Cash might have attempted to give him a lecture as they left the brownstone, but Edward hadn't heard any of it. He'd walked to his car, cane hooked over his shoulder, books in hand, and hadn't looked back. He set the books on the roof of his car as he unlocked it, then placed them and his cane inside before he got in. Then, for a long while, he sat there, mind racing with what Cash had said. That doesn't mean you're not in love with her. He shook his head. He wasn't. He would know if he was. He'd known with Jonathan, he'd know if he was in love with Penelope. There were perfectly logical reasons for what he was doing for her that didn't involve being in love with her. The mystery of whoever stole the TITAN from GCPD lockup was a riddle to be solved, and solving riddles was his reason to get out of bed in the morning.

Another voice whispered treacherously whispered in his head. Are you really going to pretend that's the only reason you're involved in this? Lying doesn't suit you, Edward.

Edward frowned. Alright. Fine. It obviously was more than solving the riddle. She was his friend. She'd gone out of her way to help him in the past. He owed it to her to keep her safe.

Selina's your friend too, and you've never offered her half of what you're offering Penelope now.

Edward slammed his hand on the steering wheel. It was different with Selina. Penelope wasn't like Selina, or Oswald, or Deirdre, or Nina, or Jonathan, or him. They had all lived on the margins for years, they were born to live in that dangerous underworld of Gotham. Penelope wasn't. She was a smart woman, of course. She was more than competent, otherwise, Edward wouldn't have paid her a second thought, but she simply didn't have the skillset to protect herself that operating as a Rogue in Gotham City for over a decade had given him and his other friends. The incident with Goodman was proof of that. She needed the extra help, she needed to be protected, and who better to protect her than him? Nobody thought twice about how protective he was of Ellen, why should Penelope be any different? Was it getting hot in here? Edward wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and realized he was starting to sweat. He checked his watch. Well, of course. It was noon now, and the sun was bearing down on his car. Just how long how had he been wasting time thinking about this nonsense? He had important work to do. He started the car, turned the air conditioning on to full blast, and headed towards his office. Schrader was his best suspect. He needed to start a background investigation on him, then call his informant in GCPD. Then hopefully, he could get back to Penelope before it got dark. Just to make sure she was safe, of course. That was all it was.

He wasn't in love with her. He wasn't. He'd know if he was.

When Penelope woke up, the sun was still out, but lower in the sky than it had been when she'd fallen asleep that morning. She blinked, then pushed herself up to a sleeping position on the bed. She was feeling better than she had for the past few days, but her eyelids were still heavy. She stretched her arms above her head and popped her back. Edward's bed was softer than her own was, and the sheets were made of finer material, even if she thought the emerald green color was a bit much. It was tempting to lie back down, but she'd never been one to lie the day away when there were other, more productive things she could be doing with her time. She glanced at the clock on Edward's nightstand. It was 6:00. She'd been asleep for over seven hours. That was enough for now. She heard the sound of drawers opening from the kitchen and jumped a bit at the sudden sound. Then she realized that it could only be Edward. She got off of the bed and walked down the hallway.

Edward was at his dining room table, setting down a glass of water when he heard her approach. He looked up and smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Well!" he said jovially. "Look who's awake!"

"Hello, Edward," Penelope said, taking the seat across from him at the dining room table. "How long have you been back?"

"Just over an hour," Edward answered, taking her in. She looked a bit more well rested than she had this morning, even if the dark circles under her eyes remained. Her hair was still down too, tussled a bit from sleep. She'd been completely dead to the world when he'd come back to the apartment and checked in on her. She'd even slept through him almost dropping one of her books on his foot. She looked him in the eyes and he realized that he was staring. He quickly shook his head. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Penelope answered. "How did it go at my apartment?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "Business as always I see. Well, I did manage to get to see the vandalism for myself. Well, me and Cash."

Penelope looked at him with surprise. "Aaron was there? Why?"

"Evidently, he wants to assist in the investigation. I'm tolerating it, for now."

Penelope folded her hands in front of her. She'd expected that once she told him the full truth of her and Edward's relationship that Aaron would insert himself in the situation. It had been why she'd hesitated to tell him for so long. She looked back up at Edward to see that there was a peculiar look on his face. "What is it?"

Edward shook his head. Had Cash ever asked Penelope if the two of them were...dating? If he hadn't, Edward certainly wasn't going to bring it up. She had enough on her mind without having to deal with her friend's overactive imagination. "Nothing. At any rate, I have a credible suspect in mind."

Penelope leaned forward, dreading what he'd say. "Who?"

"Schrader."

Penelope's blood ran cold. "Detective Schrader? Are you sure?" She didn't want to believe it, but it made terrible sense.

"Well, I can't prove it, but think about it. Who better to cover their tracks than a detective? As one of the senior most detectives and Montoya's partner, he's in a perfect position to serve as Strange's inside man. You also have to consider the timing. Bullock was pushed out by the Commission and Schrader took his place almost immediately. That was no doubt part of Strange's plan to undermine Gordon." Edward gave her a sharp nod. "You've mentioned that you and Schrader don't get along. Has he ever gone out of his way to antagonize you? Has he ever shown you any undue interest?"

Penelope thought back to every interaction she'd ever had with Schrader, then she slowly shook her head. "No. The opposite, actually. He tries to stay out of my way as much as possible-" Then her mind went back to their encounter in the bullpen yesterday. "Wait," she murmured. "Yesterday, before I went home...I was at GCPD to check in with Gordon, then I stayed in catch up on work...I was so tired. Schrader offered to let me sleep in the crib. I was out for a few hours. I thought he was being decent, but-"

"He knew you'd be at GCPD for the time being," Edward finished. "He used that time to get to your apartment and vandalize it." His eyes flashed a hard green and Penelope realized just how angry he was. "I started a background check on Schrader after I left your apartment. I haven't found anything to solidly link him to Strange, Sharp, or Ward but when I do..." his mouth formed a cruel smirk that sent a chill down her spine. "I think I may pay him a personal visit."

"Don't," Penelope said. "Edward, this isn't like what happened with Ellen and Bolton. Schrader's a decorated detective and all we have is circumstantial evidence. You know even better than I do how GCPD protects their own. If you go after him without definitive proof, you're the one who'll get into trouble."

Edward frowned at her. "Penelope, I've nailed people for far worse with a lot less. Or do you have another suspect in mind you haven't told me about?"

Penelope sighed. "I'm not saying don't investigate him. I'm asking you not to directly confront him until we know for sure. It's too dangerous." She looked beseechingly at him. "Please."

Edward looked into her face, twisted with concern. Concern for him, he realized. Even though she was the one in hiding, she was trying to protect him still. He huffed. How could he refuse her anything when she looked at him like that? "Fine. I won't act against Schrader without tangible proof." Not Schrader. Not yet. He watched her relax a bit with relief. She was so tense. "Well," he said jovially, "On a more pleasant topic. I brought you something from your apartment."

He stifled a laugh as she almost snapped back with surprise. "You did what? What did you bring?"

Edward gestured to the coffee table in front of his couch. "Go see for yourself."

Penelope got out of her seat and walked over to the coffee table. She saw a pile of books stacked on the table and her jaw dropped in surprise. "Those are my books!" She picked up the first book on the stack, a book on neuropsychiatry that she'd been reading before all of this had happened. She turned around to see that Edward had followed her from the dining room table, a satisfied grin on his face. "Why on Earth did you bring my books?"

Edward shrugged. "I thought you might appreciate a few things from home."

Penelope looked at each book in the stack and recognized them as the ones she'd had on her nightstand back in her apartment. She realized that this meant he had been in her bedroom and she felt her face flush before she willed it away. Of course, he had. He'd been looking for evidence after all. And she'd just slept in his room, she had no right to feel embarrassed. She hugged the book she held against her chest. "You really didn't have to-"

"I'm aware of that," Edward interrupted, rolling his eyes a bit. That seemed to be a catchphrase of hers. Did she not allow anyone to do anything nice for her, or was she just so unused to having nice things done for her that she didn't know how to respond? "I wanted to."

She looked at him with genuine gratitude. "Thank you."

This was the happiest he'd seen her since he'd been made aware of this whole mess. Mission accomplished. "Not at all." She smiled slightly, then turned her attention back to her books, putting the one she had in her hand back down. He watched her as she looked at another one almost reverently. It was the textbook on Greek mythology he'd noticed earlier that day. "Did you study Greek mythology?" he found himself asking. "That book looks almost as old as I am."

Penelope shook her head. "I didn't personally, no. I've always had a bit of an interest in it though. This book was my father's. He was a classics major in college."

Ah. The man in the picture. Well, this seemed as good a time as any to delve deeper into her background. "You know," he said. "It seems like you know almost all there is to know about me, but I don't think I've ever heard you talk much about yourself."

Penelope sat down on the couch and scoffed. "I very much doubt I know everything about you, Edward." Why was he asking about this now? Curiosity, most likely. If nothing else, he was a curious man. "I'm a bit surprised you don't have a file on me somewhere."

Edward chuckled, then took a seat next to her, far enough to give her plenty of space, but close enough to properly engage her in conversation. "Who says I don't? Maybe I just want to hear it from you."

Penelope shrugged. "There really isn't that much to tell. My childhood wasn't that interesting."

"Well, not all of us can have a tragic past. And if your childhood really was that boring, there's no harm in telling me, is there?"

God, but he really was a stubborn man. Still, she supposed she could indulge him. "What do you want to know?"

Edward smirked in triumph. Everything. I want to know everything about you. He pointed at the mythology book. "Tell me more about that."

A ghost of a smile came across her face. "Well, as I said, my father was a classics major. He had a particular interest in Ancient Greece. He studied abroad in Athens for a semester. That's where he met my mother. When the semester was over, he brought her back to Ohio with him. I was born a few years later."

"Well, that beats any regular souvenir," Edward quipped. "I have to admit though, I'm having a little trouble picturing you as a typical Midwestern girl."

"I wasn't," Penelope admitted. "I loved my parents, of course, but I never really felt like I fit in there. My father taught Ancient history in the college that was in town, and I spent more time there reading books than I did with children my own age. After school, I used to shut myself in one of the study rooms, do my homework, read, and making a plan to get out as soon as I could."

Edward could just picture that too. Just like Jonathan. Just like him. "What did your parents think of that?"

"Well, they didn't like the idea of me leaving, but they always encouraged me to work hard and study. My father especially was thrilled that I liked to read so much. My mother worried a bit that I didn't socialize very much-" she could still hear her mother's voice too. "Poppy Mou, I know you like working, but people weren't meant to be alone, you know?" She shook her head. "But she never discouraged me from doing what I wanted. We were a close family."

Edward hummed wistfully. "That must have been nice."

"It was," Penelope agreed. "When I was very young, my father would actually read the Odyssey to me as a bedtime story. He and my mother named me Penelope after the character in that, actually."

"I figured as much," Edward said. Odysseus's wife, outwitting her suitors and staying loyal to her husband, no matter how lost he seemed. "Not the worst character to be named after."

"I used to hate that I was named after her," Penelope said. "When I was a girl, I thought she was boring compared to some of the other women in mythology."

"Would you have preferred 'Circe' or 'Medea'?"

"No, I wouldn't have," Penelope admitted. She sighed, thinking back to the time she'd spent in Ohio with her parents. It seemed like a lifetime ago. "Once I graduated high school, I got a scholarship to Gotham University and I never looked back. I wanted the chance to live in a big city and to do great things." Gotham University, Arkham, TITAN. Her face fell. "I suppose I got what I wanted, didn't I?"

Edward frowned a bit. This wasn't the direction he'd wanted this to go. "Well, it wasn't all bad, was it?" He asked. "You met me, didn't you?"

Penelope let out a small laugh and his heart leaped up. "I did I suppose," she said. "And Joan and Aaron and everyone else. In all honesty, I still don't regret coming to Gotham."

Edward nodded. "With your father's interest in antiquity, why did you go into psychiatry?"

"Well, even though I've never had an easy time getting along with people, I'm still fascinated by them," Penelope answered. "I love examining the human mind, trying to figure out what makes it work, how to put a broken mind back together again."

Edward smiled a bit. She liked putting puzzles together. She was more like him than either of them had ever realized. "Was that why you had seventy-six sessions with me back in Arkham? To conquer the great challenge that is Edward Nigma?"

If she was put out by his bringing up their past at Arkham, she didn't show it. "Partly," she admitted. She shot him a smirk of her own. "I also didn't want to let you have the last word."

Edward threw his head back and laughed. Then he checked his watch. It was almost 7:00. He hadn't eaten yet that day, and he suspected she hadn't either. He got up from the couch. "Well, I'm going to make dinner. What would you like?"

Penelope also got up from the couch. "I can just fix something for myself. You don't have to-"

Edward cut her off. "No no, I insist. You're the guest."

Penelope put her hands on her hips and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't like being waited on."

Now they were at an impasse. Edward put his hands up. "Fine. We'll do it together. Agreed?"

Penelope nodded. "Agreed."

Edward grinned. "Good." Such a stubborn, independent, smart person. Just the kind he liked-no. Don't go there. You're not in love with her. You're not. "While we're at it, you can tell me a bit about your mother."

It had been a long week for Bruce.

He'd kept in close contact with Gordon since speaking to him after the latest TITAN attack. He had just come from the GCPD rooftop, as a matter of fact, sharing his update with the Commissioner. Gordon had narrowed down the suspect pool around the TITAN theft to three beat cops with known disciplinary issues. He'd pulled two of them in for questioning, while the third, an Officer Alvarez, had seemingly disappeared. Bruce would look into that after he was done tonight. He'd had Barbara and Tim check street chatter for leads on which gangs had access to the stolen TITAN, and tracked them down, one by one. It was grueling work, but he'd managed to destroy the samples he'd found after dealing with the gang members. He was on his way to the Narrows now, after Barbara had managed to uncover where the bulk of the remaining TITAN was being kept. Hopefully, after tonight, the last of it would be destroyed and Bruce could concentrate on finding Officer Alvarez and finding out who had ordered him to steal the TITAN. Bruce clenched his hands around the steering wheel. Gordon had told him about Dr. Young's apartment being vandalized the previous day. Further proof that whoever had ordered the TITAN theft had done so with the objective of sending her a message. He doubted the order had come directly from Strange, but he also doubted that Bolton was the only lackey the warden of Arkham Asylum had carrying out his dirty work. Given their exchange at the Commission, Ward was a likely suspect, but he'd need to find more evidence before confronting the warden of Blackgate. According to Gordon, Dr. Young had left Gotham for the time being. At least now whatever happened, she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. And if Dr. Young was gone, hopefully, that meant Edward wouldn't involve himself in the situation. Bruce had had a difficult enough time tracking down the TITAN without having to keep an eye on the private investigator.

The speaker in the Batmobile crackled to life and Dick's voice sounded over the intercom. "Hey, Bruce."

Bruce leaned forward and pressed the button to talk back. "Come in, Nightwing."

"So I did what you asked and kept an eye out in Bludhaven. It looks like so far, none of the TITAN's made its way here."

Bruce let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm heading to where Oracle thinks the last of it is being held in the Narrows. I'm ending this tonight."

"The Narrows? Do you want me to come and back you up? I can be in Gotham in an hour."

"That won't be necessary, Dick," Bruce said firmly. "I can handle this. You're needed in Bludhaven."

There was a pause before Dick spoke again. "Okay. As long as you're sure. You change your mind, you know my number."

"I won't, but thanks anyway. Batman out." He leaned forward again to switch off the communicator when Barbara's voice broke in. "Bruce? Are you there?"

Bruce frowned at the tone in her voice. She sounded worried. "I'm here, Oracle. What's happened?"

"I just picked up on a phone call my father received. Bane escaped from prison three days ago."

TITAN was stolen from GCPD lockup and Bane escaped from prison. That couldn't be a coincidence. "That was the plan all along," Bruce spoke through gritted teeth. "The TITAN was released to lure Bane to Gotham."

"My God. Would Strange and his cohorts really go that far just to get rid of Dr. Young?"

"I don't think we've scratched the surface of far they'll go to get what they want. I'm on my way to the Narrows to get the last of the TITAN. Keep me posted. Batman out." Bruce hit the gas on the Batmobile. Bane was either on his way to Gotham, or he was already here. Bruce had to get to the TITAN and destroy it before Bane could get his hands on it. If Bane got to it before he did... "I will break you, Batman. Then the bruja!"

At least Dr. Young wasn't in Gotham. She'd be spared this.

"So when do I get to come on patrol with you?"

Jason brought his bike to a stop a block away from where the Kiddo lived. "You need at least another six weeks in the gym before I take you out on look-out duty, Kiddo. Here's your stop."

She got off the bike with a groan. "Look-out duty? Lame."

Jason shrugged. He had to admire her spunk, but sometimes it seemed like she had even less common sense than Eddie did. "You want to jump the gun and come out early, you get to explain to Daddy why you're in the hospital."

The quip seemed to have its intended effect on Enigma as she shuddered. "There's a conversation I never want to have. So are you gonna get the last of that TITAN crap tonight?"

"That's the plan," Jason said. "I'll tell you all about it when we meet up next week."

"Yeah, yeah." Enigma bit her bottom lip. "Are you gonna be okay doing it by yourself?"

Jason revved his bike. "Aww, you worried? I've faced worse odds. See you later, Kiddo." He gave her a salute before he turned his bike around and drove back towards the Narrows. When he hadn't been having training sessions with the Kiddo, otherwise occupied, he'd been chasing down information about which gangs had TITAN. After a few broken bones and gunshots, he'd found the location for the remainder of the crap. The West Side Bangers had a safe house on a street that bordered the Narrows and the worst parts of the Lower West Side neighborhoods. Jason had busted it more than once since he'd set up shop in the Narrows, though never for something as serious as this.

Fifteen minutes after he'd dropped off the Kiddo, Jason pulled into an alleyway just behind the dilapidated old building. As he walked away from his bike, he pulled out his pistols from his jacket. He didn't come here to kill, but if the punks holed up in here had any ideas about using the TITAN against him, he'd put a bullet between their eyes. When he rounded the corner and took a look at the front entrance, he instantly went on the alert. The front door of the building was pulled off of its hinges and lying in the street. Jason narrowed his eyes, made sure both guns were loaded, then slowly walked inside. Looks like the punks had company.

The ramshackle old house was quiet as he entered. Too quiet. Jason walked slowly down the hallway, mentally preparing himself for an ambush. He entered what had been the kitchen once upon a time and took in the scene. The still bodies of four gangbangers were lying in the kitchen. There was no TITAN in sight. Jason walked up to the one lying closest to him and crouched down. From the way his neck was twisted, he was obviously dead. It looked like whoever had killed him and the others had done so with their bare hands. Jason frowned. This wasn't another gang attack. He could do a search of the house, but he knew deep down that the TITAN was long gone. But who in Gotham wanted the TITAN and was strong enough to do all of this?

He heard a noise behind him and got to his feet, pistols at the ready. When he saw who it was, he slowly lowered them and scoffed. "Hey Old Man. Long time no see."

Batman stepped into the kitchen, taking in the scene for himself. "What are you doing here, Jason?"

"Same thing as you, I guess," Jason answered, putting his guns away. "Trying to get rid of the TITAN." He gestured to the bodies lying around them. "Looks like someone beat us to it. Got any idea who?"

Batman pushed past him, examining the crime scene for himself. "It's not something to concern yourself with."

"That crap's been causing chaos in my neighborhood for weeks. Damn straight it's something I'm 'concerning myself with.'" Batman turned to him with a narrowed glare when both of their attention was caught by a low groaning. One of the bodies, half-hidden under the kitchen table, was stirring. "Well shit," Jason said. "Looks like they missed one."

Bruce dropped to his knees to examine the man. He looked battered, but he was breathing. "Who did this?" he asked, dreading the answer.

The man groaned from the exertion of speaking. "Bane," he managed to choke out. "Bane was here. He killed the guys, tried to kill me. He took the TITAN, all of it. He said...he said the bruja was next..."

He was too late. Bane was in Gotham and now he had TITAN. "Don't speak," Bruce said. "I'm calling for an ambulance."

Jason stepped forward while Batman was occupied with the gangbanger. "Bane, huh? Good luck with that." Jason didn't consider himself weak, but he knew his limitations. "Who or what's the bruja?"

Bruce didn't answer. He texted the news to Gordon and to Oracle to send for medical attention. "I'll only ask you one more time, Jason. Stay out of this." He got up and walked out of the kitchen without so much as a look back at his former partner. Bane with TITAN again...the situation was only to get worse before it got better.

At least Dr. Young wasn't in Gotham.

Edward leaned his head back and let out a long, hard laugh. "You are absurd," he said between giggles. "You really didn't think there was any connection between accusing Flanagan of not being able to control rats and finding more of them in your office afterward? Really?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and took another sip of water. "Correlation does not equal causation, Edward. In my time at Arkham, I never saw any definitive proof that Flanagan could control rats."

"What about the infestation then?"

"Well, given the amount of care that Sharp put into the asylum's upkeep, it was more likely that he simply hired a shoddy exterminator. There was, and still isn't any proof that Flanagan can control rats."

Edward let out another chuckle. "In this city alone, we have a clay man who can change his appearance to look like anyone else, a woman who is more plant than human, and a man who can only survive in a subzero environment, but a man controlling rats is where you draw the line?"

"Well, I saw direct evidence firsthand of Karlo, Isley, and Fries' abilities and conditions. I never did with Flanagan, and I'm not one to take something on blind faith."

"I think you're just being stubborn."

"No, I'm not," Penelope argued. She took a look at the clock on Edward's bookshelf. It was after 11 now. They'd been sitting at his dining room table exchanging stories for the past four hours. Where had the time gone? "Well," she said. "We've gone through childhood, college, medical school, and Arkham, at least all about Arkham I'm willing to talk about." She gave him a wry look. "Why you could never be this talkative and accommodating during our sessions is beyond me."

Edward smirked. "And where would the fun in that have been? I thought you enjoyed the challenge!"

Penelope shook her head. "And you call me stubborn. I think I've just about run out of things to tell you about myself."

Edward could listen to her for hours. Why had he been so combative with her at Arkham? Probably just because they were at Arkham. And to tell the truth, they had been different people then. The next question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Has there ever been a Mr. Dr. Young?" Almost immediately, he felt his face burn. Why on Earth had he asked that?

Penelope arched an eyebrow. "That's a bit personal, isn't it?"

For the second time that day, Edward was at a loss for words. What was she doing to him? "I-well-" he stammered. Then he cleared his throat. "Well, turnabout is fair play. You know all about my romantic woes."

Penelope took another sip of water as she considered whether or not to tell him and why he'd really asked. Well, he had a point. She knew all about Selina and Professor Crane, and about as much as he did about Diane Dixon. "I've never been married," she began. "I did have a serious relationship when I was in medical school."

Edward frowned a bit. "Oh?" Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.

Penelope nodded, thinking back to that time in medical school. "His name was Michael Conroy. We met during our first year in medical school. He was studying cardiology and we happened to meet during a clinical rotation, and he asked me out for coffee. We started dating soon after." She thought back on him and smiled a bit. "He was a very intelligent, articulate, dedicated man."

And he probably had a full head of hair and perfect teeth. Edward had never and would most likely never meet this Dr. Michael, but he already hated his guts. He kept the expression on his face neutral. "So whatever happened to Dr. Perfect?" he asked.

Penelope sighed, too lost in her memories to notice the edge in his voice. "Well, near the end of medical school, we started talking about what we wanted our future to look like. I wanted to start my career and stay in Gotham City. He wanted to get married, move out to the suburbs, and start a family right away." She ran her fingers through her hair. "We realized that our longterm goals were incompatible and we went our separate ways. I keep in touch with him from time to time. He's married now and has two children."

Edward leaned forward a bit, cupping his face in his hand. "Do you regret not marrying him?"

Instantly, Penelope shook her head. "Not at all. That wasn't what I wanted for my life."

Edward snorted. "Mrs. Dr. Michael Conroy with an ivy-covered house and 2.5 kids. You would have been bored senseless. You need more excitement in your life."

Penelope scoffed. "I think that's about the last thing I need right now, Edward."

"Alright, fair point. Let me rephrase. You're an unconventional woman. You have unconventional interests and goals. You need someone who appreciates that, who won't try to force you into a box. Someone who can match you, challenge you even, someone like-" Like who, Edward? He cleared his throat. "Well. Someone."

Penelope shook her head again. "I'm too busy for that." She looked again toward the clock. It was past 11:30 now, and she still felt tired. "Well, I don't want to keep you up too late," she said, getting up from the table.

Edward got up. "It's no problem for me," he said. "I'm regularly up until three in the morning."

"That's not something to be proud of," she lightly scolded. Then she wet her lip. "Edward, I know what you've been doing tonight."

Edward blinked. "Really?" He didn't even know what he was doing. "What have I been doing?"

"You're trying to distract me from what's going on."

Oh. Oh. Of course. That was all. What else could she have been thinking? What else was he thinking? He plastered on a smirk. "Has it been working?"

Penelope let out a small chuckle. "A bit. Thank you."

Edward's smirk was replaced by a genuine smile and something warm he hadn't felt since-no. No. You're not in love with her. You're not. "Well, let me just grab a few changes of clothes from my room and I'll be out of your way." He went back to his room and pulled out his sleepwear from his drawer. He was about to cross over to the closet to grab his outfit for tomorrow when he spotted the picture of Jonathan, glaring at him, on his nightstand. He paused in front of it, feeling like he'd been caught in the act of something. "I'm not in love with her," he murmured to himself and to Jonathan. "I know how well that ends for me."

Another voice responded in his head, a voice that sounded more like Jonathan that his own. Do you want to love her?

Edward paused, his mind whirling with confusion, guilt, and something else he was afraid to speak the name of. "I don't know."