Crane watched as the information he had just given her was slowly absorbed, and noted with some amusement the growing shock on her face as she realized just Whom she had rescued during the night. To her credit, he was somewhat surprised she didn't back away as fast as she could, but he noted that her grip tightened on her bat somewhat.

With a dry tone to his voice, he said :"You realize of course, that if I was to attack you, nothing would protect you from me. So I really would put that bat down. Besides, in my current, somewhat incapacited state, I really have no desire to try anything, oh my saviour."

She scowled at him. How dare he threaten her in HER OWN APARTMENT?!

"Where the hell do you get off, threatening me in my own home?! I could have left you for dead out there, but nooooo, I risked my own ass to save your worthless one. Show a bit more damn gratitude."

This it seemed, only caused Crane to widen his smirk.

"So you're a bleeding heart are you? Saved all the little lost puppies and kittens when you were a little girl?"

Hannah howled in frustration.

"Don't you DARE try to psychoanalyze me! I meant what I said- I really could have left you for dead. Maybe I should just call the cops on you now huh? I'm just suuuure they'd come running." She drawled, and again tightened the grip on her bat, to the point that her knuckles turned white. He realized then that perhaps he had pushed a bit too far. He had seen far too many young nurses and doctors at the asylum miss signs like that and (just barely) live to regret it. Though she was not ( at least, he hoped she was not), mentally unsound as those others who exhibited them.

"I doubt that very highly. If you care to look outside, you can see that they are far too busy trying to catch more dangerous men then myself. Would you really stop them from doing so? Besides which, I'm in no hurry to go back to that...place. I've wasted enough years of my life there. I promise you, I'll be on my best behaviour." This seemed to have some effect- the scowl on Hannah's face loosened, and she began to calm down.

"You'd better be. I swear to God, you try anything while you're here, and I mean anything, I'll scream so loudly the cops'll have no choice but to come running." Her tone was still harsh, but lacking the steely edge it had had moments before. He raised his hands, wincing from the bruising along his limbs and torso as he did.

"You have my word. Now, you wouldn't happen to have anything to drink, would you? I inhaled something last night that appears to have left me rather dry."

Hannah turned and disappeared into the kitchen mumbling to herself at this, presumably to try and find something to drink. Crane took the opportunity to rack his brains and to try and work out just why he wasn't as howlingly mad as the rest of those....creatures, for lack of a better word. He surmised that during the early trials of the fear toxin, wherein they'd initially tested the potency of the flower itself, he must have picked up some kind of immunity to long term effcts. Either that, or that Dawes bitch had somehow cleared his system with that wretched taser of hers. He was interrupted from his train of thought by the returning Hannah, who had in her hand a carton of milk.

"Here. This is all that was left in the refridgerator- everything else seems to have turned into some kind of powdery gunk." She handed him the carton and then plopped herself down on the floor, propping her hand up by balancing it on her baseball bat. She watched him as he drank deep from the carton, taking huge gulps whilst a couple of small trails of milk ran down his neck. He wiped his lips and neck delicately with the corner of the blanket he was still sat underneath, before meeting Hannah's eyes with a level and analytical gaze. She found herself starting into his eyes for a fraction of a second too long, before shaking her head vigorously.

"So tell me, just what happened out there last night, and how did you manage to avoid inhaling any of the toxin, Miss...?" He trailed off expectantly.

"Abrams. My friends call me Hannah, but in no way can you. I really don't know what the hell happened last night- everything was pretty calm and then all of a sudden, whoosh! There's rumbling, exploding pipes, and fog everywhere. I guess I was lucky- the pipes in this place are so damn old that they'd closed off or rusted up." She shuddered as she recalled the screaming and the madness she'd heard afterwards. It wasn't exactly something she was in a hurry to remember. At this remark, he frowned. He hadn't expected that. Ra's al Ghul had never stated his intentions, but then, Crane had never truly enquired. He had been happy enough taking the money being offered and funneling it into his experiments. Even so, he had thought that they would try to extract something from the situation. Chaos for chaos' sake was so....unsightly. It wasn;t something he ever wished to face again. He had recollections of what, at first what he'd thought, or perhaps hoped were dreams (rather, nightmares), but were inevitable flashes of the true madness he'd briefly encountered in his mind after the Batman had left his mark. It was ironic and yet somehow fitting that his own toxin, his pride and joy, the thing he had thrown almost everything away for had been the thing to bring him finally to a breaking point. He recalled colours, more intense and vivid then any he had ever seen. A memory of what was almost a blood rush in his mind, as thoughts, feelings and sensations all crashed together, roiling and heaving against the walls of his mind like a turbulentand chaotic oceanic thunderstorm. Perhaps what disturbed him most was how, despite the sobbing laughter and oh so tangible fear that madness has wrought on him had left him a shell of what he was, he'd still enjoyed it...and then he saw briefly the face of Dawes, felt a surge through his body and mind, and remembered the comforting blackness that followed.

Hannah still had her eyes on him whilst he was considering all of this, watching as his eyes first showed surprise, then anger, and then mild disgust. He must have noticed this, because in the next moment, his eyes suddenly became cold and indifferent again.

"Yes, Miss Abrams? He stated this, rather then asking. She felt her cheeks turning red at being caught starting like some adolescent girl.

"I uhhhh....nothing. You looked a little bewildered there for a couple of seconds", she said quickly, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Well, I imagine you would be too, if you woke up in a place you'd never seen before." Crane snapped. Her staring was beginning to wear on him.

"Well excuse me. I'll just stare at a wall shall I?" She snapped back, and for some inexplicable reason, she saw him begin to smile.

For whatever reason, he found that pushing her buttons was extremely entertaining. It was at least, something for him to do until he was well enough to sneak away. Sooner rather then later, he hoped. In the meantime, there was very little to do. He sighed.

"I don't suppose you have anything that I can read whilst I'm stuck here, do you? As...entertaining as it is, I can't simply go on having these petty arguements with you. It just isn't good for the blood pressure you know."

Hannah laughed.

"Yeah, its all on the shelves above you. You'll excuse me if its not to your taste, but then, that doesn't really matter, now does it?"

Crane turned and looked at the shelves above his head, and noticed amongst other things, well thumbed copies of The Count Of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, a collection of stories by Poe and several books of poetry. He raised his brows slightly.

"Classical literature? You surprise me Miss Abrams."

"Huh? Oh right. I get it. I live in the Narrows, so I must be really thick, right?" She took care to emphasize the last words, deliberately lacing them with a sarcastic oafish tone. Crane laughed, a not entirely unpleasant sound- it was low, contained, and somewhat earthy. He supposed that perhaps there were worse places to be. After all, it wasn't like he could move very far in his current state. He had tried, just before she had woken up, and almost fallen face first onto the floor. He had to at least remain for a few days, until the chaos and assumed police presence died down.

"Now, now, I never said that. This is going to be...an amusing few days." His face had regained that superior smirk. Hannah snorted.

"Speak for yourself." And with that, she picked herself up again, and stomped back into the kitchen, attempting to forget the altogether far too smug (and yet somehow bizzarely fascinating) man who would, regrettably, be taking up residence on her couch for the next few days. She groaned internally at the thought. And then stubbed her toe on the corner of her kitchen table. She howled once more, and shot death glares at the table, almost willing it to catch fire under her gaze.

It never rains, but always pours, she thought bitterly.