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Jim approached the Van Dahl manor with the expression of a man who was heading towards his own execution. He parked the car and peered at the house with a grimace: in the brilliant sunshine even this gothic architectural masterpiece looked less gloomy. He let out a breath, got out of his car and walked to the manor as slowly as possible without looking like a complete idiot.
The reason why Jim Gordon was hesitant about meeting with Oswald Cobblepot was simple: he had lost a bet to him a few days ago, and he was sure that the mayor was going to make him do something embarrassing. All Jim knew was that they were going to attend Gotham’s Spring Festival, and he was sure that this event offered many opportunities to Oswald to have his revenge on Jim.
Three days ago, Jim and Oswald were relaxing on Jim’s sofa, a bit tipsy from the port wine they had consumed. Their inhibitions melting away, the two were sitting very close to each other, their shoulders and thighs flush against the others’. They were watching a silly game show on the TV, only paying attention half a mind while they were lazily talking.
“She’s going to lose all her money,” Oswald mumbled.
Jim snorted. “Impossible, she already has twenty thousand. She’s going to win this round too.”
“Wanna bet?” Oswald asked and grinned as Jim turned his head, measuring him slowly. “Hurry up, she’s going to choose soon.”
The alcohol slowed down Jim’s thoughts. He licked his lips and drawled. “Yeah, fine.”
It was only after the woman had indeed lost her money to the surprise of the entire studio that Jim realised how reckless he had been. They hadn’t even settled what the bet was going to be about.
“So, Jim… it seems you lost this time.”
The detective grunted. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, you know the Spring Festival is coming up…”
“I already promised I would go with you.”
Oswald grinned and gently turned Jim’s head by his chin. “I know and I am grateful,” he whispered with wide eyes, briefly glancing at Jim’s mouth. “I’ll come up with something for it.”
Jim could only swallow nervously.
When Olga opened the door, she smiled at Jim ‒ he had been a frequent visitor in the past couple of months after he and Oswald had finally sat down and discussed their issues.
“Mr. Cobblepot is in the living room, he’s waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Olga.”
Oswald was just about to button his vest when he noticed in the mirror Jim entering the room. He smiled at the detective, then looked down with a blush.
“I’m glad you came, James. It’s good to see you.”
Jim gulped; even though his heart skipped a beat, he couldn’t reciprocate the mayor’s kind words. Instead, he just nodded and watched as Oswald put on purple cufflinks and finally his suit jacket.
“So…”
“Should we go?” Jim asked, hoping that Oswald forgot about the bet.
“My outfit is not complete.” Oswald smiled as he turned around. “And neither is yours, for that matter.”
Jim watched with wide eyes as Olga brought in two boxes and hoped for all that was holy that they didn’t contain pink tutus. Oswald opened the first one and carefully took out a very colourful flower crown which made Jim panic.
“What better way to celebrate spring than with flowers?” Oswald asked and placed the crown on his head.
It was huge, vibrant and very, very conspicuous.
“Are those fresh flowers?” Jim asked, stepping closer and touching one orange petal carefully. It felt real.
“Of course.”
Jim had to admit that the flower crown was a masterpiece: the pink, purple and orange ranunculus flowers were interwoven with leaves, dark berries and hellebores. The flower crown looked so delicate, but at the same it conferred Oswald magnificence. He looked like a magical woodland creature.
“I hope you will like yours,” Oswald said and when Jim looked in his eyes with trepidation, he could see a spark of amusement in Oswald’s green eyes.
The flower crown might have looked pretty, but Jim would not wear such a flashy accessory, silly bet be damned. He inhaled sharply as Oswald opened the second box, expecting a blinding monstrosity.
Instead, Oswald took out a modest crown made of dark and light blue delphiniums.
“I thought you’d prefer a simpler crown,” Oswald smiled lopsidedly, as if reading Jim’s mind.
The detective breathed out and stooped a bit, so that Oswald could crown him. Jim felt his cheeks flush as the gangster lightly pushed him in front of the mirror, examining his friend with a pleased smile. The delicate chain of delphiniums rested perfectly over Jim’s brow, the shades of blue bringing out his eyes. Perhaps this wasn’t the worst thing Oswald could have asked of Jim.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Although Oswald’s limousine was big enough for them to sit comfortably, they ended up squished together. Jim didn’t mind, far from it ‒ he wasn’t sure when they became so close, but he needed Oswald’s proximity, ever more desperately. He also wasn’t sure where they stood in their relationship; they had never talked about it with Oswald, just grew together and in the process somehow they managed to get tangled into each other.
Jim had almost forgotten about their unusual headwear until they arrived to the Spring Festival’s location and saw all the people and reporters milling about. He couldn’t step out of the car, he would not be made into Gotham’s laughing stock.
“Relax, James,” Oswald said, placing his hand on Jim’s clenched fist. “No one cares about what you’re wearing. Just look around, everyone put on something funny or colourful.
Oswald was right; there were people wearing bunny or chicken costumes, dresses in blinding neon colours, extravagant hats and hairstyles. They finally got out of the car, and although the arrival of the mayor was a bit of a sensation for the press, they soon let the two men go when one of Gotham’s elite arrived with his new eye candy.
“Come on, let’s visit the food stalls,” Oswald suggested.
This proved to be a good idea, as every vendor rushed to indulge the mayor and his companion, offering them their best products. Oswald and Jim got to taste specialties from various countries, desserts and sweet wines. One of the vendors even gifted them a bottle of strawberry wine after the mayor praised it highly.
“This will come in handy at our next get together,” Oswald whispered to Jim. “See, being friends with the mayor has some perks.”
“Yes, clearly the free food and booze is the only reason why I bear with you.”
Oswald looked at him with raised eyebrows, his smile widening. “Clearly.”
They had twenty minutes left before Oswald was due at the flower competition, so they walked slowly, enjoying the sunny weather and music filtering from one of the stages where the various dance groups of Gotham presented their skills. From time to time, people would stop them to greet Oswald or wish him a nice day. The bolder ones even asked for a selfie.
Jim knew that the people liked their new mayor, but he wasn’t aware that he was so beloved. He smiled when an overeager mother pushed their baby daughter in Oswald’s arms and fiddled with her camera. The little girl looked at Oswald with wide eyes, her plump hand reaching out for Oswald’s flower crown.
“You like my crown, don’t you?” Oswald cooed.
After the picture was taken, Oswald kissed the baby’s rosy cheek and gave her back to her mother who thanked him profusely. Jim watched him curiously; before, he never wanted to see behind Oswald’s manipulative nature, tried to categorise him as a ruthless criminal, but Oswald was more interesting and multifaceted than that.
“I’m sorry about all the interruptions, Jim.”
“Don’t worry, I understand. You’re a VIP now,” Jim said, laughing when Oswald lightly punched his arm.
“Well, fancy seeing you here,” Harvey’s loud voice boomed before his hands landed on Jim’s and Oswald’s shoulders. To the detective’s credit, he only blinked a few times when he noticed the flower crowns. “Hmm, didn’t take either of you for hippies. Flower power and all that.”
“We’re not,” Jim grunted, his gaze landing on the two women who were approaching Oswald.
“Detective Bullock, would you entertain Jim for an hour or so? I have mayoral duties to attend.”
“Sure, sure. Come on, Jimbo, let’s get some beers.”
“I’ll see you later,” Jim whispered to Oswald as he touched his back, smugness filling his chest when Oswald looked back at him even as the two women were dragging him towards the flower exhibition.
“This thing with Penguin is getting serious,” Harvey later stated as they sat down at a table with their beers.
“I guess,” Jim looked to the side, ignoring his blush.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. I mean, everyone knew he’s had a crush on you since forever, and you were always sweet on him.”
“I was not,” Jim protested, but it sounded weak even to his ears.
“Whatever, partner. You seem to be happier, so that’s all I care about.”
Harvey and Jim were enjoying a second round of drinks when the music stopped and the Flower Committee marched on stage, together with Oswald, who was tasked with announcing the winners of the competition and handing them the gifts. At the end, he went back to the microphone for a short speech.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming to Gotham’s first Spring Festival,” Oswald waited as the crowd applauded. “I hope you’re all having a great time, enjoying good food, music and cheer. Don’t miss The Cameos concert later tonight!”
“Would you mind if I went to Oswald?” Jim asked after the crowd started dispersing.
Harvey sighed. “No, I can see you’re anxious to get back to your date.”
“He’s not my…”
“Save it,” Harvey guffawed as he held up a hand. “See you on Monday.”
Jim nodded and went to the backstage, hoping to catch Oswald in a more secluded area. The detective had timed his arrival perfectly; Oswald was just saying goodbye to the Flower Committee. After they left, Oswald turned towards Jim, his attention only on the detective as he closed the short distance between them. In that moment, as the sunshine was falling perfectly on Oswald, Jim knew he was lost. Oswald looked like a spring deity blessing the mortal world with his presence, bringing about sunshine, birdsong and joy.
“I was just about to-”
The mayor had no time to finish his sentence; Jim cupped his face and kissed him with quiet urgency, capturing Oswald’s top lip between his lips. Then Jim’s tongue shot out, tasting the sweetness of all the desserts Oswald had tried in the fair. At first Oswald tensed, but soon he melted against Jim, his hands settling on the detective’s hips. Jim hummed with satisfaction and broke the kiss to have a look at his date.
Oswald had his eyes closed, but there was a satisfied smile on his face which only grew wider by the second. Jim caressed Oswald’s cheekbones with his thumbs until the gangster opened his eyes.
“You never fail to surprise me, Jim.” Oswald moved one of his hands to Jim’s hair, brushing it and setting his flower crown straight.
“Have you finished your mayoral duties here?” Jim asked as his nose brushed against Oswald’s, pressing light kisses to his soft cheek.
“I have,” Oswald replied, turning his head so he could peck Jim’s lips, his fingers caressing Jim’s neck where he had unbuttoned his shirt. “How about we go back to the manor and enjoy that strawberry wine we got?”
“I’d love that.”
Jim kissed him once more before taking Oswald’s hand and leading him through the crowd.
Maybe wearing flower crowns wasn’t so terrible.