Dr. Crane (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} dr_crane) wrote,@ 2008-04-23 17:46:00 |
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aumuses: Why?
Why.
Why hadn't Harry come up with something else in order to meet?
Why was he dressed in some stupid outfit for the event?
Why was that woman staring at him in the way that she currently was as he made his way inside?
Why was he even here?
Of all those questions, he had the answer to just one of them; that last one as to why he was where he was. At some stupid charity event, where he'd rather watch and be amused at people's shallowness and blatant stupidity rather than being actually involved in the auction himself. He wouldn't back down, though; not showing up hadn't been an option. Not after Mr. Osborn had gotten ahead in their little game, and his toy had managed to take him by surprise with the knowledge of a sister. A sister that he had been in touch with already, while he himself hadn't even been aware of it. That was certainly a bit of news that he was still trying to swallow down.
Tonight, though, it wasn't about that. It was about...an action. He, Jonathan Crane, was actually at an auction to bid on someone.
"Are you here accompanying your wife?" a woman suddenly asked him as he reached for one of the flutes of champagne being offered. A woman, he noticed, who seemed to be in her mid fifties, and was at the event to find someone that could make her feel young again.
That was, at least, Crane's assessment as he glanced her over. How her hair was fixed, the jewels she was wearing, the designer dress... All of them to make an attempt at feeling young. She still needed some botox to accomplish that particular task, he thought dryly as he plastered a small polite smile on his face. "No, I'm not. She's at home. Preferred to stay in, so maybe I can find someone for her tonight, hm?"
She laughed then in that fake, shrilly laughter that made his blood curl as she assumed he was joking, but he covered it up by taking a sip of the champagne. Count to ten. Count to a hundred. Spraying someone with toxins in public would give away the fact that Dr. Crane has been hiding in Manhattan while he was still wanted in Gotham. "And how about you, Mrs--"
"Miss Scott."
"Ah, right," Crane drawled with a nod, already imagining Harry snickering wherever he was in the building. "How rude of me."
"It's a charity event, of course. Anything for a good cause."
Another sip, and the way the woman smiled at him made him want to either choke Harry Osborn for putting him in this situation, or the woman for being so annoying and not taking a hint that he didn't want to talk to her. That he didn't even want to be here. It was difficult to guess which one he'd choke first if given the chance.
"So, Mr..."
Even if she trailed off, waiting for him to introduce himself, he cut her off. "I think the auction's about to start. Maybe instead of buying someone for my wife I'll buy someone for myself. I need to find a way to entertain myself tonight, so if you'd excuse me..."
Judging by the look on her face as he walked away, he knew he was going to have some fierce competition for Osborn. But Crane was used to getting what he wanted, and there was no way around that; that woman, and even Harry himself would see that.
Why.
Why hadn't Harry come up with something else in order to meet?
Why was he dressed in some stupid outfit for the event?
Why was that woman staring at him in the way that she currently was as he made his way inside?
Why was he even here?
Of all those questions, he had the answer to just one of them; that last one as to why he was where he was. At some stupid charity event, where he'd rather watch and be amused at people's shallowness and blatant stupidity rather than being actually involved in the auction himself. He wouldn't back down, though; not showing up hadn't been an option. Not after Mr. Osborn had gotten ahead in their little game, and his toy had managed to take him by surprise with the knowledge of a sister. A sister that he had been in touch with already, while he himself hadn't even been aware of it. That was certainly a bit of news that he was still trying to swallow down.
Tonight, though, it wasn't about that. It was about...an action. He, Jonathan Crane, was actually at an auction to bid on someone.
"Are you here accompanying your wife?" a woman suddenly asked him as he reached for one of the flutes of champagne being offered. A woman, he noticed, who seemed to be in her mid fifties, and was at the event to find someone that could make her feel young again.
That was, at least, Crane's assessment as he glanced her over. How her hair was fixed, the jewels she was wearing, the designer dress... All of them to make an attempt at feeling young. She still needed some botox to accomplish that particular task, he thought dryly as he plastered a small polite smile on his face. "No, I'm not. She's at home. Preferred to stay in, so maybe I can find someone for her tonight, hm?"
She laughed then in that fake, shrilly laughter that made his blood curl as she assumed he was joking, but he covered it up by taking a sip of the champagne. Count to ten. Count to a hundred. Spraying someone with toxins in public would give away the fact that Dr. Crane has been hiding in Manhattan while he was still wanted in Gotham. "And how about you, Mrs--"
"Miss Scott."
"Ah, right," Crane drawled with a nod, already imagining Harry snickering wherever he was in the building. "How rude of me."
"It's a charity event, of course. Anything for a good cause."
Another sip, and the way the woman smiled at him made him want to either choke Harry Osborn for putting him in this situation, or the woman for being so annoying and not taking a hint that he didn't want to talk to her. That he didn't even want to be here. It was difficult to guess which one he'd choke first if given the chance.
"So, Mr..."
Even if she trailed off, waiting for him to introduce himself, he cut her off. "I think the auction's about to start. Maybe instead of buying someone for my wife I'll buy someone for myself. I need to find a way to entertain myself tonight, so if you'd excuse me..."
Judging by the look on her face as he walked away, he knew he was going to have some fierce competition for Osborn. But Crane was used to getting what he wanted, and there was no way around that; that woman, and even Harry himself would see that.