gotham stories

victor zsasz pt 1

 Victor sat there flipping the pages of the book in his hands he wasn't really reading it. Someone had left it on the table, his favorite table. He held it close to his face his nose picking up traces of a scent he had smelled before in passing. Victor glanced around no one stood out other than the guy at the counter spinning on the stool and the girl at the register asking a woman if she had small bills. He flipped through the pages again, no hidden messages. The waitress came by asking if he wanted to order anything else. Victor looked up at her frowning, he tapped the table and she dropped the bill on the table and scurried away. He had gone to the bathroom and came back to the table and the book was just sitting there. What the hell did it mean, was he supposed to read it?

He got up and walked to the register to pay for his meal. "Someone left this book on my table. Did you see who it was?"

She gave him a blank look, before responding, "Honey I see a lot of people come in and out with books, can you be more specific." Stupid woman, if I had specifics why would I waste time asking you, Victor kept his words to himself. He sniffed the book one last time committing the scent to memory. The cashier took the book and put it under the register's counter. As he was walking out, a young woman bumped into him she apologized profusely, afraid to make eye contact. He chuckled softly and kept walking.

You couldn't believe you panicked again, you've been doing this for weeks now. You'd sit down fully intending to chat with the mysterious bald man with the dark eyes. But then you'd chicken out at the last second. What's worse is this time you left your brother's book, behind. So you had to go back and face him, say actual words to him. Hurrying back to the diner you ended up running smack into him, you apologize profusely managing to avoid contact. He had kept walking, much to your relief.

You knew it was too much too hope for the book to be sitting at the table. Oh Lord, what if he had taken it with him, you went to the counter asking if anyone left a book. You felt a great sense of relief when the cashier handed you the book. Try again next week you thought to yourself as you started down the street, never noticing the dark eyes following your steps as you crossed at the intersection. Nor did you hear him chuckle softly to himself.

She hadn't come back to the diner, it had been three weeks, and Victor was annoyed. He had followed her home that night, his curiosity had been piqued. She lived within walking distance of the diner. When she bumped into him that night he remembered why the scent was familiar, pepper. She asked if he was using the pepper shaker at his table, her table was missing it. She had chattered a bit about liking pepper on her eggs, he had handed the pepper to her to make her go away. He remembered her blushing face, when he brushed his gloved fingers against her hand. The shy ones always blush the hardest and sometimes they were the naughtiest, he thought wistfully.

Regrettably, he had to leave for a job that night he would return to the diner periodically, but never saw her again until the book incident. He made sure she got home safely that night, he noted that she stayed in the well lit parts of the street, always checked her surroundings. But now he was sitting at his table playing with the pepper shaker, getting more annoyed by the minute. He practically snatched the bill out of the waitress' hand. Victor shoved the money in the cashier's hand and stomped out into the night, it didn't really surprise him that he was walking to her place.

 You smiled at the sleeping child, all tucked snug into his bed. Placing a kiss on your nephew's head you left the room quietly leaving the door open a crack. Hank was sitting at the kitchen table staring at the empty chair in front of him. Your heart hurt for him, you had offered to stay longer to help your big brother. "No, (y/n), you have your own life to live. It has been almost a month now, I appreciate all your help. I do, sis."

The truth was you wanted to stay, Gotham was slowly beating you down. Your job wasn't going to be there when you got, but you couldn't tell your brother that no need to make him feel guilty on top of losing the mother of his child. You sat down at the table as he got up and patted your shoulder. The pepper shaker caught your eye making you smile sadly, you never did get the nerve to talk to the man a second time.

 Victor had taken a photo from her apartment. He knew he should have left it, but he felt compelled to take it. It had been sticking partway out a book, lying on a short bookcase in her room. Carefully torn in half, someone else was in the photo. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Maybe an ex husband. Whoever it was they were not in any of the other various photos about the apartment. Instead of putting it back he slipped it into his pocket.

Her apartment was kept neat and tidy, no pets. Where is she? Victor noticed a rectangular indentation on the carpeting that was in her closet. Suitcase. She better be coming back, he frowned. He glanced at her dresser, well he had already been this nosy might as well take a peek in there as well. And he was not disappointed sifting through the cotton undies, he found a few pairs of silk panties as well. Victor chuckled when he found a little vibrator in the back of the drawer. He closed it, knowing he should leave.

 It had been a long bus ride back to Gotham. You weren't even sure it was worth coming back. No job. Rent past due. Bills are late. You'll have to update your resume. You got into your apartment. It felt oddly different, but nothing seemed out of place. You plopped the suitcase on your bed, flipping the lock on it. You picked up the picture sitting on top of your clothes. It was her copy.It was the last picture you had taken with her before she married your brother. Before all the ugliness, the slap across your face and you tearing the picture in two. You tucked the photo in the corner of a larger picture frame, telling yourself you'd have to get a frame for it.

Too drained to bother with changing you lay on you bed, your foot bumped against the case still on the bed, you kicked it off the bed not caring. Your head buried in your pillow, thinking briefly about the man from the diner wondering if he was alone or in the arms of a lover. Maybe it was a good thing you didn't talk to him after all, you tried to convince yourself as you fell asleep.

  She came back to town, but not back to the diner. Victor was irritated about it but didn't know what to do about it. He did know that he couldn't just treat her like a target, show up at her place and scare the shit out of her. Victor had had a job not too far from her home maybe he'd go past and watch for her.

Fourteen job interviews later and you finally got a job, truthfully you probably wouldn't have gotten that if the previous applicant hadn't gotten killed days before their interview. One of the few times this horrid city did something helpful to you, you immediately felt horrible for thinking that way. You decided you'd walk home since it wasn't far, you wondered if he was at the diner tonight. It had been weeks since you had bumped into him, sighing at how much of an idiot he probably thought you were. You found yourself walking across the bridge; there was moderate traffic, cars zooming past. Something caught your attention, and you stepped off the walkway into the traffic lane rushing over to it.

Victor couldn't believe his eyes, what the hell is that idiot doing? He hit the brakes on his car, pissing off the driver behind him. Running out into the traffic, Victor grabbed her pulling her out of the way of oncoming vehicles. Dragging her back onto the walkway, he had to refrain from shaking her. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?" He growled at her. He stared at her waiting for an answer.

You had been so focused on the what you found on the road; you forgot to watch for traffic. Being grabbed so suddenly by the man from the diner, nearly made you drop it. "I didn't want her to get run over." He looked confused for a second, glancing back out to the traffic on the bridge, "Who?" You held up the little bundle in your arms. It meowed a few times.

When she held up the cat to show him, he was at a loss for words. She went into traffic to rescue an animal, not even thinking she could have ended up getting run over. Victor wanted to be angry at her for being so reckless, but he was also impressed with her actions. He pulled her into him taking care not to crush the animal in her arms. "Idiot."