Hello! First little story is loosely based off one of my dreams and pushed into life by my own Penguin. Thank you for reading! ~Catclass
The dark, puddle ridden streets of Gotham slipped across the reflective windows to the esteemed Mayor's limousine as it crept through the night. Should they have looked hard enough, any homeless beggar would have seen, not the Mayor himself, but his number two, Edward Nygma. His glasses would shine from the dingy streetlights leaving them to wonder whether he stared back with that eerie, tight lipped smile.
Of course, he knew it. Mr. Nygma liked watching them as he passed. Breaking their life story down with as little observation as possible was one of his current favorite pass times. It also helped to keep records of the homeless community's growth and "grooming".
A quick, sharp sigh escaped Ed's lips every time he did something for his Mayor that went unnoticed.
Mayor Oswald Cobblepot was good as both head of Gotham City and Gotham's Underworld. However, as Augustus Caesar was in need of his friend Marcus Agrippa, Oswald was in need of Ed. They both knew it and their relationship grew from it. The GCPD hadn't needed his genius, but the Penguin did. His Penguin did.
The long, black vehicle came to a stop in front of a deserted, tall building. It had once been used to process and can fish caught just down the dock from here. Sadly, no one wants to eat fish from this water anymore.
Mr. Nygma grinned proudly as the memory of chemicals and percentages once proven to be in those mucky waters danced across his thoughts. Men came out of the old cannery to grab his luggage from the trunk and carry it inside. Fresh, black gloves covered Mr. Nygma's long, masculine fingers as he watched the groomed men.
The luggage was hung up in the middle of the long room; old, rusted hooks for storing large fish seemed to decorate this area. The building's high ceiling called for metal framing just above ten feet to support such hooks and chains. It had to be properly opened and searched for any information. Trusting such a task to anyone else would have come as an insult seeing as the information dealt with Jim Gordon and GCPD. In fact, this particular piece was from the Gotham Police Force.
Hours spent digging and combing through the luggage and its information left Mr. Nygma feeling almost foolish. It seemed everything that could be pulled from it, had been found within the first thirty minutes. The rest of the time was simply him double and triple checking all of his findings. Three hours needlessly lost and he would just barely have dinner ready.
The tall man carefully put his gloves in a bag to be destroyed before returning to the ominous limousine. The groomed men stayed behind to prepare the poor cop for tomorrow's soup for the homeless. They knew which pieces were worth eating and which should be turned to ash. After all, they would be partaking in the feast.
This prompted Mr. Nygma to order a fast return to the manor; he had a feast to prepare for his Mayor. Tonight, he would be preparing ham for Oswald as Ed, amongst other side dishes and fresh rolls.
Time ticked away from his wrist watch; Oswald would be home soon and Ed had just finished scoring the meat. That maid of his had barely assisted by transferring the lesser pieces and setting the table. He would be done thirty nine minutes behind schedule thanks to this behemoth ham. Ed pushed his glasses back into place before covering the chunk of meat in brown sugar. His long fingers massaged the grains into the scored flesh so that it could dissolve from the ham's natural juices. The rest of the packed sugar became drenched with pineapple and its own translucent juices.
Suddenly, Ed turned rigid at the foreign hands that slid around his waist. Small, bony hands approximately matching the hand size of the one and only Oswald Cobblepot gripped at the hidden green dress shirt below his black apron. The taller man chuckled at his boss's antics when a sudden soft pressure against his back suggested to the Mayor having chosen to rest his head there. Soft mumbles could be heard, but the second in command could not make out the muffled voice.
Hands still dripping in pineapple juice and brown sugar, Ed turned his head and slightly pulled away from his clinging superior. A single brow rose in question to prompt the black haired crime lord to repeat himself, an honor only he possessed. Tired, blue eyes met his own brown ones as Oswald softly smiled. Holding his hands out of the way, Ed offered his other half a little encouragement with a light kiss.
Those crystalline blue eyes fluttered back open with renewed confidence and he spoke the most dangerous words Edward Nygma knew.
"I love you."