(Y/n) took a seat. The young woman unable to remove her eyes from those of the Riddler. She had always believed in the old Shakespearean quote, that the eyes are the windows to the soul. And for so long she had used a person's eyes to help her judge a person's character. (Y/n) knowing that even though lips may lie, eyes never could. And she was sure that she had never seen a more beautiful pair of eyes, than the ones that she was looking into now. The warm, silken brown orbs, showing a strange, and conflicted soul. In part, they were soft and gentle. A slight hint of sadness that made her heart want to reach out to him. That made her want to take him into her arms and hold him tight. Her fingers combing softly through his slicked back locks, as she promised to take that sadness away. Yet there was something else, a defiance. A strength. A wickedness. But that wicked glint, was certainly nothing that would make her want to shy away from him. In fact, she was finding that it was doing the exact opposite. That the glint, just like his smile, was bringing her closer. Like an invisible force, was pulling her right to him. And if she didn't know what the former forensic scientist had done, she would never have guessed that so many people had died because of the confused soul that lay behind his eyes.

"Champagne?" The Riddler suddenly enquired, as he took the bottle out of the ice bucket and poured the sparkling liquid into two tall glasses. The king of riddles smiling, as he held out one for (Y/n) to take.

"I.......oh, yes. Thank you." (Y/n) replied, as she took the flute from his hand. An exquisite shiver moving through her entire body, as his fingers brushed over hers.

"You look beautiful, by the way." Edward continued, as he took a seat across from her. (Y/n) unable to stop herself from blushing at yet another compliment.

"Thank you. I was going to wear this when I met Ed. So, I sort of thought that I should wear it when I met you. I mean, its only right. You are still.......well, not that you are Ed, but you are sort of........I mean, you're the Riddler but........" (Y/n) rambled, as she dropped her gaze to look at the scarlet material that covered her legs. Not sure what else there really was to say. Not sure that what she was trying to say was right or wrong. Not sure if she said something that the man across from her didn't like, whether she would end up as the crime boss' next victim. She didn't mean to insult him by saying that he was still Ed, far from it. But she had to confess that she didn't really know what to call him, never mind anything else.

She had fallen in love with a voice on the line. It was stupid, she knew that, but Ed had made it impossible for her not to. He was sweet and kind and wonderful. He made her laugh and think as he asked her his riddles. He had made her feel special, when no one had ever really made her feel special before. And she hadn't been able to stop herself from wanting to see him. From wanting to get to know him in person. To hope that maybe he might feel the same for her, as she did for him. But now, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know whether this was Ed, the Riddler, or maybe even both. He had the same voice that was true. He did appear as attentive and nice as Ed. And there was no denying that she found him quite, well if she was going to be completely honest, very attractive. His mere presence making her heart race. Yet was this man the one that she really wanted? She had imagined herself in a normal kind of relationship with Ed. The sort of thing that involved living happily ever after in a little home. A home that might even eventually welcome the pitter patter of tiny feet. Yet surly, that dream would be impossible with this version of Ed. He was after all, a wanted man. A criminal, a killer. Some even saying that he was insane. But (Y/n) sort of had to figure, that everyone was a little insane in their own ways. Our insanity in an insane world, the only thing that kept us sane. This was after all, Gotham. She had done her best to avoid the stories of the Riddler in the press and on the news, so that she didn't have the memory of Ed tainted. So perhaps now, now that she was sat with him, she should give him a chance to tell her things from his point of view. To tell her what had made the seemingly quite normal Ed, become the man that now sat with her. To actually tell her firsthand, without all the distortions and liberties that she was sure the press and GCPD would take with his story, the truth.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't......I don't know........"

"Its alright." Riddler interrupted. The professional criminal reaching up and taking her chin in the palm of his hand. Raising (Y/n)'s head so that he could look into her eyes. His thumb carefully brushing away the single tear that trickled down her cheek.

Riddler had to confess he was glad that Ed had fallen in love with a voice on the line. It may seem stupid to others, but (Y/n) had made it impossible for Ed not to. And that feeling had remained with him despite all the other changes that had happened in his life. To his world, and his own persona. (Y/n) was sweet and kind and wonderful. She had laughed along with him. Encouraging him when Ed had told her all his best riddles. She had managed to make him feel special, when the rest of the world had treated him as though he were nothing. When he had felt like the whipping boy for every fool in the city and precinct. And that was why he still wanted to meet her. To get to know her in person. To hope that the beautiful voice on the line might feel the same for him, as he did for her. But now, as he looked into her unsure eyes, the Riddler wasn't sure if he turned around for one moment, whether she would run for the door. Not that he could blame her for not knowing whether he was Ed, the Riddler, or maybe even both. He had the same voice that was true. He was trying to be as attentive as Ed had been. But could she see passed his actions, passed what the world would have others believe, to the man beneath? Riddler knew that Ed had imagined himself in a normal kind of relationship with (Y/n). The sort of thing that involved living the fantasy of happily ever after, in a little home that they could be proud of, a long way from the dirty city. A home that might even eventually welcome the pitter patter of tiny feet. Yet surly, that dream would be impossible now. He was after all, a wanted man. A criminal, a killer. Riddler quite aware that he might be, what some may call, not in his right mind. But Ed had always sort of had to figure that everyone was a little insane in their own ways. Our insanity in an insane world, the only thing that kept us sane. This was after all, Gotham. So, if Edward could make (Y/n) see that. If she would give him a chance to tell her things from his point of view. To tell her what had made him turn from the kind and caring Ed to the man that now sat with her. To actually tell her the truth, firsthand, without all the distortions and liberties that the press and the GCPD had taken with his story. Then Riddler had a feeling that they could have a new version of that fantasy. That the little house, would instead be a palace. And (Y/n) would be his queen.

"Dance with me? Please." Edward said quietly, as he got to his feet, and offered (Y/n) his hand. A large smile spreading across his lips, as she took the hand, and allowed him to help her to her feet. The beautiful voice, placing her head on his chest, as they began to move slowly to the music.

"We have all night to get to know one another again, (Y/n). To talk. For now, let's just dance." Riddler added. His smile never leaving his lips, as he felt (Y/n) nod.