AN: One. Word. Just one. Then it's...SCHULLLK! What? You know, the noise people make when they draw a finger across their throat? Whatever, Scarecrow.

SwordStitcher-It's because Batman's sexy. You must be joking. That ninja suit...and that cowl...and that gravely voice... You are joking, aren't you? Of course I'm joking, he wears eyeshadow. Thank god for that.

Voodoo-Mutant-Child-Oh, that's nothing. One subject once- Kitty... got out of the cage- Stop now. and ended up flinging her bra at Jonathan to distract him. Stop laughing! It was hilarious. It was not. It hit him in the face. She died horribly.

Just-Me-and-My-Brain-Tim? Who's Tim? Does he have a last name? Can I kidnap him and make the Bat panic? Sounds like Joker did that already. Damn. My thoughts exactly. He ruins everything. Alas. Ah, well, another time...

Aki The Crane-I've always preferred milk chocolate, myself. I hate chocolate. What's wrong with a nice red wine for dessert? I hate sharing with you. Just because you have the mental age of a five year-old... I DO NOT!

If anybody notices the dented chair, nobody says anything. They brought another chair for Crane a while ago, and he fell asleep in it. Batman's tempted to take him in now, while he can't do anything about it, but he doesn't. It'll be easier to take them both at once. And safer. He doesn't really like leaving them unattended.

Crane's little nap is cut short when Kitty coughs. That drags him upright, the mostly empty coffee cup nearly slipping from his fingers.

"Kitty?"

She doesn't seem to be awake and he settles back into his chair. Batman sighs and wishes she'd hurry up about it. This chair is uncomfortable.

"You can leave now."

As if. He's not leaving them alone, surrounded by helpless civilians.

He snorts and Crane closes his eyes again.

"I didn't think you would."

This is ridiculous. She's not going anywhere, she's perfectly stable, and he needs to be back out there! He supposes he could drag him out, but that toxin…no, best to just sit here and wait.

"Do you always have to brood?"

"Humph."

"You must have been severely traumatized if you're dressing up like a caped ninja and chasing after us." Why can't he go back to sleep? He was tolerable when he was sleeping. "What was it? Death in the family? Hostage situation?"

"Shut up, Crane."

"Ah, I've struck a nerve." Smug little… "If I were to guess, I'd say parents, but…"

"Shut up, Crane."

He smirks and sets the cup on the table.

"I thought so."

Batman doesn't answer. Crane takes something out of his sleeve and starts twisting it around in his hands. Toxin.

"Drop it."

"No."

He could make him, maybe, but he doesn't really want to be gassed. Besides, Crane's not doing anything with it. Yet.

When he looks over again, Crane has fallen back asleep, slumped over the bed. The canister is clutched loosely in his hand. He should take it, but he doesn't want to startle him.

"Hullo, Batman."

"Miss Richardson."

"You clash with the décor."

He rolls his eyes.

"You look well."

"In what world do you live in, sunshine?" She moves her hand so it's resting on Crane's head. "Thank you, by the way."

For what? He's just been sitting here, feeling the dent in the chair.

"Hm."

"You still clash horribly." She yawns. "Please go away, I don't like strange men watching me sleep."

He isn't sure what she's implying. Should he be insulted?

No.

"I can't."

"I could scream for security."

"You won't."

"But I could." They stare at each other. She finally settles down and mumbles, "At least stare at something besides me. Stare at the wall."

Whatever.

God, this chair is uncomfortable.

THE END