Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham City
"How much farther?"
"Relax. We're almost there."
"I'm tired. And hungry. And I have to go to the bathroom. Can we stop?"
"No."
Edward Nygma sighed and slumped down in his seat. He and Jonathan Crane had been driving for hours without a break, and it was really starting to get to the Prince of Puzzles. "Where are we going, anyway? We don't know where their base is."
"No," the Master of Fear conceded, "but it doesn't hurt to get a little farther from the city, either. That thug found us, and it's only a matter of time before they wonder what happened to him."
Eddie nodded, trying not to think of the thug's untimely end. "But where are we going to stay? You got more dilapidated looking luxury barns out there?"
"No, but we can stay at a hotel. After all, that's probably the last place they'll look."
The Riddler sat up. "A hotel? But we'd have to share a room!"
Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Yes, Eddie, you're very smart."
Eddie frowned and slumped down again.
"You better not snore."
?
When they finally reached the little run-down hotel at the very edge of city limits, Eddie was about ready to explode. Throwing open the door, he dove out of the car before it had even completely stopped and made a mad dash for the building. He didn't return until Jonathan had rented a room and gone back to the vehicle for their suitcases. "Ahhh, much better." Eddie said, as he pulled his fluorescent green case from the trunk. "What're we gonna get for supper?"
Jonathan hauled his plain brown suitcase from the car and locked it. "We'll find something." The two rogues dragged their bags into the hotel and to their miniscule room. The Riddler dropped his on the floor the second he cleared the threshold and flopped down on the bed, snatching up the small drab-colored catalogue on the bed-side table.
The pamphlet wasn't the only thing drab in this place- as a matter of fact, everything in the room and probably the entire hotel was painted in varying dull shades of tan and gray. Jonathan didn't seem to mind, but Eddie wished there was at least something green. But there wasn't. Not even a plant. His suitcase stood out like a flair by the doorway. "What are you doing?" Jonathan asked, motioning to the booklet Eddie held. "We aren't here for sight-seeing."
"I know…I'm just looking for a descent pizza joint. Aren't you hungry?" The Master of Fear sighed and turned on the sink, splashing water over his face. "I suppose."
?
About an hour later, the two rogues were full and tired. Eddie dragged himself to his bright green suitcase, and pulled out greener still (if that was possible) pajama pants and a t-shirt. Once changed, he threw himself on top of the bed, sprawling his arms out and shutting his eyes.
Jonathan cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, but I'm not sleeping on the floor. Move over."
The Riddler opened one eye. "You're kidding, right?"
"You've known me long enough to know that I don't 'kid', Eddie. Move."
The Riddler stared at the Master of Fear for a second, then reluctantly complied. "Fine. But don't touch me."
Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Why would I want to touch you?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Well, I know I'm fabulous, and…"
"Eddie?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
The Prince of Puzzles made a face and rolled over.
The Master of Fear laid down and shut his eyes. Hopefully he'd get some sleep…