So, I'm a fanfic writer in retirement. Gotham- namely Oswald- is making me want to venture a bit further into fic again. Therefore, presented to you all is a piece that I have written up tonight as an excerpt of an Oswald/Fish Mooney origin story of sorts. Do please tell me what you think. I can handle flames. This may or may not be a one-shot, depending on feedback.

-S.D.

The boy was beautiful; there was no denying that. Petite, fine-boned, with a beauty that did not meet the most conventional terms; where one Adonis looks like another, and he unto his brother, and so on. His prettiness defied social convention but was just as striking, if not more so, than the masses of models that showed their bodies, identities, and souls for perfumes, clothing, billboards, magazines. Gotham was certainly full of them. But this creature, perhaps not halfway through his twenties, was odd, indeed- possessed with a striking Roman nose, an air of exoticness to his features (Europe? Eastern Europe?), and pale eyes that seemed to be nowhere and everywhere at once- and yet not off-putting to most, preferred of extravagantly tailored suits and having an air about him that defied his insecurity and passivity. Perhaps it was part of the weakness, the fragility that he showed on the outside, which made him so disarming, and yet so possibly dangerous.

Fish Mooney, despite the guard she kept about her like a pet lioness, saw this in Oswald Cobblepot. She saw it the second she was introduced to him on the street, doing the lowest level work for the lowest level people. Even then, the boy had maintained an impressive amount of grace despite his dishevelment and often-bruised features, and it was obvious that he knew the concept of humility well. As Mooney saw him ever more frequently, never once had this boy defied any overseer, or even hinted at distaste while doing the more gruesome tasks ordered of him.

It was around this time that Mooney decided she wanted him for herself.

And why shouldn't she? She deserved the best; the finest gowns, the finest wine and spirits, the finest food, and, of course, the finest company. She sent a summons to Oswald on a Monday, and he came to her the very same day, to her office, prompt and respectful as ever she had seen him. Perhaps a bit more carefully groomed. He seemed nervous outwardly, but Fish Mooney had a good eye, and she caught the light spark in his eyes that just might have hinted at a willingness, if she squinted right, to do terrible things for this new promotion. It could have been the light, but for a moment she even thought she saw greed.

Despite herself, it turned her on.