Jonathan knew time wasn't an issue. He could dose her with the poison whenever he felt like it, but, in six months, he had done nothing. He hadn't even managed to drug her again. The pair of them kept their distance from each other, finishing out the college year like what had been agreed. Isabelle would often find herself trying to catch up on her lessons, her mind always being distracted during them. Jonathan wasn't as easily led. The toxin he had was being tested on his students. His small group of naively, assuming students. And, it was almost there.

He didn't ignore Isabelle, of course, that would be rude and it wouldn't get him to the result of winding her father up. He often stopped to talk to her in the hall when it was quiet, and then, Francois would appear and a grin would always settle on Jonathan's face as he watched him bark at his daughter. He popped by the library too sometimes, watching her work as he scanned the bookshelves and she remained intent on her studies.

But, they soon came to end. Six months was up and Isabelle was no longer a student. She graduated, at least. She wasn't top of her class, but, by no means, was she at the bottom. Jonathan had sat in the rows of seats with other Professors as he watched her take her degree shyly and then sit back down. Her mother was near the front, calm and composed as she watched her daughter and Francois had a proud smile on his face.

How Jonathan couldn't wait to see that removed.

...

"They say this is the first day for the rest of your life." His voice spoke as I stood with the rolled up piece of paper in my hand and away from the marquee which had been set up on the lawn. My mom and dad had met up with some friends who they once knew when they were married. They had congratulated me out of courtesy, but, I was then dismissed. I wandered through the large tent before moving onto the grassed lawn which was slightly damp from the current rain. I found myself by my mom's car in the car park, waiting for her to come back.

"And who would they be?" I wondered, resting against the hood of the car as I pulled my black tights up and under the black fitted dress which I was wearing. It was becoming increasingly sweaty underneath the heavy gown and the graduate hat which sat on top of my hair.

"Just people," he shrugged and leant against the car beside me, a few centimetres away as I placed my degree behind me and set about taking the hat off. "Congratulations, by the way, you managed to actually pass."

"You sound shocked," I commented dryly, to which he shrugged, pushing his glasses further onto his nose as he did so.

"There was a time when I didn't think you'd stick it out," he admitted. "You were in the library and were slamming books around. I didn't think you could take much more."

"That was near the last exam," I replied back to him. "I was stressed."

"And now?" he wondered as I held the hat in both hands, crossing my legs at my ankles as I smiled gently.

"I feel better," I replied, trying to be bright as I looked up to the blue sky and Jonathan's eyes followed me.

"And does your father know that you're not going into Law?" he wondered and I bit down on my bottom lip, my eyes instantly downcast as he chuckled once, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looked to the ground.

"I take that as a no," he replied and I groaned gently.

"I've told my mom and she said that's fine. She asked if I wanted a job in her accountancy firm," I snorted at the memory and he looked back at me, a grin of amusement held on his face through his plump lips. "I turned that down, too. She said we would deal with dad after graduation."

"Unfortunately, it is after graduation," Captain Obvious pointed out and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him as I ran a hand through my hair. "You'll get by with him. How do you intend to tell him about us?"

And then I remained confused. Us? He thought I was going to go home, tell my dad I hated Law and didn't intend to go into it, and then he expected me to tell him I was intending on dating a College Professor who he hates? Was he crazy?

"What about us?" I wondered, wanting him to spell it out for me and he rubbed the lens of his glasses with the sleeve of his jumper as he sniffed.

"You're no longer a student," he drawled. "I think it is clear that you need to tell him what we intend to do."

"What's that?"

"Do I have to be so pathetic and say it like everyone else does? The word is so mediocre and tame," he complained and I did roll my eyes at him this time. He looked across to me, his face cold and emotionless as I laughed once and he grinned in vague amusement.

"Dating?" I pushed him and he shrugged at me.

"Is that what you want?"

"Is it what you want?" I replied back to him and he didn't do anything. He was so confusing. Why would I tell my dad about us if he didn't want to date me? He was guarded and closed, so cold, yet, he was intense and I knew he cared...somewhere...deep down. He had to.

"I've never dated before," he replied.

"Neither have I," I replied back to him and he snorted, an eyebrow raised in scepticism. "What? I haven't!"

"Seriously?" he checked. "Have you seen yourself?"

"Every day when I try to tame my hair in the mirror," I simply responded and he rolled his eyes at me. "Look...I don't think I can tell him that..."

"So what do you intend to do?" he wondered with a shrug. "Keep it from him? Isabelle, we're not sneaking around behind his back."

"I'll think of something. I'll do something."

...

"This is some kind of joke!" my dad yelled as we stood in the front living room. He and mom had managed to reconcile to take me out for a meal to celebrate my graduation. Dad had been going on about how I would make an excellent DA when I came out my shell. He even told me that Carl Finch was a personal friend. He was going to buy me a place in the DA's office.

It wasn't me who flipped. It was mom. She slammed her knife onto her plate of lasagne and glared at my father, letting the cat out the bag. I remained silent, listening to the pair of them arguing as I looked at my fish, which was going cold. My appetite had suddenly been lost.

We had driven home in silence. Dad didn't want to make a scene at the restaurant. Mom had sat by his side, her eyes glaring into the side of his head as I shook my head, my hands holding themselves as I watched Gotham pass by at night. Once we arrived home...well...then it exploded.

"You can't control her, Francois!" Mom yelled at him in the living room and dad snorted once and shook his head.

"I don't!" he yelled back at her. "Why don't we ask her? Isabelle...why did you decide to waste three years of your life with a subject you have no interest in?"

"What?" I snapped back at him, unable to believe he had asked me that stupid question. "I didn't get a say!"

"You went along with it!" My father yelled back at me, his hands on his hips as he looked at the ground, his head moving back and forth. "I thought you were going through a phase! You always worked hard! If you didn't like it then you would have stopped!"

"Since when did you learn how to read people?" Mom snapped at him, standing by the sofa, her cheeks red and her hair matted to her face as he snorted. "The last I knew, you were a Law Professor...not Psychology!"

"I will leave that job to our good Professor Crane," he hissed, looking at me and I blushed, looking at the ground as I did so.

"The Professor who helped Is?" Mom checked with him. "He seemed polite-"

"-He's a creep!" my dad yelled. "Has he put you up to this?"

"What?" I snapped at my dad. "Jonathan doesn't tell me what to do, dad!"

"I've seen you two whispering in corridors," dad said, his hand fluttering outwards as he looked around in disgust and my eyes went wide at hearing that. "And he's Jonathan, is he, now?"

"Yes!" I yelled back, becoming exasperated with the conversation. "Considering we're dating, now!"

Crap. Oh, dear God. Had I just said that? Had I really just blurted that out? It seemed so, considering the atmosphere's mood shifted from one of anger to one of extreme hatred and rage. Mom's mouth hung open and dad's eyes glared at me.

"You're dating him?" he checked and I shrugged once. "You think I will allow this? What has he done to you?"

"He hasn't done anything to me," I snapped back. "Jonathan is only six years older than me, dad. How old is Daniel, mom?"

"It doesn't matter!" Dad snapped back as mom began to speak but didn't get a chance to. She seemed too shocked to even contemplate speaking about this revelation. "Jonathan Crane is no good for you. He's...he's not right..."

"There is nothing wrong with him!" I yelled back. I don't think my face had ever gone that high before. But, I was annoyed. He though Jonathan had persuaded me to go against him. He did that himself when he pushed me into Law. "Do you think he persuaded me to defy you? No! He didn't! I told you what I wanted but you never listened! You never listen! Jonathan understands me!"

"Don't yell at me," Dad warned me and I bit down on my cheek. "I am your father and you're not going anywhere near him."

"You don't tell me what to do anymore," I declared. I was fed up. I knew he wouldn't understand. He didn't like Jonathan, regardless of anything.

"Where are you going, honey?" Mom asked me as I grabbed my bag and car keys from the chair I had dumped them on.

"I'm going," I simply responded to her. "I can't stay here...with this..."

"You're going nowhere," my dad declared back to me and I looked at him with clouded eyes.

"Yes, I am," I replied. "You never listen to me...do you even care?"

"Yes!" he said quickly. "I'm your father. I've done the best for you-"

"-No you haven't," I interrupted. "You really haven't."

...

I vaguely remembered where Jonathan's apartment was. He had told me the street name and the number of the building. The apartment number was a different thing. I practically abandoned my car on the side of the sidewalk before locking it up and numbly walking up to the building, looking the names against the buzzers. In neat writing, there he was. Crane. Number Fourteen. I pressed down on the shiny, silver button, hearing thunder rumble in the clouds above me as my cell vibrated for the fifth time. I didn't intend on answering it. I knew who it would be.

"Hello?" his voice came through the metal box.

"It's me," I said simply back to him and I heard a sigh. "He knows."

"Come up."

...

Jonathan buzzed Isabelle into his apartment, standing back and taking a moment to compose himself as he thought about what she had just said. So, Francois knew. He wasn't too bothered. He had done what he needed to do. He had turned his daughter against him. He was slowly destroying him through Isabelle. But, the ultimate weapon of destruction wasn't in his hands. The toxin was in his bedroom, ready to inject into her. Ready to make her go mad. He could have her committed to Arkham if he wanted to. But...he had had six months to do that...and he didn't want to.

Well, Jonathan didn't want to. He had tossed and turned in his sleep, fighting the growing voice in his head which told him to do it. It wanted Isabelle to suffer. It thought she was making him weak. It thought Jonathan was even falling for her like she was doing for him. Jonathan continuously told it to shut up. It didn't know what it was talking about.

"I take it the news didn't go down too well?" Jonathan guessed as soon as he opened the door and found Isabelle stood there. She was wearing the tight fitting dress from her graduation, the sleeveless number which helped to accentuate her tiny waist and her pale face.

"He...I think he hates me..." Isabelle drawled. He had expected tears. He had expected her to be a hysterical mess, falling down in front of him and pleading for him to make it alright. Maybe, she was stronger than he had assumed.

"I doubt that," Jonathan said dryly back to her, allowing her into his apartment as he shut the door. He had removed his tie from around his neck and had the top button to his pinstriped shirt undone. "What did you say?"

"He was going on about how I should have told him outright...how he thought my hating Law was just a strop...and then...you came into it...he thought you'd poisoned my mind...I told him that I was stronger than that and that you never did such a thing...and then...well...it slipped out..."

Jonathan remained silent, closing his eyes for a second and imaging Dubois face as his daughter told him the news. Oh, how it made him want to smile. But, now wasn't the time nor the place. He had bigger things to worry about. Isabelle was in his apartment again. He could give her the toxin.

"You should sit down," Jonathan urged her, his hand on the small of her back as he pushed her to sit down on the sofa. He took a seat beside her, turning giddy at the prospect of what he could do to her.

"He does hate me," Isabelle nodded and Jonathan sat down beside her. "He hates you, too."

"Thanks for that confidence boost," Jonathan snorted once and Isabelle smiled weakly at him.

"I can't believe all of this has happened!" she groaned, dropping her head into her hands as Jonathan instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist. Where had that come from? She shyly looked up, turning her eyes to look at him and he brushed her hair behind her ears, the touch of it soft on his fingertips as he heard her breathing shallow.

"It will be alright," he promised her. "Your father has done nothing but make you miserable."

"No," she shook her head, resting by his side as his body turned rigid at the contact. "He hasn't."

"From what I've seen...Isabelle...he's made you feel weak and vulnerable because he is so controlling. You deserve better than this. You know it, and so do I," Jonathan said, his voice stern and full of control as the girl next to him wiped away a tear.

He didn't know what he was doing. For the rest of the night, he held her in his arms, both of them silent as Jonathan rested back and Isabelle placed her head onto his shoulder. That was when the demons came out to play.

The voice said he was weak and pathetic. It said that she was making him into someone he despised, someone who would do anything for a girl. Jonathan couldn't help but agree. He had the chance to use the toxin on Isabelle, but he couldn't. For the last six months he had watched her. He had become infatuated with her. He was a controlling man and he knew he could control her. She did anything which was asked of her. Yes, Jonathan knew he wanted to control her...he wanted to be the one to hold her, to look after her, to upset her, to please her. If he couldn't have her then no one could. He knew that much. There was only one issue. Her father.

He allowed Isabelle to remain resting against him before he stood up and she moved, wondering where he was going to. He said he needed a drink and he brought her some water. In the next three minutes she was asleep. He rested her on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her before he grabbed his toxin and drove to her house in the dead of the night. The leather gloves were slipped onto his hands, his glasses removed from his face.

And then he found his mask, and his inner demon took over.

...

A/N: Quite a few followers now! Thanks guys! But, please let me know what you think! Keeping Crane in character is proving to be tough now!