It was bleak, the air brisk, and the sky was covered by grey storm clouds. This was a typical day in Gotham city; a place where murder and mayhem never sleep and the innocents lay in bed wondering if they will awake in the morning. Yet to most this concrete jungle was home, and home is where the heart is as they say, he supposed one would need a heart to truly feel at home. This would explain why he was sitting in the back of a small country style diner, staring out the rain spattered window, he didn't truly feel at home anywhere.
This was not exactly something a King would say about his domain.
Oswald was the king of Gotham. Having worked his way to the top, starting as Fish Mooney's lowly assistant, to Maroni's one time-man, to being Falcone's spy; Oswald has bent over backwards for many, but he manipulated and fooled most, and with the deaths of his foes he climbed to the top. Oswald was a man that had everything, money, power, respect, loyalty; he never took advantage of his success because he knew all too well how quickly everything could be taken away.
"It's another gloomy day isn't it?" came a soft voice.
Oswald's head snapped to the side seeing a waitress standing at the end of his table; she gave him a small tired smile,
"sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" she said. Oswald shifted in his seat so he was sitting straight,
"It's quite alright, you did not startle me," he said. His gaze shifted from her hands upwards to her face. She was quite lovely, with pale skin and turquoise eyes, the red in her hair popped; the rings under eyes proved that she hadn't slept well in some time.
He knew that feeling all to well.
"But I would have to agree with you, it's truly gloomy outside" he added.
She smiled lightly "would you like to know a secret?"
Oswald raised an eyebrow but his intrigue was peeked,
"Regale me, please," he said.
The waitress leaned over and looked around as if to see if anyone was listening in, she turned back, facing him, and said
"My mother always said the secret to a rainy day is hot coffee with a dash of chocolate, sweet yet refined."
She then stood up, holding her notepad to her chest; her cheeks began to redden as he sat their unresponsive. A smile began to tug at his lips; a light laugh escaped his lips,
"Your mother sounds like a very wise woman, perhaps I will have exactly that"
"She was pretty wise, I'll make you something special, It looks like you need a pick me up" with those words, the waitress turned on her heel and headed behind the front counter.
Oswald took the time to watch her leave. She was a lithe little thing, with short hair and wide hips; she stood no taller then 5'5". Many of the woman he knew were Amazonian in height and cobra in heart; it was refreshing to meet a woman smaller than he. The King of Gotham turned back to the window, watching his empire through rain-spattered glass.
Elizabeth reached for a wide-brim mug and saucer. She had noticed the man walk in from the rain, removing his fedora and closing his umbrella; he had walked with a limp to the far back of the diner and sat by the window. He was finely dressed, with well-kept black hair that stuck out from the paleness of his skin; his nose was sharp and his eyes were an iceberg blue. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't had a decent nights sleep in a long time.
Boy did she know what that felt like.
A familiar face appeared before her, a waitress with bleach blonde hair and plump lips, all of which came out of box, strictly Elizabeth's opinion however.
"havin' a rough day sweetheart?" her breathy coquettish voice was a thing of potential, it's too bad her face didn't have the same benefits.
Elizabeth shook her head,
"Just making something for a customer"
Ronda raised her eyebrow,
"Never see you make that for anyone else but yourself, got a high tipper?" she asked.
"Table 29" Elizabeth replied as she reached for the chocolate syrup and continued to drizzle the sweet syrup on top the foam of her rainy day special. She reached under the counter and grabbed a chocolate bar from her purse and cut up a few pieces to decorate the saucer.
Ronda paled as she looked to the back of the diner, expecting to see a handsome young man, but instead seeing not a man, but a monster.
"You know who that is right?" she asked.
Elizabeth turned around with her mug and saucer and stared at the stranger's table,
"He looks vaguely familiar but I don't know him" she said as she took a step, Ronda reached out and gripped her shoulder,
"that's Penguin, you know, the crime boss?"
Elizabeth widened her eyes and looked towards the pale young man.
"Just be careful Kitten, don't do or say anything stupid" she warned.
Elizabeth took a moment before taking her next step to the Penguin. Table 29 was a crime lord, never would have guessed it. Most people would begin to fret, unsure of their movements and words for fear of pissing him off. However, for Elizabeth, she was far too used to this city and it's dark underbelly to care. It was nothing poetic; Elizabeth just didn't give a shit. What other people do with their own time means nothing to her, why should she bother worrying about others when she had her own life to worry about. The Penguin was polite to her, and so long as he paid his bill, that's all that mattered. Stopping in front of his table, Elizabeth leaned over and placed the mug and saucer before him. Icy blue eyes casted downwards taking in his delectable treat; the corners of his lips tugged into a small smile,
"This looks wonderful, thank you" he said,
"I hope it's not too much, I always put chocolate sauce on mine so I didn't think to do something different on yours" she said. The man's eyebrows flew up and he shook his head,
"No, no, this is perfect, it was an excellent choice I assure you. I promise you I will enjoy it," he said with an eager smile.
Elizabeth grinned, a small blush forming on her cheeks, why? She couldn't say. It couldn't have been his smile, she got enough half-hearted smiles from her customers, or perhaps the heat was on too high. Regardless, Elizabeth sighed, trying to force her blush away.
"Good, I'm glad. Would you like me to take your order?" she asked.
Oswald Cobblepot took a moment to think, the soft blush forming on Elizabeth's cheeks distracted him, she was flustered, but why? He could not say but the redness was quite fetching on her, and he would be damned not to admire it.
Penguin was not a ladies man, by choice, nor was he a buyer of love, and woman never voluntarily came to his door; instead he kept to himself and filled his time with business. It was easier that way; to not pursue what evidently will become fruitless. Oswald pulled himself away from his thoughts.
" You seem to have made the perfect choice for my beverage so I trust that you will do the same for my meal. Tell me, what do you eat on a gloomy day?" he asked.
Elizabeth was surprised by his words.
"To be honest, I always go for childish comfort food, like French toast or tomato soup and a grilled cheese" she said, "I'm not entirely sure what you would like."
"There is nothing childish about something that brings you comfort" the Penguin looked me right in the eye as he spoke, somehow, right then, he appeared so much older; his eyes were weary and tired yet he stood up straight and still held an aura of intimidation about him. He picked up his menu and handed it to me.
"I'll have the rainy day special"
With a short nod Elizabeth went on her way leaving Oswald with his thoughts.
The Iceberg lounge was a mere month away from completion and his turf was quickly growing. The past year, with the death of his mother, he has become ruthless; people began to respect him, either out of fear or with genuine belief, and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Nothing in his life was given out of kindness, he would either have to fight for it, take it, or bring his foes to their knee's to negotiate a deal. Everyone wanted something; everyone wanted a piece of the Penguin. For so long he was a puppet, in someone else's scheme, but now he held the strings.
Oswald pondered on his life's work.
Elizabeth went from table to table filling coffee cups and taking dishes; it was not a glamorous life she led but it paid. Sometime soon she hoped to move onto bigger and better things; when would that be and how she would get there was unbeknownst to her, but she would get there, she knew it. Her mother once believed she would be a writer, or a painter, something grand and fulfilling. Her father on the other hand believed she would amount to nothing; she hasn't figured out which one was right. They would never know anyways. Death becomes us all and her mother and father had met their end years ago.
Elizabeth moved on, waiting on customers, and finally meeting an empty mug at the Penguin's table.
"I guessed you like it" she said as she reached for his mug. Oswald turned to look at her,
"Yes I did, very much so. I can see why you like to drink that on a day like this, I would love another."
Elizabeth merely smiled and nodded, taking the empty mug and headed straight behind the counter to fix his drink. The kitchen bell rang as Elizabeth turned around with mug in hand, it was a meal fit for a king, or at least she hoped it was.
"French toast with sliced banana's and a side of bacon; warm, greasy, and sweet, the perfect supper for a rainy day" Said the waitress as she leaned over, placing the plate before him. A smirk spread across his lips as the sweetness of maple wafted to his nose.
"You truly have a gift. The drink won the battle, but this," he said waving his hand over the plate, "won the war".
A small laugh escaped her lips as she witness the Penguin take his first bite,
"French toast can't be that good" she said.
Oswald swallowed and sighed,
"On the contrary, my mother would make me banana pancakes and bacon whenever I was upset, this very much reminded me of those days." A small smirk appeared on his face, it was fleeting, but she had caught it.
"However, French toast is a far better choice" he added.
The king watched as her small smile grew to reach her eyes; she was pleased that she surpassed his mother, which was something that came very rarely, and somehow that made him feel joy.
"May I ask you a question, and forgive me if I may seem inappropriate, but what is your name?"
His waitress laughed,
" Inappropriate? God no, you made it seem like you were going to ask me for my bra size" she said without thinking. The penguin chuckled,
"That would be inappropriate indeed, you have nothing to fear, in fact I will introduce myself" he said as he lifted his hand to shake her own,
"My name is Oswald Cobblepot."
Elizabeth gripped his hand; it was cool to the touch, but surprisingly soft.
"Elizabeth" she replied.
"Elizabeth" Oswald repeated.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman" he thought.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Oswald" Elizabeth added, releasing his hand and brining it to her waist. This was the closest she has ever been to a murderer; it surprised her only a little that she acted like her old self. There were no red flags waving her head, she felt as if this was a normal meeting with a normal man.
'Am I stupid not to fear him?' She thought to herself. Oswald spoke, breaking her thoughts,
"The pleasure is all mine Elizabeth" he said.
With one last smile his waitress wondered off to the next table. Did she know who Oswald really is? Did she see his face on T.V, and hear the stories, just like everyone else? If not, so be it, it was refreshing to be looked at and only see the man. However, if she truly knew, then her acting skills are phenomenal.
When the King finished his meal, he dawned his black fedora and jacket. With umbrella in hand Oswald limped to the counter placing a single $100 bill on the counter.
"Leaving all ready?" she asked as she reached for the cash and headed to the register for some change. With her back turned Oswald peered at the whiteboard by her head showing the weekday schedule.
'Liz-Monday-Thursday 3pm-11pm'
"Keep the change Elizabeth" he suddenly said as she turned around; her brows flew up,
"But your bill was only 18.75" she said, her voice filled with surprise, Oswald grinned,
"a pittance for what your service was worth, but I'm afraid I will have to return with more money in my wallet, tomorrow perhaps 6:30 sharp" he said.
"You sound pretty confident I'll be here tomorrow" she said with a small smile on her face,
"what happens if I'm not?"
A slow knowing smile spread across his shadowed face; he lifted his umbrella and gestured his handle to the wall, Elizabeth turned around and saw the white board with her schedule on it.
"I will see you tomorrow Elizabeth." With those final words the Penguin stepped out of the small country dinner and into the wild concrete jungle.
"That was creepy" Ronda said out of the blue, causing Elizabeth to jump,
"Jesus H. Murphy, don't sneak up behind me" she cried. Ronda shrugged,
"It's not very often you see Oswald walk out a door with a smile on his face without blood on the floor. What's your secret?" she asked.
Elizabeth tore her eyes from the door and stared at Ronda, but after a moment of thought she shook her head,
"I don't have one".