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I hope you all are enjoying this story so far. I do know that it isn't exactly fast moving at this point, but I really want things to develop naturally between my characters. I hope this doesn't bother any of you too much. I promise that there will be lots of excitement, romance, ad darkness as the story progresses, just not yet. Thanks!

Chapter Three – Face Down

Hey girl, you know, you drive me crazy, One look puts the rhythm in my hand, Still I'll never understand why you hang around, I see what's goin' down
Cover up with make up in the mirror, Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again, You cry alone and then he swears he loves you

- Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Jack walked into the diner and sat at his usual booth. It seemed that it was always vacant, and he could only assume it was because it only had a seat on one side and it wasn't really wide enough for two people. It worked wonderfully for him, and he was glad that no one else seemed to want it. He glanced down at the menu, though he was already settled on what he wanted, he felt compelled to look at the menu nonetheless. He saw black pants coming his way and looked up with a small smile playing across his maimed features. The smile immediately left his face when he saw that the woman walking toward him was not his usual waitress. This girl was younger, with blonde hair cut in a pixie style, and way too much makeup. She approached him with a look of faint disquiet on her heart-shaped face.

"Good evening, sir. My name is Suzette. What can I get for you?"

Jack had to suppress a snarl of annoyance at the timid way she spoke to him. He could see her eyes shifting to his face and then away rapidly and found his temper rising with each passing second. He considered just getting up and walking out, but he was hungry and hadn't purchased provisions to feed himself with for the night. It really would be more trouble than it was worth to leave at that point, so he swallowed his anger, and tried to speak calmly to the girl. "You can get the other waitress that works this section." He looked around the diner swiftly, trying to spot the woman that he wanted, his tongue slipping out to nervously lick his lower lip. "Where is she tonight?"

The small blonde screwed up her face and looked as if she was thinking very hard about something, then giggled anxiously before answering him. "Lynn has the night off. I work Thursdays for her." She smiled slightly at him, "She'll be back tomorrow night, but I can take care of you tonight." Somehow her fearful demeanor was instantly replaced by a flirtatious one, and Jack had to choke back the feeling of disgust he had in his throat. He knew that she was no more attracted to him than she would be to a corpse, but still she tried to act like she was in order to garner a chunk of his money. She was exactly the type of woman that he liked to avoid. He didn't mind whores, because at least they were honest about what they were doing, but women that only teased and pretended made him crazy.

Still, he had to eat and he was already there. He figured if he was surly enough she would leave him alone. "I want the meatloaf and a black coffee. Hurry it up, I'm hungry." He practically barked his order at her, changing his meal choice to see what she would say. The other woman had made it obvious that the meatloaf was not something that should be ordered, which had most definitely piqued his interest.

The new girl didn't even bat an eyelash at his request. In fact, she smiled a toothy grin down at him and told him, "That's a great choice, sir. I'll get your order in right away." He wouldn't be surprised if she spit in his food.

He was also unsurprised when it took over five minutes for him to get his coffee, and almost half an hour for his meal to arrive. The waitress was always full of smiles when she would come to the table, but she only stopped at his side when it was absolutely necessary. The food was cold, and even if it had been hot it would have been nearly inedible. He could only count himself lucky that he was used to lousy food. If that hadn't been the case, his meal would have been a real disappointment, As it was he actually was pretty pleased, it just proved that the other woman had indeed been looking out for him.

When the blonde girl brought his cheque she actually had the audacity to touch his shoulder and call him "love". He decided that for her repulsive act of attraction to him and her lousy service she deserved no tip, so he left exact change on the table and walked out into the cold night.


Madeline stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to cover up her husbands latest work. It wouldn't be the first time that she would be forced to go to work with a puffy and discolored face, and she doubted that it would be the last time, but that didn't diminish the displeasure she felt at the prospect. She had at least been able to cover the bruise on her neck with a jaunty red and green scarf that worked with the upcoming holiday season, but she didn't think her boss would be pleased if she decided to wear a veil for the weekend. That left her to attempt to cover the swollen and purple flesh with makeup, something that she knew would be pointless. Afterall, she was an expert, having been trying for the last six years. She knew that in a few more days when the swelling was completely gone and the dark shades had faded to yellow, then it would be easy. Until then, she would just have to live with it.

With a sigh she pulled her long hair into a ponytail high on her head, and applied a bright lipstick. Though it did little to distract from her husbands handy work, it did make Madeline feel better in a way. She had full, luscious lips, and though she typically only wore a light gloss, whenever she put the red lipstick on it made her feel more powerful. She had a feeling that she would be in need of power tonight.

She glanced down at her uniform, pulling a long, brown hair off of her slacks, and then walked out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit living room. Rob was in the kitchen with one of his friends, Mitch, drinking beer and discussing the finer points of the latest Rogues game. She could hear that they had a new quarterback and Rob was arguing that it would bring them glory. She shook her head, Gotham hadn't won more than one game a season in years, and she doubted that was going to change any time soon.

She walked into the kitchen and bent down to give Rob a peck on the cheek as a farewell. "Bye, babe."

He grabbed her chin, squeezing the already sore and bruised skin. "Where do you think you're going?"

"It's Friday, baby. I gotta go to work." She tried to sound cheerful, but it was hard with him holding her the way he was.

"So it is." He nodded and roughly released her chin. "Well, you remember what we talked about. I don't want you slutting around." He grabbed her scarf, pulling her back down and planting a sloppy kiss on her red lips. "And babe?" He gave the scarf a savage jerk, making her almost squeak in surprise and pain. "Take this fucking thing off. People should see that you're mine, and that you've been disciplined for your bad behaviour."

She shrugged and untied the fabric, dropping it on the table in front of him. "OK, baby. See you in a few hours."

She grabbed her keys and walked out the front door, noticing that the sky was filled with snow heavy clouds. It was warmer than it had been the night before, the clouds overhead holding in the little bit of warmth the day had brought, but she knew that if it started to snow before she got home it would make for a very unpleasant walk.

She made it to the diner a few minutes before her shift would start and was surprised to see that Suzette was working her section instead of Jenny. Madeline didn't particularly like the young blonde, even though she was a perfectly good waitress. Her only reason for disliking the girl was the fact that she had once overheard her telling Jeff - the only male server at the diner - how ugly Lynn always looked with her bruises, and that if she was going to walk around looking like that she shouldn't be doing it in front of people that were trying to eat. Madeline hid her dislike well however, when she walked over to the petite waitress and smilingly took the order pad from her outstretched palm.

"Hey girl. How's it going tonight? It looks a little slow." She waved her arm at the many empty seats and then fastened her short apron at her waist.

"Yeah, its been pretty quiet tonight. It was hopping last night though." Suzette started to turn away, and then she abruptly faced her again. "Oh yeah, some weird guy asked for you last night."

Madeline frowned, the expression tugging at her sore cheek. "Weirder than the usual dregs that come in here?"

"Definitely. This guy was heeby jeeby weird, and he was a total jerk. Didn't leave me a tip even though I flirted with the ugly freak." Her lips were pouty, and she looked very annoyed by that little fact, but Madeline felt like laughing. She knew that Suzete liked to lay it on thick, and if the guy was who she thought it was, it didn't surprise her one bit that he hadn't liked it. He didn't strike her as the type to buy into the fake young woman.

"Well thanks for the warning hon', I'll keep my eyes open for him." She gave the girl a little pat to send her on her way and headed to her section to start the long night ahead.


Jack was later than usual getting to the diner and it was only an hour before closing when he walked in, escaping the light snow that was falling outside. He had spent most of the evening seeking gainful employment. Well, perhaps not gainful, but the kind of employment that he was suited for. It was mainly just something to get him started in the the city, something to get a name for himself. Though he felt it was almost a waste of his skills to spend his time as a thug for a small time bookie, he didn't really mind. After all, it would feel good to get a little blood on his shoes and some extra cash in his pocket.

He shook the snow out of his hair and stamped his boots to clear the slush off of them, before he made his way to the empty booth that beckoned to him. He sat down and absently twiddled the butter knife in his hands, anxiously waiting for the waitress to come. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was slightly nervous that the dumb blond would turn up again, instead of the no-nonsense girl that he had grown fond of.

His fears were laid to rest almost immediately, when he saw her pouring a cup of coffee on the other side of the counter. Though her back was to him, he knew it was her from the way her uniform clung slightly to her hips and the swing of the pony tail that hung from her head. He released a breath he hadn't known he was holding and set the knife back in place on the paper placemat. He glanced down at the menu, his tongue flicking out and caressing the scars at the corner of his mouth. It was a habit that no matter how hard he had tried to stop, he always fell back into it. In a way they seemed like a safety blanket to him, even if they were far from warm and fuzzy.

He looked up when a pale hand placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. "You looked cold, so I thought you would want this right away." She sounded tired, but he could hear the smile in her voice before he saw it on her face. Actually, he never noticed the smile on her face, because his eyes stopped on the raised purple flesh of her cheek. He was able to clearly see three individual knuckle imprints that were a deeper shade than the overall bruise, and he was quick to see the other discolorations on her face and neck as well. Her chin was only faintly bruised and he couldn't see the exact shape of fingers on it, but he could visualize the meaty hand that must have gripped her. Her neck was almost as dark as her cheek, and it was clearly a large hand that had done that as well.

His eyes narrowed in anger and his tongue ran over his lower lip in a rapid dance of irritation. "Purple isn't your color, doll."

The smile that he had never noticed fell from her face and was briefly replaced by hurt. That almost instantly died away, and he saw her eyes narrow dangerously. "I'll keep that in mind. Now what are you eating."

He wasn't interested in food anymore, in spite of the fact that he had been ravenous just seconds before. Now he wanted to know who had done that to the only waitress he could even begin to tolerate. He had no problem with violence, and even murder, but he had no patience for men that hit on their wives. He had seen enough of that to last several lifetimes and wasn't interested in seeing any more. His hand waved up at her face, clutching the butter knife again. "Who did that, doll?"

She looked at him and sighed with exasperation. "That's not really your concern, now is it?" Her eyes fell on the knife that he had begun flipping absently in his hand. "Put that down, would you? Now what are you going to order? They're closing the kitchen early tonight since its slow, and I need to get your order in if you want to eat."

He looked at her for a minute and put the knife down. "The coffee is all I want now." She started to turn away from him and he reached up, gently catching her arm in his hand. She spun back at him, her eyes dark. "I wasn't done, doll. I want the name of the guy that did that."

The rage left her eyes, and he saw that beneath it there was nothing but fatigue and defeat. "Sorry, but that isn't on the menu tonight." She pulled away from him, but did it slowly, almost like she didn't want to. "I have to get to my other tables."

He sat watching the dark haired waitress and nursing his coffee for the next hour. He knew she could tell that he was staring, but he didn't really care. He had never been very good with the regular social graces that seemed to come naturally to those around him. He was surprised to note that she didn't seem bothered by his constant stare, and she didn't even comment on it when she would come to fill his mug.

As closing time got closer and the few people that had been in her section started to file out she began filling the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin dispensers on the table tops. He expected her to pass him by like she had the two drunks that were sitting at a booth a few down from him, but instead she stopped.

"Can I fill those for you?" She met his eyes, and he was struck by how intensely blue her's were. They were a shade that he had never seen before, but they reminded him of glaciers he had seen in pictures. He could tell that if she was angry they would be just as cold as those massive blocks of ice, but right then they were surprisingly warm.

He waved his hand at the objects she was asking for, but never broke eye contact with her. "Be my guest." She looked away and leaned across the table to grab the shakers. Her pony tail swung down over her shoulder and missed a dunk in his coffee by less than an inch. He reached out and grabbed her hair, placing it onto her back. His fingers traced her shoulder as he pulled his hand away, and she just stood frozen under his light touch.

"Um… thanks. I'll bring these right back." She swiftly turned away from him and scampered behind the counter. He continued to watch her as she shakily filled the containers and made her way back to him. She set them on the edge of the table instead of leaning over him again, and he was almost sorry that he had touched her. Only almost though. "Well, we're closing now. You better head out, before I have to throw you out." She looked up, and gave him a faint smile.

He didn't smile back, knowing that it was a grotesque sight, but his eyes lit up at her show of camaraderie. "Well doll, I don't think you could throw me out, but I'll go all the same."

She smiled ironically at him, "OK then. Thanks." She started to walk away from him, but half turned back to look at him. "See you tomorrow?"

He stood up and walked to her side, pressing a five into her palm. "You've got yourself a date, beautiful." He turned and strode out the door before she could say anything to that.

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