Chapter 37
"I thought I heard something in those vents," the Trickster smiles triumphantly, "I just didn't expect it to be so...big."
He grabs me by my shirt and pulls me up, aiming his flamethrower directly at my face, "Who're you? Who do you work for?! I'm a very dangerous man and I'll stop at noth-"
He stops, his face frozen on my t-shirt, "Teddy bear...those are my favorite!" he smiles gleefully as he pulls me closer to him, "You're a woman after my own heart, huh?"
So that's why Harrison decided on the teddy bear t-shirt. I decide to take this opportunity and use it to my advantage.
"Yes...Mr. Trickster...I...I'm a big fan of yours," I lie, smiling.
He with his flamethrower in one hand he wraps his free arm around my waist. I look over and see that his flamethrower has a DIY quality to it, being comprised of mostly household objects.
"Oh, a fan?" his tone becomes grizzled and gruff, "I didn't know I had fans."
That's understandable, considering he's a crazy psychopath, but you'd be surprised at the kinds of psychopaths that have fans.
"Help me," the Trickster commands, tossing me a cloth bag, "start filling this up. Also, put this on."
He opens the palm of his hand to reveal a thin, light blue satin mask that just barely covers my eyes, "A disguise, so no one will know your identity. I'm sure somewhere else you're a fine, respectable young woman who wouldn't want to be caught with a dastardly criminal such as myself," he explains as he wraps the mask around my head, allowing me to tie a knot at the end.
He walks around the vault, pulling out the various black drawers full of cash and dumping their contents into his similar cloth bag. I walk around the rows of storage drawers, making sure to check the tiny labels on the drawer handles.
"The hundred dollar bills are over here. You're grabbing from the ones," I point out.
He looks down at the dollars in his sack, "Oh...I knew that."
He dumps the money onto the floor and strides over to me, slowly sauntering and winking.
I want to puke. This guy looks old enough to be my father, even with the clown hair. But I'm suppose to play the part of the fan, right? Old guy or not, I have to keep a straight face, if I can.
Wraps his arm under my shoulders and pulls me close, "Kid, I have a feeling this is the start of a beautiful relationship."
The alarms in the bank sound off. The Trickster grabs the nearest drawer, yanking it out and emptying the contents into his bag, "Shoot, one of those damned tellers must've gotten free!"
I nod, before I start to fill my own bag with stacks of hundred dollar bills. As I'm just finishing filling the bag, the Trickster looks over at me.
"Oh, wait!" he puts his bag down and pulls out a black marker. On my bag, he quickly draws a large dollar sign on the front, "perfect."
Two officers walk in through the half-melted vault door, "Freeze!"
The Trickster blasts his flamethrower at the officers until they're burned to a crisp. He cackles out loud, "Barbeque on a badge!"
I laugh too, although I didn't find it funny. We walk out of the vault, the Trickster apparently in no rush to leave. We make it to the main lobby to find several officers ready to open fire. I take cover behind the corner while the Trickster slides behind a nearby column.
"Time to prove your stuff, sweet cheeks!" he declares, sliding something to me.
The object arrives to me and I realize the item is a handgun, the CCPD label stamped on the side. I pick up the gun and load it. The gunfire on the other side slowly comes to a stop. Now's my chance. I step out of cover, hitting three officers before I have to step back into cover again.
"Hey, not bad! You ever shot before?!" he asks over the gunfire.
I smile, "I've shot a couple of times."
After I exchange fire with the officers a couple more times, their numbers begin dwindling. While I never miss a shot, I'm very careful not to get hit myself. Am I not taking care of them fast enough? Am I going back into cover too quickly?
"It's time for us to make our exit!" the Trickster announces.
He steps out of his hiding spot and starts up his flamethrower, spraying the flames in every direction, his laughter echoing through the building. By the time he's through, nothing in the bank lobby has been untouched by the fire, and several objects are still burning.
Firing down his flamethrower, the Trickster straps it to his back, "C'mon out, baby! It's time we make our exit."
I approach him, gun in hand. He swipes it from me and holds it to my head, "Sorry baby, but I need a hostage to get past the rest of the police force. No hard feelings?"
"Of course not baby," I reply sweetly, even though I'm terrified he'll pull the trigger anyway.
Grabbing my arm with one hand, and holding the gun to my head with the other, he grabs my bag of money and scrunches up my mask to make it look like a blindfold before leading me outside.
"Don't shoot! Or I'll kill her!" he declares dramatically, forcing the gun into my cheek.
The remaining officers lower their weapons as the Trickster leads me down the stairs.
"Good work Natalie. The Trickster will lead you to his hideout, where the stolen tech lies," Harrison's voice comes in through my ear.
So he intended for me to get kidnapped all along? Guess the bank robber isn't the only trickster I'm dealing with.
The Trickster takes me to a goofy looking van belonging to a toy company with a giant clown head on the top. Throwing me into the back with the money, he hops into the front and drives off.
Oswald returns to Trixie's apartment from his first day at work. Using the clothes and shoes he'd stolen off of that dishwasher, he used them to get a job at Bamonte's (after having Trixie clean them first). Bamonte's, as any Gothamite will tell you, is the main meeting place of gangster Salvatore Maroni. Maroni is also well-known as the main competitor of Carmine Falcone, the boss of Fish Mooney and the most powerful gangster in Gotham. And in the meantime, he's still working for Falcone as his snitch, par their agreement before his "death". So, once he rises in the ranks at Maroni's side, he'll have a seat at both tables, play both sides against each other. Who comes out on top...well, that'll be entirely up to him.
"I'm home dear!" he calls out, but then he stops in his place at the doorway.
He'd forgotten she's out of town. He sighs, closing the door behind him. The apartment seems so empty without her, even when she was out, it was exciting because he never quite knew when she was coming back. He collapses onto her couch, hoping the grease and smell from his work clothes doesn't get onto the furniture. Maybe he should grab one of his suits from downstairs, but he couldn't be bothered right now, and Mom would notice if one of them went missing.
He gets up and waddles over to open the fridge. There are several plates of fully prepared meals wrapped inside. If she's out of town, why did she make all this food…? He gasps as he realizes that the food is for him. He grabs one of the plates, tearing off the plastic covering. Fried calamari, one of his favorites, how did she know?
After heating them up on the frying pan a little, he sits down at the dining table, fork in hand. Quickly devouring the dish, he looks up from his seat and the small, white piano by the window catches his eye. She's lucky to be able to have her own place, Mom would never let him keep the piano in the main room.
Dumping the plate into the sink and briefly washing his hands, he makes his way over to the piano. Opening it up reveals the white and black keys, and Oswald gracefully sits down as if he's a concert pianist, even pretending to push back imaginary coattails.
He starts playing one of his usual pieces, dark and somber. While he tries to focus on playing, his mind quickly wanders to other topics. He first thinks of a man he'd met at work the other day, Frankie. Tall, gruff, clad in a long leather jacket, Oswald couldn't help but feel a small pang of infatuation for the man. But all Frankie responds with is an annoyed stare or a roll of the eyes, just like the rest of them.
That's how the world has always seen him, insignificant, inconsequential. Well he'll show them, he'll show them all. He will rise to the top and once there, he will crush anyone and everyone who dare challenge him, who dare mistreat him, who dare think they can walk all over him like a carpet.
This must be what makes Trixie so special, Oswald realizes. She welcomed him with care, concern, and warmth. Even now, when she has plenty of reasons to scorn him, there are times when she runs to him, in need of him, wanting him.
But there's another side to her. One that does not approve of their love. Perhaps it's her morals, or her apathy towards people, or her general nature, but some part of her that still pushes him away from her, even if she is simply avoiding the inevitable. He sees it in her expression, for she's constantly trying to convince herself that she holds no feelings for him.
The song he plays on the piano ends, and Oswald suddenly thinks of the perfect song for his current train of thought. He plays the simple intro, and sings in a somewhat flat tone.
"I know too well that I'm, just wasting precious time in thinking such a thing could be: you could have a care for me. I'm sure you hate to hear, that I adore you dear. But grant me just the same, I'm not entirely to blame."
He needs a way to get close to Maroni, which shouldn't be too hard. Maroni is brash, arrogant, and prideful, someone like that is easy to manipulate.
"For...you'd be, so easy to love. So easy to idolize, all others above. So sweet to waken with, so nice to sit down to eggs and bacon with. We'd be so grand at the game, so carefree together, that it does seem a shame...that you can't see, your future with me...cause you'd be oh, so easy to love."
Fish and Falcone will be harder to get to. He's certainly not relying on gaining Fish's trust, it's Falcone's trust that he needs the most right now. Perhaps a double-cross of Maroni a time or two will do the trick. Oswald slides his hands across the piano, adding his own flourishes, and picking up the tempo.
"You'd be so easy to love, so easy to idolize, all others above. So worth the yearning for, so swell to keep every home fire burning for. Oh, how, we'd bloom, how we'd thrive, in a cottage for two, or even three, four, or five! So try to see...your future with me...cause you'd be oh...so easy...to love…"
He smiles, and closes the piano. Clutching the stool with both hands, he daydreams of winning his bet with Trixie. She thinks it's unlikely he'll win, well, she'll just have to wait and see. He'll prove himself to her, and he'll get his sweet, sweet reward, but more importantly, he'll have her trust. And having her trust, is the key to keeping her at his side.
Author's Note:
Song: "Easy to Love" from "Anything Goes"
Guest (UndercoverSkeleton?): Thanks, I'll keep the Ed chapters going, maybe have them rotate with Oswald. And keep in mind if you wanna start watching "The Flash", it takes place several years after BOAF, so Harrison Wells is a bit more established there. Lol, I love how you referred to the Trickster as "the clown guy" since he was originally played by Mark Hamill, who's also played the Joker on occasion.
As for your fanfiction, I encourage you to continue trial and error (the original concept of BOAF had Natalie and Oswald stealing diamonds, you never know where these stories are going to take you). And the reason Ed doesn't have a lot of fics is because he hasn't had a lot of exposure on the show. It's mostly just people who know him from the comics or the games. Oswald gets more fics because he's a bigger character, has more character development, and is practically fangirl bait. And I agree, Ed should have his own fic, I was actually worried when I introduced him that no one would know him. Happy writing on your end!
Emily: Lol, here's your update! And the bet may take a little to complete, but I promise it'll be worth it!
Guest: Wait...they'll take it to the next level if he wins the bet, unless I'm misinterpreting your definition of "taking it to the next level". And I think when she lets her walls down, it's never going to be permanent, since Oswald's always keeping her on her toes
Fuchsia Grasshopper: Yeah, I can imagine Ed swinging around a question mark cane in the style of Jim Carrey. All in good time ;) As for the fisherman's knife, the way I tried to write it, you were suppose to know that his knife is the fisherman's knife, but I guess I didn't make that clear enough. Sorry :(
Thanks! :)