Reticence and mystification resided so heavily in the hangar that I could particularly breathe them. We were transfixed, frozen in time, the Joker, the Riddler, and I. Still standing behind me, a step to the side with his arm resting on my shoulder, the Joker breathed heavily, his breath blowing on my neck. When the Riddler started to move, the Joker's finger twitched on the trigger, enough to pull it. I slapped my hand on it, causing him to space between the Riddler's feet.

The Riddler jumped, a startled cry escaping his lips, as I shoved the Joker back. The gunfire had broken the frozen moment.

"I appreciate your warning, Riddler," I said, evenly as I struggled to keep the Joker behind me. He wasn't fighting me, but at that moment where he was close to me, I could feel his struggle in keeping his rage under control. My physical resistance was the only thing keeping him in line. I half-turned and grabbed the Joker's hand, ripping the gun away before I turned back to the Riddler. "But you should go…before my partner decides to perform that magic trick he wants to show you."

The Riddler took a step back, a worried expression crossing his face. I stared him down until he cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned his back. The Joker slipped past me and mercilessly slammed into him from behind, smashing his head against the top of the car, nearly breaking the driver window. I let the Joker trap the Riddler against the car, deciding that I didn't want to risk getting too involved, but I did walk up behind the clown and place my hand on his shoulder calmly.

The Joker turned his head, fury burning in his eyes, but he narrowed his eyes with confusion and curiosity when he saw my serenity, hesitating.

"It wasn't a threat, Joker," I told him.

"How do you know?" the Joker growled, pressing the Riddler's face into the car, hard.

"It's a warning. That much I know. Let him go."

The Joker hesitated, narrowing his eyes, reluctant to obey me. I expected him to argue, but he released the Riddler without a word, just a sudden smack down on the car before he dropped the green-clad criminal on the ground.

"You've made your point," I murmured as the Joker stepped backwards, away from the Riddler. I made no move to assist the criminal to his feet, watching him lean against his car for a moment, eyes searching for mine before they focused. I held his gaze for a few seconds before turning on my heel and walking away, hearing the Riddler making his hasty departure.

I heard a growl behind me, and I turned, seeing the Joker glaring after his rival. He didn't look happy, all of the cheer and bouncing from earlier was gone without a trace. "What do you think that was?" I asked.

"A load of crud, put into fancy riddle form." The Joker scoffed. "I told him be-fore…people like jokes better than riddles." He spun on his heel and started away.

Blinking with surprise, I called out. "Where are you going?"

"To blow something up," he replied without looking back.

I arched an eyebrow but decided not to press. I could tell by how stiffly he held himself that now wasn't the time to pester him. He reached the stairs and raced up two steps at a time, holding onto both railings to keep his balance, and upon reaching the top, he simply disappeared down the hall without looking back.

I stood there in the hangar, looking around. Boy, I felt like an idiot, not knowing what to do for once. Finally, I gave up and walked over to my car, slipping into the driver's seat and finding a notepad and pen from the glove compartment.

From memory, I jotted down the riddle and then simply sat there and stared at it. I knew that wasn't going to help, but what else was I going to do? I loved solving puzzles, but riddles were the only puzzles I hated, cause they gave me headaches from my mind whirling in circles.

When the headache came on, I leaned my seat back and rested the notepad on my lap, turning my head and closing my eyes, running the words through my head.

Next thing I knew, I heard something rapping on the window, and I opened my eyes to see Dean looking in at me. With a groan, I pulled the seat back up as he pulled open the door.

"Sorry to bother you, Shadow," he said, casually leaning on the door.

"It's fine," I mumbled, digging my palms into my eyes. "I must've dosed off."

"Whatever you were doing seems to have bored you senseless," Dean joked.

I blinked and then frowned as my gaze dropped to the notepad in my lap. With a frustrated groan, I tossed it onto the passenger's seat and rubbed my face.

"Didn't look like something fun at all."

"It's a riddle," I told him. "The Riddler came by to warn me, but gave me the warning in his own language." I held a hand to my forehead, and I murmured, "It's giving me a headache."

"Then stop." Dean reached up and grabbed my hand, but at the same time, his hand brushed my forehead. "Whoa!" I leaned back, trying to keep my head away from him, but he managed to touch my forehead again, in the process leaning into the car and over me. "Do you have a fever?" he asked, worried.

I sighed, defeated before I shoved him off my and out of the car. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," I said, grabbing the notepad and stepping out of my Toyota. "And before you tell me I should be resting, I can't." I slammed my car door shut and walked away, but Dean hurried to catch up.

"Shadow, before I came, you were sleeping."

"Just resting my eyelids," I said, curtly. Then, I halted and turned toward him. Dean stopped beside me, looking concerned. "Are you good at mysteries, Dean?"

"You're talking to the guy who can hardly remember his own identity," he replied, lifting up his hands.

"Read this," I ordered, hitting him in the chest with the notepad, "And tell me what you think it means." I released the pad, and started away, leaving him to attempt catching the notepad before it touched the floor. He managed it and came running after me.

He followed me down the stairs from the hangar where the hidden basement – which was more of a room than an actual basement – was. I proceeded down the wooden steps, each one creaking under my weight, and upon reaching the bottom, I reached up and pulled the string to the lightbulb, illuminating the room.

The walls were plastered, the floor cement. Three cushions resided in various corners of the room, acting as the Rottweilers' beds for the night, or for the day, depending on what the Joker had in mind. The last corner held a table and a wooden chair, which someone like Dean used to rest when he decided to play with the dogs rather than succumb to boredom.

I moved straight for the table, sat down on the wooden chair, and lifted my feet up on the surface. Leaning back until the chair was supported by the wall, I rested my head back and closed my eyes.

The table creaked slightly under Dean's weight as he sat down near my feet. I waited a good minute before asking, "What do you think?"

He jumped, startled by my voice. "How did you know I was done?" he asked. I simply shrugged, keeping my eyes closed. "It looks like a bunch of gibberish, honestly. How long ago has it been?"

I opened my eyes to check my wristwatch. "An hour, maybe two," I sighed, closing my eyes again.

"You've been simply staring at it for about an hour…you didn't bother to separate the clues."

"What?"

"You have to understand that a riddle's meant to trick you," Dean explained. "The most obvious answer isn't it. Think about it. Say I give you the riddle, 'What breathes, but doesn't have a mouth?' The word 'breath' tends to lead you into thinking that the answer would be either an animal or a human, because breathing is a human characteristic. Riddles give unanimated objects human characteristics to trick you."

"So," I began, "Something that breathes, that's not a living being…that doesn't have a mouth." I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Fire?"

"That's correct," he said, grinning. "That's one trick to solving a riddle. Another one is to break up the clues. You wrote the whole riddle as one thing. Here." He took the pen and started scribbling away before handing the pad to me. He had rewritten the riddle so that each sentence was on its own line. "You have to focus on one clue at a time, write possible answers for each line, and then see what answer keeps coming, that fits each clue."

I glanced at the first line and narrowed my eyes. "Basically, you figure it out clue by clue," I said.

Dean nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching me.

"But the first clues are all about contradictions. 'It is, and it is not. It is here, but it is not. It is this, and it is that.' Like the object of the riddle is confused of who, or what, it is."

"Good start," Dean said.

"Maybe it's you." I arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you plan to do something bad to me?"

"Only if you get on my nerves," he chuckled. "The thing about riddles is that they can be filled with words that have multiple meanings. Like the fourth line, 'the green-eyed one'."

"Jealousy," I said, suddenly. "And by covering, it means-."

"Hiding, keeping secret." Dean raised an eyebrow. "So, it's secretive, 'brightly colored'…the boss?"

"No, it's 'overseen by a personage of brilliance'." I clicked my tongue. "It's one of the guys who work for the Joker." Dean and I looked at one another, eyes narrowed.

But neither of us could speak as suddenly, the three Rottweilers came charging down the stairs, barking their heads off. Dean slid off the table to confront them while I quickly jotted down the meanings of half the riddle's lines.

"Sorry, Shadow," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I said, tearing the page off the notepad and storing it in my pocket. "I'm just gonna lock myself up in a room." I thought for a moment and then added, "After getting myself a waterbottle or something."

"For the fever? Drink, Shadow."

"Of course, Dad." He smirked as I headed up the stairs.

I had just reached the bedroom I shared with the Joker when I heard glass shattering and a short cry of pain. Turning my head in alert, I saw the door at the end of the hallway fly open, smashing into the wall and leaving it with a hole. I barely caught sight of something green and blue racing out of the room and around the corner.

Pressing my forehead to the door, I heaved a sigh, knowing who it was. I stood there, waiting until he returned, turning back around the corner, walking as he wrapped his hand up in a bandage.

"Did you do it on purpose or by accident?" I asked, turning so my side leaned against the bedroom door.

The Joker looked up, eyes wide with surprise. When he spotted me, his brown eyes narrowed. "I knocked over the glass," he growled.

"I was just asking," I said, holding up my hands defensively as I turned back to the door.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I turned the doorknob.

I glanced over my shoulder. "I believe I have a fever…in case you've forgotten." He straightened, his expression hardening, insulted. I opened the door and headed in, swinging the door closed behind me. Well, almost closed as he gave in right behind me.

I sat down on my side of the bed, my back facing him as I pulled off my shoes, kicking them into the wall under the windows. As I pulled out my hair elastic, I glanced down at myself and realized I was still wearing the Joker's jacket. "You want your jacket back?" I asked over my shoulder.

"No…don't want to ruin it." He had moved into the bathroom and had turned on the faucet. I turned my head to see his face distort in pain as he hissed, holding his hand under the running water. I felt so detached from my emotions. The Joker was in pain, and I didn't feel anything.

I lied down, resting my head on the pillow. It seemed like the moment I closed my eyes, I lost consciousness, yet I was still aware of the Joker moving about the room once he was done wrapping his hand again. I twitched when glass clicked on the nightstand beside me, like earlier, but he rested a hand gently on my forehead, measuring my current temperature. It had risen in the few hours I had been awake, and I shivered at the touch of his surprisingly cold touch.

"Too much…activity for one day," he murmured. The bed sank next to me, on his side, and I felt his arms wrap around me, a sharp intake of breath coming from him when he moved his injured hand.

"Don't…" I mumbled sleepily.

"I'm here, Shadow," he whispered, running his hand through my hair. His voice was fading as I fell deeper into sleep. His mere presence was calming, comforting. My thoughts slowed, but before I truly lost consciousness, I wondered if there was a reason behind the Joker's reactions toward me.

Like usual, when I awoke, he was gone, but I had an idea of where he was located. He had placed another glass of water on the nightstand, and I drained it before I pulled on my shoes, heading out the room.

I approached the door at the end of the hallway and waited, feeling like I shouldn't be doing this. I didn't have enough curiosity, but I also didn't have enough fear to keep me away. Resting my hand on the doorknob, I leaned forward and pressed my ear to the door, listening for any odd noises. There was an uneven clicking sound from inside, but that was it so I turned the doorknob slowly and slipped inside.

The room was very small, close to being like the tech room in the Joker's old hideout. A mattress was propped against the wall for sleeping. A number of screens lined the bookcases, all of them off for the time being. The Joker sat at a desk, working on an object. His back faced the door and me, his form hunched over what he was working on.

I slipped up behind him and gazed over his shoulder. He was using a screwdriver, putting his project together. To me, it looked like some kind of remote. The Joker appeared completely unaware of my presence standing behind him; his focus was all on the remote-object. I laughed softly when I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind, causing him to jump at the sudden touch.

"Did I scare you?" I whispered teasingly into his ear.

"Scare me? No, but startle me, yes." He rested the object and screwdriver on the table, and he turned his head to look at me. "How long?"

"Maybe a minute," I replied, honestly. "What are you working on?" He shrugged, and I narrowed my eyes. "You don't know?"

"Not a clue." I caught his mouth twitching with amusement and shook my head.

"Like I'm gonna believe that."

"You should." He pushed the object to the side and clasped his hands together, resting them on the tabletop. His left hand was red and swollen, like it had been burned. I reached forward, but he saw it coming and moved his hand out of my reach.

"What did you do?"

"I told you, I knocked the glass over."

"And the glass contained what?"

He hesitated and then answered, "Acid."

I winced and looked at his hand again, realizing how shiny it looked. "What did you put on it?"

"A basic…to neutralize the acid."

"Is it helping?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't hurt as much." I reached for his hand again, slowly, and this time, he didn't pull away, letting me touch his swollen skin. A flash of the pain shot through my own hand, but it lasted only a second as I flinched away. "Can't control the shadow memories, hm?" the Joker teased as he reached into a drawer and took out bandaging.

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. "Seems like it works very well for you," I said, watching him as he wrapped his hand with the minimul of bandaging before grabbing one of his leather gloves from the side to cover his hand. "What? You don't want to look the same as the Riddler?"

The Joker raised his injured hand, turning it so I got a good view. "It's not as bulky as his."

"The similiarity is that you caused each hand injury," I teased him, smirking.

He lowered his head, looking up at me from underneath his white brow, giving me a menacing look, one that didn't faze me anymore. I continued to smile as I stepped behind him and placed my hands on his shoulders, rubbing my thumbs into his muscles. He visibly relaxed at my touch, groaning quietly as I worked my fingers into his shoulder muscles feeling how tense he was.

It made me curious. Had he always been like this before I arrived in Gotham? I moved my fingers closer to the base of his neck, receiving a pleasant, "Mmm," from him. It almost made me laugh, but I forced it back, my thoughts wandering in a different direction.

Suddenly, the Joker grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine. Caught by surprise, I couldn't resist as he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. The kiss brought back memories of the prior night, and with the memories came the emotions. I gasped, feeling like my breath had been knocked out of me, and before I could inhale, the Joker came back at me so furiously that our combined weight, leaning forward, caused his chair to fall out from underneath him.

We fell on the floor, him landing on me, but the kiss didn't break, the pain in my back mixing with the pleasure. I grabbed his face with both hands, pushing him away from me just enough so I could breathe. His lips were on mine within a flash, and I breathed in him.

He made the effort to prop himself on his arms rather than lay his weight on me, his hands grabbing at my face. Mine slipped up into his green curls, feeling just right there. His mouth moved aggressively against mine, sending rapid pulses of pleasure through me. I let my hands slid down his neck, and he pulled away slightly, a moan escaping him.

He lowered a hand to my side and farther down to my thigh, where he moved my leg over his. I gasped for air as his lips trailed away from mine, moving over to my ear and down my neck. My hands clenched, grabbing handfuls of his vest, and he smiled, his scars moving against my skin.

I couldn't concentrate on anything, but him. I felt so aware of every movement he made, where his hands and lips were. Overcoming my shock from the beginning, I released his vest and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. A moan of pleasure, from my lips, made him giggle, his leg jerking with intent on its own. His foot connected with the mattress against the wall, and it tipped over, falling flat beside us.

With a violent twist of his body, the muscles in his forearms tightening, the Joker rolled onto his back, pulling me with him and particularly throwing me onto the mattress without him. I bounced on it, and I sat up, unable to stop the laughter that burst from me. The Joker joined me as he turned over and got to his hands and knees, before he lunged and knocked me down on the mattress, trapping me underneath him.

I couldn't stop laughing, tears running down my face. The Joker giggled, grinning widely at my sudden openness, and he lowered himself over me, holding his upper body up with his forearms. Between laughs, I took a deep breath, trying to cut off the laughter. The Joker was patient, stroking my hair while he waited.

When I had regained my composure, he said, "Have I ever told you that I love it when you laugh?"

"Can't say that I remember, if you did," I replied honestly. His tongue slid out over his lower lip, his brown eyes intent on mine. I squinted slightly and asked, "Why?"

"Because, it's so rare."

"Like I'm a serious person?"

"NO-no-no-no-no, Shadow, not at all." He played with his mouth, his eyes darting up for a second before returning to mine. "It's just not…often." His mouth curved into the Glasgow grin as his face loomed into mine. His lips hovered over mine, brushing them lightly, his breath on my face. I felt his fingers caress my cheek softly before sliding underneath my head, pulling me up towards him. My breath caught in my throat as my mouth connected with his.

The kiss was different from the others, gentle with sweet passion. It was long, but felt like it had lasted for only a short time. After a hasty breath, we came together again. His tongue slid along my bottom lip, tentatively, and without hesitation, I parted my lips. My heart leapt as his tongue touched mine, an overwhelming sensation coursing through me. My fingers slid back into his green-tinted hair as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me up to a sitting position with him.

We broke the kiss for air, our foreheads pressing against one another. The Joker smiled, panting heavily as he let out a giggle. A grin crossed my lips, letting him have time to laugh, so I could catch my breath.

This experience was different from the prior night. The Joker was gentle with me, seeming to have decided that our relationship was past the rough stage. He twisted and sat down next to me on the mattress, still giggling. Unable to control my emotions, I grabbed his face, turned him towards me, and pressed my mouth to his, cutting off his laughter.

Eagerly, he kissed me back, securing his arms around me, pulling me towards him. I threw a leg over his, sitting in his lap and wrapping my legs around his waist. Our noses rubbed against one another as we kissed, panting heavily. We held one another close, bodies pressed so tightly, so perfectly.

He slid his hands down my back, around to my front, where they worked their way under my shirt, his lips traveling once again down my neck, stealing a moan from me. My hands dropped from his hair, falling to his vest, gripping a button.

Then, there was a knock on the door, a sound that snapped me back to reality. The Joker broke from me instantly and laughed as he took his hands away from me, reaching up and grabbing mine, stopping me from undoing the top button on his vest.

I blinked, confused for a moment by his reaction, like he had sensed that the mood had broken in me. "Sorry," I murmured, suddenly shy as I moved to climb off him.

His laughter cut off, and he pulled me back to him, embracing me, resting his head on my shoulder. I understood what he was telling me, the movement wasn't to bring the mood back, it was his silent way of apologizing. My arms wrapped around his neck as I placed my head on his shoulder, and he rocked me as we hugged, pushing what had happened behind us for the time being.

Then, the Joker pushed me away, holding me out at arm's length, and he grinned, his eyes twinkling. Another knock sounded at the door. The Joker pulled out his waistcoat watch from his pocket and glanced at it, heaving a sigh as he stored it away.

"Appointment?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Un-for-tu-nate-ly," he growled, suddenly irritated.

I climbed off him and the mattress, letting him pick himself up as I wandered over to the desk. He caught my arm and pulled me back, bringing his face close to mine, bending it down slightly to match my height. For a moment, we stood there, staring, our breath mingling. I wished it wouldn't end, but the Joker broke the silence as he licked his lips quickly.

"I'm gonna need my jacket back," he said quietly.

I lowered my gaze, feeling lost as I slipped my arms out of his jacket, handing it over. He took it and then cupped my chin, my eyes rising to his. He leaned in once more, pressing his lips against mine in a tender kiss before releasing me, snatching his abandoned glove from the desk, and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

I stood there, feeling numb to his departing gift. Raising my fingers to my mouth, I could still feel his scarred lips, like he had imprinted them on me. A small glow of happiness rested in my chest, but when I remembered that he had done this to me before, an angry gust of wind killed the cheerful, little flame.

Unhappily, I picked up the tipped chair and straddled it, resting my arms on the back. I sat there for a few seconds, huffing before I remembered the riddle. I pulled the ripped page from my pocket and opened it, flattening it as best as I could and reading the progress that Dean and I had made in less than five minutes.

It seeks the harmless being that exists in light and dark. The line was the only one I had understood right away when the Riddler had told me the riddle. Shadows only existed when there was some light and some darkness. Complete darkness, or lightness, didn't allow a shadow to form.

But the word 'seek' caught my eye. Why wouldn't the Riddler tell me that it searched for me? Seek had the definition of to find, to obtain, to search. When the Riddler had said the line, I had the impression that it wasn't 'seek' the word he was saying; I felt that it was more the word 'hunt'. A seeker, someone who searches, like a hunter after his prey…Hunter!

I stood up suddenly, and almost tripped over the chair I was straddling. A sense of paranoia flooded over me, and I looked about the room, feeling worried. I hadn't been concerned about him before when I first met him, because at the time, I was trying to escape from the Joker's clutches. And since then, I still hadn't really minded the fact that he didn't like me. Now, I had evidence that the guy, whoever he was, was after me; he wanted me dead.

And in the riddle, it was speaking about one of the Joker's henchmen. Did the Joker know Hunter personally and all this time, he had been toying with me, only to have Hunter kill me? If so, the mood we were caught in a few minutes ago was only to distract me.

Frantically, I searched the desk drawers, coming up with a semiautomatic handgun. Gripping it tightly, I moved toward the door and opened it slowly, checking to see if the coast was clear. Then, I bolted down the hallway, toward the hangar. If the Joker hadn't left yet, I could ask him the one question I wanted answered. Did he know Hunter?

I nearly ran right past him. The Joker had come out of another room, shutting the door and locking it with the set of keys he held. He looked startled when I skidded to a stop a few steps down the hallway from him.

As his mouth curled into a smile, I said, "Before you go, I have one question."

"Make it quick, Shadow," he told me. "I don't like being too late to an appointment."

"It's a yes or no question." I took a deep breath, feeling breathless, and then I asked, "Do you know anyone who calls himself Hunter?"

The Joker's eyes narrowed. "Calls himself Hunter? Like that's not his real name?"

"I'm sure it's not his real name."

"No, I haven't heard the name."

"Are you lying to me?"

"That makes two questions, Shadow, but no, I'm not."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling relieved. "Okay, that's reassuring." He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Don't worry about it," I told him, waving a dismissive hand at him, but he grabbed my wrist, stepping forward until he was almost pressed against me.

"What is it, Shadow?" he asked, seriously.

As I met his eyes, I swallowed nervously. Did he sense my fear, or was he just acting…protective? "I said don't worry about it." He tightened his grip on my wrist. "Really, you're going to be late."

"What. Is. It?" he growled.

"It can wait," I whimpered as his grip tightened more. His eyes hardened, and I cowered from him, pressing into the wall, wishing I could melt into it. "Um, Mister J…you're hurting me."

He blinked, eyes moving to his hand and my wrist before returning to my gaze. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I said, "It can wait."

The Joker released my wrist, and I grabbed it, rubbing it. "Sorry," he apologized before walking around me and down the hall. I half-turned, watching him go until he had turned the corner.

It seemed like our relationship was true, but it was very complicated. Despite him having hurt me a number of times, it was better than what I had received from the men before him, the ones I let myself become close to. Maybe if I stopped keeping secrets from him – like Hunter – we could make this relationship work better than it is. And maybe if he told me more about himself…like who he was in the past…

I shook my head, discarding those thoughts. I felt like the Joker wouldn't be who he is now in my eyes if he told me his past. Besides, I had someone else to focus on. If Hunter planned to kill me, now, while the Joker was gone, would be the best time.

However, as I was about to walk away, I stopped, realizing that the Joker had locked the door he had come from. I turned to it and realized that I didn't know what was in this room. Curiosity set it, and I realized that since the Joker was gone, I could break into any room without him knowing.

Eagerly, I ran to our shared bedroom and pulled out my duffel bag, yanking out my set of picklocks. When I reached the door, I started picking at the lock and had it click in seconds. However, as I touched the doorknob, I realized that there was a possibility that the Joker had locked it for a reason: to keep me out. If that was the reason, I knew what, or I should say who, was behind the door.

Lieutenant Jason Hawkins.

Lordlink13: Whoa! another intense chapter! I'll be honest, I had this finished before last Sunday, but I decided not to put it up so that I'd have time to settle in without having to panic about getting another chapter up for the next week. I hope you guys liked it. I only just started explaining the riddle. It should make a little more sense now for you readers. Let's make a bargain; you keep up leaving reviews and I'll keep writing. 'Course, we had that going since the beginning, but I wanted to make it more…professional for the sake of it. Until next time, enjoy life!