Chapter Nine – Day Residue

It was cold and dark where she was, the crisp chill of the air brought goose-bumps to her skin. As she began to survey her unfamiliar surrounds a sudden noise caught her off guard, making her jump slightly, her heart now beating out of her chest with fright.

Before she could even turn around his hands were upon her, one now wrapped around her waist, the other lightly brushing the hair away from her neck and face. She released a shuddering breath as she felt the warmth of his body now pressed against her back. It was then that she caught a whiff of his sent, the smell was so familiar to her, the clean subtleness of sandalwood mixed with a hint of vanilla… she'd know that cologne anywhere.

"Dr. Crane?" she asked softly in confusion and she turned herself around in his arms, she was now facing him as their eyes met in the darkness.

He said nothing in return, the shadows and dim lighting of where they were hiding his expression from her completely. Suddenly she was blinded by a burst of white light, once her eyes adjusted to the scolding illumination she noticed his arm was outstretched, his fingers still hovering over the light switch by the room's shut door. She took a quick glance around them, immediately she recognized it as the laboratory in the basement of the asylum where he had taken her before… where they had kissed.

"Why are we here?" she faintly asked, her thoughts still engrossed in the memories of when they were last there, a blush now upon her lightly freckled cheeks.

"Don't you remember, Miss Matthews?" he took a step towards her as he spoke, his hand lazily falling from the light switch down to his side. "You asked me to bring you here."

Her brow was furrowed as she struggled to remember the conversation he was referring to, but her thoughts were somehow hazy.

"Oh, yes… I was asking about the exam table…" she trailed off, turning both her small frame and attention towards the table behind where she now stood.

"That's right, you wanted to know what I used it for…" it was he who trailed off now, their bodies once again so close, his chest pressed to her back.

She reached a hesitant hand out towards the table, her fingers fumbling with the crude leather straps lined in old wool as a sudden shiver ran up her spine.

"Is everything alright?" his soft yet assertive voice filled the eerie silence of the room; she instantly dropped the strap she held as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I.. I was just…" she stuttered nervously, distracted by the feeling of his hand running slowly up the side of her arm towards her shoulder.

"You were just imagining yourself strapped down on it." He said flatly, she whirled around to face him now, a look of utter shock on her face, how could he have known exactly what she had been thinking?

"How did you-" he cut her off before she could finish her sentence, his long index finger now pressed gently against her still parted lips.

"It's okay, Jessica." He told her reassuringly, there was something slightly off about him, and about everything that seemed to be happening in fact.

Slowly he dropped his finger from her lips, her eyes met his in that moment, he then took a step closer to her and she instinctively began to back away from him, their eyes still locked on one another.

Suddenly she felt the hard metal of the exam table pressed against her back, the feeling was so familiar to her, his arms were now outstretched, his hands gripping the table on either side of her body… she was trapped.

"Must we keep playing this game, Jessica?" he implored, his tone low and hushed, she was completely lost by the meaning of his words.

"Game?" she sent him a look of utter confusion as he leaned in closer, then unexpectedly, as if to answer her question, his lips met hers in a soft and gentle kiss.

She was somewhat shocked by his brazen behavior but soon she found herself kissing him back. Their tongues entwined in a seductive dance as the kiss deepened, his hands moving from the gurney to her waist. He lifted her by her hips onto to the table's padded surface; she brought her hands upward, running her fingers through his dark hair as he positioned himself atop her now laying form. She softly brushed her tongue against his in a slow and steady rhythm as he moved his right hand downward, running his fingertips up her bare thigh beneath her knee-length skirt.

"Oh…" she moaned in a gasp as the tips of his fingers teasingly caressed her center through the thin cotton of her panties, causing her to become moist at his touch.

In an instant his hand was beneath her underwear, his skillful fingertips finding their way to the small bundle of nerves at the base of her warm folds, she moaned passionately into his open mouth as he began to stroke her at a quickening pace. She licked at his lips as he withdrew from their kiss, leaning over her as he knelt between her spread legs; he brought his hands to his belt, unfastening it in an instant. He sent her a look of surprise as she brought her shaky hands up to the button of his slacks, flicking the closure open before moving on to drag the zipper of his fly down slowly.

"I knew that you wanted this…" he breathed heavily in response, a satisfied smirk playing on his full lips.

"Y-yes…" she shuttered beneath him, he slid his hands back up her legs once more, only lingering a moment to grasp the top of her panties at her hips and then drag the garment off of her completely.

He was back atop her now, the lower half of his body positioned between her spread legs, his hand disappeared once again between her thighs, this time however he did not touch her, he instead freed himself from the loosened confides of his pants before entering her hot, wet core in one deep and deliberate upward thrust…

She groaned loudly into her pillow as the blaring screech of her alarm clock pulled her from the fantasy of her dream and back to the reality of her bedroom. Once the realization of the dream hit her, Jessica sat upright with a jolt of shock and shame. How could she have dreamed such a thing? She brought a hand to her lips as her wide eyes searched the darkened bedroom for answers, her heart still pounding feverishly in her chest. What did it all mean?

After a somewhat long shower she now sat at her small wooden desk beside her third story window, sipping at her steaming mug of Lady Grey tea. As she thumbed through one of her many psychology text books her mind began to wander back to the inappropriate dream she had had only a few hours prior, what could it have all meant? Freud would suggest that she had some very deep, repressed sexual urges pent up inside, where as Jung would argue that it was all merely her subconscious' way of dealing with all of the time she had been spending with the doctor at the asylum, not to mention last night's little outing at the Plaza… either way she was left feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Jessica chewed idly at her bottom lip before a thought occurred to her, she sat the mug in her hand down before getting up from her seat to grab her purse on the table by her front door, quickly she rummaged through it until she found the desired object, a small brown leather bound notebook. She sat back down at her desk as she flipped through the pages of the book, finding the entry that she was searching for, the accounts of her time spent with the doctor in the basement of Arkham, and most importantly his strange behavior with her. The wheels of mind were now turning in a different direction.

It was yet another thankless Monday morning, Jonathan let out a weary sigh as the familiar sound of tiny footsteps echoed behind him.

"Good morning, Ms. Matthews." He acknowledged almost robotically as he unlocked his office door, it had all become so routine to him now.

"Good morning Dr. Crane." She responded after a long pause, he couldn't help but look back in her direction before allowing her to enter the office before him.

Her gaze was on the floor as she anxiously chewed at her bottom lip, the eerie feeling of his eyes upon her did nothing to quell her nervousness around him.

Interesting, seems she is a bit more apprehensive than usual this morning… I wonder why?

Maybe she has telepathy after all, Jonny boy. The Scarecrow chimed in on his questioning thoughts.

What do you mean?

I mean perhaps she is so awkward around you because she knows that you've been jerking off to the thought of her all weekend long… The Scarecrow was now laughing hysterically.

Jonathan gritted his teeth at this.

Once in the shower while drunk is hardly all weekend. Hespat internally as he sat his briefcase down on the top of his desk.

The Scarecrow just continued to laugh to himself.

"I'm afraid we have a somewhat tedious day of paperwork ahead of us, Ms. Matthews." He began in his usual monotone demeanor while opening his briefcase and taking out everything he would need for the day. "The court has finally released Victor Zsasz to the asylum and we have to make sure that all of the necessary forms have been properly filled out and filed." He finished before finally looking up at his assistant who was now seated on the small couch across the room from him.

Her coat was off and he couldn't help but take in her full appearance, her hair was down for a change and her dark curls fell in waves around her shoulders. His eyes then began to take in the rest of her, including the white lace camisole she wore that was hidden beneath a dusty rose colored cardigan; a small smile crossed his lips as he looked her figure over.

She looks pretty in pink.

He was suddenly hit with the realization of how cliché his thoughts were, pretty in pink… not that what she was wearing would technically be referred to as a pink, the color was far too simple and muted; he thought it fit her personality perfectly.

Could you really be any more pathetic, Jonathan?

The Scarecrow's words instantly snapped him from his fanciful thoughts.

"Let's get to work." He insisted suddenly in her direction as she sent him a confused look from where she sat.

Jessica only nodded politely, choosing to stay as quiet as possible, the less they spoke the less uncomfortable she would feel around him after the dream she had had.

"Here you are, sort these out and give them back to me when they are done." He reached his arm across the desk to her almost dismissively; she quickly crossed the room and retrieved the small stack of files from him before returning to the safety of the couch.

Time passed with agonizing slowness, the awkward silence between them not helping matters at all, the unbeknownst guilt and embarrassment they both felt being the main culprit.

A loud shuffling of papers finally broke through the bleak quiet of the office and Jonathan couldn't help but release a sigh of relief to welcomed sound. He removed his glasses momentarily to rub his weary eyes, when he returned the spectacles to his face he was instantly greeted with the sight of his downcast assistant now at his side.

"Here are the forms you gave me, Dr. Crane." She meekly muttered, leaning over his sitting figure as she placed the paperwork in front of him on his desk.

He couldn't help but let his gaze fall downward as she leaned across him, down to her somewhat visible cleavage tucked away in her modest looking camisole.

Is it just me or is the top she is wearing a bit more on the revealing side today?

He was right, even her cardigan was buttoned lower than her usual style this morning.

And another short skirt as well…

Only you would think to point this out, Jonathan… I mean do we really need another reason for your dick to spring up and hit the bottom of your desk while looking at her? Hmmm?

I'm sorry but she is really- wait, why in the hell am I apologizing to you? He asked with both confusion and frustration to it all, the Scarecrow only laughed manically at this.

"Thank you, Ms. Matthews." He said finally, clearing his throat after speaking, he then began to nervously gather up the paperwork she had placed atop his desk, any little distraction to keep his mind from wandering back to what his assistant was wearing.

At least she's wearing stockings today… His alter just had to have the last line.

Jonathan's gaze traveled back to her as she took her seat on the couch, his eyes then fell to her hips, following the curves of her pleated skirt downward until he was staring at her knees and the plain white nylons she was wearing. Slowly she crossed her legs, causing his breath to hitch in his throat, the sudden sensation making his jaw tighten and his hands tremble, it was then that he lost his grip on the papers he had been holding.

"Damn!" he swore under his breath as half of the paperwork cascaded to the floor between his desk and where his assistant sat, her attention now steadily focused on the task of organizing his files.

He moved from his chair, now crouched on the floor in front of her as he bent down to retrieve the fallen papers. Idly he looked over at her crossed legs, and more importantly over at the small gap that was now visible between her skirt and her thighs, his gaze locked onto the white lace top of her thigh-high stockings and the white garter straps that securely held them in place.

Oh sweet Jesus Christ on a bicycle…

And we have liftoff!

Jonathan rolled his eyes in disdain to the Scarecrow's mocking as he gathered up the remainder of the spilt papers, it took all the self control he had to not reach out and slide his hand up her creamy thigh before returning to his desk.

He sat back down in the leather chair, slowly tilting his head from one side then the other, cracking his neck in an effort to relieve as much tension as discretely possible.

This is going to be a long day.

The echoing sound of screams filled his ears like sweet music; a subtle smirk now graced his lips as he shut the exam room door behind himself as he entered the busy hallway of the asylum.

"Mr. Samuels is having a psychotic episode, please give him 15 milligrams of diazepam and have him taken to a padded cell." Jonathan dictated to the approaching nurse, he straightened his tie before heading down the hall towards the elevators.

The doctor let out a tired sigh as he entered his office, shutting the door behind himself as he did, the only sound to greet him was that of his assistant still shuffling through the paperwork and files he appointed her earlier in the day. He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the couch where she sat before focusing his attention back to her distracted form.

"Miss Matthews, it is very late…" he began to say as her head shot up from her work, her hazel eyes locking instantly with his light blues. "We can finish this tomorrow." His tone was almost kind, his earlier aggravation now eased by the enjoyment of his last session with Mr. Samuels.

"I'm almost finished, Dr. Crane." Came her quiet reply, he only nodded wearily in return as he took his seat behind his desk.

The hour was late, and he was thoroughly exhausted from his long day of work… running an asylum and orchestrating the takeover of an entire city was oh so tiring. At least he was now running ahead of schedule when it came to his work in the basement, with a little help of Falcone's thugs and the incompetents of his asylum of course. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, his thoughts now engrossed in his own victories as he idly tapped his gold fountain pen against the varnished top of his desk.

Jessica made her way across the office towards him, hopefully for what would be the last time of the day, she silently leaned over his sitting figure as she gently placed the final stack of papers on the desk in front of him. His eyes instantly traveled back to their location of earlier in the day, boring into her exposed cleavage beneath the camisole she wore. He simply could not bring himself to look away, the hint of her bra's white lace peaking out, it was calling to him, no screaming… it took every last bit of restraint that he possessed not to reach out and pull her onto his lap.

The sudden change in rhythm and volume of the pen in his hand tapping against the desktop drew her attention, it had gone from a faint ticking to a loud and persistent drumming, she looked up at him at that moment only to find his gaze firmly focused on her chest. Jessica's eyes travelled down towards the area of his interest, she then began to blush madly when the realization struck her, he was staring directly down her shirt.

Jonathan looked up at her face, the bright flustered glow on her cheeks giving her away, he knew perfectly well that he had been caught staring.

"Miss Matthews…" he addressed her finally, his voice low and steady.

"Yes, Dr. Crane?" she answered shakily, unable to look at him for fear of coming completely undone.

May I fuck you on top of my desk?

"Would you like to go to dinner with me?" his voice was calm and direct.

What!?

"What?" she responded slowly, her mind awash with confusion.

"You must be hungry, I mean lunch was nearly seven hours ago." He stood from his desk as she continued to be lost in her own thoughts.

He towered over her now, her eyes still glued to the top of his desk in contemplation, he leaned his face down towards her own , unable to resist the urge…

"Tick tock, Jessica." He teased in her ear, the sound and realization of how close he now was causing her to visibly jump.

"Yes!" she nervously exclaimed, he couldn't help but smile at her uneasiness. "I mean, yes Dr. Crane… I will have dinner with you." She shook her head slightly from side to side, silently scolding herself for acting so foolish.

"Wonderful, where would you like to go?" he asked as he made his way over to the coat rack by the door.

"Do you like sushi?" she responded innocently, he felt the grimace form on his lips before he could even try to fight it.

If this night doesn't end in an orgasm from something other than our right hand I swear to god, Jonathan…

They sat across from each other in awkward silence, nothing separating them but a small ornate wooden table.

"So, tell me about yourself, I know that you drink bourbon, like sushi and used to be a ballerina…" his somewhat playful voice broke through the quietness of the nearly empty sushi restaurant. "What else is there to know about you, Ms. Matthews?" he looked her small seated figure over as he spoke.

"I don't really know what else to tell you, I'm not a very interesting person." she answered him simply, her hands nervously toying with the chopsticks on the table. "What about you?" she suddenly asked him out of nowhere.

"What do you mean?" he sent her a confused stare.

"Well I feel like you know far more about me than I do about you, where did you grow up?" she sent him a sweet smile now, how could he possibly refuse her when she smiled at him like that?

"Arlen, Georgia." He stated calmly, her smile increased now. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I just can't see you as a country boy is all!" she beamed at him, he felt himself beginning to smile slightly as well.

"Welcome to Osaka House, my name is Amy can I get you something to drink?" the unenthused voice of their server interrupted suddenly, her bored stare moving back and forth between them.

"I'll just have water, thank you." Jonathan replied monotone.

"Um... diet coke please." Jessica added as the dark haired waitress scribbled their drink orders down in her book before leaving them alone.

"If it's any consolation, I was born in South Carolina." Jessica told him, renewing their interrupted conversation.

"South Carolina?" he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Yes, Mount Pleasant to be exact." She blushed as the waitress reappeared, placing their drinks on the table before readying her pen for their dinner orders.

"Oh, um… do you have anything vegetarian?" Jonathan asked the less than jovial server who only rolled her eyes at his question.

"They're on the right side on the menu." Amy replied with little interest.

He cleared his throat before looking down at the printed words on the simple piece of paper.

"I'll have the veggie roll and a bowl of miso soup please." He then gave the girl a severe look before handing her his menu.

"You?" the server curtly looked in Jessica's direction.

"I'll have a yum yum roll and the salmon nigiri, please." She answered, the waitress snatched up her menu before turning on her heels and leaving their table.

"I am not tipping her." Jonathan stated flatly once the girl was out of sight, Jessica couldn't help but laugh softly as she took a sip of her diet coke.

They stood at the entrance to her apartment building, the whole situation feeling all too familiar.

"Thank you for dinner." She told him quietly, her eyes downcast as she spoke.

"It is the least I could, what with keeping you so late." He suddenly felt nervous, as if he were back in high school and they were concluding some post date ritual, only this wasn't a date… or was it?

You never had any dates in high school, Jonny boy. The Scarecrow chimed in on his thoughts when suddenly she spoke.

"Dr. Crane, there is something I've been wanting to say to you…" she began nervously, he took a step closer to her then. "I…" she trailed off once more, the words seeming impossible for her to find.

Jonathan gently hooked a finger underneath her chin, brining her face upwards as he lowered his lips to hers in one fluid movement. He was kissing her, she almost couldn't believe what was happening, panic filled her mind but for only an instant before instinct took over and she began to softly kiss him back.

It's about damn time…

He moved his left hand to her back as his right cupped the side of her face, their lips parting as the kiss deepened. She opened her mouth more, allowing his tongue entrance as he pushed her body closer to his in the cold night air, her head now dizzy and her knees weak… she had to hand it to him, the man knew what he was doing.

Finally they broke from the kiss, both breathing heavily as they remained clasped to one another in the darkness. Their eyes met in that moment, hers a sea of uncertainty, his as stern and focused as always.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" he practically whispered the words as he tenderly placed another kiss on her full lips.

So soft…

The things I'm going to do to her…

"This isn't right." She said aloud, more to herself than anyone else.

"What isn't right about it?" he retorted quickly, hurt filling his voice for only a second before his cold demeanor took over defensively.

She was silent then, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she stared blankly at the maroon tie he wore.

"You're right…" he said finally, breaking the harsh silence between them, she looked up at him as the tears began to spill down her flustered cheeks. "This can't work, I shouldn't have even tried." Never once did his voice give away his true feelings, outside he was stone, inside he was sand pouring through a sieve.

"I'm sorry for all of this." She practically sobbed into the void he had caused; all he could do was look her sad figure over emotionlessly.

"Goodnight, Ms. Matthews." He concluded simply before turning his back on her.

It was a long walk to his car, the cold winter wind echoing his own outward appearance… he had become so numb to these little rejections; they meant little to nothing to him now.

She meant something.

And now you know she is just like all the rest. I tried to tell you Jonathan… they're all the same.

He removed the keys from his coat pocket and forcefully opened the car's door, once inside the vehicle he allowed a long held sigh to escape his lips. It had been quite a while since he had felt this way, the last time a woman turned him down he was still in college.

And to think, I thought those days were long gone…

He was then ripped from his own self pity by the loud screech of his cell phone ringing.

"Yes?" he hissed with annoyance into the receiver. "What do you mean he has been arrested, how is that possible?" Jonathan couldn't believe what he was being told, Falcone had just been taken into police custody. "I'm sure he can just buy his way out like he always-" the man on the other end cut him off, the Batman had seen to it that Falcone would stay in jail. "I'll handle this myself." He finished with authority before hanging up the phone.

This night just keeps getting more and more aggravating.

Jessica cried quietly the entire way up to her apartment, her chest feeling as though it would implode in on itself at any given moment. What was she to do? It's not as if she could have invited him into her home… or her bed. As she locked her door behind herself the sudden realization hit her, how would she be able to return to Arkham? How was she going to be able to face Crane ever again?

She let out a deep sob of misery before letting her body slide down to the floor beside her door. She cried freely into the emptiness of her apartment, hoping that her questions would be answered by some unseen force, but nothing came to her except exhaustion.

Maybe things would look differently in the morning... it was the only ray of hope she had left at the moment.

A/n:

A million apologizes cannot express how I feel for letting this story go so long without attention. Between broken computers, sick tarantulas and the immense hours I must now hold down at my job I have been extremely neglectful of my writing… I hope everyone who reads this fic knows how appreciative I am of you all, and I have not given up on writing this story!

Thank you all so much for hanging in there with me, I assure you that there will be more where this came from… how soon it will materialize however I cannot say. Please be patient with me and once again thank you.