Hey, guys. Sorry about not updating. I've been a bit busy with preparing for my graduation from high school, as well as various tests and other projects that I've had going on, as well as a bit of writer's block. But don't worry. This story won't be done until I've said its done, and not a minute before! So, sit back and enjoy the story. By the way, most of the characters in this story, save for Crane, Harley, Ivy, and Tetch are based off their appearance in the Arkham series, just for those who don't know. I've decided this because Crane would be a bit too frightening and a bit ridiculous to go around town in his Arkham appearance, what with it being winter and all. Harley and Ivy's other costumes are a bit too slutty for my taste, and Tetch looked like a hobo in his appearances. Everyone else's costumes I've either liked or don't mind as much.

The sun was just setting when Becky made her way back to the hideout.

She rapped twice, once, and then twice again, alerting the thug on the other side of the door that she was an ally.

Quickly, lest the Bat happened to start patrolling and happened to see their hideout, she raced inside, as the thug bolted the door.

It still surprised her sometimes that Crane had kept his word. None of the henchmen had dared touch her, for fear of what the Scarecrow would do to them if they disobeyed.

And it was little wonder. She had seen first-hand what the Scarecrow could do, and even she was sometimes frightened by what could possibly happen if she had gotten on his bad side while she was allied with him. She counted herself lucky that he didn't seem to mind her as much.

But still, she had to wonder why. Based on his interactions with her and Tetch, he was quite a recluse, and preferred it to stay that way.

She wasn't surprised to see Jonathan in his usual place, perched on a large stool in his underground lab, mixing different chemicals together and recording the results.

Becky was only allowed on one condition to enter his lab, and that was if she didn't touch or hinder his experiments, whether it be making his chemicals for the fear toxin, or testing it on the random hobo he sometimes brought in. She knew the later was wrong, but if he didn't get someone, he would have to test it either on himself or her, if he was desperate. And after her last encounter, she would rather not experience that again.

"Crane?" she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he reacted immediately to by nearly spraying her in the face with fear toxin.

"Becky, what have I told you about physical contact?" He growled.

"Not to try," she recalled.

He nodded, setting the toxin aside. "Now, why are you here?"

"Well, you said we would be going to the Iceberg Lounge by 7:00," she replied.

"Yes, and…"

"It's 7:00 right now."

Crane glanced at his watch with surprise, before sighing. "So it is." He turned to her. She had on her Scream costume under her grey coat with the mask slightly sticking out of her right pocket. "Everything set?"

She nodded. She had mini-fear toxin capsules in her left pocket in case of the Bat. It wouldn't last as long as the spray, but it would give them enough time to make a getaway.

"Good. Now, let's go," he said, leading her out the door towards the Iceberg Lounge.

The Iceberg Lounge was ordinarily a very high-class establishment, serving only the best of the best in return for a hefty amount of cash from their guests.

But at night, when all the wealthier guests went home, the criminals would gather together to discuss their plans, tell tales of how they (almost) killed the Bat, or just drink their troubles away.

The room was laid out in a circular plan, with tables congregating around the walls. The centermost portion of the room held a gigantic iceberg that floated lazily around the icy pond. The lights bathed the room in a soft, icy blue, with neon lights around the bar displaying the types of beer and wine available. Music radiated from the antique jukebox near the iceberg, soft jazz relaxing the criminals and getting them in the mood to talk.

Becky immediately felt like a beggar inside the palace of a king. She had never been in someplace so grand before in her life. Even the grand Solomon Wayne Courthouse was nothing compared to this place. "Are you sure I'm allowed to be here?" she asked Crane, feeling very small in comparison to this grand place.

Crane nodded. "You're fine. Most of the rogues come here." He glanced over at her. "You'll blend in perfectly."

She was about to reply when a black and red blur launched itself at Crane, screeching all the while.

"Long time, no see, Professah," Harley squealed, swinging Crane around in a death hug.

"Child, please…let me…go," Jonathan croaked, her grip around his torso squeezing the air out of his lungs. That girl had a strong grip.

"Oopsy! Sorry, Professah," she replied, smiling sheepishly as she let the older man go.

Becky felt the air knocked out of her as Harley turned and immediately pounced on her. "Hi, there!" she greeted, grinning at her new friend.

"Um…hi," Becky replied, uncertain how to react to this impromptu reaction. "Can you please put me down now?"

"Okey dokie," she sing-songed, leading her towards her table. "I'm Harley, by the way. What's your name?"

"Scream."

"Oooh, that's such a cute name," Harley squealed, nearly breaking Becky's eardrums. "You've gotta meet my friend Red. She's a riot."

"O-okay," Becky stammered, uncomfortable with the woman's energy. She wasn't used to dealing with this much energy in a single person. Even Jervis appeared calm compared to her, and he was the Mad Hatter. If she wasn't holding onto my arm, she'd probably be bouncing off the walls like rubber, she thought, trying to keep her balance as Harley raced across the room towards her seat.

As Harley pounced into her seat, nearly decapitating Becky with her abrupt halt, she frowned, as she saw no one in the other seat.

"Aww, I thought Red would be here," she pouted, her lower lip puckered sadly.

"Um…if you don't mind me asking, who or what is Red?" Becky asked, curious. "And is she red? Or is that just a nickname?"

Harley stared at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing. "Hahaha, no, she's not red, or, at least, her body isn't. Just her hair. That's why I call her Red. She's really Poison Ivy. Oh, look, here she comes now."

As Harley had said, a very voluptuous woman had decided to join them at their table. She looked normal, compared to some of the other rogues, except for the leaf-like patterns on her body and the greenish tint of her skin. She had on a leafy dress that looked much like a one-piece bathing suit without the straps. And, like Harley had said, she had red hair that seemed to make her head look like it had a bad fight with a flamethrower.

"Hey, Harley. Who's the new girl?" Ivy asked, her sensual voice caused many of the male patrons near her to look at her with lust positively dripping from their eyes.

"Oh, this is Scream. She's new," Harley explained, grinning at her new friend. "She came in with Professah Crane."

"Really?" said Ivy, looking at Becky with a critical eye, sizing her up.

Becky gulped. She was being assessed by one of the most infamous of the rogues, but she was also surrounded by not one, but two rogues that she had just met. If they suddenly decided they didn't want her in their group, she had no defense again them.

Ivy finally leaned back. "Hmm, you seem nice. Alright, I'll let you stay."

Becky, who had been holding her breath the entire time, let it out in one big sigh of relief. "Thanks, I guess."

As the three began to talk, Becky started to relax. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.

With Becky distracted by Harley, Crane maneuvered his way through the crowded bar towards the back. He had arranged a meeting with the Penguin to discuss weapon plans.

The Penguin was a squat, little man, with a long pointy nose that almost looked like a beak. He was dressed in a large black tuxedo in the most current fashion of the rich and famous in Gotham. A long cigarette pipe, complete with cigarette at the very tip, perked from his mouth, which was drawn in a long, low scowl at the paperwork in front of him. A long top hat graced his head, almost bigger than or equal to the height of Jervis' blue top hat. Two bodyguards flanked him, both making sure that their boss was protected at all costs.

Not that it would matter, Crane thought, as he weaved his way through the throng. The man's more likely to die from cardiovascular problems or cancer than an armed gunman.

The Penguin looked up from his paperwork as Crane's shadow, cast by the overhanging light, drifted towards him. "Well, well, if it isn't the Scarecrow, returned from 'is cornfield. Did ya finally decide to rejoin the land of the livin'?"

"Cut the pleasantries, Cobblepot," Crane barked, a scowl on his face. The Penguin was one of the many villains that tried his patience, and the less he saw of him, the better. "I only came here to get information."

Oswald smirked, letting out a small chuckle, which sounded much like the tittering of a bird. "I thought so. But ya do know that information comes at a price."

Crane smirked. "I know that." He pulled out a small briefcase, which he slid over towards the Penguin.

Cobblepot opened the case, and grinned as he saw the faces of Benjamin Franklin and his 99 twin brothers staring up at him. "Very well," the Penguin replied, pocketing the cash. "What do you wanna know?"

"Has there been any shipments coming in from ACE chemicals?"

The Penguin pursed his lips. "Hmm, one, I believe. Comin' in a month or two from now." He narrowed his eyes. He knew better than to assume Crane was just here for information. He could have gotten it just as easily from Nigma. There was another reason he was here. "But what are ya really here for, Scarecrow? Ye're not just lookin' for information, are ya?"

Jonathan smirked. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a long, metal cane, just like the model Becky was currently using. He sat it carefully down on the table. "I also want you to augment this cane with a few special gadgets."

Cobblepot picked it up, testing the feel and balance of it, before looking at Crane questionably. "What do ya need with this, Crane? This isn't yer usual style of weaponry."

Crane smiled. "It isn't. It's for someone else," he replied, his gaze leaving the Penguin and settling on Becky, who seemed to be enjoying herself with Harley and Ivy.

The Penguin followed his gaze, and burst out laughing. There had been rumors going around that a new henchgirl was in town. But now, not only had he confirmed that she was working for the Scarecrow, as was evidenced by her attire, but that she was the same, plucky girl that had Crane tied in knots about her for weeks. And judging by his slightly raised smile, he seemed to be still tied up about her. This was hysterical. He had a bet with several of the rogues on if the Scarecrow would ever find a girl that could actually stand him. And now, he was finally going to collect the money those poor suckers had bet.

Crane stared quizzically at Cobblepot. That was it. He had finally flipped. He had wondered when he would. After all, it was almost guaranteed that a rogue would go insane if they spent long enough in the business.

"Ah, I see now," the Penguin said, finally regaining his ragged, fish-smelling breathe. "You seem to have the 'ots for her, haven't ya?"

At this, Crane spit out his wine in surprise. How had he-? How did-? "She's not my girlfriend!" he sputtered, thankful that, once again, having a mask on most of his face had saved him from being humiliated because of his blushing face. The Master of Fear doesn't blush.

The Penguin chuckled, enjoying this reaction out of the Master of Fear. It was a rare thing indeed to catch Crane off-guard, nonetheless actually flustered about something. The man was very good at hiding his emotions, even without the mask. "Right, right. I believe ya," he said sarcastically, his grin stretching wider than the Grinch's.

Crane started to sag in his seat. He hated being laughed at, especially by the Penguin, who was already laughed at behind his back, and all because his new apprentice was a girl. Really, if it had been any of the regular brutes, they wouldn't have even batted an eyelash. But no, it had to be a female henchman, er henchgirl, and they all had to notice. "Please just do me this favor, Oswald, and drop it!" he hissed. If he weren't in such high position within the gallery, he would have gassed him right there and then.

The Penguin smiled sinisterly. "Very well. We won't discuss it anymore." He gave the cane to one of his numerous goons, who carried away into the shadows. "It'll be ready and dropped off at the usual place."

Crane nodded, before starting to walk away.

"Oh, and just a tip: watch yer back. Ye're not the only one who specializes in fear toxin in this city anymore," the Penguin added, before chuckling darkly as he made his way towards his room.

Crane rolled his eyes at the older man. The Penguin was getting old, and it was likely that the stress and age of his life of crime had affected his brain. Still, it would be unwise to just ignore him. The Penguin had a knack for being right, and he knew it. So, he would keep his words in mind, for now.

He wandered over to the Harley's table, going to retrieve Becky from her newfound friends.

"…And then, when all the guards were asleep, Puddin' actually snuck out of his cell, and drew faces all over them. It was hilarious! Some of the others got the same. You should have seen what he did to the Professah. He drew unicorns and rainbows all over him. You should have seen his face when he looked in the mirror. It was hysterical!" Harley finished, nearly falling off her seat as she laughed.

Crane cleared his throat.

All three turned to look at him.

"Hehheh, hi Professah," Harley nervously giggled, as she looked up at the unamused face of the Scarecrow.

"If you're quite done spilling whatever it is you two gossip about all day, I came to get Scream."

"Oh," Harley stated, before cheerfully waving goodbye to her. "Bye, Scream."

Becky nodded as she got up, waving goodbye to her new friends as she followed Crane out the door into the cold Gotham air.

Becky and Crane made their way back to their lair. Dawn was barely breaking over the horizon, and the fear of the Bat dissolved with the light, and the two found themselves relaxing, as the main cause of their anxiety had passed.

"So, what was the meeting with Cobblepot about?" Becky asked, curious. It wasn't often that Crane ever left his lair. Usually, it was to grab a bite to eat from the Mario's Pizzeria on 11th street, and that was usually takeout.

"Just information on a new chemical shipment," he replied, helping her over a tricky incline on the roof. "Nothing much."

They were silent for a while. About halfway to their destination, Crane decided he had enough silence for a bit and needed something to get his mind off of the ominous words of the Penguin.

"So," he started awkwardly, not used to starting the conversation with her. Usually, she was the one to start the conversation, most likely bored of his silence and unsociableness. "How was Harley?"

At this, Becky groaned, her fingers rubbing her temples as a throbbing headache formed from Harley's loud voice. "Never…again."

Crane chuckled. "She tends to have that effect on newcomers."

They soon came to their hideout as the goon guard opened the door for them.

Removing his hat and mask, Crane tiredly trudged down the stairs. He had not slept for three days straight, and the effort of interacting with his fellow rogues had drained him of his remaining energy.

"Are you okay, Crane?" she asked, noting the tiredness in his voice and movements. He almost seemed like he was a zombie or a robot, or worse, a zombie robot.

"I'm fine," he snapped, barely suppressing a yawn.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because it looks to me like you're dead on your feet. Seriously, you were just about to yawn, weren't you?"

"I wasn't! And I'm fine!" Crane snarled.

"Oh yeah? When's the last time you slept?" she retorted, crossing her arms, a small smirking smile on her face.

Jonathan scowled. "It doesn't matter. It's my lair. I can do whatever I want!" he harrumphed, pushing past her as he started to enter his lab.

Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I didn't want to do this." She pasted a large, almost fake smile on her face as she started to walk away from him. "Oh well, I guess you won't get any of that delicious, energizing coffee, then."

Crane immediately froze mid-step, slowly turning to face her, his anger barely skin deep. "What…did you do…to my coffee?!" he ground out, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep himself calm. It wouldn't do to kill her. She was much too useful to just be killed over coffee. But it was very, very tempting.

Becky just continued to grin. Revenge was sweet! "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Tell me where it is!" Crane blurted out, his right eye starting to twitch.

Scream was enjoying every minute of this. "Only if you take a break and sleep," she replied.

"No!"

Becky barely contained a giggle. "Then I guess you won't be seeing your coffeemaker…. ever…. again."

Crane looked like his head was about to explode. He didn't like having to make deals to save his stuff. It was incredibly demeaning for him. But he knew that he couldn't win this one. He could make no progress in his projects without a generous amount of coffee and she had hidden the coffeemaker. And knowing her knack for hiding things and finding hiding places from him, he could probably kiss the machine goodbye if he didn't agree to her demands.

He finally sighed, giving in. "Fine. One hour."

"8 hours," she replied.

"3 hours," he retorted.

"5 hours, and that's my final offer," Becky stated, crossing his arms.

Crane gauged her price. Coffeemaker or sleep? He made his choice. "Fine. But at least get some sleep, too. Your first heist is tomorrow."

Becky nodded. "Alright then. We have a deal."

As Jonathan reluctantly trudged off to his room, Becky couldn't help but pump her fist in victory. It was rare when she could convince him to take a break from his work, and she would take advantage of it.

As she flopped on the sofa, sending the kitten jumping onto the coffee table as she settled herself on the couch, which was the only other place to rest. She wouldn't dare sleep near Crane. That…would just be weird. So she settled on the couch, pulling the blanket over her legs as she settled for a short rest. She knew tonight would be a big night.

For tonight would be the first heist as Scream, and the first step in her new life of crime with the Scarecrow