Chapter 21
In nature, only the strong survive. Gotham had the same law. True, strength could also be valued by social status and/or money. That was why Gotham had started under the rule of five aristocratic families. This was also why the Waynes were still the top dogs around here. But muscle and courage never dropped out of fashion - especially for those living on the other side of the law.
Butch Gilzean was strong, and that was why he had survived. He was sure that Tabitha had pulled through for the same reason.
Tabitha. That name alone was a sugared wound in his chest.
She'd been out of the hospital for a while now, and hadn't even called him. He'd learned about her return via rumor, and he'd had some of his boys spy on the new spot Barbara Kean had bought. Sure enough, the guy had come back with photos of Tabitha. Wearing outfits that drove him crazy. Drinking martinis. Kissing and cuddling Barbara. Butch had wanted to burn them. They all showed just how happy she was without him.
Butch rested his head against the window's grimy glass. The bus chugged onward, spitting out reeking fumes. Every now and then it lurched like it had the hiccups. Oh, yes. This was Butch's main form of travelling now. Ever since the Penguin had pecked his hand off, driving had become a major no-no. Thanks again, boss. Remind me why I let you live again? Oh, right. Because I'm a moron.
The large man sighed. At least Penguin had sort of made up for what he'd done. He and his Plain Jane had made Tabitha's attacker pay, and now he had a job with a rising star. Hopefully, that star wouldn't be falling anytime soon. Otherwise, it would put a big, fat dent in Butch's reputation. What kind of respect could he get if he ended up working for a failure?
Another violent bounce, credited to a hole in the road. Butch's stomach collided with his lungs. Its contents swished about, promising disturbances. Grimacing, he stared out the window. Seeking distraction.
And found none. Gotham was the same as always. The sky was like a shredded mass of wet newspaper, varying in thickness and shades of gray. The decaying buildings looked like piles of dinosaur bones. Trash and filthy rainwater cluttered the gutters. Rats feasted in and around the garbage bins. People bustled about the sidewalk, pushing and shoving to get to work on time. In the time it took Butch to count to thirty, a good five purse-snatchings unfolded. No one, not even the cruising-by cops, lifted a finger to help the screaming ladies.
Home.
With every moment that passed, the city fell away like drandruff, and with it, Butch's already fading ease. Trees began sprouting up as if by magic. Great, silent sentinels. Some were bone-white. Others were dark with filth. Many were so furred with ivy that distinguishing them was impossible. More wildlife began to appear. Racoons. Squirrels. For a fleeting second, Butch saw a deer.
God, he hated the countryside. What rich people saw in living out in the middle of nowhere like hermits, he would never know. He just knew that, even once he reached his stop, he'd still have half a mile's hike to go. Yippee.
As if on cue, the bus shuddered to a halt. The doors slowly opened, screeching like damned souls. Butch snapped out of the trance of boredom that he'd put himself in. Wiped the drool from his dimpled chin. Looked around. Yep. Last one as always. Sighing, he saluted the driver with his metal hand before stomping off the bus. The contraption veered off the second he left it, encasing him in a thick cloud of toxins. Butch coughed and hacked. Slid his shirt's collar over the lower half of his face. But the poisonous gas still stung his eyes like angry wasps. Butch gritted his teeth. Pressed onward. Hoping that the week's paycheque would be worth all this.
The Sirens was quiet for the first time in days.
For the past few weeks, the place had been almost consistently filled with construction guys, plummers, electricians, and so on. Barbara would tell them what to do, and add that it would get ugly if they didn't do the job exactly as she wanted. Most workers were smart enough to obey without question. She was under the Penguin's umbrella, after all. But just to be certain that their club would be nothing short of perfect, Tabitha spent the days prowling amongst the men like a leopard. Sleek, silent, and deadly. More than once she'd sent workers off with injuries varying from sprained wrists to bleeding throats.
It always filled Tabitha with a savage glee, causing others pain. Always. Ever since she was a child. She'd trip the other little girls and laugh as their skinned knees wept blood, as their faces grew puffy and red. She would push teachers down the stairs when they didn't give her the A's that she had deserved. She had pulled the wings off flies and impale beetles with rusty nails. But her animal victims never got bigger than that. Tabitha didn't mind spilling blood and tearing flesh, but only to those that deserved it. Those who pissed her off or disgusted her. Cute little puppies, kittens, and bunnies never did either. In fact, she'd grown up with all three of those pets.
Yes. While Tabitha would never reveal it to anyone, she quite liked animals.
Though recently, the penguin had been scratched off her list forever.
In the almost serene silence, Tabitha worked. She continued oiling her whip, running her dark hands over the worn leather. She fantasized wrapping it around that skinny, pasty throat. Squeezing until eyes bulged, the tongue lolled out like a dog's, and the horrid gasps abruptly ended. It filled her with tainted delight. Tainted, because it seemed unlikely that she could perform this delicious deed in the near future. Now that Barbara had decided to drag that fancy-clothed fruitcake into their business, she may never get to.
Tabitha rubbed her temples. But even as she did, the thoughts refused to budge.
She and Barbara had argued about it for weeks, even before the incident with...with...
Well. Anyway. Neither woman could understand the perspective of the other. This was new. Typically, they could practically read each other's thoughts, and rarely had their opinions strayed far apart. They were usually two peas in a rotten pod, which was exactly why they had decided to open a business together. They were two strays trying to build a home.
In order to do that, Barbara had claimed that they needed insurance. A crucifix to ward off the blood-sucking gangsters that would no doubt try to barge in and take over. Tabitha had insisted that whomever walked in would quickly regret it. But Barbara had said that Tabitha's ferocity, while amazing, wasn't quite enough. They needed something big. A name that no one would cross. Tabitha had angrily yelled that she would rather die than work with the man who killed her brother. Barbara had answered, with the same amount of rage, that if they didn't ask Penguin for help, then Tabitha may very well get her wish.
They'd yelled. Called each other awful names. Thrown plates and tiles at each other. At one point, both had done something that they couldn't take back, no matter how much they kissed and hugged later. In her anger Tabitha had taken the sweater that Barbara had made for her during the hospital. She'd taken a pair of scissors and shredded the wool garment before Barbara's horrified eyes. In response, Barbara had taken a framed photo of them together and thrown it in the fireplace.
The two women hadn't spoken to each other for days afterward. They'd gone on with their daily duties, living under the same roof and eating together, but never spoke more than five words each day. It had been torture. Then, bit by bit, the ice thawed and the hatred dissolved. Tabitha had felt like she'd woken up from a deep nightmare. Never wanting to feel that way again.
Thus, Penguin was back in their social circles. Tabitha hated it. But if it meant keeping Barbara, then she'd hate in silence.
As if on cue, the bedroom door opened. Tabitha glanced up and felt the air rush out of her lungs. Barbara was striding out, wearing a cheetah-print outfit that hugged all the right places. Black stockings and high heels accenuated her slender, nimble legs. Her shoulder-long blonde hair was straight and clean, like a golden waterfall. Her make-up was there, but barely. She looked like a true businesswoman of the underworld. Tabitha swallowed, keeping her expression neutral. "Hey, babes." She smiled. "Going out?"
Barbara sighed. Checked her reflection on a gold-framed mirror. "Yeah. I gotta go to the GCPD and get Pengy's little info nuggets. Just to make sure he appreciates it, I'll add extra ketchup."
Tabitha scoffed. "Yeah. I think he wants some data on Arkham or something?"
"You got it." Barbara collected her purse. "He wants to kick Strange's ass." She faced Tabitha and shrugged. To them, murder was as inconsequential as ordering the wrong type of pizza. "Can't say that I blame him. When you like to play God, well, the Devil's minions will bite you hard."
Tabitha smirked. "Preach it."
Barbara blew Tabitha a kiss. "I'd love to stay and chat, honey," she said, "but I got some clues to find and, well, a penguin to feed." She chuckled as she said that. Good sign. Tabitha put down her whip for a moment. Leaning forward on the divan, she rested her elbows on her knees. Leather on leather. "What're you hatching?"
"Moi?" Barbara put on a cruel mockery of innocence on her face. It dropped like a veil just as quickly. "Just doing what Penguin asked me, baby. After I'll have helped him out, Penguin will trust me." She wiggled her brows. "And he may, in time, slip up and reveal some deep, dark secret."
Tabitha slowly smiled, finally understanding her friend's reasoning. Barbara had never been interested in merely climbing up the social ladder. No. She planned on owning the ladder.
Fine. So did Tabitha.
Forget the flippin' paycheque. What awaited him in the saloon was better than a million bucks, a cupcake, and a can of coke all in one. The TV was still on, for starters. Some shampoo commercial was playing, filled with ladies flipping their shining manes about. The remote was lying on its side on the Persian carpet. A ceramic bowl sitting on the coffee table was empty save for a few burnt corn kernels. But best of all was the plush, purple divan positioned in front of the television. A handmade quilt (Butch recognized it because his own grandma still made those, even now when her mind floated between eras) was draped over the Penguin and Plain Jane. They had fallen asleep in a sitting position. Their heads leaned into each other so closely that every time Penguin exhaled, it ruffled Plain Jane's hair.
Butch smirked, wishing that Tabitha were here to witness such a hilarious sight. But then, he realized that he'd gotten the short straw. The Penguin had fallen asleep beside someone, no matter how boring-looking she was. Butch hadn't, and it hurt to admit it.
Rather than dawdle in his own self-pity, Butch cleared his throat. Nothing. He did it again, this time raising the volume a bit. Ruby's eyelids fluttered. Slowly opened. Dark blue eyes, large and round, widened even more when they saw this unexpected guest. Butch blinked. Ruby was in front of him, arms crossed. The large man frowned in confusion. Glanced back at the sofa. There was an empty space where Ruby had been just a jiffy ago. He rubbed his temples. Not enough coffee, that's it. His senses would pick up the pace soon enough. Ruby crossed her arms. The coldness in her eyes and the tightness in her jaw was more than a little unsettling. "What?" She hissed.
Butch tapped his finger on his watch. "Ten-thirty, doll. The boss told me to be here by that time. 'Sides, Kean is on her way."
Ruby's eyebrows flew up. "Her? Here?" She groaned, pinching her nose's base. "Splendid." She glanced back at Oswald. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. So...vulnerable. Ruby felt a wave of tender protection fill her like wine in a chalice. Glaring back at Butch, she jerked her chin towards the kitchen. "Go on, I'll be there in a moment."
Butch shrugged. Trudged away. Once he'd left her sight, Ruby felt free to go near Oswald's face. She could never get so close if he were awake. Ah, the shrouding embrace of Morpheus be blessed. Ruby watched him, enjoying these spare few seconds. His face was long and angular. He had hollow cheeks no matter how many meals she put into him. His skin was white as polished ivory. For the first time, Ruby noticed a faint spray of freckles huddled upon his nose. Eleven, she counted. His eyelashes were long and dark. His hair was as soft as feathers, his lips thin rosebuds. Ruby's heart fluttered like a caged canary. Restraining her movements, she gently rocked his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered. Opened. His irises looked like Arctic ice in the sunlight. Ruby straightened faster than one could blink, smiling sheepishly. She cupped her elbow from behind her back. Smiled as she watched him reemerge into the real world. When his eyes rested on her, Oswald gave a tiny smile. "Good morning."
The way he said it sent shivers down her spine. Trying to hide her blush, Ruby grinned. "Good morning to you." She sighed, jerking her thumb towards the hall. "The Iron Giant just showed up."
"Butch?" Oswald stared at her before glancing at the clock. When he saw the time he closed his eyes, fell back, and groaned. Ruby offered him her hand. Watching her trustingly, he took it. She hoisted him up. Brushed him off once he was standing. "Go on, get ready. I'll feed the beast."
Oswald's eyes shone with gratitude. They both knew that a king couldn't be seen in such a human way by his subjects. A king had to be seen by his allies the same way as his enemies: untouchable, perfect, and beyond their weapons. Oswald smiled. "Thank you. And please ensure that he doesn't eat all the ham again."
Ruby winked. "On it." She was about to leave when Oswald's soft voice called, "And..."
She turned around. At the ready. Oswald smiled softly at her. Rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you for last night. I needed a distraction."
Ruby blinked. Smiled as her heart took flight. Saluted him. "Of course, Oz. See you soon." She left him wide-eyed. Smiling with a mixture of flattery and embarressment. No one had ever called him 'Oz' before...and meant it.
Oswald grinned all the way up the stairs.
Ruby was quick to shower and change. As always, her maid's uniform was excellent camouflage. White blouse. Black cardigan. Black skirt. Stockings. And, just for fun, onyx earrings and black diamond rings. Ruby examined herself in the mirror. Still the same as always. Yet...different.
She'd called him 'Oz'. And slept in the same space as him twice. Different, indeed. Ruby felt less...plain. Invisible.
A noise erupted from the kitchen. The fridge door opening, then closing. A moment later, there was swearing. Ruby sighed, "Oswald, please hurry up..."
The kitchen was just two staircases away, and the finish line was hardly a reward. Butch was hovering over the sink, soaking his tongue in the faucet's flow. Ruby placed a hand on her hip. "The coffee not to your liking?"
The water flow dried up. Butch swung around, a grimace on his round face. A sense of security swept over him as he took in her attire. She wasn't the Penguin's pillow buddy anymore. She was just the maid. "Nah. The coffee's fine, but the bacon's God-awful." Indigo eyes flitted to the discarded plate on the counter. Anger flashed through her. "That was my bacon, you glutton!" She ran to the tiled counter. Grimaced at the greasy, congealed food. A white, foamy glob of saliva was spread across the strips like a cloud. "Ew." With a heavy heart she dumped the bacon into the sink. Pushed a button and listened to the garbage disposal shred it up. Butch grimaced as he watched the food vanish. "What kind of bacon do you eat?"
Ruby didn't look at him. Started washing the dish. "The tofu kind." She replied tersely.
Butch scoffed as though she'd just told him that she regularly feasted on earthworms. "Why the hell would you wanna do that? Normal bacon tastes delicious."
"It's also the fried flesh of a slaughtered animal." Ruby's words were like swords. Finished with the dish, she began tidying up the kitchen. Never once looking at him. Butch stared at her for a few minutes like he was trying to see through her. Ruby pretended not to notice as she watered the plants aligning the windowsill, swabbed the table, and began cleaning the stoves.
"Uh, Ruby?" He said her name like he wasn't sure how to pronounce it.
"Yes?" Her tone was as clipped as a hedge. She still wasn't looking at him.
"Why don't you eat meat?" He asked bluntly.
"Three reasons." Ruby held up the correct number of fingers. "One: meat tastes disgusting. Two: I physically feel better. And three: I'd rather not be responsible for the killing of animals that didn't do anything to me."
"But you need meat." Butch argued.
"Well, I've been a vegetarian since I was thirteen. Exactly half of my life." Ruby smirked sourly at him. "So, yeah, I don't think I need it."
Butch scoffed. "You're probably all weak and stuff."
Ruby dropped the spray and the sponge. Turned around and laid her hand on the counter. "Oh, yeah?"
Butch nodded.
Ruby clapped. "Woo!" She dropped on her toes and hands. "Let's go!" In a second she was performing push-ups with the ease one cultivates in drinking a glass of water. Butch watched her push, counting to five, then ten, telling himself that she'd drop. She didn't. Reaching twenty in record time.
Butch felt the color rise in his cheeks. He crossed his beefy arms across his barrel of a chest. "You're not proving anything." He informed her drily.
"Oh, yes?" Ruby said while still pushing. "Come push with me, then!"
Butch scoffed to hide his embarressment. "I won't sink down to your level." Ruby laughed as she jumped to her feet again, nimble as a monkey. Smirked at Butch through the thick curls covering her eyes. She pushed them away in a flourish gesture. "Checkmate."
The doorframe cleared its throat. Both heads turned to see Barbara Kean leaning against it like some pop singer in a music video. "Good morning, babies. How's playtime coming along?"
Ah, sass. Well, Ruby could sass right back. "Fine." She brushed off her blouse. "Just showing Butch the benefits of not consuming animal carcasses." Butch stabbed her with his eyes. She took the blow with a smirk. Barbara eyed Ruby for a moment, seemingly confused. When she'd first met this Plain Jane, she'd been so meek and quiet, speaking to Barbara's toes rather than her face. Now, though...
Barbara shook it off. Thinking it made it real. She flashed a smile that could melt icecaps. "How sweet. So, where's our little Pengy?"
"Right here." Everyone twisted their heads to see Oswald. Ruby's throat dried like the desert. He looked...well, amazing. Robed entirely in royal purple, he stood with a grace that almost wasn't human. His hair was styled into perfect, spiked arches. His tie was well-pressed, and a broach of a diamond sword sat over his heart. Every inch of him was clean, perfumed, and divine. Ruby looked away to hide her blush. Barbara, on the other hand, smiled knowingly. "Hello, Ozzy."
Oswald winced slightly. That pet name sounded better from another pair of lips. Nevertheless he approached her. They exchanged air kisses. "Darling," He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, "you look like half a model and half like a goddess."
"I'm sure you know all about that sort of thing." Barbara's eyes hungrily examined his elegant outfit. She turned to Ruby. "Hey, cleaning lady! You iron well!" Ruby didn't answer. Just watched her. Hands balled up at her side. Barbara turned back to Oswald, who was watching her with something near irritated. "Why won't she answer me?"
Oswald cleared his throat. "She is probably just tired."
"Ah," Barbara sighed in faux amazement, "how are you so patient with her? I'm sure there's better help elsewhere."
"Myself," Oswald said curtly, "I quite like Miss Sinclair's services. Now, onto your task."
"Oh, consider it done." Barbara winked. "I'll be all over those cops like mud on a pig."
"Mind if I come?" Both Barbara and Oswald turned, shocked, to Ruby. She still looked battered...but still standing. And she was thinking. Barbara...there was something off about her. Ruby wasn't great with people, she knew, but every time she looked at the blonde she felt uneasy. That was why she couldn't allow her to go on this small mission alone. She wanted to make sure they got the truth. All of this bubbled behind a calm mask of a face. Barbara narrowed her eyes, but smiled. "Of course! Let's hit the mall afterward! You can carry my bags."
Ruby snorted, as if to say, Dream on. Ignoring her, Barbara spun on her high heels and began to march out. "Come on, then, maid! Time is money!" Ruby followed, giving Oswald a reassuring look as she did. Oswald replied with his eyes, pleading her to be careful. Ruby nodded faintly.
A moment later, both women were gone. Oswald sighed. Lurched forward and rested his hands on the table. Butch didn't move. He didn't like being alone with this man. The last time he had, he had paid for that mistake.
"Butch," Oswald's voice was like broken glass, "if Ruby does not return home within a two-hour time frame, go looking for her. If needed, get the information out of Miss Kean."
Butch nodded.