We Were Born Sick • Gotham Fanfiction •

IX: Breathing Fire

"I am afraid that our eyes are bigger than our stomachs, and that we have more curiosity than understanding. We grasp at everything, but catch nothing except wind." ― Michel de Montaigne

~()~

Oswald sat on Bird's couch, still dressed in his suit from the day. He wasn't entirely sure if he was going to stay in for the night yet or not; he knew he should. Everyone still thought he was dead and it seemed every time he went somewhere other than to work at Maroni's resturaunt, he'd been seen by someone and had to eliminate them as a means of keeping both his being alive and his return to Gotham a secret.

Any other night he had no problem staying in, but not only was it a Friday –it was the night Bird was supposed to get dinner with Harvey Dent and he'd been seriously considering tailing them for the night. There would be a risk involved, he knew that, not only the chance of being seen by someone who'd drag him back to Fish Mooney, but also because he knew Bird was constantly making herself aware of her surroundings and if he got caught spying on her –he'd have some explaining to do. He wasn't looking to be on the receiving end of her anger, especially not while he was still dependent on her for a safe place to stay.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he shook his head in disbelief at himself. Why put himself through the torture of seeing her on a date with someone who wasn't him? She was more than capable of taking care of herself so he couldn't even lie to himself that he should follow them to make sure she was safe; in fact he had no real reason to follow her aside from the ever growing obsession he'd developed with his best friend.

Reaching under the coffee table, he pulled out the black duffel bag full of cash that he'd retrieved from the thieves he'd hired to rob the restaurant after he'd killed them with heavily poisoned cannoli. He'd already promised the money to Falcone as a gift, yet another way to get further into the trusted circle of the biggest crime boss in Gotham City, but he'd only made the promise of stolen monetary gain to the Don, not an exact amount. Opening the bag, his eyes moved back and forth with hungriness over all of the cash; how much could he keep for himself, he wondered.

The time for him to return home and let word spread of his return to Gotham was approaching fast, with a gaze towards Bird's closed bedroom door, Oswald had to admit it almost seemed to be coming too fast. But either way, it would be nice to spend the rest of that time there not needing to rely on her for any more money –plus, her birthday was coming up and he'd been hunting for the perfect gift for weeks now. He had his eye on a few different things and none of them would come cheap.

~()~

Hearing the floor creak just outside of her bedroom door, Bird flipped her head to look over her shoulder expecting Oswald to either knock on the door or ask her something.

She'd been avoiding him ever since she'd gotten home a few hours prior after her day long shopping trip with Liza.

After ignoring Oswald's phone calls for the day and then coming home with a single shopping bag, she'd been met at her door with him wanting to know where she'd been all day. Normally she'd have been honest with him, told him about Fish hiring a young woman to use as a secret weapon against Carmine Falcone, but lately her friend's ambition to rush his way to the top of the crime ladder in Gotham had been what almost got him killed.

So Fish's plan and Liza were secrets she was keeping to herself until the time right, if Oswald let anything slip before it was time he'd get all of them killed and it's not like the task of killing would be left up to someone with a conscience like Jim Gordon. No, for a betrayal like that Falcone would probably sic Victor Zsasz on them and she'd rather throw herself off the top of the highest building in Gotham than be taken alive by Zsasz, she'd heard plenty of horror stories about his basement.