I own nothing but Nicki.

Chapter 31

"Your lips are like wine and I want to get drunk."

Oswald slammed the door to the kitchen behind him and leaned against it. With his sleeve, he swiped furiously at the sticky wine on his face and then regarded his sleeve in disgust. He wanted to shout, but instead stifled himself with a gulp of the whiskey. It burned much more than he thought it would and he was sent into a coughing fit, managing to keep most of it down, but feeling some of it leak from his lips.

What a mess.

He could feel hot tears threatening to push their way from his tightly closed eyes and he hated it. He hated this place, and he hated how embarrassed he was, and he hated how disgusting the alcohol felt on his face, and his hair, and his suit. His best suit. The first suit his mother had bought him after skimping and saving. And more than anything else, he hated…Fish…Mooney.

He took another giant swig of the whiskey, this time prepared for the burn, relishing it even. And then as he fought to steady himself. He held the bottle at eyelevel and felt a new feeling come over him. His rage subsided and he felt an icy calm run through his veins as he thought about breaking the bottle. Taking one of the broken glass shards and going back to Mooney's table. Using it to slice her smug face before burying it in her-

You'll never do it. The voice came from the back of his mind, purring like that familiar voice he knew so well. Hated so much. Coward.

With a blind rage he felt his throat clench in an animalistic growl as he pulled his arm back, ready to send the bottle flying across the room-

When suddenly the door moved behind him, opening and sending him sprawling on the floor.

With a yelp, he tumbled to his hands and knees, the bottle rolling away from him, not breaking, barely spilling.

"Oh my-Oz I'm so sorry," said the last voice he wanted to hear right now. Or at least the second to the last. After Fish.

Oswald clambered to his feet and turned to face Nicki and her horrible look of sympathy. He didn't want her to see him like this. And he definitely didn't want her looking at him like that. He could feel his face burn under his matted hair.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Fine." Oswald knew he had given her a curt response and he felt he should be ashamed when he saw her face fall a little. It felt admittedly good to throw her pity back in her face though. How kind of her majesty, the mafia princess to come check on her lowly…

Nicki's face hardened and he was surprised to see her shake her head angrily and start to move past him. Should he apologize? He didn't want to, at all. But the more logical part of his brain was definitely indicating that it was a good idea to. Before he could finish his internal debate, however, she had picked up the fallen whisky bottle and rounded on him.

"I can't believe her," she hissed, examining the bottle to see how much was left. "I mean, where does she get off thinking she can just treat people like that?"

Oswald felt himself calm a little. "We'll show her," he said in a low voice. "That….bitch."

As soon as the word left his mouth he had to fight to hold his resolve. The part of him his mother had raised was appalled by the term. But God did it feel good to say. Even the look of shock on Nicki's face wasn't enough to squash the satisfaction he felt from it. The venom and the snap of the consonants, he relished it.

Nicki eyed him strangely for a moment before raising the bottle to her lips and taking a swig from it, her nose wrinkling at the taste. She thrust the bottle out towards him as if it were the most unpleasant thing she'd ever encountered. "Here," She encouraged him. "I've had enough."

Oswald moved to cross to her, and discovered that the task was a little easier said than done. He had to sidestep to keep on his feet and realized that he would not have been able to walk a straight line if his life depended on it. Nicki's lips quirked in good natured amusement. "It looks like you have too."

Oswald grimaced at the comment, and her face sobered. She put the bottle down on the counter and grabbed a clean wash cloth off of a rack by the sink, running it under water and instructing him to have a seat. Oswald thought about protesting but couldn't resist the idea of not standing any longer. He clumsily sat down in a nearby chair and let his head loll back, closing his eyes and feeling the world spin around him.

He heard the sink stop running. Heard her light footsteps pad over to him. And felt her presence. Felt the warm wash cloth press against his face. He let his eyes slide open and saw that she was only inches from him, wiping at the sticky residue coating his cheekbones. It reminded him of when he had been sick and she had come to visit him. Only this time was different. Something about the way her eyes were trained on his face, and the way her other hand was pressed against his chest, made his heart beat a little faster. Her eyes roamed his face as she gently wiped away the wine from his cheeks, his nose. And then she did something that made his blood run hotter than it had moments before, but this time for an entirely different reason.

Her eyes drifted to his forehead, but the wash cloth did not follow. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her hands on either side of his face and lightly kissing him there. He closed his eyes. As she started to pull back, his hands flew up to hers before he could even think to stop them. She paused at his reaction, peering into his eyes and he ducked his head, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. Damn this booze and its effects on his-

Her hand slipped under his chin and tilted his head to meet hers. Then, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. He immediately moved his hands to her hair, securing her in place as he felt the world fall away around them. All that existed was the two of them.

Her body moved and she slipped onto his lap, deepening the kiss. Oswald's hands immediately went to her waist. His fingers felt their away along her body as if they had a mind of their own and he allowed it to happen. He could feel her soft fingertips slide down his jaw, down his neck, one hand pressed to his collar bone as her other one tangled into his matted hair at the nape of his neck. With a small moan, he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together, his tongue touching her lips, her lips parting-

BANG

Oswald leapt to his feet, dumping Nicholetta into the floor and almost knocking himself off balance as well as the door flew open to reveal a very imposing, and very shocked Butch.

For a moment, no one said a word. Butch looked as though his eyes might fall right off his head and Oswald's jaw had gone slack, unable to explain or defend the situation. Nicki, who was surveying all of this from the floor, was the first to recover.

"Well," she said, as indignantly as she could manage. "Which of you gentleman is gonna help a girl back on her feet?"

Oswald stole a glance between her and the still frozen Butch and moved to offer her his hand, not missing the burning cheeks on the girl he was assisting. Before she could take his hand, however, Butch had come to his senses and was coming towards them both like a bull. "I think you've done enough, penguin." He snapped the last word with the same venom Oswald had used when he had called Miss Mooney a bitch. And it was more of a slap to the face this time than it had ever seemed to be before. Oswald stepped back to let Butch pull the blushing girl to her feet. She was embarrassed. Of course she is embarrassed, his inner voice hissed. She just got caught kissing you of all people.

As Nicki stood back up, she swayed in her intoxicated state, just a little, but enough for the imposing man holding her to notice. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in to scrutinize her face. "Are you drunk?"

"No'm'fine," she slurred, before shaking her head, as if to clear it. "No. I'm. Fine." She tried again, this time over enunciating the words.

Butch glared at Oswald and grabbed the front of his shirt in his meaty hand. "This is low, Penguin, even for you."

"I wasn't-I wasn't taking advantage-" Oswald had found his voice and it was working quickly and furiously.

"Save it." Butch let go with a shove, causing Oswald to stumble back. He watched helplessly as the Goliath of a man walked Nicki from the room. Just before they passed through the doorway, she looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze, cheeks pink and eyes full of apologies. And then Oswald was left alone.

N-Replicant: Agh! Thank you for looking at my theory! I guess it's because I have a thing for underdogs but I have been so adamant about how effective Oswald is for Gotham from the beginning. I LOVE your theory about him being like a "first Joker" too! I never would have thought about that but it totally makes sense. There is such a difference between the mob boss bads and the real villains.