A Henchman Calls

Jim glanced at his watch. It was getting kinda late now - he wondered when Oswald was going to turn up….

He always tried not to worry. He knew now that Oz's gang was loyal to him - all of the guys had his back, and that pleased him no end. Besides, Oz was a canny little trickster when all was said and done. He was a born survivor. In Oswalds own words, he was "quite difficult to kill".

He had shrugged and grinned demonically when he'd said it, all those moons ago - when he had turned up on Jim's doorstep, and surprised him by being alive after all.

Jim had felt a huge surge of relief when he had been faced with this apparition, but he had tried so hard not to show it. He hadn't wanted Oswald to know how he really felt, and so he had spoken to him in his habitual brusque manner.

However, he had tried to dissuade him from putting himself in danger by continuing his obsessive search for the group who ruled Gotham - who Jim knew was the powerful and deadly Court of Owls. He knew Oswald could come to serious harm if he found them and had wanted to protect him by warning him off.

But - of course - Oswald had taken no notice of Jim's 'friendly advice'. Thankfully, Jim's fears for his friend's safety had been unfounded, which seemed to back up Oswald's claim that he was invincible. In fact, Oswald had ended up saving Jim's life - not for the first time - by turning up in the nick of time, to which Jim had responded ungratefully - as was his wont. This was another favour that had received no thanks from Jim, and that Jim had felt bad about ever since.

Jim continued to fret that his 'invincible' gangster could still come to harm. He had a titanium spirit, and his brain was as bright as a polished diamond - but his body wasn't made of steel. He was still flesh and blood, when all was said and done. And things could still go horribly wrong if the circumstances were right.

He always urged Oswald to contact him if he happened to be in a tight spot - if all else failed and he ended up needing Jim's protection. But he had heard nothing from him all day, and although no news should be good news, in Oz's case it was unlike him not to be in touch at all - no matter how busy or occupied he was.

He usually managed at least to send Jim a quick reassuring text, just to say "Miss you," or "Don't wait up," or , when Oz was feeling a tad more mischievous and humorous, "I'm alive, Jim!"

If he had tried to call and Jim's phone happened to be off - or if Jim was 'otherwise engaged' and unable to pick up his calls, Oswald would leave him a voicemail message.

If Oswald was feeling out of sorts, the message would sound cross and panicky: "Jim, your phone is turned off. Why?! Please call me back when you pick this up!"

Jim would respond immediately, thinking it was a life or death situation, more often than not to find that Oz just wanted him to pick him up some peanut butter from the grocery store on the way back from work.

Ozzy loved his peanut butter - which had to be smooth, not crunchy. Jim made the mistake of getting the crunchy variety just once - and he had never forgotten it. His sweet little Ozzy had thrown a tetchy tantrum, insisting that it had to be taken back to the store and replaced right away. Then when Jim had returned, bearing the correct kind of his little devil's favourite spread, Ozzy had become extremely remorseful, nuzzling up to him, and saying 'Sorry I shouted, dear," in his soft, seductive voice. He had explained that he had had low blood sugar and this had drastically affected his mood. Jim had forgotten to be angry, and had just melted and forgiven him - as usual.

And the make up sex had been out of this world! He hadn't realised just how creative Oz could get with a jar of peanut butter….he had made sure that they were well stocked up on it since then, and had not minded so much when his fiance and he happened to have a tiff….knowing what he could possibly look forward to later...

If Oz was in a more stable state of mind, his message would, of course, be sweeter. A particularly memorable one of this type went: "Hey, James dear, it's me - Ozzy! I'm sorry, I'll be back late tonight. Things here are getting somewhat complex (don't worry though, dear, I'm in no danger, things are just getting a tad annoying, shall we say, ha ha!). Anyway, I'll be back as soon as I can - don't wait up. Keep the bed warm for me - I'll be there as soon as I can! Oh, and by the way - love you, Jim. Mwah, that's me kissing you, ok?"

Jim had kept that recording, filing it away in his archived message folder. When he was having a bad day and feeling low or lonely without Oz, he would play it over and over again. If he was completely alone at home, waiting for Oswald to return, he would put it on speaker and carry it around listening to Oswald's dulcet tones, and it would warm his heart and make him break out in a smile. It was such a beautiful message, and hearing Oswald end with 'Love you, Jim," and his emphatic kiss, was the icing on the cake.

Jim had also snaffled a fragrant silk square that his dapper little dandy had once put aside - after dabbing it on his face to freshen himself up - and then forgotten all about. Jim had picked it up and pressed it to his face, feeling the soft silk soothing his skin and inhaling Oswald's enticing sandalwood and cedarwood scent. Jim had hung onto the handkerchief, keeping it inside the breast pocket of his coat. The smell of the cologne had long since faded but Jim still didn't want to part with it and consign it to the laundry basket.

He had never thought he could get so ridiculously sentimental over anyone. It just wasn't in his makeup - Jim Gordon, the strong silent type who hardly ever showed his emotions. He could still hardly believe how much Oswald had got under his skin and how passionate he felt about him. He knew he should probably be embarrassed about it, but he wasn't. And he didn't care that he wasn't. He didn't give two hoots if people made fun of him or criticised him for being so transparent about how much he loved his little gangster. He only gave a damn about what Oswald thought - and it was patently obvious to him what that was!

However, the reason behind Oswald's continued eerie silence was something that he cared very much about! He was really unnerved that his fiance still hadn't been in touch. He had resorted to chasing up Oswald, the boot being on the other foot for a change - and each time he had tried, Oswald's phone had been switched off….

In an attempt to distract himself from his anxious reflections, Jim thought about what they would have to eat once Oswald arrived home. Because he would be coming back - of course he would!

Jim had bought a quiche for supper, and some dressed salad to go with it. The weather was too warm for cooking, and he'd had an inkling that Oz was going to get in late. He would only need to whip the food out of the fridge and onto the plate when his tired-out fiance came in through the door - which he hoped would be very soon. A glass of fine wine and a light but tasty supper, accompanied by a kiss and a cuddle, would be all that the doctor ordered.

That morning, Oswald had warned him that 'something big was going down,' followed swiftly by his reassurance that "There's no need to worry though Jim, it won't affect you - I'll make sure of that."

"I wasn't worrying about that," Jim had retorted, and he had reached out and grabbed Oswald's hand, stopping him in his tracks as he was about to hurry out of the door.

Oswald had turned sharply and given Jim a withering glance. "Jim….please….I need to go, now!" he had insisted, his lips pouting with indignation and then tightening into a thin line of petulance.

Jim had furrowed his brow sternly. "Listen - Oswald - it's you I'm concerned about. Look, sweetheart - you will be careful, won't you? And if you need my help, please - call me, OK?" He had squeezed Oswald's hand hard.

"Yes, yes dear, of course I will," Ozzy had replied placatingly. "Now, if you don't mind..I need to go….see you later, Jim." He had swung in and given Jim a quick peck on the lips and turned away to leave, but Jim had refused to release Oswald's hand, holding on to it for dear life.

Oswald had turned back again with a crabby look of forced patience. "Let me go please, James," he had demanded stiffly, tugging away at Jim's hand to try and get free.

But Jim had moved forward and trapped his lover in an ardent, pythonesque embrace.

"Keep still, mister, you're not leaving yet!" he'd rasped, as Oswald had attempted in vain to wriggle out of Jim's vice-like grip. His deep blue gaze had stared back at Oswald's startled face with grim determination.

"Jim, Jim, for God's sake - don't! I need to leave now!" Oswald had protested frantically.

"Hold still Cobblepot!" Jim had growled, undeterred by Oswald's urgent, panicking tone. "D'you call that tiny little kiss a proper goodbye? This needs to last us all day long….." And his lips had latched onto Oswald's mouth and initiated a long, lingering, passionate smooch that had made Oswald's toes curl up inside his shiny patent shoes.

Oswald had stopped struggling, clearly realising that resistance was futile. Jim had felt Oswald's body go limp inside his arms and his sweet mouth finally, willingly, surrendering to the action of Jim's lips. His shallow breaths became slow and steady, and his hands slid up to Jim's chest, his fingers grasping and twisting the material on Jim's shirt.

"There - that's much better, don't ya think?" Jim had remarked, as he had released Oswald from his amorous clutches, and after their mouths had parted with a soft sucking sound.

Oswald had huffed, then cleared his throat and hastily fastened up his coat, a self-conscious blush appearing on his cheeks. He had quickly preened himself, pulling at the little tufts of his newly-vamped hair to make sure that they were still in place.

"I hate you, Jim Gordon. Now I AM going to be late!" he had announced primly.

"Well, you would purse up those pretty lips at me, Oswald Cobblepot!" Jim had retorted playfully.

"Oh, so it's my own fault, is it?" Oswald had rebutted brightly, unable to resist the urge to be playful in return. "Well, I'm not sure how I will explain that to my eight o'clock appointment - which will now be more like eight-thirty! Still, never mind, I suppose it was worth it….it's a shame though that you started something I don't have time to finish…." He had arched his eyebrow suggestively before finally making his escape.

Jim jumped as he heard the doorbell ring. He only then realised that he was smiling. The memory of that incredible goodbye clinch had made him drift off to a kind of temporary Nirvana.

His smile instantly became a frown - then became a smile again just as quickly.

Could it be Oswald? Had he forgotten his key? Naaaa, he never forgot his key. Still, there was a first time for everything. He could always hope.

The bell started ringing again, accompanied by loud, urgent knocking.

"OK, OK, hold your fire - I'm coming!" Jim shouted out as he marched to the door. He flung it open, fully prepared to give Oswald a good-humoured reprimand for being so raucous and impatient.

"Ah, um, hi there, Detective Gordon."

"Oh….hello…."

Jim's heart sank like a stone….what the hell was HE doing here?

"Erm - can I come in?" Gabe asked tentatively. He shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable.

"Sure." Jim knitted his brows in bewilderment as he stepped aside to allow Gabe's colossal form to cross over the threshold.

This was a surprise - and not a pleasant one. Instead of his pretty, dapper, elegant little gent, here was his gent's gigantic, shambling henchman.

He suddenly came out in a cold sweat. Why would Gabe be calling around here - when his boss was nowhere to be seen, as well as being out of contact for the whole day?

"So, Gabe," he said levelly, trying his best to sound calm and matter-of-fact. He put his hands on his hips, Detective-Gordon-style. "What can I do for you?""

"Well, y'see, Detective Gordon - well, it's about the boss…"

"It's about Oswald?" Jim said, feeling and hearing a note of panic in his voice. "Is...well, is everything ok?"

"Erm yeah, well, sorta..."

"What do you mean, 'sorta'?" Jim heard the fear threaten to escape out through his lips. His voice had a tremor in it that was hard to disguise. He tried to swallow down his fear.

"He..well, he won't be comin' home…" Gabe looked apologetic.

"Not comin' - I mean, not coming home?!" Jim almost jumped down Gabe's throat.

"Hey, now, just a second, Detective Gordon! I was just goin' to say he won't be comin' home until late. He's takin' a while to - erm - conclude his business, if you get my drift!" Gabe chuckled and winked meaningfully.

"Oh..oh, right. He's just going to be late...OK...OK….." Jim was suddenly aware that he was shaking and his mouth had gone dry. His heart was banging in his chest and he was breathing hard. He wiped his hand across his brow and sighed with intense relief.

"Ohhhhhhh wait a minute - I geddit - you thought somethin' had, well, happened to him?"

"Well - he hadn't come home yet, I'd heard nothing from him - and then you came alone, looking and sounding concerned, so….yes, Gabe, I did think something might have happened to him."

Jim spoke with forced patience, as if addressing a slow-witted child. He fought off the overwhelming urge to add, "You dimwit! You almost scared me to death!"

"Awww, no, he's okay. He's always ok, that one! As I said before - he's just gonna be late. His phone battery died, see, so he couldn't call - and he knew you'd worry, so he sent me round to tell ya. Sorry 'bout the misunderstanding." Gabe grinned sheepishly and folded his hands in front of him humbly.

Jim didn't know whether to punch Gabe in the face for giving him such a fright or hug him for then putting his mind at rest. He decided to do neither. This was Gabe, after all.

But in any case, he was highly relieved to know that Oswald would be coming home to him in one piece.

He suddenly wondered why Oswald had sent round his chief henchman to deliver such a straightforward message. Surely there were others who were lower down in the ranks who could have performed such a simple task - and maybe even expressed themselves less clumsily?

"Anyway, Detective Gordon - I'd better be gettin' back…."

"Wait, Gabe," Jim interjected, "Before you go, there's something I want to say to you."

Jim remembered that he owed Gabe a huge debt of gratitude for saving his fiance's life. His crafty little Cobblepot must have had an ulterior motive for sending Gabe on this routine errand.

"Um - there is?" Gabe looked puzzled.

"Yes there is. Gabe, I just want to thank you for what you did the other day - when Oswald was in danger, and you and all the other men stood up for him and protected him."

"Awww, well, that was nuttin'...I was just doin' my job, y'know," grinned Gabe bashfully.

"No Gabe, it wasn't nut - it wasn't nothing, and you weren't just doing your job. You stood by him and stayed loyal and you put your own life on the line for him. You can't know how much that means to both of us. I could...well, I could have lost him that day, he was brave and I'm proud of him for that, but it could have cost him his life. I'm thankful you were there to back him up and keep him out of harm's way."

"No problem. It was my pleasure, Detective Gordon - really. As I said to the boss, if there's one thing I can't stand - it's a bully, and if it's one thing I hate even more - it's a bully with PREJUDICE. Erm - congratulations, by the way." He coughed awkwardly and looked away for a second.

"Thanks, Gabe," Jim smiled. "That means a lot too."

"AND," Gabe continued, "Between you and me, I felt SO bad for the boss when his mother got murdered by those Galavans. Really got me, here." He laid his hand on his heart. "He was devastated, poor fella, and no wonder, I said to myself. A mother's love - well, there ain't nuttin' like it, and that Galavan, well, he took it from him. I offered to whack that sonofabitch for him, but he would NOT hear of it, no sir, he said…."

"Erm, OK Gabe, anyway - thanks again," Jim frowned. "Please don't let me hold you up any longer…."

Oswald was delighted with the welcome he received when he got through the door.

"Thank God - it's you! At last!" Jim embraced him, then cupped his face and gave him an emphatic kiss.

"Oh - Jim - such enthusiasm, such passion - I love it!"

Oswald kissed Jim back and fluttered his lashes at him. Jim visibly weakened.

"Here, let me do that for you," Jim insisted, as Oswald went to take off his coat. "You must be exhausted!"

"Oh, thank you Jim - you're a gentleman! Yes, I am a tad weary, I have to admit!" Oswald sighed gratefully, as he stood and allowed Jim to disrobe him.

Jim slowly and carefully removed Oswald's jacket. Once he was free, Oswald groaned with relief, yawning and then stretching out his arms like a bird preparing for flight.

The rich purple silk lining of the jacket, as well as the matching silk waistcoat, was now revealed to Jim - along with Oswald's slender waist and hips and fine angular shoulders. The sight of that gorgeous physique was something that Jim looked forward to every day.

"Go and sit down and take the weight off your feet while I hang this up," Jim invited.

"Thank you, James." Oswald limped off towards the couch, pulling at the knot in his tie as he went.

He sat down wearily, finished taking off his tie and unfastened the top two buttons on his stiff shirt, as he always did after a 'hard day's kingpinning', as he liked to put it.

He cast aside the tie joyfully and sat back on the sofa, closing his tired, dry eyes...he just needed to rest them for a moment….

When he opened them he realised that he must have fallen asleep.

Oswald blinked his bleary eyes and then focussed on Jim's smiling face gazing at him sympathetically as he stood over him bearing a glass of red wine.

"Hmmmm. Mr Cobblepot, maybe I should pack you straight off to bed! You look done in!"

"No, no Jim, please - I am fine. I would love a glass of wine - thank you! Go and pour yourself one while you are at it."

"There's quiche in the fridge if you're hungry too. Did you eat at all today?"

Oswald looked coy and bit his lip, but said nothing.

"I knew it! Oh Oz, you must be starving by now!"

"Erm - well, I am feeling rather peckish, although I thought I'd 'gone past it' by now, as they say! I would love some quiche. Erm...have you eaten, Jim?"

"Erm, yeah, I had something earlier.." Jim lied, but Oswald could see right through it.

"No you didn't - you're just being polite! Honestly, James! We're as bad as one another!" Oswald huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. Well, we can make up for it now."

He kissed Oswald and handed him the wine glass. He went away and came back bearing a plate laden with slices of Quiche Lorraine and some napkins.

They sat side by side and demolished the whole plateful, washing it down with the wine.

"That's better," Oswald sighed contentedly, patting his abdomen with satisfaction. "Jim, you are spoiling me!"

"Nonsense! Now - sweetheart - just relax." Jim got to his knees and started to unlace Oswald's right shoe.

"Oh, Jim - you angel. I couldn't face taking them off myself! And they are killing my feet…." Oswald almost cried with gratitude.

"That's what I thought….just take it easy, right?"

"I certainly will, Jim dear. Thank you."

Oswald yawned emphatically, covering his mouth politely. He had been sorely tried, but at least it was now all behind him for another day….and now, his gorgeous man was being so kind and generous...which made all his problems seem to fade into insignificance.

He gave an intense sigh of satisfaction as Jim removed his shoes.

Once his feet were completely free of their shackles, he wiggled his toes, chuckling gleefully.

"Ohhh, James - dear James! I cannot express to you just how fabulous that feels!" He leaned back in his chair, stretching himself out like a contented cat.

He glanced down at Jim, who was still kneeling at his feet. "I love you, Detective Gordon!" he declared, his blue eyes misted with emotion.

"Ditto - beautiful," Jim grinned. "Anyway - I bet you wonder why I'm still kneeling down here on the floor, right?"

"Well, yes, I was a tad curious….."

"It's just that...I bet your feet are still hurting - right?" Jim remarked pointedly.

Oswald nodded slowly. "Actually, Jim dear - yes, they are feeling pretty sore."

"OK then, well, allow me…."

Jim peeled off the sock on Oswald's right foot slowly and carefully, smiling up at him. "Would you like a foot massage?" he asked.

"Ooh - would I?!" Oswald exclaimed in the affirmative, his eyes lighting up and his long raven lashes fluttering with childlike excitement. "Erm...the only thing is, Jim - I hope my feet don't smell bad. They've done a lot of hard work for me today!"

"They don't. They don't smell bad at all. They smell very fresh and clean, Oz."

"Ahh, good. That deodorant really does do what it says on the tin!" Oswald chuckled.

"Clearly. You have pretty feet, too - did I ever tell you that?" Jim took hold of Oswald's foot gently, supporting his heel with his right hand and stroking its sole lightly with his left thumb.

"Ohhhh - do I really? Well, erm, no, don't think you did, but..thank you - ooh that does feel good…."

Jim continued to stroke Oswald's foot with soft, featherlight movements, spurred on by many sounds of encouragement from his fatigued little fiance. Then he started rubbing the ball of Oswald's foot with firm circular motions. "Oh, yes!" Oswald groaned, "That feels good, Jim….so good…."

"I'm sorry I got so grumpy with you this morning," Oswald said. Jim's hands had just given his feet and ankles an extremely thorough and therapeutic massage, and he was feeling remarkably mellow and well-disposed. "You are an angel, James dear. I feel so much better now. My feet - and my legs - they feel better too, Jim. Especially - erm, you know - the problem one. It's nowhere near as painful now! You really do have healing hands, y'know."

"D'you think so? Well, that's good, Oz - I'm glad to do it for you - and I enjoyed doing it to you. And - well, about this morning... please don't apologise for being angry with me. You were worried about being late, and I was kinda out of order really. I wanted a proper kiss, and I was being selfish about it - I wasn't listening to you."

"James - let me confess something to you. Even though I was late for my meeting, and even though I was cross with you, it was worth it to have that beautiful kiss from you! I enjoyed it very much."

"Oh, Oswald. I'm so glad you feel that way about it. It was a great kiss, wasn't it? Anyway, I don't know about you, but now I think I'm ready to hit the hay…."