Disclaimer—if I owned the Riddler or any other DC Comic character, do you really think I'd be writing fan fiction?

Right, so, I originally promised my friend at least three updates tonight . . . or last night . . . . Whatever, the sun's still down. Anyway, moving on!

I'll put the other chapters up tomorrow . . . . Later today . . . arg, when the sun's up and my brain isn't all fuzzy and sleep deprived!

Angie watched Edward as he made a series of riddles and not for the first time she felt a little confused. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he responded as he glued letters to form a riddle.

Though not a plant,
It has leaves.
Though not a beast,
It has a spine.
Though many wouldn't need this thing
'Tis more valuable than wine.

"Why do you leave clues? Wouldn't it be easier to just do things without spelling out where you're going to be?"

Edward stopped gluing and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, it would be easier."

"So why do you go through all this?"

"I have to."

Angie laughed. "Seriously? You have to?"

Edward sighed. "It's not just something I do on a whim; I literally cannot commit crimes without leaving clues for Batman. I don't want to leave them, but I end up doing just that." He looked at her and for the first time, she caught a glimpse of the insanity inside him.

He wasn't right in the head, and she knew that. It was just so easy to pretend that he was normal because, well, most of the time he acted normal.

He needed a distraction. She glanced around the room and the first thing she saw was a chess set.

"Do you want to play chess?"

Edward blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"I, um, saw your set, and I haven't played in a while, so . . . . . . wanna play?"

Her distraction worked. "You know how to play chess?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"A little, yes."

Angie huffed and crossed her arms. "Why does everyone assume I don't know how to play a board game?"

They sat across from each other as Edward prepared the board for a new game.

"I know the answer," Angie said after a moment of silence.

"To what?"

"Your riddle."

"Really?" he asked skeptically. "Tell me."

"After the game," she said. "I believe white moves first, so," she moved her king's pawn forward. "I like chess. A lot of people think it's boring, but it's actually a really good way to exercise the brain. You have to think a little different, try to get inside your opponent's head. You have to imagine 'If I were them, what would I do?'"

Edward made his first move and tilted his head. "Who taught you to play?"

"Becca's grandmother," Angie answered as she moved her king's bishop. "She taught us both how to play, but chess is a game of patience and forethought, so you can imagine which one of us actually sat through an entire game."

"I can only imagine Rebecca's brain exploding," Edward chuckled as he moved again. "Was she even paying attention? Does she remember how to play?"

"Oh, she knows how to play," Angie said as she moved her queen.

"Let me guess," he responded while moving a pawn towards her bishop. "She got bored after the first ten minutes."

"First five minutes, actually." She moved her queen across the board and took the pawn in front of his king's bishop. "Checkmate."

"Ah," Edward said with a frown. "The four-move checkmate." He scowled at the pieces. "I should have seen that coming." He looked up at Angie. "You distracted me."

Angie smiled smugly. "Talking tends to distract people." She stood up, gave him a small kiss, and then started to walk out of the room. Before leaving, she stopped, turned around, and smiled. "A book."

It took Edward a few moments to realize that she'd just answered his riddle.

Edward liked Angie. He really liked her. Not just because she was pretty, either (that helped a lot, though). He liked her because she was such a surprise. On the outside was this small, almost delicate girl who could make boys (and a few men) fall for her with one bat of her big blue eyes.

The inside, though, was a completely different story. She wasn't just some bubble-headed blonde—she was actually quite intelligent. Not nearly as intelligent as himself, of course, but still clever enough to work out his riddles and beat him in a game of chess.

Angela Nightingale was a true enigma, a puzzle he was still trying to figure out—and he loved every minute of it.

A/N: Not much to say. Most updates have been about Becca, and I felt the need to get back to Angie for a bit.

Reviews are appreciated.