Oswald let out a tender grumble in appreciation as the girl laid down his breakfast, plated on fine china. A hefty plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon appeared before him, which elicited a pleased chitter from his throat. A honeyed hue of morning sun trickled in from the intricate curtains behind the kingpin, painting his pudgy figure in a warm shade of gold.

A few months ago, Oswald saw the young woman one night while cruising through Gotham in one of his limousines. She was simply purchasing groceries, but her face gave him pause, because she looked too damn similar to his poor mother. The resemblance was uncanny, the girl just younger and fuller. Same soft features, silky hair, smooth skin, doe eyes... he knew he couldn't just let her get away. No, Oswald needed her. The formidable crimelord never quite healed from his mother's cruel death, since she had been the only person in life to offer him love. He longed for a clutch.

As for you, being the Penguin's handmaiden paid very well. Cash rolled in faster than you could spend it, leaving you able to afford lavish tweaks to your apartment, new clothing, and able to wipe out any debt. Plus, the Penguin wasn't too invasive, and had mostly been a complete gentleman. You cooked for him, baked, sang, read to him, and cleaned, all while he kept you pampered. For a few nights every week you stayed at his estate, a huge mansion just on the outskirts of the city, in your own sumptuous room; an outfit and apron provided.

"Thanks, love," a gruff murmur praised, muffling soon after as Oswald shoveled fluffy pancakes into his mouth. His piercing gaze followed as you poured a generous glass of orange juice, a fond grin tugging at his papery lips. "Outdone yourself, you have."