Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

You're Not Alone

    Needing somewhere to keep the snow globe, I walk into the GCPD late at night. Those I know from work have left for the day, and the night workers are too tired to notice an extra cop wandering the precinct.

Once I reach my office desk, I pull open the drawer and carefully place the snow globe inside. Because so few people work the desks, no one else uses my desk. That means my snow globe should be safe. Why do I want to keep this thing anyway? It could very well have another tracking device inside, if not something worse, so then, why do I feel compelled to keep it?

I'm carefully hiding the snow globe among little scraps of paper and packs of paper clips when someone taps me on the shoulder several times.

"Natalie, what is your motivation for coming at this late hour, only to hide a mysterious object in your desk?" Ed asks, crossing his arms as I turn around.

"...Ed, hi. Uhm...it's been awhile since you've used my full first name-"

"It is because I'm concerned, and I'm putting my foot down. Show what you're hiding," he demands, his voice still remaining that nasally monotone.

I open the drawer and pull out the snow globe, "I'm currently in-between places. I have no where to put it, so I'm keeping it here."

Ed snatches the snow globe and puts his face up to the glass, adjusting his glasses to examine it with.

"Curious...I recognize the smaller figure as yourself, but the other is alien to me. ...is this the image of your lover?"

I chuckle, leaning against the desk, "I wouldn't call him a 'lover'."

Ignoring my clarification, Ed continues examining the snow globe, "The detail isn't what I'd call exquisite, but the fact that he was able to procure a custom snow globe at all is remarkable."

I try to steal the snow globe back from him, but he uses his height to his advantage, swerving his arms high up in the air before pressing it close to his face.

"...he appears to be a man of shorter stature, at least if the proportions are correct. Ghostly skin, strange hair, equally abnormal sense of style...Nat, what sort of man have you entangled yourself with?" he asks, finally handing the snow globe to me.

I hide the snow globe back in the drawer, "Not a good one."

"So you've decided to come clean on this man's true nature?" Ed responds, stiffening his posture.

I sigh, "...I...I wanted to hide the truth from you, but if you're going to insist on it so much...look, I'm tired, a lot has happened, and you won't be seeing a lot of me for a while."

He tilts his head, slightly confused, "...seeing you? I understand you're taking an early Christmas vacation, but...does this mean we won't be getting together for our annual Christmas dinner?"

I chuckle, putting my hands in my pockets, "We haven't had Christmas dinner together since we graduated from high school-"

"That's the point! I was hoping that, now that you've returned to Gotham, we can...pick up where we left off," he explains.

I shake my head, "Ed...I'm a very different person from the one you knew in high school. I came to Gotham for a reason, and I..."

Unable to finish my sentence, I start walking out of the GCPD. But Ed isn't far behind, and he grabs my arm.

"No, Nat, that's it! You're...exactly as you were!" he exclaims with an unusual, enthusiastic joy.

"You're...ambitious, and...and determined. But what you need to understand is that you can't bury yourself in your work. Natalie, you need to take a break, and rest. If-...if you're in deep with some...horrible people, I can help you. I will help you, however I can."

I smile, holding back a slight sniffle, "T-...thanks Ed."

He adjusts his glasses, a satisfactory grin on his face. I hold out my arms, and run in to hug him.

"You're not alone, Nat."

I return back to the hotel room to find Barbara and Renee both lying motionless on the couch. Several prescription bottles sit on the coffee table in front of them, along with an empty bottle of wine.

I sigh, "Fine. Have a party without me."

Barbara stirs, before turning over to face me, "You would have been a buzzkill anyway. You don't do threesomes."

"To be fair, neither do I," Renee chimes in, her face still buried in the couch cushions.

I walk over and grab one of the orange prescription bottles, "Painkillers, huh? Mixing is dangerous business."

"But it keeps the stress off!" Barbara argues, raising her finger in the air.

"If you want some wine, there's another bottle in the refrigerator," Renee offers, gesturing to the miniature kitchen in the corner of the hotel room.

I sigh, "You know what, after today, I might as well get in a drink or two."

Walking over to the fridge, I find the extra bottle of wine. Taking it over to Barbara and Renee, I sit down on the arm of the chair and grab the bottle opener.

"Renee darling, remember our college days down at GothamU?" Barbara asks, lying her head down on Renee's shoulder.

She chuckles, "How could I forget? You were the rich heiress with a penchant for parties, you practically ruled GothamU."

Barbara shrugs, "What can I say? I was crazy in my youth, but it was you who introduced me to...something far more scandalous than drugs or booze."

"Hey, I hardly had any idea what we were doing either. It just felt...natural," Renee rationalizes, staring up at the ceiling.

Barbara rolls her head over toward me, "You ever been with a woman, Natalie?"

Now with the bottle open, I pour myself a glass of wine, "Nah. I've had my...affections, of course. But they've never been returned."

"You just haven't found the right person. Besides, if you have the option, love a man. That way, you won't lose your job just for rolling in the hay," Renee advises, but her light demeanor suddenly fades, "...sometimes I wish I had that option."

"Oh..." Barbara runs her hand through Renee's hair, "don't feel blue, baby. It's not like you have a choice-"

Renee suddenly stands, "Do we?! ...we don't know, do we? Whether it's sickness, or...or something else! Why do we feel...unlike others?"

With a frustrated groan, she stomps out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind her.

Barbara shakes her head, "Poor Renee, can't really blame her though. I'm protected by wealth, she...nevermind the Talons, if the wrong people were to find out...she might never find work again."

I carefully sip my wine as Barbara gets up to pour herself a glass, "I've made peace with who I am because I have the luxury to do so. Renee has never had that luxury, and...I don't know how to help her."

"I wouldn't know either," I confess.

Barbara downs her entire glass in one go, "She raises a good question though...why are we...as we are? Brain chemistry, childhood, education...who, or what decides who's different from everyone else?"

I take another sip from my glass, "Honestly, I'm just surprised you can think so coherently while drugged up."

Barbara snickers, "...it's called building up a tolerance. Something you know little about."

We both laugh, and Barbara puts her hand on my arm, "Hey...we'll get through this, whatever it is."

Her voice has the same soothing quality, but it's lowered slightly, her eyes fierce. I raise my glass, and she does the same. Sharing a silent toast, we both down our glasses in unison.