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Chapter 8

Isabelle woke in the middle of the night. She was gasping as she sat up and clutched her chest.

"Isabelle," Oswald whispered as he sat up as well.

She fell back onto the bed. "It's nothing just a little nightmare."

"What happened?"

"What do you think? I was on the couch and he was on top of me, nothing different than before, but that same fear was there. Then I was on the floor and stabbed him. My mind is just replaying it." She sighed and rolled over to face him, running a hand through her hair. "Thank you for sleeping with me tonight Oswald, for keeping me company. I know this may sound ridiculous but I do feel safe with you. You won't hurt me."

Oswald laughed nervously. "You're welcome. I must admit I don't have much experience with this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Isabelle asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

Oswald was glad there was barely any light in the small bedroom so she couldn't see the red from the heat he felt in his cheeks. "Well I mean sharing a bed with a beautiful young lady," he said, stumbling over the words a little.

Isabelle giggled and his smile fell.

"I'm not laughing at you," she reached for one of his hands and, to his amazement, slowly entwined her fingers with his. "I'm flattered and I'm not used to that." From the look on his face she continued "Oswald calm down I'm just…" A thought suddenly came to mind. She took in his racing heart, his embarrassment, "Oswald have you ever been kissed?"

His eyes widened. "Wha…what? Of course loads of times."

"Liar," She bit her lip. "Close your eyes."

"I..I," he started as she leaned down bringing her face closer to his.

"If you don't want me to just tell me," she said pausing and waiting for an answer.

He froze with the proximity of her face to his as her warm sweet breath hit his face. He didn't think his heart could beat any faster but what he didn't notice was that hers was beating just as fast.

When he didn't answer she took it as a yes and closed the gap between them. The kiss was gentle, soft and short. She pulled back and he gasped a little, eyes wide as he stared at her.

She lay down again and with her face in his side and their hands still entwined they fell asleep again.

~O.o~

The next morning they barely spoke to each other as they gathered their things. Isabelle didn't want to admit it but she didn't want to separate just yet. She was still determined find out more about him.

Oswald drove them to the impound lot where he used the last of the stolen cash to get her car out. Oswald dumped the truck and she drove to the bus depot.

"Well I guess this is it Miss Gordon. I must say I was pleasantly surprised when I stumbled upon you."

"Thank you for not, you know, killing me Oswald," she smiled. "And for last night."

He nodded and as he put his hand on the door handle she spoke up, "Will I see you again?"

The range of emotions that flitted across his face gave her a lump in her throat as she waited for his answer. He looked happy and disappointed at the same time. "I don't know." He was glad she'd said that even though such a sentiment was entirely new to him. Yes, he wanted to see her again but he had no idea when or even if that was a good idea. She could hold him back but he wanted to stick to his word when it came to her.

She sighed. "I understand. Just be careful Oswald okay?" she said, eyes pleading.

"I can't make those kinds of promises," he admitted honestly.

She leaned over the console and placed a kiss on his cheek. His eyes closed for a second from the contact, reveling in the feel of her warm lips against his skin but in a second the sensation was gone.

"Isabelle you can't tell your uncle about any of this."

"I won't. I promise."

"You can't mention my name either and be careful. If Falcone wants you, you have to be very careful."

She was going to ask why, why she couldn't mention his name, but thought better of it. She knew there was still a lot he hadn't told her and maybe it was better if she didn't know that much at least for the moment. "Okay."

"Bye Isabelle."

"Bye Oswald."

She watched him go but didn't stay to see whether or not he looked back. He did.

~O.o~

"Jim!" Barbara's face beamed as she yelled for her fiancé with her arms around Isabelle. "Isabelle's here!"

"Isabelle!?" She could hear him coming as Barbara let go and she stepped inside the apartment and set her bags down. "Hey there's my Izzy! Where the hell have you been?" Jim asked as he pulled her into his arms.

"Sorry Uncle Jim, car trouble," she explained, which technically wasn't a lie. She had been separated from hers after all.

"Well why didn't you call me?" he asked as he moved to get her bags.

"I lost my phone and the phone at the mechanics wasn't working," something else which wasn't entirely false.

Jim stared at her for a moment and she could he wasn't sure if he believed her or not when he smiled. "Well you're here now and you're safe. I'll show you your room."

She followed him to a small bedroom off to the side and down a hallway.

"Bathrooms at the end of the hall," he said. "And uh," he leaned in as if to whisper, "Barbara's been dying to go shopping so you can get some things to make you feel more at home."

"I heard that," Barbara said as she came around the corner. She smiled, "But he's right and he hates shopping so I've really been missing out lately."

Isabelle smiled back. "That's okay, the room's great, thank you. You don't have to go through any trouble."

"Nonsense," Barbara said, shaking that notion off. "We'll go tomorrow morning, maybe meet up with Jim for lunch?" She looked to Jim, smiling.

Jim nodded, "Yeah sure, sounds great." He hugged Isabelle again. "I'm glad you're here Izzy."

They went shopping the next morning as promised. Isabelle got a few clothes and books and on Barbara's insistence a piece of art that she'd found Isabelle staring at in the window of a studio.

"Are you sure that's all you want?" Barbara asked her as they sat inside a little Italian place, Bamonte's. "I'm sure Barbara. It's plenty. Thank you."

"I don't quite get why you like that painting. It's a bit dark isn't it?"

I don't think so," Isabelle said. The painting was too big to take with them so it would have to be delivered. It was made up of blacks, grays, blues and white. The blues are what stood out to Isabelle the most. When she saw it she was immediately reminded of Oswald's eyes and of himself. There was a dark, lean figure in the painting, with dark hair, but his features were hidden except for the blue eyes. The same blue hues spread out behind him, surrounding him and fading into the white then grays and then blacks. If you stood back far enough and squinted the image as a whole almost looked like an eye.

"Ugh," Barbara put down her phone. "Your uncle's tied up with work so he won't be meeting us." She smiled. "Another time I guess. You'll get used to it."

"Does that happen a lot?" Isabelle asked feeling bad for Barbara, seeing how disappointed she was.

Barbara sighed. "It's okay. He's doing great. He caught the Wayne's killer his first case."

"Who are the Wayne's?" Isabelle asked completely unaware that Oswald Cobblepot was currently watching her through the glass that separated the kitchen from the dining area as he washed dishes.