Partners in Crime (Oswald Cobblepot x reader)

2

Oswald crept slowly across the roof of the warehouse, gun in hand. He was tense, knowing Fish could appear at any moment. As he approached the corner of the wall he had been walking parallel to, she struck. He found himself pinned against an adjacent pillar, Fish using a metal pipe as leverage against his chest. He swung one end around to hit her across the face and as she recoiled, he grabbed the makeshift weapon and began his assault. She was able to get a decent punch in, knocking him backward and sending the pipe flying from his grasp. Now locked in close combat, they both seemed to pull each other toward the ledge.

Fish was the first one to notice another presence joining them, standing silently about ten feet back and holding the gun Oswald had dropped. "Butch!" she exclaimed, "About time."

"Shoot her, Butch!" Oswald yelled.

"Oh really?" she hissed, their faces mere inches apart.

"Do as I say, Butch!" Oswald continued, "Shoot her!"

Fish, noticing her former second in command's hesitation, yelled, "What are you doing? Jump him!"

"My friend, remember your training," Oswald interjected, "I order you to shoot her."

"Butch, don't listen to him," Fish insisted, "They did something to your mind. I'm your girl. Remember I'm your girl."

"Kill her now!" Oswald exclaimed.

Butch, clearly in distress, shot Fish in the leg, then did the same to Oswald.

"Oh my god, what did I do?" he cried, ambling over to Fish, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I won't ever hurt you, I love you Fish."

That was my opportunity. I snuck out from the doorway to the roof, where I had watched this last part of the scene unfold. Oswald was still writhing on the ground where he had fallen and the other two were sufficiently distracted. I noiselessly picked up the discarded pipe and began to creep up behind Butch.

"It's okay," Fish consoled him, "It's not your fault, I love you too. They messed with your mind, it's not your fault. I'm gonna be fine, you know me." With that, I swung the pipe at the side of his head like a pinch hitter with two strikes.

He collapsed and the gun skittered across the ground. I was worried Fish might go after it but her attention was now on Oswald, who was up and in a fighting stance a few feet in front of her.

"Goodbye, Fish!" he snarled.

Attempting to diffuse the situation, she cautiously offered, "It's all good." Oswald was having none of it. He charged at her and in a split second, she was falling over the edge into the icy water below.

"No!" Butch screamed in agony. I took that opportunity to retrieve the gun that no one else seemed to notice. Butch stared, still in shock, as Oswald climbed atop the ledge, victorious.

He stared at the Gotham skyline in silence for a moment before letting out a relieved laugh. "I'm the king of Gotham!" he proclaimed, "I'm the king of Gotham!" He fell silent again and took a deep breath.

"The king of Gotham should probably get down from there before he ends up like Fish," I remarked. Both men turned to me in surprise, as if they had forgotten about my presence.

"You know," Oswald began as he cautiously got down from the wall, "I told you to wait for me."

"I thought you might need help," I said, "and it looks like you did."

"I can't say I'm not grateful," he replied, wincing slightly and holding onto the wall for support, just now beginning to feel the pain of his gunshot wound.

"Here," I said, crouching in front of him and beginning to roll up his pant leg, "Let me take a look at that."

The bullet had struck just below his knee and only grazed his calf. The wound wasn't as deep as I expected and the bleeding had mostly stopped already. "Do you think I need to go to the hospital?" he inquired.

"No," I concluded, "You don't even need stitches." He breathed a sigh of relief. With that, I stood up and put my arm around his waist, and he placed his around my shoulders. I began to help him walk back toward the door. We stepped around Butch, who was now a sobbing mess. I didn't think he would pose a threat, but I still kept my eyes on him until Oswald and I made it to the staircase and I shut the door behind us.

As we moved down the stairs at barely a snail's pace, I surveyed the room. Dead bodies littered the floor and apparently the survivors had already fled. We were alone in the vast, silent room.

We sat down on the second to last step. Unsure of what to say next, I instead pulled out my phone and called a cab for us. I supplied an address that was about a block away, for safety purposes. The last thing we needed was an extra witness.

After I hung up, Oswald turned to face me. "Thank you," he said, "For everything."

I grinned. "You're welcome," I replied.

"What do you plan to do after all this?" he queried, "Since, you know, I killed your boss."

I hadn't even thought about that. "I guess I'm not sure," I answered honestly.

"May I make a proposition?" he followed up.

"You may," I replied.

"We can be partners," he suggested, "Actual partners, I mean. Not in Maroni's sense of the word."

"Agreed," I said, not even needing to deliberate. He held out his hand and I shook it, sealing the deal.

"So," I began with a smile, "Does this make me the queen of Gotham?"