Professor Fear (the sequel) - Jonathan Crane

Chapter 18

Drearily, Daria Morrison trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, similarly retracing Jonathan's footsteps from hours before.

The French press and the light blue mug stood upside-down on the drying rack, ready to be put away in their home; the cupboard just above the sink.

As the house was empty, the woman felt that she could freely wonder around just wearing her underwear. Unknowingly, she copied the behaviour of her housemate and began to make a strong coffee that would pull away the slumber that clung to her so tightly.

The taste touched her tongue and she couldn't help but take a deep breath, satisfied. The good night's sleep had revitalised her from the stressful socialising of the night before. She took the mug on a trip to the bedroom where she searched for her outfit for the day – or whatever was left of it.

The bedside clock read 12pm. Thankfully today was not a work day. Structure, therefore, was not so necessary.
The woman returned to the kitchen and perched herself on the counter. Briefly the memory of the last time she was on the counter – having a heated moment with Jonathan- passed through her mind, making her briefly smile.

"Do I want to have a fancy breakfast at the corner café or do I want to have veggies on toast," Daria asked the brew cradled in her hands.

"Treat yourself honey,"

"Mother of fuck!" Daria, much to her dismay, choked on her coffee and spat it back into the mug. The voice had come from the letter-slot on the front door which was temporarily propped open.
She tip-toed over and looked through the peephole.
Glamorous as ever, Poison Ivy... or Pamela Isly, smiled back at her.
Perhaps it was because Ivy was a woman, or maybe it was Daria's feeling of comfort from her that made her open the door. Pamela Isly was a friend of Jonathan, wasn't she?

"I just wanted to drop by after the party and see how you were getting on."

"really? That sounds a bit too colloquial for our situation,"

"Awh look at the confidence you have when you're in a controlled setting," She happily took off the boots she had been wearing and stepped, barefoot, into the kitchen. "The girls and I were worried Jonathan had you drinking tubs of his toxin when we met you last night." She then glanced suggestively at the mug that was seemingly glued to Daria's hand. The same mug, seconds later, was being washed in the sink after the drinker remembered that it was half coffee half spit.

"I was just unsettled by the environment and the...Joker," She watched as Ivy subconsciously ran her hands through her long red hair, braiding it loosely. After every few touches, a small yellow flower would appear, with its stem curling into the braid.

"Ah yes he can be a bit forward can't he," She underexaggerated. "When news spread about you in the 'greater rogues' community he took a bit of fascination to your story."

"Who started the rumor?" The question still burned in her mind.
"Oh Sweetheart it's hardly a rumour. It's the truth."
"Well who opened their mouth about it?
"Who knew about it?"
"Jonathan, Myself and possibly Ed Nygma,"

"Looks to me like you are answering your own question Sweetheart," Ivy leaned back against the counter.
"So, in response to my question: You have no idea."
"Oh of course I know, Its just important for you to come to your own conclusions...it's a big bad world out there Daria,"

Daria's mind flashed back to Edward knowing her name during their first phone conversation. At the time Edward claimed he came to the knowledge by his own accords rather than Jonathan telling him. Of course, and perhaps biasedly, Daria refused to see Jonathan as the man to blame.

"Anyway, I didn't come here just to be cryptic," Ivy stood back up. "When you feel more integrated with the family, you should come join the sirens," she moved to the door.

"There's no catch?" Daria asked hesitantly whilst trying to hide the excitement.

"All you need is a pretty face and a skill which will help in accomplishing our goals," She insisted. In this case 'goals' was a very polite term for 'crime'. "See you soon Daria," She slipped through the door and shut it. Once again Daria's mind fluttered to Edward Nygma as being the man who spread around that she was 'Jonathan's porcelain doll, shattered from a great fall' as she'd over heard Jervis Tetch whisper to someone at the party. The 'fall' may have been a reference to when the toxin had really gripped her the last time.

Unusually determined to get answers as soon as possible, Daria pulled her boots on and grabbed her keys and phone. It was time to take a trip to Edward Nygma's place again.