Jerome Valeska || OS/SS/I

1. King and Queen of Gotham

Wandering through the back alleys of Gotham, keeping just far enough in the shadows to keep yourself hidden, you mumble to yourself.

You shy away not because of who you are, because that is nothing to be shy about. You're the pretty Princess of Gotham. All sunshine and rainbows. The great Detective James Gordon's little orphaned niece. Mummy and Daddy hacked up by a crazed killer; Jamesy just the man to step up to the plate. Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, not in the eyes of the public. They don't know you. None of them do. Not even good ole uncle.

No, you shy away because tonight is the dreaded night. The one night a year where you are reminded of how alone with your own thoughts you are. Reminded that no one knows the real you; no one cares enough to know what you're thinking. The only way you're getting heart-shaped chocolates is if you nick them off some googly-eyed couple. You're not buying yourself some. That's just sad.

Yes, it was Valentine's Day, or night to be more accurate. The streets were lined with sickeningly sweet couples holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes, holding gigantic teddies and bouquets. Yuck. That definitely wasn't what you wanted for yourself, but you still had a small trace of a beating heart which pined for someone who understood it; who would accept it wholeheartedly.

You stalked the shadows, dressed to kill in your red plunge dress and heels. You'd be stopping by the GCPD office later for their annual 'Red Hearts Bash'. You'd find someone to take home with you there; all of the officers loving the thrill of sneaking around with Jim's 'daughter'. You had never been bothered to tell each one they weren't the first; they were more than happy keeping schtum, thinking they were your dirty little secret.

Grabbing a ribbon-tied box from a passerby's hands, you stuffed a handful of the chocolates inside into your mouth; they didn't even bother to notice they were one box down.

"Mn-Sho fūckin' shpoiled." You managed to spit out amongst a mouthful of caramel hearts as you kept on wandering.

Dropping the empty trays amongst the other junk scattered about you stood opposite Police Headquarters, staring up at the large gothic building.

"Such a beautiful building. Such a waste for it to be burned to the ground. Sucks to be you, 'Daddy'." You spoke lowly to yourself as you flicked the small lighter you kept in your bag on and off, on and off.

You were so caught up in your racing thoughts, mentally counting the days until this particular plan came into effect, that you failed to notice the presence behind you.

"Mm, I'm not sure how I feel about you calling anyone but me 'Daddy'." A cold breath gilded over your shoulder, making you shiver as the voice rang clear from behind you.

As quick as a flash you swung your right arm backwards, aiming to knock whoever this was away and give you time to reposition yourself.

No such luck.

A strong arm caught yours easily, predicting your reaction, and bending it up your back. A warm body pressed fully into you from behind, your arm caught between you both. A faint trace of mint wafted over you from lips which were grazing your ear.

"Now, now, little girl. Quit struggling. Wouldn't want Gotham's Princess ending up in that beautiful building's morgue now, would we?" He growled out, increasing the pressure on your arm as he done so.