a bit of an explanation: I don't really know that much about the "batman" world...so some of the character backgrounds, job titles, names, etc may not quite fit with what you already know...so I'm admitting the error on my part and just asking that to be overlooked & replaced with whatever facts you might already know.
disclaimer: i still own nothing, never have, never will. and i also don't own the title (a track name from the"Road to Perdition" soundtrack) or any of the quotes that are the chapter titles.
Chapter 2: The invitation
"You don't think she is faking do you?" Evelyn casually asked Jonathon as they peered through the tiny glass window.
"Certainly not," Jonathon sharply answered, "the glassed over look in the eyes, the shaking, the near-panic state," he paused, "no…I'd say it's all real." He turned to face Evelyn who looked almost sick. "You don't look so well—are you alright?" He heard himself ask, a form of concern hinging on his words.
"I guess so," she answered unsteadily, "it's unnerving to see a mind splintered like that—makes you wonder what could keep it from happening to you." She turned her eyes back to the small pane of glass on the door, but not before they froze on the wall.
Quickly Evelyn snapped her gaze away, fighting back obsessing thoughts. She couldn't lose it, not here, and especially not in front of Jonathon— and she forced her eyes to turn to the poor woman inside. Her lips were moving…it looked as though she was repeating "scarecrow" over and over.
"You see the movement of the lips no doubt," he said casually, as though it was nothing important, "her constant muttering of the word 'scarecrow.'"
"Of course," she quickly answered, closing her eyes and fighting back the overwhelming urge to pace the floor, "it's not uncommon for someone griped by fear to focus it on one external object." Jonathon turned to her with an almost glaring eye. Since when did she know about fear? She was no psychiatrist or psychologist…and certainly not as versed in the subject as he.
"That is correct," he simply said, as though a mentor to her student, "I have not had a research assistant who knew about the actual work and goings on here. What did you study at college?"
"Major in mechanical engineering, minor in psychology."
"So you know about the workings of a mind?"
"Not half as well as you," she answered, a knowing tone to her voice, turning to meet his approving, confident, almost cold gaze, "but enough to know that it interests me…and enough to understand how so complex a machine could so easily fracture."
"A machine...?" He questioned almost dismissively. No doubt the engineer in her thought it that way…and he supposed in a way he did too—it was just so powerful and delicate, but it had a breaking point. Everyone's did, and no one's was above a simple fear.
"What started your interest in the mind?" She suddenly, casually asked, jarring him from his thoughts, before her eyes subconsciously strayed to the wall again.
"Oh, I saw first hand the affects of mental illness," he said almost devoid of emotion, but with some arrogance still breaking through, "knew the lengths it could drive a man. And that knowledge created fear—we always fear what we don't understand—and so it became fascinating—fear in of itself. So, I wrote my thesis on fear, it seemed fitting enough…and now, here I am." He shrugged indifferently as though it wouldn't have mattered where he was. Evelyn turned sharply from the wall, forcing herself to focus on the detached tone in his voice.
She guessed his story was a sugar coated version. Some mystery and coldness, covered by arrogance and glimpses of charm, always surrounded Jonathon Crane. But it was intriguing nonetheless. And in the weeks she had been working around him…the more she felt herself drawn to him. Some mysteriously alluring spell in those entrancing blue eyes of his just fixated her.
Suddenly she shook her head, trying to chase such thoughts away. Crane was nothing more than a colleague, a friend…and her boss. Nothing more. Yet no matter the thoughts of Jonathon running through her head, her eyes still traveled back to the wall, unable to let it go.
Jonathon watched her eyes quickly dart to the wall again before moving back to his. Discreetly, curiously, he turned his own eyes to the wall, noticing only a file holder that had lost a screw and hung lopsided on the wall. Well, well, well.
He glanced back over at Evelyn, whose eyes were now shut as she swallowed hard. A slight, surprised smirk spread across his face. Silently he wondered what her compulsion was.
"Evelyn, are you sure you're all right?" He curiously asked again, making sure to put a note of concern in his voice.
"Of course." She quickly reassured him, forcing a smile before her eyes flitted back to the box for but a second…fighting not to pace the floor, or hyperventilate.
"You don't look so well." He took a step closer to her, blocking her view of the box. Remove the cause and study the after effects.
"Well you shouldn't worry," she said, forcing her thoughts on Jonathon, shifting her focus, "I'm fine."
"Good." Together they started off down the corridor as he watched her relax and let go her obsession. But he hadn't fully picked up a compulsive behavior—no hand rubbing, no rapid breathing and blinking, no hair twirling.
Whatever it was, she worked at it. Maybe she was on medication for it, and that was what helped. He glanced sideways at her, noticing a most inwardly pensive look across her pale face.
Obsessive compulsive disorder. Who would have thought it in Evelyn Werren?
"Ah Jonathon." She turned as did Jonathon at the warm voice coming from down the hall. Dr. Benjamin Sawyer. He reached the pair in no time, exchanging a warm greeting with them both, engaging them in slight conversation about the patient in cell #4B.
"Sounds like quite an issue," Evelyn commented, grateful for conversation to distract her mind, "a family reunion, and the family wants this man to appear at their party…even though he is a serial killer?" Sawyer looked just as confused as she did.
"So they say," Sawyer said darkly, rolling his eyes, "so we're sorting through all sorts of legal affairs and evaluations, trying to determine if this beneficial and how much legal say the family has." Jonathon nodded understandingly, it all seeming a bit absurd to him. "And speaking of parties," Sawyer suddenly said, "Jonathon, there's a black tie benefit hosted by Bruce Wayne at the end of the week to raise money for the Gotham Children Hospital. I received an invitation and am unable to attend for family reasons, but I would be more than grateful if you would go and give Arkham's donation." Evelyn watched a look of hatred fill Jonathon's eyes, but a small smile of delight spread across his aquiline, angular face.
"I would be happy to." Jonathon smoothly lied, covered by his smile and tone.
"Wonderful," Sawyer smiled happily, "and as far as needing a date goes—why you've already got that solved. Why not take the lovely Miss Evelyn here—you two would make a smart looking couple." Evelyn felt her cheeks burn bright red as she fought to keep a smile back. She could only guess the look on Jonathon's face. "Well, I will see you two later no doubt. Thanks again Jonathon."
"Any time Benjamin." Crane called out after the doctor's retreating form.
"Don't feel as though you have to take me to the charity benefit," Evelyn quickly said, "I would understand completely if you already had someone else in mind."
"I would not mind your company," he shortly said, his eyes fixing on hers, "I would welcome it to the dim crowd that Wayne's parties attract." The ever familiar arrogant tone lacing his voice.
"Thank you—sounds like a lovely evening."
"If we can survive the evening with our intelligence in tact." He said almost indifferently earning a soft laugh from Evelyn, causing a small smile on his face.
"From the stories I've heard, that sounds like a true challenge." She agreed as they left the maximum security wing.
"But I think together, we'll be able to see it through." He said, casting her a quick hint of a smile.
Something about him...when he let himself, he was attractive and charming, and she could believe herself in love with him.
From the weeks they'd been working together, they had gotten along amazingly well—her style seemed to fit his exactly. It was a little uncanny, and even though there wasn't much lightness between them, she could see they had developed a relationship that extended just beyond employer and employee.
And as she closed the door to her office, she made a mental note to let maintenance know to fix that lopsided file holder before her next visit to the maximum security wing.
So, whaddya think? Worth continuing? Too predictable, too convenient, too horrible? Review if'n ya want. And with luck, chapter 3 will be up within the next week or so. Thanks for reading!