Okay, I'll admit right now, I'm a Batman comic geek. There, it's been said. That being said, I'll admit that I'm fully aware the following scene from the past of their first meeting isn't how it really went down...but I thought, meh, I'll try my own version. That's the beauty of fanfiction...

Robot521, you're fast becoming one of my favourite people on the interweb.

Violeta27, you already are one of my favourite people.

Everyone else, thanks for not bitching about nit-picky details.

People of Sweden, hålla det verkliga.

Sunday, 1995

**Selina**

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to this meeting." Lex Luthor announced as he paced the room in the top floor of Metropolis' Hilliard High Rise building.

Around the table sat several villains, mostly based in the Metropolis area, but there was at least one whom Selina recognized. She had never met him, but she had seen his face plastered across papers throughout Gotham.

The Riddler.

He sat across from her and down a little, chair tilted back, smirking arrogantly, his hand stroking his chin. It seemed as though he wasn't even listening as he was eyeing the ceiling above them, eyes narrowed ever so. Everything about the man screamed 'sense of self-superiority'.

"Now, I've chosen you eight men and women for your specialized skills. Some of you," he eyed Selina, then the Riddler, "have come a long way. But I feel it will be worth the trip in the end."

"I should hope so." The Riddler spoke.

All eyes turned to him.

For the first time Selina heard the man's voice. He sounded like someone who could do voice over work. His voice was a clear tone, light, upbeat, well read.

"From what I hear your plans begin and end with us," the Riddler went on.

"You wouldn't be here if my offer didn't pique some interest on your end, Mr. Riddler." Luthor said calmly.

"Naturally, however my only problem with your plan is how little you've actually invested in this. You brought us together in the hopes that we'd carry the weight of the mission, while the payout in the end doesn't seem to equal the work involved. Plus the hotel you put me up in doesn't even get the Discovery channel." Throwing his feet up onto the table before him, the Riddler leaned even further back in his chair and smiled. "But as you said, I wouldn't be here to hear you out if the offer wasn't tempting."

"I've been warned about your supreme arrogance." Luthor said.

"Good, then that means you should work twice as hard to please me." He reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip, pulling a face. "This coffee is terrible."

All the villains gathered looked to Luthor to see what he was going to do about the smart ass in the green suit.

Luthor merely pursed his lips and went on explaining the plan. When he finished up, the villains broke into small groups to discuss the plan, Selina headed off for the nearest exit. She was tired from the flight and wanted some time to sleep.

A form sidled up to her as she took the stairs. It was a forty floor trip down, but she was fit and wanted time to think about the plans laid out before her.

"You're the infamous Catwoman." The Riddler pointed out. He still carried his mug of terrible coffee and sipped at it casually as they jaunted down the stairs. "I've heard cat by name, cat by nature."

If she ignored him, he might go away.

"This deal isn't a good one." He said. "I'm packing up and taking my brilliance back home where I can put it to use on something of my own making."

She continued on in silence.

"Want to know why?" He asked after taking another sip of coffee.

"I could care less." She growled.

"Fair enough." He took another sip of coffee. "I may have over exaggerated back there."

Her curiosity was stroked. "You mean about the investment?"

"No, the coffee, it's not terrible. It's a strong, bitter brew, but it's palatable." Reaching up he set the empty mug on an emergency floodlight. "Now, let's try some proper introductions, my dear. My name is Riddler, you may call me the Riddler or just Riddler, I answer to both."

"I know who you are." She shot back.

He adjusted his tie. "My reputation precedes me, hn?"

"Hardly, I only know you're the Riddler because that's what Luthor called you. I've never heard of you until today." She lied, hoping to take his ego down a peg.

It seemed to have worked, because he scowled ever so.

"True genius is never recognized until it's too late." He replied sullenly.

Feeling a little better at deflating his puffed out chest some, she went on. "Are you from Metropolis?"

He looked a little flushed. "G-Gotham, I'm from Gotham City."

"Oh? Strange that I haven't heard of you then." She said slyly. With a self-satisfied smirk she left him standing in the stairwell somewhere between floors thirty-three and thirty-two.

Sunday, Now

"You wouldn't need to visit me so often if you learned simple clock care."

Behind the customer at the front of the line, Edward smirked.

"It's not my fault this damned watch needs winding every hour." The customer protested.

Temple Fugate sighed irritably. "It wouldn't need winding every hour if you maintain it." He snarled. "I'm done with your ignorance, get out."

And just like that the customer was dismissed, leaving a trail of grumbling obscenities behind him.

Edward stepped up to the counter.

"Yes?" Temple snarled, checking his pocket watch.

"I'm amazed you're still in business, Temple."

The man looked up, hazel eyes narrowed, before sharply snapping his watch closed. "Edward Nygma."

"How's work with the government?"

"I have no time for small talk," the man snapped. "But if you must know…my ideas were too radical for them." The man spoke quickly, efficiently, he never had time to mince words.

"Ah, I understand that perfectly."

"Are you here for my services?"

Leaning against the counter, Edward smirked. "Are you soliciting me, Temple?"

The man growled low under his breath. "I have no time for comical double entendres, Nygma. Do you have a watch to repair or not?'

Touching his waistcoat, Edward pulled his own pocket watch out and unclipping it, handed it over to the Clock King.

Taking the watch, Temple moved off into the back of the store, his pace a fast, fluid march. "If you have anything to say, you'd better say before I finish." He ordered.

Following the man into the backroom, Edward sat down across from the cluttered table from him. Much like his apartment, the work area was the only place cluttered with junk and tools, the rest of the office clean and smelling faintly of lemon.

"I need your help, Temple." Edward said, cutting to the chase.

Smoothly opening the back of the pocket watch, Fugate frowned. "No, my schedule is full."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"Money isn't my object in life, Nygma, and you know that." He tightened some gears.

"Well, I could throw a few more hours in the day for you…but in the long run it wouldn't make much difference…" Edward replied, leaning back in his chair. "In your heart of hearts, time will always be the same."

"You have precisely two minutes thirty-eighty seconds remaining before I complete my task. Are you so certain you want to waste your time making wise?"

Throwing his hands up in mock fear, Edward gasped. "Heaven forbid, Temple. What can I do for you to get you to open up your schedule for me?"

The Clock King's hands slowed ever so. He was thinking.

Edward took that moment to study the office further. In the corner by the door was a hat rack with Temple's signature black bowler hanging next to his black oxford suit jacket. He really didn't care much for Fugate, but in the long run he preferred the Clock King over the Cluemaster any day. Temple was actually quite a bit more like Edward than either man cared to admit.

"There's one task you could perform for me." Temple said.

"As long as it's legal."

"There's a woman," Temple began cautiously.

"Oh?" This came as a shock to the Riddler. Fugate didn't seem the type to take interest in man nor woman nor beast of any kind.

Dropping his head, Temple pushed himself deeper into his work. "She works in the flower shop across the street."

"No time to court, huh?"

"Of course not! She is a distraction! I want her fired from her shop."

Edward pushed his brows up. "You want me to a get a woman fired because she distracts you?"

"I cannot be distracted, Nygma. Time passes by constantly. I cannot afford distractions. I miss a second here or there, soon it culminates and I find a minute lost, then hours. And soon I find time has been wasted. Merely because some woman with a pretty face and charming smile is arranging irises in vases across the street."

"How dare she," Edward agreed.

"Mocking me is perhaps the worst waste of time you've ever committed," Temple said, snapping Edward's pocket watch closed and handing it over. "Get rid of the woman and then I will pencil you in."

Taking the watch, Edward nodded. "I'll see what I can do. How much?"

"I don't do it for the money, Edward."

Shaking his head, Edward moved out of the office. "…amazed you're still in business…"

Stepping out of the shop, he darted across the street.

Pushing into the florists was a pleasant change from the cold outside.

Inside among the posies, he scanned the shop for a worker. The infamous distraction.

A form knelt down low to his right, setting a bunch of gladiolas into a vase on the floor, their back to him.

"Excuse me?" Edward greeted. "I'm looking for a pretty distraction."

The woman pushed to her feet and turned.

Edward snorted in amusement. "One million people in this city…"

"Small world," Maggie Kyle greeted, a bright charming grin on her face.

"How have you been, my dear?" He asked, rocking back on one foot and planting his cane firmly on the floor.

"Good, much better than I was in Arkham."

"I'm happy for you, Maggie." He said.

"So, you're here to buy some flowers? For Selina?"

Edward smiled. "I'm not sure she wouldn't take that as a threat."

"She'd feel threatened by flowers?" Maggie asked.

"From me, yes. I tried it once and she didn't seem very amused." he pocketed his hands and glanced out the window to where Fugate's Watch Repair Shop sat. "Listen, my dear, you don't happen to arrange irises in vases in your window all that often, do you?"

She furrowed her brow delicately. "It's nearly spring…I have been promoting the springtime flowers. Why?"

"Neighbourhood complaint." He replied.

Glancing in the direction of the window, a look of understanding passed over her face. "It's the fellow from the clock shop, isn't it?" She laughed softly. "Sometimes, I look out the window while I'm working and catch him staring at me, but whenever I smile at him he gets an annoyed look on his face."

"Yes, Temple's always been an unfriendly sort." Edward said, his mind working sharply. He would appease Fugate however he could. "Would you like to go and meet him? We're old friends."

Maggie laughed. "I'm working."

"It's a mere dash across the narrow street, my dear. I think you and he might get along." He smiled his broad, charming smile.

With a look so much like Selina's, the woman tilted her head. "Are you trying to set me up with the man from the clock shop?"

"Of course not," Edward said. "I don't play matchmaker, it's demeaning to my intellect."

And then, just like her sister had entered the shop and replaced the brown haired sister, Maggie spoke, "you need something, don't you?"

Edward swallowed. "Uncanny."

So utterly unlike Selina, Maggie laughed openly then, smile sweet and bright to counterbalance her sister's dark, mysterious grin. "What's uncanny? That I can see the gears working?"

"It's uncanny, how you - like your sister - enjoy tormenting me." He replied gruffly. "You do enjoy it, don't you? Get a perverse shiver of delight, do we?"

Laughing outright at him, Maggie touched a hand to his chest. "Alright, can the act, Mr. Nygma. I'll go meet your friend. I do owe you one."

"You're a sweet girl, Maggie." He stopped her with a gentle hand. "Do you happen to have a watch on you?"

She removed the one on her wrist.

Taking it, Edward smiled. "Was this a gift?"

"No."

"Forgive me for this, then, my dear. Extenuating circumstances, you see." Taking the watch he dropped it on the floor and stepped heavily on it.

She gaped at him.

The little bell rang as they entered the shop.

Fugate, head bowed to his work, didn't even look up as they stepped up to the counter. "What?" He demanded after a long suffering sigh.

Maggie stuck her hand out firmly. "Maggie Kyle, it's good to finally meet you, Mr. Fugate."

The Clock King gave the offered hand a look of appal. "If you're not here for my services, please leave." Checking his pocket watch, he sniffed. "Now is the time for work, if you wish to make my acquaintance, you may do so in two hours, thirty-one minutes and eight seconds. At which time you'll have a ten minute window between closing the shop and leaving fo-"

Edward dropped the mangled watch on the counter. "We need serious repairs, Fugate."

Taking hold of the watch between his thumb and forefinger, the Clock King picked it up gingerly. A piece of the band flopped off and clinked on the glass countertop below.

Temple looked mildly horrified.

"I hope it can be saved." Edward purred innocently. "It was a gift from her sister. Very important to her."

Fugate scowled ever so, still eyeing the time piece with crossed eyes. "I might be able to save it, but it may take a while. I'll have to get scrap parts off of one of my other pieces..."

Setting all the money he had on him on the counter, Edward smiled. "Take your time."

Ignoring the cash, Fugate cupped the watch in his hands and scurried towards the office.

Touching a hand to Maggie's shoulder, Edward leaned in. "Follow him, if you will, my girl. Give him a little wink now and then. I'll watch your shop for you."

Maggie looked at him curiously.

"Please?"

She nodded.

"Thank you."

Standing behind the flower shop counter with his finger poised to his chin, Edward played over his plan, ensuring all pieces were in the proper places for the endgame.

It was obvious Temple Fugate found Maggie attractive, otherwise she wouldn't be such a distraction for him. If he could get the man to make peace with that fact, then he could get what he needed from the Clock King without getting Maggie fired and move on to the next phase of his plan, get what he needed from Crane and then have the Scarecrow owe him. Having a favour point with the Scarecrow was always a good thing.

"Not making enough to pay the rent, Nygma? Had to take a second job?"

At the cold, frigid tone, he snapped from his pondering to find Poison Ivy standing across the counter from him, her skin was flesh coloured with only a hint of it's natural green tint.

He tilted his head at her, embarrassed to be caught behind the counter of a flower shop by her. Anyone but the one woman he hated most in all of Gotham.

"Filling in for a friend." He returned cautiously, eyeing her.

Placing a hand on her perfectly curved hip, Ivy smirked wickedly. "Of course you are."

At her condescending tone, he drew himself together, preparing for the battle. The woman got his hackles up faster than any living creature could.

"I'm amazed a woman with a newborn can find the time to wander Gotham frivolously." He pointed out.

"Hn, cute. Well, why don't you run along into the backroom and get me my order?" She cooed.

Placing his hands on the countertop, he leaned forward ever so, mindful of the distance it took her to waft her pheromones. It took him years of succumbing to her goddamned tricks to know the proper distance. "I'd rather set this entire place ablaze."

"Do you really want to anger me in a flower shop, Ed?"

The potted ivy to his right began to grow, curling around it's wrought iron plant stand at an alarming rate.

It was a mere warning, Edward knew Ivy wouldn't cause a scene…not without proper provocation. Still he gripped his cane tighter, thankful he chose the one with the concealed sword for the day.

"Well, if you're not going to do your job, I guess I'll just help myself." As she made to move around the counter, Edward cut her off with his cane.

"Sorry," he said. "Employees only."

The ivy shot out, wrapping around his ankles and Edward drew his sword, slicing the vines off, before leaping over the counter to avoid further attack. He was just thankful they weren't her specialty vines or he'd never see the light of day again.

"Oh, vines already, huh? I guess that means I win this round." He taunted.

Ivy turned on him, her flesh green, hair wild. The potted plants of the shop came alive with a vengeance.

Near the front of the shop the door chimed and an elderly woman stepped in.

Passing by her, Edward handed off the sheath of his sword and fedora. "Hold these." Leaping and rolling, he avoided some of the worst of the plants, slicing off a majority of them.

Ivy, spotting a witness, retreated into the back to no doubt get her order and leave.

Still battling a few plants until they stilled, Edward struggled to catch his breath. He wasn't young enough to deal with Ivy like he used to.

Stepping back behind the counter, avoiding the vines that draped everywhere, he leaned against it casually, eyeing the old woman at the door who still held his sword sheath and hat.

"How may I help you?"

Carefully, she shuffled to the counter. "D-do you have daffodils?"

Taking the rest of his cane from her politely, he sheathed his sword and replaced his hat. "Cut or potted?"

Stepping into the clock shop that night after Maggie relieved him at the flower shop, Edward found Fugate closing up, his face a little flustered.

Smirking, the Riddler leaned against the doorway of the office and watched the Clock King prepare to leave for the night. "Well, I guess I'll file a complaint with Miss Kyle's boss…get her fired for you."

"Forget it, Nygma." Temple said. "I'll rearrange my schedule, give you an hour of my time." He sat down to do it, opening an electronic organizer and tapping away at the buttons.

"Oh?" Edward asked innocently. "Something change your mind?"

"Don't give me that." The man clipped. "What do you need?"

"I don't need an hour." He explained. "I just need you to build me one of your toys. I could do it myself, but it'd take me longer to figure out theory and engineering."

"Which device?"

"A matter transporter."

"Matter?"

"Living, organic matter. And the receptor has to be small enough to be concealed on a body."

"That small?"

"Can you do it?"

Temple pondered this. "I can make the tag receptor device the size of a freckle, but the transmitter station will have to be a bit larger."

Adjusting his plan swiftly, Edward nodded. "Can you make it the size of a suitcase?"

"I can make it the size of a baseball glove."

"I need it in four days."

"Four? No, no, no…this won't work."

"Make it four, Temple, and I'll see about working that pretty distraction into your schedule."

Fugate flushed a little. "Four days."

Beaming, Edward tipped his hat. "Good, I'm glad I didn't have to force you to comply."

"Force?"

"Goodnight, Temple."

By the time he left his office, it was nearly three in the morning and Edward was fairly certain he had joined the walking dead as he slogged his way up the stairs towards his apartment.

Since going back to work, he had shifted his night owl habits around and now found his body unaccustomed to being awake so late, but helping Crane acquire his matter transporter had set his own work behind and he wanted to keep caught up.

Fumbling with his key in the lock, he finally managed to open his door and stepped inside.

It was dark and still in his home, something he had expected. Selina would more than likely be gone by now. He'd see her again in a couple of weeks.

Locking up behind him, he hung up his hat and coat, peeling off his gloves and setting them on his hall table alongside his keys, he moved off down the dark hall towards his bedroom, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

Heading for his closet straight off, he carefully opened the door so as not to wake the batch of kittens and their mother. Hanging his tie, he removed his suit jacket and hung that as well, before turning to drop his cufflinks in the dish on his dresser.

Falling into his nice soft bed sounded almost orgasmic to him.

Untucking his shirt, he glanced at the bed and found a dark head of hair tucked deep into his bedding.

Moving across the room, he took hold of his blanket to pull it down far enough to find Selina curled up sleeping.

"Hn." He supposed she decided to stay one more night.

"You smell like the hospital." She mumbled sleepily, before opening her eyes.

Easing onto the side of the bed, he smirked. "That's because I live a secret life as a brilliant surgeon."

"Liar," she purred.

"I was in a place cleaner than most in Gotham. It was a perfectly lovely, sterile little place." He said. "Decided to stay for one more night?"

"My ribs still hurt, I figured it wouldn't kill me to just get some rest and your bed is comfier than mine."

Touching a hand to her thick, silky hair, he stroked it out of her face. "Well, between you and the ten cats at your side, someone has to make room for me."

"Good luck with that, Ed."