When was the last time you were truly afraid?

That's a tough question. A couple of nights ago, I was on my way back from a bar and got followed by a guy. He had tried to buy me a drink earlier that night and I had turned him down politely. He didn't seem creepy then, but once I saw that he followed me, I felt really panicky. Fortunately, I could somehow slip into a cab, but the thought that he could have stalked me home still makes me shiver. It scares me how some people just can't accept a 'no' for an answer. (Marjam, 23)

Sometimes, Sophie wondered if Gotham's chemists were exclusively mad scientists.

After the Tetch virus, the papers were now talking about a gas which included a fear toxin. Sophie had read a mildly amusing article about how Oswald Cobblepot had been targeted with this gas and was driven into the arms of James Gordon.

James Gordon himself seemed to be a very interesting character, at least in her humble opinion. He seemed to be the only police officer with some kind of work ethics- or at least the only one brave enough to openly oppose Cobblepot's system. She was glad that Victor hadn't killed him all those months ago and hoped that he wouldn't get a similar order anytime soon. It seemed to her that Gotham needed people like Gordon to keep some kind of balance intact.

But what she found more interesting at the moment was the infamous fear toxin.

When she had tried to discuss the article about his employer with the bald assassin a couple of days later, Victor had told her that he had been there and expressed his disappointment for not having killed three men.

While he, of course, had come out of the situation unharmed, Sophie's mind had quickly gone from a brief episode of worry to a rather extensive one of curiosity.

What on earth could Victor Zsasz be scared of?

She looked up from the paper and shot a quick look at the assassin who was sitting on her couch and eating a chocolate bar which she hadn't even known her kitchen possessed.

A split second later, his eyes were on her and he looked at her with a crooked eyebrow as if to ask her what she wanted. Of course, looking at Victor Zsasz wasn't something that could go by unnoticed.

When she ignored his questioning look and continued staring at him, he turned his head back to face the TV.

Spiders? Nope.

Snakes? Nah.

Scorpions? Meh.

Darkness? Please.

Death? Fat chance.

Pain? Her mind conjured up the image of the cuts on his shirtless body. No.

Losing someone he loves?

And once again Sophie felt glad that Victor Zsasz did not care for politeness and wasn't fazed by people staring at him. If he had sent her an irritated glare to make her stop, she was sure he would have noticed her sadness.

Sophie was unable to ban the emotion from her face as she once again contemplated if Victor Zsasz had ever loved someone, if he ever could, and, lastly, if he ever would.

"I might have to kill Sofia Falcone."

Sophie looked up from her document and stared at the man who was sitting on the usual spot of her sofa, which he had once decorated with his blood a lifetime ago.

"What?" Usually, she would have been more eloquent. And by now, she had listened to a fair share of his work stories which would have given most people nightmares, and him stating that he either had or was going to kill someone wasn't anything that could shock her anymore.

Instead, she had been busy writing her novel while he had been busy eating the remains of her lunch. Lately, writing had become easier, the words, sentences and chapters seemed to be pouring out of her effortlessly. It might have been just her imagination but working on her book was so much easier when the bald assassin was around. Whenever she had lost a thought, she only needed to look at him to get at least a dozen new ones.

While she could never forget about his presence in her living room, she had been so absorbed in her chapter that hearing him speak actually made her jump.

She was well aware of the small grin the left corner of his mouth produced for a split second before his facial impression went back to its usual unreadable one.

"Sofia…Falcone?"

Never before had he mentioned killing women. Usually, the criminals who opposed Cobblepot were male. Plus, he had never really told her any names before. Interesting.

"Yes."

"Why?"

One thing she really appreciated about Victor Zsasz was that he never seemed to think that she was slow. Or if he did, he simply did not care.

"Orders."

"Oh really, Victor?"

"The boss thinks that she might want to take over Gotham."

"But who is she, exactly?"

"The daughter of the man who used to run Gotham before Penguin."

"Gotham isn't exactly the place for a hereditary monarchy. Seems a bit old-fashioned, don't you think?"

As a response, he just shrugged. But Sophie wasn't willing to let it go so easily. He wouldn't just drop a name if it wasn't important.

"Do you think she wants to take his place then?"

"She says she doesn't. Claims that she wants to become an ally."

This really was interesting. She somehow doubted that Oswald Cobblepot was someone who enjoyed forming alliances.

"What can she offer him?"

"Her family's name."

"Sounds like they're gonna get married." Sophie scoffed. A marriage to strengthen political influence. That would have been medieval.

"They are going on dates." He said thoughtfully while a shadow of his usual smirk flickered across his face.

"So, unless she isn't madly in love with him, what does she get out of this?"

"I don't know. I might tell you once he wants me to find out."

She blinked at him several times. Up until this point it had always been her prying information out of him. This was the first time that he had more or less promised that he would tell her something by himself.

Instead of answering, she looked at him with a warm smile to which he crooked his eyebrows, as if he was wondering what was wrong with her.

Maybe she was starting to get to him. Her smile transformed into a smug grin and for once she witnessed how it looked when Victor Zsasz rolled his eyes.

Some more weeks would pass before Sophie found out that Sofia Falcone was one of Gotham's one percent – and a person who liked to invest her wealth into a good cause.

Instead of just making appearances at charity events to show off fancy dresses and to mingle with the high society, Miss Falcone had made the press fall for her head over heels by opening an orphanage.

In the interview with the Gotham Gazette, she presented herself humble and kind-hearted and talked about how she wanted to use her privilege for making the world a better place.

While Sophie would usually have thought that this was too good to be true, the words that this woman used still sounded sincere to her after she had read the article three times. Sofia seemed like a woman that was tired of being linked to her father's sins and wanted to do good where he had done bad.

She liked the idea of an ambitious woman with good intentions and the influence to realise them. Blaming a child for their parents' wrongs wasn't something she considered fair. But if someone in this woman's position wanted to slip into the role of a redeemer, Sophie would be the last person who'd want to stop that. If Sofia teamed up with Oswald Cobblepot, there might be a chance of making this new system tolerable.

And even if the former mayor's paranoia was accurate, and Miss Falcone took his place, it would hardly result in something Sophie would consider a worst-case scenario. In a city like this, a man with Victor's skills would always find a new job.

"You can't kill Sofia Falcone."

She knew that the likeliness of this conversation to be successful wasn't too high, but Sophie thought she at least had to try.

"Oh yeah?"

The hitman, still the embodiment of relaxedness, gave her look that showed a mixture or amusement and bewilderment, before he resumed watching TV. At last, she did mind his lack of etiquette.

"Victor."

"Uh-huh?"

"Can you look at me, please?"

With a swift motion, he switched off the TV, turned towards her and gave her his whole attention. With his head tilted slightly forward and his eyes fixated on her face, Sophie couldn't help but notice the beat her heart skipped.

"Did you know that Sofia Falcone has opened an orphanage?"

"Yes, I've seen it."

What?

"You've been there?"

"Yeah. The boss took me along and decided he doesn't want her dead." While Sophie's heart got a little lighter at hearing this, he, of course, seemed genuinely disappointed.

"At least not yet", he added hopefully, "she's one mistake away from being offed."

"Victor. I think Sofia Falcone might actually make a difference in this city. Things could get better in Gotham if someone more humanitarian than Cobblepot had a say in them. I'm not saying that you should let her win if there is any kind of power struggle going on. I'm just saying that she doesn't deserve to die. She could inspire more of the rich people to contribute to a better society."

His facial expression didn't change as he listened patiently to her little speech. Once she was finished, the mild interest that had shown in his eyes before was replaced with boredom.

"I don't care about stuff like that" he shrugged before turning the TV back on again.

Sophie blinked several times before the anger started to make her blood boil.

"Don't you see how many people are suffering in this city? Don't you understand that a person as influential as her can have a huge impact on the overall situation?"

He switched the TV off again.

"No, I totally get that."

"And do you think that one of the few people in Gotham who actually have a good heart and good intentions really deserves to die?"

"I don't care about these things."

"Victor", she felt her voice getting louder, "how can-"

"Sophie." His calm voice cut her off immediately. "I understand your point. I'm doing my job and my job is not to care."

The fire in her veins was replaced by ice and the way his eyes bore into hers sent a shiver down her spine. Before those eyes would devour her, she fixed her gaze on the floor.

"That's not good enough, Victor."

Everyone somewhat cared, there was not a single person who never felt a twinge of guilt when they saw injustice or a spark of hope that things might change for the better. Everyone had a conscience, why couldn't he?

"There has to be something you care about." She said quietly, her voice less insistent, less convinced than she would have liked it to sound.

Silence answered her and spread throughout the room like a smoke so thick that you could choke on it. With the lump in her throat, it would have been impossible to break it.

"I don't" his emotionless voice replied after an eternity.

Sophie didn't dare to look up, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the evidence of her frustration sparkling in her eyes.

With her eyes fixed on her feet, she could feel him silently getting up and leaving. Only when she heard the door click shut behind him, Sophie allowed herself to sit on the warm spot on the sofa where he had been seated only seconds ago and started sobbing uncontrollably.

Some time ago, the rational part of herself would have concluded that never seeing Victor Zsasz again was the best thing she could hope for.

But now, Sophie felt like every part of herself was being torn apart. For the first time since puberty, Sophie had cried for hours and hours, until her head hurt, and she could produce no more tears. She was angry at herself, firstly for being feeling this pathetically devastated, and secondly for pushing Victor Zsasz away.

It had taken so many months to somehow gain a grain of his trust, to establish some kind of strange friendship where he came around and shared some of the things he did every day. Maybe it would have only been a matter of time before he would have started sharing some of the things he thought about every day as well.

And all of this had only happened because she carried this silly, childish idealism in her head and stubbornly insisted on passing it on to everyone else.

The anger remained for several days before it suddenly disappeared all at once and got substituted by sadness and a feeling that came close to homesickness. But although she now felt more alone on her apartment than she had ever been, she knew that this feeling wasn't directed towards her parents' house.

One week passed before Sophie could admit to herself that she missed Victor Zsasz. And not just a little, but a lot.

Ten days passed, and Sophie realised that she was really, royally screwed. Because after ten days of feeling both empty and full of longing, Sophie finally could no longer deny that she was, despite his poor social skills and inclination for murder, in love with Victor Zsasz.

And just like that, she no longer cared about Sofia Falcone's maybe imminent death – just like she had never really truly cared about any other of Victor Zsasz's victims.

What she cared about instead was finding a way to get back to the routine that the two of them had had before. Sophie wondered how she could get the murderer back into her apartment, back to stealing her food, back to rising her electricity bill, and, most importantly, back to talking to her.

It would be two weeks before she started staring at her phone.

Author's Note: Ba Dum Tss.

So, guess who has some spare time now? :)

I forgot to say thank you to the people who left a review the last time (sorry!), please know that it means a lot to me to know that you enjoy reading this and that every comment always makes my day. I even got a guest review in my native language which made me go all gooey-eyed.

Credit for the question goes, once again, straight to Tefnout. :)

I'll stop now, I don't think there are many people who actually enjoy reading author's notes.