Ladies and gentleman, put your hands together for...Lisa Reisert! Who is appearing in our longest chapter yet. Ouch, my fingers...

Tory was fast asleep at her desk, her head on her keyboard. A sharp knock on her door jolted her awake.

"Oh, no," groaned Tory, scrolling up through forty-seven pages of rrrrrrrr. "Not again!"

Knock knock.

"Fine, fine!" Tory shouted, stumbling over random papers and piles of clean laundry waiting to be folded. "I'm coming!"

She opened the door to an all-too-familiar face.

"What?" she asked him dully, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms in a thoroughly hostile manner. Ah, the beauty of body language.

"Ahem, Miss Godwin…" Warner shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "How are you?"

Tory just stared at him. What did he expect? Oh, I'm just great, Dr. Warner. I really appreciate feeling like a complete fool, and being showed up by you, and crying my eyes out every night because I'm was stupid enough to fall in love with someone who's criminally insane…

"How are you?" Tory finally managed to force out in complete disbelief. "Is that it? You came to check up on me and see if I've managed to screw up my life any further? Or did you just drop by to gloat?"

"Miss Godwin, really…"

"Because I assure you, it's not necessary at all. I admitted this a week ago. You were right, I was wrong, and I paid for it," Tory interrupted fiercely, fingering the half-healed bruises that ringed her slender neck. "You've won, okay? So why don't you just leave me alone. I have a paper to write." She started to shut the door, but a shoe got in the way. A highly polished man's shoe.

Slowly Tory's gaze traveled upward. Pressed black trousers. Pristine white shirt. Tailored black blazer. Neatly knotted tie. All leading up to the most official-looking face she'd ever seen.

"Miss Godwin, I am Lieutenant Miller of the FBI." He flashed his badge and firmly pulled the door out of Tory's grip. "We need your assistance."

Lisa stumbled and almost fell down the steps in her haste to get off the plane. She'd never liked planes in the first place, and after that episode with Jack a year ago, she'd made a silent vow never to fly again.

Unfortunately for her, those FBI agents had been very, very unreasonable. And very, very convincing.

Oh, wonderful. Here came another one.

"Miss Reisert?" he asked, his face as wooden and stoic as all the rest. Lisa nodded and straightened her skirt, trying desperately to pull herself together.

"I'm Lieutenant Miller. If you'll follow me, we have a car waiting."

Ah, yes. The royal "we" of the federal government. You'd think such an all-powerful entity would have been able to spare a few minutes for her to change out of her work clothes before they'd dragged her on this cross-country adventure.

A black Buick was waiting nearby, and Miller opened the door for her. Lisa was surprised to see that the back seat already contained a passenger. She slipped through the open door and took her place beside the strange girl.

"Hi," Lisa said, flashing her a quick smile as she buckled her seatbelt. "I'm…"

"Lisa Reisert. I've heard a lot about you." The girl extended her hand and they shook. "I'm Tory Godwin."

"Tory? That's an unusual name," Lisa said as Miller started the car.

"It's short for Victoria." Tory pulled a bulging backpack onto her lap and began to rifle through it, giving Lisa a moment to study her. Tory's age was difficult to place – she could have been anywhere from sixteen to twenty. She was short and slender, with thick chestnut hair cut in cute, spiky layers that framed her face. She wore jeans, a bright orange tank, a very cropped jeans jacket and exceedingly comfy-looking white sneakers. Lisa felt a pang of envy and wished, for the fourteenth time, that she had a change of clothes.

"Any idea what this is about?" asked Tory, still digging through her pack.

"Nope, sorry," said Lisa. "Not a clue."

"Figured as much. Apple?" Tory asked, retrieving a wad of paper towels from her backpack. Shoving the huge bag back to the floor, she carefully unwrapped a delicious-looking apple.

Lisa felt her stomach growl. They hadn't given her anything to eat, either. "Please."

Tory reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. She flicked it open, and despite herself Lisa jumped slightly. Tory didn't seem to notice and started carving the apple. She gave Lisa the first slice on the knife, and Lisa gingerly removed the fruit from the blade.

"Bad associations with knives?" Tory asked casually, cutting a slice for herself.

Lisa paused, her mouth full, and stared at Tory. Tory caught the look and blushed. "Sorry," she apologized, smiling sheepishly, "I think I've picked up some of Jon's bad habits."

Lisa swallowed. "Jon?" she asked.

Tory finished cutting the second slice and also gave that to Lisa, this time with her fingers. Lisa accepted, feeling embarrassed that she was so easily read.

"Jonathan Crane," Tory elaborated as Lisa ate. "Jackson Rippner's brother."

Lisa almost choked. "I've heard about Crane," she managed to gasp, "but I didn't realize…dear God, there's two of them?"

Tory grinned impishly. "More than you know. They're twins. Identical."

Lisa shook her head in complete disbelief. "I'm sorry," she said finally, half-laughing. "It's just – there can't be two of them."

"Unfair, isn't it?" said Tory, chuckling and looking rueful. Lisa shook her head again and bent over in silent laughter, her back shaking and her curls bouncing. She didn't know what was so funny, but it sure felt good to laugh.

The car came to a halt in front of a large, imposing building surrounded by police cars. The Gotham Police Station. "We're here," Miller announced, exiting the car and coming around to open their door.

"Duh duh duh duh," whispered Tory with a giggle, throwing Lisa – who had just begun to recover – back into a laughing fit. She liked this girl.

Once inside the station, however, there was no more laughing.

"You've been called in as character experts," Miller told them as soon as they were seated in two uncomfortable chairs just in front of a long wooden desk. On the other side of the desk sat a plump man wearing a doctor's white coat and sweating buckets. Miller stood beside him. Apparently macho lieutenants didn't sit unless they had to.

"Miss Reisert, I'm Dr. Warner," said the fat man. He put his pen to the clipboard in front of him. "I need you to give me your best impression of Jackson Rippner's personality."

Lisa's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Just give the impression of Jack you made when you…er…encountered him last year."

Lisa couldn't believe this. The FBI had dragged her from Miami to Gotham to ask her what she thought about the man who'd tried to kill her?

"Couldn't you have done this over the phone?" she demanded.

"We'll explain later, Miss Reisert," Miller told her. Beside Lisa, Tory gave a quiet, unladylike snort of disbelief. "For now, please just answer the question."

Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die… "He was cocky. Full of himself. But very precise, too. He liked having a plan, and he hated it when things went wrong."

"I see," muttered Warner, scribbling. "Did he mention his brother, Jonathan Crane?"

"No. I know who Crane is, but I had no idea they were brothers." Identical twins, of all things. Yeesh.

"Very precise, you said?"

"Very."

"Likes things planned down to the second."

"Exactly."

"Anything else?"

Lisa thought a bit, trying to separate her emotions from the scenes she was reliving in her head. "He was business-like. He saw doing everything he did as just part of the job, like working at a bank or selling real estate. And he was very enamored of reason over emotion. He seemed to think that women were far more emotional than men were, and weaker." Lisa smiled. It was not a very nice smile. "Until I stabbed him."

Tory put her hands together in quiet applause. Miller glared at her and she stopped. Lisa glanced over at Tory and grinned. Tory grinned back.

"What happened after you stabbed him, Miss Reisert? Emotionally, I mean, not the actual events."

"He lost it," said Lisa quietly, smile completely gone. "Completely lost it. His one goal was to kill me. That was all. He was consumed by rage."

"You mortally wounded his pride," Tory informed Lisa.

"How do you know?" asked Lisa and Warner at the same time.

"Jon told me. He isn't at all angry at you, by the way," Tory added to Lisa. "He's mostly upset with his brother. Said that you wounded Jack's pride and he lost his temper and that he was going to pay for it with his life."

"Ah, yes, Miss Godwin, moving on to Crane…" Warner's voice was smooth, but the frantic tapping of the pen on the clipboard gave him away. He was nervous. Was he nervous of Tory? Lisa studied Tory. The girl was leaning back on her seat, arms crossed, face set into an expression of cool resentment. Yeah, there was definitely some tension between these two.

"Miss Godwin, I realize that you have been privy to information Crane did not feel comfortable giving me." Warner took a deep breath and Lisa wondered what in the world he was talking about. "I'd appreciate it if you'd share."

It words it wasn't an apology, but in tone it certainly was. Tory seemed to think about it for a second, then nodded, relaxing her tense body.

"I will, but I'm not quite sure what you want. Or what this is all about," the girl added, sounding a little irate.

"Just your general impression of Crane's character."

"Jeez," muttered Tory, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Well, he's precise. Like Jack, I suppose. Only not so much in regards to specific plans as to his life in general." Tory stopped. "Sorry, I'm not making any sense."

"Just keep going," Warner assured her, scribbling rapidly.

"Okay. Um…he's got a pretty good sense of humor. Dark and twisted, of course, but still pretty good. He likes to control people, and he uses fear to do it. He's sort of a psychological blackmailer. It isn't just the hallucinogen, either – he's been using fear for a long time." Again, Tory paused. "I'm sorry, I just really don't know what else to say. Other than that he's scary smart. And that he's not rational." Her next words were clearly directed towards Miller. "He may act perfectly reasonable and normal, but he isn't. He doesn't always know what's real and what's not. He sees things that aren't there…and he has awful nightmares…" Tory's voice trailed away, then suddenly became stronger. "He's completely out of his mind sometimes and half out of his mind the rest of the time. He's sick, okay? He needs help. So don't hurt him, all right?" Lisa was intrigued by the worry in Tory's voice. Apparently, so was Miller, who looked down at Warner as if for an explanation. As for Warner himself – was the man actually blushing?

What was going on? Lisa wondered, not for the first or the last time.

"Thank you, Miss Godwin," was Warner's hasty response. "That will do."

"Great," said Tory, smiling rather wickedly. "Always happy to help. Now…what is all this about?"

"Yes," agreed Lisa emphatically, finally allowing her frustration to seep into her voice.

Miller became, if it was possible, even more official. "Today, at approximately 1330, Jackson Rippner entered Arkham Asylum. He freed his brother Jonathan Crane – we're not sure how – and pulled the fire alarm. As the inmates and staff were evacuated, the orderlies who came for Crane were rendered unconscious. They are still in the building. Nobody noticed Crane or the orderlies' absence until roll call was taken outside. By then, Crane somehow managed to lock every door of the Asylum, effectively sealing himself and Rippner inside. We now have a hostage situation. Rippner and Crane are demanding a private helicopter and no police pursuit, or they will start killing the three men inside. We have an hour before the death of the first man. The FBI desired your character evaluations of Crane and Rippner to determine their motives, their ability to follow through with their threats, and the course of action we must take. Any questions?"

Lisa just stared. Whatever she'd expected, it hadn't been this. She thought of something.

"Lieutenant Miller, why am I here? You could have called me in Miami, or had the local police question me."

"In addition to your valuable input, the FBI desired the presence of you and Miss Godwin to ensure your safety. It is no secret, Miss Reisert, that Rippner wants revenge, and we would prefer to have you directly under surveillance during this crucial period. Now, Lieutenant Gordon will escort you to a conference room, where you will spend your time until this situation is resolved."

A thin, tired-looking man with a mustache and a kind smile abruptly appeared behind the stunned women.

"Ladies, if you'll follow me?"

"This is bullshit," Tory muttered, her head in her hands.

Lisa nodded her head in agreement. They'd been sitting in a tiny conference room for half an hour. Lieutenant Gordon had been quite nice and given them each a soda, but then he'd been called away and they'd been left all alone.

"How do you know Jon?" Lisa asked, taking a sip.

Tory stretched her arm out on the table and laid her head on it. "Long story."

"I'd like to hear it, if you don't mind."

"Sure," said Tory, straightening. "It's kind of strange, though. I've never told anyone before."

"Well," said Lisa with a smile, "let me be your first. I'm dying of curiosity!"

"It's a pretty weird story, all right. I was on a field trip for my Human Development class – I'm a sophomore at Gotham U – and I did just about the stupidest thing you can imagine."

"That would be…"

"I got lost."

Lisa laughed despite herself. She couldn't help it – the expression on Tory's face was too much.

"Sorry," she chuckled, waving her hand at Tory. "Keep going."

"I got lost and I ended up, somehow, I still don't know how, in Maximum Security, where Jon is. His cell isn't like the others – it has a huge observation window in it, and I could see that he was having a really bad nightmare. So I rapped on the glass and woke him up." Tory took a gulp of soda. "We talked for a bit, and he gave me directions out of Arkham. I had no idea who he was and never expected to see him again. But then Dr. Warner tracked me down and told me that Jon had written my name in his diary, and he eventually came up with the swell idea that I should go and visit him regularly. Sort of unofficial therapy."

"Did you know who he was?" Lisa asked.

"By then? Oh, yes. And it came as a nasty shock, too. But I went anyway, and we talked a lot – at first about psychology and politics and other things like that, but then gradually more and more about ourselves. And we became, well, friends."

"Understandable," said Lisa in her best neutral tone, long practiced upon irate residents of the Atlantic Lux. Actually, she didn't understand at all. But then, she'd only had experience with one of the twins. Maybe his brother was different.

Tory looked as if she were struggling to decide what to say. Finally she said, slowly, "Then, one day, just after he'd left therapy, Jon had a panic attack. A bad one. He was terrified out of his skull, and he kept hurting himself to try and deal, but it didn't work…" Tory's voice trailed off, her eyes filled with pain. "Dr. Warner told me not too, but I got into his cell and tried to help. And got strangled for my pains," she added with a bitter laugh.

"Strangled?" asked Lisa incredulously.

In answer, Tory pulled the collar of the jeans jacket away from her neck. On her skin were the clear imprints of hands, done in the tasteful yellow-and-green of healing bruises.

"And after that Warner wouldn't let me see him again," Tory finished dully, picking up her soda and draining it.

Okay, that accounted for some of the tension between Warner and Tory…but Lisa had a shrewd suspicion that Tory wasn't telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Still, she let it pass. Watching Tory stare down at her hands, Lisa felt a pang of sympathy. Tory didn't deserve this. A young woman shouldn't have to carry the burden of anyone's mental health but her own.

Suddenly an anomaly struck Lisa. "Sorry, Tory, but there's just one thing I don't understand."

"What?" asked Tory quickly, too quickly. Lisa was sure now that she was right. There were things Tory hadn't told her.

"It's just…how did you get into the cell?"

Tory gaped at her, jaw dropped, eyes wide. Then she started banging her head on the table.

Lisa pushed her chair back with a screech and hurried around to make her stop. But just as she reached for Tory's head the girl stopped on her own. She buried her face in her hands, back shaking madly. For one second, Lisa thought she was crying. Then she realized Tory was laughing.

"I…am so…freaking stupid," she managed to choke out between bursts of silent laughter.

"No, you're not," reassured Lisa automatically. "Wait…what are you talking about?"

Tory laid her abused head on the desk and laughed and laughed. "Oh, my God," she gasped, wiping tears out of her eyes. "I can't believe it. I can't believe it. The irony is going to freakin' kill me."

"What, Tory?" Lisa asked urgently, her hand on the younger woman's shoulders. "What is it?"

Tory sat up and turned in her chair to face Lisa. "I know how to get into Arkham," she said simply.

"You do?" asked Lisa incredulously, her heart swelling as Tory nodded. "That's great! Quick, we have to tell the FBI…" She was already heading for the door when Tory grabbed her skirt, almost making Lisa fall off her high heels.

"No," said Tory, letting her go.

Lisa turned around. "What do you mean, no?" she demanded. "Tory, people are going to die."

"More people are going to die if we tell the FBI." Tory stood up and brushed a drop of soda off of her jacket. "They'll march in and shoot everything in sight. Jon and Jack will fight back. The orderlies will be killed in the struggle, FBI agents will be killed, and finally Jon and Jack will be killed. A blood bath for the whole family."

"Tory, I know you like Jon," said Lisa in her best please-be-reasonable voice. "But he tried to destroy Gotham. He tried to kill hundreds of thousands of people. And God knows how many people Jack has killed over the years. We can't just let them get away with this."

"We're not going to."

"We will if we don't tell the FBI!"

"And then we'll be responsible for the death of three innocent men and who knows how many agents." Tory came close to Lisa and looked straight in her eyes. Lisa stared back, a little disturbed. Something was happening to Tory that she didn't understand. Something had changed. There was tension humming along her slim lines, and a curious elation in her eyes.

They stared each other down. Tory won. "All right," said Lisa finally with a sigh. "Let's hear your plan."

"Simple," said Tory, walking past her and opening the door. "I'm breaking in to Arkham. Want to come?"

Okay, I know this chapter was a little slower than usual but it was necessary. Trust me, the next one will be FUN.

By the way, if anyone's interested, most of the details of Crane's life come from the Comicverse. Him knowing kung fu (actually, in the comic they call it "violent dancing," which I'm going to play with later), the fact that he was fired from Gotham U, and that whole episode after his senior prom are all from the comic. I should only be so clever.