Define Close [Nygmobblepot]

Ch2: Darkness and Weakness Follow

Oswald's POV

After reading to a bunch of orphans at the library I couldn't be happier to get home. It's good to get some positive press but I wish it wouldn't have to be kids. My childhood was frankly the worst time of my life and in my own experience kids just mean and cruel, I guess that explains my dislike for them but then again, I'm not here to give a psychological evaluation to myself.

"Oh, Oswald." A voice says rather cheerfully. "I mean Mr Cobblepot." He corrects himself quickly as I turn to see him. It's the man from yesterday, Edward Nygma. I'm so surprised by the sudden, quite friendly greeting that at first I don't say anything.

"Give me a minute." I tell Butch before making my way to the tall man who's still smiling at me. "You're not following me, are you, Mr Nygma?" I ask him and he just keeps smiling.

"I came to get this." He says, showing me a book and I frown as I look at it. Something about forensic epidemiology. "It's one of the physiological sides of forensic science." He explains to me once he notices my confused look. "It's not a job if you love it." He says with an awkward chuckle, probably feeling the need to explain why he's reading about it on his free time.

"Your life really does seem fascinating, Mr Nygma." I just say, wondering if this guy has a life outside the lab. Then again, maybe I'm not one to talk, but to me his field doesn't seem so interesting I could keep myself busy with only that.

"Are you making fun of me?" He asks but still has that smile on his face and seems nothing but glad to be talking to me. "But to answer your earlier question directly; no, I'm not following you." He tells me then. "I think a stalker with any intellect would wait more than a day to accidentally run into you again."

"Fair point." I reply with a small smile. "Maybe you should become my advisor."

He raises his brows. "Do you often have problem with stalkers?"

"Maybe not." I say, a little amused. "But you seem to have an opinion on everything. And an abundance of fair points."

He smiles widely. "You're not the first person to tell me that." He replies. "But no one has ever meant it as a compliment."

"Well, it seems like you spend a lot of time at the GCPD." I point out. "Don't expect those people to understand a thing if it's not explained to them slowly and possibly acting it out with puppets. So, if they don't appreciate your intellect, don't take it personally, it's very rare for someone to appreciate something they do not have." I smile, feeling rather victorious that I've managed to amuse him considering that might not have been his reaction once I've made fun of his co-workers.

"You're absolutely right." He tells me. "But don't worry, I stopped taking them seriously long ago." As he says that, for the first time I see something darker in him than the smiling chatty stranger and what startles me is that for some reason I see myself in him. I know what it feels like not be appreciated and to be kicked around by others and I have a feeling he knows about it as well. He mumbles something about 'pretentious fools' and it makes me smile.

"I can easily arrange you a job, if you wish." I say then. "One where your brains might be far more useful and of course, more appreciated."

"Your advisor?" He asks smiling, referring to my earlier comment which I hadn't really meant seriously at all.

"As you wish." I just say. "Something like that." I feel like he could be useful to the campaign but possibly even more to Gotham's underworld, which I consider my slightly more important job. I wonder if he'd be up to it, though. I can't tell what kind of darkness I just saw a glimpse of but I have a feeling he might.

"I- I couldn't..." He says then and I'm not sure what it means. He's not ready to leave the GCPD? Or is he just being humble by saying he couldn't take advantage of a generous offer? "I mean.. why would you be willing to hire me? Or.. help me in the first place?"

I glance at Butch who's still patiently waiting for me further away and I think of my driver who must be bored out of his mind outside. I smile slightly as I turn to Edward. "Let's just say you remind me of someone." I tell him, not sure how he'd take it if I told him I see sides of myself in him, even during our short meetings.

He does seem kind of glad to hear that, though. "Can I.. think about it?" He asks then and I nod shortly.

"Of course." I reply. "Contact me if you feel the need to talk."

Edward's POV

"What the hell are you doing here?" Barbara demands as I walk in.

"Always a pleasure, Miss Kean." I tell her joylessly. "What's the problem?"

She groans, rolling her eyes at me. "The problem is that Oswald will be here soon which means you can't be here."

I frown. "Why is he coming here?"

"Why do you think?!" She demands. "Have you forgotten we're so called friends which means we need to seem completely transparent not be obvious and that means we have meetings every now and then. He runs the underworld, for now, and we're his friends." She smiles poisonously. "So we talk and we act. But you cannot be a part of it."

"Trust me, I wouldn't want to be." I tell her. "I'm leaving, I just wanted to keep you updated as you wished. It went well, didn't it, Butch?"

"I wasn't listening." He tells me and I roll my eyes before turning to the ladies.

"Well, he offered me a job." I say, loving to be able to impress them even though I try to tell myself I have nothing to prove to any of them. "He seems to like me."

"Or he's lulling you into a false sense of security and stabs you in the back once he's sure you've been playing him." Tabitha points out.

"He's not that smart." Barbara tells her before turning to me with a smile. "Good job, Eddie."

"Personally I think he's smarter than you." I reply, ignoring her compliment just like I ignore her insults. "But his weakness, to me, seems to be that deep down he wishes good from people. So much that he might even see the goodness where there is none."

"He's not that naive, how do you think he has survived this long if he expects good from everyone?" Barbara demands.

"I didn't say he's naive, neither did I say he expects good from everyone." I say, starting to get tired of explaining things to them. "Like I said, he's smart, that's how he has survived. You think people have treated him nice? People threaten him, try to take advantage of him and he has learned when to bend not to break. But when someone, me, for instance, comes and acts nice.. I'm pretty sure he wants to believe in the good he sees. I said he was smart, not stupid, and I never said he was naive, I just said that's his weakness. We all got one. Most of us more than one."