The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter IX

"You have the key."

With a shaky hand, Sakura returned the phone to its cradle, her heart pounding in her ears, drowning out all other sounds of the clock ticking neatly and her Siamese cat mewing on top of a barstool. "The key," she murmured, searching her mind. "The key. The key, what key?" Her eyes clouded with confusion, then widened in realization. "Of course," she muttered before she nearly flew out of the kitchen and into the foyer.

"Come on, come on," she mumbled to herself, her hands searching wildly through her seemingly-bottomless Louis Vuitton messenger. The jingle of keys rang in her ears. "Thank you, God." She pulled them out and kissed them with a triumphant smile.

To the average person, they were simply a ring of keys. Two dull, cold iron and the other a polished bronze. In addition there was a circular keychain, similar to the iron keys, emblazoned with the double 'A' of Arkham Asylum. But the other side was what interested her and she turned the iron disk over in her slim fingers. Three numbers were engraved crudely into the other side and they smiled up at Sakura Falcone.

Originally, the key ring bore only the iron keys and the Arkham insignia. Originally, it belonged to Jonathan Crane and was the spare set to his apartment and his office. Sakura knew how much he loved her visits after a long, hard day at the asylum. Her quite musings were interrupted by the beep of a nearby clock. It was only a matter of time before that Dent character started questioning Jon.

Sakura arrived at the Narrows in record time, her car screeching as she turned every corner. Every time she ventured into the island ghetto envious looks were drawn but evaporated as quickly as they came. No one could even look at her without threat of dismemberment or death. Only one man had ever managed to do more than look.

She had opted to make the visit unaccompanied and her hand was on her gun as she climbed the steps leading up to the asylum. Her footsteps echoed off the marble of the lobby like rain on a tin roof and the nurses idling by the desk hurried away as quickly as they could, seeing Sakura's eyes smoldering with a deadly fire. Everyone at Arkham knew or at least had an inkling that her relationship with the Head of Psychiatric and Staff was more than recreational, but none had the courage, or stupidity, to confront either of the lovers. They knew why Sakura was there, what she was planning to do.

"I want to see him. Now!" she barked to the nearest nurse. The woman jumped and nodded, her friends giving her apologetic and worried glances. Her keys jingled nervously in her hands as she unlocked the door to the hallway on her right. Her laminated nametag read 'Sylvia'.

Once she had locked the door behind the seething woman, Sakura cleared her throat. "I'd like to visit his office, first, if you don't mind."

"Of-," the woman stuttered, looking to the elevator she was about to enter. "Of course, Miss Falcone. This way." She gestured away from the elevator and down the hall, but Sakura needed no direction to Crane's office. The shorter woman led the nurse, who shuffled along behind her, almost running to keep up with Sakura's surprisingly long strides.

Sylvia paused at the door to Crane's office, which Sakura opened with her key. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Sakura disappeared into the room, locking the door behind her. All Sylvia could do now was wait.

The room was no mystery to Sakura. Even in the dark, she could navigate the corner office with expertise. She knew the desk, from past experiences too painful to relive at the moment, she knew every piece of rigid furniture that mirrored Jonathan in every respect. Severe, straight backed chairs, a flat L-shaped desk, a file cabinet, and bookcases flanking the curtained window and lining the back wall. Such a familiar sight almost brought a breath of relief to Sakura, but she had no time.

The safe. She knew it was here. Jonathan had told her he kept a safe in his office. One night, she had asked if he carried proper protection at Arkham. He had replied that the doctors and nurses were only allowed a taser, while the guards carried nightsticks and firearms. Sakura's worried eyes persuaded him to accept a gun from her extensive inventory of weapons."I'll keep it in my office safe," he had said. That night, Sakura slept a full six hours without so much as a flicker of a dream. Knowing he was safe brought her peace. Perhaps that was why sleep had eluded her for the past weeks. She could sense an uneasiness in him, an anxiety that set him on edge. He had even refused her the week before, insisting he had work to do.

Sakura ran a hand down the exposed wall behind the desk, searching for seams in the plaster. She found none and turned to the desk. Nothing. She sighed in frustration and sent a disgruntled glare towards the door. She could hear the nurse tapping her toes anxiously. Sakura had half a mind to put a bullet in the back of the woman's head, but again, she didn't have the time, and couldn't afford half the nursing staff screaming over a little blood.

The bookcase. The voice in the back of her mind. She hadn't heard it in years, since her first heist, the last time she felt fear. But again, she had no time.

She turned back to the bookcase the wrapped the corner next to the desk. Slowly, she ran a quivering hand down the side of the faux wood, feeling for any sort of handle hold. There. She found the smallest space no more than an inch from the wall and slipped her fingers in, pulling back the bookcase with a small grunt. It swung on squeaking hinges and she glanced towards the door window of frosted glass. No movement. She was safe, for now. At her feet, the white baseboard ran to where it met the open bookcase, broken only by a square of wall lighter in color. A grin lit up Sakura's face as she crouched. As expected, a small dial was imbedded in the white plaster and she spun it to the according numbers on the keychain. With a click, it opened.

Jonathan, you genius.

Three things lay inside the safe. Two vials of clear liquid and a dusty gun.

"Here we are, Miss Falcone," the nurse said, eager to be rid of the underworld princess. "I'll just wait here."

Sakura nodded, her eyes downcast. In her hand, the two vials felt cool to her touch. "The cameras are deactivated?"

The nurse looked perplexed for a moment before nodding. "Yes, yes, they short-circuited earlier today. We don't know how-."

"And the guards?"

"They are on their break," she admitted sheepishly.

"Good." Then Sakura disappeared into the white cell, raising her dark eyes to the figure in a padded chair and straightjacket. A muscle in his face twitched as he tried to smile, but the onslaught to his senses proved too much to combat. "Jonathan," she whispered after a moment.

"I knew you'd come. You said you'd come." The look in his eyes was almost too much for her to bear. "Did you bring-?"

"Yes, of course, I did," she breathed, pulling up a metal chair from the corner. The woman held out her hand, showing the two vials and a syringe she had lifted off a nurse's cart on the way to his cell. "Are they-?"

"Antidotes?" he finished for her. She nodded mutely and he smirked. His mind had returned much quicker than those of his other victims; he had been inoculating himself regularly with the ever-changing antidote, but he had forgotten in the excitement of the past few days and his last dose had yet to wear off completely. "Yes. And this one is permanent vaccine to the toxin."

Alright, that's the end of that visit - NOT! HAHAHA, can't wait to write Crane's escape! Will be fun, yessirree bob…ahem, reviews and flames alike greatly appreciated.