Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun

03

Crushcrushcrush

"Ms. Cohen, I don't know how schools are run in that distasteful city Gotham, but fighting is not allowed in my school."

I groaned. Principal Waverly was a cowardly looking man. Portly and balding, his eyes were narrowed. He kind of looked like an obese mouse to be honest. His ears were a little to large for his small head and his face was pinched.

His office wasn't any better. The school colors were brown and red, reminding me of old blood, and his office was painted to match. There were numerous plaques lining the walls and there were generic pictures of people that were supposed to be his family on his desk. The room was chilly, even for November and I curled into myself.

To say that the fight with Sherry was evenly matched was a gross exaggeration. I could have beaten her to a bloody mess had Jonathan not pulled me off of her. She landed maybe one or two hits on me, and a three year old can hit harder than she can. Maybe she had never had to defend her place in social standing here. Until now that is.

"Ms. Cohen, are you ignoring me?" I blinked. Oops. I had dazed off. Jonathan told me not to do that.

"Sorry, sir. Just thinking about how sorry I am." Not.

The repulsive man gave a big sigh. "You've only been here for two weeks and you've already attacked someone!"

"Did you see what was painted on my locker, sir? I was defending myself!" The nerve of this man. I shifted, the seats were uncomfortable and scratchy. I just wanted to get out of here.

"Yes, that is unfortunate, but you can't prove it was Ms. Williams that did it." I rolled my eyes. Waverly leaned back, resting his hands on his girth. "I have decided to be lenient since you have no record and Ms. Williams decided not to press charges. I'm letting you off with a warning now, Ms. Cohen. But if you put one more toe over the line, you will be suspended or expelled." He leaned over, the desk, getting inches from my face and I had to keep myself from gagging. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Yes, dear God, yes. I'll agree to anything. Just get me out of this office. "May I go now?"

He nodded. "You're dismissed. It's the end of second period, so just head to your locker."

I nodded and pretty much ran out of the room. I slowed down once I reached the empty hallway and I slowly made my way to my locker. It wasn't too far away from the office so I didn't need to rush. My footsteps on the linoleum were the only sound other than the muted voices of teachers if you got too close to a door.

Once I reached my locker I stood back and stared at the ugly words. The black paint stood out great on awful brown. I didn't even bother to ask if they were going to repaint it, I seriously doubted it.

It wasn't even the fact that they were saying that I was sleeping with Jonathan. Granted, I'd only known him for a day, but I could definitely do a lot worse. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Sure, he was a little... odd and a bit antisocial. But he was different, and I loved that. He wasn't apologetic for being who he was. And besides, popularity doesn't mean anything outside of high school.

No one cares if you were a cheerleader or a band nerd. I had less than a year left here and then I would be going back to Gotham. So would Jonathan.

"No matter how long you stare at it, it's still going to be there."

I jumped about five feet in the air and turned, almost running face first into Jonathan's chest. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and I blushed a little. "Er, yeah. I don't care, anyways."

"You don't care that the entire school thinks you're having sex with me?" I shook my head and busied myself opening my locker. Why hadn't I heard the bell ring? "You are quite unusual, Dahlia."

"Yeah, you have room to talk, Crane." I grabbed my Psychology book and notebook, pushing the locker door shut. "Don't you need to get your book?"

He held it out to me. When had he gotten that? How long did I stare at my stupid locker?

"A good five minutes I'd say." I blinked. Had I said that out loud? Apparently I had.

I sighed and started walking, noting how Jonathan fell into step with me. We walked in a companionable silence until we reached for door, which he promptly opened, letting me past first.

Ms. Phyllis wasn't in yet, but I sat down regardless. Jonathan shook his head and sat in front of me, mumbling something. He was probably still put out that he was wrong.

More people filed in through the doors and I saw Sherry walk in. She kept her gaze to the ground and her face was bruised. I kind of felt guilty, but at the same time I knew it would probably help her character to be knocked down a peg or two.

Phyllis still hadn't came in and I felt a tap on my arm. I looked to my left and noticed a small girl I had never noticed before. Her hair was dark brown, borderline black and she had warm brown eyes and a tan complexion. She gave me a small smile. "I'm Belinda. I just wanted to thank you."

My brow furrowed in confusion and Jonathan turned in interest. "For what?" I glared at him for asking my question. He just smirked.

She leaned in and her voice was quieter. "I've been bullied by Sherry my entire life. Since you stood up to her, she hasn't bothered anyone, including me. There's a lot of people who want to thank you."

I frowned. "You don't need to thank me, really."

Her smile only brightened. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch?

I opened my mouth and didn't really know what to say. I looked at Jonathan who just grinned and turned around. Jerk.

The rest of the day went by quickly and before I knew it, I was walking back toward my graffiti-ed locker. I hadn't seen hide or hair of Jonathan since Psychology, but it's not like it was a big deal or anything. But I kind of felt a bit lonely without my shadow.

I turned the corner and laughed. My shadow was leaning against the locker, reading that fear book of his. At the sound of my giggle, he looked up and looked, dare I say it, almost happy to see me. "Took you long enough."

I just smiled and shook my head before gently pushing him away from my locker so I could get into it. This new friendship dynamic we had would take some getting used to, considering I haven't had a friend close by in close to a month. "So sorry. Next time I'll just knock people out that get in my way."

A chuckle burst out of Jonathan's chest. "That would be amusing, at the very least."

I had to agree. I threw my Trig book in the bottom of the locker and grabbed my keys. "Ready to get out of this hell?"

He nodded and I grabbed his arm, grinning when he looked very uncomfortable. I took one last look at my ruined locker and pulled him down the hallway and out of the school.

"How did you learn to fight like that?" Jonathan's soft voice broke the silence.

We were sitting at the top of his lane again. It was warm for November, so we were sitting on the hood of the Charger. I was leaning back on my elbows, staring at the blue sky that I didn't want to admit reminded me of someone's eyes. We had been in a content silence, neither of us really ready to leave the other.

I shrugged. "I grew up in Gotham. Anyone that has common sense takes some kind of defense classes. I took mixed martial arts. I'm rusty because I've never had to use it. Well, until today." I ran my hand over my face. "I really hope they didn't call my mother. She's gonna skin me alive."

"Your mother seems reasonable enough. I'm sure she'll understand."

We lapsed into another silence before an idea hit me.

"What's your favorite color?"

I just got a blank look in return. "What?"

"Your favorite color?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

I started drumming my fingers on the hood. "Um, well, I assume since we're friends, I could know a bit about you?"

"We're friends?"

I sat up. I was kind of mixed between shocked and embarrassed. Okay, maybe I had assumed he wanted more than just rides to school. I felt my face heat up. Stupid. "I, um... thought we were?"

His face clouded over and he seemed to think for a second. Seconds ticked by and it seemed like it was going to be forever. Finally, he turned those icy eyes on me and nodded. "Yeah, okay. I've never really had a friend before."

I smiled softly at him. "Okay, then. We hardly know anything about each other. So, I'll ask you a question and then you can ask me one. Alright?" He nodded. "Okay, so I'll start easy. Favorite color?"

"Green. And you?"

"You're supposed to ask a different question but I'll let it slide this time. I love purple." I brought my legs to my chest. "When's your birthday?"

"November 13th. What's your favorite book?"

"The 13th? That's next week! We have to do something."

He fully turned to face me now, his knees only centimeters away from mine. My heart beat faster. "Like what?

I thought for a minute. "My mom will be working, so why don't you come over and I'll make dinner or something?" I was still very anxious. What the hell is up with me?

He looked like he was about to refuse but he paused and then nodded. "Okay... I think I would like that."

I couldn't help myself, I flung myself over and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him. I must have scared the hell out of him, because he got very still, arms at his sides. I pulled back and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

He gave me a small smile back before hopping off the hood and starting to gather his things. He started walking down the lane until I remembered something. "Hey, Crane!" He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "My favorite book is Wicked by Gregory Maguire."

He smirked. "Good choice." He continued down the lane until he went around the bend, vanishing from sight.

I climbed into the car and started it, loving the familiar feel of the motor growling. I pulled out onto the road and sang along with the hit song that was playing on the radio.

I had only gotten about ten feet before I came to a dead stop, realization making me want to drive my car into the nearest tree.

I had a crush. A crush on Jonathan Crane. Fuck.

A/N: I know this is pretty short and I'm not quite satisfied with it, but I figured this would be a nice little Christmas gift to all the wonderful people who put this on alert, favorites, and to my reviewer. =) And I'll give a shout out to anyone that can tell me why I picked Wicked as her favorite book. Although, the answer is found in the musical more so than the book.