Angela walked down the chilled city streets of Gotham in an attempt to find any internet café that could offer her wifi without the purchase of a beverage. She clutched her coat and her laptop bag tightly. Even in daylight the narrows were a dangerous place, especially for a woman carrying anything of value.

It had been a few days since they had cut off her internet, 24 hours since she had had anything to eat and nearly a month since a menacing, blue eyed figure had walked out of her life. Soon she would be without power in her apartment and she would be left to freeze in the winter that was headed early for Gotham.

After nearly an hour of walking she came across a shop that had the sign 'Free wifi for students!' hanging in the window. She walked over to a table near an outlet and plugged in her laptop. The smell of pastries and coffee wafted through the air and she clutched her empty stomach. She could deal with eating hardly anything. Not eating anything at all while having to study near such delicious smells, well that was a bit more difficult.

Angela signed onto her school website and pulled her textbook out of her bag. She had so many assignments to make up after being unable to sign on for the past few days. She sent her professor an apology email for not signing in the past few days and explained her lack of internet connection. She then started working furiously on getting in her assignments.

After a few hours of work and taking down notes she searched the web for any nearby locations that were looking for people to hire. She sent in applications to as many locations as she could find. She had been tirelessly applying to location after location over the past few weeks and none of them had even attempted to contact her as of yet. It felt as though it was going to be impossible to find any work.

Once Angela sent in applications to multiple locations she closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes as she breathed in the bittersweet smell of coffee and pastries. As she kept her eyes closed she heard the chair on the other side of the table slide out and someone sit across from her.

"Hey there, Med School."

Angela's eyes shot open. "Don?"

Across from her sat Don, the bartender from her job at My Alibi. He was wearing a black polo T-shirt, khaki pants, and a Dark Brown apron. On the apron was a name tag that read 'Donald'.

"You Work here?" She asked.

"Yeah, just got the job two weeks ago, after getting out of the hospital." In that moment Angela realized the healing scar that ran along the side of his forehead and went into his hairline.

"I'm real sorry about that, Donnie."

"What are you sorry for?" He smiled and ran his fingers over his scar. "Not like you did it. Besides, it makes me look a little more bad ass," he said with a wink. His smile faded a bit. "Why weren't you there that night? I know you had a shift when everything went down. Not that I'm upset you weren't there. It was dangerous, obviously." He said pointing to his scar.

Angela sighed. "It's a long, complicated story that I don't really feel like discussing."

"Ahh, had a boyfriend over that didn't wanna let you leave?" he laughed.

Angela choked on her intake of breath and Don laughed at her dismay.

"Can I get you a coffee, Angie? You seem like you could use something to drink."

"A coffee sounds great," she answered almost too quickly.

Don went behind the counter and got to work. When he came back he had her drink and a blueberry muffin on a small white plate. She practically ate the muffin in a single bite and guzzled down her coffee. When she looked up at Don he seemed concerned.

"Are you doing alright, Med School? You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"I'm Alright," she lied, "I've just been having some trouble finding a job.

"I could put in a good word for you here, if you like. I mean I just started working but they love me here."

"That would be great," she beamed.

"It's no problem," he smiled. "I'm actually really surprised you haven't found work in the past month. You're a hard worker, and you've got a pretty face," he said, sliding in the last comment. "Places should be lining up to hire you."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's like every business in Gotham is trying to avoid me. I haven't gotten a single call or e-mail back." She looked down and contemplated the pros and cons of licking the crumbs off of her plate in front of Don. Eventually she decided against it.

"Do you want me to walk you home? It's getting pretty dark out," Don said, glancing out the shop window and then to her laptop, "my shift is about over and you've got some precious cargo with you."

Angela looked around the nearly empty shop and nodded her head, "If it's not too much trouble. I don't feel exactly safe in the streets these days."

Don got up from his seat and went into the back room of the coffee shop to clock out as Angela packed her laptop and books back into her bag. Once they were out on the street Angela felt the gust of chilled wind caress her cheeks and she buried her nose into the neck of her winter coat. They walked quietly for a few minutes as they let themselves adjust to the cold before Don broke the silence.

"So about that boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my – I mean - there is no boyfriend." Angela cursed herself for her small mistake.

"Ahh," Don smiled, "So there is a guy. What's his name?"

"It's not important."

"Geez, what did he do to not even deserve a name?"

Angela sighed as they sidestepped a man in a dark green parka, asking for change on the street. "It's complicated. Let's just say he has a lot to do with why I'm afraid to be on the streets lately."

"Well hey, if you need someone to keep you safe, I'm always here for ya, Med School."

Angela smiled and stared down at the sidewalk. "Thanks, Don, but like you said at the bar that one night, I can take care of myself."

They continued walking in silence for some time. Don leaned back, hands in his pockets as he walked. He looked deep in thought. "So, if this guy isn't a boyfriend, does that mean there is no boyfriend?"

Angela laughed. "You seem awfully interested in my love life, Donald."

Don gave a sour look at the use of his name. "I just mean I'd like to take you out some time. If it's not too much trouble."

Angela gave a shy smile as they arrived at the front door of her apartment building. "I wouldn't mind that at all, Don. And thank you for walking me home." She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on his cheek. When she leaned back he had a wide smile across his face.

"I'll see you around, Med School."

She smiled as she entered her building and walked up the stairs to her apartment. The smile fled when she opened the door and attempted to turn on the lights. Her power was off, and it was freezing cold inside her apartment. Without any power her electric space heater had been shut off. It was looking to be a long and painful night.

Angela locked the door behind her and shuffled around in the darkness to get ready for bed. She cursed herself for not being able to pay the power bill and not being able to have a decent meal in days. Mostly, she cursed the Scarecrow for putting her into this situation in the first place.

She grabbed her tazer and put it on her nightstand before changing and getting into bed. She wrapped herself into as many blankets as she could find. Though she was almost warm now, chills ran down her spine as memories of weeks before overwhelmed her. All through the night she tossed and turned as she dreamed of those pale blue eyes. In her dream she felt the sting of her tazer hitting her side. The shock woke her and she quickly sat up in bed.

Angela looked around the room to see that daylight was beginning to seep in over the horizon. She slowly got up from the bed, dreading the cold that was awaiting her on the hard wood floors. But when her feet hit the ground, it wasn't cold at all. As a matter of fact, she noticed the air in her apartment was slightly warmer than usual.

She quickly pulled the rest of the covers off of herself and approached the light switch in her bedroom. She glared questioningly up at the light as it turned on and off with the flipping of the switch.

"How the hell," she mumbled to herself and opened the door to go out into the living room. As she closed her bedroom door behind her she heard a lock snap into place. She turned on her heel to look back at the door and noticed a small metal mechanism at the top of the door. She reached up towards it before a voice cut off her action.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," the unfamiliar voice said from the living room. "Not unless you're ready to take 50 milliamps from the 9 volt I've installed into that lock."

Angela cautiously walked into her living room to see a stranger sitting on her couch. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?"

The man stood from the couch with a long, question mark shaped cane in hand. He took a swaggering step towards her in his bright green suit and she took a step back towards the wall. Angela reached into the pocket of her pajama pants and cursed under her breath.

"Forgot something in the room?" The man asked as he took another step towards her. "The name's Edward Nigma, better known to Gotham as the Riddler. I'm sure you've heard of me." He reached out to shake her hand and Angela flinched back in response. He chuckled at her timid nature. "Oh boy, he really put the scare in you didn't he?"

Angela glared at him with her back pressed to the wall. Her mind quickly put the pieces together. "You work for him, for the Scarecrow?"

A scowl crossed the Riddler's face, turning his features dark and intimidating. "I don't work for anyone. Our mutual friend is more of an associate of mine, but I have my own reasons for working with him. Not for him."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

The stranger grinned. "Now you're asking the right questions. Riddle me this! People need me, but always give me away. What am I?"

Angela stared dumbfounded at the man. This really wasn't the time for riddles.

"Don't look so stupid!" Edward shouted as he closed in on her. She pressed herself as close to the wall as she could to maintain some semblance of personal space. "He told me you were clever. Please don't disappoint me by being a moron like all the other idiots of Gotham."

"Money. This is about money?" Her eyes lit up at the mere thought of having some money in her pocket again, but thinking of working for these criminals made her feel guilty and disgusted.

"Very good, Angie," he said as he tapped her on the nose and backed away from her. He took a seat on the couch and patted the seat next to him. Angela kept her place across the living room, not wishing to be any closer to this dangerously insane man. He looked up and gave a handsome smile, "I'm not going to hurt you, Miss Sterling. I promise."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "How can you expect me to trust you?"

The man let out a thunderous laugh. "Who said anything about trust? There is no trust among criminals, and you should be quick to learn that. There's only this," he said as he reached into his breast pocket and threw an envelope onto her coffee table. The envelope was so overstuffed that it fell open as it hit the table and several bills slipped from the opening.

Angela stared mouth agape at the cash on the table and slowly stepped forward to reach for the envelope. Just as she was about to grab it her wrist was taken into his hand. He didn't grab her hard enough to hurt, but there was meaning behind the gesture.

"There are conditions of course."

"And what might those conditions be?" She asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"It's all written there, inside the envelope. But the most notable condition is that you now work solely for us. If you accept this money, there is no backing out. There is no getting away or turning down any of our demands. When Jonny says jump, you say…"

"How high," she muttered the answer.

"Very good. Maybe you are as clever as he says," he replied condescendingly and released her wrist. "Do you accept?"

Angela stared down at the money on the table. The past month of suffering ran through her mind. She thought of her aching stomach and of how cold her feet were as she fell asleep last night. She thought of the months to come and of how long she would be able to survive if she were left to live on the streets. Winter in Gotham was merciless, and the criminals on the streets were even more so. She couldn't imagine herself lasting long in those conditions.

"I need an answer, Angie," he said sternly.

Her mouth formed a grim line and her brow creased in frustration. She swallowed her pride and nodded. "I'll do it."

"Haha! That's what I like to hear. Jonathan will be ecstatic." The Riddler stood and grabbed a fairly large box from beneath the coffee table. It was wrapped in black paper with an orange ribbon wrapped around it.

"What's this?" She said as she took the box from him.

"You'll figure it out." He grinned and offered his hand to her once again. She hesitated for a moment before accepting and shaking his hand. He gave a devilish smile before turning toward the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Sterling. I have other business to attend to."

"Hey, wait! What about that lock on my door?" Angela demanded as he was exiting her apartment.

"Already taken care of!" He shouted back haphazardly over his shoulder as he let the door slam behind him.

Angela paced back towards her bedroom to see that the mechanism over her door was now gone. She shook her head in confusion and went to go sit on her couch.

She grabbed the stuffed envelope off of her coffee table and pulled a letter from between the bills. She unfolded it and began to read.

Dearest Angela,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have a favor to ask of you and - as I'm sure Edward has already explained the guidelines of our negotiation - you'll find it hard to refuse. There's a gala taking place in Metropolis tomorrow evening. I would like for you to accompany me. There are very important people attending and I would like to have you on my arm to charm these guests into assisting me with some of my research. I will be waiting in front of your building at 6pm sharp.

Yours truly,

Dr. Jonathan Crane, MD

Ps. I don't like to be kept waiting.

Next to Jonathan's signature was a wax seal in the shape of a tormented jack-o-lantern. Angela threw the note back down on the table and rubbed her hand over her face. Even in writing, he seemed as arrogant as the day she met him. She grabbed the box on the table and set it on her lap. Attached to the ribbon was a small note.

I hope it's to your liking

She pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. The first thing she noticed was the silken black feathers that were attached to the collar of what seemed to be a long black cloak. She pulled the heavy cloth from the box and saw what was beneath it. Neatly folded into the box was a silken dress, the likes of which she had only seen on the most elite of Gotham's citizens. She held her breath as she ran her fingers over the luxuriously dark fabric. It was black with hints of blue and mimicked the shine of raven feathers.

"You really outdid yourself, Doctor Crane," She murmured to herself as she lifted the dress from the box. She rested her new clothing gently on the couch and reached for the envelope once more. She counted the money inside and nearly wept. It was more than she had seen in a long time.

It looked as though her financial troubles were going to be a thing of the past, but she knew better than to think all of her troubles were over. She knew that in reality, they were just beginning.

AN: So sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time. Life kind of got in the way. But I'm back for a new update and I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Don't worry, I haven't forgotten this fic. If I don't think about it at least once during the day then my day isn't over.

As per usual, reviews are greatly appreciated, as are faves and follows.