Greetings all! Thank you to my lovely reviewers again for being so faithful to the project. I'm going to PM you soon, Life's been busy and I haven't been very good about personall thanking you guys this past week. I will do that soon. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy.
P.S. - Anyone who's been to my profile has probably seen the poll I made. If you haven't, there's a favorite orignal character poll for White Veil up there that you can vote for. It's all for fun, so just click your favorite:)
The van pulled up to the location which included a cottage and something resembling a storage house in the back. Josephine was skeptical as the van stopped on the country road. Thickets surrounded the house, woven in the heath along the trees. It was a thin forest. She barely noticed it as they passed through the city limits and into the mild wilderness. It was not much, but it was worth the trip. Anything was worth getting out of Gotham.
Chap leapt out of the van, grateful for some exercise. He bounded up to the house and began running all through the grass, snuffling and rubbing all in it.
Josephine enlisted the henchmen to help her get the professor out of the car. He was heavy; naturally, she couldn't carry him to the location on her own. As they carried the professor into the house, Josephine stood back and looked over the house. It was an abandoned and needed some work done. Obviously no one had lived here for a while. No doubt it wasn't a decrepit uninhabitable place. Maybe a couple of years had gone by without residence. Ivy grew over the house's walls, hiding the cracks in the white brick. The sturdy structure was the only reason the place had not crumbled under weather. There was a serious overgrowth of flora everywhere. Aunt Ivy would be happy here.
She breathed in the airs. For once it wasn't full of city smog. No garbage, no screaming, nothing unwanted…just the great outdoors and a cottage to break in. She found herself smiling. A bird called overhead. That was another thing –no unwanted Birds.
"Good job getting here, boys. You might actually be useful at times." She said once the men returned from the house.
"I put 'im upstairs in one of the bedrooms. There are three. I guess you can take the other."
"And we'll flip for the other." The second henchmen said, grinning at his partner.
Josephine smiled mockingly. "No, you won't. The professor will need a second room to have an office, remember?"
They looked to each other. "Then where're we supposed to sleep?"
"Downstairs on couches. What did you think?"
They grumbled to one another. The second looked at Firetongue. "What about him? What's he going to do?"
"Want me to shoot him?" The other said.
"He's staying somewhere. I haven't decided where."
"Why can't he stay on the couch? After all, he's the one that caused the boss this mess. We could put him in the woods and leave him there."
As temping as the idea was, Josephine rejected the idea of placing Firetongue out there. The basement would do him the better. He could guard the supplies whilst the two idiots would guard the house. She was between a rock and a hard place.
"You two go and see to that all the toxin gets to the lower level. I'll see to him." Firetongue did not look at her, but remained standing off center. His eyes averted.
The two dopey henchmen carried boxes upon boxes to the house. Josephine sauntered up to him. Her lip protruding. "Well, here we are then." Her face blank, cold. "You say you want to help me and by association, the professor?" she clicked her tongue. "Well, you'll guard the toxin and chemicals to make more toxins."
Is that his order?
"That is my order. Is that sufficient for you?"
He stared at her without answering. She looked him up and down, then started for the house.
His gaze bore into her head. He was sending some kind of message, though without a face to match it with, it was hopeless to decipher.
Is that what you really want?
"Is what I want for you to guard the chemicals and for myself to see to my boss? At the moment yes."
That's not what I mean and you know it.
"Firetongue, at the moment, I'm trying to keep myself from taking my knife and sticking it straight into your heart because you might have seriously damaged a man I care strongly for. What I want is for everybody to do as I say so that I can look after him, because at the moment, I'm at my wit's end." Spittle flew out her mouth at the last. A stare down engaged. Neither budged from their spots. Although, Firetongue seemed to be getting closer and closer to her until their bodies were almost touching. His eyes softened in the morning light. As he watched, her hardened face grew into something softer as well, but not happy. She seemed to question the whole situation. Slowly, her eyes dampened, the corners of her mouth sunk deeper into a depression uncharacteristic of her. Her form broke down, allowing her to sob quietly while he took her in his arms. She clung to him as nothing had occurred. All emotional buildup from the past evening's events just overflowed her cup. Nothing satisfied her more than to hug something and let it all out.
He held her there. One hand fixed into her mussed brown hair, the other around her back, rubbing out all the kinks in her muscles. Her sobs dissipated into heaving sighs.
"I know you were only trying to protect me," she said between sniffles. Her face buried in his shoulder. "But why did you have to hurt him so badly?" Another choked sob broke out.
Firetongue closed his eyes, knowing the pleasure from holding her was ruined because of his impulsiveness. It was his punishment. But he did wish she would take the blade and end his suffering. Then, he would be away from her and the professor, whom she held so dear.
Chap rubbed against her leg. Prickly spurs stuck her but she smiled. At least he was certainly happy. His tongue lolled out and he yipped in play.
Eventually, she released him, drying her eyes on her coat. She sniffled loudly. When the two turned around, the henchmen were there staring. One had an awkward expression, the other a smirk.
"So you're two timing the professor then?"
"What, never seen a girl hug her brother before?"
The two stood agape. "You don't have a brother." He turned to his friend. "Does she?"
"You don't have evidence against it." Chap put his paws on Firetongue's chest, wagging his tail. He pet his head attentively. "And I don't like labels, remember?" She stared down the two.
With that, she hurried into the house. "Finish getting the stuff in. Then, get to the woods and gather some firewood. Firetongue's going to need a lot to burn off to keep us warm tonight."
She disappeared into the house.
The professor was laid out in what could be called the Master Bedroom. It was a double bed –a Queen in fact –and was stuffed in Downey feathers. It looked as though he had been dropped and left on the bed without much care, as he had. Josephine could do nothing more than roll her eyes. The men really were useless. They couldn't even tuck a man in his own bed.
She sat by his side, careful not to touch him so he may not cry out. "Professor, can you hear me? It's Josephine."
He groaned, parched lips opened. "Is there…water?"
Josephine mentally slapped herself. Of course! Hydration would be lovely for a patient in care.
She ran off to the bathroom and found the tap to be in perfect shape, luckily. There were some drinking glasses left. Not caring about sanitation, she filled one and brought it back into the room. Her arm went behind his head and propped him up so that he could sip without choking. He drank little and relaxed in her embrace. He coughed some.
"Mmm…that's enough."
She put the water glass on the bedside table. Most of the room was wood, either oak or pine or whatever else one put into a cottage in the woods. It smelled nice, though. It wasn't as bad as it seemed at first.
"Professor, can I get you anything else? Some food, maybe? Are you hungry?"
"N-n-no…I need to rest. I'm so cold."
Josephine was anxious about him. His sickness was something strange. She hadn't seen it before on anyone she knew. From the corner, she spied Firetongue walk into the room. He hung in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt. His face was blank. She motioned for him to come nearer.
"'tongue, I don't know what he has. His symptoms aren't anything I've seen before."
He hung his head, ashamed.
It is hyperthermia. It happened before. I did it again.
"You can give someone a sickness?" She gazed wondrously at him. "How can you…never mind, can you help him? What does he need?"
He needs a fan and water. Some Aspirin will help keep his blood pressure up.
"I think we have some Aspirin." She made to stand. "I'll go get you some-"
But she was pulled back onto the bed. Her head lay on his chest. She sat up.
"No…I want you here…with me. I don't want to be alone."
Josephine looked to Firetongue. "Will you go get some medicine for him?"
He nodded. He backed out of the room.
Josephine turned back to her patient. Her hand found his and began to rub it affectionately. "You're going to be well. I don't think hyperthermia kills, you know. I'm going to stay right here, okay?"
"Yes, stay there…" he lolled off to sleep, his voice growing lighter as he slipped away.
Firetongue came back with medicine. Josephine administered it with the glass of water. "Professor, you have to wake up. Please, you have to take this." She rubbed his chest, trying to get him conscience enough to be able to swallow. She couldn't have him choking there. Brown eyes slit open. Lips parted for more hydration. Josephine slipped an Aspirin in and held the water up. She drank plentifully. "Good, Professor. Very good. Now you can sleep."
Dr. Crane started to nod off again. Josephine stood and went next to Firetongue. She heaved a sigh, and soon, a yawn. "Mmm…I'm sorry. I'm so tired. I didn't sleep at all."
Go sleep. I will look after him.
"No, I promised to stay with him and I will. I just, need to make myself comfortable in the room. Maybe a chair might suffice."
Josephine, you must sleep. You can barely stand. Please…rest for a while.
Josephine thought to reconsider, but decided against it. "No, I'm going to stay in here. Wait, wait, before you give me that look again, remember that I can take care of myself. Okay? I can sit by his side. At least now he's asleep. I can sleep too. I can take care of myself."
Who will take care of you?
He smiled without teeth. He bobbed his head as a goodnight and started for the stairs.
"Where are you going?"
The basement. I still have a debt to pay.
Three days later…
Josephine was Professor Crane's caregiver from then one. She split her time as his aide and primary chemist in making more formula. Downstairs in the basement, there was an array of boxes containing the chemicals they brought from their travels. The dusty glass and bottles used for holding fermented toxin put a damper on the atmosphere of the basement. It could have been a tidier place used for something homier but that was not the objective. Josephine was disappointed it looked nothing like the lab in the apartment. Dr. Crane had done such a good job building that lab. This one was nothing like it, - an indoor science shanty.
She far more enjoyed her time spent with Dr. Crane.
Firetongue's knowledge of hyperthermia was helpful in giving the professor the proper care he needed. He managed to find a rusted fan in the barn outside. Josephine got it working again. The men hauled it upstairs to the bedroom where it stood in the corner as a primary cooling agent for him.
It did turn chilly in there. Josephine took to wearing her coat whenever she sat by his side. Mostly this was in the evening when it was cold and lonely in the basement. She came up and visited with the professor who was awake most of the time. He could move okay, but he was still blind and stayed bedridden. She supposed he would walk in a few days when he felt like it. At the moment, he could not help with the chemicals but give her instructions on what to do.
However, he had not gained his sight again.
To their happiness, hyperthermia did not cause permanent blindness. It may last for a few weeks or days. No one could tell how far. No doctor administered. All they could do was wait. But, he was in good care, thus far.
Josephine slept in her room at night. But the third night she decided different.
It was about midnight. The men were downstairs keeping watch. They discovered alcohol in a cabinet in the kitchen and set about to finish it all. Josephine managed to snatch a bottle of merlot from the stock. She could not hide her surprise at how much the owners left behind. From their arrival, they discovered nothing but a barren house with little utilities other than running water and blankets. What to their wandering eyes did appear, but a chest of alcohol also came with it. Some canned goods also survived and Josephine kept a ration on it so the gorillas downstairs wouldn't eat all of it.
Tonight, a merlot with between two people seemed like a fantastic way to share the bother of the situation.
Josephine crept into the professor's room fully prepared to rouse him from slumber. She leaned against the door post, wine in one hand, two glasses dangling from her fingers in the other. The professor was not asleep, but staring into darkness. Her seductive pose was for naught.
"Ahem, you awake Professor?"
"Yes, I am."
"I brought a little cheering up for us. I rescued it from the animals downstairs. I know that you would be able to appreciate it." She walked to his bedside and set the glasses down. She removed a bottle opener from her blouse and twisted out the cork.
Pop!
Foam spewed over the cylindrical glass. A quiet hiss hushed through the blackened room.
"And how did this rescue proceed? I'm curious."
Josephine smirked to herself. "I threatened with first taste of toxin and if it was ready, I would use my knife to carve their initials."
"Ah, I know that sound." Said Crane. He smiled.
"Oh yes." Josephine wiped off the additional spillage and sucked it off her finger. It made a loud smack when she did so. "It's about time we properly christened the place."
"Josephine don't tease me. I can't have that now."
"Oh I know, professor. That's what makes this seduction so much more exciting." She poured the maroon liquid into a crystal glass and fit his hands around it. When satisfied with the grip, he lifted it to his lips and drank.
He swished the substance around, absorbing the taste. His eyes closed as he swallowed. "Ah, a good bottle."
Josephine poured herself a glass and sat on the bed, repeating the same ritual. She groaned. Her back was bothering her. She hoped the alcohol buzz would kick in soon. Even after so long, she was still sore from that night.
They finished their glasses and she poured more into his. She then began to drink from the bottle. "Thank you, Merlot. I do love you." She took another swig.
"If you are drinking straight from the bottle, may I say that it is very vulgar?"
Josephine froze, but lifted the bottle again. "Do you want me to pour some into your mouth? Just say it and I will."
"No I think I will stick with my glass." He drank from it. A drop slid down his chin but he took notice. Josephine did.
"Professor, you have a little…" she moved closer, her hand outstretched, her thumb wiped it from his scraggly shin. She stayed there a moment, staring at him. His eyes were not fixed on her. It was strange still not seeing him see her. But it did have its advantages. She leant closer.
"Professor," she breathed. Her hand flew back to his chin. She touched it, feeling the little hairs that had grown since their arrival. He made no move against her. Her fingers followed up his jaw, trailing up and down. He closed his eyes.
"Jonathan," she whispered. Her face was close to his but not close enough. She continued getting closer until a certain someone leapt up on the bed.
"Ugh, Chap!"
The hyena breathed in her face, licking her neck.
"You're not nocturnal. And look, you're hurting the professor. I'm so sorry."
"It's alright." He smiled, but didn't reach to pet the animal.
Josephine slid of the bed. "Here's I'll get him into my room. He just needs telling what to do…I should be getting to be as well. Good night, professor," she held Chap's collar and dragged him to the door. Before she went further, Crane called out.
"You know, once you've put him up, you could come back in. I could use the company."
"Professor, are you trying to cloud my honor?"
"If only for conversation." Josephine's smile shrunk, but she dragged the hyena to her room, locking it, and returned promptly.
"What are we going to do after this is all finished?" She asked.
"That is undecided as of yet. I haven't quite made up my mind on the target, although I hear rumor that the ball at Wayne Manor will be a large one. We may not want to miss out."
Josephine wondered at the thought. The ball? Her father was going to that. No doubt Jack's aritlery would suffice for such an uproar. But if Joker would be there and the Scarecrow, there would be not telling what would happen…
"The ball might not be the ideal location, professor. Not to say I'm arguing with your ideal it's just that…"
"Joker is planning to attack there as well, isn't he?"
She was quiet. He took the silence as a positive. "Mmm…well that provides a difficulty. Doesn't it?"
"Yes." In more than one way. If I was seen, I'd have to stop them both from killing each other. I couldn't bear that. They can't do that. Rogues never get along. Perhaps in an ideal world where everyone was sane and all, but there wasn't. We all suffer from the "normal" people.
"What will you do, once we leave?"
"What?" She wondered. "I'm going to be with you, of course. What else?"
"I thought you would be with your father. The gala's coming up. Like you said in the past, if he saw you with me, it would make him go mad and kill me. And you didn't want that, did you?" There was something sly in the way he said it. It almost hinted that he knew her affection for him, but she wasn't sure.
"Of course I don't want him to kill you! I don't want him to lay a finger on you! Why do you always bring that up? I haven't changed, professor. I'm still the same since two years ago." Not entirely true, but she kept it to herself. "Anyway, I'm tired of talking shop for now. Can't we just talking about nothing in particular, like two normal people?"
She swore he chuckled. "We are not normal people, Josephine."
"I enjoy killing and torturing people. You like to scare them until they die or kill themselves. Normal is purely relative, professor. Just look at my father.
Dr. Crane nodded, but a smile splayed across his lips. Josephine swore that since their arrival, he had been in much better spirits. It must have been the country air because he was acting peculiar. He smiled more and talked about important matters with such ease. He was not as tightly wound as he was back at the apartment. He was…amused with what she said most of the time. They must have been bonding more than she believed.
The two talked for about an hour before the professor felt himself begin to tire. He yawned and pulled the covers over himself, ready for the night. Josephine decided to be adventurous and try something new.
"Professor, do you mind if I stay here tonight? Chap tends to jump during the night. I ay not get the rest I need to work on the toxins."
There was a pause. "Yes, I don't see a problem…."
"I'll just sit in this chair…" She scooted a chair near and tried to make herself comfortable but once the screeching sounded, the professor objected.
"No, no...don't sit there. Your back and neck will be screaming by tomorrow morning. Just…just sit here," he motioned to the place beside him. "The mattress is surprisingly comfortable and you won't have to worry about your pet."
Josephine smiled at him, even if he couldn't see it. She left the chair, undoing her jacket she always wore, and slid into the bed. Luckily, she had brought her pajamas. The professor scooted over to provide her room. It was warm where he was. Toasty. Her body somewhat seized up when she realized that she was sharing the bed with a man she was in love with. She was sharing a bed with someone who wasn't covered in fur. She felt her private walls crumbling around her. She had to remind herself she wanted this. She wanted to open up to the professor. She wanted for him to see her in a new light where she wasn't just an assistant but a woman, even a young one. She sniggled into the mattress, burying her toes in the lower part of the bed.
She tried something else.
She rested her cheek on his shoulder. His body bristled, but he didn't move away. She snuggled closer to him. "I'm cold," she said.
"Yes," he said unsteadily. Still, he did not move away.
She smiled to herself. She felt at peace. His gentle breathing coaxed her into dreams of her own –one where she was completely in serenity…with him.
Firetongue discovered her that morning, although he wished he had not. He walked in to check on the professor, thinking Josephine was still in bed. She had not come down to the basement. When he reached the master suite, he was mistaken. There she was, head resting on his chest, not doubt subconsciously listening to his heartbeat. His own heart ached. The only comfort he could indulge in was that: she was atop the covers, fully clothed and seemingly innocent in how her body language suggested.
He had seen many a couple in the circus sleep in the same bed after a nightly tryst. Theirs was a much more open, intimate embrace than this was. That was a least a little relief.
He did not know if he should interrupt though. Every fiber in his being said to do it. His own feelings tried to get in the way of his servitude and debt. It was very obvious that she was closer the man than he supposed, and in a more intimate fashion. He didn't like it. It was once thing to assist him, another to sleep in the same bed. He noticed the bottle on the bedside, nearly empty. His heart relaxed a little. Perhaps she had only fallen asleep after that. He didn't know she drank.
Josephine moved. He excused himself from the room, not wanting to interrupt anything, but wanting to all the same. He wanted to act, wanted to tell her everything, how he watched her from afar, served her like a dog, not for any gain but because he saw something in her that he hoped would always be there and still be there when with the professor. If the man crushed her spirit, he wouldn't ask her permission the best time. It would be strictly a matter of the heart.
He spied a flicker below, when he breathed again, a stream of flame about two feet long spewed out. He held his mouth, breathing through his nostrils. No, now was not the time to think such things. He would go and wait. That was all he could do.
Wait.
He noiselessly retreated.