D: I apologize for the long wait. School is picking up and all, and I was waiting for NxS to beta-read, but seems like she's busy too so this chapter isn't beta'd. Hope none of you mind.


Seven o'clock arrived, but Gordon and I came to the penthouse ten minutes after. We rode the elevator in silence, except for Prince's playful yips as he played with Buddy's ear. Buddy sat patiently, looking up at me for approval, and I beamed at him for his good behavior. Scout paced near the elevator door like she was thinking of how to behave.

I worried that they would behave like puppies and bring me shame. However, when the doors slid open, my three rottweilers stood up and acted all high-and-mighty, silent and obedient.

I let them go off on their own, having explained to Gordon that I trusted them to not get into trouble.

I had a panic moment when I saw how many people were there. The best I could do was to follow Gordon after the first ten minutes. The shyness in me returned after a twelve-year vacation. I just wanted to die right there and then when I realized I had lost Gordon among all the guests.

I stood close to the wall, wishing it wasn't so bright in the penthouse. All I wanted was to shadow away from here, to wherever my Heath happened to be at this moment.

"You look nervous. Do you need a spirit to calm you down?"

The sudden voice made me jump, and it took me a moment to look and recognize the speaker.

"Not much of a party-person, are you?" He chuckled softly and then held out his hand. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

"Detective McKinley," I replied, shaking his hand.

"You must be Gordon's new detective."

I smiled and asked, "Would you consider me new if I've been working with him for over two months, Mr. Wayne?"

"Please, Bruce is just fine," he replied, "And I suppose you wouldn't be considered 'new', but you are newer." He smiled, and for a moment, I thought my heart stopped.

Get a grip on yourself, girl. He has a girlfriend, and you're already claimed. Not to mention being claimed by a mass-murderer. That's what I told myself.

"It's not every day you meet a shy detective." Now what in the world made me say that?

"You don't seem that shy," Bruce remarked. "I'd consider you a quiet person, observant. A shy person wouldn't talk."

"That's true," I said.

"And being quiet helps in your kind of field. Being observant is only the beginning. I suppose you retrieve a great deal of information being simply observing people." Bruce flashed me a charming smile, and I felt my mouth twitch. "Besides, quiet people tend to open up once they get to know someone."

"You're supposed to be a business man, not a psychiatrist," I told him. "It's like there are two sides to you."

"Doesn't everyone?" he returned, casually. Bruce turned his head, looking like he was searching for someone, and asked, "Would you like a drink?"

"I'm on duty, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce is fine."

"As is water." Bruce's grin widened, and he looked at me to give me a nod before he moved away, telling me to wait for his return.

I remained where I was, running a hand through my hair. What was I doing? For some reason, I was finding it difficult to breathe. I am the Joker's, I told myself, repeating it over and over in my head.

I wanted to move so that I didn't have to see him again, but Bruce was already returning with a glass of water.

"I heard you helped with the capture of Mr. Freeze," he said, casually, "Must have been a rather chilling experience."

I smiled at the joke. "I was there, but I didn't exactly help with the capture."

"That's what the Commissioner said during the press conference."

"He just wanted to spare me of the shame of popping my shoulder outta its socket."

Bruce looked at me curiously. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"I slipped on the stairs."

He winced, sympathetically. "Things could have been worse," he commented.

"Be glad that you're not on the force," I told him, taking a sip from the water. "Bruises and such are only the beginning."

"Any luck with any of the other criminals?" I gave him a guarded look, and he quickly sipped his wine. "Unless it's secret, that's fine," he said, quickly. I continued to stare at him to see how he would react. Bruce cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the situation.

"It's not wrong for you to be curious," I told him to calm him. "It's not like you're the only one in Gotham who wonders how well the police force is doing."

Bruce's shoulders slumped slightly, releasing a moment's tension. Then, he drained more than half his glass before he looked at me. "C'mon, I want you to meet someone."

I gave him a wary look.

"She's a good friend of mine. Don't worry, she won't bite." He took my arm gently and led me through the crowds of people. I searched the crowd as we went, trying to see if I recognized anybody, but I didn't, unfortunately.

"Jane, this is Selina Kyle; Selina, this is Detective McKinley." I snapped my attention back at the name, and I met Selina's gentle gaze. Of course, she had to be faking the gentleness; she had gone stiff.

"Pleasant to meet you," I greeted, holding out my hand. She took it with a fake smile that convinced Bruce, but not me.

"You must be the new detective," Selina said, trying to start a casual conversation.

"Newer than the others," I replied. She arched an eyebrow. "Mr. Wayne and I had a chat about the use of the word 'new'."

"She's been a detective for more than two months," Bruce explained, giving me a look that plainly told me that he wished I just used his first name. Selina turned her head, and a real smile took the fake one. I found this interesting, but I pretended I was distracted, looking around.

"Congratulations on the arrest of the iceman," Selina said, and I beamed. She was giving me a warning look, and I knew that she knew that I had guesses as to who Bruce Wayne was.

Just then, I felt something at my feet, and I heard a low growl. I looked down and saw Prince at my feet, growling toward Selina. "Shush, Prince," I murmured, and he shut up, still glaring at the Catwoman.

"Yours?" Bruce asked, curiously.

"Sorry, Gordon wanted to bring them."

"There are more?"

"Just two others. Training," I explained, "For being around a crowd of people. Besides, they might sniff out drugs, and I'm not saying you would have any, Mr. Wayne."

"It's good to be on your guard anyway," Bruce said, a sparkle in his eye. "You never know."

I was tempted to ask how old he thought he was. The word playboy crossed my mind.

"Have you met Jason Hawkins yet?" Bruce asked me.

I wanted to lie, but I shook my head.

"I'll introduce you."

"Well, well, Bruce, ol' man." I recognized the voice, and I couldn't resist rolling my eyes before turning along with Bruce and Selina.

"Edward," Bruce greeted, shaking Nigma's hand.

I looked at the Riddler closely. There was something different about him, but I couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"…Detective McKinley," Bruce said, probably finishing with introductions.

"Yes, we've met," Nigma replied, his eyes boring into mine. "How have you been since we last met, Detective?"

I searched for any menace in his voice and expression, but I found nothing.

"Busy, Mr. Nigma. And how 'bout you?" I returned. "Your invention, the Box seems to have a grand success. There's hardly a home without one."

"Even now, most stores are sold out," Selina added. I avoided looking at her because I would have started laughing at her attempt to join the conversation.

"Critics say that the Box has turned the people of Gotham into zombies," Bruce stated, calmly. I looked at him, disbelieving. He was openly accusing Nigma for criminal activity.

"That's what they said when TV was invented," Nigma responded coolly, glancing slyly at me like he was daring me to say more.

I flipped my head, tossing my hair out of my face. "Mr. Nigma, have you thought of my last question?"

A look of curiosity appeared on his face. "I have an answer for it," he said, accepting my subtle hint.

I smiled. "Will you excuse us, Mr. Wayne, Ms. Kyle?"

"Of course," Bruce replied. Selina's eyes revealed her suspicion.

I led the way back to my little corner where Bruce had found me. There, I turned on the Riddler. "Enjoying the party, Eddie?" I asked, harshly.

"Quite." His calm façade disappeared. "Why are you here?" he demanded.

"To keep criminals such as you under control," I snapped, quietly. I wanted this argument to be kept between him and me. "I see that you have to keep your reputation as Edward Nigma up as well. Who's double-sided now?"

"You're playing it more dangerous than the rest of us," he argued.

"Oh, so serious," I teased. "You need to lighten up." Nigma grabbed my jacket, but I slapped his hands away. "We're in public, Rid," I told him. "Don't want anyone getting suspicious now, do we? Though I doubt you'd count the cat being suspicious. Who else might be here who happens to play a double life?" Then, a thought struck me. "If you've been caught, how come the police aren't after you? They must know you're the Riddler."

Nigma's mouth turned into a grin. He tapped his temples. "It's a trick of mine," he responded. "Just like every other-." He cut himself off as a black man approached us, holding a wine glass.

"Good evenin'," he greeted with his words slurred a tad. "Might, ah, I 'ave a word 'ith 'Etect-." He hiccupped and then continued, "Me sorry. A word 'ith the 'etective 'ere."

Nigma gave me a strange look, and I was very aware of how confused I was.

"Me name's Jack Paige. 'Ou know me wife 'lexis."

I was suddenly aware that the man was speaking in a code. The names were part of the code. Jack was the Joker, and Alexis Paige was Teresa's other alias.

I let recognition appear on my face. "Jack," I greeted, cheerfully, "I didn't recognize you at first."

"Quite all 'ight."

"How is Alexis these days?" I put an arm over his shoulder, leading him away from the Riddler.

"Fine, 'ust fine," he responded, giving me subtle hints as to where to lead him. We left the main room and headed down a hallway where the black man dropped his voice to reveal a more familiar one. "I was hoping I'd find you in there rather than with the boss."

I slapped him hard across the face. "Why are you here, Dean, and how did you know about the names? And why are you black?"

Dean grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the hallway, running toward a door. He turned the knob and opened it. I followed him in, and we stopped dead.

A couple was kissing and hugging on a couch.

I instantly took Dean's arm and yanked him out of the room, closing the door behind him. He didn't need to see any farther, nor did I. I knew what that kind of action led to; I didn't need to see it when I've already experienced it. And I preferred if Dean didn't see until...well, until it was time for that last innocence in him to vanish.

Dean's expression had turned pale, and I forced him to drink from the wine glass he held. As we ran, he had spilled a good amount of it, but a few drops should distract him, as well as me repeating my questions.

"Teresa wants to talk to you," Dean replied, shakily. "She had me get painted a convincing black so that I could get to you and not be recognized."

"By whom?" I demanded.

"The criminal masterminds. You were talking to one of them, Detective."

"I know that, Dean! You don't know how much I know already." I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply to calm myself. "Where's Teresa?" I asked.

"In one of these rooms." Dean moved onto the next door, this time placing his ear against the wood to check. The door opened as Dean neared it, and I felt an invisible hand grab my jacket.

Dean and I were yanked into the room, and the door closed. I put a hand up and touched a bunch of coats.

"You wanted to meet in a freaking coat closet?" I demanded in a sharp tone.

"Quiet, Shadow," Crane's voice answered.

"You're here too, Jon?"

"It would appear so. Sit down, we're down here." I sat down and felt something under me. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't sit on me, Shadow," Crane added, sounding amused.

"Sorry." I moved over until I was on the floor. Something clicked open, and a small flame appeared from a lighter that Teresa held. "Careful of the coats," I murmured.

"Afraid of fire, Shadow?" Teresa teased.

"No, I'm afraid that you'll set the coats on fire while we're in here."

"It will warm you up." I glared at her as I shivered, but it couldn't have been the cold because it was warm in the closet. "Dean," Teresa said, turning to him, "You're away that someone is out to kill Shadow, correct?"

My mouth dropped open as Dean turned his face toward me, as if asking for permission. "Do you know who that man is?" I asked, eagerly.

"We have some leads," Crane answered, "But does Dean know?"

"She's told me the basics," Dean replied.

"Such as?"

"Someone is out to kill her, and the lead is that it's someone who knows the Joker and values him highly."

"What?" I looked at him in shock; I hadn't thought of the last part.

"It's obvious," Teresa stated, "Someone close to the Joker, claiming he's the Joker's guardian. No one loves the Joker enough to want to keep him alive."

"And we're not including you, Teresa, or I," Crane said quickly before I protested.

"What 'bout me?" Dean asked.

"You are a possible suspect."

"Why do you say 'possible'?"

"The Joker hates you, and you don't hate Shadow." Crane glanced at me, and I avoided his gaze. "Dean, would you try to kill Shadow?"

"Never," Dean insisted, sounding angry from the fact that anyone would believe he would try such a thing. "I'm her friend. I'd never try to kill her." He gave me a cautious look, and I glared at him, knowing who he was thinking about.

"Don't say a word," I growled at him.

"Say what?" Teresa asked, interested, and I threw a glare in her direction.

"What are your leads?" I asked Crane.

He glanced at Teresa who gave him a begging look. "Bother Shadow on your own time," he told her and turned to me. "This handy instrument," he began, holding up the instrument that stopped me from shadowing, "Is from NigmaTech."

"The Riddler…" I knew he had a grudge against me for stopping him in joining together all the criminals. "But there's one problem," I said. "The Riddler doesn't know the Joker-."

"I didn't say it was the Riddler," Crane cut me off. "Don't jump to conclusions. That's not your job, as a detective." I punched him in the arm. "As I was saying, this instrument is from NigmaTech, and it's an interesting thought to think that the Riddler would create something that would stop you from shadowing, like he already knows it works. What exactly does it do, Shadow?"

"Electricity, it sends electricity through my mind, disabling me from concentrating."

"Wait, disabling or making it harder." I rolled my eyes. "I'm playing your job, Shadow. A detective asks a million questions."

"Just like psychiatrists," I shot back. Crane smiled. "I suppose it might just make it harder, but you have to put in the headaches I get from it."

"You always seem to get headaches," Teresa remarked.

"It's because she had an overdose," Dean replied.

"No," I snapped, irritated, "I've had headaches since the Joker first found me!" I rubbed my temples as another headache emerged. "It's like I can't do anything without getting one."

"Could it be connected to your ability?" Crane asked. "Teresa was the same, but she got over it once she had complete control."

"Maybe that's it. I don't know my limits." I winced. "Look, I should get back before anyone misses me, but I have to ask. What's the real reason behind Dean being painted black?"

"Disguise," Dean answered, "They needed me to get into the party while they were invisible."

"What about the names?"

"I thought you figured those out."

"What about Jack?"

"That's the name the boss used when he hired me, isn't it?" I had a powerful urge to smack him. "It was also another hint as to warn you that the boss is in the lobby downstairs, or at least he was when I was last down there."

My eyes widened, and I reached up, touching the handle and turning it. I tumbled out of the closet, hitting my head on the doorframe as I went. Getting to my feet, I rubbed my head.

"Just a warning, Shadow," Crane said as he, Dean, and Teresa climbed out of the closet after me. "Your Puppy's gone double with magic."

I gave him a confused look. "What?" He only grinned and grabbed Teresa's hand, disappearing from view.

Then, I heard gunshots and screams of surprise, and I realized that I needed to be in the main room so I ran back to the party with Dean at my heels.


D: So intense!

Joker: YAY! I'm, ah, in the next chapter!

D: Don't get too happy.

Shadow: You're not going to kill him, are you?

D: That's for me to know and you to find out.

Joker: Oh no...

D: Don't forget to review, dear readers!