Pockets
A/N: I'm becoming extremely busy IRL and in writing. I'm going to be showering another one of my criminal/psychotic favourites with their own 10 chapter story a little like Boss. Eobard Thawne's getting his turn in the spotlight - soon. Aper pt 3 is not quite finished. So have this instead. For Batty, who has faithfully reminded me that Edward used to visit a little place called Pandora's Box. It's a rather niche club - don't make me spell it out for you. He knows the doorman by name. Comic-canon, I can assure you lovely readers. I also tried to keep it entirely SFW but the subject matter dictates at least a passing knowledge of NSFW.
You all know why we settled on this particular fetish. You know.
Laundry day was the most hated day of the week for Dead Switch. It wasn't the unimaginable stains on her favourite shirts that were the problem, or the judicious use of hydrogen peroxide she was forced to contend with to make some articles of clothing semi-wearable again, it was The Suits. Edward was fastidious about his suits and had over a dozen in any one location at any given time. He also had high standards when it came to how his suits should be treated - especially when it came to being cleaned. Only the very best for his beloved suits - an upscale laundromat in upper Gotham.
The problem was, he never emptied his pockets - ever. She had learned that fairly early on with a fountain pen and a pack of tissues. Deborah now thoroughly raided his clothing pockets for anything that might be in them before she loaded them into the garment bag for delivery.
Today's haul from a suit she didn't think he'd worn in years was: 1x Rubiks Cube, completed. 1x napkin drawing of a deathtrap with stick-figure Batman yelling for help, 4x question mark paperclips, a dried up fountain-pen and, finally, An aging flyer for something called Pandora's Box (looked like a nightclub of some kind, an awful lot of leather and latex on it) with the other side advertising something called The Foxglove. She wasn't sure how he managed to pick up things like this.
Was that everything? No - she could still feel something hard and lumpy - missed the hidden breast pocket. It wasn't an old phone, was it? He was forever damaging them and just flinging them everywhere.
Her hand sheepishly slid into the silk-lined pocket and fished out the offending object. It was leather, dyed green, and silver plated by the looks of it. A round rubber ball in the middle. For a second, she couldn't work out what she was looking at and then she realised what it was.
The flyer suddenly made a whole lot more sense, now.
She wasn't a kidnapping expert, but she figured that this wasn't for a potential hostage - that was what duct tape was for. This looked... Personal.
Edward's, then. Why would Edward even have something like thi- No. No she wouldn't believe it.
Riddler was a paraphiliac. She smirked ever so slightly as she set it to one side and checked over the rest of the suit. It made sense, when she thought about it. He really liked talking - hearing himself talk. Being in control.
This little Offending Item spoke differently. At least, in one aspect of his lifestyle.
Interesting. What could she do with this information? She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about disseminating this little tidbit everywhere - Crane would love confirmation - but this was obviously something he felt he needed to hide.
She folded up the suit into the bag and zipped it closed. The rest of the stuff could wait until she got back to sort through - but the leather and rubber thing was going to have to come with her. There was no way she could leave it out for someone to find, she wasn't cruel enough to let other people speculate about his habits - the thugs did so like to talk. It must've been in the suit for a while and was in need of a good clean before she decided on what to do with it.
'What's all this?' Edward Nigma demanded as he stared at the bounty collected on the kitchen table. 'Oh, I've been looking for that!' A hand reached across and picked up the finished rubik's cube.
'Haul from your suit pockets, boss. Rotating and cleaning them. It's storage 3's turn.' Deborah noted.
'Storage 3. Storage 3…' Edward mused as he expertly rotated the cube. It clattered to the floor as he went white and asked 'The forest green business jacket? Was that in there?'
She looked up at his face and resisted the urge to smirk. 'The one with the silk lined pockets? Yeah.'
He hastily attempted to cover up his panic and coughed. 'Did you empty all the pockets?'
'Why, Edward, of course I did.' She admonished playfully as she began to separate the items.
'Was there anything … unusual?' He asked carefully.
'Mmm, no.' She replied and ignored the way he was watching her. 'There was the cube, a napkin, a pen some paperclips, a leaflet - Oh! Something else. I cleaned it and put it on the bed.'
Edward winced and disappeared. Slow enough not to arouse questions about where the fire was, but quick enough that she could pick up on his urgency.
She smiled to herself as she picked up the leaflet and binned it.
Yeah, the ball-gag was his.
