Nothing to Fear

Jonathan sat patiently on the pleater booth seat in the diner they had decided as their meeting spot. Pushing the glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose further up, he scanned the menu as he awaited the arrival of Jeremiah's lackey. Three minutes stood between her and being late. Maybe he should have been more meticulous about his requirements. Wasting time this close to Halloween was not an option. As if on queue, the bell at the top of the door rang indicating that someone had entered the small space. "I was getting ready to leave."

Jonathan's relationship with Pamela was separate from his with many of the other Rogues. Where he tolerated most others, he found that he liked her. It had nothing to do with her pheromones (although he had so often watched men fall at her feet), instead having a basis in the respect he held for her mental strength. To say she had a fascinating brain was an understatement and perhaps in a different life he could have unraveled all the threads to the mystery at its core, but not now. "Tea? Coffee? Or do you prefer water?"

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Jonathan asked, slipping past Jeremiah's smaller stature. He moved towards the desk that he had set up in the corner of the warehouse space. It had become his makeshift laboratory for the time being and he had grown rather fond of the isolation it provided, most of the time that was. "I'm sure you have a good reason for breaking in without so much as sending your sidekick ahead of time. What was her name, again?" He asked, setting down his briefcase on the worn chair and removing his coat to hang over the back of it. "Ecco, wasn't it? A mere shadow of you. The projection of your own voice."

Hope was the spread wings of a bat over the dimly lit streets of Gotham. It was a beacon among the clouds, raining down justice in tune with the rhythmic beating of the ever-present rain. It was the Batman. A manifestation of the rogue's personal fears and a balance of powers. Jonathan's own encounters with the mythic vigilante had resulted in a poisoning he was still in the midst of grappling with. Fear had reared its ugly head once again after years of eluding him. His trusted toxin betraying him in the hands of the nocturnal monster. Nightmares had become reality and still in the back of his mind the sight of the creature lurked in the recesses of his psyche, never allowing him a moment of peace.

A knock wrenched Jonathan's twisting thoughts from their path, pulling him back into the world around him. Again. The gentle noise tugged at him, dragging him towards the door and pushing his eye to the peephole. "You'll have to excuse me, Edward. I have no time for our chess game today."

Babs shrugged. “You know, when they died, I’m sure plenty of people suspected me,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my own sister does. At the very least she blames me for it. And you know what? If I had been there that night, if whoever the hell did it had offered me the chance to do it myself, I don’t know if I would have said no.” She shrugged again. “But that would have been too easy. It wouldn’t have hurt them in the way I wanted to hurt them.” She looked over at him. “He wouldn’t, anyway,” she admitted. She could say a lot of things against Jim Gordon but his love for his children would never be something she would cast doubt on. She smiled faintly as she considered her answer, knowing that he would think it was ridiculous. “I was sixteen and in love,” she said. “And subsequently I was pregnant. My mother kicked me out of the house and the only reason she ever let me cross the threshold again was because people liked the Gordons, and people respected them for taking care of me. She couldn’t stand to see others getting praise. Especially for something so negligible as giving a damn about me.”

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          “Was there an investigation into you or was it all just gossip?” Rich people knew how to talk and come up with their own wild conspiracies. He had seen it time and time again. Word travelled fast when you had nothing to do but drink wine and spend money. It sounded like a terribly boring life. “Interesting.” A brow quirked, raising high above its twin. “Why?”  There was always a follow up question. “And what about now?” He let the question hang in the air. Just because she didn’t want to be with Roman before, doesn’t mean that hasn’t changed. He was still everything that Barbara loved, apart from her children. “Why did you cross that threshold again if you hated her so much?” Curiosity got the better part of him, at some point going from a therapy session to getting to know her better. Why did it matter how well he knew Barbara Gordon? It shouldn’t have. It didn’t. But he couldn’t overcome the curiosity, letting it take hold of him because it was easier to give into it than to fight it. “Why did you let her have any of the praise instead of staying away where you knew she couldn’t reach you?”

A faint smile touched Pam’s lips. “It’s just a figure of speech,” she said. “A date isn’t necessarily romantic.” Thank god. Harley was the only person she’d had romantic feelings for in a very long time and frankly she wanted to keep it that way. She raised an eyebrow as he spoke. “Oh?” she said. “Interesting.” She tilted her head. “Are there any perks for helping you?” she said, her lip curling into a smirk. “Or am I just supposed to be offering my time in the interest of science?”

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      Crane had never been romantic so the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He didn’t know what it entailed or if he could provide it to anyone, not that Pamela wanted it from him or him from her. “Do you go on a lot of dates?” He asked simply curious at the idea. “What do you consider perks?” His lips twitch, the hint of a smirk flashing over them before it was gone, disappearing behind his menu as he flipped through it. “Is there something wrong with offering your time in the interest of science?”

Harley looked at the other for a moment given this city was ripe and ready for the taking it’d been quite some time since all of them banded together to take anything so the idea appealed to her greatly. “Aww Johnny, I love how your brain works and seeing the fruits of your labor but I’ll be patient only for you of course.” She mused placing a finger to her cheek “Hey since you aren’t working now, we should do something what do you think?”

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         “What do you have in mind?” Crane asked, not saying no outright. He was busy, but Harleen had always been able to take his attention away from other things that occupied it. If she had a plan, he was willing to go along, but had no plans of his own that involved leaving his lab that day. 

Babs could feel how tense her posture was, and she tried to relax, but it was no use. It was as though someone had laid an iron rod between her shoulders. She knew it wouldn’t go away as long as she kept talking to Jon about this. Not that she would particularly enjoy talking to anyone about her parents. She shrugged. “I never got to do anything about it,” she said. “She didn’t care what I said or did. I think if…” She stopped, lifting her chin. It was probably too late for this, but she didn’t want Jon to know that she was falling into the role he wanted from her. “I’m angry because if anyone should protect you, it’s your parent,” she said. “It’s your family. I would peel Jim Gordon like a goddamn grape if I for one second thought he’d treated my daughter or my son the way my mother treated me.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t just that. I was never good enough for her. Everything about me, she tried to change, from my weight to who I was dating. You know she really wanted me to marry Roman Sionis? Roman.”

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       “Did you want to?” He asked, pushing her until she wouldn’t let him anymore. It was who he was as a psychiatrist. He wanted to push her to open up, to get to know herself better, to find the root of the issue. “You think if?” Jonathan tried to encourage her to continue, but the thought was gone with the next breath she took. She was still holding back, not letting him in the way that she needed to. A flash of disgust echoed across his features at Barbara’s words. Parents weren’t protectors, at least not any of the ones he knew. “Well, I think that for Jim Gordon, it’s a good thing that he doesn’t.” The violent streak didn’t surprise him. He knew the blonde in front of him well, perhaps even a little too well to think that she didn’t mean what she said. One foot out of line and Jim Gordon would be skinned like a deer. There was something pleasing about that idea, but he kept that thought to himself. “You didn’t want to marry Roman Sionis?” He asked, a little surprised by the way she had said it. Roman was everything that Barbara loved. The height of luxury and crime. 

It was a shock to see Jonathan Crane as he exited the building he’d just seen Barbara Kean at. Immediately, the gears in his head began to turn. What an interesting new mystery he could unravel. How wonderfully intriguing! A giddy feeling started to overtake him and a bright, wide white smile crept it’s way onto his face. “Jonathan. What may I ask, are you doing here?”  

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    Jon had spotted Edward upon his exit, but hoped that the man would ignore him. Hoping was useless though. Ed had always been a curious mind and Crane knew better than to expect anything less than a hundred questions about why he was where he was. Hearing the other man address him, Jon stopped in his tracks, turning to face him. “Just because you ask a question, Ed, doesn’t mean that anyone has to answer it. But if you must know, I was giving Barbara Kean therapy.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Pam wasn’t really one to socialize, per se – or at all, unless spending time with Harley counted. But there were also those who could persuade her to leave her plants behind, even if for a brief time, and Jonathan Crane was on that list. She wasn’t sure if either she or Crane were typically capable of really making friends, but whatever they were to each other, it allowed them to at least enjoy each other’s company. She found him sitting in the restaurant booth and slid in across from him, raising an eyebrow. “Crane,” she said. “It’s not like you to suggest a lunch date.” A brief smirk touched her lips. “What is it?”

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       Jonathan looked up as Pamela called his name. He offered her a small nod instead of the polite smile that most people did. Jon wasn’t much of a smiler and he was sure that when he did smile it wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing facial expression he made. “Hello, Dr. Isley.” He greeted. “Is that what this? A date? I didn’t realize.” Jonathan wasn’t much for asking anyone to dinner, especially not for a date. “I need your help with testing for my new compound. I know you’re immune, but that’s exactly why I need you to be in the testing chamber.”