Roxy Rocket, Batman (Bruce Wayne?), and Oswald "the Penguin" Cobblepot are all (c) DC.
I'll Believe You When
Her fingers touched his cheek, "You'll wait for me, won't you?"
"A jailbird is still a bird, darlingheart," and every time, he wondered why he said it.
Roxy smiled, a fire behind those dark eyes, and gave him a wink, before they hustled her out of the courtroom, handcuffs clinking faintly. They were fools to cuff her in the front, she could slip them like nothing. Oswald said nothing, however, prefering to stray in memories of how he had discovered this.
Loving her was a bit like trying to avoid a stray bullet.
But, as foolish as it seemed, he would wait. For whatever the duration, he'd mark it down on the calendar and chalk off the days, send flowers to her cell, and occasionally a metal file, just to keep the guards on their toes. And when she got out, he'd send a limosuine... or a getaway driver, whichever she called him for. Funny, how she never called for anything else.
The seated courtroom was now standing, shifting and moving, draining out of the doubledoors like quicksand. But Oswald sat still, quietly immersed in his thoughts, wondering if he looked as foolish as she always made him feel.
Oswald looked up, his contemplative mood suddenly soured by the interuption; and an interuption from Bruce Wayne, at that, "Yes, Mr. Wayne?" he answered, a bit stiffly.
Bruce, always dressed well and looking better than he dressed, looked up at the door that they had taken Roxy out through, "She's dangerous."
Oswald snorted, "I find that any girl that isn't doesn't turn out to be much."
"Is that the appeal?" Bruce questioned, arching a cynical brow.
Oswald removed his eyes from his advesary, returning them to the door, "I have no idea what you're talking about." But he did know. He knew what they would be saying, soon enough; Roxy Rocket is in prison again. Don't expect anything dasterdly from the Penguin any time soon. The worst bit of it was, they were right.
Oswald helped his broken, casted elbow back into the silk sling around his neck.
Batman was in his office, when he got to the Lounge, "They've caged your bird," he said gruffly.
Oswald didn't bother to press the silent alarm, knowing that he would simply have his gloat and go, "so it would seem." He passed the dark knight, looming in his usual place near the window, his long cape fading in with the shadows of the drapes, until only his scowling eyes were visible, in the dark. The Penguin paid him little mind, finding a seat in his office chair and plopping into it with a tired sigh.
"She's dangerous," He echoed Bruce Wayne, and Oswald found it similarly annoying, "it's getting very difficultto tell just what your intentions are anymore, Cobblepot."
"And you've always been so interested in my intentions, haven't you?" Oswald smiled mirthlessly, and leaned toward his desk. From the corner of his eye, he could see his advesary move to grip something at his belt. Oswald ignored him, taking to plucking at the small pile of post-it invoices one of the girls had left for him.
"Only when Roxy is around."
The Penguin's face gathered with bitterness, "How heartening."
"I don't understand it, Penguin. After prison, you said you'd reformed-"
"And I have. Look around you, Batman. This is my world, now. My past is behind me. Why do you have such trouble believing me?" But even as the words left him, he could taste the coppery edge of a lie on them. It tasted vaguely like blood.
"Because I'm not a fool," Batman replied, grimmacing, "and I'm not blind. Every time Roxy is in town, you're plotting something with her. Convieniance?"
Oswald chuckled tiredly, his head a little heavy, "Would you belive that we occasionally date?"
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Oswald arched a brow at him in confusion. Then, he shook his head, "how am I supposed to take that?" he questioned.
Batman's eyes spanned the office, as he chose his words, "Your... personal life is none of my buisness," he said, "until it becomes my buisness. And Roxy is very good at making you... making you both my buisness."
"So what you're saying," the Penguin summarized, cutting past all the red tape of his riddles, "is that she's bad for me." Batman nodded to Oswald's broken arm, and Oswald bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance, "You think I'm tame, don't you? Everyone thinks that."
"This isn't a matter of pride, Cobblepot," Batman reasoned, "it's a matter of saftey. Look at you. It seems like Roxy is trying to kill you-"
"You were right," Oswald interupted stiffly, and Batman paused. "When you said it was none of your buisness. You were right." he fumbled for a cigarette from the case inside his jacket, cursing softly as he dropped them.
"She wouldn't kill you, though, would she?" Batman pressed, and Oswald searched his desk for alternate cigarettes, "because she needs you."
"That's where you're wrong," the Penguin muttered over his searching, "she doesn't need me. Not in the slightest." At last he looked up, "I don't suppose you would have a cigarette, would you?" Batman grimaced, and Oswald grinned, shaking his head, "No, of course not. That would make you useful. I have a favour to ask of you, Batman, something that I know will be difficult, but I'm certian you can manage; would you kindly stay out of my personal affairs?"
His grimmacing turned to outright scowling. The window was open behind him, blowing his cape and the curtians in a flurry of night air, "We'll talk again, Penguin," Batman growled, "In six months." And he was gone.
Oswald sat in stunned silence. Six months- the amount of time Roxy was in prison. His face heated like fire, and he barred his teeth in fury. He scooped up his cagarette lighter, flinging it across the office to shatter on the opposing wall.