A/N: Since I already know I'm going to get yelled at for this, I'm going to put a warning right here so you can leave right now if you don't like it. (If you don't want the chapter to be spoiled for you, even though it's really obvious, just skip ahead to the chapter itself.)

If the past few chapters weren't an indication, Riddler and Janice/Question Mark are going to be a couple. If you don't like pairings involving fancharacters, pairings involving Riddler, or the Riddler/Janice pairing, I would just...stop reading right now, because pretty much this entire chapter is about developing their relationship. If, however, you don't mind the idea of these two as a couple, feel free to keep reading. I hope people like, or at least tolerate, these two; I've been trying very, very hard to develop their relationship in a believable manner. If you have constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it, although it won't affect the writing of the story, because by the time you guys see this, it'll already be done. And this being the second/third draft, I am not going to rewrite it again. Not for a very long time, at least. I have more important things to be doing and it's not like this is a published work; I wrote it for fun, for others' enjoyment, and, my number one reason for doing anything, because I can. If you don't like it, that's OK. As long as at least one other person gets some amusement from this story, I'm a happy panda.

Also, second warning: This chapter is *really fucking long*! As in '22 pages in a word document' long! I suggest taking multiple breaks while reading.

Chapter Seven

All This Time

When Riddler awoke the first thing he realized was that he was clearly no longer in the research and development room of Reyner Corp., the last place he remembered being before he had passed out. In fact, he seemed to be lying on some sort of soft surface, completely opposite from the cold, hard floor of the computer lab, covered by soft blankets. His head was still throbbing, but not with the same intensity as it had when he had first been struck. At first he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, afraid that the surroundings he'd find himself in would be the all too familiar medical bay of Arkham Asylum, but realizing the room lacked the familiar disinfectant stench, he lifted one weary eyelid ever so slightly.

No, definitely not the medical bay.

The room he was in was certainly familiar, but not in the same way. It was almost a comfort to him to see the familiar drab beige of the walls, the mahogany of the furniture, the pristine white bed trappings. Permission to access this room was usually denied to him for anything but absolute necessity, but he recognized it easily enough; it was Janice's bedroom, and he was resting in her bed. He felt something wrapped around his head, and found that someone, presumably Janice, had bandaged his head wound. Looking around, he saw a roll of bandages on the table beside him, and some already bloodstained ones deposited into the wastebasket. Clearly he had been unconscious far longer than he had thought.

Just as he was beginning to wonder what, exactly, had happened after he had been knocked out, the bedroom door opened, and standing there was Janice, holding a glass of water in one hand with a bottle of what looked to be painkillers held in the crook of her arm, the other hand holding the door open just enough for her to be able to see inside. When she noticed that he was quite clearly awake, she opened the door fully and entered the room, transferring the pill bottle to her now free hand.

"So, you're finally awake, are you?" she said, sounding incredibly tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair and clothes weren't in the best of shape. He wondered if it was because she had been taking care of him all this time, but he quickly dismissed the idea; there was no way she would have spent long enough taking care of him to become that exhausted. It was more likely that she just hadn't gotten a good night's sleep because he had been occupying her bed, leaving her the rather uncomfortable couch. Of course, that formulated the question of why she had placed him in the bed, rather than on the couch, in the first place, but he was already confused enough as it was, and didn't feel like thinking about it. He blinked wearily at her.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked. Janice thought about it for a moment.

"Mm, about 12 hours." she replied, brushing her hair back. "You must have gotten hit pretty hard, you had a nice, sizable wound that was bleeding a lot. Speaking of your head, I thought you might want some of these." She shook the pill bottle, making the contents rattle enticingly.

"If you're offering." he said, sitting up slightly. She walked over to him and moved over the roll of bandages, making room for the glass of water, and handed him the bottle. Riddler opened it and shook two pills into the palm of his hand, popping them both into his mouth at once and chased them down with the water. As he waited for them to take effect and rid him of the dull throbbing in his head, he turned towards her. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well, in summation, after you got knocked out, I had to save your sorry ass by dragging you out of there and stealing a car. Then I had to sneak you up here. And I want you to know it was hard." she said. Riddler rolled his eyes at her.

"How many times do I have to say "it's just a part of the job" before you start to comprehend it?" he asked.

"A few more." she grumbled in reply. "But you really should be more careful. I may have a medical degree, but I won't always be around to get you out of situations like that. And if you'd had a concussion, you might never have woken up.. but I don't think you do. I suppose you know enough to know whether or not you do at this point, anyway." she said.

"I realize that, and I'll have you know I did quite well before I even met you." he pointed out huffily. She chuckled.

"Suuuure you did, chief. That's why I met you in an asylum for the criminally insane. It makes perfect sense." she replied sarcastically. He glared at her, but his expression softened ever so slightly, and he sighed, knowing that she was at least partially right. His previous accounts as a bona fide super villain had not gone so well; he was just too theatrical. Janice's realism kept him grounded, and they had so far achieved, as a team, much more than he had ever been able to alone. If not the kindest or most eloquent person, she was, at least, his ideal partner. He cleared his throat.

"Well, regardless, I, uh..." he paused mid-sentence, trying to think of what to say next, but settled for the simplest reply. "Thank you." She did a double take, trying to make sure she had heard that correctly.

"You're, uh, welcome...I guess..." she mumbled, shaking her head. She didn't even want to know anymore. "Well, you should rest for a while longer, just to make sure your head's stopped bleeding. I'll be out in the living room." she said. Not bothering to wait for a reply, she turned away, and began walking back towards the door. Riddler watched her for only a fraction of a second before realizing what he was doing, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to accelerate the effects of the painkillers with the power of his mind. It didn't seem to work, so he tried to turn over so as to attempt to fall asleep for a while longer, and quickly discovered that wasn't a good idea. He didn't have a very good recollection of the fight last night; most of it was a blur, as fast-paced battles ending in his defeat usually were, but it was clear that the blow to the back of the head wasn't the only injury he had received, evidenced by the pain exploding in the right side of his ribcage as he tried to turn on his side. Surprised, he let out an agonized yell, and the response was instantaneous; Janice spun on her heel and rushed back to the side of the bed, worry clearly present in her eyes. She put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on his opposite arm. "Edward, what's wrong?" she asked, for once her voice lacking its usual cutthroat edge. Riddler returned to his original lying position and let out a small, shuddering sigh, thankful for the sharp pain to be gone. It took a moment for him to realize that Janice was standing over him, and looked up at her, surprised at her sudden compassion. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words, so instead just settled for staring at her a while longer. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized what she was doing and immediately took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest and trying her hardest not to blush, which didn't succeed. Riddler blinked several times, then shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. There were a lot of things he wanted to say at the moment, but he tried to ignore most of them, and instead chose to say the worst possible thing he could have at that moment.

"You've got good reaction time." he said. "Is that a product of your medical training? Or were you just that worried about me?" he asked snarkily.

Janice snapped.

Giving Riddler no time to react, she took a step forwards, and slapped him soundly across the face. As she turned on her heel again, shrieking almost incomprehensible curses at him, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, he raised a hand to his now bright red cheek, which was stinging violently. His vision was swimming and his ears ringing from a mix of the force of the slap and his still pounding headache, and he laid his head on the pillow, waiting to regain the ability to focus. The pain took second place in his mind to what had just taken place. He should have been glad that Janice seemed to be back to her normal, violent self, but there was nothing normal about what had just happened. Although he hadn't known her for very long, he could tell there was something strange about the way she was acting; she seemed so confident, so completely self-assured, and yet it barely took prompting for her to become flustered and vulnerable. When he had first noticed that she was acting strangely, he had thought it was just his imagination, but it was clear now that it wasn't. The only question remaining was why she was acting that way.

Was it possible that Janice really had fallen for him?

No. No, there was no way that could have happened. Janice hated him, that was apparent enough. She had hated him since they had first met.

But then, why?

Maybe the entire thing really was a product of his imagination. Maybe Janice wasn't really acting differently at all.

Maybe he just wanted her to.

Riddler considered himself a rather sensible person, all things considered, and self-denial was something he abhorred. He couldn't deny it any longer; somewhere along the line, he had fallen for Janice. Maybe the changes he thought he was seeing were just his imagination striving to make him think that she loved him in return.

Too tired, in too much pain, and too confused to think about it any longer, Riddler relished in the sudden blanket of painkiller induced exhaustion that lulled him towards a deep sleep.

Janice grumbled incoherently as she paced aimlessly in her small kitchen, trying to blow off some serious steam. She had been angry at Riddler before, countless times, but never quite to this degree; she honestly wanted to stomp in there, throw him out of her bed, and scream at him to get the hell out of her house. Normally she could mostly dismiss his snarky comments because she deserved to have them thrown at her; often she said something worse first. But where the fuck did he get off saying something like that to her when she'd gone to the trouble of dragging him out of the building, hijacking a car, sneaking him back into the apartment, and patching him up, all out of the kindness of her own heart? It was almost like he wanted to get thrown out. Or, at the very least, punched in the face.

The worst part was that his comment shouldn't have even bothered her. His implications had no grounding in reality; in fact, they were about as far from the truth as he could get. She didn't care about him; his well being was meaningless to her. He was a complete jerk and horrible partner, and was quite possibly the least favorite boss she'd ever had. She wasn't worried about him. She wasn't.

Janice threw herself dramatically onto the couch with a sigh. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she would start to believe it. Because the truth was that she did worry about him. When she'd seen him lying there, completely defenseless, she'd practically snapped. The thought that he might be hurt...the thought that the Bats might throw him back into Arkham...it had practically stopped her heart. The truth was, she did worry about him.

As much as she didn't want to, she did care. Although how much she cared, she still wasn't sure.

And it was because she worried, because she cared, that his remark had set her off. She was almost willing to admit to herself that she cared, but having Riddler know was an entirely different story, because Riddler didn't care; he only cared about himself, and wouldn't hesitate to hold it above her for all eternity. That was what she kept telling herself, at least; it was sort of hard to believe when she would catch him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, and it wasn't always the expected lust that was in his eyes.

She wasn't yet sure exactly how she felt about Riddler, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. No matter what the answer, she would lose; if she didn't care about him in that way, they would never be able to stop fighting, which would obviously spell disaster; if she did, then everything about them would change—and not necessarily for the better. Right now she was lingering in a sort of gray area, as far as she could tell; a place where she could fall into either perfect distaste or idyllic enchantment, interchangeably, at any moment. And that was turning her brain into a staticy mess, too muddled and blurred to understand. All she knew was that it was all too confusing for her liking, and it was definitely going to screw her up during both of her "jobs", neither of which she wanted to lose. The only way she could think of to keep herself from becoming distracted was to remove what was distracting her.

Riddler needed to get out of her apartment.

Not permanently, of course—just long enough for her to develop an immunity to his more appealing traits; his androgynous good looks, his sharp wit, his staggering intelligence. Once she got past those particular attractions, his snarky, narcissistic nature would no doubt send her plummeting back into her state of loathing, and eventually one of tolerance. A perfectly constructed business relationship, nothing more, nothing less. Exactly what two Gotham villains working together needed, she had quickly learned.

Rising sluggishly, she stumbled her way exhaustedly (and more than a little back-broken—she almost felt guilty about making Riddler sleep on that dreadfully uncomfortable couch) toward the bedroom, intent on yelling at him to get out of her apartment (or stutter at him, if her current track record was any indication). Without even bothering to announce her entrance, since his privacy meant very little to her, especially when he was currently residing in her bedroom, she entered, trying to look calm and composed, but failing utterly.

"Riddler, I—" She started to speak, but cut off when she noticed that Riddler was fast asleep. At first she had every intention of waking him up, but after watching him for a few moments, she realized that she really didn't want to. He looked so...uncharacteristically peaceful like this. His face was flushed, giving his inhumanly pale skin a slightly red tint, and she wondered what he was dreaming about that would make him blush. She remembered the towel stunt she had pulled the other day and mentally slapped herself; it must have seemed like she was coming on to him. Thinking about it now, that was probably why he had said something like that in the first place; he wouldn't have known that she had only done that to see him get as flustered as she felt most of the time, and it was completely obvious that it had been on purpose.

Janice practically threw up; she had looking like she was flirting. Which had not been the case at all. She had stopped denying (at least to herself) the fact that she was attracted to Riddler, but she was in no way in love with him; she'd never really been in love with anyone, and Riddler certainly wasn't going to be the first.

She turned her attention once more to Riddler's sleeping form. His eyelids fluttered, and she stiffened, afraid he was going to wake up and discover her watching him, but he merely muttered something in his sleep and shifted slightly, wincing as he did so but remaining asleep. Her body didn't relax from its alert position, mostly because her brain had ceased all function in hopes that it would be able to keep her from thinking too hard about what she had just heard. Sure, Riddler was still asleep, and that was all well and good, because he wouldn't see her watching him sleep like some sort of tame voyeur.

But, unless her hearing was starting to fail her, she had just heard Riddler mutter her name—and not with disdain or scorn or any of those wonderfully negative emotions that she wanted associated with their relationship, but instead with—and it nearly made her retch for the second time that day—affection.

No, no, no. She had to be imagining it. Riddler could not be falling for her. He was Riddler, a narcissistic, arrogant bastard. Hadn't she just spent 15 minutes convincing herself (or at least trying to that he didn't care? And she didn't want him to care. If he cared, if he (God forbid) was in love with her, that would make everything so much more difficult.

Maybe she was just reading too much into it, or better yet, imagining it completely. For all she knew, he was dreaming about shooting her between the eyes. Because he couldn't be in love with her, or even care at all. If he hated her, that would make everything so much easier, because once her own minute infatuation faded, she wouldn't have to worry about his. And it was only a minute infatuation. She was reluctant to use the word 'crush', because it made her sound like a giggly teenage girl, but that was what it had to be.

Riddler's eyelids fluttered again, but Janice didn't stiffen this time; she was too lost in her own thoughts to care, and besides, it was her bedroom; there were a thousand reasons why she could be in there. Not that he would believe a single one, but still. He was no longer muttering things to himself, but his placid facial expression contorted into one of uncomfortable worry. She furrowed her own brow, wondering if he was having a nightmare, or at least an unpleasant dream. Either way, she didn't like his expression; it was too much like the one he normally wore, and she had been enjoying his calm look. Especially since he wasn't wearing his usual layer of makeup, she having removed it when she'd brought him in. It made him look more natural, more human, and while he was "handsome but feminine" while wearing it, without it he was just handsome. His cheekbones were prominent, making his face look almost hollow, a perfect match to his protruding ribs and inhumanly flat stomach; he was so thin he looked like a walking skeleton, but on him, it worked.

Riddler's eyebrows furrowed further, and his eyes clenched as a small whimper escaped his throat. Instead of freezing again, Janice went by her instincts and strode forwards, away from the door and towards the side of the bed. She seated herself on the very edge and reached towards his face, her fingers ghosting against the side of his temple and jaw, her deeply tanned fingers a painful contrast to his alabaster skin. She tenderly stroked the side of his face, until his expression relaxed again. She kept her hand there for a few moments, watching as he tilted his head into it, before realizing what she was doing and pulling her hand away, jumping up and retreating to the dresser at the opposite end of the room. To compensate for the withdrawal of her hand, Riddler turned over onto his left, uninjured side and buried his face in her goose-down pillow.

What am I doing? She asked herself. So he's having a bad dream. So what? You're trying to get over this stupid crush, Janice, even being here is counter-productive. To avoid staring at Riddler, she turned her attention towards the dresser, which had only been ornamental until he had moved in. Now it housed Riddler's unworn casual clothing (he usually wore his costume, even just around the apartment) and most of his other belongings, at least of a personal nature. At least, that was what she had been told; despite sleeping in that room every night, she'd never once looked. Not so much out of respect for his privacy, more because she'd never really cared. But now, in desperate need of a distraction, she opened the oak dresser.

There wasn't much to see, really. Hanging in the dresser were a few t-shirts in various colors and a couple of pairs of jeans, all perfectly clean and obviously never worn, with a jacket folded away neatly on the top shelf, still sporting a price tag. It all seemed very uninteresting until she noticed the bag sitting at the bottom, showing signs of recent use, thrown in so hastily that it wasn't even closed. Her interest peaked, she pulled out the green shoulder bag and emptied it onto her nearby vanity, with little regard for the state of the contents. It was filled mostly by useless-looking pieces of machinery and computer equipment, which she quickly waded through to find the only two items of interest; a leather men's wallet, looking very out of place next to the feminine bag, and a smaller bag that was also still open. She first went through the wallet, but found nothing of interest; less than five dollars, and a few contact cards occupying the credit card slots. After pocketing the money (recompense for the increased food and utility bills, not to mention all of the computer equipment she'd bought for him) and replacing the wallet, along with all of the computer junk, she turned her attention to the smaller bag. She opened it further and emptied its contents onto the now-unoccupied vanity top, smirking at the results.

It was Riddler's makeup.

His lipstick, eyeshadow, and nail polish (all in black) were all lying on the vanity, all recently used (she guessed that was why the bag wasn't shut, Riddler had probably been in too much of a rush the night before). She had always wondered where he kept his makeup between uses, because whenever she saw him, he had a fresh coat; in fact, the first time she had ever seen him without any makeup at all was when she had washed it off of him upon bringing him in during the early hours of the morning. The mental image of Riddler having to stand in line at a store to buy an assortment of makeup (all of which appeared to be popular, expensive name brands, none the less) made her laugh, which she had to stifle in order to avoid waking him up.

Tapping her lower lip in thought, she examined all of the makeup. All three pieces were fairly full and looked nearly brand-new, and all of it was much better than what she had (a fact that made her a bit jealous); if she were to, hypothetically, use some of it, Riddler would probably be none the wiser. She smiled at the thought; stealing from Riddler without any repercussions seemed very tempting, and she had always wondered what she would look like wearing it. After all, if Riddler could pull it off, then she could logically only make it look better. With a grin, she reached forwards and plucked the eyeshadow (and accompanying brush) from the counter and pulled the stool out from under the vanity, sitting on it.

For the next ten or so minutes she sat there, carefully applying the eyeshadow, lipstick, and then the nail polish. While she was sitting there, waiting for it to dry, she heard the creaking of bed springs and a low chuckling. When she turned around, Riddler was sitting up (a bit awkwardly, because of his injuries, but still sitting up) and peering around to try and see in the mirror, although he settled back when she turned towards him.

"You look good." he said, tilting his head to the side, as though examining her like a painting. "Not as good as me, but still. Good. You know, you should really incorporate that into your outfit. It would help us match more." At the compliment, she blushed, and turned back towards the mirror.

"Why would I want to match you?" she hissed, looking at herself in the mirror. It was true; she did match Riddler, although her skin tone wasn't as well suited to the color as his was. The black makeup against the alabaster skin made a certain impact; added to his black hair, it made him look almost like a highly sinister porcelain doll. With her, it merely looked like ordinary makeup, which was a nice, but mundane, effect.

"You seemed to be pretty intent on matching me when I found you." he said, letting his head rest on the headboard.

"I wasn't trying to match you, I was trying to cover my tracks. You'd be surprised how little motive comes into question when police think they're dealing with a copycat." she explained, blowing on her nails to make them dry faster. Riddler waved a hand in dismissal.

"Details, details." he said. "Speaking of, so long as you have me stuck here, could you bring me my work? I'd like to have it at least functional by the time I'm on my feet again." Janice rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself slightly.

"Yeah, whatever. Where is it?" she asked, blowing on her nails once more for good measure as she stood.

"It should be by the couch. Be careful, it's in pieces. Oh, and I'll need my toolkit, the computer, and you did grab the flash drive with the program on it, right?" he asked. She rolled her eyes again and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Grabbed it as I was running to your aid. You're welcome, by the way." she said, turning towards the door. Less than a minute later, she returned with full arms, holding the various pieces of the machine that Riddler had been painstakingly piecing together, her own hijacked laptop (she'd stopped caring that he'd essentially stolen it), the flash drive, and an emerald green tool belt. She walked over and dumped the stuff onto the bed beside him. "Think you'll be okay for the time being? Can I go take care of some stuff without you whining?" she asked.

"I never whined. You're the one who kept checking on me." he reminded her, picking up the various pieces, as well as his tool belt. "But yes, I should be fine. If I do need anything, I'll let you know." he said. She walked across the room towards the bathroom and opened the door before turning towards him again.

"Try not to need anything." she said, slipping inside.

When Janice emerged about an hour later, she was fully dressed, her hair dripping wet, and the makeup washed off. Riddler had completed a good portion of the machine's assembly in the meantime, and the large pile of half-assembled pieces had dwindled considerably. It was starting to look less like a mess and more like an actual machine, giving Janice some confidence that it might actually work.

She walked over to the nightstand and leaned back against it, arms crossed, her gaze shifting from Riddler to the machine in his lap and back.

"So," she said, finally settling her eyes on him. "what's our game plan?" she asked.

"Well, as soon as I finish this, and I'm given the OK to get up, we'll need to find a computer that's connected to the city wide network." he explained. "Hopefully one with weaker security. I'm not sure the program we stole will be able to fight past anything particularly strong."

"What does that program do, anyway?" she asked.

"Well, normally, it's your run-of-the-mill file sharing program. But with a bit of reworking, and the help of this machine, it could easily become an invasive file sharing program, able to easily deliver unwanted files to a mass amount of computers without fail, and I've developed a virus that will completely overtake any computer it infects." he explained, attaching another piece of the machine. "So if I upload the virus to the city network.."

"...then you'll have control over every computer in Gotham." she finished. "Including everything in the city that's run by them, like the trains, banks, stores..." Riddler nodded.

"Complete, citywide control." he said. Now it was Janice's turn to nod.

"Huh. That plan's actually...good. I'm shocked." she said. "And you've been planning this from the start?" she asked.

"I've been planning this since long before our partnership started, actually. It's been about 6 months in the works." he explained. "In fact, when the Bat captured me, I was working on getting some of the preliminary parts."

"Well, that attempt certainly failed." she said with a chuckle. Riddler narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything in rebuttal, knowing it was the truth. "I guess it's a good thing I came along, after all." Now it was Riddler's turn to chuckle, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headrest.

"I wouldn't be singing your own praises if I were you." he said. "You've done well so far, but being overconfident is what usually lands us villains in Blackgate and Arkham." Janice smirked.

"So you admit that I've been doing well." she said. Riddler rolled his eyes and leaned forwards again, going back to working on the machine.

"Yes, I admit that you've been doing well. You've done your job efficiently and usually without fail, you've gotten me what I need, and you've adjusted much faster than I ever imagined." he said. "So far, you're more than par for the course. I'm just saying that you shouldn't let it go to your head. The overconfident tend to make mistakes, and making mistakes is what gets us caught." Janice gave him a 'you're kidding' look before stepping away from the nightstand and towards the bedroom door.

"Don't worry, I'll be the humblest of the humble. Might wanna work on that yourself, though." she said. "By the way, I'm leaving now. Don't know when I'll be back, so try not to bleed to death or anything while I'm gone."

"Leaving? Where do you have to be on a Saturday afternoon, dressed like that?" he asked, examining her outfit; it looked very similar to what she normally wore to work, only slightly fancier. "Normally you just putter around the apartment or go shopping or some such."

"I may work for you, but that doesn't mean I don't have a normal life, too. And I plan for things to stay that way as long as possible. It helps to keep the suspicion off of me." she explained. "And if you really need to know, I'm going on a date." Riddler was slightly startled by the reply, but didn't say anything to betray it.

"A date? With who?" he asked, trying to sound casual, although his peaked interest flavored every word.

"My boss." she replied. "The principal of the school. He called while you were still unconscious. He seems to have an interest in me, so I figure if I play nice I might actually get a raise decent enough to be able to afford the extra living costs." She sent a meaningful glare his way.

"So a pity date, then." he said. She shrugged.

"Never said that." she replied. "A date can be for multiple purposes. My job advancement opportunities are just one of them."

"So it is an actual date." Riddler clarified. Janice turned to look at him.

"One, why are you talking like a teenager, and two, why do you care?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I ask questions. It's what I do." he replied. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, as long as you're content with not getting the answers." she said. "Because frankly, whether or not I'm going on an actual date as opposed to a pity date really is none of your concern."

"It is if there's any possibility it might get in the way of your work." he said. "Trust me, relationships between villains and law abiding citizens never work, even when the villain's identity is a secret." Janice raised a questioning eyebrow.

"And you know this because?" she asked, turning back towards him, one hand on her hip and the other allowing her to lean against the door. Riddler didn't look at her, and merely continued to work while he spoke.

"Because people with highly questionable morals tend not to get along very well with people with upstanding morals. It's logic. Try using some on occasion." he spat. Janice rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Seeya." she said, opening the bedroom door and slipping out into the main room. Just before it closed completely, she stuck her head back in the room. "And by the way, my cell will be off, so tough luck if you were planning on calling me and messing up my date." And then she slipped back out and slammed the door, and moments later, he heard the front door close as well.

"Wouldn't dream of it." he muttered.

Face it, Riddler; you're jealous.

The almost completed machine lay on the left side of the bed, along with all of the tools, Janice's laptop, and the few remaining pieces, while Riddler lay on the right, all hopes of trying to get any real work done abandoned in favor of staring at the ceiling.

You shouldn't be, and yet somehow, you are. She's out there, on a date with some morally upstanding high school principal, and you wish it was you. Face the facts; you've gotten in way too deep. You promised yourself you wouldn't let this happen again, and now look what you've done; at least before, you thought there might be a chance that Julie could love you. But you know that, even if on the off chance Janice does love you, she'll never do anything about it. She's too stubborn...

Riddler rolled over onto his side, facing away from the almost completed machine.

"What am I thinking? I don't want her to love me...that would make things too...complicated." he muttered to himself, turning back onto his back.

Would it, though? Would it really? You know you love her...you've stopped denying that. Would it be better for that to be unrequited, and end up making you miserable and distracted? Or would it be better for her to love you in return, and possibly end up fixing all of the issues you've had so far? You would be the perfect team...

"Real life doesn't work like that. Love only distracts you. And in this line of work, distractions are the last thing I need." he said.

Distractions have nothing to do with it; you're scared. Scared you'll just get hurt again.

"So what if I am? There's nothing wrong with being afraid of soul-destroying pain." he said. "Love is trust. I trusted Julie. And look where that got me. I could have been a successful scientist, but instead, I can't walk down the street without being arrested."

Which is a life that you chose, and one that Janice chose as well. Look at it this way; have you had any issues with trusting her so far? Has she done anything yet to ruin your life?

"...no, she hasn't. In fact, she's been a wonderful partner; and if she hasn't betrayed me yet..." Riddler shook his head violently. "No, no, no, no, no! There's no way I'm going to tell her. Knowing her, she'll probably turn me in to the police."

Not if she cares about you.

"She doesn't." he said, turning over again, this time facing the electronics. He looked at each part; all of them products of their partnership. "Women like her don't fall in love with men like me."

God, he really was psychotic.

Riddler looked up from the computer, having finished the machine and now working on installing the necessary components for it to function, when he heard a knock at the door.

"Is Your Highness Bitchfit feeling well enough for company?" he heard Janice ask.

"Since when do you knock?" he asked in return. Janice seemed to take than as an OK, and opened the door, slipping inside.

"Since you practically bite my head off for the stupidest things. Don't need you bursting a blood vessel because I came in without knocking; I'm pretty tired of patching you up." she explained.

"You've only had to do that once." he reminded her.

"Which is once more than I ever wanted to." she replied.

"So, how did your date go?" Riddler asked, trying to sound casual, an effect thwarted by the amount of venom in the word 'date'. Janice shrugged.

"OK, I guess. I'm pretty sure he enjoyed it, so hopefully my next paycheck will be a bit more generous with the work bonuses." she said. "But I did manage to slip in a question I think you'll be interested in knowing the answer to." Riddler raised an eyebrow in mock interest.

"Oh? Really, now? And what is that?" he asked, his voice a dull monotone with no attempts at emotion. Janice rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly.

"The school's utilities happened to come up in conversation, which, by the way, mostly revolved around work, so don't get your skinny jeans in a twist; and I happened to think to ask if the school computers are connected to the citywide network. Turns out, they are." she explained. "I'll give them a quick once over on Monday to make sure they aren't too heavily protected, although I highly doubt that they are. Then we're free to make our move." Riddler froze for a second.

"...oh. Well, good work, I suppose." he said, feeling rather embarrassed. Janice shrugged, leaning back against the now closed door.

"No big deal. Something good's gotta come of every bad date out there." she said. He looked at her in surprise.

"Bad date?...you had a bad time?" he asked, trying not to sound as happy about that as he felt, which admittedly did not help his internal argument. She sighed and shook her head.

"Yeah, kind of. I mean, it wasn't the kind of bad that makes you want to sneak out the back door before dessert, but I was bored stiff the entire time." she replied. "To be honest, I would have rather been out pulling another heist. But with you bedridden and all, and all the parts for this Wonder-Machine of yours already snatched, I didn't see the point."

"You could have gone alone, you know. For a bank robbery or an art gallery steal, something to lighten my apparent monetary burden." he said. She shook her head.

"I'm the sidekick, remember? That was our agreement. I'll stick to it as long as you do." she said. "And the way I see it, it's unprofessional for the sidekick to go off on their own and do something without their boss there." Riddler raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Are you sure you're not just too scared of being caught if I'm not there to help you?" he asked. She chuckled.

"In case you care to remember, the ass-saving ratio is in my favor, so I don't think that's much of an issue. But nice try." she said. "Mostly I'm afraid that you'll get bitchy if the public happen to realize I kick more ass than you do."

"I'm afraid that won't happen, Janzy. You're too new to the business. I still scare them more than you could even hope to, because I've been around longer; they know they should be afraid of me." he explained, waving a hand in dismissal, going back to working on the computer.

"What the hell did you just call me?" Janice asked, looking at Riddler like he had suddenly sprouted a second head, a look he noticed when he glanced up from his work upon hearing the question.

"Oh. Well, calling you Question Mark is stupid, and calling you Janice sounds too formal. So, 'Janzy'." he replied. "Don't flatter yourself, I do it for everyone. It just makes things easier to keep track of, that's all."

"I wasn't flattering myself, I was wondering where the real Riddler had gone." she corrected. "You've been acting really weird lately; first you snap at me for the weirdest things, and now you're giving me nicknames. I wish you would make up your goddamn mind." she said.

"Well, maybe this is the real Riddler." he replied. "And you just didn't know it."

"Jeeze, you're acting really weird today." Janice said, crossing her arms. "Like, more than usual. You sure the Bats didn't hit you too hard?" she asked. Riddler sighed.

"I'm not even sure. I think I may be having an epiphany, but I'd rather assume I have a concussion." he explained. The look on Janice's face could only be described as 'confused beyond belief'.

"OK then, uh...good luck with that." she said. "Are you feeling OK enough to get up?" she asked.

"I have been for hours now." he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Why, are you going to make another 'worried' quip?" she asked in response.

"No, I think the slap to the face cured me of all desire to do that again." he replied. "Like I said before, it's just in my nature to ask questions."

"Yeah, well." she said, rolling her eyes. "Pardon me if I don't always trust you. Anyways, I was just asking because I figured you'd be hungry by now, and I know I can't cook worth shit. If you weren't, I would've ordered something." Riddler set the computer aside and lifted himself out of bed. For the first time, Janice noticed that he was wearing his casual clothing. He swam in the plain black shirt, an article of clothing clearly designed for someone with substance, and he was practically walking on the hem of his jeans. "You know,this is the first time I've seen you wearing anything other than your costume." Riddler shrugged.

"Yes, well. I can't exactly wear that all the time." he said. "I don't just have these clothes for giggles. Besides, it's not practical for me to wear a full-body spandex suit all day." he pointed out.

"And yet, usually you do." Janice replied. "I mean, you even sleep in costume. Is that because you like to, or do you just not trust me?" she asked.

"You're a hard person to trust." he pointed out. She smirked.

"So does that mean you trust me now?" she asked. Riddler rolled his eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself." he replied. "I just wanted to be comfortable. Trust has nothing to do with it." Janice rolled her eyes.

"You know, you'd make a great politician. You can sidestep questions with the greatest of ease." she said. "Can't you just give me a straight answer? Do you trust me, or not?" she asked.

"Do we really have to have this conversation right now?" he asked in response. She nodded matter-of-factly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we do." she replied. "Why, when would you like to have the conversation? When we're in the middle of a heist? When I'm at work? Now seems like the perfect time. After all, neither of us is exactly busy." Riddler pushed his hair back and sighed.

"Truthfully?" he said. "If I didn't, I wouldn't still be letting you be my partner. You're one of the only people I've met for a very long time who I've been able to trust, actually. I didn't trust you at all at first, but you proved yourself loyal. You never left, even when the Bats showed up. So yes, I trust you." he replied. "Can we go eat now?" Janice smiled.

"Yeah. Sure."

The rest of the day and all of Sunday went without event; Riddler spent his time finishing the machine, and Janice did whatever she could think of; household chores, shopping, whatever struck her fancy. She would have preferred to be out wreaking havoc, but Riddler was not only busy, but quite adamant about doing anything else until the machine was completed. 'There's no use in attracting any unwanted attention and getting captured right before we initiate our plan.' he'd said, which left her wandering aimlessly around the apartment for most of the two days. When Monday morning finally arrived, she was almost relieved to be back at work, if only for something to do. But it wasn't just teaching that she had on her mind; she knew she had to check the network access, something she wouldn't have a chance to do until last period, since that was her only class not currently in the middle of a project.

She determinedly ignored the teacher's lounge, where she usually spent her free time before her first period class started, because she wanted to limit her chances of running into Jonathan; the date had been boring enough, she didn't want him ruining her Monday, too. Unfortunately, he seemed to be psychic, and was waiting for her in her classroom.

"Ah, Janice. Good morning. Did you have a good weekend?" he asked, stepping away from her desk, where he had been going through her lesson plan.

"Yeah. Sunday was kind of boring, but I got through it alright." she replied, forcing a smile. He didn't seem to notice the phoniness of her grin, and just smiled sincerely in return.

"You should have called me. I'm sure I could have found someplace we could have gone." he said. Janice did her best to not gag or roll her eyes exasperatedly, but a nervous little hiccup escaped regardless.

"Yeah, well...I didn't want to bother you on your only two days off." she lied. "And besides, I had a few household chores to catch up on."

"Oh yes, because of your guest, right?" he asked. Janice tried not to be shocked by the fact that he somehow knew she had someone staying in her apartment, even though she had never mentioned the fact; Jonathan wasn't the brightest man around, but after her slip around Barbara, she wasn't going to take that risk. However, Jonathan still noticed her confusion. "Barbara Gordon told me. Sweet girl, even if she can be a bit of a troublemaker sometimes. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked. She responded with the sweetest, most honest smile she could muster.

"Of course. I love having her in my class. She's always ready to take initiative and she isn't afraid to...take risks or speak her mind." she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking like it normally did when she lied. Riddler would have noticed in a moment that she was lying, but Jonathan was far from being Riddler, and her smile was convincing enough to him.

"I'm glad to hear that." he said. "Most of her teachers complain about her constantly. She's really a bright kid, she just has a lot of excess energy." he continued. She nodded politely, trying desperately to not display the fact that she really didn't want him around. Luckily, she didn't have to pretend for long, because he happened to look up and see the clock mounted on the wall. "Oh, would you look at the time. Class is about to start. Well, I'll be seeing you." With a perky grin and a small wave, he turned away and walked towards the door. Janice lingered by her desk until he closed the door behind him, at which point she sighed and leaned onto the piece of furniture. She had never realized before how much needlessly perky people annoyed her; maybe it was due to the fact that she was now a criminal, but optimism was no longer a positive trait in her eyes. The possibility that the reason she could no longer stand to be around optimistic people was because Riddler was about as far from optimistic as you could get crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed it; Riddler's crippling pessimism was just as annoying to her, or at the very least, that was what she kept telling herself. To be honest, she wasn't exactly sure; it used to bother her endlessly, but she had almost gotten used to it by now.

Of course, she didn't exactly have time to sit around and think about that at the moment; as the morning bell rang, her first class of the day started trickling in, and her mind instantly kicked into 'teacher' mode.

But even as she sat at her desk and patiently answered questions, as they worked on their preordained assignment, the thought remained implanted in the far reaches of her brain. Was she really getting so used to being around Riddler that she was getting annoyed by people who weren't like him? Was his snarky and pessimistic attitude really starting to grow on her?

She hoped not. She was confused enough already. Things were easier to deal with when Riddler still, at least, annoyed her.

"Why are we in the computer lab?"

Janice looked up from the computer she had sat herself at to see Barbara standing there. She gave her her most sincere fake smile.

"Well...I thought it would be a nice break from the work we've been doing lately." she lied, laying her arm lazily across the back of the chair. "Why? Not a fan of computers?" she asked, trying to remain casual.

"No, I was just...wondering." she said, looking around. "You're using a computer, too? Why?" she asked.

"If you're going to have a computer break, don't I deserve one, too?" she asked in response.

"Yeah, I guess." she replied. "You, uh...like computers, do you?" she asked. Janice drummed her fingers against the keyboard absentmindedly.

"Who doesn't?" she asked. "Besides the Amish." Barbara shrugged.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose." she said. "So, um, I'm just gonna...go over there." She walked away towards one of the open computers, every so often glancing back at Janice, who pretended not to notice.

Barbara's interest worried Janice, but she tried to push the worry to the back of her mind. After all, she had something she had to be doing, and Barbara's unsureness told her that she had played her part well. Using the reflective nature of the computer screen to ensure that nobody was watching, she logged onto the computer using her predecessors network account (the man was so careless, really, he should have known better than to leave his username and password just sitting in his double-bolted desk drawer). As soon as the ridiculously slow connection, no doubt the fault of how many students were on at the same time, logged her on, she lead the mouse down to the toolbar and located the network connection icon, at which point she right clicked and selected "Check Network Connections". It brought up a small window containing the various available networks, and she selected the only one available, thus bringing up the network connection information.

No encryption...that's a good sign. She thought. Let's see how you like foreign hardware. She produced a flash drive from her pocket, encoded with a home brewed virus; nothing like the program Riddler had made, but definitely enough to ensure that the network was accessible. She plugged it into the USB port at the front of the computer and immediately a small message popped up saying that the device was ready to use. She opened the folder and started up the application containing the virus. Logged onto a teacher's account, it took nothing more than re-entering her password to start the program, and immediately a loading bar popped up and quickly filled. As soon as it reached the end, her screen and the screen of everyone else in the room went green for a few seconds before returning to normal. Feeling content with the results of her test, she discreetly reached down and pulled out the flash drive, hiding it up her sleeve so that nobody would notice it. Immediately after she stood up, tuning out the 20-or-so voices asking what had just happened.

"I'm just gonna step out for a second." she said. "To check and see if there's anything wrong with the school's mainframe. Just...behave for a little while, OK?" The students nodded as she slipped out into the hallway and walked in the direction of the main office (unknown to them, she slipped into the next side hallway she found and out one of the side exits).

Barbara watched all of this with interest. It probably wouldn't have captured her attention as much if the screen hadn't turned green...and it could just be a coincidence. Or Janice could have had nothing to do with it at all. But she was almost certain she was correct.

"Janice Michaels" was Question Mark.

Janice made sure the heavy door was closed behind her, and that there were no stray teachers having sneaked out for a quick smoke break in the middle of class, before reaching into her purse and pulling out her new (coincidentally green; it had been the last color left in the store, curse her horrible luck) cell phone. Hitting speed dial, her house phone only rang for half of a ring before Riddler picked up.

"Did you figure out if it will work?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Yeah, it'll work." she replied. "There are almost no security features in place; as long as you have a teacher's administrative account, it's fully open." The smile that crept onto Riddler's face was practically audible, nearly drowning out the dull clanking she heard in the background, which sounded almost like pots and pans (she presumed he was cooking something). "So we move in tonight?" she asked.

"Of course." he replied. There was a slight pause, in which Janice didn't speak, because she could tell that Riddler was in the process of trying to think of something to say. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. "Are you...sure you want to do this?" he asked. The question took her by understandable surprise.

"What do you mean? Of course I do." she replied. "Do you honestly think I'd back out now?"

"Well, no, but...I didn't think you'd want to put your teaching job in jeopardy. And I know you were bothered by one of your students becoming curious. I just thought that you might want to sit this one out, that's all." he replied, sounding as though he were expecting her to be angry. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, I'm not bailing on this. As much as I don't always like it, we're partners. I'm not going to duck out of this now." she replied. "And besides, what's one job more or less? I'm not even too fond of this one, anyways." she said with a laugh.

"If you're sure." Riddler replied. "When do you think you'll be getting home?" he asked. Janice raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"About 4 o'clock, as usual." she replied. "Why?" she asked.

"No particular reason." he replied. "Just...want to make sure I put all of the time it takes you to get ready into account for the heist."

"One, it takes you longer to get ready than it takes me, thanks." she said. "And two, either way, I have until like. 1 in the morning. What does it matter?" she asked.

"It doesn't, really, I was simply curious." he replied. "Really, why do you always have to question me?"

"Because everything you say is questionable." she replied. "Anyways, I'd better get going. I left my class just sitting around, and if another teacher finds them, I'll be in deep shit. See you at 4."

"Ah—yes, see you then." he said, before hanging up. Janice quickly followed suit, tucking the phone away inside her purse once again. She slipped back into the school and quickly made her way back to her class, who were all chatting, but at least weren't causing any trouble.

"OK, looks like everything's perfectly fine." she said. "You guys can go back to...whatever it is you were doing." Everyone turned to look at her for a moment, then went back to chatting. Janice retreated to her seat and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and trying to occupy herself with running through her mental map of the school, figuring out possible entrance and escape routes, rather than thinking about Riddler's odd behavior.

"Barbara, what're you doing?"

She turned in the direction from which she heard the annoying, high-pitched voice of one of her female students, catching Barbara quickly turning her head out of the corner of her eye. She narrowed her eyes; she was being too suspicious for Janice's liking. She couldn't afford to have anyone snooping around, much less the daughter of the commissioner of police. But there was really no time to be worrying about it; the clock's hands were quickly reaching for the end of the school day, and although she wasn't going to readily admit it, she was eager to see why, exactly, Riddler was acting so strangely.

"So, uh...is there any homework?" Barbara asked, clearly trying to cover for her noticed curiosity. Janice looked over at her.

"Nope." she replied. "It's not like we actually did anything today." she pointed out.

"Uh...yeah. Right." she said, chuckling embarrassedly. Janice gave her a sideways glance (mostly making sure she wasn't watching her too intently), before turning her attention back to the clock. Almost as soon as she turned her head, the bell rang shrilly, announcing the end of the school day. Nearly as eager to be gone as her students, she quickly logged out of her predecessors account, hoisted her bag over her shoulder, and quickly walked towards the exit of the building before anyone could ask her anything. Not only did she want to catch the 3:40 bus, rather than have to wait for half an hour to catch the next one, but questions were the last thing she wanted to deal with when she had so many of her own.

The bus ride was spent primarily in thought, her mind still preoccupied with figuring out why, exactly, Riddler had asked her when she would be getting home. After all, normally he didn't care about her getting home at all—half the time not even acknowledging her—never mind her getting home promptly. As was the case these days, she barely even noticed when the bus reached her stop, and moved almost automatically as she made her way down the block and through the building to her apartment.

As soon as she opened the door, a strong, delightful scent assaulted her olfactory senses, taking her by surprise for a moment. She carefully closed the door, trying not to make too much noise, depositing her purse on the small table in the front hall as she always did. She quietly approached the kitchen, and peered into it from around the corner, and was surprised by what she saw.

Riddler was busy cooking, which in itself wouldn't have been so weird, but combining the fact that he had been so interested in when she would be getting home with the fact that, if the already prepared food and set plates were any indication, he seemed to be cooking for two, it nearly bowled her over. No longer bothering with secrecy, she leaned against the side of the door frame, humming in interest.

"So, is this why you wanted to know when I was getting home? Impressive." she said, nodding. Riddler, startled by her speaking, quickly whirled around, nearly forgetting he was handling food, but quickly caught himself.

"Janice, you're home already?" he said, hiding the food with his body as best as he could without looking awkward, which he failed at.

"Uh, yeah. It's 4 o'clock, just when I said I would be home." she replied, placing her hands on her hips, using her shoulder to balance herself against the door frame. She nodded towards the food. "What're you making?" she asked.

"Er—vegetable lasagna and tomato risotto." he replied. "Since you can't cook, I figured a nice, home cooked meal would be good thanks for helping me." She shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess that'll work." she said. "Is it almost ready?" Riddler chuckled.

"You're rather impatient." he said.

"Screw being patient, I'm hungry." she replied. "You try dealing with teenagers all day, without lunch because I was too busy making plans to help a certain someone, and see if you aren't starving."

"Oh, you poor thing." Riddler said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure it must be so hard for you to go to work every day and watch a bunch of annoying adolescents."

"It's a hell of a lot harder than sitting on your ass with your nose buried in a laptop all day." she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Oh, and harder than living on the run as a fugitive, not knowing when you'll have a roof over your head or something to eat, right?" he asked, placing the food on the plates he had sitting off to the side.

"You seemed to do pretty well with worming your way under my roof and eating all of my food." she said, approaching the counter and taking her plate and digging utensils out of the drawer.

"Only because someone was all too eager to trade those things away for the chance to be my partner." he reminded her as they made their way to the table and sat down. Janice glared at him, picking up her fork and digging into her lasagna. She was about to make a snappy retort, but decided instead to first take a bite of her food, and was suddenly rendered speechless. "What, no witty comeback? I'm shocked." Riddler said, a triumphant grin on his face.

"...you're damn lucky I'm too busy being astounded by how good this food is to punch you in the face for that stupid grin." she said, taking another bite of her lasagna.

"Wow, no witty retort and a compliment? It must be my lucky day." he said smugly, taking a bite of his own food.

"Don't let it go to your head." she said. "Being a good cook doesn't mean I'm not going to pick on you for a hundred other things." They ate in silence for a few minutes before Janice's curiosity got the better of her. "So, why?" she asked. He looked up from his own food.

"Why what?" he asked in response.

"Why did you bother cooking for me?" she asked. "I was under the impression that you'd rather wash your eyes out with acid than do anything nice for me. Could it be that you're actually growing to, dare I say it, like me?"

"Please, don't flatter yourself." he said. "I just did it to thank you for taking care of me. And besides, cooking twice as much takes no real extra effort, and you're the one paying for all of the ingredients." he reminded her. "Did you figure out if the school's network is accessible?" he asked. She nodded.

"There's almost no security in place. We should have no problem." she replied. He gave a small smile.

"Good." he said. "Then we strike tonight."

"You sure you're feeling up to a full out job?" she asked. "I mean, I know it's been a few days, but you were hurt pretty bad." she pointed out.

"Why are you so concerned about my health?" he asked.

"It must be the doctor in me." she replied.

"I was wondering about that. You mentioned having a medical degree, and the jobs I know you to have had include a psychologist and a teacher. Is there anything you're not qualified to do?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Not a lot, to be honest. I originally went to school to become a doctor, and I did pretty well at that for a time, until..." she trailed off, looking embarrassed. "Well, to tell the truth, until my temper got the better of me. I did a few other things medical related until I decided that it was apparent that the medical world wasn't for me, so I went back to school and got a teaching degree. Repeat process about 5 times, and you've got me now."

"How could you have possibly gotten your degree in so many things so quickly?" he asked. "I know for sure you're not possibly old enough to have gone through that many courses."

"I have a photographic memory," she reminded him. "and so I took almost fully automated courses that pretty much went at whatever speed you did. Let me get all of my degree's in record time."

"I've never heard of such a thing." Riddler said. Janice shrugged.

"The university I went to may be the only one that offered it. It wasn't exactly a...normal school." she replied. "It's the kind of place that gets labeled 'alternative' because nobody knows what else to call it." Riddler nodded in understanding, and nothing else was asked.

As soon as their food had disappeared from their plates, plans started being formed, reliant on Janice's intimate knowledge of the layout of the school. The final plan was a fairly simple one; enter through the maintenance door, the one used by the janitors, which they often forgot to set the alarm for after they left for the night, make their way to the computer lab, upload the virus, and get out of there before anyone even know what was going on.

Part 1 was simple enough; with the aid of a car mysteriously left there for their use ("It's simpler than having to steal one ourselves." Riddler had said, when she had expressed understandable confusion when he produced the keys), getting to the school was no problem, and getting into the school itself was even easier, due to the maintenance door not even being locked. She assumed they didn't think anyone would really be interested in breaking in, what with the low levels of delinquency in the school and the low value of essentially everything located within.

Getting into the computer lab was marginally harder, although still not difficult by any stretch of the imagination, with the door being locked. Riddler's staff quickly took care of that, however, and soon he was seated in front of one of the monitors, the device plugged in and operational, with him typing away at a speed she could barely even comprehend.

"So how long will it take, do you think?" she asked.

"At least 10 minutes, with the speed of this ancient beast of a computer." he replied. "Why? Are you worried about getting caught?" he asked mockingly. Janice rolled her eyes behind her mask, but couldn't stop herself from smiling just slightly.

"One of us has to be." she replied. Riddler was about to say something else when he whipped his head around, then turned back to her and put a finger to his lips. She tensed and mouthed, 'What is it?'

'I heard something.' he mouthed in reply.

'Are you sure?' she asked. He nodded. 'I'll go check it out.' she mouthed, finishing their silent conversation as she slipped out of the room and into the halls, listening very intently for whatever it was that Riddler had heard. She made it all the way to the gymnasium without hearing anything, and was about to give up and go back to Riddler when she sensed something fairly large drop behind her. She whirled around just in time to deflect a fist aimed at her head, clearly intent on knocking her out, with the side of her arm, wincing. In the darkness she couldn't quite make out the face of her would-be attacker, but from the height and form she could figure it out easily enough. "Batgirl. I should've known. Seems like you turn up everywhere." she growled, blocking a roundhouse kick and replying with one of her own, also easily blocked.

"Save it, Question Mark. You're not fooling anyone anymore." she said. Janice narrowed her eyes.

"What're you talking about?" she asked.

"I know who you are, Janice Michaels."

Janice froze, which resulted in her very nearly getting hit again, but her reflexes were such that she managed to block it even while distracted.

"How did you..." She gasped in realization, ducking out of the way of another strike. "Aw, goddamnit, I should've known." she hissed. "You're Barbara Gordon." Her realization took Batgirl by surprise for long enough that she was able to hit her, knocking her off balance.

"How did you...?" Batgirl, or rather Barbara Gordon, asked.

"Oh, please. 1, now that I look at you, you look exactly like her," she said, easily dodging a badly thrown punch and replying with a roundhouse kick, which Barbara ducked under quite easily. "2, we didn't set off an alarm, so the only way you would've been able to figure out where we were would be if you'd already suspected it, and why would you, unless you'd been there to see me screwing around with the computers, and 3, no normal person, not even a commissioner's daughter would have any reason to suspect me!" She finished her explanation by dropping to the ground and doing a sweep, knocking Barbara off of her feet. She quickly regained herself, however, but quick as she was, Janice had already taken off running by the time she was on her feet.

"Hey, why're you running? You can't tell me you're honestly afraid to fight me!" she yelled, chasing after her.

"Why would I ever be afraid of fighting you?" Janice asked. "But I know how you guys work! If you're here fighting me, that means the other annoyances are here too!" And she also knew that if the other two were there and not attacking her, it meant they were going after Riddler.

She was so preoccupied with trying to get to Riddler that, when something grabbed her ankle, she was caught completely off guard, sending her sprawling to the ground. Before she could even really react, Barbara stepped on her back, keeping her pinned, and produced a pair of handcuffs.

"You're done now, Janice. You and Riddler have gotten away too many times already." Barbara said, cuffing her wrists. Janice scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, don't you sound all high and mighty. Nobody's intimidated by you, kid; you're just a little bit of added trouble to deal with." she pointed out. Barbara growled, but before she could say anything, they were interrupted by a loud crash coming from the computer lab.

Barbara's momentary distraction gave Janice the chance to buck upwards, the movement knocking the teenager flat onto her back. With her hands still cuffed behind her, she rushed towards the computer lab, pausing only to step over her own hands so that they were now in front of her.

As was expected, she was the first to reach the computer lab, only to find Riddler fighting Batman and Robin, like she had presumed. Her entry went unnoticed for only a split second before Robin noticed her approaching and swung at her, which she blocked with the handcuffs, using them to twist his staff out of his grip and kicking him in the chest as soon as it was. This sent him stumbling into Batman, who's momentary surprise allowed Riddler to push him back, sandwiching the two heroes between himself and Janice. Things seemed to be going in their favor until Batgirl made her return appearance, catching Janice in the back.

All of this happened within the space of about a minute, giving the two villains just enough time to formulate a plan of escape. Nodding at each other quickly, Janice turned around and grabbed Barbara, throwing her at her teammates, while Riddler grabbed the device and bolted for the door. Janice swiftly followed, and before the Bat's could recover themselves, they were gone.

"Well...that could have gone better."

Janice massaged her wrists, just now freed from the handcuffs by the lock picking device in the end of Riddler's staff, and frowned. Riddler noticed her sullen expression quite quickly.

They were back, now, in her apartment, Riddler sitting on the couch with the device sitting on the coffee table in front of him, Janice pacing the length of the room. Riddler felt disheartened by the defeat, but it was clear that Janice was the more upset of the two of them.

Leaning back against the soft back cushions of the couch, Riddler adjusted his too-large-for-him t-shirt, watching Janice walk back and forth across the room.

"Why are you so upset? So we failed. So what. We'll just try again." he said. Janice whirled around, clearly angry.

"Is that what you think this is about? Us failing to upload your stupid virus? You're clearly mistaking me for someone who cares." she hissed. Riddler narrowed his eyes.

"What, then? What is upsetting you?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" she asked in response.

"I..." He trailed off, looking away. "I don't know, OK. I just do." he replied. "Do you really hate me so much that you can't tell me why you're upset?" he asked. Janice sighed.

"No, it's not that, it's just..." She sighed, massaging her temples. "They know who I am." she said. Riddler's eyes went slightly wider, just enough to be noticable.

"How did they figure it out?" he asked.

"Barbara Gordon, the commissioner's daughter and my student, is Batgirl." she replied. "She got suspicious of me examining the school's computers, and decided to investigate. Turns out that us going to the school tonight was exactly the evidence she needed." She sighed, covering her eyes with one hand. Riddler couldn't think of what to say for a moment, and eventually sighed as well.

"Yes, well. I suppose it was inevitable." he said. "They figure out all of our identities, at one time or another."

Janice snapped.

"I just had the loss of my freedom essentially guaranteed, and all you can say is 'it was inevitable'? Wow, it's really no wonder you turned into sociopath." she hissed. "Do you have even an ounce of compassion in you?" she asked. Riddler rose to his feet.

"Of course I do. I just think that you're overreacting. You knew of the consequences when you decided to do this." he said. "It's a pity, really, and if there was any way I could help you change the fact, then believe me, I would. But what's done is done." She turned away from him.

"If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened." she growled. The comment made Riddler's stomach turn, because as much as he wanted to argue the opposite, he knew it was true.

"Janice, I..." He trailed off, approaching her. He put a hand on her shoulder, which she just slapped away.

"Just leave me alone, Edward." she hissed. He was a bit taken aback by the use of his first name, especially with such venom behind it. "You clearly don't care at all, so don't pretend that you do." Riddler grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around, which she responded to by grabbing his wrist and twisting it, threatening to break it. "Let me go, Edward, or you'll seriously regret it." she said.

"You're wrong." he said. "I do care. If I didn't, why would I even bother trying to help you?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes.

"Prove it." she hissed.

Riddler took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Instantly, Janice froze in shock, unable to comprehend what was going on. When she regained herself, she forcibly pushed Riddler away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I'll let you know when I have an answer." Riddler replied, pinching the ridge of his nose. "I just sort of did and omitted the thinking part."

"But why would you even consider doing that in the first place?" she asked. Riddler froze up.

"I..." He brushed his hair out of his eyes, thinking very carefully about what to say next. "I did it because you told me to prove that I care, and well...I thought that would prove how much I care." he explained. His exceptionally pale face had taken on a reddish hue, Janice following suit after she heard his explanation.

"So...what you're saying is...you kissed me because you..." She trailed off, clearly hesitant to finish her sentence.

"Because I...love you." he finished. There was a minute or so of awkward silence before Janice took a step towards him, an indescribable look on her face. For a moment, Riddler was afraid she was going to hit him.

Instead, she just grabbed his face and kissed him.