A/N: You can see how many of my Author's Notes are/probably will be around the same, and I may start to copy and paste them. Being said, it doesn't allow me to own any characters (unless stated otherwise) any more than normal.

Fandom: Gotham Pairing(s): Nygmobblepot (Nygma/Cobblepot)
Words: 900 Warning(s): slash; blatant murder scene

"City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style,"

The shadowy mafia don and mayor of Gotham hobbles down the sidewalks as he hears a old tape play cheerful Christmas music. It scratches and gives up, and then the bell starts. Off-key singing replaces the tape, causing the man to grumble to himself as he pushes through the wind threatening to knock him down.

"You okay, Boss?" His faithful bodyguard is at his side, wide eyes tinted with worry.

"Perfectly fine, Victor." The man growls, shoving away.

He continues down the street, resisting to listen to the slurred words of a classic holiday song. He just has another block and a cross a street corner, and he will be home free. Victor is not far behind him, keeping a wary finger on the tip of the pistol tucked under his belt.

"Chi'dren laugh'n, pe'p'l pass'n,"

The garbled voice screeches the butchered lines for all to hear. As the man befitting the nickname Penguin rounds the next corner, he spies the dreadful source of the obnoxious tunes. On the corner he needs to cross is a man wearing a red-and-white iconic Santa suit. The suit itself is stained in muddy waters, revolting dried vomit and possible piss. The shambling man tries his best to pass him by.

" .'ver bells, Si'ver bells, Is Chi'mas time, in G'th'm City!"

To one side of the Santa, there is an old rusted pan barely filling with others' chump change and spare crumpled dollars from time to time. It looks as though it had previously been second-handed as a chamber pot. To the other side is a cosmic waste, most likely produced by this particular Santa. It has since frozen over, but the mayor is far too disgusted. He scrunches up his face as he advances. He pays no attention to the ghastly way Santa looks or the appalling way he sounds. Instead, his sense are immediately drawn to the unspeakable odor emanating from the man in costume. Endeavoring his absolute hardest to completely disregard said stench, Santa waves his bell in front of the other man's face.

"Iffin it ain't th' May'r o' Goth'm. G've some char'ty?"

The man of power rolls his eyes but stills his movement. He glances over to his trustworthy guardian with a nod. The taller excitable man reaches for his gun, jabbing it toward the Santa. This motion merely makes his employer massage the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh. His other hand stretches out, making the 'stop' motion.

"Put it away, Victor. Give this man some money."

The eager man frowns in disappointment but obeys. He lowers his weapon and then reaches into his pocket for some change. He pulls out a couple pennies and a nickel, holding them out in his hand for his boss to inspect. He nods with another sigh and Victor drops the money into the pot. The two men start crossing the street when Santa's whiny voice stops the mayor in his tracks.

"That all I gets?"

"Excuse me?" He swivels on his good leg's heel, angrily charging back. "Do you know who I am?" At the Santa's blinking nod, he scowls toward him and grips tighter on his new umbrella. "What is my name?"

"Yep, yep," Santa chuckles. "Cablepuss."

"Cobblepot." He hardens his glare, invading Santa's personal space. "All I wanted was to go home. I gave you what you wanted, but everyone is just too damn greedy." He catches his employee's gaze from the corner of his eye. "Victor, raise the music."

Victor smiles materialistically as he blasts the music that had been skipping earlier. He plays an alternate tape as Mayor Cobblepot brandishes an already stained dagger. For the first time, the man in costume realizes his mistake. He holds his hands up in protest, but Oswald is unrelenting. He stabs the man numerous times. As they fall onto the corner, he glowers into the bearded man's face.

"Y'know, I never really liked Santa. Some fat man dropping into your house while you're in bed asleep. Deciding who's naughty and who's nice. I hated it."

He pulls out his knife to stab the man's throat. He pulls that out as well as Santa's garbled breath and foamy, bloodied vomit begins to surface. He wipes some stains off in the snow and pockets the knife. Victor helps him stand and they return home. He sends Victor to clean off the knife and keep the housemaids away and he ventures to his study. One man is already at the desk, looking rather pensive.

"Good evening, Ed."

"Oswald!"

He leaps up in excitement, running over to his undisclosed boyfriend of three months with open arms. Just prior to welcoming him in a large embrace, he pauses to inspect the shorter man's face.

"Is that blood?"

Oswald raises an eyebrow and touches his face. When he draws back, he nods. "Yes."

"Whose is it?" Ed is easily frightened.

"Santa's."

"Santa?" Ed is shocked. "The man who brings toys to kids at night? That Santa?"

Oswald rolls his eyes. "No, the Santa who dresses like a rabbit and shoots arrows at little kids eating pumpkin pie."

Ed holds up a hand, counting the references Oswald has just dropped. "Easter, Valentine's Day, either Hallo"

"Ed! It doesn't matter."

"Right. Did anyone see? Did anyone hear?"

"No, Victor turned th music up."

"The Santa on the street corner who begs for change all the time?"

"Yes, Ed."

"Oh. Care for some eggnog?" He suddenly wields two mugs of the creamy delight.

Oswald raises an eyebrow. "And it's ONLY eggnog?"

Victor walks by. He sticks a finger in the already-sipped one, swiping the other away. He tastes the drop from his finger and hands the mug to Oswald.

"Spiked with vodka."

Ed gapes a little at Victor, then shakes his head. He must really get used to that. A small grin appears on Oswald's lips, raising the mug in a toasting fashion. Ed cheers him and they take a drink. Victor sits on the small recliner as Ed and Oswald share a love seat by the fireplace. They sit in silence for a while before Ed sets his drink down beside Oswald's and pipes up.

"Isn't it bad luck to murder Santa Claus just three days before Christmas?"

Victor glances over with an incredulous look, with only a bit more spite than Oswald. However, Victor simply takes his flask out and shakes his head. Oswald orders Ed to shut up, and then forces it by pulling on his boyfriend's short and lowering him into a holiday kiss.

[][][][ Sorry 'bout the outcome of this. I really do love Gotham and can only hope and wish Ed will come to his frickety-frackin' senses in January. He doesn't REALLY want to END OSWALD. He wants to END OSWALD'S LONELINESS, meaning TRULY become NYGMOBBLEPOT. I've just been having mood swings today. It's been a hectic day. Day 44. ][][][]