I clearly don't own any of the DC characters (or any DC material in general) or any other well known characters. I simply own my OCs. This is my first time publishing so I appreciate comments and helpful criticism just try not to bash. Since this is my first time publishing, I'm sure there are some errors so for that I apologize. This story is rated M which will be more apparent in future chapters. Thanks!

Rain, rain, go away...Highly unlikely, Emily thought to herself with a sigh. If there was one constant in this city it was rain and crime. But then again, that's Gotham for you. It wouldn't be an average week in Gotham without gray skies, wet sidewalks, and gun shots. Emily turned over to stare at the ceiling. Maybe a flashflood will happen. That was a good enough excuse to call off right? Pfft. Rick, who could only be described as a creature from hell, would probably make her find a boat and tell her to paddle her way there.

Suddenly, the harsh noise of her cell ringing filled the room. Speak of the devil.

"Hello Rick, how are you this fine Wednesday? I'm doing great since I still have forty-five minutes left of comfy time," She answered, her voice sickly sweet.

"Cut the shit Emily, you're coming in early," he grouched.

"I'm sorry but you didn't say please, besides, Trish is supposed to be there." Stupid bitch. "If she said there's a flash flood she's full of shit," she grumbled mildly like small child. When people asked her age she would respond with twenty-seven, an adult, although if she were to be honest with herself, the term adult could be used very loosely.

"Look, I'm not asking, I'm telling you to get your ass in here!" And with that, he hung up. Who does this dickhead think he is'? Does he really think I'm gonna take this shit?! Oh wait. I'm a twenty seven year old who can't afford to lose my job, that's who he knows I am. She took a few more minutes to lounge around in bed and listen to the rain, if Trish could call off, then Emily could be a little late.

Forty-five minutes later, she rolled in donning some basic black yoga pants, her chucks, and the stupid green shirt with a smiling pizza on it. Cue snort. A "unifying" uniform, fucking ridiculous would be a better description, that's what all the employees thought. She stopped to look in the mirror hanging in the hall that lead to the kitchen to make sure that she looked mildly like a human being. Black eyeliner, black mascara, check. Vanilla mint chapstick, check. Hair, eh, it'll have to do, she surmised. It wasn't curly, beach wavy, one may call it, and hit a little below her shoulder blades. She learned a long time ago to let it do its thing. Her Gram used to say, "wild hair for a fearless girl." If only she was fearless. She may have had a bigger set of balls then some men but that was simply for survival. They say to make yourself bigger when facing a bear.

"Emily!" She spun around, hand on her chest.

"Jesus Christ, Rick! What's your deal?" Only five minutes into her shift and Rick was already on her nerves.

"Get your ass to the back and set up the banquet room," he grumbled, hitching his thumb towards the back. Said "banquet room" was an ugly room with red walls and low hanging lights. The room itself looked like it was shit out of a mobster movie. Snorting, like a true lady, she rolled her hazel eyes to stop all the comments that were ready to fly from her mouth. It was too early in the day for her to be sassy, and she knew it too. It never hurt to pretend to be a good employee. "Now!" He shouted before storming off.

Deep breaths, Em. Deep breaths.

She walked into the kitchen to get everything she would need for the "banquet room" and was met with her only saving grace in this hell hole, that description could be applied to Lenny's Pizzeria or Gotham in general. Take your pick. Jim was standing over the stove in all of his 6'6" glory working on what smelled like alfredo sauce. Jim looked like a surfer who somehow got lost on his way to the coast. His shaggy brown hair fell to his shoulders while two full sleeves covered his arms. The man was gorgeous, it only made sense that he'd be decorated with gorgeous ink. Emily had spent many nights fantasizing about being wrapped in those arms but he was her best friend and they had agreed to not jeopardize that friendship. Gorgeous and a stand-up guy, two things you rarely found in men. Sometimes she wanted to kick herself for agreeing to a platonic relationship.

He looked up at her and gave a wink. "Hey beautiful."

She let a grin break out on her face and followed up with giving him a kiss on his cheek. "So what's up Rick's ass today? He's being more of a douche than usual."

"He didn't tell you who was coming in today?" He asked, brows furrowing. He watched as Emily clicked her nails against the counter and stared up at him with an "obviously not" plastered on her face. "Big Sal and his crew."

Great, more of Gotham's finest, she thought to herself, once again rolling her eyes. It was a habit she could never break and she believed that one day her eyes just may stay in the back of her head. "Fuck, I don't have the energy for this." She quickly grabbed what she could hold and headed out to set up the room.

"Better drink some coffee." Jim laughed as she walked away, a sway in her hips, as she proudly waved her middle finger at him.

"All I'm saying Jim, is that these dicks better tip well," She bitterly ground out while sipping on her diet coke. The "crew" had taken over an hour to order and if she got called "doll" one more time, she was bound to lose her fucking mind.

"It's not that bad, it's been pretty calm," he replied with a shoulder shrug.

"Yea well, you get to stay back here and cook. Without Trish and Christy, and Andy working the front, I'm the only one waitressing back there." At least Trish had the decency to call off, Christy just didn't show up. Must be nice being Rick's niece. She hopped off the counter and rolled her shoulders while looking over at Jim. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bunch of assholes to wait on." She grabbed her tray and took one last sip of diet coke. Alright, the sooner I go out there, the sooner they'll be gone.

"Just do it with a smile, doll."

Fucker. He got another middle finger as she tried to muster the last of her politeness while leaving the kitchen.

The smell of cigar smoke practically slapped Emily. All of the men looked up, some with pure boredom etched on their faces and some with what she could guess would be considered smiles. They honestly just looked tired, except for one. One of the men had a sneer and eyes that seemed to follow her every move. He was built, that was certain and he could have been attractive with his olive skin. He had that salt and pepper hair that was combed back but everything about him screamed sleazy. Alarms weren't going off yet, but they were starting to sound in her head. Shrugging off the bad vibes, she smiled at everyone looking to see if there was anything she could get out the way.

"Any of you guys finished? I can start clearing things out of the way for you," she said with a smile. She could be nice when she wanted to be, even if it was fake as hell. She clearly missed her calling to be an actress. A few of the men grunted in return and she took that as her cue to start taking shit away. As she stood next to Mr. Sleazy, who was actually named Mark, she felt his hand brush up against her thigh. Suddenly the alarms were blaring full force.

"How ya doin doll?"

Deep breaths, Em. Deep breaths. "Well it's been a busy day so I'll be glad when I can go home." She quickly stepped away but his calloused hand latched on right above her elbow and pulled her closer.

"I think that you'd feel much better at my house."

She slammed her tray onto the table and the sound of clattering plates and utensils seemed to bring about an uneasy silence to the room. She could feel everyone's cold eyes inspecting the situation. "I think you should let go of me," she growled. Normally she wouldn't have been so bold but what could really happen in a room full of people? Emily trained her eyes on the table, because she knew the moment she looked up she would do something that she'd most likely regret.

"Make me," he growled at the same time his hand grabbed her ass.

Red. Emily saw red the moment his foul hand caused her balance to shift. Spinning around her fist connected with his face and two things happen. One, a searing pain erupted from her knuckles and shot up her arm. Son of a bitch, she winced in pain. Two, her back met the table and this piece of shit had her pinned. A new found panic started pounding in her chest.

"You're gonna pay for that bitch!" He shouted but before he could make good on his threat, he was yanked away and the next thing she knew, she was staring at Jim's back. She could see that his muscles were strained as he stood his ground, her protector. Jimmy, thank god, she cheered in her head while letting out a fists were clenched, and she watched as his shoulders rose and fell in time with his deep breaths. It was oddly calming and brought her some form of comfort.

"What the hell is going on here!" Rick yelled, taking in the scene.

"That stupid bitch," Mr. Sleezeball growled, "has forgotten her place!"

Emily looked over to Rick with wide eyes while his flickered back and forth between her and Mr. Sleezeball.

"Get out," Rick said, and for once she couldn't have been happier to hear him talk. "Get your shit. I'll mail you your last paycheck." Immediately her head snapped up.

"Excuse me?" "You can't be serious!" Her and Jimmy exclaimed at the same time.

"Leave before I decide to keep your pay and put it towards damages," he grumbled.

"You stupid son of a-" Jimmy's hand covered her mouth and he quickly ushered an irate Emily out of the room and into the kitchen.

"What the fuck, Jimmy!" She screeched, pulling her face away from his hand. Has everyone lost their fucking minds?

"Listen, you need that last paycheck. Don't fuck around, just get out of here."

She stared into his eyes and could see that there was no room to argue. Setting her jaw and throwing him an icy glare, she turned to grab her bag and quickly made her way out of that godforsaken place.

As usual, it was raining as she made her way back to the apartment. As she walked, the whole thing finally set in and her anger began to build. Who the fuck do they think they are? What makes them better than me, for them to talk to me that way, she fumed. That's right, she let out a humorless chuckle. I'm a twenty seven year old working in a pizza shop. Well now I'm a twenty seven year old who used to work at a pizza shop and is now unemployed. And just as quick as her anger rose, it quickly withered away to disbelief and a strange sense of dread settled in. Well, fuck me.

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day. A week later and Emily found herself laying in bed counting as many raindrops hitting her window as she could. She had spent the past week searching for jobs but word had spread about the incident and people weren't willing to take her on. Emily had enough money for this month's rent and bills plus a little extra but after that she'd be tapped out. Jimmy had offered millions of times to help out, but pride was one of the few things she had left and she wasn't about to give that up anytime soon. There were a few clubs on the other side of town that she was going to try out, see if any of them would be willing to hire her. They were a little seedier than what she would have liked but at this point being picky was just something she couldn't afford.

Do those fuckers own every club on the strip, she mentally huffed. The last four clubs had practically kicked her out on her ass as soon as she introduced herself. Sighing, she made her way towards the last place on the list.

Grin & Bare It.

She had saved this one for last hoping that she wouldn't have to resort to it but apparently the universe had other plans. Emily knew who owned the club, you'd have to be a complete moron to not know who owned it. He was somebody you made sure you knew about, you never wanted to be caught off guard when it came to him. And here she was, about to walk into the lion's den.

Emily pulled on the heavy door with a sigh and made her way inside. "Jesus Christ," she mumbled, taking in the environment. Cages hung from the ceiling, no doubt for exotic dancers, while the walls were lined with booths adorned with deep purple leather. A massive dance floor took up the middle of the club and on the far wall, a bar that expanded the entire length. A burly man was sitting on one of the stools looking over a bunch of papers.

She cleared her throat and quickly caught his attention. Pulling her shoulders back, she made her way towards the man. "Excuse me, I'm here about the waitressing position."

"Yea, and what's your name?" He grunted, turning his gaze back to the papers he was previously going over.

"Emily and I have waitressing experience so you wouldn't really need to spend a lot of time training me or anything." He grunted again but didn't even spare her a glance. Fuck this bullshit. At this point she was cranky and hungry and in no mood to be disrespected. She had spent the entire day being disrespected and was beyond over it. "You could at least look at me and pretend to take me seriously," she snapped.

He looked up at and barked out a laugh. "Who taught you how to try to woo over a possible employer?"

"Clearly I missed that lesson when I dropped out of high school," She bit out. Normally that wouldn't be something that she disclosed but she was over giving a shit. She met his eyes and refused to back down first. He had a shit eating grin on his face, clearly there was a joke that she wasn't in on. Just then a phone rang and he turned away, simply dismissing her. At that moment, an unsettling feeling settled over her body, like a fine mist. You know, that feeling of being watched but you can't figure out where the eyes are coming from. "Fuck this," she muttered, followed by a defeated sigh. Obviously this was just another waste of time and there was no need for her to stand there like an idiot.

She was almost out the doors when his voice called out, "hey girly!"

"It's Emily."

"Whatever, you're hired...girly."

"Really?" He nodded and before she could stop herself, she rushed over to him and threw her arms around him thanking him profusely. This is what I've been reduced to, hugging a random stranger just because I got a shitty waitressing job. Even though it wasn't glamorous, it was going to feed her and at this point she didn't care about anything. "Thank you, Mr. ...?" She trailed off realizing that she never got his name.

"Craig. And don't hug me. You start tomorrow, club opens up at nine, be here at six so we can get you a uniform and show you the ropes."

A simple nod was her reply and she rushed out of the club before she could make a bigger fool out of herself. It wasn't until the fresh air swept over her did she notice that the unsettling feeling finally went away.