I was expecting a bigger fight from Jim, but he got dressed and followed me without another question. He complained the entire time but he knew I wasn't gonna tell him anything of importance.
I was nervous about the whole thing. I mostly wanted to get it over with and I volunteered to grab Jim before Ivy could come with me, the pest.
I had a whole mantra to keep me sane: Maybe if Jim rejects Boss's rock, Boss'll finally shut up about him and stop acting so damn weird. And I already told Ivy to get started on an antidote or else.
But if he accepted it... no, he wouldn't. Jim wouldn't accept anything from Boss. He didn't even show up to his grand opening of the club. Why would he accept a random rock from a criminal? The one criminal who adores him...
"So...," he started casually. "Can you at least tell me why he wants to give it to me now?" We were a couple blocks away and I mulled over the question, deciding if it was safe to answer.
"You know how he is. He doesn't shut up until he gets what he wants. I said I'd get you now so neither of us has to suffer."
"How do you put up with him?" The question was in between rhetorical and serious.
"Well," I thought aloud, "he's kinda like a brother to me. Sometimes we're like two peas in a pod and the next minute I imagine sewing his lips shut." I reached for the door handle but it swung open before I made contact. Ivy appeared before us with an all too excited grin on her freckled face.
"HE'S HERE," she screamed into the club. She turned back to us with that disturbing smile. "Hi-i, Jim," she swooned. I tried to push past her but she blocked my path. "I'll be the one escorting you to Oz-Boz," she giggled.
"What did you just say?" I had no idea what language she was speaking, let alone how tightly she latched onto Jim's arm. Ivy somehow yanked him inside while he gave me a desperate plea with his eyes. I gave him my most apologetic smile and followed Ivy closely through the club into the back conference room.
Boss was at the head of the table, like usual, and the place had proper lighting for once. It was a little freaky to think about how much appearance in front of Jim mattered.
"Jim," Boss jumped up from his too-big throne with a smile. "I'm so glad you could make it with such short notice."
"I don't have anything better to do," he replied gruffly, a humorless smile creasing his face. Ivy was still holding his arm. I snuck my fingers into her long, red hair, grabbed a handful, and yanked.
"OW!," she squealed. Ivy turned back and glared at me with the creepiest look she could muster. I was tempted to use the baby talk on her.
"Do you really think Boss wants an audience?," I whispered huskily into her ear; well, I missed her ear but the temple's close enough.
"I ain't hurtin anybody, right Mr. Oz?," she tried that sweet charm on him, but he gave her a blank stare. Then he turned to me and I saw the momentary plea.
"We'll get outta ya hair, Boss," I smiled widely. I took a hold of Ivy and ripped her off of Jim. I turned to Jim while holding Ivy arms length away from us. "Be nice to him," I nearly growled. His eyebrows were close to touching and he was about to say something before Ivy started struggling in my grasp. I exited with Ivy after I shot a final firm glance Jim's way.
As soon as we were far enough down the hallway, out of ear shot, I stopped and spun Ivy to face me.
"The hell is your problem, Cat?," she huffed indignantly at me. I raised my index finger to my lips, waiting until she nodded at my command. I walked toward my bedroom door, opened it, and closed it again. I started tiptoeing back down the hall. "Ohh," she sighed in realization. I shot her another glare. Ivy swiftly covered her mouth with her hand and followed my lead.
She lunged more than stalked, not paying any attention to where she was stepping. The floorboards creaked a number of times under her reckless advances. I finally got to the edge of the wall, at which point I grabbed Ivy again and positioned her against the wall next to me.
I pointed to myself with my thumb rather forcefully, then took my index and middle fingers, pointed them at my eyes, and out into the conference room. I couldn't risk them seeing red hair and too-curious eyes. I've snooped on Boss's "business visits" plenty of times before, but I'd never had a partner.
I pulled up my black hood and shoved my dirty blonde curls in there so my own hair wouldn't catch any attention. I was careful to relax my gaze; people could always feel scrutinizing eyes on them. What people couldn't really tell was a disinterested stare. As creepy as it sounds, I'm kind of an expert in the never-being-seen aspect of my job.
Luckily for us, or unluckily for Ivy's tiny attention span, the entire club seemed almost silent. Well, actually the conference room doors were sound proof. Just so, ya know, the patrons of the club wouldn't hear any potential gunshots, and therefore murders. I was nearly capturing the complete conversation when Ivy's patience wore out.
"What's happening?," she whispered a little too loudly for my liking. I grabbed her face, admittedly, roughly, and gave her jaw a firm squeeze to signify my annoyance. I slowly released my grip, making sure there wouldn't be another outburst. She huffed again and sagged against the wall, but she was finally quiet. I started observing the situation before us.
Jim, truthfully, did not want Selina to leave. He really didn't like being alone with the Penguin. There were only a couple of instances that they were completely alone, as in without one of his henchmen staring Jim down while they chatted about favors.
The first time, although they weren't even alone then, was at the end of the dock. The first day Gotham's truth about the palpable corruption was laid out before Jim's eyes. The first day a man trembled and begged for his life in Jim's arms.
They were alone, in that split second. The little secret he kept from his partner in order to save them both. A conspiracy only they would share.
Until Cobblepot completely ignored his order, and came back to Gotham. He came directly to the detective's apartment, lying about his identity, as if second nature, to Barbara. Then the second time was against the apartment building wall, on the rain stained concrete. Cobblepot wanted oh so desperately to show him his gratitude, to show his usefulness, to be a friend.
Suddenly, it was the third time there was no one else there. No one a part of this conversation, listening in to make sure the King of Gotham got his way.
It frightened Jim. A slick iceberg sat in his chest, dreading what the man could possibly want.
Oswald stood there a moment longer, still smiling at him. Then he remembered his manners.
"Please, sit," he gestured to the chair directly beside him at the table, next to his throne. Jim, moving almost on auto-pilot, pulled the chair out of its place and sank onto the smooth, dark wood. God, he was exhausted.
Oswald sat down more gracefully, bending a bit to one side as to keep the pressure off the lame leg. He sighed thoughtfully, studying Jim with a fawning interest. Again.
"So," Jim started quietly, "Selina says you really wanted to give me something." There was no point in formalities. They were nothing more than a business alliance. If even.
He didn't react, keeping his gaze locked on Jim. Jim slowly reached over, put his hand in front of the Penguin's face, and snapped loudly a couple times. He blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. "Did she?"
"Yeah, said it couldn't wait till tomorrow," Jim said, a pseudo-smile plastered across his face.
"Well, I'd thought you'd still be up, considering your recent late nights at work and Lee being away," he smiled knowingly. "You'd probably be bored, and all alone. Company helps with both."
"Actually, I'd be sleeping, and alone. Which company does not help with." Jim was on the edge of slurring his words from exhaustion. He felt his eyes closing on their own accord.
"Where's the fun in that?," Oswald murmured quietly. "But, I digress." He reached to the side of him on his throne and held up a rock with a red ribbon tied around it. Jim studied it closely.
"A... rock." He stared up at Oswald incredulously.
Oswald sighed. "Yes, Jim. A rock. I wanted to give you a rock for you are the Charlie Brown of Gotham," he droned sarcastically. Jim leaned forward in his chair and began reaching for his apparent gift. Oswald's eyes became saucers as Jim tentatively picked up the rock and held it in his hand, running his thumb across the smooth surface.
He accepted it. He really truly accepted it. Took it right out of his hand. Oswald felt a piece of himself click into place. Who knew relationships were so damn easy?
"Does it have some double meaning or something?," Jim asked, inspecting the sparkles inside the gray stone.
"It's," his voice was barely audible so he cleared his throat. "It symbolizes our relationship. I found it by the beach. It's original rough edges washed away by the bay so it's become smooth... Like us... And the bay is where we started after all, too," Oswald smiled at the now-fond memory.
Jim offered somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. "Neat," he pocketed the gift. "Anything else?"
"Wh-what? Oh, uh, no... Nothing else," Penguin told him softly, almost timid.
Jim smiled curtly and stood up. "See ya round, Penguin."
"Wait!," Oswald shot up, a near-plea in his eyes. "J-just one thing, before you go." He stepped around the table in order to be face to face with the detective. "Every bit of contact we've had, has been you threatening me," he said with a light chuckle. "The only person I've ever hugged is my mother." He took a step closer. "Do you think..."
"Are you seriously asking me for a hug right now?"
"W-well," he spluttered. "We've been through s-so much together and physical contact does relieve-" Jim held up a hand.
"You're making it worse," Jim grumbled, kicking himself for even staying this long. Maybe accepting the rock was trouble some how. Penguin always misinterpreted things, and this rock seemed like a big deal. It wasn't too late to give it back right?
"Please," Oswald whispered. That breath-taking sadness filled his eyes. It always made a small part of Jim melt inside. A small small part that was always trumped by Jim's reason and morals. No matter how much Jim truly wanted to protect the Penguin from the world.
He shouldn't have accepted the gift. He shouldn't be friendly towards the Penguin. Penguin should have been dead! If not by Jim, then the dozens of other powerful people would have shot him down immediately before claiming himself as "King." Now look where he was. In the biggest mob bosses's liar, conversing with said criminal. His charisma even fooled the straightest cop in Gotham.
Jim looked around Oswald's conference room, making extra sure no one was around. It really felt like a trap, but what could Penguin possibly do? Stab him in the back- literally? The only reason Jim met him was because he was a snitch after all. Was this it, was all the favors and friendliness because Penguin wanted to kill Jim after he got all the use out of him?
"How 'bout a handshake?," Jim offered his hand to him, keeping his stance firm but open. Oswald looked away and smiled softly.
"Still don't trust me, Jim. And after all this time together," he gazed back at the detective before him. Oswald took the offered hand. "I will have your trust one day, Jim. Just you wait."
"Um, no offense but," Jim started, nervous all of a sudden. "You're kinda a criminal." Oswald chuckled heartily.
"Indeed. Do be careful with our rock, Jim. It's very special to me," his tone mixed with the signature smile unnerved Jim to no end. The detective swiftly made his exit, but before he completely left the throne room Penguin called, "and do call me Oswald, Jim. We are partners after all."
Jim didn't look back. He really needed some damn sleep.
AN: I'm sorry if my endings are abrupt? I just like to get them up and not be ridiculously long.
Happy Holidays!
