Stan was flicking over channels before finally settling on one, idly watching. He'd turned on the captions so he could know what was going on. Not even ten minutes later though, Ford was starting to move in his sleep.

"Hey," he pushed on his shoulder until the other woke up.

Ford blearily started blinking, squinting as he glanced around the room.

"You good?"

"Fine," he mumbled in response, sitting up just a bit. "What's on?" He asked, nodded his head at the TV.

"Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai or something across the 8th dimension." Stan told him, settling back into his spot and watching the TV again. "It reeks of the 80s."

Ford hummed, but said nothing else.

After a short while, Stan checked back over at Ford who had fallen back asleep.

The rest of the night went by pretty slow. He woke up Ford a few more times, one time he stayed up for a half hour watching TV with him, but the rest he'd fall back to sleep within two minutes.

The next few days while Ford was sick went all about the same way. Whenever Stan came back to the apartment, Ford switched between his books and sleeping. He decided to stick on the couch with Ford when he slept.

He couldn't say that he wasn't a little nervous himself for a repeat of a couple days ago, but the last thing he needed was becoming a wreck because he wanted to avoid sleep. They both managed through three nights pretty easily though. Stan didn't get so much as one nightmare, and if Ford did then it apparently wasn't enough to deter him from sleeping.

...

Stan walked into the Lounge and right to Oswald's private room. He knocked and waited for a responsed before walking in to find Oswald looking down at some newspaper with a sour look.

"Oh, hey, you're looking chipper."

"Undoubtedly - have you seen this yet, Stanley?" He said, pointing down to the paper.

"No, what is it?" He walked over to scan the paper. "Blah, blah, blah, 'new city law being proposed'... 'break up the monopoly plaguing our night life.'" He finished, frowning at the problem.

"As always, spearheaded by Wayne Enterprises too - ' break up the monopoly .' Why, they're the biggest monopoly of them all in this town!" Oswald said, his flipper tapping the paper.

"I'll say, it's getting hard to turn a block with a building that isn't funded or owned by that place." Stan agreed, before pointing down at the paper. "This though? We can bypass that, easy."

"How so?" Oswald asked, looking over at him.

"Start turning your other clubs around." Stan explained, as he used air quotes. "'Sell' the clubs to the managers there as tenants, let them become their own businesses name-wise, then set up partnerships to keep everything connected. It's gonna be a truckload of paperwork, but by the time the bill passes you'll already be in the clear."

He hummed, thinking over the idea. "Split apart the operations and put them under different names."

"Yup. They tried pulling this same monopoly buster number on pubs a few years back in the UK when I was there." He nodded.

"Well, better to take care of this now before the bill inevitably passes. Thank you, Stanley."

"Don't mention it, b-er, Mr. Cobblepot." He barely caught onto the slip this time.

The man folded up the newspaper again. "Would you go wait by the front door. Jonathan is coming by today."

"Bring the Professor back here like usual?" Stan asked, already taking a few steps back.

"Precisely." Oswald confirmed.

Stan gave a salute back, one hand casually set inside his coat pocket as he spun around on his feet to head back out the door towards the open room of the nearly empty club. Jonathan probably wouldn't be coming by for another half hour knowing him.

Not that Jonathan didn't ever really seem to care about having someone when he arrived. Throwing out the first couple times he'd greeted him, the guy didn't even bother pausing for him, heading straight for the backroom. Oswald liked all that though. Proper invitations, proper greetings, that sort of old class jazz.

Stan actually didn't have to wait that long, the redhead coming by soon enough. Stan started a couple steps towards him, preparing to turn around with him as per usual.

Jonathan seemed to pause for a half second when he saw him though, but continued on his way. Then he actually stopped in front of him.

He turned his foot back when the other just stopped. "Hey there, Doctor Crane, always good to see you swing by." He greeted the other.

"I don't easily cancel plans when I have the choice."

"The asylum, yeah, I get what you mean." Stan said, with a crooked smile. He gave a small gesture ahead before, turning and starting off with Jonathan walking beside him.

He couldn't help noticing that he was eyeing him over. Which was mostly because Jonathan wasn't doing a single thing to hide the damn fact. Definitely wasn't the detached manner he'd had around Stan the past months either.

"That haircut is new, isn't it." Jonathon commented lightly.

"Uh, yup, sure it. I got it cut a few days back or so." He replied.

Jonathan hummed. "You got back rather recently, didn't you? Oswald only mentioned it in passing, he didn't quite say where or why you were gone. A week is quite some time though."

Okay, was he purposefully trying to skeeve him out? Not that Stan wouldn't put it past him honestly, but why? Maybe just a smidge out of spite, Stan put on the most comfortable smile he could. He hummed affirmatively as he looked over to Jonathan, casually gesturing with one hand. "I went to see family, you know." Then without hesitating. "They're in Nebraska, it was a bit of a drive."

"Oh, really, what part of it?"

"Syracuse actually. You ever been, doc? It looks pretty dead this time of year, but it's still nice." They were going up the steps now, away from the rest of the club.

"Not Syracuse, no. You have to be careful where you wander though, you know, Stanley." There was no change in his voice, but the next part stuck out all the same as though there had been. "Or where you conduct your business."

"Oh, of course, yeah. I agree completely. Oh!" Stan stopped by the door, feigning mild shock. "What would you know, we're already at the door. Nice chat though, let's do it again sometime." He said smiling broadly to him before turning his attention to the door and knocking.

"Come in." Oswald responded.

Stan opened the door, politely holding it open for the other whose attention finally switched to Oswald as the other greeted him inside.

Stan closed the door, letting out a silent breath through his nose.

As Ford got better, he started to actually think that Bill was staying away for now. Not something he'd been expecting, if he was honest. There were a few nightmares, but judging by the abstract content and how easily they faded away from his mind they were likely from his fever.

Bill had said he had other plans, but... Ford was suspecting that the dream demon actually hadn't thought so far ahead. At the very least, he didn't actually have anything prepared for the possibility of Ford moving to Gotham.

It didn't even seem like Bill had possessed him once since he'd left Gravity Falls. Stanley had spent nearly every night beside him on the couch. He'd once offered him the bed to sleep in while he was sick, but Ford declined.

If he was honest with himself, having Stanley by while he slept was comforting, even if the other was asleep as well. He felt certain that if Bill possessed him that Stan would wake once the other stood up from the couch. It was the only reason that he felt any certainty whatsoever that Bill actually hadn't possessed him during his sleep so far.

Of course, he was also certain Bill would possess him again. It was just a matter of time. However, for now he actually had time. He could figure something out without risk of the portal activating because of one misstep in the night.

He was currently standing beside Stan in the small kitchen, keeping a blanket wrapped around his shoulders even as he put bread in the toaster and the pair of them were debating.

"It's juice though." Stan gestured at him with the plastic jug.

"Yes, I know, but that doesn't automatically mean it's healthy." He pointed to it. "There, just look on the side, Stanley. There's an immense amount of sugar in it."

Stan rolled his eyes, pulling out a plastic cup and a chipped coffee mug from the cabinet. "It's Orange juice. It's good for ya, builds up your immune system or whatever. Next, you'll be saying none of the juices are actually good."

"Well, technically speaking-"

"Oh my God, Sixer."

"I'm telling you. The sugar , Stanley-" A distinct ring cut him off, rather than coming from the phone he'd installed though it seemed to be coming from Stan himself who had paused.

"Is that a mobile phone?"

Stan cleared his throat, setting down the jug of juice and pulling out the large phone from his coat pocket. "Uh, yeah, I got it for work." He said before checking the screen with a slight exhale. He walked off and answered the phone. "Hey, Lou... Whaddya want and how's likely is it to break?"

Ford oddly watched him, listening to as much of the half conversation as he could hear before Stan went into his room. He turned his attention back to the juice on the counter and poured some juice into both of the cups before setting it back into the refrigerator. He tapped his fingers on the counter, staring at the toaster before needlessly checking on the pot of soup warming up on the stove.

There was just a slight feeling of something being off, but... he was just being paranoid as he had been whenever Stan mentioned work since Bill's 'warning.'

Sure, pagers were much more common for job practices, but this was just a phone. In retrospect, it made sense now why he hadn't already found a phone inside the apartment before.

When Stan came back, he noticed both cups filled up and picked up the plastic cup to take a sip. "Orange juice, huh," he pointed to Ford's mug of orange juice with the hand holding onto his own cup, "you know that stuff is packed with sugar, right?"

He couldn't stop a snort from coming out of his throat, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Stan smiling as he took another sip from the cup.

The week finished out, which even when Stan started sleeping in his own room there still seemed no instances of possession. Rather quickly the next week filled up as Ford spent time on campus, getting into the resources he had now. There were also some papers and other job responsibilities he would get bothered with. Soon, it was even time for his first class, something he'd frankly not been thinking much about.

He uncomfortably introduced himself briefly before starting to talk about derivatives and turning towards the board. When he turned back around though, he noticed a student with a hand already raised.

"Oh, uh, yes?" He pointed to them.

"Professor," they started, "what about the syllabus?"

"Oh." He'd never made a syllabus. "...Well, of course. Everybody get out a piece of paper." Ford quickly recovered, walking to the other side of the chalkboard to write out quick and important points. Class time. Scheduled office hours. Then the smaller essential notes. No attendance grade. Allowing multiple retakes on tests. Extra credit opportunities.

He had the ideal class syllabus down within five minutes. Ford allowed students time to catch up as he repeated himself concisely. Afterwards, he walked back to the other side of the board. "Now, I remember how irritating syllabus day was for me, so no worries. We aren't going to be wasting the whole class on that. We can get through a chapter if we keep on track. Now, back to derivatives!"

After a few classes, he found it all to be- well, he wouldn't say comforting, but he settled in the familiar atmosphere.

It also felt like he was getting a definitive chance to breath again. There was no possession lately, and he could handle any of the nightmares.

Ford had even moved all his books and papers to the office provided to him. It was small and he found the remains of some supplies from the previous teacher.

He had to assume this office was regularly rotated over newly hired professors that left after their first semester. To his surprise though, the small office was not nearly as cramped as he had expected. It even had a window that looked out over a small area of campus. Additionally, it was in close proximity to the building where his classes took place.

There was a desk with drawers and a table beside that with file cabinets crammed underneath it. The chalkboard against the wall, he half suspected had been stolen from some department. This was nicer than the last time he'd been on a campus. Gotham University was far more -ahem- funded than Backupsmore had ever been. Everything here was understandably better in comparison.

Not to mention, the resources he had free access to now. Thankfully, the library kept a record of books checked out. Which meant if Bill tried to erase important information that he found then Ford could just find another copy of the book. He had to bring back the books he'd initially taken due to this rule. Apparently, the librarian had forgotten to check him out that night.

The classes too, although it did eat up a fair amount of time, the subject came to him so easily that he could go off of his memory. As well, he just continued his own research into possible demon wards during office hours, which he could just pause on if a student knocked on his door.

Ford was in the middle of a chemistry lecture when a fire alarm went off. Some students immediately stopped and rushed to grab their stuff, while others leisurely took their time.

"Remember, the fire exit is down the hallway and out the double set of doors. That'll be it for class today." He was almost a little irritated. Trying to reign class back inside after the fire alarm stopped would be more trouble than it was worth. He'd continued talking about molecular structures next time though.

He herded all his students out of the room, before going back to grab his own things. All things considered, he wasn't that worried. The room wasn't far from an exit. Besides, this was probably just a drill. Slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, he walked out into the nearly empty hallway. A few students lingered despite the blaring alarms. Unusual, but they were all close to one exit or another so he couldn't be too concerned.

He was walking to the exit, planning out the rest of the day, when there was an unexpected shift of noises in the hallway behind him that caught his attention. The fire department, possibly. He stopped to turn back, tensing up at what he saw.

Just turned around the hallway was 'Scarecrow' with the same two men from the night before.

The one student that had been walking stopped and inched back to the wall. Another crossed the hallway and into an open classroom. Anyone who hadn't noticed the men before certainly did now. Even the calm students stopped what they were doing to uneasily watch them.

Should- Shouldn't the students...? None of them were leaving. Even the one that had ducked into the classroom, was still peeking out the door. He didn't understand why none of them mad an effort to leave, especially the one leaning right beside an exit.

Scarecrow surveyed the hallway's occupants, his gaze stopped straight down the hallway in Ford's direction. "Nigel," he snapped his fingers and pointed right at Ford, "there."

Oh, no .

One of the men started his way- and every single person scattered through the hallway looked over at Ford.

Ford turned, pushing the door open and sprinting out. There was a distant crowd to the left of the building, and no building close enough to provide cover. He jumped over the railing of the small set of steps, and ran around the corner of the building to at least get himself out of a direct line of sight.

He could already hear the door bar clacking as it was pushed open again. His mind quickly compiled a frustratingly small list of everything he knew about Scarecrow. Real name, Jonathan Crane. Ex-professor, likely at this university... Stole hallucinogen drugs.

Why hadn't he asked Stan more about him?! Why had the masked man singled him out? He'd have to assume he recognized him from that night. What was he originally here for though? It was a chemistry building, but all the labs were in another building entirely.

He heard some yells not terribly far behind him, but ignored them in favor of turning around another corner to the back of the building. Straight ahead was a chest high platform with a railing at the top, to the left was a street and a couple buildings he knew nothing about.

Ford pushed himself up onto the platform and swung himself over the railing without missing a beat. There was a set of stairs at the other end, but if he ducked back inside he could get into a classroom without notice.

He was heading straight for the closest door, his hand reaching out for it when it burst open, the loud ringing spilling out into the air along with the second man who immediately spotted him.

Ford leaned back to stop and turned around, only to see the other man that had been originally chasing him, now coming from that end of the platform.

Jump! He barely got his hands onto the railing before he was roughly pulled back by the collar of his trench coat.

"Woah, woah, not so fast there!" The man's hand stayed gripping onto his coat even after he moved him away from the railing.

Ford envisioned himself jumping over the railing, but he logically knew it'd be unsuccessful. He needed to calm down, think sensibly.

"Nice catch," the man, Nigel apparently, said as he casually walked the rest of the way over.

Meanwhile, Ford breathed through his nose trying to figure out the situation between his very limited knowledge. His mind quickly ran over the worst possibilities, most of which involved Bill, of course.

Then the door opened again, blaring alarms coming at full volume as Scarecrow came out.

"Hey Boss, we caught 'im." The one moved him a bit for example to Ford's extreme distaste.

He was half tempted to attempt another lunge for the railing. He forced himself to stay focused on Scarecrow though, something he almost regretted as he did it. Frankly, he didn't know which was worse. The obvious manner in which the masked man looked him over, or the eye contact established shortly afterwards.

Ford folded his hands behind his back while still looking back at him. All his nerves were either screaming at him to run or to check every potential threat. "If you do not mind," he started professionally, lungs straining for larger breaths of air that he didn't allow himself, "I would prefer to go now."

There was a slight change in his behavior that Ford couldn't pin down. His best guess was his response had taken him off guard, but the reply didn't display that in the slightest.

"I would think you already understand that's not quite happening." He said before turning for the stairs. "Nigel, get the car."

Ford's heart clawed its way into his throat as he was pushed along after Scarecrow. Vaguely, he noticed the other glancing back at him, but he had to figure out a way out while he still could.

Nigel walked past his boss and down the stairs, and Ford looked ahead to see the only car in sight which was parked in the single lane road. At their current rate, Nigel would take half a minute to reach the car.

He could try to make a break just before the stairs and go over the other side of the railing, but he'd have to get free first. The hold on his coat held tight and the man had nothing else in his other hand. If Ford pulled his bag over his head and moved out of his coat in one movement to run then there was a plausible chance he'd break free.

Scarecrow was right in front of them though. Nothing in his hands, but the last thing needed was to get hit with a hallucinogen spray. He could have it hidden on him. Getting captured seemed a worse alternative though, so he'd just have to move fast and try not to breath anything in.

Distant police sirens rung in the air, but they weren't close enough.

Another five feet would give him his best shot at- the man holding him was pulling something out with a metallic click then Ford felt something hard press against his upper back.

All his thoughts evaporated from the abrupt knowledge that a metal barrel of a gun was pointed at his vital organs.

The details of his surroundings blurred as he let himself be lead down the steps and into the car. He was pushed into the backseat, and he had a half-finished thought about going out the other door that he let go as the man got in beside him and the car started off.

A minute into the ride Ford belatedly realized he should have focused on the car's turns. He looked over at the window, but it was hopeless. They could have been anywhere in the city and he wouldn't know it. The rest of the ride frayed at his nerves as he failed to focus on what the purpose of this likely was.

They soon stopped at some sort of nondescript warehouse and the man beside him got out of the car. "Come on."

Ford climbed out of the car, thankful he wasn't immediately grabbed again and quickly understanding the likely reason why. The only thing behind them was an open parking lot and the only escape option was the warehouse they were already walking towards. The inside of the warehouse was predictably rather dark, but there was some light filtering in through a patchwork of holes in the high ceiling.

Scarecrow started talking now, to him apparently. Or, honestly, just to himself. Ford had a hard time telling. "A bit rushed, yes, but waiting around there was hardly an option." He dismissively waved a hand as he continued. "Those bumbling police may be slow, but they're not that slow."

"What do you want?" Ford asked directly.

He paused, looking back to him. "Oh, I'm not planning to kill you if that's what you're worrying about. Perhaps introductions would help."

"I would really rather not." The last thing he needed was to get involved with- well anybody.

"I suppose it's not necessary." He replied nonplussed. "You're new at the university, I assume. 'Stanford Pines, right'?"

The man already knowing his name just pushed this situation into the far worse category of possibilities. Ford folded his hands behind his back and locked his arms in place. "What do you want?" He asked him again.

The mask must have been fitted to his face in some manner because he could tell that he was smiling now. "I'm not planning on directly harming you either, you know." He added jumping around the question as though Ford didn't already feel uneasy enough.

The door was pushed open to a relatively small room. Inside there was a man sat down at a table fully set up with a teapot and some nicer cups.

The blond man had a large top hat with a card tucked into its band as well as a comically large bow tie. The collar of his green shirt was popped up so high that it nearly reached his ears. He brightly regarded them as they entered, happily standing up from his seat.

"Oh! You took less time than I expected." He said to Scarecrow before looking over at Ford, interesting springing up on his face. "Oh, hmm," he walked around the table with the express purpose of looking at him. "Isn't that curious?" He asked Scarecrow.

"What?" Ford questioned.

The man looked back to him. "Oh, don't sound so wary. It's unexpected, but not unpleasant! Quite the opposite, in fact, I assure you." He told him sincerely. "My name is Jervis, come, come - sit down." He said, going towards him to grab him.

Ford took a couple steps back, but Jervis disregarded the obvious attempt to avoid him. He pushed him towards the three chairs crowded around one corner of the table and into the one on the left before seating himself in the middle chair. He busied himself with pour tea, humming a few bright notes.

Quietly as he could, Ford scooted his chair away to have something more substantial than the partially invaded elbow space he currently had.

The two larger men stuck beside the door they'd come through... which Ford quickly realized was the only door this room had.

"How sweet do you like your tea?" Jervis asked him.

"I don't need any tea." Ford told him.

"Nonsense!" He objected. "You can't be at a tea party and not have tea!" He dropped a cube into the cup nearest to Ford. "Jonathan? One cube or two?"

"Two." He answered, going to sit down in the remaining chair on Jervis' other side. He removed the mask, keeping it on his knee and reveal his distinct red hair.

Jervis dropped a couple cubes into Jonathan's cup as well as his own, before pushing their respective cups towards them.

The man had put him into this specific chair. Could the cup have been lined with something..? It hardly mattered, he decided, he refused to drink the tea even if it wasn't poisoned.

"Are you new to town? Or well-hidden?" Jonathan questioned, picking up his own cup.

Ford ignored his tea, watching Jonathan. "Obviously, I wouldn't be well-hidden if that were the case." He replied neutrally.

"New to Gotham then." Jervis helpfully concluded aloud, taking in his own tea.

"Then you're a new professor there, Stanford." Jonathan said.

" Ford ," he corrected him, "but yes. I suppose that's where you were previously employed."

"Ah, so my reputation precedes me." He said. "I'm curious, tell me, what did you hear?"

Frustratingly little, Ford thought to himself. He wished he'd asked Stan more questions. "Not very much. I know your name and that apparently you frequently escape imprisonment."

"Well, I'd prefer it to at least be known that I was a professor of psychology."

"You didn't teach Chemistry?"

"I majored in both, but my doctorate was in psychology."

"What is it you teach?" Jervis asked him.

"Calculus and Chemistry, but neither are my primary fields." He eyed the table over for anything that one of them could potentially pick up. The worse thing was just a heavy teapot, it seemed.

"Well then, what fields?" He took another sip. "I specialized in neuroscience, myself."

"I- wait, you did?" Ford asked, looking over to Jervis.

He hummed. "Yes. I was a researcher for Wayne Corporations until Batman ruined everything for me." Jervis finished with a sour look down into his tea.

"What sort of research did you get into?" Ford asked, growing curious. Frankly, he hadn't been expecting the man to have been a researcher of any kind, though admittedly he didn't have any reason to believe he wouldn't.

"I was developing a piece of hardware to control others." He tapped at his hat. "With a band around the head and chip placed against the subject's head - I can manipulative their brain waves and puppet the other."

"Oh! I created something-" he stopped himself from mentioning the ties, later than he would have liked. He coughed, quickly trying to continue. "I ah, I created a few diagrams once for a similar idea." He finally said.

"Diagrams, did you? I should like to see them at some point. Although, I assure you, only out of curiosity." Jervis perked up more then. "Is neurology your speciality as well then?"

"Sorry, no. I didn't major in it at all. It was for an old class assignment, I don't have the papers with me anymore."

"That's a shame. Do you remember the design?"

"It was largely circuitry-based, I couldn't tell you too specifically." Ford dismissed, though he could easily recreate it, he was sure. "Essentially though, I matched up the somatic nervous systems to one another so that one person controlled both simultaneously."

"Interesting. I originally tested on rats so I hadn't considered a direct link." Jervis commented. "You see, my design evolved around influencing the mind and implanting suggestions as guidelines without actively controlling the other's actions. I can even control multiple subjects at will."

"Do you have to maintain focus on the subjects or will the suggestions stay regardless?" Wait- none of this was even relevant. He was getting utterly sidetracked. He glanced to the cup of tea.

"The suggestions stay as long as the chip does." Jervis answered shortly before motioning to Ford's cup encouragingly. "Try the tea before it goes cold."

"I'm really more of a coffee person." Ford said plainly. "The last time I had tea- I stopped drinking tea a while ago."

"All the more reason for you to try it then. At least a sip to see if you like the flavor." He insisted.

"I'm really quite fine." He declined again, purposefully pushing the cup further away by its saucer. As soon as he was pushing the cup away, Jonathan looked down to his hand.

Ford pulled his hand back and put it underneath the table, suspiciously glancing at Jonathan, but saying nothing.

"What were your degrees in again?" Jonathan questioned.

He hesitated. "I have a few, but Chemistry is one of them."

"Are you a doctor of any?"

"All of my degrees are doctorates." Ford answered simply.

"Really?" Jonathan smiled slightly, sounding impressed. "Well, you're a bit of surprise."

Ford pushed down a slight satisfaction, trying to ignore it'd even cropped up in him int he first place. "How is that?" He asked warily, keeping his guard up.

"That's not a comment to worry about, you know." Jonathan started, ignoring yet another question. "You seem highly suspicious. Is that normal for you or were you warned?" He continued casually. "Both times I saw you, you were very quick to run."

"Consider the fact that I am currently a hostage, I would say my lack of trust would be considered understandable." Ford replied icily. "The situation warrants suspicion. Especially considering the lack of straightforward answers."

Jonathan took the comment in stride, finally answering the question. "I simply wasn't expecting someone so educated, I suppose. You're smart, professor." He took a sip from his tea before plainly adding, "and you're not a hostage."

"Kidnapped then."

"Yes, although, had I known more beforehand, I may have done this differently." He said, unashamed. "Surely, you can understand my suspect though."

"What do you mean?" Ford asked him slowly. "Did-" No, either Bill was involved or he wasn't. He couldn't just go asking anyone about him. " Why did you kidnap me?"

Jervis was the one that answered. "Well, he thought you were Stanley."

Ford's hands curled up on his knees, tension rising in his shoulders. "What?"

"When I saw you initially, it was dark and I'd mistaken you for your- you two must be twins, surely. It's always suspicious to find someone having trailed you, of course. Especially so when it's seemingly a friend's employee disguised." Jonathan openly told him, scrutinizing Ford as he talked. "Oswald didn't tell me anything so I could only assume there was a plot."

His mind jumped full force to Bill's warning, the one he'd been pushing to the back of his head this whole time. Ford hated that Bill had been telling the truth, even if only because he knew Ford wouldn't believe him. Actually, that made it feel like Bill had played him again which made him feel like he'd been even more oblivious.

"Oswald who ?" He pressed. "Who's Oswald?"

"You don't know?" Jonathan asked, seemingly genuinely taken aback.

Ford simmered, glancing to the table and away. He'd never even asked Stan a single question about his job. Nothing aside from when he would go or come back.

His hands clenched into fists on top of his knees. With a breath, he focused back on the table again. "Whatever is going on- I am not involved in it."

"Then why were you trailing me that night in the first place?" He questioned.

"I saw a scarecrow man breaking into a campus building when-" he let out a frustrated breath, "It was odd so I wanted to see what was going on."

Jervis put out a hand. "You should take a cup even if you don't care for it, tea soothes the nerves."

Ford barely bit down on a sharp comment, instead pushing down on the table with a hand to stand up. He couldn't see them, but he knew that standing up had very likely earned the attention of the men by the door.

"Apologies," he said curtly, "but I believe I should take my leave now."

"It's a shame to leave a tea party early." Jervis said.

"Well, if one can't be at a tea party without having tea then by that logic I wasn't at the tea party at all." Ford said.

Jonathan watched him for a long moment, Ford watching him right back.

"You aren't a hostage," he said, "although I thought you would at least want an answer to your question."

"I'll figure it out on my own." Ford said neutrally.

"Good luck then, professor." He finally said.

Ford removed his hand from the table, a tense worry dissipating slightly. "It was nice meeting you both." Ford said, purely as a leeway so he could walk off.

"Do come to the next tea party!" Jervis called after him as he walked off.

Ford folding his arms behind his back as he got close to the door, uneasily watching the two men. However, neither one attempted to stop him as he went through the door. He only looked over his shoulder once he heard the door shut to ensure nobody had sneaked out the door after him.

Letting out a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands before briskly walking back to the exit.

AUTHOR NOTES:

AKA the chapter in which ford gets kidnapped (and then gets a bit upset bc of flipping course it's /tea./)

I'm excited though! We're getting into the Gotham adventures now, and this is just the start.

Also just as an fyi, the next update will probably take over a month since I'll be going on a 10 day trip soon. Love you all!