Pittsburgh, PA - Saturday, May 11, 2013

"Gimmie a double of Jack, and a single for your pretty little self there." The older man smiled down at the bartender working the main bar at Deuce's Wild, a crazy sort of place with all sorts of entertainment.

"Awe, Ernie, you're so sweet," the bartender smiled at him and poured the drinks the man ordered. She toasted him and took her own shot before moving down the line to take care of two college aged guys.

Roque Harris was 22 and did her best to take care of the rowdy crowd hanging out at Deuce's that night. Deuce's Wild had something for everyone. There were pool tables, and a dance floor; but the main attraction was the fighting. It had its own octagon that usually housed amateur MMA fights every Friday and Saturday night. But once a month the women got a chance to get in there and show the people what they had. Roque grinned. She was undefeated in the cage for the 11 months she'd been working against the women, although every month, a new woman came and tried her luck.

"When're you gonna fight again, Rocket?" one of the college guys asked.

"Next Saturday Jeremy. I hear this girl they've found is pretty good." She replied as she passed him another Iron City.

"When're you gonna let me take you to dinner, Roque my love?"

"Oh, Mitch, you flatterer, what would your wife say?" Roque flirted with the 65 year old man as she gave him the Whiskey sour he ordered and kept moving.

The night wrapped up and soon people were leaving, passing her generous tips and calling goodbye to her. Roque got everything cleaned up, totaled out the register behind the bar and headed up to the office to pass the cash off to the owner.

"Donnie, here's the cash from the bar," she called as she knocked.

In his early 50's Donovan "Deuce" Lennox was the epitome of a very strong man slightly gone soft. He had piercing blue eyes and short brown hair flecked with silver.

"Rocket my girl, how'd we do tonight?"

"Couple thousand, not bad considering the two guys that fought tonight were shitty." She replied, handing over the canvas envelope and the paper with the register's calculations on it.

"Shitty? You don't think that's a bit harsh?" he smirked. The girl had such an eye for fighters that he knew that she was right.

"No, Donnie. They were shitty. They wouldn't make it in a real fight against me, let alone a PRIDE or a UFC fighter. Their intensity and drive was crap, and they didn't even look like they could run around the cage 10 times let alone do a solid couple of miles."

Deuce let the girl finish her analysis as he checked the total on the register's report versus the amount of money in the envelope she'd given him.

"Get the hell out of here, Rocket. We'll see you next Friday, yeah?"

Roque nodded, collected her jacket and belongings from behind the bar, and left, waving goodbye to the bouncers who were still outside making sure there weren't any drunks acting like idiots nearby.

Roque walked for about 10 minutes until she came to her apartment building. It was a 4th floor walk-up with only one bedroom that she shared with two other people, but it was clean.

Both of her roommates were still awake and playing an old Playstation 2 they'd bought for $40 at the Exchange.

"Hey Rocket, how was work?" Damien had been there for Rion since the first day she'd wound up in Pittsburgh. He'd taught her how to be not just book smart, but street smart. Even though he was 6 years older than her, they had a weird on-again, off-again sort of relationship.

"It was alright, I did about 175 in tips," she replied as she headed back towards the bedroom. She pealed off the leather pants she'd worn to work as well as the child-sized Steelers jersey that stopped a bit below her breasts. Slipping on a pair of grey sweats and a clean sports bra she made her way back out to the living room.

"How'd you do tonight, Jesse?" Roque asked the blonde sitting beside Damien.

"I did a bachelor party tonight with only one other girl. I cleaned up pretty good," Jesse shrugged. Jesse was a 5'9 145 pound bombshell. She had an amazing figure, one that was obviously built for sin, and she made tons of money as a stripper. Jesse was between the ages of Roque and Damien, and she'd hooked up with them one night after Roque beat up some guy who was harassing her at Duce's where she moonlighted as a ring girl.

The three all spent a little time playing the game system before going to bed.

Roque woke up from her spot in the main bedroom where she was cuddled against Damien's back. She climbed over him and took a hot shower, washing the smell of alcohol and cigarettes out of her hair.

Roque stood in front of the mirror and inspected her body. She was tall, probably reaching about 5'9 just like Jesse, but her build was completely different. Roque was mainly muscle, with defined abs, muscular arms and legs and a round but firm behind. Her chest was about average, which suited her just fine; too much would get in the way of fighting. A silver hoop went through the right side of her bottom lip, and a bright red jewel sat in her navel. She dressed for the day in a pair of denim shorts that bared a lot of leg, and a dark grey tank top that showed off bits and pieces of the tattoos she'd collected over the years.

She had a Heart with a sword through it on her right thigh. A shake was wrapped around the sword in an exact replica of a tattoo belonging to someone very dear to her. She also had a trail of interlocking stars in many sizes starting from where her bra would end all the way down to where her panties usually started. But the crown jewel of her tattoos was on her back. She had a massive pair of angel's wings done on her back to cover up the scars there. They'd taken over 5 different 4 hour sessions to complete and a shit load of pain on her part. But they looked sick when she wore a bikini.

Roque weaved her dark red hair into a plait before grabbing her bus pass, backpack and cell phone and leaving the apartment. It was Sunday afternoon, and she had a lot of working out to do, especially with a fight in just 6 days.

A 20 minute bus ride and 4 minute walk found her at the YMCA where she got changed in a pair of biker shorts and a sports bra. She hit the weights and did massive cardio while her mp3 player pounded music in her ears. She was a little over halfway through her 6 mile run when she noticed a dark haired man wave at her from across the cardio area. She gave him a crooked grin and held up two fingers, signaling how many more miles she had left. She laughed when she read his lips.

"You have 10 minutes."

Roque gave him the finger and then upped the speed for the last couple of miles she had left. When she was finished she grabbed her orange Gatorade and followed him to another area of the facilities that held punching bags and other equipment.

"Took you long enough, Rocket." He teased as he greeted her with a friendly squeeze.

"I only took 7 Potter, so fuck off." She laughed.

Benjamin Logan was 6'4, 265 pounds of long, lean muscle. He had piercing green eyes, bright, and jewel toned. His black hair stuck up in every which direction, and if you asked Roque, all he was missing was a pair of round glasses and a lightening bolt scar, hence his nickname. He was her favorite trainer at the Y.

"You fighting next week, babe?" he asked as she pulled off her shoes and socks and pulled on ankle guards.

"In exactly 6 days. And I want a knockout in the first round."

"You could pull it off if anyone could," he laughed at her as they got in a boxing ring, the Y didn't exactly have a cage. "We're gonna work on your grappling today. You can strike with the best of them, obviously; but that's because you were a boxer first. You have to know how to work on the floor better if you wanna be a well-rounded fighter. "

Roque grumbled under her breath good naturedly before locking up with the larger man.

After well over an hour of working with Ben, Roque found herself in the women's locker room changing into her favorite bikini after a quick rinse in the showers. She thought that the black top covered in multi colored splatters and matching bottoms set her tattoos and tanned skin off perfectly. After diving right in, and swimming a quick 10 or so laps, she felt like she'd cooled down enough. She loved swimming after a hard workout; it stretched out all of her muscles, and let her do it in a low-impact way. After a quick wash and shampoo with special stuff for her color-treated hair, she re-dressed and headed for home.

She got home around 7 or so, and smiled when Jesse had dinner going. Home made Steak Hoagies sounded perfect after a workout like she'd just had. The girls finished up dinner together just as Damien came in from the store. Damien and Roque both had work the next day, so they didn't stay up too late.

Roque worked for a local promoter named Jerry who did his best to bring great concerts to the city. He had contacts everywhere and Roque's – along with 3 other people's, main job was keeping him organized. Jerry organized concerts for all genres of music, and also did great parties some weekends at local clubs as well as after parties for promotions he'd brought in.

"Miss Harris, aren't you looking lovely this morning," Dave, one of her co-workers grinned at her. Roque laughed at him before looking down at her attire; Black knee shorts, a Beatles t-shirt and flip flops. Her hair was in a high ponytail.

"Dave, I look like my outfit came from Wal-Mart…actually, this outfit DID come from Wal-Mart."

"Anyway, we have 4 different shows lined up, and you are in charge of keeping this one organized." Dave handed her a portfolio.

"Wiz Khalifa is coming back home. This is a huge party. I mean huge. And it's in 2 months. How am I gonna pull this one off alone?"

"Well, Parker's on this one with you."

"So we have to keep Wiz's flight in check, his Hotel, the opening Act…some group from Texas somewhere, doesn't say, and all of their travel info, and on top of that, we have to make sure that the backstage is taken care of, and that the After Party is well organized."

"This is gonna be on a Saturday isn't it?" Roque groaned.

"Yup."

"I'm gonna miss a day at Duece's." she whined, she loved her second job at the bar.

"And you better make sure if you fight that month it's after this event. You can't do your job with a black eye, Roque" A voice interrupted from behind them.

Jerry Wilkinson was a young-ish guy of unknown ethnicity. He was clearly mixed with…somethingand something else. His skin was a light as Roque's, and his eyes a shocking grey, but his hair kind of reminded Roque of that kid from the Holes movie she'd seen as a kid. He was in his early 30s with a sort of…douche-bag air about him.

Roque rolled her eyes at the older man before picking up the phone. She made calls to both talents' agents, booking the planes and hotels. After that, she made sure of any ridiculous requests that the artists made would be taken care of by Parker, the other girl on the project. After that, she set about looking through Jerry's contacts to find a perfect spot for the concert's official After Party.

It was pretty dull work, but it paid the bills, and kept her from having a job like Jesse. She left work around 4:30 and headed towards the bus stop to get home, a pretty long journey considering she had to go from a semi-nice, quiet neighborhood on one side of town and catch two busses to get downtown to connect to the bus that would take her to her own rather shabby neighborhood.

But that was what she loved about Pittsburgh. The city was small, but still big enough to get lost in. There were so many kinds of neighborhoods filled with so many kinds of people. She'd had a couple of minor incidents over the years but nothing that made her consider leaving and choosing another city. It was a great city that had done her a lot of good over the last 2 years.

When she got home and changed into sweats, she found Damien on the couch drinking a beer.

"Hey how was work?"

"Not bad, Jerry put me and Parker in charge of Wiz Khalifa's homecoming concert; which means I'm gonna get to baby sit a stoned rapper and all of his stupid friends for a day. Parker will do the other night. What about you," she asked as she climbed into his lap, her head resting on his collar bone. "How was your day?"

Damien worked part time as a line cook at a hotel downtown. He spent the other half of his day as a security guard at Macy's.

"Hot and busy, and then quiet and boring, like always," he replied adjusting her body so that he could still see the tv and drink his beer. "Hey babe?"

"Hmm?" her eyes never left the episode of 2 Broke girls that he was watching.

"You okay, living like this, I mean? I mean, yeah we're a lot better than we were when we met 2 years ago, but don't you think you deserve better than this? Don't you wanna go to college or something?"

"You trying to get rid of me, D?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Not at all, I really dig you, you know that. I was just thinking, you're barely 22, and you had to grow up quick. " he shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to give you a chance that I never did."

"Damien, I got my GED because of you, remember? I couldn't get anything better than a burger gig before that. I got this job working for Jerry because of that."

"Well that and the old pervert wants to get in your pants."

"No, it's that, and I can type, I know how to talk to people, and I can usually get what I want, Idiot." She punched him in the arm at the last word.

"Is that so, so what do you want right now?"

"That's easy." She grinned teasingly. "A cold beer." She stood up and grabbed a bottle of Rolling Rock out of the fridge before joining him on the couch again.

The pair were tight. A year ago, before Jesse'd showed up, there'd been Angel, a tough guy from Philly who was just passing through. And before him, there was Tanner.

Tanner'd been with Damien before Roque had even showed up. But she'd gotten into trouble.

On a routine shoplifting job (once Roque's original money had run out, they'd gone through a tough spot) at a grocery store, Tanner, who already thought that she could get away with murder, got sloppy. She got cocky, got stupid. She took an unnecessary risk, and she'd gotten caught trying to steal a doughnut from the "help yourself" section of the bakery. Security found everything else she'd been stashing in her backpack, and called the police. She'd been sent to Juvie, and Roque barely got away without being seen.

Jesse came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt with the pepsi symbol on it. Her hair was elaborately curled, her make-up done to perfection. The see-through platform heels gave it away to where she was headed.

"Have a good night at work, Jess," Damien grunted from where he and Roque were cuddled on the couch watching an old dvd. Jesse grabbed a small duffel and blew a kiss to the pair, leaving the apartment to head for the club she danced at.

Cuddling into the warmth of Damien's chest, Roque took another sip of her beer.

"Hey D?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled warmly, pressing a kiss into her hair. "I love you too, kid."

Little did Roque know, things in her world were going to change.

Very soon.

AS/N: So, at this moment, Rion is 17, posing as a 22 year old working 2 jobs, one she really likes at a bar, and the other, as a promoter's assistant getting bands and rappers to come perform in Pittsburgh, and planning the stripper-filled after parties.

I want you guys to keep in mind that this fic will be a lot different, and a little dark. Roque is not Rion. Well, she is, but Roque is the embodiment of everything Rion wanted to be when she was held captive; Strong, smart, cunning, able to take care of herself, and a fighter. She hasn't had anyone to guide or raise her since she was 14 years old, (remember, she had her 15th birthday while held by her father) and before that, only 3 years of proper guidance. So theoretically, she's raised herself.

She may not be completely out of control, but this fic will have a teenager drinking, cursing, having sex, and even referencing to experimenting with drugs. She's still very much a child in need of a family.

Next chapter will be up just after New Year, so Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and Happy Kwanza. I don't think I missed anything, but either way, have a safe and wonderful holiday!

Nique