Chapter Sixty-Six: Helping The Help

"I was right." Alex said for the umpteenth time.

He sat across from Sylvia's desk in her office at Lean on Vee's, looking at her imploringly, seeking out his own validation from her lips. She smoked a cigarette distractedly; the woman's mind was always somewhere where she physically wasn't, more importantly, where he was concerned.

She had every intention of taking the day off—until she remembered to check on her club. And here she was, still, three hours later.

"Sylvia."

"What?"

Alex stood, leaning over the desk. She met his eyes with a hint of annoyance.

"I was right about Jill, right?"

"Of course, you were. I told you that already."

"Did you know that Zsasz has a thing for your bartender?"

Sylvia startled at the sudden change of topic, but if it meant not having to relieve her ex-boyfriend of his own incessant insecurities, she was happy to meet his flitty observations with a cool response of her own.

"I'm aware."

"When we hung out together," said Alex, sitting back in the chair lazily, "he bought us a meal. Got a cookie for your boy, Marcus."

"Sounds like him. Did he get a milkshake?"

"Yeah."

"Vanilla?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Victor's favorite." Sylvia answered listlessly. "If you ever want to make his day, get him a pepperoni pizza." She tapped the end of her cigarette against the ash tray in front of her.

Alex surveyed her current disposition with intrigue. She sat in her chair with the appeal of a casual heiress; one leg hung off the arm while the other foot seated on the floor. The straps of her snugly fit tank-top hung off one shoulder as she seemed in disrepair, but honestly, this was the most relaxed he'd seen her in a long time.

"So, Jill got a good time in Black Gate, I hear." Alex said passively, glancing from her to the desk so he could appear like he didn't care, but evidently, that smooth move didn't work on her.

"For the fifth time, yes. I told you she and her little boyfriend got time in Black Gate."

"That means I was right."

"Yes…you were right."

"So, you can trust me now…?"

Sylvia tilted her head to the side, but her eyes met his. While he implored for her to fully trust him as she did Victor Zsasz, there was something else in her eyes that looked back at him. It couldn't have been annoyance; that had been there since this morning after she'd come to the club when she'd finished talking to the twins at the mansion.

"I trust that you know what you're talking about when it comes to flaky staff members."

"But if you had to give me a good contract, you'd give it to me first?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Alex sighed irritably, rolling his eyes.

Sylvia put out her cigarette out in the ash tray, looking him over. It was the same expression Brittany or Delilah had when she wasn't understanding them. Since the last two had betrayed her and the last one's fuck toy had hurt her in a horrible way, Sylvia's radar flickered with the sense that something was up.

"What do you want from me, Alex?" She asked patiently. "You're already working for me. That's what you wanted in the beginning, remember?"

"Right. Right, that's what I wanted."

"And I gave that to you."

"Right, you did."

"But you're frustrated." She indicated his gruff mannerisms. "Obviously, it's not all you want."

"I just want you to trust me."

"And I do."

"Not the same way you trust Zsasz."

"And what way is that?"

"You and him." Alex stated, glancing at her and behind him as though indicating the hitman's existence in general, even though Victor was currently out of town, visiting his rambunctious grandmother. "You guys act like a married couple, so much that people assume…"

"Assume what?"

"You know what."

"I do," Sylvia confirmed. "I just want to hear you say it."

"You're not fucking him, are you?"

"Is that what this is really about?"

"No. It's not—"

"Yes, it is. You're jealous of Victor." Sylvia said knowingly, lifting her leg and placing it beside the other one so she could stand. "You're jealous of our friendship."

"No, I'm not. I just want you to be…"

"What do you want from me?"

"I want…I want you."

Sylvia frowned when he stood and emphatically gesticulated to her. Just when she thought they had an understanding; this always came up. At least when she had this same conversation back with Edward Nygma, the man had been smart enough and understanding enough that he didn't badger her to death.

"What do you mean when you say you want me."

"In the way I can only mean it." Alex said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"So, you are jealous."

"That's not obvious enough?"

"Well, you're acting jealous as I know you always are when I associate myself with another man, but you're telling me you're not jealous. Mixed messages aren't my cup of tea."

"It's not like I want you to sleep with me."

"That can't be farther from the truth," Sylvia sighed. She strode past him; Alex grabbed her.

"You don't understand! It's not like I don't not want you. If you're…I mean, if you were giving, I'd be taking. Not that I would try to, or anything!"

She glared at his hand holding her arm tightly and he quickly pulled away.

"Sylvia, what can I say or do to make you want to be with me again?"

"There's nothing you can say, Rooster. God, we've been through this so many times—"

"—I know, but I can't live without—"

"—Well, you'll have to learn how!" Sylvia snapped, glaring him. She gestured to the office. "You work here because you want to work here. I don't need you to work here for me; if you aren't happy, you can leave. But there's nothing you can say that will make me want to be with you. No words that you can use or that are in your fucking vocabulary that will make me want to be with you in any shape or form!"

"But, Sylvia—"

"No! 'But' nothing!"

There was a knock on the door frame. Sylvia and Alex glanced around to see Edward Nygma opening the door. He peeped his head inside the doorway and said sternly, "Sylvia, I need to talk to you for a minute."

"We're talking!" Alex said snidely.

Ed glared at him coolly as much as he could. Sylvia waved him to the side and said apologetically, "Give us a moment, would you, Ed?"

"Sure." He closed the door, staying outside; but he did lean over the edge of the balcony's rail, taking in the conventional atmosphere.

Alex frowned, turning to glare at Sylvia again.

"You honestly don't feel anything for me? After all I've done for you?"

"Only the occasional minor annoyance and subtle disappointment," She responded with a sarcastic smile. "I told you before that the only relationship we will have is a business one. I'm appreciative of what you've done for me, but that's all I have."

"Just let me say one more thing."

"There's nothing you can say, Alex."

"But one more thing. One more thing, okay?"

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

Alex stepped towards her.

"You mean a great deal to me. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are probably one of the best people I know…"

"Are you done?" Sylvia asked apathetically.

That took the wind out of his sails really fast. When she didn't seem to listen anymore, Alex left the office, bereft with Ed looking after him; the door was opened, and Ed stepped inside with her invitation.

"What was that all about?" He asked with a fleeting interest.

"Just the usual." Sylvia said dismissively. "Alex is still trying to find atonement for his past debauchery and flaky ambition."

"When he left you in pursuit of something that didn't exist, you mean?"

She smiled: "I see you've been listening, unlike some people."

Ed watched her sit back at her desk as she perused over the past finances. When he didn't speak initially, Sylvia looked up at him curiously, insisting with the movement of her hand that he take a seat in front of her that Alex had originally occupied. When he did, she met his eyes with a small smile.

"You look handsome." She noted.

Her eyes softened, as did her tone.

Ed wasn't proud enough not to be flattered by her compliment. Hearing anything short of praise come out of her mouth was like being covered in a soft blanket, but this time around, the soft blanket had a rougher lining to it.

"What did you want to talk about?" Sylvia asked gently.

Quite the different persona than when she'd been talking to Alex.

"I wanted to talk to you about Oswald."

"Oswald?"

"Yes. If you have the time," Ed said carefully.

"Of course, I do." She said sweetly. "For you, I can make time."

"That's very generous of you."

"Don't worry about it."

She sauntered from the desk to the end table where she kept the alcohol. She poured two finger-lengths worth of tequila in a glass, offering him one as well. Ed took the offer; and she came back to the desk with two glasses, sitting one in front of him.

"What do you want to talk about, Riddles?" Sylvia asked conversationally.

"You and Oswald love each other."

"That's the dullest observation known to man."

Ed smirked, saying, "I'm just clarifying something."

"And what are you clarifying, exactly?"

"Do you love me in the same way?"

"You know I only see you as a friend, and I love you as a friend."

"That's all?"

"I'm sorry. Did I send the wrong the signal? I just finished talking about mixed signals with—"

"No, no, you didn't. And for what it's worth, I prefer what we have anyway."

"That's good to hear."

She seemed to relax a little more for that reason.

"Just out of curiosity, are you always this amorous with your friends?" Ed asked suspiciously.

"Not at all." Sylvia returned; the mischievous smile tugged on the corner of her mouth. "I find that I don't have many with whom I can be amorous but even if that was the case, I'd say that's a hard 'no'."

"Does Oswald like me in the same way you do?"

Sylvia licked her lips thoughtfully, her tongue lingered on the corner but the smile seemed to falter. The most subtle reactions. She sighed deeply, sitting forward after she drank the glass down to its bare bones.

"Why are you asking me, and not him?"

"I did imply it when I spoke to him."

"Did you, now?"

"Yes, I did."

"And how did that go?" Sylvia asked.

Ed frowned.

This was a game, whether either of them knew it or not. What the other knew, the other didn't, and it was their intelligent minds trying to hide but seek all the while proving to be the better opponent.

"He seemed," Ed said slowly, "under the impression that I may have had more feelings for him than what I might've led him to believe."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes, it is. But I am wondering whether or not you had any part to play in that misconception."

"And what part would I have been playing?"

Ed crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair: "The matchmaker."

Sylvia snickered, getting to her feet as she poured herself another glass: "The only part I played was providing the hope and courage for Oswald to open his mind and heart to the possibilities."

"So, you know."

"I do." She nodded, turning to look at him.

"You know he loves me." Ed said bluntly. "You know he wants to be with me in the same way he is with you."

"I do."

"You know him better than anyone."

"I'd say that's a pretty good observation."

"And an accurate one?" Ed questioned knowingly.

He stood, approaching her so he was only a couple of feet in front of her. Sylvia tipped the glass and sipped from it for a moment before she placed it on the end table behind her.

"You know," She said softly. "When Jim talks to me, he always has this interrogative personality that comes into play. He's always asking me questions, and when they get a little stern in tone, I have to wonder whether he's talking to me as a brother or talking to me like a cop. Sometimes, those lines get really close to getting crossed."

She edged away from him, sitting back at her desk. Her fingers interlaced on the table.

"And you're wondering," Ed said coolly as he stood and leaned over her desk, "if I am doing the same?"

"You catch on quick, Riddles. So now…How about you tell me what you're really wanting to ask me. We've clearly shown that we're smart, but that was already a known fact. And continuing to play this game would only add insult to injury to the both of us."

Ed had to hand it to her. She knew when the game was over, but also knew when she was being forced to play one. There was something admirable about that, but also so irritating.

"How long have you known Oswald was in love with me?" Ed asked lowly.

"Since you saved him from Butch's stock revival of the Red Hood Gang."

"That's how long?"

"Yeah. That's how long he's known, anyway. Next question?"

"Is there anything he wouldn't do for love?" Ed asked quietly, smiling at her no-nonsense tone.

"You're his best friend. Shouldn't you be able to answer that?"

He straightened, knowing he wouldn't get anything out of her. Especially if the answer incriminated herself or, moreover, Oswald Cobblepot. Just by talking to her, Ed was unfortunately certain that there wasn't anything she wouldn't do in order to make Oswald happy, to protect him, and to show that she was on his side for the long haul. The ride-or-die mentality was strong in this one.

He smiled; she smiled back.

He straightened his suit, drank what was in his glass, and placed it on the end table beside hers.

"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?" Sylvia asked trivially.

"Nothing important."

"How'd the negotiation for the Waterfront go? Did the pictures help?"

"They did."

"So, the leader folded?"

"The pictures you provided were beneficial to the case."

"Blackmail can be fun," Sylvia said with a smirk. "Especially when it involves anything dirty. Did you happen to glance at those pictures?"

"They were quite provocative."

"Honestly, I don't think a photographer could've done a better job. That's sharp quality, right there."

"I couldn't agree more."

Ed smiled in spite of himself when she stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her hand was always warm; he felt that type of casual comfort through his suit. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing how Alex was drinking his heart under the table while Marcus, the young Latino new-hire, offered him peanuts to balance things out.

"Don't worry about him," Sylvia said carelessly, opening the office door. "He can be relentlessly annoying, but he's actually pretty helpful, and even a good friend when that's all he wants to be."

"Should I talk to him?" Ed offered. "I'd like to think I've become pretty fluent in unrequited love."

He smiled at her and that eased her initial disarmed reaction.

"If you think that'll help." Sylvia said, shrugging her shoulder. "Honestly, I feel like he's a lost cause where all of that is concerned."

"If it makes it easier for you, I think that'll help."

She smiled congenially at him. "Are you going to be home later tonight? I was thinking of renting that new horror movie that just came out."

"Sorry," Ed said lightly. "I think I might spend the night elsewhere. Things between Oswald and me are a bit…"

"Awkward?"

"Yes. Do you think you could…?"

"Soften the blow?"

"The fact that you're able to read my mind is—"

"—A little weird?"

"I was going to say 'enlightening'."

"Well, two for three."

Ed leaned into her, kissing her cheek one last time before he left her office. She smiled after him before she closed the door so she could get more work down.

As Ed came down the stairs, he noticed Alex finishing his fifth beer. Ed waved over Marcus and offered to buy Alex his next one, provided that the bartender wasn't inclined to cut him off anytime soon.

"He's a sad drunk, not an angry drunk," Marcus said smoothly; his Spanish accent came out mostly with his 'r's.

Ed nudged Alex in the shoulder, sitting at a pew.

"How's it going, champ?" He asked.

As he expected, Alex grumbled something under his breath.

"You know…" Ed said smoothly. "You're not going to get anywhere by hassling her."

"I'm not hassling her."

"Yes, you are, and you know you are."

"What do you know."

"I know how to find my way from being just her friend to being something more." Ed said smartly. He thanked Marcus when the young man placed a beer in front of Alex, who leered at his suddenly new companion with the rigidity of a steel pole.

"What do I do?" Alex complained, placing his head on the bar counter. "I've already said what I can say. She doesn't want to hear it."

"That's because everything you say comes out like you're trying to apologize to your mother so you can get your video game back," Ed said pointedly. "I should know. We've all done it. Saying everything and anything you think she wants to hear is not going to earn you her respect, or her love."

Alex lifted his head, looking at him.

"She loves Penguin."

"Yes, she does." Ed said, nodding. "Because Penguin shows her respect and love. Frankly, you have the bad draw since your first time with her didn't end well, due mainly to your part."

"What's your point? Are you trying to help me or make me feel bad, man?"

"Honestly, that last part was due to come."

"Fine. I was wrong. I already told her I was wrong."

"You told her what she wanted to hear."

"Yeah!"

"That's not what she needs to hear."

"It's the same thing."

"What she wants to hear and what she needs to hear are not the same thing."

Alex blinked, seemingly realizing that the man in front of him had some idea what he was talking about. He straightened in his seat, and turned his entire body towards him.

"Tell me what to say, then."

"It's not what you say that matters. It's how you say it." Ed corrected.

"What do you mean?"

"Sylvia and Oswald were right; you are a little dense, aren't you."

Alex frowned at his insult but said nothing in light of the fact that the man would get to his point really fast. And Ed did.

"Sylvia loves Oswald. And she will do anything for him. What you need to do, Rooster," He said cleverly, "is to say what Oswald says in the same way he says it. Your words and tone will mirror what she sees in him and, therefore, will make her want you in the same way she loves him."

Alex stared at him: "What the fuck does that even mean? You know what, I guess I'll learn that eventually. Tell me what to say…Tell me, tell me…" He gesticulated impatiently.

Ed held Alex's shoulder.

"When you feel the time is right, say these words exactly as I tell them to you. In exactly the same tone."

He leaned forward and whispered them in Alex's ear.

Alex's eyes widened.

"And that'll work?" He asked eagerly.

"Oh," Ed chuckled. "It'll work. Trust me."