I thought, maybe in case the first chapter was ambiguous in terms of the direction this would be heading in, I'd add the second chapter just for now. I require reviews, please, cherry on top, thank you, bye. Yet again, not mine apart from Alison. Damn.

/-^l^-\ Alison's Fourth week. Tuesday. /-^l^-\

Alison felt a very peculiar feeling towards Jonathan. At first she'd felt awkward and a little uncertain over how to react to seeing him again. But never in her life had she wanted so much to wind someone up. It wasn't because of his appearance, even though he did look positively geeky and awkward. She'd been through that herself. It was the fact he tried so desperately to stop himself from seeming human. There was something about that which made Alison want to take a psychoanalytic hammer and smash his psyche to bits.

It was her fourth week. She'd slyly remarked he now had no one to sit with and tantalise now she was leaving for her own space, which luckily happened to be an office all to herself as nowhere else was free. Or so that was what Dr. Penrose said - she suspected it was the other staff's dislike of her and Jonathan would either not have been asked or continued to make a barrier between them.

Alison got the perfect opportunity when all of the staff were going out for dinner to celebrate Dr. Penrose's 59th birthday. Jonathan had rejected his invite. She spoke up about the matter during treatment rounds for those patients requiring medication (that was all of them).

Jonathan had been about to comment upon a very sly manoeuvre she had just made. Her foot elegantly flicked the medication cart and she had her back turned, leaving a perplexed Dr. Mare (a grumpy, balding, miserable, git in his 40's) to run after it as it made its way for the stairs. Very sly.

It appeared Alison had chosen to talk to him as part of a distraction.

"So, I hear you're not going to Dr. Penrose's birthday celebration," she remarked casually. He felt suddenly confronted.

"Really not my thing, I don't think I know these people well enough to go socialising with them."

"Really?" she asked lowly, "Or is it a wish not to be seen with them because you feel like they are incapable of communicating effectively with you? Or you with them? Social anxiety perhaps? Awkwardness? Timidity?" she chuckled.

Jonathan couldn't believe it. He may even have been gaping with shock, he didn't know. She was laughing at him, humiliating him. It sparked something in him that he didn't suspect he had the gumption for, ever.

"None of those reasons! I'd just be out on a limb. But if you want proof I'll go!" he snapped.

"Oh my, Dr. Crane. Are you sure you can handle it?" she mocked, raising a brow. He would have loved to have strangled her there and then. But Dr. Mare had retrieved the cart and was heading back with it.

/-^l^-\ Weekend. Saturday. Dr. Penrose's birthday. /-^l^-\

Jonathan entered the restaurant and immediately found the other staff. He approached and shook Dr. Penrose's hand, giving him the card and wine.

"Thank you," said Dr. Penrose, grinning.

Jonathan scanned the table. Alison wasn't there.

"Where's Dr. MacLeod?"

"Oh, she phoned my office this morning. Said she'd be unable to make it because her sister had come by for a few days without warning."

"Oh really?" asked Jonathan with false inquisition. Yeah right!

She was never intending to come. If there was anyone who was out on a limb, it was her. She managed to talk quite easily to him in spite of his wish that she wouldn't. Though, she seemed to have found a love for annoying him. Thoughts of drop kicking her off a cliff or grating her fingers of with a cheese grater slowly invaded his thoughts. Something. Anything to make her pay for this humiliation. What a little... bitch! EXACTLY!

"Dr. Crane!" cried a nurse. Apparently he'd been oblivious. "Are you going to sit down?"

"What? Yes," he said quickly, taking a seat.

The food was disgusting.

/-^l^-\ Following Week. Monday. /-^l^-\

"So err... how's your sister?" asked Jonathan that morning as he caught up with Alison.

"Hm?" she asked, "Sister?" she questioned, "OH-"

"Too late. You don't have a sister, or if you do she didn't just drop by conveniently on a day you were off out for dinner with your co-workers."

"Miss me?" asked Alison with a sinister look. She took a step closer and glanced up him, eyes of a seductress.

"YOU were the one who provoked me into going-"

"Provoked?" she laughed.

"You are an irritating little bitch," he hissed, then covered his mouth. That was a little venomous even for him. But the corners of her lips were curling into a smile. She was having fun winding him up this way and he was really biting at it. But he had been a little strong with his insult. "I apologise. But you knew what you were doing."

"Or maybe my sister really did drop by. After all, she lives here. But maybe I exaggerated my awareness on the matter."

Jonathan was so confused. Why would she turn around and admit the truth now to him? After she'd put him up and humiliated him like that - encouraged him to sit with a bunch of people he hated from the pit of his stomach.

Of course the answer was clear. She was having too much fun winding him up. She strutted off coolly, like she hadn't done anything wrong at all. He started plotting a few more demises for her in his imagination. All of them saw him laughing with sheer delight as she pleaded for her life before he snatched it away.

/-^l^-\

"Thank you Mr. Greer. I won't be returning for a very long while though and frankly I'm not sure I want to speak with her ever again for the rest of my life... Yes, things really are that bad. Goodbye sir," said Alison, dropping the phone down. She let out an angered sigh when there was a knock on the door.

"Dr. Mac..."

"MacLeod," hissed Alison, glaring at Dr. Penrose, "did you have a nice party?" she asked, regaining herself.

"I did thank you! Shame you couldn't make it!"

"I know. I'm sorry. My sister is a little bit spontaneous." Thank you Jonathan, for reminding me of that.

"Yes, well. I just wanted to give you this. It's a selection of inmates who you may wish to take for therapy. There are ranging difficulties but I've forewarned you of the extremity of those difficulties."

"Thank you," she said.

"Dr. Penrose!" said a voice from down the corridor.

A tall man, well built to the point of too muscular, dark hair, blue eyes and very expensive suit wandered by the door.

"Bruce! So nice to see you, what brings you here?"

"Have you honestly forgotten?" asked the man... Bruce. Alison raised a brow as Penrose blinked several times and turned to her. What a daft fool!

"Dr. Mac... Macleod!" he said, getting it right. Alison almost threw a party. "I'd like you to meet Bruce Wayne. Billionaire and our most generous money donor! Oh of course!" gasped Dr. Penrose, "that's why you're here!"

Alison's office had turned into a function venue suddenly. Bruce Wayne stepped over and extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. MacLeod." Right first time. Brownie points to this guy.

"Nice to meet you too. If you don't mind I need to go do the daily rounds."

Psychologists would assist a psychiatrist in the medication round, just to make it quick and easy. Alison didn't know if they could but they'd been doing it years and nothing had been said. In England, she wasn't actually sure they could handle medication, she had no idea. She'd been very eager to come here. Maybe things worked different here.

She bumped into Jonathan, quite literally, on the way down. He grabbed her arms and stood her straight as if she couldn't do it herself. He bit his tongue. He would not ask if she were okay. He glanced over her at Bruce Wayne.

"Who's the big guy?" she asked, pushing his hands off. Damn..

"Bruce Wayne. He's Gotham's prize billionaire, he makes millions of pounds worth of contributions to this place but nobody knows why. Guess maybe that has something to do with a psychopath killing his parents."

Alison felt a pang of sympathy. He looked so polished up and everything but having your parents murdered must have been pretty tough. It almost most likely meant he'd inherited all his money - and at least he was doing something with it.

"I frankly think he's just a airheaded pretty boy who's perched on a podium looking all nice and kind for society," finished off Jonathan, then realised he was being too casual. He stood aside. Alison's eyes fixed onto his and she smirked, just to remind him she had done what she did. She was really testing his temperament.

She slithered off down the corridor to do her duties, leaving Jonathan infuriated. He slipped back into his office but two minutes later she glanced in.

"By the way," she said, entering without his permission. His fury reached boiling point. "My sister and I haven't spoken for 12 years. She didn't come by," remarked Alison.

"Why would you tell me that!" snapped Jonathan. Alison shrugged and ran her fingers along the spines of several books.

"Did you write all these?" she asked, "I mean... just you?"

"Yes..." he replied, confused. A large number of them were on fear.

"You'd love me. I'm full of fear."

There was a lot of truth in this. Someone who was so frightened as she was claiming or seemed to be would give him a field day... but even though his hand was curled around the canister, ready to load, ready to have fun - he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was actually more fun to know this brash and sly side of herself. The self that wasn't inhibited by fears he knew she had. He knew they were deep. Her confession should have provoked him - it only deterred him though.

He'd wait. She would have a better initial breaking point and when he found it and picked at the wound, he would rip her down for being such a cocky bitch all of the time. She wouldn't get away with what she'd done.

"I was ill, over the weekend. That's the truth as well."

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