Paralyzer [Gotham]

7

"Why didn't you mention her before?" I asked curiously, sitting crosslegged on the bed as he sorted out some stuff around the room. "I like it here."

"Or do you just love how my grandmother fawns on me?" he challenged, a miniscule smile to his lips.

"Well, there's that. But I learned a lot today," I provided, smiling when he finally came to stand in front of me. "If had known you could cook, I would've put you to work ages ago." It grew a bit as real humor spread over his face, and not the amusement he contained when at work, unfolding my legs and getting my knees under myself to get some height on him. It wasn't much, but it made a small difference. "I love learning about you, especially when you tell me so little."

Victor held a hand to my cheek and looked me over. "Yeah, and bubby loves talking to anyone who'll listen, I bet you had a blast." The hint of sarcasm threw me off, taking hold of his wrist to keep him in place.

"You wouldn't bring me here in a sour mood, you don't get to be in one either," I informed with a gentle frown. "You wouldn't take me somewhere so personal if you didn't want me to learn about you." He turned away with a tense jaw, trying to pull his hand back and getting irritated further as I clasped my fingers around the back of his. "Nothing I learned today changed what I feel about you. If anything, it helped me understand you better."

He was clearly displeased about it, but he let me pull him down to sit beside me, sitting back on my heels as I studied how torn he looked. "I was doing my own thing until Falcone picked me up, taught me how to be professional about it. Soon enough I had earned my way to the top of his hitmen and viola, you know the rest." I took a deep breath and leaned my head on his shoulder, a lot of things making clear sense. "Before Falcone, I didn't have a purpose, I was a loose cannon. You wouldn't have even stuck around for a minute if you'd met me then."

"Maybe, I was probably still working in Gotham General those days, anything involving the mob or homicidal skeletons would've terrified me." I chuckled when his pointed gaze fell to me, finding extreme comfort from the simple action of leaning further into his shoulder. "I didn't even listen when Andrew told me stories of the people he worked for, that's how walled off I was. All it took was losing my medical license and reaching a last resort.

"What matters is I like who you are now, murder, torture, and all. So what if it took a bit of a virus to teach me how to accept it? Maybe now I'll be as crazy as you." He took a deep breath, able to see a downward pull to the corner of his lips but not much else from this angle.

"That really isn't something you should hope for," he pointed out.

"Probably not," I shrugged as I sat up, dropping his hand to hold the other side of his jaw. I could tell he was too tense to try and turn him to face me, so I kissed his cheek, resting my head on the side of his. "But I know what you were trying to show me. You're sweet, Victor. Really." I smiled as he took my hand, prefering his skin bounds more than his gloves, pressing a long kiss to the heel off my palm.

"Bubby must've gotten you more drunk than I realized," he sighed. "Come on, get to bed." I ran my thumb under his eye and stood from the bed, slowly walking to my bag and pulling out my cat.

"Okay, now I'm ready." I could tell he didn't want to, but Victor couldn't help the chuckle that left him. He waited for me to be comfortable before curling into my back, running his fingers over my abdomen. I didn't feel unsafe ever in Victor's presence, but the saftey I currently felt bathed in made me feel warm, something I rarely felt in his company.

[]

I sat grogily at the dining table, running my hands down my face as Victor kissed the top of my head, setting a mug of coffee before me as he handed bubby a mug of tea. "Eat, the pastry will soak up the alcohol," he advised with a chuckle when I went for the coffee first. He'd seemed almost irritated by my comsumption last night, now he was mildly humored by my hangover.

Hair of the dog usually fixed me right up, but I doubted bubby would be okay with drinking at seven in the morning. I drank enough coffee that my stomach no longer turned at the thought of food, slowly turning to the pie as Victor spoke gently with bubby. The headache I bore was more one of light sensitivity than sound, but I was appreciative all the same.

It was only after my head stopped pounding and feeling like it was swimming that I could focus on their conversation. However, I opted to avoid taking part when I realized they were talking about Andromeda. My stomach turned, and now more than ever I was wanting that drink. I think I'd caught the end of the conversation, just enough for Victor to wrap the story up in a sad little bow. I looked up when I felt a hand on my arm, giving bubby a soft smile of appreciation at the sympathy on her face. "A strong flower, by any means," she hummed.

Yeah, the path I was tredding down didn't leave room for delicacy, not anymore. If there was one thing about this trip that bugged me, it was the fact that he was goading the good doctor at this point, almost daring me to slip back into the simpler part of myself. It was what he was really hoping for, dragging me along, he wanted to show me that even he wasn't all stabbity bloodfest in order to keep me from flying too far off the handle.

After a few hours, bubby walked us to the door, Victor having already packed up the car. She kissed both of his cheeks before turning to me, doing the same but pulling me closer as she spoke in my ear. Bubby pulled away with a thin smile, one pulling on my lips as well as I nodded and stepped back. Other than that, it was a short departure, Victor's stare slipping to me every chance he got as he drove.

With a soft breath, I leaned towards him and kissed his jaw, lingering in his space a moment. "If how you are as a grandson is any reflection, you would've been an amazing father," I admired, kissing him once more before falling back in my seat.