Robot521, would it shock you if I were to say, I don't care much for the Joker? Shocked? He's just too overused. However, writing him is loads of fun. And I meant every word about you, you're a very kind person. Don't ever lose that.

Tuesday, 2002

**Selina**

The Nebu Sphinx.

A piece of ancient statuary in 24 carat gold that had been shipped from Egypt to Gotham on tour was what really started the whole mess.

How could she not be tempted? She was broke, bored and it was so rare.

She had crept into the basement where the Gotham Art Gallery had been working on restoring it, feet flying over the porcelain tile like whispers.

The security system and guards weren't a problem, a little hacking here, some wire cutting there, nice heavy boots and years of training, and she was in, moving through the shadows of the basement towards the room where they kept the piece.

Selina was in the middle of picking a simple lock on the door into the restoration area, when soft footfalls on the tile caught her attention.

Knowing that it couldn't be one of the guards that she had already neutralized, she took cover around a nearby corner.

Carefully moving up to the edge, she peeked around the corner and spied a troop of men marching down the hall towards her.

Pointed chin, green bowler with a purple band, gold question mark cane pushing said hat back.

The Riddler was leading the pack.

She watched him wander down the hall in an all too cavalier fashion, cane twirling, thugs trailing behind him like four eighty thousand pound elephants.

He took three more steps beyond her hiding place, before pausing, his back to her.

The bowler angled and his sharp jaw line entered Selina's view as he glanced over his shoulder.

She ducked a little lower into the shadows.

"I know you're only just amending to opposable thumbs, but please, gentleman, do be careful with that box, hn?"

The apes grunted a confirmation, before dropping a brightly wrapped green present with a thud. Tapping the floor with his cane in irritation, Eddie sighed, before moving around the hall like a peacock strutting.

"I swear it's like tending a flock of geese at times." He growled.

"Sorry, boss."

"Sorry is a game for children, Mark, pick it up."

As he studied the men as they attempted to pick up the box from where they had dropped it, Selina studied him.

Tall, lean, standing with an air of arrogance, one hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket, the other resting on the crook of his cane.

Biding her time until the man passed, she found her eyes drifting over his form, observing him for the first time in great detail. Like watching a nature program and seeing a meerkat up close and personal and discovering they had tiny spots on their chests.

Eddie was like that meerkat now under gaze.

She had often wondered things about him, she did that with everyone in Gotham's underworld. Why did the Riddler wear gloves all the time? Why was the Penguin oddly captivating despite his rotund form? How come Two-Face seemed more sad than angry?

Watching as the Riddler stuck a long leg out before him and tapped his foot, Selina smirked.

As though he felt her eyes on him, he turned his face towards her shadows, electric eyes meeting hers.

Did he see her?

He smirked ever so and twirled his cane.

Of course he did.

Tuesday, Now

He had just wrapped up a case involving a brother who was cheating with his sister-in-law, typing up the report for his own case files, when Jim Gordon stepped into his office unannounced.

Right away Edward knew the meeting wouldn't end well.

"Commissioner." Edward greeted politely.

The man looked around the office, despite his knowledge that Gordon absolutely hated him, Edward was pleased to note the man wasn't snooping, but merely getting a feel for his new surroundings.

"Edward," the man began, his voice gruff and commanding.

"Checking in with the riff-raff, Jim?" He asked, throwing his feet up on his desk and leaning his chair back on two legs.

Gordon eased into the chair across from him. "Cut the shit, Nygma. It pains me to see dirt like you out and about free as you please."

Pointing a finger at the man, Edward smirked. "It takes a lot of chutzpah to walk into a man's office and call him dirt to his face. I like your style, have I ever mentioned that?"

"Let me finish, Nygma. It pains me that dirt like you walks my city without any chains keeping you in check, but what pains me more is that grinning son of a bitch coming back to Gotham with the mein of a King returning from battle."

This was news to Edward, but he kept that to himself.

"Having some troubles with the Joker, Jim?"

"I need to know where he's keeping himself."

Swiveling the chair so that his legs rested on the corner of his desk and his elbow leaned against his blotter, Edward studied the moustached older man. "Sounds an awful lot like a favour..."

"I was," the man paused to shift in his seat, "hoping you might be able to help me out some in exchange for some leniency in your parole conditions."

"Didn't turn out so well last time, as I recall," he replied.

Gordon sighed deeply. "Edward, I'll be honest with you. I'm willing to make a deal with you in order to get the Joker, which is about as appealing to me as cutting my own face off with a shard of glass. But I want the Joker behind bars and if making nice with you it what it will take, then I'm all for it."

"Let me piece this all together, Jim. You come into my office without an appointment, call me dirt, then ask me to calmly lay face down on the bascule for you?" Edward smiled. "I'd better be getting one hell of a deal!"

He could see how the man across from him was finding absolute distaste at the entire ordeal and it pleased Edward to no end to watch Gordon squirm.

"We do surveillance now and then on ex-con's like yourself, Edward. Enforcing the terms of their parole under the state laws."

Edward stroked his chin with his hand, something he did when nervous.

A photograph was slid across his desk, skidding to a halt as it bumped against his elbow.

There he was in grainy black and white - clichéd and a little trite - in the middle of the park, holding Selina tightly, their mouths locked.

"Jesus, Gordon." He snarled, more angry at himself than the Commissioner.

"Associating with any of the known scum from Gotham's underworld is a violation of your parole, Edward."

Drawing himself together, Edward frowned. "While we're insulting close personal friends, Jim, I have a few words about that bat-shaped girlfriend of yours…"

Gordon pursed his lips. "I'd watch that tongue of yours, Nygma. I'm willing to ignore this indiscretion for you, if you do me this one favour. Catwoman is a two-bit thief, but she's not an immediate threat to anyone's life."

Sighing, Edward ground his teeth. If he did snoop around for the Joker's whereabouts on behalf of the GCPD, it would most definitely be the last thing he ever did, but being put back into Arkham on a parole violation...no. It would ruin his pride to be locked up for something so minor.

"I'll see what I can find out for you."

Reaching into his pocket, Gordon pulled out a film roll and held it up. "You do that and this is yours."

"How wonderful, like a treat for an obedient mutt." He muttered, pushing to his feet to shake the man's hand warily. "If I find him, you'll put him away for good?"

"I will." Gordon replied taking his hand.

"And you'll leave me and the Cat alone?"

"Yes."

As they shook, Edward smirked. "Why do I feel like Faust right now?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

"You can't go in there."

Edward cautiously eyed the behemoth standing in his way from under the brim of his green fedora.

"Tell the Penguin that E. Nygma is here to see him."

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Penguin?"

Adjusting his cufflinks, Edward scoffed. "I never make appointments. Just inform him of my presence."

Crossing his arms flexed the gorilla's upper torso in a way Edward knew had soft women easily impressed, however since he was not a soft woman, he raised his cane and settled the heavy brass question mark against the beasts' right pectoral.

"Sir, I am going in one way or another, I would just hope that we could do this the civilized way."

The man shifted his weight and Edward noted that he favoured his left knee a little. Previous injury perhaps? Lucky encounter for him.

Gazing stonily at each other, neither one relented, before Edward sighed.

"Very well. Good evening to you, sir." Turning, Edward took three steps, hefting his cane, he took hold of it in both hands almost thoughtfully, before spinning around. Striking the man behind his left knee, dropped the monster instantly, howling in pain.

Calmly, Edward knelt at the man's side. "I'm horribly sorry. Sometimes this damned cane just has a mind of it's own." He chuckled then. "Well, I'll just head inside and get you some help…" He stepped over the man and into the Penguin's newest nightclub.

Inside the club, Edward noted a few of the 'dancers' up on stage practicing and smiled almost arrogantly as they paused their rehearsing to watch him wander by. He tapped his cane to the brim of his hat at them politely and carried on, swaggering on long legs past the bartender who continued to wash a glass as though he hadn't even seen a man in green and purple wander by.

Taking the dark stairs to the office cautiously, Edward pushed open the door as quietly as possible and slipped into the equally dark office.

Nothing could be distinguished in the room for a moment, while his eyes adjusted to the change from some light to very, very little light. In fact the only light that was in the room came from under the door to the bathroom across the floor from where Edward stood.

Moving across the lush carpet, the Riddler eased himself down on top of Oswald's desk and waited patiently in the dark for his old…acquaintance.

After a while, the rotund Penguin waddled out of the bathroom, puffing away happily on his ciggie, the black holder clenched in between his teeth. In the rectangle of light from the bathroom the Penguin's shadow looked long and lean, not at all like the man himself.

"Hello, Oswald," Edward greeted, pushing spryly to his feet.

Monocle falling from it's place, the Penguin made a 'qua' of surprise, before scowling. "Edward," he snarled, casually wiping his fallen monocle on his shirtfront, before replacing it.

"Good friend, look not upon me, but the me that I can be."

Penguin scowled somewhat, his ciggie drooping. "Who said that?"

Edward looked around. "Me. I'm standing right here."

"What do you want, Edward?" Waddling over, the Penguin eased into his chair behind his desk regally, still puffing away.

"Always get right to the point, don't you?" Edward inquired, once more perching on Oswald's desk.

Leaning forward, the bird-like man smiled, it could have been a charming smile if it wasn't so dripping with evil intent. "I do. And I hate time wasting."

"I understand, I was just with a fellow like that the other day." He picked up a letter opener and studied the ivory handle. "What can you tell me about the Joker's return?"

"What do you care?"

"I like to know which area of the city to avoid."

Leaning back in his chair, there was a look of complete understanding that drove across Oswald's features. "I see. Well, you are the only one who can tolerate Crane for more than two minutes, it's only natural you'd worry about him."

Taking the opportunity the Penguin had given him for an excuse, Edward leapt on it. "Sometimes even that's pushing it."

"I'll tell you one thing, between old friends, Edward. There's been some activity at the old toy factory by the docks."

Edward set the letter opener down and pushed up off the desk. "Thank you, Ozzie."

"Hold up, Edward. I need a little favour from you, now."

"Tit for tat, huh?"

The Penguin chuckled. "Don't look so nervous. I just want you to do a little something for me."

"My fear has upgraded to horror, Oswald."

"Now, it's nothing illegal, don't worry. I just want you to deliver something for me."

"Seems I've been doing more favours for old friends than I've ever done in my entire life this week…"

Reaching into his desk drawer, the Penguin pulled out a brightly wrapped gift. "I want you to deliver this to my new godson."

Eyeing the gift with a mild look of horror, Edward sneered. "I'm assuming only Ivy would be mad enough to make you the godfather to her hellspawn?"

Oswald beamed. "She did."

"You are aware that Ivy and I are like fire and gasoline?"

"I am."

Scooping up the gift, Edward nodded. "Well, that being said, I nearly died once this millenia, why not try my luck at a second go? I'm off." Pausing at the door, he turned back. "Oh, your bouncer may need medical attention…I'm afraid he wasn't accommodating."

"Look, I could really use you by my side."

In his apartment, strewn across his sofa reading one of his many books, Selina Kyle peered over her borrowed reading glasses at him. "I thought you didn't like Ivy…"

"I…just feel that making a pilgrimage to her…darling son is…I…" he sighed, the lies tasted chalky in his mouth. "Ozzie wants me to deliver a gift to the boy and I think Pamela would be more accommodating if you were at my side."

Smiling, she set aside both the book and the glasses, to push to her feet. "We're not supposed to be out in public together, Eddie."

"Aside from our trip into the world of normalcy?" He inquired.

"That was different."

He pocketed his hands. "In what way?"

"It was my idea." She replied playfully.

"You're a horrible woman." He pointed out calmly.

Pursing her lips in thought, she moved around him. "Well, I'll agree if you do something for me."

"Another favour…why not? Just call me the Giving Tree!"

Thrusting her hand through his hair, she used her other to pull him in close with his tie. "Let me cut your hair, Giving Tree."

Nose to nose with her, Edward scowled. "Sometimes logic just doesn't apply to you."

"It's getting floppy and you could use a trim." She argued.

"Suddenly everything makes sense," he remarked. "I've entered the twilight zone. This entire week is just a mad dream…or I'm dead. I could be dead."

Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him. "I just miss your boyish hair, Ed, you're starting to look like a well dressed woman."

In response to her affection, he slid his own arms around her waist and pulled her in tighter. "Fine, you can cut my hair, my queen. But then I'm telling everyone about the freckle." He teased.

"I'd deny it." She replied lightly.

Unwrapping his arms, he stepped away from her and reached into his breast pocket. "Then I may have to show them this Polaroid…"

She gasped. "You pervert! When did you take that?"

Edward laughed as she lunged at the photograph of the freckle he had taken, holding it high over his head out of her grasp. "I may be a pervert, but I'm also a very tall man, my dear."

Despite her overly theatrical frown, she laughed and continued to make an attempt at acquiring the incriminating evidence of their relationship.

"It's good to have dirt on people, isn't it?" He teased. The irony of him extorting her while Gordon extorted him was not at all lost on him.

Hopping onto his back, she hung there like a koala for a moment, before continuing her assault.

Keeping the picture out of her reach easily, Edward sighed. "I was hoping you'd get a little more rough. How disappointed I am."

Her teeth sank into his earlobe and he yelped.

"Kinky enough for you?" She purred into the very ear she had just mangled.

Angling his face towards hers, their noses bumped and he chuckled. "I'll sell the photo back to you at a price."

"I don't blackmail easily," she replied.

"Oh, but this may prove to be worth it." He stated.

Selina laughed again, it wasn't the laugh of a thief or a woman who dressed in black PVC and carried a whip, it was a feminine thing that dug into the core of Edward's baser instincts and buried itself there.

He pressed a kiss to her mouth as she continued to dangle from him, savouring the taste of her as her slightly wet lips brushed against his.

Taking hold of his tie from behind him, she deepened the kiss, still draped half over his shoulder.

Knowing exactly what she had in mind, he dropped the photograph onto the floor and pulled her onto the sofa with him, pinning her under his body almost roughly.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat as their lips parted.

"Mind the ribs, Eddie." She commanded.

"I think if you can dangle from my back like a sloth, then you can certainly handle my attentions." He returned, sliding a gloved hand up her thigh. "Now, shall we open negotiations or not?"

"For a picture of a freckle that could be anyone's? I'm not sure." She replied, wrapping her arms around him loosely.

He blinked down at her. "You're not happy unless you're giving me grief, are you?"

"Am I being hard on you, Eddie?" She teased.

"I may cry," he replied, getting into the act. He was shocked into silence, when she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I'm not entirely certain you're not insane, my queen."

Old habits came back to her as she covered her smile with the back of her hand.

Taking hold of her wrist, he pulled her hand away to fully appreciate her joy. "Of course, you'd be in good company with me."

To his amusement Chairman Mao took the opportunity to disrupt their moment by leaping onto the sofa at Selina's head.

The two of them looked up at the cat.

"He follows you around, you know?" She asked.

"I'm aware. Chairman Mao is my favourite and he knows it." For a moment, he was unsure whether he said that out loud.

"Chairman Mao?"

Edward blinked, before clearing his throat. "Well…it was that or Paul."

"Paul?"

"…may be the orange tabby in the corner."

Quirking a brow, Selina screwed her mouth up adorably. "Did you name all the strays, Ed?"

"Not all of them." He growled adjusting his cufflinks and getting off of her.

She smirked at him wickedly. "Eddie…"

"I wouldn't condescend to name these fleabags." He huffed.