"That was bad ass!" I shout as soon as we're a few blocks from the warehouse. I'm running high on adrenaline and am feeling totally invincible. Riddler looks amused.
"I mean, we kicked butt back there." I grin.
"You knocked two men unconscious, and I threatened a man's life. That's a good night out in your mind?" He raises an eyebrow. "Maybe there're some villainous traits in you after all."
"Well, they were bad men." I reason. Riddler doesn't reply, but flags down a cab. We've been driving in silence for a while before I realised we weren't heading back towards the apartment in Amusement Mile.
"Where are we going?" I ask as we turn onto a highway.
"Alberto knows about that apartment. Though I doubt he'll talk, it's still not safe to go back there. We'll go to another of my safe houses, across the bridge."
"The bridge? It's all reconnected to the rest of Gotham then?"
"It was only reopened four months ago, but yes. It's almost returned to how it was before Arkham City was opened by that idiot Mayor." He snarls, face darkening. But butterflies erupt in my stomach. I get to see even more of Gotham?
"Where is the new safe house?" I ask.
"I have several, but we'll go to the apartment in Lacey Towers."
"No way. Like the apartment complex where Roman Sionis used to live?" I gasp.
"Still does, on occasion. He stayed mostly as a statement to Joker, I think. To show he couldn't be scared away."
"I guess that's at least one Rogue we won't have to look out for. Joker, I mean." I say, shrugging.
"Quinn may make up for it though. I hate to admit, but the woman is clever." Riddler answers as we leave the bridge and drive into Coventry. We don't speak again until the cab pulls up outside the apartment building. It looks almost exactly like I remember from Arkham Origins, if a little older.
I follow Riddler out of the cab, and into the foyer, taking in everything I see. Tastefully decorated, with expensive chairs and lounges sitting by huge windows. We enter the elevator and it zooms up to the 15th floor. Riddler opens a door and we walk into the apartment. It's much more modest that the other, and about half the size, but feels more lived in.
"Do you stay here often?" I ask, looking around the open plan apartment.
"As often as is safe. It's central enough to most of my operations, and this building has several tenants similar to Sionis who value their privacy."
"You're being targeted by half of Arkham's inmates, and you choose to stay here? Don't you think we'll be spotted?"
"The perks of keeping a low visual profile. Not everyone can recognize me on sight. Only Sionis would know me, and I know for a fact he is currently in Bludhaven." He says smugly, moving into the kitchen and taking a bottle of wine out of the fridge. He holds up a glass, offering it to me. I nod.
"And only a few will recognize me." I say. "So we're safe here?"
"We should be for a few days," He pours the dark wine into two glasses and hands one to me, gesturing for me to take a seat on the sofa in the middle of the room. "But definitely for tonight." I take the glass from him and take a sip. I don't drink alcohol much, and don't really like wine, but it's surprisingly nice. I sit, looking out the window at the Gotham City skyline illuminated against the night sky and can hear Riddler still rummaging around in the kitchen behind me. I turn as he pulls a box out of the freezer.
"It's not Falcone pizza, but it'll do." He says, slight laughter in his voice.
"I suppose that will work." I smile back. "But you still owe me a real Gotham dinner one night."
"It's a date." He says, looking down at the pizza box cooking instructions. He probably didn't mean it literally, but at the word 'date,' my stomach still does flips. He finishes messing around in the kitchen and joins me on the sofa. I lean back into the chair and stifle a yawn. It's close to 2:00 am, and I'm exhausted. And starving. Riddler notices and looks over at me apologetically.
"I'm sorry your first night back in Gotham wasn't everything you were probably hoping for." He says. I smile at him.
"I don't know, a kidnapping, being followed by the mob, and a showdown in a warehouse? That sounds like a pretty average day in Gotham to me."
"Just wait until tomorrow." He quips. "Do you want a shower?"
"I would love one. And I think I should wash this cut." I say, gesturing to my side.
"Not a bad idea. The bathroom is through the bedroom, over there." He points to a closed door on the other side of the room. I finish the last of my wine and get up, put the glass in the sink, and head for the shower.
The bedroom is nicely decorated, and even has a few personal items. A book on the nightstand, keys and a notebook on top of the dresser, and a jacket neatly draped over the edge of the bed. I walk through to the generously sized bathroom. I pull off my shirt, wincing slightly as my cuts and bruises stretch. I can tell I'm going to be sore tomorrow. I peel away the bandage on my side, and notice that two of the stitches have popped. I sigh and get into the shower, letting the warm water soothe my muscles. I make sure to clean the cuts, and even wash my hair. After using way too much hot water, I finally get out. Carefully towelling off, I apply a fresh bandage to my cut and look over at my jeans and shirt. I don't really want to put the dirty clothes back on. Instead I wrap myself in the towel and sneak back into the bedroom and raid Riddler's closet.
When Riddler calls out that the pizza is ready, I'm dressed in a button up shirt of his that's long enough for modesty's sake, my hair is mostly dry and I'm feeling much better.
"Thank God, I'm starving." I say, coming out of the bedroom.
"Well come and get-" he cuts off, looking at me. "And get it while it's hot." He finishes after a beat. I walk over awkwardly. Maybe it isn't okay that I stole his shirt. Maybe it's his favourite? Either way, I walk over and take a seat on a bar stool in front of the counter and help myself to a slice. Riddler pours out another glass of wine each for us, and grabs a slice himself. We eat in silence for a while, until most of the pizza is gone. I rinse out our now empty wine glasses and throw the empty pizza box in the trash while Riddler finishes his last slice.
"So, still a left side of the bed kind of guy?" I ask with a smile, referring to the first time we had to share a bed, back in a seedy motel a lifetime ago.
"I am." He smiles back, but looks distracted. "But I'm not going to bed. I have some work to do first."
"Oh. Okay. Well, goodnight then." I say, a little disappointed. I make my way to bed, and climb in. I can hear Riddler tapping away on a keyboard out in the other room, and have every intention of waiting up for him, but before I know it, I've fallen asleep.
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I wake up, blinking sleep out of my eyes. I look over at the other side of the bed to see Riddler collapsed on top of the quilt, still in the clothes he was wearing yesterday, looking like he dropped onto the bed and fell asleep. Even in sleep he somehow manages to have a vaguely condescending look on his face.
I carefully get out of the bed, trying not to disturb him. I heard him come in at around 4:00am, so he must be tired still. I tiptoe out of the bedroom and quietly close the door behind me.
I go straight to the kitchen and get a pot of coffee going. I help myself to a cup and walk over to the window, taking in the view. The sun is just coming up over the high buildings, staining the sky reds and pinks. It really is amazing to see. I stare out over the horizon until I finish my coffee.
I rinse out my cup and get to work making breakfast. I figure that would be a nice surprise for Riddler when he gets his ass out of bed. I find all the ingredients for pancakes and start mixing. I have another cup of coffee, cut up some fruit and have just put the first plate of pancakes into the oven to keep warm when I hear the shower turn on. Riddler is awake then.
A sudden, unprecedented homemaker feeling comes over me and I hurry around the kitchen, setting plates and cutlery. By the time Riddler comes out of the bedroom, hair damp, two plates of pancakes sit in front of the stools in the kitchen. There's two cups of fresh coffee steaming next to the plates, and a bowl of fresh fruit. Riddler looks at the food, looks at me, looks at the food and back at me.
"Good morning?" He says, and it comes out like a question. Crap. This is weird.
"Morning. I thought I'd..." I gesture at the table. "Um, hungry?" He nods, and we take our seats. He piles his pancakes with fruit and I slather mine with maple syrup. We eat in silence until both plates are empty and we've gone through two more cups of coffee.
"One could get used to waking up to that." He says, a smile on his face. "What bought that on?"
"How do you know I don't make breakfast like that every morning?" I'm met with an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. "Yeah okay. I just felt like making breakfast. Is that a problem?"
"I'm not complaining." He poured himself another cup of coffee and we moved to the sofa.
"Did you finish what you were working on last night?" I ask. He shrugs.
"Not really, but I did get a solid start." He says cryptically. Something about his tone says that if I ask any further, I won't get any answers.
"What's the plan for today? Send flowers to Scarecrow? Try to mend friendships?" I'm only half joking.
"I thought I'd take you on a tour of Gotham." He sips his coffee.
"Really? That would be awesome!" I enthuse. "But don't you have more important things to be doing today? Like dealing with everyone who wants payback?"
"One day won't hurt. And moving around Gotham will make it more difficult for them to find me. Not that any of them will find me until I want them too." He smirks, his usual attitude coming through. "Is there anywhere you want to see?"
"Um, yes. Only like, a thousand places. Wait, is there anywhere we can't go?" I ask, rubbing his ego a little.
"I can get us in anywhere you want. Like they could keep me out." He scoffs. Perfect. Where to start? There's so much I want to see!
"Honestly, top of my list is the Asylum." I say. "But maybe we should stick to the city."
"I've spent a considerable amount of time breaking out of that facility, and that's the first place you want to go?" He asks, disbelief in his voice and eyebrows raised.
"I'm a fan of the inmates." I wink. "Well, one of them at least."
"I'm sure Jervis Tetch is flattered." He says drolly, so I slap him in the arm. "The Asylum may have to wait; I can't have myself arrested just yet."
"No problem. The Monarch Theatre?"
"Why there?" He asks, looking at me suspiciously.
"No real reason, it's just one of the places I've heard of in Gotham." I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but I'm pretty sure he knows something's up. Still, he doesn't push the issue.
"The theatre it is. Where else?"
"Wayne Enterprises? And the GCPD. Anywhere you'd suggest?" I'd love to see Wayne Manor, but that would raise too many questions.
"No where comes to mind. Any particular reason you chose those places?"
"Yes. But I'm not saying." My tone leaves no room for argument. Riddler isn't pleased, but lets it drop.
"We'll start at the GCPD, and work our way towards the theatre. You should probably get dressed. Trying to keep a low profile, remember?" He smirks, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. I stammer something unintelligible and hurry to the bedroom to get dressed.
It's not like I haven't dated and fooled around with guys before, but it seems different with Riddler somehow. Almost like there's more at stake. At the moment, I think to myself as I put on my jeans, I could still leave. I mean, I'm crazy about the guy. Which is ironic because he's just crazy. But I've lived without him before, and I can do it again. But I feel like if I let this go any further, I'll be too invested to make a clean break to go back home.
I shake my head to clear it. I don't want to be thinking about all this now; I've got a city to explore! I quickly run my fingers through my hair, give it up as a lost cause and throw it up in a pony tail.
"Ready when you are." I say, coming out of the bedroom.
"Give me a moment." He says, breezing past me as I walk over to the kitchen. A moment later he comes out, dressed in fresh clothes. My breath catches, and those butterflies show up again. He looks good. Black dress pants that are perfectly tailored, deep green vest over a white shirt. He's buttoning up his cuffs when he notices me looking. A slow, cocky smile spreads over his face, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking, and he steps towards me, closing the few feet between us.
The air turns thick with tension. Adrenaline shoots through me and I bite my lip, drawing his darkening eyes to my mouth. My stomach clenches, and all thoughts of exploring Gotham fly out of my mind. Judging by the look on Riddler's face, he's not thinking of sightseeing either. I step back but bump into the kitchen counter behind me.
"Edward-" I begin, but I don't get any further. He kisses me furiously, and after half a beat I'm returning the kiss with just as much force. My hands are in his hair and his are lifting me onto the kitchen counter. I wrap my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss, wanting to be even closer to him. He breaks away from my lips and plants kisses down my neck and across my collarbone with such passion I know it's going to leave marks, but right now, I don't care.
"Edward," I breathe, so lost in feeling I'm unable to form a sentence. At the sound of his name a growl comes from low in his throat, and he captures my mouth with his again. A second later he's picking me up and walking. I barely notice, still completely focused on kissing him. Suddenly I'm horizontal, soft mattress under my back. Then he pulls back, ignoring my groan of protest.
"Are you sure you want to?" He asks seriously, looking into my eyes. I pause for a moment to consider my answer. Then in response, I roll over so I'm sitting over him, legs on either side. He looks shocked, and I raise my eyebrow in a poor imitation of the look he gives me. He grins back at me, and I pick up where he left off.
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