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Jim Gordon sat alone on his couch, sipping terrible instant coffee. His beaten up tv had long hit static, creating a depressing white noise for his depressing apartment.

His phone buzzed. He ignored it.

It was most definitely Valerie, she was the only person who contacted him aside from Harvey’s weekly drunken phone calls and..

His phone buzzed again.

She probably wanted to meet up, to drill him on Arkham escapees, police activity, or his lifestyle choices, whatever was the most pressing topic on her mind.

Another buzz from his neglected phone.

Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with her. It’s only fueled her ongoing psychological investigation on him, which he thought he could put up with to have her. He overestimates himself too much.
Was he using her? Absolutely. There was no doubt she knew it too.
It still made it wrong.

His phone buzzed again. He threw it across the room.

Why did every woman insist on knowing the inner workings of his mind? Every time Valerie prodded all Jim could think about was Lee, who he let in.
Although that wasn’t difficult. Everything reminded him of Lee.
Every time he was near Valerie he felt guilty, like it was a countdown until she got hurt too.
Everything made him feel guilty.

His phone, the one thing that wasn’t broken in his life, buzzed , from the safety of the floor under his television.
Jim sighed and heaved himself off his couch. He stumbled over to his tv, preparing himself for whatever Vale had for him.


Oswald: which number is your apartment?
Oswald: jim.
Oswald: i’m trying to be discreet
Oswald: jim.

Oswald: i will knock on every single one of these doors

Jim tried to hold back a smile, relief washing over him as it was not, in fact, the prying reporter.
He texted his number and heard knocking at his door almost instantly.

“You could answer your phone you know!” Oswald said, entering Jim’s apartment.
Jim shrugged in response, he looked around at his living area, cringing at the empty bottles and cans scattered on his floor.
Not that he wanted to impress Oswald.

Oswald refused a cheap beer and had seated himself on Jim’s couch. Jim stayed standing, he felt as if he shouldn’t get too close to the kingpin. Not while he was unaware of the reasoning behind Oswald’s visit.
He’d learnt the hard way not to try to predict him.

“What do I owe this visit?” Jim said, long after air became awkward.

“A job!” Oswald blurted out, clearly caught off guard. He fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a beaten up photograph.  “I’ve put a bounty on this person. That’s what you do right?”

“What did he do?” Jim took the image.

“He stole money from me..” Oswald looked everywhere but Jim, this seemed like something he could easily take care of by himself.
He took a step towards Oswald.

“Understaffed Oswald? I’m sure Gilzean could handle this.” Why would Oswald need him, let alone make a house call?
Jim refused to get his hopes up.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’d want your... help.” Oswald was stuttering, eyes glued to the floor.
“Or that i’d want to.. See you again.” Jim swallowed.

“I didn’t think-” Jim didn’t think Oswald would want to see him again.

“You don’t, do you.” Oswald stood up, trying to sound firm. “I can go.”
Jim grabbed his wrist.

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me again.”

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” He huffed, pulling his arm free.

Jim stepped back, trying to comprehend the situation.
“So. It wasn’t just a one off?”

“Do you want it to be?”
Jim frowned. He couldn’t help but be cautious, this was Oswald Cobblepot.
“Is this a trick?”

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s just. You know.” He sighed. “You were so drunk last time, so was I. Not that I didn’t.. I expected the worst really. You’re, you , afterall. And i’m.. Not even..” He trailed off, he couldn’t even say it. The last thing he needed was the question of his sexuality.
His thoughts were interrupted by Oswald, who had planted a kiss on his lips.

“You’re better when you don’t think actually.”
He leaned in and kissed Jim again, for longer this time. Jim found his hands on Oswald’s waist.
This was nice. Oswald was different. Nothing about him reminded Jim of his never ending list of woes.
Nothing about him reminded Jim of Lee.

He didn't think anyone could make him feel so carefree.

It happened a couple of weeks ago.

Jim had stormed into Oswald's mansion looking for answers on Hugo Strangers whereabouts. He thought that his merciful actions of letting Oswald handle Mooney and Strange easily deserved an understanding as repayment, as it was clearly obvious that neither were dead. Admittedly he had a few drinks, which only emphasised his need for clarity.

He found Oswald drunk, on his couch. His eyes were puffy and his face was wet.

“Oswald?” Jim said, a mixture of amusement and disgust laced his voice.

He dodged a poorly thrown bottle.

“It's the Penguin !” Oswald shouted, before bursting into tears.

Jim laughed and crashed next to him. Completely forgetting about his purpose.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Oswald shot him a glare, as menacing as a sobbing man could be. They stared each other down until Oswald groaned, wiped his eyes on his sleeve and tried to explain.

“Recently a.. Old friend said something that has.. Lead me to question myself.” He took a deep breath.
“I don’t know who I am.. Or how to be myself.. And it’s scary.”

Jim didn’t expect this, or how much it resonated with him. He was quiet. Oswald frowned.

“Honestly I don’t know why I’m even talking to you-”


Jim had kissed him. One kiss lead to many. Clothes were removed, bottles were emptied.

He thought it was just a one off, a mistake even. He started seeing Valerie frequently shorty after, he thought it was getting his head on straight. He thought after a while he would really be kissing her instead of pretending to kiss Oswald.
But here he was, kissing Oswald, completely sober in his own home. Hating how right it felt.

Jim lifted up Oswald, who wrapped his legs around him. They migrated to the kitchen counter top.
Oswald broke their kiss and tossed his head back.

“I really do need that guy dead.” he smirked.

Jim groaned, really unable to think of business propositions.
“No problem.” He kissed Oswald before he could say anything else.


Valerie Vale was in his apartment that evening.

She was informing him on the new hypnotist at the Sirens, apparently he was rather extraordinary. She’d heard he could defy gravity. Jim couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to care.
His eyes were fixed on the counter top, where Oswald was earlier.

He didn’t notice her stop talking.
He didn’t notice her walk over to him.
He didn’t notice her right in front of him.

“Are you there Jim?” She said, making him jump.

“Yeah- of course.” He lied. She seemed to believe it. Some reporter..

She leaned in and kissed him. Jim kissed back, putting his hands in her hair, trying so hard to be into her.
They kissed for what felt like forever, until Valerie pulled away.

“You smell fancy. New cologne?”