Hi folks. Was debating how quickly I should post this since it's been done for a little bit but ultimately decided against holding it because, really, what's the point anyway?

Onward~

It wasn't often that King feared she would die from boredom while at work, but a slow night at the L'Amour Restaurant and Bar had her feeling that, surely, she would keel over from the lack of activity at any second. She desperately wanted to just beat someone up or go home, but things simply didn't work that way: Once she was "on the clock" there was no leaving until either the restaurant closed for the night or she was finished dispatching whoever crossed the Big Bad that day.

The Big Bad, who had strolled into the building, a woman on each arm, and decreed that he was not to be disturbed before disappearing into his private lounge to — presumably — do coke and wax poetic about how, some day, he'd usurp Geese Howard's position as THE boss of Southtown.

Of course, that left King downstairs to just… sit… and watch… and wait for someone in the nearly empty dining room (or even emptier bar) to get out of line, which wasn't likely at all given how dead the place was. It was already well into the evening, which meant that business probably wasn't going to pick up at all given that it was a weeknight. Thankfully, King knew from her previous experience waiting tables there to always bring a book.

"Hey, King."

King tore her eyes away from the pages in front of her so she could turn her attention to the bartender, an ancient man called Bruce. She raised her eyebrows, wordlessly giving him the go-ahead to continue talking.

"What'cha got there?"

King, who always did everything in her power to keep from speaking unless absolutely necessary, quirked a brow, as the title of the book should have been impossible to miss. She let out a deep sigh as she held the paperback up and gestured to the big, bold words printed on the front cover.

"The Divine Comedy?" Bruce asked, seemingly a little surprised. "It's been awhile since I've read that one. Where are you?"

Before King could inform the bartender that she was halfway through Canto XXX she caught sight of a very large, very burly man starting to ascend the stairs leading up to Mr. Big's lounge. She quickly set the book down, jumped out of her seat at the bar, and ran toward him.

"Hey!"

King's shout fell on deaf ears as the man kept walking. With a scowl she dashed forward and threw herself in front of him, ready to declare that Big wasn't seeing anybody, but stopped dead because she recognized the person — instantly. Hell, there was no way she couldn't, as his big, fat belly and trashy mullet burned themselves into her memory the night he beat — no, humiliated her.

"You?!" she blurted with zero thought.
"Yeah," he said plainly. "Me."

The man, who King remembered was called Jack, placed a beefy hand on her shoulder and effortlessly shoved her out of the way. She landed flat on her ass, suddenly extremely nervous because if he were to recognize her from that night, her charade would be over — just like that. And then where would she be? However, there was no time to think about such things, as she had been given a direct order: to make sure no one disturbed Big.

Especially not this slovenly asshole.

King jumped to her feet and ran in front of Jack once more. He narrowed his eyes as he stopped to size her up.

"You must be the new guy I've heard so much about," he sneered. "It's because you're new that I'll cut you a little slack."

With that, Jack pushed King out of his path. Her temper began to flare as she ran forward and placed herself in front of the large man again.

"Big said —"
"I don't care what Big said, boy," Jack growled. He reached out, snatched King by her collar, and carelessly tossed her out of his way; she skidded across the floor and grunted when her back collided with the wall.

"I gotta have a li'l discussion with him…!"

At that, Jack walked right up to a set of double doors and forcefully shoved them wide open, splintering the wood.

"Son of a bitch," King growled while she picked herself up. She sprinted into the room, where Jack was yelling at Mr. Big, who was sitting on a tacky sofa, flanked by his women. He cocked his head to the side when he noticed King.

"Apologies," she started in the low tone she used when she absolutely had to speak for extended periods. "I tried to —"
"Psshhh. I'm not interested in your excuses," Big interrupted. "I ain't mad, though! Been needing to have a meeting with Jack over here for a while now."
"...Then I'll take my leave," King said carefully.
"Appreciate it."

King bowed her head and started toward the exit; the sooner she could get out of there and regain her bearings, the better. However, she was stopped when Jack suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Hey, new guy," he said gruffly.

King glared at Jack as she pulled out of his grasp. There was something about the way he was squinting down at her that was making her intensely uncomfortable. She instantly recalled when he looked right into her face that night and told her she had guts for fighting him. She hoped beyond hell that the blood that had been running from her nose and lip during that event, or her longer hair, had obscured her features enough so that he wouldn't remember them, but the way he was just... looking at her told her otherwise. Was it her nose? The colour of her eyes? Whatever it was didn't matter — she needed to stay as composed as humanly possible. She drew in a breath and furrowed her brow.

"Yes?"
"You got a sister or somethin'?"
"No," came King's surprisingly even reply.
"A cousin?"

King shook her head in response, trying to remain as unaffected by Jack's questioning as possible. Her fight or flight response was going haywire, but she had to hold it together no matter what. If she didn't, it was game over.

"Hunh."

Jack squinted while looking her up and down; she could have sworn his gaze lingered at her hips.

"Ay, leave King alone, man!" Mr. Big called from his seat across the room. "He's good. A little quiet, but a real team player. Isn't that right, King?"

King turned so she could see Big before giving a curt nod.

"Speaking of," Big said. "I got a little job for you tonight. Might get messy, though."
"Who?" King asked stoically, though she was actually pretty excited.
"Martinez."
"Martinez? That's one of my guys!" Jack exclaimed.
"Yeah, well, he's been interfering with my shit for a minute. He needs to learn that that don't fly."
"Then let me take care of it. He's part of my cr —"
"I told King to do it," Big interrupted. "So King's going to do it."
"This pretty boy?!" Jack scoffed. "You're gonna send this pretty boy to deal with my guy? Are you out of your fuckin' mind?!"
"That 'pretty boy' don't have any soft spots for your boys, so he won't hold back the way you would."
"That's not —!"

Big's carefree expression suddenly melted into something much more sinister. He glared at Jack through his sunglasses, his demeanor icy. Dangerous. There was a very tense silence between the two men before Big addressed King.

"He's on his way here. Meet him out back and tell him I said hello."

With a nod King promptly rushed out of the room, fully — painfully — aware that Jack was watching her very intently. As she walked she pulled a pair of gloves from her back pocket and deliberately slipped them on, a little shaken by the possibility that the disgusting man in the lounge remembered her just as much as she remembered him.

Not a whole lot here (lucky you):

* The Divine Comedy (Dante's Inferno) tells the story of Dante as he journeys through the afterlife. Canto XXX is the Eighth Circle of Hell, which is made up of Falsifiers. I'm sure you see the connection here, as King is lying through her teeth about who she is and what her motives are.
* King met (and fought) Jack previously in A Profound Impact, which is just a few clicks that way.

Okay, I think that's all for this one. Tune in next time when... things... happen... and stuff? Until then, don't be afraid to let me know whose thoughts/feels/etc!

Cheers!