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Feist-Fire in the Water

Chapter 27

Alfred and Bruce retired to their rooms before Isabelle got back from dinner with Edward. Dinner had been great and it felt good to get out. Her and Edward laughed and talked almost non-stop. She was more than glad to have put that smile on his face, especially after he told her he heard Kristen call him weird. Isabelle decided she liked spending time with Edward very much. While other people found him weird and awkward she found him refreshing and very easy to be around and not to mention intelligent. He presented many riddles for her to solve throughout their dinner.

Now Isabelle sat in the study, trying to read. When the clock showed it was 11:40 she left the study and headed towards the front door. She paced back and forth, worrying her bracelet and her bottom lip, until there was a light knock on the door.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Oswald smiled at her, although he looked wary, as he entered the manor.

"Isabelle."

"Oswald. I'm glad you came."

"I'm curious as to the sudden change. You did tell me not to come back just the other day."

"I know. But after what you said about Fish…I couldn't do it anymore Oswald."

"Do what?"

"The back and forth with you, about you. You were correct. Fish did do something to me. I'll show you," she said, holding out her hand.

Oswald took it and Isabelle led him upstairs to her room. After she ushered him inside the door closed with a soft click and she kept her palms against it, behind her back, as she took in a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She was scared for his reaction. She had no idea what he would say, or do for that matter. But there was no going back now.

Taking another breath she toed off her black flats.

She pulled off her dark purple cardigan and tossed it on to the bed.

Isabelle held up her arm for Oswald to see. At first he wasn't sure what she was doing as he gently took her arm in his hands.

Oswald's eyes began to darken as he put together the letters carved into Isabelle's once smooth skin. The letters were very fresh light pink scars.

He snapped his head up so his eyes could meet hers and they searched hers fervently. He found pain and shyness and fear. He brought her arm to his lips and, gently, slowly, kissed every letter that marred her sweet skin.

"Are there more?" he asked.

She nodded before pulling off the grey t-shirt she was wearing. Oswald watched in complete apprehension as Isabelle, the girl he'd gone back and forth over and worried about for weeks, proceeded to slip her jeans down her hips to her ankles and kicked them the rest of the way off.

"Isabelle?" he inquired.

She stood before him in nothing but her undergarments. Oswald's eyes were wide.

Isabelle held her breath as he stared into her eyes again.

"Fish…did this…to you," he stated.

Isabelle nodded.

"The day you left?"

"The day before…after you revealed yourself. She had me dropped off at the police station for Jim to find me. I…was unconscious for that part. Jim said…"

"What? What did he say?"

"He said he thought he was going to lose me, I'd lost so much blood."

"But Fish's plan was never to kill you," Oswald stated, his hands in fists at his sides.

Isabelle nodded.

"Of course not. She just wanted to use you to send a message. To me." He was absolutely seething, the anger in his eyes more intense than anything she'd ever seen in his eyes before.

"That's why I didn't tell you. Why I didn't want you to know, because I want to protect you. I don't want you to do something rash to get back at Mooney. You have to keep your head in the game. I'm only a distraction," she admitted.

"No," he pulled her to him. "You didn't leave because you don't want me; because you think I'm not good enough for you."

"Oswald," she looked up at him and ran her hands through his bangs. "I would never think either of those things about you."

"This is my fault," he tried to pull away from her but she refused to let him, clutching him tighter.

Isabelle and Oswald were equally responsible for enticing the other. Although neither of them meant to do such a thing. Oswald, with his inexperience and naivety when it came to such things, Isabelle with her own levels of naivety, in both relationships and the city of Gotham her uncle was so desperately trying to make a difference in. Had Isabelle not kissed as much as Oswald had? Did they not both give and accept sweet words and promises? They were both responsible for what happened to Isabelle, for falling for the other, for daring to find a bright spot in a city as dark as Gotham. Isabelle voiced as much to Oswald.

"I love you, Oswald Cobblepot," she said gently before pressing her lips to his.

He returned her kiss before pulling back, noting rather cheerfully that her lips still tasted of oranges, something he'd begun to associate with her in her absence. "I love you too," he said before softly muttering again, "my golubushka."

Isabelle's eyebrow rose in question and Oswald chuckled faintly, his smile reaching his eyes. "It means 'little dove' in Russian," he explained. Isabelle realized anger was no longer the most intense thing she'd seen in Oswald's eyes, it was love.

Isabelle smiled and kissed him again. He kissed her back and willingly followed her to the bed. His arms latched onto her hips as she sat down on the bed and proceeded to lie down, bringing him with her, their lips barely parting to get air.

Oswald broke the kiss. "I need to see the others."

Isabelle nodded and Oswald sat up more so he could get a better look. When he found the one above her heart he kissed each letter, just as he'd done with her arm. After that he moved on to her hip, the top of her thigh, her calf, the one on the outside of her right foot. Each time he moved to a new one her heart rate seemed to speed up and each of Oswald's kisses to her skin seemed to be gentler and longer than the last.

"Six?" he asked, wondering if the number was significant.

She sat up. "Seven. One for every letter in the word Penguin. One more on my back." She turned to show him.

Oswald leaned down, kissing each letter on her back, before continuing to kiss up her spine.

Isabelle was surprised, to say the least, at how Oswald was responding. She certainly didn't expect this when she asked him to come by.

She let out a gasp when she felt his tongue run along her neck and she turned to lie back on her back. She pulled Oswald's face back down to hers so they were almost nose to nose.

"Oswald," she breathed, searching his face.

What she couldn't tell was that his own heart had been racing while he kissed her scars.

"You're not…disgusted? That I have 'Penguin' all over me?"

Oswald chuckled. "No, Isabelle Gordon. If anything Fish has just cemented that you're mine, that you'll always be mine."

At his words heat made its way to her core and she pressed her lips to his, quickly letting him know her tongue wanted entrance into his mouth, which he obliged eagerly. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth as their lips separated.

"Oswald?"

"Hmmm," he asked, his pupils blown wide.

"You promise you won't do anything rash in retaliation?"

"I promise." Oswald chuckled. "Fish is already taken care of."

"Will you make love to…with me?"

Oswald, ever the gentleman, asked, "Are you certain?"

Isabelle smiled. "Absolutely."

AN: Alright! Wait, wait! Don't throw your rotten tomatoes at me just yet! It doesn't end here! If you want the rest of this chapter, which is a lemon, go to AO3, same title, same author name, same chapter!