Disclaimer: If I owned the Riddler, I'd give him a hug. But I don't own the Riddler, or anyone else in this story except the very nice doctor, and I'm not even completely sure I own her.

This is for Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, who made me realize that Eddums doesn't just need to get laid, he needs a hug. (But in this story there is no Hush, and for once no one is severely injured! Yay!)

Asylum

Arkham Asylum was no place for a doctor with a nervous disposition. In her first ten minutes there, Allison Chen had been giggled at by the Joker, leered at by Two-Face, swept off her feet by the Mad Hatter, startled by the Scarecrow as she came around a corner…

"I'm terribly sorry about that," Dr. Bartholomew said as they walked down the hall. Allison looked back to see a couple of guards subduing Crane, the Scarecrow, with a little more force than she would have thought necessary. "This sort of thing happens every time we get a new doctor. All the patients have to test him—or her—out, to see just how much they can get away with. Next comes therapy, when they put what they've learned to good use. It happens every time. I'll understand if you'd rather not…"

"Not take the job?" Allison said blankly. "This is my dream. I became a psychiatrist because I've always been fascinated by cases like these. The Riddler, in particular. I've studied him intensively—I think I can really do him some good. There's no way I'm leaving before I at least get a chance to meet him."

Bartholomew smiles.

"Welcome aboard then, Dr. Chen. We'll get you settled as quickly as possible."

--

Edward Nygma, also known as the Riddler, sat sprawled across a lumpy leather chair in the patients' lounge, working on a crossword puzzle and listening with half an ear to his companions' conversation.

"What a lovely child," the Mad Hatter said dreamily.

"Not your usual type, is she, Jervums? Although I guess she's not bad, if you're into sweet and sour," the Joker said with a giggle.

"That is enough, said his father; don't give yourself airs! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!"

Eddie looked up, anticipating the need to duck, but the Joker didn't seem offended. Eddie went back to his puzzle.

"You know, her name is Allison, not Alice," Poison Ivy said, taking her eyes off her nature show for just a moment.

"I heard Professor Crane got in trouble for making her scream," Harley Quinn said from her position in the Joker's lap.

"A few days in solitary. He'll be fine."

"Aw," Harley said. Eddie smirked. That woman had soft spots for all the wrong people.

"All right, you lot, on your feet. Time to go back to your cells." Eddie glanced up to see a few guards in the doorway.

"Hey! You can't cut our rec time short," Harley protested.

"Tell it to your lawyer." The guard grabbed Harley by the arm and jerked her to her feet. Eddie saw the subtle change in the Joker's grin and mentally crossed the guy's name off the "alive" list.

He closed his book and stood up.

"Not you, Nygma. You stay put."

As one, the other inmates turned murderous gazes on Eddie. He cringed.

Oh, what now?

"There's no need to be so rough," said a female voice from the hall. One of the guards answered her with a grumble.

He watched the others file out of the room, feeling just slightly curious about the new doctor, since it seemed he was the only one who hadn't seen her yet.

He arranged himself in an artfully lazy position and went back to his crossword puzzle.

"It's all right. You can leave us. I'll call if I need any help." Her voice was low and rough. She sounded like a smoker, but he didn't smell cigarettes on her when she came near. "How's the puzzle coming?" she asked from behind him.

"Swimmingly, of course." He didn't turn to look at her. "You're in my light."

"Sixty-nine down is 'espresso,'" she said helpfully.

Now he turned to look at her.

Slightly disappointing. She wasn't very pretty, although she did have rather striking features that could have been played up, if she had cared. Joker might have been able to appeal to her vestigial sense of feminine vanity, but Eddie wasn't even talented enough to manipulate a normal woman that way. A look at her shoes told him that she was more sensible than Harley, anyway. She was smiling, friendly, but not likely to be much help in an escape attempt. He couldn't use her, so he decided to ignore her.

"You're not very impressed with me, Mr. Nygma," she said when he turned back to his puzzle. "That's all right. You don't know me yet. I'm very impressed with you. I studied you extensively in college, which is why I've been assigned to you for my trial period here at Arkham. I'm going to enjoy being your personal therapist. You and I are going to get to know each other very well. Flattery."

"What?"

"Thirty-seven across. Flattery."

"You like crossword puzzles, Dr. Chen?"

"I love them. I've always been good at word games."

"Hmm."

Interesting. Maybe the woman wasn't wholly insipid. Sessions with her could be fun, although they certainly wouldn't be any more productive than with any of the other doctors.

--

Eddie lay, sleepless, on the bottom bunk, still contemplating his new doctor. She had stayed with him for the rest of his recreation period, doing crossword puzzles. She was good—no match for him, of course, but still not bad.

Odd, really, that they had assigned the new doctor to just one patient, even one as interesting as him. There had been quite a spate of budget cuts recently, reducing the size of the staff, decreasing the quality of the food, squeezing the less "dangerous" inmates into room together. That part wasn't too bad. The roommate they had assigned him was probably the second most intelligent man in Arkham, and he was certainly quiet enough. If Eddie hadn't known that he was in solitary, he would have sworn Crane was up there on the top bunk with his nose in a book.

Yes, it could have been worse. But it could have been better.

The best day in Arkham was never as good as the worst day outside.