Whee so this is another short story about Edward and Jonathan (with added Joker).

Pairings: Crane/Nigma

Warnings: Violence, murder, a tiny bit of blood/gore (but really not much) and swearing.

The Civilian Life of Edward Nigma Part 1

Edward sighed in boredom as he looked around his office. He span the black leather chair lightly so that instead of facing the elegant ivory walls, cream carpet and tasteful black furniture the Private-Detective was looking out over the metropolis that was Gotham City. His office certainly provided a breath-taking view; even though it was only from the 42nd floor and there were much taller buildings surrounding the one he resided in, the sprawling labyrinth of buildings were laid out like an endless scar on the Earth.
Edward Nigma didn't think he was a Romantic; he didn't find the hum of life beautiful or the stubbornness to survive of the people of Gotham City inspiring, but instead found the population to be worthless, useless wastes of space that were so stupid it was infuriating. Everything they did seemed moronic and Edward had been quite happy to spend his days proving this as the Riddler; with his fun little games and toys that any semi-intelligent person should have been able to figure it out, but no, the people of Gotham were too dim and brainless and the Riddler did them a favour by ending their pointless lives.
Evil? He thought he should be given a medal for the work he had been doing! Like the Batman weeded out the corrupt and dangerous, the Riddler had weeded out the unintelligent and obtuse.
But of course, the mindless population saw him only as a threat and malevolent and had him sent to a hospital (Edward snorted in amusement at the thought of anyone every actually getting any better in Arkham Asylum) and when he escaped from that hospital, they sent him to another. And another. And another, until eventually, somehow, they managed to "cure" the Riddler of his evil ways.
With a sigh, Edward turned his back on the city and reached for one of the draws in his desk and pulled out various bottles full of tiny little tablets until he found the bottle he was after. His hand only shook very lightly as he dry swallowed two of the white pills, while he spilled the rest onto the dark cherry-wood desktop. Absentmindedly Edward instantly started to rearrange the pills in a certain pattern.
He leaned back in his chair and he let his head rest on the back of the chair and his eyes close. A breathy chuckle escaped Edward as he mumbled "I don't miss it. I did the right thing in starting this business." The words rang hollow around the room and for a split second, Edward almost felt a longing for the random safe-houses he used to use, or when they were compromised, a random slum dweller's house, but then the medication kicked in and the desire to punish the unintelligent, the desire to be acknowledged as smart, and in control and the desire to break free vanished along with the faint tremors that had been wracking his body.
When Edward stood up and headed towards the door he unconsciously readjusted his normal suit (a white shirt and a black jacket and a black tie and black trousers and not a single hint of green) and picked up his normal bowler hat (black, just black) and his normal cane (wooden, painted black and not a single hidden trick to it) from the hat-stand.
Without a glance behind him, Edward exited his office, the question-mark made of white pills left all alone.

Edward nodded to his sectary (a quiet woman who had, not only passed the various riddles he had set, but also apparently understood his strange compulsions) when she passed him his black-leather gloves. "The meeting with the informant is going ahead then?" She asked, her pen poised to take notes. "You said yesterday that she would most probably be dead by now."
"Yes indeed. If he doesn't know where to find the woman then probability of her being alive is less than a 1% chance." Edward answered, some-what dismissively before he walked out, not bothering to say goodbye.
When he eventually made it down to the ground floor (why is it that elevators are either obscenely slow, or so fast you get whiplash?), Edward took a deep breath of the (polluted) city air, fixed a condescending smirk on his face and started off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. He didn't want to be late, now did he?
It took Edward a good half an hour to navigate his way though the dank and reeking back-alleys of this area of Gotham before he came across the shoddy street he was meant to be meeting the informant in.
A simple glance told Edward that the man was not there and Edward sighed in annoyance. The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time in the filthy back-end of nowhere and run the risk of bumping into people who had a grudge on him (and there were plenty of them…).
The moment Edward heard the incoherent, terrified screams he froze, paralysed with shock and disbelief. Then he started to run. As fast as possible he tried to escape because those screams sounded like someone was being forced to face their worse nightmares completely against their will, they sounded like a Doctor Jonathan Crane's patients."I told you we should have waited" Joker licked his lips, but didn't take his eyes off the screaming man, who was writhing around on the floor, seemingly trying to scratch his own eyes out.
"I thought his mind would be stronger. This is just a low dosage." Scarecrow replied almost distractedly, his head titled slightly, fascinated by the fear only this man could see. "If he broke this easily then I doubt he would have been any…fun, to question anyway."
Both villains jumped back when the deranged man suddenly surged upright and lunged away from the hallucinations that had control, but unfortunately, this action sent the man careering straight into Edward (who apparently has no sense of direction and had managed to run toward the source, not away).
The man grabbed hold of Edward and started to claw at the detective's body, assuming the thing he was holding onto was just trying to hurt him. And, in all fairness, Edward did deliver a ferocious blow to the man's head with his cane which made the madman let go. Alas Edward was never one for doing a half-assed job, and considering the amount of blood gushing from the site of impact and the fact that the poor bugger's mental capabilities were now most likely destroyed, Edward flicked his jacket open, pulled out a simple handgun and shot the man in the head. As soon as the muzzle cooled down a bit, the gun was replaced back in it's holder and Edward stared mournfully at the snapped cane in his hands. "I only just got this one. My psychiatrist gave it to me for making such good progress."
Edward suddenly realised, with horror that if the blood got on his gloves it could destroy them, so he flung the cane covered in blood (and bits of head) away from himself, which was when he noticed the two villains staring at him.
"Oh sodding hell."

Crane sighed lightly and took a good look at Edward (someone he hadn't seen in quite a while) "You would appear to be doing…well for yourself, all things considered." The contempt in his voice was not hidden in the slightest.
Edward just smirked at Crane. "I would say the same for you, but, my dear doctor, you would appear to be looking rather…ruffled. Can you not find a safe place to hide?"
Even though Edward could not see it through the burlap mask Crane was wearing, the Doctor was scowling. "Watch your mouth detective. Your mind is even more fragile now you're pretending to be one of them." The words were said with an almost gleeful tone, but the mood was quickly killed by the Joker.
"Now now Doctor," the Joker laughed again "we're all friends here. We should play a game~!"
While the Joker was talking, Edward had begun to back away from the dead informant (part of his mind whispered that his client would be a bit upset to find out that his fiancé wouldn't be found, but oh well). "I'm terribly sorry gentlemen," Edward interrupted the two villains when he was a safe enough distance away "but I really must be going. Prior arrangement, dead women, probably angry clients and all that. I would say it was enchanting to see you again, but well…"
"You're leaving?" The Joker's smile got a bit more manic "Before we can have our fun?". Edward looked back to the Joker and shuddered slightly. "No offence but I'd rather see Batman than you stay and have 'fun' with you."
The Joker laughed like Edward had told a particularly good joke, but the moment he stopped, a rather threatening carving knife was pulled from the inside of his coat. "Now that's no way to talk to your friends, Eddie-boy." And with that disturbing speed, the Joker had managed to close the distance between them quite well, until Edward calmly shot the Joker in the leg. When the psychopathic clown hit the floor, writhing in pain, Edward once again coolly aimed and shot him in the opposite foot, just to make sure.
"Now that wasn't very nice." the Joker managed to gasp out, as he clutched at his leg with one hand and attempted to reach his foot with the other.
Edward smirked and shook his head. "It's not a very nice city." Almost as soon as he had finished speaking, without a qualm, Edward raised the gun and aimed it steadily at Crane's head (the Scarecrow had been attempting to get close enough to send a burst of gas in Edward's face). "I don't know how thick your mask is, John, but I doubt it will stop a bullet."
For reference, Jonathan seemed to have no issues with a gun being pointed at him, but simply raised his hands in a placating manner and stepped back. "You seems to be fairly confident with a gun now. I remember once you said you didn't like them." Crane said thoughtfully.
"I don't." Is the answer he got from Edward who looked torn between running and continuing the conversation. "I just realised that it's safer to have something that will instantly kill a person from a distance." His eyes flicked to the Joker quickly, as if assure himself the crazy clown was still sitting on the floor. "And it's a bit more legal than throwing a stick of dynamite or something." He shrugged a shoulder.
The Joker laughed suddenly, capturing the two's attention. "I thought you were meant to be reformed. A brand new person, a lawful person."
Edward faltered and lowered the gun ever so slightly. "I'm still…" He trailed off, his eyes darted nervously between the two villains. "Sometimes I…slip up. But it's only with criminals!" He quickly tried to justify his actions (mainly to himself). "I don't make the first move. They attack first. I have every right to kill them."
Crane, being the master of the mind (conscious, subconscious, you name it) instantly picked up on this weakness. "And did your psychiatrist tell you this, Edward?"
The averted eyes and faint tremor in the once-stable hand was answer enough. "Are you trying hard not to disappoint her?" Crane asked in a soft voice.
"Him." Edward muttered and the gun dropped even further down.
"He's controlling you through your desire to feel acknowledged. He rewards you with gifts like that" Crane gestured to the broken cane "to condition you into being a model citizen, is that right, Edward?"

Again, Edward didn't answer, but Crane knew exactly what to say. "You've changed a lot Edward. You're much more mature than when we last met. I think this little break from crime has done you good."
"Stop it. Stop talking like I've only stopped for a short while. I've left that life behind. I'm not a criminal anymore." Edward nearly yelled and raised the gun back up to Crane's head.
"Hmmm I wonder." Was the only answer he got before (yet again) he was distracted by the Joker, who was trying to stand up.
"The floor just isn't my scene, y'know?" The clown muttered as he staggered against one of the walls. "This has been fun."
Edward shook his head in a helpless manner. "I don't believe you two. I really don't. I have to go." Edward was mentally kicking himself. He should have just run away at the first chance. Anything was better than actually talking to these two.
Of course, Crane didn't seem to like this idea. "But Edward we've only just started to make progress. If we stop now then by the next session a lot of the progress will have degraded."
"Oh just keep talking Jonathan. I've always wanted to know if shoot you would shut you up."
"You would make a good partner, Edward." Crane continued on, completely ignoring Edward's threats. "You could form an alliance with the Joker and I. We could cause destruction on such a grand scale."
The Joker just laughed his creepy and psychopathic laugh.
"Don't you miss feeling powerful?" Crane asked, his voice soft again.
Edward shoot his head "No; I have more control now and that means I have more power." As if to prove this, Edward readjusted his grip on the gun.
Crane sighed before he asked if he could remove his Scarecrow mask. With Edward's consent he quickly removed the burlap sack and continued on with his questions, carding a hand through his hair. "You can't be making much money in your job; too many people distrust you because of what you are."
"Was, Crane, what I was. And I'm fine. I have enough money to live comfortably." The first part of the sentence was said in such an exasperated tone that Crane had no choice but to grin at it. "Ah, so people still don't trust you though."
Edward laughed (it sounded almost a tad self-depreciative) "It's not like they did before. But to hell with trust. I get more respect as I am now anyway."
"Yes, but don't you miss making people be afraid of you? Having them begging on their hands and knees to spare them and watching as they realise you wont?"
"I'm not actually like you, Crane. I don't get off on other people's fear. And as I said, I'm respected now. That's better than fear." Even as Edward said the last sentence, he didn't believe his own words. Of course he missed everything that Crane has been saying, but he had a good life now. A stable life that was (more importantly) a lawful life.
As Crane continued to harass Edward with questions, the tiny tremors that Edward would normally quell with medication (the medication he left on his desk, he though annoyed) was getting worse until he had to lower the gun (obviously not because he was afraid that his finger was twitching bad enough to accidentally pull the trigger, of course not). The Joker, of course, was of no help at all to Crane's plan, as his comments seemed to be completely random and not much relevance until when there was a brief moment of silence (Edward and Jonathan were staring at each other with hatred and UST, at least that's what it looked like to the Joker) "Don't you miss whacking people over the head with that nifty cane of yours and it not breaking? And it used to have such nice tricks before."
Both Edward and Crane pause at that comment because neither can remember Edward's cane ever being "nice"; the fact that it could shoot a poisonous dart, various gases (poison, sleeping, smoke) and generally held multiple explosives lead to the general impression of "not nice". Almost uncomfortably, Edward shifted, and his voice took on a wistful tone. "I do miss my cane. I can't take it out in public anymore because apparently it's not in accordance with the law…"

In that short moment where Edward was distracted (and not pointing a gun at him) Crane was his chance, darted forward, elbowed Edward in the face and tore the gun from him.
Edward swore loudly and clutched at his bleeding nose, but despite the pain he was in he instantly backed away as he tried to put some distance between him and the now even more armed Scarecrow.
"Now that's just not fair!" The Joker complained, as he glared at the gun. "I want one. I'm not even armed anymore!"
Edward threw a confused glance at the Joker. "…So I suppose the knives and whatever else you have hidden away in your coat don't count then? Besides, if you can make a pencil into a weapon, I doubt you'll ever really have any trouble being 'unarmed'." The detective glanced back at Crane. "So now you have the upper-hand in pretty much every single way, what are you planning on doing? Just because you've managed to make me talk about my life doesn't mean I'm going to drop everything and join you like a little dog you can command."
"I would be so disappointed if you did." Crane answered with a smirk on his face.

When Mr. Nigma didn't return from his meeting with the informer, his sectary wasn't too worried. Her employer often would go off for hours on end following up leads on a case.
She shut down her computer and looked at the closed door that led to Mr. Nigma's office. "He'll be back tomorrow." She tried to convince herself. "Just like every other day, he'll be waiting for me tomorrow."
He had always been a good employer; as long as she didn't do anything he dubbed 'moronic' she was fine. He even would talk to her about so many different things, and even though she didn't understand most of the time it was nice to just listen to him and see him so happy.
When the sectary left the office that night, she was never able to rid herself of the feeling that something wasn't right. She never did see her employer again.

To Be Continued in Part 2
...aka: When I actually write more.

=D Hope you enjoyed the first segment of this story, once again it was a prompt for the Batman Kink Meme over on Livejournal. Go check it out, there are so awesome stories there~

See y'all in part 2!