Disclaimer: Credit goes where credit's due – all characters belong to their respective owners.
Author Notes: This is the first in a series of drabbles for a fairtytale challenge, losely based on Cinderella.

1. Meet and greet

He stumbled into her bar, the sunlight burning a hole in his already swollen head. He felt like he might be dying – unless he knew so wasn't the case. He sat in the far back with a whiskey and looked around the room. He noticed the young blond at once, but ignored her.

Damon sipped his whiskey slowly, looking at her a she ran from table to table, taking orders from everybody and not once stopping to think of herself. She took order after order, and then finally she stopped by his table. She apologized for being late and not paying attention to him sooner – she was scrambling to get a grip of the crowded room and he felt for her.

Maybe the first person he had ever felt for.

"So, what can I get you?" she finally asked. When she looked up he couldn't help but smile at her.

"Another one of these," he said, shaking his glass of whiskey.

"Sure. Anything else?"

He shook his head.

He sat there for another few hours, watching the bar clear out a few times, listening to the music. Finally she seemed to have a moment to herself. She pulled a broom out from a cupboard and then a mop, followed by a bucket. She walked over to the jukebox and smiled over at him. "You've been sitting there all day," she noted, her voice soft. "What are you hiding from?" She squinted into the shadows, and he smiled at her.

"Nothing much, life. You know."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with it," she mumbled bitterly and put money in the jukebox. "The days when my mom go out of town are always the one's when it gets busy, busy, busy..."

"I bet." He got up from his chair, suddenly leaning against the bar with a crooked smile, directed at her. "I'm Damon."

"Good for you."

"Nice to meet ya."

"You too, Damon." She made a point of his name as well as not telling him hers, and it made him like her even more.

"You sure slave away around here," he pointed out. "How long have you been working here?"

"A few years," she said, sweeping the floor in a fluid motion that mae her body dance. Damn!

"Why?"

"To help my mom out," she said simply. Like anyone would have done the same thing. "And, well, I kinda like it. I take the poker players for money and I'm saving up..."

"To do what?"

"If I told you," she smiled up at him, not really looking up from the floor. "I'd have to kill you."

"That might be a lot easier than you might think," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?" she said, not really listening to him. He took the opportunity to move closer and breathe her in for a moment. She was so close he could feel the heat roll off of her body, could see all the flaws in her complexion, the green in her eyes, the gold in her hair...

"Would you like to dance?" he whispered. She was startled and almost dropped the broom, looking up at him she almost smiled. He caught the broom just before it left her hand, his hand overlapping hers.

"Well?"

She nodded mutely. He put the broom away, and walked over to the jukebox to put a song on. It had been a favorite of his, back in its day. Can't fight the feeling, by Speedwagon. He loved it. And, he'd noted her putting it on twice, to he guessed she liked it too. She smiled at him as he turned to her. "Let's dance," he smiled, and took her in his arms.