"Hey, miss...?" You turned towards the blond, continuing to polish a whiskey plate. His girlfriend, a promiscuous woman with black curls and carmine lips, was looking at you distractedly. Girlfriend was a strong word to label her, as it seemed she hadn't wanted to come in the first place.

"Yes?" you said, raising an eyebrow at the male. It seemed to take him a long time to speak.

"I...just wanted to ask about your, um... leg," he muttered.

"What about it?" you asked with a sigh.

"Were you...born without it like us?"

"No," you replied, finishing the glass and walking in your stunted gait to a customer that had called for more beer. A lot of the patrons called you "peggie", on account of your pegleg, and since you hardly bothered to correct them, many of them thought it was actually your name. Only the owner of the bar really referred to you by your real name.

You poured alcohol for several of the gentlemen before collecting a number of glasses from leaving patrons, as well as generous tips. Why? Maybe they felt bad for you. You didn't care. You had a job, and that was more than a lot of people here had.

When you returned to behind the counter, the blond's attention was immediately focused on you.

"What?" you asked with a sigh, sorting several of the glasses behind the counter by size and shape.

"You...live so normally..."

"Yes, I do," you replied, closing your eyes.

"Hey, Peggie! Another round!"

"Coming," you called, taking a bottle and ambling back again.

"Only one leg, and she moves that well," you heard the male mumble to himself.

"Thanks," the man said as you filled his and his friends' glasses, and you gave him a smile and a nod. "Oh, and before I forget, is something wrong, Pegs? You seem a little down today."

"It's nothing major," you replied with a reassuring smile. Truthfully, you wanted to take a rest, but your shift ended in another hour; you could hold out for longer. "Please enjoy." That was another thing you were grateful for. People liked you. They asked about you. They came back to the bar. Maybe it was just your missing limb, but you were thankful for it.

Eventually, most of the normal customers had their fun and left, and 15 minutes away from the end of your shift, only two remained, the man and the woman who hadn't moved for the past hour, one of which was definitely drunk mumbling something about Joker.

"Don't you think you should take your girl home?" you asked, placing your elbow on the counter to regard the blond.

"Well, she's...not my girl exactly..."

"Joker, where are you going... I want to go too..." she mumbled, and judging by the helpless expression the male briefly shot you, you were going to guess 'Joker' wasn't his name.

"Er, my name's Dagger, by the way. This is Beast."

"Ah, yes, you're part of that traveling circus people have been talking about," you mused, recalling their names. "You're free to call me Peggie."

"That's not your real name, is it?" Dagger asked a bit sadly, and you smiled softly.

"No," you replied. "But is Dagger your real name?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Then is there really a problem as long as I'm fine with it?"

"I...guess not?"

"And even though Beast isn't your girlfriend, don't you think that as a friend, you should take her home anyway?" you asked with the same slight smile.

"Are you just trying to get rid of me?"

"Maybe," you teased. "Don't tell me you're not strong enough to carry her?"

"I'm strong!" he protested, and you chuckled a little. "I just want one more drink."

"Have it your way," you replied. "What will you have?"

"Vanya Roze," he replied, and you raised an eyebrow at him but made no comment as your poured him a glass. It was a drink that was typically more popular with women, so it wasn't making his point any stronger.

He set his money on the counter and passed the drink you had just poured back to you with a slightly impish smile, and you laughed. His cheeks seemed to have tinted pink at that. Cute.

"A present from me," Dagger said.

"I can't drink on the job."

"But you're off the job in a couple minutes, right? Besides, what no one sees won't hurt, right?" Dagger winked at you.

"I suppose not," you replied, picking up the glass and taking a few sips. "You remarked that you and Beast were born without legs," you said.

"Yeah. Mine on the right and hers on the left," Dagger said. "We grew up pretty awful, which is why I asked about yours."

"Let's just say I was lucky," you said with a smile. "The owner of this bar is very kind and volunteered to rehire me when I came back to England." At Dagger's confused look, you gave him a little smile. "I was on a ship bound for America, but I was unlucky enough to be in the way when a roguish man carrying a rifle told us to surrender, and he blasted through my kneecap as a warning. Fortunately, he was killed soon after, but to keep the few of us that had been shot alive, we had to turn back."

You winced, a hand absentmindedly going to the place where the stump of your leg met the prosthetic, if it could be called that. You could still remember how hard you had screamed because of the overwhelming pain. It was a miracle you had survived.

"Sorry," Dagger apologized. "I didn't know..." You reached out and lightly slapped his cheek, smiling at him still.

"Don't be sorry; it's not your fault. And frankly, I am glad just to be alive, no matter what anyone says. In any case, I do need to clean up the bar and shut down for the morning, so—"

"Can I help you?" Dagger interrupted suddenly, standing. "It's not for pay or anything, it's just... I want to help. Please?" You sighed, giving Dagger a resigned look, seeing how determined he was.

"Alright," you replied. "Start collecting the remaining glasses." Dagger did as asked, grabbing each of them and carrying them over to you quickly as you started to clean the countertops.

"Next?" he prompted as he waited around, looking around for something else he could do.

"Think you can manage wiping down the tables?" you asked, offering a warm rag, and he nodded quickly before he started cleaning them diligently and returning faster than you expected.

"Next?"

"Mop the floors," you said, cleaning the glasses one by one before drying them.

"Next?"

You glanced up from your last glass to see Dagger still waiting, although some perspiration had gathered on his brow, and you couldn't help a little chuckle. It could have been just your imagination, but it seemed like he was trying to impress you.

"Have a drink and take your girlfriend home," you responded, and you watched with amusement as Dagger gratefully drank several sips of your drink before confusion stole over his face at the taste, and he realized it was yours, and he tried to apologize with his face pink, but you were already pushing him out laughing. "Please come back again, Dagger, and play a game of darts with me."

"Darts?" he asked from the doorway, and you gestured to the board that had been hung on the wall a few weeks ago. "I think that might be a bit unfair to you; I throw knives..."

"But not darts. I'll give you a run for your money; sound good?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"What does it sound like?"

"A challenge."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," you replied with a wink, knowing he wouldn't resist the provocation.

"See you tomorrow?" You couldn't help a giggle from escaping your lips as you locked the door, seeing a glimpse of Dagger's bemused expression before you turned toward home.

"Yes, tomorrow."