"Wait. Back up a little. So, you set the snake loose to track down the body?" Captain Essen asked. "Yes, ma'am. The snakes have an excellent sense of smell," Jim answered. "Well, now I know," Essen muttered. "And your prime suspects are a clown and an acrobat?" She shifted between the two detectives. "Yeah," Jim confirmed. "Ain't this one a doozy?" Harvey shook his head, still trying to process everything. Two sets of footsteps approached the open doors of Essen's office and Ed cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention.

"Your victim, Lila Valeska, was killed by a large knife or hatchet. Multiple blows to the head and upper torso," Ed explained, adjusting his glasses. "Around 3:00 yesterday afternoon," Lee added. "From 2:30 to 4:15, both Grayson and Lloyd were in the ring for the matinee," Jim recalled from the early interrogations. "Well, how precise is that time of death?" Essen questioned. As Ed was about to open his mouth, Lee cut in, stating it was about 45 minutes, give or take. "Still possible then, but cutting it close," Essen commented. "Hold and press your guys, but keep looking,"

"Yeah, boss, Forensics is working the crime scene now. We're going through her phone records," Harvey explained as they all got back to work. Slouched over in the spare chair next to her father's desk, Holly could feel herself dozing off, the lack of sleep starting to catch up to her. As her eyes fluttered closed, a loud bang echoed across the precinct, making her jump. "All right!" Her father's voice boomed as he stood by the holding cell, containing Alphonse Grayson and Owen Lloyd. "We're gonna send the rest of you home now, but the investigation is ongoing. Nobody leaves town," Jim instructed the rest of the circus. "And listen up! No more fighting! Look where your friends are. What good is this feud doing you?"

Holly looked a bit skeptical upon hearing that. If you want to catch a killer and you have multiple suspects, shouldn't you keep them in the same place? "I like it when you act all tough. "Nobody leave town," Lee chuckled when Jim joined them back at his desk. "Sounds better when you say it," Jim slightly chuckled. "We should pick up where we left off last night. Do you and Holly wanna come over? I can make you guys dinner," Lee offered.

"Sure, that sounds good," Jim smiled, his gaze shifting to Holly. "You up for it, Hols?" "Of course!" Holly nodded excitedly. Lee pressed a soft and quick kiss to Jim's cheek before turning to leave. But she didn't get far before she turned around and went back to him. "I have to ask. If you were to guess, who do you think killed Lila?" She questioned. "I try not to guess," Jim answered. "I work the suspects, and I wait on forensics," The gentle tapping of a cane and an elderly man's voice called out to them. Holly slightly shifted in her seat to see an old man dressed in a dark brown suit with thick sunglasses accompanied by a young boy.

"Excuse me," He called out again. "Am I speaking to Detective James Gordon?" "Yes," Jim answered. "Then... this must be Dr. Thompkins, the medical examiner, and your daughter, Holly Gordon," The old man pointed. "I'm sorry, how did you know who we were?" Lee questioned. "My name is Paul Cicero. I'm a psychic with the sideshow. Lila Valeska was an old friend of mine," Mr. Cicero introduced himself. Jim fought back the urge to roll his eyes, he wasn't one for believing in fairytales and potentially false information. "A psychic, I see. How could I help you, Mr. Cicero?" Jim asked.

"I sense that you don't think Owen or Alphonse are guilty," Mr. Cicero stated. "You must be psychic," Jim spoke sarcastically, but the old man continued. "In which case, perhaps you'd like to hear the message Lila sent me from the other side," "Thanks, Mr. Cicero, but we're not quite looking at the other side just yet," the detective declined. "As you wish. I'm merely a messenger," Mr. Cicero responded, turning around with the young boy's assistance, but Lee and Holly were rather interested in hearing what he had to say. "Wait, what's the message?" Holly inquired.

"Thank you, Ms. Gordon," The blind fortune teller slightly smiled before taking off his glasses. "Lila told me that the Servant of the Devil lies in the Garden of the Iron Sisters," Iron sisters? What is he talking about? Holly wondered. Lee tried to press further on what they were, but the old man stated he didn't know. "Well, we get right on it," Jim assured, the sarcasm still dripping in his tone. "I don't think sarcasm is your métier, James. Make of the message what you will. Good day to you all,"

With that final farewell, Mr. Cicero left, leaving the three of them in a cloud of confusion and skepticism. "Well, that wasn't very open-minded of you," Lee turned back to Jim. "Oh, come on Lee. He's a fraud," Jim insisted. "He's gonna go straight to the press and say he's consulting on the case. He's looking for publicity," "Maybe, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take this into consideration," Holly said. "If you were gonna send a message from beyond the grave, don't you think priority number one would be the killer's name and not a riddle?" Jim questioned.

"Who knows how it works?" Lee shrugged. "Alright, I'm not gonna argue with you," Jim backed down. "Good," Lee spoke seriously before walking off. "Hols, do you believe a word he said?" Jim asked Holly as he sat back at his desk. But the only response he got was Holly's gentle snoring as she finally fell fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Papers were scattered all across the library desk as Bruce read over the notes he had gathered during his research into Wayne Enterprises. Nearly every notebook page was written front to back in black ink in theories, questions, and minor and major flaws within the company. As Alfred stepped into the room, he cleared his throat as he stepped closer. "They called to confirm your meeting with the board of Wayne Enterprises tomorrow," Alfred explained, making Bruce's ears perk up. "Excellent. I was afraid they'd postpone again," Bruce nodded approvingly.

"Well, I'll say it one more time. I think that it's an incredibly bad idea, Master Bruce," Alfred looked hesitant. "I think it's reckless, I think it's premature, and, quite frankly, I think it's bloody dangerous," "And we've already been over this hundred times, Alfred," Bruce reminded. "My mind is made up. Can you pass me that file over there?" he requested. Of course Bruce wouldn't listen to him, he rarely did nowadays. "Well, I've said my piece. If we're both found dead in a ditch, don't blame me," Alfred said as he handed Bruce the file.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Late into the night, Barbara carefully stepped down the spiral staircase, wearing her sparkly silver heels and a short dark blue dress. Her sleeves were covered in strings of tassels, and a tiny black and gold belt rested at her waist. "Ta-da!" She posed at the bottom of the steps as Ivy and Selina silently judged her outfit while continuing to stuff their faces with food. "Nah," Ivy disapproved. "No?" Barbara looked hurt. "Jim loves me in this color," She remarked. "It's too obvious," Selina commented. "You gotta dress like you're not trying. Like you're on your way to go meet some other guy. To go sailing, or whatever,"

"Really? Sailing?" Barbara squinted. She may have come from a rich family, but if there was one thing she would never be caught dead doing, it was sailing. It just wasn't her style. "Alrighty," Barbara nodded before retreating upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lee's apartment was much bigger than Holly thought it would be. It wasn't like her mother's by any means, but it was very welcoming just like Lee. "Do you need any help with dinner?" Holly asked as Lee started pulling out pots and pans from the cabinets. "It's fine, Holly. You just sit down and make yourself at home," She assured. "You sure? I'd love to help out!" Holly double-checked. As Lee turned on the stove, she turned to where Holly was standing and saw her bright smile and the look in her eyes that was practically begging to help her out with dinner.

"Okay, why not?" Lee chuckled, gesturing Holly over. "Need my help too?" Jim asked. "Nah, I think we've got it covered from here," Lee smiled. If there was any other dish besides her grandmother's homemade spaghetti that Holly loved, it was a good roasted chicken. Just something about the crispness of the golden skin or the tenderness of the meat made her mouth water. No matter whose household she ate it at, it was still just as perfect as the first time she tried it.

As Holly helped Lee skin the potatoes and cook the green beans, Jim couldn't help but stare at them from the living room in awe. Not only was he incredibly happy that his daughter and Lee were getting along so well, but he could also see the level of maturity Holly possessed at her young age. She was growing up too quickly, and while Jim didn't want to admit that, he could already see the amazing young woman she was growing into. About an hour later, dinner was finally ready and as the three of them sat down at the table, Lee looked rather anxious to know how it came out.

"I want you both to be honest with me," Lee stated as Holly and Jim cut into their roast. And just as Holly expected, it was very very good. "This is delicious!" Holly smiled. "Oh my god!" Jim spoke up, swallowing his piece. "You like?" Lee double-checked. "Yes, very good!" Jim complimented. "And Holly, you did great on the beans!" "Well, I had a great teacher," Holly chuckled, looking over at Lee. "Oh, you're too sweet!" Lee's cheeks blush a slight pink.

"So, Holly. When did you start painting?" Lee asked. "I think I was six or seven?" Holly answered, slightly questioning herself. "It can't remember, it's been so long," "Well, I can tell you how passionate you are about it. Especially when it comes to little details," Lee took a sip from her wine glass. "Thanks," Holly smiled. Suddenly, a thought crossed Lee's mind, making her drop her fork. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed. Holly and Jim quickly looked up from their plates, wondering if she was okay. "What's wrong?" Jim asked. 

"No, it's good!" Lee assured. "It's my sister's recipe. She's a brilliant cook. I was thinking of my sister, and it came to me: I think I know what the blind man's message means. The Servant of the Devil lies in the Garden of the Iron Sisters. The Iron Sisters. Arkham Bridge," "Aren't the towers called Mary and Betty?" Holly asked, recalling one of her recent history lessons. "I remember as a kid, we used to call them that," Jim nodded.

"Right. And there's a park under the towers on the Gotham side," Lee further explained. "A garden? Now that you say that, it does fit," Holly commented. "Girls, it fits an impossible story," Jim set down his fork. "He didn't speak with Lila Valeska, she's dead," "So you say, Dad. Not all psychics are fakes, some are legit," Holly stated. Even if they were wrong, it couldn't hurt to do a bit of late-night investigating. "Come on, you're a doctor, a scientist," Jim reminded Lee. "There are plenty of things in this world that can't be explained by rational science," Lee claimed.

Jim's arrogance was taking over, and even Holly could sense it in her father's demeanor. "Yeah, people who enjoy folk dancing, for instance. That doesn't mean ghosts exist," He spoke sarcastically. "You're very arrogant in your certainty," Lee said. "She's right. What if this is a clue to the murder? We can't just sit around and wait for the case to solve itself. We have to do something," Holly nodded, grabbing her and Lee's coats from the coat rack.

"Fine, I'll go by myself," Jim caved in. "We're coming with you," Holly insisted. "Okay, we'll go together. First thing in the morning," Holly and Lee looked rather shocked by that and insisted they go right now, but Jim did not seem too happy about the dark adventure. "Now? You guys want to go now?" He sighed. "It's only half a mile away," Lee said. "But it's dark out," Jim pointed to the window with his knife. "I have a flashlight," Lee answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After much persuasion from Lee and Holly, Jim finally relented and agreed to check Iron Sisters Park. The sounds of passing cars rattling on the bridge swooshed overhead. The three of them followed the dark and twig-covered path, searching for anything that stuck out to them. But so far, they only found a couple of firelit trashcans and homeless people sitting around them trying to get warm. "So, what are we looking for exactly?" Jim asked, shining the flashlight from one area to the next. "I know, I know," Lee said. "This is probably a complete waste of time. Thank you for doing this,"

"No problem," Jim replied. "But let's not make a habit out of it, okay? This is not the place for you or Holly," "Ha!" Lee scoffed. "What do you mean 'ha?" Jim asked confused. "You're a hypocrite. You say you want a strong woman to share this crazy life you've chosen, but when push comes to shove, you want me to stay home and bake cookies," Lee pointed out. "Pie," Jim clarified. "Any kind of pie," As the leaves crunched under Holly's winter boots, she couldn't help but notice the way the homeless were looking at her. Some looked envious, while others looked like they were about to pounce on her. But with the presence of her father, her nerves slightly calmed as she tried to avoid their stares.

"So, if someone were to throw something from a car on the bridge, this is where it would land,"  Lee pointed. Jim and Holly followed her flashlight back to the bridge as it menacingly towered over them. "Yeah, but where do you think it could've landed? I'd say we've got about two miles of ground to cover," Holly questioned. They turned their focus back to scanning the ground, and amidst all the leaves and litter, Jim spotted something covered in blood poking out of the ground. "Lee, Holly," The girls stopped their search, and looked down at where Jim was shining his light.

"THFC," Lee read. "What does that mean?" "The Hellfire Club," Jim answered. "It's a Satanist cult. Committed a string of ritual murders. But they haven't been active for a decade or more," "Do you think they might be back?" Holly inquired. "No. No, I don't think so," Jim shook his head as he reached into his pocket for his phone. "Hey, Sarge, I'm gonna need a couple mobile units to pick some people up. But listen. They need careful handling," Jim requested.

When they got back to the GCPD, the tension between the three of them was high as they each had their own suspicions as to the person behind Lila Valeska's murder. While the thought of the old man being responsible did cross Holly's mind, there was no way that could've been the possibility. He was too old and definitely too frail to be carrying an axe around with him. Unless... he had an accomplice. "Just bear in mind that you could be wrong about all of this," Lee broke the silence just as Jim was about to walk towards the interrogation room.

"I will bear it in mind. I will, but I'm not wrong," Jim said. "So go on home now, lady," Lee remarked. "Hey. We were having a perfectly lovely evening. I am not the ones who wanted to go out searching for Satanist hatchets. You know what I wanted to do," Jim sighed. Come on, Dad! Holly internally sighed. If he kept talking like this, he'd screw up his chance of a long-term relationship. "You're right," Lee mumbled. "I'm sorry, what?" Jim asked. "I tend to get overly enthusiastic about things. It's an issue for me. My mom always said..." Lee trailed off. "Who gives a crap what my mom said, right? Have a good night, Jim. Let me know how it all turns out. Pleasure to meet you, Holly,"

"Good night, Lee," Jim whispered. Lee turned on her heel back to the precinct entrance, but as she walked away, Jim could feel the guilt start to creep in. And as he felt Holly's gaze on him, he knew he had to make things right. "Wait!" He called out. "What you said earlier, about hypocrisy, sharing lives. You're right. Let's go," Jim admitted. "And I'm what?" Lee said with a tiny smile. "And you're right," Offering his arm to her, Lee gladfully wrapped her arm around his, following him towards the interrogation room.

"Hols, you stay out here, okay? Detective Alvarez will look after you," Jim looked to where she was sitting. I can look after myself, but okay? 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Good evening, Mr. Cicero. Sorry to bring you down here so late," Jim spoke to the old man as he and Lee sat at the opposite end of the table. "Good evening, Detective Gordon, Dr. Thompkins," Mr. Cicero greeted them, stroking his cane. "How did you...?" Lee asked confused. "He smells your perfume," Jim answered. "We solved the message Lila sent you. Took us to Arkham Bridge Park. We found a hatchet there with Satanist symbols scratched into it," "Dear Lord," Mr. Cicero grew quiet, taking off his glasses.

"You know what that hatchet means, Mr. Cicero?" Jim questioned. "Tell me," Mr. Cicero ushered. "It means you're an accessory to murder," The detective answered. "Such drama. I merely passed along a message," the old man insisted. "A message from the dead. Didn't happen," Jim shook his head. Which means you invented the message. Which means you had someone plant the hatchet for us to find. You wanted us to think Satanists were responsible for Lila's death. You're protecting somebody,"

"Lila spoke to me. That's all," Mr. Cicero said. "You know, a hatchet is a clumsy ploy. You wouldn't try it unless you were desperate. Which suggests you're protecting someone close. Someone you love," Jim spoke, his voice growing lower and lower. "This fantasia was conjured in your blinkered mind. If you could only see what I see..." Before Mr. Cicero could finish his sentence, the door opened, and an officer stepped inside, Jerome Valeska following close behind. "Hi, Jerome. Please, take a seat. You remember Mr. Cicero, from the show?" Jim greeted him.

"Yes, sir. Hello, Mr. Cicero," Jerome nodded, sitting next to the old man. "Good evening, Jerome," Mr. Cicero replied. "Do you know why you're here?" Jim questioned the young boy. "Did you find out who killed my mother?" Jerome asked anxiously. "You killed your mother, Jerome. You killed her up on that hill, and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer. He told you to scratch the Satanist stuff on the hatchet and throw it off the bridge," Jim explained, watching the shock form on Jerome's face. "Sir, that's absurd and offensive!" Jerome gaped. "But it's the truth," Jim continued. "What I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you. I think he's your father,"

Jerome was quick to deny the possibility, stating that his father was Sven Karlson, a captain who died at sea many years ago. "What was the name of his ship?" Jim asked. "He worked on a lot of different ships," Jerome stated. "The one he went down in," the detective specified. "My mother never said," Jerome grew quiet as he stared at the table. "We can do a blood test to prove I'm right. It takes only half an hour to get a foolproof result. Isn't that right, Dr. Thompkins?" Jim turned to his girlfriend.

"Yes," Lee confirmed. "Save yourself a needle," Jim glanced between the two men. Mr. Cicero reluctantly sighed as he admitted he hated needles. Jerome slowly turned towards him, his face still painted with shock and disbelief. "I'm sorry, Jerome," The old man apologized. "What are you talking about?" Jerome questioned, hoping this was all a bad nightmare he could wake up from. "He's right. I am your father," Mr. Cicero nodded. "No, you're not. Why would you say that?" Jerome denied. "You're not my father. My mother would never..." 

"Your mother was a cruel woman. She was often unkind to me, but she did once love me in her way. And she loved you very much. That's why she gave you a better father," Mr. Cicero explained. Tears pricked at Jerome's eyes as he buried his face into the table, sobbing into his jacket sleeves. But not long after the truth was revealed, Jerome's sobs turned into fits of maniacal laughter. A toothy and creepy grin revealed itself as he turned back to Mr. Cicero, the innocent boy facade fading away. "My mother was a cold-hearted whore who never loved anyone. And she'd never touch a pathetic old creep like you," Jerome spoke darkly.

"All these years, do you think I was kind to you because I'm such a good man? If I wasn't your father, would I help you as I have, after what you did?" The old man spoke, a touch of venom in his raspy voice. "My father... Hmm. I'll be damned," Jerome shifted in his seat before bursting into laughter. "Looks like the bitch got me with a zinger in the end," He smirked. "Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?" Jim asked. "Oh, you know how mothers are," Jerome shrugged. "She just... kept... pushing.  And I'm like, fine, mom. Be a whore. Be a drunken whore, even. But don't be a nagging drunken whore. Don't come yell at me to do the dishes if you've been banging a clown in the next room!" He pounded his fists against the metal, his grin a full-on Cheshire cat smile.

It was a twist that neither Jim nor Lee was expecting. Even the most calm, shy, and innocent-looking people could be a psychopathic killer in disguise. Mr. Cicero looked completely unphased as Jerome continued to laugh as if he heard the most hysterical joke at a comedy show, and with a slight turn of his head, the officer slipped the cuffs around Jerome's wrists. Watching as the young man was led to a holding cell, Jim slipped a comforting arm around the small of Lee's back, sensing the fear coursing through her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting and waiting for her dad and Lee to come out of the interrogation room felt like she had been waiting for a decade. And she could feel herself starting to doze off again. But she kept herself occupied by texting Cara and spilling the tea on some of what was going on. And just like Holly, Cara was rather intrigued with the drama between the Graysons and Lloyds. Sounds like Romeo and Juliet: Circus Edition! Cara texted. It really does! Holly agreed. "You want some coffee?" Detective Alvarez asked. Holly looked up from her phone to see him holding a white steaming cup, setting down a second one on his desk for himself.

"Sure, thanks," Holly smiled, taking a small sip from it. "No problem, kid," Alvarez nodded before returning to his work in silence. Typewriters and the ringing of phones filled the precinct as Holly went back to scrolling. "Holly?" a voice called out to her, pulling her out of her absentminded thoughts again. "Holly!" It called out again. Holly scanned the crowd of officers and criminals walking in and out of the building. Just by the front doors, Holly saw her mother, clutching a black bag, smiling at her. "Mom? What are you doing back here?" Holly stood up. "I came to see you!" Barbara embraced. "I missed you!"

"Really? You missed me?" Holly asked, awkwardly returning the hug. "Of course I did!" Barbara nodded. "Then why didn't you call me? You had me thinking you were dead or that you just completely forgot about me and Dad!" Holly knew she should've been happy her mom had returned, but just the pain of her absence struck a raw nerve. "Honey..." Barbara bent down, resting her hand on Holly's shoulder. "I am so sorry. I know I can't make up these past few months, but I'll do anything to make it right with you," Barbara pleaded.

Holly wanted to stay mad at her mom, but she couldn't deny that even through the darkest times, her mom still loved her despite all her past mistakes. "Just don't do that again," Holly whispered, leaning in for another hug. "Oh thank you, sweetheart. I promise things are going to be okay from now on. Now, where's Dad?" Barbara asked. "Oh... um," How could Holly tell her that her dad had moved on with someone else? It wasn't her place to explain the situation, and she wouldn't just blab about her dad's personal life without the okay from him. "He's in the back," Alveraz answered. Damn it! Holly sucked in a breath. "Thanks. I'll be right back," Barbara smiled before walking off towards the back. And the further her mother walked toward the interrogation room, the more Holly's heart raced, threatening to burst at any moment.

"You guys have no sense of humor!" Another voice boomed through the precinct. Loud cackling filled the room, and Holly and nearly everyone present looked over to see Jerome being pushed into a holding cell. He sharply scanned the whole room, his eyes pitch black, not a touch of remorse inside them. His gaze then fell onto Holly, who was shocked to see him acting this way. How could a seemingly sweet and tortured kid turn out to be such a psychopath? With a sickening wink in Holly's direction, Jerome sat on the bench and propped his feet up in the holding cell, his laughter still echoing throughout the precinct.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jerome's cackles and whoops of holler echoed in Lee's head as she sat in the locker room, staring off into nothingness. Jim peered into the locker room, noticing her prolonged silence, and tapped at the door, pulling her out of her daze. "Long night, huh? Guess it got kind of ugly," Jim tried to make light of the dark situation. "Yes, it did," Lee agreed. "You okay?" Jim asked, sitting across from her on the bench. "I'm good. Truly. It was ugly, but it was also kind of thrilling," She admitted. "Thrilling?" Jim questioned. "Thrilling and scary," Lee clarified. "Like looking down a deep, dark tunnel. Thanks for letting me be there,"

As Jim sat on the cot next to her, Lee leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You are an unusual woman," Jim commented. "You just don't know many women," Lee chuckled, slowly reaching for his hand and taking it into hers. "Can we go home now?" She whispered into his ear. "Mhmm," Jim nodded, slowly leaning in until his lips collided with hers, his hands running through her hair as a heavier dose of passion coursed through their veins. But unaware to either of them, Barbara caught sight of what was going on. And the longer she stared at Jim making out with another woman, the more heartbroken and angrier she became. Without saying a word, she stormed back down the hall, tightly clutching her purse. 

"Come on, Hols. We're leaving," She hissed. "B-But..." Holly stammered. "No buts! We're leaving!" Barbara grabbed her daughter's arm, dragging her out of the precinct.