Note: I do not like song fics. But if you want to hear what Eliza is listening to, then find "Lonely Bitch" by Bea Miller. It's been my muse for this entire journey.

Sunday, June 16th, 2024, 23:24

It is only a few days before Eliza Tucker sees Edward Nygma again, and it would be a lie if she said she was not looking forward to when he dropped onto her balcony. In fact, she found herself putting a little effort into how she looked at night: a bit of makeup to emphasize her features, wearing something that showed her curves, and making sure to have her hair down, fluffed, and brushed. Tonight, she wore shorts and a camisole on the sticky June night.

This evening, she is spending her alone time moving. Moving in any way she can, she dispels the natural energy her body generates. On nights like tonight, when she cannot focus on reading when she cannot sit to write, when she cannot make herself stay still, she dances. She sings too, loudly, off-key, only to herself. She knows she cannot sing but does it anyway because it makes her happy. Quickly, she learned that when you are a healthcare provider, you need to do any and everything that helps make you happy. The job can be soul-wrenching, and dancing and singing refills her soul. So, tonight, she blares her music, sets her lights to a fun color, sings like she has made it to the top three of American Idol, and dances like no one is watching.

But someone is watching.

Her ears perk when a light rapping comes from the balcony door, and she whips around. Eliza quickly turns her music down to a normal human level. Heart racing, she skips to the door and swings it open. She finds Edward standing with his classic dashing grin and sharp grass-colored eyes gleaming in the minimal light.

"Hello again, my dear. Did you miss me?"

In fact, Eliza did miss him, but she would not admit that right now. Eyes dilating in immediate response to his presence, she blushes and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, a clear sign of her attraction.

"Hi. You knocked this time. What are you doing here?"

The Riddler leans against the doorframe with one arm as he looms over her, observing Eliza from toe to crown.

"I thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing," he said, bringing a single gloved finger up to trace from her blushing cheek to her jaw. "Maybe we could continue our little game?"

"A-alright."

The nurse side steps to allow him room for entry.

He grins like the vampire welcomed into a residence for the first time and enters her apartment. Eliza quickly shut the door and turned to face him. There she finds him right in front of her again, hovering and peering down. She is not short, but they have a definitive height difference. His curious, hungry eyes roam her figure dressed in a simple, blue, athleisure camisole and shorts combo.

"You look delicious. Let's solve the mystery of your desires, shall we?"

Eliza's mouth goes dry as this dangerous man closes in on her personal space. After she gulps, she inhales a deep breath, which catches his clean, rustic scent. He smells nice.

The Riddler smirks, noticing Eliza's stupor, "My dear, you can't resist the pull of danger. It is intoxicating, is it not?"

Frozen, Eliza does not back away or jump when an arm snakes sensually around her back. She is corralled against the nearby wall with a gloved hand pressing beside her head. Edward dips his head down and hovers his lips over hers; she can feel his warm, steady breath.

"B-but we just met," she responds to this new level of intimacy.

It is a weak excuse, and she knows it. Eliza does not know how to act around this man.

With a low and seductive voice, Edward smirks, "That's the beauty of it. You've only known me for a short time, but you know there is something undeniable between us."

Eliza shivers in delight, her eyes languidly closed as she feels him all around. Edward witnesses her surrender and grins like a wolf about to eat. He lightly presses his lips against hers to ease her in, but he soon applies more pressure. Eliza submits to this man she knows nothing but bad things about, lost in a whirlwind of wanton desire. She likes this, and it scares her.

With a small groan escaping her throat, she relaxes completely as one of her hands takes purchase upon his chest. The other pale hand reaches tentatively to the back of Edward's neck, where she plays with the tips of his short hair. The Riddler deepens the kiss by running his tongue along her lower lip and then sucks the plush skin into his mouth before biting gently and letting it go. The hand beside Eliza's head touches her neck, leather soft and warm on her skin. He is squeezing her to his body with his other arm still around her waist.

Edward breaks the kiss first, leaving Eliza dazed and her eyes out of focus, and she wonders why he stopped. All a cat needs is one little foot in the trap to catch their prey. Above her, Edawrd's cocky grin says that he caught his mouse.

"Don't worry, there will be more, my sweet Eliza."

The Riddler, grinning wickedly, lets her go, to her chagrin, and reaches into his blazer to pull an object out. He kindly picks up one of Eliza's hands to bring it between them without resistance and places the item on her palm.

"I brought you a gift. A puzzle box."

With curious orbs, Eliza studies the sizeable black box in her palm. She lifts the box level with her vision, enthralled with the sleek-looking object. A finger from her other hand traces across a sharp edge, becoming acquainted with it. Still looming, Edward watches intensely as she studies the box. He loves the probing look on her face and how taken she seems with the gift; he practically sees the wheels turning in her mind. A chuckle leaves his throat when she brushes past him, still studying the puzzle, to walk to her couch, where she sits.

"This puzzle, in particular, consists of two challenges that must be solved to unlock a gift inside."

She glances at him as he follows her to the sofa couch and drops beside her, an arm around her back.

"You mean the puzzle itself isn't the gift? There's something inside?"

Feeling a little honored that she thinks the puzzle is the present, he smiles brightly. This means that she would have been just as content with the enigma for what it was without a hidden gift inside.

"Yes, solve the puzzle's secrets, and you will be rewarded—if you are up for the challenge."

The focused woman nods, now even further taken with the puzzle. There is more than meets the eye, and the temptation of not knowing is eating at her. With deft, lithe fingers, she flips the black cube in her hands a few times, studying all six sides of the seemingly ordinary box.

Beside her, the Riddler is watching her intently with his best poker face. This is something more intimate to him than the brief kisses they shared moments ago. Do not misunderstand; the pleasure of toying with and capturing her is quite satisfying, but this is something more for him. A test for his newfound obsession to ensure her mind is up to par. He does not expect a genius-level intellect like him but must confirm that she is not a mere pretty face. He will be sorely disappointed if she proves to be a troglodyte.

And beside him, Eliza keeps flipping the cube over and over and over again, trying to find any minute differences between the sleek sides. They all look the same! Her mind is far away from their intimate escapades, which they shared moments ago. In the back of her mind, she realizes that he is testing her, but it does not jar her from the task. She does love a challenge. Jigsaw puzzles were usually her favorite due to their calming simplicity, although a more challenging puzzler on occasion does not offend. Finally, she eyes a detail; a quite thin line wraps around the cube on the diagonal, which she realizes is a seam.

The busy nurse twists the cube, and sure enough, it twists with her grip—however, that is all it does. Now, she sits with a jagged cube in her hand, the sharp edges off-center from one another. She bites her tongue, which pokes out from the side of her plush lips. There is a long pause as she analyses and ponders. She knows better and truly does not think it would be that easy, but she was unsure where to go. Eyes widening, she sees another seam, but they are not lining up, and she stares another moment before twisting the box back the other way. Once the new seams are matched, she twists from that angle. The object is now less a cube and more a jagged, three-dimensional star. Again, she turns it over and over, but this time, she easily sees a new spot revealed. There is a little depression in the bottom side of the shape, and she presses it with her finger. The shape quickly falls apart into jagged pieces in her lap, revealing another shape.

"Good girl, keep going. . ."

Eliza's back erects itself as she blushes bright red at the lewd phrase. There is no way he knew that she liked to be called that. She keeps her fetishes to herself. It must have just been a good guess. She picks the new shape up with twitchy fingers.

It was a guess; however, Edward, now seeing her response, smirks darkly. He does not need to be a psychologist to determine that she enjoys being called that, and he tucks the information into his memory. One of his gloved hands lazily reaches out to repeatedly tease her chocolate hair's tips. He continues this action as she continues her challenge.

She is halfway done – so close to her prize. Eliza does not let her mind wonder what it could be, choosing to focus on the fun brain teasers at hand instead. She immediately notices the seam wrapping around the orb in her hands; it is not hidden at all. Her fingers feel a discrepancy in the smooth surface of the silver sphere, which she rolls around to face her. It looks like a simple four-digit lock. Lips purse as she stares at the rotating dials. How the hell would she know what the numbers are? She flips the numbers with no particular goal as she thinks hard about what the code could be. She tries her birthday – 1017. No. She tries her birth year – 2000. No. She tries the month and year – 1000. Nope. She tries her debit card pin (cause, of course, he would have that information too) – 0311. No! She tries the last four digits of her social – 4533. Gah!

The Riddler chuckles silently at his obsession's evident frustration. She is so adorable when she is annoyed. Her eyebrows knit together, and she sucks her lower lip into her pink mouth to bite firmly. He wonders briefly if she will give up and, if so, it will break his heart. His mindless fingers still tangle with the ends of her hair.

Eliza thinks hard about what the number could be. She thinks of what else he would know about her numeric-wise. Graduation date from high school or college? The day she passed her nursing boards? But what if it is even simpler than that? What if it's meaningful to both of them – together? They had only a short time together, so what could it be. . .

Her green eyes brighten as it registers - April 23rd, 2024.

Eliza quickly flicks the numerical code 0423 into position, and the sphere clicks open. A subdued but excited laugh leaves her. She got it! Happily, she grins at the handsome man sitting next to her. Finally having a moment to think, she really enjoys the feeling of light tugging at the tips of her hair. It is soothing and causes electric shivers down the back of her neck to the base of her spine.

Next to her on the couch, Edward looks on with delighted admiration. She figured it out. She is the one. She is his.

"Well done. Such a good, smart girl. You may claim your prize."

Eliza nods and peers inside the spherical container. With large eyes, she sucks in a sharp breath, looking at what sits in her palm. A medium-sized emerald pendant necklace with silver bordering and a silver chain sits on a velvet jewelry cushion. The chain is tucked under the top of the velvet material to prevent tangling. A delicate finger traces an edge of the gem that sparkles in her similar green orbs. It looks expensive and is so pretty.

Edward Nygma tilts his head in wonder at the emotions that flash across her face and he labels each one: admiration, joy, excitement, awe, alarm, apprehension, guilt. . . She is such an enigma.

Eliza shifts her focus to Edward, studying his dashing grin as he studies her in turn.

"Mr. Nygma –"

"Edward."

She gulps, "Right. Edward, I-I can't accept something as nice as this. I don't know that I have ever held anything like this in my hand. I don't know if I've ever been near something as gorgeous as this. I don't know if I could ever afford something like this. I couldn't ever pay you back. I-"

The Riddler moves the hand that played with her hair to place a single gloved finger on her lips, quietening her rapid rambling.

"Oh, but I insist. You see, this emerald—" he takes the jewelry case gently from her palm, "- is more than just a gift."

His skillful fingers work to remove his gloves and the expensive item from its protective container before unclasping it and gesturing for her to turn around.

Eliza's mouth is dry as she turns her back to him, a typically dangerous thing to do with a Rogue, but it is not from fear. She is unsure how to label the trembling warmth building in her chest and lower belly as he leans forward, chest pressed to her shoulders, to bring both arms around her neck. Eliza can tell her breath is shallow and quick as his head is right next to hers briefly. In either hand, he grasps the end of the delicate chain and slowly pulls it to her chest and behind her neck. Much like a reflex, she reaches her hand up to pull her long hair to one shoulder so it is out of the way.

"This gift symbolizes the connection between us."

Feeling his breath on the back of her neck causes her eyes to close in focus. The expensive silver and emerald are cool against her heated skin. After Edward clasps the necklace, his hands slide to either shoulder, slowly grazing the pale skin.

"A fitting gift for someone as lovely as you, my dear."

Edward smirks in satisfaction and leans close to one ear, "But remember, there are always consequences to playing my games whether you win or not."

The Rogue's firm, lightly calloused hands run down the side of both arms as he bends down to kiss the curve of her neck and shoulder. Due to the candid touch, Eliza finches, but she quickly relaxes, sighs, and tilts her head back. She feels his shoulder behind her, which causes pause, but again, she relaxes fully on him.

What the fuck is going on?

There is a dangerous, sociopathic criminal in her home for the second time in a week, and here she is, showing her back to him and allowing him to touch her in such an intimate manner. She should run, scream, call the cops – something other than reaching an arm up and behind her to pull his head closer to her neck. It feels too good to stop and he has not hurt her so far. She feels he would have done that already if he wanted to. Instead, he is placing hot, sensual kisses along her neck and bare shoulder. It is difficult to run away from this, especially because she likes it.

Edward's hands move from her arms to place one on her waist and the other on the opposite hip, gently rubbing the areas.

"I have to say, Eliza, watching you play with fire like this is quite enjoyable. My sweet nurse is melting in my hands."

Not responding to his statement, Eliza rises and turns to face him, climbs into his lap, and wraps her arms around him in a coy hold. Edward replaces his hands in the same position as before, and she now faces him. He sees the needy look on her face, her eyes darker than he is accustomed to. Still wordless, she removes his hat and throws it to the side, allowing her hands to stroke up his neck into his thick hair. Her breath is still shallow and rapid, and he feels her trembling in his lap. It is a sight to behold: her eyes dark with lust, cheeks pink with blood, lips slightly parted, chest heaving. From this angle, he can see the necklace as it settles just above her ample cleavage, nestled in the dip between her bosoms. Boy, he really likes the camisole she is wearing.

This time, of her own accord, Eliza grips his tie and pulls him forward to lock lips. Her kiss is soft, kind, tentative, and trusting. Her lips are warm and plush as she delicately locks onto his. Edward feels her sigh as she relaxes on him and into their embrace. The Riddler grins, his grip tightening on her hip and waist as he returns her kiss with fervor, pulling her deeper into him. The way they kiss is emblematic of the type of people they are. She: a kind, pure soul. He: a right bastard.

"You have no idea what you're getting into. You may have just released something you can't control," he warns her.

He does give her a warning. This is the only one he ever gives her, and that is how he justifies every action he takes from now on. He warned her, and she consented.

". . . I'm ready."

Ready for what? She has no idea, but she is giving in. Eliza is dazed as she falls deeper into his trap, not thinking of potential consequences. She kisses him sweetly. Edward said he was not going to hurt her – right?

She could lose her nursing license for fraternizing with a previous patient, working outside her scope of practice, and possibly not reporting a known criminal. But this— This is something she's never felt before. It is exciting, intoxicating, and dark. This starts a maddening and (little does she know) toxic relationship.

The Riddler's eyes glitter with pleasure and malice, "My dear, Eliza. . . you have no idea what lies ahead. But we will enjoy this moment for now."

Pulling her closer with a hand on the back of her neck, Edward deepens the kiss, suckling on her sweet lips. He is ominous, she notes, but she shoves away her base fear instincts and indulges in the pleasure of this sensual man. She enjoys his treacherous seduction.

Sliding from his hair, her hands come to the front as she seeks to undo his tie. She loosens the silky violet material and then reaches underneath to undo his black dress shirt one little black button at a time. As she does this, one of Edward's hands, the one on her waist, snakes slyly under the hem of her azure camisole, his other hand gripping tightly on her hip. Had his grip been any tighter, it would have hurt. The skin of her smooth torso yields to his hot, firm touch. Once past the material of her shirt, his hand trails up her ribcage till his calloused fingers brush the underside of her soft breast. He smirks, realizing she is not wearing a bra – the cheeky little minx. Eliza moans and sighs into his mouth at the candid touch.

Beep beep beep – beep beep beep – beep beep beep!

Eliza nearing jumps out of her skin as a loud, rapid noise cuts through their intense tryst. Her eyes pop open, and she pulls away, her lips reddened and swollen from their kiss. With a disappointed groan, the nurse's face scrunches up in annoyance.

Edward is not happy. He is quite annoyed by the interruption.

"What is that infernal noise," he hisses, glancing around.

With the black magic broken, Eliza puts her face in her hands and groans again, much louder—she is just as upset as he is.

"My pager. I'm on call tonight. . . I forgot."

Edward's hands grip her waist tight, though he holds himself back, refusing to show his darkness too soon.

"I need to go."

Eliza moves to get up, but his grip refuses to let her budge. The look in his narrowed eyes fills her with a bit of dread. He is angry.

"Go? Our little game just started, Eliza. You can't go."

Feeling guilty, Eliza wraps her arms back around his neck with a truly innocent pout and shakes her head.

"No, I'm sorry. I do have to come when I'm called. People need my help. . ."

To emphasize her point, she drags her left hand to rest on his chest, above the same spot where he was shot. The injury that brought her to him and him to her. Edward stares, eyes dark for a few beats more, but he soon looks down at her hand and sighs. He would need to give her some slack if he wanted this insidious possession of her to continue.

"Very well. Go and save the day, my sweet nurse."

He pulls her as close as possible, and then some, eyes boring into hers once more. She does not tell him that his fingers are digging into her skin too much; she does not think he means it.

"But know this is far from over."

He released his vice-like grip, and she grinned sweetly and kissed him one last time before sliding off his lap. She ran to her bedroom and was not even to the door when she started pulling off her clothes to put on her uniform. In a record time, she jogged back into the living room, tying the waistband of her navy-blue scrubs. Soon, she is jumping on one leg and then the other to pull her socks and sneakers on. The Riddler watches in mild amusement as she races around her apartment to gather her belongings.

"You can stay if you need a place to rest, but I will likely be gone until tomorrow morning."

Eliza does not even look at him as she grabs her backpack and stuffs it with her wallet, house keys, water bottle, and, finally, her stethoscope. She spins around to face him and skips up to the back of the couch, where she leans down and gives one last searing kiss.

"Bye!"

Once gone, Edward lets his forced façade drop into its cold, irritated default before fixing his clothes, grabbing his hat, and stalking out the balcony door. He disappears into the hot, sticky night.

In a guise of charm,

Yet devoid of heart,

Moves through life,

Playing a part.

No empathy,

No conscience found,

In their world,

Manipulation's crowned.