Hey !

First, let me be juvenile and say "YOU'VE ALL JUST LOST!" *ahem*

This story is in response to a request from decepti-kitty for a Scarecrow and Riddler story (no slash, let's just clear that up before we start), so sit back and enjoy what I see as what Gotham villains would consider a good 'game night.' Ratings will go up and constructive criticism is welcome (but be nice), and as always, review

Artemis xx

Prologue

The many television screens flickered on the wall dimly, illuminating a man with brilliantly bright red hair and watery blue eyes. This combination would usuallyget the man noticed, but his attire only served to emphasise this. He was in a generic suit, but the jacket was a brilliant shade of emerald green, as well as the eccentric crocodile skin shoes he wore and the bowler hat he twirled in his green gloved hands. He smiled at the screens, each showing a faintly lit room which had been specified to fit the entertainment of the evening. Right now however, he was intently focused just one set. As opposed to the other rooms, the screen showed eight bodies strewn across the floor. Eight women, all unconscious and with no idea of the night which lay ahead of them. Most were still as the grave, others still twitching in response to the nerve gas used on them. The suited man smiled.

"So pleased you invited me over for tonight's entertainment Dr. Crane." He thanked the man to his side who was wearing a gas mask (and who was busy fiddling with a camcorder to be troubled with how the subjects on the screen were doing). Crane kept his back to the man in the green suit and continued positioning the camera.

He brushed off Dr. Crane's rebuttal genially. He was used to his compatriot's cold manner. Unravelling a Ferrero Roche from the pyramid besides his chair, Edward Nygma, more famous in the city of Gotham as the Riddler, bit into his chocolate with an appreciative moan. Whilst he was best known in the city for his love of riddles, Edward's secret passions also included a bottle of fine wine and something to satisfy his sweet tooth. Both of which, were set up in-between the two chairs.

"Why ambassador, you're spoiling me." He smiled, remembering that old chestnut of an advert which always used to make him smile. Over to his side, his host looked up from the camcorder he was setting up.

"Edward." Jonathan Crane replied from behind his mask. Although the gas mask he was wearing blocked the unimpressed look on his face, the sheer ennui in his voice told Nygma that his reference had indeed fallen flat, "Whilst I'm...ah...thrilled that you agreed to join me for tonight's experiment...and indeed, your contribution to the proceedings are much appreciated, please try and take this seriously." He muttered. Edward looked round in shock at his friend. It had been a while since the breakout in which he and his colleague had escaped Arkham. Now however, Jonathan Crane seemed so different. Instead of his scratchy burlap sack he used for a mask, in its place was now an old fashioned gas mask, covered in a sort of executioner's hood (still made from the old burlap, but still a new style) which was tied at the neck with a hangman's noose. Instead of the traditional red scarecrow top, Crane now elected to walk around topless, showing off his gangly, scared figure. What really shocked Edward however, was the change in voice. Jonathan Crane's voice was usually so deep and drawling, intimidating and commanding respect. Now however, it sounded high pitched and androgynous.

"Err...Jonathan." He asked carefully as not to offend his host, "Whilst I'm loving the...ah...new look, I'm afraid it's not logical to me as to the sudden in change...physically and...er..."

"The voice?" Crane asked as if bored of the question Nygma was asking, like he had heard it a million times before. Edward nodded.

"It's just...so unexpected, you know?" He hastily explained. Crane sighed.

"It's quite simple really." He explained, "All linked to the voice. You see, I'm afraid that being around my toxin for as long as I have has...changed me in more ways than one..."

"You mean apart from your need to always attract the Batman's attention?" Nygma interrupted irritably. Whilst it wasn't unusual for any of the villains of Gotham to end up in a one and one sparring match with the Dark Knight, Crane seemed to crave seeing Batman on his missions, along with the fact that he was the only one apart from the Joker to enjoy putting himself in life threatening situations between him and the annoying menace. Crane rolled his eyes from behind the mask.

"Yes, apart from that." He muttered. Edward shuddered. Even though the voice had changed, it's bitterness and calmness still had the power to make your blood run cold, "I'm afraid it's damaged my voice beyond recognition, even the Scarecrow's is different. After that, I decided it was time for a new approach. It's hard to look like the personification of fear as a Scarecrow when your voice doesn't do you justice." He attached a gauntleted glove to his hand and waved it in front of his guest. Nygma yelped and dived forward in his seat to avoid the many syringes attached instead of fingers. "Of course, when people think that a touch from me will trap them in their darkest nightmares...welll, fear is restored." He chuckled manically, looking back to the screen which contained the unconscious hostages. Nygma gasped in relief.

"So this isn't a trap to lure Batman into just so that you can feel fear is it?" He asked suspiciously. He hadn't given up a valuable fortnight planning this evening to end up back in Arkham.

"No." Replied Crane shortly, "Tonight's entertainment is just for us...unless you felt compelled to set up a series of clues to show Batman where the hostages are?" He countered. Nygma blushed furiously.

"Of course not. Do you think I'd face your wrath by ruining one of your experiments?" Crane sniggered from behind his mask.

"My my, such self control; especially from the likes of us." He crooned, making sure that the camera was exactly at face height (which proved a challenge considering how tall Jonathan Crane was). Nygma growled.

"I believe I took your charming girlfriend's advice and...what was it? 'Do a Sudoku instead.' Crane looked up sharply from fiddling with the tripod.

"She is not my girlfriend." He remarked haughtily, "A girlfriend is what a horny, acne scarred teenager has for an ill conceived attempt at a rite of passage. Or what the joker calls Harleen. Catherine's 24, not 16! If you must, you may call Catherine my partner."

"Whatever." Nygma snapped. He was not going to get into the pragmatics of the English language with the doctor, especially over something so petty and trivial (which, when you came down to it, Crane won anyway because he had someone to fill the bed he never slept in himself, unlike Edward). Looking around however, he suddenly realised something.

"And where is the charming Psyche tonight?" He asked, careful to disguise the scorn in his voice for Crane's not so better half, "I thought she had made it clear that you weren't to kidnap anymore women after her?"

"Catherine," Crane growled, positioning himself before a backdrop, "doesn't know what won't hurt her. Besides, you can relax Edward; she was part of the group that weren't successful on the last outbreak. As far as I know, she's still in Arkham. Apparently, lying comatose on her bed...Or so I believe." He brushed the last sentence off simply, apparently not caring that his healthy partner was reportedly catatonic, "Tonight, it's just you and me."

"Well at least she has Jervis to keep her company." Edward said snidely, not even bothering to hide his disgust for the man, "You know, he's still asking me that stupid 'riddle' of his! 'Why is raven like a writing desk?' That's not a riddle! That's just an insult to my intelligence! The man doesn't even bother trying to give a credible reply to such swill, he just walks off grinning like some drooling..."

"I'm well aware how you feel towards Tech." Crane interrupted, "And Psyche. Though be grateful. The new strain of gas used tonight was brought to you by her after the...ah...incident." Inwardly, he snarled at the memory of that disastrous event. He and Catherine had stayed up for a week strengthening their toxin, furious at the slight it had caused Crane

"Though I'd finish your glass of wine soon if I was you."

"Why's that? You haven't run out after just one bottle Scarecrow! I know you have a cellar full of this stu..."

"The subjects are beginning to come around." He whispered menacingly, "Time to start tonight's games."

"Ah, splendid." The Riddler smiled, downing the last of his glass, "Pictionary's so overrated these days."

A/N: Catherine/ Psyche is my own OC from another story. Don't worry, you don't need to know her full story for this as she's not important to the plot.

For all those waiting for Melinoe, I've started writing it but will put it up after I've finished this. Consider this a taste for what's to come xx

Out of interest, The Riddler's apparently in the next Nolan film. Question is, who do you think should play him? I quite fancy Neil Patrick Harris but that's just me. Let me know in reviews