AN: Hello there! Okay, here's another chapter for you immensely patient people! Seriously, if you're still here you deserve some kudos because you are awesome! This chapter takes place between episodes one and two of season two. Enjoy and please review!

Playlist: Halsey-I Walk the Line

Chapter 36

On Sunday Elle woke up a little later than usual. She had stayed up late thinking about Edward and trying to force herself to remember anything about him. She was still a little nervous about Edward coming over and hanging out. What if he didn't like this her? The her that couldn't remember? She wasn't even sure if she liked herself. She just didn't feel entirely pulled together, like some pieces were missing, which she knew was the case when it came to her memories, and it just gnawed at her often. She shook her head, dispelling the negative thoughts. Edward had visited her at the hospital after all. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and told herself it would be fine before getting out of bed.

She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth and washed her face, then wet her hands under the running water and ran them through her hair to fix the massive amount of volume that was in her pixie after going to bed with it wet. She dressed in skinny blue jeans and a blush pink V-neck tee. She stepped into her black flats before heading downstairs for a late breakfast.

"So what time will Mr. Nygma be here?" Alfred asked as he poured Isabelle a cup of tea and slid a raspberry pastry on a plate over to her.

Isabelle thanked him as she stirred a little bit of sugar into her cup. "Around noon."

"So not long now?"

She nodded.

"And how are you feeling? If you start to feel tired and need Mr. Nygma to leave so you can rest just let me know," Alfred said, his tone serious, leaving no doubt in Isabelle's mind that he wouldn't fail to drag Nygma out if need be. She was still recovering from the gunshot wound. The scar where the bullet had entered was still tender to the touch and she had been told by her doctor to refrain from anything too strenuous for a few more weeks.

"I feel fine grandfather," she tried to assure him.

"Ah, what did I tell you? Call me Alfred, please."

"Sorry. Alfred. I'm fine, really."

Bruce entered the kitchen. "You didn't have a nightmare last night," he smiled at her, standing next to Alfred as he'd already had his breakfast.

Isabelle smiled back. "Good, I fear I'm making you sleep deprived with all of them."

"I don't mind. Truly. I came to tell you your guest is here."

Isabelle quickly finished her breakfast and went to find Edward waiting for her in the study. From the doorway she saw his profile as he sat on the couch and she paused, smoothing down her shirt to make sure there were no crumbs on it.

"Hello," she said softly.

Edward immediately rose from his seat and smiled broadly at her. Isabelle came around to where he was. "Hi," he greeted her.

"Um, hi," she said and let out a small giggle from nervousness.

"You look good. I-I mean well, you look well," Edward said, clearly just as nervous as she was.

"Thank you," she blushed and glanced away. "Would you…like to watch a movie in the theater?"

"This place has its own movie theater?" He asked, clearly in awe.

A couple hours later the lights came back on and Isabelle looked at Edward. "Well?"

They had watched the latest film version of Macbeth with Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard.

"That was an excellent rendition of Macbeth. Fassbender just steals the show. As he should since he's Macbeth," Edward said.

"When he does the 'scorpions in my mind' part I just-uh! He nails it! How he says it, his face, his expression, his eyes, everything, he just nails it! I wasn't much of a fan before I saw this but that bit really did it for me and Marion holds her own as Lady Macbeth."

"Absolutely," Edward agreed. "They really do the characters justice."

Isabelle nodded before asking, "Are you hungry?"

~O.o~

Isabelle and Edward were sitting outside at a table in view of the garden, eating finger sandwiches and little cakes and tarts with their tea. The sun would peek out every now and then but mostly the skies were overcast, as usual, but the weather was still nice.

"So, do you like working at the GCPD? Do you work with my uncle a lot?" Isabelle asked, starting the conversation after some awkward moments of silence except for clinking dishes.

"I do but I also feel like I may be destined for bigger things, better things. I feel Jim Gordon is a bit more civil and intelligent than some of those brutes that work there." His face turned dark for a moment.

"Do some of your co-workers…pick at you?" Isabelle asked, although she was afraid of prodding too far. She really didn't like the thought of others, his co-workers nonetheless, making fun of Edward for simply being himself.

"Nothing I can't handle," Edward answered. "But really, how are you feeling?"

"I just want to remember the past year," she said honestly. "I wish I could remember what happened, the mugging, maybe try and get the guy caught."

Edward snorted.

"What?" she asked, a little taken aback at his reaction.

"Muggings are an everyday occurrence in Gotham."

"Surely they investigate when someone nearly dies from it." Isabelle's face showed her concern and Edward backtracked.

"Well, I mean, of course. We've been looking for clues but since you don't remember it even happening, we don't have much to go on."

Isabelle nodded, content with his answer, knowing that was likely all she would get.

"Is there something wrong with starting off fresh though?" Edward asked over his tea cup.

"Well, no, but I mean I feel like I've forgotten so much. I would like to remember how we met and became friends the first time."

"I can tell you," Edward smiled. Isabelle waited and he took her silence to mean he could continue. "We met when you came to the station to meet your uncle for lunch. He was busy so I took you instead. When we got back to the station you hugged me and it went from there."

"It went from there how?" Isabelle asked, her tea forgotten in front of her.

Edward continued, "We went to this charity ball together and I got in a fight defending you from a complete and utter cretin that disrespected you and you patched me up at my apartment. That's when we first kissed."

"First kissed? So were we like, in a relationship?" Her heart was pounding at this information and her stomach felt like it was floating. She'd kissed the man before her before? Her eyes darted to his lips for a moment.

"Well, we were heading in that direction before you were shot," he replied, looking down at his cup.

She let out a silent "oh."

They were both quiet for a moment before Edward spoke up. "Would you like to take a walk around the garden?"

She nodded and he stood, holding out his hand. She took it and rose from her chair and she noticed he didn't drop her hand. As they walked through the garden Isabelle couldn't help but feel she was in a Jane Austen novel. Taking a turn about the garden with a gentleman. They turned a corner and Edward stopped. Isabelle watched as he plucked a purple rose from a bush and held it out to her.

She took it and smiled. "These are my favorite."

Edward moved closer to her and tightened his fingers that were around hers. And then he was stepping closer. She looked up at him curiously. She hadn't seen this side of him yet. Confident. That's what he was. How he could go from meek to confident in a few moments had her a bit confused but his confident side was definitely attractive. Wait, attractive? Yes, she resolved as he reached a hand up and played with her cow licked bangs that kept covering her left eyebrow, she was indeed attracted to Edward Nygma. As he moved his hand from her hair to cradle her cheek and lean in for a kiss she did nothing to stop him. She didn't want to as Edward's lips met hers, soft and sure of his movements, his other side clearly taking over. And this time he didn't fight it, especially since Isabelle reached her free hand up to rest on his shoulder and pull him closer. Her heart was pounding and she felt a thrill go through her as they continued to kiss.

They broke apart when they heard someone clearing their throat.

Your uncle is here to see you, Isabelle," Alfred said, eyes narrowed at Edward.

"Uncle Jim? I'll be right there." She was about to take Edward's hand again and head out of the garden when Alfred held up a hand.

"I'd like to have a word with Mr. Nygma for a moment," Alfred said.

Isabelle nodded and, the rose still in her hand, she left to go see Jim.

Edward smiled at Alfred who was waiting for Isabelle to get out of earshot. When she was he spoke. "Now, I heard what you told her at the table. That was very, very, irresponsible of you. She has to figure these things out on her own," the older man scolded.

"A little help along the way won't hurt," Edward said, keeping up his smiling face.

"You know she wasn't with you. You're taking advantage of her," Alfred hissed, stepping closer to the younger man.

"And the man she was with, Cobblepot," Edward almost spat the name, "Is the reason she's in this mess in the first place. I am much better for her."

Alfred took a step back and made a show of sizing Nygma up. "That remains to be seen. If you hurt her, you'll regret it."

"I won't. I truly care about her, more than Cobblepot ever did. She'll be happier with me."

"And when she remembers? She'll realize what you've done. What then?" Alfred challenged, seriously restraining himself from throwing Nygma out that instant. He didn't like that Edward was taking advantage of Isabelle's amnesia. He wanted to stop it but he'd also seen how happy Isabelle was and he was torn.

"If she remembers," Edward answered, smiling widely at the older man in front of him. "I'll show myself out."

After reassuring her uncle that she was just fine and hugging him goodbye before he left, Isabelle went up to her room, the rose still in her hand and the weekly bouquet delivery from Oswald sat on a side table in the entryway, forgotten.

~O.o~

"Uh, boss?"

"Yes, what is it?" Oswald asked, leaning on the armrest of his chair at the head of the table.

"Um, well, Isabelle, she-"

"What?" Oswald sat up straight, immediately concerned, "She what? Spit it out!"

"S-she spent the day with Ed-Edward Nygma at Wayne Manor, s-sir," the lackey answered, barely able to look his boss in the eyes for fear of what he was telling him.

Oswald's eyes narrowed and his lackey stumbled over his next words even more.

"They-uh-uh-s-seemed rather, um, c-cozy."

"How cozy?" Oswald's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"They-they were k-k-kissing." Now the lackey was avoiding his boss's gaze all together.

Oswald seemed to consider what the man was telling him and then, in a fit of anger, rose from his chair and beat the man with the closest object, which happened to be a silver tray.

Soon after the lackey limped away Butch entered the room from where he had been watching in the doorway.

"So he's her boyfriend," Butch shrugged.

Oswald slammed his hands on the table, "HE'S NOT HER BOYFRIEND! He's taking advantage of her situation! I will not have him hurt her!"

"So what are you gonna' do boss?"

Oswald looked straight ahead. "What I must to keep my promise. I'll not let him hurt her."

~O.o~

Edward was leaving work the following evening when he was grabbed. A short car ride later the bag that had been placed over his head was removed after he was pushed down into a chair. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the man seated across from him.

"Cobblepot," Nygma said, smiling for show.

"Nygma. I know what you're doing," Oswald said, matter of fact. He sat, his fingers interlaced over his lap, a dangerous calm in his eyes.

"And what am I doing, exactly?" Edward feigned innocence.

"You're taking advantage of my Isabelle in her vulnerable state and I will not stand for it."

Edward chuckled. "Really? That's what this is about? I really shouldn't be all that surprised that you've got people watching her. She doesn't remember you. She's not yours. Let her go."

"If you hurt her in any way you will pay dearly for it." Oswald's voice did not falter a bit, his threat loud and clear.

Edward chuckled again, un-phased. "Oh, please. I couldn't possibly hurt her any more than you have. You're the reason she doesn't remember who we are in the first place. Those flowers you send her every week? Pa-the-tic."

"I mean it Nygma," Oswald hissed, unclasping his hands and pressing his palms on the wooden arms of his chair and leaning forward. "You do not want to cross me!"

"You can cease your threats. If you hurt me now, you hurt Isabelle too, seeing as she's my girlfriend. We're getting to know each other rather quickly, over movies and walks and talking every night on the phone." Edward was smiling as he said all of this, wanting a reaction he knew was inevitable from someone like Oswald. "And you know what else? I make her truly happy, I don't call her names and disrespect her at a public event, hurting her so much that I make her cry," Edward spat out the last part, the fight from the charity ball vivid in his mind.

Oswald was growing angrier by the second, reacting exactly the way Edward wanted him to, his hands now balled into fists. This man was taking advantage of the love of his life, but he was right, if Oswald did anything to hurt Edward it would end up hurting her, and that would mean him going back on his word. "I'll tell her Uncle Jim Gordon!" he finally said, "He and I are close you see."

"Well I guess you could, but, he does like me better than you. I'm safe. I work for the police department. I'm not a mob boss wannabe who's shown time and time again that he can't take care of one of the few things he professes to love. I'm the better choice. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very lovely young lady waiting for me to pick her up for dinner." At that he rose from his seat and turned from Oswald, leaving his rival fuming in his chair. Oswald was so utterly pissed off that his threats didn't phase Nygma and that Nygma had turned the tables on what was supposed to be Oswald having the upper hand in the situation, when one of his lackeys tried to tell him something he rose from his chair with a shout and proceeded to beat the man nearly to death with just a nearby umbrella.