not the season 3 gotham needs but the one it deserves

[agnomen]

[It's been a few months since Oswald so generously and kindly bribed his way into getting Ed out of Arkham. A few fewer months since Oswald's new club opened and made Barbara and her ilk ten kinds of pettily jealous, a few weeks since Butch's betrayal was so magnanimously revealed by Ed himself—Ed, the only person Oswald has left who he truly, one hundred percent believes he can trust. Ed, who would do anything for him and after nearly losing his life to Butch for Oswald, pretty much already has! There is no denying that Oswald has made his way in the world, in Gotham (which is the part that matters) without anyone else's help. He's crawled his way up from the deepest, darkest, coldest depths of this wretched city and turned it on its head time and again. He swore this town would know his name and now they do, and Oswald knows, this is something he's done all by himself.

But Ed's... contributions cannot be taken lightly. A memory plays out again and again each time Oswald catches himself looking a moment too long at the color of Ed's hair or the line of his jaw, the smooth column of his throat—and the memory is of Ed himself, telling Oswald that all he needs to do is give up on love and he will be completely free. He has a brief, sharp moment of shame; that the man he's lately been so smitten with is the one who told him quite pointedly not to do that is embarrassing, to say the least.

It doesn't help; smitten he remains, half the time having to ask Ed to repeat himself because he gets carried away with thoughts of how it might feel to reach out and touch that cheek, to turn Ed away from his work and back to Oswald, where he should probably spend most of his time looking anyway, and then—well, and then. Ed would do anything for him, and while Oswald has never once even entertained the idea of doing the same for Ed, the weight of Ed in his arms that night Butch nearly killed him lingers in his memory like a persistent ache for the one thing he wants and still does not have.

So Ed was probably wrong about the love thing because Oswald always gets what he wants, but that's alright. He doesn't have to be right all the time. Oswald is mildly observing the curve of his lips as he talks about... something or other, only blinking himself out of his distraction when he notices the thin, impatient line those lips have set into. Oh. He's being asked something again, uh—]

Oh. Yes, you should. [Yeah he has no idea what Ed is talking about. He should what? Oswald shakes his head before Ed can sigh at him for not listening, holding hands up to rub his temples.] Listen, Ed, can we talk about... something else? Like, oh, I don't know... anything else? It's been half an hour and there are things that need to get done today whether or not you come with me.

Comments

[spicymustard]

[There's a brief moment where Ed's furrowed brows and pursed lips slip into a softer expression. His gaze is more searching, his mouth slightly open like he's about to ask something. However, it isn't in his nature to just ask the answer of a riddle. Instead he abruptly pulls the folder away, sits back in his seat, and clenches a hand into fist over his knee. He won't dispute that he wouldn't listen, because, well, he actively isn't.

It's frustrating, because he knows deep down he didn't behave like this to such an extreme. But just squeezing the answer out of Oswald would mean all the time he's been searching for something so important, so... secret that he'd keep it from him would go to waste. Shipment of some secret weapon tighten the grasp on Gotham? No. Another business partner? Please. He had no dealings with anyone, he didn't leave any physical clues behind to pick up on. So why is he saying admire instead of trust?

Anyway, after he's given the driver the address, he's going to stew on this the entire trip. He exits the car with a curt "I'll be back" before he's gone off into some poor artist' studio, and he takes maybe twenty minutes before he's walking back to the car with looking even more sour. This time, it features red spattered all over his jacket... it's paint, but they're matching.]

We can go to lunch.