Chapter 13

Flourescent lights cascaded upon the corpse's pallid flesh. It shone into the I.V bags, turning their teal contents to liquid jewelry. Tubes crawled from the bags like umbilical cords. Several lab assistants gently transferred those tubes into the corpse, where holes had been drilled for that very purpose. Through the glass window, in hidden safety, the minds behind the operation watched. One with cooled professionalism. The other with childlike delight just bubbling beneath the surface. "Our moment has arrived, Mrs. Peabody." Professor Strange smiled. "Our success here could finally free humanity from the shackles of mortality." He watched on, proud and excited, like a father watching his child trying to stand up.

Mrs. Peabody wasn't so easily swayed. "As you said the first dozen times we tried reanimation. And failed." She observed drily.

"Ah," Professor Strange said, "but I have a very good feeling about Patient 44. You need to be more positive." With that, he grabbed a flashlight and pushed past his partner. The scientists moved aside as he hovered over his patient, flashing the light in his eyes. Mirs. Peabody followed, bursting through the door. "Patient 44's e.e.g patterns confirm paradoxyl sleep. We're getting close." Turning the light off, he smiled down at the almost serene face. "He's getting close."

The face of Theo Galavan twitched. Then, relaxed.

Sunlight beamed in Ruby's face, forcing her out of her dreamless sleep. Groaning, she covered her eyes with one hand and reached out with the other. It stretched, losing its bones along the way, until it reached the curtains on the other side of the room. Tired fingers found the drapes and gave a strong yank. The sunlight was obliterated in an instant. Ruby sighed in relief and shifted on the sofa. An arm draped around her side, holding her close.

Ruby stopped. Dark blue eyes opened. Her heartbeat, which had been going so slowly in sleep, began to pick up the pace. Quickly she sat up. Looked down and sighed in relief. Good, she was still wearing clothes. Different, more casual clothes, yes - a Nirvana T-shirt and polka-dot sweatpants - but nevertheless clothes. She quickly hiked up her shirt, pulling down the collar and rolling up her pants' legs. No bruises. No scratches. Nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

She looked around as sleep finally surrendered her memory. It was the tea room. The very one where, less than twenty-four hours ago, she'd confronted the Van Dahls for poisoning the Master's wine. Now, it was littered with papers, photos, and several emptied tea mugs. And an empty peanut butter jar or two.

Ruby smiled. She'd never have to serve them again. Never again would she have to hear Charles babble about the boring novel he'd never publish. She'd never have to give Sasha a French pedicure while the girl chatted for hours on the phone with her bubble-headed friends. And she would never again have to look at Grace, forcing a smile when all she'd really wanted was to spit in their faces.

They'd all gotten what they'd deserved. Thanks to Oswald.

Ruby smiled, slowly turning to the person on the couch beside her. Despite his formal attire, which he'd refused to get out of all night, he still looked adorable. He was curled up admist the pillows, breathing softly. His hair looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket, but his expression was like the cat who'd eaten the canary.

The maid watched him with affection, recalling in detail what had happened. After a bountiful feast in the saloon, the two had washed the dishes together. Ruby couldn't remember the last time someone had helped her with the dishes. Then, she'd excused herself to bathe and change. Oswald had agreed, asking that she brew up some tea and meet him in the, well, tea room. She'd given him a thumbs-up before departing to the bathroom. Before leaving, she'd snuck into Grace's bathroom and applied a little of her expensive, sweet perfume. Why? She wasn't sure herself. But her usual aromatic formula of vanilla soap and deodorant suddenly didn't seem like enough.

Then, between copious amounts of tea and peanut butter on crackers, the two had gotten to work. Oswald had whipped out the mugshots and photos of everyone he'd worked with in the past. Apparently, he'd brought them along from Arkham 'just in case'. Later, during his rehabilitation, he'd used those pictures as a sort of list of people to reconnect with. Each person had refused to have anything to do with him.

"Not that I could blame them." Oswald had sneered. "Looking back at these past months makes me shudder with shame. I was a weak, fragile child. I wasn't even the shadow of who I used to be, nor the shell. I was nothing."

Ruby had placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his eyes to hers. Firmly, she'd said, "While I admit you're much stronger now, you weren't nothing to me."

Oswald had blinked, then smiled warmly. He'd taken the hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. Then, he'd introduced her to his former partners.

Victor Zsasz. Jim Gordon, to a very limited extent. Butch Gilzean. Edward Nygma. Tommy Bones. The list went on.

"Wow." Ruby had pushed some brown-blonde-hair out of her eyes. "You ran with a dangerous crowd, eh?"

"The most dangerous." Oswald had assured her. "That is why, with all this lost time, winning them back will be quite the challenge."

Ruby had suddenly brightened. An idea took root in her mind. Bursting forth branches and blossoming details. Grinning, she had asked if any of these people were currently in Blackgate Prison.

"Only Tommy Bones, from what I have heard." Oswald replied. "Why?"

Ruby had grinned. "You'll see."

Now, after a good night's rest, Ruby felt as ready as ever to begin her plan. She began to rise before stopping. Turned back to Oswald. Hesitated. Then, gently, she rested a hand on his forehead and pushed some hair back. Took a moment to stroke his face. Lightly, so as not to wake him. His skin was so smooth...

Oswald smiled faintly in his sleep. Ruby took that as her cue to let him rest some more. What time was it, anyway? She glanced at the small grandfather clock hiding in the corner. Her eyebrows went up. Well, whadoya know? It was half-past ten a.m. She hadn't slept in so late since childhood. If anyone got to sleep in, though, it was the king of Gotham. Smiling, Ruby took a moment to pull the blanket over Oswald's shoulders. Taking one last look at his face, she went off to do her duty.

An hour later, Ruby was showered, perfumed, and dressed. For the first time in eight years, she wore something other than her maid's uniform. The only person living here was Oswald now, and he didn't just feel like an employer anymore. But she had no clothes of her own: she only had copies of her maid uniform, and her pajamas. That was why, with a devious smile, Ruby sneaked into Sasha's bedroom. Trying not to vomit at all of the pink-themed merchandise, she began rummaging through the dead girl's closet.

Smirking, she raised her voice. Not loud enough to wake Oswald, but enough to amuse herself. "Oh, Miss Sasha!" She called. "Not only have I refrained from cooking you breakfast, but I'm also looking at your clothes! You'd better come here and put me in my place!"

Five seconds passed. Then, ten. Twenty.

Chuckling, Ruby examined each article of clothing with care. Most of these outfits were far too fancy for her taste. But in the end, she found something sort of decent. It was a shapeless jeans dress with a royal purple blouse beneath. "Huh." Ruby smirked. "Looks like someone used to be tubby." Making a mental note to donate everything here to charity, she changed into the clothes. Looking at her reflection caused a cringe. Ruby had an average figure: not round, not skinny, not curvy, not flat. Her measurements all bounced around in the middle. The only thing that really stood out about her was her above-average height. Ergo, the baggy clothes shaved a decade from her figure. But it was the best she could do for now.

Once she'd dumped everything of Sasha's in a cardboard box, Ruby strolled down to the kitchen. Expertly, she whipped up some breakfast for Oswald and hid it all beneath a lid. Leaving a note atop the plate, Ruby gathered her coat and left the mansion.

Jim Gordon sat at his office, surrounded by ringing phones and bustling cops. Seeing none of them. He kept his eyes down, drumming his notes with his pen. All of the facts swirled in his head like chunks of meat in a stew, and the conspiracy theories soured the mixture. And Barbara's return? It was the dregs at the bottom of the bowl.

He ran a hand over his shaved head, trying to think straight. How could she be out of Arkham? Who would let her out? Strange? Well, yes. maybe. But why? Was she just a ticking time bomb, ready to blow up and desolate everything around her? It wasn't like she could cause a bigger explosion than last time. To him, anyway. Jim sighed, rubbing his eyes. No. He couldn't allow himself to be led astray. If he started doing that, then he'd never solve the riddle. He'd promised Bruce Wayne long ago that he'd find and punish the man who'd made him an orphan. But this...this was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Who was 'the Philosopher', and why had he ordered the hit on Thomas and Martha Wayne?

A light tapping on his shoulder nearly sent him tumbling. He spun around in his chair. The intruder gasped and stepped back. Jim frowned, getting a good look at her. It was a young woman, maybe twenty-five or so, dressed in a black trench-coat. The buttons, he noticed right away, were mismatched as well as shiny. Fake jewels, all of them. That was the most remarkable thing about her. Jim saw that she was average in every sort of way: height, build, and skin color. Her hair was cut in a pixie style, and was very curly. It was a mixture of blonde, gray, and brown. Her face was round and chinless, but determined. "Um, sorry, can you help me?"

Jim turned so that he fully faced her. Rested his hands on his knees. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for the GCPD captain, Nathaniel Barnes." The young woman informed him. The name sent a chill running down Jim's back. He recalled the last time he'd ever see his former boss: wrapped up in a straight-jacket like some demented Christmas present, screaming, "GUILTY!" from dawn to dusk. Demented. Viscous. Broken beyond repair. "Uh, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Nathaniel Barnes no longer works here. He's...not currently fit to work."

"Oh." The young woman looked disappointed, but her expression quickly melted into an unwavering one. "Well, may I speak to the current captain?" Something about the way she asked rubbed him the wrong way.

Jim rose. The young woman raised her eyebrows as he towered above her. He placed his hands on his hips. "Why?" He asked firmly.

The young woman's eyebrows narrowed. "I don't think I'm obligated to speak until I've talked with the captain." She crossed her arms. "If you aren't going to help me, I'll look for him myself." Well, she had some fire to her. Like Barbara. Like Lee. Both names drove javelins in his heart. Jim stared at her. It was clear that she wasn't going to leave. Sighing, he dropped his hands from their perches. "Wait here." He slipped past her and ran up the stairs, swiftly avoiding obstacles of both metal and flesh. He passed the medical examination lab, where the stench of disinfectant turned his throat to Styrofoam. He walked past Edward Nygma's desk, now slathered in dust and angry graffiti. Finally, he reached the office door and gave it a knock. "What?" His partner yelled through a mouthful.

Jim opened the door and poked his head in. Empty Chinese takeaway boxes took up every corner of the room. The windows were draped in crusty blinds. Piles of paperwork rested on the desk. Harvey Bullock sat amidst of it all, eating at a rapid pace. His beard and shirt were flicked with crumbs. "What is it, Jim?" He asked, raising his chopsticks. "You know this is my morning break!"

"There's a girl here to see you." Jim said bluntly. "She's rock-headed, too. So if I were you, I'd clean myself up and open a window."

"You're not me, thank God." Harvey tossed down his chopsticks and rose. His stuffed belly threatened to burst through his shirt's buttons. He pulled the blinds up, wincing at the sudden increase of sunlight, and opened the window. "So," he stepped aside to avoid the cold blast, "who's the broad?" He looked at Jim with interest. "She cute?"

Jim shrugged. "Too young for my taste."

Harvey's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He crashed in his desk's chair again, searching for a toothpick. "What's her name? Why's she here so damn early?"

"She wouldn't say." Jim said. "And by the way, it's not early. It's almost noon for Christ's sake!"

"Ah," Harvey looked away, waving his arm. "Away with you."

Jim chuckled, removing his head from the door-frame. He'd barely turned around before jumping in surprise. The young woman was standing there, her face open and waiting. "Well?" She asked. "May I go in?"

Jim nodded, trying to recompose himself. "Yeah." He stepped aside. "Yeah, go on in."

"Thanks." The young woman was about to go in before stopping. Turned to look at him thoughtfully. Jim remained still, but he had to admit that there was something strange about those big eyes. Like they could see through his skin and examine everything inside. The young woman spotted his name tag. Gave a faint smile. "Jim Gordon?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, Miss...?"

The young woman paused. "Sinclair." She straightened. "You once saved a person who I've become...fond of. So, thank you." Jim frowned quizzically. He was about to ask for more details when Sinclair disappeared behind the closed door. Jim stared at it, confused as ever. Sighing, he began the tread back to his desk. He still had a nut to crack, after all.

Ruby eyed the man standing behind the desk. He looked nothing like she'd expected Barnes' successor to look like. She'd met Barnes once, many years ago. Her mother had been accused of sniffing cocaine, and Barnes himself had gone to their home to interrogate her. Ruby had watched from the top of the staircase, quiet as a mouse. She'd remembered him, how strong and no-nonsense his aura had been. He'd hated criminals. That much had been clear from the first word he'd spoken. Now, she'd been hoping to tap into that.

This guy looked like a battered, tired detective. He had a white beard and longish brown hair. His face was covered in premature wrinkles, and his clothes had more creases than your average paper boat. But in his eyes was a glimmer of intelligence, of wit, that gave Ruby hope.

"Captain." Ruby gave a slight bow. "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. But it's fairly urgent."

The guy began arranging the papers on his desk. "I'll be the judge of that, Miss...?"

"Sinclair." Ruby sighed. "Ruby Sinclair."

"Sinclair?" The guy looked up with interest. "Hey, isn't that the same surname as that supermodel?"

Ruby felt her skin crawl. "Yes." She forced out through gritted teeth.

"Cool!" The guy grinned. But even as he smiled, she saw him assessing her. His expression merely confirmed what she'd always known: even with her condition healed, she would never be the great beauty her mother had been. "Are you her relative or somethin'?"

"Daughter, in fact." Ruby felt kind of good via admitting that. Ripping away her parents' deceit one person at a time.

The guy - Harvey Bullock, as the name plate said - frowned in confusion. "Huh. That's funny. She's never mentioned a daught-"

"I would've marred her business." Ruby interrupted briskly. She sat down, smoothing out her coat. "Speaking of business, shall we get to ours?"

Harvey raised his bushy eyebrows before slowly following suit. "Okay." He tented his fingers across the desk. Eyeing her with interest. "So, Miss Sinclair, what can I do for ya?"

Ruby smiled, trying to ignore how tight her stomach's knots were. Well. This was it. Cold sweat broke out across her body as she dived in. "I need an...associate of mine removed from Blackgate and put under my supervision."

Harvey looked dubious at best. Not good. The knots grew tighter. "Who?"

Ruby took a deep breath. Plunged in deeper. "Tommy Bones."

"The crime boss?!" Harvey stared at her as though she'd gone mad. He jumped to his feet, already waving her off. "Not in a million years, girly!"

Ruby rose. "But-"

"I said no!" Harvey turned to face her. Gone was the funny, world-weary guy. Here was the captain. Fierce and strict. "In fact, I should cuff you for even wanting to break him out!"

"I don't want to break him out!" Ruby yelled over him. "I just need to talk with him!"

"Then go to the damn prison!" Harvey snapped. "Hell, that'll probably be the first visit he's had in months!"

"It won't work." Ruby shook her head. "It...it has to be at my house. I want him to see it. If he just hears my offer from the other side of the glass wall, he'll think I'm bluffing. He needs to see it and know what I'm selling."

"Well, whatever you're selling, I ain't buying." Harvey sat back down in his chair. All spent. Sighing, he stared down at his desk. Began fumbling through papers. "We're done here, Miss Sinclair."

"But-"

"Out." Harvey's tone was meant to end the conversation. Ruby stood there, shaking and beaten. She was already berating herself for being so naive. What, did she think she could really just stroll in here and ask for the criminal to be released? Albeit in her own house, with guards at the doors and guns aimed at his face? This guy was a cop. Of course he was going to say no. Ruby had only tried this because she'd known that a direct break-out would have been too risky, and would have in no way ensured Tommy Bones' long-term loyalty.

Ruby had failed. But she couldn't return home empty-handed. That was why she had to give it one last shot. Even if she would bitterly regret it afterwards.

"Captain..." Ruby inhaled deeply. "What if I bought your agreement?"

Harvey snorted as he looked up. "There's no way I-" Stopped dead in his tracks. Sparkling in the midday sunlight was a diamond necklace, casting rainbow flakes across the walls and floor. Hanging from between Ruby's index finger and thumb, it was easily a foot long and thick with jewels. Diamonds of blue, green, orange, red, and yellow shimmered brilliantly like a mountain spring. He stared at it with a dropped jaw.

Ruby smiled sadly. "Nice isn't it? This is a very old necklace. It took me over a yearof saving to finally be able to buy it, and I'm talking about the last decade. It was sold to me at $44,000."

Harvey's jaw dropped even lower.

"It's probably worth more now." Ruby said thoughtfully, holding it up for inspection. "Any jeweler worth his money could buy this from you for an even higher sum. That could help run things a bit more smoothly around here: taxes, wages, better coffee, medical equiptment, guns..." She began to retract it. "But if you're not interested..."

"No!" Harvey held his hand up. "No, no! Uh..." He gave a weak smile. "Let's work something out." He pointed a finger at her. "I'm tellin' ya right now, you won't be taking Bones anywhere without an entourage."

Ruby smiled sadly. When she dropped the necklace into Harvey's waiting palm, it felt like someone had placed a stone in her heart. "Fine by me."

Oswald woke to the sound of police sirens and honking horns. Icy-blue eyes flew open in alarm. His heart caught in his throat. The Penguin scrambled out of bed - which wasn't a bed at all but the tea room's sofa - and fell face-first on the carpet. The noises didn't stop. In face, the joining of voices only made them louder. Cursing, Oswald hoisted himself up via the curtains. His leg complained every step of the way, sending bolts of electricity running up his body. Cringing, Oswald finally stood and yanked the curtains aside. His brow furrowed with confusion.

Police cars were crowded in his front yard, their red and blue lights flashing. What appeared to be a prison van was trying to park. The driver had his head out and was arguing visciously with some cops. Other policemen were slowly opening the van's doors. Pulling at something's chains. When that something emerged into daylight, Oswald gasped. It was none other than one of the most prominent crime bosses in Gotham's underworld. Tommy Bones. The guy had gotten fatter since the last time Oswald had seen him, and orange was definitely not his color. He was staring at the mansion with a mixture of greed and shock.

"What in the world...?" Oswald leaned closer to the glass, trying to make sense of it all...

...when the door burst open. He spun around to see Ruby. Tearstains halved her cheeks. But there was a tired smile on her face. Oswald felt warmed by the sight of it. He reached out to her without thinking about it. Ruby closed the space between them. Grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Ruby," he began, "what's going on?"

Ruby smiled. "Remember the list of former allies we went over last night?"

Oswald did. Those faces had been swimming in his head for most of the night. "Yes. Why is one of them chained up like a boar in my front yard?"

"I pulled some strings and brought him here." Ruby's hand traced her collarbone. "It came at a high price." Her hand dropped and rested on Oswald's shoulder. "But this'll be worth it."

Oswald frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, dear. But I'm still not following."

Ruby grinned. "I had Tommy Bones brought here specifically for you to woo him back into your services!"

Oswald blinked, looking vaguely unimpressed. "Woo." He repeated flatly.

"Woo!" Ruby echoed. "Once he sees this opulent mansion, with you dressed as its lord, he'll be drooling over the possibilities. The wages he could receive, the connections he might get..." She trailed off. "Well, he'll definitely get out of prison. And we, in turn, will get his and his gang's support. Once other gangs see him at our heed and call, they'll come flocking." She grinned. "From there, it'll be easy pickings."

Oswald stared at her, speechless. His eyes were gleaming. "Ruby, I..." He shook his head, grinning in wonder. "I don't know what to say." He reached out and pushed a lock out of her eyes. The close contact set fire to Ruby's cheeks. She did her best to hide it. She caught his hand and squeezed it. "You don't have to say anything yet. Right now, you should focus on getting ready." With reluctance she let go of his hand and stepped back. "I'll distact them with tea and brunch. That should buy enough time, right?"

"Absolutely." Oswald nodded, grinning deviously. "It will soon be others serving you, not vice versa."

Ruby shrugged. "I actually like this job." A small, humorless laugh. "It's the one thing I'm good at."

"I beg to differ." Oswald caught her hand and gave the knuckles a gentle kiss. Ruby thought she'd faint on the spot. Instead, she ran out of the room. Oswald watched her go before hobbling out himself.