"Might we talk upstairs?" Kristen continued. She loved watching him turn from curiosity to excitement. She knew she was of high desire, and she liked that.
"Quite the forward one aren't you? But I simply would much rather know you by more than 'my favorite worst nightmare'."
"I'm sure you would, but for now that shall do." She tried to grab his hand and drag him up the stairs, but he pulled his hand back and pushed his other between her breasts and the smile that was on his face was replaced with a stern expression.
"I will not be led around, and if you wish to speak with me you will tell me your name."
Kristen's skin lit up with goosebumps from the intensity of his tone.
"Fine. You may call me Nightshade."
He squinted in annoyance at her. Penguin wanted to accept this, but he knew she would take that as her being stronger than him. At the same time, this could be advantage. He had let Maroni and Falcone see him as weak, and in the long run it paid off. If he let her do the same, perhaps he could use that later. Give in, and he loses some power for now, but it could turn into more power later. Refuse her, and he lost the opportunity to hear what she had to say. Whatever it was that she wanted to discuss might be the very key he needed to maintain his position.
"Alright Ms. Nightshade. Shall we?" He said, swooping his arm out in front of him, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him. He may be more interested in her mind, but he was a gentleman, and a man with needs. As she strut in front of him, going up the stairs, he examined her backside and noticed a few weapons tucked about. She was definitely no one to underestimate. He turned for a brief moment and nodded a command to a guard saying that he wished to be followed, just in case. He considered telling her to leave her weapons outside the room, but he decided it would be better for her to think him oblivious. He loathed groveling, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness.
Once in his chambers, she spun around to meet his eyes with great intensity.
"Alright Penguin. I know you aren't a complete fool. I clearly didn't ask you up here out of attraction to you…" Her voice trailed off as she suddenly noticed the four women chained and gagged on his wall. He watched with great pleasure as she gulped, not knowing why he had scandalously dressed women in chains. But she finally met his eyes again as she continued.
"I need you. You have the city, as of today yes? She asked, checking his sanity.
Something prickled in his mind telling him no, but what else would explain his party and suit?
"Yes. I won yesterday, I celebrate today. What does a girl like you need from me?"
"A small loan and a new office."
"Quite the modest request. But you will take nothing from me until I get to know you." He watched as she looked over at the women again, fear just barely touching her eyes.
"What would you like to know?"
"Ah, you must really be in need. How old are you?"
"26."
"Where are you from?"
"Chicago."
"What do you like to do in your free time?"
"Read, write, self-evaluate." Such easy questions, she couldn't help but wonder when he would ask something more important.
"How many crimes have you committed?"
Apparently he was thinking giving her soft questions would trick her into answering without thinking about the question first. He thought wrong. Before she answered, she actually considered how many she had committed. In reality, it was probably short of a few hundred. But if she told him that, either he would trust her more or dismiss her immediately. She did not want to take any risks, so she decided to downplay it and play the pity card.
"I can honestly say I'm not quite sure, but I can tell you that every single one was justified. The crimes were petty early on, as my mother and I were homeless." That part was true. "I love her so much, and I just wanted us to have our basic needs met. Then she died, and," She paused from dramatic effect, pretending to wipe away tears while examining his lack of reaction. "And well, I had become accustomed to the ease of it by then and have been on and off involved in crime for a while now. "
"Have you killed anyone?"
The faces of those who had fallen by her doing flashed in her mind, and it took a few moments for her to process the reality of how many lives she had taken. In all honesty though, she didn't care.
"Once in defense. He was trying to take advantage of me, so I grabbed the heaviest object I could find and slammed in on his head." She wanted to look defiant but still innocent, so she settled with a feigned shudder and a dark gaze.
"How far have you been with a man?"
"Is that really necessary?"
He looked back meaningfully, as if to say that he was fine for this meeting to end.
"Fine. All the way."
"And a woman?" He smirked at her.
"Really? Second base."
"What do you think is the absolute worst thing you are capable of doing?"
"Falling in love." She said without a moment's hesitation. He chuckled at her in response.
"Why do you need 'a small loan and a new office'?"
"Because I want to do better with my life."
"And what can you offer me? Why should I fill your needs?
"I will do anything for you. No matter what it is you ask of me."
"Anything?"
"Anything. I will be your instrument to use how ever you see fit. Even if that means death."
"That seems, well rather excessive of a commitment for such a tiny request, but I won't turn that down just for sake of equity. You have yourself a deal Nightshade." He extended his hand to shake on the deal, but she merely looked at it as if it were an insult.
"I am no fool. Do you really expect me to shake your hand on a deal that you have yet to define the terms of? You could very well trick me into becoming your slave with the promise of honoring my request, and not making good on it for years! I need what I asked for within the month. I will pick the location, and the loan will be $20,000 dollars, or no deal."
Penguin admired her bravery, her intellect; her very essence was all rather pleasing. He had hoped to make such a great deal and con her into being his "slave", as she called herself, but she was certainly no fool. He had the money, and a month was reasonable.
"Fine. I will give you $20,000 and an office of your choice, by the end of this month, and in return you shall be my personal 'slave'. Agreed?"
"Agreed." She shook his hand with surprising certainty, and then he called up a writer for the contract. After they both signed, and had it notarized, she took her copy and asked for dismissal, which he gave her, and then he walked himself over to the lounge room.
How interesting her response concerning the worst thing she was capable of. Falling in love? Truly it was a frightening thought, but surely unexpected from her. I guess I expected her to be less calm, less confident, but she is utterly an enigma. Penguin thought to himself, and as soon as he said that last word, his head began to ache; veins pulsing in his head while neurons furiously tried to fire but could not conjure the potential to do so. And what about her response to crime and murder? Those hands do not look as if they use themselves for justice. Their sleek and slimness implies a delicate danger. The way they twitched when I asked her all those questions gave me the impression that if I had pressed much further, they would have removed themselves from her side and found themselves wrapped around my neck. I think those hands have found themselves in all kinds of trouble; it's rather surprising that they are as white as they are, clean and contradictorily innocent appearing. I can't wait to see what uses I will find for them. She will be rather useful, but definitely someone to watch closely. She has the potential to be as much of an adversary as-as, dammit what is the word I'm looking for? Again Penguin's head throbbed with pain as he frantically tried to think of what he was going to say, though alas, he gave up with a frustrated shake of his head.
"Boss?"
"David? It's evening. What are you doing here?"
"It's an urgent report. It couldn't wait until morning."
"Well out with it then."
"Tawny hasn't returned. We checked his vitals tracker, and well, there is no easy way to say this, but he is dead sir."
"Dead? Are you certain?"
"Yes. The monitor just came and told me. Everything was fine and then adrenaline shot through him right before he died. We checked his last location for the body, and for a hint of where he might have gone just in case, but there was not a trace. He is gone."
Penguin picked up the nearest item and threw it across the room, causing David to flinch in fear. "Son of a bitch! He was my best one. Send someone else. I don't care how many die, but I need eyes on them at all time."
"May I ask why sir? Are they truly that dangerous that they are worth all these lives?"
Penguin's head cocked to the side and he squinted in rage. If it were possible, daggers would have shot from his eyes. The air thickened, yet still dropped in temperature as tension and an icy chill fell upon the room. He walked slowly towards David as David tried to slowly back away, clutching his clipboard to his chest as if it could protect him.
"Did you just question me?"
"Yy-e-ss sir-rr, sss-orry. It ww-won't happen a-ggg-ain."
Penguin reached for the knife in his pocket, ready to shove it through the depths of David's skull, when his mother walked in. David took the opportunity to run out the room before it was too late.
"Chessie, what are you doing dear?"
"Oh nothing Mother!" He told her, taking her into a warm embrace.
"I am surprised to see you respond so kindly to me, you know, after last night. When you ran out on me, I kind of thought I might not see you again."
"What are you talking about? We didn't meet last night. Did you forget to take your meds?"
"Why of course we did darling! I told you about-"
"Sir?" Another of his many servants came in, a concerned look on his face.
"Can you not see that I am with my mother?"
"I'm sorry sir, but the police are here."
"Police? Dearie why would the police be here?"
"Mother please wait here. It's probably just a noise complaint."
He excused himself and walked with the interrupter out into the stairwell.
"Why are they here?"
"They said that the friends of a few girls called them and said that their friends never came home last night, and that they were here for your party yesterday."
"I didn't have a party yesterday." Then Penguin remembered the women on his wall, and his head started to hurt again. How did those women get there? I remember having them chained up, but I don't remember why they were there in the first place. They were probably a gift from Maroni. Yes, that's it. Surely it is. Right?
"Sir?"
"What? Oh yes. I'll speak with them." He followed the interrupter to the back door where the police were standing and smiled when he saw Jim, the real Jim of whom his new server received his name from.
"Detective Gordon! What a lovely surprise. Why are you visiting my lovely abode? Did you decide to come to my party after all? I'd much prefer you to inform me if you plan to bring more than one plus-one with you. It's the considerate thing to do after all."
"I'm not here to party. You know why I am here."
"Do I? I don't believe so, but please, enlighten me."
"I am here about four women. They were reported missing last night."
"As you can see, I have many women here. Who's to say if the ones you are looking for are here or not?"
"Do any of these faces look familiar?" Jim said, pushing 4 pictures in front of Penguin's face.
Penguin took a moment and hid the realization that he indeed did recognize the women, and knew exactly where they were. Likely Falcone was upset that Maroni had sent a gift without informing him first. Falcone probably called in the tip so that Maroni's gift would be rescinded.
"I may have seen them dancing, but I'm not sure. I have had plenty women walk through tonight."
"What about last night?"
"Last night? There wasn't a party last night. They might have come in through the club, but I wasn't really paying attention then."
Jim knew that there was a party. He had photo evidence; pictures that he had taken himself. But he couldn't admit to his reconnaissance, as it wasn't department sanctioned. And really, it wasn't worth the fight. He was only there in the event that it was a homicide, not just a missing persons case.
"Alright, well if you see them just let me know."
"Detective Gordon, shouldn't we at least look around?" One of the police murmured.
"No kid, just let it be. Oswald here wouldn't lie to us, now would he?"
He looked to the side and then Detective Gordon nodded in his own dismissal.
Glad to have avoided potential disaster, Penguin smiled as he waved goodbye and closed the door.
Nightshade watched the police turn away, and she couldn't help but feel a little nervous as they passed by her. She had called in the tip, but as she suspected, Penguin had them wrapped around his little finger. He would be harder to defeat from the outside, again as she had suspected. It seemed her plan to work from the inside would be more efficient after all, but the police would be of no use.
As she walked away, she thought about the future. She walked the streets thinking about her loan, and the office that she planned to buy. She thought about her double life, and her new identity. Nightshade, ha. All these years I have never hidden my identity, mostly just because I hadn't shared it. But now I have some sort of alter ego? What am I, Superman? Kristen from the office by day, Nightshade by night? She laughed out loud at the thought. How truly absurd. At least it got me what I needed. I have Riddler and Penguin on my side. Oh, Riddler; how I hate to play with the poor man's heart. I usually don't play with my food, but I can't get his help the way I did Penguin's. No matter what Riddler thinks, he is weak. He lets love consume him, just as Penguin let's his beloved mother influence him. It's pure weakness.
Her mind seemed all but settled on the weakness of love. A memory danced across her mind, twirling through the thorns and vines that had formulated over the years.
"Mother, mother it's time to go! We have to abandon that body."
Kristen watched as her mom stood over the body. The now dead man had tried to hurt her mom and her, and she had bashed his head in with the lamp. He wasn't her first kill, so she knew the drill: kill and flee. Damn neighbors had probably heard her damned momma screaming. She didn't know why her momma loved that horrible man.
"We have got to go now!"
Still her momma stood. Stubborn woman had always been that way. She took too long to get over things, and she never did like when Kristen did the right thing for them both. If she was honest with herself, she was sick of her momma holding her back. For a brief second she allowed herself to stop and think about the situation. If she took that gun, shot the man and then shot her momma, it would look like a murder-suicide, and she could just walk away from it all. But she had always had her mom with her. She wasn't sure that she was ready to walk away from her like that.
"You damn fool! I loved that man. He wasn't going to hurt you." Her mom finally said, snapping out of the shock.
"Are you crazy momma? He had you strapped down and was just about to try and take me just then!"
"You are foolish, girl! He was just messing. I promise you. Now look what you have done. This is your fifth kill this week! And all of them were so unnecessary. All this death inside of you girl. It should be you laying on that floor. It should be you."
That was it. Kristen wasn't going to take it anymore. She pulled out the gun and fired two rounds, one straight to her mother's heart, and the other in the temple of the man on the ground. She watched as her mother bled out, crumbling before her. She felt no remorse. The woman was her weakness. That weakness needed to be gone by now; it was past time really. In the distance, she heard sirens. She placed the gun next to the man's hand, ducked out the side window into the alley, and ran as fast as she could to get away from the scene. She didn't look back even once.
Kristen shook herself of the memory. She hadn't felt bad for killing her then, and she didn't now. Her life was coming together; even if she had felt guilty she simply didn't have time to deal with baggage. Instead, she smiled. Smiled at her freedom, smiled at her unlikely arrangement with Penguin and Riddler, smiled at the streets she would conquer soon enough.
