Crane seemed to be about to say something, but Amber ran around the car and across the parking lot. She heard splashes behind her, and knew that Crane was pursuing her. She reached the end of the lot, and ran into the road without looking. She didn't see the oncoming truck, and ran out in front of it.

Just before Amber ran out into the middle of the road, Jonathan reached her. He lunged to grab her arm, and pulled her out of the path of the oncoming truck. The truck rushed past and Amber gasped. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it and looked at him with a mixture of amazement, surprise, and fear. He kept his grip on her arm and half walked, half dragged her back to the entrance. Once they were under the large stone awning, he glared at her. "Do not try that again." He said in a deadly quiet tone. Amber sobbed and looked down. He felt a twinge of pity and guilt, but tightened the grip on her arm. She looked up at him with fear, and a tear dripped slowly down her cheek, mingling with the raindrops on her face.

Jonathan nearly hated himself when he saw the tear. He felt so sorry for her, and almost wished that he hadn't stopped her from writing her article. But yet he still persisted with his torment. "Do you understand me Amber?" She nodded quickly and sobbed again. "Come on." He loosened his grip, and tugged at her arm gently. More tears fell from the hazel eyes and Jonathan bit his lip. "Amber…"

"Don't Crane." She said. Her eyes hard and without emotion when she met his. "I just want to go to sleep." He sighed and looked down as he led her to her cell. He knew that she had learned her trick of hiding emotions and behaving coldly from him.

"I'll have you moved to a minimum security cell tomorrow. Do you want your paints, or anything else?" He asked her as they stepped into the elevator.

"My paints and some books." She said softly. He felt another, stronger pang in his stomach.

"Any particular ones—" He started to ask her. She cut him off.

"Stop. I don't want your pity, or you to feel sorry for what you've done. You have had too much time for that already. If you really want to make up for doing this then let me out now. I won't publish my article, and I won't say a word about what you've done. Just let me out" She looked at him with more than a hint of desperation as the elevator reached the seventh floor

"I'll make arrangements for it in morning." Jonathan found that he couldn't look at her when he said this, as he knew that

"Promise me."

They looked up at a crack of thunder, and the elevator stopped abruptly.

"What was that?" She asked him, forgetting the previous topic of discussion at the moment. He looked irritated and looked over at her with slight anxiousness.

"Well, I believe that the power has just gone out in the building." He replied, watching for her reaction. She glared at the elevator, and looked around. After a few moments, she spoke.

"So what now?" She asked. Jonathan looked over at her blankly.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Well you're always acting like such a know-it-all…" She muttered at him. Jonathan noticed that she was following the usual pattern for people who couldn't deal with their emotions and turning all of them into anger.

"What was that? You can stay on that half of the elevator for the time being if you want to call me names." He said, indicating the side that she was on.

"That is so immature. What are you? Eleven?" She scoffed at him. "So where exactly is the boundary of the elevator, hmm? At the buttons?" She indicated the floor selection buttons placed in the center of the elevator's back wall.

"Yes." He refused to acknowledge that she was mocking him. She rolled her eyes.

"So we're stuck in here then? This really sucks." She said in a bored tone. Amber walked over and pressed the buttons on the wall.

"Not that one!" Jonathan said suddenly when her hand hovered over a large white button. She narrowed her eyes and pressed the button considerably harder than she had the others. The lights went out in the elevator.

"What did that one do?"

"That is the emergency battery cutoff. Now we won't be able to get light for another hour." He replied grimly.

"Well why didn't you tell me before?"

"Would you have listened?"

Amber knew that Crane had made a decent point; she wouldn't have listened to him before pressing the button. And now she was stuck in a room with one of her worst enemies in the dark. Scowling at the slightly darker spot of the elevator that she assumed was the space that Crane occupied, and stalked around the small floor space for a few minutes. Crane watched her with boredom until she sank down in one of the corners.

"Can we suffocate in here?" Amber asked him, sitting up.

"I'm not sure." He replied calmly. He could tell that the thought of suffocating scared Amber greatly. He was not so afraid; he knew that there was really no chance of that happening. But it would be interesting to watch her think that she could. "Are you scared of dying, Amber?"

"Aren't you!" He could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Not really."

"I knew the nut was running the nut house." She said. He glared at her profusely and didn't reply. Amber took a small bouncing ball out of her pocket and watched as it glowed a faint green light. She always had it with her, as she was often stuck in waiting rooms when she was assigned to interview some movie star for the gossip column.

"What is that?" Crane asked with curiosity he failed to hide.

"Nothing." She replied lazily. "And you see I can't show you because then I would have to cross over the line."

"You could come over for a bit…"

"I don't really want to." Amber smiled when she felt Crane's frustration. He sighed and she knew that he was watching the ball. Grinning, she decided to find out how many times it would ricochet off the walls before she or Crane caught it. He watched her as she raised the glowing ball up, unaware of her game. Quickly she threw the ball against a wall on what Crane had claimed as his side of the elevator.

She screamed as it flew back at her, and ducked as it hit the wall behind her. Amber laughed as it flew at Crane. He threw himself to the floor to avoid being hit with the rubber ball. It then bounced of this wall and hit the ceiling, where it finally lost enough momentum for him to catch it. Amber laughed as he examined the small glowing object carefully. There was just enough light put off by the green glow for her to see him glaring at her. He looked coldly at her, and then smiled as he put it in his pocket.

"Hey! That's not fair!" She said in a tone that a six-year-old would use when a mother takes away their cookie.

"When have I ever been fair?" He asked her.

"Good point." She scowled into the black darkness. She wanted her ball back, but certainly wasn't going to beg him for it. She sat back against the wall and tried to think of a way out of the elevator. There seemed to be no small window at the top, and she could hear no noises that meant someone was coming to get them. Well, no one knows that we are in here… she thought with dread. She recalled her fears of suffocation again as she sat in the dark, and watched Crane carefully. She came to the conclusion that he would be franticly trying to reach someone on his cell phone if there really was a threat of suffocating. Her thoughts were further confirmed when she heard a small sigh of air somewhere on an upper part of the wall. That definitely meant that there was an air vent somewhere in the elevator. "So… What's Roxi like? And why am I stuck in here with you right now instead of your sister; couldn't she have taken me here instead?"

"Roxanna was not in a proper state of mind tonight." Crane said carefully.

"Something pills will take care of? Has she got a mental problem?"

"No. I would rather not speak of this right now."

"Why? Oh, I get it; she was drunk, right?" Crane remained silent when Amber said this. "She does it often? You're the psychiatrist, can't you fix it."

"Do you think that I haven't tried? Ever since she started, I've been trying and trying…" He said quietly. "Now, I do not wish to talk about this." An uncomfortable silence followed his cold words for about twenty minutes. Amber looked around into the darkness. She couldn't see Crane watching her.

"You know, I've had some experience with this sort of thing." Amber said quietly, breaking the silence. She knew now that Crane was watching her.

"Really? Let's talk about this then, Amber." Crane said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Don't start that now." She said to him venomously. "I'm only trying to offer you some support."

"Start what?" He asked her innocently.

"You know damn well what. Mocking me. You've done it enough so far; stop it." She said, glaring at the shifting piece of darkness in front of her. She felt a twinge of fear when she saw him stand up, but took a deep breath and ignored it when he didn't move further.

"I am not mocking you, Amber. Please, let's talk about this." He said in his physiatrist's tone.

"No. I'm done talking with you for now." She said stubbornly. The lights flickered once, and she could see that his face was devoid of all emotion, but his eyes held the customary coldness. "Let's talk about you." She said, smiling in the cold fashion that she learned from him.

"Amber." He's trying to get me to calm down and shut up. Amber thought with irritation. "Come now, you already know all about me. You've been researching me tirelessly for the past two weeks before your incident."

"And yet I still kept getting the same boring results. You're 26, born in Gotham City, and you went to Gotham University and have a duel major in culinary arts and psychology." Amber ignored his comment about her incident.

"Well, that's about all you could find out about me." Crane said carefully. She detected the slightest hint of worry in his voice.

"I disagree. I seem to be missing a part of the story, Dr. Crane. What happened in Arkham Asylum?"

"I was administrator of it for five years before the Scarecrow released most of my patients into the streets. At this point I decided that it wasn't worth the effort of running it anymore and started new here in New York City." He explained.

"So how are you in touch with the League of Shadows?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are speaking of." He smiled into the dark.

"Playing stupid really doesn't suit you Crane. I bet you're just some lackey and you're ashamed of it."

"Far from a lackey, Ms. Larks." He smirked, knowing that he had just betrayed that he was involved with the League, and not caring.

"Finally! And don't call me that. So if you were so important, what did you do?"

"I believe that is all that I have to say on the topic. Aren't you getting tired yet?" Crane said in a weary tone. As though on cue, the lights flickered again and then stayed on. The elevator started to move again. Amber smiled vaguely at the light bulb, and stepped out gladly when it reached her floor. Crane stepped out behind her, and she paused to allow him to pass her. She knew for certain now that he was capable of doing some really nasty things, and didn't trust him at her back. He obviously ignored her, and led the way to her room.

When they reached the room, Dr. Crane unlocked the door for her and held it open for her. She didn't go inside and he looked at her with suspicion. "I want my glow ball back." Amber said. He smiled coldly at her.

"Why should I give you it?"

"Because it's mine."

"No. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. We can discuss your ball in the morning." He said simply. She smirked at him.

"You could sleep in my bed tonight… I'm sure there's room for both of us if we get really close." She was pleased to see a faint colouring spread across his pale cheeks.

"Absolutely not. Good night Amber." He said while narrowing his eyes at her.

"You know Dr. Crane, I'm kinda thirsty." She said while walking in her cell.

"I'll inform the orderly on duty to get you something to drink."

"Why didn't he come get us out of that elevator!" Amber was shocked to hear that someone sane who was in the building hadn't come to get them when they were stuck.

"How was he supposed to know we were in the elevator at the time?"

"Oh yeah. Getting back to the water." She was smiling sweetly at him. "I like you the best, Dr. Crane! I'm scared of the orderly!" She looked at him with wide eyes. He glared at her.

"I don't care." He looked at her stubbornly. She didn't lose her smile as she looked at him.

"I'll throw a fit." She threatened.

"And I'll have you locked up in that room again." He said.

"Hmm. Do you really think that you can do that before I smash your glasses and rip some buttons off your nice white shirt?" He sighed and looked at her.

"Fine. I need a walk to clear my head anyway." He said simply.

"Did I give you ideas when I offered my bed? For some reason, I'm not very sorry." She smiled as he turned on his heel to hide another blush and slammed the door in his face. Surprising that someone who had to know at least something about what was happening to Gotham City would still blush at her suggestive comments. She knew that she could play this new game she had discovered with him now. Amber wondered slightly why her statements, even when they obviously didn't have any substance to them, would bother him so much.

Amber was interrupted in her thoughts by her door opening and a glass being held out to her. She looked up at Crane thoughtfully, and accepted the plastic cup of water. "Are you going to give me back that ball?"

"No." He said and frowned at the look on her face. She suddenly lifted the cup and before he had a chance to shield his face or turn away, threw it in his face. He wiped it out of his face with his jacket's sleeve, and turned to face her. She was trying not to laugh at the sight of his dark brown hair plastered to his face and falling into his eyes from the water. It was dripping into his face and she couldn't hold back a smile.

Jonathan glared at Amber when he saw the smile. He felt so angry at her that words couldn't describe it. He just wanted to strangle her, right in that spot where she stood. He watched as she walked behind the small wall that shielded her bathroom area from view and returned with the small towel that was given to her to dry her hands with. She held it out to him, still smiling.

So why don't you then? An all too familiar voice told him. It was the same voice that had haunted him ever since his parents had disappeared so long ago: Scarecrow.