Edit: Sorry about the author's note chapter previously. I'm still trying to figure out how to work with this type of system and sometimes it can royally screw me over. I apologize for the delay. I will be going on a trip in two days so I won't be updating for about a month. Sorry for the inconvenience. Onto the story!

A lone henchman scurried into the chamber, hoping that he wasn't going to be unfortunate enough to disturb the Mistress. She hated that, and what she hated; she did away with, such as the first goon who had disobeyed her commands. He didn't know exactly what happened to him, but he had a haunted look in his eye, and his skin was cut open in many different places, with something that looked suspiciously like scales on them.

The mysterious woman, whose face was constantly cloaked in shadows, was waiting for him.

"Mistress, we found the one you were looking for," he said, wringing his hands together nervously.

The woman smiled. "Good, bring him in."

The man nodded, uttering a silent sigh of relief as he scurried out through the doors. Soon, two other henchmen dragged a struggling, bedraggled Riddler into the room, dumping him unceremoniously at their Mistress' feet.

The man certainly looked worn out. He had a light, wiry build, and his usually bright-green suit was stained with dirt. His dark pants had a few holes in them, blood trickling out of them. His glasses were bent and crooked on his nose as he tried to adjust them, then proceeded to brush off the dirt on his suit jacket. His hat was missing, leaving light brown hair standing straight up in a cowlick. Several bruises and a black eye covered his face, leaving it looking a little like a bruised blueberry.

"Well, that was quite a rude entrance. I'd be sure to complain to the manager, if I wasn't in front of her myself," he quipped, grabbing his cane as he struggled to his feet.

She smirked. Despite his beating, he still seemed to be quite as obnoxious as usual. "Hello to you too, Edward. It's about time I finally found you. You were quite difficult to track down. It took us quite a few months to finally find your hideout, although the big question mark was a bit of a dead giveaway."

The Riddler chuckled. "I take pride in it, Miss Fri—" he was suddenly yanked forward by the woman, her firm grip on his purple, question mark tie choking his words.

"I prefer you leave off that name, Edward. Or Mr. Dormouse might just not have a brain to work with once all is said and done," she hissed, before she let go of his tie.

Edward coughed, trying to regain his breath as he scowled. "I would prefer you left off that ridiculous nickname. It's bad enough Tetch uses it all the time. I would rather not want it to become a name I am associated with."

She snickered. "Very well, Edward. But I would like it if you didn't call me by my real name. I prefer to remain…anonymous for the time being."

He nodded. "Of course. Now then, why exactly did you decide to interrupt my work? I was just planning a magnificent trap for the Bat when your goons decided to interrupt my planning time with their annoying chatter and clumsy feet, as well as their insistence that I come with them immediately."

The woman turned away. "I need you to help me with a… project that I am working on."

"And my guess you don't need any help with any of your unorthodox experiments on the mindless drones here, do you?"

She smirked, shaking her head. "No, I need you for something else than that."

"And let me guess, I'm the only one that can help you with this," he replied, beginning to laugh. Usually, he would have said one of his famous riddles by now, but the close call with his tie made him think twice. The woman was not someone he could mess with and get away with, and something told him that she was much, MUCH worse than most of the rogues, save for the Joker, with her methods of torture if she found him not obeying her orders.

"Unfortunately," she hissed through her teeth, a scowl on her face. The Riddler was the last person she would want to have help her, or even to interact with, but she couldn't trust the buffoons to get the job done correctly, and she was much too busy to do it herself, not to mention the increased chances of getting caught. The Riddler, however, would get in and out without being caught. And if he was, then she could always make sure he didn't squeal to the authorities about whom he was contracted to work for.

He smirked. "I thought so." He leaned on his cane, stopping it with his foot so that he wouldn't trip and make a fool of himself. He took pride in his appearance, and wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

She nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't even think about not repaying the World's smartest man for doing some tiny favors for me."

The Riddler chuckled. "While I appreciate the flattery, you'll have to do better than that. What exactly can you offer me that would make me want to work with you?"

The woman smiled. "How about information?"

The Riddler laughed. "Oh, please, like you could get information I don't already know? I'm the Riddler, for Pete's sake. I know everything that goes on in Gotham and in the surrounding area. I know every peep, every line of gossip, everything. Heck, I even know the Bat's secret identity. So, what could you possibly offer me that would even peek my interest?"

"How about the Scarecrow's mysterious new female accomplice?"

Edward laughed, nearly falling over at the hysterical idea. "Ohohoho, that's a good one. His new female partner? That's rich! I'm not sure if you know this, but Crane's probably as asexual as a flatworm. I mean, he hasn't ever looked at a woman that way, and he is absolutely disgusted by Poison Ivy. I mean, the odds of that happening are a billion to one. W-What makes you think that he would actually even try?"

The woman scowled, and kicked the cane out of the Riddler's hand, causing him to fall flat on his face. "If you recall, he worked with me once."

Edward rubbed his head, sitting up. "Yes, but then you were the reason he stopped trusting people in general."

She scowled. "Maybe."

The Riddler grinned. "And besides, this really is quite impossible. There's no way he could trust someone like that again."

"Very well. I'll show you," she replied, tapping on the keyboard of the computer and pulling up several videos of the Scarecrow training Becky.

Edward's eyes widened. He didn't know Crane had an accomplice working with him. Oh, sometimes he did team up, but that was usually with the Hatter or Hush, the only two who he had ever called friends, in a sense. But he had never teamed up with a woman before. He saw how they interacted on the screens, and to his amazement, the Scarecrow seemed to trust her greatly with his secrets. This was very new, and very abnormal for someone like the Scarecrow, who loved his work and alone time like it was his wife. "Interesting. But you'll need something really juicy to get me to agree to all of your demands.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, very well. How much do you know about the woman named Rebecca Albright?"

And with that single sentence, the Riddler took her bait hook, line and sinker.

Batman glided down from his perch on a gargoyle, angling his flight towards the location of the bright spotlight of the smaller, more portable bat signal the police had wired to one of their trucks.

Commissioner Gordon had installed this particular bat signal for a specific purpose: to alert Batman of the location of crime that the Rogue's gallery had committed, especially with the Joker involved. Most of the work, such as rounding up some thugs and drug rings, Batman left to the police, as that was their job and it was something they could handle. But things like the Joker and the Scarecrow they left to him, as it was much too dangerous to all involved if they didn't have Batman's help in rounding them up. Otherwise, the force would lose too many officers to cope.

They were thankful for Batman, despite his ways. He helped them round up the criminals that would otherwise be very difficult to bring in, as well as keeping casualties to a minimum.

As he landed one of the police officers, Officer Violet Montoya, he recalled, approached him. "Batman, thank goodness you came."

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" he drawled, as he walked towards the burnt-up crust of the bank building that the Scarecrow had tried to rob.

It wasn't unusual for Crane to rob banks. Most of the Rogues started out robbing banks, using anything they could manage to get as much money as possible. They sometimes, when times were desperate, go back to robbing banks, with varying successes. It seemed that the Scarecrow was doing just that, regardless of the danger that he risked with trying to rob a bank on the border of the Joker's territory.

"Scarecrow and Joker had both decided to rob the place. My guess there was a brief scuffle before the Joker's bomb went off, and Scarecrow ran while the Joker was recovering from the fear toxin. We managed to capture the Joker, but Crane's nowhere to be found."

Batman silently waited for her to continue as he scanned the area with his Bat-vision. He picked up several DNA prints that belonged to the Joker and Scarecrow around the crime scene, and could tell from the bloodstains outside and on the pole where Scarecrow had landed when the bomb went off. The Dark Knight doubted he would be a threat for a while, as he would have to stay in one place for a few days or so to heal enough to move.

"We found four dead bodies, all of them Scarecrow's minions," she said, following him quickly as he hastened his pace around the bank.

"The Joker must have come here alone," he said, turning off his Bat-vision as the morning sun started to appear above the clouds. It wasn't uncommon for the Joker to kill everyone in sight when he went on a crime spree. "Was there any evidence of the crime?"

She nodded. "Yes. All of it is linked to either Joker or the Scarecrow. All except one," she replied, handing him a large evidence bag with a metal cane inside. "We found this at the crime scene near the fear toxin. We have no idea who this belongs to, and there is no DNA matching either criminal to this thing."

Batman examined it, taking it out of the evidence bag to search for any particular marks to identify the identity of its owner. To his disappointment, there was none to be found. And there were hundreds of canes like this model. All that was left was to go through the police database and sort through anyone who would be the most likely suspect. Hopefully, he could locate either the victim or accessory to Scarecrow's crime before he or she were either killed or coerced into another crime.

"Good work, Officer. You seem to have a fine memory for details," he complimented, stashing the cane into his bat belt.

"Thanks. I'm sure you do, too, Bat-" she stopped as she turned, suddenly finding himself alone.