The following weeks went by way faster than expected. Scar was moved into her own condo, but still had a room to stay in at Oswald's when needed. Victor spent a lot of time catching her up to speed on all of the figures in Gotham she needed to know, along with some basic intel-collection training. Her main assignment for the past couple of weeks was to stay close to Butch and keep tabs on his every move during the day. She was happy to finally have a night off when her phone lit up.
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?" Victor asked.
"What do you mean? I'm at home, of course, just started dinner."
"Did you forget what day it is?"
"I'm not one for crowds."
He scoffed, "I know that, obviously, but at least have your television on."
"Just text me the results. Goodbye, Victor."
She hung up and finished seasoning the chicken. After throwing it into the skillet, she went between slowly adding garlic, peppers, mushrooms, and capers into the mix the meat and stirring a small pot of roma tomatoes, red wine, oregano, and parsley. The condo slowly filled up with the scent of the delicious cacciatore as she finished putting the dish together.
Her phone buzzed. Low battery. She turned down the burners on the stove and walked around the corner. After plugging in her phone in her room, she went back into the kitchen, finishing the last touches of seasoning. She started to look for the bottle opener to get into another bottle of wine. Come on, I could've sworn I just put it back in one of these drawers…it's gotta be somewhere. Did I carry it into the bedroom with me? Now that I think about it, that's the last place I—
"Need—"
Scar screamed and turned around, dropping the bottle in her hand.
"—help?" Victor continued, laughing.
"Oh my god, Victor!" she yelled, clutching her chest, "For the last time, your key is for emergencies only, dammit! You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." She stormed over to the pantry, pulling out a couple of rags and a broom. "You're such a dick sometimes."
"Me?" he asked, innocently, "You're the one who hung up on me." He sat down on the couch and turned on the television. "Hope you made enough for both. I'm starving."
Scar glared over at him as he flipped through the channels. "I made enough for two, but that's because the second portion was supposed to be my lunch for tomorrow." He ignored her as she finished cleaning up. She served up two plates and walked into the living room.
"Move over. Do you have the election on?"
Victor moved to the side and grabbed one of the plates from her, "Yeah. I was going to watch it at my place but was on this side of town."
"Bullshit," she said, going back into the kitchen, "You just got mad that I hung up on you."
"Alright, you've got me," he smirked, cutting into the chicken, "You're a pain, but at least you can cook."
She sat down with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. "I was looking for my bottle opener when you came in."
"I've got it," he said, pulling out a knife and prying off the top. He filled both of the glasses before turning up the volume.
They bantered back and forth for a while before Oswald was finally announced as the winner of the election.
"Oh! Called it!" Victor yelled.
"Yeah, yeah…I'm pretty sure we all saw that coming. I told you Butch has been distributing bribes. That's why I didn't care to watch."
"Did you seriously miss it?"
"Miss what?"
Victor groaned, "So you did miss it. I have you assigned to monitor Butch, and you didn't even think to look into the guy he's been around."
"Who?"
"The one Penguin got released from Arkham, Edward Nygma. He's been taking the money back from the higher ups."
Scar scoffed, "How was I supposed to know? I'm assigned to Butch, not Nygma. You haven't even introduced me to the guy."
"Thought you wanted to stay in the background? I've told you to gain Butch's trust as a low-key task. If you wanted to get out of the rookie leagues, all you had to do was ask."
"I don't know…" she trailed off, picking up their plates and carrying them into the kitchen, "…I don't want to deal with the fallout from the GCPD, but I know sooner or later they'll catch wind of what's going on."
Victor finished off his drink and poured them both another one, "You could be really useful…but it may require dressing like you used to for the Sirens." He smirked as she walked back in.
"Wipe that grin off of your face," she glared, sitting back down.
He shrugged, "I've got a point. It'd require some combat training, but I wouldn't mind having some arm candy…wait, are you blushing?"
"What? No!" she denied, taking a sip of her drink, "I'm just—"
"Oh, you so are!" he laughed, "I was just fucking with you."
She felt a twinge of disappointment, but quickly suppressed it. "I knew that."
"Yeeeah, we need to work on your lying. You're not very good at—" His phone rang and he held a finger up before flipping it open, "Yeah? …Yeah, I saw…Well, I…" He glanced over at Scar, "…I'm sort of in the middle of something, but thanks for the invite."
She quickly downed her second drink and re-filled the glass, starting to feel tipsy.
Victor finished his call, "…Mhm…Yeah…Later."
"In the middle of something, huh?"
"Don't flatter yourself, it was the boss. That reminds me, as much as I hate it, he already planned for his afterparty to be at the Sirens Club."
She choked on her drink, "W-What?"
"Kind of my reaction, but it'll all work out. Nygma and I actually have created a plan based around that location. Butch's time is up." He saw her eyes widened and laughed, "Not like that, but…I don't want to bore you with the details. We still have a lot of planning to do. Regardless, I was going to give you the night off. Didn't think you'd want to show up to your old workplace."
"Yeah, that sounds like hell."
"Besides…wouldn't want you getting into it with Tabitha again. She's a fiery cat, isn't she?"
She felt her heart start to beat a little faster, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Aww, don't get jealous…all I'm saying is—"
"Actually, y'know what, I should go. I should be there for Oswald."
He took a sip of his drink, trying not to laugh.
"What, Victor?"
"It doesn't take much to make your blood boil. Look, if you're jealous, it's—"
"I am not jealous." She swirled around her drink before looking up, locking eyes with him.
They stared at each other in silence for a minute. Victor slowly licked his lips and moved closer to her.
"Victor…what are you doing?" Scar asked, feeling her heart pound.
"Relax," he said, slowly pushing aside some strands of hair from her face.
Even with her mouth closed, she could hear her own breath as her chest heaved with anxiety.
He leaned in and heard her sharply inhale. After freezing for a second, he stood up and laughed, walking into the kitchen.
She sat in shock before releasing her breath. What the hell was that?
"You're too easy to manipulate. Don't let me get inside your head like that. I wasn't going to hurt you," he said, rummaging through her cabinets.
I didn't think you were going to hurt me…I thought—
"Got anything stronger?" he asked.
She stood up, trying to keep her balance, "Yeah, hold on, the shot glasses are up top." She walked into the second bedroom and pulled out a case underneath the futon. When she walked back out, Victor was leaned up against the breakfast bar with two glasses in front of him.
"Oh, no, no," Scar laughed, "I don't usually drink hard liquor. It's for special occasions. I only broke it out because you asked."
He slid one of the glasses across to her, smirking, "Our boss just won the election. I'd call that a special occasion. Unless, of course, you think you can't handle it…"
"I hate you," she handed him the bottle, "Even when I know you're trying to manipulate me, I can't help but bite."
"Thatta girl," he winked, filling up the glasses, "Here's to a new era. We've both been socially promoted."
They clinked glasses and downed the dark liquor. She shook a little then coughed, "Damn, that shit's strong."
"You may be in situations, like Oswald's election party, where you're expected to drink. People get suspicious when you're the only one not drinking. I've built up a pretty good tolerance myself."
"What's your point?" she asked, slowly making her way to the refrigerator, before stopping closing her eyes, "Could you get me some water?"
He grabbed them both a water bottle and helped her back to the couch, "My point, Light Weight, is that you need to hold yourself together if you're going to be gathering information at social events for me."
"I'm not a lightweight," she slurred out, shoving his arm.
"Mm? Is that so?"
"Yessir."
"Yes sir, huh?" he purred out, "I think I like the sound of that."
She groaned and tucked her knees to her chest, resting her forehead on them, "Whatever."
"That's all you've got for me?"
"Yes, Victor…my vision isn't keeping up with my head…or my head isn't keeping up with my vision…or something."
"So articulate. Here." He unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and pressed it against her leg, making her jump, "Drink up, Light Weight. It'll help dilute the alcohol."
"I know. I've bartended for years," she downed half the bottle and set it down on the coffee table, "One of the reasons I'm not that into alcohol is from watching how messy people get when they're drunk."
He smirked, "You seem to be concentrating hard to form sentences."
"Three glasses of wine and a shot will do that," she said, looking over at him, "Why would I be drinking on assignments anyway?"
"Like I said, it'd mainly be at social gatherings. Gotta blend in if you're going to be my informant. We can't have people thinking you're as smart as you are."
"Gee, thanks…"
"What? People let their guard down if they aren't intimidated. You may need to dumb yourself down a bit at times. You've bartended a while, so it's kind of like that…figuring out what people want to hear, being able to talk about any topic, you know the drill."
"It's my night off, Victor. I don't want to talk work."
"Relax, we'll get to it another time…then what do you want to talk about?"
She laughed, rubbing her temples, "Nothing, really. I planned on having a nice dinner with myself, which you intruded on, then writing for a bit before turning in early. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep this week."
"You write?"
"I mean…ish. I document my days, thoughts, emotions…it helps me monitor myself. That, and I was going to give you a few of my weekly reports about Butch. I know we've discussed the content verbally, but a written refresher is always nice."
Victor got up and started to head down the hall, "Where are they, in your desk?"
Scar's eyes widened as she frantically got up, trying to rush down after him without stumbling too much, "St-Stay outta there, I—" She turned the corner and saw him standing over her desk. It was too late. She leaned against the doorframe and watched at Victor flipped through a notepad on her desk.
He turned around and held it up on one of the sketches, "Did you draw all of these?"
"Yeah…"
"Huh…I'm flattered."
She looked up and examined his face as he grinned at the drawing, "I…I thought…I don't know, I didn't want you to think it was weird…I draw a lot of the people I interact with and…I guess I interact with you the most, so…I don't know, it's a memory thing, really. You probably have thought I've been taking notes at meetings, but I mainly draw the people who are there."
Victor flipped through a few more before setting the pad down, "Why would that be weird? You know they call me a homicidal maniac, right?" He then picked up the files on Butch and started scanning them, "I don't think drawing people you see is much worse than that. Relaaax…you made me look good, anyway."
"Well, I strive for accuracy…" she muttered, before realizing what she'd said.
He looked up, "What?"
"Nothing!"
After eyeing her suspiciously, he turned his attention back to the files, "Can I take these with me?"
"Sure," she said, relieved, "I wanted to get them to you soon, anyway, I just hadn't seen you in three days…no, two days."
"Aww, miss me so much you're counting?"
"Keep dreaming," she rolled her eyes and walked back down the hall towards the kitchen.
He followed her out, files in tow, "So, I know you said you've been wanting to meet Nygma—oh, speaking of." He flipped his phone open, "Yeah… Oh, really? Alright, I'll be there soon."
Scar felt her heart sink a little as he hung up, "What did he want?"
"Apparently he's been appointed Chief of Staff. Looks like now's the perfect time for you to meet him."
"Now?"
"Not literally…but how about later this week? I know Penguin's press conference should be in a few days. There will be a group meeting after that. If you're ready to come out of the shadows and step into the big leagues, you should come. I recommend meeting with your little friend first…speaking of, you didn't tell me she was engaged to Mario fucking Calvi."
She jumped up and sat on the countertop, "I know her fiance's name is Mario, but why's that important. As far as I'm concerned, he's just some renowned surgeon at Gotham General."
"That's Don Falcone's son. She definitely won't be able to say anything about our little arrangement thanks to that connection."
"Oh god, I wonder why she didn't mention that part to me. Alright, I'll set a time to see her and catch up. Do you want me to tell her that I'm working for you?"
He shrugged, "I don't know…maybe say you were working for Penguin's campaign and were assigned to work under me. I'm sure the true origin of our little arrangement will be discovered soon enough since Barbara Kean can't keep her mouth shut, but why speed up the process?"
"Noted."
"Meet up with Dr. Thompkins, tell her what's up, then I'll pick you up for the meeting. It'll probably be Friday. Got it? I know you said you wanted to turn in early, so I'm going to head out. I've got some things to sort out with Nygma."
She jumped off of the counter and walked him to the door, "Let me know how it goes with him, okay?"
"Aww, are you worried about me?" he teased.
"Shut up."
He opened the door and winked, "Make me." When she froze up, he just laughed. "Later."
She leaned up against the wall as he swung the door shut. Make me. After shaking her thoughts off, she walked into the bedroom to retrieve her phone. She flipped it open and sent Lee a text:
"We haven't met up in a while…want to come over for dinner this week?"
After a minute, her phone buzzed:
"I'll bring the ingredients if you cook the food – LOL! Does tomorrow night at 6pm work? I have dinner with Mario on Wednesday."
She smiled and typed back:
"I bet I can get off work early…I'll make it happen! See you then!"
After taking a quick shower, she got ready for bed. She picked up a book and read a couple of chapters before her phone started to buzz again.
"Meetup went well. Nygma looks forward to meeting you on Friday, so I guess you should be there. Thanks for the food. Call me tomorrow for the next part of your assignment. I'm sure you will – we both know you already miss my voice. Later."
Scar couldn't help but smile as she reread the text a few times over. The message burned into her brain as she flipped the phone shut and turned out the light.
We both know you already miss my voice.
Later.
Author's Note: Hey, everyone. I'm sorry I took a while to update this story along with No Hypnosis Needed. Here's another chapter for Different Demeanors, Same Heartbeat to compensate. I timed this one with the election here in America as a reminder to go out and vote if you haven't already. I hope you all are well! I'm sending all of my love and best regards! Let me know how you all feel about the changes in the two main Gotham stories, thus far. I'll be posting some new stories soon to add to my collection. Any recommendations on fandoms you'd like to see me write? Feel free to review or send me a private message!