Author's note: So, it took me an extra week to get this done, but with the holiday everything got really busy. Anyway, I hope that you guys like this chapter, it's a little violent at the end. I actually based Mendez's back story on a guy I used to know from work. The town Mendez is in is also based on a town in NY near where I used to live; hopefully it gives it some realism. I just hope it's not too rushed!

)0(

John couldn't believe he was here again, sitting at the same bar with Mendez, listening to his mindless banter. It wasn't that he hated Mendez, he had no reason to. Mendez had never gone out of his way to do anything against John, but it was somewhat of a sore spot thinking of he and Daya in the maintenance closet together.

John sipped on his beer tentatively, his mind racing with thoughts of Daya and of his career as a corrections officer. Mendez's voice droned inaudibly in his ears as Bennett stared at nothing in particular, his lips hooking over the opening in the bottle he was holding. He should have been stronger, he shouldn't have allowed all this to happen. It had seemed an eye blink, but somehow they had gone from casual friends, to lovers, to parents with no pause for rest. Do I even really know her? He asked himself, almost refusing to even listen to the answer. It was a very real possibility that he didn't. How much had they really talked? He knew she liked drawing, he knew that she was a caring girl, and he knew that she was a beautiful woman. He wracked his brain for something more, but there was nothing. No, he had to believe that there was more to it than that, that there was some kind of deep connection only they shared.

"Earth to Bennett!" Mendez shook John's shoulder pulling him out of his thoughts and back into that bar.

"S-sorry…" John stammered, "I just spaced out for…"

"No kidding." Mendez frowned at his friend, "Did you hear a word I said?"

"Uh…"Bennett tried his best to think of something he had picked out of the monotonous buzzing that Mendez had produced in his ear.

"Listen, I'm talking about Daya!" Mendez voice changed audibly at the mere mention of her name, his face was brighter.

John Bennett himself just frowned. Yes, he thought there had to be something special between he and Daya, but so did this poor sap Mendez. Bennett knew for a fact that he was wrong on that count, Daya had said as much in non-negotiable terms. Where did that leave Bennett? Was all of it just an illusion brought into being by hormones? Did he truly love Daya, and did she truly love him? Thinking about it now John wondered how many options did Dayanara really have for love in prison? Was he just a necessity to her? Maybe she just didn't want to be alone. That scared him.

"She's so adorable." Mendez was saying, "Did I tell you I saw her this afternoon?"

John's head turn quick as a whip lashing, "What?"

"I went to the prison yard. Like I thought, there were no guards serious enough about their jobs to patrol the perimeter. Without me there that place is sunk." Mendez had a ring of pride in his voice.

"You saw her?" John could hardly believe that George had risked his job again to visit the Litchfield prison yard.

"Yea." George grinned stupidly, resting his chin on the neck of his beer, "She was so shy about it. She told me I shouldn't make our relationship public for now."

"P-pub.." John couldn't even finish the thought.

Suddenly his mind began racing anew, why had she said such a thing? Why, after adamantly denying any romantic attachment to him, had she strung Mendez along? Why hadn't she just told him that she didn't love him? John felt a sinking in his gut. He felt for the first time like he was being played and he didn't like it.

"She even gave me a kiss, it was pure heaven." Mendez added, "We didn't do much kissing when I was still at the prison, curse of being such a sexual dynamo I guess. She couldn't wait for me to…"

John grimaced. This was all too much for him, and he didn't want to hear anymore. He stood up.

"What's up man?" Mendez looked up shocked at John who was feverishly removing his wallet from his pocket.

"I…just remembered, I have to do something…" John threw some money down on the table, more then he really needed to, and walked out of the bar without another word.

"Hmm." Mendez turned back to the bar, "Oh well."

George began chatting up the bartender as he ordered another drink. Outside it had begun snowing, heavy snowflakes fell in chunks down onto the parking lot and on top of the windshields of cars in the parking lot. A treacherous ride home, just what John Bennett was looking forward to.

He climbed into his truck and pulled out a cigarette. He had not had one in months, but he suddenly needed one. It was a bit beat up but he lighted it and puffed it up just the same. He started the truck and pulled the window down sending a newly fallen drift of show into his window. Ignoring it, he sat there for a while puffing and thinking.

Finally he pulled away.

)0(

It was rare that Daya was up this early, but she just couldn't sleep. Something inside her was telling her she needed to be awake. Maybe it was the growing life inside her, and maybe it was something else, she couldn't really say.

Daya had gathered her shower supplies and a dingy looking towel and was walking to her designated shower room. It was chilly in the halls and she knew she'd be cold when it came time to get out of the shower. Still, there was nothing else to do and it was loads better than waiting in line for a shower.

When she got there she got undressed and got in, the hot water felt great in between bursts of bitter cold that came in through the curtains. When she had finished she turned off the water, flesh immediately sprouting goose bumps. Wrapping tightly in a towel she walked out to the mirrors where she got ready. When she was dressed and ready for the day she walked silently towards her "room".

Looking down at the floor she walked slow, not really knowing what she would do when she got back. There was no rushing in prison, it didn't make any sense to rush.

"Oof!" She ran head first into something hard but fleshy.

She looked up slowly, above her was John Bennett. His face was soft at first, eyes wide, but his expression hardened.

"Diaz." He acknowledged her.

"Why are you being like that?" She asked sadly, "I said I was sorry, I don't know what else…"

"Save it." He shrugged her off and began walking down the all but empty hallways.

"What do you mean "save it"?" Both anger and panic showed in her voice, "John…"

He swung around, his index finger jutting straight at her face. She could see his anger, bubbling over like a pot. His eyes looked like pools of lava were behind them.

"I trusted you Daya, but I know what you've been doing. To my face it's "Oh baby, I'm sorry!" but then I hear what I heard last night. You're being really shady and I don't like it."

"Shady!?" Dayanara was indignant, "I am NOT being shady. I have told you the truth, I told you right away what happened so for you to say that. It's…It's just messed up!"

"What about Mendez? You wanted to hide your relationship with him as of yesterday." John looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

Momentarily she stood confused and rooted to the spot, What is he talking about? Then it occurred to her, he must've seen "Pornstache" last night. It was a misunderstanding!

"John, I just told him that! It has nothing to do with my feelings!"

Bennett looked like he wanted to rip his hair out.

"Why are you so upset!?"

"Why would you lead him on, knowing that he's in love with you!?"

"Pornstache"? Daya almost scoffed, "He's not."

"He is!" John hissed, "Any idiot can see that!"

"Look, Mendez is crazy; he was saying something about going to the press about our "relationship". I got scared."

"What?" She could see the confusion and disbelief in his eyes.

"He was saying that the people would be on our side an' shit. I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about! I didn't want him to tell anyone. If I told him I'm not interested now I have no idea what he'll do!"

"I don't know Daya…" And it looked like John Bennett really didn't know.

Daya brought her hand up to his jaw, rubbing her thumb against the bone. She searched his eyes and he looked back dejected and unsure.

"I promise you it's nothing shady. I really just don't know what to do."

John sighed in frustration and dejectedness. He embraced her gently, his chin resting on her forehead. After several moments pressed against him he pulled her back.

"Ok. Well try to stay away from him." His tone was one of warning, "He doesn't need to be lead on anymore."

"O-okay." She replied, not sure what more to say.

"I have to go." He patted her shoulder and began to walk away.

"Wait." Daya didn't want him to go, not yet.

"Yea?" He seemed less cold, but she could tell he was still trying to distance himself.

"I-I just miss you." Daya stammered.

"I miss you too." He had hesitated, but he had said it.

Bennett walked away again, but this time Daya was satisfied.

)0(

Mendez's eyes narrowed as he stared across the street at the jeweler's store front window, he was psyching himself up to walk inside. Perched on the seat of his old beat up Mustang he watched as people milled around the town center. Mendez scowled. He was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been in his life; he was picking out a ring for "the one". He thought suddenly of his mother who through long cigarette puffs had said to him once, "When ya find that one pun'kin, make sure she isn't a slut." Mendez loved his mother deeply. She was a teacher once, now she was disabled. She and his tiny be-speckled father lived alone in their huge and extremely cluttered house, his childhood home. He doted on his mother, but she had very little patience for him. He hardly noticed though, she was an ideal woman. Brains and beauty (at one point anyway), she was the whole package.

George could only hope that Daya was an exemplary lady just like his mother. She had to be. He saw visions of her holding children, and cooking, and doting on him. It didn't matter to him that she had gone to prison, and he didn't even care why, she was meant to be free and in his arms.

He smiled, pulling on the door handle to step out of the car only to relinquish it again and tilt the seat back so he was in a lying down position. He threw a long skinny arm over his forehead and closed his eyes. He was so nervous; he just needed some way to calm himself down. Going to get an engagement ring was not something you did every day. He sighed to himself slumping further backwards in his seat, if that was even possible. Then he heard something through the slightly ajar car window that made him perk. He sat up slightly and scanned the area around his car.

The unmistakable clicking of hooker heels on pavement could be heard, and soon she was in sight. Her weathered lips puffing on a lipstick stained cigarette. She was older, probably in her early forties, but her face was still older and leathery from hard living. Her make-up was gaudy and smudged in places.

Suddenly Mendez knew how he could calm himself down. He grinned a little and stepped out of the car, slamming the door and following after her. Almost instantly she glanced back at him, but kept walking.

"Hey!" George called to her, his grin widening.

The prostitute stopped and turned. In a voice that sounded like a frog's croak she asked, "What?"

Her cold breath made puffs of white in the air but despite the temperature she wore fishnets and a short pleather skirt. She also wore a gaudy looking purple fur coat, but it had so many cigarette burns and holes in it that it couldn't have been very warm.

"I think you know." Mendez licked his lips for show.

"A'right." She replied, "Come with me."

The prostitute lead Mendez to an alleyway, blocked from the view of the street by dumpsters. She crouched down pulling another cigarette out of her bag and lighting it. She didn't look up as she rattled of several prices and what they got you.

Mendez however had absolutely no intention of having sex or anything near it with this woman. She, frankly, disgusted him but it was not her looks that would lead to the following chain of events. In fact, any prostitute or whorey looking woman he saw that day would've been fair game. Especially in this town, which was void of law enforcement and was populated by low-lives and Hasidic jews only. No one cared for these people, and Mendez was fully aware of that fact.

"So, what'ill it be mister? I ain' got all day."

"Oh, got something to do?" He asked circling her like a shark, almost giggling with glee.

"Yea, but I don' see why that's anyah bus'ness." She was still crouched and looking up at him now, "Somethin' wrong wit ya?"

"See, thing is, it is my business." Mendez chuckled, "I'm a tax payer and my money goes to keep shit like you off the street."

This lady of the night was having none of this. She zipped her bag and stood, starting to step out towards the street. She wasn't a naïve baby, she had been working this town for years. Something about this young man and his evil looking smile was not adding up.

"Whateva, If you ain' payin' I'm get'n the hell outta…"

"I'm afraid not."

Mendez's hard steel toed boots struck the woman in the face, teeth and blood flew from her open mouth and onto the dirty pavement where she soon followed. Her body hit the ground with a loud thud and she rolled and writhed where she fell, tears beginning to stick to her withered cheeks.

"You bas'tad." She managed to shout between pained cries.

Mendez kicked her in the stomach next eliciting more wails of excruciating pain. Her hands began to wildly paw at her coat pocket where a metallic looking object peeked. A knife, thought Mendez, stepping on her hand and pulling it from its hiding place.

"Have to be careful with these lady." He threw it across the alley like it was a toy.

George continued to beat her until she was nearly dead. He could hear her labored breathing through shattered teeth and caking blood.
"Oops." He looked her over, "Looks like I went a little far."

His boots and pant legs had a bit of blood on them but nothing very noticeable. He wasn't worried about that. He was relieved, the anxiousness was gone.

"You'll be alright bitch." He called to her over his shoulder

as he made his way out of the alley and across the street to the little jewelry store that was planted there.

Once inside he looked at all the engagement rings several times. The shop keeper watched him over an unfolded newspaper for a while, sizing him up. Figuring he wasn't there to rob him, he finally sat up in his chair and refolded the paper.

"How can I help you today sir?"

The sir was forced, but George paid it no mind. He instead leaned in towards the glass and pointed at a gaudy looking band set with a princess cut diamond.

"Can I take a look at that one?"

"Sure" The clerk shuffled around and picked up a set of keys.

The case was opened and the ring plucked out and given to him. Mendez turned it around in his fingers, and nodded.

"I'll take that one." He said handing it back to the man.

"Oh. Alright. Do you need us to size this for you?"

"I'm not sure her size; I'll have to have it adjusted later." Mendez shrugged, looking the shop over as the clerk boxed up the ring.

After the purchasing spiel was through Mendez took the ring outside, broad grin on his face. He had done what he set out to do.

Red and blue lights flashed outside, and a mob of people were talking. Mendez passed close to them, unsure whether he should hit the pavement or not. He listened to an emaciated man on a flip cellphone as he talked to someone on the other end.

"That prostitute, yea, the one with the purple coat! She always is hanging around Benny's. Yea, they found her all beat up in the alley! It's fucked up. Yeah. No, no one saw - yea they're taking her in an ambulance."

Mendez put his hands in his jacket pocket and slunk back to his car, he was sure no one had seen him.

"Time to go." He said softly to himself.