I have Fisk speaking a bit more in this chapter and I'm not sure what the best way to emphasize his pauses would be, so at the moment I have commas all in his dialogue - so when you see his dialogue and the random commas, those are his pauses as I hear them in my head. Also if anyone has a better idea for how to execute his manner of speech, I am wide open for suggestions.

Wesley looked down his nose at the woman who opened the door; her yellow uniform wrinkled, her dark hair piled in a haphazard bun, her black makeup smudged beneath her eyes probably left over from the previous night making her already obvious bruises more apparent. Her disheveled appearance suited the rundown apartment; the wall paint chipped and stained, the concrete stairwell chipped and cracking and stained, her door chipped and stained. It was a shithole that smelled like piss and garbage, drugs and poverty. He felt the need to bathe just from standing there. "Noreen," he greeted with a forced smile.

His smile jogged her memory, or rather his grimace cause he had a habit of looking like he'd smelled something bad. Fisk didn't bring him often, not that she could blame him, but she recognized that arrogant tone of voice and smug face. "Wesley." She didn't know if that was his first or last name and he certainly didn't care for her to know which. "You wanna come in?"

"That's not necessary," he answered too quickly. It didn't matter that the smell coming from her apartment was of flowers and candles, or that the small glimpse he had of the inside looked clean if not small and cluttered; Fisk hadn't told him to go inside, only to be nice.

Her half pleasant face smoothed into one of offense and irritation, remembering very clearly the time she'd given him a glass of water and the several minutes he'd sat staring at the glass in distaste. "D'you want something, cause I can't imagine you driving me anywhere?"

"No," he agreed fixing his glasses on his face. "I'm here on behalf of our mutual friend he,"

"You're here cause of Mr. Fisk," she clarified.

His teeth ground at her interruption, the muscles in his jaw working but otherwise his face remained stoic as he swallowed. He loathed her knowing Fisk's name, an unimportant civilian who offered nothing; it was all he could do to form another smile, obeying Fisk's command to be nice. "Yes," he stated simply before continuing what she'd interrupted. "He saw it fit to amend your current plight."

She waited for him to say more, to do something other stare at her with that infuriating smirk that made her want to punch his stupidly cute face. She'd never given much thought to what a bug felt like moments before it was squashed by a shoe, but she thought of it then and she figured it felt pretty much the same way she felt under his stare. "You mean, like, giving me a full time driver?"

He stared down at her blinking silently before he took a sharp breath and answered. "No, not like giving you a full time driver. Consider it a gift."

Nory stared down at the keys he maneuvered into her hand stupefied. She wouldn't have accepted the offer of a driver but at least it was reasonable. But a car. "I can't accept this," she said extending her arm to hand them back.

It was the first time his prideful smile faltered as his brows drew together confused. "You can't afford a new car," he corrected, "you can accept this."

But she shook her head and tucked the keys in his suit pocket. "A car's not a gift, it's too much, I can't take it," she told him not even considering it. She didn't take charity, it might not have been Fisk's intention but he'd sidled Wesley with giving it to her and she wasn't taking anything from this glasses wearing shit face.

"Noreen, consider what you're being offered; you make ten dollars an hour working double shifts almost everyday of the week just to make rent. It'll be over a year before you can pay to fix your car, which," he said raising a hand to solidify his argument, "will break down not even a year after that and you'll be left where you are now saving up to buy a new car because the one you currently own will no longer be salvageable. Save yourself the hassle and take the car, I had it registered in your name this morning, it was paid for in full – you owe nothing." He took the set of keys out of his pocket again and handed them to her, only now her arms were crossed and she wasn't budging.

She didn't know if he had any idea how patronizing he sounded, slowing his words down as if she was a bad tempered child, but it was all she could manage not to slam the door in his face – he was Mr. Fisk's assistant, she'd at least try to be amicable. Except what she said, complete with a hip-cocked attitude was; "I don't know what you think you know about me but I'm not interested in being your charity case and I don't take freebies."

Wesley took his glasses off and inspected their lenses, blew dust off them, before righting them back on his face and looking down at the infuriating woman he so wished would take a wrong step so Fisk would forget about her. "Noreen Olivia Lake age 26, your mother is Jessica Lake died when you were twelve, you were raised by your aunt as your father is unnamed. You attended Harlem Renaissance High School for two years before dropping out at the beginning of your junior year and then started working at the local McDonald's – an early start to the rest of your career, I take it," he said with a grin. "You've had the police called on you at least three times, all of which were domestic, Wade Tilley was arrested, and you refused to press charges. Given that, misfortunate, part of your past I think it's safe to say he's why you moved here after Aunt Margie died – my condolences," he added, pride entering his already hard eyes as he stared at her shocked face. "I do know you. What I haven't quite figured out is why he insists on concerning himself with you; and make no mistake Noreen he is concerned, especially after your unfortunate attack." He made a show of looking at her cheek, then her clenched jaw, then back to her eyes. "Knowing you have the means to transport yourself from point A to point B would ease his mind."
Wesley thought several things of her in that initial meeting, she was young and head strong, she knew nothing of the man Fisk was either physically or visionary, and she was annoyingly stubborn. A charity case, as though her labor was anything more than service; she scraped the bottom of the barrel, a stepping stone. Only Fisk had decided she was some pillar of goodness and now Wesley was at her doorstep having to ask her to take a car he'd spent a majority of the morning signing into her name. He thought by then she'd relent and accept the car, that she was easily persuadable by money when it was so obvious she needed it. He was honestly surprised she hadn't taken the offer already.

"If Mr. Fisk wants to talk more about the car I'll probably lock up at eleven, but I'm done talking to you Wesley and it really wasn't a pleasure seein you again."

With that she closed and locked the door, leaving him standing with his brows raised in mild surprise as he looked at the chipped brown paint, as she continued getting ready for work.

She half expected him to be there when she opened the door to leave, to try forcing the car on her again or offering a ride cause Fisk wouldn't want her walking. But he was gone, at least she thought he was; she didn't consider he'd be in the back of a car watching her as she began walking, holding a phone to his ear listening to Fisk's displeased voice because Nory Lake did no wrong therefore Wesley was at fault. "I understand, sir," Wesley said biting his tongue. "I'll make sure she gets to the diner safely."

…

Nory had finished wiping down the tables and was flipping the chairs to set them on the tables so she could mop when a dark car pulled to the curb outside. Looking down at her watch she saw it was a quarter to eleven and she sighed having hoped he would've been busy and saved the conversation for later, or maybe forgot about it all together. After ten minutes she was double checking the oven and flat tops, making sure everything had been turned off, before she shut off the lights and locked the door behind her; not knowing Wesley had spent those ten minutes irritated at her audacity to make them wait.

"Good evening, Nory," Fisk said politely standing beside the car as she stopped in front of him.

"Hey Mr. Fisk," she said scuffing her shoe on the sidewalk. "I take it Wesley told you."

Fisk gave a short nod without looking at her. "I had hoped you would like it," he said not understanding why she hadn't, and yet not knowing whether to be angry or upset – or if those were one and the same.

"I did," she assured him seeing the sad face he sometimes made that just broke her heart, only now she'd been the one to frame it on his face. "Well, I mean, I didn't see the car but the thought was so generous and the fact that you care so much about me; it's just," she thought of how to explain it without sounding ungrateful, which she was feeling and had been since Wesley said he'd spent the morning making sure it was hers. "I haven't done anything," she finally said lamely, giving him a small apologetic smile when he looked at her.

This was something he understood, he didn't agree with it but he at least knew from where her refusal spawned. "You don't think you deserve it," he said wondering who had convinced her she was worthless.

She looked down at herself, at her pale yellow uniform and the small ketchup stain on her hip from a kid during the dinner crowd. "No," she told him simply with such stark honesty he almost winced. "My crowning achievement in life is serving people food well, and not even really well cause I get to talking and other people have to wait. I'm not really anyone."

Fisk stared at the ground shaking his head, hearing so much of Wesley's feelings toward her in her own words – and knowing she truly believed it. "It saddens me," he said without looking up, "that you will never, see, yourself as I do."

"Mr. Fisk," she breathed quietly, seeing he was honestly upset.

"You," he continued as though he hadn't heard her, "remind me why I fight for this city, to clean the filth from these streets, so that people such as yourself may safely make Hell's Kitchen your home. You are, a light, in this darkness, and you deserve more than I can give you."

Nory stood in stupefied awe wondering what exactly Fisk saw when he looked at her cause she'd never seen what he had – she never thought it possible. He'd stuttered in the way he spoke, not his words but the speed in which he'd said them, and it was so clear in his pained face how hard all that had been for him to say. She honestly just wanted to throw her arms around his middle.

"I will not persuade you to, take the car, if you do not wish for it. But, I can offer you a ride," he said motioning to the black SUV behind him.

She gave him a small, if not shaky, smile and nodded. "I can at least accept that," she said seeing his own grin though it was misshapen and quickly slipped from his mouth. He held the door open for her and slid into the backseat and found herself beside Wesley.

"Evening Noreen," he said watching her nose wrinkle at the use of her full name. For the first time in the months Fisk had known this woman Wesley was finally starting to see where his fondness for her came from – he didn't at all agree with it, he'd just as soon push her out of the moving vehicle than speak to her again, but he at least understood.

Fisk sat across from the two, seeing Wesley's previous smile melt from his face the moment he turned away from Nory. "I hope Wesley was polite, this morning," he said knowing the other man more than likely hadn't been.

Nory stole a quick glance at the man in question, who Fisk was also staring at, to see Wesley swallow as he folded his hands – she might not've known much about Fisk but she knew discomfort when she saw it. "Bout as polite as you could expect," she said causing both men to turn to her questioningly. "I did kind of waste all his time this morning, and then rubbed it in his face by sayin no."

Fisk nodded pleased at her words, knowing she'd lied yet again to him – and again he didn't mind for the good intent behind it. Wesley though, he stared at the half lit side of her face a moment longer wondering why she had lied; he'd given no illusion to deserving it and she was staring out the window without the appearance of holding it over him. It didn't make sense no matter what way he looked at it, save Fisk's common use of the word kind in relation to her.

Without her having said anything the driver stopped in front of her complex and something in her wasn't the least bit surprised, at least not that night. Fisk climbed out of the car and she turned to Wesley, a thought clear in her head; "I didn't get you in trouble, did I?" she asked quickly.

His brow twitched as he shook his head. "I would say you got me out of it," he told her, knowing Fisk would've reprimanded him the moment Nory left, except she'd spoken for him alleviating Fisk's disappointment in him.

Nory nodded and scooted closer to the door where Fisk stood with his hand held to help her out. "Then you're welcome asshole," she said before taking Fisk's hand and climbing out of the car.