Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

The Role of the Villains

   I walk into the precinct on my first day back to work when Ed rushes me from completely out of the blue.

"Natalie, may I speak with you?" he asks.

"Of course Ed, what do you-" but I'm cut off by Ed grabbing my wrist and pulling me through the main hall, weaving past desks and the officers working them.

He stops in a dark side hall, "Natalie, I'm currently experiencing an existential crisis of sorts. No one appreciates what I do, and whenever I try to offer my help it's either shot down or ignored completely-"

I clasp my hand on Ed's shoulder, “Ed, you don’t need others to confirm that you’re an intelligent, kind man. You’re smart enough to figure that out on your own.”

His lips slowly curl into a smile, “Thank you Natalie.”

“Now c’mon,” I gesture, “they’re not going to give you anymore work for another hour or so, right?”

“W-well of course, but...why do you ask?”

I arch an eyebrow, “Ed, I know you keep an Atari 2600 in your workshop in the precinct basement. Now c’mon, let’s go play some Space Invaders.”

   Ed taps furiously moves the joystick and taps the little red button while I look on. He plays Space Invaders on a small rabbit-ear television balanced on a rickety wooden table. His workshop is a small, dank room in the depths of the GCPD precinct. The little lighting in the room is tinted a light green, giving the room an eerie, almost unnatural glow.

“What I don’t understand is why the administration keeps such a tight hierarchy within the police force. If I’m qualified to do more than what my job requires, shouldn’t I be allowed, no, encouraged to assist?” Ed rants, as the line of aliens grow closer on the screen.

“Ed, they do encourage you to assist, it’s just that they don’t know if you’re completely qualified for these other jobs yet. They have to test the waters before they can trust you with anything serious,” I explain, leaning against the wall as I watch him play.

One of the aliens on-screen blasts him, ending the game. Ed pounds his fist onto his knee, before handing the controller to me, “Your turn.”

I chuckle, before I start a new game. While I play, Ed walks over to a small workbench on the other side of the room. He starts fiddling with a mechanical part lying on the bench, “On top of that, Ms. Kringle still refuses my requests for even civil lunch meetings.”

I sigh, “Have you tried doing something for her?”

“Oh, all the time. Once, she was having difficulty reaching a box on the top shelf in the annex, and I got it for her. She thanked me,” Ed smiles broadly, proud of his statement.

“No, I mean, something unwarranted, spontaneous. Something she isn’t in immediate need of, but you choose to do for her anyway because...well, you like her.”

Ed paces back toward me, where I’m struggling to keep the rows of aliens at bay, “Wow...you’re not very proficient at this, are you?”

I roll my eyes, “Ed, you know I’ve never been very good at video games.”

“Purely a psychological block. Your reflexes are excellent. Here, let me help,” before I can protest, Ed wraps his arms around me, his hands meeting mine at the base of the controller. I blush, as Ed guides my hands on the controller. His head rests at my shoulder, and I can’t help but lean my head slightly to meet his. But just as I make this gesture, he pulls away.

“There we go. See? You can do it,” he grins, stuffing his hands into his lab coat.

I look back up at the screen and see that I’ve defeated the first round of aliens. I wasn’t even paying attention to the screen.