#gobblepotsummer2017

Prompt: Storm for #gobblepotsummer2017

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There were lots of ways to say, 'I love you.'

Paint Tool Sai won’t cooperate with me, so you got this instead. Hey, @butterfliesandresistance, this is for youuu~! Also part of #GobblepotSummer2017, picking the “free space” prompt!

Warning: nsfw

For Gobblepot Summer 2017. This was so much fun to write! Tropes...tropes everywhere...you are warned ;-) A/N: Prompt from Bingo Card: Lawn Mower   Time passed in Gotham quickly, with the city that never seemed to sleep. Jim always thought that was Las Vegas, but he was pretty sure it was worse here. Six months had passed since everything with the Tetch virus. Jim and Harvey were working cases again as usual again, but Jim had become more and more distant. Harvey knew Jim carried his guilt like armor, and tried to alleviate it some whenever he could. “You done for the day, partner?” Harvey asked, as Jim gathered his stuff to leave. “Yeah. Shift actually ended an hour ago, but I lost track of time. Nygma has us running in circles,” Jim muttered. “See you tomorrow,” “Yeah,” Harvey said, with a sigh as he watched Jim leave with his shoulders slumped down. “See ya,” He didn’t know what else he could do but to let Jim be. He trudged back to his own office in a huff, snapping at anyone who even looked in his direction to get back to work.   Jim wandered around for a little while, not really wanting to go home to his apartment alone. Again. He had pulled the self-pitying, self-deprecating act for a while now, not being able to help it. He kept thinking over and over…he was a monster; No matter whether he was dosed with the virus or not. All under the umbrella of doing the right thing. He shook his head while he walked. Who the hell knows what the right thing is anymore? He thought. Somehow, Jim lost track of exactly where he was walking and ended up somewhere he never thought he would in a million years. The Iceberg Lounge. Its sign was a bright blue, and flashing right in front of his face. Loud, pulsing music could be heard even from outside, and there was a line halfway around the block, as per usual since it had opened a month ago. Oswald must be doing pretty well for himself, Jim thought. He and Oswald had come to a truce after Jim had killed Fish. Oswald had realized Jim had taken the virus, and even felt sorry for calling him a monster. It didn’t excuse it, as Oswald had said, but it had given reason for the man to not kill Jim on sight. Jim hadn’t ever thought about stepping foot inside the lounge, but…what the hell? Jim thought. What’s one more bad decision? He waited in line with the other patrons, and was let inside about a half hour later. Luckily, Jim was let inside before he could talk himself out of it, and immediately went to the bar to order a drink. There was a rock band performing a series of covers that night; Jim sat at the bar nursing his whiskey and tapping his foot to the music on the stool. The Iceberg wasn’t his scene, but Jim felt oddly comfortable there. No one here knew who he was, or if they did, they didn’t give a flying rat’s ass. That made Jim feel like he could finally breathe after a long day at the precinct where everybody talked in hushed tones behind his back, or looked at him with pity. “Jim! Long time no see,” a voice came up behind him, and Jim felt a hand on his shoulder. Oh, Christ. Jim thought. “Zsasz,” Jim muttered, and immediately flagged down the bartender. He knew he was going to need another drink. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to come in here,” Victor grinned his maniacal grin at him, which made Jim clench his jaw. “Just wanted a drink,” Jim waved his glass a little when the bartender brought it over to him. “Boss will be sad by you not requesting to see him. He’s lonely. I can tell,” Victor sighed a put upon sigh, that Jim knew had to be sarcastic. “Ever since he thawed out lover boy, he never leaves his office. Never lets me have fun so I can catch the green wearing menace, either,” “I don’t want to know,” Jim said, in a gruff tone. “I am still a Detective, Zsasz,” Jim couldn’t help but feel the stab of something resembling jealousy when Zsasz called Nygma ‘lover boy’. He didn’t want to think too hard on that. “Yeah, but what’s a secret between friends?” Zsasz winked, and walked away and Jim shook his head. He tossed back the remaining of his drink, wondering what the hell just happened. -0- A few minutes, or it could have been a long while later, Jim was getting ready to leave when he saw him. Oswald was coming over to him, with a bitter look on his face. That’s never good, Jim thought. “Hello, old friend,” Oswald greeted, with a tight smile. “Enjoying yourself I hope?” “The band is great.” Jim had nothing else to say, and he was mentally kicking himself. How did Oswald Cobblepot make him so nervous? “Thank you. I auditioned them myself,” Oswald said proudly, sparing them a glance. “So, uh…I talked to Zsasz,” Oswald raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh?” “Just to say hi, apparently.” Jim responded. “He is strange, but he’s the best I’ve got. He wasn’t bothering you, I take it?” Oswald asked, shifting his cane to the other hand. “No, no. Just said you weren’t going to leave the office if I was waiting for you. Which I wasn’t. I know you’re busy and—“Jim cut himself off with a sigh. “I just ended up here, I swear. I had no intention to cause trouble.” “I know. I—I usually don’t, but I figured I would make the rounds at least once tonight since it is busy. Did you—need something?” Oswald was curious as to why Jim ‘ended up here’, as he put it. “No. Just got off from work, actually.” “Oh, alright. Well, have a pleasant evening, Jim.” Oswald nodded to him, and walked away. Jim hated how their relationship now had become so distant, but he guessed it had always been like that. When Harvey had found out about the exact reason why Oswald went ‘missing’, and told Jim the whole story…he couldn’t believe it. How Ed’s girlfriend who looked exactly like Kristen Kringle was a product of Indian Hill; how Oswald had fallen for Ed hook, line and sinker and had this woman killed before she could hurt Ed…it was all such a mess, and since Ed believed a completely different story, he had shot Oswald to let him bleed to death. It seemed that Oswald still had feelings for Nygma, however; Due to the fact that Ed was still alive and breathing, Jim thought. He watched Oswald head toward the other side of the bar, and shake hands with a few different people, all whom he probably despised, but played the dutiful host anyway. Before Jim could talk himself out of it, he flipped open his phone and sent a text. Are you busy tomorrow? –J He didn’t expect a reply for a few hours at least, as he left the bar and caught a cab home. As Jim readied himself for bed, he heard his phone buzz on the nightstand from a call coming through. It was Oswald. “Hello?” “What the hell did that mean? If you want information on Ed, I don’t have it. We aren’t really on the best of terms right now, if you catch my drift,” Oswald said on the other line. Jim immediately felt terrible. Oswald thought the only reason Jim asked that was for information. When in reality, he wanted to have lunch. “No, I know you two aren’t. Even if you were, between us, I would never ask that of you. You have been through enough with Ed, and quite frankly, I’ve put you through enough too.” Jim admitted, lying down on the bed. “Well there’s a sentence I never thought I would ever hear from you,” Oswald on his end was relaxing as well, or was trying to, from the comfort of his office. The club was closed, and the cleaning crew was just finishing up when he decided to check his phone. Oswald was furious that Jim had sent him that message at first, but in the end his curiosity gave way. “It can cover a whole myriad of things,” “I know.” Jim muttered,” Oswald began to say something when a knock came on his door. He rolled his eyes. “Can I call you back? One of my crack staff has had the thought to interrupt me while I’m working,” Jim chuckled at that. “Sure,” “I’ll just be a moment,” Oswald said, and hung up the phone. “Come in,” “Boss? I just got the call, and the guy who is scheduled to come to do the yard work tomorrow at the mansion is out sick.” The man informed him, a look of terror in his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake…Well, it needs done, so I’ll find someone else in the morning. Why he waited until after one in the morning to call is beyond me,” Oswald said, in annoyance. “Thank you for informing me,” “No problem, boss,” And the man left without another word. Oswald sat back in his chair and thought about his problem at hand. His grass needed cut, and a bunch of other things around the yard needed done. He couldn’t exactly do it himself, because of his leg. Ivy had enough to do with her greenhouse alone, so he didn’t want to ask her. His father had kept the grounds immaculate, and Oswald did the same as one of the ways he paid homage to his memory. This couldn’t slide…he thought with a huff. Then, an idea struck him. “Oswald?” Jim answered, when his phone rang again. “Jim, yes. I was wondering…why you asked me if I was busy tomorrow,” Oswald asked, tapping his pen on the pad of notes he had in front of him. “I wanted to see if we could have lunch, or something. Just…friends catching up, I guess. Didn’t know if you’d go for it, considering…” Jim admitted. “You see, I am in quite a pickle tomorrow,” Oswald began. “A pickle?” Jim didn’t like where this was going, and debated on hanging up right that second. “Well, I employ all types of people. Chefs, maids, cleaning crew for the club, waitresses, etc. Now, I also employ yard maintenance over the summer months,” Oswald continued, and at Jim’s silence, he carried on. “The issue is, my employee has called out sick. The one who usually takes care of all of that, and I cannot seem to find another. I keep the place up to honor my father’s memory,” “You—you want me to do the work?” Jim asked, in disbelief. “If it’s not too much trouble. I would pay you, of course.” Oswald assured him. Jim debated back and forth for a few moments, but ultimately decided…what the hell? He had the day off tomorrow, so why not? “Sure. Then, maybe we could have lunch after?” “Of course, I would love to,” “So, what time should I be there?” Jim was already starting to regret his decision, considering how hot it had been lately. “Earlier the better, since it does get quite warm these days,” Oswald seemed to read his mind, and it made Jim chuckle. “I was just thinking that, and began to question my decision to help you,” “Doesn’t that always happen?” Oswald joked. He decided to end the call before Jim could back out. “See you in the morning, Jim,” “Yeah. See ya,” Jim said, and heard the other line go dead. Jim laughed once as he set his phone back on the nightstand and clicked the light off. He had to laugh because what even was his life anymore where he was going to Oswald’s mansion in the morning to mow his grass? He fell asleep with a smile on his lips for the first time in ages.   -0-   Jim had set his alarm for 6 am, so he could take advantage of the weather taking a break from the stifling heat. When driving up to the Van Dahl estate, Jim debated several times whether this was a bad idea, and to turn around to head back. In the end, he decided that it wouldn’t be in his best interest to do that, considering the truce he and Oswald had established. The conversation last night had been the most the two had said to each other in months. When Jim finally arrived, he exited the car and was surprised to find how clean and fresh the air was out here. It was light and airy, not close and suffocating like the air in the city sometimes was that threatened to choke the life out of him if he wasn’t too careful. Jim breathed in a sigh of relief with it. “Hello, who are you?” A man came up to ask him, startling Jim. “Jim Gordon,” Jim replied gruffly. “Ah, I see. You are here for grass, yes?” “Yes?” “Carlos. That’s me. I was instructed by Mr. Cobblepot to show you around back to where equipment is, so please follow me,” Carlos motioned for Jim to follow him. Jim set his mouth into a thin line. What was he expecting, for Oswald to show him around himself? Jim shook the thought away as he followed Carlos into the backyard. Jim’s mouth dropped open in shock. It was beautiful. Jim looked around to see many fountains, trickling away causing a soothing sound to Jim’s ears, many flowerbeds bright with pink and red roses, even a vegetable garden off to the one side. “I’m not sure about these,” Jim told Carlos honestly, pointing to the flowerbeds. “Hmm?” Carlos asked, turning around from the shed. “Oh, no no. Mr. Cobblepot does these himself. Oh, and with the help of his friend Ivy. She’s a beauty, that one,” “Ivy…Ivy Pepper?” Jim asked, raising an eyebrow. “Si,” Carlos nodded. “Here is the lawn mower. It’s a riding one, of course since the grounds are so large. Weed whacker over there with the hedge trimmer, gloves over there. Only thing that needs done with that is the front hedges need cut,” “Sounds good. Since the grass is still damp, I’ll just start with the front hedges,” Jim told him. Carlos smiled. “Good, Mr. Jim. Let me know if you need anything,” “Are you O—Mr. Cobblepot’s butler or something?” “No, no. I am head of security.” Carlos said, simply. Jim widened his eyes for just a moment, but righted himself quickly. Carlos nodded to him once, and walked back inside through a back door. Jim shook his head to clear it, and went inside the shed to pick up the hedge clippers. He hadn’t held one of these since before he went in the military, but it looked pretty standard. Nothing fancy, which Jim appreciated. He put on the gloves that he had shoved in his pocket when he got around to the front yard, and slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes from anything that might fly in them. Happened once when he was in high school, and that was enough, Jim thought. He slipped in the headphones that Harvey had lent him a while back that was attached to the only thing he kept from when he was with Barbara, his ipod. The music immediately flooded his ears, and he relaxed a little. Now, Jim remembered why he liked working with his hands so much. He yanked hard on the starter, and it came to life immediately. He set to work on the hedges, noticing they were really out of shape. Must be with all the rain, Jim thought. He hummed to himself as he worked.   Oswald didn’t usually wake up until late morning, considering his nights were rather late nowadays. However, he set his alarm for 8 am, wanting to make sure Jim had arrived. While he got dressed for the day, he sent for Carlos to meet him at the breakfast table. “Did you give him the instructions?” Oswald asked, taking a sip of his tea. “Yes, he finished with the hedges about a half hour ago. He insisted on weeding the front bed as well, which hasn’t been seen to.” Carlos told him. “Ah, well. Jim always liked to go above and beyond,” Oswald chuckled. “Pengy! Who is messing around in the yard?” He heard Ivy screech, and Oswald shut his eyes with the noise. “Screeching, Ivy. We talked about this,” “Sorry. But, who is that? He’s not touching the flowers!” Ivy sat at the table next to Oswald, and fixed him with a stare. “No, of course not. That’s our project together,” Oswald tried soothing her. Ivy was like the little sister he never had, and never knew he wanted. Ivy was so protective of her plants. “How is your latest project going?” “Oh, so awesome! You will never believe what this can do—“Ivy went off on a tangent, which is exactly what Oswald had been going for. Ivy was brought in some breakfast as well, continuing to talk through it. Her mind never tires for a moment, Oswald thought fondly.   About an hour or so later, Oswald wandered into the sunroom, next to Ivy’s greenhouse entrance and was debating on going to offer his assistance to her when he caught the sight of Jim on the lawn outside. His mouth went dry at what he saw; Jim was shirtless. “Oh, my,” Oswald breathed out. He knew he should quit staring, but he couldn’t help it. Jim was all hard muscle, glistening with sweat as he rode around in the hot midday sun on the mower. Oswald could get used to this sight. “What are we looking at?” He heard Ivy’s voice, and felt her walk up beside him. He couldn’t even respond before she saw his line of vision. “Oh, he’s a fox,” “Watch it, young lady!” Oswald scolded. Ivy might look older, but Oswald knew better. “Hey, a girl can look. You were looking,” Ivy threw back, poking him on the shoulder. “Much better than string bean. I mean, he was cute, sure…but look at his chest...” Oswald went red in the face. “Don’t you have work to do?” “Sor-ry,” Ivy drawled out in two syllables. “Just know it’s creepy to stare like that,” Then, her eyes widened and a grin split her face. Oswald didn’t like the look of it one bit. “What?” Oswald asked, in trepidation. “You should go bring him a cold drink. It’s so hot out there…I’m sure would appreciate it,” Ivy waggled her eyebrows and Oswald chuckled. “Ok, get those ideas out of your head, missy. Get back to what you were doing. Go on…shoo,” Oswald teased her. Ivy pecked a quick kiss to Oswald’s cheek, and skipped off to her greenhouse. He shook his head fondly at her back, but thought about what she said. He should bring Jim something to drink, right? He thought. He probably would appreciate it…he walked to the kitchen, and instructed Olga to get some of the lemonade she made yesterday together on a tray with some ice, and a towel. She raised her eyebrows at him at the towel comment, but didn’t say anything. When it was set up, Oswald motioned for her to follow him as he made his way out back to the patio, where Jim was. When he was sure Jim could see them, Oswald waved him over. “Just a sec!” Jim hollered over the noise of the mower, and rode it over to as close to the back patio as he could get. It had to be going on noon now, since the hedges took a while, and with the weeding he added in before he began on the lawn. Jim had to still weed whack by the fountains, and along the fence as well. He tried in vain to wipe some of the sweat off his forehead with his shirt he stuck in his back pocket, but his shirt was soaked. He walked up to where Oswald was standing. “I-I brought you some lemonade,” Oswald stammered out. He made sure his eyes stayed up on Jim’s face, and not on Jim’s bare chest. “Thank you.” Jim went over to the table to where Olga had sat down the tray and gulped down a full glass in one go. “That is good,” he told Olga. She nodded once and went back inside. Jim decided to sit down under the umbrella covered table for just a minute and take a breather. Oswald sat in the chair opposite him, and poured some lemonade for himself. “It got hot really quick,” “I tried to warn you,” Oswald said, chuckling. “I’m surprised you’re still out here, especially dressed like that,” Jim pointed to Oswald’s long sleeved shirt. “Used to it, I guess. Besides, you look cooled off a bit now,” Oswald joked, referencing to Jim’s shirtless state. “My shirt is soaked, and it was really uncomfortable. Plus, I thought I would be done by now, to be honest. I didn’t realize how big this place really was. I still have to weed whack after I’m finished with the lawn,” Jim explained, taking another drink. Oswald watched as he swallowed, Jim’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His mouth went dry yet again, and he took a deep breath to steady his own thoughts. “I will pay you,” Oswald put in. Jim shook his head. “I insist,” Jim shook his head again. “This is not a favor! I must insist that I pay you for the work you’re doing!” “How about this. You can pay me with a few free drinks at your bar. Top shelf stuff. How’s that?” Jim suggested, smiling. “That’s not enough!” Oswald scoffed. He knew how extensive the work was, and how much he paid the other man that usually worked for him. A few free drinks was like tossing pennies in Jim’s direction, which was downright insulting. “It is to me. It’s fine.” Oswald rolled his eyes. He stood up to walk around the grounds a little under the ruse of inspecting, Jim following him. Truth was, he didn’t want to be away from Jim for a little while longer. They talked about the greenhouse that was coming along, thanks to Ivy and how Jim’s work was going for a few minutes, Jim and Oswald being comfortable in each other’s company. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Oswald commented on the flowerbed with roses. “Ivy’s work?” Jim asked. “Of course. Nothing is going on, if that’s what you’re implying. She’s fifteen,” Oswald rose an eyebrow. “I know that, for God’s sake. I’m just happy that she has a safe place to stay,” Jim said. “You think she’s safe here?” Oswald asked, in disbelief. “I can tell you care about her from how you talked about her.” “She’s like a little sister. I will not let anything happen to her. She saved my life when…when I washed up in the river,” Oswald shook his head, ridding himself of the tight feeling in his chest. “That’s unbelievable.” Jim rose both of his eyebrows. “Not like I don’t believe she did, but its just—wow,” Oswald laughed, as they reached the mower. “Well, yes. I am still pretty wow about it, myself. I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything,” Oswald began to turn to head back to the house. Jim stopped him with a touch to his wrist. When he turned around, Jim was grinning. “You want a ride?” “Excuse me? I can’t ride that!” Oswald exclaimed, pointing to the offending mower. Jim smirked. “You’re serious?” “As a heart attack, as Harvey would say,” Jim nodded. “It is a long walk back up there,” “I suppose it is.” Oswald sighed, and conceded. It would save his leg, he thought. “Where am I going to sit? There’s only one seat,” “Behind me. You’ll fit,” Jim told him. He climbed back up on the mower, before he could listen to the screaming part of his brain that asked just what the hell he thought he was doing. He helped Oswald climb up with a hand, and Oswald situated himself behind Jim, holding onto his shoulders. Jim put Oswald’s cane across his own laugh so it didn’t fall. “You better not let me fall,” Oswald growled. Jim laughed, and looked behind him over his shoulder. “Never.” Oswald felt a swoop in the pit of his stomach, to which he couldn’t put a name to. “Well good,” “Ready?” Jim asked, starting the mower again with a roar to life. “If you must, Detective. Ride on,” Oswald hollered over the noise, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Feeling the hard muscle of Jim’s shoulders and being free to look down his back as he held onto him, made Oswald feel hot under his collar; and it wasn’t from the heat. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone since Ed. He didn’t even look in anyone’s direction like that, and he liked it that way. But, of course, Jim fucking Gordon had to bring that crashing to the ground because he took his damn shirt off, Oswald thought. When Oswald realized Jim wasn’t heading back to the house, he wrinkled his brow in confusion. “What are you doing? The house is that way!” He hollered over the noise. “Taking you for a ride!” Jim laughed. “Relax and roll up your sleeves. Don’t want you melting back there!” Oswald chuckled and took Jim’s advice and rolled his sleeves up of the jumper of this jumper to his elbows. “Where exactly are we going?” Oswald asked, holding onto Jim’s shoulders again. “Just once around the yard, then I’ll let you loose,” Jim joked. “Let me loose? What are you doing, holding me captive?” Oswald teased back. “As if I could,” “Oh, no…I am vicious when captured.” Oswald told Jim into his ear, making Jim shiver. Fuck, what am I doing? Jim screamed inside his head. Oswald felt the shiver, of course and scored one for himself in his head as a victory. “No, just figured you don’t get out enough these days. According to Zsasz you don’t,” Jim said, adjusting his sunglasses as they began to slip down his nose. They rode around for a few more minutes, before Jim took Oswald back. “Well, Zsasz is nosy and cares about me for some God forsaken reason. He says I need to get out more, but I don’t see the point,” Oswald told Jim once they reached the steps to the patio again. Jim hopped down first to help Oswald down. “I don’t either but Harvey keeps pressuring me to. It is good to have people who care,” “All it has gotten me in the past is heartbreak, Jim.” Oswald said sadly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Jim insisted, stepping closer to Oswald. Oswald sighed. “Yes it does. I can’t be hurt like that again.” Jim understood where he was coming from, but he hated to see Oswald so dejected for some reason. “After I’m done, would you like to have lunch? With me?” “You were serious about that?” Oswald asked, confused at the change in subject. “Well, yeah,” Jim said, shrugging. “If you’d like,” Oswald nodded, with a smile. “Let me finish up here, and I’ll see you in a bit,” Jim got back on the mower and went to start it up again. “Jim? I can have your shirt washed for you…if you’d like,” Oswald offered. “That would help, since I don’t think I want to eat shirtless,” Jim laughed, and pulled the shirt out of his back pocket. “I certainly wouldn’t mind,” Oswald’s eyes went wide as he realized what he said, and Jim’s face went a bit red. When Oswald looked back at him, Jim was smiling and shaking his head. He tossed Oswald the shirt, which the other man caught in his hand. “You have my favor now,” Jim teased, and started the mower and rode away. Oswald looked down to the shirt in his hands, and blushed even deeper. A favor, indeed.