What the Storm Brings --OUTDATED--

Part 2

~*~|A Penny for Your Thoughts|~*~

"You seem almost... happy? What happened?"

Jonathan hummed quietly, turning the page before looking up at one of the few people who still tried to start conversations with him outside of the interview rooms. He briefly debated returning to his book, but decided that ignoring him would be more effort than answering the self-proclaimed genius' questions. "Simple, Mister Nigma, I'm just entertaining some... intriguing thoughts."

The other brunet sat down opposite him, one hand supporting his chin and one eyebrow arched. "Oh? Do tell. I usually find the things you come up with to be... somewhat entertaining, at least."

With a quiet sigh and a shrug that only moved one shoulder –the other still restricted, still healing– the doctor closed the novel and allowed his gaze to lock onto his impromptu companion. Anything less than his full attention would just get... 'problematic', and he had no intention of dealing with the beginnings of an attention-starved puzzle-lover. "You remember the talk of a new face here." It wasn't a question, but the deceptively-mousy man nodded regardless. "I'm merely looking forward to speaking with him, again... He's... an unusual one." He chuckled.

"How so?" Edward's voice was mildly-interested, carefully so... and the Scarecrow couldn't resist giving him a crooked grin.

"Nothing much, just that he's not scared yet~." Giddily, he watched as Edward twitched, then he had to go and ruin it by composing himself again just a moment later. Such a pity, really... so, naturally, he had to tell him just a little more –just to see what the Riddler would do next– coupled with a gleeful giggle. "I even let him have a little taste –just an eensy-weensy one, couldn't do much more with them watching like that– though I didn't get to see what it did... I think I'll go a bit further, next time, see what he's got in that cattish little head of his."

Heaving an overdramatic sigh, Edward shook his head. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant. You say he's 'unusual', but it can't be all; surely you've got something more substantial than that." Pausing, he stared at the bony man for a moment. "Wait, what do you mean, 'cattish'?"

"I mean that he seems to be rather cat-like; it's likely to not be that dissimilar to Miss Kyle, I suppose." Jonathan waved his hand dismissively, paying no heed to the way that Edward's body relaxed just a little. "I'm sure you'll understand well enough, when you meet him. I don't know how he is with riddles, though –I didn't manage to get to that part."

"It almost sounds as if you're trying to do my work for me. And you didn't answer my question." Edward said, adding a touch of a whine, followed by a tightly-controlled deadpan, for effect.

Doctor Crane smirked. "Not at all. Tell me, are you going to put his mind through its paces?"

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to, now!" was the reply, coupled with a deep scowl.

Exactly as expected... In so many ways, the Riddler was almost as predictable as Gotham's weather –cloudy, with a high likelihood of some form of rainfall on at least three days out of every week– which in turn made it so easy to prod him in the right direction, without quite seeming to. Jonathan's smirk transformed into a smile. "I think you'll appreciate his guts, if nothing else."

He eyed the ex-psychiatrist's smile as it grew –sharing a joke that Edward wasn't yet privy to. "Riddle me this, Jon. I am loved and loathed in equal measure... but if you share me, I will no longer exist. What am I?"

"Are you trying to suggest that I should 'spill the beans', Mister Nigma?"

"What do you think?"