After not being around for so long and not knowing what to do with this chapter, I decided to just write a shameless fluff. Enjoy the one genuine and unironically warm moment these two have.


It was amazing really, how little control we really had over our own bodies. A man like Edward Nigma always liked to imagine being the king of his own mind. Never would he think that something as simple as an awkward car ride would unnerve him so easily, but there he sat, trying to concentrate on the road while fighting off the urge to glance towards Eva. He had more important things to focus on after all.

Neither of them spoke the entire ride up to the hotel. Eva didn't even notice when Edward booked only one hotel room, not that she would have really argued with that. She was too busy looking out the windows in the lobby. The sun was still out, but the city showed signs of getting ready for the night life. Traffic slowed down just a bit, a couple of bars on the street were turning on their neon signs, and she could see a couple of scantily dressed women walking by.

"It would be nice to go out on the town for a bit," she sighed to herself. Shaking her head, she went into the elevator with Edward. It was too much to ask that they could have a nice civil night together.

No sooner had they opened the hotel room door than Edward had abruptly set his luggage aside and sat on one of the twin beds. From the inside of his jacket he took out a notepad and pen and began to scribble down something furiously.

"What's with you," Eva asked sitting down on the other bed. Not even looking up, he responded, "Have you ever met Carmine Falcone?"

"No."

"Well, working with him is like choosing between the lady and the tiger," he scratched something out, "it never ends well either way."

"But doesn't the princess decide his fate?" she said, hoping to get a bit of conversation from him. Again, he just sat there writing down, ignoring her. What was so important about meeting up with Falcone, anyway?

"I think she chose the tiger," she bluntly remarked. That at least got him peering over his notepad.

"And why do you say that?"

"At least then the princess knows what happens to her lover. He was maimed and mutilated, end. If she had chosen the lady, she'd always be wondering. He could've fallen out of love with her, and she would never know."

She acted as if was the most obvious thing in the world that, if given the choice to save your lover by giving him up to another woman or having him killed by a vicious animal, a woman would let her jealousy get in the way of her feelings for someone.

"Remind me to never be caught in that kind of situation with you," Edward said with the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

"What, you don't trust me?" she went to sit beside him on his bed

"I don't even think you trust yourself."

"So you're diagnosing me now?" Resting her chin on his shoulder, she linked her arm with his.

"More like making you think before you speak for once." It felt nice for them to be so close to one another without it feeling awkward.

"Well here's a thought," she shot up excitedly, pulling him with her, "why don't we go out?"

At Edward's skeptical look, she quickly rationalized, "You need to loosen up before your meeting with Falcone, and I need a night out."

For a moment she thought he would decline, given that thoughtful look on his face. He glanced down to the notepad he still had in his left hand, and then smiled.

"Where do you suggest?"


The Riddler had certainly had spent his fair share of time in the middle of Gotham's nightlife. So, when Eva had suggested going out, he had assumed a rowdy bar, an obnoxiously loud club, a restaurant with horrible service. He was actually pleasantly surprise to have her lead him into a pretty mellow nightclub.

"So what do you think?" Eva said, walking through the entrance in rhythm to the upbeat music playing.

"It's classier than anywhere I'd imagine you going." He make note of the bar in the corner that she was heading to.

"You're lucky I'm taking that as a compliment."

She crossed her legs while taking a seat at the counter, motioning for him to sit next to her. A bartender there waited for their order.

"I'll take a Macallan."

"I never took you for a scotch man," Eva comment, surprise at his choice. He just flashed a confident smirk, showing that this wasn't his first time around a bar. The bartender nodded, already getting a glass out.

"And you miss?"

"…just a water thanks." She didn't want to spoil the night. Turning to her date with her drink in hand, Eva struggled with finding a good conversation starter.

"So, why are you so scared of … well, you know who?"

"Good question," he remarked while rolling his eyes, "why be afraid of one of the most powerful men in Gotham's underground?"

Eva didn't let his bout of sarcasm get to her. She could see be the way his shoulders slumped and how he stared at his whiskey that something else was upsetting him, "If that was it, I'd be scared of him too, and I'm not."

He scoffed; he was being to think Eva wasn't afraid of 'normal things.'

"I've done business with him before… it didn't end well," he took a sip of his drink, "Thank goodness for April fool's Day."

More than little uncomfortable, Eva just sipped her water quietly. An upbeat tune started up on speakers, and she saw a few people going out onto the dance floor. She brightened up, taking Edward's hand and leading him away from the bar.

"Come on Eddie, not afraid of dancing are you?"

She moved to the beat and urged him to do the same. Getting over the initial surprise of being pulled from his seat, he started to enjoy himself. Their motions were so different, with Eva's being full of life and Edward's more than a little stiff. She continued to pull him closer, while he made sure to hold tightly onto her hips as they swayed.

They found themselves lost in one another's touch. She laughed when he took her into in his arms possessively and kissed her neck. Neither of them even realized that they had been dancing for over an hour.

"I think it's about time we got back to the hotel," Edward whispered into her ear. She responded by pressing her lips lightly to his cheek.

"Is there any chance we could spend the rest of the night in your bed," she asked as they left, "I've gotten kind of used to it."

"So have I," he took her into his arms again and kissed her for the first time since this whole ordeal had even started. Eva eagerly kissed him back, remembering why she had even slept with him at all. The way they held one another felt right… and yet wrong. They felt alive.


I'm tempted to make this the end… but where's the fun in that?