Arkham Asylum: Love in the Strangest Places

And So She Went

(Warnings: M for sexual suggestions, Catwoman/Scarecrow, Nolanverse!Scarecrow, DC!Catwoman, New Earth!Universe)

Arkham Asylum was the last place on Earth she could ever dream of going, even if it was in her worst nightmares.

Ghoulish spires rose to greet the night, and Victorian architecture pronounced the distinctive form of the Asylum, hints of Grecian architecture accenting many of the windows, tiers steadily becoming smaller as the several-story ascended, its silhouette struck against the perpetually gray sky like a foreboding demon anticipating a siege upon the world. Lightning reflected sharply from a pair of tremendously high windows that framed the entrance of the monstrous building itself, that dangerous silhouette becoming even more ominous in the sudden flash of darkness that had blinded the building.

Selina forced herself to pull away from the Asylum's cruel stare, feeling herself nearly balk under its gaze. She glanced surreptitiously around the deathly quiet van, several goons of a much higher pedigree than her lashed together while she she separated by a thin sheet of a screen, barely enough protection against the other psychos sharing the van with her.

This was the weirdest situation ever for her. Detective Alvarez had convinced her to let herself be caught for a pending investigation to gain enough evidence in order for a search warrant to be valid against Arkham Asylum. Apparently, gross negligence had been reported as well as disgustingly slack staff, as he'd parroted to her from his superiors. According to the detective, he suspected that the high-class criminals that often put Gotham in a pickle were escaping with extremely high amounts of leniency, and were as a result endangering innocent Gothamites. Though his superiors were probably bribed into keeping their traps shut, and their noses miles away from Arkham.

That's where she came in.

With her recent collaboration with Alvarez in assisting in the take-down of Dollhouse, he'd decided to grant her impunity to arrest for a short time in exchange for her cooperation in acting as his hound dog, checking out situations and crime hotspots as his eyes and ears (and sometimes claws).

And, well, Selina loved her freedom too much to sacrifice it to the police. While Gwen was anything but happy that her top thief was a detective's lapdog, Selina was able to engage in some conscience-clearing work, which didn't seem like a bad deal. She walked the gray line, and with all the wrong-doing she did for a living, this was a way to balance things out.

"Hey, kitty-cat; I might shag that little pussy of yours later, hmm?" Cavalier insinuated perversely, puckering his lips and making disgusting smacking sounds.

Selina's face brightened. "Really? I thought you'd be too sore to because we all know that I'd shove your rapier up your ass before you could even touch me!" she replied, sarcastically grinning at the man. Drake seemed affronted by that and bit his lip, quailing under the dark laughter emanating from the other prisoners.

"Dumbass," she scoffed under her breath, turning away from the group and resuming staring out the microscopic porthole that in turn provided ample view of the world through the windshield, rain splattering against the glass and allowing for only a distorted view of what would be her new home for the next month or two.

She was perched on the narrow metallic bench that lined both sides of the van, her hands bound in cuffs and knees brought to her chin. Her boyishly short raven hair, previously dampened by the rain upon her arrest, was starting to dry in its usual poofy, spiky clumps, and she was grateful to the rain gods that she'd been gifted a free shower from nature before sent headlong into the wasteland that was Arkham.

Her body donned a male prisoner's garb, the top and pants extremely loose like a five-year-old trying to sport their parents' clothes. The loud orange color didn't even detract from the picturesque view of her ample cleavage she sure was baring for the testosterone-addled world to see. Even though she was only 125 pounds, and stood at five feet and seven inches, she sure as hell was blessed with a great rack. At least, her ego and the men that usually stared at it for prolonged periods of time seemed to think so.

Not that it mattered. Her sex appeal wasn't going to save her, and she didn't want to escape. She was here on a mission, and she stuck things through, usually to the end.

The van slowly lurched to a stop, somewhat skidding due to the road slick with mud. In the early autumn winds, tree branches clicked and thrashed together, clearly audible from within the van, leaves tossed and hurled like fast balls to smack against the windshield. The rain whipped against the vehicle's flanks, and bitter winds railed against them like a woman in hysteric mourning. And Selina sure as hell didn't need a weatherman to tell her that it was as cold as blue balls out there.

The van's doors were wrenched open, slammed wider by the terrific winds. Meager light flooded in, illuminating the craggy faces of the hardened criminals, slightly blinding compared to the pitch black they'd been drowned in for the two-hour long ride here. The musty and sweaty body heat that had warmed them on the journey there was rudely whisked away by an intrusion of the bitterly cold winds, making Selina involuntarily shiver until her body acclimated to the sudden temperature change. Fresh cold air was better then stale, old air that smelled about as pleasing as a hairy dick.

Complacently the male prisoners filed out, some grumbling curses aimed at their captors that were ignored by their stiff faces, which made Selina snicker under her breath at the thought of them actually being constipated. Toilet talk became ridiculously funny when you'd been confined with only your thoughts for entertainment for the whole of two hours.

After they'd been led away in their organized little lines, Selina found that one of them went back to retrieve her. Her mind riddled off a million ways that she could've incapacitated the guy and had easily gotten away, but instead she put on a sullen face and pretended to look as depressed as the weather outside. Though it was so hard to ignore the temptation to crudely comment on the man's bulge. Bananas and whatnot.

"Huh, wonder what finally drove you over the edge enough to come here," the man snidely commented to her, taking an arm.

"Er, I'm a mad kleptomaniac. In fact, it's getting really hard to control the urge to steal your dignity and pantsin' ya in front of your buddies over there," she replied cheekily, nodding in the direction of her captive audience, some stifling snickers through bit lips.

The man quirked a sardonic brow, which only served to coax more from her. "I mean, you could also be a dear and let me go, and in return I'll let you keep your dignity and then some, if you get my drink—er, I mean, drift," she winked at the guard, who only rolled his eyes and tightened his grip around her.

"Alright, you loons, welcome to your new home! Now get your asses in gear and move!" the man barked towards the patients who began shuffling dejectedly away, their spirits seemingly broken, unlike Selina who was still burning like fire, too bouncy and energetic for her own good.

"—and I'm gonna steal those gargoyles, your derpy-looking helmet, the windows, and your virginity!" she prattled off, nervously chattering away about the ridiculous things she'd steal, even though it was her own way of expressing her nervousness, taking a few moments to get them to the reception area where they would all be processed.

"Shut up!" the guard thundered, smacking her over the head, only to miss and strike air as she preemptively ducked.

"I hit a sore spot~" she sang smugly, poking her tongue out at the man, straightening herself but lingering enough so the guards stationed at the doors had a good, hard look at her breasts, her smug smile widening as they gruffly coughed into their hands, trying and failing to hide their blushes.

The man leading her disgustedly snorted, but a blush clearly painted his cheeks. He shoved her inside, she nearly careening into a file of patients waiting their turn to be processed.

"Well, fuck you, too," she grumbled under her breath, nimbly collecting herself, clearly demonstrating the adroitness and nimbleness she was renowned for.

Once inside, she decided to pass the time spent in line by observing the new and startling scenery. The reception area was a wide and jarringly white place, though haunting shadows hugged the corners and encroached along the floor. Tiled floors were cracked and muddy in places, patients waiting to be processed like cattle headed to slaughter, standing rank and file and shuffling as a nasally receptionist crowed "Next!" as each separate line was processed through with industrial efficiency. Cloistered to the side were small offices of miserly looking employees, the bags hanging beneath their eyes grossly accentuated by the cold light from their computer monitors. The ceiling wasn't anything special, obviously, but by the long cracks indenting it and the brown-colored stains marring it, it was enough to make Selina grimace at the obvious lack of any kind of health code. She doubt anything was enforced here.

"Tick-tock, wall-with-clock, annoy the hell out-of-us. Tonight, I'mma fight, with my roommate for any slight. Big boys, with their big ass toys, get ready cuz this badass kitty is gonna make a shit-ton of noise. Woah woh wah-oh~," Selina began singing to herself, bobbing her head to her improvised song. Her voice actually didn't sound half-bad, but it annoyed her fellow patients, dirty looks tossed her way by the agitated inmates. The insane usually weren't very partial to having their thoughts interrupted by a bored, sane person.

"Next," the doctor administering over them announced with finality, gazing at her over the rim of her glasses. Upon closer scrutiny, Selina could see that the woman appeared to be a middle-aged African-American women, though the only indicator of her age was her voice. Frankly, Selina thought the woman was rather pretty, whatnot with her skin like rich mocha and the sexy 'fro. Well, she didn't enjoy bugging the hell out of Gwen by patting her fence's hair for nothing!

"Finally, another pretty face 'sides little old me 'round here!" Selina greeted boisterously, flashing the woman an inviting smile.

Dr. Anne Carver laughed. "Thank you, and I think that I can say the same about you, Miss Kyle, but that's not what you're here for, is it?" the doctor dissuaded the girl's gregariousness gently, focusing instead on a clipboard before her with a hot pic of Selina tacked on top.

"Hm. Selina Kyle, twenty years of age, 125 pounds, five feet, seven inches tall..." Selina zoned out as the woman rattled off the rest of the girl's statistics, puffing air through her bangs in spurts to amuse herself.

"...And it seems that you have had no prior instances to suggest mental instability or disability, and well, your track record was wiped clean a few months ago, but we all know that you're quite the cat burglar," Dr. Carver finished, resting the clipboard on her lap.

The African-American woman heaved a sigh. "I don't quite understand why you're here, to be honest. I thought it might be kleptomania, but you tested negative for any psychiatric disorders that could associate with it, and you're well known to steal only out of necessity. You actually tested negative for anything that could possibly land you in here, Miss Kyle. The only thing that could possibly do so is that you're a criminal, and yet quite an incongruous one who plays for both sides, as I've been made aware."

"Well, um, isn't it better for me to be here before some shit goes down in my head? I mean, it's like treating a disease before it manifests itself to the point where it's advanced in its permeation through the body or mind, right?" Selina tried, twiddling her thumbs together, chains clinking gently together.

"Prognoses are very favorable, especially in a field where they can dynamically change someone, especially in criminals. That is very true, Selina," she amended, taking off her glasses to wipe them clean.

"Listen, doc, I really like you. Whatever's wrong with me, can I kinda, maybe count on you to pick it out? I don't really know myself all that well, especially since I haven't exactly lived the kind of life where you can introspect willy-nilly. I mean, this place is infested with people who are out to skin me, so I can't really count on anyone here to befriend or anything to give me the freedom to find it myself, you know? I'm probably going to be busy keeping myself alive, ya know?" Selina said with a wry smile, swallowing as one of the remaining inmates was pushed into an elevator that would take them to the upper floor, glare fixed hotly on her.

"You see?" she squeaked, the doctor having followed the girl's eyes.

"You're right. Well, you're in good company with me, Miss Kyle," the woman replied reassuringly, the timbre in her voice soothing Selina somewhat.

"There is a god!" she exclaimed, shaking the woman's hand in camaraderie.

Dr. Carver rolled her eyes, patting Selina's shoulder. "Get going, Miss Kyle. I'll be meeting with you tomorrow," the doctor dismissed, smiling one last time before Selina was herded off by another detail of guards.

Someone up there loves me!

The long hall before her stretched almost interminably, green tinted glass separating her from the inmates as she was led down in towards the women's ward. Along the way, some of the previously housed inmates had caught wind of the infamous Catwoman having been captured among their ranks, sending some into vicious frenzy, hurled insults muffled by the thick glass that isolated them from her.

Of course, this wasn't without her expending nearly every variation she knew to flip the bird, grinning at every one of her victims mockingly. The guards impassively led her through, coming upon a flight of wide stairs illuminated with soft, magenta lighting, a graceful arch soaring above the entrance with "Woman's Ward" scripted in hard, blunt letters. Still, it was leagues better than the crap section of the Asylum the men called home.

"Say, fellas, mind telling me who I'm bunking with?" she asked her captors with a grin, trying to persuade them with a bat of her eyelashes.

The detail of guards only scoffed, one roughly seizing her by her wrists and jerking her to a rough stop before a cell denoted only by its roughly shaped door, metal dully glinting off the soft, warm light that lined the corridor.

"Well, don't you all just suck," she grumbled begrudgingly.

The only response she received was a hollow chuckle, the guard's assistant opening the door and thrusting her inside, she colliding with with coarse concrete floor.

"Oof!" she sputtered, hacking up some dust that had somehow ended up in her mouth. Whirling around, she reeled slightly as the door swung heavily shut, a resounding metal clang indicated she was sealed in, only a tiny sliver of light illuminating the pitch-dark room.

"Kitty-cat, is that you?" a familiar voice ventured shyly, Selina recognizing it instantly.

"Harl, ohmigod, it's you!" Selina proclaimed happily, hugging the shadowy form of her fellow Siren. "How have you been?"

The blonde shook her head pitifully. "They got me locked up in here with my puddin', and they won't let me see him," Harley lamented, hiccuping through her tears, sniffling into a piece of toilet paper.

Both seated upon the bed, Selina hugged the other girl close. "I'm sorry, Harl..." she said, feelings mixed. She felt sympathy towards Harley's plight, but she felt little to nothing towards the Joker. He was a messed up freak to her, and not much else.

"An', an', Mr. J is all by his lonesome! They've stuck him in solitary confinement!" she wailed, whirling around where she stroked her fingers along a poster in the image of the criminal, his ghoulish smile stretched up to his cheekbones, which never failed to disgust Selina.

"Um...they won't hurt him. They can't. Because then they'll have you to deal with, Harl," Selina said reassuringly, smiling awkwardly, though Harley thankfully couldn't see it through her religious obsession with the poster at her bedside.

"Yeah, they're definitely gonna pay," Harley vowed, her hand curling into a fist as she placed at kiss on the poster.

The girl turned around, fixing a curious stare on Selina. "Y'know, as glad as I am to see you again, wassa sane gal like you doin' here?"

Selina brought her knees to her chin, rocking back and forth a little. "I can't tell you much about it, but I'm not here because I'm insane or anything. And I can't go into huge detail because it's confidential, but I'm basically on a mission to make this place better for you guys. And in doing so I'm assuring my freedom from the police," Selina explained, nibbling her lip slightly.

"Hm. I thought as much. But if you're trying to bide some time from the police, why ya workin' with them?" Harley asked, quirking a brow at the obvious irony behind Selina's explanation.

"I'm not working with them as a whole. Just one of them. Even though he's not really respected and stuff by his fellow policemen, he's a good cop kind of guy. He helped a lot with Dollhouse when that bozo was snatching homeless kids and sex workers off the streets," Selina supplemented, the suspicion in Harley's eyes receding, "and I thought it wouldn't hurt to collaborate with him a little. Returning the favor, ya know?"

"That sounds fine an' all, but comin' here? This is the last place in town anyone wants to come. Especially with Crane's methods of keeping peeps in line. Lucky I've never misbehaved enough to see him," Harley shivered, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

"Crane? Who's that?" Selina demanded, her interest piqued.

Harley shivered imperceptibly. "Real nasty piece o' work. Got a pretty face, but he's obsessed with fear and is as messed up as any of us here. Real spindly and tall, kind of like a Scarecrow. Scares the bejeebus out of me, and I ain't the only one. Everyone he encounters ends up terrified of him. Mr. J told me he's been here a long while, and that he's tortured my puddin' fer as long as he's been here! I hate him!"

Selina was taken slightly aback by the girl's obvious abhorrence of this doctor, and she couldn't help but wonder if this new face would become an enemy anytime soon. She voice her question aloud to Harley.

"He only deals with the real pieces o' work. You won't have to worry about him, unless he takes a special interest in you. Promise me you won't do anything to get his attention? I made Red swear, now I'm gonna do the same for you, so just promise me you won't go lookin' for trouble. Pinkie swear, kitty?" Harley pleaded, taking Selina's hands in hers, eyes devoid of anything but concern and honest fear for this Crane person.

Harley released Selina's hands and offered her own, pinkie hooked and thumb extended. Selina smiled, hooking her own pinkie to Harley's as they shook on it.

"I pinkie swear it," they both said in unison, smiling.

"Mm...five more minutes..." Selina mumbled, tossing to her side and burying herself deeper in the warm cocoon of blankets.

"Kitty! Ya gotta wake up! It's time for breakfast! They get real loud an' angry if you don't," Harley hissed, clinging to the edge of Selina's top bunk, shaking the girl's shoulder.

"I'm up, I'm up," Selina placated, yawning hugely, lengthening her back as she stretched exactly like a cat.

Harley bounded off of their bunk, doing some light warm-ups herself. "They'll be comin' in exactly five minutes. I know because I've been here for a real long time, Kitty. Just stick with me and keep yer trap shut, and you'll mosey along fine."

"What time is it?" she grumbled softly, legs hanging over the edge of her bunk as she blinked owlishly, rubbing her eyes a few more times. There was no window in the room, so she was lost as it what time it was.

"Five AM," Harley answered, windmilling her arms a couple of times. "This place is like a boot camp. Gotta abide by a real strict schedule an' all."

"Bed by nine, up at five, breakfast, athletics, therapy, recreation for a few hours, lunch, more therapy, dinner, returning to our cells to start all over again," Harley rattled off, balancing on a hand, legs suspended in mid-air.

"Lovely," Selina quipped sarcastically, hopping from her bed, exactly when a pair of guards flung open the door and brusquely shoved Harley to the ground, the girl crying out.

"Hey! That was completely unnecessary, y'know!" Selina spat defensively, rushing over to Harley and helping the girl up.

"Nobody asked you, kitten! Now get the hell up and move!" the offending guard roared, hand poised menacingly on his nightstick. It was taking of hell of a lot of willpower to resist smashing his face in, but she only seethed silently and remembered what she was here for.

"Right," Selina sniped, hauling Harley up, the girl collecting herself unsteadily.

Both girls were ushered from their room rather forcefully, men with tranquilizer guns statuesque against the walls as they were prodded along.

"Is Ivy here?" she asked Harley, their heads bowed, exchanging words in low whispers.

"Yeah, she sure is. We'll be sittin' with her when we take our meals. I bet she'll be real glad to see you, Kitty," Harley replied hopefully, smiling sunnily at Selina.

"Can't say that seeing her again will be unpleasant in the least," she grinned back, much to the irritation of the presiding guards.

"Why would it be? We're the Gotham City Sirens for chrissakes, Kitty," Harley said.

"Amen to that, Harl."

The cafeteria proved to be the hive of the asylum, and she was sure that it may have been the only place where such a large congregation of patients could assemble all in one place. The room itself was large and spacious, though it still sported the low quality of hygiene that had disgusted her before when she'd first came. The ceilings were high and incrusted with blotches of coffee-colored rings, lengths of florescent lights hung in shabby arrays, flickering sporadically. The cold concrete floors looked as if they hadn't been mopped in ages, and the cafeteria tables looked ready to fall apart at anytime. It reminded Selina of a high school...if this was how they looked in horror movies. At the fore, brooding and morbidly obese staff governed over the food being dispensed, and to Selina it smelled absolutely foul.

"Do we seriously have to eat that shit?" she whined to Harley, the girl rolling her eyes at her friend's obviously high standards of what she deemed acceptable to call food.

"Welcome to the real world, chicka," Harley said affably, patting her friend's shoulder tersely. "We don't get to dine on five-star food like you do, so ya might as well get used to it."

"This is more like negative one hundred stars," came Selina's rejoinder, eyes grazing over what the other inmates were eating, which honestly looked like goo in earth tones.

"Come on," Harley urged, hauling Selina by her arm and reserving a place for them in line.

Selina picked a tray for herself and stood dejectedly, the sickening fumes causing her nose to crinkle, and her eyes to water, the urge to pinch her nose becoming stronger with every step they took forward.

Harley rolled her eyes again and amiably pointed to several portions of food that filled out her small tray, whistling contently as she made way towards the condiments and beverages.

Selina's eyes roved the many unidentifiable foods, finally settling on one that looked remotely edible; mac and cheese. She took a small portion, never having been one to have much of an appetite, something she'd been acclimated to over the years.

Sighing in disappointment, she soon followed Harley, having taken a styrofoam cup filled with watery black coffee and a few packets of cream.

Suddenly, it dawned on her that they were the only visible women within the whole of the cafeteria, men as far as the eye could see.

"Hey, what gives? We're the only girls here," Selina relayed to Harley, the girl shrugging as they sank into an empty table.

"They're buildin' a new wing for women across the street, and all the other lady patients have been transferred there. You, me, and Red are the only chickadees here, probably because we're a bit famous or whatever reason they found in their crock of shit. I honestly don't care; I'd prefer anyplace with Mr. J over a nice, new place for women any old day of the week," Harley reasoned complacently, beginning to chow down on her mystery meat.

"Is Ivy here?" Selina asked, whirling her head around.

"Yes, Selina, I am, and I'm as disgusted as you are by the deplorable lack a decent food around here."

"Red!" Selina cried cheerfully, all three girls hugging briefly in celebration of their reunion.

Even though Ivy and Selina weren't ones to get alone so easily, their mutual feelings towards ever-compassionate Harley bridged that gap. Sealing it was their mutual circumstance of them all currently imprisoned within Arkham. And with the three of them already friends before this sudden turn of events, that made their pact of friendship even stronger.

All of them settled around the table, Ivy was the first commandeer the conversation.

"I see that your beloved Batman has yet to save his precious kitten," Ivy patronized, a smug smile spanning her green skin.

Selina paused mid-bite of the gluey mac and cheese, spoon slowly lowering against her tray. "He's dead, Ives," she responded with a hollow sadness in her voice.

"Oh, toots, I'm sorry!" Harley cried sympathetically, leaning Selina against her shoulder. Ivy seemed indifferent, but she did scoff to the side a little, regretting her choice of words.

"No, it's alright...y'know, if anything, I think this may finally be a chance to move on. I mean, there's another guy out there. It's not like Gotham is without a Batman. It's just...he won't be my Batman," Selina replied quietly, morosely taking a bite off the spoon.

"You wanna talk about it, kitty?" Harley proffered, stroking Selina's unruly raven hair.

"Are we talking about Hush or some other relation?" Ivy asked, propping her face in a cupped hand.

"I don't know, but no matter what, if Batman strays in the right or wrong direction, I'll be there," Selina answered ambiguously, shrugging her shoulders.

"He...taught me a lot about myself. For better or worse, he helped mold me into who I am. I will always love him, and I'm grateful for the memories with him, good and bad. But, I'm not gonna mourn him forever. I know I can move on, and accept that we loved each other, and I think he'd be happier knowing that I love him enough to let him go and not obsess with his death. He wouldn't want that," Selina smiled resolutely at her friends. "I know that he was your guys' enemy, and I respect that—sometimes, he was mine, too. But, that won't stop me from being friends with you guys, nor will it stop me from loving who he was."

"That's all well and good—kudos to you moving on and all—but may I ask why you are here in the first place? You aren't the slightest bit insane," Ivy dismissed Selina's spiel airily, waving a hand as if to egg her on.

Selina knit her brows lightly in irritation, but just sighed it wearily off. "I'm working with someone who wants to bring in a little humanity here. I mean, have you noticed? Bad living conditions, violent personnel, over-worked employees? And this place just reeks with sinister intentions. Not the kind of sanatorium people should be recovering in; if anything, it's almost hellbent on making them worse," Selina explained, stabbing her meal for another bite.

Ivy quirked a brow in amusement. "This is Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Why should society create a kind facility for those who made their lives a living hell? I certainly wouldn't," she scoffed again, rolling her eyes. "Even criminals such as myself and Harley can obviously see that."

"Maybe, but that's not what my associate thinks," Selina rebutted, boring her eyes through Ivy.

"Eh, who cares why she's here? The three of us are reunited and back together again~ No bozo in this room'll dream of messin' with us!" Harley crowed, pumping a fist into the air.

Ivy quirked a brow. "Maybe, but with Selina here, our enemy count as increased dramatically. Walking the gray line isn't always beneficial, especially in an institution such as this," the red-head remarked, glaring at a table of men attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. They turned around, contributing once more to the loud din of male voices.

"Hey, as long as we're together, I'll kick ass if need be," Selina pouted, setting down her fork once she was finished. "'Sides, you and Harl aren't pushovers either. We'll have Arkham under our boots if they try to pull any shit on us."

"I agree with the latter," Ivy smirked, swirling Harley's spent cup with her finger.

"Attention, patients of Arkham Asylum; today is October 20th, Tuesday morning. Dr. Jonathan Crane speaking, head of the psychiatry division. I'd like to inform you all that the Electroshock therapy room has recently undergone extensive renovation, as you were all aware over the past several weeks, and procedures will no longer need to take place within the basement. For those receiving treatment, you will be led to the first floor therapy room. I'd also like to let you know that the new arrivals from yesterday will be undergoing a psychiatric evaluation presided over myself. I look forward to meeting our newest patients momentarily. That is all," the smooth, lustrous voice concluded, the P.A. crackling off.

"Shit," Selina cursed, her teeth ground into an anxious grin.

"Um, Harl, this won't break our pinky promise, will it?"

Last thoughts: Well, this concludes the first chapter of my Scarecrow/Catwoman fanfiction! Be sure to tell me what you think~

I know that this pairing might seem really odd to you guys, but I'm actually a Catwoman a part of Dark Foundations, a multiverse Batman-universe roleplaying family that I helped set up with several dear friends of mine on tumblr. The Crane who roleplays with us made me addicted to the pairing after we decided to make my Selina and his Crane a couple, and I've loved the thought of them together ever since. My Selina is slightly different from canon, as she's younger and spunkier, and less mature than canon!Selina, who I still absolutely adore. This fic, I think, could be considered multiverse because it features Nolan!Crane and DC!Selina, and these are the versions featured within our roleplaying family. I've really come to adore them, and I hope that maybe you could come to like them, too. Even though I'm not a huge shipper of Batman/Catwoman, I still realize that he's a huge part of her life and I just can't leave that out for convenience's sake. But I still think that it would make for a powerful transition for her to deal through the repercussions of his death, to develop her and her character. I want to develop Crane, too, only including a lot of nuances from DC!canon. Basically, I want to give them a story, something plausible so this coupling doesn't seem so ridiculous and more real.

I am reading as many comics as I can, and I promise to make this credible and recognizable. Basically, I'm developing this story off of Arkham Asylum: Living Hell, Gotham City Sirens, and Catwoman, the New 52 version, as well as the movies and video games.

I hope you can enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

~Peace, G.