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Chapter 3 of Two Rain-Drenched Detectives in a Gangster's Cherry Blossom Filled Mansion 🌸⛈ (Gobblepot Spring 2025)

Chapter 3: A Welcoming Host

Gobblepot (=Jim Gordon x Oswald Cobblepot) x reader fluff <-last chapter Author's note: Gobblepot Spring 2025 is here and guess what that means? It's officially been a YEAR since I started this fic! 😯😂 And to me it feels as if I was constantly working on it (which I was). I kept doubting the amount of spring ambience I wrote but now that we're here again anyways: fits perfectly 🤗 Gobblepot Spring (@gobblepotgazette): ironically a year having passed means that things came full circle again and I used the 2025 challenge's prompt "spring shower". Word count: 3463 🌸⛈🌸⛈🌸⛈🌸⛈

Oswald tore his focus away from the two of you to adress the accidental intruder, "Yes, place it on the table." A woman stepped inside and put a tray down. "Thank you," Oswald told her, making Jim wonder how he acted in his own walls, whether he'd ever threaten his servants over a small inconvenience, scare a partner...

"Could you bring us something to drink?" Oswald adressed the woman whose name you didn't know. "No alcohol, just...what would you like?" "Water is fine", Jim said, looking as if he couldn't bear taking any bigger offer from Oswald. Not after the delicious food at least. "Yes, that's okay", you agreed. Penguin almost sounded bristled at your low expectancies, "And some tea. That is all."

She left and you figured that asking what Oswald had been about to say could wait a little longer if she would come in again anyways. "Wow, those look delicious." On the tray lay multiple appetitzers: small sandwiches with various fillings, plain bread, vegetable sticks and dips along with other finger food. "I thought I'd order something just in case", Oswald said smiling, and once he caught Jim's look, quickly added, "If you're not hungry, we can just put them in the fridge and someone can eat them tomorrow." "It's fine", Jim murmured, observing the other man with a strange look, almost a little impressed. "And if you want to drink anything else, you need only say so." "Thank you", you said. "You're a good host." He really made an effort to make you feel at home.

Outside it rumbled noticeably, the rain on the windows now even louder than before. You shuddered and wondered how your partner could still be warm enough without an extra layer.

Jim did so too and picked up the discarded blanket. He put it around himself, glad that Oswald had left it close by. Neither of you judged him. Even Oswald was getting chilly and he'd been inside for hours.

The sky was darker and made you unsure as to whether you'd be able to go home soon. You found yourself pleasantly excited at the prospect. The house was already so comforting and interesting and the people in this room seemed like the perfect companions for a stormy night. Oswald, the gracious host who appeared personally blessed by your visit, and Jim, intent on bringing you home in time and with an unusual air of carefreeness about him today.

After taking his first bite, Jim let out a happy sigh. "Wow, some of these were in the oven?" He ate another bite of the mini sandwich. Oswald grinned. "Only the best for my guests." He tried some as well, deciding to eat something before continuing with the talk about murder.

Instead, he cherished the presence of other people during dinner, the sounds of eating with the occasional hum of contentment. Looking at the two detectives, by now cozied up, he felt a satisfaction he hadn't realized he'd needed. Finally he had you close for more than just discussing a case and not just that but providing shelter and food for you, allowing you to catch a break from work. While the bite-sized vegetable stack between his finger reminded him that being inside hadn't shielded him from the cold, the fact that you obviously felt comfortable managed to warm him up.

Yet what would happen if the storm stopped? Would you drive home and forget about everything? Who was he kidding, Jim might never think of his hospitality again. If Oswald was lucky, the detective would lose his good mood and in the future merely throw him a bunch of dirty looks, instead of the pushes he'd received before.

A thunder brought him back to the more probable scenario: you'd be forced to sleep here. Just in case, he'd already had a few of the guest beds prepared, so that shouldn't be a problem. You'd most likely sleep in his house, wake up at his place! He almost hid a wide smile behind a napkin but then realized that you might not like sleeping in a different place. The current view however, promised a different thing: you were at ease, enjoying the warming blankets, seats and the food. Whatever the future would bring, he could be proud of this evening.

Jim didn't want to compliment the delicious food lest Oswald think they were good friends now. Oswald hadn't prepared it himself anyways. Or well, maybe that was a reason to give the compliment: it had likely been prepared by an innocent chef. Their payment, on the other hand... He gazed to you, who was sometimes more friendly to Oswald than he could imagine ever being.

The weather had left its cold on you, making you want to cuddle up. The lovely interior only encouraged you to do so, contrary to your reason for being here, the serial murderer case. You touched your blanket and looked around. Oswald was enjoying the food too and Jim—he was looking at you and smiled when your eyes met his. He was here too and you'd hung out together before, which was one of the reasons why you were currently comfortable now. You pulled the blanket up and adjusted your seating position. Hach, it was really cozy.

Maybe you should ask Oswald what he'd meant to say about the case, but the woman would come back with beverages and the atmosphere seemed far too special to rush a discussion that might as well take all night with how it was rumbling outside.

"Are you warm enough?" Oswald looked you over, genuine concern etched into his features. "I could lend you something if you wanted to change. There's—there are some spare clothes that might fit you." Oh, you could guess what he meant: some people had been killed, maybe just defeated, but their clothes...

Jim coughed. "Is that so?" Crap, he shouldn't have asked! Everything was going so well until now. Quick: find some excuse. Oswald's explanation got caught in his throat, "Wh—what are you asking, Jim?" After a moment of hesitation, Jim raised his brows but playfully, teasing. "Why would you have spare clothes in different sizes in here? Is there some lover you'd like to introduce to us?" Oswald's mouth hung open. "Lover? What? No." He caught Jim's smirk and quickly adjusted his tone, now similarly kittenish. "At least not to the GCPD'S knowledge." He kept looking at Jim, afraid to also pull you into what he hoped wasn't amateurish flirting but at least came across as harmless banter. "You'd have to get a warrant I'm afraid." Jim laughed and you did so too.

You joined the conversation, "So no lovers then? Come on, we're the trustworthy kinda cops," you gently pushed Jim's side, "we would never blackmail you."

"You—well, uh—certainly, I know I can trust you." In truth Oswald had wondered whether he could trust you: Jim obviously half tolerated him because he needed his help to fight crime and half thanks to you. Still, some of the times Jim had actually been nice instead of indifferent, he'd eventually tried to pull away. Today though, today Jim seemed genuinely interested in him as a person...

"I do not have a partner or lover, no." At the moment he wished he had a glass to take a sip from. "As you surely know, it can be difficult to maintain any type of relationship in my line of work. But, I'm glad to know you two." He brushed a crumb from his suit. "What about you, detectives?" Okay, he could try flirting. If Jim had done it, he could do it too. "I'm sure two people as attractive as you—"

"Mr. Cobblepot, may I come in with the tea?"

Really, now?! Oswald answered in a somewhat clipped tone, "Yes, yes, come in." It was only once she put everything down that he realized with embarrassment that he could've told her to wait. Or just ended his sentence and then allowed her entrance. But obviously he was utterly inexperienced, sitting frozen in place while hot water was poured into tea cups.

"Do you need anything else?" You turned to Oswald, who quickly cleared his throat. "Not unless our guests need something?" "I'm good", you addressed Oswald. Jim nodded and tried to make it appear a bit like a compliment maybe, like he was saying Oswald was a good host. Judging by the man's look however (suddenly paler than usual), Oswald only interpreted it as a show of pity.

You shook your head ibternally. He'd been nothing but nice so far. And gracious and sweet and handsome.

Finding himself at a loss for words, Oswald grabbed one of the mugs and took a sip. Ouch. It was way too hot. How could it take so long for her to serve it, and still be hot? It didn't matter. He wouldn't seem any more out of control today.

You felt the need to assure Oswald he hadn't made a fool of himself but on the other seat, Jim's cheeks had gone pink, his head turned down to the blanket instead of Oswald, who he could no longer bear to observe.

"We're single," you stated, "and I for one don't wanna date some random person I never met." Oswald nodded. "I see." He tried to find something else to say, to not let the conversation die, and demonstrate how normal he could be. "If you ever need someone to do a background check..." Oswald gestured to himself. "You know where to find me." As soon as he'd uttered the words, he realized how foolish the promise was. He wanted to spend time with you, not help some stranger get to know you, goddamnit.

Jim let his gaze trail from the blanket towards Oswald. Not his face but his fingers, clinging to the handle in a strong grip. Like the kingpin he was, he wouldn't let go of the things he owned an instead reach for more things to acquire, until he had more terretories than all the mob bosses before him together.

The work Jim and Harvey and you had put into making Gotham a less corrupt place would have been for nothing: you'd need Oswald's help more than ever but the man would no longer be the umbrella boy Jim had saved, have no time for favors that would likely harm one of his businesses.

To keep believing he was as good of a man as he tried to be, Jim might decline whatever invitations or proposals the mob boss had for him, and in time Oswald would grow tired of it, maybe even bored. He'd turn to someone else and God, Jim hoped it wouldn't be you, that he could pull you away from this world and maybe Oswald would forgive you, knowing that it was all Jim's fault.

But what would happen once you and he no longer meant whatever it was you meant to Oswald? He'd seen what could happen to Harvey, who was Fish's lover on occasion, who got hung up by his feet nonetheless, just for trying to protect his friend who'd investigated something tied to her.

If something like that ever happened to you... Jim shuddered, only a part of it still been due to the rain. It was still insistent, hitting the house as if to remind him that he was trapped in here. With you. Jim didn't expect Oswald to harm you — if he did, he wouldn't have brought you with him but instead just left you at the door like he did with Harvey — yet he couldn't forget how quickly allies could turn enemies, friends to foes. He couldn't forget who Oswald was. A ruthless killer, crime boss. The Penguin.

His nails dug into the blanket. Normally, he would've stormed out by now, ignoring the disturbing truth. Unable to that, he got up and went over to a window. The storm couldn't last that long.

He was wrong: the trees were bending at dangerous angles, the wind strong enough that he was sure he wouldn't get five steps before having to go back or seek shelter. At least the Spring Sword couldn't drag anyone away from a club for the rest of the day and probably night. No one would go out in this weather.

Oswald raised his voice, "Don't worry, my offer still stands. You can stay here, for however long the weather decides to make trouble." Jim turned around. Oswald was fidgeting with his mug, palms pressed to the tea that wasn't as hot as before. His green-blue eyes quickly looked to the window. He only wanted to help. At least right now. And he was still embarrassed about his interrupted attempt of flirting. Jim felt kinda bad for him. The flirting was something Oswald shouldn't feel bad for. Not at all.

Thunder roared and invigorated Jim's want for justice. He strode back to his place. "Tell us, Oswald, is it standard for Gotham party guests to ignore a kidnapping taking place?" he asked accusatorily. "Or was the time you were beating someone behind Fish's club just a rare occurrence? The look he got in return made you press your lips together. Poor Oswald looked as if Jim had poured a bucket of cold rain over him, eyes all wide while his shoulders were raised high. "Jim, I—No, i-it isn't. Not in my clubs and as far as I know not in a lot of others." "That so?" "Yes. It's bad for business. If clients go missing, it discourages others from visiting the place and goodness, Jim, no one wants the police sticking their noses int—" Just then he realized what he was saying. "I-I mean..."

You deemed this a good time to intervene, thinking about your words carefully before saying, "I was wondering the same thing: it's a busy area and not just one but three people disappeared." Glancing at Jim, you were relieved to see his previously hostile posture had eased. He was invested in the case for now.

"Then the whole thing with the sword. Even if this was a gang's deed and people ignored it, the slashes would've at least gained the attention of some regulars. What did you say again, Oswald, before the food was brought to us?"

He needed a moment to remember; the first thing that came to mind was his interrupted attempt at flirting.

"Three people is not a huge number of people to disappear in Gotham, and frankly way below what the article about this case said it was, especially with them being seemingly random citizens." Jim agreed. "This could've been personal revenge or a mugging that happened after they left the party if it weren't for the slashing noise. But none of the regulars that were inside or outside heard it, for all we know it could've been a hallucination."

Feeling more comfortable with this subject, he relaxed and spoke with more confidence, "If you ask me, it's suspicious that the Spring Sword continued after the journalists promised to keep everyone up to date. If this is a gang's doing, someone would've noticed by the article. What I'm also wondering is...why would they name the criminal 'Spring Sword' when they claim there'll be a lot more to come? How would they know? Sure, the kidnappings or murders started in spring but it seems a bit unnecessary."

Jim straightened up. Oswald was right. "So what do you think explains this?" "I think the journalists may have made the story up." "No way," you shook your head, "we visited their families and friends. The victims really disappeared and they'd never do that to their loved ones on purpose."

"Hm." Oswald frowned. "In that case, it might've even been a bigger organization. Perhaps they pressured the journalists into making up the story about the Spring Sword. Or, if the person exists, I guess they could've positioned some of their people at the clubs so regulars and normal visitors wouldn't be there. In any case, 'll have my people look into it."

You nodded thankfully and raised your mug to your lips to warm yourself up some more. Maybe you were getting a bit tired. The tea was nice, neither bitter nor to sweet, and different enough from the standard flavors that it made you hum in approval.

Oswald spoke up again, "In fact, I could call some people right away. Would you like to take a shower in the meantime?"

You looked to your partner and followed his gaze to the window, which gave you a look at the clamouring nature. Jim swallowed. "What if we miss our time frame to go home?" "Home? Today?" Oswald chuckled. "I'm afraid you wouldn't get very far." Your friend's jaw clenched and he tried to hide his anxiousness with a tight-lipped smile but you knew him and apparently so did Oswald, "Of course you are free to wait and see. I however should probably do the calls in privacy and soon, so I don't disturb anyone's dinner."

The idea of a warm shower was very tempting to you and staying the night afterwards seemed like a good ending for this day. "I wouldn't mind staying here for a night, Jim. If the wind calms down and we leave, who knows how longer we'll be safe until it starts again?"

Jim took in your posture and gestures. You didn't seem too cold but that was the thing, wasn't it, that if you went outside, you'd get cold and have to warm up before going to bed. He didn't want to be the reason you were tired the next day you try to solve a case.

"Yeah. Okay. Let's wait and see. If the weather gets a lot better, we can try again and if not, we sleep here. That sound good?" "Yes." Oswald stood up. "The guest shower rooms should have everything you might need. If you want to, I'll see to it that you have fresh nightclothes." He eyed Jim, sure that he'd decline to offer, but he was surprised when he said, "Good, then we could wash our own clothes. Do you have a drying mashine?" "Pfft, who do you take me for? Of course I do. Your clothes could be done by tomorrow morning." Jim raised his brows. "And you're sure they're not from dead people?" "Really?" Oswald sighed. "No, Jim, they're unused. Falcone hosted a lot of people in his time and he had many a guest sleep in his house. I intend to continue his hospitality. With my own, new clothes. Now, if you'd follow me."

Letting Oswald lead the way through the house, you began to realize how big it was. There was a room filled with with bath towels, bathrobes and dressing gowns of different shapes and colors, slippers, classic black underwear and whatnot. Oswald waited patiently for you to pick out what you wanted, and shut the door behind you.

Jim had chosen a bath towel because if Oswald was calling his contacts in a separate room and you wanted to shower, he might as well have a shower too. "Here we are." Jim gestured for you to go first and then let himself be lead to the room he'd be using.

You closed the door behind yourself and hung up the things you'd gathered. The room wasn't heated as strongly as the other one but luckily there was a rug.

Soon warming water ran down your body as you opened a shower gel that had been in the room. It was obviously not whatever Oswald used —why would it be if possible competitors, perhaps even enemies, might stay here and use it for things like training sniffer dogs with it — but the scent was comforting nonetheless.

Everything had been comforting so far, from Oswald's willingness to host you to the food, beverages, blankets. Even the flower twigs in his home had shown you that he cared for decorations, little things to brighten the day.

The shower curtain too had a floral pattern, you noticed, wondering whether it was picked to fit the season or if it just happened to fit Oswald's taste or was completely random. He obviously had some choice over interior design and seemed to put actual thought into it. It intrigued you, that such a feared person had a liking for odd patterns and delicate flowers, that he took the time to admire freshly cut twigs when the weather forced him to stay at home.

Despite the many life or death situations he was no doubt used to, these things still held importance to him. And with the way he had treated Jim and you, apparently so did you.

🌸⛈ Author's note: I hope you have a lovely spring time. I'll be pretty busy and will definitely take longer to publish a new chapter than last time, after which I pretty much immediately began writing for this one. Until then, tell me your thoughts and let me know how you'd like the fic should end (with this sleepover or them getting together, the Spring Sword case's solution, ...) ☺️

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