Trine hated her job; the pay was bad, the people were worse. Being a secretary, easy right? Wrong. Especially when her coworkers were leering creeps who enjoy any attempt in trying to make her cry. It was a game to them, to see who would break the secretary. But that day it had gone to far. The vicious tongued remarks had turned into fists and feet. Mr Aaron Wrex Jr, the CEO's son, didn't like when Trine gave a biting remark back to him, and in his anger had punched her. Him and his closest friend Mr Jonathan Holdan had proceeded to beat the shit out of the short girl. They were very careful, kept it to her stomach, torso and back. After she had peeled herself of the ground of the back alley she'd previously been smoking in, she careful re-entered the office (in which she was then shouted at for being late).
The major problem, Trine finally decided, was that she couldn't afford to quit. So, with great frustration, sorrow and pain, she decided she'd head for the Smile and Grin. Over the past week she'd frequented three times to see Joker and Harley, the bouncers new to let her straight in. Her outfit was once again stupidly inappropriate for the cold. She'd indulged herself slightly, allowing her littler side to come out. Her t-shirt was half white, half red and showed Stitch's badness level, her shorts black and ripped, white thigh highs adorned her legs, with her (still wet) sneakers.
Joker and Harley weren't there when Trine arrived, and for once she didn't care, she wasn't here for them. She needed a drink. Joker had made it clear to all the staff that whatever Trine ordered, any time she entered, would be on the house (that had caused quite the argument between himself and Trine). Sitting up at the bar, Trine asked for three shots of vodka which she downed in succession. Within a minute she was ordering coke and vodka and another shot. The shot was drunk in seconds, before she began sipping at the coke and vodka. She was tempted to order another shot when Frost sat next to her.
Trine wasn't stupid, she new Joker and Harley had told Frost to watch out for her, especially when they weren't there themselves. She, also, new that she could simply tell the couple of her problem and they'd fix it- but that would end up with many dead bodies and no job. These thoughts are what eventually led her to begin staring at Frost, until he finally broke their silence.
"What do you need, kid?" He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.
She chewed at her lip, before tentatively asking, "You're good at fighting and stuff right?"
Both his eyebrows raised at that question, an amused and cocky smirk flattering onto his lips, "Yeah."
"Teach me how to punch someone?" She blurted out.
The muscular man studied her for a minute, "And why d'you wanna learn that?"
Trine shrugged, "Just thought it'll be useful." She hedged. He kept studying her, and Trine found herself wondering what he saw.
Finally he conceded, "Alright. We start tomorrow night, back alley at nine."
"Why not tonight?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
Frost snorted, "'Cause you ain't sober, kid."
"Oh," Frost rolled his eyes with a fond smile at her response, "Okay."
After several hours of nonsensical chatting and lots of drinking on Trine's part, Frost insisted to drive her home. It was still early, about nine, but the young woman had arrived before five. She was drunk as fuck and he didn't want to risk her getting hurt. As was the duo's usual schedule, Frost dropped her at her apartment building, unusually, he also insisted of walking her up to said apartment, only leaving once he was certain her door was locked.
"Where you been, Frosty?" Joker drawled uncaringly when he arrived back. Frost was almost certain he'd only just arrived too.
"Driving the kid home." Frost grunted, readying to give his report on the events.
"Trine was here?" Joker perked up, suddenly interested, "Why'd she go home?"
"Because she was drunk off her face." Joker's expression contorted to a glare, Harley's was not much happier. "You're right, though," Frost continued, "Definitely a little, kept slipping." Grins covered the couples faces, making Frost almost unwilling to tell them the rest, "There's something else," He warned, dark expression clouding his face. Joker and Harley became alert quickly, "Kid asked me to teach her how to punch."
"Now why would she need to learn that?" Harley's voice was a deadly purr.
"She was sitting oddly." Frost finally let out his careful observations, "Like she'd hurt her back and sides recently. I don't trust it. Something wasn't right."
The couple finally sat up, looking at Frost, eyes deadly and cold.
"You think somebody hurt her?" Harley's voice was oddly low, in antithesis to its usual pep.
"Yes." Frost nodded.
Joker growled, pulling Harley to him. He was furious. Somebody had touched what was his! One of his girls, even if she doesn't fully know it yet. His mind was roaring at him, keeping Harley close to his body, as if worried she'd be harmed as well. His protective instincts were going haywire. He was out for blood.
"I want to know who." He growled out. "I want two distant guards on her at all times." He drew Harley even closer to him, "And I want someone dead."