door closed behind him.

Edward shook his head at the moronic man and walked to the door of his cage, eyeing the lock. "This is too easy," he commented, feeling slightly insulted. He was about to start working on the pitiful mechanism when an explosion shook the entire building.

Quirking an eyebrow, he strained his ears to listen to the shouts and yells of Cobblepot's henchmen. They didn't sound as scared as they would be if it was Batman infiltrating the building; so he was left to wonder away to himself as he continued to unlock his door.

After a few minutes, he was stood before the open window, listening out for any sound of the attacker. According to the lack of noise, it seemed that all of the henchmen had been dealt with, and the attacker had left.

Suddenly the door to his room slammed open, and he caught a glimpse of a dark red figure holding a flailing Cobblepot before they disappeared back where they came from. "Hurry along, darling," a voice called out. Edward's eyebrows rose. It was Kenna.

He jogged after them, catching up to them easily and finding himself unable to take his eyes off of his 'saviour'. Kenna was wearing a skin-tight leather suit that hugged her in all the right places, accenting her curves and– No! Edward mentally slapped himself. What was really most eye-catching about this suit was that it was a very deep crimson colour, and there was a golden pattern stitched into the place between her shoulder blades. Edward smirked when he realised what the pattern was. "I see you figured out my riddle," he commented. For once he wasn't irritated that she had.

"Yes, I did," she replied, a smirk evident in her tone. She tossed his hat, his domino mask, and his cane back to him and he caught them easily. "Thank you, by the way. The Phoenix is a very fitting name, I like it. Don't you?" she asked Cobblepot, tightening her arm around his neck. He choked slightly and nodded.

Edward watched as her curly brown hair bounced in time with her lengthy strides, her hips swaying with confidence and elegance. She really was a sight to behold, he had to admit.

But that didn't really concern him.

Much.

I tied the rope securely around the pole pointing out of the courthouse's roof, standing back to look at the rising sun. Feeling Nygma come to stand next to me, I smirked. "What's black and white and red all over?" I asked, loud enough for Penguin to hear.

He met my gaze and smirked as well. "A sunburned penguin."

"Let me down!" Penguin shouted. "I'll kill you both!"

I frowned down at him, watching his basically naked figure hanging from the pole. All he was wearing was his underwear. That's not a nice thing to see; but it sure is satisfying. "That's hardly a good incentive," I called down to him. Far in the distance, I heard a very distinguishable rumble. "I thought bats were nocturnal," I grumbled.

"Haven't you heard? There's a new species in Gotham that likes to come out during the daytime as well," Nygma replied.

I grunted and headed over to the ladder we had propped against the wall of the courthouse. We silently made our way into the heart of Gotham again, keeping to the alleys and infrequently travelled streets. After a while, it seemed to only just register in my mind that Nygma was still walking with me. He's following me?

As if he read my mind, he said: "Where are we going?"

I looked over at his expectant expression, frowning. I guess I do kind of owe him for being the reason he was left in the asylum... even if it was just for a few hours. And if I'm still his puzzle, and he'll still be wanting to figure me out, then I guess I'd rather have him somewhere I know than having him jumping out at me randomly. "My place," I finally answered. He nodded and kept walking with me. I was disturbed to find that I was a little relieved he didn't protest and run off on his own. You're only relieved because this way you know he won't try to kidnap you, I told myself.

No, you're relieved because you enjoy his company.

I scowled at the stupid side of my conscience and pushed the thoughts aside.

Nygma followed me into the small apartment, looking around at the living room, adjoining kitchen, and the hallway. "It's not much; but it does the job," I shrugged. There were two couches and a TV in the living room; the kitchen was pretty basic; and the hallway led to a bathroom and my bedroom. Nygma settled himself on the couch, kicking his shoes off and stretching out across the cushions. I quirked an eyebrow. "How long are you planning on staying here?" I asked him.

He met my gaze with his steady, bright blue eyes. "How long are you planning on being so mysterious?" he retorted.

So, as soon as he has me figured out, he'll leave? Interesting... "Depends on how nice you're gonna be about it."

He smirked. "I like challenges," he said. "So don't expect me to be suddenly courteous."

"You? Courteous?" I scoffed. "I wouldn't expect that in my wildest dreams." I moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for a drink.

"Why is it that people can't assume things about you; but you can assume things about them?" Nygma asked, sounding suddenly close behind me.

I closed the fridge door and turned to see him less than two feet away. I leant back against the door casually and eyed his pondering expression. "I'm a hypocrite," I shrugged. "Sue me."

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you so against people assuming things about you?" he asked quietly.

I swallowed. "You're the genius. You figure it out."

His bright blue eyes bore into my deep chocolate ones as his hand pressed against the door next to my head, the action forcing his face to come closer to mine. By now, I could see all the little details of his face, and it was making me uncomfortable. "There's such a thing as personal space, you know." It was supposed to come out strong and confident; but it was barely a whisper. What the fuck, Kenna?

Nygma continued staring at me, showing no signs that he'd heard or understood what I said. Then, finally, he dropped his hand and pulled his face away from mine a little – just enough that I wasn't feeling so uncomfortable. He kept his gaze locked on me, however, and I found myself unable to move. When it started trailing over my face and down my body, I narrowed my eyes. Is he checking me out?

Suddenly he frowned, his jaw clenching, and his hand reached out to hover over my upper arm. I quirked an eyebrow questioningly and followed his gaze, only to see that he was looking at the bullet wound I had sustained when I attacked Penguin's hideout. "Oh, yeah," I mumbled, frowning as the pain started to register in my mind.

Nygma guided me over to my couch and set about searching my kitchen cupboards. "The first aid kit's in the bathroom, Nygma," I told him. He stopped and looked over at me with an unreadable expression. "What?" I frowned.

"Stop calling me that."

"What? Nygma?"

"Yes."

"Why? It's your name, isn't it?"

He remained silent for a while, studying me. "Just call me Edward, Kenna." And with that he went through to my bathroom. I frowned down at my hands. This guy's getting weirder and weirder.

When he came back, I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realise he'd cut a hole in my suit until there was a sharp pain in my arm. "You ruined my suit!" I accused.

He rolled his eyes. "It's easily replaced, Kenna."

I couldn't help myself. The thought had been acknowledged before I could suffocate it. I like the way he says my name. Irritated at myself, I figured I could just take it out on Edward. "Not when I spent a whole day painting it and stitching that pattern into it!"

He looked up at me with a bored expression before resuming his work. His rough hands gently handled my arm as he dabbed at my wound. "The bullet's not there anymore," he said. "I'll have to stitch it up."

I nodded. "Don't enjoy this too much."

He smirked. "I'll try not to."

After a few pleasantly silent minutes, the pain finally died down a little, and Edward stood up. "There."

I looked down at the neatly bandaged wound and stood with him, feeling very tired. "Thank you."

"In return," he began, making me groan loudly. "I'd like to know how you came back to life."

I walked towards my bedroom, hearing him right behind me. "Which time?" I asked, though I wasn't going to divulge any information either way.

"The first time."

"It'll have to wait until later; I'm tired." I could feel his glare burning into the back of my head as I moved over to my bed and took out the loose t-shirt and shorts I used to sleep in. "You can have the couch."

Edward was silent for a moment. Then: "The couch?" he asked incredulously. "You don't have a spare room?"

"When I bought this place I wasn't planning on letting anyone know where it was, which means that I didn't need a spare room," I retorted, scowling at him pointedly.

"I am not sleeping on a couch after I just treated your wound."

I quirked an eyebrow challengingly. "This is my place, which means that you're gonna live by my rules. You don't want to sleep on the couch, you know where the door is. I'm not stopping you." With that, I shut my door in his face. "Goodnight, Edward." I don't expect to be seeing you any time soon.

Despite being furious with the impolite 'host', Edward couldn't help but realise that he liked the way she said his name. For some reason, that only added to his reluctance towards the idea of leaving Kenna's tiny flat.

There you go! Hope this one was better and more steady-paced than the last one. Now we can really get into Kenna and Eddie's relationship.

So I come off school on wednesday; and then I'm going to portugal for two weeks (fucking yes!) so I'll see if I can bring the laptop with me and keep writing over there:) I'll have to see if I get any internet or not in the villa we're staying in, though.

As for the Altair/OC story, thanks so much for the positive encouragement! It's definitely something I'll look into now that I know it would would have at least two readers haha.

As always, thank you all so much for the reviews, they really do mean a lot to me and I read them all thoroughly.

A special mention to Kiki, because you gave me constructive criticism and I greatly appreciated it. Thank you.

That's all I have to say, I think. I'll see if I can get a chapter done before I go on holiday; but if I don't have one out by Saturday, then be prepared to not have one until after two weeks have passed - just in case I don't get internet in portugal.

Anyhoos, thanks for reading and I'll hopefully see you all next chapter!