Oswald checked his pocket watch for the third time since being seated at Gracie's Diner. When he had arrived, he had done as suggested. Oswald let the hostess know he would be meeting Claire Selton and he was ushered to a rear booth positioned away from the diner's main aisle. He supposed Ms. Selton was a regular patron of the diner since it was so close to the library. Still, it was of interest to note the friendly service he received upon invoking the young lady's name.

The whole situation had played out as he had hoped. He found a way to sway his target toward Ms. Mooney's aims. Yet, somehow, much of the interaction had not been what was expected. He was not sure why Fish Mooney's other men had been unsuccessful in bringing the young woman to examine the artifact.

Claire Selton was not an imposing person, from what he had observed, especially when compared with his employer. She was of a height with him, unassuming and in no position of power of which he was aware. She certainly seemed to have some acumen regarding Fish Mooney's business dealings and Gotham's underground trade but hardly struck Oswald as any kind of threat.

Eighteen minutes, Oswald noted, beginning to wonder he had been stood up despite Selton's assurances. She had been a difficult person to assess during their brief encounter. He viewed the world as a series of moves and counter-moves with some people being more of value to his plans than others. He did not like unpredictable elements. Chaos could be useful, but not now. Not yet.

Oswald looked his watch again as the diner's hostess, Grace, approached the table with the requested slices of apple pie.

"She'll be here, hun," the woman said, putting two plates on the table, "Don't worry."

"Excuse me?" he replied, her words pulling him from his thoughts.

"Claire. She'll be here," Grace repeated with a smile before turning back toward the main counter.

Oswald frowned, glaring as the woman walked away. Her assurances made him feel even more uneasy. Was the diner's owner playing a part of some kind of ruse, orchestrated along side Ms. Selton? Perhaps this was how the librarian had dodged Mooney's other men. Send them on with promise of rendez vous, only to be stalled by her allies as she disappeared into the city?

His cool veneer was nearly broken as his temper flared. He did not like to be made the fool, and Selton would pay if she dared to...

"Hi," a voice said from his left as Claire Selton walked passed and took the seat in the booth across from him.

Oswald stared for a moment, jolted out of his ire by the woman's sudden presence. He glanced down at his open watch and took note of the time.

"Twenty minutes," he said, snapping the watch closed and placing it in his pocket.

Selton shrugged, "I like to be punctual."

A slight smile formed on Oswald's face before he could fully collect himself and redirect his thoughts to the task at hand.

"Clearly," he replied, organizing his expression into a professional facade, "And I do appreciate you taking the time to meet with me."

Selton gave him a shrewd look, "Not like you gave me much of a choice."

Oswald shrugged and Selton sat back, looking amused.

"Pretty clever, the way you played Mrs. T," she continued, "There was really no other way she would have let me leave shift early. Now I get why Fish sent you instead of one of her usual guys."

Privately, he was pleased by this distinction though his face betrayed nothing as he used a mock bashful glance toward his hands.

"I suppose everyone has their own talents," he said, pulling the folder once again from within is coat, "And Ms. Mooney has need of yours."

Oswald placed the folder on the table and pushed it toward the young lady.

Selton sighed and picked up the file. She did not open it, rubbing the red cover between her fingers and thumbs. She lay it back down and met his gaze.

"Do you know what she found?" the young lady asked, biting her lower lip.

"She's a collector," Oswald said, "Ms. Mooney has an appreciation for rare and valuable objects. As investments."

"Yeah, but... do you know... really know... what she found?" Selton asked again. He frowned in honest confusion and shook his head.

The librarian glanced to her left and stared out the window. He watched her closely, trying to make sense of the earnest nature of her question. Did it have something to do with the museum curator, her former teacher? Or had his employer acquired something of value beyond monetary considerations? This task was becoming quite the curiosity.

"I'm sorry to be such a pain," she said after a moment, looking back toward Oswald, "It's nothing personal. Fish Mooney knows how I feel about her investments. You're just the next unlucky guy who got stuck dealing with me."

The odd apology again caught him off guard. Conversing with the librarian continued to deviate from its expected course.

"Business with Ms. Mooney can be challenging," he said, shifting his face into an understanding smile, "But not necessarily without its benefits. I'm sure she'd be willing to compensate you in some way for your assistance. That is, beyond the donation promised to Mrs. Tretter."

At this, Selton laughed and gave him a grin. Oswald was pleased by this reaction, feeling he had retaken control of the discussion.

"Business with Fish can be dangerous, I think you mean," she replied.

"True," Oswald said, then tilted his head and added, "So? Can I persuade you to read the contents of that file?"

The librarian sighed again, "Well... you did order the apple pie. I suppose I owe you at least a peek at it."

Oswald grinned, picking up his fork and claiming a piece of the dessert before him. The filling was sweet, too cloying for his preferred tastes, but he ate at a leisurely pace as his dining companion opened the file and began to read.

Selton only managed two bites from her own plate before her attention was focused solely on the file's contents. After a few minutes, he noticed the hand holding her silver utensil began to tremble slightly. The young lady's face appeared to have paled when her eyes finally lifted to meet his own.

"Where..." she began, the word catching in her throat, her voice low and urgent, "Where did Fish get this?"

Oswald shook his head, "I don't know. That was not something Ms. Mooney chose to share with me."

Selton steepled her fingers and put them to her lips. She closed her eyes, taking a few more deep breaths before lowering her hands. He had the strangest sensation of a temperature shift, as if the air between them had grown warmer. Then the feeling was gone, and he dismissed it from his mind.

"Okay..." she finally said on an exhale, then repeated, "Okay... Tell Fish... Tell Ms. Mooney that I'll come. I'll come look at the artifact."

Oswald blinked in surprise and nodded, "I'm sure your assistance will be most appreciated."

"Really?" the young lady asked, seeming dazed, "I think my assistance might end up being most regretted..."

Oswald frowned but Selton spoke again before he could inquire about her meaning.

"What time?" she asked, "What time should I get there?"

"Seven o'clock?" he suggested, "The club will be open by then but Ms. Mooney usually doesn't begin personally seeing to her guests until about nine, after the headliner..."

"Okay. Seven it is," she pushed the remainder of the pie toward the center of the table, "Sorry, I'm not feeling as hungry as I thought."

Selton signaled for the check but Oswald waved her off.

"No need," he said, "I settled the tab before you arrived."

"Oh," she replied, "Thanks."

"No problem at all," he said, adding coyly, "Despite my earlier tactics to gain an audience with you, I really do try to be a gentleman."

Selton smiled and he felt unexpected relief as the friendly look returned to her face.

"Seven o'clock," the young lady repeated, continuing to smile as she rose from the table, "See you then, Oswald."

He turned to watch her go, his jaw setting into a pleased smirk in reaction to his success. The librarian had visibly been shaken by Fish's missive, a reaction Oswald intended to investigate. What exactly had Ms. Mooney acquired?