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"It's ridiculous, why would she turn down an offer like that? Wouldn't it solve her family's main concern by marrying up? The connections, the estate, thirteen thousand a year. Rather then no end of rue and the looming threat of poverty."
"Ten thousand. And that's not what happens, you know. Maybe Elizabeth Bennett just wasn't as shallow as you." Kit shrugged at Edward's cold recount of her favourite book. Despite her constant pestering, there was no getting Ed to give up anything about the Scarecrow.
He scoffed at her retort.
"I'm just saying the pros outweighs the cons."
How strange it was that they were here; debating Pride and Prejudice, in Edward's stunning house on the edge of town. A different one to the dimly light old house that he'd had Zsasz bring her to days ago. It was weird but it was happening. And she had to hand it to him, the place was beautiful. It was really different to see Nygma looking so at ease. Sitting on a sofa, nose in a book, without his usual blazer. He almost seemed relaxed, if not for the fact he kept glancing over at Kit, who was also trying to read.
"So when are you gonna tell me about The Scarecrow then?" Kit looked up from her book.
"Think, Katherine. Perhaps about the author of that nonsense book you like so much." His jibe was petty and spoken in a mumble, like he was bitter about something.
Kit lowered her own book, one she had picked from Edward's collection, in a huff. She gave him that look, the one that told him to stop talking and never start again. But they both knew Ed Nygma liked the sound of his own voice far too much for that.
"You know, people who tear down other's enjoyment are the worst kind of people." She scolded.
The Riddler frowned at her. Surely the worst kind of person were the criminals she dealt with day in, day out. People that robbed, harmed, conned, and killed. People like him. That wasn't to say that he was the worst of the worst, but he certainly wasn't the best. Her unintentional optimism was somewhat annoying. Despite this, he was glad to see her looking rested after some well needed sleep. It turned out, Katherine slept quite deeply. Even sat upright in that very armchair, fully clothed and still wearing her boots.
He wasn't surprised when she had turned down sleeping in a room. There were plenty in the house but she didn't trust him not to lock the door and eat the key. But the boots. The boots were like a sharp flick in the eye. She was ready to run at any given moment. Kit could be on her feet and out the door faster than he could say, 'Are you going somewhere?' But the thought of her being so willing to leave shouldn't shock him.
"I'm only showing an interest. Fine, if not Austen, help me understand why this Darcy character is so admirable. Other than his thirteen thousand pounds a year."
"Where have you gotten thirteen from? It's ten thousand."
"Hm." He hummed, watching as Kit sighed at him and rolled her eyes, over-exaggerating as she did so, just to prove a point.
Kit knew better than to walk into his trap. She knew he was going to counter whatever qualities she listed to pieces because that was what Edward did best. His own sense of self-righteousness made sure he wouldn't allow 'good deeds' or 'applying corrections' to be praised as admirable traits.
"He's clever." She chose to say, instead. Looking back down at the book she was holding, finding her page and sentence. She said it because he couldn't argue with that. It was a desirable trait and he had to agree. This way he'd be stumped.
"So she likes him because he's clever?" But that didn't mean he'd stop talking.
"Sure. Because he's loyal. And he cares. Because there's something endearing in a person listening to what you say and using it to better themselves. Especially men." Kit didn't care much to see his reaction at this time.
Ed listened. Of course he listened! Okay, she'd got him there. She intended for him to project. He looked at Kit, hoping she'd meet his eye yet knowing that she likely wouldn't. He'd noticed how she often avoided direct eye contact with him when she wasn't speaking.
"But she hated him at first-"
"He didn't like her either." She cut him off, without looking up from the book. Kit didn't want to engage in idle chit chat, she wanted information that was promised to her.
"But he didn't hate her. He couldn't."
Kit fought to keep her head down, pretending to not understand or just not pick up on the meaning. But he knew that she had picked up on it though and that was clear from the way she stopped turning the page every 86-90 seconds. Not that he'd been timing her or anything, it was just an observation...
"It's just a book. Lots of people don't like Jane Austen. Hey, I know, let's talk about someone even less people like; oh, I don't know? Maybe the Scarecrow?" She decided this was an appropriate resolve. Kit didn't care for changing his mind on a book, but she did care about getting what she came here for. But that was proving to be difficult.
"I think Pride and Prejudice is the wrong title. Maybe Austen ought to have named it something more fitting like Rue and Ruin." He lamented, glancing up at Kit.
"Rue. That's twice now you've used that word in one conversation. Running out of material again?" He eyebrows raised in mock innocence at her taunting. She scolded him for it but returned the favour.
"Me? Never." He sounded so unfazed by the remark that Kit was almost alarmed. It should have bothered him, or triggered some sort of response. Patience often made Edward feel like he had the higher ground, but he wasn't known for it. He wasn't a patient man, he was demanding, which was never ever a good thing in Kit's few experiences with him. In fact, his whole demeanour was arrogant. Of course, that only served to annoy the Detective.
Kit decided to angle the conversation to... well, the very reason she was there.
"I'm getting bored of this now, Edward. You promised me a location in return for being here. Pay up." She had closed the book and didn't show any sign of opening it again. When he made no effort to answer her and only looked back down at his distraction, Kit stood up from the armchair and glared down at him. She was losing her temper. Frustration was a funny thing when it came from composed people. Whatever small gesture or word had set her off had been unintentional on Edward's part but there was no telling Kit that. "I'm leaving right now if you don't-"
"What year was Pride and Prejudice published again? 18...10?"
"Thirteen."
"Ah yes, thirteen." He spoke calmly, still looking down at his book that Kit was strongly considering hitting him upside the head with.
What was he doing? Repeating things? And for what? Why the obsession on that story? Why the fixation on these words and numbers? What was this? Apart from incredibly annoying. His calm demeanour meant something too.
"Thirteen. You keep saying that... What is that? Why are you repeating yourself?" She asked, rather lamely.
"Thirteen? Oh, It's a number. A baker's dozen. Often considered to be unlucky but I've never been very superstitious." He answered her, still looking down but you could hear the smirk he was wearing through his words. They just dripped with arrogance.
"You're playing a game, aren't you?"
"Of course I am, Katherine."
It was like that day on the rooftop all over again. When he planted that bomb in order to test her. Well, he was testing her again. Through literature. He did it with Ulysses and now he was doing it with a book she cherished. Something he knew that she liked. Kit didn't want to associate her favourite story with him. She didn't want to let it be tarnished by this man. And yet, she had to.
Pride and Prejudice. 1813. Rue. Thirteen. The number has to be significant, he's mentioned it multiple times, same with Rue. Rue: to bitterly regret something one has done or allowed to happen, and wish it undone. Or a genus of strongly scented evergreen subshrubs in the family; Rutaceae. Or maybe it wasn't even English. 'Rue' translates to Street in French. That was possible, coming from the man that named his club Dans La Vie. So thirteen and Street. The significance of Pride and Prejudice... 'Perhaps about the author of that nonsense book you admire so much'. Austen. 13. Street. Oh, you bastard.
"Austyn Street. 13 Austyn Street. That's in The Narrows."
"There she is." He finally looked up at her.
Austyn street was a broken part of the Narrows that hadn't been inhabited in years. There was a huge sting operation that Bullock had led. Biggest drugs lab he'd seen, stretched under 5-7 houses on that street. There was an entire kingdom of drug production under there. The whole road was closed off but demolition in Gotham takes years. Building had been waiting decades to taste the wrecking ball.
"It's not even the same spelling." She almost whined, running a hand over her face and then checking his reaction.
"Don't pout. It's pronounced the same way, close enough." Ed scolded her dismissal of his riddle. They watched each other's frustration with the other and found it almost laughable.
"I have to call Jim."
"Sure, give the bull directions to the china shop." He stood up and faced the shorter and much less amused Detective.
It got Kit thinking. Jim ought to know about this as he was her Commissioner but the Scarecrow wasn't even on his radar. He didn't know that Crane was even in Gotham anymore. Not knowing might not hurt him? In fact, all of the GCPD and officials assumed he had either kicked the bucket or left the city after the dark days. If Kit made this arrest, she would look incredible. But she hadn't ever cared for personal glory before, why did she give a damn now?
"Odd riddle." She noted rather hesitantly, instead of asking about her solo mission that he'd planned her to go on.
"More of a puzzle really. Honestly, I thought you'd get it sooner."
"Please, it was the most thrown together, lack lustre and, quite frankly, lazy-" She began wasting her breath on her own defence as she marched away from The Riddler. Kit moved so fast that the boots theory was proven. She could've left the room at anytime, with those still on her feet. And she did.
Ed intercepted before the overworked cop ripped his head off with what would likely be another clever insult. He blocked Katherine's angry path with his body and raised his hands a little as if trying to calm down a mad bull.
Kit gave his pose a slightly offended glance but stopped talking anyway.
"It was for you." He sounded almost as exhausted as her. Come to think of it, Ed hadn't slept himself since Arkham. Of course, he spent 15 hours practically out of his body as his mind cooked up the perfect escape plan. A prison guard had checked his pulse at one time, only to be swatted away by a very alive and irritated Ed. This state he fell into was often as revitalising as a full night's sleep. Then the other him took over for a while. Whilst Katherine got a couple of sleep in the chair, he made sure she wouldn't wake up and bolt. Maybe he just didn't necessarily feel tired anymore, he'd gone longer without rest. But Edward hadn't physically slept in nearly two days now.
"What?"
"You have a cat." He spluttered out, pathetically. Maybe he didn't sound pathetic but only being able to get out those four stupid words made him feel as much.
"I do." Kit raised her eyebrows and nodded. Has he finally lost it completely?
"Pemberley. That's a place, yes? A house? In the book. You like that book," What were either of them getting out of him just saying things he knew about her? More specifically about her pet. The fact he kne her cat's name was weird but slightly more topical than the last comment. This time, Kit frowned. The stream of thoughts going through Edward's head were not making there ways out of his mouth. She was utterly confused before but now she felt like she'd never heard a coherent sentence in her life. "I saw an opportunity, with the name. The riddle was for you. Why else would I write a riddle about a book that I think sucks? I don't care for that story one bit, Katherine. I know you speak at least a little french so I... It wasn't supposed to be amazing, I don't know enough about it to create anything too impressive but I just-"
"What's your point?" She herself almost winced at how cruel she sounded.
"I-" He stuttered. There wasn't a point. There wasn't any explanation as to why he had created the riddle. Now he explained it as if it were a gift or message. It was just something he did and now felt the need for approval on; her approval. "-There isn't a point. It was just- It was supposed to- Nevermind. Go on, off you go. Tell Jim to watch himself, Crane probably has it out for him. Almost everyone does."
He looked defeated.
And all at once Kit felt bad and brave. Bad for causing this reaction in someone, even someone like him. He was still someone who had been such scolded for every interest or talent.
"Oh no, you don't. There's something you aren't telling me about Crane. You could be sending me into a trap, for all I know. That means you're my collateral." She stepped forward and prodded Ed in the chest as he stared own at the Detective, frowning.
"Really?" Edward scoffed.
"Really." She nodded, staring unblinking at his incredulous gaze.
He took a second to think of something to say. Something that wouldn't make her change her mind about taking her with him. Sure, she made it no secret that she found him unbearable, but she understood him a little more now. Maybe she'd be more tolerant. Another side of him was petrified of the thought of her meeting Crane. Hell, he was petrified of seeing Crane. The guy was whacko and their last interaction had been less than ideal.
"You- You really dont know what you're getting yourself into. Crane is something else. Think on it. You need to sleep properly first." He was mentally singing his own praises. God, he just played it so cool.
She rolled her eyes and sighed but then gave a 'fair point' nod.
"Why'd you bring him up then?"
"I... don't know. It was honestly kinda dumb." He confessed, taking a moment to check her reaction.
Kit gave him a bit of credit. It seemed like a very humbling situation for Edward, when he admitted he was wrong or uncertain. He'd lowered himself to tell her such a thing, that much was sure to Kit. She could throw him a bone, just this once.
"Alright, fine. Looks like you're taking me to the Narrows tomorrow then, because I won't change my mind." Kit pointed an accusing finger at him.
Seeing her reaction was telling. So he didn't have to be so intense around Katherine. In fact, it worked in his favour when he wasn't. She conceded when he admitted that he may have been wrong and didn't take it as an attack or a way to bend her to his will. Maybe he'd ought to try talking to Katherine like she wasn't his biggest adversary. Tomorrow was going to be the trial period. He couldn't argue it or taken any longer to answer, this was too good of an offer.
"Great. Make yourself at home." With that he turned around and started walking away from her, saying no more. She took that as a sign that she was going to have to stay here for the night, but that wasn't what confused her. It was that he walked away.
She'd be lying if Kit said that didn't baffle her.
"So you agree, you'll help me arrest Jonathan Crane?" She called after him, half expecting to be told 'sike' and left in the dust. But he just gave her a smug expression and paused.
Edward turned back around, walking backwards now as he spoke to her still. He didn't seem like himself, his demeanour was much more like that of the other version of him she had met a few hours ago. Maybe this was what he meant when he said they had tried to be one entity. Sometimes he could be an odd mix between the two of them.
"Honestly, Kate, you're unbelievable sometimes. I write you a riddle about your favourite book and you're making me walk you into an old meth lab? Fine. But this is not my idea of a second date."
Kate.
He had been joking. It was just a joke. He was joking. She saved herself from a smile that threatened to form on her face. He sounded like him. Which was an almost ridiculous thing to say to think, because he was him. But meeting the person she had read about in those files had been strange. They made sense, almost. He was a split personality, and this one, the good one, had been corrupted by an image of himself that just seemed to know what to do. Even if it was a life of crime, it was a very successful one, and that had been down to him. He was quick, witty, and had an element of assertiveness and charm that this one hadn't mastered. But just them, in some way, it reminded her that he was still that person. Whether that was a good thing of a bad thing, time would only tell.