Chapter Text
Everything was perfectly planned, down to every second. Oswald Cobblepot had given his staff free days over the holidays, so that no one would see or hear anything. One could never be careful enough. He would take a train to an undisclosed location early the next morning, then hire a cab and finally make it to his secret cottage, where he’d spend a few days with the one person who still loved him unconditionally.
Despite the wealth Oswald had, there was one thing he couldn’t control: the weather. It was past ten in the evening and he had barely managed to make it to the railway station. He said goodbye to his driver and pulled up his lapels against the icy wind. Nevertheless, his cheeks became red and the hems of his trousers were wet in the short trip it took him to get inside the building. He stomped his feet to get rid of the snow stuck to his boots.
Unfortunately, those were the least of his problems. Oswald soon found out that all the trains were either cancelled or delayed with many, many hours. His, of course, was cancelled and the queue in front of the information desk was huge. Naturally, if he wanted to, he could get to the front, but he tried to remain inconspicuous.
Oswald retreated to an empty nook of the old building and cursed silently. How was it possible that a single snowfall suddenly paralysed the city? Well, not exactly paralysed as cars could still drive. But the railway system was always so unreliable. He threw in the bin the ticket he’d purchased weeks prior. Maybe if he tried, he could still get ahold of Tom, his driver.
He wasn’t lucky, though. Oswald tried some of his other employees, but it always went straight to voicemail. Great, everyone was happy to get rid of him so easily. He wasn’t sure what he could do, perhaps hail a cab and maybe convince the driver to do the very long trip for a nice sum of money.
However, the few cabs that still circulated just drove past him and Oswald started shivering after a while, his coldness and desperation growing inside him. He had to get there, he absolutely had to, even if he would have to walk. So he pushed up his lapels again and made sure that his fur cap was sitting right on his head, covering his ears, before he started sauntering down the empty streets.
Tears stung his eyes as Oswald faced the strong wind and he kept his head down, not looking anyone in the eye. He heard a car coming from behind and then it slowed down, the driver opening his window.
“Hey, do you need a ride?”
Under normal circumstances, Oswald would have just shaken his head and keep walking, but he actually knew the voice. The shock made him stop and look over. Sure enough, Captain James Gordon was sitting behind the wheel, his eyes widening when he recognised the lost traveller.
“Oswald, what are you doing here?”
There was no point in running away or ignoring the man - not that Oswald could do either of those - so he stepped closer to the window.
“James, what a surprise! I-I, well, I was supposed to take a train, but it was cancelled.”
“So what, you thought you’d walk?” Jim laughed incredulously. “Come on, hop inside.”
“No, no, I can’t, I don’t want to impose on you,” Oswald protested, even though his frozen legs were begging him to seek out some warmth.
“You won’t. Stop being stubborn and get inside the car!”
Well, he couldn’t fight against that commanding tone now, could he? Oswald got inside and breathed with relief at the cosy atmosphere. He took off his gloves and rubbed his hands together as Jim slowly advanced on the road. Jim even cranked up the heating.
“Thank you, Jim, appreciate it.”
“Sure, no problem. So where are you going?”
Oswald should have anticipated the question, but he still froze. “Um, well, to, uh, visit some family.”
Jim raised his eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t know you had any left.”
“Some cousins. From dad’s side, so I don’t really know them,” Oswald lied and hoped that Jim would be satisfied with the answer, but the detective’s expression remained suspicious.
“I’m also visiting relatives. So, which direction are you going in?”
“Uhh, Baltimore?”
“Really? Interesting, I am also going that way,” Jim said, looking at Oswald briefly before he concentrated his attention on the snowy road, but something in his tone made Oswald think that he’d have to prepare for more questions.
“Why didn’t you wait for tomorrow? Maybe the weather will improve. No point in catching a cold by walking in a snowstorm at midnight.”
Oswald huffed. “It’s imperative that I make it there by tomorrow morning. I’m expected by eight the latest.”
“Okay.” Jim frowned. “I can get you there.”
Oswald started worrying because Jim was surely thinking that he was involved in something illegal. “T-that won’t be necessary, just get me out of this storm and drop me off at a bus or train station.”
“Is there a reason why you don’t want me to meet your cousins?”
“No,” Oswald grunted, crossing his arms. In order to distract Jim, Oswald decided to ask his own questions. “So why are you on the road at such an hour and in such ungodly weather?”
Jim pinched his lips. “I could only take a few days off, so I decided to make most of it.”
There was a moment of silence, then Jim continued: “Or well, that’s the official version. The truth is that my mom bullied me into it.”
“Surely she doesn’t want you to drive in such conditions!” Oswald exclaimed, looking over at Jim with wide eyes.
Jim laughed. “No, not really, but she’ll complain if I don’t stay enough.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about your mother before,” Oswald said, curious to hear more.
“Well, I’m trying not to mix my work and personal life.”
Oswald hummed and watched the dense snowfall as they inched their way out of the city. Gotham looked so different under the blanket of snow - calmer and purer, an otherworldly beauty setting over it. Although Oswald wasn’t particularly fond of winter - icy sidewalks were dangerous and the cold made his ankle hurt more - he loved watching it from a warm place. Although his trouser legs were still wet, his body had warmed up.
“Let me know if you see the exit for the gas station,” Jim said as he leaned forward. “The visibility is so damn low.”
“I’m sorry you have to drive in this blizzard.”
“It’s alright, just want to make sure we have enough gas. Don’t want to get stuck in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’d rather not either,” Oswald agreed.
After five minutes, Oswald noticed a sign for the gas station and Jim pulled over. “If you want, you can stay here, but I also wanted to buy some food for the road, so it might take a while.”
“I’ll go inside, need to stretch my leg,” Oswald said and they both got out.
While Jim was pumping gas, Oswald hurried inside. His eyes fell on the toy section and even though the bag on Jim’s backseat was full with presents for Martin, he was still attracted to the colourful toys. He looked through them, finally settling on a cute polar bear that was wearing a green hat and scarf.
“Seen anything?” Jim suddenly appeared by his side, making Oswald jump.
“Maybe,” Oswald said and he didn’t miss the surprised look on Jim’s face when he notices the plushie in Oswald’s hand.
“I’m going to grab some snacks, do you want something?”
“Not particularly.”
Oswald waited while Jim picked some snacks, unable to stifle a giggle as Jim returned with arms full of colourful packages.
“What? I need to drive all night and chewing on stuff will help me stay awake,” Jim explained.
“Of course, Jim.”
“Besides, it’s for two people.”
Oswald blushed, looking away.
The Captain placed everything on the counter and the sleepy cashier started scanning the items. Jim was about to take his wallet out, but Oswald stopped him. He gave the cashier his card, then turned back to Jim. “I’m paying since you’re going out of your way to help.”
“That’s not tr-”
“Please, James. Consider this holiday kindness, if you will.”
Jim nodded, taking the bag from the cashier. They hurried back to the car and took off their coats, Jim tossing them onto the backseat. He placed the bag with goodies between their seats and first thing he pulled out of it was the polar bear, holding it up with a smile.
“Let’s put it on the dashboard,” Jim said and tried to reach the corner on Oswald’s side.
The gangster froze for a second as Jim leaned over his lap and he got a whiff of his cologne. Oswald closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of mandarin and sandalwood, committing it to his memory. The polar bear now stared at them with his shiny black eyes.
“You know I didn’t get it for you.”
“Figured as much,” Jim laughed.
He pulled out a bag of Doritos, opened it and offered it to Oswald. The gangster hesitated first, as he had developed a different palat in the past years, but this was a special occasion, so he could indulge himself a bit.
“Alright, let’s do this,” Jim said as he exited the parking lot and drove back onto the road.
They were silent, except for the crunching sounds they made while eating. About ten minutes later, however, they had to stop as there were some cars in front of them.
“Damn, I wonder what is happening,” Jim said.
After a couple of minutes, Oswald started tapping his foot. He watched as Jim opened a can of coke and while the detective wasn’t looking, he checked his phone. He wondered whether he should send any texts to alert his man of the delay, but perhaps it was too early.
“If we don’t move in the next five minutes, I’m going to turn around and try the I-78,” Jim announced, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
“What? But that route is much longer, it will take us at least an additional hour!”
“Better than being stuck here.”
“Absolutely not! You have no idea in what state that highway is! What if it’s completely snowed in?” Oswald’s panic rose by the second. He couldn’t risk this.
“Sometimes you have to gamble in life, Oswald.”
“Don’t you dare gamble my time with M-,” Oswald stopped suddenly, shutting his eyes. Deep breath. “I know it is your car and you’re driving, James, but I told you I cannot risk not getting there in time.”
“As you said, my car, my rules.” Jim looked around before he got out from the lane and onto the other one, swerving carefully.
“God, why can’t you just listen to me for once?!”
“I am. You keep telling me how you need to get to Baltimore in time, so I’m taking you there. Stop whining!”
Oswald was becoming hysteric. “Great, another one of your absolutely foolproof plans! Like you said you’d get rid of Sofia and then needed me to clean up after your mess.”
A nerve quivered in Jim’s jaw and Oswald was afraid that he went too far. “I thought that was forgotten, but you never forget or forgive anything, do you, Oswald? You always have to rub it in.”
“How could I forget when you seem intent to go against me, even when working with me is clearly the better alternative. But if that helps you sleep at night…”
Jim stepped on the gas and Oswald had to hold on to the dashboard. “Slow down, you madman, or you’ll get both of us killed!”
“Shut up,” Jim growled, but at least he slowed down. “You can hate me all you want, but trust me on this one, alright?!”
Oswald’s mouth opened, but he just didn’t have the energy to deny Jim. He crossed his arms and slumped against his seat, watching the snowy fields and the very long line of cars. He had many fights with Jim along the years and Oswald had to admit that a lot of time he provoked the detective on purpose, goaded him until Jim stepped into his personal space and yanked him by his tie or backed him against a wall. Embarrassing or not, that seemed to be the only way he could get close to Jim.
The road in that direction was fairly empty and they made it back to the conjunction in twenty minutes. Oswald’s stomach clenched uncomfortably as they turned onto the I-78, but this highway seemed to be fine, the circulation was normal, albeit slower.
He could feel Jim’s eyes on him for a second; in fact, they both had been glancing at each other, unable to say anything. They were both so stubborn and they had a long history behind them. Oswald wanted to apologise, but he wasn’t sure how to start or if Jim would even listen. Pride was such a terrible quality.
With a sigh, Jim turned on the radio to fill the silence. The sweet cords of Blue Christmas took over and Oswald swallowed, remembering the humble holidays his mother and he would have in their tiny apartment. Gertrud was always such a big admirer of Elvis and she often made Oswald dance with her to his songs even when the vinyl stopped, just humming into Oswald’s shoulder.
Oswald sniffled and quickly wiped with the tip of his index finger a stray tear from the corner of his eye. He glanced at Jim, but it seemed like the detective was miles away, he too lost in memories. As hard as it was, there was no point in being upset with each other.
In the passing light of a lamp, Oswald’s eyes fell to a candy bar on the top of the bag. He took it and opened it, then cleared his throat. “Jim… would you like some chocolate?”
Jim looked at him, surprised. “Sure. Thanks.”
The slight smile on the detective’s face made something hurt inside Oswald’s ribcage. He reciprocated it with his own shaky smile as Jim broke off half of the Snickers bar.
“The other half is for you.”
“Thank you,” Oswald murmured into his chest, overwhelmed by Jim’s reconciliatory gesture. “I apologise for, uh, earlier. For freaking out.”
“That’s alright, it happens. This period is stressful for everyone.”
Oswald laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
Jim bit his lip, then looked at Oswald. “Why is it so important that you get to your cousins by eight? Are you going somewhere?”
“Always the detective, Jim. Tell me more about your plans, maybe I’ll share more about mine.”
Jim snorted. “Always the businessman, Oswald.”
“It’s how I survived.”
“Alright. Well, there’s not much to say. My mom, her sister, my brother and his family will be there.”
“Nice. So you’re an uncle then?”
“I have three nieces,” Jim said with a smile. “My trunk is full of barbie dolls.”
Oswald laughed. It was so strange to imagine Jim as an uncle, but he was sure that he was wonderful to the girls. His mind briefly wandered to Jim playing with Martin and Oswald had to rub his chest, because it felt as if someone had stabbed him with a dagger.
“What about your cousins? Do they have kids?”
“Yes, there’s a boy.”
Jim nodded. “So the polar bear is for him?”
“Yes. Can’t go with empty hands.”
Jim nodded understandingly. “Here’s some advice, though: don’t ever get a live animal for the kid. Your cousins might not appreciate the idea as much as the kids.”
Oswald turned to wards Jim with a grin. “Sounds like you have a lot of experience. Tell me more.”
“I got a puppy for my nieces. My biggest wish as a kid was to get a dog and it never happened, so I thought I’d surprise the girls,” Jim smiled wistfully.
“Well, I agree, you should have asked your brother before, but it was a nice thought.”
“Yeah, in retrospect it seems logical… that was three years ago, Princess is now a part of the family. But that Christmas was pretty rough. I haven’t been home since then.”
“Really?”
Jim was silent for a minute. “My mom is nagging me every year, of course, but I managed to use the excuse that I need to work so far. This year she wouldn’t let me, though.”
“That’s strange. I mean, you would think that she’d cut you some slack since you became captain.”
“I think she has ulterior motives,” Jim grumbled.
“Oh yes, sounds like she wants you to spend more time with your family.”
“Not that. She wants me to make up with Roger.”
Oswald stayed quiet; he doubted Jim wanted to reveal as much as he’d already done, so he thought that asking more questions would make things worse, even though he was dying to know what happened between Jim and his brother.
“It’s just a few days, Jim. You’ll survive. If you want, you can always feign an emergency. I could call you and ask as your mayor to return to Gotham.”
“You’re not the mayor anymore, Oswald.”
“No, but your brother doesn’t know that, does he?” Oswald’s grin widened as Jim started smiling.
“Alright, it’s always good to have a plan B.”
Oswald wanted to tell Jim that he could always join him for Christmas, but it wasn’t possible. He could not risk Martin, not even for Jim. While Oswald was absorbed into his thoughts, the radio played another slow song which made Oswald’s heavy eyelids droop.
“You should probably try to catch some sleep,” Jim advised, looking at Oswald as they passed an illuminated portion.
“I don’t want to let you drive alone,” Oswald said, trying to fight sleep.
“I promise not to end up in a ditch.”
“It’s not that.”
“Oh.” Even though it was dark, Oswald was quite sure that Jim was blushing. “I’ll be alright with the music and food, no worries. Unless the music bothers you?”
“No, no, it’s fine, quite soothing actually,” Oswald said, voice muffled as he suppressed a yawn.
He took his coat and folded it, pressed it against the window and leaned against it. Oswald listened to the lyrics of The Christmas Song , his breathing gradually slowing. Soon, Nat King Cole’s soft voice put him to sleep.
A few hours later, Oswald woke up to Jim humming along to Let It Snow , tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. It had to be around dawn as the sky was a lighter blue. Any other person would have looked strange in that light, but Jim was beautiful, even ethereal.
The sight made him smile and he blinked a few times, still fighting against sleep. He was so warm and comfortable when a whiff of sandalwood reached his nose. Jim’s cologne… but it was quite strong. Oswald stirred slightly and that was when he noticed that Jim’s coat was draped over him. His chest was invaded by ineffable feelings.
“Oh sorry, did I wake you?” Jim asked when he noticed Oswald peeking out at him.
“No, it’s alright. I don’t feel tired anymore.” Oswald sat up properly, folding Jim’s coat. “Thank you,” he said quietly, wishing he could sniff the coat for longer.
“You’re welcome. Thought you might be cold.”
They both remained silent. Oswald checked his phone - it was a quarter to six. He’d slept almost three hours, so Jim definitely needed a break.
“We should stop at the next gas station, Jim. You’ve been driving for a while, I’m sure you need a beak.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs. Bet you’d like that as well, right?” Jim glanced down at Oswald’s knee.
“Right.”
Jim pulled up at the next gas station. Oswald winced as he got out of the car, the chilly air hitting his sore limbs. Jim waited for him patiently and they entered the small caffe together.
“I’m going to the toilet,” Jim said, indicating the door in the back.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“Yes. Sugar, no milk.”
Oswald sat at a table and gave his order to the sleepy barista. He took out his phone and sent a quick message to his security man, telling him that he would arrive in approximately an hour and a half. Then he went to look around the shop and his eyes were caught by the row of snowglobes. There was one with a black car in the middle, snowy pine trees lining the winding road. Oswald shook it, smiling as the tiny snowflakes fell around the car.
He had to get this for Jim. Oswald looked around and hurried to the cashier, paying for the gift before the detective came back. Once done, Oswald hid it in his coat’s pocket.
When Jim emerged, their orders were also ready and Jim eyed his latte macchiato funnily.
“What?”
Jim laughed. “I don’t know, I just always imagined you as more of a tea person.”
“I do like tea as well, but I think we can both use some caffeine right now.”
“True,” Jim said, closing his eyes as the first sip hit his tongue.
They stayed quiet, watching as the baker brought various trays of goodies from the back and started putting the gingerbread men on display.
“My mother had a fantastic gingerbread recipe. She said it was passed down in the family for centuries,” Oswald said, eating the delicate milk foam from the top of the tall glass.
“Do you still have it?”
Oswald nodded. “Yes. You know, in Hungarian it’s called mézeskalács , which would roughly translate to honey cake. That was her secret, she used honey in the dough.”
“I’m sure it must have been good.”
Oswald remembered all the years when he and his mother would knead the dough, cut various figures and then decorate them when the cookies cooled off. There was a lump in his throat at the thought of not being able to pass on the recipe. He hadn’t had the chance to bake together with Martin, but he wanted to try during these holidays.
“Should we, uh, go?” Jim asked quietly, peering at Oswald with concern.
“Yes, sorry. Was just thinking.”
Jim held the door open for Oswald. “That’s alright. So where exactly are we going?”
“Well, you don’t need to go into Baltimore, just drop me off at Rosedale and I’ll take a cab from there. It’s kind of a remote location.”
“Oswald.”
“What?” the gangster asked as he put on his seatbelt.
“I told you I’m taking you to your destination. Can’t just drop you off in some random town, not in this weather.”
“But, Jim-”
“No buts, Oswald. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you for long. Just want to make sure you get there. See, it’s snowing again, don’t want you to get stuck or something.”
Oswald sighed. He was stubborn, but Jim far surpassed him. Maybe he could quickly slip into the house before Jim could see Martin and then Jim would drive away and everything would go on as before, they would return to their strange frenemies relationship.
Once they reached Rosedale, Oswald directed Jim to a small road that left the town. The road was winding through a pine forest and Oswald looked concerned at the billowing, grey clouds above them. There had definitely been more snowfall in these parts and there would probably be even more. It was seven and three minutes, it would take them more than a quarter hour.
“Are you sure?” Jim asked when Oswald told him to go to the right, on a dirt road.
“Yes. My cousins like their privacy.”
Jim looked at Oswald with raised eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. The gangster was biting his nails, suddenly very nervous. He was not only worried about how everything would unfold with Jim, but also about Martin’s reaction. What if the boy didn’t love him anymore? It had been two months since they met in person, though they had sent letters to each other.
Finally, the cottage came into view and Oswald fidgeted, then undid his seatbelt.
“So this is it,” Jim said as he stopped and looked at Oswald. “See, we got here before eight, as I promised.”
“Thank you, Jim, I cannot even begin to tell you how grateful I am. Really, if there’s anything I could-”
Suddenly, the door was opened with a loud noise. Oswald and Jim both turned their heads and Oswald became very pallid as he saw a curly head peek out. He opened the door quickly and limped towards the door.
“Stay inside!” he yelled, but Martin didn’t listen to him.
The boy ran towards the gangster and Oswald couldn’t stay angry at him as Martin launched himself at him, hugging Oswald with such fierceness that it made his chest flood with a warm feeling. He put one of his arms around Martin’s back, holding his head with the other, fingers caressing his soft curls.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cobblepot, Martin just ran out, I couldn’t stop him,” Mrs. Varga, the lady who had been taking care of the boy, said as she stepped outside, watching the emotional reunion with her hands over her heart.
“Martin, I told you how dangerous it is, you know you should listen to Mrs. Varga. Remember I told you that it could be anybody, maybe bad people. You know you shouldn’t run outside!”
With a trembling lip, Martin quickly took the notepad around his neck a scribbled a quick note. “ But I really missed you :( ”
Oswald’s eyes watered. “I missed you too.”
They hugged again and Oswald closed his eyes at the feel of the small arms holding him so tightly. He looked up when he heard a closing car door and Jim’s steps in the fresh snow.
“So this is the missing boy,” Jim said with his hands on his hips.
“Y-yes, but-”
“And there are no cousins?”
“No, but please, Jim, I can explain.”
The detective didn’t look very convinced.
“Please, Jim. Just come inside and I’ll tell you everything,” Oswald said beseechingly with his hands on Martin’s shoulder.
Finally, Jim inclined his head. “Alright.”
Oswald breathed out and manoeuvred everyone inside, hoping that Jim would understand his reasons and that he would keep his secrets.