*Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen in any way, shape or form. Only the plot and OC.

A/N: Third chapter's up. I borrowed some lines from the novel for the introduction in case the dialogue sounds a little familiar to you. Here we see our OC interacting with some secondary characters in the novel. Meanwhile Rorschach lays some big news on Dreiberg. We'll see how that goes. Anyway, I wanna give a big thanks to the readers so far! Your reviews offered a lot of helpful advice and gave me the drive to keep going! I have a really bad habit of starting a story and not finishing it, but not this time! I promise you that.

P.S. Serious question: Does anyone know if Where's Waldo was around in the 80's? 70's?

~ Later that night ~

After a quiet evening of reminiscence and a few drinks with Hollis Mason, Dan Dreiberg made his way down the night fallen Manhattan street. It was nice, catching up on old times every once in a while. But every time he'd finish recounting some random tale of heroism, be it a foiled bank robbery or a simple mugging, Dan would always feel a faint pang in his heart.

Deep down, he missed it all.

Although he'd never say it out loud, he secretly longed for the days of donning a mask and cape, keeping the city safe from evil doers and such. With a light scoff, he dismissed it. It was a stupid of him to think of such things. In the long run, he figured, he was better off a quiet civilian.

Clutching the collar of his coat with both hands, he picked up his pace to avoid the rain that had begun to fall. Finally reaching his door, he dropped his keys at the sight before him. The lock had been kicked in. Picking up his keys, he slowly pushed the broken door open with his finger tips and inched his way in. Squinting through his glasses, he noticed his kitchen light had been turned on. Tiptoeing down the hall with fists at the ready, he strained his ears for any sign of the intruder being in there. Sure enough, light metal scraping sounds could be heard from within. As he approached, he could make out the faint sounds of chewing. Reaching the door, he carefully pushed it open to find...

"Hello, Daniel."

"Rorschach...?"

As he got up, he continued. "Helped myself to some beans. Hope you don't mind."

Truth be told, he could care less whether the man minded or not. He knew Dreiberg well enough to know that he was a pathological people pleaser. Didn't matter what he thought, so long as everyone else was happy. "Uh...That is, no! No, of course I don't mind..."

Pathetic.

Rorschach could tell by the look on his ex-partner's face that the situation had left him a little dumbfounded, though he hid it well. Despite the clear intrusion on his privacy, he appeared totally fine with it. For God's sake, he just broke into the man's home! Either way, Rorschach wasn't there to rant about Daniel's...inadequacies.

He was there to reveal a certain discovery he had made earlier that night.

"So, uh...Long time no see! How have you been keeping?" Dan inquired while removing his coat. With a soft grunt, Rorschach pulled down his mask and stood up to face him.

"Out of prison. So far"

"Is uh...is something the matter?"

"As a matter of fact...no."

Seeing Daniel's eyebrows shoot skyward, he continued.

"Just came by to tell you...found something interesting earlier tonight. Someone you might remember."

His interest peaked, he turned his attention to the door next to the counter. Twisting the knob, he turned back to Rorschach. "Uh, listen, maybe we could talk about this downstairs. I feel kinda exposed up here." With a nod of understanding, Rorschach followed Daniel down the dimly lit stairs which led to his workshop. Reaching the bottom, Daniel pulled down the lever and all the lights went up, illuminating all his old, forgotten gadgets. Rorschach couldn't understand how Dreiberg could keep himself from this treasure trove for all these years. If it were him, he would have gone insane. As opposed to his normal, well-rounded, personality disorder-free self that is.

"So, uh...who's the mystery man?"

"Not man...woman"

Daniel's head whipped around to face Rorschach. Since when did he talk to women? Then again, since when did he talk to anyone at all, really. Feeling a sudden rush of awkwardness, he absentmindedly fiddled with the frames of his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Uh, w-uh who is she?"

"Name's Renée. Picked her up several years ago after a failed kidnapping," he began, swiping his index finger along the glass wall that contained Daniel's Night Owl costume.

Looking down at his now dust-layered finger, he continued. "Sent her to an orphanage in Queens under the assumption that she came from an abusive family,"

Wiping the dust off with his thumb, he turned to face Daniel.

"You helped."

Dragging a hand through his hair, Daniel slowly nodded and let out a chuckle. Looking back at the owl ship, a faint smile of reminiscence crept onto his face.

"H'yeah...yeah, I remember. Boy that sure was a while ago. How d'you know it was her?"

"Caught a group of thugs trying to make off with her again"

"You're kidding!"

Rorschach ignored the remark.

"Right. Well, what are you suggesting?"

"Hurmm..." He began, rubbing his chin.

"...Find it very unlikely that she would be coincidentally jumped twice in the same area, especially with such a long time gap between both instances."

"Wait, didn't her father have something to with all this?"

"Robert Arnaud. Wanted for multiple drug and theft charges. Ran with a small underground drug syndicate in his youth. Left later on to start a family," he said, looking down at the table filled with Daniel's many Night Owl 'accessories'.

Following his gaze, Daniel stared intently at one particular canister. It looked like a smoke bomb. "So what does it all have to do with her?" Looking back up at Daniel, he continued.

"After he left, Arnaud still had some...'debts' to repay. Seems he'd jumped a drug dealer or two from a rival gang and had been caught. Supposedly through some informants that knew Robert personally, the gang managed to get information on his family." Letting go of the object that Daniel had taken to dusting off, he turned his full attention to Rorschach with a deep furrow in his brow.

"You can figure out how the rest of the story goes" Rorschach finally concluded, jamming his hands into his pockets and making his way down the steps next to the tunnel.

"So you're thinking they've found her again?"

"I'm thinking...it's a possibility"

"Rorschach, don't you think that's a little paranoid?"

"That's what they're saying about me now? That I'm paranoid?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that it's a slim-to-nil chance. It could have been just random violence!"

"Could be...Could also be the first lead to taking down an entire underground organization of murderers, rapists and drug dealers."

"Rorschach, I'm not-"

"Relax, Daniel. Realized about half way through our conversation that you wouldn't help out, despite how much you want to. I see the way you look at all this. It's a portal to the past. To your so-called 'glory days', back when the well being of humanity outweighed the want for a normal life. If that's what you wanna call what you're living in now."

And with that, Rorschach turned back around to face the tunnel, all the while being watched by a very stunned Daniel.

"Be seeing you, Dan...Enjoy wallowing in obscurity"

As Daniel watched Rorschach's form fade into darkness, he shuffled over to the display case that held his goggles and eyed them carefully. Grabbing them, he plopped down on a crate and ran his hands over every crevice of the goggles as a blind man would to shape the picture of it in his mind. And with a weary sigh, Daniel simply sat there, wallowing in obscurity.

~ The next day ~

Stepping out onto the sunlit city street, Renée set out of her home with a spring in her step. Looking around at the hustle and bustle of early morning Manhattan, she didn't quite know where to start.

To make a halfway decent living, she would have to find a job.

With an annoyed huff, she decided to head east. Her mission was to track down the first diner in sight and apply there. She figured it wouldn't be too hard, seeing as how there was at least one at practically every street corner. After a short while, a magazine stand caught her attention so she stopped to read some of the headlines. Without realising, she almost tripped over a boy who had taken to sitting next to the stand, reading a comic book.

"Woops! Sorry about that, little man", she uttered as she looked down and behind her with a smile. By the looks of him, he was only a couple of years younger than she was. He sported a brown leather jacket, tight jeans and a pair of worn-out sneakers. Lifting the self-rolled cigarette from his lips momentarily, he replied without even looking up from his comic book.

"S'alright"

With a curious hum, Renée kneeled down next to him. She figured she'd get to know him before asking for directions.

"Whatcha reading there, sport?"

With a furrow in his brow, he looked up. His annoyance dissipated instantly when he looked at her, cheeks flushing pink. Needless to say, he knew a pretty girl when he saw one. His cigarette now hanging limp from his fingers, he replied.

"'T-uh-tales of the Black Freighter'"

"Ooh, what's that all about?"

"Oh, well uh, there's this dude, right? Yeah. He's pissed 'cause this gang o' pirates killed his family and now he wants revenge...That's pretty much all I've read so far" he said with a chuckle.

"Hmm, sounds pretty intense. Since when did comic books have to get all existential?"

"Haha, right" he hastily replied, pretending he knew what the last word meant.

Slowly getting up, she figured she'd ask him now. "Listen, do you know where I can find a diner around here? See, I'm looking for a job."

His face fell a little at the sight of her leaving as he replied. "If you keep walking down the street and hang you first left, you'll see the Gunga Diner. By the way, my name's Jesse."

What a nice boy, she thought with a smile. "Thank you, Jesse. And my name's Renée. Guess I'll be seeing you a lot more often, huh."

Beaming, he waved to her goodbye. Returning the wave with a smile, she turned back to make her way to this 'Gunga Diner'. Meanwhile, just a few feet away, the newsstand owner looked down at his watch and gasped.

"Oh, Shit! I'm late! Hey kid, I'm gonna hafta take that comic book back from you now."

"The hell! Why?"

"Look kid I gotta close up for a few hours, so skedaddle!"

Not wanting to throw away his entire day's schedule without a fight, Jesse sought some solution to the problem. Without having to look too far down the sidewalk, he got an idea.

"No worries man, just gimme one second!" and with that, he got up in one quick motion and jogged a few feet down the sidewalk. "What the hell d'you think yer doin'?!" the man yelled after the boy, but was ultimately ignored.

Renée let out a startled yelp at the feeling of her arm being pulled back and she whipped around to see the same boy she had just spoken to, now pulling her back down the sidewalk.

"What's the big idea, Jesse?" she curtly inquired, trying not to lose her footing as she was dragged back.

"Chill, Renée. I found you a job!"

Before she could inquire any further, she was shoved right in front of the confused-looking newsstand owner. He was a stocky, oldish looking man who wore a hat. Brow furrowing in even deeper confusion (if that was even possible) he turned to the subject of his annoyance.

"And who is she?"

"A temp, yo. She could fill in for as long as yer gone so you won't hafta close up. 'Sides, she was lookin' for a job anyway."

Both Renée and the owner pondered for a moment. On the one hand, there was no assurance of her actually getting a job right away should she simply show up at the diner. But this guy would never-

"Fine, kid. You're lucky I'm in a hurry."

Both Renée and Jesse appeared quite astonished that he'd actually agreed to it. Turning to the girl now, he smiled warmly at her and stuck out his right hand.

"Name's Reggie Barns, but you can call me Regg."

Accepting the handshake, she returned the smile.

"Hello, Regg. My name's Renée."

"Hello, Renée. You look like you've got a good head on your shoulders so I'm trustin' you with this stand for a few hours" Going behind the stand for a moment, he reappeared with a wad of bills in his hand.

"Here's twenty bucks. Now I'll give ya another one if my stand's still here when I get back" he said with a chuckle.

"Thanks, Regg. This means a lot to me"

"Likewise, kid."

"So I just give out what people ask for?"

"Pretty much. And if anyone gives ya a hard time, junior here's gotcher back" he replied, winking at the blushing boy.

"Yeah man, no worries. Now, don't you have somewhere to be, old man?"

"Shit yer right! Well I'd best be going," he hastily replied as he turned to leave.

"Take care, Renée! Make sure that kid don't steal anything!"

Returning his wave, she laughed softly.

"Okay Regg, I'll keep an eye on him"

Turning around, she moved to sit on the chair next to the stand. As she stepped past her new friend, who had taken to sitting back down in his spot, she reached down and ruffled his dark curly hair.

"Thanks, bud"

"No problem, yo" he replied. With his face hidden behind the comic book, she hadn't noticed the big grin he'd been sporting the entire time.

~ Hours later ~

As the sun hung directly above her, Renée read over the same page in the same magazine she had already read fifteen times. It was only mid-day and she was beginning to get restless. So far, there had only been a couple of customers, all buying the same copy of the Gazette. With a restless sigh, she opted for getting some small talk out of the boy that sat to her right.

"How do you do it, Jess...Just sitting here, day in and day out?"

"Well normally, the old man's always blabberin' about some issue gripping the world. That usually passes the time. I just sit here, sometimes readin' a comic book, sometimes listenin' to the old dude's jibber jabber."

With a weary hum, she plopped her elbow on the shelf to her left and rested her cheek in her hand. She'd let him read his comic book in peace, for now. Maybe she could set the booth on fire and say some teenagers did it. She chuckled through her nose at the image of her burning something out of boredom like some kind of pyromaniac.

"Oh yeah! There's something the old man forgot to tell ya"

Lifting her head like a dog that had been jolted awake by a loud noise, she turned to look down at the boy next to her.

"What? What'd he forget?"

"Well...Every day, this freaky dude comes by for a copy of The New Frontiersman. Regg only orders one 'cause no one else reads it. It should be in the back there somewhere, 'case the guy shows up"

With a look of absolute intrigue, Renée hopped out of her seat and jogged to the back of the stand. Sure enough, there lay a copy of The New Frontiersman in its own little cardboard box. Warily she picked it up and looked over some of the headlines. Frowning a little, she read over the first couple of pages, and then closed it. "Hmm...Nothing like right-wing press to start your day" she said and lightly scoffed. She was never one to get politically involved, but she did have a sense of right and wrong. And right (wing) was definitely wrong. In her opinion at least. Placing it underneath the chair, she wondered who this 'freaky dude' Jesse spoke of was.

Before her imagination got too out of hand, a shadow suddenly loomed over her and blocked out the sun. Her head slowly drifting up, she was faced with a man in a dark overcoat, holding a sandwich board over his shoulder with words written on it that read 'THE END IS NIGH'. Chilling as the words were, she came to the realisation that this was the same man who had helped her find her way the day she had moved back in to the city. She was almost certain that he hadn't remembered her though, so she decided not to make a fuss over it.

"Good morning, sir"

Standing in his own shadow, he looked rather menacing, especially with the sudden grimace that flashed across his features the moment he registered her face. Had she said something wrong?

"Hmm...Where's the old man?"

Though it was meant to sound like a question, it came out as an order. Wearing a guarded smile she politely answered.

"Mr. Barns stepped out a few hours ago and won't be back 'til later this afternoon. Is there something I can help you with?"

By now she had stood up, soon after which the man took a step back. Frowning a little at the news, he continued.

"Perhaps. Owner usually holds a copy of The New Frontiersman for me."

Smiling, she knelt down to pick up the newspaper she had carefully placed under the chair and held it in front of him.

"Right here, sir."

He nodded with a humourless smirk as he reached into his pocket for change. Looking up at the sign, she decided to use it as a conversation starter.

"So...how's the end of the world coming along?"

Taking his hand out of his pocket, change in hand, he replied completely stoic-faced.

"Today for certain. I've read the signs. National Examiner reported a three-headed dog born in Newark"

Renée's playful smile had long since faded. Unfazed by this he continued.

"Today for certain."

Looking down, she noticed his hand outstretched, offering her the change.

"Oh, right. Here you go. Sorry about that. Just...new at this."

As she reached for the change, their fingers touched for a moment. She made a mental note of how quickly his hand retreated into his pocket.

"So you'll tell the old man to keep my paper for me tomorrow?"

Opening her mouth to answer, she noticed that he'd already started walking away.

"Uh...sure, no sweat. I'll let him know"

Sitting back down, she went back to propping her elbow onto the table and resting her head in her hand.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she thought it was Jesse.

"You won't forget?"

When the voice didn't match who she thought it was, her head fell right out of her hand, slamming her chin onto the hard surface of the table. Whipping her head around, she wanted to give him an aggravated look. Instead, she ended up shooting daggers into his back as he turned to walk away again. With an irritated groan, she began rubbing her sore chin.

"Told ya he was a freaky dude." Jesse remarked through a chuckle.

~ Later that night ~

As she closed the door behind her, Renée plopped onto the cot she had laid out for herself with a weary sigh. Two nights and all she had acquired was forty bucks, a numb butt from sitting down all day, a sore chin, and a bump on the noggin. Rubbing her head, she found it odd that it would only cause her pain at night. She would have to get that checked out soon. In the meantime, all she could think of was Rorschach. It was the only way she could ever manage to get through five hours of watching a newsstand without getting creative with a lighter and a tank of gasoline.

They would just be random fantasies of feats of heroism like beating up thugs, saving a kid from a burning building, rescuing a girl from being mugged.

But not just any girl.

She would sigh wistfully as she thought of yet another sequence in which the masked stranger would save her from some impending doom. The whole idea sounded so romantic to her. But she knew like all things shrouded in mystery, there was a lot more to it than saving a damsel in distress. As her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, she thought of yet another Rorschach rescue scenario until she completely succumbed to sleep.

A few hours later Renée was jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. She had had one of those nightmares again. The ones she could never remember but left her with cold, sweaty and shaking limbs. Taking a few calming breaths, she got up and walked to the window. Maybe it was just the heat that was bothering, she thought as she opened it. All she wore was a long baggy T-shirt due to the lack of an air conditioner. Sticking her head out, she opted for sitting on the window sill, leaving her legs to dangle over the edge.

Despite the possible thirty foot drop, she sighed and looked out at the panorama, which consisted of a giant billboard mounted on the side of a sky scraper. It featured an attractive blonde pulling up her stocking with a caption that read "Oh, how the ghost of you clings..." with the subtitle "NOSTALGIA by Veidt". A fragrance ad, she concluded. Though she knew it was nothing more than a marketing tool, she looked up at it and smiled slightly.

It helped her think back to better times.

Quality time spent with her brother, her mother's voice, and her brief encounters with Rorschach all came into her mind as she basked in the first sense of happiness and belonging she had felt in the longest time. Hooking her left foot around her right ankle, she gripped the window sill on either side of her. Leaning forward a little, she looked up at the sky. It was a cloudy night and the only thing she could make out was an ad blimp that faded in and out of view. She figured that even if there were no clouds, the light pollution would have certainly dimmed the starlight anyway.

With a slight frown, she looked down at the street below. A car would slowly pass by every now and then. Meanwhile, she counted at least six hookers that trotted up and down the street. It was like playing a sick, sexual version of Where's Waldo. With a scoff, she decided to close her eyes, the initial fright of her nightmare long since forgotten. Every where she looked, there was something wrong with the picture. Be it pollution, shameless marketing, or moral decay.

But one thing Renée hadn't seen stood against the side of an alley across from where she sat, shrouded in shadows, writing away in his journal. As he finished, he placed the book into his chest pocket and shoved both hands into his pockets and looked around. Rorschach decided that the best place to start finding a lead was near the residence. Looking up, he squinted a little through his mask to make out the form of the girl sitting at her window sill, looking down at the street below with a slight frown.

Humming curiously, he wondered what possessed a young woman to sit on her window ledge at three in the morning without wanting to jump. For a moment, he contemplated whether she was actually suicidal, and then shrugged it off. She didn't seem the type. Far too happy and not yet given up on human kindness. He noticed that during his encounter with her earlier that same day. He managed to hide his initial shock at seeing her again, but didn't enjoy that brief moment of contact between their hands.

He made a mental note of wearing gloves at all times.

The only woman he would ever consider an 'acquaintance' was Laurie, whom he was not too fond of to begin with. Far too corrupted and attached to melodrama. Still, he was coming to the realisation that he would have to interrogate this Renée person in order to advance any further in his hunt to bring down this organization. With a sigh of resentment he retreated further into the alley. He needed to rid himself of a strange feeling of impatience that began creeping over him.

"This won't be over soon enough" he mumbled dismally as he took one last look at the girl he would eventually have to talk to again.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter dragged on a bit. I've been having a bit of trouble getting the flow of this story just right, so lemme know what you all think by reviewing! :)