A/N: and we're at chapter three! I was really floored by the number of reviews and encouragements I received, it's really helpful since I'm pretty nervous about my stories. I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing and being kind, in general :)

I'd also like to thank KatieMarrie and dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE whom I can't PM.

Really hope you enjoy the chapter.

P.S. I'd take everything Jack says with a grain of salt, if you know what I mean.

Penny blinked back a small tear that was threatening to escape her eye. Almost three hours had gone by and they were still stuck in the semi-obscurity of the overly heated elevator.

Her chest hurt from the pressure. She took steadying breaths from time to time, but nothing was really helping her. She couldn't swallow the water. It felt like drinking sand. She couldn't stand still anymore either. She was all jittery. Everything was making her nervous.

Everything, except Jack.

True, she thought he was a weirdo, but so far, he'd been a harmless weirdo.

He was trying to lighten up the mood in his typical way.

"Two more hours and I'll have missed American Idol. I'm rooting for that Kimberley chick, the one with the buckteeth. Everyone's in love with Dwayne, but I like an underdog."

Penny had given up on trying to shut him up, because even if she didn't like to admit it, his silly ramblings made it easier to bear her current predicament.

"I've always wondered what I'd do on national television. Everyone goes in trying to impress the public, make a good first impression. Me, I'd sit there quietly, like some dumb fuck who can't read. Matter of fact, I'd tell them I can't read. I'd tell them my mother never let me go to school. That's it. That's all I'd have to say. And just you watch, I'd become America's sweetheart in the blink of an eye. Poor kid who never got a break, who was deprived of "man's basic human right to education". I'd probably get a check for one hundred thousand dollars or something. To pay for some liberal arts college. And I can't even read!"

Penny was pacing back and forth, hardly listening.

She held her arms folded to her chest and went over everything she had done so far and could further do to alleviate the situation.

"Wait...you can't read?" she asked, pausing.

Jack chuckled. "I guess I can. But if I were on national television..."

Penny shook her head, already lost in her own thoughts again. His voice was akin to the buzz of the neon light.

Jack frowned, watching her pace mechanically. She moved her fingers rhythmically, counting down an invisible list of items in her head.

"What're you doing?" he asked, rolling his head against the wall. He was sitting down, hands in his lap, the picture of a scolded child who'd been sent to the corner.

She held one tightly-clenched fist to her mouth in deep thought as she kept counting down with her other hand.

"I'm gonna get dizzy from your walking," he told her, a bit louder this time.

When he saw she was still not responding, he got up gently and stood in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her.

"Moneypenny."

"Huh?"

She looked up in surprise. His hands were like an anchor, pulling down a floating ship.

"You need to sit down."

"I – I can't."

"What are you counting, anyway?"

"The doormen's schedules. At the firm. I want to figure out which one's got tomorrow morning's shift."

Jack's hands shook her shoulders lightly.

"You're only making it worse."

Penny felt a bout of nausea. His closeness was oddly perturbing. It was probably the scar, she thought. She'd never seen it this close. She stared at it freely, forgetting about the inappropriateness of her actions.

He didn't flinch. And she realized he didn't mind her staring. She'd only imagined he'd be insulted. He seemed completely comfortable about it, in fact. An irrational impulse almost made her lift her fingers to touch it. Would it feel rough or worn?

She stepped away from him, losing the warmth of his palms on her collarbone. The confinement was doing things to her head.

"It's okay. People are always curious about it," he said, guessing her line of thinking.

"I'm not – I mean it's none of my business."

"Wanna know how I got it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes searched her face, two black dots, glowing like burning coals. He could see she was curious.

Penny shook her head.

"No, I wouldn't want to pry. Besides, it's too personal."

"Well, might as well tell someone. I won't get another chance in the near future."

When he saw her alarmed expression, he quickly corrected himself.

"Not that something's gonna happen to us. We'll be fine. I know we will. But people don't listen much to me in real life."

Penny seemed in two minds about it. Jack was her only living contact at the moment. The only person who knew she was there. A forced intimacy was bound to arise.

"Come on, I'll tell you if you sit down with me."

Penny looked at the floor reluctantly. Her legs felt stiff and sore but she knew the awful feeling would not disappear if she sat down.

Jack misunderstood her apprehension.

"Ah, the lady needs a comfy seat," he said and with a fluid, catlike motion, he pulled the beige sweater over his head and put it down on the floor.

Penny felt something like a blush tinge her cheeks. She felt ridiculous. She didn't want to think of Jack as attractive, because it was only a trick of the mind. Getting stuck with someone for some time meant growing more or less attached to that person, sometimes. And she did not, under any circumstances, plan on doing that. His bare arms might have been nice to look at and his slender figure in that T-shirt was nothing to frown at, but she was above that kind of immature thinking. Especially since she'd been in the company of more attractive men without getting flustered.

"Er, thanks. You didn't have to, though."

"I insist," he said in a mock-playful tone.

Penny thought it would be rude to refuse now after he'd sacrificed his shirt.

She knelt down gingerly, pulling her feet underneath her. She felt the familiar scratchy fabric against her calves.

He plopped down next to her as gracefully as before.

"It was getting too warm anyways."

Penny knew there was half an arm's length between them, but she still felt slightly antsy. She leant her back against the wall and tried to shift further away without seeming impolite. Her hands started playing with the hem of her dress.

"So, where were we? Oh right, the scar. Well, it's not a very pretty story. Just a warning."

Penny chewed on her lip.

"I'm not a big fan of pretty stories."

Jack smiled. "You say that now..."

"Would I be living here if I were?"

"I don't know, you might be some kind of romantic, hoping to get whisked away from this place."

Penny sighed. "Either tell me, or don't."

"Patience isn't your forte, I see. Well, here we go. It was – I think it was about twenty years ago. Can't be sure about these things."

Penny stared. How could one not be sure about such things?

"I was probably ten. I remember watching Andy's Funhouse. Kaufman did comedy like no other. Mind you, he hated the term."

Penny quirked an eyebrow.

"Sorry, sorry. I get caught up in the details. My bad. So anyway, my dad came up to me one day, as I was watching Andy's Funhouse – cuz you see, I had it on tape. It was my favorite thing in the whole world. I'd gotten it as a gift from Uncle Terry. Oh, Uncle Terry was an eccentric. You'd've liked him. Right, sorry. So, my dad was in the mood for a fight. I know what you're thinking. Here's another story about some kid knocked around by a drunk bastard. Well, you'd be wrong."

He paused, letting the statement sink in. Penny waited, curiosity making her less nervous.

"He never touched alcohol. Said it was the devil's loins. He was sorta confused, my dad. Anyways, he didn't drink. He was just a bit cheesed off. Violent by nature. What? You don't think you can be violent by nature?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Penny hadn't shown any signs of disagreeing and she wasn't sure if it was just a rhetorical question.

"My pop was living proof of that," Jack continued, staring at the wall in front of him.

Penny watched the shadows play across his profile. The scar was smaller on this side. It made him look almost normal. Almost.

"But don't think I resent him or something. It was pretty interesting, living with a guy like that. You never got bored, you know? And I'd rather get surprised than bored."

Penny sat very still now, listening intently.

"Would you rather get surprised or bored?" he asked, not looking at her.

She mulled it over.

"I'd rather get bored," she answered, at length.

Jack chuckled. "You're right. If we only got bored, we wouldn't be here in the first place."

Penny didn't think there was a connection between the two, but she kept quiet. Somehow, the question had unsettled her on a deeper level.

"Ah, sorry again. The story's dragging on. I keep stalling. It's not like there's a grand climax or anything. It's just that, he saw me watching Andy's Funhouse. He didn't like that show, he didn't like laughing and singing and dancing. That was not his crowd. He got angry. He said it was trash. Old man wouldn't know satire if it hit him in the face! But here's how it happened. It was the end of the pilot and Andy Kaufman came up on screen and started talking to the audience. He read the words of wisdom for the week. I remember. They were "Whatever is unknown is magnified." They were written in magnified letters on a blank screen. Pretty damn brilliant, right? Pop didn't see it that way. He kept asking, what the hell does that mean? I tried to explain it to him but he just got angrier. He said, oh so you think you're smarter than me, huh? You think you know more than I do? You're a funny man, aren't you? Funny, funny man. I said sorry, I said it's just a dumb show. But he dragged me back to the kitchen to teach me a lesson in quality television. And I could still hear Andy Kaufman saying goodbye to the audience from the living room. He said, "don't be afraid of what you don't know, because remember, it always seems a lot worse than it really is." That's what he said. I kept hearing those words. It always seems a lot worse than it really is."

Penny waited with bated breath for him to continue. But he didn't. He turned to her with a lazy smile.

"Kind of like our own problem. We're stuck in a tiny box inside a bigger box, but it always seems a lot worse than it really is."

"What happened after that?"

"Hm?"

"After he dragged you in the kitchen."

"Oh...yeah, that. I don't remember, really. I just remember waking up in the hospital with my face covered in stitches. I looked like a goddamn mummy."

Penny blinked, mystified.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"I'm sorry. That's...that's horrible," she said, shivering. It was even more disturbing than if she had heard the full account. She was left to fill in the blanks and the image she came up with was terrifying.

"Did he – I mean, you were a minor. And he abused you. Didn't he go to jail?"

Jack frowned, as if the possibility hadn't occurred to him.

"I guess he could've gone to jail. But I never said anything. Ma didn't either. Uncle Terry talked to dad. And dad left. I don't know what Uncle Terry told the old man, but he disappeared without notice. Must've spooked him somehow. After that, Uncle Terry took care of us."

"And he's been gone ever since?"

"Pop? Yep."

"What if you run into him one day?"

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Well, you can't run into a dead man, can you?"

Penny frowned. "Oh. How did you find out...?"

Jack smiled, looking in the distance as if he were remembering a pleasant memory.

"I didn't. I just did it myself."

Penny wasn't sure what he meant. "Did what?"

"Put a pillow over his face, then a knife through the pillow," he muttered to himself quietly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," she said, inching closer almost unconsciously.

"I said I went to the hospital he was at before he died. I left the room before he kicked the bucket."

"Did he recognize you?"

Jack smiled.

"He recognized these," he said, pointing at the widened scars. "Said it was a work of art. Better than Andy's Funhouse, anyway."

Penny wrinkled her nose. "That's awful."

"Just goes to show the artistic gene runs in the family," he said, alluding to his own artistic inclinations.

"Nothing about this has any resemblance to art," she argued, shuddering.

"Well, you know, it's been a couple of years and I'm starting to see his point."

Penny was nonplussed.

"You can't be serious."

Jack smirked. "Why not? The scars single me out. I'm that drop in the ocean you see. You can't ignore me. Meanwhile, people like you barely manage to get out of the sea. I find my way better."

Penny scrunched her eyebrows. "What do you mean, people like me?"

"People without scars."

Penny was about to ask him why he thought she didn't have any scars, but she thought better of it.

"Well...that was some story."

"Told you it wouldn't be pretty. Your turn now."

Penny raised her head in alarm.

"My turn to what?"

"Your turn to tell me a story. It's only fair."

"I don't think that was the deal."

"There never was a deal," he pointed out.

"True, but I didn't make you share that story with me. You told me willingly."

"Well, I'm hoping you'll return the favor. Willingly."

Penny sighed. "Personal topics aren't my thing."

"I promise I won't ask about your folks."

Penny's features grew sterner.

"I didn't mean that. That is off-limits. I'm not discussing that with you or anyone."

Jack raised his palms defensively, a gesture she'd become familiar with.

"I know, I put my foot in it again."

Penny shrugged it off. "I don't have any stories to share."

"Now, we both know that's not true. Even today, even today had a story. What was it?"

"What makes you think there was a story?"

Jack's black eyes roamed over her figure. They seemed to linger at the round bend of her knees.

"You're dressed up for something special."

Penny hesitated. It didn't really matter if he found out about her graduation, did it?

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. I've missed it anyway."

"Missed what?"

"My graduation. I'm graduating business school."

Jack started back and whistled. "And I thought you were just heading to some fancy party. Well, congratulations."

"Thanks..." she replied morosely.

"Sorry you had to miss your big day."

"It wasn't my big day. I mean I took it more as an obligation. I'm not that torn up about it. I'm actually glad I can throw away that stupid speech..."

She winced. She'd said more than she'd intended to, yet again. She'd been letting her guard down. Not good.

"Speech?"

"It's nothing, really."

"A speech is not nothing. It's at least two paragraphs long in my experience."

Penny snorted. His jokes were terrible, but she could've laughed at anything right now.

"Wait a minute, if you're giving a speech..." he trailed off, putting two and two together.

She grimaced. "It's just business school."

Jack turned his body towards her. "Not for you it isn't. You must've given a shit about it at least once or twice."

Penny smiled wryly. "Once or twice," she agreed.

"Why don't you read it to me?"

"What?"

"Your speech. Let me hear it."

"No. Absolutely not," she replied resolutely.

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad."

"It's not that," she said, her cheeks getting red, "it's the fact that I don't feel like going through an already ridiculous formality just to please you."

Jack shook his head. "You're a stubborn one, Moneypenny. All right, let me read it, then."

"No! Why do you want to read it so much anyway?"

"I told you, I'd rather be surprised than bored."

"My speech is not for your entertainment."

"No, but I bet it'd surprise me," he replied, winking.

Penny groaned tiredly.

"You've got nothing to lose," he persisted, as innocently as possible.

She rolled her eyes and dragged the abandoned messenger bag towards her. She fished through its contents impatiently.

She didn't want to argue with him anymore and if she were perfectly honest, she would have liked a second opinion. Who better than a complete stranger?

"Here. Knock yourself out," she told him, slapping the crumpled paper a bit too forcefully on the floor between them.

Jack grabbed it hungrily. He squinted his eyes as he poured over it quickly, his face a mask of concentration.

Penny watched him idly. She'd forgotten how worried and anxious she'd been half an hour ago. She remembered the five stages of loss. She was probably somewhere between depression and acceptance.

Jack reached the end of her speech and saw her full name written at the bottom of the page.

"Penelope Liss. Hang on... Penny Liss. Your name is literally..."

"Penniless. Yeah," Penny finished for him bitterly.

They had never called her Moneypenny. They'd called her Penniless. And now he knew too. At this point, she found she'd stopped caring.

Then, Jack did something that startled her.

He laughed.

Not his usual low chuckle. A full-on fit of laughter.

It jolted her as if she'd been electrocuted.

His laughter was high-pitched and hoarse at the same time. It came from the depths of his throat, gurgling its way out of him as if he were choking on his own saliva. It had an eerie, almost old-fashioned quality to it. As if people didn't laugh like that anymore, with their entire body and face.

"Penny Liss," he repeated, gasping for breath. "Brilliant. Kaufman would've loved that."

Penny's features darkened. She knew he'd have the same reaction as everyone else. She'd been taunted about her name for as long as she could remember. It didn't help that she was in a bad financial spot. She'd always been rather penniless. It was almost as if the name was a curse.

She realized Jack had stopped laughing.

He was staring at her, all traces of humor gone from his face. One hand reached for her arm. It grabbed her gently but firmly.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice suddenly cold and hollow.

Her eyes widened.

"Don't ever let anyone laugh at that name again. Do you understand? No one must laugh at your name again."

His grip tightened on her elbow.

She pulled away, frowning.

"You just did."

Jack nodded. "And I'll be the last."

"I can't just make people respect me. It doesn't work like that."

"It's not about respect, Moneypenny. It's about fear."

"So, you think people should fear me."

"No. But they're only gonna stop laughing when they fear the name."

A long silence stretched between them as his words sank in.

Penny was unable to come up with a reply. She was dumbstruck.

Jack handed her back the piece of paper.

"The speech is all right. Just needs a rewrite."