Down the rabbit hole we go, ladies and gents! Enjoy!
Chapter 12
Slowly and with a firm hand, Victor carved and molded Sophie into someone completely different, and less vulnerable than she'd ever been. He changed her from her head to her toes, yet deeper still, and all the changes left Sophie feeling a thrill that she'd never felt before.
Her hair color and cut was radically different to her, the color being a platinum blonde she'd only ever seen on celebrity singers, and the cut was edgy, with a fringe of bangs in the front, and the front edges touching her collarbone, with the back coming to a curving end just above the nape of her neck.
By choice she received two new piercings in her ears; the diamonds he'd given her became a constant adornment, as well as her necklace, but to her ears she added two new gifted additions, a black skull and white gold skull. Everything she wore would be purposeful, a warning and a mark, and Sophie found she didn't mind one bit being marked as Victor Zsasz's. Her nails from her fingers to her toes were always done, and carefully kept. Her makeup wasn't heavy, but dark and striking, lending to a sharp persona.
Her wardrobe changed to those that were ensembles seen in only the nicer catalogues, and the scrubs she wore for her new occupation were form fitting but sharp and professional. Her shoes always shone, and uniforms were always cleanly lined. She sat straighter and walked with her head high, and she answered to a higher authority only because she wanted to. Sophie kept her apartment as an alternative safe house, but Victor soon introduced her to the place where the rest of his nice suits were kept. The place was full of dark grays and blacks, but it was silent and soothing, and smelled of him. His sheets were nearly silken in texture, and black where all of hers had been white.
When it was just them, those were the times she craved like an addict, and not for the reasons of letting down her guard. When she was home she could put her hair up in a pony tail, dress in one of his shirts and pad around his own wooden floors and make dishes that sometimes they'd get to enjoy together.
Victor was a different kind of beast now, and she had a buzzing thrill within her chest when he'd walk through the door and eye her platinum blonde hair up in its ponytail, her lazy garb, and his touch would be so reverent, and then so demanding. She'd smile all day long, thinking of teeth marks dotting her shoulder, or hidden in the shadow of her thighs. Inside these walls, she was Sophie, the Sophie he left intact, hidden underneath a carefully crafted character who was a liability to no one, least of all herself.
A car took her to the clinic now, and she was given free reign to order whatever she wanted, and notified whomever was on hand when she would need Francis' help. Francis' debt had also been transferred when Falcone retired, and Penguin took up the reigns. When he'd first seen the new her, waiting for him in scrubs that were so blue they were black within the clinic, he couldn't say anything.
"Let's get to work, Doctor Romalotti," she said smoothly.
"What did he do to you, Sophie?" Romalotti hissed as they scrubbed in.
"This is all me," she purred with confidence, and with that the man blushed and said no more.
The men she worked on were reverently respectful to her and Sophie was careful to put faces to names now. She had a work phone and a Zsasz phone, and both were kept on her person at all times.
Penguin liked to hold staff meetings often, and the first time Sophie attended one, she held a deep appreciation for Victor's choice in her new persona. Penguin seemed to favor blondes, made the girls he surrounded him with wear wigs if they weren't naturals, and wear tuxedo uniforms that lookin akin to Playboy mansion lingerie. She fit in seamlessly with the gaggle of them, albeit more clothed. When they met again after that night long ago, she immediately recognized that he didn't seem to recognize her, but said her name like trying to catch a memory, and there might have been a flicker of recognition when he saw the skulls in her ears.
Although their relationship was well known, it was not spoken of, and the two of them never touched in the presence of others, an unwavering demand of Victor's. Sophie had her suspicions as to that, but in her heart of hearts, she kept memories of his hand trembling just slightly when he'd touch her after time apart. Any great amount of time apart was heavy on them both, she noted with a soft pleasantness beneath her breast. His just led him to bouts of extreme violence, and hers with a quieter presence and less gentle touch.
Victor's new ensemble was always black on black now, and she bought him yellow gold skull pieces to offer some contrast to his uniformity. A suit jacket was a rare sight, as he wore his gun harness proudly and without subtlety, his pieces clean and shining on either side of his chest.
A text came through as she set a bone back into place. Her patient yelped and she shot him a blank look before stripping off her gloves and retrieving her phone. They were to meet at the boss' for "a nice dinner and announcement".
Sophie felt a devilish smile curve her lips, Victor had been making some appearances with Oswald as of late, and she knew just the outfit she would wear, and licked her lips as she anticipated his reaction. Another groan came from her surgical table, and Sophie's green eyes flickered over at the man, "You may go,"
The man nodded and slid off the table, leaving. She texted her ride and turned off the lights in the clinic, headed for home.
Hours later found her at Oswald's mansion, stepping out from the town car and straightening the suit jacket she wore. Sophie felt eyes on her as she made her way inside, smiling like a dare with a pale pink lipstick on her lips.
Her white tipped nails fingered her most recent purchase, an onyx skull the size of a small plum that hung on a yellow gold chain and fell to a few inches below her xiphoid process. Her black stilettos clicked as she walked effortlessly to the typical meeting room, and found that she'd probably taken too much time prepping for this moment.
Penguin was already there, and it was expected that he wait for no one, so she added some speed to her step and made her way to her appointed spot on the right side of the table, near the far end, at the end of the fleet of blondes Penguin kept. The boss kept talking as she found her spot, but she noticed his icy blue eyes follow the plunge of suit jacket and the bare skin there to the skull above her abdomen.
With a smile she couldn't help, her green eyes flashed to Victor and saw that he was in his typical spot at Oswald's right, and the muscles in his jaw and neck were jumping as he took in all the skin she was showing, the utter lack of bra, and she thanked the fashion gods for double sided tape.
Sophie winked at him in a typically outlawed display of affection and crossing her legs, smoothed out the black expanse of her slacks.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm happy to announce that there will be a new commissioner of the Gotham police force soon, and I daresay, this is only the beginning of good things for us! I am so pleased that this is all coming together!" Cobblepot ended with a snicker, and raised his glass.
Everyone smiled and raised their glasses in return, and then dinner was served.
Sophie caught a few mafiosi staring down her jacket as she sat there and made polite conversation, and her lips curled in amusement.
When dinner was over, or rather Oswald had finished his meal, people began to slowly trickle out. Sophie touched her napkin to her lips and stood, adjusting her jacket and picking her clutch up off the table. She eyed the young girl that the boss kept around as eyes and ears on the street pick the pocket of a mafiosi. Slowly she made her way to the head of the table where Oswald was smiling with pride at himself and gazing lustily at one of the young women to his right.
Standing just in front of Victor, she placed a manicured hand on Oswald's shoulder, "I'm very happy that things are happening as you wanted them to, Mister Cobblepot," she said with a flash of white teeth. Oswald smiled at her, so purposefully gazing at her face, "Sophie, you know you can call me Oswald. But thank you, thank you for sharing in my joy with me. This means good things for us!" he ended again with a giggle.
Sophie nodded and smiled, giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, and brushed past Victor, who was rigid and silent.
When she left, she had a swagger and sway to her step, and she climbed into her ride gracefully.
Oh tonight was going to be a sweet reunion, she mused. And in the darkness of the town car, Sophie laughed.
Victor was unhappy. Unhappy and mad as hell. Furious. Wound tight with rage. Heads had turned as she had entered, and heads had turned as she had left. And the way her hips had rolled with each step left half the men in the room changing their position in discomfort.
He'd given her this power, and he cursed himself.
Oswald had been staying his hand as of late, and it left Victor feeling….too full, and anxious.
Two of the girls approached Oswald and batted their eyelashes at him, and Victor knew the necessity of his presence was coming to an end.
One of the girls looked at him, curious as they all were, and he looked past her. She was nothing, and when Oswald tired of her, he would find a new girl.
She pouted a little before turning her attention completely back to Oswald, and Victor was acutely aware of the man's gestures and disappeared the moment the younger man waved him away, murmuring deviously to the women on his lap.
Victor left the room with long, angry strides, motioning for the doors to be closed behind him by guards standing in the hall. He took one of the cars outside back to his place, teeth grinding and fists gripping the steering wheel, while the muscles in his legs jumped and buzzed with adrenaline.
Victor plotted and cursed, and when he opened the front door, there she was.
The slacks were gone now, but her heels and the suit jacket remained, as did the onyx skull, a stark shadow against her ivory skin. Her green eyes were mischievous and glowing under her pale blonde bangs. Sophie stood on the other side of the black leather couch, fingers rolling the gold strand of her necklace between her fingertips, lips parted in a devilish smile in the dark of the room, only moonlight coming from a few windows to provide illumination.
Victor slammed the door behind him and nearly leapt at her.
"Your suit," he spat with distaste, "Was unacceptable,"
He prowled around the back of the couch, and on dainty heeled feet, she danced away, the edges of the jacket whispering against her thighs.
"I'd say the opposite," she purred.
"Don't play that role with me," Victor snapped, moving only to have her move again.
A palely dyed eyebrow quirked at him, knowing, but remaining silent.
"Your flirtation," he began moving again, and then stilled as she ran a manicured finger from the corner of her mouth down, and down.
"Mmm, yes, I do like to flirt with you, Mister Zsasz," she breathed.
"Unacceptable," he finished dryly, finding his anger and rage had turned into something else.
She blinked at him in the dark, waiting for him to move, but after moments of him unmoving, she strode toward him, the click of her heels sharp in the otherwise silent room.
Her lips were pursed just so as she undid his tie, and laid it on the couch. Her fingers moved to the snaps of his gun holsters next, and with care she set them aside. Next she was unbuttoning his shirt, and once his fists unclenched and rose to touch her, she lightly slapped them away.
Victor blinked at her, this creature he had created, and was at a loss. Sophie was pushing his shirt back and off him, then leaning forward and with a wicked tongue traced a path across his collarbone.
Her fingers were on his belt, but only to unbuckle it, and it left him straining and uncomfortable.
"How do you like my necklace?" Sophie asked, smoothing her hands over his chest, running fingernails over his tallies. Her breath fanned over his jaw and ear, and he quelled a desire to shudder.
"This is becoming tiresome, Sophie," Victor growled.
A finger dipped between his slacks and skin, teasing and sweeping.
"How do you like my necklace?" she repeated, and nipped at his earlobe.
He was silent for a long time before he answered, "It suits you."
Sophie's teeth bit and nipped at his deltoids, his sides, then she stepped back. Her eyes were luminous, and Victor worked at pulling off his shirt before he advanced on her again.
Her fingers were dancing over the buttons on the jacket, opening it ever so slowly, revealing her flesh to him, a sight he never tired of. Never ceased to cause a roar in his ears as his heart pumped blood at a vigorous pace.
"I like showing you my affection, others seeing that I am yours. It pleases me," she purred, letting the jacket fall open.
Sophie was bending then, to pluck off her strappy heels and kicking them off to the side.
"Let them know," she murmured, "Let them be jealous,"
Where oh where had Sophie Summers gone, Victor's brain questioned slyly, but there she was, it was in the softness now in her eyes as she padded up to him barefoot, shrugging off the jacket as she approached, wearing only that necklace.
Victor's hand raised, and felt the bird-like flutter of her pulse with his fingertips. If he desired to, he could at any moment remember her silhouette in the window across from his own back in that ramshackle neighborhood. The way his throat dried and his pulse raced as he watched her shadow contort and twist as she would change for the night. One day, he'd thought back then, she would be his.
Victor's fingers trailed down her neck, down her throat and breast, then with two fingers just above the skull that rested against her skin, he pushed her backwards, and together they quietly made their way into the bedroom, where soon it would be anything but quiet.
Not even quite a week had passed when in the dead of the night, phones were buzzing. Sophie raised her platinum blonde head from Victor's chest and blinked sleepily before reaching across him and grabbing their phones.
He took his silently and together they studied the message there, and then wordlessly they slipped out of black sheets, showered quickly and dressed.
Sophie had never been one to put any kind of effort into her hair, but this new Sophie wielded her flat iron with skill and efficiency, and she was ready just moments after Victor, and they left together.
They didn't speculate or even talk as he drove, but her hand rested on his thigh as she gazed out the window, gazing at the lights of Gotham.
When they made it to the house, Oswald was having a bit of a tantrum.
"Commissioner Essen is dead!" Penguin announced and threw a glass to the ground. Victor pulled out a chair for Sophie before they turned their attention the television the played in the room.
"And this, this kid is who we have to thank," Oswald spat, as the news station continued its top story in a loop, warning viewers of the graphic nature of what they were about to view.
Sophie watched as the young teenager with a shock of red hair shot police officers and laughed, his maniacal chortle sending goosebumps over her flesh underneath her black and green A-line dress. Victor was watching the screen hungrily, she realized when she glanced at him, watching the screen over Penguin's shoulder.
"They call themselves the Maniax, and I know nothing about them!" Oswald chimed, an angry smile on his face, and his tone unforgiving.
"Victor," the boss stated, turning to his right hand hitman, "If you would be so kind, I would like the word spread to our people to get me as much information on these meddling Arkham escapees as soon as possible!"
Victor nodded sharply, and with one last longing look at the television he was signaling his men out and leaving in a purposeful rush.
"They're really trying to screw things up for me," Oswald giggled unhappily, and grabbing a vase from the mantlepiece, threw it at the table.
Sophie flinched as porcelain pieces scratched their way down the large wooden table. One of the blonde beauties let out a cry and Sophie looked to see that a piece of said vase was sticking out of her cheek.
The girl began to shriek with pain and Sophie saw a dark rage flash over Penguin's face, so she was up and moving, grabbing the girl's arm and pulling her from the room, hissing at her to hush.
Sophie moved them to a bathroom, and shoved the girl down onto a white toilet. Turning on the faucet, Sophie began to grab towels and turned towards the girl.
"You need to calm down sweetie," she said with a honeyed, but firm voice.
The girl hiccuped, and large blue eyes looked up at Sophie, red rimmed and wet with tears.
"I'm going to get it out, and it's going to bleed alot," Sophie warned her, and touched the girl's bare shoulder gently.
The girl nodded and hiccuped again, and then Sophie was pulling, and the jagged piece came out of her cheek with a sharp tug and a rush of crimson blood.
"Hold this against it, hard," Sophie told the girl, and after tossing the piece of vase in the trash, grabbed the towels she gathered at the sink and then was pulling the girl off the toilet and out of the bathroom. Down the hall they went, and both women flinched as another piece of value was smashed against something. Sophie and the girl at her side caught sight of the remaining bevy of beauties hugging each other and standing against the far wall, watching Oswald with fear.
Sophie signaled one of the guards at the front door, "I need a ride to the clinic," she hailed him and with a nod, he disappeared and went to retrieve their ride.
When Sophie finished the last suture on the girl's face, she looked stoically at the girl's face as she was asked for a mirror. Handing the girl one from her own desk, Sophie plucked off her gloves and washed her hands.
"It won't scar, will it Doc?" the girl asked tearfully, touching her numb cheek curiously.
"I'm a nurse," she reminded the girl, "And there's a chance it might,"
Truth was the girl's place in Oswald's gallery of beauties was gone, and if her suspicions were correct, he got rid of them permanently once they were no longer of interest, or use.
Sophie texted someone to pick her up, and closed the door behind the girl and the guard sent to retrieve her. Sophie moved to her desk and turned on a small television that had been installed in the back of the building.
Sitting on her desk, Sophie watched Gotham plunge further into chaos, crazed laughter the soundtrack to its descent.