Disclaimer: I do not own the rights "Batman" or any of its characters, including Scarecrow, nor do I own any rights to the comics or the films. I own nothing save for any original characters I have created.

A/N: So the other night, I reread my first Crane/OC fic, Intoxicating. I have been writing a sequel to it for a few months, called Intrigue. I've been unhappy with Intrigue for a while, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. It wasn't until after I reread Intoxicating that I decided to give a sequel another shot. I feel like I'm constantly going in circles with this pairing, and that's because I care so much about the characters and feel so passionate about them.

Intrigue will stay up, and I will return to it, but for now I wanted to explore a different sequel, with a different storyline. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons. If you liked my other Crane/Teagan fics then I hope you will give this one a shot.

I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Chapter 1

"So, you're a new intern, huh?"

"That's right."

The Arkham Asylum guard's eyes travel hungrily across the girl walking alongside him. Young, maybe early twenties. Petite. Thick, curly blonde hair; he can tell by her eyebrows that it isn't her true hair color-probably dyes it. He snorts. Dames are always doing something to their appearance. He'll take a natural girl any day, thank you very much.

Still. This one ain't too bad looking.

"Guess you're probably way into that psychology mumbo jumbo, yeah?" He rolls his eyes and smacks his gum loudly, his disdain for that "mumbo jumbo" rather obvious.

The girl smiles. "I suppose you could say that."

"Yeah, well, I don't need a degree to tell me that the people here are freakin' loony. But ain't none of them as loony as the one you're about to go see." The guard pauses for a second, as if a thought has just occurred to him. "Ya know, interns don't usually make contact with the inmates. Most of the time you all just sit in the doctor's offices and file the paperwork they don't wanna mess with. And I ain't never taken an intern to see a high-profile inmate all by their lonesome."

"I'm not your typical intern," she replies without skipping a beat. Her smile does not falter.

The guard frowns. "Look, I may hate this job but I ain't lookin' to get fired-"

"Don't worry, I can keep a secret." There is a hint of laughter in her voice. "Besides the night nurses and guards, everyone's gone home for the night, and we're the only ones in this corridor."

She gives him a wink and his stomach flutters for a brief second. "I won't tell if you don't," she says coyly, and he grins.

"Alright." The guard shrugs and they resume their walk.

After a moment he speaks again. "Ain't you scared to go see this guy?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"Oh, I dunno know, how about 'cause the guys a freakin' psycho?" He snorts. "You college types come in here and think you know it all with your textbooks and your theories. I see these weirdos up close and personal every day and lemme tell ya, if one of them so much as looked in your general direction you'd be running away as fast as you could."

They come to a stop in front of a wide metallic door with the words "SOLITARY CONFINEMENT" printed across in tall, bold letters.

The girl looks up at him and her eyes meet his. They look a bit too blue to be real, he thinks to himself. Must be contacts.

"I guess it's a good thing you're here to protect me then," she says lightly, and the corners of her pale lips turn upwards into a small smirk.

The guard holds her gaze. "Yeah, I guess it is." Her eyes continue to bore into him and he turns away quickly, suppressing a shudder.

Unnerved by a dame? Really? This place must be getting to him. All that screaming...

He fumbles for his identification badge and holds it under the door's security scanner; after a moment it gives a beep of recognition and the heavy doors slowly slide open.

They step forward into a narrow, dimly-lit corridor and the door closes behind them with a loud clank.

The girl lifts her hand and points towards the cell at the end of the hallway, its door solid save for a small, barred window.

"Is he in there?" the girl asks quietly, her voice shaking.

The guard grins mockingly. "What, I thought you weren't scared?"

"I'm not," she replies softly, walking towards the door.

"Wait!" the guard yells sharply, and she stops mid-stride before slowly turning to face him.

"First there are some rules ya-"

"Thank you so much for your help, but there's no need to go over protocol. I've got everything under control now."

The guard raises his eyebrows, taken aback by her suddenly brisk tone. "'Scuse me?"

The girl sighs, no longer bothering to mask her annoyance. "I said I've got-"

"'Got everything under control', yeah, I heard ya. Who do you think you're talkin' to?"

"I'm talking to someone who is testing the very last shred of my patience." The girl narrows her eyes angrily and turns back towards the cell.

The guard reaches forward and roughly grabs her arm. "Okay, time to go. You're cute and all but-"

The guard sputters when the gas hits his face and he takes a step back, releasing his hold on her. He steadies himself against the wall as he coughs, and when he looks up at her every line of his face is etched with fury.

"You little-"

He lunges at her, arms extended, and when she jumps out of his path he crashes onto the ground. She presses herself against the wall, preparing for his next attack, but the guard does not rise.

She watches as his body begins to convulse—slow, feeble movements at first, before graduating to full-on tremors.

"No...no..." the guard whispers, and she breathes a quiet sigh of relief at the familiar terror in his voice.

"No...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The scream rips from the guard's throat as his eyes bulge in horror. "Stop it! Stop it! No no no!"

The girl reaches down and grabs the identification card from his vest. Hands shaking, she runs down the hallway to the cell door. She presses the ID against the door's sensor, palms sweaty.


The cell door begins to slowly slide open and the girl's pounding heart beat drowns out the guard's screams.

Oh my God.

Her breath catches in her throat when Jonathan Crane steps forward and out of the cell, hair long and disheveled, his beard stubble flecked with specks of gray.

Their eyes meet and for a moment they are perfectly still, as if they can hardly believe that the other is standing before them.

And then the girl rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Crane's lithe body, and his lips are on hers, burning into her skin as they travel over her hungrily. He reaches up and gently tugs the wig from her head; it falls to the floor as her dark hair spills down her back and he wraps his fingers in it, his breath hot on her neck. Tears of happiness slide down her cheeks; how long has she dreamed about this moment, craved it, lived for it, and now it's finally happening...

When they pull away Crane clears his throat, smoothing the front of his orange jumpsuit.

"It's nice to see you, Miss James," he says primly.

Teagan smiles. "It's nice to see you too, Jonathan," she replies softly.

Crane looks over her shoulder at the guard lying still on the floor, now babbling wordlessly as he stares at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

"How many are there?"

"Not many—I counted three near the front desk."

"I trust you brought enough toxin?"

"Yes. We shouldn't have any trouble leaving."

Crane nods and walks towards the door, stepping over the guard.

"Jonathan, wait-"

He feels the familiar texture of burlap pressed into his hand and his heart leaps in his chest.

"I managed to-"

His lips return to hers, silencing her, and in that moment they are the only two people in the world.

She is his experiment, his achievement, his victory.

She is his.