InsaneJournal

After nearly a decade of this 'on the run' business, the art of desperately trying to escape an entire police force was getting more than a little bit stale. It had never been much fun to begin with, but nowadays it was just plain tedious.

Jonathan Crane yanked the lapels of his worn tweed jacket forward, concealing as much of his profile as humanly possible. He had been separated from his henchgirls in downtown Central City in the dead of night. The Flash had been thoroughly distracted by the girls and their newly acquired quantum-something-or-other (as if he had been paying attention to their babble? Not likely) accelorator suits. They weren't faster than the scarlet speedster--not by a long shot--but they were fast enough to be a nuiciance of such magnitude that the Scarecrow was able to slip away from the brawl.