Chapter 5

I follow Oswald into his room, where he sits at his windowsill, looking out at the beautiful view of the Gotham skyline.

"You have a lovely view," I comment, looking out the window with him.

"Yeah...Gotham is loveliest at night, isn't she?" he tilts his head to the side, "Although, that big skyscraper is covering my view of the Gotham Bay," he points, aiming his finger at the Wayne Enterprises building just off in the distance, "thankfully, you can still see the bay from the living room."

I blow a raspberry, rolling my eyes and smiling, "Oh, who cares about the bay? Have you ever been to the bay? Dirtiest thing ever."

He nods as he swallows, his own smile fading, "Yes...many times actually."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't exactly go by choice," he explains, "there was this group of boys from school who'd bring me out there and...dump me in."

"And you didn't fight back?" I ask.

He sighs, "...I...I was short, still am. Plus, I'm sure you've noticed my nose and teeth. I've always had those...Penguin, that's what they'd call me. To them, I was a little Penguin, who couldn't defend himself...I, I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this."

I'd noticed his slightly elongated nose, but I'd never noticed his teeth before. While most people in Gotham don't have dental hygiene high on their priority list, as he starts smiling at me again, I notice his teeth are not only yellowed out and protruding, but are also slightly sharpened, as if all of his teeth are canines.

"It's fine," I tell him, "if it helps, I'll never call you Penguin-" I pause, "except for that one time."

He chuckles, "It's fine, really."

I laugh as well, "What, me calling you Penguin?"

"NO!" he shouts angrily.

I step back, shocked at his sudden mood swing. He's changed completely, his posture more upright, his head bent down slightly to emphasize his fierce, shady eyes. Maybe I'd gotten more than what I'd bargained for with this guy. Should I try to negotiate around him? Or is he more trouble than what he's worth? And did Mrs. Cobblepot hear that as well?

"Okay, okay! It's agreed, Oswald, I won't ever call you that again." I promise him, trying to defuse the situation.

He backs off, "...you're scared."

I give a nervous grin, "Well, you certainly gave me a fright for a second there. I never knew you could assert yourself like that."

He smirks maliciously, and gestures for me to approach him, "Come here, I want to show you something...you've nothing to fear."

My heart starts racing, what is he suggesting? I slowly begin my first steps toward, my body rigid with nervousness. He turns around and suddenly gets down on one knee, searching through a pile of his books and papers. He whips around and shows me a child's costume, like something you'd see at a Renaissance Fair.

"Do you like it? It was always my go-to Halloween costume as a child." he presents, his voice returning to childlike innocence and joy.

"It's...nice. Is it suppose to be any particular character?" I ask, a wave of relief coming over me.

"Why, yes, actually. It's Hamlet-"

I smile, "Prince of Denmark?"

His eyes light up, "You know the Bard! I...I can't believe it, I mean, I never thought someone from Gotham would concern themselves with the works of Shakespeare."

"Well, contrary to the Gotham stereotype, I'm actually a high school graduate." I smirk, crossing my arms proudly.

He grabs a stack of his many books, "I have all of his works, including his poems, unfinished plays, and personal quotes."

Setting them on his bed, he gestures for me to sit on it with him. I comply, our legs touching as the bed sinks under our weight, pulling us toward the center.

"Which play is your favorite?" I ask him, picking up his copy of Othello.

He flutters his eyelids, "Oh, my god, that's like choosing between my children...uhm, of course I love Richard III, Macbeth…" he smiles playfully, "...Romeo and Juliet."

"So, you're more for Shakespeare's tragedies?"

He nods as I hand him Hamlet. He opens up the book, "How about a bedtime story?"

I chuckle, "Alright."

We lie down on the bed together, and as our heads hit the pillow, we turn to face each other. Our noses touch, and his breath quickens as his cheeks become red.

"Uhm...so, Act I, Scene I?"

I awaken in Oswald's bed. We must've fallen asleep reading Hamlet. I turn over and see Oswald's tar black hair, mangled from sleep, and his mouth slightly ajar. I'm cuddled up next to him, our hands and feet intertwined. I want to get up, but doing so would probably wake him up-

"Oh my Lord!" Mrs. Cobblepot shrieks as she stands at the doorway.

Oswald jolts awake, accidentally knocking several books off of the bed in the process, "G-good morning Mother!"

"I can't believe you let this...this whore bring you so low, seduce you into this shameful act-"

"Mother, it's not what you think! All we did was talk," he lifts up Hamlet, which is turned to the middle of Act II, "she knows Shakespeare, we were reading Hamlet together-"

She walks in and flings open the curtains, "A likely story," in her hands I see my original dress. She throws it at me, "you leave today."

"Yes, ma'am." I mumble.

"And I don't ever want to see you near my son again," she warns, before slamming the door.

I glance at Oswald, who's hunched over, his meaty hands toying with the book, "I'm...so sorry about that."

"Don't be," I tell him sternly, "it's your mother's home, not mine. If she doesn't want me in her house, that's...completely understandable."

"This isn't goodbye, is it?"

I shrug, slinging the dress over my shoulder, "Only if you let her control you."

"Oswald, thank you for letting me wash this dress over at your place," I formally thank him as we walk along the street back to my motel room.

He chuckles, "Trust me it's nothing. It's the least I could do after you...stood up for me back at the bar."

"Oh, that? It was nothing, forget about it," I assure him, "your mother though, she certainly doesn't like me-"

"Actually, I'd say she likes you quite a bit. She's...she's just scared...is all," he states, stuttering a little in between.

"You really think so? Usually when I meet a guy's parents, things don't tend to go over well," I admit. "having your mother not approve is sort of...par for the course for me."

"Well...I don't usually bring people over, so I think she must have been...pleasantly surprised."

I nod, although I don't agree, and I look up at the dull gray building that houses the motel, which is only a block away now. I reach into my purse for…

"Hang on...where's my motel key?"

The early morning sky becomes jet red as an explosion rockets from the building. Oswald and I jump back and find cover in an alleyway as debris flies at us.

"Was that…?"
"Yeah," I mumble as the aftershock of the explosion settles.

We come out from behind and see the building is now completely ablaze. I watch as several people run out of the building, their skin and clothing scorched from the flames. How did this happen?

I glance over at Oswald. I could blow my cover if I tried to rescue the people in the building but...screw cover.

I charge for the building, and I hear Oswald's footsteps not too far behind, "What are you doing?!"

"There must be people still inside!" I explain, running to the side of the building, scaling a drainpipe, and I look behind me at Oswald for just a second before leaping into the flames.

Author's Note:

Lexie the Dreamer: Here it is!

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Haha, I wanted those lines to convey his need for control in general, but apparently everyone's interpreting it in another way ;). And Mrs. Cobblepot is a heavy sleeper but is always there to catch them "in the act"

Lola93091: Lol, it looks to be a little early for any kind of "play" but hopefully this chapter was good nevertheless

x: Here's the next chapter :)

Nikaru12: ¿Oswald es psicopático? Sí pero se convierte psicopático mucho durante la novela y Natalie/Trixie será muy cuidado. Lo siento por mis errores porque español es mi lengua segundo :3

Shadow Cat Mistress: Thanks, I did a lot of research in order to pinpoint the character, or at the very least my interpretation of him. As for angst and fluff, I disperse it when appropriate (like this chapter for example, the whole Shakespeare thing is both suppose to be a "heartfelt scene" and a reference to Oswald's original origin in the comics), but in the end, if any angst and fluff exist, it'll be in service to the story, not the other way around

Follow me: Tandothewriter

Thanks! :)