Chapter 16

Oswald and I run into the apartment building, the both of us laughing hysterically. He wraps up his umbrella as we ascend the stairs, water dripping from our clothes and shoes. I should be freezing from being soaked in rain water, but with his arm around me, I find comfort in the warmth from that alone.

"Oh, I wonder what Mother will say when I tell her-" there's a wild screaming coming from Oswald's apartment, and Oswald races to the door and pushes to open. However, the hinge on the door is stuck, and he can't open it all the way. I gently push him aside before backing up just a little and kicking the door open. His mother is on the floor, sobbing,

"Ozzy, my dear son, I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop them-"

"What's wrong Mother? What happened?" he asks, running to her side.

"Those evil men came again, they demanded more money, I, I didn't have any money and they took the tea set and the silverware and my wedding ring…" she suddenly notices Oswald's drenched clothes, "Oswald Chesterfield Kabelput, what happened to your clothes? Was it those bullies again?"

He shakes his head, "Oh no Mother, it's something good for once, I got a job."

"Oh, that's wonderful," she brushes some water off of his suit, "my little boy, all grown up," she turns around and sees me.

"You! You harlot, you've caused this! Those men wouldn't have come for more money if you hadn't given it to them!"

I frown, there's no use arguing with her. I cross my arms and start walking up the stairs to my apartment. Oswald holds out his hand in protest, "Trixie, wait…!"

I scurry up the stairs before I have to respond to him, my head bowed down in embarrassment. Yes, Mrs. Cobblepot's accusations are...hysterical at best, but it's probably best if I left the situation. I unlock the door to my room, and almost step on a small manila envelope on my way in. I bend down and pick it up, guess the building doesn't have any mailboxes. Upon closer examination, I smile, immediately recognizing the chicken scratch writing in a dark green ink. Good old Ed, always replying to letters right away.

"Ozzy, don't tell me you've fallen for that cheap floozy upstairs!" Mrs. Cobblepot's shaky voice comes through from below.

I roll my eyes, great, I can hear them.

"Mother, you don't understand! Don't you know what it's like to be in love-"

"Hasn't my love been enough?" she silences her son, "I've done all that these old bones can for you, dressed you, fed you...and this is how you repay me?"

I change into my nightwear of an oversized t-shirt and running shorts as I continue to listen in on their conversation.

"Mothe...Mom, there's something you need to understand. I don't love her." he confesses.

Well, this is...interesting.

Mrs. Cobblepot gasps, "Why, why of course son. But then, why do you keep her around?"

There's a devilish chuckle from Oswald. I squint my eyes together, I always liked his laugh.

"She's useful Mom, I used her to get a job at a nightclub. She's my key to the top."

I grit my teeth as I sit on the worn bed in my room. I glance to my bedside where my knives sit, the blue details swirling in the dull, yellow light. Instinctively, I grab one of them, twirling it in my hands, before forcefully sticking it into the wall, letting the blade dig into the old wood of the building.

"Oh, my dear, boy," she coos, "you're brilliant."

I feel like screaming, but I know that if I can hear their own idle conversation, then they could definitely hear me. I can't even cry, since they're bound to hear that as well.

Hang on, why I am so upset to begin with? I should be overjoyed, Oswald doesn't truly harbor feelings for me, it was all a ruse from the beginning. And now, knowing this, he's probably going to try to get rid of me. I'm of no use to him anymore, I've served my purpose. I smile, I need to dispose of him, before he disposes of me.

Their conversation wanders elsewhere, and eventually she and Oswald go to bed, Mrs. Cobblepot making sure to give her son an audible kiss goodnight before doing so. Meanwhile, I rip open Ed's letter, finally given a chance to read in peace,

Dear Natalie,

I thoroughly enjoyed our meeting yesterday, and how thoughtful of you to write back right away (one thing you can always rely on in Gotham City, the postal service). I'm enjoying my new occupation at the GCPD, and I feel I will be of much use to the officers here. Of course, no one has noticed my genius yet, which is to be expected. One must have both patience and persistence in order to establish oneself. On another note, I've become acquainted with one Kristen Kringle, well, not so much "acquainted" as I saw her for only a few harrowing seconds. But Natalie, as soon as I laid retinals on her, I knew she and I would make an excellent pair (in the romantic sense of course, not like you and I, which I'd categorize as more platonic). I found her employment records in no time at all, and I'm trying to find a way to introduce myself. You're the courtship expert here, could you please offer some seminal advice?

Cheers,

Ed

P.S. (I have a new riddle, wanted to run it by you before adding it to my repertoire)

I have much to say

Yet I cannot speak

I am a window to the past

Yet I am also in the present

I have the greatest meanings hidden

Yet I can also mean nothing

I create and build things

Yet I also have the power to destroy

I chuckle as I read the letter, ah, that Ed, he never fails to brighten my day. But I don't have time to answer his riddle right now, I need to find a way to eliminate Oswald. Of course I can't do it right away, no, that'd be too obvious. But then again, what if he tries to get rid of me first? I look up at my knife, still stuck in the wall. I pull it out, brushing off the chips of wood that came out with it. Well, if he strikes first, I'll be ready for him.

"So, he's essentially posing as you?" Amanda asks after I'd explained a slightly altered version of my situation to her, "And he has no idea he's doing this?"

It's the next day, and I'm standing out in a deserted Gotham street in one of my old dresses, a straight white one that goes down to my knees, with a decorative black belt at the hips.

I nod, although I realize this won't telegraph into the phone, "Yes, and I think he's now looking to snuff me out." I glance around. I'd chosen a different phone booth location, but you can never be too careful.

"Well, I'll have Raoul take care of him-"

"No!" I blurt out, but instantly regret, and also, Amanda's informant's first name is Raoul? "No, leave Morgan out of it. I'll take care of this on my own."

"Hmm...Natalie, you're not taking this personally, are you?"

"I never take anything personally." I mumble harshly.

Amanda pauses, "I don't find that true, at least, not anymore. You think that just because this job is off the books you can go and get yourself a boyfriend? The same rules that have always applied apply now. I don't want you getting killed out there."

"Fine," I grumble, "I'll take care of it, first chance I get."

"Good, for now, I'll keep Raoul in the dark. Might be for the best anyway, this pawn in play might just make for some good insurance. Waller out."

I hang up the phone and a cold air suddenly hangs behind me. I reach for one of my knives, he's right behind me, isn't he?

"Reporting to Ms. Waller?" the mid-toned voice asks with only a hint of malice.

I nod, unsheathing the dagger from the strap, "Mhm."

"What did you tell her?" he asks, footsteps of dress shoes clacking against the sidewalk as Oswald circles around me, dark shadows under his lower lids.

He faces me, blocking my path between me and the phone booth. He's unarmed thankfully, and he has that innocent, pleading expression plastered over his face, "Put the knife away, I'm not going to hurt you."

Does he know I overheard his conversation with Mrs. Cobblepot? Having lived in that building, he must be aware of the thin walls and floors separating us.

"Why should I?" I question, not letting go of my knife.

"I...I see I've upset you, with the claims I made to Mom, correct?" he asks, backing up, but then, a laugh escapes his lips, "I, I've upset you….haha…" he then seems to awaken from his anecdote, "well, the, the thing is, it's not true. I just needed to get her off of my back. I can't have her interfering with our plans, now can I?"

"Why do I have a hard time believing you?" I ask myself, fully revealing my knife, holding it in front of him.

Carefully, he approaches me, cupping his hands around mine, his expression blank and almost unreadable, "If you won't believe me, then believe this: that love is rich with both honey and venom," he leans in toward me, gripping the hand holding my knife, guiding me to lower it, "but, I think you'll see in time, there's more honey to be found in our relationship than the latter," allowing the knife to slip back up my dress and back into the sheath, Oswald patts the knife with his hand, before letting his fingers slide down my thigh, "and in the end, you'll find our relationship to be...mutually beneficial."

He wraps his arms around my waist, grinding his hips against mine. I contemplate forcing him off, but I'd rather stay close to him, however risky that may be as of now.

I push him away, only allowing for one hand to hold my own. I smile, for whatever reason, he still needs me,

"It's a lovely day. How about we go for a walk before work?"

He grins back, his expression not only showing anticipation, but also relief, "I'd love that."

Author's Note:

Guest: Thanks, although I'm not sure how much more "romantic action" I could add. Hopefully this chapter suits your needs.

Red: Oh, thank goodness, so characters are fine, it's grammar I really have to work on. Sounds about right, knowing my writing. I'm trying to compile a document right now of all the mistakes you've mentioned in your reviews so that I can keep track of them (for when I eventually/hopefully go back and fix these mistakes). Ah yes, my sentence structure, yeah, I tend to write run-ons, it's a bad habit of mine, especially when I'm writing action. In my mind, I interpret the action happening very quickly, so I try to squeeze it all into one sentence. Thanks for the insight, looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Maybe, but the question is: who's faking it and who isn't? And we get to see them for a little bit as neighbors in this chapter, more to come :)

Thanks! :)