Watchmen (c) Alan Moore and Dave Gibbins, I only entertain this absurdly fluffy idea.
Only character I own is Samantha Haley. And a few extraneous characters that no one will remember in the end.
Please don't kill me for doing this to Rorschach. It was something I had to get out of my brain. Rated M for language and violence, 'specially in the later chapters. Not sure if can actually be called "Mary-Sue"…but don't hate me…please?
Looking for constructive reviews, please.
Author's Note: Frankly, my favorite written chapter. My other favorite isn't yet written but will most likely net me my biggest, baddest reviews to date.
1967
THE GAME CHANGER
Samantha Haley stretched in the setting Fourth of July sun as her ribs sizzled on the grill. She waited for this day every year. Not always to show her pride as an American, but for what the day represented; freedom. Not to mention it was also the one day of every year was able to splurge a little and buy a heaping slab of ribs to enjoy with her never-the-same homemade barbeque sauce.
She opened the grill and smoke billowed from beneath the black hood. She gave the ribs a quick once over, they were pretty much done. The she pulled one of her foil covered baked potatoes from the heat, gave it a slice and a quick squeeze. The innards squished easily. She smiled, taking each potato from the grill and placing them on the table she'd set up on the roof. She quickly pulled the full slab of meat from the griddle before they became over done.
After placing the slab on the table next to the egg salad, Samantha walked to the edge of the roof and looked down. Walter Kovacs' window was right below her. She knew he was standing there. She'd known him long enough to know that he'd be leaving to become Rorschach for the night soon because July fourth was a popular day to be a criminal in New York. She'd only gotten back on better terms with him in the beginning of May. She'd been extremely happy that most of her customers understood when she had told them she'd had a small accident and would need more time.
Samantha stood near the edge, twirling the pitchfork in her fingers. She gave a light sigh; almost knowing what answer he would give, and laid on her stomach over the lip of the roof and tapped her neighbors window with the rib turner. She waited a few moments before tapping again.
"Come on, Kovacs. We both know you're right there." Samantha waited, but his window remained closed. "Please?" she coaxed. Finally the window creaked open.
"What, Miss Haley?" Walter questioned, not bothering to hide his aggravation.
"Would you like to share some of my barbeque ribs, baked potatoes, or egg salad?" she offered. Walter stared out his window as the hippies lengthy red hair peeked passed the window frame. "Come on, it's not everyday someone offers to share an extremely good and bountiful meal with a neighbor who loves to ruin the faces of criminals and could easily drop my ass seven stories just by giving my hair a good yank," she explained, lowering more of her ginger locks into view. Walter stared, unanswering, letting her sit in limbo while he mulled the idea over in his head.
"Fine," Samantha sighed before standing and heading back to her grill. Walter left the window open while he thought. This night was always one of his busiest each year, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a particularly good, home cooked meal. He never did any cooking, always ate out. The smells of sauce and melting butter wafted down from the roof, threatening to drag him up as they did with that cartoon mouse on the TV.
Just as Kovacs began to shut his window, his stomach growled for food. For her food. He closed his eyes and grimaced. He didn't want to have a meal with her, but his roaring stomach won over his lessening dislike for the hippie. He began to climb onto the window frame when he heard her feet walking back to his window and leave two things on the lip of the roof. When she walked back he climbed out and Walter peaked over the cement lip.
One was a large paper plate covered in food. A heaping pile of egg salad, five ribs slathered in thick barbeque sauce, and a baked potato; sliced but still wrapped in the foil, with nothing on it. The other was a sweating glass of Coke.
Samantha was severing her own plate of food when she heard the plate and bottle move. She smiled to herself, "At least he'll have a decent meal tonight."
"May I have butter?" Samantha stood stalk straight when she heard his gravel hardened voice behind her. She turned to see him sitting on the edge of the roof, loading his fork with egg salad.
"Holy, shit," she whispered, almost dropping her plate to the pebble topped roof. She placed her food on the little table and walked the plate of potato fixings to her vigilante neighbor. "Jus...just let me know if you need anything else," Samantha said with a smile, hers so infectious that the corners of Walter's mouth tuned up a little. Samantha's eyes went wide for a moment and her smile broadened as she tried to stifle a laugh.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh." She walked back to her table, giggles wracking her figure. Walter cocked his head curiously, what could she possibly find so funny? "I never expected to see you smile...in any form of the word," she said, answering his unasked question. "And I thought...hee...I thought if I did see you smile, that it would...hehe...it would look like it hurt." Samantha let out a full string of laughs before regaining her composure. "This in no way should be funny, I'm so sorry. I had no intention of doing that. I am so sorry, Mr. Kovacs." She looked back to her neighbor, hoping she hadn't just pissed off the cities roughest hero.
Walter stared, almost wanting to laugh at her reaction, but he didn't remember ever laughing before in his life. He opted for a small grin before picking up one of his ribs. He watched as his hippie neighbor realized he wasn't going to hurt her and that is was safe to begin eating her own meal.
'What the hell is wrong with me?' Walter thought to himself. He'd never smiled at anyone, except the criminals who could never see it. What was she doing to him? What spell was she casting over him that no other woman was ever able to accomplish? The snake in his stomach roared at him, telling him he should have just given her hair that good yank and been done with it all. But part of him was finding her just as intriguing and she found him. There was a mystery to her and; for some reason yet unknown to him, Walter wanted to figure it out. She was single but beautiful; a trait he mostly ignored. But there was a lingering sadness about her that drew him in like moths to the light.
"Is it alright, Walter?"
Kovacs shook his head a little, breaking his trance. "Hurm?"
"The food? Is it good?" she asked again with a giggle. Walter looked down at his plate, only one rib, half his potato, and a couple forkfuls of egg salad remained. The bottle of Coke had barely a sip left in it. He didn't remember eating.
"It was...fine," he said, realizing how full his belly felt now. His snake of anger seemed quite content. He looked to the sky, it barely had a tint of orange left to it. He needed to leave. He swung his legs over the edge and slid back into his room.
Samantha stood and walked to the edge to retrieve her dinnerware. She had one more thing to say and give him before he left to beat the tar out of random people tonight. Her hips swayed to the music pumping from her portable radio. Her flowing skirt tangled between her legs in the warm breeze. She turned as the song ended to see a slightly disapproving look on Rorschach's shifting face. A single firework popped in the sky, silhouetting Samantha like a dark statue. Rorschach's mask mimicked the Willow tree sparkler. A long silence fell between the neighbors as a few more fireworks popped in the sky.
"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Samantha finally said.
"Already have."
"I...I don't mean for tonight." Rorschach's mask shifted in mild curiosity. What else could she possibly have to apologize for?
"I wanted...to apologize for February. The Position that I out you in. I never...never should have done that. It hadn't even crossed my mind until you'd said it. Someone could have looked in and seen all that... Things could have been...so much worse for me had it not been you... I'm sorry." Rorschach was taken aback. He was the one who should be apologizing for that incident. "I still collect, I'm sure you know, but I now collect of everyone, not just you," Samantha pause, whipping a few tears from her eyes. "But I wanted to let you know...that I will never...consciously place you in a position like that again." She looked to the vigilante. It was hard to tell where his eyes were looking, but his whole body shifted and she knew he was looking at her now.
"Accepted." Rorschach walked by the hippie to go about his business, but stopped when he heard her turn to him. The snake told him not to do what his heart told him was the right thing. He ignored the snake and spoke, "Didn't know it was your way to make a living. I'm... I...," he couldn't bring himself to say the next word. He cast a glance at her, she was smiling.
"I know what you want to say. And I understand that you can't. Apology accepted." Samantha held out her hand, holding a Hershey Kiss by the label. The silver wrapper shimmered with the many colors of the fireworks crowding the skies. Rorschach took the chocolate from her fingers and stared at the little silver package in his hand.
"Thank you...Samantha." He barely looked at her face, knowing he'd made her happy. He walked to her edge of the roof and jumped down to the fire escape to bring punishment to those deserving.
