Dr. Jonathan Crane (nowfearthis) wrote in roguesgallery, @ 2009-08-17 19:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | jonathan crane, pamela isley |
Who: Dr. Jonathan Crane and Dr. Pamela Isley
When: August 14th; 1:30pm
Where: Arkham Asylum; Interview Room
What: Crane goes to meet Arkham's newest guest and strikes a deal.
Rating: PG
There was no reason for him to be heading down to the minimal security wing himself; any of the interns would have been able to handle assessing their new guest, but Jonathan was curious. Not to mention the inmate he had been scheduled to see in fifteen minutes was now under heavy sedation for attempting to attack a guard during inspection. So, free time.
He nodded to the orderly who was waiting for him to unlock the door, and then stepped far enough inside that it could be shut behind him. The folder he was carrying was flipped open, and he scanned the first page before glancing at the woman in front of him.
"Pamela Isley," he said absently, looking back down at the forms again. Hmm. "I'm Dr. Crane; this shouldn't take very long."
"Dr. Crane," Pam echoed back politely. At least getting led here by the orderlies had been a nice change of pace from sitting in her cell. She was behaving to the best of her ability, trying to weasel her way to an early release. Unfortunately, the only doctor who seemed to care enough to be on her side was Harley, and she was quickly learning that Dr. Quinzel was at the very bottom of the food chain at Arkham. "Did you have some questions for me?"
She rubbed her hands over her knees, reminding herself that they could only keep her for another twenty-four hours.
He made his way to the empty chair opposite her and sat down, stiffly. "Yes," he said slowly, lying the folder on the table top and smoothing out the pages, "I do." He folded his hands on top of the papers and studied her face.
"I'd like to know why, exactly, you were sitting out there. I don't have a lot of time to watch the news, but your file and Dr. Quinzel tell me that it has something to do with protesting the dumping of toxic waste. I just find it interesting that you would choose that particular spot; surely there are worse places?"
Pam relaxed a bit. Somehow from this man she'd expected something more probing. Perhaps it was just the general creepy mad scientist vibe that he radiated. "Well, the dumping ground is fairly bad in terms of toxicity, but at the same time I wanted it to be surprising to people--a wake up call to Gotham, if you will. And that spot is obscure. It doesn't look a bit as toxic as it is, and it's in an ignored spot, though it does have an effect on the water supply."
Crane raised an eyebrow. "You expected a different sort of question, didn't you?" He almost chuckled. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you, Miss Isley; I just think the police didn't have anywhere else to put you." He smiled at her. Sort of. "Sitting on toxic waste doesn't mean you're mentally ill; it means you have poor judgment, or that you crave attention. Your stay here will certainly bring you that." Even more than an attractive woman trying to poison herself to death slowly. "I'd say you picked the perfect spot to catch Gotham's eye."
"So you...just stopped by out of curiosity?" Pam blinked, quirking her head to the side. "I'm sorry, it's just that, Harley gave me the impression that you're very important around here, and...I thought you were here to analyze me. Or something."
"You could say that, and Dr. Quinzel is correct; I am rather important here. Generally speaking, I should be here to 'analyze' you, as you put it, but I don't see a real need for that. This whole mess is simply political, isn't it? They don't want people looking too closely, and it isn't as if you were hurting anyone but yourself by sitting there. The police may be a little disappointed that you weren't diagnosed with anything, but I'm sure they'll get over it soon enough." Jonathan offered her another awkward smile, and then looked down at her file again, flipping through the pages.
"It says here you're a botanist..." If he was lucky, he'd done a fair enough job at playing nice that she might answer a few unrelated questions for him.
"Yes, I am," Pam nodded, even daring a little smile of her own. "Walking, talking hippie stereotype."
"I was wondering if, perhaps, you might take a look at something for me?" he asked, reaching into the pocket on the inside of his jacket and pulling out a small plastic bag. Inside were three tiny brown seeds. He slid the bag across the table towards her. "Would you happen to recognize those? It's a long shot, certainly, but I haven't had much luck looking on my own."
The effect was immediate. Pam perked, leaning over the table and picking up the bag. She held it within her palm, inspecting it from every which way as she tried to get a good spot of light in the room. "I think I have an idea of what family these are from..."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow; that was fast. "Really? I was thinking about attempting to grow them, but I have to admit I'm not the best with plants. I had hoped to find out what sort they were in the event that they required some sort of special treatment."
"Papaveraceae, the poppy family..." Pam recited by rote. Maybe another family of plant, and she wouldn't have been so familiar with the look of the seeds. However, most flowers in this family had a low toxicity level, which meant they'd of course been in Jason's study. He had had to keep her out of hospitals during that testing period. A college student with opiates in her blood was nothing they would have taken lightly. "I'd have to do more tests to be sure. For a home gardener...well you'd have a 50/50 shot of them taking. Depending on their climate. I don't know that they're for an amateur gardener...."
"I had figured as much, considering how, up until now, I hadn't been able to find out anything about them. Even so, I don't have many options, unless I just want to keep seeds sitting around for the rest of my life." He wasn't sure if they seeds would produce the same effect, but he didn't have enough of them to do any tests on; finding three had been hard enough. If he wanted to find out anything more how how the toxin worked, he needed for them to grow.
"I could help," Pam offered, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. Plants were better than pets, better than children, to her. To get the chance to grow something so potentially exotic, in the privacy of her own home! "If you're comfortable with it, I mean. I just...I was taught techniques and worked summers in a nursery in high school."
"How could I pass up such a generous offer?" he asked with another little used smile. Things were progressing better than he'd let himself hope for, really. He reached out to take the bag back from her; if she kept it now, someone would most likely confiscate it, and neither of them wanted that, did they? "I'll make sure these get back to you before you leave. Perhaps I can do you a favor as well."
Pam raised an eyebrow. Was he offering to sign release papers? That would be a boon, but she couldn't expect so much. "I'm not sure what you're thinking of giving me..."
"You're a smart woman; what's the one thing you want that I am able to give you?" He closed the folder and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Smirk. "There's no reason for you to stay here any longer than you already have. I might even be a little offended that the police decided to foist you upon us, as if we didn't have a need for this room ourselves. Did you know some of the cells down the hall have been flooding?" Innocent~
Pam smirked, and right then and there, she decided she liked Dr. Crane. Maybe it had been in his cards all along to show her those seeds, but that was a favor she was happy to oblige. It benefited them both, and now he was fully prepared to break the rules when they were illogical and didn't suit his purpose. "You'd really sign the release papers?"
"Yes, I would; you aren't a danger to yourself or others, and I see no legitimate reason to keep you here any longer. Arkham is an institution for the mentally ill, not a warehouse for people the police don't want to deal with." He wasn't making that part up. True, if it hadn't been for the destruction of the hospital, she would have been sent there, but even that was just an excuse to pack her away for awhile.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane. It's a huge relief..." Pam smiled wide, staring down at her hands in her lap. "I think if I'd had to stay here another night I might have gone crazy."
"That would have been unfortunate." Jonathan stood, pushing the chair in and grabbing the file folder off the table. "I'll do my best to get you out of here before rush hour, shall I?" Paperwork was notoriously slow, however, so he'd probably have to start breathing down some necks.
"I'd love that," Pam smiled, standing when the doctor stood. She couldn't leave until the orderlies got her, but it was a matter of respect and gratitude. "Thank you."