eddie/muerte date Who: Eddie, Muerte Where: Ocean's Eleven When: backdated a little bit! What: meeting, patching things up, being cute Warnings: none!
Muerte said she’d be wearing color and Eddie didn’t want to compete. Usually he was greens, purples and golds. Tonight, he was in a black suit that looked like it belonged in the backroom of a casino or in a grand tier box at the opera house. His tie simmered dark silver like scales under moonlight and pinned at the middle was the ankh she gave him all those years ago. His hair was slicked back, his face cleanly shaven and his shoes were something Sinatra would have liked to be buried in. He knew that even at his short height, he looked intimidating in a suit like this. That it wasn’t anything like the nerdy t-shirts or even the bright green suits he usually ran around in. This was different. This was a side of him he rarely showed Muerte, who he cared about so deeply.
He stood by the fountain, arriving a little earlier than she specified simply to enjoy the music, the sounds, the sights. His fingers brushed the ankh on his chest and he was surprised that it was a little warm, though the sensation was dimming by the second. It had warmth when he initially put it on, but he thought it was a fluke or his mind playing tricks on him. Perhaps it was nothing? Perhaps there were parts of her that simply couldn’t be put out.
Eddie looked up and leaned against the railing. Tourists stopped to take pictures, most of them without anyone in the frame. Only water. He wondered what was the point of that? Couldn’t they find a thousand million different pictures just like that online? What made their point of view unique? Eddie watched them, watched the families who looked miserable spending time together with their Applebee’s fat bellies covered by Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts. He envied them. He wondered what that unhappiness felt like and if it was any different from the kind he felt recently.
They probably looked at him with the same amount of envy. The father specifically likely hated men like Eddie who didn’t bother with macho things, who wore suits that could make women take their clothes off an instant, who did what they liked when they liked. It made the envy Eddie held, that green hateful thing, burn itself out. He wasn’t the sort to want something he didn’t understand. No. He wanted to be the kind of man who could see the good in his life and appreciate it.
Eddie turned and looked back at the water. The dozens of families just like the one he was looking at streamed by. He didn’t concern himself with them. He just thought about seeing Muerte again.
Eddie was already waiting when she got there, looking out at the fountains, and Muerte took a minute to just stand and look at him. The suit caught her attention, almost colorless, from what she could see from her angle, tailored perfectly in a way that slipped past a person's attention but left the impression of a man having enough money to be powerful. Her fingers twitched for just a second with the desire to rumple him - his hair, his clothing, his attitude - to nudge him back toward the softer demeanor that accompanied t-shirts and pajama pants and a man who sat on the floor to sort through packages of action figures.
But she curled her hands into loose fists, keeping her fingers tucked against her palms. Because it was unusual for Eddie to pull out all the stops like that, especially around her, and that meant something important. She wasn't sure yet what it was, but she knew he rarely did things randomly. There was a reason, and the reason had meaning, something she maybe needed to find out.
She herself had gone out to find something with a little more color than she usually wore. It seemed somehow appropriate to make that shift along with everything else that was changing for her. She didn't think she'd ever have a truly colorful wardrobe, but every once in a while… maybe it was needed. The dress she'd chosen was a sapphire blue, lace from neck to ankle, a shift under it that ended at mid-thigh and revealed the outline of her pale legs through the remaining fall of the lace. The neck was high-cut, tied in back and open along her spine to just below the wings of her shoulder blades. It wasn't an overly-expensive dress, but it fit well, and she thought that mattered more than the price. She'd picked out some sandals, flat bottoms and silver ties that wrapped around her ankles, the only sparkle to the whole outfit. Her hair, usually wild and untameable, she'd managed to smooth back into a bun at the base of her skull with only a few stubborn curls escaping along her hairline in the Vegas heat.
The families there to see the fountain moved around the space without ever drawing too close to Eddie, like he was the opposite pole of a magnet, nudging them away with his presence. It left a space to either side of him, a calm little bubble that she planned to invade. The sandals were soft enough to not make much sound as she crossed the pavement toward him, and the people and music and rush of water in the fountains covered the rest. It allowed her to appear next to him almost as suddenly as she used to, unnoticed until she was right there.
"Hey there, good-lookin'. Fancy meeting you here." Her voice was soft, still a little uncertain, but warm and fond.
Eddie looked up at the sound of her voice. It was almost washed out by the music, water and chatter of tourists, but he could locate it in a fucking snowstorm. There was something calming about her voice, something that felt a lot older than she looked. Warm like amber. He turned his head to look at her, eyes down at the sandals on her feet, slowly traveling up lace, hips, shoulders and then her face. He smiled. “Are you talking to me or looking in a mirror?” Eddie gave her smarmy charm and then stepped a little closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that he could smell the familiar soap on her skin and she could smell his mobster cologne he always wore with suits.
“You look beautiful.” His voice dipped down seriously and he stared at her for a moment before looking over the water. “I wanted to apologize for bringing Selina into our relationship. She’s-” The green man shrugged. “The only constant in my life since I came to the hotel. She knows me the best and I like to think even though I’ve been just terrible to her in the past, she wants the best for me.” Eddie glanced back at Muerte. “Did she help?”
The drag of his eyes up her body from her feet planted a shiver at the back of her neck, sensation trickling down toward the small of her back. It made her very conscious of what she was wearing in a way she rarely was, but she lifted her chin just a bit, ignored the wash of pink she knew was blooming on her cheeks, and gave a little shrug at his question. "I'm pretty sure I was talking to you. All done up in your fancy duds." She let her eyes drop to indicate the suit, though they stuttered at the sight of the ankh against his tie. Her attention pulled back up again when he stepped closer, and though he stopped before touching her, it was good to have him near again. Her next breath in was visible, a slow blink accompanying the rise of her chest as the familiar scent of his cologne slipped its presence nearer to her. Scent was a powerful thing, and it took a concerted thought to not lean in and press her nose to the side of his neck.
The next compliment helped to distract her, more sincere than the carnival charm, though both made her blush. She was getting better at ignoring the moments when she could feel her face heat with it. Though she still didn't quite know how to react.
His apology surprised her, and she began to shake her head before he was even part-way through. "You don't need to apologize. She's…" Muerte reached a hand out to rest it on the nearby railing, not knowing what else to do with her hands. "I think she's my friend too. Or. At least the closest to one I have." She nodded. "It was good to talk to her, I think." And then a smile. One that was almost a little shy. "You might not have gotten the invitation if I hadn't. Or at least not so soon."
Eddie leaned his elbow on the railing and turned to look at her. The Vegas lights flickered behind Muerte’s frame, illuminating her in a way that the apartment or the comic book shop never did. And while part of him yearned for those soft fluorescent lights and gentle indie music playing while they went through old issues of comics, he liked seeing her in a new environment. He liked pushing her to do things she didn’t naturally lean towards and that realization made him wonder why he was still so scared? Why did he run?
His expression changed to something soft and thoughtful. “I would have gone crazy in Gotham. I was already kind of getting there.” Eddie confessed and then reached his hand on the railing to touch hers. His fingers brushed her, a feather-like sensation. “But, I think it’s better like this. There’s less pressure if I’m living somewhere else. Putting pressure on us is so pointless.” He watched her expression to see if she agreed and then looked back out at the water.
If it was up to her, she would probably just stay in that fluorescent light/indie music environment of the comic shop. Not because she was scared of being anywhere else, but because it was comfortable, and it made her feel good to be there. But there was also something (she could admit it to herself as the rush of the water continued as a static backdrop to her thoughts) about stepping out with Eddie that made her heart beat a little harder and made things a little more electric. Instead of the lull of comfort that made her slower and softer, it sharpened things again to be more out in the world (whatever world they chose), and her eyes stayed bright with it.
The barely-there brush against her fingers made them flex, seeking his out, more of that touch, though she didn't (yet) turn her hand to cling to them. She let that contact be fleeting for the moment as she looked at him. People still moved around them, leaving that bubble of space that was filled only with sound and not bodies, and it meant that their conversation, though in public, was almost private. "I don't want there to be pressure," she finally said, and at the same time finally reached out to press her fingers a bit more firmly against his. Still not holding on, the glancing contact staying at the border of teasing after having been apart for those long days. Without looking down, two of her fingertips slid carefully over the bone of his wrist, only just dipping beneath the cuff of his shirt before moving away again. It was distracting, even to her, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "I did miss you, though. And I want you to know that you can come over any time you want." She paused, eyes lingering on his face even though he was turned to look at the water, the sharpness still there in the lines of his face and not quite able to be hidden. "Or need."
Eddie tilted his head to the side and made a soft, warm noise as he watched her fingers spread across his skin. Then he smirked and it was unintentionally sharp, too smart, like the kind of smirks he had been giving lately had been over backroom deals. He noticed the strain on his expression and he fixed it, hopefully before she noticed. And, he didn’t change because he was afraid she couldn’t accept his dark side or she’d disapprove, he simply didn’t want to be that guy around her. He liked the two separate even if he knew that his neon green wasn’t going to burn for very long. Perhaps because he knew.
Still, he was wearing a suit that looked like it belonged to the underworld. So, clearly he wanted her to like some of his dark side.
“You don’t make me feel pressured, not like that.” Eddie looked up at her and moved a little closer, almost as if he were asking her to touch him again. “It’s just me taking time to sort through everything I’m carrying around with me.” His gaze steadied when she said need and if she was looking, she could see something bloom in his dark eyes. Want, need, bittersweet loneliness. Sometimes Eddie liked feeling that way. It reminded him that he could feel, that there was so much more to him than that question mark he still clung to.
“I can visit when I want, hmm? Just, no crawling through the window, right?” Eddie teased and his expression lightened.
She was watching as that smirk was born and then shifted into something softer, and she was quiet about it. Sure, she worried a little - she didn't want him to get caught up in anything that would end in him doing damage to himself (physically or psychologically). But (though he downplayed it a lot of the time) she was aware that the sharper parts of him were there. That they'd never really go away. That it was a back-and-forth sort of thing, and if she was going to say she wanted to be with him, she had to figure out a way to be there for all of it. And of course there were lines she wouldn't want him to cross, but she was pretty sure he hadn't yet. Not when he could still take that breath and dim the neon again.
His step closer was a good sign, she thought. Good for both of them. It made her smile, something gentle, and reach out toward his hand again. Her fingers laid over the backs of his knuckles, thumb tracing a path close to his wrist, and she didn't lift them away again. She looked up at him, saw that bloom of emotion, and her other hand lifted to his cheek, resting light along his shaved-smooth jaw. It was more than she'd intended at first, more contact when she was still trying to figure out where they stood, but it was a magnetic force that she had difficulty fighting against. And her words didn't quite match up with her actions: "I want you to take as much time as you need." It was a supportive sort of statement, and she truly felt that way - even if she also felt like she wanted him back in the apartment immediately, instead of anywhere else.
"You startled me that first time. I don't know why." She was quiet in her confession, but she allowed a wider smile at his tease. Though her eyes still betrayed the tentative edge of her worry and the lack of experience to show her where they currently stood. It was all uncertainty and stubbornness driving her through the conversation.
Eddie was the type of man who poked at things he wasn’t supposed to, he was the guy who needled even if he knew it might make something pop. The mention of his knocking on their balcony window was him testing waters and the look she gave him was no surprise. He wanted to make it better, smooth the rough edges over because they didn’t have good reason to be so sharp. “You know, I owe you at least a hundred jump scares like that after all the time I’ve known you.” He leaned his face against the palm of her hand and closed his eyes for a moment. “I keep forgetting that you’re different now. Do you know how hard it was to surprise you back then? Really hard. I had to practically die to get your attention. One time I almost actually did.” His tone was still teasing, trying to lure a laugh out of her to put her at ease.
He opened his eyes and closed the gap between them. One hand reached for her hip, hand smoothing around her waist to pull her closer. “I’m going to try to be less stressed out about things. And, I’ll be around enough that you’ll get tired of me, I promise.” Eddie thought about his life in Gotham. The Iceberg Lounge that was really just a way to put a distance between himself and the bat family that never really saw him as family. You didn’t have to dig very deep to tell that Eddie had no interest in the rogue life. He just hated being treated like a rogue by people that he wanted to care about, who he wanted to care about him.
But, they didn’t. They only cared if he snapped into some OCD fit and murdered people. He was done trying for people who saw him only as a ticking time bomb. Muerte wasn’t like that and Eddie wasn’t going to push away someone who really, truly gave a shit about him.
She could see his thoughts drift for a couple seconds, his dark eyes glaze for a moment, and then light back up with curiosity. “Are you happy with the shop? I think we had a good opening day, eh?”
She smiled again, the tease easing those tense, hard edges a little more on her end as well - the ones that were prickly with not-knowing. It helped that his comment made her think back on those times of startling him, and she laughed with the memories of how many very undignified sounds he'd made. Nose wrinkling a little with the laughter, she shook her head. "Nooo, you don't owe me jump scares. That was just part of knowing me." Her smile lingered and his lean into her palm spurred a carefully pressed path of her thumb along his cheek, but she didn't laugh at the thought of him dying. "I remember. I wanted to kick your ass for that." Her hand slid down, fingertips along his jaw, until she pressed her palm to the front of his suit coat.
His hand going to her hip made it feel like they were dancing, and she stepped closer herself, pressing against him. She leaned in for just a second to breathe in again, a slow blink to enjoy the way he smelled. It was part of what she'd been missing over the last few days as it started to fade from the apartment without his presence. "I don't think I'm getting tired of you any time soon." It was close to a whisper, in light of how near they stood. "But less stressed is always good." She lifted her eyes to his, serious for a moment. "And if there's anything I can do to help, I hope you'll tell me." Hope, but not requirement. If he needed secrets, she was hoping she could be good enough to let him have them. Though she wasn't going to promise that.
The light in his eyes sparked a reaction in hers, even before the questions, but her response to those was to smile something close to a grin. Her free hand came up to rest on his shoulder, like they really were dancing, and she leaned back in his arms just enough to be able to look at him. "I love the shop. I spend too much time down there. So far so good, I think."
Eddie liked the closeness and part of him was grateful that he could enjoy it. When things were good, Muerte could ease those physical anxieties that had dragged him down over the years. Her fondness for light touches like fingers rubbing against the lapels of his suit or arms wrapping around his shoulders gave him a warmth he could get addicted to. Eddie watched her mouth form words, watched how she said good and hope. It made him want to kiss her lips even if the moment was serious and the leap from relationship talk to making out didn’t really make sense.
“Gotham’s difficult.” He told her and that was his way of saying it was a puzzle. “Once I figure out what I am over there, who I am, then things should be easier.” Eddie’s eyes went distant for a moment. Lost. Without the Bat family, it was hard to tell what he was. Who he was. And, that would take time. If she was willing to talk it through with him, then maybe the process would be easier.
Still, he didn’t really want to think about Gotham tonight. He wanted to focus on her, on the things he wanted but couldn’t let himself have completely and when his attention flickered back to her, it didn’t change again. “I love the shop. The people working there are lovely, the customers are already a delight and there’s something calming about working there.” Eddie tilted his head and looked down at her, voice going warm and sweet. “Thank you for seeing the shop through with me. It’s the most important thing I have.” Nothing in Gotham could compare to how good the shop and Muerte made him felt.
Half the time, she didn't even realize that she'd slipped into those small, easy touches. They just happened without thought, a way for her to reach out and connect, to ground herself and him both. It was a crossing of personal boundaries that she'd done for so long with him (only reining it in when things were very, very bad), but now it seemed to finally be appropriate. And wanted. She could at least tell when he leaned into them, when the lines of stress around his eyes eased a bit at her hand on his chest. It made her want to thread her arm through his, to lean against his side, to rest her head on his shoulder, even to link her pinky finger with his as one chain-link of connection between them. (It made her want more, too - skin and warmth and the textural landscapes of bodies that were meant to be felt instead of the fine weave of expensive fabric beneath her fingertips.) For the moment, she kept her hand resting high on his shoulder, focusing that distracted thought back on their conversation.
At that distance in Eddie's expression, she moved her hand carefully to the back of his neck, pressing a dry palm there with her fingers curving around to almost touch his ear. She didn't want to startle him, or force him to stop whatever thoughts were racing through his mind, but she wanted to reassure him in some way. "You'll get there." It was soft and certain. Three words that had faith without trying to force answers on him. And then, said like it should go without saying, "You know I'll help, if I can." She was still reluctant to cross into that door, but she hoped that there was enough she could do from where she chose to stay. Even if it was just to keep a place in Marvel that was comfortable enough for rest and retreat.
Maybe she should have had better control over herself, but the focus of his attention and the way his voice went softer and sweeter and warmer made her lean in, press a soft kiss to his mouth. It wasn't desperate or too deep - it was soft, but warm enough and long enough to communicate things that they hadn't even said out loud yet. She lingered, drawing it out until she needed to pull back in order to not shift it into anything more. "Thank you for creating the idea in the first place and giving me a place to be." It was her home, in the sort of human, vulnerable way she'd never had before. "It's already perfect, and I feel like it's only going to get better." She said it like it was a secret, like she didn't want anyone else knowing how good their shop was going to be, and she smiled. And then, with far more willpower than it maybe should have taken, she stepped back a single step so that she wasn't pressed quite so closely to Eddie, taking both of her hands and smoothing them down over his dark-suited lapels. She didn't drop her gaze, but there was a hint of color high on her cheeks. "I rumpled you." The path of her hands was meant to set him to rights again, but eventually it was just the trail of her palms over that expensive suit and his chest beneath.
Yes, saying something was good seemed like a one way ticket to failure in Gotham. He was taught early on that good things don’t last and they’re gone the second you realize they’re any good. So, Eddie didn’t want to proclaim it everywhere either. He was like that with her, too, finding himself not willing to give out details to curious minds. Selina got the truth, but Selina seemed like the exception to the rule. The one friend he had that was born and bred of the same stuff he was. Still, even when he told her, it felt like a secret. And when Muerte’s voice lowered hush-hush, Eddie smiled and nodded like they were making some kind of deal behind closed doors.
He leaned forward for another kiss, trying for something soft like she had given him, but let his own want for her edge through. Her lips tasted a little sweet, nothing like the salt after a long day of lifting boxes and cleaning the store. This was different and he did his best to appreciate it. To imprint it on his mind to think of later. Eddie decided he liked both salt and sweet and wouldn’t settle for either or.
“I like that you rumpled me.” He said, amused little smirk down at his suit and her hands traveling over his chest. When he glanced back up, he could see that she was blushing and his ears turned that familiar, funny pink. “Come here.” He said like they weren’t already all over each other and he took the opportunity to pull her close to kiss her the way couples were supposed to in front of wonderfully romantic fountains. His arms around her were strong, solid, in a way that wasn’t typical for most skinny nerds. He held her like he was sorry for letting go and he kissed her like he was going to have an even rougher time saying goodbye.
The second kiss, the one from him, was almost instantly something more than the first had been. It felt familiar and different at the same time, in the sort of way that seeing him in this suit felt different from seeing him in other clothing. It was still him - still them - but shifted just a step or two to the side.
She laughed under her breath and shook her head at his amused, smirky confession. "Somehow I'm not surprised that you like it." It didn't stop her from trying to smooth out more unseen wrinkles though. No, what stopped it was the low request for something closer, and she reacted without hesitation, without even pausing to think about it. She stepped close, a press against him from chest to thigh, and slipped her arms up along and over his shoulders. The lean into him put her almost off balance, but his body was there to steady her. Eyes closed, she sank into the new kiss with a soft exhaled sigh - audible wanting. Her own arms tightened around his shoulders as she raised just a bit onto her toes, trying to find an even closer angle. She felt locked in by his arms in a way that wasn't a trap, wasn't a cage, but that held her steady and right where she felt she was meant to be.
It was long minutes of getting distracted by their kiss before she could find logical thoughts again. She'd missed him in the days that he'd been in Gotham, and every wet press of her mouth was meant to be evidence of that. She lost track of the people that moved around them, didn't notice that at least one person took an "artistic" photograph of the couple kissing in front of the musical fountains. Didn't notice and didn't care. It was only once one song shifted to another that she fought to find her thoughts again. "This isn't why I asked you here…" The words were quiet though, whispered in the fraction of space between their lips, her eyes still closed. She hadn't moved back at all.
Eddie’s mind hazed over in the pleasant way he thirsted for while he was gone. The sound of falling water, the swing of some old fashioned song and the heat of her body pressed against him made so much of his stress and pain go away. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be that simple, but it was. He was a man guilty of overthinking and when he allowed himself to just be, that was when he could find peace. Happiness.
When she pulled away, it took a second for him to open his eyes and when he did she could practically see the neon of Vegas bouncing around in his dark gaze. He smiled at her, sweet and goofy and then kissed her again after she told him that this wasn’t why she wanted him here. “This?” Eddie asked innocently, like he had no idea what she was talking about and kissed her again. “How about this?” Another kiss and then he leaned back to look at her.
“Shall we go to dinner and pretend we don’t want to take each other’s clothes off? I don’t mind.” He automatically turned the charm on, a sort of Gotham swagger that was good when it was natural. When there wasn’t anything to hide underneath it. And here? He was doing a good job at keeping the house of mirrors back in his hometown door. It was just him, Eddie and that swaggering charm he had developed decades ago.
She pressed her cheek against his before saying anything, a tiny little motion that could have been called a nuzzle, the line of her nose just in front of his ear. "I didn't know where we stood. I just wanted to spend time with you, if nothing else." But they'd snapped back together like magnets, and she wasn't going to shove away. He'd shaved recently enough that there was no scruff to rasp against her own skin while she lingered there, and she brought a hand around to trace that clean line of his jaw during those few teasing kisses. The ones that earned a smile and finally a low laugh. She met his gaze when he leaned back, happiness and a bit of relief betrayed in her eyes.
"I don't know. Do you think we can manage? I already rumpled you earlier…" She said it with a quirk of her lips that hinted (just hinted) that maybe rumpling was a precursor to something more. That first clothing got rumpled, and then it got removed. The twist of her smirk widened again into a full smile at the easy roll of his charm, different than the more staccato beat it took when there was something tense blooming in his mind. It wasn't always an easy difference to track, subtle with the years he's had to practice it, and she knew she didn't always get it right. But with his arms still around her and smile on his face (true, not sharp), she was pretty sure they were doing alright with each other at the moment.
Eddie smiled at that hint of relief in her eyes and it sparked a little in his own, as well. He knew that them coming together almost instantly instead of picking opposite sides of the fountain and shouting coyly at each other wasn’t going to be how this turned out. He knew a brush of her fingers there and a few kisses from him and they’d be close to where they were before they had ever even moved in together. Which made him think about them, about what he wanted to ask, and he figured to save it for when they seemed a little more healed.
“Do you want to talk? Need to?” Eddie asked with sincerity and whatever stifled frustration he was wearing on his sleeves the last time she saw him was gone. In its place was a need to mend them emotionally as well as physically. The latter was a lot easier to do, he knew that from simply being human. The first part took some time and if she didn’t want to open up or he couldn’t, that was okay too. “I know some really nice, romantic spots around here. Quiet. Nice view.” Eddie slowly pulled his arms off from around her body and reached to hold her hands between them. “I don’t know if I’ve got a lot to say, but we can make sure we’re good. You and me.”
She took a minute to actually think, to not just reply instantly and take the risk of glossing over something important. She continued to look at him as she thought, eyes taking in what she'd been missing in his absence. Her fingers trailed after her gaze, touching a time or two at the line of his cheekbone, a thumb to brush back the close-trimmed hair in front of his ear. "Maybe a little? I just want to…" Her eyes narrowed and she twisted her mouth a little as she took another moment to puzzle out what she wanted to say. She hoped he wouldn't mind the few extra seconds for her thoughts to settle.
"It had a rough ending, our last conversation. The one in the apartment, not on the journals. I'm feeling… better?... about it now. But I want to be sure… clarify some stuff. I mean…" She smiled, her eyes tracking down at how close they were, the way he held her hands even after they began to move apart. She squeezed his fingers lightly and nodded, looking back up at him, the smile still lingering at the corners of her lips. "This clarifies some. A lot. I just don't want to misstep." Her thumbs brushed over the backs of his hands, like she couldn't quite keep still when she was close enough to touch him. "We can talk a little and then get dinner?" Her eyebrows lifted with the question, expression a little pleased and a little hopeful. And then she smirked, a lift to one side of her mouth. "And I'll do my best to not kiss you the whole time so we actually can talk and eat."
He leaned close to press an innocent kiss to her cheek. Eddie didn’t look like he was capable of something like that on the surface, but anyone who knew him as well as Muerte understood that his sweetness, his love for life, came from a pretty innocent place. That wasn’t the case with a lot of comic book characters, most of them probably, so Eddie was different. Under the darkness of Gotham and the grit of the modern era was sweetness. He might have worked hard to hide it from the rest of his friends, but not Muerte. Even when she told him he was being too green.
Eddie leaned back, smiling fondly at her, and he tugged her hand so they could walk down the street, fountain on one side and cars on the other. The green man who wasn’t wearing green let Muerte lead the way, figuring she knew where they ought to go for dinner. He tilted his head back and looked at the glowing skyline, making a flurry of neon colored memories come rushing back. Eddie didn’t know how to be him without chasing those shiny, bright parts of life. And now that he was aware it was part of him, he thought maybe he could figure it out.
“I know I look like I’m very good with women, but I’m not.” Eddie said after a moment and turned his head to look at her. “I like women, I respect them, but I’m awful with them. Always have been.” He smirked, even if the edges of his mouth went a little sad. “I was a complete ass. That day I stormed out. I know I was. And, I’m sorry for it.”
It felt right to be walking along, holding Eddie's hand. For as quickly as they'd fallen into serious things, they hadn't spent much time out of hotel rooms and comic shops and apartments - they hadn't had the chance to really be a couple. And Muerte knew it, could see that was part of what they were maybe trying to do here. So she was quiet as she linked her fingers with Eddie's and enjoyed walking with him. Her steps weren't quick - not rushing anywhere in particular even though she did have thoughts for where they could get something to eat.
She noticed when Eddie took a moment to tip his head back, watched with a small smile as he took that moment for himself. She wondered what exactly was going on in his mind, but she didn't expect the next words, eyebrows lifting at the confessional quality to them. She stayed quiet until he was done, until an apology was given, and she thought about it. It was another minute before she nodded. "I accept your apology." It somehow didn't seem right to brush it off, to just say it was okay. The past few days had been hard.
It took a little while longer before she said anything else. And when she did, she looked right at Eddie. "It sucked. It doesn't mean I don't think you also had a point, but it didn't feel good. I'm not…" She tightened her fingers around his. "I'm not angry about it. I know we both have our stuff, and we're coming at things from different directions. I want to figure it out." She shook her head. "I still need some patience, though. I think I'm getting better with things. More comfortable being…" She gestured at herself with a wry twist to her smile. "Me. This way. I hope it seems like it to you, even though I know it's frustrating for me to be slower than what you're used to." Her fingers stayed tight, not wanting to let him go even though the words were difficult.
Eddie couldn’t help but think this was likely the most mature relationship conversation he ever had. There wasn’t anger there and Muerte was always considering both sides (when people called her selfish, he never really understood) and asking him to do the same. There was a request for patience and he didn’t know if he was good with that or not. If he could be patient even if he put all his heart into trying. “I know I’m not in the ideal mental shape for this kind of thing.” Eddie shrugged and when her fingers squeezed tight, he walked a little closer to her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over this idea I have in my head that someone else would be better for you. Someone who didn’t have all the problems I do. The quirks. The powers. That Gotham spirit.” He glanced at her. “You’d be better off with a real man’s man. Someone who can stay steady through everything. Who isn’t a bit of a coward. Who is perceptive, not just intelligent. I think you’re making the wrong choice, deciding to be with me, so I’m trying to be better. Trying to be the kind of guy that can be good for you.” Eddie sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Of course, I’ve felt this way about every woman I’ve cared about. From Felix to you. All of them. So, I’m hoping there’s something there I can’t see.”
She'd never been in a relationship before, not really, but she'd seen an uncountable number of them over her existence. And she knew that communication was so often the reason she'd seen things fall apart. There had been times that she'd shaken her head and wondered why people couldn't just talk to each other, but she understood now. At least to a point. It was hard to talk when there was so much feeling wrapped up in it too. But she was trying. Trying to explain herself, trying to see where Eddie was coming from. In a completely imperfect way.
So she did her best to listen, but the frown was on her face as soon as Eddie started to list so many of the things that were "wrong" about him. A frown, and her feet stopped, being sure to tug him over to the side so that they weren't in the middle of everyone trying to pass by. A shake of her head, and she wondered how she used to think that his ego could get out of control. Because it never seemed like that was really a problem to worry about anymore. She could see that unsteady foundation in insecurity - at least when he laid it out for her.
"It's complicated." She was just loud enough for him to hear over the rest of the Las Vegas tourists. "Because you're still looking for comparisons to other people. You're thinking along a line of better to best and you put yourself so low on it." Her eyes were intense again, that hint of the more she once was sneaking through again. "You miss the fact that you were my friend before we ever tried anything more than that. That yeah, we've had our problems, but we keep coming back together, and not in a way that feels bad to me." She was doing her best to not step in, too close, and attempt to kiss the worried expression from his face. "Have I asked you to change too much?" It was a real question now. "I've tried not to. Even through the hard stuff, I try to…" She made a face, shaking her head at herself again. "We both know I've got my issues too, and I'm trying to work on that. We're both human - it comes with difficulties." Her expression shifted, back into a little smile - tentative. "But isn't there good stuff, too? I've had some of my best times like this. I wouldn't have those without you." And after another moment: "And you need to stop me because I'm into rom com confession territory now…"
Eddie turned towards her when she came to a stop, his heel almost clicking against the pavement like he was doing softshoe for money. His lips moved wordlessly, as if there was a murmur there she couldn’t hear and he shook his head. “It was different being your friend. I could show up when you needed me, you could show up when I needed you. But, the day to day we kept to ourselves. It’s the day to day that’s hard. That’s when you can see all the flaws.” Eddie thought about the florescent lights in their comic book shop. How they showed her his age, how small he was, how normal. Even with all his history and his intellect and his powers. Eddie was just another human. A scrawny one at that.
He tilted his head at her question, eyes closing as he considered it. “I think I am changing. I don’t think I’m the same guy I was a year ago, two years, three. I’m different.” Eddie opened his eyes and shook his head. “Tell me that you don’t need me to be some big strong man for you, Muerte. Tell me that you don’t mind if I get like this sometimes. That even when I surprise you by climbing up to your balcony, it’s alright. Then, I won’t worry so much. Just tell me you like who I am. And, tell me the parts you don’t like, too. I can’t read your mind and I do want to be good for you. I want to be someone who is worth holding onto even with all these flaws and scars and baggage. Because there has been good. And I think there’s going to be a lot more of it. I know there will be. You just need to talk to me more.”
Eddie chuckled and brought her hand up so he could kiss her fingers, dark eyes still directed at her face. “Isn’t that what we’re here for? Romantic, cheesy confessions?”
"I want the day to day." Just as quiet and just as serious as she had been before. "I want it if you do. I want making eggs for breakfast and realizing there's no english muffins left and I want to sort pull lists and I want you to roll your eyes when I don't fold the towels the right way and I really hope no one is listening to me right now." She shook her head with a tiny laugh. "But that's when I get to see you smile. Or when you make me smile. And it feels good."
She stepped in closer, not wrapping her arms around him, and not quite leaning into him - not yet. "Sure, you're changing. I am too. It's because no one's writing us anymore." Which was terrifying, yes. But so was the next part. "I've been around too long to try to play pretend over people I don't like. I wouldn't say any of this just to be polite. It's my chance to live, and I want to fill it with things and people I want. The shop, the animals, being here… you. If I had wanted someone else, I wouldn't have made the decisions I did." Her fingers went even tighter around his. "I know you get like this. You always have - maybe you always will. I know that. And I'm still here." She took a breath, a deep one, and then pushed forward, her tone gentling just a little. "I don't like that you're so critical of yourself, but I know that's part of who you are. I don't like that you feel like you have to prove yourself to me when I'm already here. I don't like when you think you know better than I do about what I want or what I need or deserve, or any of those things, and I especially don't like when you take action based only on assumptions." Another breath. "But they're not deal breakers. None of them. Not for me, at least. As long as my stuff isn't deal breakers for you."
His shoulders shifted as if he expected her to pull him closer and when she didn’t, his posture went stiff. Back straight, eyes on her and he put effort into listening to what she had to say. No, he wasn’t good at putting himself in other people’s shoes, most rogues weren’t, so he had to listen if he wanted to understand. “Look, I know you probably figured this out-” He gestured with his free hand towards his head. “But, the riddles? The person I was for decades and decades? He was built out of this insecurity. He never thought he was good enough, smart enough, so he proved it to the other smartest guy in Gotham.” Eddie looked down at his feet and when he shrugged, it was like a little kid who hit a baseball into the living room window. A quick, up and down motion. Then, his shoulders slumped, perfect posture ruined and he shook his head. “If I could get over giving a shit if I was the smartest or not, I think one day I can get over whether or not I’m worthy to be loved. It just takes time. Patience. The theme of the night.”
There was a pause long enough to take in the sights and sounds of the Las Vegas strip. The busy buzz of tourists going by, the music playing from casinos and cars, the lights blinking from one end of the street to the other. Eddie took in a deep breath and looked up at her with a bit more confidence in his eyes. “None of your stuff is a deal breaker for me, either. Not by a long shot.” He made a motion like he wanted to lean forward to kiss her and then changed his mind. “Can I have a kiss?” He asked gently, boyish dark eyes a little more hopeful than they were before.
Her nod was small and her eyes were serious and a little sad. But it was because she was sad for him, not because of him. Because she wanted things for him that made him happy and content, not the things that made him hurt and question. "It took me a while, but I'm getting there. I always thought that telling you certain things would give you a big head and I didn't always understand that it was actually the other way around." She paused, that sadness still lurking just past the corners of her eyes. And when he looked down at his feet, she finally eased one hand away from his and touched his chin - so little pressure but hoping that he would look up again. "I'm sorry I didn't see that at first. That maybe I said things - or didn't say things - that made it worse." Her fingers traveled, a delicate line from his chin along his jaw, up to his cheek. And her next words were whispers. "You are worth so much, Eddie. And I think everyone deserves to be loved, but I think it even more for you. If there's anything I can do to help convince you… I'm trusting you to let me know, okay?"
The mood shifted, just enough, and she smiled. She lifted her face toward him when he started to lean in, and breathed out a charmed laugh when he stopped for his question. With a smirk of her own: "I don't know… can you?" But she was leaning in before he could answer at all, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that stayed innocent for only a second. The back-and-forth discussion had made her want to reassure Eddie that she did want him. Hand moving down to wrap around his tie to pull him carefully closer, she inhaled sharply into the kiss when her fingers brushed the ankh there. To her, it felt cold to the touch - like it had been left outside in the bitter middle of winter, like it wanted to pull the warmth from her hand. She moved her hand down, adjusted its hold on his tie, and didn't pull away from the kiss. Instead, she stepped in, pressing up against him again, just the right height to lift her chin the slightest bit and get lost in the kiss, open and warm. And not caring at all who might be passing by.
Eddie nodded and made a rough noise, unable to really do anything more than that. He wanted to say okay, that he’d give her all the detail on how to help him on this journey to become- well he didn’t know. A rogue on the side? A dual life? Or maybe he was taking a crash course towards putting all of that behind him? And, when it came to love, romance, commitment, could he really do it again? Was he meant to? These were all good riddles that he didn’t know the answer to. So, the nod would have to be enough for now, while he was still trying to keep afloat.
He could almost feel her smile and he looked up, giving her one of her own. “I mean may I-mmffh” her kiss interrupted whatever witty retort Eddie had and he grinned as her lips met his. The green man pulled her close and he was too wrapped up in the feeling of relief that they had gotten somewhere after taking so many steps back to notice her cool touch against the ankh on his chest. For him it was still warm, comforting and fuzzy, so why wouldn’t it be to her, too? She pressed closer and his arms wrapped around her, another strong hold as if he wasn’t ready to let her go.
She opened herself up and he deepened the kiss, his fingers reaching up to run through her hair like they were alone in their comic book shop instead of in the middle of the street. It made him feel good, that feeling they had just talked about chasing and so he was reluctant to pull back. Eventually, he did, lips only inches away from hers as he reached to run his thumb along her chin, cradling her jaw so, so gently. “I wanna ask you something.” His voice wasn’t anything like the intellectual Riddler neon that he wore around everyone else. It was rough, it said apartment next to Robinson Park in the 30’s and his accent was so outdated it couldn’t fit anywhere but an old timey movie. But, the way he spoke felt natural, like he was unraveling himself to show her something true something real. “Will you go steady with me?” He flashed her a smirk and chuckled, knowing full well it was a silly thing to ask.
The nod was enough for now. She knew that neither one of them had the end-game answers of where they were going - both together and as individuals. But letting each other know as things happened… she thought they could maybe do that, at least. To keep each other in the loop. She hoped.
The way she cut off his second attempt at the question made her laugh into the kiss, quickly forgotten at the press of his mouth against hers. His arms were tight around her, and the slip of the thin dress against her skin made her shiver. It took a forceful reminder to herself that they were in public for her to keep things just to that kiss, even though that alone left her a little breathless when he pulled back, a flush of color high on her cheeks. Both her eyebrows inched up in curious silent question, wanting to know what his own question was, but she tried to be patient and not rush him toward it. His voice slipped into that easy (old) accent, and she was learning to really listen when that happened. He wasn't alone in slipping back to the cadence of his youth when something really important needed to be said - she'd seen it happen for many people before, almost a slip of composure that signalled that need to listen. She recognized it, even if the same didn't happen for her.
The question was short, only a few words, but it took a moment for them to register. And in that moment, she just looked at him, eyes wide and dark. And maybe it should have seemed silly - to put it that way when they'd already lived together, opened a shop together, already taken those jumping leaps into more "serious" things. But the question seemed just as serious as all of those other things. The flush returned to her cheeks and she was nodding before she'd made the conscious decision to do so. And it was slow, but she finally smiled, and it widened quickly to match his own smile. "I think that's something I can agree to." Her reply was soft, and maybe still a little breathless (from the kiss or the question, it was hard to tell).
Eddie’s grin widened at the flush of color to her cheeks and he kissed her again, automatically, like he couldn’t help it. “Then, it’s settled.” He said, feeling a warm calm wash over him. He didn’t want her to be his girlfriend because he thought she needed the sense of security. He didn’t even want it to put a label on what they were so he could understand it better. He simply wanted to chase that feeling he got when he thought about being with her. When he knew that he could knock on her door at any time of the day and she’d let him in because they wanted to be together.
He kissed her again sweetly and then glanced down the row of cars. “Dinner, then? And, do try to keep your hands where I can see them. No funny stuff while I’m trying to show how fancy I can be.” Eddie teased and reached for her hand, threading his fingers with hers.