Movin on, movin on...
That night Corrine lay in bed, her hair layered over her pillow that was dappled by moonlight spilling unevenly through the window. She thought only about him, as she had when she had earlier lain on the couch reading a novel but not seeing any of the words. She was enchanted by him now. By his smooth touch and voice, that felt as if something it held else more than the truth, but something inviting and lovely. By his eyes, completely the opposite of her own bland hazel irises. And of his face. Nothing else.
Crane sat quietly in one of his apartment's living room chairs. He had returned that night from a certain outing required by a peculiar & intriguing employment proposition. He did not think of Corrine now, as he had for the past few days. His jacket was discarded near his briefcase, charred and giving a strong stench of smoke entwined with petrol. He was slouched now in his chair, wearing black pants, a collared shirt, and the usually donned thin under sweater-vest. His glasses resting on the side table and his right hand propping his head layered by dark hair. His eyes were closed as he went over a certain detail of the night continually, a note book and pen laying on his lap with his peculiar handwriting dating a newly inserted entry. Every so often however, he would open his eyes, and his mind would wander to Corrine. And in time he fell asleep in this position, caught between two concerns.
Eight hours later, as Corrine walked from her apartment at 7am, closing the door behind her; she felt a hand on her stomach from behind her. She turned instantly and reached for him. Finding his hair with curling fingers she pressed herself against him as his hand that was on her abdomen moved to her lower back, his other to her neck underneath her wet, recently showered hair.
However, she did not move any further than this and Crane did not ask her to. She only looked at him quietly. And he breathed her in, loving her. Listening quietly, his face expressed only that of unperturbed acceptation.
"How did you know where I live?" she asked slowly, not truly considering the idea of Dr. Jonathan Crane looking her up in Gotham's Yellow Pages. But his response relieved her, if subconsciously, "I didn't, this is by coincidence." Corrine smiled softly at this and moved closer into his reach. "I want you to be here again in three hours. I do not have time to see you until then."
Crane had momentarily closed his eyes, but at this he opened them and looked directly at her. "Are you sure? I do not need that." But Corrine nodded, allowing the soft glow on her lips to continue. "Please." Crane watched her quietly for a moment, then nodded, and held on for just a moment before letting her go. At this, she turned away and walked down the way he came. He watched her before continuing to move towards Falcone's house.
Dr. Crane sat before Falcone, listening without any amusement to the humored words Falcone offered him in terms of Crane's manager's orders. The control of his gaze resting violently, in it's silence on the Crime Lord.
Crane continually thought incredibly little of Falcone. A man who indeed understood how to get himself what he desired of whatever category, but not of enough intelligence to distinguish the difference between what could be a mistake or accomplishment in gaining his desire. A characteristic which placed him in his position of present power, and under the arctic watch of Crane, sitting unseen before him.
Crane, having ignored Falcone's rambling about his preparation for a certain import, which should be directed to his boss as a certain satisfaction, leaned forward and captured Falcone's presently vague attention. Falcone paused immediately any notion of movement or speech, and began to find himself held by the man he once thought an arrogant young bastard. As the fat guard did.
"Perhaps you should stop, the direction's and order's you gave to your men on this particular import's handling are hardly worth my consideration or that of my manager, which I feel I must announce before you say any more. Certainly more enough to humiliate yourself later. All he desires, is for his requests to be carried out without question, and without manipulation of the original play."
He paused, and leaned back into his chair. Slowly, announcing his comfort in the present situation. But he smiled malignantly, and continued in brief and indisputably smooth words. "However, I have decided to accept the request you asked for in our last meeting. Perhaps you have scratched my back, but I have decided to scratch yours after all none-the-less. I will be taking charge of the operation soon, allowing you to rest and find a individual amount of peace for yourself." At this, Falcone made no response, but continued to watch him, for he had no response to give other than the previous Apprehensive stare. The undisturbed growing ease in Dr. Cranes features gave truth to this. As did the darkness within each facial shadow of his softly grinning face.
Corrine sat in the middle of the crowded classroom, listening to the lecture her professor was giving with the screenplay on brain development.
She had found herself completely in control of her emotions at the moment. Satisfied by the notion of what would take place in one hour and twenty minutes. So she sat comfortably on the wooden chair, relaxed and at ease as she scribbled names and areas of interest of the lecture into her leather notebook, consistently looking up to the slides of certain images in relation to the class. Absorbing the slowly strung sentences the aged Professor spilled in his heavy drawl.
She continued this for the next fifty minutes in the dark large room, hung with the scent of mold, Lysol, and several different colognes and hair fragrances. When the class was dismissed, Corrine rose, coughing and gathering her case and pens, and exited the room without speaking. She immediately made her way down 26th st. which would lead her home, ignoring the distant calls of a girlfriend as she walked home down the congested walk.
I altered Cranes conversation slightly after studying him a bit more, and made a few improved changes to the structure.
Reviewers will be given each a Dr. Crane/Scarecrow Action Figure.
(manufacterers nonexistent)
