Hey, guys. Happy Late Christmas to everybody. So sorry I couldn't post sooner. Not only did I have a long vacation spending time with my family and getting a new laptop, I also had a funeral to go to. Between those and getting distracted by shiny new games and books, it's kinda been hard to concentrate. But no worries! I'm back, I have a relaxed school schedule, and have quite a few things that I'm cooking up in the next few chapters, including some familiar faces for Becky to encounter.

So, enjoy!

Everything was dark as Friitawa made her way out of her little underground hovel that she called home.

Perfect, she thought, surveying the darkness before her. While to many, the complete darkness would be off-putting; the darkness felt comforting to her, much like an embrace of an old friend. She started running down the streets, her movements precise and agile, with not a sign of hesitation. Her entire life, save for a few moments, were spent in the dark. As an albino woman, her sensitivity to light often kept her from ever crawling out into the sunlight. But now, she was in her element.

She smiled, inhaling the cold, wintry air. She relished the feeling of the icy wind, her coat fluttering behind her like a cape, her fingers nimbly grabbing onto a ladder rung and climbing it up onto the rooftops.

With a small hop, she crossed over to the other building, then another. She had a job to do, after all, and it wouldn't pay to doddle. She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. On it was written the address and name of her target, a man named Armand Lorenz, who just so happened to be the mayor of Gotham this year, whose house just so happened to be in the Park Row district.

It's about time that those robots did something useful, she thought to herself. The automatons had accidentally hit an underground transformer while digging, causing many of the robots to short-circuit, and a few unlucky ones to explode. She knew it would probably set back Ra's main plan a few days, but she didn't care. After all, that was Ra's problem, not hers, and the opportunity to take what she wanted was way too convenient to pass up.

She stopped, finally locating the prey below her. With a quick kick, she shattered the glass, startling the man as she jumped down, landing perfectly in the middle of the table where the man was eating.

The man, who appeared to be in his mid to late 50's, stumbled backwards, nearly loosing his balance on the chair he had previously sat. "W-What is the meaning of this? Who are you? Who sent you? If it was Black Mask…"

She laughed at the name of her former lover/employer. "Black Mask? Are you serious? Why would I want to continue working for some has-been like him, when I can get so much more out of someone else?"

"T-Then, w-who are you working for?" the mayor asked, his flabby cheeks starting to go pale with fright.

She grinned, enjoying the frightened expression on the mayor's face. Oh, how she loved her job. "Now, why on Earth would I tell you something like that? Do you actually think I'm as dumb as the ordinary goons that kidnap you? You have no idea who you're dealing with."

With a lunge, she was right in his face, her lips dangerously close. "Besides, you won't have much time left once I'm done with you," she said, breathing out her nerve toxin breath on her victim, paralyzing him in his seat, unable to move or to shout as she raised her scythe into the air.

Later that night, she returned to the underground city, her victim's blood splashed across her face and shirt, a savage and contented grin on her face as she strode through the main street of the town.

Her taste for blood sated, she looked around for the secret entrance to the Lazarus Pit. Taking out her scythe, she inserted it into the lock near an unassuming brick wall, causing the wall to slide open, revealing an entrance below the city streets. Soon, she was at the gates of the outer layer of the Lazarus Pit. With a quick tug, the doors swung creakily open, revealing the inner layer of the building, and the gates into the innermost sanctum, where the Lazarus Pit.

But before she could take another step, several of Ra's guards surrounded her, their scimitars pointed towards her heart. "Halt!" their leader hissed, her eyes narrowed at the albino. "State your business or be prepared to be run through!"

Friitawa chuckled, "Now, what would be the fun in that? It's not like I'm much of a real challenge for you, especially since you have me surrounded." Her eyes glinted in the shadows, her feet sliding into a lunging position. "But if you insist, then I'll indulge you."

The assassins lunged forward, their swords nearing her heart.

"That's enough!"

In mid-lunge, the assassins backed off, their swords raised upright and held in front of their faces, two of them parting as a lone woman strides towards Friitawa, her skin-tight outfit leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

Friitawa's smirk turned into a scowl. "Well, if it isn't Ra's little puppet. Come to check to on daddy dearest, Talia?" she said sarcastically, her eyes barely disguising the hatred behind them. If it were up to her, she would have gladly ripped the brown-haired bimbo apart piece by piece and with as much savagery as possible. But, to her frustration, she couldn't, not if she wanted a chance to save her alliance with Ra's, or her life.

Talia narrowed her eyes. She had no idea why her father kept the albino on such a long leash, much less allowed her to live. She posed as much of a danger as a giant black widow spider, and with the same traitorous tendencies to boot. A person like that was a high risk to keep around, much less allow inside their fortress and into their plans. But, unfortunately, she couldn't defy her father's wishes, not if she wanted to live, anyway.

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her guards, the assassins running off into the shadows. "There'd better be a good reason why you are here," she growled, arms crossed and a scowl creasing her face.

"Actually, I just so happen to have two," she said, her sly smile returning to her face.

"Oh, really? And those would be?" Talia replied, one eyebrow quirked in interest.

"The first part of the plan is complete. But you probably figured that out already," she said, gesturing to her blood-soaked jacket and shirt.

"Good," Talia replied, turning away from her. "And the second?"

Friitawa chuckled. "I need more of that serum. We wouldn't want daddy dearest to lose his most powerful ally, would we?"

Talia gritted her teeth, her hands clasped into fists. "Fine, I will get some," she spat, her voice lowered to a whisper. "But this is your last warning, Friitawa. Next time I catch you in the inner sanctum again, I will kill you."

Friitawa laughed. "I'd like to see you try. But I'll heed your words, for now." And with a twirl of her overcoat, she was gone.

Talia shook her head, glaring at where the woman had just been before spinning on her heels and walking away.

Jonathan sleepily awoke from his uncomfortable slumber on the laboratory table, his neck popping loudly as he sat up. He stretched, wincing as he felt the aftereffects of the escape. I'm getting too old for this, he thought grumpily, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.

He looked around, his eyes trying to blink away the foggy sleepiness. Only one thing was on his mind right at that moment.

Coffee.

With a noise that resembled the moan of a zombie, he shambled into Hush's kitchen, ignoring the frozen faces staring at him from the fridge as he opened the door, desperately searching for the water for his coffee.

"Where'd he put it?" he mumbled absentmindedly to himself, shuffling through the various containers of pickled remains, digging through the massive refrigerator in hopes of the pure, colorless liquid gold at the end of the freezing, white rainbow.

All the while Becky and Hush stared in shock and a combination of horror and bemusement. "He…does know that that refrigerator is for frozen cadavers, right?" Becky asked, her eyes widening as a pickled ear flew her way, narrowly avoiding it as Hush caught the container before it could smash into her face.

"Um…Professor?" Hush asked hesitantly, approaching the man cautiously. One false move, and he would possibly be gassed. He didn't know if the man had any fear gas on him, but he wouldn't put it past him.

"What?" he hissed, turning his head to look at Hush with an expression that would likely freeze the rest of Mars.

Hush gulped. "U-um…. you-you're coffee's is already brewing."

"…Oh," Crane replied, rubbing his eyes, finally seeming to come out of his daze. He adjusted his crooked glasses, finally noticing which fridge he was actually digging in. "My apologies, Thomas, I wasn't thinking straight."

Hush chuckled. "No problem, Professor. Just try not to hit your girlfriend while you search," he replied, putting the jar back into its proper place in the fridge.

Crane sighed, annoyed. He wished people would quit asking him if he was in a relationship. "Don't you have better things to do than to wonder about our relationship?"

"Yeah, Hush. I mean, I wouldn't take you for the type that worried about relationships of any kind, much less ours," Becky piped up, arms crossed as she stepped closer to Crane, her shoulders hunched defensively against his statement.

Hush just smirked, shaking his head as he leaned against the kitchen table. "Now, you of all people should know better, Becky. Part of my job as a strategist is to study patterns in the people I meet, whether it is their behavior or their lifestyle. And even a blind man could tell that something is obviously going on with you two," he replied, gesturing to the two of them. "So, forgive me for being a little bit curious about the newest member of the Rogues suddenly being trusted by the most mistrusting person this side of Gotham, especially when it comes to revealing personal scars."

Crane blushed and looked away. "Is it really that obvious?"

"About as obvious as Batman in broad daylight."

Crane was about to make a snappy reply when a high-pitched beeping interrupted his next thought. "Ah, finally!" he exclaimed with relief, rushing over to the coffee maker like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Anyway," Becky said, changing the subject. "Have you heard anything about Jervis?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. He must have gotten out of Gotham the night Crane was captured. Speaking of which, I heard that Friitawa broke out of Blackgate two nights back."

"What?!" Both Becky and Crane cried, with Crane almost spitting out the coffee he was drinking.

"But how? She would be dead by the time she broke out," Crane said, banging his mug onto the table, his hot beverage dangerously close to sloshing out.

"What do you mean, dead? She looked perfectly fine to me," Becky asked, confused.

Crane frowned. "It's very complicated. To put it simply, the mutagen that she has in her bloodstream is unstable, and so it constantly tries to keep itself stable by leeching various chemicals and minerals from her body. In return, it puts out a constant stream of adrenaline and poisons the carbon dioxide she breathes out, which she uses to paralyze her prey before she decides to kill them."

Becky shuddered. She was thankful that she wasn't close enough to Friitawa during their fight to experience that sensation. To watch powerlessly as you saw your own death was a very frightening concept to imagine.

"I quite agree," he said, noticing her tense body language. "But as long as she's not making any move to try to harm either of us, then we should be alright for now. We should instead focus on trying to get back to the lair before that annoying Bat discovers it." He turned to Hush. "You don't happen to have a disguise we could use, do you? Preferably one that isn't a short-sleeve Hawaiian shirt," he asked, hopefully.

"You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?"

"Well, gee, what do you think?" Crane quipped sarcastically, his arms folded and a cheeky grin on his face.

Hush sighed, a small frown on his face. "I'll see what I have," he said, trudging out of the room and into a small closet.

After a few minutes of wrestling with the sweaters that Hush had provided, the two were once again off onto the streets of Gotham.

Although Crane appreciated the warmth the sweater provided, he disagreed with the image on it. "Did I really have to get the one with Santa on it?"

"Hey, it could be worse. At least you have to long pants with your costume. I had to borrow pants just to prevent my legs from freezing off," Becky replied, trying to remain optimistic. The pants she was given to hid her costume's skirt was very bunchy around the waist area, and no matter how tight she pulled the strings, she couldn't get it to stay up.

"Hmm, true. Remind me later to buy leggings for your costume," he said, already making notes in his head for a winter version of her costume.

She chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't let you forget."

Suddenly she stopped.

Crane looked over his shoulder at her. "Becky, what's wrong?"

Becky shivered beneath her sweater. In front of her, blocking the way was the same impostor from her dreams. It stood straight and still, its glowing green eyes just staring at her sinisterly.

"Becky, what are you staring at?" Jonathan asked, trying to follow her gaze.

"Can't you see it?"

"See what?"

"The person in front of you. Look!" She cried, pointing towards the figure.

It reacted with a cocked head, its eternal smile plastered across its face.

"I don't see anything, Becky," he said, looking bewildered. He usually had to put up with this kind of stuff from Tetch, but Becky?

"What are you talking about? It's right…" she turned to look back, only to find empty space. "…There."

Crane just huffed. They needed to move quickly. The police could come by at any moment, and it would be very humiliating for them to catch the two standing there gawking at empty space like idiots. "Look, whatever it is, it can wait. Right now, all that matters is getting to the hideout and planning our next attack. Now, come on!" he said, already starting to walk away.

Becky sighed, following him, only to stop and look back one last time before hurrying to catch up.