A/N: I has asked someone to beta read this for me, but I'm too antsy about posting this. Plus, if I keep it much longer, I will eventually tweak it to the point that it's not the story I want it to be. I know I need to work on the cadence of Richard's delivery, I apologize if it reads like William Shatner performing 'Slingblade' :') This originally was intended as a one-off, but the characters ended up writing their own story as I worked. If you enjoy this, I can keep going with their story. They're still running around my head with different little plot nuggets to work on. I look forward to your thoughts and advice on improving my writing. Thank you.

Chapter 1

She shouldn't have been out that late alone. Kathleen knew this, but there was something so peaceful about the boardwalk in the wee hours of the morning. The sound of the waves gently caressing the shoreline. The whisper of the wind as it brushed across the boards. Sleeping birds tucked in their nests, cooing softly to little bird dreams. It was these quiet moments that Kathleen adored, the few hours after even Babette's had closed for the night, but before the early riser started their daily bustle.

She had stood by the railing and watched the moon rise and slowly make it's way across the sky, watching the silvery reflection as it rippled and swayed over the waves. It was when the clouds started to roll in, hiding the moon, that she knew she should go home. It was a trek she'd made dozens of times since to moved to Atlantic City, and the worse thing that had happened to her was that one time she slipped on wet pavement and ended up in a puddle of something that was quite smelly and still warm that she really didn't want to contemplate further.

But there was something different about tonight. A few blocks away from the boardwalk, the peaceful quiet seemed to take on an ominous feel. Kathleen felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. She quickened her steps and glanced over her shoulder. She didn't see anything, but that only made her more wary.

She made it to Atlantic Ave., only two and a half blocks from her home, when it happened. As she was crossing the street, there was a sudden screech of tires and blinding light hitting her eyes. She stood paralyzed as a car came speeding towards her. The light grew brighter, encompassing everything to her, and she thought that this must be the pathway to heaven, the brighter it grew the closer she was to salvation. What were those quick bursts of light and sound off to the side? Were those screams? Was that her screaming?

Suddenly something barreled into Kathleen from the side, knocking her out of the way, into the blissful concealing shadows. There was a man on top of her, and his weight shifted slightly as he moved to shoot at the passing car. Still screaming, Kathleen heard the sound of bullets hitting brick, metal, glass and the unmistakable sickening sound of bullets hitting flesh. There was a pain-filled scream, and suddenly the car sped away. A moment more of gunfire, then the unnatural silence of an evening recently disturbed settled in.

"Shut that broad up!" someone shouted. Kathleen felt a gloved hand over her mouth and heard an almost grunted 'Shh.' She swallowed the scream that she so desperately wanted to release. Hurried footsteps approached her from all around, one of them uneven. She squeezed her eyes closed, certain she was going to die in the next moment and not wanting to see it coming.

"How in the fuck did they know we were here?" someone said angrily. "They knew we were waiting!"

"I don't know," another voice said. "Makes me think we have a snitch somewhere."

"Holy shit, Harrow! That was some fucking awesome shooting! And you weren't even looking."

"Mmm..." the man on top of Kathleen said. "Probably would've done, . Better if I didn't have . To save her." Kathleen slowly opened one eye and peered up at the man on top of her. The left side of his face was in shadow, but the right side of his face was bathed in streetlight, and all she could think was that this bespeckled man looked so young and gentle. Kathleen opened both eyes as the man moved off of her. There were six other men around her, each of them carrying guns, a couple of them bleeding, all of them looking tired.

"I think we oughta go after 'em, Jimmy. Finish 'em off while they're wounded." Everyone, including Kathleen, looked at a fair haired man who was staring in the direction of the departed car.

"Not tonight," Jimmy said after a moment's thought. "I think we need to talk to the Commodore, see if he has any thoughts on this." He looked down the road for another moment, then turned his gaze to Kathleen. "Who the hell are you? And what the fuck are you doing out this late?"

"M...my...na...name is Kathleen Gallagher, sir." Her voice trembled, and it was raw sounding from the screaming. She probably wouldn't have a voice tomorrow, assuming she lived to see tomorrow, of course. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "I was out walking. I like the boardwalk at night, when it's deserted. It's peaceful."

"This ain't the boardwalk, lady," one of the men said, the one who had complimented Harrow's shooting. "The boardwalk's that way." He pointed over his shoulder. Unfortunately, over his shoulder was north.

"Actually it's. That way," Harrow replied, pointing southeast.

"That still don't explain what she's doin' here," the man replied.

"Walking...walking home," Kathleen stammered. "It is three in the morning." She glanced at her watch to confirm this, and gave a small cry when she realized her watch, a gift from her mother, was shattered. "Oh...hell's bells!"

"Mmmm...closer. To four."

Kathleen ran her hands over her face. "Whatever," she said. "If you're going to kill me, kill me. If you're not going to kill me, can I please go home?"

"Why would we kill you?" Jimmy asked.

"Because I just saw..." she waved her hand around, encompassing the men, the street, and everything "what ever that was. I don't know who you are, or who they are, or what just happened, but isn't that what you people do? Kill witnesses?"

Jimmy gave a small sad smile and shook his head. "Richard, escort Miss Gallagher home. Then meet me back at the house. The rest of you, go home, clean up, tend to your wounds. I'll get ahold of you tomorrow." With that, Jimmy turned and slowly limped away. The others slowly drifted away, none of them heading in the direction of Kathleen's home.

She looked up at Harrow, who now, mostly in shadow, seemed terribly ominous and deadly. "Um, sir, I, uh...it's only um...I mean, you can go...I uh...that is I only live right up the road, and um..."

"Mmmm...Jimmy said I should. Take you home. I'll take you home." He cocked his head at her. "Mmm, do you think. I'm going to mmm. Kill you as we. Walk?"

Since that was exactly the thought that was going through her mind, Kathleen said "The thought hadn't even occurred to me. It's just, uh, I'm sure you're busy, or tired or um...are you going to kill me as we walk?"

"Not. Tonight, mmm." He held out his hand and helped her to her feet. Kathleen smoothed her skirt and began walking slowly, hoping her shaking legs wouldn't give out on her. They walked in silence, both of them looking straight ahead. It didn't take long to reach Kathleen's apartment building.

"This is it," she said. "Um, I don't know if there's a proper way to do this, but um, thank you for saving my life back there. I really appreciate it."

"Next time look. Both ways. mmm, Before crossing the street. "

Kathleen felt a small laugh break free, part nerves, part exhaustion, part true humor. Without thinking she leaned in and kissed Harrow's right cheek, then his left. One was cool unfeeling metal, the other warm tender flesh and blood.

Richard saw the puzzled look on her face and mistook it for horror. "Jekyll and Hyde. All at once. That's me." And he turned and walked away.

Kathleen watched him disappear into the shadows. She wanted to call out to him, but didn't dare. She'd watched him shoot, possibly (probably?) kill people. That wasn't the kind of man she needed to know. But he had pushed her out of the way of the speeding car, risking himself when it was logical to think that leaving her in the middle of the road would have been a good idea. Hitting her might've slowed the car enough for Harrow, Jimmy and other others to get everyone in the car. Could he really be a cold blooded killer if he was willing to save a stupid woman who didn't have the sense to pay attention to traffic? Speaking of cold blooded, that was brilliant on her part to act like he was some horrific monster just because of his mask. Hadn't she seen enough gruesome injuries as a nurse in the war? Missing limbs, third degree burns, internal organs hanging out...

"Kathleen Susanne Gallagher, you are a bloody idiot sometimes," she said to herself. She turned and went up the steps, letting herself quietly into the building and then into her apartment. As she cleaned herself up and got ready for bed, she came to a decision. She was going to find Richard Harrow tomorrow and apologize.

Richard didn't go far when he walked away from Kathleen. Just far enough that he knew she couldn't see him. But he could still see her standing in front of the step, and he watched as a wide range of emotions passed across her face. He couldn't identify any of them, but something about the woman intrigued him. He planned to leave when she went inside, but when he saw a light come on up on the third floor, and saw her silhouette in the window, he remained where he was. Part of him planned how he could shoot her from where he was standing, if it came to it. But a small, quiet part of him that only occasionally let itself be heard plotted a way to climb up to her window. When her light suddenly went out, he shook his head and turned away, heading back towards Jimmy's.