3. And Face Me
Jonathan started. The woman knew who he was. But what did that mean? She hadn't had him arrested, or, presumably, taken to any of the people who would certainly be looking for him. So why had she taken in a madman? She could be working for Falcone or Ra's… There was no other reason for her to take him home. None he could think of, anyway. Well, he could think of a couple, but he didn't believe that they were very realistic.
"I know you're still here. There's no point in hiding, Doctor," she said gently. She didn't seem to be making any attempt to find him. Odd. She just kept talking, trying to convince him to come out. Well, he thought, there wasn't any reason to hide if she knew he was there.
He opened the door and stepped out. To his surprise, she was standing right in front of him. Her shoes were still near the door, he noticed. She smiled up at him.
"Glad you decided to come out, Doctor. Very wise of you," she added. He was struck with the thought of a cat playing with a mouse. Of course, she did look rather catlike. She had wild brown hair that seemed more like a mane. She also had large green eyes that seemed to laugh at him. She was almost a foot shorter than him, and quite pale. Also like a cat, she exuded self-confidence.
She frowned at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you talk?"
He gave a cold smile. "On occasion."
"Hm," she replied.
They stared at each other in silence. It occurred to him that he was still wearing the remains of his straight jacket over his suit. His suit coat and glasses were gone. He didn't know what had happened to his mask or his briefcase. He was also aware that he was a little the worse for wear: his hair was disheveled and his clothes were in tatters. Not to mention the scars on his face from the Taser, and multiple other bruises on him. Her clothing, on the other hand, was immaculate, though not fancy. She was wearing dark jeans and a vibrant green blouse, with a trench coat over them. She looked him up and down, clearly analyzing him as he was analyzing her. He decided to end the silence, which was becoming rather uncomfortable.
"May I ask for the name of my hostess?" he inquired politely.
She laughed, startling him. "You may," she said, grinning. Then, she cleared her throat and looked serious. "Jeanette Ducard, at your service. To an extent," she added, her grin returning.
Jonathan frowned. "It's a pleasure, Miss Ducard," he said after a moment.
"I'm sure it is," she replied mockingly. They frowned at each other for another minute or so. Then, she said, "Well, you must be hungry. You've been sleeping on my couch for almost a day. I don't know how long you were on the street," she added, looking surprisingly apologetic.
"Thank you," he said coldly.
She smirked, then led the way to the kitchen.
It was very awkward while she watched him eat. She didn't eat anything. He was starving, otherwise he would have refused. She might poison him, after all. But he decided that he still didn't have anything in particular to live for, so he might as well feed his stomach as well as his curiosity. She had made him some sort of soup. Given the state of the kitchen, he was pretty sure that was the extent of her culinary prowess. He wasn't partial to this kind of soup, but food was food. And he hadn't eaten in days. How many he wasn't sure. Surprising how the little things could be so hard to remember, even before losing his mind.
He finished eating quickly so he could ask her some questions. As soon as his bowl was empty, she swept it away and looked at him expectantly. He wasn't sure what she was anticipating him to say. "Who are you?" he asked.
She smiled. "Miss Ducard," she replied teasingly.
He frowned. "Yes, I know your name. But who are you? And how do you know who I am?"
"You're quite famous. Not to mention lucky I found you first. I doubt any of the other… interested parties would have been so kind to you," she told him.
"Kind?" he asked.
"They probably wouldn't have broken into Arkham to steal the antidote, not to mention get some of your stuff for you." She paused, then pulled something out of her coat pocket: his glasses. She handed them to him, and he put them on quickly.
"Thank you."
She smiled, then continued. "Probably would have just let you slip from sanity. But, me, I didn't want to have you wake up and be completely gone mentally. Especially as I probably wouldn't have gotten rid of you yet," she added.
"And what made you think that I was sane before getting a taste of my own medicine?" he asked with a small smile.
She shrugged. "Every little bit helps," she said, matching his smile, though she had a guarded look in her eyes.
His narrowed a little. "What do you plan to do with me?" he asked warily.
"I don't know yet. Depends on how you treat me, I think."
"What will you do when you decide?"
"You mean, what are my choices to do with you? Well, I could take you to the police, or to your asylum. I could let you go and let you figure out what to do. I could keep you here," she said with a grin. "Or I could take you to my brother in law," she added thoughtfully.
"Who is?" Jonathan asked.
Jeanette smiled brightly. "Your former boss, I believe. Ra's al Ghul."
He stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me," she replied.
"I thought he must be dead," he said to himself.
"Batman tried. But failed so far. However, from what I'm told, he's not very well off at the moment." She paused. "Did he tell you what he was planning?"
"No."
"Oh. Well, he was planning on destroying the city," she began.
"I know," he cut her off. She frowned at him. "I guessed," he explained.
She smiled. "Ah. Of course. And that didn't bother you?"
He shrugged and looked away. "Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, it did a little. But there wasn't anything I could do about it. And I doubt he would have just let me go if I tried to back out." He frowned. "I suppose I could have tried to kill him," he added thoughtfully.
She laughed. He looked at her sharply. "It takes a lot to kill that one. Trust me, I've tried," she replied seriously.
He blinked at her in surprise. "Why?"
"Let's just say we have a difference in opinion," she explained.
"Oh." He frowned again. "Would you care to elaborate?"
"Not really."
"Ah." Jonathan
thought about this for a few minutes. "Why doesn't he just kill
you, then?"
"Because sometimes I can be very helpful to him.
When I choose to cooperate, that is," she added.
"And when do you choose?"
"When it's worth my while," she said, smiling.
"Ah," he said again. He wasn't sure he wanted her to elaborate on this. She laughed at his short response.
"Never assume, my dear. I just take cash," she explained.
He smiled slightly. "Of course."
