Chapter 64

By mid-afternoon, the sky had become an unforgiving gray. Flocks of crows took flight, speckling the horizon. It was gloomy enough to warrant the illumination of candles during lunch, which was taken in relative silence. Over bowls of turnip soup and slices of toasted rye bread, Oswald and Ruby kept exchanging tiny smiles. Edward didn't notice; he kept his head down as he ate, his brow furrowed in thought. As their empty bowls were taken away and replaced with small cups of coffee, Ruby caught Oswald's eye and gave him a questioning look. When he frowned, clearly puzzled, Ruby subtly tilted her head in Edward's direction. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, Oswald nodded reassuringly.

But it turned out that he didn't need to speak to Edward. The moment the table was cleared, he shot up like a bullet and marched into the sitting room. When Oswald and Ruby found him pacing back and forth, they knew better than to push him. He was clearly on the verge of exploding already. Hesiantly, the two seated themselves on the divan in front of Edward. Right in time for his worried speech.

"Maybe she was right." He said. For a second, Ruby thought that he was referring to her. But if she was in the same room as him, why would he call her 'she' and not by her name? Edward confirmed it when he continued. "What if there's something about Miss Kringle's..." He squeezed his eyes shut, correcting himself, "...Kristen's...Isabella's face...what if there's something about her face that unlocks this side of me?"

Oswald stopped, then slowly grinned. He felt something of his own unlocking. A fountain of emotions gushed forth, filling his every fibre. Excitement. Triumph. Love. They all burned deliciously like fire logs on the first winter's day.

"What if I do hurt her?" Edward asked, biting his thumbnail nervously.

Ruby sighed. "Did I talk to a freaking garden gnome this morning?"

"No, Ruby, of course not." Edward replied. "But I...I'm too frightened of the idea of hurting her." When his gaze transferred from the fair-haired woman to the mayor, his brows rose. "Oswald."

Oswald looked up dreamily, his temple resting against his knuckles. "Yes."

"You're smiling." Edward's voice deepened. Ruby turned to her friend, puzzled. Oswald straightened, his expression surprised. "I was."

"Yes." Edward confirmed tersely. Ruby sighed, rubbing her own temples.

For a moment, Oswald said nothing. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's. Then, he finally recovered his voice. It didn't sound convincing in the slightest. "Well, I was just thinking...how darned lucky Isabella is!"

Ruby stared at him, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"You love her, but to protect her, you are willing to break up with her." Oswald rested his hands on his knees, looking earnestly at his friend. "Beautiful. Sad, but beautiful."

"Oh, God." Ruby whispered, dropping her head.

"So you think I should break up with her." Edward wasn't asking; but he sounded uncertain.

Oswald's icy-blue eyes widened theatrically. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that was what we were talking about." He quickly dialled it back, thank goodness, holding his hands up. "Certainly, I would never-"

"No, you're right." Edward sat down next to Oswald, a concerned look on his face. "If I did hurt her, I'd never forgive myself."

Oswald sighed dramatically. "That life would put her in your path again, only to snatch her from you. Why?" He asked rhetorically.

Edward pressed his fingers against his eyes, beneath his square glasses. "I can't do it."

Oswald's head whipped back towards his friend. "What?"

"I can't break up with her." Edward's voice was muffled as his hands crawled further into his face like giant spiders.

Oswald looked almost frightened before putting on a reasonable tone. "But you said yourself-"

"I need you to do it for me." Edward decided. He turned to Oswald with pleading eyes. "Would you do that?"

"Uh," Ruby interjected, "I think I should do it. You know, Isabella might take it better if she hears it from a woman. More familiar, you know?"

"But she's only met you once, and you two barely exchanged pleasantries." Oswald replied firmly. "I, on the other hand, spoke to her already. I know how to tell her."

"Yeah, I bet you do." Ruby replied tartly before turning back to Edward. "Ed, please."

"Ruby," Edward held his hand up, "I appreciate it, but I'd rather Oswald did it. He is a wordsmith, and I trust he'll break it to her gently." He reverted his attention to his friend. "Just...be gentle."

Oswald slapped his hand on his friend's knee. Squeezed it while meeting his eye. "Of course."

Ruby sighed, defeated. "Alright, I've had enough of this." Standing up once again, she combed a hand through her hair. "If you'll excuse me, I have gems to polish." Without waiting for a reply, she marched out of the room. Oswald bit his lip as he watched her go. He hoped, no, prayed that all was still alright between them. They had only patched things up hours earlier, and he wanted more than anything to keep those stitches holding.

One thing was for sure, though. Isabella had once again caused friction between them. That was just one more reason to avoid gentleness altogether.

The next forty-five minutes passed as if behind a frosted window: vaguely, distant, and hardly important. Oswald summoned his driver, gave him the harlot's address, and watched the city unwind. As the sky began to darken, with a light drizzle of hail clacking against the limo's roof, the streets' crowds thinned out. Gutters swollen with litter and rain sputtered as if choked. Torn, wet newspapers twirled with every gust of cold wind. Scantily-clad women, barely sheltered under the newspapers they were raising, leaned against cars as they flirted with the drivers. The buildings looked half-drowned, with orange veins of rust running up their sides.

Oswald remembered how people called this city. Beautiful. Broken. He supposed that it was true. But a city is only as good as its inhabitants.

At long last, he reached the harlot's apartment building. It was the only one on its street to look remotely cared for. The front yard was without trees or flowers, but the grass was mown. The saffron-colored bricks were a bit grimy, but clean compared to most. Only a few of the windows were boarded up. As Oswald limped towards the front door, he spotted a couple sitting behind a table. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the table was loaded with jewelry. Necklaces. Bracelets. Anklets. Earrings. Their rainbow hues were like a lighthouse's beam on a stormy night. Oswald hesitated, before inching closer to the table. The couple perked up as they saw him approach, but he didn't give them so much as a look.

Ruby hadn't come down the stairs to say goodbye to him. When he'd climbed into the limousine, he'd nevertheless felt her presence, like a pulsing in the back of his head. He'd stopped and looked behind him. There, in the round wide window of the attic, had been Ruby. With a tourmaline pendant in her hand, the deep green of a Scottish prairie, she had gazed down at him with a mixture of wariness and longing. Smiling hesitantly, Oswald had raised a hand in farewell. After a second, she had done the same.

That had convinced Oswald that, at the very least, she wasn't angry. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to tighten the bonds between them, to further bury the hurt and embarrassment that had come with last night. That was why, as he looked at the array of gems and beads, he attempted to see them through Ruby's eyes. At last, he selected a necklace long enough to be roped about the sternum several times, beaded with chunks of gold and amber. When the woman behind the stand asked for a mere thirty-five dollars in payment, Oswald took a piece of amber between his teeth and bit down. Hard. When the gem did not crack, but his molar did, Oswald smirked to himself. This mere street woman had no idea that she'd used real gems. She'd probably thought that they were made from plastic and colored glass.

Oswald felt a little proud of himself. By seeing the jewelry with Ruby's eyes, he had snuffed out the only genuine gems on the table. Either that, or living with an aspiring geologist for eighteen months had rubbed off on him.

Deciding that the gift itself was what truly mattered, Oswald paid the woman and had the necklace placed into a little velvet satchel. Tucking it into his jacket's breast pocket, he pushed the front door open. His heart galloped at a million miles per minute, almost hurting him, as he climbed up the stairs. At last, he reached the door to Isabella's apartment. It was no different than the other doors - plain, with slightly peeling paint - but the sight angered him nonetheless. This was going to be sweet. He let the side of his fist collide with the door. Repeatedly. At last, there was a click and a creak. Isabella stood before him, her face even whiter thanks to the black turtleneck that she was wearing. Her pale blonde hair was done up in a bun, as usual, and her lips were painted a delicate, seashell pink.

Oh, she looked so innocent. That made the prospect all the more enjoyable.

"Mayor Cobblepot?" The words stumbled out of her plump lips like drunkards.

Oswald grinned. "Hello, Isabella." He gestured to the door separating them. "May I?"

"Uh..." For a moment, Isabella hesitated. No doubt it was her survival instinct tingling with suspicion. In the briefest of seconds, Oswald thought that she would close that door in his face. Instead, the gap opened and she stepped aside. "Of course."

Smirking, Oswald lumbered inside. His gift for Ruby was very warm, almost hot, against his chest. It made him feel even more powerful than he already did. He examined his surroundings as he awaited Isabella. The walls were the color of wild strawberries. Wan sunlight streamed in through tan curtains. Paintings of flowers and birds hung from the walls. The furniture was pale, varying from cream-shaded to pallid green. There were bookshelves, stuffed to the brim, in both the corridor and the saloon.

The place wasn't half bad. It deserved a better owner.

A brown smudge caught Oswald's eye. Turning his head, he saw the suitcase sitting near the doorway like an obedient dog. Smirking, he pointed at it. "Going somewhere?"

"Just for a couple of nights." Isabella wrung her hands as she spoke to him. Her voice was strained, nervous. Good. "But I was hoping to talk to Ed before I left. Tried calling him. Is he okay?"

Oswald inhaled. "Hm. Yes. How shall I put this?" He didn't need to think twice for the answer. Seeing Isabella's stupid, blank face facilitated the words' arrival. "It's over." God, it felt amazing to say. Like the first churchbells ringing in the dawn air.

Isabella just blinked dumbly, like a cow. "Excuse me?"

"He is not going to see you anymore. Do not try to contact him. That door is closed." Then, for good measure, he smirked again. "Have a nice life."

Isabella gasped, then heaved in her hand. "Oh, my." Crumpling as though someone had kneed her in the gut, she perched on the closest sofa's armrest. Trembling like a sparrow caught in the rain, with her own personal rain accumulating in her eyes.

Oswald continued, unable to help himself. "It is a shock. But besides your..." he paused, frowning, as he picked a word, "odd resemblance to his ex, a certain facility with riddles..." He trailed off, spotting the paper people again, and growled, "compulsion for order..." Oswald cleared his head. "What is it that you two really have in common? Edward is a person of exceptional intelligence and imagination. He deserves to be appreciated by someone on his own level. And you, my dear, are simply not." He leaned slightly towards her, glowering. He was literally as well as figuratively above her. "Best to end things now."

Isabella looked up at him with watery eyes. "You're right." She shook her head. "I don't deserve him."

His chest bursting with glory, Oswald bore a smile. "Glad we agree. Bye!"

"But I'm not gonna let him go." Isabella added, stopping Oswald dead in his tracks. He stood there, feeling like he'd just stepped out, expecting a warm summer's day but instead finding a blizzard. He stared at her, disbelieving, as she continued. Standing up. "He loves me, and I love him. Do you know how rare that is, Mr. Mayor?"

Oswald could only stare at her, flabberghasted, when something changed in her visage. He could not describe it, precisely. But he saw it. As she did. "Of course you do," she whispered, "because you love him, too. I can see it." Oswald could only move his lips soundlessly, feeling as exposed as a flayed man hanging on display. Deep color bled into his cheeks. "I'm not even jealous." Isabella seemed to say this with more wonder than superiority.

Before Oswald could say a word, she'd continued. "It was my glasses this morning. They reminded him of Miss Kringle. He's afraid he'll hurt me like he hurt her."

But Oswald had had enough. All pretense of courtesy faded like morning mist. He took one, solid step towards her. Their noses were inches apart. "Listen to me, you little idiot." He hissed heatedly. "I am telling you one last time: let. Ed. Go."

"No." Isabella replied calmly. "I will write to him, I will make him understand that he has nothing to fear. I'm not gonna let him go."

It was pointless, he saw, to continue this conversation. The fervor in those eyes, the stiffness in her posture, reminded him of a general about to lead his soldiers into battle. Nothing was going to distract her, or frighten her. Oswald could have easily abducted or beaten her, but that would probably only strengthen this desperate, pathetic union.

Oswald gave her a vicious smile. It was more bared teeth than anything else. "Very well. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Daylight darkened into night. Many things unfolded during that time. Most of them, not very nice.

Edward did not take the news well. Thanking Oswald profusely, he escaped to cry in his room.

Oswald gave an order on the phone before climbing up the stairs. Then, he knocked on Ruby's door.

When she saw him there with the velvet pouch sitting in his hand, Ruby carefully questioned him. When his careful answers quelled her worry sufficiently, she accepted the token. The light in her eyes could light up any room. But the doubt, however minute, remained.

Edward, on the other hand, was summoned by Isabella. He went, ever the gallant fool. He didn't return or call right away.

Oswald spent the evening sipping cognac and trying to calm himself. The way Edward returned would determine a fate.

Just when he was about to drink himself into a light nap, the glass was gently pried out of his fingers. Looking up, he saw Ruby. Her face and hair were a burnt gold, painted by the fireplace's hungry flames. She was dressed in an ankle-length nightgown the color of ashes; beneath it, her robe was black with pale blue swans weaving through the threads. The necklace of gold and amber curled around her neck like a beautiful, friendly snake. She shook her head, though her gaze was soft. "When are you going to go easy on the alcohol?"

"When my problems evaporate." Oswald replied.

Ruby snorted as she sat down in the armchair in front of his. "Every time we deal with a problem, we create two more."

Oswald was quiet for a moment. 'We', she had said, not 'you'. He wondered if she could still hear his thoughts. Feel his emotions. But no. Barker had explained that such a link was only established after the primary fusion. Afterwards, their bodies and minds would get used to each other. Judging from Ruby's calm, yet worried expression, Oswald decided that Barker had spoken verily. Which was good. He liked the wacko. It would be a shame to execute him.

"Well," Oswald tried to reach for the bottle, "I suppose I'll be drinking for quite a while, then." Ruby snatched the bottle out of reach. Then, smirking, she reached out behind her. Her arm stretched out like a firefighter's hose, cutting through the five-foot room and resting the bottle on a shelf. One too high for Oswald to reach. Oswald scoffed, smiling. "In this moment, I'm almost relieved that my mother passed away; otherwise, in this moment I'd have two."

"Oh, you!" Ruby tossed the armchair's cushion at him. He caught it, chuckling. The two shared a laugh that brightened the room. But like all things, it came to an end. The room felt drafty as the doubt wriggled back in its place between them.

"Is there, uh, anything you didn't mention?" Ruby asked. "About your visit to Isabella?"

Oswald tried to look weary but instead felt terrified. "Do you have so little faith in me?"

"I have more faith in you than any god put together." Ruby replied bluntly. "But I know you well enough to know that your emotions go wild. And when they do, you toss reason and strategy out the window. It was like that with your chopping off Butch's hand, your rescue mission, Grace and her brats' murder-"

"You dumped the body in a pit about to be filled with cement." Oswald cut her off defensively. Indeed, no one had ever unearthed the truth about Grace Van Dahl's fate. She was still filed as a 'missing' person, as were her children. She would remain in that file forever.

"Because I knew ahead of time that the hole was there." Ruby answered. "Because I'd been walking that path for weeks, often carrying the dry cleaning. But what if I hadn't?"

Oswald was silent. Ruby had spoken harshly, but truthfully. He did let his emotions get the better of him. But upon reflection, Oswald decided that he would have much preferred that over being an apathic block of marble like Galavan had been.

He tried to look convincing as he spoke. "Ruby, I swear that everything occured as I explained two hours ago. I told Isabella that Edward wanted to terminate their farse of a relationship-"

"Did you say that?" Ruby asked queasily.

"You know I didn't." Oswald responded before continuing, "and she simply refused to see the light. That's all there is to it."

Ruby sighed. Closed her eyes. For a few beats, she was quiet. Then, she spoke. Her voice was low. "Oz...I'm tired of all the tension behind us. I'm tired of being nervous around you of all people. Of being distant. Of not communicating properly."

Oswald nodded to show that the feeling was mutual.

"So, if you do anything to this lady...I'll..." She swallowed, looking into his eyes, "I'll make sure no one knows."

Oswald didn't answer. He just stared.

"I'll be sure to bite your head off once we're alone," Ruby assured him, "but I'll still have your back. Even if you confess and give me evidence, I won't go to the police." She paused. "More importantly, I won't tell Edward."

Oswald could feel his eyes filling with tears.

"I know how much he means to you." She sighed. "If anything happens, I know he'll be heartbroken. But if it was you, he'll never know it from me." Ruby looked at him for a long moment, grabbing his gaze with hers and shaking it. "You have my word."

Oswald swallowed. "Did you not have the higher morals between us?"

"I guess," Ruby shrugged, "but if anything happened to you..." She sighed. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life back in my mother's attic than lose you."

Oswald was crying now. Silent, happy tears were sliding down his face. The mixture of joy, guilt, and appreciation filled his chest until he felt ready to explode. He held out his hand to her. She took it. He pulled her towards him, then took her face in his hands. Ruby froze, eyes wide. Oswald gently planted his lips on her forehead. Ruby felt her insides turn to butter. A kiss. A proper kiss. At last.

That was when the door clicked open.