Against Edward's wishes, Penelope had agreed to spend a sleepless night in Aaron's guest bedroom. As soon as the sun had risen, she had gone with Aaron back to her apartment to do the walkthrough with Renee and Schrader. As she suspected, despite the mess they made, whoever had ransacked her apartment hadn't stolen anything. As she also suspected, Renee and Schrader were no closer to finding the culprit than they had been the previous night. Renee had sworn that they would though. Once the walkthrough was complete, she pulled a suitcase out of her bedroom closet, packed a few changes of clothes and some toiletries. Only the essentials, Edward had said. She put her important documents and her laptop in her briefcase and, after one last look over, followed Aaron down the stairs to his waiting car, away from Renee's look of regret, and Schrader's cold, if polite, nod. Step one was complete. Now to step two.

As agreed on last night, Aaron drove her directly to GCPD. When they parked into his spot in the front parking lot, just under the shade of the great tree, Aaron shook his head. "I don't like keeping the Commish out of the loop like this," he said. "You sure you don't want to tell Gordon what we're up to?"

Penelope sighed. This had been a point of contention between him and Edward last night. "I don't like it either Aaron, but the fewer people who know, the better. Until we find out who in GCPD is in Strange's pocket, we can't risk telling anyone." She hadn't even told her own mother yet. That was going to be a fun conversation when this was all over. She let out a long yawn. God, she was so tired. "Let's get this over with." She unbuckled herself and opened the passenger door before Aaron could respond.

The ever-present hum of the GCPD bullpen sounded even more overpowering to Penelope as she entered GCPD. Or perhaps that was her own nerves, fraught as they were. She walked the same path past the bullpen to the Commissioner's office that she had a hundred times before, her gaze darting to look at the faces of the men and women inside. She'd scarcely paid attention to most of them before, but now she felt exposed, hunted. Who was it? Who was the one who had broken into her apartment? Who had stolen the TITAN? Had they simply been following orders, or had she made them hate her enough for them to enjoy making her life Hell? Most of the assembled officers didn't look up as she passed, and the few who did only offered the most basic nod of the head or spoken pleasantries. What had been routine to her before made her heart pound just that much harder. She kept her gaze level and ahead of her. Aaron's solid footsteps behind her were her only comfort as she stopped outside of Gordon's office. She wet her lip and knocked on the door. Keep focused on the task at hand. Be natural. "Yes?" Gordon's familiar gruff voice called from within.

Penelope took a quick breath. "It's Dr. Young, Commissioner."

"Of course, come in."

Penelope opened the door and entered, Aaron following behind her. Gordon had been sitting at his desk, but quickly got up to approach her. "You look like you haven't slept a wink," he said, not unkindly. "How are you holding up?"

Penelope had showered, pulled back her hair, and put on the same clothes she had worn yesterday, but she knew that couldn't conceal the dark circles under her eyes. "I'll be fine," she said brusquely. "I wanted to let you know though that I won't be staying at Officer Cash's any longer."

Gordon's brow furrowed. "Where are you going to go?"

Now came the worst part. Lying to Commissioner Gordon. "I'm going to see my mother in Ohio. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

Gordon nodded solemnly. "I understand. Take as much time as you need." He reached a hand up to rub the back of his head. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for this, Penelope."

Penelope pulled at her fingers. Despite how much she bristled at being pitied, it was clear how genuine Gordon was. That made the deception that much harder, but it needed to be done. "It's alright," she said. "I'll still be available by phone if you need to reach me." Edward wouldn't like that, but she didn't want to be left completely out of the loop at whatever happened at GCPD.

"As soon as we catch the son of a bitch, you'll be the first to know. I promise." Gordon nodded at Aaron. "What can I do for you, Officer Cash?"

"If it's alright Commish, I can take Doc to the airport," Aaron said. "I'll stay later tonight to make up for it."

Gordon held a hand. "That won't be at all necessary. Go right ahead." Gordon's face fell slightly when he turned back to Penelope. "Take care of yourself. We'll be here when you get back."

Penelope clenched her fists. She would not break. She would not break. "Thank you, Commissioner. Jim."

Forty-five minutes later, Aaron had pulled up to the passenger unloading zone in front of Terminal B at Gotham International Airport. He took a breath and shook his head. "I still don't like this, Doc."

Penelope grabbed a sweatshirt from the backseat before she opened the door. It belonged to Aaron, so it would be far too big for her, but it would do for its purpose. "I know, Aaron," she said. "But I trust Edward. If he thinks that this is the best way, I believe him."

Aaron snorted. "Okay, Doc, but the second, and I mean the second he does something, call me. I'll get you and straighten his ass out."

"That won't be at all necessary," Penelope said, fighting not to roll her eyes. Rationally, she knew that Aaron and Edward's hostility towards each other was too deeply rooted to disappear overnight, but she was tired of being in the middle of it. Then she sighed. "But thank you, Aaron. For everything."

Aaron got out of the driver's seat to open the trunk of his car. Penelope got out of the passenger side to follow him, carrying the sweatshirt over her shoulder along with her purse and holding her briefcase. By the time she made it to the back of the car, he had her suitcase out. She grabbed the handle of it and looked up at Aaron's face. He put his right hand on her shoulder. "See you on the other side, Doc."

She nodded. "I'll see you soon." Then she turned on her heel and walked into the airport terminal. As soon as she was inside, she walked over to a bench and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. It was still only 10:30 AM. She'd been awake so long she'd lost track of time. She quickly texted Edward. AARON JUST DROPPED ME OFF AT THE AIRPORT.

His response was almost immediate. Had he been sitting by his phone waiting for her? GOOD. GO TO A WOMEN'S RESTROOM AND CHANGE AS WE DISCUSSED. WAIT TEN MINUTES, THEN PUT ON THE SWEATSHIRT, HOOD UP, AND SUNGLASSES. GO BACK OUT TO THE TERMINAL ENTRANCE AND WAIT. STAY WHERE PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU, BUT DON'T DRAW ATTENTION TO YOURSELF AND DON'T TALK TO ANYONE. I'LL BE THERE IN THIRTY MINUTES.

Penelope put her phone back in her purse and headed towards the nearest restroom. Now came the most nerve-wracking part. Waiting for Edward.

Schrader had let Montoya remain in their car and check in with Gordon while he popped into a corner market halfway between GCPD and Young's apartment for coffee. While he paid for the coffee, he recalled how withdrawn Young had been, how visibly broken down she was. Away from Montoya's watchful eye, he let out the smirk he'd held in that morning. It hadn't taken much at all to reduce the arrogant, self-important little bitch to the small, weak creature she really was. Even if Ward was right and Bane stayed in whatever hole he'd been thrown into, at least she'd learned her lesson about meddling where she wasn't wanted.

When he came back to the car, Montoya was sitting in the driver's seat with a pensive look on her face. "Did you talk to the Commissioner?" Schrader asked, handing her a cup after he'd sat down.

Montoya nodded, then took a sip. "Yeah. Pene-Dr. Young stopped by his office. She'll be leaving town for a while."

Schrader took a sip. "That's probably for the best," he said as evenly as he could. "It's a dangerous situation, Renee. If Dr. Young thinks she'll be safer leaving, that's her decision to make."

Montoya put her coffee in the cup holder and sighed. "I know, Curtis. I just wish it didn't have to come to this. She doesn't deserve this."

That was Montoya's biggest problem. Her loyalty to people who didn't deserve it. Young was someone who, even after everything that had happened to this city, after everything that had happened to her in Arkham, thought it would be a good idea to speak up for the freaks and do whatever it was she did with the likes of Edward Nigma. At best, she was painfully misguided and naive. At worst, she was as potentially dangerous as any of the crooks locked up in Blackgate and Arkham. What exactly did someone like that deserve? "She'll be fine," he said. Then with a practiced gentleness, he put a hand on Montoya's shoulder. "Don't worry too much about her. Let's focus on catching this son of a bitch."

Montoya gave a firm nod. "You're right." She put the car in drive and the pair were soon on their way back to GCPD. When he was sure Montoya wasn't looking, Schrader smirked. Young was gone, and wouldn't be back any time soon. Good riddance, bitch.

Penelope wasn't someone who let what other people thought get to her, but sitting in the terminal of the airport, wearing a sweatshirt that was far too big for her, and sunglasses indoors, she felt more self-conscious than she had since high school. Thankfully, no one had approached her or even taken a second glance at her after she'd left the restroom. For the second time in as many seconds, she checked her phone. It was 10:59 AM. She looked out the large windows to the passenger loading area. Finally, she saw a familiar green car pull up. After making sure she had everything, she almost dashed outside to meet Edward.

By the time she'd gotten to his car, he'd already stepped out and opened his trunk. He was wearing sunglasses too, as well as casual slacks and of course, a green polo shirt. Penelope paused, almost taken aback by this. She'd known he owned casual clothing, but she'd never seen him in short sleeves before. He turned to greet her, and even through the dark shades, she could see his smirk as he regarded her. "Good," he said. "You followed my directions to a T!" He took her suitcase and briefcase from her and put them in the trunk. He then gestured to his front passenger door. "Shall we?" The pair of them walked up to the door, Edward slightly ahead so he could open it for her. "After you." Penelope shook her head but entered the car. In the time it took for her to place her purse down at her feet and buckle her seatbelt, Edward had shut her door, walked around the front of the car and entered through the driver's side. "I hope you don't mind a more scenic route," he said, putting the car into drive. "I think it's better to err on the side of caution." He pulled out of the passenger loading zone, past the parked cars and security and down the road that led back to the freeway. As soon as they were clear of the airport, Penelope lowered the hood of the sweatshirt and took off her shades. The sudden light aggravated her exhaustion induced headache, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Edward looking at her from out of the corner of his. "Didn't get any sleep I see. Ah well. There'll be time for that when we get back to my apartment."

For the first time since he'd pulled up, Penelope spoke to him. "You really don't have to do this, you know."

"Of course I don't," Edward answered. "Bit late to back out now though, isn't it?"

Penelope leaned back in her seat. She wanted to sleep more than anything. "I realize that. I just thought it needed to be said." Edward just huffed a bit in response. Penelope looked towards him. "What are you going to tell Ellen?"

"Nothing, for now. That's where it comes in handy that she doesn't live with me. I don't have to tell her anything that happens in my personal life until or unless it directly impacts her. If you're still with me the next time she comes over, I can fob her off with some story about fumigation. Let me worry about my daughter, Penelope. You've clearly got enough on your mind."

Penelope shut her eyes. "That's one way of putting it." The two of them said nothing for the rest of the drive.

Penelope was almost asleep when she felt the car come to a complete stop and heard Edward's voice ring out. "Well. Here we are." She slowly, reluctantly opened her eyes and realized that they were indeed in the parking lot of Edward's apartment building. He was out of the car, opening the trunk and removing her bags. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door, grabbing her purse and almost staggering out. Edward was at her side almost immediately, keeping hold of her suitcase and briefcase. "We'll take the elevator up," he said. "It's actually working for once and I'm not about to make you walk up two flights of stairs."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "I'm not an invalid, Edward."

"You look like a zombie," he retorted. "And at any rate, I don't want to walk up two flights of stairs carrying suitcases. Is that better?"

"Much," she drawled. She followed him into the building, to the elevator and down the hall that led to his apartment. Edward kept a few steps ahead of her and had put her briefcase down so he could unlock his apartment door. He opened it, then stepped to the side to allow her to enter first. She stepped into Edward's home, now her home for the foreseeable future. It looked much the same as it had the last time she'd been here for Ellen's birthday, although she noticed it looked like he had straightened it up. The papers and news clippings that he usually had strewn about were gone and there were three places set at his dining room table. He usually had two, who was the third for? Ellen, probably. Her gaze went back to the couch. It wasn't the largest, but it would do for her. "Where do you want me to put my things?"

"Go ahead and take your suitcase to my bedroom and make yourself comfortable," Edward said, depositing it next to her. He took her briefcase over to his dining room table and put it on top of the table. "I'm just going to do a quick check of your laptop to make sure it hasn't been hacked."

"I have confidential patient files on that Edward, don't look at-" Then the first part of his sentence caught up to her. "Wait. Your bedroom?"

Edward clucked his tongue. "Really, Penelope. Thinking I'd peep at your files and make you sleep on my couch? Do you really think so little of me?"

Penelope brought a hand to her face, willing the flush to go away. Surely, he'd thought about the implications of this, hadn't he? "Where are you sleeping?"

Edward turned to look at her, cocking his head and looking like she'd asked the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "On the couch, of course."

Penelope shook her head. "Edward, no. I can't make you sleep on your couch."

"Riddle me this: when is a couch not a couch?"

Penelope groaned. "Edward, not now."

"Answer: when it's a pull out bed!" He smirked at her. "Where did you think Nina and Deirdre slept when they stayed here? In my bathtub?"

"You wouldn't let them sleep in your bed?"

He shuddered. "With what those two get up to? I think not!"

Penelope shook her head again to get the mental image out of her brain and to not think about the fact that she apparently rated more consideration from Edward than his two oldest friends did. "I'll be right back." She wheeled her suitcase down the hallway to Edward's bedroom. She stopped for a moment before the closed door. As much as she'd come to his home in the past five months, she'd never ventured this far. This felt like she was violating his privacy. This felt wrong. Then again, Edward himself had invited her in. If he was willing to share her bedroom with her, he must trust her. With that thought, she opened the door.

Edward's room was much like the rest of his home. Clean and organized, with clippings of his exploits hung up on the walls, along with a few more personal photos. She passed his closet as she walked in and noticed that the clothing inside was perfectly sorted by color. Green blazers hung above black dress pants, white shirts, then green shirts, then black, each outfit with a corresponding bowler hat hung above it, with the few casual clothes he owned hung at the edges. She saw his dresser to her right and supposed that the clothing in there must be similarly organized. What else could one expect with Edward? As she approached the surprisingly large bed, she noticed that it was perfectly made. Did he always make it, or had he done this for her? Penelope saw that the right side of the bed was slightly lower than the left. That must be the side he slept in. Penelope propped her suitcase at the foot of the bed and made her way to the left side. She pulled off her sweatshirt and lay it on the bed, then her attention was drawn to the nightstand along the right side. There were two framed photographs on it, both of them familiar to her. The first was a photo Selina had taken at Edward's birthday party back in June. Edward sat in the middle, herself and Ellen on either side of him, Nina and Deirdre behind him. She let a small smile come to her own face as she thought back on that night. It had been the happiest she'd ever seen Edward. Her smile fell as she turned her attention to the second picture. It was a smaller, black and white picture of Professor Crane. Penelope realized that Edward must have cut it out of the yearbook she had brought him. For a long moment, she stared at the picture, the Professor's cold gaze seeming to look directly through her like she remembered it had back at Gotham University all those years ago. What would he think, she thought, if he could see her now? She sighed and finally looked away. Her eyes felt heavy and she wanted nothing more than sleep. She reached up to undo her bun, letting her dark hair fall loose around her shoulders. She had pulled her shoes off when she remembered that she still needed to send emails out to her patients to explain her absence. Reluctantly, she left the waiting bed and walked back out to the living room.

In her absence, Edward had removed his sunglasses and put on his regular tinted glasses. He was still sitting at his dining room table, typing away on her laptop. "Are you almost done?" Penelope asked.

"Just about," Edward answered, not looking up. "As far as I can tell, you haven't been hacked. You know, with the sensitive material you say you have on here, it wouldn't hurt to have some secure encryption on it. I could set that up for you."

"Maybe some other time," she said. Frankly, she wasn't sure she wanted the headache of figuring out Edward's encryption systems.

Edward typed a few last commands on the keyboard, then grinned in triumph. "There! Done! Child's play, really. You can have it back now." He pushed the chair back a bit and turned to look at her. "I'll be heading off to your apartment to..." Edward trailed off as he regarded her and his eyes widened a bit as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Penelope frowned. "What's wrong?"

Edward blinked. "Your hair," he said at last. "I don't think I've ever seen it-" he flushed a bit and cleared his throat. "Never mind. Anyway, I'll be heading off to your apartment now to see the crime scene for myself." He got out from his chair and walked past her towards his front door. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just leave any dishes in the sink. If you take a book off my shelf, just leave it when you're done. I have a very particular sorting system. If you need anything, call me. I should be back later this afternoon or this evening."

"Alright," Penelope nodded, putting his strange reaction to her hair out of her mind. He'd grabbed his cane from where it was hanging on a hat stand by the door and was about to walk out when she called out to him. "Edward?"

He turned around. "Yes?"

Penelope bit her lip. "Thank you," she said. "For doing all of this."

A soft expression came to his face. "For you, Penelope? Anything." He opened the door and walked out, locking it behind him.

After sending out a handful of apologetic emails, Penelope finally, finally, lay down on the left side of Edward's bed and shut her eyes. For the first time since this began, she felt safe. The last thought she had before sleep overcame her was a question: when and why had she begun to associate Edward with safety?

Edward meanwhile, pondered a very different question while he drove to Penelope's apartment: had she always been so...pretty?

That was a stupid question, he thought almost immediately. The first thing he'd noticed about her at that fundraiser last year was that she was a pretty woman. Not as striking perhaps as some of the other women Edward had known over the years, but he'd been drawn almost instantly to the contrast between her ice blue eyes and her dark, almost black hair. Her subsequent hostility towards him had served as an immediate repellant though, and when she'd become his investigative partner, he'd never allowed himself to think of her in those terms again. It wouldn't end well. His up and down relationship with Selina was proof of that. Seeing her with her hair down though...it was an uncomfortable reminder that for all of her stern, cold demeanor, she was a young woman. Younger than him, younger than Selina, younger than Harley even if he remembered right. Why didn't she wear her hair down more often, it made her look so much younger, so much prettier-

"Focus, Edward," he scolded himself. "The case, remember? I highly doubt she'd appreciate you critiquing her hairstyle while someone's been terrorizing her." A fresh wave of anger came over him. When, not if, but when he found out who was responsible for making her so miserable...well. Just because he was reformed didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. Whoever did this would wish that he simply harassed them to the point of breakdown as he had with Bolton. If someone didn't hold him back, he'd put the son of a bitch in a hospital.

Finally, the familiar brownstone came into sight. Edward did a slow, methodical drive through the parking lot, just to make sure there weren't still GCPD officers about. He was still in his casual clothes so he'd be able to get through the front door of the building, but they wouldn't stop him from being prevented entrance into her apartment. When he saw no police, he pulled into an empty parking spot and got out, cane in hand. He'd almost made it to the entrance when he caught sight of a familiar face and scowled. "What are you doing here!?"

Cash stepped forward, his arms folded across his chest. "Same thing you're doing: trying to find out who's after Doc."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Your sentiments are endearing, Cash, but leave the investigation to those of us with brains. You'll just get in my way." He went to move past Cash when the officer held his right hand up.

"Nigma, I wanna level with you," he said. "I don't like you, and I'm damn sure you don't like me."

Edward slow clapped. "Brilliantly worked out!"

"Knock it off," Cash growled. Then the man sighed. "But Doc's my friend, and she trusts you. I don't want a repeat of what happened with Goodman last year." He awkwardly held his hand out. "Truce?"

Edward looked out the outstretched hand with a narrow gaze. By all rights, he should bat it away and continue into the building. He didn't remember much in detail about his stays in Arkham, but he remembered being on the receiving end of blows from that hand. A genius like him didn't need Cash getting underfoot. Then again...Cash was Penelope's friend. He had no motive to endanger her, and he could be a valuable source of information in the innermost workings of GCPD. If anyone knew who in GCPD was likely to hold a grudge, Cash would. Still, there was another important thing to consider. He hated Cash. Always had, always would. Edward sighed. For you, Penelope, anything. He gingerly took the hand. "Fine. Truce. But I take the lead in there. Understood?"

Cash gave a sharp nod. "Fine." He dropped Edward's hand and stepped to the side. "After you, Mr. PI."

Edward finally walked past him and into the building. It was the first time since December that he'd set foot inside it. As angry as he was about the attack, as irritated as he was by Cash's presence, there was a part of him that was thrilled by finally get to see the inside of her apartment. It was another piece of the puzzle that was Penelope Young, and more than anything else, Edward loved solving puzzles. The door was shut but unlocked, much to his relief. He'd rather not pick her lock if he could avoid it.

When he opened the door, the first thing that caught his attention was the word 'MURDERER' painted in bright red in the middle of her living room. That would have been the first thing to have caught Penelope's eye when she entered, he assumed. That was no doubt the intent. He took a step into the apartment, taking in the surroundings. Message and the mess on the floor aside, it was clean, minimalistic, almost clinical in style. Well, what else could he expect from Penelope? The walls were white, with framed pictures providing splashes of color here and there. Another time, he could appreciate the layout. Now, it was a crime scene and he had to consider it as such. He crouched down on the floor, taking a closer look at the papers that had been haphazardly thrown. They were a mixture of case files from GCPD, her own personal notes from her private sessions with clients, and even things as mundane as a grocery store list. This along with the message confirmed one thing in Edward's mind. Whoever did this did so with the intent to torment her. What's more, the message proved that they knew exactly what to do to maximize that torment. He heard Cash's heavy footsteps and got back up to his feet, taking a closer look at the message. "How many in GCPD are aware of Dr. Young's history at Arkham?"

"You mean that she created the TITAN stuff? Well, I know, obviously. So does Gordon. Most of the senior detectives know too, but that's it. We try to keep it on the down low. A lot of the guys on the force aren't fond of the folks at Arkham."

"You don't say," Edward drawled. "Has anyone in GCPD expressed ill feelings towards her?" He turned his attention to Cash, who seemed to be working over what he said.

"A couple of the younger guys said some stuff a while ago when she was first starting out." He shrugged. "Mostly locker room talk, about how they wouldn't mind her giving them an examination. I put a stop to it real quick."

Edward realized that he was clutching his cane very tightly. "Did they now?" He seethed. He took a quick breath and composed himself. When this was over, he'd have his informant in GCPD do a little recon. Perhaps some slashed tires would remind the neanderthals to treat women with a bit more respect. "Is there anyone, in particular, she has problems with?"

"Well, she's not exactly warm and cuddly, but it's not like she goes out of her way to piss anyone off." Cash chewed his bottom lip. "She and Bullock used to get into it a lot when he was still on the force, but I don't think he'd do this."

Edward reluctantly had to agree with Cash. As difficult as Bullock was, something like this wasn't his style. It was too underhanded, and Bullock was anything but. He'd also never do anything to compromise GCPD. He was too loyal to Gordon for that. Loyalty also ruled out Montoya. He frowned a bit. "What about Schrader? She's told me how much she dislikes him."

Cash raised an eyebrow. "She has? Guess I shouldn't be surprised. They butt heads sometimes, but I don't think he'd do this. He's got fifteen years on the job and a lot of commendations."

A decorated career man he may be, but if Schrader was Strange's creature, if he was in any way a threat to Penelope, Edward would take him down. Schrader warranted a more thorough examination, but he also had to consider that Strange could have recruited any random beat cop and told them about Penelope and her formula. All this time she was exposed, a prime target for anyone at GCPD to strike at a moment's notice. At any time she was at headquarters to do a consultation, someone could have harmed her and he would have been powerless to do anything about it, just like he couldn't save Jonathan-no. He wasn't in a coma this time. Strange would not take Penelope, or Ellen away from him. Edward took a few brisk steps down the hallway to his left, where he assumed her bedroom was.

"Where are you going?" Cash called after him. "Doc and I did the walkthrough this morning, nothing in her room was touched!"

"Which is a clue in and of itself," Edward called back. "Whoever did this assumed that once she saw the state of her living room, she'd flee. They didn't bother vandalizing her room. Which, if you only consider the message, is a bit odd."

There was another pause while Cash worked this out, which made Edward want to slap his forehead in frustration. Good Lord, what must it be like in that pea brain of his? "I get it," he said. "Whoever wrote that did it to scare Doc, but also to throw the cops off. Make them think it was somebody from Arkham looking for revenge."

"My God, it can think!" Edward crowed out in mock triumph.

"Just don't go looking in her drawers, Nigma!"

Edward flushed, then sputtered a bit in outrage. "Her drawers- just what kind of pervert do you think I am, Cash!?"

"I wouldn't put it against you."

Edward growled, then kept walking. He entered her room at last, as sparsely decorated as the rest of the apartment. Her closet door was slightly open and he could see professional looking blouses, shirts, and slacks in black, white, blues, dark purples, and an occasional red. Really, a bit of green wouldn't go amiss. At her bedside, he saw a nightstand, with books stacked on the bottom shelf. The one on top he recognized as her journal, the rest being various well worn looking books on psychology, Greek mythology, and Bulgakov. He smiled a bit. Clearly, she loved those books. On top of the nightstand, there was a sole framed picture. It was of Penelope, looking serious as usual, in graduation cap and gown. Beside her was an equally serious looking, balding, heavyset man with his arm around her shoulders. His age relative to hers and the fact that he shared the same ice blue eyes indicated to him that this must be her father. A caption at the bottom of the frame, written in cursive, confirmed his deduction. David and Penelope, Gotham University, 1996. Who had written that? Her mother, most likely. It occurred to him suddenly that he'd almost never heard her speak of her parents, or of who she had been before she'd come to Arkham Asylum. Well, he thought as he gathered the books in his arms. There was time to remedy that.

"What are you doing with those books?" Cash asked as he walked back into the living room.

"I'm taking them with me," Edward answered. "I thought she might appreciate a few creature comforts."

Cash blinked, rather stupidly, Edward thought, then his gaze grew thoughtful. "Can I ask you something? And don't be a smartass."

Edward let out a dramatic sigh. "If you must."

"Why are you doing all this for her? Keeping her in your place, bringing her stuff?"

Edward opened his mouth, only to find that he had no ready answer. Why was he doing this? "Well," he said. "She's been of help to me in the past. I'm returning the favor. And past experience has shown that GCPD can't exactly be relied upon to keep her safe. I legitimately am the best option."

Cash's face colored a bit, but he kept his cool. "Is that the only reason?"

"What other reason would there be?"

Cash swallowed a bit. "You and Doc. Are you two...?"

Edward was becoming beyond irritated with this line of questioning. "Are we what?"

Cash looked at him like he was the idiot, which was rich. "Man, do I have to spell it out for you? Are you and Doc together?"

Edward blinked once. "In what sense?"

Cash looked like he wanted to laugh. "Some genius you are. Are you two dating?"

Edward blinked again, then felt the blood rush to his face. He almost dropped the books he was carrying. "Are we dating? Dating? Romantically?" The thought was patently absurd. It was one thing to think a person was attractive. It was one thing to have an anonymous one-night dalliance at Pandora's Box when the need for human contact became too great to ignore. But an actual relationship? With everything that had happened to him in the past? With everything going on now? Unthinkable. He finally let out a laugh. "When you're a big boy Cash," he mocked. "You'll find out that it's very possible for men and women to be friends without anything romantic going on!"

"I know that, Nigma. I also know the difference between guys who are just friends with a woman, and guys who want more." Cash folded his arms and gave Edward a pointed look. "And you are a Hell of a lot closer to the latter than the former."

"Your observational skills are clearly lacking," Edward stated, walking towards the front door. "Penelope and I are not dating now or ever. Case closed."

"Maybe. That doesn't mean you're not in love with her."

Edward froze in his tracks. Love? He wasn't. He couldn't be. No, not after Jonathan. He couldn't go through that again. He wouldn't. He didn't respond to Cash and kept walking.

"Senor? We'll be landing at Gotham International Airport in just under an hour. Would you like anything?"

Bane gave the stewardess a polite no. "Gracias, but no." The stewardess smiled a pretty little smile, then walked towards the front of the private plane. One of the benefits of being in his line of work. He may make enemies, but he also made plenty of friends, friends who would trade in favors as much as money, such as getting him a private plane to Gotham City after he had arranged early parole. His face darkened a bit as he thought about Gotham, and about the reason he was returning after over two years away. Dr. Young. The TITAN. Who had she angered enough to have them send a message to him? It must have been someone important, for them to be able to reach him. The message had said that she was making the TITAN again. Whether that was true or not, he would find out soon enough. If it was true, then the TITAN could not be allowed to remain on the streets of Gotham City. And if it wasn't, he and Dr. Young still had unfinished business.

He closed his eyes and remembered. He remembered being hung up in the bowels of the Arkham Medical Center, like an animal in a slaughterhouse. He remembered the pain of having the venom drained from his blood, how his howls of agony didn't even register on that cold face of hers.

Oh yes, the bruja had much to answer for.