Chapter Thirteen: Happy Anniversary

"Well, I know, now, what kind of mother she was. This diary, these newspaper clippings—She has shown me just what type of mother I neither wanted nor wish to become." Sylvia said softly. "However, in doing that, she's also shown me what type of mother I want to be…when we have our child."

"Well, I suppose that's…." Oswald began, but when he registered her words, he looked at her, confused.

Sylvia stood, walked over to him, took Oswald's hand in hers, and placed his palm over her stomach.

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "Happy Anniversary, Ozzie. You're going to be a father."

A combination of expressions and emotions came over Oswald's face as he tried to digest the news given to him.

"I'm going to be a dad?" Oswald said incredulously.

He stood, and placed his hands on her belly, as though he was trying to make sure it was her to whom she was referring to as being pregnant and no one else.

"Yes! Yes, you are!"

An emotional man as Sylvia knew him to be, she let out a small "oh!" when Oswald suddenly took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. She patted his back, smiling inwardly when she heard him whisper to himself, "I'm going to be a father…!"

With the excitement of the moment assuaged, Sylvia sat across from him, steadily but sternly ripping pages out of the diary and throwing each crumpled piece into the fire, watching the flame devour it until there weren't even the ashy remnants left. She sat on the floor in her night slip, wearing a sleek baby blue robe; her legs were bent to the side like a lady. In the light of the fireplace, her eyes were as bright as blue ice crystals, and Oswald watched her in awe.

"Are you sure you don't want to just throw the whole book in?" He asked, gesturing to the diary with a little distaste. "Why torture yourself, dear?"

"I call it 'closure'." She said calmly, peering at him under heavily lidded eyes. Her soft remark quelled the rest of his words and once she'd ripped all of the pages out of the book, she threw the cover in the flames, saving it for last. It burned the brightest.

Sylvia crawled the rest of the way over to him, parting his legs so she could kneel in between them. Oswald looked down at her, but his gaze no less revealed how much he thought the world of her.

"Sit up here." He requested, his palms patting his lap.

She did as he asked. He lifted her legs up so they dangled over one of the arms of the chair. One of her hands rested on the head of it, just behind his neck; the other loosened his tie and relaxed the collar of his shirt.

"How did you find out?" He asked curiously, "about the baby?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Humor me."

"Alright, then. What I tell you stays strictly between us, though."

Oswald held up a hand and said humorously, "Promise."

"I'm serious. If Delilah hears that I've told you, she will freak out."

"In any case she does, I'm certain my staff and I will be able to handle it. No temper is greater than yours."

As though flattered, Sylvia smirked and she shoved him a little; a playful move that Oswald smiled at.

"Well," She continued, "Delilah wanted to make an appointment with the gynecologist to make sure she was pregnant. She was afraid to go, so I made an appointment with her. Personally, I thought it was going to be quite uneventful but, obviously, that wasn't the case. I went first, got my check up, typical female stuff, yada, yada. I even had my IUD checked, and I took a pregnancy test, just to show her that all was well."

Oswald looked at her quizzically.

Sylvia smiled, saying, "Not only did the doctor find out that I was pregnant, but also, my birth control has been expired for a couple of months. He said—"

"—He?"

Sylvia chuckled at how startled Oswald appeared to find out that the gynecologist was a man.

"Yes, baby. 'He'. Men do become gynecologists."

"Why do I find that odd?"

"I don't know. It's actually very common. Don't think too much on it. The doctor was very professional. No hanky-panky, you know."

"Were you awake the entire time?"

"They didn't sedate me for something as simple as this."

Oswald shuddered. It made Sylvia rediscover just how naive Oswald could be sometimes. All-knowing when it came to Falcone's domain or ruling the empire, all things dirty, underhanded, double-dealing and dangerous, but when it came to babies, gynecology, and females: his knowledge was as expansive as his mother had allowed, and that wasn't very much to boot.

Sylvia took Oswald's hands in hers.

"While there, I was told a few things too." She added. "First and foremost, I have to stop smoking…and drinking. So, bear with me if I seem a little testy. Second: as far as timelines go, I'm 2 weeks pregnant. That gives us plenty of time to start looking into things like baby clothes, shoes, diapers—that sort of thing. And judging from what the doctor said about my cervix, it should become nice, soft, and spongy by the time we get to the point of labor."

"Dare I ask what that—"

"The odds of a miscarriage are fairly low, and the baby should slip out just fine," Sylvia answered him, and Oswald looked relieved by that. "I could continue gloating about my cervix, but I think after a point, I'd only make you uncomfortable, no matter how many times you've come close to hitting it. Not that I'm complaining."

Oswald blushed a deep shade of red. Often times, until these moments, he didn't recognize just how forthright and frank she could become.

"Now that I have you all vulnerable and exposed," She said softly, kissing his cheek. "I want to know something. And I want you to be honest, and tell me the truth."

"Anything."

"Who ran the investigation?"

Oswald's blushing red returned to its normal complexion as he said, "That's irrelevant, don't you think?"

"I'm curious."

"Pigeon…"

"Who was it?"

Oswald lowered his head in defeat and he sighed, "Jim."

"My brother Jim?"

"Yes."

"Fascinating." Sylvia mused, although her smile had faltered slightly. "Let me guess. He didn't want you to tell me about what happened with our mother."

"You're right."

Sylvia's eyebrows lifted a centimeter in surprise as she said, "You don't even want to try to cover for him?"

"Honestly, my dear. Lying to you would really impede on all the progress I've made thus far."

"'Progress'?"

"Check upstairs."

"There's not going to be some weird masked vigilante waiting up there to interrogate me, is there?" Sylvia said suspiciously. "I mean, I'm all for romantic surprises but that's going a little too far."

Oswald patted her shoulder as though to encourage her further. Sylvia stood up and then walked up the stairs, to the bedroom. She smiled from ear to ear when she saw the rose petals on the carpet, how they trailed to the bed; they covered the comforters. The scent of the ocean and vanilla spritzed in the room; the candles on the dresser and end tables, lit.

As she stood within the room, looking around, Oswald remained under the door frame, watching her.

It was the expression he'd waited to see, and although he'd hoped for a grander outcome, he was no less satisfied by the way she looked at him. So tenderly. So beautiful.

Sylvia made a point to sit heavily on the mattress, giggling as she watched the comforter poof up and the petals fell to the carpet, disturbed but unharmed. She started making 'petal' angels, moving her arms and legs as she lied on the bed on her back. One petal floated up and rested on her nose. Sylvia's eyes crossed to see it, then she blew; it hovered up and then flitted down to her shoulder.

She sat up, and wiggled her fingers for Oswald to join her. He sat on the edge of the bed, only for her to grab his shoulders and lift him up and nearly drag him into the middle of the mattress. His head laid in her lap, and Sylvia caressed his face between her hands, as she looked at him, upside-down in his viewpoint.

"You're such a hopeless romantic, aren't you?" Sylvia cooed.

"I have not changed much then, have I?"

"Not in the slightest."

Sylvia placed a petal on the bridge of his nose. Oswald blew and it settled on her leg.

"You're not angry, are you? That I sought your brother out to investigate your mother's disappearance?"

"I'm not angry. No. In fact, I don't think there might have been a better person to do the job. He's become something of a bounty hunter."

"I've noticed."

"Strange's monsters are all over the place," Sylvia uttered, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. "You'd think the mayor, or the GCPD, would have found a way to track them all down, put them all to rest."

"Do you really want to know what I think?"

"I know what you think of the mayor, Oswald."

He chuckled, "You think less of Aubrey James than I do."

"I still see him as a man with his head in the box. Just because the box is gone, it doesn't change my perspective. He's as irresponsible and lackadaisical as any political official."

"Captain Barnes is back on duty."

"Yes, a fat lot of good he's done." Sylvia responded, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "He stands on the balcony, barking orders. Meanwhile, his soldiers are too scared to act, and the only person whose done anything about the monsters is a man who isn't even on the fucking Force. How brave. How noble."

"In his defense, he's recently acquired a disability."

"Mm. He limps with a cane. You and him have that same disadvantage and yet you've done a hundred more things than he has. Right along with cowardice, I should add 'laziness' to the captain's fucking career letter."

"Easy, Pet."

Sylvia smirked at him, saying, "I'm surprised you've not pointed any of this out to the media."

"I figured I'd give them time."

"It's been six months. In that time frame, what have they done?"

"I feel like you've given this speech already."

"I mentioned something like this to my brother. You can see how well it got through to him."

"I'm a little surprised you've not talked about any of this to the media."

"News reporters leave a bad aftertaste in my mouth. An oily residue. I like talking to thugs and people who like cracking skulls a lot more than people with flashing cameras. Besides, you're my charismatic husband."

Saying so, she caressed his face with her hands, her thumbs softly stroking his cheeks. Oswald turned his head ever so slightly so he nuzzled the palm of her left hand. He couldn't deny how much he loved how attentive and affectionate she was to him.

Oswald nibbled on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, and spoke his thoughts aloud: "Maybe I should get the media involved?"

"Go for it."

Taken aback by her immediate response, Oswald asked, "You approve?"

"Jim's not part of the GCPD anymore. If you want to antagonize the police, you're more than welcome to. I feel like they deserve it in a way." Sylvia responded, shrugging her shoulders. "They've relied so heavily on Jim, he gets five grand for bringing in one of them. He's no longer burdened with the task of cleaning up Gotham. So, really…who do the people have looking after them? The Mayor? The police? Hardly."

Oswald sat up, dusting the petals off him that she'd been languidly putting on his shoulders and face as they spoke.

"Besides," Sylvia purred, catching his attention. "Why would I stop you? I've never stopped you from bothering the police before. I think it'll be kinda fun, you know: put a little spice into the mix, make some noise. And since when did you ever need my approval? Normally, it's been the other way around."

She rested her back against the headboard, and cleverly smirked at him.

Oswald watched her, unable to stop himself, really. Sylvia's hands slipped between her legs, and she slid her panties down her knees as slowly and easily as possible.

"Before you go and ruffle a few feathers, Ozzie…maybe we should make a little noise of our own. It is our anniversary." Sylvia said coyly, wrinkling her nose playfully at him.

Well, he'd never turned her down before. Why would he start now?

Oswald only left the bed long enough to close and the lock the door.