Chapter Eleven: Invitations and Expectations
Sylvia arrived at the GCPD by nine o'clock in the morning. In her hand, she carried invitations (pastel yellow calligraphy on azure background), which were neatly placed in a solid white envelope; Gabe had done a beautiful job in helping her select the colors. While Oswald wasn't yet entitled to understand why she had chosen the colors, Sylvia had ensured him that he would understand when the time was right. The only people who knew what she was going to wear were herself and Victor.
At this point of the day, most of the police officers, Jim included, were just receiving their new cases or following up on leads that would hopefully give them their next clue to solving the mystery.
Setting foot in the station, she realized that it had been a long time since she had seen Harvey Bullock (granted, he was no longer working for the GCPD) or Captain Essen; for that matter, Edward Nygma. She doubted most of them would accept her invitation, considering the groom's reputation and title, but Sylvia wanted to offer it either way; her feelings wouldn't be hurt…she really only expected for Jim to be there.
As she approached the Desk Sergeant's podium, the chair's occupant greeted her with a smile of his own.
"Well, long time, no see, Miss Gordon!"
"Good morning," Sylvia greeted. "Is Jim here?"
Just as the Sergeant began to speak, Captain Essen gathered everyone in the middle of the room, calling all bodies to attention. Sylvia turned to see that there was a giant slide projector; apparently, she'd caught the entire station in the middle of a debriefing.
Sylvia leaned towards the podium and whispered, "Should I leave?"
"Nah," the Sergeant said, smirking at her. "It's just an update."
"This looks like it's important, an only-need-to-know basis…" Sylvia stated uncertainly.
"You're Jim's kid sister," the Sergeant chortled, grinning downwards at her. "Don't you already know everything anyway, one way or another?"
Sylvia let out a breathy laugh through her nose: "Point taken, Sarge."
"Just stay in the back," the Sergeant insisted, gesturing beside him. "It'll only be a minute."
"Thanks."
As instructed, Sylvia stepped back so she blended in with the other police officers who were currently not in uniform. Captain Essen turned on the projector, and looked at everyone seriously. Beside her were familiar faces: her brother, of course, Dr. Thompkins (the new M.E.), Kristin Kringle (the little records custodian), and Ed Nygma stood just a few paces behind her; Sylvia smiled inwardly when she noticed the puppy dog eyes…he was still pining for her. Things didn't really change that much in the station.
"You all know what we're facing here," Captain (or rather Commissioner) Essen declared. "Forty-eight hours ago, six criminally insane inmates busted out of Arkham Asylum. Yesterday, four of those inmates broke into Yellen shipyard, kidnapped seven workers, and dropped them off the roof of the Gotham Gazette…"
Sylvia's eyes widened.
Okay…. Maybe, a lot of things had changed since she had last set foot in the station. Sylvia glanced at the Desk Sergeant with a second's hesitation, wondering if she really needed to be here for this—it looked like major important police business.
He exchanged her look with one of nonchalance so Sylvia remained quiet, crossing her arms as she observed the crestfallen faces while dread occupied most of the officers' expressions.
In Gotham, one could only hope for twelve hours' worth of peace and tranquility. Gothamites were optimistic when they received a good night's sleep, even.
"As of now," Essen continued with slight annoyance, "we still don't have any leads on the person or persons behind the breakout—Jim Gordon's lead…Jim?"
Sylvia smiled, feeling a little bit of that ol' sister pride when Jim's back straightened upon hearing his name; he thanked for the segue in, dutifully took the remote offered by the Commissioner, and then went into it.
Like that old soldier habit, Jim's voice was stern and strong: "These are our targets."
He stepped forward and out of the way of the projector, revealing one escaped inmate after another, going over the name and the crime of which they had been accused, tried, and convicted.
"Jerome Valeska: eighteen-years-old, matricide." Jim said; the slide flickered. A young man of stated age with ginger roots smiled maniacally at the camera.
The slide changed to one of Arnold Dobkins, stated to be a schizophrenic, poisoner, and a rapist.
The projector flickered again to Aaron Helzinger: he killed his entire family with his bare hands.
Robert Greenwood: he killed and ate a dozen women.
For each new inmate that appeared, Jim held no emotion in his voice as he described the heinous crimes…that was until the screen flickered for the last time and revealed Barbara Kean. Sylvia noticed Jim's hesitation; that small fraction of a second; whether that was the awkwardness of having his ex-fiancée showcased in front of his current girlfriend, or perhaps he was still feeling guilty about allowing the Ogre to capture and brainwash her, Sylvia wasn't certain.
But the hesitation was there. Gazing at Lee and the sudden downward cast of her glance, Sylvia was certain that Lee might have been wondering the same thing. Regardless of his emotion or whatever he had felt for a split-second, it disappeared as he continued.
"Barbara Kean…killed her parents." Jim said finally.
The projector turned off, and he turned to face all of the police officers.
"We're going to work this in groups of four," Jim announced firmly. "I will hand out assignments through the day. Alvarez is my coordinating officer. Any questions?"
There were none.
"Let's get to work!" Jim dismissed.
Everyone broke the wave and started doing whatever they were doing prior to the brief. Sylvia glanced at the Desk Sergeant expectantly; the latter nodded her forward so Sylvia nodded back respectfully and then first headed for the forensic lab.
Ed was in the lab, doing what he did best: working on the puzzles. On his station were several poisons—or she assumed them to be—on several mini plates. She tapped two knuckles against the door; with large, circular goggles that made his eyes appear buggy, Ed peered up and smiled when he saw her.
"Sylvia!" Ed exclaimed.
"Hi, Ed." Sylvia greeted. "May I?"
"Oh, where are my manners," Ed chuckled. He pulled off his goggles and placed them on the table, smiling still. "Come in!"
Sylvia entered, and glanced at the curious plates.
"Did I catch you at a busy time?" she asked.
"Not at all," said Ed, crossing his arms comfortably across his chest. "Timing couldn't have been better; you actually caught me on a break."
"Good to hear."
Ed glanced at the invitations in her hand.
"Oh," Sylvia gasped. "Right, the reason I'm here…" (She handed one to him.) "I'm getting married tonight, six o'clock at the Gotham Chapel."
He took it slowly, looking at it, then at her as though he was uncertain whether to hold it, drop it, or throw it out the window. Opening the envelope, Ed smiled at the color scheme.
"I like the calligraphy," Ed complimented.
"Thank you. You could ask Kristin to come…as your plus-one."
"You're really trying to help me out, aren't you?" Ed said, placing the envelope on the table beside his goggles.
"Well, you're a nice man. I think it's time she spent time with a nice man, not the past few pricks she's been with…Speaking of which…I've not seen Dougherty for the last few days. Has he been reassigned?"
Ed allowed a small smile to reach his eyes before he said seriously, "No. He's not been reassigned."
"I suppose he's on vacation," Sylvia uttered, eyes flickering to the ceiling. "A man like him has so many places to be but very few places he's wanted. Don't you agree?"
Ed tilted his head curiously to the side, and said slowly, "I'd say that is a very odd but accurate way to put it."
Sylvia looked at him, narrowing her eyes slightly.
"You look different," she said, gesturing to his overall appearance.
Ed feigned understanding saying, "Whatever do you mean?"
Sylvia smirked saying, "You know where Officer Dougherty is, don't you, Ed?"
"I can't say I do." Ed said nonchalantly. "If I did, would I not tell you?"
"Wouldn't you?" Sylvia questioned. When Ed didn't blink, she said smoothly, "You keep tabs on him and Kristin—your pining for her has never been more obvious, Edward."
Ed tentatively placed a small gelatin sample of one of the alleged poisons on a transparent microfilm, and tasked it under the microscope lens for a closer look. He glanced at her secretively, sizing and focusing the lens, before he held his hand out to it.
"Would you like a look?" Ed asked gingerly.
Certain this was a segue to either a deeper meaning or a riddle, Sylvia cleared her throat, placed the invitations on the table neatly, and obliged; she slid between Ed and the table; Ed respectfully gave her room, side-stepping to her right, while also watching her with his arms crossed and repositioning his spectacles onto the bridge of his nose.
Sylvia peered into the scope, seeing a shamrock green sample. Other than that, it looked utterly harmless.
"Ed…"
"Yes?"
"What the fuck am I even looking at?" Sylvia questioned, glancing at him.
"This," said Ed, gesturing to the microscope and ergo the sample, "was used to poison our latest victim. Without going into the specifics, it's anti-freeze."
Sylvia chuckled, "I didn't think anyone used that anymore."
"It's a favorite," said Ed darkly, nodding. "It's not the anti-freeze that kills you, but the compound in it."
"And you're going to tell me what that is, I imagine," Sylvia assumed smoothly.
Ed grinned widely: "Do you want to know?"
"Sure, why not—knowledge is power."
She'd never seen him smile so big when she said his favorite words. Ed made a gesture for her to scooch over and she took a few steps to the side; he took a notepad from his front lab coat pocket and scribbled two words:
"'Ethylene Glycol'?" Sylvia read aloud. "What the hell is that?"
Ed said slyly, "I'm so happy you asked. It's a tasteless, odorless, sweet-tasting liquid that is commonly found in anti-freeze; the sweet taste, you can presume, disguises it; it can be drunk accidentally, or—"
"Or I can slip it into someone's caramel macchiato and no one would be the wiser," Sylvia said coyly.
She was certain Ed would be shocked by her dark sense of humor as he so frequently was, but this time around, he surprised her with a certain coy grin of his own.
"And there's the beauty of it," Ed said, tapping the microscope. "Fascinating stuff, isn't it?"
"It truly is, Ed," said Sylvia with a gentle sigh, "but…" (he quirked an eyebrow at her segue) "I can't help but feel you're trying to make a point."
Ed held the invitation she'd previously given him and he placed in it his pocket.
"Officer Dougherty isn't on vacation, Miss Gordon—"
"'Sylvia'." She interrupted politely. "Please. We've spoken enough, I think we're past formalities. Aren't we, Ed?"
"Sure thing," he chirped in agreement.
"And whatever it is you were about to say," said Sylvia lightly, grinning at him, "I'm sure that you don't want to tell me here."
Ed peered into the microscope for a third time before slowly looking at her; his expressions were blank, like he had been caught red-handed. And this made Sylvia smirk.
"You're in a forensics lab, in a police station. You're talking to a detective's sister—I'm certain I am the last person you want to theorize about Dougherty's odd disappearance," said Sylvia quietly, smirking at him. "But…just so you're made aware: I'm not stupid."
"I can't imagine I know what you're talking about," Ed said enigmatically.
"Sure, you don't," Sylvia uttered knowingly. "But for what it's worth—I'm glad Officer Dougherty isn't with Kristin anymore—"
"Who said they weren't?" Ed questioned suddenly.
"Kristin is a beautiful lady," said Sylvia. "A woman like that is never left alone, Ed. You, of all people, should know that. And if a brute like Dougherty isn't pestering her, I can only surmise that either he decided to skip town and leave her alone, or you may have been involved…after all, I know how you feel about Kristin. And while I don't know much about the guy, Dougherty was a prick—and that's speaking politely."
Ed scrunched his face, like he might continue to feign ignorance. However, seeing as how Sylvia was cryptic as well with the knowledge that he was somehow involved in Dougherty's unusual absence, Ed allowed himself a small smile.
"You're a nice man, Ed." Sylvia commented, picking up her invitations. "Kristin deserves someone like you."
"That's nice of you to say. But how do you know that for sure?" Ed said quizzically. "What if I'm just pretending to be nice?"
"Are you?" Sylvia returned.
"Just kidding." Ed said, nudging her in the shoulder. "Thank you for the invitation. I don't know if I will be able to go though, honestly. I have…" He gestured to the mini plates of gelatin-like unknown substances.
"It's a thought," Sylvia said, shrugging. "If you can, great—if not, it's fine."
"Thank you," Ed said sincerely.
He held out his arms and Sylvia quickly hugged him, knowing Ed was awkward enough already. Sylvia left shortly after, visiting with Lee Thompkins who said she would happily come.
"Where are you having the reception?" Lee asked, smiling widely.
"It'll be at the mansion," Sylvia informed. "Don't know if you want to go to that, considering it'll be full of gangsters."
"Sounds fun!" Lee said gleefully.
Sylvia blinked: "How are you dating my brother?"
Lee laughed aloud, still grinning widely. The Medical Examiner leaned her backside against the steel table, glancing over the invitation, then looked at her again.
"Jim says he's going to walk you down the aisle," Lee said conversationally.
"Yep," Sylvia said. "This whole thing with Oswald has really put stress on our relationship. It's nice to know we can move forward after all this time."
"I bet it'll be a beautiful ceremony."
"Will you be able to attend?"
"I'll make it, one way or another," Lee promised.
Sylvia glanced behind her at the doorway and then stepped towards Lee in one single pace. The latter quirked an eyebrow at the sudden display of discretion, but when Sylvia spoke, it became evident as to why.
"I heard the inmates broke out of Arkham Asylum," Sylvia uttered quietly. "Barbara was one of them?"
"Unfortunately," Lee sighed, glancing downward. "She called Jim and me the other night…"
Well, that's why Barbara wanted a phone…
"Did she threaten you?" asked Sylvia gently.
"Well, she wasn't calling to give me beauty tips," Lee said sarcastically; there was an air of humor in her voice, despite the worried edge.
"Well, you have Jim to protect you."
Lee glanced at Sylvia saying, "Does that help?"
Sylvia cocked her head to the side: "Does what help what?"
"Does the thought of Jim being a detective make things easier?" Lee asked. She gesticulated to their current surroundings, saying, "The constant epidemic of losing life and limb; the death threats…the random calls in the middle of the night?"
Sylvia smiled sadly. She placed a hand on Lee's shoulder.
"No."
Lee snorted, "And here, I thought you were about to tell me that it does."
"I'm not one for dishonesty," said Sylvia, shrugging. "And I don't bullshit. Never have, never will. Frankly…I think it takes a strong person to be with someone like Jim. As his sister, I can say that."
"I see how you two are related."
Sylvia smirked, saying, "Come again?"
Lee pointed at Sylvia's head, saying, "You have the same cynical sense of humor."
"Stubbornness runs in the family, sure, but the cynical humor has come with time." Sylvia informed lightly. "At one point, Jim and I were both very happy."
Lee gave her a gentle glance asking, "When was that?"
Sylvia replied, "It really depends on which sibling you ask. Jim's been kind of cynical ever since Dad passed away."
Lee looked at the redhead for a long moment and asked, "So who broke your heart?"
Startled, she looked at Lee, who continued to watch her knowingly. Sylvia's lips tightened to a white line; she blinked a few times, her jaw clenched, and then she gave Lee a hard smile.
"I was a realist long before Jim or Dad ever were," Sylvia finally said quietly. Her fingernails dug into her palm, unknown to her. "I was a happy kid: an optimist, if you can believe it. Not just one person or one event made me what I am."
"And what are you?" Lee asked, her eyes searching Sylvia's.
"I'm a sinner," Sylvia uttered lowly. "Dr. Thompkins…"
"Please…Lee."
Sylvia said calmly, "Over time, I have had my heart broken several different times—not by criminals who steal, lie, cheat…criminals, enemies: they don't break hearts. The people who love you are the ones who can hurt you the easiest, and often times will hurt you the most."
Lee tilted her head to the side a little, and her eyebrows knitted together in an attempt to understand Sylvia's cryptic message. After a moment, Sylvia suddenly smiled and laughed apprehensively.
"Look at the two of us," Sylvia said shakily. "I'm just chatting away and surely, you still have work to accomplish before the day is out. Excuse me…" She started to walk away, but Lee snatched her wrist.
"Sylvia—"
She slowly turned. Lee immediately let go.
"It was Jim…" Lee realized aloud.
"What was Jim?"
"He broke your heart." Lee said quietly.
Sylvia didn't even try to smile. Instead, she admitted unhappily, "More times than I can count."
"He's trying," Lee offered in his defense.
"If it's important enough, one makes time for it," Sylvia insisted calmly. "I have, many times, sacrificed my time, my opportunities, and even my life to be there for him. So far, the only time he has done that is when he wants something from me. Now…hopefully, for your sake, he's a better boyfriend than he is a brother."
"He's going to your wedding," said Lee, gesturing to the door in reference to Jim. "He doesn't care for the groom, I suppose, but he's clearly trying."
Sylvia allowed a small smile to tug the corner of her mouth but nothing more.
"You love him, don't you?" Sylvia said, although it wasn't much of a question.
Lee lifted her chin proudly saying, "Yes. I do."
"Glad to hear it." Sylvia said. She approached Lee, who suppressed the urge to step back, and with good fortune too.
Sylvia hugged her around the shoulders, and then smiled at her.
"If you can make it to the wedding, splendid," said Sylvia with more pep in her voice. "If not, I will understand. I'm guessing Jim is out and about by now—would you remind him? I know how forgetful he can get when he starts hunting people down."
"Sure, I will." Lee promised, nodding earnestly.
"Thanks."
Sylvia smiled one last time before leaving the room.
Her last visit before the ceremony took place at one in the afternoon, in the charming residence of Harvey Bullock's current place of employment, the bar. As she strolled into the simple building, Harvey was speaking with his current girlfriend, Scotty. Hearing the familiar click of her heels, Harvey grinned widely upon seeing Sylvia approach the bar counter.
"Hey!" Harvey laughed. "There's my sister from another mother!"
He clapped her hard on the back as Sylvia managed, "You need to get your eyes checked, Bullock."
"Come bearing gifts of tidings?" Harvey teased. "What's that you got in your hand?"
"Invitations," said Sylvia, handing one each to Harvey and Scotty.
"Ooh!" Scotty gushed. "Congratulations! Weddings are so beautiful. Harvey, we should—"
"Not a chance…" Harvey muttered. "Scotty, would you…?"
Sensing the build-up of tension, Scotty glanced between him and Sylvia and opted to stay out of this one. As she went around the back to occupy herself, Sylvia took a seat on the stool in front of the former cop and smiled expectantly.
"If you're going to try and talk me out of it—"
"I'm not doing that," said Harvey with a sigh of exasperation. "I'd be wasting my breath."
"Yes, you would be."
"And I suppose you got the 'big brother' talk about the birds and bees?"
"I've been fucking Oz for the past year-and-a-half," Sylvia said smoothly. "I'm well-acquainted with the birds and the bees."
Harvey cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows as he groaned, "You have a way with words."
"I've been known to turn a phrase," Sylvia said, clicking her tongue and winking at him.
"Always been a charming trait of yours."
"'Charming', is it?"
"Actually, if we're being honest—"
"Aren't we ever?"
"—Your brutal honesty really turns me on," Harvey teased.
"And your crude humor turns me off."
"Like a dimmer switch."
"Or a breaker box," Sylvia commented.
After a second of stone silence, they broke out in laughter.
"You're a real smart ass," said Harvey, wagging his finger at her. "How did Penguin manage to get a girl like you under his coat tails?"
"A drunk like you couldn't understand," said Sylvia smartly.
"No warning shots, huh?"
"En guard."
"That's what you say before you attack."
"You know how to block." Sylvia said, interlacing her fingers on the table. "Besides, it's all in good fun. How have you really been though? Still sober?"
"As a reformed Christian."
"Impressive. Do you miss the booze?"
"I like a drink from time to time, but I don't really need it."
"I could use a drink right now."
"Having cold feet?" Harvey asked as he turned to gather a bottle of vodka, a tin of ice, and cranberry juice from the back; he returned with all three items and combined them in a glass, placing it in front of her.
"No," said Sylvia truthfully. "It's just the usual nerves. Everything's supposed to go 'perfect' and when things don't…it's a one-time thing, you know."
"Mm-hmm—tell that to the losers that renew their vows."
"It's a romantic gesture."
"A waste of time, if you ask me."
"I didn't."
"I know," said Harvey, winking at her. "So, where's this thing happening, anyway?" (He looked at the invitation.) "Wow, a church. And you of all people."
"Oswald's preference," said Sylvia.
"You don't sound too thrilled."
"You know how I feel about churches. But his mother was a Christian and she raised him in that religion, so I figured, he's entitled to it."
"Does he know you're an atheist?" said Harvey sneakily.
"It's never come up."
"Sounds like a conversation to be had."
"I doubt it," said Sylvia, taking the glass and taking a few sips from it.
"Where's the reception? I might go to that."
"At the mansion."
"Falcone's old place?"
"Yep."
Harvey made a face of impressive agreement, but then he chortled, "Is Falcone invited?"
"I sent out the invitation," said Sylvia calmly. "He's more than happy to attend."
"Does Penguin know?"
"I doubt he'd come so there's no need to tell him."
"24 hours from getting hitched and you're already keeping secrets," Harvey snickered, leaning towards her. "You're already digging yourself a hole, little Vee."
"You should know a thing or two about secrets, Harvey," Sylvia retorted, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Does Scotty know you're into—"
"Whoa! Let's keep that between us!" Harvey said quickly, gesturing madly.
Sylvia said quietly, "Well, if she ever gains 300 pounds, at least you'll still be irrevocably attracted, right?"
"You're such a bitch," Harvey said, shaking his head but smiling.
"And you're an asshole."
"Your brother's an ass-hat."
"You couldn't be more right about that." Sylvia muttered before taking a few more gulps of her drink.
"You finally convince him to come over to the dark side?" Harvey asked, crossing his arms on the counter; he leaned casually to the right, saying, "Never thought I'd see the day. Did you strong-arm him?"
"He said he'd attend."
Harvey chuckled, "Come on, baby. I know you two. You guys got that brother-sister, hate-love relationship. What did you have to do so he'd come to the wedding?"
Sylvia frowned saying, "The fact that you even assume that…" She stopped herself before she continued.
It was Harvey's turn to frown.
"You and Jim are in a deeper pile of doo-doo than I realized," said Harvey seriously.
Sylvia said nothing to that. Instead, she finished her glass and smiled at him, and handed him a twenty-dollar tip.
"He'll come," Harvey said sincerely. "He's a putz, at best, but he wouldn't miss your wedding, little sister. Trust me. If I know Jim like I know him, he will come."
"Thanks, Harv." Sylvia said, smiling at him. "Am I right in assuming you won't be attending?"
"I love you, sweet thing," said Harvey. "But I can't stand Penguin. I'll be there in spirit."
"Can't have you drinking all my booze at the reception anyway," said Sylvia, smirking at him.
"Keep walking!" Harvey said, shooing her out with a hard laugh.
Sylvia left and headed back to the mansion.
It was time to get ready.
