Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Tales of Suspense

   From the rooftops of Gotham Batwoman and I look out into the clear night sky illuminated by a full moon.

“...you alright?” Batwoman asks, her cape billowing in the wind, “You’ve seemed...distracted today.”

I lie down, resting my head against the hard plaster of the roof, “Yeah, I’ve had a busy week, especially with the Talon after you.”

“Hey, we still don’t know what the Talon wants, or if he’s specifically going after me. Maybe...it was just a coincidence.”

Should I tell her I saw the Talon at Don Falcone’s mansion? But then she would certainly question what I was doing there, and since she knows I’m a cop, she might think I’m one of the corrupt ones.

“It’s hard to see the situation as a coincidence seeing that you’re Batwoman,” I point out.

She shrugs, “True...but I think there’s a little something more on your mind than just the Talon,” she ends her sentence with a suggestive wink.

What should I tell her? What can I tell her? That Gordon’s acquaintance “Peter” is actually a psychopathic murderer named Oswald Cobblepot who I’m also in love with? But then again, she does deserve some kind of answer, even if it is a half-hearted one.

“Let’s just say I’m having some guy troubles,” I tell her, keeping my tone light and casual.

She gasps, “No way, you never told me you were dating anyone! Hang on...is it Peter? It’s totally Peter, isn’t it?”

I scratch my head, is it that obvious? “Haha...yeah, caught me red-handed.”

“Yes, I knew it! I knew you two were dating when I first met you at the art gallery. You can tell just by how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me? Like a piece of meat?” I joke.

“No...it’s like, how you’d look at a newborn pup. It’s sort of...protective,” she explains.

Huh, I’d never thought of Oswald as being protective of me, more like possessive. But I guess it’s all a matter of perspective. After all, she doesn’t know about the dove and the cage. Or his murderous tendencies.

“Peter’s great but...some of the things he does I just can’t excuse.”

“Oh...is he corrupt? Does he work for the mob? You...you don’t have to tell me,” she pulls back, realizing the issue is rather personal.

Uhm...all of the above?

“Hey, I just remembered something,” Batwoman changes the subject, and takes out a tape recorder, “I heard this while painting today.”

She plays the tape, and the tinny music of a familiar radio show comes on.

“This week, in ‘Tales of Suspense’, the masked man the the night: the Talon, battles the villainous femme fatales: Batwoman and the Trickstress!” the announcer practically shouts, giving an almost forced drama to his voice.

“No way, we’re on ‘Tales of Suspense’?! I loved this show as a kid!” I cry, shaking my hands in excitement.

“Aren’t you listening? It’s complete propaganda, they’re painting us as the bad guys,” she points out.

“I’m sorry, it’s just in that moment I was just happy that I’m appearing as a character on my favorite radio drama,” I apologize.

She nods understandably, “I get it...it was my favorite show too.”

We go back to listening to the radio show, where the Talon catches Batwoman and the Trickstress robbing a bank...but only taking the Susan B. Anthony coins.