Chapter 36

Harrison opens the folder, revealing several documents and photos held together with a paper clip. He holds the first document up, which includes a picture of a plain, clear face mask.

"This is what Amanda intended for you. It changes your facial features to however you want them to be," he explains.

That's all good and well, but there seems to be a problem.

"Okay, but why don't you have the tech with you? Amanda said this was just going to be a simple pick up," I tell him.

He sighs. Oh boy, here comes the catch.

"You see, that's where things get...complicated. Yes, this was suppose to be an easy job, but on the way here, our tech was stolen by a local criminal," he swaps out the first document for a single picture of a man with wild clown hair and a ridiculous multi-colored jumpsuit, "the Trickster."

I scoff in disbelief at the picture, "Is...is this for real? Because, that man looks less like a criminal, and more like a children's birthday party performer."

"The elaborate costumed outfit, as well as his manic antics, are his signature. He specializes in eccentric weaponry, making our tech his ideal target."

I point to the abnormally large gun strapped to his back, "What's that? One of his toys?"

Harrison nods, "Yep, an 'acid gun', if you can believe that. Pretty crazy, huh?"

"Good thing I deal in crazy," I half-joke, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckles, covering his mouth as he recovers, "Oh you think this is crazy? Just wait until the guys with freeze rays start showing up."

"What?"

"Nothing," he excuses himself, "back on topic. We've pinned down his next...uhm, shall we say: appearance. He's going to rob the Central City Bank in approximately," he pauses to check his watch, "an hour."

I nod, although the time is oddly specific. But there's something not quite right about this situation, and I think I know what it is. I lean back in my chair, "So let me get this straight, you want me to wrangle stolen tech from a deranged criminal because...let me guess, you let him slip past you?"

"Hey, the stuff had already been stolen once I got there, there was nothing I could do," he raises his hands in defense, "look, I'll help you, of course. I need the tech just as much as you do. But I can't do it alone."

Crossing my arms, I twist my lips, "Alright, I'll help you. Just one question: what's in it for you?"

"Huh?" he tilts his head up in surprise.

"I mean: what sort of tech would be so valuable as to interrupt a bank heist by an insane criminal in a clown suit?" I clarify.

He glances around the mostly empty cafe, before leaning in, "All I can say is, it's a computer prototype, and if he figures out what it can do, well, then it won't be just the two of us who're in trouble."

Alright, as a fellow agent, I can understand his need for secrecy, and considering he's probably already told me more than he should, I can accept that.

"Well," I shrug, "what's the plan?"

Ed shuffles past the rush of officers in the GCPD, balancing a full stack of papers that rise just above his head. With Natalie away on business, he is once again left to operate on his own. You'd think working for the police would be a social occupation, but it never feels like he interacts with more than a few select individuals. But perhaps it's due to his specific position, part coroner, part tech support, all underpaid. Or at the very least underappreciated. Like right now for example, this is the third paper errand a random officer has sent him on. Yes, yes, their jobs are very hectic, but shouldn't this be a job for the teenaged interns? Do they even still employ those?

"Nygma!" a voice shrieks, and Ed looks to the side just in time to collide with an officer and knocking him to the ground, his papers flying everywhere.

There's an air of indifference among the other officers as they ignore the situation, continuing with their day as if nothing had happened just then. His glasses now slightly askew, Ed re-adjusts them as he scrambles on all fours to retrieve his papers.

"I-I am so sorry," he apologizes profusely, his head bowed.

The officer rolls his eyes and walks off, not even bothering to help.

Ed's just finishing collecting his papers when Detectives Gordon and Bullock walk out of Captain Essen's office. They're talking, about a case perhaps! And perhaps he can be of service! Ed quickly gathers the rest of the papers and strides over to them while they speak quietly at their desks.

"And where are you going?" Gordon asks his partner.

Bullock rolls his eyes, "To work the case. You've got your ways, I got mine."

Ed's just at the base of the stairs when Bullock begins walking out. Gordon peeks his head up, "Hey, Harvey...tell her I said hi."

Who could they be referring to? His conundrum goes unanswered as Bullock walks right past him. Perhaps he wasn't suppose to have heard that conversation. He decides to feign ignorance for now.

Timidly approaching Detective Gordon, Ed tries his best to secure two separate stacks of paper under his arms, "...detective?"

Gordon looks up, his expression tired and preoccupied, "Yeah Ed?"

"How goes the case, detective? Any leads, anything I could help you with?"

He waves his hand away, "No...Ed, no thanks, I think I can handle this myself."

Despite his decline, Ed looks over the detective's shoulder and sees him holding a paper with some seemingly random letters on it, "Well...perhaps I could at least take a look-"

"Ed!" Gordon shouts, both in defense and annoyance. Ed raises his hands as Gordon calms down.

"I...I'm sorry Ed. It's...it's just been a long day and it would make my day if I could do something right on my own once in a while."

He slowly nods, "I, I understand detective. I'll be out of your way now," he turns around and begins shuffling down the stairs. Just as he makes it to the base of the stairs, an incoming officer bumps into him, causing him to lose grip on the papers and sending them scattering to the floor once more.

"Rats."

Harrison drives us to the Central City Bank in his black van filled with electrical equipment. I look behind my seat, where servers and monitors are strapped down or packed away.

"That's government property, no way could I afford to get all that on my own," he explains, as he turns left.

I examine his car radio, "Do you guys get Gotham City Radio?"

He twists his lip, "I...think we do. Try the AM channels."

His eyes glance over briefly as I turn on the radio and fiddle with the knob, "So you're from Gotham City then? I mean, unless you're from there, I wouldn't understand why you'd want to listen to that depressing channel...no offense."

I turn the knob just a little more until a familiar voice comes through the speakers.

"-we're talking about the Arkham vote with John Ryder and myself. John, how do you think the Arkham district should be utilized?"

"Honestly Vince, a garbage dump in the middle of town would be a waste of space, the mayor's plan for housing much more economical. Besides, if we really need to dump our garbage, that's what we have Bludhaven for, right?!"

I sigh, "Ugh, I forgot, it's the politics hour."

Harrison nods understandably, "Politics in Gotham, heh, its no wonder the people there go mad."

"So you're saying I'm mad? Well, Central City isn't perfect either, everything's so trendy and modern, not to mention coffee costs an arm-and-a-leg," I counter.

He laughs, "Hey, the coffee here might be expensive, but you can't deny it's effective. And besides, I'm not even from Central City, I just arrived here a little while ago."

I raise an eyebrow, "Oh really? Where are you from?"

He pulls up on the other side of the street from the Central City Bank, "We're here."

We unbuckle our seat belts and slide to the back of the van. Harrison grabs a piece of cloth and throws it at me, "Put this on."

I hold it up, realizing it's a t-shirt with a large, adorable teddy bear stamped on the front, "Uhm...why?"

"Trust me, it'll help, there's also a mic hidden on the sleeve, so that we can communicate inside," he explains.

"So, what's the plan exactly?" I ask, lowering myself under the seat so that I can change.

He flips a couple of switches on the monitors, and they suddenly come flaring to life, the bright screens blinding against the dark interior of the van.

"You are to infiltrate the bank from the roof. Trickster is going to most likely come in from the front entrance because he's...subtle like that. So that means he'll hit Vault A first. Your job is to catch him inside the vault."

I cross my arms, "So I take it you're not coming with me?"

Harrison puts on a pair of headphones with a mic attached, "I will be your eyes and ears. That t-shirt has a tracking device on it as well, so I'll be able to guide you through the process from here," he looks down on the floor and picks up something hidden under the monitor, "oh yeah, you'll also need this."

He tosses me a utility belt, standard for all agents, filled to the brim with pockets and gadgets. I buckle it on, organizing it with my daggers and marbles, "Thanks."

There's a scream from outside, and we both rush to the window to see a singular man in a jumpsuit with patches of different colors skipping through the street with a flamethrower. He laughs hysterically as he sets a sidewalk tree on fire, spraying flames until it's completely ablaze.

"He has a flamethrower?!" I exclaim.

"Hey, I thought you said you deal in crazy," Harrison reminds me.

"I said I deal in crazy, not in pyrotechnics.

The Trickster stands at the steps of the bank entrance, where he cackles at nothing in particular before kicking the door open, "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, the entertainment has arrived," he announces grandly, blowing a spurt of fire into the air.

"You're window of time is running out, once he finishes up with the tellers he'll head for the vault, you have to get before him. Go!" Harrison opens the van door and pushes me out, closing it behind me.

I roll my eyes, "Rude."

"I heard that," Harrison's voice comes in from somewhere in my shirt.

I start walking toward the bank, fumbling around with my shirt until I discover a small, hidden earpiece from which the noise was coming from. Attaching it to my ear, I next reach into my utility belt and pull out the grappling gun contained in one of the pockets. Rounding the corner to the side of the building, I aim the gun at the roof detail before firing, watching the hook fly up and latch onto the detail. Pressing the trigger, the line retracts, sending me zipping up to the roof. It's great having a utility belt again, it's like having a Deus Ex Machina strapped to your hips.

"Okay, you'll want to get in through the second skylight to your right, it'll lead you to the floor above Vault A. From there there's a vent that'll take you directly to the inside of Vault A," Harrison instructs.

"Isn't that kind of insecure?" I ask.

"The people of Central City are very trusting. Nutsos like the Trickster are usually Gotham City's stock and trade."

I nod in agreement, but even Gotham's crazies aren't this crazy.

Replacing my grappling gun for a glass cutter, I carve a hole in the skyline just big enough for me to fit in. Setting the glass aside and jumping through the hole, I silently land on the polished marble floor of the bank. I look around until I spot the vent Harrison described. Unscrewing the bolts on the protective grate, I quietly slip into the cramped vent, closing the grate behind me.

The vent ducts are narrow and claustrophobic, no wonder Harrison couldn't do this himself. Although thin, his tall frame would've had trouble wiggling through here. He's lucky I'm so tiny.

I can't help but make a ton of noise as I squirm through the straight shot of ducts leading to the vault. Hopefully I can get out of here fast without arousing any suspicion.

The Trickster's maniacal laugh echoes through the vents. Either these vents have great resonance, or he's close.

The vent ducts slope down until I realize I must be right under the vault.

The laughing continues as the sound of the Trickster's flamethrower blazes somewhere in the building.

"Here kitty, kitty," the Trickster snivels, his voice low and mischievous.

I jump as the vent duct in front of me becomes red, before collapsing completely. I turn around and start scrambling in the other direction only to scream when the metal directly under my hands becomes scorching hot. The vent under my body gives way and I fall out from the hole in the vent, tumbling onto the cold granite floor. My hands burn from the heat, and I look up to find the Trickster standing directly above me, a cheshire grin plastered across his face, flamethrower in hand.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Author's Note: How's Ed's third person POV? Would you like to see more?

Emily: Here's the next chapter! Doesn't touch on the bet but once we go to Oswald's POV it certainly will

UndercoverSkeleton: Oh, I see, I was wondering where your review was (I hate it when I lose a regular reviewer, you guys are so much fun!). But lol, I don't even bother with FF mobile, since it's so finicky at times (wish they had an app).

Onto the chapter, writing Oswald/Natalie conversations is so much fun, especially when they pertain to topics of romance. And I specifically decided to put in some Ed scenes since so many people are asking for him, although he physically can't cross over to Central City universe due to the laws of television. As for Harrison, he's (and the Central City universe) from the TV show "The Flash", so if you watch that show, you know who he is, and if you don't, don't worry, you don't really need to

Fuchsia Grasshopper: I've found that finding an even balance of romance and story is best for me, rather than relying on one or the other. But for me, in the end, the romance has to serve the story, and not the other way around. And that knife is actually the knife he has in the show (the one he steals from the fisherman and is later seen using to kill people and cut apples). And I don't think Ed's break will happen anytime soon, as they haven't even hinted at it in the show. But when it does, I'll be ready ;)

HappyPenguinHologram: Ah, thanks! And no, this is the second time they've exchanged the "I love you"s (the first time being on the fire escape, West Side Story style). And lol, who said it's a relationship? (except maybe Oswald) But I know how you feel, although I think I'd prefer my IRL relationship to being with Oswald personally

jasper-jordan: He's mad, but he's biding his time until the right moment to unleash his anger. And yes, I'm waiting for them to meet, but I'm also realizing how unfeasible it is at this stage. Even so, Gotham writers answer my prayer! And that's an interesting point, with Oswald having an influence on Ed. About your fanfic, if you want help I'll gladly answer any questions or read it over should you need it.

And yeah, next chapter, Oswald gets to have a moment

Guest: Thanks, hope you enjoy this next chapter :)

Thanks! :)