Chapter 5
"Good morning, y/n!" Oswald's chipper voice said into your ear.
"Oswald, what are you doing calling me?" you almost hissed.
"You--you wanted me to let you know when I set up the meeting with your dealer," he said, obviously taken aback by your attitude.
"I just meant, Edward came by last night and told me that the two of you had discussed it and decided that it was best if he handled all communication between us....in case you were being spied on."
"He and I never talked about that," he responded in a confused tone. "You said he came by....where are you?"
"Wayne Manor. We arrived yesterday. We left right after Ed called me. I assumed you knew."
"No, he neglected to inform me of any of that."
The annoyance in his voice was unmistakable.
"When and where is the meeting?" you asked in an effort to get the phone call back on track.
"Three days from now, on Friday, 10 PM, at Warehouse 13B down by the docks. Do you know it?"
"No, not really."
"I'll send Butch to take pictures for you....and whatever else you need to make your plans."
"Thank you, Oswald. I owe you."
"Actually, I was hoping you might consider doing me a favor."
Here it comes...you knew you wouldn't get off scot free.
"What is it?"
"If you aren't busy this evening....would you like to have dinner with me?"
Well, that wasn't what you were expecting.
He must have interpreted your silence as a rejection because he continued, "As friends....if you want to....there's no pressure."
"I'm flattered, but wouldn't you going out on a dinner date with an Avenger jeopardize our operation."
"Of course, I didn't think about that."
He sounded flustered.
"Perhaps, I could come over? Meet the rest of your team? Butch is very good at losing a tail."
"I'll have to clear it with Bruce. I am his guest."
"Alright, well, you can reach me at this number. It's Butch's phone. I was trying to be cautious."
"I'll call you back."
This was weird; the last thing you needed right now was more weird. Clearing your thoughts, you went to find Steve to tell him the update.
"I'd feel better seeing the place for myself ahead of time," Clint said from his spot on the couch.
"I would, too," you began as an idea started to form in your mind. "You know.... a couple of us....in good disguises.... late at night.... driving one of Bruce's cars.... maybe nobody would notice who we really are."
"Even if someone did stop us, if we played our parts convincingly enough they wouldn't suspect a thing," Clint said.
"The rich, hopelessly lost tourists."
"Or the lovers looking for a little privacy."
You flashed him a smile.
"You and me on this one?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's do it, partner."
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"Bruce, may I speak to you a moment?" you asked when you found him and Alfred in the study.
"Of course," he replied, sitting up straighter in his seat at his father's desk.
He didn't have the bearing of the typical teenage boy, nor was he the spoiled brat that would be expected for a child in his position. In fact, he hardly seemed to be a child at all. Something about him already gave off the aura of a well-rounded, mature adult. Whenever you looked at him, you felt a sense of the great man you were sure he would one day become.
"I hate to ask more of you," you said, walking over to stand across from him, "but Penguin asked to come over for dinner this evening. He wants to meet the team. If you want to decline, it's perfectly fine with me."
"But, it is in your best interest to keep him happy," Bruce supplied.
"To be honest, yes."
"Then, go ahead."
"Fantastic," Alfred muttered from the spot he was tidying up.
"Alfred," Bruce said with a gentle scolding tone to his voice.
"I meant nothing against Miss y/n. She knows that. It's only....first that man last night, and now Penguin tonight....not exactly the most endearing company, are they?"
"What Alfred means is we are delighted to help in anyway that we can," Bruce said.
"Thanks," you said, giving Alfred an apologetic smile as you did so. "If that's the case, may I ask for one more thing? May Clint and I borrow one of your cars for a little surveillance tonight?"
"On one condition...I want to join you."
"It could be dangerous," you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought of taking someone his age along.
"There's no point in arguing with him," Alfred said with a huff. "He'll do as he bloody well pleases anyway."
"Then, it's a deal."
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You couldn't help but grin widely at the whistle Sam let out when he saw you come down the stairs.
"Look at you! Nobody told me this was going to be a fancy dinner," he said, motioning to his jeans and t-shirt.
"It's not. This is part of our cover for surveillance later. We're taking off as soon as Penguin leaves."
"Well, you look great."
"Thanks, Sam."
"Is this guy going to think you got all dressed up just for him?"
Honestly, that thought hadn't occurred to you. It was just Penguin, after all. He'd never given any indication of having romantic feelings for you. Well, except maybe for the dinner invitation. But, that was most likely just a friendly offering. He didn't really have any friends as far as you knew, except for Edward.
"I was teasing. You don't have to look so thoughtful about it," Sam added.
You simply bumped him with your elbow in response. When you reached the study, you received similar responses from your other team members, as well.
"Alright, settle down now," Sam said. "I know I look damn good, but this is too much."
You were laughing as you joined Clint on the couch.
"You look good," he told you.
"You too, partner," you said, looking over his dress clothes.
"I heard the kid is going with us."
"Yeah, he insisted. He won't cause any problems. Besides, we need someone who knows the way. It was either him or Google maps."
Your conversation with Clint was interrupted by a familiar voice insisting that Bruce just call him Oswald instead of Mr. Cobblepot.
"Alfred will show you where to put everything," Bruce said to a man you couldn't see from where you were sitting.
"I hope you didn't go overboard, Oswald," you said, referencing the dinner he had offered to provide for the evening.
"Do I ever? It's nothing, really," he replied with a wave of his hand.
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one carrying it," Butch said, popping his head in only long enough to speak. "Hey, y/n. Long time no see."
You waved at him before he disappeared again. The introductions were quickly made and then your party moved into the dining room. You chose the seat between Natasha and Clint, and Oswald ended up across from you.
He really had gone overboard with the dinner; it was extremely lavish.
"So, I've been wondering, how do you two know each other?" Sam asked.
"That is a very interesting story!" Oswald said. "Do you mind if I tell it, y/n?"
"Of course not," you replied, popping a bite of food into your mouth.
"Oh, how do I start? Several years ago, my organization was experiencing 'a high turnover rate', if you will, and Butch was in charge of finding new employees."
"She showed up and was as tough as anybody there....and definitely better trained," Butch interrupted. "Besides, when the choice is between a bunch of ugly mugs and a pretty face, I tend to be prejudiced."
"Like I was saying," Oswald continued with a huff, "she came to work for me. It was a very low level job. She was just another disposable muscle to have around."
"Thanks, Oswald," you muttered with a smirk.
"Let me finish," he said, holding a hand up to you patiently. "I said that's how it began. Anyway, I wasn't incredibly well-loved among my competitors, and one day some of them decided to eliminate both my business and me. Y/n saved my life. I immediately promoted her to the highest position possible. She and Butch were my right hand woman and man, respectively. Of course, I was a bit shocked and angered when I found out she wasn't what she told me she was. But, I wasn't the focus of her investigation, and she assured me that SHIELD had no interest in me whatsoever, so all was forgiven. Actually, I offered to let her continue on in her position, but she declined."
"Turned down the gangster life, huh," Clint whispered in your ear.
"Oh, shut up," you replied with a giggle, smacking him under the table.
You glanced up to find Oswald staring at you with furrowed brows. Clearing your throat, you shifted awkwardly in your seat and turned your eyes back down to your plate.
After several moments, Oswald said, "I suppose it's time we were going. Thank you for the lovely evening, Bruce."
"I'll see you out," you said, rising from the table and following them out of the dining room. When you were outside, you said, "We'll inform you once we come up with our strategy."
"That reminds me," Oswald said, looking to Butch and snapping his fingers. Butch responded by handing you an envelope from inside the car.
"Your pictures," he simply said.
"Thanks, Butch."
"Any and all of my resources are at your disposal, including Victor," Oswald said.
Without warning, you quickly wrapped your arms around Oswald's neck. From the way his hung limply at his sides, you weren't sure if he was surprised or uncomfortable. Releasing him as suddenly as you had grabbed him, you said, "You don't know how much I appreciate that. My team means a lot to me."
"But, you'll also take care of yourself, won't you?"
There seemed to be worry in his eyes.
"Of course."
"You're....Butch could we have a minute?" he said to the man who was already in the driver's seat.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, rolling the window up.
"What I was saying is that I don't have the luxury of having a multitude of people that I can trust. If anything happens to you...."
"Nothing's going to happen. Trust me."
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"Turn here," Bruce said as he leaned in between the two front seats of his luxury car.
"These pictures aren't bad," you said, flipping through them. "No substitute for the real thing, though. I'm glad you wanted to come."
"Looking after you is my job," Clint said with a smirk.
"Mmhmm, do you know you're full of shit?" you asked jokingly.
"You've told me enough times. We're really in the seedy part of town now, aren't we?"
"The warehouse district is a really high crime area," Bruce said.
"Makes sense," you said, your eyes scanning the warehouse numbers while Clint drove slowly. "Here we are."
You climbed out of the passenger seat and pulled your dress up high enough to slip on your thigh holster. Clint's gun was resting in a shoulder holster underneath his suit jacket. He felt vulnerable without his bow, but it was better than nothing.
"Stay in the car, Bruce," you said.
"But--"
"It could get dangerous. Stay in the car," you reiterated firmly enough that he didn't give any more argument.
You and Clint walked over to the warehouse door, studying your surroundings as you did so. He tried the handle and found it locked. Leaning his back against the wall, he watched the area from all sides while you dug in your handbag for your lock picking kit. A couple of minutes later, you heard the familiar pop and the door opened.
"Come on," you said, passing him a flashlight.
You entered the main room of the warehouse to find it empty.
"Who locks an empty warehouse?" Clint asked.
"Maybe they have problems with vagrancy or vandalism," you offered. The two of you split up, but stayed within seeing and hearing range of each other. The building had one large main room surrounded by a few smaller side rooms. The main room had a staircase leading to a metal landing that stretched along three of the four walls.
"This would make a great spot for me," Clint yelled from his place near the ceiling.
"I'm thinking it's going to be best for most of us to set up in the surrounding buildings, and then move in when the time is right."
"I can agree with that," he said, coming back down the stairs. While he continued to explore, you sketched a quick blueprint of the layout.
"You satisfied?" he asked when he saw you tucking the notebook away.
"Yeah, but do you think we should check out any of these other warehouses?"
"Couldn't hurt."
The two of you followed the same procedure for buildings on all four sides. Once that was done, you headed back towards the car. On your way, you caught sight of a pair of headlights.
"Shit," you muttered, grabbing ahold of Clint and pulling him into the darkness. The car stopped and two people exited.
"Honey, I told you that you shouldn't have had so much to drink," you said in an artificially intoxicated voice. "This is really putting a damper on my mood."
You wrapped your arms around Clint's torso for added effect. Hopefully, whoever it was would just believe that you were a slightly drunk couple whose attempts at a romantic liaison were interrupted by nature's calling, and they'd continue on their way.
"Don't worry, baby, I know how to get you where you need to be," Clint said, giving you a kiss on the lips. He tipped forward ever so slightly to make it even more convincing.
"Y/n?" you heard one of the figures ask.
Pulling back from Clint, you said, "Edward? Is that you?"
The man moved forward into the headlights' beam enough that you could tell it was him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
There was a rough tone to his voice and a flat expression on his face.
Glancing over, you saw that it was Zsaz he was with.
"We wanted to see the meet-up spot in person. What are you doing here?"
"The boss wanted us to make sure this place is airtight for Friday night," Zsaz answered, studying you and Clint.
You looked back to find Edward staring at Clint with what appeared to be a barely contained rage.
"We didn't know who it was going to be so we were trying not to appear suspicious," you said, trying to diffuse the tension.
Before anything else could be said, a second car pulled up alongside.
"Are you guys okay?" Bruce asked as he jumped out.
"Yeah!"
Addressing Edward, you said, "We were just leaving. I'll see you guys later."
"See ya," Zsaz replied with a wave.
Edward said nothing as you and Clint walked past.