Okay, first! Before I thank my wonderful reviewer's, I must apologize for being gone. I couldn't help it. Denmark called up and when Denmark calls, you go out and get it started. You know? Anyways, I'm back and I'm sick and it's all my fault for being less awesome then Denmark and not being able to handle the sheer awesome that is Denmark.

Hush2.0 - Just because you enjoyed them so much, the following scene is for you!

NURSE J0Y - Dang it! I just rushed Finland out of my trap, now Norway...*sigh* Alright, all you Scandinavian countries listen up! I love you! I do! But Sweden owns my heart, because...well they...they just make me happy. It's not you, it's me. There was that one summer when they swam by me, they got a cramp and I ran by them, and got their suit damp...*sigh* Summer days, drifting away...

Robot521 - Your review made me giggle. Doing doughnuts in the Riddler's bandwagon seems like a good idea, but just know that his bandwagon is a long, steep slope into the shady grey area of postcard collecting. You heard me.

rockpunk92 - Your review was fan-fucking-tastic! And Conan O'Brien cares about Finland...and not just because he looks like Finnish Prime Minister Tarja Halonen either.

me-ladie - Mwaahaha, today it's Riddler/Catwoman tomorrow it's the world, Pinky!

Violeta27 - Seriously. You'd be surprised how many people find sexual symbols and interpretations in The Wizard of Oz...there's a whole site devoted to it.

bleedy - Hey, thanks a metric ton (that's .98 of a ton in Imperial if you're into that sort of thing)! I really hope these stories invoke some more closet Riddler/Catwoman fans to come out of the woodwork and put up their tasty little stories...that made me sound like a fanfiction vampire didn't it? *shifty eyes* I'm totally not...

Renny777 - You want Finland, it's yours! You...you have to actually move there and live there for a while to become a Finnish citizen, then run in an election, then be voted into power before you can be Prime Minister, but...well...it's yours after you do all that.

SavL7 - Thanks, I'm not Eddie or anything, but everyone enjoys having their ego stroked. And a review from the likes of you is a pretty fancy feather in my cap, I'll tell ya!

Chapter Eleven: Blemishes & Bugs

Day Nineteen: Part One

**Crane**

It was barely seven in the morning and Crane was already prepared for battle.

Before him lay his costume, his satchel of bombs, his scythe, all spread out on the table, arranged for his inspection.

He wouldn't say he got overly excited before battle, but he certainly looked forward to it. Not so much the fighting, but the fear that came from both sides. It always hung thick over a war torn field like smoke from the cannons and he drank it in like a man lost in the desert.

Crane calmed when others trembled and that was all part of his disease. He was a sick man, and he knew it, but he was a happy man when things turned to tragedy.

Running a finger along the side of his scythe, he studied the finely ground edge.

Across the room a blonde head peeked in on him. It drew back and was joined by a dark head.

He crooked a finger at the Riddler's girls inviting them inside.

They entered together, dressed for the day in their costumes, duffle bags in hand.

"Hey there, professor." Query greeted. "The boss told us to meet him here later, do you mind if we wait around?"

"If you're quiet." He replied.

Echo smiled. "We can be quiet, professor."

Crane watched with mild amusement as the girls settled on the floor and pulled a massive amount of guns, ammunition and cleaning equipment out of their bags. As he went back to organizing his own things, they quietly cleaned their guns nearby.

He wondered how much the Riddler would mind if the Scarecrow took control of the girls' contracts? They could be so beautiful as his own.

Then again Edward wasn't much for sharing.

Glancing up, Crane caught them both eyeing him.

They looked back at their work quickly.

Confused, he turned his back on them. It didn't help, he still felt their eyes on him, boring a hole into his back.

"What?" He demanded.

"We were hoping you'd tell us more about medical oddities while we worked." Nina said.

Sighing, he turned on the girls. "Medical oddities? Why would I tell you about medical oddities when I could be telling you about the side effects of radiation poisoning?"

They beamed at each other and scooted closer, uprooting their entire gun cleaning operation to the base of his chair to clean while he talked.

**Bruce Wayne**

Ignoring Alfred who stood at the top of the metal stairs with a tray of breakfast, Bruce moved past him, heading for his command centre.

He had been busy all night putting out small fires the Joker had started (literally they were small fires) and had missed his surveillance post. He was very interested to listen in on all the things he had missed and had recorded while out.

For instance he was very interested to hear what the little bug he had planted among a sea of pearls on a string of them, picked up in Selina Kyle's apartment.

"At your age, Master Bruce, do you think it's wise to miss out on the most important meal of day?" Alfred asked dryly.

Bruce slumped at his command console. "In a while, Alfred. I have some surveillance to do first."

Slipping on the headset, he sorted through the time log on the screen before him. He supposed it was low of him to spy on her, but he hated the tickling feeling at the base of his skull that told him something was hinky about the whole situation with Selina Kyle. The near death, the flat tires, someone very dangerous was warning him away and if someone dangerous were at his heels, then that meant that someone dangerous was giving him this eerie feeling.

Pulling up the file, he played it.

There was voices, but the pearls were probably too far to catch them.

Bruce filtered the background noise, using a program to sort out the voices from everything else, then enhancing the audio.

Of course, nothing turns me on more than that ugly sweater of yours.

Furrowing his brow, Bruce turned up the volume on the audio. That voice was eerily familiar.

It's comfy, Ed.

Quirking a brow, he pulled up a file to match the voice, just to double check the validity of his find.

Pulling up a file marked 'Riddler Audio Riddles #274', Bruce placed it above the track he was currently listening to and continued the playback.

I wasn't teasing you, love. I adore that sweater. You were wearing it that day in the park, do you remember?

The program worked, noting tones, inflections and matching them together.

Riddle me this, Bat! The riddle file played as the two audio files synced up. I am the world, but you can hold me in your palm. Nothing is greater than I, but so easily am I destroyed.

Eventually the files began to merge, creating something oddly enchanting as disjointed words settled amongst their brethren. As the files matched, the program brought up Edward Nygma's file, the words deceased scrawled across his mugshot.

Bruce removed his headphones. No one stayed dead in Gotham, this was old news to him, but if the Riddler had returned why was he biding his time? By this time the man would already be scattering riddles all around Gotham. So why was he keeping to himself?

Of course, it was the suspicious fire at his apartment. Someone had a hand in the 'death' of Edward Nygma. But who? And what the hell was going on?

Nothing terrified Bruce more than a villain acting out of character. When they were predictable it was easy, but this was…this was something else entirely.

Batman hated the idea of the Riddler returning. No villain had ever gotten as far as Edward Nygma in delving into Batman's identity. And as selfish as it was, Bruce breathed a lot easier when he believed the Riddler to be dead, but now...?

Then again, even deeper down, Bruce Wayne was a little disturbed by the fact that the rumours had been true. That somehow Selina Kyle one of the rare, few people who knew his secret, had gotten herself involved in the one man who was able to manipulate and fool people with the greatest of ease.

The woman wasn't a fool, but something bothered Bruce about the fact that Edward Nygma was hanging around her. That silver tongued madman had always been fond of her, but there had to be something more than what was there? Something the Riddler was doing just for himself.

Disturbed from his thoughts by Alfred pushing a glass of orange juice on him, Bruce smirked as the butler took an interest in the man on the screen before them.

"The Riddler, sir?"

"Not as dead as we thought." He replied. Picking up the headset again, Bruce prepared to eavesdrop on the conversation further. If he could figure something out, he could easily prevent the Riddler from rising and maybe save Selina another broken heart.

**Selina**

He was already up by the time she woke.

Sitting in the same chair as the day before, in the same position, his face as even, his fingers steepled to his chin in the very same manner as the Riddler of yesterday.

Moving to perch daintily on the couch, she watched him for almost an hour, before the urge to return to her bed called. She just wanted to curl up and nap all day.

Eddie said nothing as she wandered back into the bedroom for a small cat-nap before the night came, but after a few minutes of her lying on her side, she felt the bed dip as he sat beside her.

"Feeling ill?" He asked.

"Tired." She replied simply.

He pulled off a glove and reached a bare hand out to touch her forehead. "You're a little warm, but a touch is hardly accurate."

"I'm not sick," she insisted.

"I think you are."

Stubbornly, she rolled over and out of his reach.

Patiently he moved around the bed to sit at her side once more. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do, Selina." He said firmly. "But if you're going to insist on following me tonight, I want to stress the fact that I want you to stay out of it unless you really think I need you in the fray."

She ignored him, feeling that there was really no need for her confirm the fact that she had heard him the first time. If he was going to sound like a broken record then all she could do was ignore it.

"Of course you could always just sit this one out, kitten." He added, his tone slow and almost measured.

"What's it going to take to prove to you that I'm okay?" She growled. "Do you want me to get up and do a little dance for you?"

As she moved to sit up, Eddie chuckled and placing his hand on her forehead, pushed her back onto the bed. "Let's not get angry, my dear." He said. "I'm merely pointing out the fact that you seem ill to me." After a pause, he added. "I'm sure if it was anything serious that I should know about, you'd tell me." Sharp, twinkling blue eyes leveled on her. "Wouldn't you?"

She glared at him. "What are you getting at, Ed?"

With a tiny smile, he pushed to his feet, adjusting his tie as he did so. "Nothing at all, kitten. Just speaking in riddles, I suppose. Now get off your well shaped posterior, my queen, and get showered and dressed. We're going out for the day."

Selina's withering look lasted for a few minutes after the Riddler left her room, before she sighed heavily and got up and out of bed, heading for her shower.

**Ivy**

Setting Victor down for his nap was one of the most blissful moments of her day and Ivy loved that it occurred at least three times during a day so that she had three chances to do it.

In sleep her son was so beautiful, almost God-like in his perfection.

He emerged from his pod with slate grey eyes, but they were slowly adopting hues of his father's blue in them. But closed they were just a gorgeous. Long lashes brushing his chubby little cheeks, cheeks that were blushed with a soft pink. His dainty mouth was pursed and smooth as crimson silk. She had wanted a girl, but Ivy had come to accept that she wouldn't trade Victor in for anything, he was hers. A perfect little blossom waiting to bloom into a charming boy, then grow into a dashing young man.

Behind her Victor's father cleared his throat politely.

Ivy straightened and turned.

Victor Senior watched her from behind his sub-zero helmet, before motioning them out into the hall beyond the nursery to talk away from the slumbering infant.

She preceded him into the hall.

"He's going to be a handsome man, isn't he?" She asked.

Fries smiled. "I think so."

"And he's smart too, isn't he?" She went on. It was true, with the exception of Victor's unnatural fondness for his Riddler bear, the boy was a clever baby. He looked about at the world with quick eyes that never missed a thing.

"Pam," Fries broke in politely. "It's not my place to say, but…you don't have to follow through with Edward's plans. You don't have to go out tonight."

Ivy shifted. She was never comfortable with being told she couldn't do things.

"I just feel that stirring up trouble with the Joker now may come back to haunt you later." He went on.

"The Joker is dangerous," she agreed. "But that's why I think it's time to put an end to his reign. He's been flitting around Gotham too long and he's too unpredictable. I won't raise Victor in a world where that bastard clown roams the streets."

"We none of us are saints, Pamela." Fries pointed out in his soft, fatherly way.

She nodded and crossed her arms. "Well, believe what you will, but there's an unspoken way of things in the underworld and you know it."

"Is that the reason or are you after the Joker purely because of Harley Quinn?"

Ivy refused to respond to the question. In fact his audacity was downright grating on her nerves.

Fries went on, still in his gentle, but commanding way. "I believe Edward's hubris may be his downfall."

"Then why are you helping him?" She snapped.

"I'm just a blacksmith who provides the tools, there's a difference. You're putting your own life at risk for the Riddler's plans." He spread his hands out. "What if something happens to you? What would Victor do without a mother?"

"Don't tell me what I'm doing is wrong, Doc." She said. "I'm doing it for all the right reasons."

Bowing his head apologetically, Fries sighed. "Then promise me you'll be careful? Don't take any unnecessary risks."

Ivy smirked ever so. "Sure thing, Doc."

**Edward**

They took the bus.

He wasn't sure why the urge to take the bus hit him. Public transportation was one of the things he hated most when it came to Gotham.

But they were in their old couple disguise and it seemed fitting that they ride the bus.

Beside him Selina was quiet and Edward wondered if she was feeling ill again.

Turning his head, he studied her quietly.

Even wrinkled, even with her white immaculately curled wig, even with the painted on liver spots, she was beautiful.

He marvelled at what she would look like as an older woman. Selina Kyle would no doubt age gracefully.

Edward imagined she'd become like some faded movie starlet, still glamorous, but with a touch of grey to her. He almost envisioned Selina as a spitting image of Gloria Swanson as she aged, still beautiful, but accepting of the wear time took on her.

If his father was any indicator as to how Edward would age, he imagined he'd be a skinny, shrivelled old miser who had deep scowl lines and watery, cataract filled eyes.

Thinking of his father only brought up the image of the man's death mask. The fear in his eyes, the helpless tilt of his nasty mouth like a gaping fish out of water.

Looking back, he was sure the old man regretted all the things he did and didn't do to his son as the once frightened little boy popped back into his life as a damaged young man just to hold a pillow over his face. It wasn't a clever or all too brilliant way for Edward to kill the monster that had haunted his youth, but it was definitely a liberating moment.

The old man was going to die anyways, cancer had seen to that, but Edward had no real desire to let the bastard die that way. It had to be at his hand.

He remembered calmly striding out of the hospital room while adjusting his tie and smiling at the pretty nurses after the kill. So young and cocky then, wasn't he?

The breaks on the bus screamed like a rusty gate as it stopped short and Edward's arm immediately wrapped around Selina's midsection protectively.

"What's wrong?' Someone asked the driver.

"What happened?" Others repeated.

The driver, an older, heavily made up, but pretty woman turned around in her seat, her face pale. "I think…just everyone remain calm." She pleaded, opening the doors.

Something was up.

As the driver left, everyone looked amongst themselves, before someone at the front who was standing said. "I think the car in front of us hit a cat or something."

Beside him, Selina was on her feet and out the door before the man barely finished speaking.

Edward followed her down the stairs and out. They raced around the car in front of the bus, where both the bus driver and the driver who must have hit the poor thing knelt around it. Both drivers looked horrified and confused.

Selina fell to her knees.

The poor tuxedo cat was alive, but yowling weakly.

Looking up at him with watery violet eyes Selina pleaded. "Do something, Eddie. He's suffering."

Not really sure what to do, he knelt as well, not caring about his disguise. Scratching his chin, he eyed the mass of fur and blood, before removing his raggedy tweed suit jacket. "Here, let's carefully get him into the jacket." He said.

Around them passengers from the bus gathered as well as onlookers from the street.

Reaching out, without any care about the blood, Eddie helped Selina get under the poor thing, moving it slowly, carefully onto the jacket.

"Get a taxi, Lina." He commanded, as he wrapped the jacket around the cat.

The driver who hit the cat spoke. "I'll drive you. A veterinary hospital, right? Where is the nearest one?"

"Go down this street, turn left, pass two lights, then right and I think it's just around there somewhere." Someone from the bus shouted.

Picking up the lump of cat, Edward hopped into the driver's backseat, Selina sliding into the spot beside him.

The entire way to the veterinary hospital, the driver kept repeating. "I didn't mean to. It just ran out."

Edward, holding the cat to his chest to give it some comfort, eyed Selina at his side.

She was pale and drawn and looked frail under all the make-up, eyes zeroed in on the mass in his arms.

When they reached their destination all three raced into the hospital.

Selina slammed the counter with her hand. "We need help! There's a cat here!"

One of the veterinary assistants came out of the back slowly, curiously.

"It's been hit with a car, please hurry?" She shouted.

The assistant motioned to someone in the room they had just emerged from and an elderly vet emerged.

"What's the damage?" He asked, leading them into a back room.

"We don't really know," Edward provided calmly. "We just picked him up and drove over here straight away."

He eased the jacket onto the table the vet motioned to carefully.

Opening the mass of blood and cloth carefully, the vet took a look at the cat with furrowed brows.

"Okay, you'll have to wait in the waiting room while we assess the damage." He said, motioning them out and the two assistants waiting at the door in.

Edward pulled Selina from her spot eyeing the cat and the blood, out back into the waiting room.

He made sure she sat before he took a seat at her side.

The driver lingered nearby.

She was young, perhaps only just got her license, her eyes were wide and watery, her face just as pale as Selina's.

Eyeing the two, he sighed lightly and waited.

After what seemed like hours the vet emerged, he looked grim.

Edward felt Selina's hands slide around his upper arm and squeeze tightly.

"The damage is pretty severe," the vet began softly. "It'd almost be cheaper to euthanize the poor thing than to-"

"If you can save him then goddamned it save him!" Selina growled. "Money doesn't matter!"

Quirking a brow, the vet eyed Edward who between Selina's rage and the young driver's panicked silence, probably seemed like the more rational thinker in the room.

Edward nodded. "We'll pay for the surgery."

"Okay, no time to argue." The man replied, moving back into the room with the cat.

After a few more minutes of silent waiting, Edward noticed the young driver had seated herself far from them and was sobbing almost hysterically. The shock had passed.

He wasn't sure what to do, so he turned to Selina who was glaring at the door where the operation was taking place, almost willing the doctor to save the cat with her mind.

Clearing his throat, he addressed the young woman. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

She began saying something, but it was lost to her sobs.

Trying to find something in common with a teenaged girl, Edward looked about for something to take her mind off the situation.

Unfortunately all he came up with in a veterinary hospital waiting room was animals and he was sure that wouldn't do the trick.

"How old are you?" Selina broke in quietly.

Edward exhaled almost happily. He dodged a bullet.

"Eighteen," she sobbed.

"You just got your license, hm?" Lina went on.

The girl nodded.

She looked a real mess, the kind of mess fair skinned people became when they cried. All ruddy in all the wrong places, enhanced by the pallor of their skin.

"I remember getting my license. My first picture on my license I had a break out and it was right in the middle of my forehead." Selina said.

The girl eyed her, before smiling ever so.

"Then the first time I was caught speeding the cop who pulled me over was super cute and I was so embarrassed about him seeing the photo I didn't even worry about the ticket."

A tiny, cough like laugh escaped the girl and she rubbed at her eyes with the long sleeves of her sweater. "Are you and your husband heading to a costume party?" She asked.

It was only then that Edward realized they were still in their disguises, but using their own voices.

Selina smiled. "Yeah. My sister's turning thirty, she thought it'd be a hoot if we all dressed up like old people."

"That sounds pretty cool."

"My name is Veronica." Selina said.

"Casey."

When both women turned their eyes on him, Edward smiled politely. "Mark."

"So what's your best subject in school, Casey?" Selina asked, keeping the girl's mind off the cat.

"Drama, I guess."

"Do you want to be an actress when you graduate?"

The girl laughed softly. "A dancer, actually."

"Modern or ballet?"

"Ballet. But I like all kinds of dancing, I guess."

Tuning out the two women, Edward eyed a nearby poster for flea dip. He noticed a spelling mistake in the finer print and scoffed in amusement. His relaxing day spent wit Selina was shot to hell, but he could at least walk away with one amusing blip on an otherwise dreary radar screen.