PSL 02: Fresh Air

[theansweris]

It took Ed four days, and most of that seemed to be waiting for approval from one office to go to the next office and get approved further along the line. Then they had to give appropriate notice and argue among themselves until it was agreed that it had to proceed, even with the objections from the DA and the GCPD.

The allowed clothing was restricted, but for the court appearance, Oswald was given some of his own clothes back, even if just his shirt, pants and jacket.

The session was mostly reading a list of the charges Oswald had been convicted of and the lawyer using Ed's neatly produced list to cite off why each of those was unsound and would require, at minimum, re-trial with due consideration to the burden of proof and threshold of prosecution.

It was a long, long session. But it ended with the conclusion that the state could not hold Oswald at this interval and thus

"-Mr Cobblepot, it is the finding of this court that your conviction was unsound and thus, you are free to leave this court. This is not a finding of not guilty, nor an absolution of charges, but a legal determination that the burden of proof has not been met."

There were reporters outside, of course. There were also several men in suits by a limo that was ready and waiting to whisk Oswald and his lawyer off.

From there, it was a drive. Out and to the Van Dahl manor, past the gates to keep out intruders and press and there, waiting on the stoop, was Ed, hands laced and a smile on his face as the car pulled up.

Comments

[theansweris]

Riddler's patience is already being strained. He wants to kiss again, to work at it until they have it down perfect.

But Oswald withdraws and Riddler sighs softly, nodding his understanding. "Yes. I understand. I'd worry this was a dream, but I've barely slept since I got out of Arkham." He's been busy. He's been wary. He hasn't been sure Olga wouldn't put him down with that shotgun of hers that she still claims is to keep down rabbits in the non existent garden.

shhh, she's hunting wabbits

[hobblepot]

[He sighs, too drained to attempt Mother Hen-ing Ed into bed; he might not like it, but he understands it.]

If you intend on staying up for a while, then at least consider making yourself comfortable and tinkering with your music box somewhere that isn't a desk. Or the floor.

[He pats the cushions between them and rises to his feet, absently tugging his robe tighter across his chest as if he's wearing nothing underneath.]

Can't have Olga tripping over you in the morning.

[theansweris]

"I promise to be out of Olga's way. I'll head to the library, do some reading, maybe take some books to bed. No falling asleep on the floor or a desk, I promise."

The music box will take research and a lot of it. He might need to learn how to enamel to pull it off.

"You're heading to bed? Can I tuck you in, give you a kiss goodnight?"

[hobblepot]

[Canting his head.]

Tempting, I'll admit. [He slots his hands into his pockets, a hint of a wry, weary little smile on his lips.] But that's kind of cheating, isn't it?

[Either way, his will is not so strong that he can step away and turn himself around without giving the offer some thought.]

I think I'd offer to tuck you in, but you're a busy man, obviously. And let's be real - you'd probably jump right out of bed the moment I'm out the door, anyway.

[theansweris]

"it's definitely cheating," Riddler agrees. "But we're not really the sort of men to always play by the rules, are we?"

A small shrug follows, with a small smile. "Guilty as charged. Anyway, I need to get Ed settled before we even think about sleep. His anxiety will keep us both up if I don't. And that means some reading, maybe a walk in the grounds." Maybe go and investigate about the place. Though he had an idea about a surprise present for Oswald...

[hobblepot]

Fair. [He cedes without a shred of guilt, his expression unchanging.] But timing, my friend, is everything.

[There's little left to say that hasn't already been said on showing some restraint. And between the fading shock of kissing and being kissed and zagging violently between emotional extremes, he's worn down and wrung-out, not much talk left in him. It'd be nice if his brain proved as ready to quit on him as his legs are; he's not so confident he'll make it through the night without a single bad dream breaking up his sleep, but a man could hope.]

Good luck with that. [He tosses the answer casually, but means it - and he lingers a while, wetting his lips as he shifts around a little and looks everywhere but at Ed. Whatever Oswald seems to be waiting for isn't there, though, and he nods eventually, wheeling around and limping to the door.] Good night to you both.

[theansweris]

Riddler catches Oswald's hand for a last squeeze, but then lets him go. "Good night, Oswald."

He'll pop out for a while, once he's sure Oswald is settled in bed and try and be back before he wakes.