"Do you know a Professor Crane?" I enquired from my father as I cleared the table that evening. After a dinner of chicken curry, it was safe to say that I should leave the glasses out for water. My dad always knew how to make an extra spicy curry. I placed his plate on top of mine as I walked over the wooden floor to the sink and dad remained seated, his eyes narrowed as he thought about who I was speaking of. He remained holding onto the glass of water, his cheeks tinted red as he loosened his tie.

"Jonathan?" he checked with me. "He teaches Psychology, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," I nodded; dipping my hands into the soapy water with the dishcloth as my dad remained seated, rocking back and forth in his chair as he did so.

"What about him?" Dad wondered and I bit down on my lip. I hadn't expected that question. Did I tell him about the odd thing which he had said to me? Was it odd? Was it some kind of Psychology joke that I didn't understand? I don't know.

"Nothing," I replied, trying to be airy. "I just bumped into him today and forgot he was a Professor. He looks a little young, though," I added on and my dad snorted loudly and rolled his eyes. I placed the plates onto the steel draining board as my dad took a sip of his water.

"He's twenty six, I think," dad informed me and my mouth hung open slightly. He was only six years older than me and he was already a Professor? That was too crazy.

"How did he manage that? Mom said it took you years to become a Professor," I informed him and I thought I saw him wince at the mention of my mother.

"It did," he snapped once. "I don't know how he did it. All that I know is that he graduated a year early. He's extremely smart and not afraid to show it."

Did I detect some form of resentment from my father? The tone of his voice certainly suggested just that.

"How is your mother?" he asked me out of the blue. I almost dropped the plate which I was drying but I gulped once and placed it into the cupboard above the microwave.

"She's good," I informed him. "You know that she's gone to New York for the weekend, right?" I checked with him and he scoffed.

"It's only Thursday!" he exclaimed.

"A long weekend," I clarified with a shrug. "She's gone with Daniel."

That seemed to shock my dad slightly. He remained silent for a second, his hands pushing his blonde hair behind him as he undid another button to his white dress shirt.

"Daniel?" he checked with me and I nodded. "Is he the guy who works in the office with your mother?"

"Yes," I admitted. I knew what dad thought. I wasn't an idiot when they broke up. "You know they've only just started dating."

"That's the front which your mother has given you," he muttered and I slammed the cupboard door shut.

"Dad!" I exclaimed. "Mom promised me that nothing had gone on between them whilst you were married. I believe her and so should you."

That seemed to shut him up. I knew he didn't believe her. It was one of the reasons why their marriage had been rocky. It had been on the bumps before he accused her of having an affair. They worked long hours, rarely spoke and had begun nitpicking at every tiny thing. And then there came the accusation.

"Don't you have some catching up to do?" Dad snapped at me, knowing that there was no use in arguing over mom with me. He won every single argument which we had but I would never back down on that issue.

"I suppose," I complained and dad nodded and pointed to the cream coloured hallway where the stairs were situated.

"You had best go upstairs and do your work then. I'm setting you a paper tomorrow for over the weekend so you'll need to know what to write about," he informed me as I picked up my glass of water and moved over to the steps.

"And pick your feet up when you walk!"

...

The library was intolerable. I hated going in there to study and write papers. The smell of it was so old and musty and it was always full. There were never any seats. Gotham University seriously needed an expansion. My dad had been true to his word on the Thursday night. So, on the Friday morning a paper was set. The entire lecture hall had grumbled and groaned but there was no point in doing so.

The majority complained that their weekend had been ruined and others complained that it was too hard. I was in the section for both of their complaints.

My last lecture was after dinner and then I could finish early, but, until then, I was stuck in my car, flicking through text books as I balanced my notepad against my steering wheel and made a start on the paper.

"Miss Dubois?"

There was a sudden knock against the window of my car and I felt my heart skip a beat. I had been too focused on my work to even notice the outside world around me. The text book which I had been handling fell from my hands and I knocked my notepad forwards, pressing on the horn of my car as it let out a blaring noise. I jumped back and closed my eyes for a second before turning the ignition of my car on and rolling down my window.

He was grinning. Clearly, he thought I was a complete moron.

"Yes, Professor?" I wondered and he tried to repress the smirk which was coming from his lips as he bent over slightly, his glasses moving down his nose as he did so and his hair flopping into his face.

"I wondered if you were alright?" he enquired. "I saw you sat in your car and I wasn't sure whether you were here by choice or if you had broken down."

Oh. That made sense, I suppose. I shook my head at him and indicated to the passenger seat where my books were splayed.

"I'm trying to do a paper," I said. "The library was full."

"Oh yes," he said with a roll of his eyes. "It is always full. Clearly an expansion is needed, but, not thought necessary."

Yeah, okay.

"I suppose so," I responded. "So I'm fine."

"That's a lie," he said quickly and looked away from my eyes, his blue orbs scanning around the car park as I arched a brow at him.

"Is it?" I responded and he looked back at me as if he had some burning question to ask. Before he responded, he looked up to the black sky before turning to look down at his shoulder where a large droplet had fallen.

"I had best be getting in," he said with haste and I nodded once at him as he pointed to the sky. "I don't feel like getting wet."

"No. I suppose not."

...

The library was empty by the end of the day. My theory of going home early hadn't worked, instead, my dad had told us of extra resources which we could find in the library to help us with our paper. And so, not wanting to anger the good Professor anymore, I went to the library and began to work on the paper. The next thing I knew, I was being chucked out of the library for staying too long. That was a surreal moment, indeed.

I placed my coat over my arm and my satchel on my shoulder and headed back to the car park. I remained hidden under the glass shelter outside the college front, looking onto the rain as it poured down profusely and I took a deep breath, making sure I had my keys before running to my car.

Normally, parking at the back of the car park was a good idea. You were hidden and no one could scratch your car. But, today, it was the worst idea I had thought up. As soon as I sat in the driver's seat I pushed my curled, matted hair from my face and checked my reflection in the mirror. I was soaked.

With a roll of my eyes, I turned the key and waited for my Mercedes to start up. But it wasn't having any of it. I turned the key again, the same noise echoing into my ears as I shook my head.

"No!" I snapped. "Please work!"

But it wasn't having any of it. How wonderful. I climbed out the car again, shutting the door as I opened the bonnet and looked into the mechanics of the car. I don't know what I was hoping to find. I was no mechanic and I certainly didn't know what to look for. I would just have to call my dad.

"Miss Dubois?"

Oh Jesus Christ. Not again.

"Is something wrong with your car?" his voice shouted loudly above the noise of rain banging on the rooftops and pavement of the car park as he pulled alongside the bonnet of my car and I nodded once, my hand moving down my face to push the water from my vision. But it was replaced there again in another three seconds.

"It won't start!" I complained, sounding like a petulant child as he watched me. I must have looked a sight. I knew I felt like one.

"Well...there's no one around..." he informed me. "I'll give you a lift home. You can come back to your car tomorrow."

I bit down on my bottom lip. What was there to be worried about? He was a Professor, for crying out loud. He was just being a kind human.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure," he informed me bluntly and I nodded in agreement, slamming the hood of my car down and then rushing back to the driver's side. I pulled out the key and grabbed my satchel before locking it up and checking it was secure. His car wasn't new but it wasn't old. It wasn't a death trap, anyway. It was small and smelt like books, the seats were made from a comfy material which I was now managing to soak.

"Thanks," I muttered, dropping my bag into the footwell and placing my key into the side pocket as he nodded once at me and then began to focus on his driving.

"Why were you here so late?" he asked me and I shrugged, looking out of my side window as I did so and he remained looking to the front.

"I was researching in the library."

"I thought it was full?"

"It's never full at the end of the day, apparently," I informed him in a mumble and he chuckled once. "Why are you still here?"

Was that out of place? It felt wrong. He was a Professor. He didn't expect to be questioned by a student. But, he answered my question as if it were normal.

"I was researching," he simply responded and I looked over to him where a smirk formed on his lips. Was it supposed to be funny? "I do have a question though, Miss Dubois."

"Isabelle," I said quickly back to him and he looked over at me as I laced my hands together in my lap and shivered slightly. "I'm called Isabelle."

"Well...Isabelle..." he wormed the words out as if it was difficult to say my first name. "I was just wondering why you always seem to be alone when I see you. Research suggests that, if anything, you should have a posse following you around at all times."

I remained staring at him as he pulled up to a red light and he looked at me through his glasses, waiting for an answer which I didn't have as yet. What an odd question.

"I...well...I did have friends...but my parents divorced...and I'm the daughter of a Professor...so..." I trailed off and he nodded once, looking back up to the red light with intent as his face scrunched up.

"Say no more," he muttered back to me. I wasn't planning to – I thought silently.

"What made you wonder?" I pushed him, knowing that I was definitely breaking some of the rules between a Professor and student. I wasn't supposed to push him, but, I didn't think he was supposed to ask me questions like he had done.

"Well, I always see you alone yet you aren't...well...I mean..." he shrugged and then took a deep breath before he began to drive off again. "You're blonde and you're not unattractive, are you?"

Is that supposed to mean something?

"You think people accept people judging by looks?" I checked with him, my voice bland and blunt and he shrugged again, indicating to turn right.

"They did back in my day," he replied. Considering 'his day' was basically yesterday.

"I don't mind," I responded, hoping to end this odd conversation. "I've got less than six months left at college."

"And then you go out into the big world and have to find a job," he informed me and I held back the urge to roll my eyes. I've had this discussion with my father too many times for me to even keep count.

"What did you mean yesterday?" I suddenly wondered as we came to another traffic light and he leant to the edge of his seat, looking out the window before he leant back.

"Traffic," he complained. "We could be here a while. It looks like an accident ahead.

"You didn't answer my question," I informed him and he smirked once.

"I don't want to offend you," he replied. "You're not cut out for the Law."

"Why not?" I asked him instinctively and he took his glasses off as they steamed up and he rubbed them on his sleeve.

"You can either work for the corrupt lawyers, which your father won't let you do. Or you could apply to become a DA, but state funding isn't what it used to be and you don't have the spirit. You're too meek and shy. You're not interested in the Law either. That will show."

How did he know that? How did he know any of that? The last few times he had seen me was when I had been studying. I had even stayed at the library until late! Surely that showed I was dedicated.

"I'm a Psychology Professor," he responded, placing his glasses back on as I began to shiver and he looked across to me. Did that explained everything? "It is clear you're only studying Law because your father wants you to and you don't know how to defy him and you can't. I've met him. He's a stubborn man."

"You certainly have me figured out," I mumbled back, looking at my lap and he coughed once.

"I can read people," he simply spoke. "The mind is a powerful thing."

"You're right," I admitted to him. "I don't want to go into Law. I never have. It is my father's dream and not mine."

"So what do you want to do?" he enquired and I slumped further back into the seat, pushing my hair behind my ears as I wrapped my arms around my body. Why was it so cold in here?

"I don't know," I admitted. "I've never really tried anything other than Law and I know that I don't like that."

"You're cold," he simply informed me and I nodded in agreement. He undid his seat belt and I watched him.

"I left my coat in my car...I just grabbed my bag..."I simply spoke as he removed the blazer which he was wearing and he handed it to me.

"Your father would kill me if I let you catch a cold," he explained to me. "And he knows the Principle of the University."

"Thanks," I said, shrugging into the jacket which was slightly too big. I pulled it tightly around me, inhaling the smell of some kind of aftershave.

"Forget it," he replied. "It's 218 Everson Way, isn't it?" he checked with me and I nodded at him.

"How do you know?"

"I had to drop by and give your father some papers one day," he spoke nonchalantly. "I have a good memory."

We spent the rest of the ride in silence. I remained looking out the window as Professor Crane remained focusing on driving through the rain which didn't seem to want to ease up. He finally pulled outside of my dad's house and turned the ignition off as I shrugged out of his jacket and rested it behind me on the seat.

"Thanks for the ride," I said politely.

"Don't forget to go back to your car when the rain eases up." He lectured me slightly. "You know what Gotham is like."

"All too well," I agreed and slung my bag over my shoulder and he smirked as I climbed out the car and ran through the rain to my dad's house.

...

He didn't know what had possessed him to offer the girl a lift home. He never did things like that. He enjoyed being a loner. But, he supposed, it was the least he could do considering he had vandalised her car. There was something about her. She was shy and quiet. She refused to say no to anything even if she didn't want to do it.

He didn't need to do this.

But he wanted to.

She would be excellent in his experiment. She wouldn't say no.

He watched her as she ran into her house and shut the door behind her and he grinned. The toxin would be done soon. So soon.

...

A/N: Thank you to my three reviewers! I didn't think I'd get any but thanks a lot you guys! I know the first few chapters won't be that interesting but it will get good! Please do review!