It was 6:35 by the time Edward pulled up the steep drive that led to Wayne Manor. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows from the manor and sparse trees that dotted the well-manicured lawn. Edward followed another car past the front of Wayne Manor into a driveway off to the side, no doubt used for such occasions. The Gala had only barely begun, but the small lot was beginning to fill. He was glad that he'd arrived early enough to get parking close to the house. He parked his car, unbuckled his seatbelt, pat his waistcoat pocket to ensure that the USB he'd put his evidence against Dodgson on was still there, then took one last, appraising look at himself in his rearview mirror. He smirked. He looked immaculate. He opened his car door and walked up the paved drive towards the open front door, following a handful of finely dressed society people. When he was about to step inside, he paused for a moment and took stock of Wayne Manor. Architecturally, it was similar to most of the older houses in Forest Hills, a brown and tan brick building leaning heavily on Gothic influences, but the two tower-like structures on both sides of the main entrance made the manor take on a more foreboding feeling as if it was more like a fortress than a mansion. Edward felt a sliver of apprehension go down his spine before he shook his head and stepped forward. Places to be, people to see.

Once he stepped inside Wayne Manor and walked the first steps on the marble floor of the main hall, he was immediately struck by the interior decor. Not that it was tacky. It was classy, and rather restrained compared to some of the other places he'd been in courtesy of his clients. Rather, it seemed...outdated. The layout and artwork hung up on the walls and put on display seemed more out of the seventies and eighties. Had Wayne not updated the look of his home since his parents died? Now there was a question he knew better than to ask.

"Mr. Nigma. Welcome to Wayne Manor."

Edward was interrupted in his musings by the approach of a familiar face. Wayne's butler, Alfred Pennyworth, he thought his name was, approached him with his hands folded behind his back. Edward greeted him with a nod of the head. "Evening, Mr. Pennyworth." He noted that the Englishman didn't seem surprised to see him. He internally shrugged. Dodgson had probably spread the word of his attendance to Wayne and his social circle. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all," Pennyworth said in that plummy voice. "Please, follow me to the ballroom. The night's festivities will be on the ground floor. Master Bruce requests that you remain on the ground floor and out of the study, but please, feel free to explore the grounds during the evening." Edward idly nodded along while following Pennyworth down the hall, taking note of the people he saw milling past. There was James Jeter, noted shipping magnate. Veronica Vreeland, a socialite from old family money. Lucius Fox, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Most of the people he saw either didn't look too closely at him or didn't recognize him, apart from Fox, who looked surprised, and Vreeland, who glared. Huh. He didn't recall ever meeting her. Oh well.

Finally, Pennyworth went through an open door to their left, and Edward followed him inside. The ballroom was large, twice as large as Edward's apartment, and well-lit, with a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the room. There were two large refreshment tables set up along the walls on the right and left sides of the room overflowing with platters, small plates, champagne bottles, and hand-cut crystal glasses. Edward let out an appreciative whistle. "Mr. Wayne certainly knows how to throw a party."

"That he does," Pennyworth agreed. He gestured towards the room. "Please, enjoy your night." He then turned on his heel and left, no doubt to go back to the front door.

Edward took a few steps forward took in the room. Maybe two dozen people were milling about the room, with the largest cluster at the back, where a podium was set up. No doubt that was where Wayne was. A piano was set up in the far-right corner, with a man playing a light jazz tune. He could see no sign of Sharp though, which was a relief, or of Penelope, which was a disappointment. Edward made his way to a refreshment table along the left side of the room, to give him a vantage point of the people coming in. When he got to the table and began pouring himself a glass of champagne, he noticed he wasn't alone. A well-dressed young man, in his late teens, if he had to guess, stood by the table. He was relatively short, only two inches taller than Ellen, with black hair about the same length as hers. As soon as Edward finished pouring himself a glass, the young man gave him a friendly nod. Edward nodded back but felt somewhat ill at ease. He knew this boy. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he seemed...familiar.

"You're Edward Nigma, right?" The boy asked.

"I am," Edward answered. "And you are?"

The boy smiled. "Sorry. I'm Timothy Drake-Wayne." He held his right hand out. "Nice to meet you."

Edward felt himself relax a bit and took the boy's hand, giving it a firm shake. "Of course. Bruce Wayne's adopted son, aren't you?" One of them at least. Wayne had...two? Three? No, the third was a biological son. He thought. Wasn't there a daughter too? It was difficult to separate rumor from fact where Bruce Wayne was concerned. He shook his head. "Pleasure."

Drake shook his hand, then withdrew it. He allowed Edward to take a sip of champagne before speaking again. "I don't think I've seen you here before."

"That's because I haven't been here before," Edward said, putting the glass down on the table. "First time for everything, I suppose."

"Well, hope you have a good time," Drake said with a genuine tone. He looked towards the front of the room where the small crowd was gathered and Edward followed his gaze. "Bruce is up greeting guests. He's going to give a few opening remarks in about ten minutes, once more people have arrived, then he's going to make the rounds. I'm sure he'd like to speak with you."

"Well, no need to trouble himself on my account," Edward said. Truth be told, he didn't have much interest in small talk with Wayne, not when there was a Board Member to expose, a Mayor to humiliate, and a partner to impress. He turned back to face Drake and noticed he had a curious look on his face.

"Can I ask you something?"

Edward inwardly sighed. It never failed. Sooner or later at one of these events, someone would ask unwelcome questions about his past. "Yes?"

Drake grinned. "What's the most interesting case you've had as a PI? I'm curious about detective work myself."

Edward blinked for a moment. Then a grin came to his face. "Well, since you asked..."

"He's here, Father."

Bruce had known Edward was there from the moment he'd walked in. Even without a green suit, Bruce would recognize him anywhere. While he was engaging in small talk with Veronica, and a few of his other socialite friends, he'd kept one eye on Edward, relaxing when Tim drew him into a conversation. Damian had spotted him too and was fixing the oblivious man with a steely glare. When Veronica and her group had moved on, Bruce leaned down slightly to speak to Damian. "I'm aware. Tim's handling him."

Damian huffed. "Drake's gossiping with him over champagne. How is that handling him?"

To their left, Cassandra lightly spoke. "He's not doing anything wrong."

"Not yet, Cain," Damian muttered. "It's only a matter of time."

"She's right, Damian," Bruce said firmly. "We're not going to antagonize him over something he hasn't done, or may not do. At any rate, don't approach him. He might recognize you from that incident last Christmas." He turned to Cassandra. "You should avoid him as well. We shouldn't take any chances." Cassandra nodded silently, while Damian huffed again.

"Drake dealt with him in April too."

"Tim's cowl covers more of his face than your masks," Bruce said. That, and Tim was much better at differentiating between his personas than either Damian or Cassandra were. Enough time might have passed that Edward wouldn't recognize Damian, but he would almost certainly recognize Cassandra if he spent more than a moment with her. And if he started deducing identities...that was the last complication they needed now. Bruce watched as more guests began to enter the ballroom, including Commissioner Gordon and Barbara. He watched as Gordon immediately spotted Edward and strode towards him. Bruce thought about moving forward to listen in on their conversation when Alice Winkler-Prince and her husband approached him. Bruce stayed rooted to his spot and fixed a grin on his face. He'd need to make small talk a little while longer.

"Commissioner Gordon!" Edward greeted him as the man approached him. "You're looking well!"

"What are you doing here?" Gordon asked immediately. "I didn't think a charity gala was your scene."

"I was invited, of course," Edward said, taking another sip of champagne. "You're not going to kick me out, are you?"

Gordon sighed and shook his head. "Just behave yourself when the Mayor gets here. That's all I ask."

"I've been the model of perfect behavior since I was released from rehabilitation," he quipped. He put the champagne flute down and reached into his waistcoat pocket. He watched as Gordon tensed, then relaxed as he pulled out the USB. "You may find something of interest in this."

Gordon took the USB and examined it with a raised eyebrow. "What's on it?"

"Financial documents relating to the grant Bruce Wayne donated to Arkham Asylum and the personal accounts of one Albert Dodgson, treasurer of the board. Once you've looked at them, you may want to inform Mr. Wayne of what's on it."

Gordon's eyes widened, then he put the USB in his pocket. He turned around and walked back to his daughter without another word, pushing her wheelchair towards the back end of the room. Edward allowed his eyes to linger on her a moment longer, feeling rare sympathy. What Joker had done to that woman...that was, for his money, the worst thing he had ever done. He didn't know how Gordon kept himself from strangling the clown with his bare hands every time he was taken back into custody. If anything like that ever happened to Ellen...

"Did Bruce hire you to look into his grant?"

Edward turned back to Drake, who had a curious look on his face. "Not exactly," he said. "I'm looking into it for a friend of mine." That much was true, at least. Drake looked like he wanted to say something else when another, familiar voice, reached Edward's ears.

"Nigma!"

Edward wanted to smirk. That would be Mr. Dodgson. Edward saw him, dressed in a basic tux, accompanied by his pretty, overly processed young wife, wearing a short, sequined red dress that even Harley would think was tacky. "Mr. Dodgson," Edward greeted. He gave the wife a polite nod. "Mrs. Dodgson."

Mrs. Dodgson giggled. "Please, call me Tina!" She looked him up and down, devouring him with her eyes in such a blatant way that it made Drake look visibly uncomfortable. "Al," she cooed, twirling a lock of curly brown hair in with her finger. "You didn't say he was so handsome!"

Dodgson laughed. "Yeah, I guess he's not bad-looking when he dresses like a grown man!" Edward felt his fists clench and he calmed himself down with the thought of the USB in Gordon's possession. Dodgson then reached over and slapped him on the back, hard. "We have a few rounds to make, but we'll be back to introduce you to our friends!"

"Are you single?" Mrs. Dodgson asked. "I have a few girlfriends who would love to get your number!" Edward would sooner pull his teeth out with a wrench. Dodgson pulled her away with a strained smile and took her to another group a few feet away. As soon as they were out of his sight, he huffed and picked up his champagne flute, drinking the last of it with one long gulp.

When he put the glass down, he saw Drake looking at him sympathetically. "Does that happen a lot? People talking that way to you?"

Edward shrugged. "GCPD, mostly. Sometimes, my more boorish clients will forget themselves. It's nothing to concern yourself with." Drake's face still looked concerned, genuinely concerned. Edward forced himself to smirk. "Besides, I always find a way to get the last word in. Remember that USB?"

Drake seemed to consider his words, then a grin came to his face. "You've got Dodgson nailed on something." Smart boy. "Nice."

Edward decided he liked this Timothy Drake-Wayne. He was the kind of boy he wouldn't mind Ellen bringing home if Ellen was inclined towards boys. Oh well, perhaps the rumored Wayne daughter was just as bright. He turned his back towards the entryway and began pouring himself another glass of champagne. If he was going to have to suffer the Dodgsons' company, he wanted to be a bit buzzed. He missed the arrival of Dr. Leland, Joe Bryant, as well as another member of their group, but she noticed him. He had just finished refilling his glass when he heard her voice. "Edward?"

Penelope. Instantly, his mood improved. He turned to face her, his trademark greeting prepared. Then he saw her, and the words died on his lips. Penelope stood before him surprise etched on her face. At least he thought it was her. She wore a long, dark blue dress that had a lace bodice and long, lace sleeves. It was simple and less expensive than some of the other dresses he'd seen that evening, but the color made the ice blue of her eyes pop. Her hair was down and wavy, perfectly framing her oval face. For a long moment, Edward forgot how to speak. She'd always been a pretty woman, but when had she become heart-stoppingly gorgeous?

"Edward," she asked again. "What are you doing here?"

I think I'm standing in front of Helen of Troy, he wanted to say. He quickly cleared his throat. "I was invited," he said. "Mr. Dodgson was so grateful for my assistance that he gave me a ticket." He looked to his left only to see that Drake had left, giving the two of them a measure of privacy. Edward knew he liked that boy.

Penelope looked skeptical. "He did? And you took it? Why?" Then her eyes widened in realization. "You found something, didn't you? What?"

Edward was about to tell her everything when a flurry of activity by the door caught their attention. Four men in dark suits had entered, and behind them, Mayor Sharp. The Mayor walked further into the room, examining it with his beady blue eyes. Then he looked in the direction of Edward and Penelope, and his reaction was immediate. "You!" he shouted, drawing the attention of several other people. "What are you doing here!?"

Edward stepped forward, making sure Penelope was behind him and out of range of whatever Sharp might pull. He looked to the blustering, red-face Mayor and his entourage, and steeled himself. This was the first time since the Arkham Memorial last year that he and Sharp had come face to face. He put on a big grin and bowed low. "Good evening, Mayor!" he chirped. "It's been a long time."

"Not nearly long enough," the Mayor growled. "How did you get in here? If you're gate-crashing-"

"I invited him actually," Dodgson interrupted, walking away from his group to greet Sharp. "I hired him to...look into some business dealings for me, Quincy." Dodgson put a hand on Sharp's shoulder and laughed. "I promise, he's housebroken."

Sharp's face resumed it's normal, pale coloration, but his eyes remained steely. "See that you are, Nigma," he said dismissively. "Or I won't hesitate to have you thrown out in the gutter!" Sharp and his bodyguards followed Dodgson towards the back of the room, followed closely by three middle-aged people Edward recognized as the other senior members of the Arkham Board. Edward rose and went back to Penelope's side by the refreshment table. She'd watched the entire exchange with an almost stricken look on her face, only to relax when Edward returned to her. "Well," he said. "That could have gone worse."

Penelope shook her head. "That was too close." She looked at him, concern in her eyes. It was more emotion than she'd shown him for weeks. "Edward, be careful. You know the Mayor has it out for you."

"I'm well aware," he answered. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take." He watched as Sharp and the Board members chose a spot by the piano to settle and begin to conduct a deep conversation amongst themselves. Edward smirked. What a united front they appeared to be. By the end of the evening, they'd be shattered.

"You're going to expose Dodgson here, aren't you? That's why you came."

Edward turned back to Penelope and saw that her arms were folded across her chest and the look on her face told him that she'd tolerate no nonsense. "What better place to do so?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"I knew it. Will you at least tell me what you found?" As she spoke, the crowd, which now had to number at least a hundred, hushed. They looked to the back of the room, where Wayne was finally standing at the podium. A microphone had been set up for him, and he began to speak.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming to the 10th Annual Martha Wayne Foundation Gala. My mother always impressed on me the importance of looking after those less fortunate than us. Her values...

As Wayne spoke, Edward leaned down to whisper into Penelope's ear. "Dodgson's corrupt. He skimmed $250,000 from the grant dear Bruce gave the Asylum this year. I'd bet my hat this isn't the first time, either."

Penelope's eyes flashed fire, and Edward thought her even lovelier, if possible. "That son of a bitch," she hissed. "All the while patients services have been cut back! Have you told Bruce?"

"I gave a USB with the pertinent information on it to Gordon when he came in," Edward answered. "One of his children knows now though. Timothy. I'm sure he'll inform his father."

Penelope slowly nodded, then turned her attention to where Sharp and the Board members were. "I know I can't let on that I know about it," she murmured. "But that will make mine and Joan's conversation with the Board very interesting."

"Oh, to be a fly on that wall," Edward said. He thought he saw, briefly, a smile on Penelope's face, but it faded as soon as it appeared. He frowned. It seemed if he wanted the woman he knew before the incident with Bane back, he'd have to try harder. Wayne's speech ended, and the room erupted into applause. Edward idly clapped along. As the noise level in the room rose, he turned his attention back to Penelope.

"What?" she asked.

Edward shrugged again. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before."

Penelope rolled her eyes, though her cheeks looked a little pink. "Well, it's not as if I can wear slacks at a charity gala."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining," Edward said. "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"No, thank you," Penelope answered. "I'd rather not be compromised when I talk to the board."

Stubborn, no-nonsense woman. It irritated him as much as it delighted him at times. Right, you're not in love with her. If you're sending me this many mixed signals, her head must be spinning. Edward narrowed his eyes when he thought back to Selina's words to him earlier that week. He wasn't in love with her. He just...he just didn't like this wall between them. "Are you angry with me?" he asked.

Penelope looked up at him with a start. "What?"

"Are you angry with me?" he repeated. He'd only had one glass, but it was beginning to loosen his tongue.

Penelope's eyes widened as if she'd realized something, then she quickly shook her head. "No, of course not." She sighed. "I've been cold," she said. "I'm sorry. It's nothing against you, I promise. I just..." Edward noticed that she was absently-mindedly twisting her fingers together. "I've had a lot on my mind lately."

Edward furrowed his brow. "Is it something I can help with?"

Penelope shut her eyes for a second and Edward was afraid he'd crossed a line. Then she opened them and shook her head again. "I'm working through it. I'll be alright."

He frowned again. "Penny," he started, then he stopped. What was he going to say? What had he wanted to say? Penelope was looking expectantly, He wet his lower lip. "I-"

"Nigma!"

Edward bit back a curse. Dodgson and his wife had returned, and his wife had brought company. Three other women, just as young and plastic as she was. Mrs. Dodgson stepped forward, grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. "Come here, Eddie! I brought those friends I told you about!"

Oh good Lord. In an instant, the three women crowded among him, the boldest one, a red-head in a tight-fitting silver dress, traced her fingers up his chest. "Tina!" she squealed. "Where did you find him? He's so adorable!"

Edward felt his face flush despite himself and laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you say that to all the geniuses you meet."

"I love your eyes," another woman said, a blond with a pixie-cut said. "I love green eyes on a man."

Edward looked to Penelope for help, only to see that she had a cold, blank look on her face. "I have people to speak to," she said sharply. "I'll just leave you to it." She pushed past the small group and walked away, no doubt in search of her friends.

"Wait, Penny," Edward tried to call out, only for Dodgson to slap him on the back again.

"Come on Nigma, plenty of other fish in the sea. Quincy and a few other friends are waiting for us."

Edward swallowed his irritation. Time to dazzle the crowds.

After he'd given his remarks, Bruce stepped off to a corner of the room, where Tim, Cassandra, and Damian were waiting for him. "Well?" he asked Tim.

"He gave a USB to Gordon," Tim said. "It's just like you thought. He's uncovered Dodgson's fraud."

Bruce nodded. "Alright. Keep an eye on him. If it looks like he and Sharp are about to get into it, distract them." Tim nodded and went back into the crowd. Bruce turned to Cassandra and Damian. "Cass, keep close. Be prepared to help Tim. Damian, go with her." Cassandra and Damian followed Tim into the middle of the room. Bruce then scanned the room, settling on where he'd last seen Edward standing. He was still there, and Dr. Young was with him. The two of them seemed to be in deep conversation with each other, and Edward was leaning in close to her. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Too close. He wasn't doing a good job disguising his interest in her. Bruce looked to the spot by the piano where he'd last seen Sharp and the Arkham Board. They were still there, the Board members in conversation with each other, and Sharp staring back towards the refreshment table where Edward and Dr. Young were speaking. Bruce began to walk towards the group, only to spot Dodgson's wife and three other women approach the group. Dodgson joined them and the small group walked to the refreshment table. Bruce watched the scene between Edward and the women with a bit of sympathy and a bit of amusement. Bruce snapped his gaze back to Sharp and the Board and realized that the Mayor had moved on to another group, followed closely by Cassandra. There was an opening for him and the rest of their group. He saw Dr. Young join Leslie, Dr. Leland, and Joe Bryant in the middle of the room and walked quickly towards them.

"Bruce," Leslie said in greeting. "You've outdone yourself once again."

"Thanks, Leslie," he smiled. Dr. Leland and Bryant smiled in greeting, while Dr. Young gave him a nod. Bruce hooked his thumb. "We have an opening. Shall we?"

"Yes," Dr. Young said decisively. She walked decisively forwards, pointedly not looking back at Edward and his new fan club.

Once he'd made his way out of the grasp of Mrs. Dodgson's friends, Edward found himself at ease. He always was at his best when he had an audience to play off of. He was in the middle of regaling Dodgson's friends with his tale of his first encounter with Victor Goodman and enjoying seeing Sharp squirm when Dodgson interrupted for the third time in two minutes. "So wait, was this before or after you got your skull bashed in?"

Edward took a sharp breath. "Before," he said. "As I stated, I faced off against Goodman twice. This was the first time."

Dodgson idly nodded. "Right, right." He cocked his head. "How'd that happen, anyway? You getting your skull caved in?"

Edward didn't remember the event in any detail. He'd been told by Oswald that he'd joined in with a group of other Supervillains in some attack in Metropolis, that a hero called Shining Knight had mistaken him for a Rogue with powers and smashed him over the head with his mace. Sometimes, in his dreams, he remembered something large and metallic hitting him, his head exploding, the world around him turning blood red, Wayne grabbing hold of him, screaming for a medic-wait. Wayne? That wasn't right. Edward realized that his hands were trembling and he clenched his fists tight. Not here. Not in front of them. He fixed a smile to his face. "I'm afraid I can't recall. Anyway, back to my story-"

Dodgson snorted. "What, is that real? The whole 'amnesia' thing? You had to get your head plated back together and all you got was amnesia?"

"I've wondered that as well," Sharp said. He gave Edward a vindictive sneer. "From what I heard, you should have died. Quite miraculous that you only got amnesia."

Only amnesia? Right. Six months in a rehabilitation center relearning the names and faces of everyone who had ever wanted you dead. Being lost whenever Nina and Deirdre referred a past caper they'd been on that he couldn't remember. Waking up alone in his bed reaching out for a lover who had died in agony and barely remembering what it had felt like to kiss him. Just a walk in the park. "It's all true. You can ask Dr. Leland yourself." Dodgson shrugged and Sharp stayed silent, but he still glared at Edward. Edward shrugged it off and continued his tale. "Anyway, I knocked Batman out to trick Goodman into thinking that I was on his side."

"And did he fall for it?" Mrs. Dodgson's red-haired friend asked.

Edward smirked. Sharp and Dodgson's idiocy aside, he had this crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. "He did indeed! Now I was in the perfect position to rescue Ms. Carson, but as it turned out, she was in love with Goodman!"

"Yes, you missed that part the second time Goodman and Carson started killing people," Sharp muttered.

Edward felt his eyebrow twitch. "Well, further proof of my amnesia, I'd say," he quipped, and the rest of the group burst out laughing. Two-nil, Mayor Moron. "So Ms. Carson attempted to kill me, and Batman foiled her, all according to my plan."

Mrs. Dodgson and her friends giggled, while Dodgson waved someone over. "Veronica! Come here and meet Nigma!"

Veronica Vreeland joined the group and looked at Edward with pursed lips. "We've already met," she said acidly.

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Have we?"

"Oh yes," Vreeland seethed. She jabbed at his chest with a manicured red nail. "We met at a gala just like this one at my home, where your henchgirls held my guests at gunpoint while you helped yourself to my family jewels!"

Edward couldn't help himself at that point. "Well, at least I made the evening memorable for you!" Vreeland's face twisted and she made a disgusted noise before she turned on her heel and stalked off to another group of socialites. Edward rolled his eyes and let his eyes wander to where Penelope was with her group and the rest of the Arkham board. He hoped she was having more fun than he was.

Penelope wasn't one for social events like galas. She was more comfortable in smaller groups, or at conferences where she could talk about her interests with like-minded people. She had little to nothing in common with the social crowd at this gala, and making mindless small talk with them was something she dreaded. She'd been surprised to see Edward here, but strangely, she was happier to see him than she thought she would be. She worried about him running into Sharp, of course, but there was a part of her that was glad that she wouldn't have to go through this alone. Or at least, she was until that gaggle of high-society girls had dragged him off. She put it out of mind. She needed to focus. She was standing next to Joan and Bruce, as they asked questions. Patton silenced them with a raised hand. "Bruce, I can assure you that your grant money has been put to good use. The recreation room's never looked better, and our medical center has state of the art equipment."

"That doesn't mean much when patients can't access it," Penelope bluntly stated. Bruce and Joan were more diplomatic, but sometimes she needed to be a sledgehammer. "We've heard reports that patients time outside of their cells is heavily restricted-"

"As a security precaution, nothing more," Valenti interrupted her with a honeyed tone. "It's nothing to concern yourself with, Miss Young."

Penelope bristled. He's always been the most condescending board member, even back when she was at Arkham. "Dr. Young, Mr. Valenti. I resigned from my position, not from my degree."

Valenti's hazel eyes darkened, but Bruce stepped in. "I was there for the remodeling, but I don't think that's where all the money went. Didn't a good portion of it go towards research? I'd like to hear about that if you don't mind."

Penelope watched as the board members stiffened. Either they and Sharp didn't know about Dodgson's embezzlement, which made them fools, or they did know, which made them corrupt as he was. Their answers would help her determine which was the case. "I'm sorry Bruce, but you know we can't go into too much detail about that. Confidentiality concerns and all that," Valenti said. He directed his gaze back to her. "I'm sure you remember, Dr. Young, former head of research you were."

Deflection. "I remember," she answered. "I also remember that Arkham's operating budget is a matter of public record."

The board members exchanged an uneasy glance, and Penelope knew. Just how much money that had supposed to go towards the upkeep of the asylum had they misappropriated over the years? How much misery had they caused through their greed? "A significant amount was earmarked by Warden Strange to go towards his research," Jefferson said sheepishly.

"His research?" Joan asked. "I'm surprised he has the time, considering he's the warden. Is there no official head of research?"

"Not at this time, no," Patton explained. "But Warden Strange can more than fill both positions. He's a brilliant doctor."

"Isn't that concerning," Penelope asked, "All that power given to one person?"

"Only if given to the wrong person," Valenti said. He smirked at her. "Strange is the right person. He's not susceptible to being unduly influenced by a patient."

Penelope's hackles rose. "How dare you-"

Valenti interrupted her. "I get it, really. You made a mistake, you got a hundred people killed, and now you feel like you need to go on a crusade. I can assure you, Dr. Young, Arkham Asylum is a better place now that you're not there." Valenti chuckled and strode past her, towards the refreshment table set up on the right side of the room. Patton and Jefferson to their credit looked appalled by Valenti's remarks but said nothing to her.

"There are other concerns we'd like to address," she heard Joan say, "Regarding the lack of releases, the lack of transparency,"

"I don't think this is the time or place to go into that," Patton said with finality. "Excuse us." The two women left, leaving Penelope and her group. Penelope could feel her face burn with indignation, and almost started when she felt Joan's hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" her friend asked.

Penelope stepped away. "Excuse me," she said. "I need fresh air." She walked towards a glass door that led to an outdoor balcony, ignoring the concerned looks behind her.

"Jesus Christ," Edward muttered, back at his spot at the left refreshment table for his third glass of champagne. And people thought he was irritating. He had nothing on these over-privileged, moronic parasites. He downed the drink in one gulp, ignoring the burn, and wishing Wayne included whiskey. He let his eyes wander to the small plates of food set out. Shrimp cocktail, caviar...nothing Ellen would like. Those raspberry cream puffs looked promising, however.

"There you are."

Edward looked behind him to see Dr. Leland, concern in her brown eyes. "Dr. Leland. Pleasure. You're not here to tell me that I shouldn't be here, are you?"

Dr. Leland shook her head. "Penelope told me what you're up to. And frankly, after what just happened, I'm in favor of it."

Edward furrowed his brow. "What happened?" He looked back to where he'd seen Penelope earlier, only to find no trace of her. "Where's Penelope?"

"We were speaking to the Arkham board, and Valenti was cruel to her," Dr. Leland said. She pointed towards a glass door in the far left corner of the room. "She went out to get some fresh air. She was very upset." Dr. Leland looked back at Edward. "I think you should talk to her."

Edward didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed a second glass of champagne, filled it and his glass and made his way towards the glass door. In his haste, he failed to notice a slim, dark-haired girl in a black dress following him, quiet as a mouse.

Penelope was thankful that no one else was on the balcony when she stepped out. It faced northwards, overlooking the green lawn. The sun had almost set completely, leaving only a faint light at the edge of the sky. A cool fall breeze was blowing, but Penelope could find no comfort in that. Valenti's words still rang in her eyes, as did the silence of the other board members. She shouldn't have been surprised, with all that she and Edward had uncovered, with all that she remembered, but to be faced with the sheer indifference of the board, of the people who should have been a check on Strange...it was disheartening. She heard the glass door behind her open and shut and she braced herself.

"You know, for being at a glitzy party in a mansion, neither of us seem to be having much fun. What a shame."

Penelope whipped her head around and the familiar voice and saw Edward approach her, holding two glasses of champagne. He joined her at the railing and handed her a glass. "For you, my dear doctor."

Penelope took it without a word and drank. With everything else going on, seeing him and being reminded of her feelings for him should be the last thing she should want, but now that he was here, there was no one else she wanted more. "You escaped your admirers I see."

Edward huffed. "And not a moment too soon! I didn't come here to be gawked at like a prize stud!"

Penelope nodded absently. "Did Joan tell you what happened?"

"She did," Edward said, and Penelope could see a cruel smirk form. "And Valenti and all the others will get what's coming to them by the end of the night, I promise." He looked down at her and his gaze softened. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing I haven't heard before," Penelope said, finishing her drink and putting the empty glass on top of the railing.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't answer my question."

Penelope sighed. "No," she said in a small voice. "I'm not. I'm furious." Edward said nothing but gestured for her to go on. Penelope did so, unleashing a dam. "They have no accountability. No sense of responsibility to the institution or the patients. They cede everything to Strange and give him a blank check because they're terrified of the Rogues and want someone else to fix the problem for them, no matter what he does or who he hurts." She let out a choked sigh. "How can they sit on the board and not care?"

Edward shrugged. "Well, they're the cream of the crop. Scions of the highest of high society. They grew up on silver spoons and live off of inherited wealth." He chuckled. "You know. Morons." Penelope laughed despite herself. She watched Edward's smirk turn into a genuine smile, the smile she fell in love with. "I've missed that. Hearing you laugh."

Another wave of guilt went through her. She hadn't stopped to consider that in putting up a boundary, she was hurting Edward. That was the last thing she'd ever wanted. "Thank you for that," she said. She looked back towards the shut door and sighed. "We should go back in."

Edward looked like he was about to walk forward and open the door for her, but he stopped. "Why?"

"Why?" Penelope repeated, confused. "Edward, we things to do here."

"They can wait," he insisted. He finished his champagne, put the glass down next to hers, rubbed his chin, then he snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Run away with me."

For a moment, Penelope almost couldn't breathe. "W-what?"

"We don't have to stay in the ballroom with those snots. Pennyworth said we were free to explore the grounds. I need a break, and you do too. Just for an hour, no Sharp, no Strange, no Arkham, no Dodgson, none of it. Just us. Just for an hour."

There was nothing she wanted more, but-"Edward, we can't. People will notice we're gone-"

"Those idiots would miss a train coming through the mansion. It's getting dark, and there's no one out here but us." He walked to the steps leading off the balcony and onto the lawn. He walked down the steps, then turned around and held his hand out to her. "Just an hour. Please?"

Penelope hesitated. She should say no, she should go back inside, she should pretend this hadn't happened, she should-the Hell with what she should do. What did she want to do? She stepped forward and took his hand. "Just one hour."

Edward's grin could light up Gotham City. He helped her down the steps, then let go of her hand. "Follow me."

At some point, Tim had lost track of Edward. He finished walking the length of the ballroom when he saw Cassandra standing by the glass door that led out to the balcony. She looked like she was eavesdropping on something. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Cassandra raised a finger to her lips. "Nigma and that doctor."

Tim moved in closer and looked through the glass. Sure enough, Edward was there, speaking with Dr. Young. He felt his face blush and looked down at his feet. He felt a little like a voyeur. "Should I go outside?"

"No," Cass insisted. "They're cute."

Tim blushed more. He looked back up and watched as Edward walked towards the left exit of the balcony, then beckon Dr. Young down with an outstretched hand. After a moment's hesitation, Dr. Young followed him. Tim shook his head, sad that Steph wasn't here. Her antipathy towards Nigma aside, she would have thought this was cute too.

"Ahem," a pompous sounding voice sounded behind them. They both turned to see Mayor Sharp's pompous face. "Excuse me," he said. "Have either of you seen a Dr. Young?"

"No, Mayor, Sorry," Tim answered.

"Ah," the Mayor nodded. Then his face darkened. "Have either of you seen Edward Nigma?"

Cass answered before Tim could. "Who's Edward Nigma?"

Mayor Sharp looked bug-eyed at her for a moment before he turned around and headed back to the party. Tim looked at her askance. "'Who's Edward Nigma?' Really?"

Cass just shrugged. "It worked."