Happy New Year, Readers! Another Year going down tonight. 2012 in our midst, and my graduation year! I'm excited. Plus, I don't think that the world will end in 2012 either. I didn't go through puberty and twelve years of public school for that to happen.
I hope you have a wonderful rest of 2011 and I will post again on the seventh! See you then!
That evening, the clown princess trekked across Gotham back to the Narrows and into Professor Crane's apartment. It was quiet again. There was an exception. A tender clicking echoed from below but it was hard to tell what the cause was. Most likely Crane was working away with gentle dexterity on his experiments, trying to create substitutes for what he did not have ingredients for.
Josephine entered downstairs. The steps creaked from age and neglect. She would not be the least surprised if one night she happened to bust through. However, it did make for a good alarm system if the person did not know where to step to avoid such happening. There was a single bulb lighting the way. It buzzed with cheap electricity. Little wiring in it slightly stirring with every step against the splintered wood.
Her covered feet padded across the dented and cracked cement floor. She spied the professor hunched over his lab table mixing the batches. Upon hearing her arrival, he made to grab his mask to spray the intruder but was evaded when she jumped from his reach and against his chest. The mixture would not have had any effect on her but she did so just the same. Her contact with him sent a little chill up her spine. Her arm brushed his clothing and spun her away from him as he recognized her.
"You were gone for a little more than an hour," he stated, replacing the mask and settling into his position. "I thought you returned home to the clown."
"I did." She fingered some of the samples. Apparently it looked as though he had been preparing as much as he could with the little supplies he had left and was fixing the current ingredients for when he received the stolen treasures he needed. "I came back."
"Something interesting occur?"
"A pest perhaps, but nothing that I cannot handle."
"The bird?"
"No, another for my own personal torture, but in a way, yes, a bird. A black bird, blue bird, blue jay. A bird of prey. Whatever it is that really gets under your skin. Perhaps he's better suited to be a rash that a bird. Its starts and before you know it, your place and mind are occupied by this one little problem."
"Is not Batman your pest?"
"Not anymore," was all she had to say.
He grunted. "Will this pest make you get the ingredients I asked you for?"
"It's planned. I'm going to Poison Ivy tonight. That should be efficient, don't you think? A nice Nightshade to brighten your evening."
"I'll be in a cheerier mood when I get my supplies Josephine. Or, you can get your loyal little companions to do it for you. Wait, I've heard word that they're not available at the moment."
"I can handle it on my own, professor." She traced a circle into the wooden table with the tip of her index finger. She repeated the pattern without saying anything. The professor stopped his tinkering to glance her. At that opportune moment, she caught his gaze. She held it. "You know what I'm capable of."
Dr. Crane carried the gaze for a little more than a second before fingering a test tube and adding ingredients to it. She watched him.
His long fingers moved with nimble dexterity as he poured some of the contents into each tube. With a culinary utensil, he chopped up the plants he bribed for into finite pieces and carefully measured each little piece. Her gaze switched to his attributes. His back arched as he bent over to get clearer views. Auburn hair fell into his eyes as he pinched some Belladonna and watched it settle to the bottom. Brown eyes transfixed on the chemistry. Green eyes transfixed on him.
This process went on for about two and a half minutes until he noticed that Josephine was watching him with widened eyes and a hand on her cheek, looking very pensive, but her gaze was piercing through him.
"The ingredients, Josephine," he reminded, not knowing what to do in this situation.
She blinked several times, her hand finding its way to her side. "I'm sorry, professor, I…was lost for a moment."
Dr. Crane stopped what he was doing and looked her over for a moment. He never absolutely stared at his assistant for more than a few seconds. He took those seconds to view her in full. She had brown hair, green eyes, fair skin and soft eyelashes. He ceased when she looked at him, but he caught something sorrowful in the way her eyes looked at him.
"Josephine," he began whilst starting back with his project, "does this pest, do anything to you?"
"No, but…" There was another pest –a bigger one – she had forgone to mention to him on all counts of her privacy.
Her mind flickered to a memory of only six months before. She shuddered.
Josephine sat in her holding cell in Arkham Asylum. Fingers fiddled together in anticipation for her next session. Her next session was with…him.
Her teeth chattered as she moved her hands to her upper body, massaging her arms and thin biceps. Her tongue touched every one of her teeth twenty times; eyes fixated on the dirty spot on the concrete in front of her.
She felt very alone here. In her cell, there was little sunlight, little joy, and little comfort, little everything. Her parents were cells away from her and she was only accompanied with Two Face and Dr. Crane. The gentle flick and ring of Two Face's coin happened every so often as he asked it his silent questions. She didn't make eye contact with him. It was a wiser thing to do.
No one spoke to her except Professor Crane occasionally out of respect for her ease.
Two minutes until the guards came. At least she could have two minute of hate for her doctor.
A brawny guard appeared in her doorway. Tapping a few keys, the door shifted to one side. He clasped her arm and dragged her from the cell. She barely had the time to collect her steps.
"You can show a little more manner," said Dr. Crane.
"Hey, treat the lady nice," grumbled Two Face in his low chilling voice.
The guard tossed her head back with teeth grit. "Shut up, freaks! I can man handle her all I damn well please!"
With that, he shoved Josephine. She nearly fell, but grasped the ground before her head cracked against the unforgiving floor.
"Move on!" He smacked her again.
She kept far ahead of him until they reached the doctor's offices. Leland stood outside her own office with a few colleagues. They quieted when they spied her. She tried to look brave but knew her features gave off of that of a child. Her eyes lowered and she stood near the door. The guard grabbed her arm and knocked on the door until they were admitted.
The room was cold and uninviting. As soon as she sat in the vacant chair before his desk, the guard nodded in the doctor's direction.
"She gives you any trouble. You holler, right?"
"That will be sufficient. Thank you."
The guard left.
Josephine was alone with him; alone and vulnerable to his will.
"Shall we begin, Josephine Quinzel?"
Her bones quaked.
"For what?"
"For today's punishment."
Josephine feared it.
"What is it today?"
A pause. "Electro shock therapy."
He came out of the shadows.
Professor Hugo Strange was in.
"Josephine," Dr. Crane balanced a test tube holder and stared at her. "Is something troubling you?"
"There is a…another time for this."
Curious, he moved closer to her so that they were only two feet from one another. Her eyes were downcast. He slid his hands across the table, fingering the circular portion of a test tube rack. Warmth overcame him as he did so, being closer to his assistant. He could not describe it. Her face was barren of emotion now and she looked into his face, lips caught between her teeth. Dr. Crane felt the need to touch her face, her cheek, but hastily eradicated the thought. That was far from inappropriate, though her skin was looking very smooth in the light…no! He stopped the thoughts. No….he had allowed himself to into these waters before. It did not end well for him.
Upon seeing his sudden distress, Josephine slid away from the table, eyes never leaving his. "Professor, I should go to Ivy's and get your supplies," the words foreign, "I will return later tonight."
The doctor copied her movements and slid back to his work. "Yes, do so. I will order the men to gather the supplies from the Mafia. And Josephine? I have another plan for us when you return."
She stopped at the door and stared back him, edging away from it. "Another? But won't we have all the ingredients needed?"
"Yes, we will but we've stayed too long in this apartment. I fear –excusing the common phrase –that we may be compromised soon. I will not take that chance. We will move tonight. I will get the men to infiltrate the Italians, and then we will be ready."
"Am I to leave with you? Where will we go?"
Dr. Crane took to organizing his phials. "A place I know of. That is all I can tell you. For now, you will just have to be patient."
"Oh, Dr. Crane, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were kidnapping me." She smiled brightly. Her mischievous temper did not go unnoticed. He smiled in return, but soon found himself in that dangerous way again and put an end to it. He cleared his throat.
"I will see you later this evening, Miss Quinzel."
"Dr. Crane," she nodded and slipped out the door.
Her breath caught in her throat as she left the apartment. Her hand covered her mouth as she examined the event that passed before her.
He stared at me with that look. That look of repression. I saw it. One person is all I ask. One person to care. Even the strongest monarch wants someone to care. Professor, are you that one. perhaps?
Head craned to the sky she said, "Forgive me for my feminine weakness. I do not know how else to feel for him."
Once Josephine was out of the Narrows, she set out to find her crew. Blackgate Penitentiary was the superb choice for holding criminals brave enough to face off against the dark knight. That was the first place to find them. She would need them as it happens that Poison Ivy would be less than persuaded to hand over some Nightshade plants.
In her favor, she found them there, nicely tucked away in a cell rigged for "persons of special abilities." Breaking them out was not a problem. Breaking out of Arkham was less trouble. There was much more challenge in breaking out of a mental institution where every precaution is taken and every possibility measured. The two were quite happy to be ride of their neutralized chains and to be with their mistress again. Not that she may ever tell them, but ti was nice to have her cohorts straggling along beside her again.
Once out, the questions came with them.
"When are we heading back to the hideout?" asked Ink.
"Not now," explained Josephine as they ran over rooftops. They followed her as she bounded over the shingles and concrete. "We're doing a favor first. Perhaps later we will return."
"Oh, later then. What exactly is this favor? Is it for Riddler? Penguin? Mad Hatter?"
"No, stop asking. Remember what I told you about those who ask too many questions?"
"Knives are quick to those who chatter, but silent men are those that matter."
"Correct."
She knew there was a reason why she liked Firetongue the most. He was always silent. His muteness was a tradeoff for his ability to breathe the flames that helped them get out of so many problems. She was unaware of how this power came to be or if it was natural. She never thought to ask.
Her men's footsteps slowed as they reached the outer parts of Gotham where the greenhouses stood. They knew full well what was happening. Ink said nothing under penalty of an improvised nursery rhyme. Josephine read Firetongue's expression: Poison Ivy? Why her?
"Poison Ivy has something I want and I'm going to get it no questions asked. Understand? I'm going to go ahead, but you two will have to stay here unless I whistle for back up. Got it? Don't come in otherwise. Her plants will kill you in an instant and where would I be if that happened? Stay."
Sometimes he felt like she was speaking to dogs. They would always follow her. That was what she liked about the two of them. They were loyal and would work for no one else but her, even in the temptation of money. It was not her father but her they listened to. If she were to leave, they would follow. If she were to leave her father.
She skidded down an alley and off a building to walk across a lawn leading to an overgrown glass wall where the entrance to Poison Ivy's lair began. It was very much a task to try to fit into where the plants were but knowing where to step and how to slink your way came in great help. Besides, the plants liked her.
Josephine hurled herself through a rusted hatch surrounded in vines and greenery. She somersaulted through the air into a cavern lower than sea level. The air was misty and the ground was splayed in moss, dampening her clothes as she rolled into a safe crouch against the squishy texture. She stood before a host of moving vines and an effervescent glow of chlorophyll.
"Who enters my domain?" asked a low echoed voice from the shadows.
A closed Venus fly trap rose from an unknown abyss and opened to find Poison Ivy sitting atop its tongue as a throne.
"Hello, Aunt Ivy," approached Josephine, taking a cautious step toward the poisonous woman. Every time she entered the realm, she thanked her father's blood for its anti-toxin properties.
"Josephine! I did not expect you." The fly trap lowered itself to the moss covered ground, sticking out its tongue as a staircase.
"I'm here for an impromptu visit."
She tried to made her voice sound as friendly as she could, but somehow the circumstances made her feel like Ivy would see right through her. Ivy could usually sense someone's insincerity. Mother Nature knew all.
"Who were you expecting?"
"Tall, dark, and troublesome, as always." She stated in her low, velvety voice.
"Done something wrong again? Put the mayor's wife though a weed whacker? Bomb an industrial plant? I'd be intrigued to know."
Josephine was relaxing with the teasing. She sat near a large mushroom.
"Nothing that wasn't earned." A vine wrapped around her hand affectionately. She stroked it as one would a pet or a young child. "Going to tell on me?"
"No, who wants to know?"
"You're right. Your father would. That clown is usually snooping into my business as of late. I'm warning you Josephine, if he so much as lays a finger on you, I'll–"
" –I'll tell you straight away. He doesn't say anything to me really. I'm the neglected sort."
"Honestly, Josephine, you should leave him and come with me. I'm thinking about retirement. All this running around bores me. I'd rather spend my time where the real wildlife is, where my beloved babies can grow rather than wilt in this poisonous city. South America has a lovely array of exotic beauties. And the Amazon plants are never protected enough. You should accompany me Josephine, you would be most welcome."
"I'm going to stay here. Much as I'd like to travel the world, I don't think my place is anywhere else but in Gotham."
"But I can take you away from that clown. Harley will come too…if she gets better…when she is better." Ivy's face dropped. A couple more vines slithered from tables masses to comfort her. "Have you seen her?"
"Not lately." Josephine was ashamed to admit she hadn't visited her bedside in the last month. Breaking into a medical hospital was not as easy as Arkham. Nor was as good a time as any to change her sides.
"I know he hasn't either. That rotten lunatic. He did this to her. He's always the problem for her."
Ivy was still under the impression that Joker's gas had put her mother in her comatose state. Josephine was not about to clarify the truth. It was another secret she added to her ever growing list of betrayals to everyone around her.
She knew her father probably had not visited her. Maybe he did, maybe he hadn't. She was never sure. Maybe he went yesterday with roses and sat by her bedside. Maybe he held her hand. Maybe he whispered to her what he couldn't in the day. Maybe one of those things was a three letter phrase usually uttered to a longtime lover. Maybe this was all a lie Josephine thought of to comfort the fact that her father may not care if her mother lived or died.
But, if she must speak to someone of her feminine troubles, Mother Nature would be the best choice. She decided to venture the idea.
"Aunt Ivy, what do you think of Professor Crane?"
"Jonathan? Obsessive, a bit proud, but not as cruel as the others can sometimes be. I think I may prefer him to some of the rouges. Why do you ask?"
"I've been speaking to him."
Ivy lowered her voice. "Speaking?"
"Academically. About another situation. Sometimes…I work for him." She didn't know any other way to put it.
"Still working for a man," Ivy sighed. Josephine mentally exhaled. It was a better way to react than she'd hoped.
"But you agree he's better than the Joker. He treats me better. And I like him."
"You care for him." Ivy's gaze met her straight on. "Be careful of that. It's how the other situations are created."
Josephine sighed. "I know."
"But, you have a strong head on your shoulders. You are young, though. You say he is good to you?"
"Yes, he treats me with respect; as a friend. At least, that's how I think of him."
Ivy quirked an eyebrow.
"And that is all?"
"Yes," said Josephine. Rather defiantly.
"And here I thought you were different, Josephine. Evidently I knew it would come to this."
"What?"
"You've discovered men, little one. Handy as they are, they are also dangerous ad pigheaded; which is why I prefer to live without them. I suppose this is your first step towards womanhood."
"That isn't something I would have expected you to say. It's strange for a woman to say that that hates men."
"Strange, but true. Attraction is a part of nature. And I am nature itself. This is what all must go through, little one." She covered the short distance between the two and settled near her adopted niece. "But I must say your choice is better than others have been," she added with a slight melancholic end.
"My choice of what?" Josephine leaned away a little.
"A lover."
She leapt up.
"What? No! No, no, no…that's wrong. You're wrong! No! I don't feel that way. I don't. I don't! No, no, no, no…its wrongs it's so wrong. I don't feel. I do feel that it's wrong."
Josephine buried her face in her hands.
"It's wrong. It's wrong and I know it, but I can't help it. It's not my fault. I wish it wasn't like this. I wish I could cut out my stupid heart. Troublesome feelings always get everyone in trouble."
Poison Ivy strode over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It never makes sense."
Josephine sat her chin on her hands while Ivy rubbed her back.
"I don't understand why it has to happen this way." She looked at Ivy. "I feel warm whenever I think about him; yet, when I sometimes think about him, I'm sore and hurt. He won't feel the same. I know he won't." She added quickly, "he's always obsessed with his work."
"What you need, dare I say against my beliefs, is to speak with him. As I said earlier, I would much rather you reside with him than with the clown. Jonathan can be…difficult, but I've watched him over the years; he may endeavor to feel the same. He must care about you, if you're still here."
Josephine shook her head.
"I want it that way, but if he ever finds out." She sniffled. "If he ever found out my affections for Professor Crane, he would beat him while I watched. Maybe even…oh I don't want to think about it."
Poison Ivy nodded. She brought their heads together. "I only want you to be safe. Do you know that? That is all I want. You and your mother's safety."
Josephine sniffled again and faced Ivy. "I…have a favor to ask you."
Crash! Bang! Crack!
The roof rumbled as it gave way to intruders. Ivy hugged her close as two figures descended from the ceiling and landed on some of the larger of Ivy's babies. A dark figure rose along with a red and black clad youth.
"Batman, when will you ever learn to stop calling on a lady when she's said no."