"It can't get you." Crane told her in a soothing tone.

"Promise?" She still looked slightly nervous.

"I promise that it can't hurt you." This should all be cleared up in the morning. I only gave her a small, weak dose of the toxin. I doubt that she can see the major hallucinations now. He thought as she crawled underneath the covers. He was getting rather tired himself, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Are you going to stay there to make sure the spider-thing doesn't come back?" Amber asked him. He nodded while the physiatrist part of his brain told him that she was probably arachnophobic if the hallucination she was so worried about appeared to look like a spider. He got up from the corner of Amber's bed and set his glasses on her bedside table and hung his blazer on the doorknob. Crane smiled at the effect that this gave the room; it almost seemed like he could have belonged here. How far from the truth that is… He thought as he sat back down on the corner of the bed.

The sane part of Amber's mind was screaming at her. Not only were there demonic things that were probably hiding in her room at this very moment, but she had her kidnapper and would-be-murderer sitting on the edge of her bed, supposedly keeping the monsters away. On top of all this, she had clung to him while that spider was walking around. He had made them go away for the most part though. There was still the occasional glaring red eye would poke out from a shadow in the corner, but it wasn't that bad. Crane obviously believed her to be asleep, as he walked over and took off his glasses and jacket. She liked the effect it gave him; he seemed nicer and less formal; a lot less like the person who originally caged her in that asylum. You're becoming way too attached to him. She thought to herself.

Amber did feel badly about the whole incident at the asylum. After all, she had lost him his job, and if he was smart, he would leave New York completely. She shut her eyes quickly and regulated her breath so that Crane would think that she was sleeping. Opening her eye a crack, she saw him smile and then look around at her room. It's just for one night. After this, the demons will be gone. She thought. Slowly though, she could feel weariness tugging at her, and her body cried out for rest. She forced herself to stay awake, as she had to make sure that Crane fell asleep before her. She was not disappointed, as a few minutes later, Crane slowly relaxed and laid back on the bed, eyes shut and breathing deeply. He really doesn't look that intimidating or nasty when he's asleep. She thought, looking at his sleeping form. What he looks like when he's sleeping doesn't mean that he isn't those things. I can't get fond of him. She told herself firmly after she broke her trance. Suddenly, she had an idea. Looking beside Crane's glasses on her table, she saw the small pad of paper and pen that she always kept there. Creeping around him, she wrote him a quick note and put it beside his glasses for him to find in the morning.

That is a bad idea. The reasonable voice inside her head told her. Deciding she really didn't care though, she tugged the three blankets from underneath Crane without waking him up. After she tossed them over him, she looked at his sleeping form and went to sleep, confidant that the demons would finally leave.

Blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes, Crane looked down to see who he was holding so closely. It was a woman with red-brown hair; Amber. Slowly he began to recall the events of last night. He only remembered leaning back on her bed, but he must have fallen asleep finally. He definitely didn't remember covering himself with blankets though, and as Amber shifted slightly in his arms, he assumed that she had covered him last night. He played with her hair for a bit while stroking her back. Amber nestled closer to him. He had to admit, it was quite tempting to just lay here for another hour, but something just seemed wrong about this situation.

He couldn't help but ask if this could have really happened, if there could possibly be something between Amber Larks and himself. If things had happened differently, if he had just let her out that night she tried to run, maybe there was just a slight chance. It shouldn't happen now though. He thought firmly. He knew that a large part of why Amber was laying in his arms now was simply that when she saw her hallucinations something in her mind snapped. She thought that somehow he could provide protection from it, and so she had clung to him. There had to be some actual feelings behind it though, as he didn't appear to her as the demon he would to most.

Crane knew that he wouldn't be able to leave here if he didn't do it now. Amber sighed and smiled while she slept. He turned away, slowly moving farther from her. He shrugged on his blazer and crept over to the table to pick up his glasses. There was a folded piece of paper put neatly beside them. Crane looked over at Amber's sleeping form questioningly as he unfolded it carefully.

You are a good person. I told you. Amber

The note said in neat and small handwriting. Why did she have to make this even more difficult than it already is? Crane thought as he folded the note back and slipped it in his pocket. He watched her stir in her sleep, and smiled when she finally settled on the place that he occupied a moment ago.

Crane opened the bedroom door quietly and stepped out. He opened a few drawers in Amber's kitchen until he finally found a blue pen that worked well and a large pad of paper. He sighed and wrote her a small letter. When he was finally done, he folded it in the same fashion that Amber had folded his note and set it next to the half-full martini glass of Grey Goose. He looked at the long carbon-steel knife next to the tall glass and put it away. Looking at his watch, he read the glowing face: 8:35 a.m. If he wanted to leave New York today, he would have to go now.

This is stupid, Jonathan. Why are you doing this? He thought as he crept back into Amber's room. He smiled when he saw her, and walked over to the bed. Leaning over, he kissed her gently on the lips.

Amber's eyes flicked open and Crane cursed himself as she met his bright blue eyes. He turned around and started to leave her room. "Jonathan?" She said in a tone barely above a whisper. He hesitated when he heard her voice, but opened the door and walked out as quietly as possible.

Was I just dreaming? Amber wondered groggily. Frowning, she got out of bed quickly and looked around. Nothing seemed terribly out of place. Her note paper and pen were out of their usual place, but that didn't really matter. But that couldn't have just happened, right? She asked herself as she touched her lips. Amber looked down at her bed. It was messier than it usual was when she woke up, but she could have just been having a bad dream. Of course I was dreaming. Amber thought back to that hideous mutant spider and shuddered.

Amber looked down at the tangled sheets and sighed. How could it have happened? Crane would have killed her if he was here, not comforted her and chased the demons away. Just as she was convincing herself that it didn't happen though, she took another look at her bed. The mattress always retained a slight indentation wherever she slept, and now there was a much spot than there should be. Leaning down, she felt two warm places, both very close together. That would fit the dream.

Amber inhaled deeply next to the large indentation. One half of it smelled normal, but when she smelled the other half, she caught the faint aroma of spices and food, fabric softener, and there was just the barest hint of cologne. She swallowed and sat down hard on the bed. Oh god. It all happened. It was real. Flashes of Crane throwing a small amount of the white powder in her face, the spider thing, and finally, Crane holding her and eventually falling asleep next to her. Dr. Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as the Scarecrow in Gotham City, slept next to me last night. She thought.

Amber took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. Crane actually dosed her with his toxin, but ended up reversing the effects by holding her, and this morning, kissed her. She shook her head when she came to this realization. She walked out of her room and sat down at her small table. The only things on it were a glass of vodka and a note. Amber picked up the martini glass and sipped the bitter liquid while she opened the note.

A very interesting note you left me, Amber. I am amazed that you believe that I am good, but I must still disagree with you. You certainly didn't make it any easier for me this morning by writing it. That is an issue best left for another time though. I have to leave New York soon; Dr. White has ordered me out of the city or else. I think that I'll go somewhere warm, I'm rather sick of winters.

It's hard to find words to describe this, but I suppose that I wanted to thank you. I think that my whole experience with you has made a difference in me. I will not forget that.

J. Crane

Amber stared at the messily scrawled signature for a long time. She supposed that nothing could have ever really happened between them, but she still considered the thought. She wondered if she would ever see him again, and sighed. Knowing that the chances of that happening were slim to none, she looked down into the clear liquid. Her mind was telling her that she should be happy never to see him again, that he was insane and almost killed her, but for some reason she still felt like crying.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. She told herself sharply after draining the last of the vodka. Time for someone to know you're not locked up anymore. Sighing, she put the glass in the sink and walked into her room to get dressed. After pulling her jeans on, she walked out of her apartment and shut the door. She locked it with her usual key, and then looked at the top of the door frame. She grabbed the spare key off of the ledge and walked down to the New York Observer building.

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