Chapter Text
“Clean up at the Indian Hill Waste dump is on-going is the official statement given by the spoke person for Wayne Enterprises…” Valarie Vale’s voice blared from the television when Edwina Nygma came out of the bathroom dressed for another day for her job as a forensic scientist at the GCPD. Wayne Enterprises has been cleaning up Indian Hill ever since they bought it ten years ago. Edwina was sure it was a job that would never be finished any time soon. She was also convinced that the toxic waste that had been dumped there for decades had caused a lot of the problems with the water in Gotham. After all, water shouldn’t have a light green glow to it when you first turned it on.
Edwina came up short at the sight of her apartment window; it was open. Looking over to her couch, and there eating leftover Chinese food from a white container box, was a ten-year-old girl with bright sapphire eyes and a tangle of waist length strawberry blonde hair.
“Turn that off,” Edwina motion to the t.v., “don’t you have a home?” Edwina asked, tiredly.
Ivy Pepper grinned, picking up the remote to the t.v. And switching it off. “You have food, and I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Edwina muttered as she looked for her purse. It was the only reason the girl ever showed up at Edwina’s apartment.
“The man got retaken to jail again, and the woman was crying,” Ivy said, unemotionally, as she referred to her parents. Ivy had been crawling through Edwina’s window since she had made the mistake of giving, what she thought was a homeless girl, a sandwich that Edwina wasn’t going to eat and that girl followed her home. Ivy also crawled through Edwina’s window whenever she didn’t want to be to be at home or was hungry. Edwina knew she could have stopped the whole thing just by locking the window, but Edwina knew what it was like to be hungry and scared.
“Can I stay and listen to Gray Ghost on the radio?” Ivy asked, shoveling a forkful of food into her mouth. The Gray Ghost was a popular radio show about a masked detective that used different types of gadgets to catch criminals.
Edwina nodded, “Wash what you use. Don’t steal anything; you won’t get much for any of the crap I own and shut the window when you leave. I want to keep the crap I have.”
Ivy rolled her eyes, “I know the rules, Eddy. Oh, Selina told me that Jerome got picked up last night.”
“Of course, he did,” Edwina said under her breath at the information. Sometimes she wished she had never gone to the circus that night, two years ago. Edwina was not going to leave the boy with his mother, not after she had witnessed how Jerome’s mother had beaten him and no one tried to stop her. But the red-headed boy was at that age where causing trouble was the cool thing to do. Edwina wasn’t surprised that the budding girl thief knew Jerome was in trouble. Edwina pulled her purse out from under the piano bench,
“What for? And why tell you?”
“Because I know you, Eddy, duh?” Ivy said waving her fork, “And that you know Jerome.”
Edwina sighed, “Makes perfect,” rolling the ‘r’ on her tongue absently, “sense.”
“Selina knows you’ll pay his bail. You’re soft like that.”
Edwina glared at her. “I don’t have to feed you, you know,” sighing, “I’ll call Dent.” She said pulling her out a cell phone and flipping it open, and finding the lawyer’s number, then put the phone to her ear. She pointed at Ivy, “Remember what I told you.”
Ivy rolled her eyes again, “Yeah, yeah,” getting off the couch and going over to the radio in the corner of the room, “go to work.”
Edwina shook her head and walked out the door, locking it behind her. When the call connected, she heard over the line,
“Harvey Dent.”
“Hello, Mr. Dent. It’s Edwina Nygma. I’m calling you about Jerome Valeska?”
“Miss. Nygma, yes, I just received a call from Jerome. I’m on my way to the GCPD right now.” Mr. Dent said.
“I’ll pay his bail,” Edwina told him.
Edwina heard the lawyer sigh, “Of course, you will. Miss Nygma, it might be best if you let him serve some time in jail. To teach him a lesson about what happens if you break the law.”
Or teach why he shouldn’t get caught. Came a dark, sultry whisper in Edwina’s mind. Edwina shook the thought away, “We’ll talk about it when I get there.”
“As you wish, Miss. Nygma. Goodbye, Miss. Nygma.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Dent,” Edwina told him then hung up her phone and put it in her purse. Looking up she saw the weaselly looking man coming towards her, Willy Alibi. The landlord of the building, Edwina didn’t like him because he never fixed anything in the building. He handed her a piece of paper.
“You’re raising the rent, again,” Edwina asked, disbelieving.
“It’s not just you, Nygma. Everyone’s is going up.” Willy said with an unconcerned shrug.
Edwina blinked at the amount on the paper, “Two hundred dollars!” Cried outraged, “I can barely afford what I pay now!” The landlord continued down the hall not acknowledging what Edwina had said; she ran a hand through her hair frustrated, “Great. Just great.”
***
When Edwina got to the Gotham City Police Department, she went and paid Jerome’s bail, discovered he had vandalized a storefront with spray paint and realized he was being talked to in an interrogation room. Edwina didn’t even think twice about storming into the interrogation room, throwing the door open hard enough that it bounced off the wall, making the two adults look at her in surprise, and the boy gave her wary look.
Edwina walked into the room and up to Jerome hauling him out of his chair by the collar of his thick sweater jacket and slamming him up against the wall. Edwina barely heard Detective Renee Montoya protest Edwina’s actions, so focused as she was on Jerome.
“What did I tell you, Jerome?” Edwina hissed, angrily.
“Eddy, come on—” Jerome whined.
Edwina slammed him against the wall again. “What was our deal, you ginger-haired maniac?”
Jerome’s eyes widened, realizing just how badly he had messed up, “Okay, okay!”
“Well?”
“Stay out of trouble!” Jerome rushed out quickly. Though what Edwina had told him was more like not to get caught. “Or I can’t work at the circus anymore.” Edwina reached up and grabbed Jerome by his earlobe pulling him back to his seat and pushing him back into the chair.
“Ow,” Jerome muttered, rubbing his ear when she let him go.
“I don’t think you should treat—” Renee Montoya started but fell silent when Edwina rounded on her,
“Don’t tell me how I should deal with my son!” Edwina snarled at Renee. A surprised expression crossed Renee’s face at this information. She hadn’t thought the Riddle-girl was the motherly type. Renee looked over at Jerome’s lawyer.
“Miss. Nygma is Mr. Valeska’s legal guardian.” Mr. Dent told the detective.
“And his real mother?”
“Gave up all parental rights to Miss. Nygma.” Harvey looked at Edwina, “You paid his bail?”
Edwina nodded. Renee looked back at Jerome, who had his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on the table, gazing at Edwina with a worshipful look. Noticing Renee Jerome grinned at her and said, “Mommy loves me so much.”
Edwina slapped him lightly on the back of his head with the palm of her hand. “Quiet you.” Jerome fluttered his eyelashes at Edwina.
“Detective Montoya,” Harvey said sharply, getting her attention, “my client has told you everything he could about what happened. You have no reason to hold him, and he has agreed to pay for damages and help the store owner clean up the mess.” He smiled slickly at the detective, “and Jerome’s bail has been paid.”
Renee sighed. The lawyer was right. To Jerome, she said, “Leave a contact number. I might have more questions for you.”
Jerome leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head, “Sure, Detective,” he purred, “Whatever you say.”
Renee got up and left the room.
“Mr. Dent could you please walk Jerome out.” Edwina asked then to Jerome, “Go to my apartment. We will discuss your punishment when I get home. Ivy’s there.”
Jerome perked up, “Gray Ghost?”
Edwina nodded.
“Cool,” Jerome said, like the almost fifteen-year-old, he was and not the juvenile delinquent he acted like.
“And you will be paying me back for the bail money,” Edwina told Jerome. Jerome nodded at her. “My rent got raised so I need every penny I can get. I may have to get a second job,” she muttered the last softly.
“Why haven’t you asked for a pay raise, Edwina?” Harvey Dent asked, “You’re good at your job.”
Jerome snorts, “Harvey, haven’t you heard? They only give the men raises here at the GCPD.” Edwina tapped him on the back of the head again with her fingertips. Jerome tilted his head back to look at her, “Fish Mooney is looking for a new singer for the Fishbone. You sing and can play the piano.”
Edwina said, “I’m not going to work for a gangster. It would be a conflict of interest all around.”
Jerome gave a low whistle, “She pays her acts three hundred dollars per performance in the club.”
“How do you—” Edwina looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking her head, “no, I don’t want to know. Go home.”
“You’re going to do it,” Jerome said gleeful, “aren’t you?!”
“Go home,” Edwina repeated.
Jerome grinned at her, jumping up out of his chair and running out the door.
“I’ll see that he gets on the bus,” Harvey said, picking up his briefcase.
“Thank you,” Edwina said as they walked out of the room.
“Edwina would you—” Harvey started, yet he was cut off by,
“Miss. Nygma!” A sharp female voice called out. Edwina looked over at who called her name and saw Kristen Kringle standing down the hall giving her an irritated look. Edwina turned back to Harvey and said,
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
But before Harvey could say anything, Miss. Kringle snapped, “Now Nygma!”
Harvey shook his head, rolling a coin along his fingers, before putting it in his pocket, “It’s nothing,” he said, walking away from her.
Edwina turned to the red-haired woman, “Yes, Miss. Kringle?”
“I need you to return those files you borrowed last week.”
“There in my office.”
Kristen made a discontent sound, “Get them to me by this afternoon.” She turned and walked away. Edwina admired the grace of her movements. Ever since she had met, Miss. Kringle, Edwina wanted nothing more than to be Kristen’s friend, but Edwina knew the other woman found Edwina off-putting for some reason.
Could it be because every time you are in her presence for longer than five minutes, you start spouting riddles or facts no one cares about.” A dark voice in her head said sarcastically.
Shut up, Edwina growled, rubbing her eyes under her glasses, to the voice before going to her office.
***
“Hey, Riddle Girl!”
Edwina paused on her way to Miss. Kringle’s office, hating the fact that she had to go through the bullpen to get to the file room. She took a deep breath before turning to face one of the many officers that were always hanging around Kristen Kringle. Edwina was not in the mood to deal with the man. He always made fun of her whenever he could. She wasn’t sure why the man disliked her, but he did. Edwina tried no to be rude but sometimes…
“What has hands but can’t feel?”
Really? Edwina wondered, was that the best he could come up with? Her hands tightened on the files she held. What do you expect from someone like him? The voice in her head asked, something better than a riddle a first grader could solve! “A clock,” she said softly, “you’re a clock.”
Tom gave her a hard grin, baring his teeth at her, “Guess I’ll have to work harder to stump you, Riddle Girl.”
“Right,” Edwina murmured walking past him and right into someone, jarring her, causing her to drop the files to the floor.
“Watch where you are going!” A sharp high male voice said, Edwina looked up into an interesting more than a handsome face, he had black hair, in a spikey style. Pale skin with light freckles. He dressed in an expensive well-fitting suit. His bright violet eyes that assessed her and found her acceptable, “I’m Oswald Cobblepot,” he said holding out a hand to her, introducing himself.
“I know who you are,” Edwina said kneeling to pick up the files ignoring his hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw him drop his hand with a miffed look. She fought to keep a smirk off her face when he said,
“You have the advantage then, my dear.”
“Edwina,” she said shortly, standing up once she had all the files, “Nygma.”
“Miss. Nygma—” he broke off with a thoughtful expression, then murmured, “Edwina Nygma,” he repeated the name slowly, “’E’ Nygma…E-Nygma…Enigma, a mystery, a puzzle, a riddle.”
Edwina blinked at him amazed, “Not many people have put that together so fast.” No one has put that together before, the voice said, He’s cute! And those eyes! Ask him!
“Do you like riddles?” Edwina asked. Not that, you idiot!
“I don’t dislike them,” Oswald said, with a soft smile at her.
Edwina shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, “I have to get back to work.”
Oswald’s smile faded, “I see,” he nodded, “Good day to you, Miss. Nygma.”
“You as well, Mr. Cobblepot,” Edwina said, watching him go regretfully.
He was interested in us! The voice said.
No, he wasn’t. No one is ever interested in us. Edwina told the voice. I can’t believe you are this stupid! The voice huffed at Edwina.
Go away! Edwina snarled at the sound of it. The voice fell to silence as Edwina walked to the room.
***
After Edwina’s workday was over, she found herself parking her car down the block from Fish Mooney’s club. She got out of her car, locked the doors and opened it would still be there when she got back. She started down the street stopping when she heard a lazy whistle cut through the air. Edwina looked around; she was the only one on the road. She started forward only to be stopped by another a sharper whistle.
Edwina noticed she was standing in front of a dress shop. She stepped closer and saw her reflection in the window, no wait, another self. Edwina’s other self was always smarter and prettier with her makeup on point; eyes make up in green and purple, that made her emerald eyes pop, bright red lipstick and perfectly smooth hair that was a darker red than Edwina’s brownish-red hair. Edwina’s other-self gave her a smug smirk, then pointed at the dress in the window next to her, Edwina sighed and went into the dress shop.
***
Fish Mooney, knows she is one of the most dangerous people in Gotham, she wears her beauty like armor, uses her sexuality as a weapon, and loves to have all eyes on her. Fish is also ruthless and cruel when needed. At least that’s what Edwina learned from the rumor mill of the GCPD. Detective Bullock was surprisingly closed-mouthed when it comes to the subject of Fish Mooney. Edwina thought it was because of his close friendship with her.
Edwina was called to take the stage after waiting outside the Fishbone for thirty minutes. She had watched a few other girls and bands come out of the club looking terrified. Edwina stepped through the entrance of the club, smoothing down the skirt of her emerald dress, the soft texture of the black lace overlay, was pleasant against her fingertips. It was helping calm Edwina’s nerves. A heavily armed man motioned to Edwina to where the stage was at, and Edwina told the band what song she was going to sing, and thankful they knew the song.
“What is your name and what are you going to sing?” A large man who could only be Butch Gilzean, Fish Mooney’s right-hand man. He sat next to an older black woman in a gold dress, with a bright streak of scarlet across her bangs, on the woman’s other side stood, oh, was Oswald Cobblepot, currently Fish umbrella boy, yet was rumored to be a rising star in the criminal underworld.
“Edwina Nygma and I’ll be singing Glitter and Gold,” Edwina said.
“I haven’t heard of it.” Fish Mooney said, pouting slightly.
“It’s a new alternative song,” Oswald murmured, never looking away from the girl on the stage much to Fish’s surprise. Fish waved a hand for Edwina to start. Edwina looked at the band, and they began to play.
“I am flesh, and I am bone,” Edwina sang shakily into the microphone, “Rise up, ting, ting,” her eyes widened in surprise at the men at a table near the stage, dressed in GCPD strike gear, were loading 9mm’s and shotgun.
“I got fire in my soul, rise up, rise up, ting, ting,” more sounds of guns being load from men at a table to the side dressed in the flashy suits that most of the gangsters in Gotham had taken to wearing in the last few years. “Like glitter.”
“And there we are,” Oswald said, he was sitting in an ornate chair, in front of a fireplace, his hands on a cane with a silver top that had a penguin on it, smirking at the bleeding man in front of him.
“Like glitter and gold,” the bartender dropped a glass, the shattering of it, caused everyone in the club to freeze, ice covered the counter of the bar, the cold air of the bar is noticed in the exhaled breathes everyone took.
“Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men who sold their lives to a dream?” Edwina could see some men counting stacks of money on the bar, then the money began to smoke and burst into flames.
“Do you have their lives on a string?” The doors to the club opened, and a pale bald man walked in followed by two women in black leather…bondage gear? They walked up to the bar, and the bartender looked worried but slid a glass in front of the man.
“In the dark, the dark, the dark,” the lights in the club began to flash wildly. “I am flesh, and I am bone, all rise ting, ting,” the cocking of weapons sounded in sync with the beat of the music, “Like glitter and gold. I got fire in my soul. Rise up, rise up, ting, ting, like glitter and gold.”
“You’re mine, my creation.” Fish Mooney dressed to the nines, in a silver outfit, waggled a finger at Oswald in a tsk, tsk motion, as they stood in a wooded area, an Asian man in red tinted glasses dressed in white was by her side.
“Do you ponder the manner of this in the dark?” The lights in the club went out suddenly, and a spotlight shone down on Edwina, “In the dark, in the dark…” Edwina spun around in a showy move that caused her to skirt to flare up; she grabbed the microphone, “Cause everybody’s in the backroom, spinning up,”
The shadow of a man in a stovetop that cast on the wall and the sound of ticking, “Everybody’s tripping out in the front room…” Green vines were creeping along the bar, winding around the stools. Deranged laughter filled Edwina’s head, as straw fell to the floor.
“You left your bottle at the door,” a coin flipped through the air end over end, flashing brightly when the edges of it caught the light. The bar fight between the men dressed in the GCPD strike gear and the gangsters, they broke tables, chairs, pieces of glass fell through the air like Gotham rain,
Oswald panted for breath in time with Edwina, the rough bricks of the wall digging into her back, as the men they were hiding from ran passed the mouth of the alley, in the night sky overhead a spotlight was shining on the clouds, a hated symbol, “I am flesh, and I am bone. Rise up, ting, ting. I got fire in my soul, rise up, rise up, like glitter…”
Edwina blinked at the sudden sound of applause; she frowned as she looked around the club, no broken tables, or chairs nor did any glass litter the floor. She didn’t understand why,
It just made our performance better, the voice in Edwina’s head purred.
I don’t like hallucinating! Edwina hissed back at the voice.
But was it? A hallucination, I mean? Never was, am always to be, no one ever sees me nor ever will I be? What am I?
What else could it have been? Edwina asked, ignoring the riddle, the voice told her. That was one Edwina wasn’t sure she wanted the answer too.
“Well,” Fish said, slyly, to Butch, he grinned, “who would have thought such a shy little songbird was such a show woman.” She pointed the finger at the girl on stage and crooked it at her. Edwina left the stage and made her way over to Fish’s table. Fish watched with a bemused smile as Penguin trip over his feet to pull out a chair for the woman in the green dress. Fish stared at Edwina for a long moment, watching as the woman began to shift in her seat.
“I am alive without breath but as cold as death. I am never thirsty but always drinking. What am I?” Edwina asked, nervously.
Fish raised an eyebrow at the young woman; she got an embarrassed look her face.
“Sorry,” Edwina winced, “it’s a nervous habit.”
“A fish,” Oswald said, softly, “you’re a fish.” The bright smile that Edwina gave Oswald is blinding and caused the young man to blush.
So, this is the way of it, Fish thought. Penguin rarely showed any interest in people, and when he did, it was generally for people in positions that could help him or would help him in the future. Which was a smart way to do things, she knew. But Fish also knew that every once in a while, that someone came along, that couldn’t farther your goals, yet, you just had to see it through. No matter the cost. Fish knew that all too well.
Fish wondered how she could use this to control her penguin. He was beginning to get ideas. Ideas that he was ready to take her place. Fish knew better; she hadn’t consolidated her reign as Queen of Gotham. So, her feathery little prince wasn’t ready yet. One day, he would be, but not yet.
“You’ll sing here two nights a week. Fridays and Saturdays.” Fish said. Edwina nodded. “Pay will be three hundred dollars and an extra twenty-five in hazard pay.”
“Hazard pay?”
Fish shrugged, “Things…happen.”
“Oh,” Edwina said, slightly confused.
“All that’s left is for you to choose a stage name. What do you want to go by?” Fish asked.
But before Edwina could answer Fish, Oswald breathed out, “Lady Enigma.”
Edwina smiled again at Oswald, “You remembered.”
Fish narrowed her eyes, “Just how do you know, my dear penguin?”
Oswald stiffened at the name, before he answered Fish, “We met when I delivered your message to Detective Bullock.”
Fish snapped her head to Edwina, “You’re a cop!”
Edwina quickly shook her head, “No, Miss. Mooney, I work in Forensics. I’m not a cop.”
Fish mulled that information over. It wouldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes or heard in the GCPD. “You start Friday night. Be here two hours before we open to rehearse with the band.”
“Yes, Miss. Mooney.” Edwina agrees, softly.
“Oswald, walk our dear Miss. Nygma out.” Fish said with a wave of her hand.
Oswald nodded.
Fish watched as the young man helped the woman in the green and black dress from her chair, watched as his hand hovered over the small of Edwina’s back but didn’t touch her. Oswald led Edwina to the door of the Fishbone, he stopped and said, “Miss. Nygma?”
“Yes?” Edwina asked absently, then noticed the clock on the wall, “Is that the time? I have to go!” She said and hurried out the door. Fish watched as Oswald’s face fell in disappointment, then a moment later Edwina walked back into the club.
“Miss. Nygma?”
“Mr. Cobblepot, do you know the diner across the street from the GCPD?” Edwina asked, hurriedly.
"Yes,” he said with a nod.
Edwina took a deep breath, “Would you like to have lunch with me? Tomorrow at one o’clock?”
“Yes!” Oswald exclaimed eagerly.
“I’ll see you then,” Edwina told him, before leaving again.
“Until then,” Oswald whispered, happily, walking back to where Fish and Butch were sitting.
“Well, who would have thought that Penguin had game,” Butch said, mockingly. Causing the other men in the club to snicker. “Of course, there has to be something wrong with her for her to like you.”
Fish saw the angry expression cross Oswald’s face. She knew he wouldn’t act on that anger now but later when Butch would least expect it unless she did something to head Oswald’s anger off. She needed Butch for some jobs and couldn’t afford him to be injured right now.
“Now, Butch, you shouldn’t tease the boy. You remember what it was like to be that age, right? Young love and all of that.” Fish crooked a finger at Oswald, and he came to her. “Miss Nygma will be your responsibility,” Fish told him.
At Oswald’s confused look, Fish told him, “A pretty thing like that, will garner attention that she may not want. Do you understand? Having an extra set of eyes on her will help keep trouble at bay.” She reached out and straightened Oswald’s tie, “Be her sharply dressed knight.”
Oswald smiled and nodded.
***
Edwina tried not to panic at the thought that she had a lunch date with a low-level gangster tomorrow. She couldn’t believe she had done that. Edwina had asked Oswald Cobblepot out to lunch. Edwina opened her apartment door, stepped inside and dropped the shopping bag filled with her work clothes in it on to a chair that sat next to the front door of her apartment along with her purse. She tossed her keys in the bowl on the table next to the chair. Edwina reached down and pulled off the black heels with a relieved sigh, wiggling her toes on the thin carpet. Frowning she noticed the yummy scent in the air,
“I smell pizza. Why do I smell pizza?” Edwina asked.
“Because we got pizza for dinner,” Jerome said from his spot on the couch, paper plate in hand. Next to him sat a pale-skinned boy, with shaggy black hair and, sad, dark chocolate eyes. Johnathan Crane was a sweet boy, who had befriended Jerome a year ago but the two had been fast friends ever since they had met. Edwina wasn’t sure how their friendship had come about, but the younger boy was a good influence on Jerome.
Johnathan’s father was a teacher at one of the upper-class high schools in Gotham. Though Edwina wasn’t sure which one, Edwina was just glad that Jerome had a friend near his age, she worried about Jerome more than she would like too. “I found Johnny-boy, on the way home from the pizza place and dragged him home with me.”
“We also got salad and breadsticks,” a purring voice said from Edwina’s bed, Selina Kyle sprawled there like a lazy cat, holding a glass of milk. Selina’s sea green eyes seemed to glow from the neon light that flashed into the apartment. The short, ragged bob that gave Selina ahead of artful curls. Selina had shown up a two of months after Ivy started hanging around Edwina’s apartment. The girl came and went much as a stray cat would. Mostly to get out of the cold or for food, she also knew just about everything that went down on the streets of Gotham. And would tell you for the right price.
“We hope you don’t mind that we’re here?” Bridget Pike asked, from her spot on the floor in front of the bed. The Latina girl’s black hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail; her soft coffee-colored eyes gazed fearfully at Edwina. Ivy was sitting in front of Bridget while the older girl tamed the younger girl’s tangled mane of strawberry blonde hair into a braid. “I couldn’t stay with them anymore. I think one day I’m going to set them on fire in their sleep.”
Them in question were Bridget’s brothers, were arsonists from a well-known family of them. They weren’t cruel to the girl, and she was always well clothed and never went hungry. The treated Bridget more like a servant than like family most of the time. Edwina was sure that when the girl did kill them, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.
“As long as you saved me some pizza, you can stay.” Edwina sighed.
“We saved you some salad too!” Ivy said, brightly. At Edwina’s sad look, Ivy said with a frown, “Don’t make that face. Veggies are good for you. You are an adult. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you that.”
“I eat veggies.”
“The ones that come on pizza or in Chinese food doesn’t count. Oh! I got you a new plant,” Ivy said pointing to the window and next to it was a small leafy plant.”
“You do know she killed the last one, Ives.” Jerome giggled.
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Edwina defended herself. “Work was busy that week.”
“That’s what happens when you forget to water them.” Selina snickered.
“I’ll water it,” Ivy said, sweetly.
“I’m on to you,” Edwina said, grabbing a piece of pizza from the box on the table. “The plant is a cunning excuse to come and eat my food.”
Ivy rolled her eyes, “I do that anyway.”
“True,” Edwina admitted, “put the t.v. on.” She said sitting down in a chair by the table.
“Woo! Cinemax!” Jerome crowed.
“Age appropriate, Jay.”
“You are such a stick in the mud,” Jerome mock glared at her, “you know that, right?”
“And you, Mister, are in hemp of trouble still, remember? Keeping adding more.”
“I told you to quit, that stealing the car was enough but, no,” Johnathan drawl, “you just had to deface that wall.”
Edwina frowned, “What car?” She looked at Jerome, “You’ve been stealing cars!” Jerome tossed a glare at Jonathan. Jonathan smirked and shrugged at his friend.
"I wasn’t caught for stealing the car, was I?” Jerome sneered.
The boy has a point, Edwina other inner voice stated, and Edwina had to admit if you were going to get caught for something it should be the one with the lesser punishment for it. Out loud out she said, “Just be more careful, next time.” Because there would be the next time, Edwina knew.
Jerome’s eyes narrowed, “You weren’t wearing that earlier.”
Edwina looked down at her green dress. “No, I wasn’t.”
Jerome pointed a finger at her, “You went to the Fishbone!”
No point in lying, Edwina knew, “I did.”
“Well?” Jerome asked.
“I sing two nights a week at the Fishbone,” Edwina told them.
“Well,” Selina purred, “aren’t you moving uptown. All you need now is a gangster boyfriend, and you’ll be all set.” Edwina knew that a blush covered her cheeks when Selina sat up suddenly and exclaimed, “You work fast, who?”
“Oswald Cobblepot.”
“Isn’t that Fish Mooney’s umbrella boy?” Bridget asked. She knew who most of the major players in Gotham were because of her brothers. They had done a lot of jobs for the female mobster. That the looks form the others, “What? She pays top asking price for my brothers work.”
Edwina sighed, after finishing her pizza, stood and walked to her dresser and got some clothes from it before heading to the bathroom, “I’m going to change. Don’t eat all the pizza!”
“Salad!” Ivy called. “You’ll have a salad!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Edwina muttered, walking into the bathroom.
***
Later that night, after the food was gone and a few television shows, the children fell asleep. By the green neon light that shone into her apartment, Edwina watched over the children in her bed. Jerome laid next to her drooling on her pillow; she carded her fingers through his ginger locks of hair. Johnathan laid next to him with Ivy between them, her head on Johnathan’s shoulder, snoring softly. Selina and Bridget were curled up at the end of the bed like a pair of kittens.
They were a good bunch of kids with…a shit ton of issues altogether. They were also caring, and loyal to each other in a way that wasn’t likely in Gotham. Edwina tried to teach them about family but, her own hadn’t been the best example of what one should be, so she did the opposite that her parents had done.
Oh, please, Edwina’s inner voice said sarcastically, you are raising a generation of criminals.
Then let them be the best criminals Gotham has ever seen, Edwina snarled back at the sound.
That’s crazy; you know that, right? You’re insane.
I’m not crazy! The voice in my head is not allowed to say that. You of all people know that…My reality is just different from other peoples, that’s all. Edwina took off her glasses, laid them on her bedside table and rubbed her eyes, tiredly.
Whatever helps you sleep at night. An outline of a female figure began to take shape, next to the window.
I could sleep better at night if you shut up! Edwina said, ignoring the laughter from the figure by the window. She would not listen to the voice. It was wrong. Her children were excellent at what they did, were as kind natured as they could be for Gotham City, and her children would be great at whatever they choose to do in the future.
Edwina had no choice but to believe that.