Title: The Mysteries of Q

Rating: T

Warning/Notes:

I have never written a Batman fanfiction. Although, I thought I will give it a shot especially since I've gained a plot idea. But whether I can write it is another thing. I would appreciate any comments and criticism you have. Please do tell me if I have the Riddler's character down or not. I'm not sure if I'm writing his personality accurately. I'm not sure what else I have to say. It will probably come up later though. Thank you and enjoy reading hopefully.

-Wisia

Chapter One

The Riddler was used to finding himself in strange situations. There was hardly a moment where he did not find himself in a strange situation. On the contrary, if nothing strange happened, he was sure that strange thing would happen. But, he supposed it depended on one's definition of strange. And his definition of strange was certainly milder than one would think to use. His definition of strange meant being chased by bats, always changing lairs every so often and breaking out of Arkham when he could feasibly do so. The Riddler's definition of strange was, however, quite apt for an infamous rogue of Gotham City.

Therefore when the Riddler came to, after a night of robbery and running from the Batman, in an unknown room it was not strange at all. He only knew that where ever he was, he was safe for an undetermined amount of time. The Riddler felt he could assume that accurately because his shoulder was bandaged from a nasty wound he had received and his head didn't quite hurt so much as it should, given the concussion he had probably gotten in the tussle. The only thing that puzzled him, which he really would like to solve, was how he ended up in this place all fixed up.

He was sure it wasn't any of his hench girls. In fact, his last Query was incarcerated not too long ago and, unfortunately and thankfully, quite permanently. He hadn't got around to hiring another which explained the horrible condition he found himself in last night. What was he thinking when he went alone? He had barely made it past several blocks before collapsing. Batman did pack a rather powerful punch after all. The Riddler felt quite lucky that someone, whoever he was, had found him before the Batman did. Although, it really pained him to know that someone had found him in that humiliating state.

The Riddler decided to see if he could move a little. Getting up with a grunt, he noticed that he was on a very comfortable bed with a dark blue comforter. His green suit, nicely mended and pressed, was sitting on the small table next to his bed. His shoulder didn't feel too bad. Perhaps, he could get out of bed.

"Don't you dare move!"

A rather low but feminine voice called out. A female with short black hair and green eyes glared at him while holding a tray with a bowl of stew. She pursed her lips in aggravation, storming into the room and placed the tray next to his suit. She prodded him in the shoulder.

"Don't touch me! That hurts!"

It really did, and the Riddler didn't really want to find out how much more pain he would experienced if she poked him again. Almost deliberately, she poked him on his uninjured shoulder.

"I just did," she smirked.

"Now, how are you feeling?"

"How do you think I feel?"

The Riddler felt really annoyed. What was the point of patching someone up and then, poking him?

"I guess I'll take that as good then. Now, what do you remember?"

"Why don't you tell me what you know?"

He examined his shoulder. At least it wasn't hard enough of a poke to give him a bruise. One of his ex-hench girls always poked him hard enough to bruise. He really didn't know why he'd hired her in the first place.

"I don't really think you are in a position to question me. Besides, you're the Riddler. You should have the answers."

He glared at her.

"I'll have you know that just because I'm the Riddler, it doesn't mean I'm a mind reader. I can only assume that you found me and, for some unfathomable reason, hid me from the Batman."

"Oh, the Bat was after you? Fancy that."

"I'm a criminal. Of course, the Batman would be after me."

The Riddler wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he landed a savior like this girl he was dealing with.

"I was being sarcastic, but apparently you're too stupid to understand that. The Riddler is smart? Doesn't seem like it."

"That was sarcasm? That is not sarcasm!"

"Of course it is sarcasm. My brand of sarcasm."

He didn't hide his gesture of smacking his head against his hands.

"Anyway, you're in the custody of Myst Terry," Myst grinned.

"Mystery?" The Riddler blinked.

"No, Myst. Myst Terry," Myst said.

He was doomed. The Riddler felt sure of it.