Every flower holds a riddle [Ivy]

[Deleted]

A new trend that had started in Gotham was the opening of speakeasy bars open to the public. Of course, Edward knew quite a few speakeasy that were quite private where illegal gambling took place and back handed deals, but at those locations there were always listening ears. He decided to try out of the new fad and hip, as the kids called it, speakeasy in North Gotham called the Gibson. He had made a reservation for two under Gamin and arrived early per usual. The entrance was located in the alleyway, and it had a line around the block. Edward never was one for waiting, and walked to the front door, knocking on it. He informed the bouncer of his reservation, and he was led inside the small low light room to a table off in the corner. The candle on each table provided the most light in the room. It would allow them to talk without Pam’s green skin drawing attention to them. He ordered a sour apple martini, taking his seat in the comfortable booth as he waited.

He had very little interaction with Poison Ivy for the most obvious reason being that the woman was extremely dangerous and he had no interest in becoming her drugged out little helpers. He respected her, but women in general were fickle creatures with emotions that could turn on a dime. He hoped though that this could be the beginning of a beautiful business partnership, especially since she held a large part in his master plan. It was convincing her to be a part of it that would be difficult.

He sipped on his drink, lost in his thoughts, since the return of his voice, his pieces were finally coming into place, and he could soon take the next step in his overall plan. Everything would work perfectly. He had accounted for everything, and if it worked perfectly, the people who had wronged him would also fill the blunt of Edward’s intelligence. He knew he would end up in Arkham at the end, but it was all part of the plan.

He took another sip, wearing his green gloves, even though they didn’t match the suit as a precaution.

Soon, Gotham and the world would realize the true genius of the Riddler.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Given Poison Ivy's opinion of men in general, it's justifiable to ask why she'd so readily accept an invitation to meet with Eddie. Simple curiosity is a part of it - Eddie is known for his grand schemes and it's only natural to wonder what it is this time and to like the idea of knowing about it beforehand instead of reading about it later in the paper or something. But that alone isn't enough to draw her attention away from her own projects. Another part is because she knows that he'd only contact her if he was in desperate need of her particular talents and that he's known to reward those who do him a favor quite richly if they don't find the task to be its own reward. But there again, it's not enough - he doesn't have anything she needs after all.

No, she's mostly here the man's antics can be rather entertaining to watch, and to be involved would theoretically be more entertaining still - at least in theory. Of course, 'involved' could mean so many different things, including but not limited to how he wants her to be involved, but as she hasn't the slightest idea what he's up to now she'll have to decide that later. For now she's content to simply arrive at the designated place and time.

Tonight she's certainly not going to any great lengths to disguise herself - partly because of the nature of the venue, and partly because she's now far enough along in her plans to better herself that she almost hopes some sort of crime fighter, be they masked or not, shows up for a piece of her so that she can give them far more than they can handle. For too long she's avoided them, going so far as to languish in the asylum in order to avoid dealing with them, but no longer. Not that she's going to put up a neon sign inviting them over or hand out maps to her hideout, but if they happen to find out that she's here before she leaves then it is on. Though she hasn't gone so far as to wear a dress made of leaves this time - that takes bit more work so it's more of a special occasion thing. Instead she's wearing a more ordinary short, strapless green dress with matching elbow length gloves and a pair of high-heeled, dark green boots. A dark green clutch purse completes the ensemble - she really doesn't need to carry very much with her these days.

She walks into the place with her characteristic confident, sultry stride that's practically designed to draw attention to her many fine curves - and they do. She feels many eyes on her as she follows the man leading her to the table where the Riddler waits. Just how many of those stares are lustful and just how many are fearful (or perhaps both?) is difficult to say. But either way she ignores them and instead focuses her attention on the man who asked to meet with her. Her expression shifts into an amused smirk as she spots him, and she's quick to settle herself on the other side of the table when she reaches it.

"Good evening," she greets him with a smile as she crosses her legs. But first things first - her attention shifts to the waiter and she says, "I'll have an absinthe." The offer of drinks actually was a part of the incentive for being here, after all. As the man leaves to get her one, she adds, "Now... what can I do for you?"

[Deleted]

Edward had seen many beautiful women in his days, and he had been with most of them that caught his eyes, so unlike most men that could be transfixed with an image like it was their first Playboy they pulled out of their father’s stash, he rarely let his mind get distracted when something far more important sat on the line. He swirled his drink in his glass, as he still contemplated the best way to sell this woman. He didn’t look up until he noticed the room become strangely quiet, and found his own head tilting to the side to see the arrival of the very woman he awaited for. She walked with confidence and style, it held a natural air of attraction, and he could understand why these mindless buffoons seemed to be drooling in their seats.

He remembered her tinted green skin from Oswald’s poker night, but it always caught his eye even in such a low lit setting. The woman certainly knew biology, and however she was tampering with herself, he knew it likely would be dangerous for anyone else. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed the color green. Her use was far too environmentalist hippy for his taste. He liked the color for it represented flare and money, two of his favorite things.

As she sat down, he let a smirk pull at his lips, watching as she ordered her drink. He highly doubted they had absinthe, but when a woman like her walks in, they would likely run blocks to find one bottle just for her. “To you as well, Miss Ivy,” he stated with a tip of his glass, “You seem to become lovelier every time I see you, and I suspect quite a few of the other gentlemen in this bar would prefer to swap places with me.” He chuckled before he settled in his seat and she got straight to the point. It looked like they would be wasting no time on pleasantries.

“I am certain you could do a lot for me,” he started with that teasing smirk still playing on his lips, “But I am only asking for something so small, I doubt it would even inconvenience your time.” His forefinger and thumb pressed together as if to visibly show her how small his request was. “I know how valuable your time is, so of course I wouldn’t even ask this small tiny favor without providing something in return to you. I am a businessman at heart. Not certain if you knew this, dear, but I earned millions in the stocks back in the day of my youth. Oh how we grow and a sense of awakening occurs, as if the blinders are pulled from our eyes and we see reality for what it truly is. After all, Miss Ivy, I’m trying to help this world. We coddle the weak and unintelligent, and how do they return the favor to their superiors? Answer, they hurt them. You should understand this, it’s like a child playing in a well kept garden, it large grubby fingers pulling at every plant it sees just because it finds it beautiful. Did the child even think of it as a living thing? Did the child think how much work was put in? Did the child think at all? No, there is not thinking among the idiots, and I only hope to create an equal playing field. Where people like you and I are honored for our success instead of shunned.” Edward loved to talk, and since he had the ability back, he could spout off monologues like a professional actor. He would never take the ability to speak for granted again.

“I want to help you, Miss Ivy,” he smirked, a twinkle in his eye, as if it was one of the most innocent statements to ever leave his mouth.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

It doesn't really matter to Poison Ivy whether they'll have to go well out of their way to get her the drink that she wants - what matters is that she wants it and whether they're more charmed by her beauty or fearful of her wrath, she knows they'll get it for her. It's a bit of a niche product, but if they're not up with the times enough to have it on hand, surely someone knows someone who can get it here within a non-ridiculous timeframe - exactly how difficult that will be is none of her concern. Who knows - perhaps if she keeps demanding it around the city, it will become a trend among those who want to feel like a dangerous rogue. Which would be nice, but mainly because then she could get in anywhere without having to wait.

A glance is given to the other patrons when Eddie mentions the other gentleman, and she comments, "I'm sure they would. Most men are idiots like that." After all, the only reason why she'd have a drink with most of them is because she had reason to kill them. The rest would be spared because she could have some use for them - and then she would kill them. No matter how hazardous for their health she is, more will always fall into her trap.

But while there is a time and place for pleasantries, this is not one of them for her. If one wanted to sit around and talk about nothing with her, one would have to arrange and different setting for it entirely. As he beats around the bush in the most verbose way possible, she listens and is clearly giving him her attention but doesn't react very much to his words. After all, so little of it matters to her. Though when he finally reaches the end of the pointless monologue, she raises an eyebrow and asks, "You want to help me?" She careful to keep her tone simply skeptical instead of actually laughing out loud at the very idea.

[Deleted]

Ivy is correct in assuming that the staff will find a way to retrieve the drink because that is exactly what they do. They can’t quite place her, but there is a familiarity of her that screams that if they don’t accomplish the task, they will face a terrible fate, so one of the employees is forced to go on a journey to all the nearest bars to find it. Edward, however, could care little or not if they retrieve it, though he suspects that she would be more pleasant to deal with under a slight daze of alcoholic relief.

He is far too focused on her subtle body language to care for the other patrons or employees in the bar. He can tell immediately that she isn’t very impressed by his explanation, which slightly gnaws under his skin. Edward enjoyed being doted on with compliments and sound effects, but she looked at him as if he were one of his old idiotic professors from college. Insulting to say the least, but at the end of the day, she held the only talent of actually accomplishing what he wanted. He had done his research, learned of her ability, and how she continued to surpass her talents. He knew she could accomplish it.

Her question caused him to flinch in annoyance. The Riddler held the highest IQ in the world, of course he could offer help. Even if she had talent, she certainly wasn’t as smart as he was. He was smarter then everyone! He held back his first response to snap at her with a witty degrading comment, and merely forced a smile on his face. “Who wouldn’t want to help you, dear?” he asked sweetly, anger laced in his voice, “I know you wouldn’t need my help. You are quite an accomplished and talented woman. I only hope to offer another tool to your box of skills.”

He took another sip of his drink, as one of the employees came over panting, placing her drink on the table, apologizing for the delay.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a green lollipop, unwrapping it, as he thought how best to phrase his next statement and give her time to ponder over the last.

“I have notice you have lipstick that can entrance a man into doing whatever you ask of them. Is that correct?” he asked, testing the water, as he placed his candy in his mouth.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

If Eddie wishes her to be impressed, then he'll have to do something impressive, and thus far the most impressive thing that he's done is show how long one can speak without really coming to any point. Not that Poison Ivy is in that much of a hurry to get this meeting over with, but if the best small talk he can offer is to brag about his wealth, his superiority over other people, and the ease with which he can crush them then this is simply the wrong audience for him - she could brag about the very same things if she wanted to, after all. And is she going to be impressed by the fact that he can keep up with her on a few things that she doesn't consider to be very important? Of course not!

If he wants to really capture her attention, then he'll have to offer up something she doesn't have and suspects that she wants - a sign that perhaps she's better off associating with him than she would be in her usual solo endeavors. Not an impossible feat, but rendered more difficult by the fact that she's under the impression that she's not really lacking in anything at the moment. Yes, she'll admit that perhaps he has more raw mental capability than she does, but no she doesn't think that she really needs that - what she has is adequate for her needs, thank you.

What makes this conversation difficult, however, is that she really doesn't want to offend and antagonize him with her reactions, yet she can tell that she's doing so. But what was she supposed to do? Worship the ground that he walks upon simply for inviting her, even before he explains why he did so? Though at least her simply attentive expression eases into a flattered smile at his compliments, even if they are delivered with that hint of anger.

Fortunately, the arrival of the panting employee is a welcome distraction to all the happy feelings being exchanged at the table. Though what he presents to her causes her to immediately frown and ask, "What is this?"

"Um, absinthe?" the employee responds, making it a question as her question has made that answer less certain.

Sighing lightly and rubbing her forehead, she says, "I need some cold bottled water, an empty glass, a cube of sugar, and... well, a fork would work." Fortunately for the entire establishment, getting really upset at their incompetence would take way more time and energy than she's currently in the mood to expend, and at least they should have everything on that list on hand so she knows that she only has to exercise a bit more patience.

Her attention shifts back to Eddie the moment the employee sets off, and her eyebrows lift in mild surprise. "Yes, it is. I can't quite guarantee it's effectiveness because it's new and my tests have been somewhat limited, but thus far it's worked quite well," she replies, now with just a hint of curiosity. She has to wonder where he got that information from, but she's guessing it's a secret source so she doesn't bother to ask. Not that she hasn't used it openly a couple of times, but not enough for word to spread very far at all.

[Deleted]

He mentally scolded himself of not taking into consideration the woman’s choice in drink when choosing a location for them to meet. The drink itself was causing far too much of a disturbance when her focus should be entirely on him. He caught her frown when the waiter came to the table and her tone in voice of her question followed by the exhausted where she asked for her next items. Luckily, the boy was off running to acquire the items and hopefully it would be put to rest.

Based on her expression, his simple question had done exactly as he set out to do with it. It had increased her interest and also garnered a bit of respect. The Riddler considered himself a living library storing thousands and thousands of volumes with information stemming from pointless gossip to physic theories. He kept himself well versed in the daily happenings of this city and his fellow criminal’s recent objectives and goals. He provided himself on information because information was knowledge and knowledge was power. He also never would have reached out to Ivy if he hadn’t known of the lipstick. It was her lipstick and influence that he needed if his plan were to come to place.

He smirked and sat back a bit more confident than he had been before (surprisingly since he is already confident in most everything). “I have to say, it is quite an amazing creation only a true specialist in their field could every create such an item, and I am obviously sitting in front of a true specialist,” he stated, “I bring it up because I have something that can make it even more powerful, and give you more influence in your objective.”

He paused, taking a sip of his drink, as the boy came back with the items requested, placing them on the table. He didn’t want to rush it, or look too desperate. He did need this of her, but as his multiple interaction with women had taught him, desperateness only chased the fair creatures away.

He then leaned forward again, locking his eyes with her entrancing ones. “You can control men, but I have something that can help you control a man a bit more super than his counterparts,” he stated, leaving the obvious clue in his words.

He knew she held intelligence, nothing compared to his own, but he knew she would easily connect the dots on exactly who he was talking about.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Poison Ivy is certainly not trying to be difficult with her drink order, but she's in the mood for what she's in the mood for and right now it's absinthe instead of one of her secondary favorites that might actually be on their regular menu. Actually, aside from that little detail she actually thinks that Eddie did a decent job in picking the venue, though she sees no reason to voice that. Besides, though their conversation has be interspersed with the fuss over her drink, at least she's giving him her full attention between the interruptions.

And she can't help the smile that comes to her face as he praises her invention. Though it fades just the slightest bit as he goes on to say that he knows how to make it more powerful. "You say only a true specialist could create it and yet you believe you can improve it?" she asks, paraphrasing his statements into a question to show her disbelief in it, "Since when did you become an expert in biochemistry?" Once again she's careful to express skepticism only, because while she's aware that she is the absolute best in her field (with the possible exception of one person she hasn't been able to pit her skills against in several years) she'll acknowledge that the possibility exists for someone else to have an insight into something she overlooked. Though she's sure it's more likely that it's instead something she thought of but rejected for some reason.

At least what she needs to enjoy her drink has finally been delivered. It isn't difficult to see some of why she is good at what she does in her movements as she uses the gathered supplies to prepare her drink properly with quick but precise movements. A more reasonable portion of absinthe is poured from the original glass and into the new one and the extra is set aside, and then the fork is balanced on top of it with the sugar cube placed on top. Then the water is carefully and slowly poured over the sugar cube so that it dissolves completely without too much water being added and diluting the absinthe too much and destroying the flavor. She's actually somewhat surprised when the green liquid clouds properly - a sign that the absinthe is actually of decent enough quality. It thus isn't long before she's sipping a drink that she's clearly quite pleased with, in spite of the difficulty in obtaining it, and Eddie might be pleased to note that now that she has it in hand she appears to be a bit more settled and focused.

Especially after he goes on to hint at exactly which improvement he had in mind for her lipstick. Her eyebrows lift in surprise at the idea, though she doesn't respond to it immediately. Mulling it over for a moment she leans back and thoughtfully sips her drink before she comments, "Interesting idea... But what use would I have for him? He's not someone I'm known to cross paths with, and perhaps it's best if I keep it that way." Not that she can't immediately see how this idea would so easily fit into her current plans, but she's not going to tell Eddie that. She'd much rather hold her cards close to her chest and perhaps get him to show some of his.

[Deleted]

Edward’s eyes follow the movement of her hands carefully as he watches her prepare the drink, noting once again how green her skin had become. It strangely looked natural, yet he had no interest in touching it, if he could avoid it. His gloved fingers almost tapped on the table impatiently waiting, wanting to get to the point where she agreed with him, but he held back, moving his hand underneath the table to distract it.

“I am an expert in many things, but I will admit you surpass me in that field, and I suppose I am merely offering a suggestion, one you can take or leave,” he said casually, not enjoying swallowing his pride for hers. He might not have focused his entire career on biochemistry, but it hardly meant he was not familiar with the field and the process. Edward held a genius IQ. He had a photographic memory, and if he picked up a book, read through the pages, he likely would know more than a student studying it for years. Again, he was a genius.

He watched the subtle movement of her eyebrow followed by the cool collective expression that followed. There, he had her. A sly smirk spread across his face. She certainly wasn’t rejecting the idea, which meant she held interest, and she was playing the part of a pro negotiator or poker player.

“He has the ability to destroy whole buildings with a press of a finger or melt down man’s machine with a look of his eyes. I have no doubt you could find some use for him, as we all would if we had your talented ability,” he remarked, knowing his own use for Superman was merely as a distraction and to frame Lex Luthor. “If that doesn’t catch your interest…I am willing to offer something in return for taking on such a task.”

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

While he may not enjoy admitting that her skill in something is greater than his, it's quite necessary for this conversation. If he attempted for one moment to act as if he knew something more about her own field than she does, she'd have been rather offended - you don't go telling her that she missed something. A suggestion that may or may not lead to something is a different matter - she may consider herself to be the best in her field, but she's willing to admit that she doesn't see every problem from every angle all the time, so long as nobody ever accuses her of missing the obvious.

As he mentions the things that Superman can do, a smirk spreads across her face and she comments, "If I want buildings knocked over or machines melted, I can do that myself. ...Still, not that easily. I could certainly use him in one of the... projects that I'm working on." She knows that he can tell that she's interested at least to some degree, so she'll not refrain from openly admitting it. But she only pauses long enough to take a sip of her drink before she adds, "But my plans have been more subtle than that - to control Superman is to invite the Justice League to try and stop me and, while I don't doubt my ability to play rough with them with him under my control, it's still a very significant amount of added risk..."

Focusing her eyes on him more properly she adds, "Which is why I have to ask what you're offering in return?" Not that she had any intention of doing this for no other benefit than the fact that she wanted to from the moment that he indicated he was willing to offer more, whether or not she'd have been willing to do it for nothing before.

[Deleted]

She held herself highly, and to be quite honest, it was getting on his nerves. He could respect a woman with talent and a beautiful form, but let’s be honest; she’s just playing with plants. A gardener could accomplish such pointless tasks. He held his tongue, knowing better to voice such thoughts. At least she admitted that she did have interest in what he was offering.

Her concerns were noted in his mind, but he took them like he took most opinions, he crumpled them up and threw them in the trash. If she couldn’t play with the Justice League then she didn’t deserve to be among the rogue gallery.

His eyes stayed locked on her, as she finally got to her point, of course, she would look a gift horse in the mouth. He pulled his mouth into a smile, as if happy to offer her the world if she would ask for it. He had caught her attention, caught her interest, and now, he merely needed to secure the deal.

“I can offer many things. I have a genius level IQ after all. More importantly, I have a quite a level of income at the moment from multiple accounts, so I would be happy to offer a payment to either your endeavors or whichever conservation effort you would like me to donate to. If money is of no interest, then merely ask for what you would like, and I will see if I can be of service,” he smirked, waiting for her response.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Anyone who isn't immediately suspicious of any rogue offering them a deal is an idiot. It's not that they aren't capable of offering each other an honest and fair exchange with no unexpected catches or strings attached, or even that those are rare among people who often don't want to start a feud even with someone that they consider lesser. No, it's that you're by no means ever guaranteed to get one of those deals from someone well practiced in deceiving others, and the consequences of not being wary can be quite severe.

And Poison Ivy is no idiot, which is why she's being cautious. Not overly so - she knows that Eddie is perhaps one of the more reliable of the rogues - but when one is dealing with someone who is precise and pays attention to the details, it pays to do the same.

Based on the slightly dull expression that passes across her features as he explains what he's offering, she's not overly impressed by the idea of money. Which she confirms very quickly by simply noting, "Money is no concern of mine." Does he have any idea how easy it is for her to get money? Still, she's quick to add, "But what would I like? That's a better question! Let me think..." It's a difficult question, actually, as she prides herself on her self-sufficient ways and therefore she's not going to ask him to do anything that she could do herself. Of course the first things that come to mind she won't bother to mention - they're either outside of his power to provide or outside of his willingness to do.

The problem is that when you eliminate all of that, there actually isn't that much left on the list. Though of course she knows better than to express that opinion to Eddie - the man probably still assumes that she's helpless and that he can help her with all kinds of things. Still, she's sure that there's something he can do for her that would be worth it to her. It's simply a matter of thinking of it. In the meantime, she gives her drink a slow, thoughtful sip as she considers. Between what she can get for herself and her deals with Oswald, she's really not lacking in anything tangible that she desires, so it would probably be something intangible. But acquiring the intangibles she wants is not normally that difficult either, but there are more and broader gaps in that than there are in physical wants.

And one of those gaps is broad enough to make the risk she'd be taking worth it to her, and she immediately smirks to herself when it pops into her head. He might think that it's an unfair deal, but from where she's sitting it's worth it to her. "What I would like is to know everything about your relationship with Crane," she says, amusement clear to be seen in her eyes.

[Deleted]

Edward waited patiently. Quite rare since he is not a patient man though it could be seen in his eyes and his causal shifts and twitches that he was getting antsy. He watched her as she thought and chewed over his offer. He never quite seen someone put so much thought into what they wanted. Wants were simple. From the most intelligent to the most idiotic all people could list something they wanted. Call it greed or American consumerism. People always wanted more.

He settled for taking another sip of his drink to make time pass faster, yet as she spoke, he almost choked. He coughed trying to stabilize his appearance, covering his mouth with his glove hand as he placed his drink back in the corner. How the hell did she know anything about that? The fucking rumor mill! He thought he had gone through and knocked off the people that kept spreading such terrible nonsense about him. His jaw clenched in anger, but he forced a smile to try to seem unaffected by the terrible question.

“I work with him. I work with quite a few people,” he stated causally, waving his hand in the air as if it were nothing. Though obviously his entire form looked tensed and pissed off. “Why are so curious? Have your own plans for the Scarecrow? I’ve heard you’ve dangled him around like a toddler on multiple occasions.” He attempted to change the topic. Everyone enjoyed bragging about their conquests.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

The amusement in Poison Ivy's expression hardly decreases at Eddie's reaction to her words. In fact she takes his obvious agitation as a sign that she does indeed want exactly what she's asked for. Though if he supposes that she's asking simply because of the rumor mill, then he doesn't give her enough credit. She's just as aware as he is that sometimes the information passed is sometimes the complete and honest truth, sometimes has no basis in reality at all, but is more often somewhere between those extremes. All the rumor mill did was tip her off in the slightest of whispers to the fact that she might want to look into it. If she hadn't found further confirmation when she did so then she wouldn't have considered it worth asking him now, and now she's ever so delighted that she did.

So much so that she isn't even bothered when he so obviously attempts to sidestep the whole thing. Instead she leans forward in her seat (which, incidentally, grants him a very nice view of her cleavage), resting her arms on the table and idly running a finger along the rim of her glass. "Do I need a reason to be curious about you?" she asks rhetorically, before commenting, "I've had some dealings with him, yes, but that's not at issue here." While it's true that even she enjoys bragging about her conquests, she's hardly going to explain to him what she's up to. At least not until it's all over and done with - then she'll brag. But until then she prefers to keep her cards close to her chest, even if what she's up to has little to do with Eddie. There's no telling what he'd do with that information, after all, and if he did anything with it then it would probably not be to her favor.

So she goes right back to the topic at hand. "It's your dealings with him that I'm curious about. And it's a real bargain for you - I'm willing to risk playing with Superman so that you can do whatever scheme you have planned, and all I'm asking for in return is for you to talk about yourself," she says, making it sound as if it's a completely trivial request. Shifting her hand to pick up her glass, she comments, "And if it bothers you so much you can swear me to secrecy - I won't even tell Harley." Having said that, she takes a sip of her drink and waits for his response.

[Deleted]

His fingers clasped and unclasped on top of the table. He tried to remain calm. It hardly matter what this woman thought of him. She hardly held any intelligence that matched his own. She knew how to play with plants. Congratulations. Any average buffoon could go play in the dirt. Edward intelligence went far beyond the environment. He played Gotham for the game it was, and constantly held the better pieces on his chess board. He should not care what this woman thought. He should NOT care.

Yet…why did this woman feel the need that his PERSONAL affairs were any of her concerns. His temper was rising, and it became evident in the way his jaw had locked, and his eyes had narrowed on his purple gloves. He easily caught on to her subtle flattery. It did not delude him to the fact that she was sticking her nose where it did not belong. He knew how to handle such disrespectful accusations before. He would take his cane and happily pound it into the head of the nearest idiot spewing nonsense. This..this was quite different. He had a plan in place, and he needed her ability. Could he use her ability without her? Hmm, a riddle indeed. It would add additional months to his current plan, not to mention the possible failure if he were unable to acquire the specialized substance without her knowing.

It could be seen as a bargain to most people, but Edward knew the value of information. Information could move barriers quicker than an explosive. He had dabbled with such trades before, but rarely would he give up any personal information. In the end, how could she use it? If she were to spread it, he could denounce it as rumors. If she were to go after Jonathan, that hardly affected him. The man could take care of himself. Besides, they had stopped in their little dealings for the most part. Edward certainly did not call what they had relationship.

The only reason he wished to not to speak it was in fear of being called gay. Edward Nigma, the Riddler, was NOT gay! He had been dealing with these rumors ever since he was a teenaged boy, and they angered him to new levels. He had been with more women than even the most eligible of bachelors. He was not gay.

He finally turned and locked his eyes with hers, once more. He looked annoyed, but finally waved his hand like the information hardly mattered to him. “Fine, I succumb to your absurd request,” he muttered. He leaned back against his chair, not even noticing her cleavage, too pissed off to care. He crossed his arms over his chest like a stubborn child. “Jonathan and I have worked together on occasions, as I am currently working with you. On some occasions. Three to be exact,” his voice lowered to a whispers, his eyes glancing around the bar to make certain no one could hear, “We partook in physical activities. It meant nothing.”

He finally looked back to her, “Now, it is your turn.”