Since there was obviously no way to avoid the humiliation Batman wanted to put him through, Eddie did what he could to minimize the damage. Skirting past the front door, he hammered on the service entrance instead, where he wouldn't have to deal with anyone but whatever lowly employee was assigned to sit there and accept deliveries.

He just hoped there was someone assigned to that particular duty. When the Iceberg was shorthanded, the behind the scenes jobs were the first to go.

But this time, some measure of luck was with him. After less than thirty seconds of hopping from foot to foot and pounding on the door, the steel monstrosity slid upward and he found himself face to face with a musclebound goon—a familiar one, one of the few who had spent time with the Joker and lived through it.

Without thinking, Eddie greeted the man by the name the Joker had given him.

"Judy!"

By the look on the thug's face, Eddie had to assume he'd just made a horrible mistake. He tried not to gulp too loudly, but to his relief, Judy didn't immediately start pounding his face against the wall.

"Something I can help you with?"

"Um…" His mind went blank. "Is the Mad Hatter here tonight?" Judy—what was his name?—just glared at him suspiciously. "You…you don't know who I am, do you?"

"Should I?"

"I'm…what, do I look like a cop to you?" He remembered just in time not to move his hands away from his chest. This would not be the opportune moment to reveal the bat symbol. "Just let me in, will you? Check with Oswald if it makes you feel better. It had been years since he'd had to account for himself like this to some know-nothing goon who didn't recognize him. Could this night possibly get any worse?

"All right, come on in. I'm calling the boss."

"Good." He stepped over the threshold and stumbled. Damn it. Was there really any good reason why he couldn't have put on a pair of socks?

Judy put out a hand to steady him. The scrunched-up bat symbol fell away from the shield of his hands.

Judy's grip tightened on his arm. Eddie smiled faintly.

"I can explain that."

If his nose hadn't been broken before, there was no doubt that it was after its introduction to Judy's fist.

--

Waking up in pain to the sound of soft female voices seemed to have become the default setting after any major shock, injury, or other loss of consciousness. He had sort of hoped that would stop after the girls stopped being dead…

Someone leaned over him, a bushy-haired silhouette against the overhead light, touching a warm, wet cloth to his face to clean away the dried blood. He blinked.

"Techie?"

She slapped him lightly.

"Idiot!"

Oh. Query. Okay.

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"Hatter called us when he saw Jonesy dragging your carcass into Ozzie's office. Why didn't you just tell him who you were? You could have saved yourself a broken nose."

"No, it was already broken."

"The concussion, then, retard!" She slapped him again with the damp rag.

"Hey!" Quiz protested. "If you're going to beat him silly, wait until we get him home. I'm not going to be the one to carry him all the way out to the car."

"We could just leave him here," Query smirked. Quiz threw herself down on the couch near his head, laughing.

"She's just kidding, Riddles. Pengy wouldn't let us do that. We already asked. 'This is not a hotel, my delectable duo of deviants. Although…'" She quacked lecherously, something he had never heard anyone but the Penguin himself actually pull off.

"You don't really want to leave me here, do you, ladies? After all, without me, how are you going to get back at Batman for knocking you out and tying you up?" And for not sticking around after he got you into that position? Quiz tapped him lightly between the eyes. Eddie flinched as pain blossomed through his skull.

"Yeah, I think we could handle this without you."

"Just get up." Query snatched off the blanket—well, he had assumed that was a blanket covering his legs; now that he looked at it, it bore a striking resemblance to the yellow cape that used to hang over the mantle. That was almost touching. Oswald never took that thing down.

"Here, put these on." Quiz dropped a pair of moth-eaten wool socks on his face. He held them up to the light.

"Did you get these from…"

"Killer Moth," she confirmed. "He's still in one piece, but his face is real red. One atomic wedgie, and he gave them right up." Eddie groaned.

"You didn't do that in front of everyone, did you?"

"Hey, it got them to stop laughing at you."

Touché. And as long as Walker wasn't still hanging by his waistband from the chandelier, he didn't need to feel guilty, did he?

Once again, his girls had come through for him. Sometimes it was nice to have help.

He hoped Jonathan appreciated his.