Chapter Twenty-Four: Her Baby Girl

In the days that followed, a few things happened: Harvey Bullock was somewhat taking charge while Captain Nathaniel Barnes was in and out of the hospital in recovery after being stabbed by the late Theo Galavan. Demetri Byrd was discharged from the hospital, and Sylvia went to the baby doctor to find out the sex of their unborn child.

While these things were probably irrelevant to one another, they were relevant to Oswald's stress.

Unfortunately, for him, the Crime Families within Gotham had become so addlepated by Strange's monsters, including the knowledge that Fish Mooney was leading them, that they were messing up more often. Profits weren't showing; in fact, Oswald was led to believe that there were a few rats hiding in the belfry, trying to skim what they could off the surface before it was their time to be exterminated.

While Sylvia had been understanding of the role he needed to play, that didn't stop Oswald from feeling guilty for having to miss the grand moment the two of them had been waiting for. She had the news, of course—he would just have to hear the news later on in the day.

During said day, Demetri was discharged from the hospital. While Sylvia entrusted that he was a 'new man' after having witnessed his life flashing before his eyes in a matter of minutes, Oswald was beside himself. In fact, he was certain that Demetri was hovering in the grass until the time came to betray his sympathetic Patron…and they'd be in the same boat they were in once again except this time Demetri would succeed where Delilah did not.

Oswald instructed for Gabe to keep a close eye on Demetri. For the moment, he was preoccupied with Harvey Bullock's GCPD not doing squat about Fish Mooney. He didn't expect them to find her, or even get close, but there was news circulating the underground about how Ethel Peabody had been kidnapped last night, and that the police were tipped off about some bank near Kane Sound being Fish's hideout.

He sat in the mansion, watching the media frenzy. While he earnestly awaited news of Fish Mooney's capture, one hand remained fitted around his cell phone, where he was waiting for Sylvia to call him and tell him she was on her way back from the hospital.

In a few minutes, a text message made his phone vibrate; he peered at the message Sylvia had sent him. It was simple: 'Fish escaped. Going by GCPD. Love you." Following her two sweet words was a small blue heart emoji.

Oswald frowned. Of course, the police let Fish escape. How droll.

He stood to his feet, buttoned the last two buttons on his dress coat, grabbed his cane, and with Butch tracking behind him, Oswald decided that he would make an appearance to the media once more. This time, he would not be so civil. This time, he'd make sure that every citizen of Gotham—not just the police—would be after Strange's monsters. If it meant having peace restored in his empire once more, and a few days of quiet with his wife, Oswald would instill in the crowd some motivation to hunt down every one of those monsters and kill them all.

Originally, Sylvia had been heading towards the police station to pick Harvey's brain about how quickly Fish had escaped from their clutches. Eager to see the aftermath of Fish's escape, Sylvia drove her car alongside the few police cars that were parallel parked along the curb of the bank.

Swiftly, she looked around, and she spotted Harvey Bullock walking to his car, defeated. She called his name, and he turned to see her. There was little surprise on his face as he greeted her with an unenthusiastic smile.

"I told you I was able to help."

"I remembered our conversation."

"But…?"

"Look at you, Liv." Harvey said, gesturing to her figure.

"So?"

"You're pregnant."

"I reiterate: So?" Sylvia repeated, looking at him pointedly. "If you'd have listened to me this morning, I'd have been in on what the GCPD was planning, and I'd have probably helped you get Fish."

"It wasn't just Fish in there—"

"I wouldn't expect Fish to be the only one in there. Please tell me you were expecting others to be in there, because if you weren't…" She tsked, but she offered mercy when he leaned against his own car, looking at her with desperately tired eyes. "So, fine, forget Fish. You and your cop buddies managed to put a few other monsters down before she flew the coop."

Harvey looked at her and said unhappily, "What will Jim say when he finds out you're trying to get in on these dangerous missions. He'll probably skin my hide if he found out—"

"First things first. Jim knows I'm trying to help you. Second, I'm a grown-ass woman and I can do whatever I want with or without his approval."

"I'd have thought having a baby would make you more docile."

"In some circumstances, it has." Sylvia admitted, and she inadvertently touched her belly with her hand.

"How's Penguin taking it?" He asked, but she wasn't able to answer his question as a large, brown van with dark tinted windows crept forward.

The moment it stopped; two misfits jumped out of the van. One was silver-haired, youthful while the other was dressed in black with a mouthpiece over her jaw. Quickly, Harvey put one arm in front of Sylvia, pushing her behind him protectively.

"Fish Mooney wants to see you," said the first.

Harvey moved to pull out his gun, but the young silver fox moved a lot faster, almost supernatural-like. She held the gun, pointing it at Harvey, who immediately was subdued as he said, "All right, all right!"

Sylvia started inching away, hoping they'd be more interested in Harvey so that she could flee, call Jim, tell him what happened. But the eldest of Strange's monsters—who in her defense appeared more human out of all of them—strode forward, grabbing Sylvia's arm.

"She'd love to see you too."

"Great." Sylvia said, managing a calm smile although her heart skipped four beats.

Harvey grumbled under his breath, and Sylvia followed him (with the others striding) and they were forced into the large dark van without another minute to spare. Harvey and Sylvia were forced to give up their cell phones—god forbid they tried to make a desperate call to anyone they cared about.

As Harvey and Sylvia sat down on one side, they were met face-to-face with Fish Mooney, who smiled all too widely when she saw who graced her presence.

"Hey, Harvey." Fish greeted.

"Hey, Fish, how're you doing?"

"Not too good."

"That sucks," Harvey responded carelessly.

"And who do we have here," Fish all but drawled. She smirked when she recognized Sylvia on sight. "My, my, my…Hello, Sylvia."

"Hello, Ms. Mooney."

"I'm impressed already. You've not tried to hurt any of my friends, or me."

Sylvia didn't respond.

Perhaps she had been mistaken when she told Oswald not to kill Fish Mooney on sight. Seeing the woman now, Sylvia wanted nothing more than to place at least five-hundred yards between them.

"You know there's a lot of people out there looking for you," Harvey stated, in partial hope that Fish would be more drawn to his conversation than to stare at Sylvia.

"It appears that way, doesn't it," said Fish coolly. "I even hear there's a million-dollar bounty on my head." She pointedly smiled at Sylvia, who shrugged a shoulder. She added: "I need to find that bastard, Strange."

"Yeah, well, you know I can't help you with that."

"Oh, you can. And you will."

Fish leaned forward, kissed Harvey on the lips, and then a second later, Harvey had switched sides, saying, "I'll help you find Strange."

"Good boy." Fish cooed, smirking at him. She then turned to Sylvia: "You know. I think it's time we have a heart-to-heart right now."

"Absolutely not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've used that expression myself. You want a heart-to-heart? No. You want to rip my heart out of my body and feed it to..." She glanced at their present company, all of whom were glaring her down. "Well, I don't think I have to say it."

"I don't want to kill you."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Well, I killed your mom. But…in my defense, I didn't realize that was your mother until way after. Had I known—well, I would've probably killed anyone else."

"That's sweet. If you want to even the playing field," Fish drawled. "I could shoot yours."

"Fat chance of that happening."

"Why is that?"

"My mother committed suicide when I was nine," She answered apathetically. "And that's not a ploy either to make you think she's dead. I just found out this year, so…"

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be."

Fish cocked her head to the side, almost amused by Sylvia's reaction. Then the woman noticed that Sylvia was holding her stomach almost too protectively. It didn't take long for her to realize her secret.

"My, my," Fish cooed. "I guess I know now why you've not made any attempts on my life."

"Perhaps I just want to be civil."

"Civility? Don't be modest, child."

"I'm not being modest."

"No…" said Fish gently. She leaned forward; Sylvia, by instinct, retreated with her back against the van. "You have a little bun in the oven, don't you?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"Well, it certainly explains your docility."

"Perhaps I'm just fearing for my own life."

Fish laughed, "I don't think I've ever seen you fear for your own life. Not in a million years…it's always someone else you're protecting, isn't it, little girl: Oswald, your brother, your friends…even Harvey here."

"Ms. Mooney…"

"Don't insult my intelligence."

Sylvia felt very small when she was in the line sight of Fish's glare. Even after all these years, that feeling never changed.

"Fine. You're right." She admitted quietly, looking down at her feet. "I'm pregnant."

"How far are you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious."

Sylvia lifted her eyes, and stubbornly returned, "But why?"

"Just indulge me."

When Sylvia didn't answer her immediately, the silver-haired young lady cocked the hammer back on the gun she was carrying, the barrel aiming at her. Fish glared at her, taking her wrist and lowering it so the gun no longer was directed at Sylvia.

"Four months."

The danger and callousness seen in Fish's eyes flickered, as though it nearly vanished. Then again, maybe Sylvia was getting a little woozy—all she could think about was the danger her child was in…and this time, she hadn't even meant to put herself in this situation. It just literally happened!

For a moment, Fish's attention was drawn back to Harvey, who directed the van left and right—the driver (another one of Strange's monsters, or someone that had been manipulated by whatever Fish's power supposedly was) followed his instructions to a 'T'. Sylvia licked her lips uncertainly, even more so when she felt the baby cuddle 'closer' to her inside her own womb.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Sylvia whispered, patting her belly. "It's going to be fine."

Fish glanced at her swiftly, then the van had stopped moving.

"What's happening? Where are we going? Why did we stop?"

"Just keep moving," the silver fox ordered, pressing Harvey's gun against Sylvia's shoulder. "And stop asking so many questions."

"I'd be asking less questions," Sylvia retorted as she stepped off the back of the van, "if you'd tell me what the hell I am doing outside of…what is this fucking place?"

Fish grinned widely as she met Sylvia around the back. She took her hand, and Sylvia startled.

"It's where they've been keeping Strange." Fish explained.

"Oh…okay, then." Sylvia murmured, curious as to why Fish was holding her hand as they walked to the door just moments after Harvey had introduced himself to the soldiers guarding the entrance.

When talking didn't do the trick, Fish's lackeys put a bullet in each of them. Harvey looked less than thrilled, but walked inside with Fish and Sylvia, who was still trying to understand the nature of Fish's feelings for her.

What was Fish planning to do with her when all was said and done, really? She asked about the baby, and seemed more than inclined to be friendly. Despite the death threats on her mother's life, Fish had barely made any other threat to Sylvia, despite their adversarial past. And that was what made this situation that much scarier.

After the events that took place where Hugo Strange had set a bomb to blow up half of Gotham because of what his monsters were capable of doing, he was arrested and kept locked away where no one except Capt. Barnes and Harvey Bullock were privy to know. Forget the fact that this man had changed Fish in more ways than one, but also had intervened in Sylvia and Oswald's marriage, resulting in a separation. even if it had only been temporary.

When Sylvia and Fish walked through the door, they were met with the doctor who was sitting inside something of a glass cube, wearing full white garb. He reminded Sylvia of a bald albino goldfish wading inside a small aquarium, whose only predilection would consist of writing formulas on the glass walls or swimming to and fro as he steadily went mad.

It was a fitting premise, if ever Sylvia had to come up with one detailing the future events in the doctor's life.

Upon seeing his guests (if one called them that), Hugo Strange glanced up from his papers and even had to do a double take. Slowly, he rose from his desk and just as cautiously approached the glass wall.

"Professor Strange," Fish said calmly. "You and I have some unfinished business."

Instead of fearful, Strange appeared nostalgic, seeing Fish Mooney, who was his own creation.

Sylvia remained glued to the wall farthest from the two as she crossed her arms and tried to appear invisible. Even while Fish hadn't made any threats on her life, who was to say that once Fish had finished with Strange that she wouldn't start?

As discreetly as possible, Sylvia looked all around for a phone. A phone, a letter…a fucking pigeon—any matter of contact that she could make outside of these walls so that she could alert either Jim or Oswald that she was in trouble. Alas, despite the loveliness of the interior that was the mansion, there seemed to be hardly anything.

Go fucking figure, she thought.

"Look at you," Strange said breathlessly. "You were my greatest creation."

"Your 'greatest creation' is dying," Fish replied unhappily.

"What?"

"You're going to fix me, Daddy. And when that's done, you're going to make me an army. An army of people just like me, so that I can have this city kneeling at my feet."

Sylvia muttered to Harvey, "She scares the shit out of me but you gotta hand it to her; she has ambitions."

He responded, glaring at her, "Shut up, Liv."

"But I can't," Strange told Fish sadly. "I can't fix you."

Fish looked ready to respond with all the hatred and bitterness in her soul but the humane monster who wore a mouth piece approached her dutifully, saying, "Fish. Cops. Lots of them."

Sylvia startled at the statement, and glanced curiously at Harvey, who returned her nonverbal question with a shrug of his own. Neither of them had been able to contact the GCPD as of this moment, and yet, here they were, apparently swarming around the mansion.

"You have a few minutes to rethink your answer," Fish warned Strange. "I suggest you do."

She shortly left with her monster friends, one of which forced Harvey to go as well. As Sylvia began to follow them, Fish turned and quickly told the others to go on. Sylvia quickly retreated, stepping back a few paces until her back hit the wall with Fish standing in front of her.

"Ms. Mooney, I—" Sylvia began, although she wasn't certain what she was ready to say or do.

Fish put a hand on her face, gently caressing her jaw.

Like a mother.

Fish had attempted to use her own power on Sylvia as she had done to persuade Harvey to help her, but whatever her intention had been, it seemed lost on her. The woman had braced herself for the pain that would have surely accompanied her ability, but when it never came, her eyes—both her hazel brown as well as the ocean blue—gazed at her as though Sylvia was not the same woman that Fish had known all these years.

"You still care for me." Fish whispered, more shocked than reassured. "Don't you, Sylvia?"

"Well, my feelings about you aren't simple, I can tell you that right now," Sylvia said with a nervous laugh, just as uncertain of what Fish might do next. "I mean, look at the facts. You tried to have my husband killed multiple times, not to mention my brother…and myself." (She knew she was rambling but she couldn't stop herself due to her anxiety.) "You stabbed my husband's hand with a fucking broach pen, but then I killed your mom, so you know, I guess we're kinda even. But again, in my defense, I didn't know she was your mom, not until someone had told me. Then you died—you know that first time—but came back to life, somehow, and I thought you were dead but I guess you never were…held up in some strange warehouse—I suppose that's how you have two different eyes now—but alas, never really dead. Then I thought we were even—you know, you go after us, we go after you—but Oswald pushed you off a building…I'd love to say I'm sorry for that, but after what you did to him, I can't say that. I thought that was the end of that, but then you came back to life, and that's—I'm still trying to figure out how that happened….now that I th-think about it, I guess that's why you're here talking to Strange and stuff. I thought you'd settle the score and kill me too, but now I'm just trying to figure out why you're like this. Like this...like—"

The hand that wasn't caressing her face lifted to silence Sylvia's rant. Sylvia stared at Fish, waiting for the slap or some kind of punishment for all these years of doubt, betrayal, what-have-you, but it never came.

"I have an ability," Fish told Sylvia quietly. "To make people do what I want without use of force or violence."

"Yeah, I saw that in the van with Harvey…"

"I've had to use it often."

"I could see why."

"But not with you."

"Pardon?"

Fish caressed Sylvia's face with both hands now, and Sylvia protectively shielded her child from whatever might come later.

"I just tried using my ability with you, and…"

"If you're going to kill me, Ms. Mooney. Could you do it without the blather?"

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes." She admitted, nodding emphatically.

"Are you afraid that I might kill you?"

"More than ever."

"I wouldn't kill you." Fish said lovingly.

That's right…lovingly. The words that came out of her mouth almost sounded like she was hurt by Sylvia's assumption.

"You're my baby girl. And I've never been prouder of you."

Sylvia blinked.

"I shot. Your mom. Oswald threw you over a building. You should want to kill me…"

"But I don't want to do that. I've seen how much you've grown…and look at you now. I've seen how people respond to your name alone…and I could not be prouder of my baby girl." Fish cooed, grinning at her. Doting.

"Wow…" Sylvia muttered. "Honestly, I was expecting anything but that."

"Yes. I can be quite unpredictable."

"Fish!"

Hearing her name, she sighed and patted Sylvia's shoulder, saying, "Excuse me. I have a few things to tend to. Do be a dear, though, and watch him."

Sylvia nodded and watched Fish leave to take care of the cop situation.

She smiled at Hugo Strange, who watched her from behind his glass barrier.

"So, we meet again," sighed Sylvia, eyeballing him carefully. "If I had a comfy arm chair, I'd sit down, ask you a few questions about your childhood and then it would be my turn to ask 'how does that make you feel'."

"Mrs. Cobblepot, I can assure you that allying yourself with Mooney will be one of your most tragic mistakes."

"May be." And she didn't say anything else after that.

Jim knew that Harvey had been kidnapped, especially when after the cop didn't answer his phone or his pager. And when Sylvia didn't answer her phone either, the plot thickened and his worry increased tenfold. After telling Barnes, the police were sent to the mansion; it was Fish's only logical step that if Peabody was unable to help her, then she had to go straight to the source.

As the cops swarmed around the mansion, Jim headed the team to the front entrance, along with Barnes who stood there as well, ready to pool the team inside to rescue their brother. Jim's phone started going off, and he recognized Harvey's number. Barnes quickly grabbed it, and questioned the caller.

Fish's voice came out, clear as a bell: "Oh, he's fine. But this ain't Harvey."

"I want to talk to him."

"Sure." Fish returned reasonably.

Barnes and Jim waited on the other line, and heard Harvey's voice: "Hey, Cap. How are ya? Sorry."

Jim said quietly, "Ask her if she has Sylvia."

"Why would she have—" Barnes growled.

Fish must have heard them because she said lightly, "Sylvia Cobblepot? Or as the papers call her: 'Lark'. Oh yes…I have her too. We've just been having a nice girl talk."

Jim frowned; he and Barnes exchanged worried glances.

"You have one chance, Mooney," Barnes spoke to her on the phone. "If you let them go, you might just make it out of this."

"Chump. You're speaking to a dying woman, which severely limits your negotiating position. So, here's how it's going to go down. One cop comes within twenty feet of this place, Harvey and Sylvia—as much as I love them—will eat a bullet. I'm assuming Gordon is there with you?"

Barnes glanced at Jim, who returned the surprised reaction.

"Yes, he is." Barnes said quietly.

"You'd be sure to let him know that while I'm not the monster the papers or Dr. Strange have made me out to be, I do not want to do it but I will eliminate all of whom is necessary in order to get what I want. Even if that means killing Sylvia and her unborn child. Now, I don't want to do that, so please, don't make me."

The worried look that framed Jim's face became one of protection and vengeance. Fish threatened his best friend's life, his sister's, as well as the life of his unborn niece or nephew…now that was inexcusable.

And apparently, the woman hung up.

Barnes appeared defeated.

"What's going on? How was Bullock?"

"LISTEN UP!" Barnes shouted, gathering the attention of every nearby cop. "I want a full perimeter! Snipers on every corner! Mooney does not make it out of this! Understood?"

Everyone agreed while Jim was beside himself. He caught Barnes' arm, saying, "Captain, you cannot just leave them there!"

"You think that's what I'm doing? I'm just not charging through the front door so that he gets killed. Now, I'll remind you: you are no longer a police officer. If you get in my way, I'll have you arrested!"

And then the pressed arrived to which Barnes let out a derisive groan.

Oswald sat in the mansion, still waiting for Sylvia's call…but the media struck an interesting query.

Butch stood behind him; his hands lazily rested on the back of Oswald's chair as he nonchalantly looked on.

On the screen was a woman who stood amongst many others trying to break through the perimeter of cops, as she continued her report: "We are standing outside the mansion and preliminary reports are that wanted escapee from Indian Hill, Fish Mooney, has barricaded herself inside and is holding a hostage…"

Oswald released a satisfied sigh, saying, "Here it is, Butch. She's finally cornered. Like a rat."

"Yeah, but what are you gonna do?" Butch asked calmly. "The cops are already there."

"The GCPD is not Gotham, and Gotham listens to me."

As he stood and prepared to leave, Butch cleared his throat and said warily, "Boss, you might want…"

"What?" Oswald questioned, but he turned to look at the television once more, and realized what Butch was unhappily looking at.

The reporter had continued: "Fish Mooney, an escapee from Indian Hill, has reportedly locked herself inside the mansion where currently Hugo Strange has been hidden away. My sources have reported that Fish Mooney has not only taken one hostage, but two: they are Harvey Bullock, one of GCPD's detectives, and one of Mooney's older associates, Sylvia Cobblepot."

Oswald quickly turned off the television, and he said promptly to Butch, "Come, Butch. It's time to round up our friends."

Sylvia meandered around the small room, idly glancing over the paintings that were nailed to the polished walls. While Strange had originally tried talking to her with a vague attempt of helping him escape, his efforts were lost on her.

She approached the glass, and said calmly, "Strange, while Oswald was put away, you were not helpful one bit. In fact, from what I've gathered, you intercepted the letters that he was sending to me and I, to him, with some half-pint idea that he would be fully rehabilitated and would no longer want or need me. Was that a goal of yours?"

Strange said lightly, "Your husband was sick—"

"So is half of Gotham, what's your point?"

"Mrs. Cobblepot, I had no intention of separating you and your husband. I knew that with distance, there would be a—"

"'Distance makes the heart grow stronger'?" Sylvia recited, smirking at him. "Please. With all your diagnoses and therapeutic knowledge, I was hoping for a far more interesting excuse than that little tripe. Geez…how exactly did you get your fucking degree?"

"It has worked in the past for many patients."

"Did any of them want to kill you?"

"Well, some, but—"

"If the outcome is the same, I'd probably try to go in a different direction. Look at me, for instance. Most people follow me and I don't have to offer them money, jewels…therapy." She made a scathing noise. "In fact, they seem to be consistently loyal without me ever even trying."

"If that's the case," Strange said darkly, "You would have an army at your disposal."

"Well, not every follower has honest intentions of staying that way. You get a treacherous scoundrel from time to time. Them's the breaks."

"And yet, you believe the people you have are loyal to you."

"For the moment, yeah. One apple spoils the bunch…but I've acquired many faithful subjects."

"Oh yes, and not just from the criminal pot. So loving as your followers are, they've given you a name. A name, dare I say, that even the police officers and the news reporters use."

"Yes, a name," Sylvia returned. "It's not a name that I made up or even claim, but it seems to work."

"Oh, yes. 'Lark'. The guards and soldiers here have even commented on its subtle appeal."

"I don't let it go to my head."

"Of course not. Of course not. You've always had that chip on your shoulder, the thing that keeps you down-to-earth; it's what attracts your followers, perhaps that, and your unmentionable power to subdue the one authoritarian figure that everyone in Gotham truly fears."

Sylvia leaned against the wall, saying, "You're doing it again. Talking out of your ass."

"Perhaps," Strange drawled. "But let's be honest, shall we? While people in Gotham believe that the Penguin rules with the iron first, is the 'King of Gotham', those who are more perceptive know the truth."

"What fucking truth?"

"You're the woman behind the man," He said with an ironic smile. "If anyone wants to get to Penguin, they merely have to get to you. Or, soon enough, your child. He is no more a god than you or I, and if anyone wanted to bring him down, all they'd have to do is seek you out, eliminate you entirely, and then the king would crumble."

Sylvia glared at him.

"Or maybe," sighed Strange as his eyes twinkled. "Perhaps it goes both ways. A double-edged sword, to say. If someone went after Penguin, eliminated his existence, the queen would fall. Yes, I daresay that while your marriage has been a mutual symbiotic relationship—perhaps borderline commensalism—I imagine that if one was left without the other, it would result in self-destruction. As strong as you are, as tough as your mind is, it's rather tragic."

Sylvia approached the glass, ready to slit his throat despite how accurate his acclaim was. That was until Fish sauntered back into the room, glancing between the two with mild interest.

"Is everything all right?" Fish questioned gently.

Sylvia glanced at her and muttered, "Fucking peachy." She glanced when the others didn't follow, asking, "Where's Harvey?"

"He's with our friends, keeping the others in line."

"Are the police going to be a problem?"

"Not for me. No."

Well, that was hardly reassuring, wasn't it? By her statement, the police weren't a problem for Fish, but they'd become a problem for herself…that was easiest to see.

"Where were we…?" Fish drawled as she climbed into the glass cube. And Hugo Strange looked even less inclined to antagonize Sylvia.

"Believe me," said Strange sincerely. "If I could fix you, I would. I think of you as one of my own children. But I can't."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Give up!?"

"Do you not understand what you are? What you represent? You are the first of a new generation. A new Eve."

Clearly, that wasn't the answer Fish wanted. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment in thought, glanced at Sylvia, who was in all honesty uncertain what to do with herself. Fish steadily approached Strange, who remained bravely still.

"You know I owned a club once," She said carefully. "Ran protection on the side. Every first of the month people would pay me. Every once and a while, someone would always come up short and they'd say, 'Mooney, I don't have the money.' 'Mooney, I need more time.' Then, they would cry and cry. Wouldn't they, Sylvia?"

She nodded, unable to suppress a small little smile. Back when she actually worked for Fish. Woke up in the morning and actually looked forward to working for the woman simply because there was always something to see, and frankly, because the woman was a sight to behold at any point of the day. And the memory made Sylvia smile, but it was also sad; look how far they'd come from that point. Look, indeed.

"Then I discovered," Fish continued darkly, "that when I squeezed them, and squeezed them, and squeezed them. They always had more."

Sylvia's heart fluttered. Maybe it was out of pity for Fish. Or maybe it was because the child inside kicked her bladder and the movement made her both want to physically piss herself as well as just leap for joy.

"You are going to fix me," Fish said tearfully. "Or I swear to god, you will pray for your death—"

"Fish!"

"What are the cops doing now?"

"It's not the cops," said the woman with the mouthpiece, who glared at Sylvia. And Fish glanced at her as well, knowing what her friend meant.

Sylvia followed Fish and the woman towards what would be the living room area. Sylvia glanced out of the window to see that on top of the officers from the GCPD, Oswald was leading a mob of people, all of whom were carrying pitch forks, torches (how cliché, she thought), baseball bats, shovels, and an array of other blunt objects. Presumably, they'd storm the castle and kill all of whom were threatening their livelihood.

Perhaps it was because Fish Mooney was inside and Oswald was tired of waiting for someone to bring her to him. Or maybe, he'd listened long enough to the news and discovered that along with Harvey Bullock, she was the other hostage, and that's why he'd led a mob to the GCPD's operation.

Maybe it was both.

"Sylvia…"

She turned around to see Fish Mooney watching her with avid amusement.

"Oswald certainly knows how to transform a small event into a standing ovation, doesn't he?" Fish said coolly.

"It's one of the things I love most about him."

"Your honesty might get you killed, baby girl."

"No more than what a lie would do for me."

Fish chuckled, "Also true. A prince coming to rescue his princess…it would be romantic if it wasn't inconvenient."

They rejoined back in the room with Hugo Strange, who watched the two women with unease. There was some movement in the other room, and Fish sighed, opening the double doors to see that yet another of Sylvia's regular heroes had ascended upon the situation.

"Bring him in." Fish said lackadaisically.

Sylvia didn't know to whom she was referring until Jim came striding inside, looking expectantly at her.

"Jim!"

"Hey, Vee." Jim greeted with a small smile. "Harvey."

"Jim, what the hell are you doing here!" Harvey responded.

"Saving you—I thought that was obvious."

"Oh well, thank you."

"Why are you here, Gordon?" Fish questioned. "Did your little cop friend send you inside to talk me down? Get me to turn myself in, because that's not going to happen."

"I came on my own. I want only these two."

"If you take these two, I haven't any hostages. But, now that I'm thinking about it, you've given me three."

"Barnes won't see it that way. You still only have one."

"Technically, she has four." Sylvia muttered.

"That's right…" Fish cooed, grinning at her. "You, Gordon, Harvey, and that sweet little thing." She glanced at Sylvia's stomach, then turned to Jim pointedly.

"I've been a pain in Barnes' side," Jim explained. "If you take me out, he'll see it as a godsend."

"True."

"And he doesn't care much for Vee either."

"Also, true."

"Then you better give me one good reason," Fish threatened, "Why I shouldn't let my friends kill you."

"Mooney." Sylvia softly pleaded.

Fish glanced at her with considerable understanding then turned to Jim, waiting.

"I can get you out of here."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that, considering this whole place is surrounded." Fish responded practically.

"That's my problem. I get you out of here, I get Bullock and my sister."

"Your sister would be great leverage for me, actually. I might just keep her."

"There's danger to come if you do that."

"You get Harvey, at least. I get this one," Fish said, gesturing to Strange, who began to protest.

"Deal." Jim replied.

"'Deal'? Are you telling me you're not even going to try and save your sister?"

"Sylvia never needs to be saved. She can take care of herself, as she has frequently told me in the past," Jim stated. While his tone was serious, there was a small proud little smile daring to tug at the corner of his mouth. He continued cautiously, "If I were you, Mooney, I'd be thinking of a way to get out of range once you're out."

"Oh really? Why is that?"

"Oswald is very protective of her," Jim said coolly, tilting his head in his sister's direction. "You're not just taking his wife hostage; you have his entire family with you. You already have a bounty on your head, but now you've put a target on your back."

"Hmm. Very well. I'll take it under advisement. You have two minutes."

Jim stepped away to place a call. Meanwhile, Fish looked at Sylvia, who watched her cautiously.

"Your brother isn't as protective of you as he once was," Fish noted.

"You don't know him as well as I do." Sylvia answered lightly.

"If he doesn't deliver…"

"He will deliver. Why even give him the chance to do what he said he would do if you don't even believe he'd do it?"

"When a woman is desperate, she's liable to believe anything." Fish said quietly, and the desperation in her own voice made Sylvia's heart sink into her stomach.

Jim got off the phone, came back into the room. Just as he did, Marv, one of Strange's monsters who could also reverse a person's youth, came through the door with quick report: "The mob has broken through the front door, but the back way is clear. We can make it through the woods."

"Time to go," Fish declared. She grabbed Hugo Strange, and turned, addressing Harvey, "No hard feelings."

"Fish, screw you."

"Fair enough."

Marv started to reach for Sylvia to be sure that she came along with them. She wrenched her arm away as she said, "Don't you touch me! I can fucking walk on my own!"

Marv took her feisty comment to heart, pulling his hands away from her, but he herded her with Fish out of the doors.

"Are we really just going to let Fish walk out with Liv!" Harvey said incredulously.

Jim returned, "I made a deal with Penguin."

"Oh, that's comforting."

"Doubt, now?" Jim said reproachfully. "Penguin annoys the hell out of me, but if there was only one thing I can count on him to do, it's protecting Vee."

Sylvia strode behind Fish, Hugo Strange, and Marv, glancing behind her as the mob burst through the doors with heat in their eyes. They were damn near past the clearing before all four of them heard the click and cock of a gun. When she turned, she saw Oswald standing there, cane in hand; the other held the gun, which was pointed at Fish, who seemed awe-struck.

"Go!" Oswald snarled at Marv, who glanced at Fish indicatively. "Sylvia, get away from her."

Fish nodded her head and Marv quickly disseminated, while Sylvia stepped away and moved to Oswald's side, not before giving Fish a sympathetic side glance.

He looked her over for a moment before he turned to address the quarry.

"That's better." Oswald said with a smile. "Just old friends."

"Oswald…" Fish began.

"Don't call me that! My name is Penguin. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? How long I've been waiting for this very moment?"

"Mr. Cobblepot…" Strange began.

"Quiet!" Oswald ordered.

"So, this is how it ends?" Fish said ironically. "I spare your life, and you shoot me dead in the woods like an animal?"

"Pretty much, yes. But I will admit. That night under the bridge stayed with me. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you kill me? I have gone over that night a thousand times in my mind and it doesn't make any sense. Why didn't you kill me—I would have killed you in an instant."

She didn't respond.

"ANSWER ME!" Oswald shouted.

"Because you're mine."

Sylvia glanced at her curiously.

"You were my Umbrella Boy." Fish uttered softly. "Remember? You rubbed my feet when they were tired. And now look at you, the terror of Gotham. Everything I've done with my life, possibly the best thing was turning Oswald Cobblepot into the Penguin. I couldn't destroy that. Ask him" (Fish indicated Strange.) "He understands what it's like to bring something into being…as you will know soon enough. It is a part of you…forever."

Oswald looked like he was on the brink of an emotional wave. His cheeks were damp from the few tears that had rolled down his face. Sylvia touched his wrist. Oswald glanced at her, then to Fish.

He pulled himself together and said calmly, "Good-bye, Fish. Don't come back."

She didn't look the gift horse in the mouth; she nodded, then left with Strange, running past him. Sylvia watched after them for a moment, then stood in front of Oswald, a hand caressing his jawline while the other rested on his shoulder. He smiled at her; she smiled back.

They walked back to the mansion where a pile of monsters as being burned.

"Quite the riot you've started, Mr. Penguin." Sylvia observed.

"It was easier than I thought it would be. Anger is an easy emotion to manipulate."

"It's going to be a shame."

"What is?"

"The monsters being gone," said Sylvia lightly. "My brother might have to go back to the Force."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Sylvia watched as the crowd approached Oswald, looking like they would worship the ground on which he stood.

She returned idly, "I can handle him getting in trouble when he's a police officer a lot more than when he's a bounty hunter. Of the two evils—despite how insufferable he can be holding it— I'd rather him have a badge."

Oswald chortled. The mob—now a friendly, raucous crowd—picked Oswald up and starting cheering, chanting his name over and over again. Sylvia stepped out of the lime light, smiling in spite of herself.

Jim met her on the sidelines.

"I thought you hated Fish Mooney." He stated as he grimly watched the crowd celebrate his brother-in-law.

"I thought I did too."

"So, what, you like her now?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do you hate her?"

"I'm not sure," Sylvia repeated. "She's a complicated woman, Jim. There's no one way of feeling about her."

"That's funny."

"What's funny?"

"You and Fish Mooney have a lot of similarities that way." Jim said calmly, looking at her while he crossed his arms and leaned against one of the cop's cars.

"What can I say? She helped mold me into what I am today. You have to remember, Jim—at one point, I was her baby girl…seems only fitting that I'll soon have my own."

Jim startled, looking at her with wide eyes: "You mean…?"

"That's right. I'm having a girl." She answered, smiling widely.

Jim whistled low, smiling at her. He continued watching the crowd cheer Oswald, chanting the man's name over and over.

He sighed, shaking his head, saying, "This is too much for me. I might go back to the Force."

"I was wondering when you were going to do that."

"Barnes asked me to come back."

"That's noble of him."

"He'd rather me be a pain in his ass that he can control rather than being one where he has no jurisdiction."

"At the rate you're going, you'll give him hemorrhoids."

"Colorful, Vee."

"Well, you're a pain in Barnes' ass no matter if you're a cop or not. You'll always be that hemorrhoid that won't go away, no matter how much cream he uses. He can always get a tire to sit on, I suppose."

Jim stared at her, then burst out laughing.