We finally arrived at the Stacked Deck, an old warehouse type building, with a neon sign hanging from above the door, though most of the letters had long since gone out. It was very noticeably in the Red Light District, with hookers and done up women hanging around outside it, and men leering over them. It made me very self conscious of the fact I was still in my new dress, just with a hoodie thrown on top of it.

Violet wrung her hands, as her eyes darted from person to person. "I know I agreed to come with you, but I still don't think this is a good idea." she murmured, her voice beginning to shake.

I patted her arm, my face free from nerves, albeit I was slightly on edge. "It's fine, Vi, they're all just men too big for their boots. Just don't approach them or make eye contact and we'll can be on our way, once we find Happy of course." I replied, giving her a big smile.

She stared into my eyes but shook her head. "We should go back, I could get my mom to help us out, that'll be a lot safer. Please, dude, we shouldn't be here." she responded, holding onto my arm, and trying to pull me in the opposite direction.

She was strong but I stood my ground. "I'm not going - this Happy guy killed my mom. He needs to pay, and your mom is Poison Ivy, who is pretty recognisable. So if he was in there, he'd get a heads up and be out of there." I replied, shaking her off. "Now stop being a scaredy cat and let's go."

Her eyes began to water, and her long, delicate fingers balled up into fists. "I'm sick of you ordering me around, you're gonna get us killed! Is that what you want? I don't care how lovely your mother was, she's not worth getting killed over!"

My face grew cold like stone. "Yeah? Well at least you have a fucking mother! I have nothing! So just...grow up!" I growled, my lip twisting.

Violet stared back at me hurt, and the tears began to fall, pinching her brown face a peachy pink. She held up her hands to hide her face, and the sounds of muffled light sobbing came from her covered mouth, getting distorted as she turned and ran the other way.

"Violet!" I called after her, mostly angry at her, but somewhere in there I felt guilt.

She didn't respond to me, continuing down the dark streets until she was no longer visible. I looked from where she was to the entrance of the bar, and back, and swore quietly to myself.

"She'll be alright," I reassured myself, hands in my pockets, as I entered the Stacked Deck.

The place had an aroma of whisky and the smell of cigarettes. There was a sign that said that people were prohibited from smoking in here, but I guess it was going unnoticed.

There was a pool table in the centre of the room, a bar to the right, and sofas in each corner. I wasn't sure about other nights, but tonight it was packed with people, mostly hard faced men, and it just made me pull up my hoodie further. I didn't need any unwanted advances. Just in case, I sat in the far corner of the room on a sofa - which had certainly seen better days - which kept me out of the limelight, and was a perfect spot to survey anyone coming in and out of the bar.

I sat there for a while, my eyes scrutinising every inch of this dingy bar, until I couldn't smell the odor of alcohol and smoke anymore.

"Stare any harder and I think you'll pop a blood vessel." spoke the voice of an articulate male Gothamite.

Turning to my left, I found it came from a long, lean man, with a smile on his thin lips. He was a rather sickly looking pale fellow, with pitch black eyes and purple rings underneath them, but yet there was something so charming about that. He certainly sat down next to me like a healthy man, strands of his black shaggy hair falling out of his ponytail as he did.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my hand deep in my pocket, and clenched tight around the knife I had only just gotten this morning.

He lay back, putting an arm around the back of the sofa. "I'm just saying, you look very concentrated." he replied, calmly.

I gave him no more than a serious glance. "I'm looking for someone."

He gave a sort of sigh, and sat up straight. "I could help you. I'm what you would call, familiar with these kinds of people."

I chewed my lip, but turned towards him. "I don't have much to go on, just that it's a guy called Happy, and so I assumed he might be at this bar. Being a criminal and all." I explained, using my hands to emphasise my words. There really wasn't much to go on.

The man laughed a little. "Well, what a coincidence! My alias is Happy, what's it to you?" he replied, aloof, and completely unaware of what was in store for him.

I sat still as my heart dropped to my toes. The man who had a hand in killing my mother, right here in front of me, probably armed to the teeth but I'd take my chances. Evil Marceline sat on my shoulder, and betted I could pop out his eyes before he could get a bullet in.

That was all the encouragement I needed.

As slick as a wild cat I pounced on him with all the force I could give, and clawed away at his neck and face. His surprised yell mixed in with my furious screams, until people in the bar looked our way. In other bars they might stop us, but in this one they either stopped and stared, or went back to drinking.

"You killed my mother, you sick fuck!" I swore, not wanting to risk the time it would take for me to grab my knife, and so pound him with my fists and nails instead. "She was defenceless in her own home, and you murdered her!"

"You've got the wrong guy, sweetheart!" he retorted. He grabbed my wrists, and threw me off of him, so my back slammed against the sofa. "I don't kill people in their own homes!" Soon enough he was on me again, just trying to pin me still so I couldn't attack him, but also so I could take him seriously. Maybe I was gonna lose that dare after all.

"But you're Happy," I snapped, but lowered my tone so we weren't yelling anymore. "They said Happy killed my mother, I thought I finally found you."

He sighed. "There's a lot of guys around here that are called Happy." he replied, his voice much softer, with a hint of understanding. He turned to look at the people still watching and glared, as if to silently tell them to mind their own business; he then turned back to me. "Do you want a drink, seen as it's Christmas?"

I wasn't old enough to drink, but it didn't matter. "A Bloody Mary."

He smirked, letting me go. "Very fitting."

-

"You did a number on me back there, you know." he spoke, as we sat there a little later with our drinks. He had plain whiskey, and nursed it as he felt the numerous scratches I'd dealt to his face and neck.

I folded my brow. "Sorry, I thought you were the guy that killed my mom." I had pulled down my hood, and now my white hair flowed out onto my black hoodie, creating quite the contrast.

He laughed. "I have a lot of people trying to kill me, you weren't the first and you won't be the last. They're usually desperate men, though, you're a nice change. Best Christmas present I ever got."

I smiled. "You must get pretty lousy Christmas presents then." I joked. Taking a pause, I looked around the place, not lingering on any specific person, but noticing the frowns as people drank. "God it's a miserable peanut gallery in here - you look like the happiest guy in a mile radius. Could that be why they call you Happy?"

He swigged the last of his drink, as I slowly slipped mine. "I'm usually one of the miserable bunch, but I just got off a successful job. But no. When I was first starting out, I used to bump off people for their spouses when they thought they were cheating. I'd have to follow them, catch them in the act and then cut their lives short. But the guys I met in the bar used to joke that the cheating partner died happy, being midway through sex."

"Oh, wow," I sniggered, running my finger around the top of my glass. "And so you are a killer?"

"Top in this side of the States, if you don't count Deadshot that is. But word is that he retired a few months ago, which means more jobs for me, and more targets on my back."

I smiled. "That's a hefty statement, from who, might I ask?"

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other fluidly. "Victor Donald Yaworsky, but you can just call me Victor. Or whatever you like really."

"Marceline Quinzel." I replied, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. I'd never really used my proper name before, and it felt kinda... good. Like I was saying a dirty word, but I was allowed to.

He raised an eyebrow. "Pretty name. Do your friends call you Marcie?"

The blush disappeared from my cheeks, and my throat grew dry. My friends, oh god, I'd forgotten about poor Violet! Oh I felt awful, the Narrows at night was no place for a woman, especially an unaccompanied one.

"Shit," I swore, putting down my drink and getting up quickly. "I'm sorry, I need to go, I need to find Violet-"

"Violet?"

"My friend, we came here together but she didn't want to come in, oh shit." I darted toward the door, bursting out into the night. I was surprised to see that Victor followed me.

"Which way did she go?" he asked, and I pointed in the general direction.

He sped off and I kept up the pace behind him, urgently looking down every alley. "She's got big red hair, and she's just an inch or two taller than me, and I think she's mixed black and white..." I stammered, my heart beating fast than it ever had.

"Her?" he asked, as we turned to find ourselves on the docks.

There were four men, all surrounding a much more innocent girl, which I instantly recognised as her. My heart dropped and I ran over, yelling and screaming. "Violet! You better step the fuck away from her you motherfuckers!" I screeched, grabbing my pocket knife and flicking it out in an instant. The moon hit the blade and danced as I twirled the handle.

"Oh, come join the party, to-" one man started, before he was silenced with a gunshot to the glabella.

The other men couldn't react fast enough, and were all put down for good with precise bullets straight through the centre of their foreheads. They flopped to the ground like a sack of bricks, as Violet gave a shrill, short scream. I stopped a second to gawk at what had just occurred, but I quickly ran over to Violet, cradling her in my arms and holding her close to me.

"I'm so sorry, Vi, I should have listened to you... fuck I could have lost you because of my stupidity." I breathed, smoothing her hair back. "In-in the future I swear I'm never gonna doubt you, I'm not gonna bully you anymore-"

"You stupid idiot," she bawled, and her tears soaked through the shoulder of my hoodie. She held me close and I felt tears come to my own eyes, though before everything went blurry, I looked up at the serious figure of Victor. I gave him a thankful smile.