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The Penguin and the Raven	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 500 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman/DC Comics, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
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He holds me up like a babe
Pressing close, I can't behave
I need to have this little death
I'm up against his downy chest
Black Acres, Elysian Fields
“What’s this party for?” I asked, climbing into the car next to Oz.
“It’s an election fundraiser. Mayor Hill schmoozes some rich people, gaining their money and support for his campaign against his opposition.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, gently pulling me close.
“And we’re going because Falcone basically owned the mayor, so now you do, right?”
“You’re catching on fast.”
He leaned in to kiss me, but hesitated.
“What is it?” I was a little hurt, thinking I’d done something wrong.
“I don’t want to smudge your lipstick. You look so perfect.”
“Oh it’s okay! I came prepared.” I rubbed my lip with my finger, showing him nothing came off. “See? Kiss proof. Even with the way you kiss.”
He slid his hand round the back of my neck, drawing me close. “We should test it, make sure it works.”
There was a moment, and then he started kissing me. I’d never wanted to be touched by someone as much as I did every time I was with him. I could control myself, but I didn’t want to.
After a few minutes, we arrived at the museum, where the party was. I checked my makeup in my hand mirror, satisfied when I saw my lipstick had held up.
“Hey…” I took hold of his arm before he got out. “I’ve never been to a party like this, and I don’t know…”
“Just be yourself.” He played with the black ribbon I was using as a choker. “You’ll do fine, love.”
He got out, reaching in to help me. I took his hand, standing beside him, gently readjusting his tie.
“Ready to go in?” He asked.
I nodded, taking hold of his arm. We headed inside, where the party was just beginning. He gently pulled me through the crowd, to the bar. He handed me a champagne, sliding his arm around my waist.
“Oz?” I heard a voice call.
Turning, I felt surprise cross my face when I saw Bruce Wayne approaching us.
“It’s been a long time, Brucie.” Oz squeezed me gently. “This is Brianna.”
“Pleasure.” I held my hand out, and Bruce pressed a kiss to it.
“May I steal her for a dance?” He asked, looking over at Oz, who nodded.
“If she’s fine with it.”
I nodded, letting him walk me onto the floor. I knew a little about dancing, but I was glad when he took the lead.
“How long have you known Oz?” I looked up at him, curious as to why he’d asked me to dance.
“We were friends as children.” He studied my face in return. “But I haven’t seen him since his mother was institutionalised.”
I was quiet for a moment. “I assume you asked me to dance because you wanted to say something in private.”
“He’s dangerous. And I need to know what he’s up to.”
“And you think I’ll give you that information?” I almost laughed.
“I thought you might be reasonable and consider the situation you’re in.”
“I’m well aware of the situation I’m in, Mr Wayne. And I don’t plan on betraying his trust, especially not to someone I don’t know.” I pulled away. “Find another source of information.”
“Can I cut in?”
I turned, finding Oz standing there. Nodding, I took his hand, and he swept me into the crowd. The music had sped up to waltz, and he guided me through it.
“Thanks for the rescue.”
“You were getting a thoroughly annoyed look on your face.” He pulled me close, his hand on my waist. “What did he say to you?”
“He told me you were friends as kids. Then he tried to get information about why you came back to Gotham.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Of course not.” I shook my head, indignantly. “I politely told him to fuck off.”
He grinned. “I bet you did. It’s not easy to fend off the upper class.”
I shrugged, trying not to trip as we moved around the floor. Waltzing was not as easy as movies and TV made it seem, and I was worried that I would embarrass myself.
“You’re not a dancer, are you?” He asked, sensing my hesitation.
“Not at all.” I laughed.
“Come on.” He squeezed my hand and we walked up the stairs to the second floor.
I leaned on the railing, looking out over all the people. It all seemed so fake, like they were all just pretending to enjoy each other’s company. It was not the kind of place I particularly enjoyed being in. At least where I was from, they were obvious about hating someone. They told you right to your face, often with a fist. But there was no pretence, and I preferred it that way.
Oz rested his hand on my lower back, and I turned to face him.
“Why are we up here?” I asked quietly.
“The Mayor will be up in a few minutes to talk. I thought that since you don’t really like dancing, we could come up a little earlier.”
“And do what?” I bit my lip, knowing the likely answer, but I liked it when he initiated things. I was beginning to understand how he worked, and the way he would take control from me, but without making me feel hurt or in danger.
He kissed me, his hand drifting over my body as he pressed me up against the railing. He was so close against me that I was a little concerned I would fall, and I clung to him a little tighter.
“I won’t let you fall.” He reassured me, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
I nodded, taking a breath. Then I saw the mayor coming up the stairs and gently pushed him away.
“Ah, Mayor Hill.” He turned. “I’m glad you decided to come talk.”
“You didn’t leave me much of a choice. If that information gets out, my life is ruined.” Hill replied, lighting up a cigarette.
I flinched as the smell of the smoke hit me, making me twitchy. Squeezing Oz’s hand, I stepped away and sat down on a nearby bench, breathing deep and trying to get the scent out of my nose. But it felt like it was getting harder and harder to fight it, and I just wanted to give into the craving.
I didn’t realise how long I’d been sitting there, until I suddenly noticed Oz was beside me. He took hold of my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingers.
“How long has it been since you smoked?” He asked.
“Nearly a year.” I sighed. “Everyone tells me it’s supposed to get easier, but that hasn’t happened yet.”
He was quiet, softly playing with the fabric on my dress. Then he kissed me, just once.
“Let’s get out of here.” He whispered, helping me up.
We headed back to the car, but he stopped me before I got in.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
I shook my head, trying not to betray my emotion. “No… There’s something I have to do.”
He studied my face, clearly wanting to ask, but to his credit he decided not to push it. I was glad, because I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Here, Boss.” Butch placed a hard drive in front of him. “Hill had me pick this up for you this morning. He says it’s everything you asked for.”
He took it, plugging it into his computer. Looking up, he realised Butch hadn’t left yet.
“Is there something else?” He asked.
“You asked me to find out why Brianna’s phone is off.” He looked over at him.
“And? What did you find out?”
“She’s at the cemetery.”
There was a moment’s silence, then he spoke. “That will be all, Butch.”
“Yes, Boss.”
He watched him leave, then leaned back against his chair. His thoughts were on her, and why she hadn’t been willing to tell him what she was doing.
I sat down in front of the gravestone, placing the violets I’d bought on the grass.
“I brought your favourites again this year.” I whispered, wiping some tears off my cheeks. “I remember how happy you would always get when I would pick one on my way home from school.”
Looking up, I let everything I was holding back come out. Eyeliner was streaming down my cheeks, because I’d put my makeup on in a haze and hadn’t thought about wearing waterproof, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel.
“I miss you so much, Dad. I don’t know if you’re proud of me, but I just wish you were here to see how well my life is going.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m sorry that I dated Slade, and I probably always will be, but things are improving now. I started going to the gym again a couple of months ago, and I even pulled out my sketchbook to draw a few days ago.”
The silence was always so empty, even though I felt like he was listening. All I wanted was to make him proud, but now that he was gone, I had no way of knowing if he was. All I had were one-sided conversations and violets.
“I’m dating someone better now.” I continued, pulling one of the violets out of the bouquet. “I guess the bar was pretty low for that, but he treats me much nicer too. You would have liked him.”
I sat there, on the cold grass, thinking about how much I missed painting with him. How he always found time for me, even amongst all his work from Falcone.
After a while, the silence was broken by footsteps behind me, and I knew the Oz had finally turned up. The sound stopped a few metres back, and I didn’t turn.
“You can come sit down, Oz.” I said, quietly.
He walked over, sitting on the grass beside me. “How did you know?”
“Butch’s men aren’t very subtle.” I pointed to the man dressed in black I’d noticed near the entrance. “I figured once you realised my phone was off, you’d probably send someone to find me.”
I saw the sheepish look on his face and shook my head. “Relax, I’m not mad or anything.”
He held out his hand to me, sliding his fingers between mine when I took it. He stayed silent, waiting for me to talk first.
“I’m sorry for not telling you.” I began, eventually. “This is the first time I’ve been back here since I found out Slade killed Dad, and I just… it’s all really raw again.”
“Shh, love.” He squeezed my hand. “I know how hard it can be.”
“I probably look like such a sight.” I gave him a sad smile.
“You look a little like Alice Cooper.” He laughed, brushing some tears from my cheeks. “But a far more beautiful version.”
I laughed, leaning against him.
“I’m ready to go home now.” I placed the violet down with the others, then realised my heels were going to make it hard to stand. “I might need some help getting up.”
He stood, reaching down and effortlessly pulling me up against him. When we made it back to the car, I rifled through my bag, looking for my small packet of makeup wipes.
“Here, let me.” He took one from me, gently wiping the black off my cheeks.
I looked up at him, trying not to cry again. He was taking care of me, even when I was looking my worst, and it was nice. He caught me looking, and smiled.
“You’re staring.” He wiped the last of my eyeliner off.
“Should I stop?”
“Yes, but only because I want to kiss you now.” He ran his hand along my thigh, pulling my leg across him as he kissed me.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Penguin and the Raven