The Sacred and Profane - I think I broke some rules, though. Like the beautiful, intelligent girl always winds up with the good guy. And villains never catch a break. Truthfully I can't stand Batman, the only reason I read Batman comics are for the villains...actually that's the only reason I read any comic book. O_o

Robot521 - Yeah, Lina is super lucky. Eddie is just too adorkable at times.

TanithSeh1011 - Oh holy hell, if you wrote a Riddler/Catwoman fic I would probably mess myself with excitement! The pairing needs a lot more love.

Violeta27 - Well, Eddie got a little too comfortable with Crane, because they are friends, but yeah getting gassed will definitely cause him to be a little less trusting of his 'friend'.

NURSE J0Y - Thanks for the tip...I think I'll give it a try. See what I can catch in my trap.

Alright, this chapter is short and late, but give me a break. It doesn't need anymore than it has. It's packed full of goodness!

*puts out vodka and herring*

*waits*

Chapter Six: Minotaur's & Bipedal Bulls

Day Twelve

**Selina**

Her whip and gloves were tossed down onto the kitchen table, beside her cup of coffee, drawing her attention from the newspaper's society page.

Looking up, she found Edward standing there, smiling brightly.

"Good boy, now fetch me my slippers." She purred.

He chuckled and leaned over the table. "When was the last time you stole something, kitten?"

"Why do you ask?"

Resting his elbow on the tabletop, he struck an innocent pose, chin in the palm of his hand. "Oh…I just thought you might want to do me a small, tiny, atomic sized favour."

"I don't give the milk away for free, Ed." She shot back.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that. What can I do, to see you in black vinyl tonight?" He asked.

Folding the newspaper, she set it aside. "Hn, let me think…what's the job?"

"I need you to steal the suit off of the wax figure of Batman at the Gotham Wax Works."

Selina laughed. "What?"

"I need the suit. Can you get it for me?"

"A wax museum heist, hm? Should be easy, but what are you going to do for me."

"Whatever you want, kitten." He replied, hands falling to adjust his cufflinks.

"I could be a cold-hearted bitch and demanded something ridiculous," she said, "but the only thing I need at the moment is a sparring partner."

"Me?"

"If not you, then who?"

Eddie beamed. "Kitten," he cooed, "are you still trying to figure out whether I can fight or not?"

"You couldn't have survived this long without knowing some tricks or something…" she muttered, touching a hand to her cheek.

"Pocket sand." He replied swiftly. "A little dash in the eyes gets them every time."

Pushing to her feet, Selina set a hand on his chest. "Cute, dress appropriately and meet me in the abandoned kettle warehouse at seven tonight. Then we'll see about getting you your Batsuit."

"Fine. I'll play punching bag for a few hours, but just know when you're done stealing the suit, I'm blowing the museum to kingdom come."

"Why?"

"Because if there's one thing I've learned from Vincent Price it's that wax museums are unholy breeding grounds for wax fetishists and should be purged of this earth."

Crossing her arms, she leaned her hip against her kitchen counter. "Are you sending me into the museum because you're scared of the dummies?"

"Let's not be silly." He replied, adjusting his tie. "I'm not scared of the dummies, I'm wary of the man who makes the dummies. There's a considerable difference."

"Well, I think you're safe. Not much call for a wax dummy of an elf these days."

He sighed. "That's never going to be funny."

"I'm laughing." She pointed out.

"Looking around I can't help but notice that you're the only one, my dear."

"That's all that matters, Ed."

**Edward**

It was a shabby, older neighbourhood that he popped up in.

A sort of throwback to the seventies, lined with elms and old, crumbling curbs that had patches of thick green grass growing in between cracks and spreading back towards quaint white picket fences and moderately sized front yards to homes that were retro throwbacks, half in brick and half in siding.

He felt like he was thrown back into his old neighbourhood. Back when Gotham's suburbs looked more like the neighbourhood he was standing in then the cookie cutter perfection of Little Gotham.

Passing by two shiny, well tended motorcycles, he hopped onto the front stoop and adjusted his cufflinks, before pressing the doorbell.

Waiting to be let in, he studied the yard. The grass was a little shabby, but trimmed, the juniper bush in the front corner protected a fat, furry tortoiseshell cat from the slightly overcast skies above.

It peered out at him with yellow eyes curiously, struggling to figure out the man who invaded it's territory.

Edward smiled at it.

Finally the door opened and a brown eye peered out at him, before the door was cast open.

"Holy good goddamned!" Nina exclaimed. "Diedre get out here and see who's standing at our door!"

From out of the house a blonde came flying, attaching herself to Edward with all the fury of a child seeing Santa.

She squealed and kicked her legs, dangling around his neck like a garish tie.

Politely holding on to her, Edward smiled at his former henchwomen. "Hello, girls."

Pulling him into the house with an amazing amount of strength, Diedre Vance pushed him over and onto a floral print couch that fit right in with the blast-from-the-past feel of Hareton Street.

"We knew you weren't dead! Everyone said you were, but you can't keep a genius down!" She exclaimed, settling herself against him like a little girl who missed a beloved father, arms hung loosely around him.

"True genius is immortal, my girl." He replied calmly.

Across from him Nina perched on the coffee table, brown eyes wide. "It's good to see you, boss."

"My dear girls, I have missed you." He lifted the arm on his free side, inviting his other beloved henchwoman to his side.

She moved into place with a little less force than the blonde, smiling at their boss.

"We heard you were knee deep in pussy before you died." Diedre gushed in her none-too-subtle tone.

Nina reached over and slapped her companion. "Shut up."

Edward beamed at his girls, first one and then the other. "I appreciate your brilliant play on words, my dear, but perhaps it's best to leave the crass double entendres to the lower intellect crowds haunting Gotham's skateboard parks."

"But you were, weren't you?" Nina demanded. "Caught up with that thieving cat burglar."

"I was." He stated.

"What's she got that we ain't got?" Diedre demanded.

Looking from one to the other, Edward smirked. "Tact, my dears."

Nina smiled wickedly. "That and bigger tits, right?"

Catching her chin, Edward gave her a scolding look. "Be nice."

"Yeah, Nina, no need for claws." Diedre teased.

Turning, he caught the blonde's chin as well. "Don't instigate." He warned.

Beside him, his two henchwomen beamed as their boss released their chins.

"So…do you still have it?" He asked, getting down to business.

"Maybe," Diedre said.

"And maybe we tossed it into the bay." Nina added.

"If it was in a jealous rage, I wouldn't blame you." He replied. "I am fantastic."

They beamed at him impishly.

"We have it." Nina admitted.

"It's in the basement." Diedre added.

Edward grinned. "Marvellous! I knew you two wouldn't let me down."

Packing the last of it into the duffle bag the girls had provided, Edward looked about the modest basement.

It was barren except for a few boxes, some of his old Riddler weapons and such, on the far wall hung one of his old, leotard costumes, and a few other things that belonged only to the girls.

He moved towards the costume to reminisce.

"I can't believe how terrible that was to wear," he mused.

Beside him the girls giggled.

"We liked it just fine on you, boss." Nina said.

"Because you could see everything." Diedre added.

Chuckling, he reached out and touched the sleeve of the green Lycra suit. "Ah to be young enough not to worry about dangly bits."

"You still look good to us."

Eyeing his girls, he found a soft fondness in their gazes, something that actually touched him a little. "Thanks, my girls. Mind if I take this?"

"It's yours, boss."

Reaching up, he pulled the costume down from where it hung and, folding it, transparent dry cleaning bag and all, stuffed it into the duffle bag.

Turning about one last time, he surveyed his past laid out in a makeshift shrine in the basement of a home on Hareton and sighed.

Diedre rushed at him, arms weaving around his waist tightly. "We missed you, boss!"

Behind her Nina also approached. "Are you back for good this time?"

"Forever and a day, my girls."

"I brought you some company, Crane."

In his wing back chair, Jonathan Crane looked up from his book, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"Oh holy hell, Edward!" He snarled, eyeing the two women who had come in with his friend and were now nosing around his lair, the blonde slurping on a slush treat. "Why don't you just bring the entire neighbourhood here?"

"You're on a boat in the middle of the bay, Jon, the nearest neighbours you have in this 'hood, include the bum we passed on the way here who was pissing against the shipping manifest offices and a hooker and her john doing something very naughty under the docks. But, I could certainly direct them this way, if you want." He pocketed his hands, allowing his cane to dangle from his forearm. "My girls are trustworthy, Crane. And they're damned good shots."

"Don't make us go home yet, Scarecrow." Diedre pleaded, big blue eyes shining up at the tall man. "We hate living in the seventies."

"We can be very accommodating." Nina added.

Furrowing his brow, Crane eyed the two women. "I'm not sure I fully understand the comment about 'the seventies', but…just stay away from my work table."

They both saluted him languidly and continued to poke about.

Chuckling, Edward approached his friend closer to keep the conversation between them. "You know, with just a few words, they can be very accommodating, Jon. So, make sure you steer clear of the right words…or don't, whatever you want. I won't judge."

Pale blue eyes focused on the two women over Edward's head.

"Oh, ah…just a warning, if you do find the right combination of words…they usually like to be together during."

Those unholy eyes met Edward's.

The two men stared at each other for a long, slightly uncomfortable moment.

"Welp,' Edward broke the moment, checking his pocket watch, "I must be off. I have a seven o'clock beat down scheduled." He moved across the room, heading for the door. "Girls, behave yourselves, I'll be back for you. If the Scarecrow needs anything, you help him with it, okay?"

"Roger! Will-co, boss!"

"Good luck!"

The abandoned kettle factory was a nasty little thing, gutted of all the heavy duty equipment it once housed for machining the shapes of a variety of tea kettles and various pots and pans.

Inside it was a brick and rust theme, just screaming tetanus and death.

Around the empty floor of the factory a shady-looking catwalk ran, criss-crossing here and there heading for floating offices high overhead.

Treading in a place where even angels would hesitate, Edward wandered towards the back of the factory where the loading bays were.

He had no idea where his cat would be, but he knew that if she was there, she'd find him.

Setting down his duffle bag, he checked his pocket watch once more. It was eight after.

"You're late!"

Glancing upwards, towards the source of the sound, he found Lina dropping a rope down through a skylight.

"Come on up."

Eyeing the slightly swaying rope that landed before him, he frowned ever so. "Hello, rope." Edward muttered. "My one, true enemy…" Looking up, he shouted at Catwoman, "I don't suppose you have a ladder or anything up there, hm?"

Resting her forearms on the ledge of the window, she leaned down casually. "What's wrong, Ed? Can't climb a rope?"

He touched the side of his nose.

"Really?" She demanded. "How did you survive this long in Gotham?"

"We discussed the pocket sand, right?"

Grabbing hold of the rope, Selina slid down it with ease, landing beside him.

"You need good strong thighs," she said.

"I'll bet I do." He purred, grinning down devilishly at her.

"For climbing."

"That too." He returned his attention to the rope. "Unfortunately I just wasn't built for scrambling up a piece of…what is that? Nylon? No one makes hemp rope anymore…where does Crane get his then?"

"Grab the rope, Ed." She commanded.

He took hold of it. "You know…heights make me a little nervous…"

"Nothing will happen to you." She assured. "I promise."

Edward quirked a brow, but said nothing.

"It's just like climbing a ladder, one hand goes over the other to pull you up. The strong thighs are just to keep you secure." She instructed.

"Sure the physics are there, but," he glanced up the length of the rope, "I'm afraid there are variables against me."

"Try for me?" She asked.

"No laughing." He warned.

"No promises."

With a scowl, he hopped up, grabbing the rope and dangling from it awkwardly. Legs struggling to grip it with his thighs, gloved hands sliding down the nylon. Slowly, sadly, he slipped back down to earth.

Determined not to be an embarrassment, he tried again with the same result.

Glancing over at Selina, he found her silent staring disheartening and set a hand against the back of his neck and rubbed. "I always just used a rope ladder…"

Smiling softly, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Okay, we'll give the rope a miss for tonight. There's a ladder onto the roof out back, get dressed for the occasion and I'll meet you up there."

**Selina**

She was expecting sweats and an old t-shirt.

Of course when one took into account the fact that it was Edward Nygma you were about to spar with, one never pictured him in anything other than a suit.

So when he climbed up the ladder onto the roof wearing a hakama and kote gloves, she was mildly intrigued. Her interest was doubled when he solemnly set down a set of wooden staffs beside the duffle bag. She hadn't noticed those before, but then again she wasn't expecting him to bring toys.

"What is this?" She asked. "Are you making fun of me?"

He eyed her quietly. "No. This is my workout gear."

Despite her resolve not to laugh at him, she did just that. "For what? Don't tell me you studied martial arts?"

Edward tilted his head down, flashing her a coy smile. "Kendo, actually."

She laughed harder. "You studied kendo, but you can't climb a rope?"

"They're two completely different things, my dear. Shall we?" He motioned to the bag. "I brought extra equipment if you need protection."

"We're not fighting with sticks, Ed." She replied. "I was hoping for a street fight."

"Shinai, actually and you didn't set any rules for this sparring match. You can street fight all you want, I'm not letting you kick my ass so easily." He pulled a cotton towel on over his hair, wrapping it around his head, before settling the mask over his features. "Unless you're suddenly afraid of my abilities?"

"Fine." She said. "I enjoy a mixed fight as much as the next girl. But that silly get-up of yours is going to be a detriment to your mobility."

Pushing the mask back off his face, Edward laughed at her. "We'll see soon enough, won't we, kitten?" Leaning down, he picked up a shinai and hefted it's weight, before setting it down in favour of another.

Selina pursed her lips. "Ready?"

Eddie struck a pose. "Ready."

Getting into attack mode, she hunched over ever so, reducing her mass and any points Eddie might see in her defence.

Likewise, he tensed, eyeing her through the silly mask of his.

Seeing an opportunity to attack his right side, she moved, striking out with her wrapped fist. Eddie's shinai came out of nowhere and whacked her good across the forearm.

She moved out of his range, glaring at him.

Even through the mesh of his mask, she could see his eyes twinkling.

Oh, it was going to get bloody.

"Are we done yet?" Eddie asked proudly, backing away carefully from the Selina's approach on light, graceful feet, his shinai held out before him. "Do you concede defeat?"

She was battered but hardly ready to call it quits, sweat ran down her neck and tickled her spine, but she was far from done. "Shut up and fight me, Ed!"

As she continued her approach, Eddie pattered left, then right quickly, before meeting Selina's arm. It was a mere warning tap, but it still stung a little.

"Want that weapon now, my dear?" He asked.

Stubbornly she ignored him, circling the Riddler like a predator, eyes on fire.

The two struggled back and forth, shinai and arms meeting, clashing like two magnetic forces, sparking power and strength through sheer force. Selina using grand, powerful swipes and Eddie countering with delicate movements. His was mostly a defensive stance, her's offensive as they battled.

"Give up?" He asked.

"Like hell!"

Using her boot, Selina kicked Eddie back with more force than she intended and Eddie hit the brick of a chimney stack, his feet skidding over the pebbles of the rooftop.

He laughed. "Fine, let's end this before I wear you out, kitten! Jogo do pau!" The Riddler exclaimed, trying once more, leaping into the fray with Selina like a dancer, this time more offence than defence.

She staggered back from his attack in shock. His fighting style had changed so rapidly that she was impressed, but she was also forced to memorize these new movements he had undertaken in a span of mere seconds.

He managed to get a few hits in, glancing blows off of her with a ferocity Selina had never seen coming from the Riddler and as she recovered from the shock, she struck back, grabbing hold of his shinai and snapping it in two forcefully, before kneeing him hard in the thigh.

As she got more and more enraged, her blows become stronger and more directly placed and soon a well place blow sent Eddie to the ground, that silly mask of his flying across the rooftop.

The Riddler backed off, eyeing both halves of his weapon with a small scowl, before beaming widely and raising both in tightly clenched fists. "Kali! Why not?"

They clashed once more, Eddie wielding two weapons now instead of one, using one half for defence and the other for offence.

Lina, deciding to end the match, backed away to take a running go at him. She raced full force at him, before leaping and spinning, avoiding his broken shinai to collide against him roughly.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him to the ground with her and grabbing of both his wrists, pinned them above his head, using all her strength.

Eddie beamed up at her. "Let's just say you win, my dear. I'm getting tired."

She smirked proudly. "Let's not say I won, Ed. Because it doesn't need saying. I did win."

Quirking a brow, Eddie calmly raised himself up ever so. "I really could have countered your last move. I just want to save my remaining strength for the victory party."

She released his arms to lean against his chest. "What makes you think there'll be a victory party?"

"Two people can't fight this much without it ending in sex or death. And since we didn't end up killing each other…"

She chuckled.

"Sorry I clipped you," he said, brushing a finger near the wound to her head, half hidden by her hair.

"All's fair in love and war, Eddie." She purred. "But how the hell do you know how to fight like that?"

"A man can't go into battle with only a gun and a cane and not know how to use the cane." He replied smugly.

"But when did you find the time to learn?"

"When did you find the time to learn your moves?"

"Point taken."

"Would you grab my duffle, dear? I can find us a bed in two seconds flat." He replied calmly.

"Oh? We need a bed?"

"I'm not feeling the pebbles, if you know what I mean." He said.

Smirking, she pushed to her feet to get his duffle. Her hand had settled on the handle of it as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her tightly.

With a small popping in her ears, she found herself suddenly standing in her bedroom.

"I'm not impressed," she growled. "And I need a shower."

Behind her Eddie laughed, shedding his gear. "I love when we share things…"

**Edward**

A furry bluish-grey cat had wedged itself in between them and was rumbling away happily.

Stroking it, Edward smiled as the thing nudged itself deeper in the warmth between him and Selina's sleeping form.

He couldn't sleep. Not after a fight like theirs. Even the after party wasn't enough to drop him.

So while Lina slept, he remained wide awake, petting the cat who had invaded their bed seeking warmth.

He often wondered about the strays Selina kept. What sort of life they had? Where they had come from? How many brothers or sisters of theirs found good homes? What sort of poor luck had befallen the little beasts?

It was sad to him. The state of Selina's strays was sad to him.

He always had a soft spot for cats.

Unlike dogs, they were harder to gain loyalty, but if one took the time to carefully show love and kindness, a cat could be a much worthier companion. They weren't as demanding as dogs, they quietly existed in the wings and while their love wasn't a strong, open force, theirs was a love that was lasting.

It was no wonder Selina stole things, half of her money went into the care of the strays. She had heaping bowls of food in cat dishes all throughout her place, every soft surface had a napping cat and yet she never once complained about them. She never found them to be a nuisance.

Was he a stray?

Could he have been just another poor creature she found in an alley and brought home?

It didn't matter, he supposed. He still found himself wildly devoted to the woman.

How could he not be? She was perfection, body and mind.

He was a fortunate man. To - not only be brilliant - but to have a little corner in the world where he could feel like he belonged. To have a woman who made him feel worth something, who made him smile for no reason other than she was there.

He was lucky to be where he was. And Edward Nygma was not normally a lucky man.

The urge sprung up in him, pushing back all his neurosis and fear and he knew that she should at least know. She deserved to know. In the most basic and timeless way, Selina Kyle needed to know just how he felt about her, about the situation they were in.

Mindful of the cat between them, he leaned towards her, brushing long, dark hair off her face.

"Selina?" He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Kitten, wake up."

Edward watched her long lashes flutter against her pale skin as she woke up.

"What's wrong?"

Edward's hand shook as it tucked her hair behind her ear. "Nothing."

"Then don't wake me." She growled.

"I love you." He whispered.

The room was still.

Somewhere in Gotham a police siren whined.

The cat's purring between them seemed loud, like heavy machines at a dig site.

He watched what little he could make out of her face in the darkness, searching for some form of response.

A tiny, almost content smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and suddenly Edward understood why J.M. Barrie referred to it as a hidden kiss, it was intangible love written on their face. Something so broad and grand, summed up with only the faintest twitches of a muscle. It was the secret world of a woman's heart plastered on an inch by inch section of a woman's face.

Selina wouldn't say anything. He knew she wouldn't. But he didn't need her to say it, because it was there in the corner of her mouth.

She loved him too.

Leaning down, he kissed her softly, near her mouth, before slipping back to his original spot, distanced from her by a loud, warm cat.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

**Crane**

"And that's essentially why people stopped taking Memento Mori photographs en masse."

Before Jonathan Crane the two women sat in rapt attention, eyes wide.

"Have you ever seen a memento mori?" The brunette asked.

"I have."

"Are the dead guys all gross and stuff?" The blonde demanded.

"No, a lot of them were posed as though living. In fact a really good memento mori photograph is hard to find, because half the time you're not even aware that the subject is deceased. It's little things that will give one away, such as an awkward tilt of the head or limbs, or a vacant stare in the eyes."

"That's pretty cool." The blonde said.

"It's very telling of how we as a human beings used to view mortality in Victorian through to Edwardian times and even a little into the mid twentieth century depending on your location. It didn't die out in the south until at least the nineteen fifties." Crane went on. "The tradition of memento mori is a long and very interesting one."

"Were there ever any taken where the stiff is obviously dead?"

Crane smirked. "It's interesting you ask that, my dear…"