27. “If we get caught I’m blaming you”
sorry this took a fucking month @happygoloony. so by my books it was Ed’s turn to perform a small feat of saving/badassery, so that’s the way the cookie crumbled. Future!Nygmobblepot and Baby Batman. SFW, 1k. Hope you like it! <3
27. “If we get caught I’m blaming you”
They were in the middle of a heist when the alarms unexpectedly went off, floodlights coming through the windows as a voice was carried to them via megaphone.
“This is the GCPD, we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”
“Eddie darling,” Oswald drawled. “Did you send our friends at the GCPD a riddle?”
“Of course I did,” Edward said, eyes narrowed. “But they’ve never caught on.”
“I thought we’d agreed to keep the riddles to your solo acts,” Oswald reminded him, trying to keep his tone level and checking that his umbrella was loaded.
“You got in on this yesterday, I sent my riddle three days ago,” Edward said, approaching the windows cautiously.
“That’s something I would have liked to know, my love,” Oswald said, moving to the other side of the window and peering out.
“You most certainly know by now how I operate,” Edward argued. “I don’t understand how they solved it. They’ve never caught on this quickly, only in retrospect.”
“If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” Oswald said, cocking the umbrella.
“Yes, dear, I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it,” Edward deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “There’s a subbasement connected to a water main, we’ll just have to make our getaway through there instead.”
“Sewers, how lovely,” Oswald sneered.
“Water main,” Edward corrected, crossing carefully in front of the window. “It’s this way.”
“Not so fast,” a deep voice growled. Edward spun, putting his back to Oswald’s and bringing his cane to the ready. He couldn’t locate the source of the voice; the way it echoed through the empty museum and off its high ceilings disguised the origin. Activating the trigger, he began charging it. Several small objects whirled through the air, one lodging itself into his shoulder. He nearly dropped his cane in shock at the impact and subsequent pain, Oswald immediately spinning on his heel and opening the umbrella to shield them both. They fell back until there was a wall to their rear, ensuring that their assailant couldn’t surprise them. Edward whined and carefully pulled the object from his shoulder, avoiding the edges. It was a very stylized sort of throwing knife, the shape of which Edward couldn’t place.
“Are you alright?” Oswald asked, pushing Edward behind him, his eyes on the shadows of the museum.
“Fine,” Edward said, pocketing the knife. “Who are you? Show yourself!”
“I am the night,” the figure growled, several more impacts sounding somewhere above their heads.
“‘I am the night’, he says,” Oswald repeated, mocking him. “Alright, fine. Let’s kill the night, shall we?”
“Ready when you are,” Edward happily agreed. They held their position, waiting for their assailant to come to them. A flurry of movement came from their right, Oswald always keeping the umbrella between them and their opponent. To their surprise, he then dropped in from above, separating them as they both dove aside.
“Ed!” Oswald called, unleashing a hail of bullets upon the dark figure as he advanced on him. The bullets did not deter him, and if Edward were to approach from behind he’d risk being shot and leaving Oswald to fight alone. Edward took cover and tried to flank him, moving quickly. The umbrella was ripped from Oswald’s hand, and he was punched squarely across the face.
Edward forgot a plan.
“Oswald!” Checking that his cane was still electrified, Edward charged towards the imbecile who’d dared put a hand on his husband. The man turned to face him, and Edward swung hard at him once he was in range. Edward did not manage to hit him. Instead, his adversary caught the end of the cane neatly in his hand.
Fast reflexes, Edward thought, watching the electric current travel through his body, effectively paralyzing him. Reflexes or no, it didn’t matter. The man must have been wearing some sort of leather material— at least in the gloves— rather than rubber. It worked in Edward’s favor, at any rate. Now that he was down, Edward procured a pair of handcuffs from his person, fastening them around his wrists. Oswald would surely want to kill him, couldn’t have him getting away.
“Oswald?” he called again, finished trussing up the freak in black.
“I’m fine,” Oswald said, slowly getting to his feet. He’d gotten hold of his umbrella and was leaning on it for support. Edward rushed to his side, tilting his face into the light to observe the red mark there.
“My hero,” he said, winking and planting a kiss there.
“You… are under… arrest…” the— man? boy? young adult?— said. His voice was noticeably higher pitched than before. Oswald lifted the umbrella, sending the prongs of his taser speeding at the interloper’s exposed cheek, zapping him into unconsciousness once again.
“Well, this sure added some spice to date night,” Edward purred, insinuating himself into Oswald’s arms and leaning down for a long kiss. Oswald eventually parted them, keeping a watchful eye on their quarry through his monocle.
“I think we should finish what we’ve started— don’t you, my dear Riddler?” Oswald drawled, advancing on the would-be vigilante with his umbrella drawn and sending another jolt of electricity down the line.
“I’m definitely a fan of the idea, Mr. Penguin,” Edward cheerfully replied, looping his arm through Oswald’s and keeping close. There was a loud bang at the other end of the museum, followed by the rush of many footsteps. Edward’s eyes widened.
“But perhaps another time!” he corrected, linking their hands and dragging Oswald off to the maintenance room in the basement.
“Not the sewers,” Oswald groaned.
“Water main.”
