Selina had to go. And it wasn't because she was running away. But she'd disappeared from a funeral service and Ivy was no doubt looking for her. Selina had made her choice, she wasn't scared of this, but Ivy finding out was not an option. It was too much too fast. Sure, Ivy was in her own relationship with a civilian, and Harley was wonderful, but she wasn't the Prince of Gotham. Selina trusted Ivy with her life, but this was something she had to keep hidden, at least for now.
"I've gotta go. There will be people looking for me," Selina said by way of goodbye. Wayne raised an eyebrow.
"When you say things like that, it makes me very nervous."
"And while I appreciate the honesty, these aren't the scary people. Its only one person."
"Can you give me their name?"
"Her name's Ivy, and she is going to wonder where I've been." Selina said after the briefest hesitation. She wanted this, she'd told him so, and it wouldn't do any good to keep this from him. Besides, there were thousands of women named Ivy in the city.
"What are you going to tell her?"
"I'm going to make something up," Selina said pointedly. "I don't think you can handle more than one criminal in your life right now, and if you think I'm crazy, you have another thing coming."
"Seriously?" Wayne said, smiling a little now. Selina would never understand why telling him these things made him so happy, but every time she mentioned her life outside of Wayne Manor, he lit up.
It was cute.
"Believe me," Selina said, smiling herself now. "You haven't seen anything until you see Ivy's special brand of nuts. And part of that brand is suspicion bordering on paranoia, because, like you've said, I have a bad habit of running away." Selina didn't deny it. If it ever came down to a choice between standing her ground and saving her own skin, she would always choose to live.
She kissed him goodbye in the garage, insisting that she knew her way out. Selina didn't need to be walked to the door.
"Miss Selina," Alfred said, stopping her before she could slip out the back. Selina turned to him slowly, glaring the old butler down. Whatever she felt for Wayne, her affections didn't extend to Alfred. "If I may."
"It's your house, Jeeves," Selina said coolly.
"Don't you mean it's Master Wayne's house?" Alfred said with a wry smile.
"I think we both know better than that. What do you want."
"First to offer my apologies," Alfred said, surprising her. "I know that it was my curiosity that drove you away and I am sorry for it."
"I'm not interested," Selina said harshly. She had no doubt that he was sincere, but Selina was already putting her life on the line by being here. She wasn't willing to give up any more pieces of herself of satiate his curiosity. "Is that all?"
"No," Alfred said, his features carefully composed through Selina could tell that he was disappointed. "I also have this." He handed her an old brass key that hung on a metal chain. "If you will be visiting us often, I think you should have one."
"That's a little forward of you," Selina said offhandedly, inspecting the key. "And this doesn't match the front or back door." It was antiquated and too big for either of those locks.
"Quite right. This is an old house, and there are tunnels in the foundation that were used in the Underground Railroad. There's an entrance in a shed on the north side of the property. It leads into the basement of the manor." It was a good idea. Selina had been worried about people seeing her coming and going, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
"And you ran this by Wayne?"
"I doubt that he will object if it is for your safety. He does worry about you, Miss Selina. We both do." Selina scowled, her eyes narrowing.
"I didn't need your apology and I don't need your concern," she said coldly. "I can take care of myself."
"Absolutely. But set an old man's mind at ease." Selina took the key and stashed it in her pocket. "If you wish, I could show you the entrance now."
"I'll pass. I've got places to be." Without another word, Selina showed herself out. She was being cold and she knew it, but Selina was there for Wayne, not to become best buds with his doorman.
Thankfully, Ivy wasn't waiting for her at home. Selina was exhausted, and lying to Ivy wasn't something she wanted to do. At least not tonight. The thought of keeping things from her made Selina's chest pang with guilt.
It had been a long day. Selina didn't waste any time, flipping on the television in the living room and going straight to bed. With the nightly news providing soft ambient noise, she quickly fell asleep.
And woke to someone banging on her door. Three knocks, a pause, then two more, a code she and Ivy had established years ago.
"I don't know if anyone told you, but thieves are nocturnal," Selina said, answering the door in a sports bra and pajama shorts.
"It is one in the afternoon," Ivy said humorlessly, pushing into the apartment.
"Which is why I'm surprised you're up," Selina replied, closing the door and trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Where's the fire?" Ivy was pacing and antsy, even more so than usual.
"He's out," Ivy said through clenched teeth. "Jerome's out." Selina's blood went cold and suddenly she wasn't tired anymore. It was like when Alfred had pounded on her chest, restarting her heart and sending blood pumping to her brain.
"Shit. Are you sure?"
"I've got a buddy at Blackgate who let me know. He was released on good behavior." Selina snorted.
"Good behavior my ass." Jerome was a nasty piece of work. He used to live in the local fairgrounds on the outskirts of Lee Park. The carnies were his family, so no one was surprised that he was a little twisted. Then again, no one thought that the circus boy who was a little more than messed up would go and off his own mom.
The grounds were a haven for young, up-and-coming criminals, so Selina and Ivy had spent a good chunk of time there a few years back. But the both of them had a history with the place – and Jerome – that went deeper than that. "Shit," Selina repeated, dragging her hand down her face. "I never thought we'd see that nutcase again." Ever since his arrest for the murder of his mother, Jerome had been bounced from jail cells and mental institutions. Until now that is. Selina had been monitoring Jerome's whereabouts since he was arrested, just keeping tabs out of the corner of her eye.
"You think?"
"What are we going to do?" Selina asked. "He never found out, did he?"
"God I hope not," Ivy said, winding her fingers through her hair anxiously. "Because if so, then you and I are in a whole new world of trouble."
"Speaking of," Selina said, hearing her phone ring. It wasn't a number she recognized, but Selina had a bad feeling and answered anyway. "Hello?"
"Selina. I was told I could reach you on this number."
"Ah, Mr. Cobblepot," Selina said and Ivy's eyes went wide. "I'm glad you called this time."
"Well when I drop in unannounced you have a tendency to slice up my men, and I'd like to keep them intact for the moment."
"What can I do for you?" Selina said, quickly getting to the point. Men like Oswald Cobblepot didn't make social calls.
"As you might have heard, a young man named Jerome was released from prison." Selina bit her lip to stifle a groan. Speak of the fucking devil and he shalt appear, wasn't that the way it always went?
"Put it on speaker," Ivy hissed and Selina nodded, putting her finger to her lips and pressing the speaker button.
"This is Gotham," Selina said cavalierly. "Lots of people are in prison, that means lots of people get released."
"Yes, but there's something special about this one. If I'm not mistaken, you two are of a similar age. I'd like you to bring him in." Jesus Christ, bring him in? The Penguin sounded like something out of a bad spy movie. "I think Mr. Maroni would find him very useful."
"You mean that you and Gerard think so," Selina said, a weight settling on her chest.
"Oh no, I think it best that my business partner not know about this little venture."
"I'm not Maroni," Selina reminded him. "I can't just waltz onto your side of town without getting a bullet in the head."
"You may not be Maroni," the Penguin said, his voice taking on a hard edge, "but you work for me, Selina. Let's not forget that just a whisper from me to any one of your Falcone friends, and you will have nowhere to hide. Even if our arrangement goes south, Gerard and I have protection. Can you say the same?" Ivy swore and Selina had to snatch the phone and hold it to her ear to keep him from hearing.
"What do you want?"
"For you to facilitate a meeting. Mr. Maroni has been interested in young Jerome for some time. I'll text you a location and you'll bring him there. Complete the assignment, and you'll be paid very well. I understand that he's a bit of a firecracker." Cobblepot had no idea.
"Send me the information. What's the timetable?"
"I think today will do nicely. I'll see you in a few hours." Cobblepot hung up and Selina swore violently, whipping the phone across the room.
"He wants you to bring Jerome to Maroni?" Ivy screeched. "Does he know that kind of crazy Jerome's got running around in that creepy head of his?" Probably. Now that Selina thought about it, there was a very good chance that Cobblepot knew exactly what had happened between her and Jerome four years ago and was using it as an excuse to bury her. But she didn't have a choice. If she didn't do this, she was dead. And if she did, there was a very good chance that Jerome would kill her anyway. If he knew, anyway. Which was possible, but Selina honestly wasn't sure. She hadn't ever expected to see the psycho ever again, let alone try to recruit him for one of the families. And not even the one she worked for.
"I better get changed," Selina said, hearing her phone ring once for a text message.
"Changed?" Ivy repeated, arching an eyebrow.
"If he does know what we did, I think it's best that I don't look like the raggedy fourteen year old he remembers." The last time he'd seen her, Selina had been a tiny string bean of a teenager, wearing baggy, patched clothing that hung off of her frame like loose skin. She'd just gotten into bona fide thieving, though most of her jobs were still car jackings. When she emerged from her room twenty minutes later, there was no trace of that skinny fourteen year old.
"Damn girl," Ivy said, whistling. "When did you learn how to dress yourself?"
"Oliver taught me," Selina said. "Fish too." Fish had been moaning over the state of her wardrobe since they met, and insisted on taking Selina shopping. Selina had pushed back at first, but it seemed like the swanky clothes were about to pay off.
Her hair, usually a wild dirty-blonde bird's nest, was combed, falling in neat waves to her shoulders. The baggy clothes were gone, replaced by a thin black T-shirt and an old leather jacket, matched with jeans and short boots with the smallest of heels. Fashionable, but functional enough that she could stash several weapons and still make a clean getaway. "You'd be surprised how many places you can just waltz right into when you don't look like a gutter rat." Selina said, laughing at the incredulity on Ivy's face.
"Babe, I know I've said this before, but you're hot." Ivy said, looking her up and down.
"Your approval means everything to me," Selina said, sticking out her tongue.
"The outfit is good, but let me fix your makeup," Ivy offered. Quickly, she sat Selina down, drawing a black line over the top of her eyelids and thickening her lashes with mascara. Ivy handed her some dark red lipstick and stood back, looking pleased. "Wow. You look like a person."
"And you're a brat. Now I have to go court a mother-murdering sociopath and hope he doesn't kill me on sight."
"I'm coming with you." Ivy said, hanging Selina the phone she'd thrown across the room.
"Absolutely not," Selina said quickly. "If he knows, then we're both in danger and I'm not letting him have a shot at both of us. I'm not much of a believer in 'two birds, one stone.'"
"Where are you going? The Penguin very conveniently didn't let you know where he'd be."
"Come on. If you were him, where would you go?"
"The fairgrounds," Ivy said. "Oh God, I didn't think we'd ever have to go back there."
"You don't have to go back, I do. I'll be home in a few hours."
"Take this," Ivy said, pushing a syringe into her hand. "If anything happens, you jam this into his neck and run. It'll put him out and we can make a plan from there."
"I'm not going to need it," Selina said, with certainty she didn't feel.
"Sel, remember that little chat we had about you not being allowed to die before I do? Just don't be a pain in the ass for once and take it, okay? If you're going to have a chat with the psycho, you might as well be armed."
"Fine," Selina conceded. "And I'm always armed." She pulled her sleeves down, revealing two knives pressed against the skin of her inner arms. "You like?" Selina had been working on the sheaths for a while now, tinkering and tweaking so that with a twist of her wrist the knives were deposited into her hands. "And before you ask, I stole the design from Assassin's Creed." Selina had made some adjustments so that the knives were actually released as opposed to just sticking out of her sleeves, but the concept was the same.
"They're awesome. Be safe, you nerd."
The fairgrounds were the same as Selina remembered: Old, windswept, and half-abandoned. How the circus has survived this long was beyond her. If the cash flow was as bad as it looked, the place should have gone under years ago.
"You know," Selina said loftily, spotting an unpleasantly shock of familiar ginger hair by one of the tents. "Most people wouldn't come back to the circus. Even people who've been in prison for as long as you have." Jerome turned around to face her and Selina felt her stomach churn unpleasantly. He'd been a creepy, scrawny teenager the last time she'd seen him, but he'd grown up a lot since then. Prison had filled him out, and he'd grown to well over six feet. Suddenly, Selina was glad for Ivy's syringe in her pocket.
"I know you," Jerome said, and for half a second, Selina might have believed that he was normal. Then he smiled, showing teeth, and it looked like his face was splitting in half. Selina had forgotten how much she hated his smile. It made his skin look tight and waxy, like he was wearing a mask. A horrifying carnival mask where there should have been a young man's face. "Miss Alleycat, all grown up. For a skinny kid, you got pretty."
"You're not looking too bad yourself," Selina said, cursing for the thousandth time for going by that moniker when she was fourteen. It didn't look like he was going to snap, but Selina had seen firsthand how quickly his temper could explode. "So tell me, how was Blackgate? I here that they've got my number down in that hellhole."
"Not as bad as it could be. It was the psych ward at juvie that was the real bitch." The smile lessened and Selina was reminded of how well he could intimidate a real person. Jerome had been seventeen when they'd taken him in, and had spent a year in juvenile detention before he killed a fellow inmate out of the blue, spent the rest of his time in a padded room, and then was transferred to Blackgate when he turned eighteen. Not unlike what had happened to Ivy, now that Selina thought about it. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this? Not to see little old me, surely."
"You missed a few things while you were doing time," Selina said, inspecting her nails, the essence of calm. "You've heard of reapers, yes?" For his part, Jerome's eyes went wide. It was a very human reaction, and he was excellent at faking it.
"Little Selina, the car jacker, working as an elite thief? Color me impressed. Although I can't say that I'm surprised. You were always very good at this."
"So were you." For a distorted psychopath, he was very good at pretending not to be. Until he lost it and murdered someone in cold blood. Which didn't seem like it was about to happen, but you never knew. "And reapers don't just steal. We're messengers of sorts, and in high demand." Selina swallowed hard, thinking of her people gunned down in the street. "You might have heard that it's open season."
"If you're a messenger, then what's your message?"
"Someone wants to meet with you. They've got a job opportunity for you."
"And you think I should take it."
"I don't have an opinion on that," Selina said lightly. "I'm being paid to bring you in. What you choose to do after that is up to you." Selina wanted to roll her eyes, hearing the words leave her mouth. Now she was sounding like something out of a bad spy flick.
"Did you prepare that speech?" Jerome asked, smiling horribly. "It's very James Bond. Does that make you a Bond Girl?"
"No, that would be you. If anyone's Bond, it's me." Selina turned and started to walk away. She knew that Jerome would follow. He was fresh out of prison and needed shelter and a means of supporting himself. Besides that, he was curious. And so Jerome followed her, a little behind but not enough to be suspicious, until they reached the location that Cobblepot had sent her. The small, nondescript coffee house was within walking distance of the circus grounds, and Selina wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.
"Interesting," Jerome said, seeing the Penguin waiting for them inside. "I thought you were a Falcone girl, Selina."
"Free agent. With all the shit going down with the families lately, it's safer not to be attached."
"Ah Jerome," Cobblepot said, sipping his tea and looking pleased. "I have heard so much about you. Please, sit down." He looked up at Selina, smiling. "Thank you, my dear. A deposit will be made the usual way."
"Great to see you Jerome," Selina lied. "Enjoy being on the outside. Oh," she said, staring the Penguin down. "Before I go, quick question."
"Ask away."
"Who ordered the hit on the reapers?" It was a long shot that he'd even answer, but it had been eating at Selina. If Maroni had put the hit out, Cobblepot would know.
"I'm afraid you're not going to like the answer," he said, the smile turning unpleasant.
"I don't like my people being shot at."
"It was Falcone. For reasons we have yet to understand, Falcone put the hit out on his own men. The bombing of some of his most valuable fiscal partners was less than twenty-four hours after that, if I'm not mistaken." Selina blinked, trying to understand. She considered herself a professional liar, and thought that she was pretty good at spotting one. But Cobblepot wasn't lying. But this was too much. What was he saying? That the bombing and the hit were related? "You look distressed, Selina. There's a frown on that pretty face of yours." The Penguin turned back to Jerome. "I hope you don't mind us, I'm afraid we're being terribly rude."
"No, keep going." Jerome said eagerly. "This is the most interesting thing to happen today. I could use a laugh." Selina wanted to stab him and Ivy's syringe was growing warm in his pocket.
"What are you saying?" Selina said through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I'm not saying anything," Cobblepot said, lacing his fingers together. "But what I know for sure is that Mr. Maroni had no part in killing your people. And I'm just suggesting the interesting coincidence that one of the richest families in Gotham – one that has been laundering money for Falcone for years – was attacked the next day." Selina reeled. She'd been told that the attacks were Maroni, that Falcone was going to protect them…but if Cobblepot was telling the truth, and Selina could swear that he was –
The city had been preparing for a war between the families for years. But now the first shots had been fired, and Falcone had been the one to fire them. On his own people.
I know I said I was going to be posting on Fridays but this all just kind of wrote itself and I am very excited about it. Enjoy!