The bar was dark and quiet. Not unusual for a Tuesday morning. It was an old rundown place. The sort of establishment frequented by people who didn't want to be bothered or recognized.

The lone patron sat on a stool at the end of bar. Still wearing yesterday's wrinkled clothes, her hair was messed and make up smeared. Her hand shaking, she lifted the glass to her mouth. She tried her best to ignore the bartender's condemning gaze and the burn of the scotch as it rolled down her throat.

In one long pull, she finished the small glass, and despite her gentle motions, it made a clunking noise as she abandoned it on the bar.

"You want 'nother?" the bartender asked, his voice deep and disinterested.

Sweet Alice looked at him, and he blinked at her sleepily. Biting her lip and fighting tears she nodded. She didn't trust her voice not to crack. She didn't trust herself to be able to withhold her pain.

The bartender set up another scotch, and Alice reached for the glass, her hand a little less shaky his time. She sipped at it, the sting of the harsh drink becoming less and less painful as her world mellowed around her. Absently, she wondered if he would show up to pay her tab this morning. Then she wondered if she even cared anymore.

She really shouldn't care about him as much as she did.

Looking at the bartender, she watched as he stood behind the bar, looking unimpressed and wiping beer glasses with his dingy rag. Was he unimpressed with her or his own life? She wasn't certain but she longed to know which.

Taking another drink, she imagined all the things the bartender would say to her. If he were her friend or even her enemy. Things like "Go home, kid. This city has chewed you up and spit you out. We've taken what we wanted; we're all done with you now."

Or maybe he would be a little more kind. He'd look at her in a fatherly way, take her hand and softly say, '"Alice, I know your hurting, but the way you're living isn't going to help that. Go home. Go be something more than what you are."

The words sounded right but the person saying them was wrong. She longed to hear them from somebody else. She want him to say those words. Maybe he'd kiss her softy and stare deeply into her eyes or maybe he'd brush his long slender fingers through her faded blonde hair, either way she dreamed of a day when he'd set her free.

She longed for him to set her free.

Slipping from her hand, the glass landed hard on the bar. The side of it cracked, leaving a circular spider web of damage.

The bartender's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. He reached out and grabbed the destroyed glass.

"Is your man gonna show to pay for that?" he asked harshly.

"He ain't my man," Alice snapped back. Furious at his tone and what he was implying. "And I pay my own way."

Her brow furrowed and she fought angry tears. The bartender's words cutting a little too deep. What right did he have to judge her? Besides, her money was as good as anyone else's despite how she earned it.

The bartender turned, tossing the glass in the trash can.

Suddenly, Alice felt sorry for the glass. Left broken and discarded in the trash. Thrown away and quickly forgotten.

Just like her.

She wiped at her weepy eyes. Her breath came in short sobs as she fought the pain inside of her. She didn't want to think of him today. Especially if he wasn't going to show up and pay for her drinks.

"Jesus," the bartender mumbled in annoyance. He was disgusted but still set her up another drink.

Alice grabbed at the glass. She drank its contents all in one gulp, hopeful it would be enough to erase the memories of man whom she loved more than life.

A man who didn't love her at all.

The bar door opened, and a sliver of light spread across the floor. The bartender nodded as the familiar man made his way to the bar.

Alice heard his feet padded firmly on the floor, and she didn't need to turn to know it was him. She rubbed her hands over face, forcing herself to regain her composure. He had come and she would feign happiness, no matter what it would cost her in the evening.

"Whiskey. Neat," he stated as he sat on the stool next to her.

The curt order told Alice everything she needed to know.

He had worked the night shift last night, and whatever went down had been bad. He only ordered hard liquor when saw something he wished he could forget. When the job became too much for him to handle.

The bartender placed the whisky in front of the man and he grabbed it. Swiftly throwing it back, it was gone in one gulp.

Alice fought a smile, as he pulled the glass back and grimaced at the taste of the harsh liquid. She wondered if he would ever get used to the sting of it. Deep down she hoped he never would.

He waved at the bartender to set up another. Alice bit her lip, fear clutching her heart. He rarely ordered more than one.

What terrible depravity had he been witness to this time?

Finishing the second drink, the man set the glass on the bar. Finally, he turned to her and smiled, his blue eyes shining with exhaustion and slight inebriation.

"Hiya, sweetheart," he grinned. "You ready to get outta here?"

She looked at him, butterflies fluttering in her chest. She quickly lost herself in his eyes and electric smile, and she hated herself for it. She would hate herself even more come evening. Fighting her crippling intoxication, her love for this man, she blurted out the only thing she could think of.

"I'm not good enough for you, you know. I'm nowhere close enough to perfect."

He tilted his head and smiled warmly. His response was devastating, yet, everything she wanted to hear.

"Alice, you may not be perfect, but at least you're always here."

Standing, she smiled and smoothed her rumpled clothes. "Pay for my drinks?" she asked with a wink and grin.

"Sure thing, babe."

Starsky stood. He pulled a few wrinkled bills from his front pocket and abandoned them on the bar.

"That oughta cover it." He nodded at the bartender. "Thanks for taken care of my girl."

Alice felt a rush of excitement at his words, but in her heart she knew it wasn't the truth.

They would go back to her place, and she would give Starsky what he needed. Maybe he'd stay a while after. Hold her and make her feel safe. But the morning would pass, and once it did, she would be far from his girl.

END