Riddle me this Professor.

Riddler x Scarecrow

Student/Teacher

This isn't necessarily and AU because it does lead into cannon but it is AU-ish so if you're against that then this is a warning.

Takes place at Gotham University while Crane is still a teacher. Will have 2 to 3 chapters.

Slash will start next chapter

Jonathan Crane hadn't cared for much over his lifetime but he had always loved the subject of psychology. He adored everything about it, dissecting a man's mind without so much as a scalpel, poring over the volumes of bizarre behavior of hundreds upon hundreds of case studies, observing every little social choice and interaction as a road map to past horrors and future doubts. To think his career was dedicated to the most magnificent innovation in human history. He was paid to analyze it, expand its applications and teach others with the results. Oh he enjoyed the teaching, never had there been a time he was not only allowed but encourage to talk about his favorite subject in as much detail as he could manage.

It was the students he hated.

By god, he hated them. He hated the the ones who coasted by in the back rows, barely doing enough work to keep their athletic scholarships. He hated the ones up front who pandered to him, used his office hours, and never shut up. But most of all he hated the imbeciles, the ones who never did and never could understand psychology, and never appreciate the finer points for their full potential, especially fear.

Of course he considered every one who sauntered into his class an idiot. Every day they came, with their coffee that stained his floor and their parent funded books, looking half asleep and barely willing to sit through his lecture. He didn't know who wanted to be there less, them or himself.

Just into his second year as a professor and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Then one afternoon, after he'd dismissed his pupils with an irritated rub of his temples, a young man stepped up to his desk.

Even looking back he couldn't say if it was for better or for worse that the whole situation happened, but it began non the less.

"What the HELL is this?"

The wad of paper came down with such force that the slap it made on his desk echoed around the room.

Jonathan was not usually one to be startled but he been immersed in a academic journal since his students began to file out and the sudden outburst managed to make him jump. Glancing up he was met with a pair of bright, shining green eyes, eyes that held an awful lot of rage at the moment.

He had to be a student, who else could it be? He looked young enough, despite the fact that he obviously wanted to appear older, with his slicked back black hair, pressed pants, knotted tie and shirt buttoned as high as it would go. In fact the whole displayed rather made him look more like a child playing dress up then the air of maturity he was attempting to give off. You think with so much effort he put into the whole thing Jon would be able to recall his name.

Nothing, damn it. He should really work on that.

With a quick look at the paper that had been so violently presented to him he spotted the heading.

Edward Nashton

"I believe this is your last essay, Mr. Nashton."

A hand slammed down on the offending sheets, causing his desk to shake. "This is not my MINE!"

Jonathan simply raised an eyebrow, a tantrum made his juvenile mentality all the more apparent. "Oh? And what makes you say that." Surely he would have corrected him if he'd addressed him with the wrong name.

"Look at the grade."

He did. "You did well, I gave you a B."

"I don't make Bs!"

Wonderful, one of those students. "It you want to improve your grade you could always do some extra credit-"

"Don't feed me that!" he leaned over the desk, bringing them closer then what a student should be comfortable with when it came to their instructor. "This isn't about my GPA."

What a strange young man. "Then enlighten me, what exactly is this display about?"

A twitch pulled at the corner of his eye, he obviously did not like to be patronized "You, Professor."

"Oh? Its my fault, then?"

"Of course! You thought my work DESERVED a B! I never get anything but As."

"Never?" he commented with more then enough sarcasm.

"Never, no matter what." his voice was stern, he knew what he said to be true. There was something else in those words told the professor that he probably hadn't always used the proper means... but it sounded like he got what he wanted.

And it might have been that very fact that made Crane want to push him.

"The grade is what you deserved."

He might as well had insulted his mother by how red the young man's face burned.

"Of course if it means that much to you." he couldn't hold back a smirk, "I could just change it."

Before he could reach the now crumpled papers they were snatched up. A series of stomps brought Edward out of the room, followed by a dramatic door slam that shook the poor hinges.

Professor Crane smiled to himself, the kid was an interesting one.

It was a shame he'd probably never see him again.

By the next week he'd forgotten all about the crazed student. There were still lessons to be taught and he wasn't paid to linger on the past. The familiar scratch of chalk on the black board helped drown out the mindless chatter behind him. They were rowdy now but his stern voice always was always silence when he spoke. The slight scent of fear that swam in the room, fear of failure, fear of him, always cheered him up.

"Nyctophobia, is your-"

"Common fear of the dark."

That voice, high pitched and radiating with arrogance He didn't need to turn around to know who it was but he did anyway.

Green eyes and a haughty grin met him in the back row. Of course he would sit back there, everyone who have to turn away from their instructor to look at him, he'd want to make sure he was the center of attention.

Jonathan wasn't about to pander to him.

"This of course is a fear we all harbor in our youth, and stems from our-"

"Natural fear of the unknown."

Before he could correct himself he shot the young man a glare, who gave him a taunting wave using all his fingers.

Fine, if that's how he wanted to play it.

"Darkness," he raised his voice, is Mr. Nashton was going to continue to interrupt him then he was going to talk over him. "Is possibly the best symbol of the world before mankind harnessed fire and-"

"Took its first steps as a culture but-"

"Leaving a lingering instinctive fear that despite thousands of years of evolution-"

"We have yet to escape!"

By the time they were done both of them were just under the volume of screaming, leaving the rest of the class franticly looking back and forth between their professor and the odd kid in the back row, unable to decide what they were and weren't supposed to scratching down in their notebooks.

At that moment Jonathan Crane did something not a soul at Gotham University had the pleasure, or perhaps a better world would be horror, to see him do.

He laughed.

After the undergraduates filled out, most too dazed and bewildered to even complain to each other about what they'd just experienced for the last hour, the room was obnoxiously quiet compared to the earlier din.

And of course the second member of his shouting match stayed behind, he wouldn't have expected anything less. Still Jonathan sat down at his desk as if the room were empty, why should he give him what he wanted without a fight?

"Great lecture, Professor." The grin on his face just begged to have a fist plunged into it, if he had been the owner of a lesser mind he might ave considered it.

"Exactly what were attempting to prove today, Mr. Nashton?" he asked, pretending that he didn't notice the student had both hands on his desk, still far to comfortable with their student/teacher relationship. "That you studied the materiel? That you can manage to do research on your own? I would expect that of any student."

That smile was taken down a notch, to his own satisfaction. "I don't like to be taken lightly."

"Well I don't think I'll be underestimating what you'll do any time soon."

"Exactly."

He'd despised it when students rolled there eyes but it was difficult to resist. "Is this really because I gave you a B?"

"Please, I told you don't care. One bad grade won't make a difference."

"Its not a-"

"Its that you thought I deserved something so degrading. I'm not just another one of your peanut gallery sitting here listening to you drone on every week."

"Oh? And what are you, exactly?"

"I'm a lot of things, one of them being a genius."

"And this is a good enough excuse to interrupt my class?"

"Riddle me this, Professor Crane, did you not enjoy yourself?. I've been in here for three weeks and I've never seen you that enthusiastic At least not with anything but those books you're always flipping through after class, and during when you think they aren't looking."

He couldn't possible despise that grin any- wait, had he been watching him?

"If anything you should be thanking me for making things more entertaining. You're obviously board out of your mind with these nitwits."

"That's not a flattering thing to call your fellow students."

"Am I wrong?"

Silence, that was all the answer the kid needed. With an air of smug superiority he sauntered to the door.

Jonathan knit his fingers and sighed into his hand. "I don't suppose there's a chance you'll be dropping this class any time soon?" It was more a statement then a question.

The door to the classroom had already been open and hid his face but he didn't need to see him to know he was beaming

"Not on your life, professor."