Warning: This chapter contains mild reference to an abusive relationship.

CHAPTER 3: One Night in Stockholm

Victor hovered over her, grinning with delight. He fondled a nasty looking set of restraints, pleading with Oswald to let him 'correct' their guest. "I don't think those will be necessary tonight" Oswald's qualifier reminded her that he was in charge, and her safety depended upon his mood. She was grateful he had given her a choice and nodded obediently. "Good" he sneered, patting her hand gently - a mock civility that only humiliated her further after the failed escape. He motioned for Victor to leave the room, as he leaned in closer to her, determined to uncover her secrets.

"Now, tell me all about these...connections in Metropolis" he was always hungry for information or new people to exploit. He wanted to extend his domain as far as he could and he was curious to know what she could offer him. Her answer surprised him: "Not much to tell. It's probably my ex." her tone fell flat, she loathed having to remember. "He's a trust fund baby with too much time on his hands." Oswald was intrigued by her lack of affection in this admission. He tried to press her to continue, "He must still be sweet on you" She shot him a sharp glance and harshly responded "I guarantee he'll lose interest when he finds a new girl to beat up" She winced, remembering how he had tried to buy back her affection after she had 'accidentally' received another black eye. "I'd rather spend a night with Victor than keep talking about this" her voice was filled with bitter resentment.

It was not a love lost between them, but a hasty escape when she moved to Gotham. She was actually feeling grateful that Oswald had snatched her up, locking her away from the outside world and all of its problems. She couldn't imagine going back to her old life. If he found out where she was, she'd have to run all over again. She would rather be dragged through hell then submit to his twisted shows of affection with bruises and beat downs.

Oswald watched her features carefully as she described her tumultuous past. He had certainly killed for a sandwich, but he had never struck a woman. Even if he needed to, he couldn't possibly bring himself that low. Killing was one thing, but he despised physical abuse. Probably a remnant of his own childhood torments. He wanted to reassure her of his intentions: "Despite what you may think of me...I am a gentleman first and foremost." There was a genuine sincerity in his voice, followed by devout tenderness, "I would never let anyone hurt you." He let his finger linger on her chin, trying to console her doubts. His display of emotion had caught her off guard, only a few hours ago he had tackled her to the floor and threatened her with his knife. His intentions were difficult to read, was this real or merely an attempt at manipulating her into submission?

The stress of her failed escape commingled with news of her ex left her exhausted and desperate for answers. She turned to him, their faces inches apart, she blurted out her thoughts in desperation: "What do you want from me?" Oswald was struck by her forwardness. He clasped her hands, uncertain how to proceed. He thought it had been perfectly clear what he had wanted. From the moment he saw her walking in the street, he had been entranced. His mother had warned him about the hussies, the devil women, the desperate shrews, but she had never impressed upon him the danger of love at first sight. A trite sentiment to some, but to Oswald it was everything. It was as if his heart had been plucked out of his chest, and he had no other choice but to follow it in the hopes of someday making himself whole again.

Perhaps he had been too impatient to try and take her, forcing her to share his affections. He had designed a plan to woo her with power and money, but his attempts failed to leave a lasting impression. For the first three weeks she was in his care, he cooed to her in foreign tongues, offering the best wines he could afford to get his hands on - but still she remained discontent. He wanted to confess his devotion, but was paralyzed by the thought of rejection, despite her captive state. Oswald could exhibit saint-like patience in business, but when it came to his personal affairs, he let his desires get the best of him. He couldn't deny the details of her past, drawing parallels between his approach and the man she was currently running from.

He had made a terrible mistake.

He had pursued her in the worst possible way. Each day spent without her consent only pushed her further away from him. He faintly remembered his pet canary from private school. His stomach turned as he remembered how the caged bird would never sing for him. Even when he crushed its body in his hand, it remained defiant in its silence. The only sound it ever made was the crunching of bones under the weight of his fist. Oswald recognized his only choice.

"I-" he stammered, unwilling to let her go but forcing himself to dedicate his budding convictions out loud. "I just want you to be happy." He surrendered his juvenile fantasy of a happy romance between them. He couldn't force her to love him, and he couldn't bear to see her end up like his childhood pet. The tears started to fill his eyes but he choked them back. He wouldn't give her another reason to think any less of him. The thought of letting her go was almost too much for him to endure, but he knew that he couldn't win. His powers of persuasion only worked to destroy those around him, they failed at inspiring genuine affection.

"You are no longer my captive. You are-" he paused again, finding the words harder to utter out loud "free to leave." He swallowed hard, preparing for her hasty departure. He turned his back from her, trying to conceal his distraught expression. "I'll have Gabriel escort you home" it was his feeble attempt to make amends. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, he knew he would change his mind if he did. As he reached for the door, her voice halted him "Wait-" it wasn't a command, but a plea.

His lips trembled as he turned to face her, his stoic resolve was close to crumbling. "Yes?" he forced a polite smile that pained him more than she could ever know. She had assessed her options and leaving him now would posit a stronger risk for falling back into the hands of her ex. She hated to admit to herself that she had enjoyed her time being swept away from public life, albeit not in a cramped room above the club. She acknowledged the absurdity of her realization but it was safer to stay with Oswald.

"Do you think I could stay?" His features held a look of bewilderment, was she trying to torture him? He had released her and now after all of her determination to escape, she wanted to stay with him. "Not here, of course...but maybe at your place?" She knew it sounded insane, he would probably refuse. He had only kept her at the club as some sort of amusement. He wouldn't want to actually take her into his home. She silently rationalized the unlikeliness of him granting her request. Disbelief painted his pale features as he attempted to comprehend her motive. "Are you quite certain?" He had already resigned to let her go once, he didn't suspect he would be strong enough to go through it again. She wanted to give him a reason that would plainly justify her intent, "I would feel safer with you."

Oswald's heart overflowed, he was grateful to be given the role of protector. His thoughts raced with the possibility of winning her affections in a proper manner. He was rarely given an opportunity to be viewed as anything less than villainous.

He flicked on the lights to his apartment. As he gently guided her inside he whispered "Welcome home."