September 21st, 2007

"Breaking news today in Gotham City: renowned socialite and close associate of Mayor Sharp, Albert Dodgson, has been arrested on charges that he embezzled a quarter of a million dollars in grant money billionaire Bruce Wayne gave to Arkham Asylum in June. This embezzlement was uncovered and revealed at the Tenth Annual Martha Wayne Foundation Gala by none other than Edward Nigma, celebrated private investigator. Dodgson is a longtime associate of Mayor Quincy Sharp, who was present at the gala where Dodgson was arrested. Mayor Sharp has provided no comment and declined all requests by GCNN for an interview. Commissioner Gordon has also offered no comment, but Mr. Wayne had this to say:"

'I'm deeply grateful to Mr. Nigma for what he discovered. The Martha Wayne Foundation was founded to help those that are less fortunate and the fact that the grant money the foundation gave to Arkham was misused in such a way is appalling. I hope what happened at the gala causes the rest of the Arkham Board to do some soul searching.'

"Mr. Nigma himself sat down for an interview regarding this case with GCNN's Vicki Vale this morning, which will be shown later today on Gotham Insider. This is Summer Gleeson, reporting for GCNN."

Sharp sat in his office desk in City Hall, watching the news coverage unfold throughout the day. He had refused to see any of his staff, Deputy Mayor Jensen, or any of the other media parasites who were eager to carve out their pound of flesh. The only person he had permitted to enter was Professor Strange, who was standing beside him, watching the television with a calculating gaze. All morning long, Sharp had sat in his office, his blood boiling at the humiliation he had been subjected to at Wayne's gala the previous night. When Nigma's interview with Vale began to air, Sharp couldn't hold his feelings back anymore. "All my life," he said in a broken voice. "I have worked to overcome my...affliction. Ever since I came to Gotham City, I have worked with one aim. To save this city from the scum that infects it." He took a doughy finger and pointed it towards Nigma's smug face on the television. "And the media of this same City, that I have worked so hard to save, they give that man, that, that...thing more recognition, more acclaim than they have ever given me! Do they not understand what he is!? He's sick! A monster like the Joker! He's never even had the decency to hide his affliction, not as I have! He revels in it!" Sharp stopped, lowered his finger, and sagged in his chair. "I don't understand it, Hugo," he said in a soft, plaintive voice. "I don't understand it. Why him? What does this city see in him?" What did Penelope see in him? He'd noticed how she'd allowed Nigma near her, how deep in conversation they had seemed to be, how they had disappeared from the ballroom at roughly the same time. He wanted to deny it, but it was becoming clear to him that he was manipulating her, seducing her. And that poor girl was being drawn into his web.

Professor Strange's hand came down on his shoulder, a solid and comforting presence. "The people of Gotham are fickle, Quincy. Fickle and childlike. They want to believe in fairy tales. It is why they cling so strongly to their Batman, why they want to believe that a Rogue can be a good man." Strangle began to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "They need a firm hand to guide them, Quincy. Your hand."

Sharp nodded, his eyelids drooping at the smooth, comforting tone of Strange's voice. "Yes, of course, Hugo. I know that I am this city's savior..." his eyes opened at the sound of Nigma's laughter from the television. He'd made some kind of quip, which had him and Vale laughing. Sharp's eyes focused in on Nigma, on that smug face, that insufferable smirk. He'd always hated Nigma, and that feeling was never stronger than it was now. How he wished he'd killed the man while he lay in his hospital bed two years ago. He had not been in Arkham however, he'd been out of his reach. "What are we going to do about Nigma?"

"Do not concern yourself with Nigma," Strange soothed. "He will be dealt with soon enough. Focus on your initiatives."

Sharp nodded. "Yes, Hugo." Soon, Sharp would be the hero that Gotham City looked to, his legacy would be assured, Penelope would return to him, and Edward Nigma would be gone. He just needed to trust Professor Strange, and all would be well.

Across town, in a meeting room at Wayne Enterprises, Penelope sat between Joan and Bruce as the older woman outlined their group's concerns. Across the table sat the three senior members of the board from the gala, each with a pensive look on their faces. Penelope herself made sure to take the seat directly facing Valenti. Perhaps it was vindictive of her, but she wanted to watch him squirm. He kept his eyes on the table, pointedly refusing to look at her. She counted that as a win. "Those are our chief concerns," she heard Joan finish. "The lack of adequate patient care, the lack of transparency regarding Warden Strange, and the lack of any patient release in the last year."

Patton nodded. "And what is it that you want?"

Joan folded her hands in front of her and spoke in an authoritative tone. "We want all patients to receive regular sessions with their doctors, as well as time outside of their cells."

Jefferson cleared her throat. "There are security concerns, Dr. Leland-"

Penelope took the opportunity to chime in. "With the Rogues and certain other patients, perhaps, but this lockdown is being applied to ALL patients, regardless of the reasons they were admitted to Arkham. That's not conducive to either the patient's recovery or safety. I seem to recall from my time at Arkham that there is a middle ground to be had here."

Valenti looked up, his eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, Patton raised her hand. "We'll look into our options. What else was there?"

Joan spoke again. "Regarding Warden Strange. We understand that there are confidentiality issues concerning patient treatment. Our chief concern is that he has been given too much leeway with how the asylum is run."

"Violent incidents have gone down over 80% since Warden Strange took over," Valenti cut in. His eyes narrowed as they focused on Penelope. "I would have thought that certain of you would appreciate that."

Penelope did not let this display rattle her. "An impressive statistic, until you consider that it came at the cost of patient welfare." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And however impressive his administration capabilities are, that doesn't mean that he should be given a blank check." Penelope let her gaze drift over the other members of the board. "I think we all remember what happened when there was a lack of accountability among the Arkham staff." These same board members who stood back and did nothing to stop Strange had given her carte blanche over Bane. They hadn't learned a damn thing. "I fully accept my culpability in the Arkham Riot, but that doesn't mean I was the only person who made mistakes. That's why we're here today, to prevent those mistakes from being made again."

"Well said," Bruce said, taking the lead. "In light of the issue with how my grant money was misappropriated, I'd like to see a more detailed look at how exactly Strange spent the amount that was allocated to him."

The three Board members exchanged a look. Then Patton deflated. "We'll hold a meeting with Warden Strange about your concerns shortly." Penelope bit her tongue. She could just imagine how Strange would conduct himself.

"Which brings us to our final concern," Joan said, matter-of-factly. "In the two years since the Arkham riot, the only patients released from custody have been Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley."

Valenti smirked and directly spoke to Penelope. "Is that a problem? You seem to have a fondness for Rogues."

To her right, Penelope could detect Bruce narrowing his eyes. "I don't think I like your tone, Mr. Valenti."

Valent shrugged. Patton quickly redirected the conversation. "Patient releases are left at the discretion of Warden Strange. If he feels that the public's safety would be compromised by the release of patients-"

"Again, a reasonable argument to make with the Rogues, but the vast majority of the patients at Arkham are not the Rogues. A substantial portion of patients aren't even violent offenders," Penelope said. "Regardless, Arkham Asylum isn't meant to be a permanent prison. If Warden Strange is as capable a doctor as he and you claim, then why hasn't he deemed any of the low-level patients fit for release?"

There was a long pause as the Board members looked down at the table, or in Valenti's case, glared at her. "That...is another question that we will raise with Warden Strange," Patton said, her voice barely above a whisper. Penelope almost had to pity the older woman. Almost. "We have work to do. Was there anything else?"

Penelope rose from the table along with Bruce and Joan. "I think we've covered all that we wanted to say," Joan said. "We'll be in touch." Patton and Jefferson likewise got out of their seats, leaving Valenti who continued to stare daggers into Penelope.

"Dr. Young," he said, with a harsh emphasis on her title, "I wonder if we could speak alone."

Bruce's face darkened and he looked ready to interject when Penelope raised her hand. "I can spare a few minutes." Joan didn't look pleased either but yielded when Penelope gave her a nod. Patton and Jefferson looked at each other nervously before they vacated the room, Bruce and Joan following them. When the door closed, Penelope sat back down in her seat. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked Valenti.

Valenti smirked. "How long have you and Nigma been fucking?"

Penelope instantly felt her face burn in mortification, but she kept her temper at bay. "I beg your pardon?" she asked harshly.

"Oh, don't be coy," Valenti sneered. "You think people didn't notice how quickly he followed you out when you were off having your tantrum? That both of you were gone for an hour?" Valenti gestured towards the shut office door. "Does Wayne know you were using his home for a little tryst?"

This was what Penelope had feared when she had agreed to go off with Edward, but she couldn't bring herself to regret their time together. "Is there a point to this?"

Valenti leaned forward, looking so smug even Edward himself would be put off. "I wonder, just how would your group react if I told them you were fucking a Rogue? I wonder, how would Jack Ryder react?"

Oh, he was going there, was he? Well, Penelope thought. Two can play that game. She put on a long-suffering sigh. "Let me see if I understand your implication," she said slowly. "As retaliation for our work in holding you and others accountable at Arkham, you intend to tell Jack Ryder, and all of Gotham that I am romantically involved with Edward Nigma?"

Valento chuckled. "Clever girl."

Cleverer than you at least, she thought. "If you had any actual hard proof of this, you wouldn't have felt the need to warn me, which means you're bluffing. Well, I'll call you on it." The smirk was wiped off Valenti's face in an instant. He raised a finger to point at her when she continued. "If you go to Ryder and you're wrong, not only have you opened yourself up to a lawsuit, you'll embarrass Arkham, Strange, and Mayor Sharp even more than they already are thanks to your former colleague. And that's the best-case scenario."

"Best-case scenario?" Valenti repeated dumbly.

Penelope gave him a cold smirk. "If you're right about me being romantically involved with Edward Nigma, how do you think he'll respond to your threatening me?" Valenti's face paled. "You didn't think this through did you?" When Valenti said nothing else, Penelope got back up from her chair. "Before you do anything, Mr. Valenti, you may want to consider if there's anything in your life you'd rather keep off the front pages. Was there anything else?" Valenti looked up at her and shook his head. He was well and truly beaten. Penelope gave him a condescending nod. "Well then, goodbye." She walked out of the office without another word.

Bruce and Joan were waiting for her with identical looks of concern on their faces. "What did he want?" Bruce asked.

Penelope shrugged. "He was just making a jackass of himself. I handled it." Valenti exited the room, still looking ashen. When Penelope made eye contact with him, he scurried towards the building's double doors.

"I'll say you handled it," Bruce said with a chuckle. "Well ladies, I have a meeting I need to get to. See you Wednesday?"

"We'll see you then. Thank you, Bruce," Joan said. Bruce smiled at the pair before he turned and headed towards the elevator. Joan and Penelope walked out of the building. Once they were a distance away from the sea of Wayne Corp employees milling about the building, Joan gave Penelope a pointed look. "Alright. What happened?"

Penelope took a quick look around to make sure that she and Joan weren't being eavesdropped on before she spoke. "Valenti threatened to tell Jack Ryder that Edward and I are involved. I reminded him what would probably happen if he did."

Joan's face colored in indignation, then she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable. Well, I'd say that you handled that as well as you could." She lowered her hand and gave Penelope a serious look. "You know he won't be the only person to make that accusation. Did you talk to Edward last night?"

Penelope rubbed her right elbow. "I tried, but..." She'd been so close to telling him how she felt about him when they together on the bluffs. "I can't imagine a future without you in it...there's a question I want to revisit." So close, but Damian Wayne and her nerves had ruined their best chance. She sighed. "It's going to have to wait until after Strange. I don't think he's ready for that discussion, and if he isn't, then I don't want to push him."

Joan gave her a sad smile. "Penny," she said gently. "It's your decision, and I don't want to tell you what to do, but we don't know how long this business with Strange will take, and a lot can happen between now and then."

"I understand that," Penelope said with a twinge of impatience. "But I think this is the best course of action for now."

Joan slowly nodded. "Alright, as long as you're sure. I'll see you Wednesday."

"Goodbye, Joan." Penelope watched her friend disappear into the crowd before she continued to the parking car her garage was located. Once she had entered the garage, she heard the distinct vibration of her cell phone through her purse. She paused mid-step to pull out her phone and let out a small smile when she saw the number. "Hello, Edward," she answered.

"Hello to you too," he answered with a cheerful voice. "How did it go?"

"Promising," she said, resuming her walk to her car. She thought about telling him about Valenti's threat, but decided against it, lest it prompt a conversation she didn't want to have with him over the phone. "The Board agreed to speak with Strange about his leadership."

"Well, that's something I suppose. I've had a rather marvelous morning myself."

"How did your interview go?"

"Vale was delighted to have me, as always. That's not the only reason I'm in such a good mood though."

"Oh?" Penelope asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I decided to give myself a little treat. Another board member on a silver platter."

Penelope froze just a few feet from her car. "Edward. What have you done?"

Edward laughed. "Nothing too nefarious, I assure you. I'm just seeing to it that a certain Vice-Chair learns the importance of treating his betters with respect. I told you, I won't let any insult against you stand."

Penelope was silent for a moment before she approached her car. "You've started investigating Valenti? Have you found anything?"

"All in good time, my dear doctor. All in good time. This is as much a treat for you as it is for me. I won't spoil the surprise."

Penelope scoffed as she reached for her car key. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Edward laughed again. "Oh, I've missed our banter. Well, people to see, things to do. Are we still on for Friday?"

Penelope let a smile come to her face. She'd missed this too. "Of course."

"Until then." Edward hung up without another word. Penelope put her phone back into her purse and opened her car. Soon, she thought. Soon Strange would be put in check, let go possibly, Sharp and his allies would be neutralized, and she, Joan, Bruce, and the others could begin the work of overhauling Arkham, social services, maybe even Blackgate while they were at it. And then...A softer smile came to her face. There was a future in Gotham for her and Edward, if he was willing to go down that road with her. They could make a good life for themselves, for Ellen, for their friends. It would be difficult, but he was worth it. She just had to see this part with the Board through, then she'd talk to him. Soon.

October 15th, 2007

"Tonight on the Jack Ryder show, things have gone from awkward to downright embarrassing for Mayor Sharp as another long time associate and a key member of the Arkham Board of Directors is caught with his pants down, literally. We've obtained footage of Christopher Valenti coming out of a notoriously seedy nightclub, with a woman, not his wife. Valenti has offered no comment, but sources say that his resignation from the Arkham Board is imminent. This comes as another blow to Mayor Sharp, whose image as a squeaky-clean champion of the law has taken a blow since the behavior of several of his key staff from his Arkham days has come to light. Many of his supporters in Gotham, as well as this reporter, are asking if Sharp knew about this, and if he did, what does that say about his credibility and if he didn't, what does that say about his judgment? Sharp has also come under fire recently by former staff members of Arkham Asylum and local activists for his hardline policies. Looks like his critics have been given that much extra ammunition. Voter support for his anti-crime initiatives, including new restrictions on recently paroled inmates and greater scrutiny in hiring practices for ex-cons, has taken a bit of a tumble since the two Arkham scandals have come to light. Recently, I've interviewed people on the street to get their thoughts, and some of what they said may surprise you.

"...I voted for Sharp because he said he was anti-corruption, but looks like he's just as crooked as everyone else."

"...I really don't think his new plans are necessary. I mean, Riddler went straight and things seem to be ok."

"...I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think at this point, I trust Edward freakin' Nigma more than Mayor Sharp. At least he's honest!"

"Speaking of Edward Nigma, while the footage was delivered to our offices anonymously, given his involvement in exposing the crimes of Albert Dodgson, there's little doubt in this reporter's mind that he was behind the downfall of Valenti. What his motives are, I can't begin to guess, but if I were Mayor Sharp, I'd be taking a very close look at my allies going forward."

Bruce watched the Jack Ryder program intently on the Batcomputer screen. Beside him, he heard Dick let out a snort. "You know, as much trouble as Eddie gave us in the past, we should probably be glad he never pulled stunts like this when he was the Riddler. He could have caused a lot of damage."

No, Edward had been too fixated on challenging him to think about the damage he could inflict on city governance if he ever really wanted to. For better and for worse, he was no Ra's, or Machin. "If it looks like he's about to go too far, I'll intervene." For now, though, he couldn't deny that this was helpful.

Dick hummed. "Sharp must be going out of his mind right now. I'd hate to be one of his staffers."

Bruce steepled his fingers in front of his face. Sharp's reaction would be extreme, but it was Strange he worried about. If Nigma's actions succeeded in pushing the Board to put a leash on Strange, there would be retaliation. He just hoped he'd be able to contain it.

Strange had better things to do than to attend an emergency session of the Arkham Board of Directors, but the events of the evening had left him no choice. The large, circular table located in an office in the Arkham Manor was noticeably missing two members, with Dodgson imprisoned and Valenti occupied with his wife's divorce lawyer. Patton, Jefferson, and the other members of the Board looked visibly shaken, Patton, in particular, looked like she was near tears. Strange scoffed. Fools. Were they so terrified of a jumped-up boy like Nigma? "In light of recent events," Patton said in a voice that was more confident than she looked. "The Board has unanimously decided to cut back on your research funding, Professor Strange."

Strange raised an eyebrow. "I was promised a year of uninterrupted research."

"You've had over ten months," Jefferson interjected. "I'm sorry, but we simply can't give you any more time." The woman flinched, obviously expecting him to react. He did no such thing, instead giving her a solemn nod.

"I understand. Was there anything else?"

Patton gulped, then continued. "We need to start releasing some of the low-level patients. Not all of them, just a few of the least threatening ones, and we need to do it soon."

Strange pretended to consider this. Nigma and Young may think they had thwarted him, but in reality, they had played perfectly into his hands. "Of course. I assume which patients are released will be left to my discretion?"

"Absolutely," Patton said. "Thank you for being so accomodating, Professor."

"Not at all," Strange said magnanimously. "I understand that you've been feeling certain...external pressure. I would like it to be noted on the record, however, that I have misgivings about the releases."

Patton and Jefferson exchanged an uneasy look before they faced him. "Very well," Patton said at last. "So noted."

Strange rose from his seat. "Then ladies and gentlemen, I take my leave. I need to get started on evaluating which of my patients is most suited for release." He left before the Board members gave their approval, as he always did. As he walked down the dark hall towards his office, he allowed himself a smirk. Too little, too late, Nigma. All you have done is sealed your fate. When he approached his office, he noticed the pale figure of one of the medical doctors waiting outside. As soon as he made eye contact, the man hurriedly approached him, carrying a file close to his chest.

"Professor Strange, I've just completed the medical examinations for the Rogues, as you requested."

Strange looked at the man imperiously. "You came to my office this late at night to tell me that?"

The man shook his head, then pulled handed his file over to him. "There's something I think you should see."

Strange narrowed his eyes, then gestured towards his door. The two men walked into his office, Strange shutting the door behind him. In the bright light of his office, Strange opened the file and began to read. It was paperwork for a routine examination of their most...difficult patient. When he began to read the patient's bloodwork, Strange immediately saw what the doctor was getting at. "I see," he said, rubbing his chin. This was most unexpected. "Who else has seen this?"

"No one," the doctor assured him. "I came here as soon as the bloodwork came back."

"Good," Strange said. He closed the file and gave the doctor his most penetrating stare. "Has the patient been made aware of this?"

The doctor gulped. "Not yet, no."

"Keep it that way. I will break the news to him myself. You may leave." The doctor nodded and quickly left the office. Once the door had shut behind him, Strange began to laugh. "It seems your experiment had an unintended consequence, Dr. Young." One that had become his trump card. He just needed the right time to play it.

November 5th, 2007

"In a shocking reversal, voters have overwhelmingly rejected Mayor Sharp's anti-crime initiatives. The measures were defeated by a vote of 62% against, 38% for. Mayor Sharp has come under fire during the last few weeks for the actions of his former associates at Arkham Asylum, which for many voters, has called his integrity into question. Mayor Sharp has also faced increased scrutiny and criticism by former Arkham staff members and local activists for what they call his 'reactionary' approach to combating crime in Gotham City, and several of his last public events leading up to tonight's referendum have been met with protests. Mayor Sharp's approval rating has also dipped from 60% at the beginning of his term, to 50% last week. Mayor Sharp so far has offered no comment on tonight's results, but we expect a statement from his office tomorrow morning. This is Vicki Vale, continuing our special coverage on GCNN."

Ellen pointed at the television and laughed. "Ha! Suck it, Mayor Dipshit!"

"Ellen!" Edward scolded. "Language!" He couldn't help but share the sentiment though. In all the cases he had cracked since beginning his second career, none had brought him as much satisfaction as watching Sharp's agenda being undermined, and knowing it was all thanks to him. Well, he, and the woman who sat next to him on the couch. It had been one of his nights with Ellen, and he'd invited Penelope to watch the returns with him. The three of them had watched the news coverage, Penelope and him on the couch, Ellen in his chair. He laughed and stretched his arms above his head. "Well, that's what he gets for meddling with a certifiable genius like myself."

Beside him, Penelope scoffed, but he could detect that she was relieved by the news. A small, satisfied smile appeared on her face. "Joan, Bruce, Joe and Leslie are going to want to meet tomorrow to go over the next stages of our plan."

Ellen gave her a curious look. "Didn't you guys just win?"

"It's an important step," Penelope clarified. "Sharp and Strange are weakened, but there's still a lot of work ahead to keep the pressure on them, not to mention coming up with our plans for what to do when Strange is removed from his position-"

"All of which can wait until tomorrow," Edward said, getting up from the couch. "Tonight, we celebrate. I think we deserve a drink." He crossed over to his kitchen pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine Oswald had gifted him as well as a bottle of ginger ale. "Wine for me and you, Penny, and ginger ale for Ellen."

"Aww, can't I have a glass of wine too, Dad?" Ellen wheedled. "I helped out with this too, you know!"

More than she would ever know, Edward thought. He looked at both of the women in the living room with fondness. If he'd never met either of them, he wouldn't be in this living room now, celebrating the reversal to Sharp and Strange's fortunes. "You can have alcohol on your twenty-first birthday and not a minute sooner," he scolded, pulling glasses from his cabinet. "Now come get your drinks."

Ellen got up from her chair and pouted. "You're no fun anymore, Old Man." She came into the kitchen anyway, followed closely behind by Penelope.

Edward finished pouring each drink and waited for each woman to take their glass before he raised his own. "Here's to the first, but not the last, victory!"

"Here, here!" Ellen shouted, clinking her glass against his and gulping down her ginger ale. Penelope clinked her glass against Edward's with less force than Ellen, but no less sentiment.

"Thank you for everything," she said softly, her eyes shining with gratitude and another emotion Edward couldn't identify. "We couldn't have done this without you."

Edward smiled softly. "Well, I'll always accept praise, but this is as much your doing as mine, my dear doctor." He took a sip of wine, not taking his eyes off of her as she drank hers. Strange's downfall was coming, sooner than later, and when it did, maybe, maybe...

Ellen's sharp cry shook him off of his train of thought. "Look, someone from the Mayor's office is on!"

Edward turned his attention back to the television to see Deputy Mayor Jensen speaking in front of City Hall. He stifled a laugh. The poor stooge looked like he'd walked face-first into a hurricane. "While we are disappointed by tonight's results, we will stand by the voter's wishes. We look forward to continuing to work with Commissioner Gordon and others to make sure the good people of Gotham feel safe again."

Ellen laughed. "Aw, poor Mayor Buttwipe's probably off crying in his office. Fucking loser!"

Edward opened his mouth to scold her again, only for Penelope to join him. "Ellen," they spoke as one. "Language!"

Ellen just looked at the pair for a moment, then smirked. "You two are starting to sound like my parents."

Edward was sure the flush on Penelope's face matched his own. "Ellen!" he scolded. His daughter just laughed and walked back to his chair. Edward shook his head. Him and Penelope as her parents indeed. Penelope said nothing, but he noticed that the flush on her face hadn't gone away either. Perhaps it was just the wine. Perhaps it was also just the wine, but the thought of the three of them as their own little family...he liked it.

Sharp sat at his desk, once again watching the news coverage, his fists balled up on the desk. Beside him stood Professor Strange, just as he had back in September in the aftermath of that disastrous gala. This time, however, his presence couldn't prevent the rage Sharp felt from bubbling to the surface. "This is all his fault," he seethed. "Nigma did this to me. He's humiliated me for the last time, Hugo. I want him dead. Do you hear me!? I want him dead!" He pounded the top of his desk with his fists hard, then picked up a large paperweight and threw it at the television, destroying the screen. He was about to throw a commemorative plaque across the room when he felt the firm grip of Professor Strange's hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, Quincy," the man said in a strong, authoritative voice. "It is nothing but a minor setback."

Sharp looked up at Professor Strange in disbelief. "A minor setback!?" he sputtered. "He's turning the city against me!"

Strange's grip tightened and his gaze grew dark. "Are you questioning me, Quincy? After everything I've done for you?"

Sharp immediately deflated. "No, not at all, Hugo. It's just so frustrating! Five years ago, the man was setting up death traps for Batman and now people are saying they trust him more than me! What do they see in him? What does he have that I don't!?" Sharp removed his glasses and furiously wiped his eyes. "It's not fair."

"No, it isn't," the Professor soothed, his tone comforting. "Nigma has thumbed his nose at you for too long. I have a plan to have him put back in Arkham for good."

Sharp's mood brightened and he lifted his head, put his glasses back on and looked up at his master. "You do? What?"

Professor Strange seemed to hesitate for a moment, which made Sharp curious. "It concerns the dedication ceremony of the remodeled City Hall at the beginning of next month. There will be an incident. Nigma will take the blame for it, and he'll be locked away in Arkham forever."

It sounded perfect to Sharp. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes. Gotham will finally see him for what he is. She'll finally see him for what he is. They will return to me, and welcome me as their savior."

"I must warn you, however, Quincy, that there will be unavoidable collateral damage. In order for Gotham to truly understand why you are needed, people will have to die."

Sharp wet his lip as he considered this. "If it's for the good of Gotham City, then do what you must, Hugo. Only..." he looked at his master with a plaintive expression. "Spare Penelope. It's not her fault, Nigma is exploiting her."

Professor Strange nodded. "As you wish though certain others in her group may not be as fortunate."

"She will understand," Sharp said, more to himself than to his master. "Once she sees the truth about Nigma, she will understand everything. She'll return to me. She'll forgive me." She would. He would make her see. He would make her understand. Then all would be well.

November 15th, 2007

Nearly a year's worth of planning, experimentation, and manipulation had come down to this last, critical step. Strange considered a dozen men standing in his laboratory, the subjects of his latest round of testing with Tetch's device. He had to hand it to the pathetic wretch, he had outdone himself this time. The circuitry he had developed for his latest mind control devices was so advanced that the subjects would behave as if they were truly under their own power. These twelve men were rank and file patients, trash from the gutter who had committed for various maladies and transgressions. They had no family that would claim them, and no one to advocate for them, save perhaps for Young and her meddlesome group. They had begun his round of experiments strapped down in chairs, screaming, raving, begging for mercy, until he had installed the microchips in their frontal lobes. Now, they were pliant, willing soldiers for his cause. Strange stood in front of them, his hands folded in front of them, like a general inspecting his troops. "Gentlemen," he spoke, his voice resonating off the walls of his office. "In two weeks, you will be released from Arkham Asylum. Upon your release, you will meet with Detective Curtis Schrader and his associates within GCPD. He will give you the necessary tools to carry out your mission. Then, you shall split into six teams of two men and go to designated areas in Gotham City that I will share with you upon your release." He stared into the vacant, dull eyes of one of the men at the front of the group. "Once you arrive at your location, what will you do?"

The man spoke in a clear voice. "We will open fire on any citizens we see."

Strange nodded. "Very good. Two of your teams will be carrying bombs. These bombs will be on a timer. You are to do as much damage as you can before the bombs go off. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," all twelve men spoke in one voice.

Strange grinned widely. "Very good. And when Batman's minions arrive to stop you?"

"We will kill them."

Strange laughed. "Excellent!" He stopped his laughter and focused his gaze laser-sharp on the men. Time for the final, most important question. "And who gave you these orders? Who gave you the bombs? Who told you to target the innocent people of this city?"

The men spoke as one. "Edward Nigma."

Strange smiled again. "Excellent. Now, go back to your cells. I will send for you again when the time is right." The men marched single file out of his office, off to the isolated rooms Strange had put them in after he'd plucked them from the Asylum proper. They were so obedient, they would not require supervision from the security guards. When the last man left, Strange walked behind his desk and opened the middle drawer, pulled out his cellphone, and dialed a number.

"This is Detective Schrader."

"Good evening," Strange spoke. "Have you completed your assignment?"

"Yeah. I've been able to put together both bombs. I've followed Nigma's blueprints exactly. Everyone in GCPD's going to believe he built them."

A satisfied smile came to Strange's face. "Very good."

"I know we're putting one in the basement of the new City Hall. Where do you want the other one?"

Strange considered his options. He had persuaded Sharp to invite Wayne, Young, and the rest of that group to the dedication ceremony. Wayne's minions, while not as prolific as they were before the Commission, still were very much active. From what he had been able to determine, Nightwing spent the majority of his time elsewhere, but when he did come to Gotham he patrolled Downtown and North Gotham. Robin either went with him or remained with his father. Strange rubbed his chin. Despite their estrangement, his Master and his daughter would not permit any harm to befall the boy. Red Robin preferred East Gotham, Batgirl West, Black Bat alternating between the two as needed. Since the Commission, however, they tended to stay close together. There was one neighborhood that none of Wayne's minions would enter. Strange smiled again. "The Narrows," he said. "The only vigilante present is Red Hood, and none of the others will assist him should he find himself in danger." It would potentially rid him of a thorny problem. Multiple ones.

"Got it. What about Nigma?"

"He won't be a problem. He has no reason to go to the dedication ceremony. Have a car at his office and his apartment. When the time is right, pick him up and bring him to GCPD."

Schrader let out a chuckle over the phone. "Half of GCPD's going to want to hang him from that damn tree after the dedication. What about Young and her group?"

"I've already stated what I want to be done with Young. Wayne will live as well." He wanted him alive to see his legacy crumble around him. "Bryant, Leland, and Thompkins, on the other hand, are expendable."

"Got it. I have to get back to work. Was there anything else?"

"I will release our volunteers the day before the dedication ceremony. Be sure that they are given what they need."

"Of course. Call me if you need anything else."

"Good night, Detective Schrader." Strange disconnected the call, put the phone down, then steepled his fingers in front of him. His brow furrowed. His plan seemed foolproof, but Nigma had slipped the net before. It was unlikely, but if he somehow escaped this...Strange needed a failsafe. Wayne no doubt would soon be made aware through Young about the imminent release of the patients, and would no doubt tail them himself or send one of his associates to do so. That was dangerous. Wayne needed to be distracted. Then there was the matter of Kyle and her group. Kyle had interceded on Nigma's behalf before, and her fellow 'Sirens' were wildcards he couldn't afford. They needed to be dealt with, once and for all.

Then an idea came to Strange with perfect clarity. He had the perfect tool to solve all three problems. He reached across his desk and pressed the security button. In less than two minutes a security guard entered the office. "You called, Warden?"

"Yes," Strange answered. He rose to his full height. "I wish to be taken to Extreme Isolation." It was time to play his trump card.

At this time of night, the only people present in the Intensive Treatment Center were the odd orderlies finishing their rounds or security guards on their patrols. Neither dared approach Strange as he walked down the long, dark corridor that led to the entrance of Extreme Isolation. The security guard that accompanied him from Arkham Manor said nothing until they reached the security station that controlled the transport system that connected Extreme Isolation to the rest of the Intensive Treatment Center. "Are you sure you want to do this, Warden? I can come with you-"

"That won't be necessary," Strange interrupted. "I will be perfectly safe." This part of the Asylum was one of the few that had escaped damage during the riot two years earlier. It was built to withstand almost anything, considering the caliber of inmates the chamber held. Only the worst of the worst were locked away here. Since the death of Crane, only one patient currently occupied these cells. The guard reluctantly nodded, then entered a command at the security panel.

'Voice Recognition required for access' a tinny voice sounded from the panel.

"Hugo Strange," Strange answered. At the sound of his voice, a green light appeared on the panel and a mechanical noise sounded in the hallway. Strange and the guard watched as a transport cell slowly entered the hallway. It stopped just a few feet from the panel and the door opened. Strange walked into the transport cell without a look back. "Close," he commanded. The cell door shut and with a whirring noise, the cell began to move backward, across the chasm that cut the Intensive Treatment Center in half. Strange took the opportunity to review the medical file he'd brought with him from his office. The patient must be somewhat aware that his condition was deteriorating. It would explain why he had been quiet since the aftermath of the riot. The transport cell came to an abrupt stop and the door on the opposite side opened. Strange walked into a dark hallway, illuminated by a single light overhead. Six guards were stationed outside of a cell door, armored and heavily armed.

"Good evening, Warden Strange," a guard at the head of the line said.

Strange acknowledged him with a sharp nod. "Is the patient awake?"

"Yes. We're not sure he ever sleeps, Sir."

"Good. You men may stand down. I would like to have a few minutes alone." The guards looked uneasy, but did as Strange commanded, making way for him to approach the cell. Strange raised his hand and pressed his palm up to the security panel on the cell door. Fingerprint analysis completed. Access granted. The cell door unlocked with a loud pop and Strange entered, shutting the door behind him.

The patient sat on the floor awake and alert. He was securely tied in a straightjacket, his feet manacled, his neck chained to the wall behind him. The patient looked up as Strange entered and his blood rep lips stretched into a rictus grin. "Well, well, if it isn't good ol' Hugie! I didn't know we were having a slumber party tonight! So what are we doing tonight? Painting each other's nails? Gossipping about cute boys?" The patient cackled. "Summoning demons?"

Strange regarded the patient with a cold stare. "Good evening, Joker. Unfortunately, this is not a social visit. We have important matters to discuss."

The Joker rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry. "Booooring! I was looking forward to painting my nails, too." The Joker laughed, only for his laugh to be cut off by a coughing fit.

Strange didn't react to the childish display but instead studied his appearance. At first glance, the Joker seemed normal, as normal as he could be, given the inhuman whiteness of his skin, the green hair and his blood-red lips. On closer inspection, however, Strange could detect a faint rash forming on the base of his neck and across his face. He also could see that the Joker, while in seemingly high-spirits, looked tired. Rundown. Strange pulled out his medical file. "I'm sure that you're aware that you haven't been in the best of health as of late."

The Joker's grin faded. If he weren't shackled, Strange might have been concerned for his safety. As it was, he was careful to keep a distance between them. "So I've had a bit of a cold lately. So what?"

"It's more than that, I'm afraid. I have the results of your latest medical examination. Your escapade with Dr. Young's TITAN formula gave you blood poisoning. It is, as of now, incurable." Strange watched as Joker's eyes widened in shock and every emotion from disbelief, to fear, to rage passed over his ghost-white face. The Joker finally narrowed his eyes.

"I should have known good Doctor Young would find a way to get the last laugh," he growled. Then he huffed. "Women, am I right? You give them money and test subjects for their experiments, and then they give you blood poisoning! So what, you here to rub it in?"

"On the contrary," Strange said. "I am here to make you an offer. Given the magnitude of what I've told you, I'm sure you have some affairs you'd like to get in order."

Joker sighed. "I would like to see Harley one last time. A man needs a hobby, after all. And Batsy! I can't shuffle off this mortal coil without one last dance!"

"Quite." Strange leaned over. "What if I allowed you to have your fun? What if I arranged for a small vacation?"

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, sounds interesting. What's the catch?"

Stange smiled. "I have a few...errands I'd like you to run. You'd have to return to my custody. And I may require your services in dealing with a common problem that we have. I believe we can arrange a mutually beneficial relationship. What say you?"

The Joker said nothing. Then he grinned. Then he threw his head back and laughed.