Gotham's Discontent

Chapter Nineteen: Curiosity Killed the Cat…

Deedee stepped foot into Galavan's mansion through the back door, fiercely flanked by the cover of five masked men with the ringleader Tabitha hauling ass. A mass murder in broad daylight. She caught the glimpse of the smoke stack, the remains of the smoldering circus left behind. Tabitha led Deedee through the hallway and into the living room as the masked men separated through the mansion, a routine they've always performed in order to make sure that the residence wasn't occupied by sleuths. Tabitha's strong grip around Deedee's hand seemed to demand that she stay close by; perhaps she had been tightly wound than Deedee had anticipated. They did attack a drove of people while the sun was out, a risk that could have put Deedee in the GCPD's crosshairs.

But striking in broad daylight had been too tempting to pass up. What better way to make a name for herself than to show her face live during what should have been an innocuous report of how much fun the Gothamites were having at the Broadwalk Circus under the big tent?

Tabitha pulled down her half-mask, glancing immediately to her right-hand side where Theo Galavan sat down in the couch, watching the television before him. Deedee caught the scent of freshly made coffee. She thought it was funny. A senator sat down so casually in front of a murder spree caught on camera, having a cup of joe as if he were watching favorite thriller show.

She smiled.

"So?" Deedee asked, gesticulating toward the bulky back of the television eagerly. "What'd you think?"

"What did I think?" said Galavan. He glanced at his sister momentarily, "Underneath all that fury, you're actually funny."

Tabitha patted Deedee's shoulder, as a silent agreeable gesture that she shared with her brother. Deedee, still wearing her blood-stained tank top, accompanied by the splatter across her cheek, shoved her hand across her face. Her feet pit-pattered against the cold, linoleum floor as she rounded the back of the couch to watch the re-run of her performance on screen.

"The forecast is calling for clear skies and loud cries with a chance of rain and brains scattered across the freshly mowed lawn of Broadwalk Circus. Don't bother calling the cops because I ain't staying long. Kind of busy, but I just wanted to give a shout-out to my family in Arkham…"

Deedee narrowed her eyes, "Is that really what my hair looks like?"

"I think it adds character," said Galavan observantly, sipping his coffee. "Would you like a cup? Just made it."

Deedee shook her head, and then when she realized that he was still watching the program, Deedee answered, "No, I'm fine."

Galavan nodded, took one more drink from his cup, and then he placed it on the table.

"I will have to go to a thing at the GCPD; apparently, it seems that our Commissioner Loeb has decided to retire. I've been invited to speak in the mayor's place as he won't be able to attend the ceremony."

Deedee smirked, "Ah, because the mayor is missing."

"Yes," said Galavan good-naturedly, glancing up at her, "Because the mayor is missing. So, I won't be home until late. However, I have a guest coming to the house; Tabitha will bring him here. His name is Zaardon…with two A's. And it would be lovely if you are not present when he shows."

"Zaardon…?" Deedee said.

"Yes, he prefers to go by that name; though, it's all the same because I don't know his real name."

"And what are you going to do with a 'Zaardon'?" asked Deedee curiously, watching Galavan as he rose to his feet and straightened his tie.

"He's going to go to Arkham, Deedee," said Galavan. "A useful tool."

She had the impression that to ask any more questions would only raise more than be answered, so Deedee pinched her lips in an otherwise satisfied expression. She shrugged her shoulders, "And what should I do while I'm sequestered in my room, Theo?"

"You should take a well-deserved nap, my dear," he suggested. "When you wake, it will be one day closer to seeing Jerome again. How does that sound?"

"Better than that meeting you gotta go to," said Deedee with a wide grin. "I guess the Commissioner ran into some trouble, huh? Well," she continued when Galavan raised an eyebrow, "I'm under the impression that the GCPD is crooked as hell. Loeb has been in control while the families were still fighting—Falcone and Maroni. One would think that his involvement is done, what with Penguin ruling the Underworld. Everyone's got a dirty little secret, Theo. Loeb probably has a full closet of skeletons, doesn't he?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Deedee," said Galavan playfully, wagging a finger at her with a smirk on his face. "You talk enough, and I might start to think that you can have the gumption to deal with the Underworld."

Deedee shrugged, "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Loeb's dirty, and you don't have to say yes or no to that." She gave a small chuckle, "Oh, look at me. That rhymed."

She grabbed the back of the couch and flung herself over, romp hitting the cushion comfortably and her feet rested on the table. Galavan lightly tapped her bare feet off the edge; she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Feet off the furniture and all that?"

"If you don't mind," he said.

"Nope." Deedee shrugged her shoulders. "Fit as a fiddle."

"Behave while I'm gone," said Galavan.

"Cross my heart, hope to die." Deedee made the respective gesture.

Galavan nodded and then strode out of the room, headed for the GCPD.

As she was—albeit politely—ordered, Deedee remained in her room for the rest of the day. She was amused by the luxury provided, for even for a guest room, Galavan had spared no expense. She wondered how many rooms there were to begin with, especially while she was under the impression that he intended to bring more than just Jerome into the house. A house. His mansion could have an abundant number of rooms; but Deedee had only seen this one, the living room, and the dining room.

There wasn't much like this sort of posh in Haley's Circus. Four sturdy walls instead of tin; a four-poster queen-sized bed instead of a single mattress (though, Deedee was quite fond of the twin bed that she and Jerome had shared for years). There was a dresser full of clothes that Tabitha had acquired for her, but Deedee didn't wear any of them except for the tank top and red shorts. A bathrobe made of cotton hung on the back of the adjoined bathroom door. Stained wood, soft carpet, décor for which she couldn't put a name to it—

Rich people taste.

Deedee observed a glass-stained lamp, which it didn't make sense why something that wouldn't see the sun was glass-stained.

The bed itself should have been placed in a magazine for a romantic getaway—what, with the crisp red sheets and a black comforter. Soft to the touch. Who needs that many pillows? Deedee had shoved four of them to the floor her first night in; and she left the bed a mess. Who makes their bed every day?

Deedee jumped into the shower, cleaning off the blood, but missing the smell of fire.

Galavan recommended a nap.

She would have taken one if she weren't riding the high of a lifetime from her day of excursion at the Broadwalk Circus. Then…temptation. She noticed that just outside of her window…Well, it couldn't be more than three stories down, and the closest fire escape was within a foot. She could jump to it…

I wouldn't visit Daddy, nor step foot in Arkham…

Deedee wanted to leave. The room was nice, but it was still just four walls to make up a small room.

Deedee stared at herself in the mirror, a look of annoyance on her face.

Oh my god, she sighed to herself. I'm claustrophobic.

"Well, write that one down for the books…" she muttered to herself.

I don't want to be locked up in a cage…

Deedee took a step toward the window, her hand outstretched—

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, pigeon," said Tabitha behind her.

Deedee turned, "I was only thinking about it." Inside, her stomach tossed uncomfortably. She had been startled by Tabitha's sudden apparition; that woman could be quiet if she wanted to. Cat-like footsteps with a grin to match.

Deedee pulled her hand away from the window. "I thought you were going to get that guy 'Zaardon', or whatever he's called."

"I am, but I thought I'd check in on you," said Tabitha. "You've given yourself the reputation of—" she tapped her fingers on her chin thoughtfully "—what did my brother call it…? Mischief, I think."

"Mischief?" Deedee drawled. "Well, maybe it's a good thing he didn't call it 'disobedience'."

"He was being coy," said Tabitha. "You broke the rules and went to Mr. Cicero's apartment."

"Is it really that big of a deal, though?" Deedee remarked. "I didn't even touch the man…"

Tabitha lowered her chin knowingly.

Deedee sighed, "Okay, fine. I roughed him up a little. I wanted to get a rise out of him. It didn't take, so I left. But I didn't hurt him."

Tabitha took a step toward Deedee, and she watched the tigress carefully. There was something about Tabitha, alluring and neck-tingling, that Deedee couldn't place yet. Something in her made her wary of Tabitha's intentions; she was a bit scary, as far as dangerous females in Gotham extended. There were some women you just couldn't fuck with, Deedee thought. Tabitha…She's one of them.

"You've got a bit of a dark side, don't you?" Deedee asked, attempting casualty as she took an obedient sit on the edge of the bed.

"My brother's aristocratic," said Tabitha admittedly. "He's got a politician's brain; he can hide it better than anyone I know, his dark side. I'm more honest about mine. Someone's got to put people in their place; and that's my job. So, when Theo"—Tabitha stood directly in front of Deedee, outstretching her hand behind her to reveal to her a long, corded bullwhip—"told me that you're up to mischief, I thought I'd check in on you, to see if you're up to mischief."

Deedee glanced at the whip as it unraveled in Tabitha's hand. "You're going to put me in my place, Tabby?"

"I'm Theo's enforcer," said Tabitha with a small smile. "I interfere if someone tries to deter his plans. And you interfered, Deedee."

Much to Deedee's surprise, Tabitha wielded the whip—crack—and wrapped it around Deedee's throat; Deedee uttered a breathless chuckle, her fingers wrapped around the noose as Tabitha lowered her face close to hers. Tabitha gazed down at the eldest Valeska, and noted the dilation in her pupils—Most people's eyes shrunk in the ploy of Tabitha's whip. This one didn't.

Deedee was surprised about it herself. This was new.

"I…" Deedee breathed with difficulty. "I…knew…"

"Knew what, pigeon?"

"I…knew…" Deedee uttered a small snicker through the tight air in her throat. "…He was mad."

Tabitha released Deedee, unraveling the whip, and pushed Deedee flat on her back onto the mattress. Tabitha didn't move, staring down at her with a look of annoyance.

"I really should have known that you'd have been into this sort of thing," she said, holding the whip. "Well, it's no good to use it on you if you like it."

"Because it takes the satisfaction out of it for you or…?" Deedee said playfully, rubbing her throat. "It would probably feel different if it were someone else wielding it, honestly." She indicated a suddenly tired hand at Tabitha's tight, black leather outfit. "I mean, the leather, the whip, with the hair…You know, I'm surprised no one's brought it to your attention—"

"Shut up," said Tabitha. She strode toward the window, locked it, and turned on her heel. "Don't go out the window. Don't leave your room. No mischief." Then she added, "Please? I don't want to have to do anything to you. I actually like your company."

"I mean," said Deedee, propping herself on her elbows, "if you wanted to pretend to enforce your brother's rules on me, we could just say that I had a bad time and wouldn't have to do it again."

Tabitha uttered a sardonic laugh, shook her head, and headed for the door. Though, a note of amusement on her voice as she opened the door to leave, "Behave, pigeon. I'll be home later."