True to his word Penguin made it his number one priority to sniff out the mole at Rusty's. Everyday two of his goons would show up when the doors opened. One goon to watch the bar like a hawk while the other goon would pull employees one by one into Rusty's broom closet of an office and mercilessly interrogate them. The employees often left the office battered and bruised, and in poor Sam's case, limping. Lila waited anxiously for the day it would be her turn.

But everything changed on Saturday. Instead of two goons the big boss himself showed up with his entire posse in tow. Just as they did the Saturday before they simply strolled in and shut the place down, sending all the "dregs of society" scattering back into the night. However this time when the employees gathered round they knew what it was for; Penguin found the snitch. Everyone stood, eyeing each other suspiciously. The silence was deafening.

Penguin stood in the center of the group, just like before, but this time his smile was gleeful. He let the moment simmer, enjoying the tension as it built.

"Ladies and gentleman," Oswald began, "I am sure by now you have all figured out that we have a slight problem. A pest problem, if you will."

He turned, eyeing his audience.

"A mole."

He let his words sink in, enjoying the effect they were having.

"I am a fair man," he simpered, "so I will give said mole the chance to come forward. Do the right thing, here in front of everyone."

There was a moment of silence, everyone looking side to side waiting for the supposed mole to step forward.

"No?"

Penguin feigned surprise.

"As you wish."

The sound of the front and back doors being bolted shut rang through the silent bar followed by muffled sounds of panic.

"Victor, if you please." Oswald beckoned his hit man.

Victor stepped forward, dressed head to toe in black, eyes gleaming. He made his way slowly around the circle of employees, eyeing each one in turn and smiling at them tauntingly. It was a sadistic game of duck-duck-goose.

From bartenders to the doormen, he made his way around. Lila watched her coworkers one by one stiffen in fear as Zsasz approached, and then breathe a sigh of relief when he passed. Victor got to Lila and paused. She felt her knees begin to buckle and he smirked before continuing down the line. The sound of his languid footsteps punctuated the deathly silence. The anticipation of the inevitable was building with each step.

Finally he came to stop in front of one of the bartenders, Ben. Victor's smile grew grim and Ben paled, shrinking away from the ghoulish figure in front of him.

"NOOOO!" Ben roared as two of Penguin's hulking men grabbed him from behind, dragging him into the center of the bar for everyone to see.

Zsasz followed casually. He pulled one of his guns from the holster.

"Oh my God!" Lila uttered in disbelief, turning her head away from what she knew was coming.

"I want you all to see what happens when you cross me," Penguin wasn't shouting but in the silence of the room his voice was thunderous.

Hushed sounds of gasps and frantic murmuring filled the air.

Then it happened. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the bar. Lila felt it reverberate in her ears. She heard the dull, sickening thump of Ben's body hitting the floor. One of the waitresses, a girl named Wendy, shrieked.

When Lila finally turned to look she wished that she hadn't. Ben's body lay face down in a pool of blood at Zsasz's feet. She resisted the urge to vomit and turned her head once more, this time gripping Sam's shoulder for support.

The sound of a gun being re-holstered was barely audible over the tell-tale uneven shuffle of Penguin as he stepped back into the center of the crowd.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," he sneered, pausing briefly for effect. Seemingly pleased, he turned on his heel and limped toward the front door, his merry band of murders not far behind him.

Zsasz was the last of the men to follow, stopping to admire his handiwork. He eyed the shaken employees around him, daring them to say something, to defend their fallen comrade. But the room was silent, and the big, strong hulking men that Lila had witnessed break up knife fights and toss rowdy drunks around like they were rag dolls, now averted their eyes under the sinister gaze of Victor Zsasz. Satisfied with their silence he finally turned to leave. Lila kept her eyes on the floor. She felt him pass. Though she didn't look up she could feel his eyes on her. He came so close to her she was certain she could feel his breathe ruffle through her hair. Her jaw tightened and she focused hard on the worn grain of the wood beneath her feet.

From the door Penguin called back to the crowd.

"I look forward to seeing you all again very soon."

And with that he hobbled out into the night, leaving the stunned staff of Rusty's to clean up the mess.

The employees stood, still circled around the bloody scene, unmoved and in shock.

"Well what are you all waiting for?" Rusty grumbled. "Clean this shit up. We've got a bar to run."

Though his words were gruff, Lila couldn't help but notice that they lacked the usual heart that Rusty put into being an asshole.

Within an hour the bar was back to normal. Two of the doormen disappeared with Ben's body and when they came back no one dared ask what they'd done with it. The floor was scrubbed and bleached along with the tables, chairs, lights, any surface that could contain any traces of evidence. The bloody rags were shoved in a black garbage bag and then they too disappeared.

The ghastly clean-up crew ended their shift sitting at the bar. Rusty played bartender, endlessly refilling glasses. Usually he was the kind of boss that marked liquor bottles at the end of the night and relentlessly kept track of every drop of alcohol in the house. Lila had seen people fired for so much as daring to drink even a sip of beer without paying for it. But tonight he poured bottle upon bottle of booze. No one spoke. No one made eye contact. They didn't have to; they were all thinking the same thing. They witnessed a murder that night. They cleaned it up, and they weren't going to say a goddamn thing about it to anyone; the unspoken pact of the Gotham underworld.

A man of his word, Penguin showed up at Rusty's the next week, and the week after, and the week after, and so on, to pick up his weekly dues. He would march into the bar, surrounded by three or four of his henchman, and saunter his way to Rusty's office. His meetings with Rusty often went on for over an hour, leaving Penguin's thugs milling around the bar and scaring off the locals. Lila was usually able to avoid his rather gorilla-esque cronies since for the greater part of the night she was on stage. However on this particular night she found herself offstage and on her break when Oswald showed up. She was sitting at the bar, staring down her whiskey and coke when the unmistakable silence that signaled his entrance fell over the crowded bar.

"His highness has arrived," the bartender, Nick, muttered sarcastically.

Lila swiveled around on her bar stool. Oswald was dressed in his usual black suit with his trademark sneer set firmly on his face. The sound of his cane thumping against the floor punctuated the silence. Following behind him were two nameless thugs in suits and the monster himself, Victor Zsasz. Oswald limped furiously towards Rusty's office, eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge anyone around him. Victor however took the time to scan the bar, smiling as patrons backed up or quickly looked away in fear. Lila quickly turned back to the bar wanting to avoid the group just as much as everyone else. She tipped up her glass and finished off her drink.

"Where the fuck is Sam," she grumbled under her breathe.

Sam left for his break over thirty minutes ago and Lila was dying to get back onstage so she would have a good excuse not to interact with Penguin's henchmen.

A large hand crashed into the bar next to her, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Gimme a beer."

"One of the goon squad, of course," Lila inwardly cursed her luck.

The man was tall, burly, with sandy brown hair shellacked to his skull, and a hooked nose that looked like it had been broken at least twice.

Nick nodded silently and slid a bottle into the man's hand. Oswald's men never paid. Perks of the job Lila supposed.

The man took a long swig before slamming the bottle back onto the bar top. Lila stared straight ahead.

"Well hey there doll-face."

Lila bit down on her lower lip and kept her eyes forward, ignoring the man.

Undeterred he reached out and brushed a stray lock of her tawny, brown hair out of her face. Lila reacted as if she had been burned, immediately jerking away from the man's hand.

"Awww, don't be like that," he said, his voice gravelly as if it had been soaked in whiskey and left out to dry.

Lila swallowed hard and kept her eyes on the bar in front of her.

"Come on princess, how much?"

She cringed and leaned away from him, biting her tongue to avoid getting herself into trouble.

"Don't be shy," he cooed.

Nick slammed another beer down in front of the man, breaking his concentration on Lila.

"Try one of the ladies around back."

"What if I want this lady?" He sneered as he gave Lila's thigh a tight squeeze.

"She's not for sale," Nick said through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm.

Lila looked up pleadingly at Nick, the man's greasy paw still on her thigh.

"Of course she is," came a familiar voice from behind Lila.

It sent chills down her spine and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She didn't have to turn to know who was behind them. His low, smooth voice was burned into her memory.

The man to her left removed his hand from her leg. Lila heard him grab his beer and shuffle off quickly without another word. Even thugs were scared of Victor Zsasz.

She kept her eyes trained on the shelf of liquor behind the bar, but in her peripheral vision she saw the tall, black clad figure seat himself at the bar stool formerly occupied by the greasy goon. She could feel him staring at her.

"Everyone in Gotham has a price," he said lowly.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Nick interrupted.

Victor ignored him.

"Some people it's money, safety, family, or maybe even their life," he continued calmly.

Lila tilted her head slightly, daring a peak at him from the corner of her eye. She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Just a month ago everyone in this bar paid a very high price, and for what? Their jobs...to spare their own skin…"

He had a way of accenting each word, elongating their syllables that made Lila uneasy.

Now she turned to face him. She inhaled raggedly as the memory of that night washed back over her.

His eyes bore into hers.

"So you see, everyone in Gotham has a price."

She swallowed hard.

Before the conversation could continue the door to Rusty's office flew open with such force it banged harshly into the wall, causing everyone to turn their attention as Penguin stormed out, limping furiously through the bar. Victor stood immediately.

"Talk to you again soon, Lila," he muttered before following his boss out the door.

Nick was leaning on the bar, his hands spread out in front of him, holding himself up. He kept his eyes on the retreating backs of Penguin and his men.

"That's not good," he mumbled.

Lila eyes were also fixed the group.

"Victor Zsasz or Penguin storming out of Rusty's office angrier than usual?" She asked.

"Both."

She looked up at him.

"You should go find out what happened."

He laughed sardonically.

"Why me?"

"You've worked here longer."

"Yeah but you've got the tits."

"What does that have to do with it?" She asked incredulously.

"It means he likes you more," he said offhandedly, turning his back to her to straighten up a row of glasses.

Lila rolled her eyes, and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"Fine," she conceded, "since I'm the only with some balls around here."

She slipped off her bar stool and made her way to Rusty's office. The noise level was rising back to normal with the exit of Penguin and his men, but it was an uneasy buzz instead of the usual drunken revelry. Lila caught the eyes of a couple of her coworkers as they watched her knowingly.

The door to Rusty's office was still wide open from Penguin's exodus. Lila poked her head in and found Rusty with his head in his hands. She stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her, clearing her throat gently as she did so. Rusty looked up quickly, as if frightened that Penguin may have come back for round two.

"Oh," he grumbled when he saw it was just Lila, "what the fuck do you want?"

"I just…I…uhh," She stammered, finding it hard to convey compassion to her surly boss, "I wanted to see if you were ok."

He snorted, looking up from his desk, his eyes bulging more than usual.

"Do I look ok sweetheart?"

"Well-"

"As if it's not already bad enough that I've got the cops breathing down my neck about that kid, now this creep is tryin' to bleed me dry. So no. I am not ok," he snapped.

Oh," Lila replied quietly. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Rusty gave an exasperated sigh, "Look, I appreciate whatever it is you were trying to do, coming in here and all, but unless you got a few thousand stuffed in that dress," he motioned his sausage like fingers up and down, "than there is nothing you can do for me princess except pray."

She nodded.

"Now if you don't mind," Rusty grumbled, swiveling around in his chair so his back was to Lila.

She took the hint and left, closing the door behind her.

"What'd he say?"

Several of Lila's coworkers had gathered around Nick at the bar and they now stood silently waiting to hear the news.

"That between the boys in blue and Penguin's sudden price hike, the bar is several grand behind on rent," she said dismally, saddling up to her bar stool.

The group collectively groaned.

Nick slid another drink in front of her.

"So we're fucked," he said matter-of-factly.

"Pretty much," Lila replied, lifting the whiskey and coke to her lips.

She barely noticed Sam as he slid in, taking the empty bar stool next to her.

"What'd I miss," he asked, smelling strongly of smoke.

Lila snorted dryly.

"Nothing," she drained her drink, "You ready to get back on stage?"

He didn't answer, simply grabbed his music books and lumbered towards the stage.