Chapter 41

When Ruby awoke, the room was bathed in lavender. Her heart, which had been slow as a snail a moment before, began to leap. Jumping out of the sheets' warm embrace, she got to work fixing up the room. In the time it takes the average person to bathe, Ruby made the bed, dusted the bookshelves, hung the carpets outside and beat them, and cleaned the windows. By that time, the last few rays had darkened to purple. With a yelp Ruby turned into a puddle. It glided under the door, trickling across the hallway like paint on an upturned canvas. Climbing up the steps that led to the attic, the puddle reformed one atom at a time. By the time it reached the door, it was Ruby's semi-solid hand that turned the doorknob.

Stopping only for a quick, cold shower that cleared the cobwebs from her head, Ruby stripped and changed into an evening classic: a baggy, grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants two sizes too large. Shaking her head like a hound, she giggled at the way her damp, short curls stood erect. Running a hand through them, Ruby eyed the clock. Six thirty. Oswald was probably sipping his early evening wine by now. Good. That meant that she could simply whip out one of the plucked, stuffed roosters she'd been keeping in the freezer. That would only take about half an hour to defrost, and another hour to cook in the oven. Already adding mashed sweet potatoes and asparagus to the mix, Ruby scoured through her jewelry box for something that fit her mood. At last, she settled on a necklace of her own making. Made from a single large piece of bismuth and some barb wire, it depicted a thin braid intertwining with sections of the rainbow-hued stone. Grinning, she tied it securely around her neck, letting it rest coldly on her collarbone.

Satisfied, she melted again. Slipping between the floorboards, she dripped down like melting wax. One floor, two floors, three, four, five. When at last her puddled form splashed against the kitchen's black-and-white tiles, she reformed with a yawn. Stretching like an acrobat about to form a feat, she lit up the kitchen with a flick of her wrist.

Oswald was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cheese toasty and a tall glass of red wine sitting near him. Stripped of his tie, jacket, and well-polished shoes, he looked almost like a college kid. Hard to believe that he was actually five years older than her.

He'd already looked pleasantly deep in thought. But when their eyes met, he lit up like a star. Ruby felt herself do the same. "Oz!" She ran to give him a hug. He gladly accepted...until she lifted him off the ground with a laugh. He yelped as she cuddled him like a teddy bear, his bare feet kicking the empty air. "Ruby!" He patted her shoulder urgently. "Put. Me. Down. Please!"

"Oh, sorry!" Ruby was quick to set him down again. He gasped and heaved as though he'd just run a marathon. Clamping her shoulder with a trembling hand, he grinned up at her. "My, my. You have the strength of a bear."

"Nah," Ruby shrugged. "More like that of a heavy-lifter." She grinned. "Another up-side of having someone play with your genes." Crossing her arms, she looked at her friend. "Now, let's get to the itty-gritty: what do you want to eat?"

"Oh!" Oswald laughed breathily. He gestured to the homely meal on the counter. "Thank you, but I'm all set."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Even someone on a diet wouldn't eat that little."

Oswald sighed playfully. "Fine. How about some mashed potatoes? I'd like some grits mixed in mine."

Ruby saluted him. "You got it." Quick to collect the ingredients from the fridge, she lay them on the cutting board. "So, how'd the meeting go? Were the press as hungry for scoops as always?"

"Ravenous." Oswald confirmed from inside his goblet. "And once I confronted Aubrey James, they were flocking to me like pigeons over spilled popcorn."

Ruby raised her eyebrows at him. Her four arms halted in the process of peeling and chopping potatoes. "You did what?"

Oswald grinned, revealing his dimples. "I walked up to him whilst he was making a speech and verbally disemboweled him before the crowd. Indeed, they were cheering my name."

Ruby's eyebrows threatened to fly off her round, chinless face. "Holy..." She let out a laugh. Shook her head. "You know how many connections that jackass has? He's got the unions, the courts, legal experts, and the GCPD at his beck and call. You piss him off enough, and he might be tempted to unmask one of your businesses and send you to jail."

"Which is why all I have to do is win the election." Oswald pointed out. "Then, I'll have the power necessary to wipe that grin off his smarmy face."

Ruby chuckled. Two of her hands heated up a saucepan while the other two dropped the potatoe pieces inside. "I hope I'll be there to see it."

"Oh, definitely." Oswald grinned. "You, my dear, will be there every step of the way. If you want." He added quickly.

Ruby blinked. Then, slowly began to grin. "Oh, my..." She let out a loud laugh. Clapped with both pairs of hands. "Yes! Of course! Whatever you have to do, I'll help!" Dropping them, she reabsorbed the lower set of arms. "But I'm afraid I can't help you on where to start or who to call. I can find a few extra hands to spread the word and hand out fliers, but not much else."

Oswald clapped. "Excellent start! But let us not dwell on the tasks tonight. Instead, let us savor the victory." He held up his chalice. Ruby quickly mimicked his gesture with a can of coconut water. "Cheers." They drank.

Half an hour later, they were eating at the dining table where Grace had had her last supper. Ruby listened with wide, attentive eyes as Oswald described his day. He spoke of Aubrey James' speech, of how wooden and robotic it had been, until Oswald had crashed the party. He spoke of his own animated discussion, and how he'd gotten the crowd on his side within minutes. He was so excited and joyful, like a kid back from summer camp. Ruby barely spoke, instead enjoying how Oswald's eyes twinkled, how his cheeks grew rosy with anticipation, how his entire aura glowed like firefly. She could have watched him all night.

Until Oswald mentioned the word 'abominations'.

Ruby's spoonful of mashed potatoes stopped halfway to her mouth. Indigo eyes flitted up. "Come again?"

For the first time that evening, Oswald looked uncomfortable. "Yes. I...may have used that word to describe Strange's experiments."

The silver spoon clattered against the dish. Ruby could feel thorns protruding from her heart. "Were you thinking of me when you did that?"

"Of course not." Oswald quickly held up a hand as Ruby opened her mouth. "I only spouted that nonsense because that was what the voters will want to hear. They don't understand that the experiments are merely people who've been wronged. They will see them as mere boogeymen to be cast out. If I can harness that fear and render it a tool-"

"Then they'll be even more willing to vote for you." Ruby finished even as her eyes grew glassy. "Because they'll see you as a savior." She shook her head. "Oz...I won't lie. You're my best friend."

"And you are mine." Oswald said quickly.

"You know I'd never get in the way of your dreams, even if I don't always agree with them." Ruby went on. "But this...this hurt. Even if it was just a tact to get the public on your side..." She reached up to wipe her eyes before the tears could fall. "I can't help thinking that some part of you's still afraid."

"No!" Oswald jumped to his feet. His hands clutched Ruby's. Both were trembling. He looked directly into her eyes. "Ruby, I swear it. You are one of my greatest treasures."

Ruby's breath died in her throat. She hiccuped. "What?"

"Yes." Oswald continued. "Your friendship and affection is worth more to me than a thousand pieces of gold. I would never risk losing it." One of his hands left hers. Reached up and wiped Ruby's cheek dry. "I am deeply sorry if this tactic is so painful for you, but it's a winning card. Tossing it aside may tip the scale in James' favor." His hand rested on her cheek, cupping it gently. "But I swear to you, whenever you will hear me speak of this issue, know that every word comes from a script. The only creatures that I see as monsters are Fish Mooney and the ones that aid her, regardless of whether Strange played God with their genetic make-up." He paused. Inhaled. "Also...I want to task you with getting every experiment out of Gotham."

Ruby blinked. "But I tried! I got two-thirds of them out, but the rest just won't leave. Even that guy that was on the news, Mr. Freeze...stubborn as a mule."

"Then offer him the stick lest the carrot should fail." Oswald traced Ruby's cheekbone with his thumb. "In this manner, we shall both benefit. The public will see fewer sightings of the experiments, and thus give me credentiality, and you will rest knowing that you helped your fellow misunderstood."

Ruby stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Okay."

Oswald released the breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding.

"I'll do everything that I can." Ruby hesitated, then took a step back. Oswald was confused until he saw her walk around the table and step into his arms. He was quick to embrace her. He felt his shoulder quickly growing damp from her tears. He stroked her back as she wept silently. They stayed like that for a while. At last, Ruby shifted so that her lips were inches from Oswald's ear. "Promise me that it'll be just an act. Please."

Oswald hugged her tightly. "It will be no different from an actor reciting Shakespeare."

Ruby sighed shakily. Then, slowly, placed her hands on his shoulder blades. Like her trust and hope, the touch was shy but nevertheless present.

A week passed.

Oswald's support group grew with each speech he gave. Either Butch or Gabe accompanied him each time, ready to shield him from wicked intent. A couple of people attempted to put a bullet in Oswald's brain. It didn't take long for Oswald to return the favor. In order to increase his popularity, he hired a professional hacker to both create a fan-page about Oswald and over a hundred fake accounts with which he dragged Aubrey James' name in the mud. Oswald worked as diligently as ever, demanding respect and due payment from his subservients. But, at Ruby's suggestion, he began to venture out in Gotham's more respectable areas as well. With a bit of luck, this would improve the people's opinion of him and gradually pave the way for success. Of course, charity donations and volunteers in the soup kitchen would help too, but that would come later. When the public would actually begin believing in him.

Meanwhile, Ruby worked twice as diligently as before in tracking down those misunderstood and begging them to desert Gotham. Sometimes, the begging worked. Other times, she'd threatened to kill them before the scared citizens did. With a heavy heart, she sold a few of her gems to finance the creatures' departure. A yellow diamond, rare as it was beautiful, that she had wanted to give to Barbara Kean as a gesture of forgiveness. A morganite necklace which had been the first piece of jewelry bought with her own money. A pair of opal earrings that the Master's aunt had given to her, no longer interested in them. Ruby knew that, even when she'd buy new jewels, she would miss those that had been replaced.

Despite her efforts, Ruby could not find half a dozen or so former Indian Hill residents. None of whom she'd met, but had only learned about via hacking Arkham's confidential files. The more she read, the greater she feared. One was a man who was a 'fountain of youth in reverse'. A woman with the jaws of a piranah. A crocodile-skinned man. All of these were beginning to sound familiar. Not because she had ever encountered them, but because she'd seen them from a distance.

The night that she had pulled Ivy out of her watery grave.

Ruby printed photos of those missing, alongside Fish Mooney's picture, and stapled them all over the city. Beneath each image was a million-dollar reward to whomever could bring them to Oswald Cobblepot, as well as the Van Dahl mansion's address and Ruby's phone number. Days passed, each one as barren as a desert.

In an attempt to distract herself, she aided Oswald's plan to become mayor. After scouring the library for books on leadership, and taking enough notes to fill an orchestra, she began in the small fields: namely, creating 'vote for Cobblepot' pins and posters. She even had him comb his hair back, similar to the style he'd kept during his time brainwashed, and had dozens of photos posted on the Internet. Oswald, in the meantime, gave many speeches, both officially and on the sidewalk. He described the city's problems, and how he intended to fix them. Each discussion was concluded in an explosion of enthusiasm. Many even threw spare change at him, in spite of his protests. More than once, Ruby used those coins to buy them both a coffee afterwards. Bit by bit, the public's view of Oswald became more gray than pitch-black. But there was something missing, and they both knew it.

One night, they sat in the amethyst cave with a series of photographs, fliers, and phone books lying between them. Candles sat in cracked, faded saucers that were slowly filling with warm wax. The gems among the walls glittered in the light like fairy wings.

Oswald tapped his pencil against his teeth. Icy-blue eyes ventured over the seas of ink and paper, searching in vain. "Hmm...we must concentrate on the mayors of Gotham's past. What brought them success? What won the public's adoration? What carved their names in history?"

Ruby chuckled through her mouthful of apple. "Well, the first one's easy: money. Since you're good in that field, I'd say at least one of those goals has been met."

Oswald gave her a look. "Oh, come now. I hardly plan on burning money at this singular shrine."

Ruby winked. "You won't have to." Swallowing her apple, she gestured at the walls. Crooked and uneven, they shimmered brilliantly with deep purple gems. So coated were they in the precious crystal that the normal rock beneath them was entirely invisible. The amethysts, all stuck together like crops of mushrooms, came in every shape and size. A few were no larger than peach pits. Others were as big as Oswald's fist. Ruby dropped her hands. "Amethysts may not be on the top of every jeweller's list, but they're still worth a lot. Give away a few chunks to the right people, and we'll definitely be on the winning streak."

Oswald watched her worriedly. "Are you certain? I mean, this is your hideout. Do you really want to tarnish it?"

"Don't worry about it." Ruby lightly punched his arm. "If these jewels had feelings, they'd be furious at the prospect of never being used. And now, I know they'll be used awesomely."

Oswald searched his friend's face. Looking for incertainty masked by bravado. When he found only the desire to help, he found himself nodding. "Very well. But I won't have Gabe or Butch come trampling in here with their elephant's feet. You go ahead and mine whatever gems you deem valueable."

Ruby's entire face lit up. "Really?"

Oswald nodded. "Do you require any tools?"

Ruby shook her head. "Don't worry. All I really need is a rock hammer and a magnifying glass. I've got ten of the former and the latter can be used with this." She held up her Coca Cola bottle. Oswald blinked, then laughed. "Very well. You're hired."

There was a moment's silence before Oswald asked how Ruby's Indian Hill evacuation was going. Her look of displeasure made him regret posing the question. She played with her bottle, staring at the last few drops in the bottom. "Nothing. I tried, I really did, but so far, no dice."

Oswald's hand found hers. It was cool and soft, like the other side of the pillow. "You cannot blame yourself if misfortune befalls them, do you understand? You cannot offer a life preserver to a man who willingly drowns."

Ruby nodded sadly as she squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I know. But it's still hard not to blame myself." Taking a breath, she shook her head to clear it. "And I came up empty with Fish, too. She's keeping well-hidden. But sooner or later, she'll make a false move."

Oswald bit his lip. A tiny drop of blood blossomed on the pink flesh. "That false move will be her last."

"Caution." Ruby held up an index finger. "You can't let yourself go wild. The public's just starting to give you a chance. If you give them even the tiniest reason to doubt you, Aubrey James will wipe the floor with you. Well," she paused, "he'll try. But if he gets too near, I'll knock his teeth out."

Oswald chuckled. Faint spots of color appeared in his cheeks. "And then I'd string them together to make a necklace for you. After having them polished and dipped in silver, of course."

Ruby looked down at her necklace of garnets, each one like a dark amber tear. She tapped it with her finger. A moment later a veil fell over them, giving them the appearance of silver teeth. The sight was both grisly and gorgeous. She gave Oswald a wolfish grin. "Ruby likey." They shared a laugh.

When at last they bothered to tell Butch, he was skeptical to say the least. And not only due to the topic of their conversation.

It was an early, cloudy morning that promised to weep. But within Prof. Barker's lab, it was as bright and toasty as a Texan day. Freshly-acquired lights shone down on the arena that Barker had paved for Cobblair. Twenty feet in diameter, it was floored in white tiles and carried roped frames not unlike a boxing ring. Standing within it was none other than Victor Zsaz, dressed in form-fitting black. He had one sleeve rolled up to the elbow, ready to make a cut. Within his utility belt were half a dozen weapons whose nature only he knew about.

Cobblair, dressed in Oswald's silken gray trousers, Ruby's 'Mr. Robot' T-shirt, and mismatched shoes (a well-polished leather shoe on one foot, a battered black sneaker on the other), cracked their knuckles. They chuckled. "Really? This is the best that you could do?"

Barker arched a brow. "You mean you think you can take Zsaz? The man who's killed for money since age fourteen?"

Cobblair smirked. It was unnerving how similar that look was to both Oswald and Ruby. From his seat, Butch fingered his tie. The fusion continued. "Oh, we don't think we can. We know it."

Zsaz chuckled. Reached into his belt and revealed a box cutter. Its edge caught the light and slashed it to bits. "Don't worry, Nutty Professor." He assured Barker. "Penguin's top dog, so I won't hit any major spots." From beneath his hairless brow, his dark eyes twinkled. Whomever had come up with the term 'dark matter' had somehow seen this man's gaze. "I might hit a few bones, though. Just to put the maid in her place."

Cobblair's smirk transformed into a sneer. An arrow sprouted in Zsaz's bicep. The man merely blinked at it, whistled, and grabbed the hilt. Without hesitating he pulled. The arrow ripped out, sounding like someone stabbing a casaba. Blood stained the tiles. Butch stared wide-eyed at the display before turning back to the amalgam. Cobblair held up their arm. The skin was rippling unsteadily against the muscle. They blew on it before lowering their limb. Their eyes - one icy-blue, the other indigo - glimpsed at Barker. "Let's just get this over with." They jumped over the ropes. Cracked their knuckles.

Barker raised his voice. "Okay. Remember, this is only an exercise. Neither should aim to kill, only maim. Whomever remains standing in the next," he eyed his watch, "two minutes will be the winner. Ready..."

Cobblair's neck jerked to the side, cracking loudly, before straightening. Butch glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and sighed.

"Get set..."

"Hey." Zsaz's voice caught his opponent's attention. "Just wanted to let you know: even if you win, it won't be a real victory."

Cobblair blinked. Frowned.

Zsaz smirked devilishly. He gestured at his adversary's body. "This thing is just a cheap tactic to make two weak people stronger. If I were you, I'd stop embarrassing myself."

Two fists knotted.

"GO!"

Zsaz charged. Cobblair didn't.

The bald man brought both fists down, but his opponent was no longer there. Only cracked tiles and dust.

Butch straightened in his seat as he watched Zsaz try to hit the fusion in vain. He extended his arm, the box-cutter in his fingers. Cobblair hopped on his limb like a trained monkey before headbutting him. The impact sent him reeling back. Blood dripped from his nose. He licked it before charging again.

Cobblair deftly kicked the boxcutter out of his hand. It spun in the air before landing in Cobblair's waiting palms. It crumbled within their fingers like a dry twig. Tjey hid their hands behind their back. When they revealed them, the hands had grown to the size of baseball mitts. Zsaz produced two daggers from his belt. This time, they both charged.

Zsaz slashed twice. A red line appeared on the 'Mr. Robot' shirt. Thickened. Another appeared in the outer thigh, tearing through fabric and flesh. Cobblair glimpsed down and scowled. When they spoke, the voice was deeper than usual. "Do you know how many men I had to kill to pay for these pants?!" They charged with renewed fury. Two punches. One in Zsaz's stomach, and the other in the face. Zsaz quickly bounced back, grabbing Cobblair's arm. The fusion smashed face-first against the tiles, then the ropes. Grinning with bloody teeth at the approaching threat.

Cobblair grabbed the blades. Then, with a shout, tossed their owner into the air. Higher and higher, Zsaz flew backards. Remembering an old folks' tale, Cobblair sang:

"Up you go to the first level! Up you go to the second level! Up you go to the third level! HA!"

Zsaz came down. But not before the bullets in his revolver. Cobblair's rubbery arm climbed up the air, diving past the hot lead, and coiled around Zsaz's ankle. Yanked down. With a scream the assassin hit the ground. A cloud of dust rose.

Barker's phone began to beep. Cobblair grinned as they wiped their mouth. Zsaz, covered in dust and sweat, glared hatefully at the fusion. Barker began to clap. "Delicious, Cobblair, simply delicious! You've really come a long way from missing three out of five tennis balls!"

Cobblair chuckled. "Well, fortune favors the bold, after all." They cast a wayward glance over their sore shoulder. "Better luck next time." Zsaz spat.

Butch rose a bit too quickly. "Oookay, uh..." He fingered his tie again. "Is that all? These meetings only last an hour long, right?"

"Yes." Barker smiled. Waved at Cobblair. "See you next time, sir! Miss!" Cobblair waved back before hopping out of the arena. Never once looking at Zsaz, they gathered Oswald and Ruby's coats and umbrellas. Turned to Butch. Their expression was all too similiar to the Penguin's. "Well, don't just stand there! Come."

The two exited the building in silence. As promised, a light drizzle awaited them. Cobblair opened both their participants' umbrellas. Holding them in each hand, they turned to a very tense-looking Butch. "Now that our weekly training's been completed, we would like to discuss something with you."

"Uh-huh." Butch refused to look directly at them.

"Oswald is going to be entering the very competitive field of politics." Cobblair explained. "Specifically, we intend to kick Aubrey James off the throne that is rightfully Oswald's. While temporary, the position of mayor can only bring benefits to our cause."

"I'm sorry." Butch stopped walking. Cobblair did as well. "But, uh, would you mind...separatin'?"

Cobblair blinked.

"I mean, it's one thing if you're just using this...form..." Butch had clearly hosted other words for it, "to scare the Sirens or to fly back to the mansion. But...but I've never had to talk to you like this, so...could you separate?" Encouraged by Cobblair's silence, he added, "It's makin' me really uncomfortable."

Cobblair stared at him.

Twenty minutes later, the limousine parked smoothly into its spot. One of the servants nodded in greeting as Oswald climbed out of the passenger's seat, brushing off his impeccable grey suit. But when it was Ruby who emerged from the driver's seat, the chauffer's hat planted amongst her curls, the servant frowned. "Um," he was almost afraid to ask, "where, erm, is Gilzean?"

Ruby sniggered. Handed him the keys. "He's in the truck."

The servant stared at her with eyes the size of hard-boiled eggs. "What?! Why?"

Oswald spoke up. "His free movement was making us uncomfortable."

When at last Butch was freed, he followed Oswald down one of the dark corridors. Trying to avoid angering him for the second time, he attempted a more diplomatic approach. "I'm not bein' negative. I'm just sayin', it's a big step." Oswald smirked as he took a left, entering one of the living rooms. When Butch inevitably followed, his jaw dropped. "Holy crap."

What was usually one of the quietest rooms of the house had transformed into a politics-themed hive of ringing phones and chattering voices. People sat around the table making buttons and discussing possible activities. Red and blue balloons brushed against the ceiling. A red, white, and blue poster occupied an entire doorframe. It featured a clean-cut Oswald staring off into a secure future, his hand over his heart. Written in fine script were the words: Oswald Cobblepot for Mayor. Make Gotham Safe Again!

Ruby, showered and changed in a fucshia sweater and jeans, combed through the crowd with trays heavy with drinks. When she caught Oswald's eye, she blushed and mouthed her greeting. Oswald gave her a little bow before venturing further in the room, his cane thumping as securely as his pulse. "Gotham is rife with crime, Butch. Who better than a criminal to clean it up?" Butch was barely listening. His blue eyes scanned the room with a mixture of stupor and amazement. As the shock subsided, he turned to Oswald. The man had his hand on an assistant's shoulder as he eyed her handiwork.

"Okay," Butch began, "look, you know I faced the worst Gotham has to offer. But politicians? They scare me."

Ruby stopped by his side. "Wow. Remind me to dress up as one for Halloween." Butch quickly looked down. Giggling, the young woman held the tray out to him. "Thirsty? I got hot tea, iced tea, egg nogg, coffee, vodka, lemonade, hot cocoa-"

"This'll do." Butch grabbed a mug of egg nog just to shut her up. Ruby giggled again before disappearing into the crowd. Butch looked after her. Shuddering, he sipped the drink. His eyebrows flew up. Wow. It was actually pretty damn tasty. He took another, longer sip.

"The people of Gotham are with me." Oswald stated. "They are scared, which means angry, and who've they got to turn to? Aubrey James?" He snorted. "Please. That man is a hack." Turning away from the active buzzing of the room, he retreated to the fireplace with Butch at his heels. Above it, a solemn portrait of a well-loved man hung in peace. "This is my chance to create a legacy. One that my father would be proud of."

Seeing no way out, Butch sighed. "Well, you got my vote." Oswald chortled with glee.

In the back of the room, one of the phones began to ring. When it rang thrice without being answered, Ruby set down the trays and picked up the receiver. "Van Dahl residence." A moment later, her face went from blank to confused to excited. "Oh, my...hold on a second, please." Setting it down, she bolted across the room. "Oz!"

Oswald spun around at her urgent tone. "My dear, what is it?"

Ruby's grin threatened to split her face in two. "You'll never guess who I just got on the line."

Oswald leaned against his cane. "Considering we were sharing a mind not half an hour ago, try me." Butch shuddered at the memory and focused his efforts on the egg nogg.

Ruby laughed. "It's Aubrey. Freaking. James! He wants to meet you tomorrow at lunch. Alone."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Oh, is that right?" He turned to Butch. Shrugged and chuckled once more.