The Fear Dissertation // A Jonathan Crane Dark Romance

53

"Sienna."

Harleen takes my hands in her own. Her eyes are wide behind her glasses, almost petrified.

My focus completely slips away from my testimony, from the trial, as I realise something's up. I glance around at the people filing past us into the courtroom and pull Harleen to one side, out of the way. Beside a wall.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Don't send him to Blackgate," she begs me in a whisper. "Please don't."

I blink. "Harleen—"

"This isn't about my feelings. Even though I don't deny I have them. It's just..." She swallows. "He's making real progress at Arkham. Surely you see that? The last tweak to his medication, his DBT... he's changing, Sienna. I know he is. He's not the same man that arrived."

I look at Harleen for a long moment. "It's not like you to ask me for anything," I tell her quietly. "Baby photos and mocktail recipes maybe, but not... Not things like this."

"Please," She whispers. "I'll repay you. However I can."

"God, no more favours," I grimace. "Don't worry about that, Harleen."

"So you'll do it?" She pleads.

I don't let my frustration show on my face. I don't even consider all the statements I'll need to re-write, the extra documents I'll need to submit, the clusterfuck of a headache it's going to be to change my mind at this point of the process. The fact the Joker could very well be manipulative enough to be counting on the fact Jonathan and I pieced together his true desire to go to Blackgate.

If we're even right about that. There are so many layers to motives and counter-motives with the Joker, I'd have more luck tossing a coin.

Harleen's made the decision for me.

"I was going to recommend it anyway," I lie, squeezing her hands. Trying to protect her.

She smiles. Lurches at me, wrapping me in a hug. "You're the best friend ever," she chokes out. "Even if your stomach's getting too big to hug you properly."

"I wish I could blame the baby, but it's probably all the Thai food," I groan.

She laughs. "Hey, did that IT guy end up fixing the database errors?"

"I really hope so," I say. "It's a miracle I was able to pull the Joker's files at all."

Harleen smiles shyly. "I have his number, if you want to find out."

"Harleen! You got the IT guy's number?"

"He wrote it on a piece of paper for me. I kept it just in case," she shrugs, as we rejoin the crowd moving into the courtroom.

"Are you gonna call him?"

Her nose wrinkles. "Ew, no. But I didn't want to turn him down until the job was done."

We take our seats. I don't miss the light flush across Harleen's cheeks as she sneaks a glance at the Joker, sat up the front and more immaculately presented than I've ever known him in a black tuxedo-like suit. I wonder for a moment what angle he could possibly be going for, before reminding myself I'll never work it out and shouldn't extend the energy trying.

I go to turn my phone off, and see a message from Jonathan.

Good luck, dearest. I'm so proud of you, and our son.

My lips lift into a smile. You're going to pretend like you aren't stalking me through the window right now?

He replies. I never denied the fact.

The Judge enters and I turn off my phone. Take a deep breath. Prepare myself for the day.

***

I sit sideways across Jonathan's lap in the movie theatre of his home. Hitchcock's film plays in black and white across the large screen, violins screech, and blood splatters across the walls. I chew popcorn, finally at peace after a long day.

"You did well today, Sienna," Jonathan murmurs, stroking my hair. "I'm proud of you."

"I worried you'd be mad about my recommendation," I say quietly.

"Of course not. The Joker is clearly insane."

"But I might get killed for saying so rather than lying."

His grip on me tightens. "You're not going to be harmed in any way. Maybe we should move you into the spare room after all."

I glance at him incredulously. "The one with restraints to keep me tied up?"

"The one designed to keep you safe," he counters smoothly.

"I've already told you. We're not doing that. I cut off the restraints and dropped them in Sylvester's enclosure."

"I have spares."

"Harleen will come looking for me."

"Good. She can keep you company while I find anyone threatening to harm you and peel off their fingernails."

His voice is soft as silk, his eyes heavy in the dim light. I run my fingers through his hair, unable to help myself. Tug absent-mindlessly at the ends. His lips part slightly and his eyes darken as he looks at me.

His gaze intensifies as my fingers play with his hair, until he takes me by the jaw and crashes our lips together. The taste of him, the feeling of him, sends jolts through my stomach and a low groan to my lips. Pregnancy hormones are freaking weird, I decide, as I practically hyperventilate beneath him. Pull him closer to me, draw my leg up until I'm sat upright in his lap, pinning him to the chair and desperate to feel him inside of me.

My phone chooses this moment to ring.

Jonathan pulls away, his eyes hungry and locked onto me. "You gonna get that?" He asks through heavy breaths.

I shake my head and he pulls me in close to make out again. The ringing stops and his hands slide up the back of my shirt and I can feel how hard he's growing beneath me —

The phone rings again. I sigh into his mouth and pull away, every part of my body aching for him.

"Maybe it's Harleen," I say, trying to pull myself back to reality for a moment.

I reach across the seats and pick up my phone. I vaguely recognise the number by the last two digits.

"It's the IT guy," I say. "I texted him earlier."

Jonathan's eyebrows raise. "You're going to leave me like this so you can talk to the IT guy?"

"Who said anything about leaving you?" I smile, wrapping my arms around Jonathan and hugging him as I answer the phone and bring it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Doctor Moore?"

"Not a doctor." I frown. "I just wanted to follow up on the database errors?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna give your head of security a call in the morning. It's not good, Doc—Miss Moore. I don't know how to tell you this."

My blood cools. "What is it?"

He pauses. "Those weren't true error codes. They were the by-product of a virus installed into your systems."

"Oh, damn," I mutter. "Did you manage to get it gone?"

"Yes, but... By then it was too late."

"What do you mean?"

I glance at Jonathan. He's deadly still, his perfect blue eyes staring at me as he listens to the conversation.

"They got into everything. Every file. Every note. They seemed to be targeting you specifically, Miss Moore... You and Doctor Crane. They've wiped you completely clean. Including your dissertation."