I woke up blearily the next day. My chin was scratched and stinging from hitting the pavement so hard yesterday, and the green envelope was sitting in my duffel bag, unopened.

Clarity and Glen had just left, meaning I only had an hour before work. I sighed, and sat up, picking up the envelope and looking it over for a moment.

It was obviously The Riddler's. So much green… and he'd even printed a big, purple question marek on the back.

Upon opening, I found a riddle. I somehow wasn't shocked.

'You answer me, although I never ask you questions. What am I?'

I just sat and thought for a moment without any idea. He must've thought I was a riddle master, seeming as I got both that he'd asked me yesterday. That was about as far from true as possible.

The only puzzles I was even vaguely good at were sudoku. I enjoyed doing those, but had never liked any other puzzle. Heck, I had never even liked chess!

I finally sighed, hid the riddle and the envelope back in my bag, and showered. I needed to hurry up and get to work.

Dressed in a white polo shirt and a pair of khaki shorts, I rushed along the street to Gotham University.

Professor Cook had e-mailed me some more information on the job, such as wages, hours, and the location of the class. I was expected to give two lectures a month, and was supposed to help with grading.

I walked into the classroom, pasting a smile on my face. I needed to look confident, even if my stomach was filled with butterflies.

I'm a teacher's assistant! I thought, grinning madly.

"Hello, Miss Tate. Our students won't arrive for a half hour, so if you'd help me set up for our demonstrations today," he said, nodding at me. I nodded and began sorting papers into neat piles on the front table.

"What is the lesson on today, sir?" I asked, my nervousness ebbing away into excitement.

"Tectonic plates. Mostly on Wegner's theory," he said, smiling fondly. "It's one of my favorite things to teach."

"Alright then. Anything else you need me to do?" I asked once three piles of papers sat in front of me.

"If you'd like, you can begin grading this," he said, handing me a stack of papers. They seemed to be simple worksheets on tectonic plate boundaries and earthquakes. They were also mind-numbingly simple. Well, this was a beginner's class.

I grabbed a red pen and started scribbling away. It was only twenty minutes until a group of three students ambled in, sitting in the front right corner, directly next to me.

"... robbed the jewelry store three blocks up. In broad daylight too!" a girl said, her eyes widening as she told the tale.

"Yeah yeah. We all heard about it on the news. Viki wouldn't shut up about it!" A guy with blue hair said, placing his backpack heavily on a desk.

"I heard that a riddle was sent to the police… but The Riddler didn't commit the crime! Accomplice?" The final guy said. All I could see of him was his bright red hair and the back of his black t-shirt.

They were talking about the incident yesterday. The one where I talked face-to-face with The Riddler.

"Maybe. Then again, doesn't Joker usually work alone, or with Harley Quinn?" The blue-haired guy asked again.

"I think so… The whole ordeal is a mess! I can't make heads or tails of it. Joker has just been reckless lately. I think he's trying to get caught or something," The girl sighed, tapping her pencil on the table repetitively.

"Didn't he rob a hardware store too? Same day and everything?" The redhead said.

"Yeah. That's what I heard. Somethings up…" The girl muttered.

"Well, I ain't no Batman. I have no idea what The Joker's up to. He's got one sadistic sense of humor, though," the blue haired guy said, scratching his back.

"I give up. The Joker freaks me out… I don't even want to know what he's doing."

I sighed and turned my attention back to the worksheet in front of me. They didn't seem to have much more information about the whole incident than me. Plus, I had a job to do.

"Now, Class in review…" Professor Cook said, grabbing two slips of paper from the front of the room. He held them out in front of him, parallel with the floor. "If these are tectonic plates, then this is called what?" He pushed them together, causing them to buckle and raise.

"Convergence," The class said, monotonically.

"And this?" he pulled them apart.

"Divergence."

"What happens when divergence occurs in an oceanic ridge?" He asked, putting the papers back on the table and tapping his fingers on the desk instead. The girl who had been discussing the robberies raised her hand.

"Yes, miss Andrews?"

"Magma rises in the rift and creates a new seafloor," she said, adjusting her glasses. She was a cute girl with long brown hair and a sharp chin. Very sophisticated looking.

"Good. And now…" Professor Cook started to say before the bell rung loudly. "Class is dismissed. See you all on Monday. Don't forget your report!" He called as classmates filed out of the classroom.

I nodded my head as a loud ruckus rose up, making it hard to concentrate on the last paper I had to grade.

"Alright, Miss Tate. Are you finished?" the Professor said, hovering over me.

"You can call me Sable, sir. And… Almost. Just three more questions," I said, scribbling a note in the margins about how sediments showed the age of the seafloor as well.

I finished after another minute of him watching over my shoulder. I turned to see him nodding approvingly.

"Did you give all of them notes like that?" He asked, pointing at the stack of now graded papers by my elbow.

"If they needed them," I said, ducking my head.

"Very good. Could you help me clean up? I think we're done after that. You've done more than your fair share of grading by now," he chuckled good naturedly as he gathered up the papers and tucked them away into his bag.

"Yes sir," I said, nodding my head and helping him gather papers from around the room. The class wasn't very tidy. Papers had been scattered all over, and most of them were ripped, folded into airplanes, or scribble all over with notes between peers.

"They are an interesting bunch, aren't they?" He said as I read over a thrilling conversation about a movie night that two students were planning. I jumped, not realizing that he was watching me clean up. He was such a strange man...

"Are they your only class?" I asked, regaining my composure.

"No. Just the one I need help teaching. I have an advanced class in the afternoon… in about two hours, actually. There are only seven students in that class though, nothing I can't handle."

"Is that all, Professor?" I asked, throwing the last unruly paper into the wastebin.

"Yes, Sable. You may head home, if you wish," He said, sitting down at the desk in the front of the room.

"Thank you sir. See you on Monday!" I called as I walked out the door, not realizing that I had left my bag sitting by my chair.

I didn't make it too far before I realized my mistake. Only a block.

"I hope he's still there," I mumbled as I rushed back into the building.

I was about to enter the room when I heard voices. They were muffled, and I couldn't make out any distinct words, but there were two voices in there.

I opened the door cautiously. The two people stopped talking and stared at me.

"Oh, hello Sable. What brings you back so soon?" Professor Cook asked, smiling and nodding at me.

"One of your students?" The other man asked. He had a chilling voice.

"Teaching assistant, actually."

I waved shyly and shuffled over to my bag.

"So sorry to interrupt you, sir. I left my bag here…"

"Don't fret about it, Sable. Here… why don't you join us," he said, pulling up another chair.

"Sure, if you don't mind," I said. I didn't have anything better to do anyways.

"Sable, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine," Professor Cook said once I was seated.

"David, that isn't a good idea," The other man said. I glanced up at his face for the first time. I recognised him. It was The Scarecrow. News was that he had just escaped Arkham this morning. My heart began to race and I froze up in fear.

"Umm… Professor…" I said, scooting back in my chair instinctively. The Scarecrow chuckled.

"Scared, child?" I just stared at him.

"Sable… he's a friend. He won't hurt you," Professor Cook said. "Isn't that right, Jonathan. We don't want a repeat of last semester."

"Last semester?" I asked, breathing deeply. "What happened last semester?"

"The last teacher's assistant saw Jonathan here, and didn't return. I'm happy that you are braver." Professor Cook said, gesturing to The Scarecrow.

As if! I thought. My mind was still in hyperdrive, just from being in the same room as him.

I noticed that The Scarecrow's sleeves stopped a few inches short of where they should have. I wasn't the only one with clothing difficulties, apparently.

"Tell me, child… What do you fear?" The Scarecrow asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Uh-ummm…" I gasped out, not sure whether I should answer or not.

"I see you are afraid of me. Understandable, given my reputation," The Scarecrow said. I was a game to him. A little game for him to play with.

"Jonathan," Professor Cook said warningly. "Sable is a pleasant assistant. I'd prefer she stay that way." The Scarecrow just laughed. It was chilling.

There was a siren outside. It was faint and faraway, but it caught the new escapee's ears.

"I really ought to go, David. I need to find somewhere to hide," The Scarecrow said, excusing himself hurriedly.

"Understood, Jonathan. It was nice to see you again."

"Likewise." The man stood up to his full height, at least six inches taller than me, and exited the room silently. I shivered, and breathed in deeply.

"You don't have to be afraid of him, Sable. He is a friend of mine, and won't hurt you. He does enjoy his mind games, I will admit," Professor Cook said comfortingly, noticing my unease. "I shouldn't have pulled you into that."

"It's okay…" I sighed. My heart had calmed down and I was breathing normally. "When did you meet him? Why are you friends with a…"

"An asylum patient? Well, we met when he was a Professor of Psychology. He was a brilliant teacher, and it was quite a pity when he was fired. After he escaped Arkham the first time, he sought refuge from me, and I couldn't turn him away just because he was now on the run. He was still a friend."

"Oh… so it's okay to be their friend?" I asked, staring at him.

"Is it illegal to have friends? No. Most certainly not. Just because the law doesn't agree with them doesn't mean that they aren't allowed the simple pleasure of a true friend. I think it helps them to have a friendly face to turn to. I try to be a good influence for Jonathan," Professor Cook said, smiling at me encouragingly. "Frankly, I think you'd like Jonathan. However, you have to get past his Scarecrow persona first."

"That's the thing… I want to be friendly to him and all, and I tried… but I still can't quite… I still see him as a criminal. An insane man who wants to hurt others." I sighed, and brushed a lock of my black hair out of my face.

"Maybe sometime you'll be able to see past that," Professor Cook said, patting me on the back. "I encourage it, actually. It'd help them, to have someone like you to turn to. If you ask me, that's a better therapy than anything they get in Arkham."

"Since when did you become a psychologist?" I asked teasingly. Professor Cook just smiled.

"A man isn't allowed to have hobbies?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I'd better go," I said, waving a little to him as I exited, this time making sure I had my bag.

"See you on Monday, Sable," He called to me as he cleaned up his mess.

Author's Note:

Professor Cook has some little secrets, eh?

Did I write Scarecrow decently? I really hope I did... There will be more of him pretty soon.

The real exciting stuff has yet to happen, after all.