Work Text:
Rain was a constant presence in the city. The monotonous sound mingled with the distant noise of traffic, the hum of fluorescent lights, and the occasional rustling of papers. At 8:47, the department seemed almost asleep—except for a thin figure, hunched over a counter piled high with labeled bottles.
Ed Nygma took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and whispered to himself: "Just one more proof... just one more variable..."
No one answered, naturally. The lab was the only place where Ed truly felt at peace—or at least where he could pretend to be. The absence of stares, of judgments, of voices mocking his peculiar ways. But that night, not even that seemed enough to calm the turmoil swirling inside him.
Not because of a particularly difficult case.
But because of the small pocket watch that rested in the corner of the table, discreet… yet laden with meaning.
It was a gift.
From someone who should never have given gifts to a forensic technician at the DPCA.
Ed looked at the object with an almost childlike smile. The metallic surface was slightly scratched, but it gleamed under the artificial light. On the back, finely engraved, was a small stylized umbrella.
The symbol of Oswald Cobblepot.
The metal door suddenly opened.
" Nygma?"
Ed was so startled he almost dropped a reagent bottle. When he looked up, he saw Jim Gordon standing in the doorway, soaked by the rain, his brow furrowed in his usual way. He looked exhausted, irritated—Gordon's natural state lately.
"Gordon!" Ed adjusted his glasses, trying to appear nonchalant. "Are you working late too?"
Jim gave a slight grumble. "Not by choice. We have an urgent case involving two overdose victims at the Narrows. They want me to check if it was another batch of the so-called Midnight Kiss ."
Ed swallowed hard, adjusting his tie. "I-I can analyze the samples," he said with a nervous smile. "Leave them on the counter."
Jim walked to the table, placed a sealed plastic bag over the metal, and looked around as if something were out of place. Ed kept his gaze fixed on the counter, silently praying that Gordon wouldn't notice anything. Especially…
But of course, being Jim Gordon, he noticed.
"Is this yours?" Jim asked, pointing to the pocket watch.
Ed froze completely. Too quickly, he pushed the watch behind some papers. "Ah! Y-yes! I mean… no. I mean… yes, it's mine."
Jim stared at him with that expression Ed hated—the expression of someone who sees more than they should.
Is everything alright, Ed?
" Great. Wonderful. I've never felt so… so…"
" Hectic?"
Ed bit his lip. "Working under pressure. Normal."
Jim sighed and gave up trying for now. "Just call me when you have the results. I'll stay at the main police station."
He turned around and left, leaving Ed alone again… with his heart pounding too hard.
He knew he needed to be careful.
He and Oswald had been extremely careful up to that point.
And even so…
something told me that this wouldn't last.
● ● ●
Two hours later, Ed was finishing the report when he heard his cell phone vibrate discreetly in the drawer. He knew who it was even before opening it.
Oswald.
The name wasn't saved. It was just "Private Number". But the message was unmistakable:
"I'm waiting in the car. Side entrance. — O."
Ed bit the inside of his cheek, fighting back a smile. He put away the preliminary results, turned off the lab lights, and left through the side door of the building—the one that almost no one used.
The rain had subsided, but the air was still thick with the smell of wet asphalt. Parked beneath a broken lamppost, a sleek black car seemed almost camouflaged in the darkness. The passenger window rolled down a few inches, revealing a pair of bright blue eyes.
"My sweet Enigma," Oswald smiled, his voice low, melodic, and full of charm. "I thought you were going to leave me waiting in the rain."
"You're inside the car," Ed corrected, getting in quickly and closing the door. "Technically, you're not in the rain."
"Techniques," Oswald murmured, moving close enough for his scent to fill the space between them. "And I missed you."
Ed blushed immediately. "You said you needed to see me. Is there a problem? Did someone threaten you? Is it Maroni? Or—"
Oswald touched the tips of his fingers to Ed's lips. "None of that. Don't worry. I just…"
His breathing became easier.
" I spent the whole day listening to idiots yelling at the Iceberg Lounge, dealing with bills, negotiating with incompetent smugglers… and I realized something important."
Ed swallowed hard. "What?"
" I deserve to end the day with someone who doesn't give me a headache."
Before Ed could answer, Oswald grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him—hot, urgent, charged with that unmistakable mixture of need and arrogance.
Ed melted instantly.
Their kiss always made him feel like the whole world went silent. Silent, even, than the laboratory at night.
Oswald parted his lips slowly, almost as if savoring the moment.
"You've worked too hard," he murmured, adjusting Ed's tie. "I want to take you home. You're staying with me tonight."
" Oswald, I… " Ed looked away. "Gordon was in the lab. He almost saw my watch. His watch."
Oswald froze. " Did he see?"
"No. Not exactly. He noticed. But... I don't think he suspected anything."
Oswald breathed deeply, visibly relieved, but still tense. "Jim Gordon is an intelligent man. Too intelligent for my taste."
"Mine too," Ed admitted.
That's why we need to be careful, Enigma. Very careful.
Ed agreed.
But fate didn't care about caution.
● ● ●
The next morning, James Gordon needed coffee. It wasn't a choice—it was a matter of survival. The night had been long, and worse still, he had an uneasy feeling that he was forgetting something important. Something related to Ed Nygma.
Not that Jim had any reason to suspect Ed…
well, except for Ed being Ed.
As he passed Bullock's table, his partner called out to him: "Hey, Jim. Who's at the side gate?"
"Side gate?" Gordon frowned. "Nobody should be using that."
"Yeah. But there's a car parked there since last night. License plate covered. Maybe drugs, maybe some idiot falling asleep at the wheel. Go check it out."
Jim sighed.
Another annoyance.
He grabbed his coat and went downstairs, stepping out onto the wet sidewalk. The rain had stopped, but the smell of soaked asphalt still lingered in the air. He walked around the building and made his way to the side gate—the same one where Ed had met Oswald the night before.
That's when Gordon saw him.
A black car, tinted windows.
And inside, two people.
Jim approached slowly, trying to see better through the glass. And when he could see…
He froze.
Nygma.
Ed Nygma was in the passenger seat.
His shirt was a little wrinkled. His hair was suspiciously messy. And…
Gordon blinked twice.
Oswald Cobblepot was at the wheel.
And the two of them were...
talking very closely.
Too closely .
Oswald carefully adjusted Ed's tie.
Ed smiled.
Oswald placed his hand over the coach's.
And for a moment, Jim found himself trapped in the utter shock of the scene.
"It can't be."
"They...? Ed and... Cobblepot?!"
Before he could retreat, Oswald turned and saw Gordon. The next instant felt like a gunshot: Ed's eyes widened, Oswald froze, and Jim simply… blinked.
Cobblepot was the first to react, with a forced little smile: "Detective Gordon. What an unpleasant coincidence."
Ed looked like he was about to faint. "Gordon! I— I can explain!"
Jim raised his hands quickly. "I don't want explanations."
Ed blinked. "No...?"
"No," Jim repeated, too quickly, clearly uncomfortable. "That's not my problem. I have no... no interest in knowing details of your personal life, Ed."
Oswald raised an eyebrow. "How polite of you."
"Just…" Jim scratched the back of his neck. "Just try to be discreet. Please."
Ed opened and closed his mouth several times until he managed to stammer: "Right! Of course! Discreet! That's what we know how to be! We're great at it! Nobody ever suspected that—"
"Ed, please," Gordon interrupted, wearily. "Stop talking."
Ed immediately shut his mouth.
Oswald observed the scene with an amused yet cautious look. He seemed to be sizing Gordon up like a hawk sizing up a mouse—assessing whether he was a real threat or merely an inconvenience.
Jim took a deep breath. "Look... what you do when you're not at work is none of my business. Just don't let it interfere with your work."
Oswald smiled, this time more genuinely. "Ah, detective... interfering with the work is the last thing I want."
Jim preferred not to interpret that in any way. — Great. So… have a good day.
He turned around and left quickly, as if fleeing from his own ability to process what he had just seen.
Oswald waited until Gordon was completely out of sight… and then looked at Ed. “I told you we needed to be careful.”
"I know, I know!" Ed clutched his head in his hands. "This is awful. Terrible! Gordon will never forget this. He'll be watching me. What if he starts asking questions? What if he thinks I'm being blackmailed? Or seduced? Or—"
"Seduced, yes..." Oswald smiled mischievously. "But not against his will."
Ed blushed violently. — Oswald!
"What I mean is…" Oswald cupped Ed's face in his hands, forcing him to breathe. "Calm down. Gordon isn't an idiot, but he's not a gossip either. He'll keep this to himself. And we'll continue as we always have."
Ed took a deep breath.
And finally, he nodded.
Okay... okay. We can handle this.
Oswald smiled. "That's right. Now... shall we have breakfast? I know a discreet place."
Ed laughed nervously. "After this morning, I'll accept anything."
Oswald started the car, and they drove off, leaving the side gate of the DPCA behind.
● ● ●
Jim Gordon, back at the police station, sat down at the table and put his head in his hands.
Bullock tapped him on the shoulder. "Problem?"
Jim mumbled something inaudible.
"What?" Bullock insisted. "Who did you meet at the gate?"
Jim slowly raised his eyes, exhausted. "You... you don't want to know."
Bullock laughed. "Jim, I always want to know."
Gordon hesitated for several long seconds.
And finally he said:
" We… Cobblepot. E Nygma."
Bullock frowned. " What are Cobblepot and Nygma doing ?"
Jim blinked twice, as if still trying to come to terms with his own answer. — …looking like a couple.
Bullock stood still.
Quiet.
Silent.
And then, as if the universe couldn't hold back the joke for another second, it exploded:
" NO! — he laughed. " NO, NO, NO! This is wonderful. I want to die. I want to die NOW."
Jim snorted. "Please, Harvey. Don't tell anyone."
" Jim… " Bullock wiped away tears of laughter. " If I tell anyone, no one will believe me."
Jim sighed. "Great."
Bullock was still trying to catch her breath. "My God... Cobblepot and the lab nerd... Gotham never ceases to amaze me."
Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come on... please, let's get to work."
"Sure, sure…" Harvey took a deep breath, still laughing. "But I'll never get over it."
Jim didn't either.
But unlike Harvey, he wasn't laughing.
He was worried.
Because if Ed and Oswald were becoming romantically involved…
that could turn into something dangerous. For both of them.
And Jim Gordon was certain of one thing:
Secrets in Gotham never stayed hidden for long.
● ● ●
Meanwhile, in another part of town, Ed and Oswald arrived at the Iceberg Lounge through the back entrance. The morning was cold, and the familiar scent of the place enveloped Ed in a comforting way.
Oswald took off his coat, hung it up, and examined Ed's still distressed face. "You're still tense."
"I... I'm thinking," Ed admitted. "Now that Gordon knows... do you think this changes anything between us?"
Oswald approached slowly, placed his hands on Ed's shoulders, and gazed at him with rare gentleness.
Ed Nygma… nothing changes between us unless we decide to. Understand?
Ed smiled slightly, shyly… but genuinely. " I understand."
"Great," Oswald murmured. "Now come along. I have a perfect breakfast to calm your anxious little heart."
Ed let Oswald lead him to a small, private room where a table was already set. The smell of strong coffee, warm bread, and freshly cut fruit filled the air.
Ed sat down. Oswald served him coffee.
And in that simple, everyday, even domestic moment… something warmed in Ed's chest.
Perhaps Gotham was a cruel place.
Perhaps secrets were inevitable.
But there, at that moment, he was with Oswald.
And that was enough.
Oswald touched his hand under the table, smiling with his eyes. "We're a good team, don't you think?"
Ed smiled back.
A smile full of hope.
"Yes. We are."