Pinkqueen - I'd give you a medal, but unfortunately you don't win anything for playing...only the antidote...*super villain face*

eatingsupernoodles - o-o I'm not sure how to respond to that. You are a silly person the levels of which only the members of Monty Python have achieved. (That's a compliment in my opinion).

Robot521 - Haha, imaginary beard! You're a delight!

NURSE J0Y - I just...I just feel like I'm constantly letting you down. V_V

Violeta27 - You know what you did...and how it was done. And it wasn't even pre-heated! *intense face*

FredGeorgeWazlib - Now I have an image of Killer Croc in water wings and it is an awesome vision! Thank you for that.

Alright, two very important notices! Listen up!

First and most importantly, for those of you who enjoy a little Eddie/Lina smuttery, there is a wonderful story out there called A GOOD MYSTERY, by the incredibly talented (and I heard almost Nymph-like beauty) Violeta27. You need to read this. I mean, like now. Go and find it. I'll wait.*leans against locker* ...*checks nails*... *scratches*...*Sweden wanders by* Oh, hey...ah...lovely weather, isn't it? Yeah, totally lovely and all...I was just outside, you know working out. Toning the ol' rear, doing some light yoga and shit, you can touch my belly if you want, feel how taut it is...Sweden? Hey? Where're you going? ...I'll get you one of these days, you sweet, sweet country...

Back? Okay! Now, secondly and this is fairly important too. Vi pointed out that I missed a spacing in my last chapter. For this shame, I shall now commit seppuku with a rusty bread knife...here goes...AH IT'S NOT A FUN SERRATED-Y PAIN! FORGET THIS I'LL JUST APOLOGIZE! ...I'm sorry if my errors offend any of you...I need to get to the hospital now...

Chapter Five: This Thing Here & Those Whatchamacallits

Day Nine

**Edward**

Appearing in her bedroom was always a moment of quiet reflection for him.

Perhaps he was just a little sentimental, but Edward found the small, squeak-like whimpers she made while sleeping comforted him.

He stood in the darkest corner of her room, watching her sleep in the early hours of the morning. But he wasn't really observing her, his mind was on the tactics of the battle that lay before him. Before him, clenched in his hands his cane was still, resting lightly on the floor. His posture was impeccable, he stood straight and neat like a sentinel.

When her squeaks became more urgent whines, he quietly, carefully move out of his shadows towards her bed.

For nearly three months he had perfected the art of watching her sleep, perfected the art of sneaking up on a sleeping Catwoman.

If he hovered his hand just above her forehead long enough, he could slowly set it on her without waking the ever vigilant woman.

At the foot of the bed Miss Kitty didn't even move. She knew that the tall human at her mistresses bedside wasn't a threat. At least not to Selina.

Under his palm, her forehead smoothed, all whimpers died in her throat and she fell back into a peaceful sleep.

"Eddie?" She muttered.

He stilled. Often, when he came to her at night, she would mumble his name in her sleep.

Her chest still rose and fell deeply.

She was only dreaming of him.

Smirking arrogantly, Edward carefully removed his hand and stepped back from her side.

Looking about her room, at the clothes dropped near her bathroom door, at the shoes piled up haphazardly in the bottom of her closet, spilling out ever so, at the vanity with things that he was sure would remain a mystery to men, but be ever useful to a woman, at the cat sleeping on the chair in the corner near the window, or the one draped half on and half off the bench at the end of the bed. He eyed the beautiful (no doubt stolen and no doubt original) art on her wall, the picture of him as a boy that he had given her, which was framed and set on her dresser, at his mask left on her night table.

He loved that he had a presence in her home, even when he wasn't there. The egotist in him loved the fact that he had marked a small part of her territory with reminders of him. It may have been something she enjoyed as well, as he could recall his home before the fire. Where little things of hers had been peppered throughout it. Not just the cluster of kitties she had brought and left, but a perfume bottle and toothbrush near his bathroom sink, a bottle of shampoo that smelled of jasmine in his bathtub and likewise the conditioner that sat beside it, PVC gloves with those deadly diamond tipped claws left on his dresser beside his cufflink bowl, even the package of feminine things she had stashed under his bathroom sink was endearing (if not a little unsettling for the man not used to living with women since the days of living with a mother).

Slowly, he picked up his cane from where it hung on his forearm and set it down against the wall near her bed.

Edward smiled, proud to have left one more sign of his presence and moved back to his shadowy corner to go back to working through his thoughts, to go back to watching over her.

He was sure she wouldn't care if he slid into the bed with her, but for some reason Edward didn't want to interrupt her sleep. He just wanted to observe her at her most vulnerable for the time being. In four hours he would set in motion the tides which would bring about the Joker's ruination, but for now all Edward wanted to do was calm himself with Selina Kyle's breathing.

**Selina**

When her radio alarm came on, she found herself blinking back the sun that decided to shine directly in her window like the fiery asshole that it was and all but stumbling out of her bed.

It was perhaps the worst way she had woken in a long while, her head felt thick, like she had slept too long or too deeply and her muscles felt weak.

She lay in an undignified heap on the floor for a moment, allowing herself to get used to the sun and the morning, before she chanced getting to her feet.

Getting over the undignified act of waking up like some old, alcoholic, she managed to move across her room with all the dignity and grace of a Queen, pulling on her silk robe on her way by the vanity, heading for her bathroom.

Her hand was just reaching out to push the door open, when she realized that the door had been all but closed with only a small gap remaining. She never kept her bathroom door closed like that…and the light was always off if she wasn't using the room.

Cautiously she pushed the door open.

Inside a tall, pale, half-naked God of a man stood at her sink, shaving as casually as if it were his own bathroom.

Crossing her arms, she leaned in the doorway, hoping to mask how excited she actually was to see him again by looking calm. "Your hair is getting long again." She mused.

Eddie smirked at himself in the mirror. "I suppose it is." Turning away from his task he eyed her with soft robin's egg blue eyes. "I hope you don't mind, kitten. It's hard shaving with the shard of mirror I have back at the lair."

She shook her head and joined him at the sink. Leaping up, she sat on the countertop at his side and watched him as he went about with his task. There was something she found sexy about a man shaving, but she could never place the exact reason for this fetish of hers.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm a newfound species, my dear?" He inquired.

Selina touched a hand to her bare knee, tracing a scar there. "I don't know…I guess," she took a quick glance at him, ensuring he was too busy shaving to really pay her any attention, "I guess I'm just glad you're alive."

Clear, perceptive eyes turned on her. They had changed from a soft robin's egg to a hard, electric teal in a mere matter of seconds. Eddie smirked, however, and she knew it wasn't his angry look, but his hard, studying look she was being scrutinized with. With a bit of shaving cream on his finger, he touched the tip of her nose, painting it white playfully.

"Don't get sentimental on me, kitten. I might actually begin to think you care." He said, beaming widely at her.

Rubbing the shaving cream off with the back of her hand, she hesitated. Anyone who knew anything about Gotham's underground knew just how dangerous it was to admit that you actually cared for someone or something. But then again, how often did a woman get a man she could stand back from the grave?

She dug her nails into her knee when the urge to put her foot in her mouth arose. Just shut up, Lina.

"You ever pretend to be dead on me again and I'll kill you myself." She stated firmly, hopping off the counter and moving towards her shower.

"Lina?"

She wrenched the knobs in the bathtub, turning the hot on with a vengeance, trying to hide the sudden well of emotions that had bubbled up in her chest.

A strong, elegant hand settled on her shoulder lightly. "Kitten? I understand."

She knew exactly what he meant, and she knew it wasn't that he understood her threat, but that he understood how she felt, because the fucking Riddler knew her too well.

By the time she composed herself enough to dare a glance at him, he was already back at the sink, wiping the remaining shaving cream off his face with a towel.

Selina turned the cold water on and felt the water's temperature.

"I do care," she whispered under the rush of the water if only to appease herself, but out loud she spat, "you don't know everything."

He chuckled and ambled across the bathroom, taking those graceful, jovial steps of his that oozed arrogance. Half-naked as he was, his movements oozed much more than arrogance - if Selina was honest - the man was full of a shocking amount of sex appeal without ever trying. It was the casual act of stalking her, coupled with the way his taut, toned muscles rippled under pale, smooth flesh. He wasn't as broad or as bronzed as Bruce, and yet Selina found him to be the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Of course she'd never tell him that, his head would never fit through a door again.

"Ah," Eddie purred, approaching her, "but I know much."

She smirked at him. "But not everything, Eddie. In fact, I think you know about as much as Jonathan Crane."

Stopping short, just a mere arm's length from her, he pocketed his hands, lips forming an 'O', eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. "Well," he began slowly, wickedly, "there is one important thing I know of, which I'm sure Crane will never know."

"Oh?"

Dropping to one knee, he knelt before her as she perched on the edge of the tub. "Of course, the day he finds out about the freckle is the day I no longer have to worry about a rivalry with him ever again."

She pushed him backwards with her foot and stood up. "My water's getting cold."

Laughing from the floor, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Well, I'll take that as an open invitation to join you, shall I?"

**Crane**

"What do you want?" He snapped.

Catwoman broke her stride long enough to snort at his greeting. "Nice. With all your upbringing, you'd think you'd have learned some manners."

"What do you want, madam." He snarled.

She set a Styrofoam container on the table before him, ignoring the fact he used 'madam' instead of 'miss' just to piss her off. "Just brought you something warm to eat."

He studied the container without even opening it. "Well, don't expect gratitude, Cat."

"You're in a foul mood tonight. Even fouler than usual." She remarked.

Pointing at his chemical layout, he spat. "This last batch is a dud. I can't get the damned chemical balance right without fine tuning the formula." He quirked a brow at her. "I need a test subject."

Catwoman scowled delicately. "You gas me, Crane, and it'll be the last thing you do."

"Child, you'd be furthering the scientific community by aiding me in my tests." He said.

"I don't often use this kind of language, Jon. But fuck no."

"Come on, Lina," he said, pushing to his feet and approaching her slowly, a grenade of fear gas in hand. "As my partner in crime it's your duty to be my test subject."

"I'll hurt you." She growled, pulling out her whip and letting it fall at her side.

Crane chuckled. "You know, when Harley let me test on her, she was never more appreciative of my presence during the trial. We fucked like rabbits when she was high on the fear toxin." Knowing her circle of terror, he stopped just short of it and tilted his head. "Of course if you won't help me, then I guess this ends our short and tenuous partnership. I can't trust someone who won't trust me."

Catwoman eyed him carefully for the longest time in intense silence. "I'll come back when you're in a saner mood."

Chuckling as the woman left his lair, Crane sighed almost happily to himself. He was never more content then when he was making people uncomfortable.

"What a clever way to break off the engagement, Jonathan." The Riddler said from his side where he had suddenly appeared.

Quirking a brow, the Scarecrow angled his head towards his friend. "Hn? Oh right, your thing…" he moved back to his work table.

"You…you weren't really going to gas her. Were you?"

Looking about for his pencil, Crane snarled mildly to himself. "It's was just here…"

"Crane?"

Picking up some papers, he tossed them aside. "Now where the hell…?"

"Crane?"

"Hn?" He looked over and up at his friend. "Oh…no, of course not." He returned to his search, finding his pencil under an old candy wrapper. "Ah-ha!" He held the pencil up high and wiggled it ever so. "Well, now, shall we get down to business."

Pocketing his hands, the Riddler smiled. "Of course."

"You know," Crane mused, easing back into his chair, "I wasn't lying about needing a test subject…"

Day Ten

**Edward**

The first thing he noticed was that his mouth was drier than crackers in the Sahara.

Edward coughed, expecting a cloud of dust to puff out from his lungs.

That was when he noticed he was strapped to a table very tightly.

Above him Jonathan Crane's severe features peered down curiously.

"How do you feel, Edward?"

"Well, there's a murderous rage boiling deep down inside me, my throat's dry and I think I'm laying on a fork or something." He growled. "Other than that, I'm just really, really disappointed in you."

Crane smirked, that cold, little, cruel smirk of his and scribbled in his notebook. "Good, good, and your appetite?"

"Could you un-strap me, please?"

"In time. Let's check your blood pressure first."

"Oh, I can assure you, it's through the roof." Edward replied, wriggling his wrists where they had been bound to the table top with a long, itchy strand of hemp rope not unlike the kind Crane used for the noose on his costume. "Why do I continue to trust you?"

"Oh, I don't really know, Edward. But thank you for providing me with a guinea pig. These test results are phenomenal."

Coughing again, the Riddler sighed. "Can I at least get a glass of water or something?"

"Ah, right…" as the Scarecrow hurried off to get water for his lab rat, Edward studied his bindings the best he could. "I'm thinking of calling this batch Scared Silent, because you didn't do anything but sit there with big eyes, trembling in fear at the shadows!" Crane hollered from his kitchen-type corner where he had set up a homemade water purifier.

Hurrying back, the man gazed eerily down at Edward. "Of course, when you did finally move, it was to grab hold of a piece of broken glass to slash your own chest with."

"I was wondering about the chest pains."

Carefully pouring some water into Edward's mouth, his 'friend' smirked proudly. "I'm really happy this batch is successful."

Swallowing his water, the Riddler scowled up at Crane. "I'm glad. Next week when I test out my new cane, I'll give you a call."

"Now, do you remember any of your hallucinations?"

"Sure, I had one, it involved me befriending a stick insect who then went on to crack my skull open and play around in my grey matter."

Scribbling away, Crane nodded. "Ah, good I…" his brow furrowed and he raised his eyes. "That's very cute, Edward. Let's stick to the facts, shall we?"

"Am I wearing a sailor suit?"

"It was the only thing I could find that wasn't covered in blood."

"You're an incredible ass. Now set me loose."

Crane hesitated.

"Look, I want to get up and about, this fork in my kidney is murder." Edward said.

Carefully the Scarecrow undid his restraints, long, nimble fingers tugging the rope loose.

Sitting up carefully, the Riddler winced. "Goddamn, I feel like an elephant sat on my head." Looking down at the damage to his chest, he quirked a brow. "Did you stitch me, Doc?"

"I did."

"Oh, that was nice, thanks."

"Shall we return to the test?"

"Ah, yes. Let's."

Scribbling in his notebook, Crane nodded. "Okay, can you be specific on the symptoms you're experiencing?"

Edward frowned. "Well…I think…yeah, my hand is seizing up."

Pale blue eyes studied the ball that Edward's hand had formed quickly, before returning to his notebook. Crane took a small, cautious step backwards. "Very good, anything else?'

A fist flew at the Scarecrow's mouth, clocking him dead-on and knocking him onto his ass.

"Arm spasms." Edward replied calmly, standing over the form of his friend. Stepping over his body, he moved across the lair towards the pile of his bloody clothes.

Rubbing his mouth, Crane scrambled to his feet. "You took that harder than Selina did when I asked her about her past." He observed. "Emotions really are the downfall of the human race…"

Spinning on his friend with a quirked brow, Edward scowled. "You asked Selina about her past?"

"Well, I postulated that her personality is the result of some trauma she suffered as a young woman, of course she reacted much better when I…" Crane's sentence faded out as he finally took notice of the hard look Edward was giving him.

"Selina's past is not something you can use in your mind games, Jon."

"Has it ever occurred to you, that Selina could use a trained professional to talk to."

"Ah, and suddenly you care about Selina's state of mental health."

"Certainly not." Crane growled. "But you could take a little more interest in her world, Eddie."

Unable to comprehend the Scarecrow giving him relationship advice, the Riddler chuckled. "This coming from a man who hates everything and everyone."

"This coming from a man who made his bread and butter in psychology, Edward!" Stoic features shifted, morphed into something almost human as Crane approached his friend. "A woman like her would never openly give anything without a little support and a little prodding. She might beat the hell out of you for some questions you ask her, but deep down she wants more than anything for you to know these things she keeps hidden."

"I do know these things, Jonathan." Edward said. "It's why I said her past is off limits. Now, if you'll pardon my abrupt departure, I'd like to get the hell out of here before you sneak a gas attack on me again."

"You always fall for the 'look a bat' trick." Crane mused. "It's almost unsporting at this point."

**Selina**

Someone was in her bathroom crooning away when she returned home from her morning jog.

Curious, she followed the sound and found a very down trodden looking Riddler inside her bathtub fully dressed, long legs akimbo, hands to his bloody chest.

"Gilbert and Sullivan?" She greeted.

He stopped crooning. "Nope, just Edward."

"Cute. What happened there and why are you singing in my bathtub?"

Glancing down at his chest, he pulled a face. "I got into a fight with myself. And your bathroom has the best acoustics in the whole damned place."

Reaching out, she pulled the remnants of his shirt up and off the bloody wounds, wincing at the sight of them. "Ah, Jesus. Why aren't you in the bed or someplace comfier?"

"I didn't want to bleed out on your sheets." He replied.

"I doubt you'll bleed out, Ed. From the looks of it, someone's already stitched them up."

"Haphazardly." He growled, leaning forward, preparing to rise. "Probably with a rusty needle..."

She stopped him with a gentle hand. "Wait…how about taking a request first?"

He eyed her suspiciously. "What do I get if I can honour the request?"

Selina smirked. "My respect."

"Don't I have it already?"

Holding up her hand, palm down, she tilted it back and forth.

"Let's hear it."

Leaning in close, she smiled softly and led him with. "I am the very model of a modern Major-General…"

"Oh, you think I can't sing that one? Tricky minx…"

Laughing, she rest her elbow on the edge of the tub and cupped her chin in her palm.

Inhaling deeply, Eddie eyed her with narrowed eyes. "I am the very model of a modern Major-General," he began slowly.

"You're not keeping the beat." She warned.

"I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral, I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical," he picked up a little speed. "From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical; I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical, I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical, About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news, With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse." Finishing, he leaned against the side of the tub she was on and smirked. "That's all you get."

She beamed at him. "That's all I wanted." Leaning in she kissed his temple and grabbed hold of his hand. "Come on, I'll clean your wounds."

Leading him into the bedroom, she helped him ease back onto the bed and hopped off, back into the bathroom for the cream. When she returned, she eased onto the bed beside him and helped him peel his bloody shirt off.

He growled as the dried blood tore away from his stitched wounds.

"Who stitched you up?" She asked.

"I did it myself." He said.

Squeezing a small amount of the white, stinky stuff onto her fingertip, she smirked. "You're lying."

"It's not another woman, if that's what you're thinking."

She smiled softly, carefully daubing at his wound with the cream. "I know. You can barely handle one, I doubt you'd try for two." She teased.

Eddie chuckled, tucking his hand behind his head. "You're looking beautiful today, kitten."

She laughed at him. "I'm a mess, Ed. I'm all sweaty from my jog and I'm still in my jogging clothes."

"You're beautiful, my queen."

They fell into a comfortable silence, Selina working on his wounds, Eddie enjoying the peace of the morning.

"Eddie?" She asked.

He quirked a brow, but remained still. "Hn?"

"Just how did you escape the Joker's fire?"

"Ah, the sixty-four thousand dollar question…" he chuckled. "It wasn't anything miraculous if that's what you're thinking. I didn't pull a Houdini, I just toed the cord, grabbed my kittens and my security box and got the hell out of Dodge."

"You saved the kittens?' She asked, capping the tube of ointment.

"I saved the children." He confirmed proudly.

"But they found remains that went unidentified by anyone, they assumed the remains were yours." She argued.

He shrugged. "That poor bastard. But, hey, it worked out better for me."

Capping the ointment, she pushed back to her feet, but Eddie clamped his hand around her wrist and pulled her back onto the bed with him.

"What do you want out of life, Lina?" He asked.

"Two billion dollars and a yacht." She replied.

"How about something I can actually give you?"

"Let me go for my shower."

"Okay, but I was thinking something a bit more than that."

She smirked at him. "When I know, you'll know."

He released her.

"I'm going for a shower now, Ed."

"But I may pass out," he replied. "I think you'd better stay just in case."

Leaning down she kissed the tip of his nose. "I won't be long."

"I'll just amuse myself with trying to find the new hiding place you found for your vibrating toy while I wait, shall I?" He teased.

Day Eleven

**Pam**

The house was quiet when she stepped inside in search of Victor's soother with her son at her hip.

If she knew Fries, he'd be in the study he made for himself, reading or working on the research for his wife's illness.

Whereas most homes the living room was the centre of activity, in Doctor Fries' it was his study. Nearly everything he did, he did there.

Ivy liked to give him his privacy, so she had only been into his home a handful of times. It seemed like a gross invasion of privacy to her, but he never seemed to mind. And if it wasn't for her son bawling his little eyes out for the soother, she wouldn't have made the journey.

Climbing the stairs, she could see a light on in his study and smiled a little. It was some comfort to know he was just there should she need him.

Approaching the room, she heard Fries speaking and slowed.

Did he have a guest?

Carefully, she drew closer to the half opened door.

"I think you're crazy." Fries' deep, calming tone broke over the conversation.

A familiar voice replied swiftly. "Madness is only a state of mind, my friend."

Ivy frowned and pushed open the door in a mild rage, interrupting the conversation. She knew that used car salesman patter anywhere, and it only came from one silver tongued devil in Gotham.

"Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore?" She growled irritably.

Edward Nygma looked over the brim of a fine, bone china tea cup at her with bright, gleaming blue eyes, before replacing the cup on the saucer held in his left hand.

"Well, hello to you too, Pam." The Riddler greeted.

"Pamela, is everything okay?" Victor asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm just looking for Victor's soother. What the hell is he doing here?"

In his chair, the Riddler sipped at his tea, eyeing the boy at her hip.

"Edward was just explaining to me how he escaped the Joker's fire and then he started babbling madness."

"We're all mad here," Edward stated with a smug grin, teacup in hand.

Glowering at the man, Ivy spat. "Somewhere I'm sure Jervis just had a braingasm, Eddie, but just keep your goddamned mouth shut for the moment."

"Your live-in maid is very rude, Doctor," Edward said to Fries.

"Why must you antagonize her, Edward?" Fries asked, searching his desk for his son's soother.

"Because it's hard to antagonize you." He replied.

"What do you want, Ed?" Ivy snarled.

"Do you have two billion dollars and a yacht?" Smirking into his tea, the Riddler took another calm sip. "No? Too bad, I was asking for a friend."

At her hip Victor made a garbled exclamation, a tiny hand swiping out towards the Riddler, who actually flinched a little.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Princeling," Fries said to his boy, handing the soother over to his mom.

"So what kind of convoluted scheme have you concocted this time, Eddie?" Pam asked. "And how can I get you off this property fast enough?"

Laughing blithely, Edward set his cup and saucer on the desk before him and turned to face her. "I'm glad you ask me about my plans, Pam. Please, take a seat."

Glancing over at Fries who seemed just as cautiously curious as her, she carefully perched on a chair at Edward's side, her son squirming towards the Riddler like a little puppy, eager to meet and greet new people.

"Have your say then get the hell off my property." She said, struggling to keep her son from slipping out of her arms.