It was hot. No, it was offensively hot. Madripoor was always stifling, but something about tonight was so much more disgusting than normal. As the neon sign reading The Princess Bar glows above Naomi Khane, a bead of sweat drips down her spine that has nothing to do with the sweltering air.
She steps inside, nearly a half hour before her client requested her, and immediately heads for the bar.
“Double whiskey, any kind you've got,” she tells Tyger Tiger, who raises an eyebrow.
“Been a while since you've been here,” she comments, grabbing a glass and pouring her drink. “Having fun tonight, or…?”
“Work,” she deadpans, taking the icy glass between her hands and frowning at the wooden surface of the bar.
Tyger hums sadly and reaches out to pat her hand. Naomi gives her a small smile before tipping the glass back and downing half of it in one go.
“How much longer ‘til the poor bastard shows up?”
She glances at the clock behind the bar and winces. “About 25 minutes.”
“Then for the next 24, yours are on the house,” she declares, waving away her immediate attempt to protest. “With what you do, I shouldn't be charging you at all.”
Before she could thank her, a man slid onto the stool beside her. Naomi tensed, but as he spoke, she knew he couldn't be her client; he hadn’t given her a second of attention.
“In that case, put all my drinks on her tab until then,” he growls, but she catches the ghost of a smile on his lips as he takes a sip of his drink.
Tyger rolls her eyes and playfully swats her dish towel at him. “Patch, play nice, or as nice as you're capable of. This one's got a long night ahead. Needs all the liquid courage I can give.”
Naomi shyly smiles, anxiety settling in her chest as she glances back at the clock. “Helping me drink myself stupid would be even better,” she mutters, draining the remnants and tapping the bar twice.
The man beside her furrows his brow and gives her a sideways glance. “Not sure whatcha do, but if it's that bad, shit, I'll pay whatever you'd make tonight.”
She laughs harshly as Tyger refills her glass and stares daggers at Patch. “Yeah, well, technically I make $380 an hour, but I only end up getting about half of that by the end of the night.” Naomi turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “I was booked for six.”
He finally turns to fully face her, shamelessly looking her up and down before meeting her eye with a smirk. “Six hours at that rate, must be pretty good.”
She hums, bringing her glass to her lips. The way his uncovered eye follows the movement doesn't escape her and she lowers the glass with a knowing smile. “I'd say my track record would prove you right, but there's really only one way to find out, isn't there?”
He grins, keeping her eyes locked on him, almost daring her to look away. Tyger glances between the pair. “Be careful there, Patch,” she warns with a smile, “she might just charge you for that eye-fuck.”
That surprises Naomi enough to break the stare and shoot her gaze to Tyger, who only winks before turning her attention to the other end of the bar.
To her right, Patch lets out a low laugh that she mirrors before tipping her drink towards him. “It's been a while since I've laughed on a work night. I needed that, thank you.”
He huffs, the corners of his lips still curled as he tilts his towards her. “Then it's a good thing I came over to butt in, huh sweetheart?”
Naomi rolls her eyes before they take a sip in tandem. “So…Patch, right? I assume that's because of the…” she gestures towards his covered eye.
He slowly nods, the expression on his face falling just slightly. “Yeah, I uh…got hurt on the job a while back, fucked up my eye pretty good, so now…” he mirrors her gesture around his eyepatch.
“I assume I can't know your name, what with you workin’ tonight, right?”
It's her turn to nod, tapping the table for another drink. “Quick learner, Patch. Nice to know not everyone in this godforsaken town is obsessed with finding me.”
His brow furrows. “Findin’ you? No offense, sweetheart, but who's tryin’ to find you?”
She half shrugs, staring into the bottom of her glass. “Clients,” she replies softly. “Sometimes they don't get that sex is just my job, and they get a little…” her arm instinctively folds across her stomach, fingers curling into the silken fabric of her dress. “Possessive, I guess.”
Naomi couldn't muster the courage to look back at Patch, his silence making her want to be anywhere but where she is.
“They find you just to hurt you?”
The question comes out as more of a snarl and she nods absently. “Sometimes. Other times it's to threaten or try to blackmail me, but what they have isn't enough to ruin me, I've already done that for them.”
Naomi can feel Patch's eye on her and she finally turns back to him. “But, hey, it's good pay for not having to do that much work, and if I get a few bruises here and there, that seems worth it. ‘S not like I lost an eye, you know?” She tries to smile through her joke, but the ache in her side cuts it short.
“Yeah, well…if you need any help with one of those clients of yours, you let Tyger know and I'll take care of ‘em.” He pulls a thick cigar from his jacket pocket, reaching behind the bar to snatch an ashtray when Tyger Tiger isn't looking. “Gotta light, kid?”
Getting called ‘kid’ by a man who just threatened to kill her source of income should've been enough to make Naomi at least switch barstools; but something about his sincerity in wanting to help her made her reach into her bag to look for her lighter. When she pulled it out and flicked it to life, she leaned in at the same time Patch did, her knees barely brushing against his. She held her hand next to the flame, protecting it from blowing out and glanced up at him. His eyes were closed as the cigar caught and he growled low in his throat as he tilted his head back to blow the smoke into the air. Her gaze trailed from the wisp of smoke down to the bob of his Adam's apple when he cleared his throat and her eyes snapped up to his. The cigar was loosely held in his hand and he grinned as he caught her staring. “What? Gettin’ jealous?”
Naomi sat back, sliding her lighter back into her bag before matching his grin and taking a drink. “Only in your dreams, handsome.”
He raised an eyebrow with a shrug, flipping the unlit end towards her and holding it out. “Here. Figure you could use a smoke before whatever asshole bought you shows up.”
She hesitates for just a second before leaning forward again, taking the cigar between her lips. A sense of satisfaction courses through her veins when his eyes widen slightly as she pulls back with it, savoring the taste before pulling the cigar out and blowing the smoke away from them. She notes the deep red ring her lipstick left behind and passes it back to Patch with a satisfied smirk. “Thanks, baby,” she purrs, feeling the liquor start to assuage her anxieties. “I'll have to come back to find you again.”
He nods, turning the cigar in his fingers and trying desperately not to think of the way she had looked with it between her lips. “I tend to end up here no matter what I do, so I'm sure I'll catch you again.”
She laughs lightly, reaching out to place a hand over his knee. “I'm sure I'll let you.”
Before Patch could even think of something to say, a man walks right up to them and grabs Naomi by the arm. “Well, there's my gorgeous girl, let me see ya,” he slurs, clearly already drunk as he yanks her to her feet. “You're…early, Ernest.” Naomi shoots Patch an apologetic smile before shoving the man's other hand away from her hem line. “ Hey, hey! We both know that Selby says anything in public is triple the normal rate,” she snaps through a sickly sweet smile. Ernest scoffs and roughly spins her to face Patch once again. “One a these days you'll say yes, gorgeous,” he grossly nips at her ear and pulls her back flush against his chest, pawing at her hips. Naomi winces, angling her head away from him, and Patch sees red. His claws slide out and he steps down from the stool before feeling a hand on his shoulder.
“Logan, don't,” Tyger Tiger hisses, eyes never leaving Naomi and Ernest. Patch tries to shrug her hand off, but the bartender's grip only grows tighter.
“And why the fuck shouldn't I turn this dickhead inside out?” Logan growled.
“Because it'll just make things worse for her after they leave.” She gently pulls back on Patch's suit jacket and he lets her pull him back onto the bar stool.
As Naomi opens her eyes again, she meets Patch's eye and nods subtly. I'm okay.
He takes a stilted breath as Ernest grabs ahold of her other arm and pulls her out of the bar. He can hear them both get into a shitty car and speed away.
It isn't until he turns back to face the bar that Tyger lets go of him. “That’s her most volatile client. The worse night he has, the more it shows up on her,” she explains as Patch’s claws slowly retract. “She'll come back. She always does after working with a client, especially Ernest.”
Logan growls again, but Tyger just holds up a hand and refills his whiskey. “She seemed to relax around you,” she comments, taking Naomi’s glass and cleaning it. “Don't scare her, Patch. She needs a friend aside from me, and while I'd normally advise anyone to stay away from you…” she sets the glass aside and stares at the door, seemingly lost in thought. “She didn't open up to me like that until 2 years after she started working for Selby, nearly 5 years after we met.” She finally looks back at him, a sad, almost desperate look in her eyes. “You're the only person I trust enough to look after her when I can't. To take care of what I can't.”
He nods slowly, knocking back the rest of his drink and snubbing out the cigar. “Got a place for an old man to rest until she gets back?”
~
Naomi's phone reads 4:03 am when the steady breathing from behind tells her Ernest is finally asleep. She carefully slides out of the bed, wincing at what she's sure will be bruises in the morning. Slowly, she gathers her clothes, pulling them on as quietly as possible before slipping out of the apartment. She sighs heavily as she descends the stairs and steps out onto the street. Hopefully Ty hasn't left yet, I don't know if I can make it back home.
With it being so late, Naomi thankfully didn't encounter anyone until she stumbled into The Princess.
“Last call was 3 hours ago!” Tyger shouts from the back. “Come back tomorrow or I'll-”
She freezes watching Naomi’s uneven gait as she makes her way to the bar. Tyger gasps softly as she comes fully into the light and rushes around the counter to help ease her into a seat.
Before she can say a word, Naomi shakily holds up a hand. “I promise you, Ty, it hurts worse than it looks. I just need a drink and a bed. I'll be fine in the morning.”
She can see the way her friend’s eyes flit from her steadily bruising eye to the split in her lip to the torn collar of her shirt. When her eyes meet Naomi’s again, the call girl gives the barest shake of her head. “Not tonight. Please.”
She slowly nods, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before pouring the shot of whisky. As she hands it over she nods her head towards the ceiling. “Room’s ready for you. I'll finish up down here then head out, but you have to stay here until I get back.”
Naomi nods, sighing heavily as the whiskey burns down her aching throat. “Thanks again, Ty,” she mutters, sliding off the stool and making her way up the stairs.
Tyger Tiger watches her until she can only listen to her footsteps that carry her to your unofficial room above the bar. She shakes her head while she cleans and puts away the last of the glasses. Protect her, Logan.
~
Naomi's movements were slow, leaning heavily on the wall for support. She'd be shocked if her legs weren't bruised in the morning. Patch must've really gotten under his skin tonight. She just barely manages to get into the room and lock the door behind her when h3r legs give out, sending her face first onto the bed with a groan. For a few minutes she can't get her body to move. All she can do is lay there and take long, shaking breaths as she begs her racing mind to still. It was always like this after a client. Especially the violent ones. Especially Ernest.
“It's over,” she tells herself quietly, stiffly hugging her legs to her chest. “I'm okay now.”
~
She wasn't sure how long she had laid there, softly repeating that simple mantra, but when her eyes open there’s bright sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtain and the sounds of Madripoorian life on the street below.
With a hiss she stretches her aching legs out and pushes herself up to sit against the pillows. After giving herself a minute for her body to relax, she made her way up and around the room, gathering what she needed to get ready for the day.
Right as she pulled a civilian outfit from the chest of drawers, Naomi flinched at a rough knock on her door.
“Hey, kid, ‘s me,” the gruff voice called, and she felt like she could cry from relief. Without a second thought she unlocked and opened the door to Patch.
“How'd you know I was here?” She pushes the door fully opened before sitting back on the bed.
Patch steps into the doorway and leans against the frame. “Tyger said you come back here after work.” He nods his head towards her, feeling his blood boil at the deep purple marks that littered her exposed skin and gritted his teeth. “I take it he doesn't play much nicer in private than he does in public.”
It suddenly occurs to Naomi that she never changed the night before, her short dress exposing the growing bruises on her legs, arms, chest, neck, and eye. She grabs the blanket and folds it over her legs, avoiding Patch's eye. “He, uh…hasn't seen me in a while, tends to…,” she swallows thickly, feeling the stinging on tears in the corners of her eyes. “Tends to like to “mark what's his” as he puts it.” She licks at her lip, wincing quietly at the metallic tang of dried blood. “I think he forgets I'm not one of the sex-droids, I still feel everything he does,” she adds quietly.
Patch feels his lip curl, but fights to keep the claws retracted. Don't scare her, Patch Tyger's voice echoes in his head. He gently clears his throat and when Naomi looks up, glassy eyed like a frightened animal he feels like he's seeing himself at eight years old, terrified of the life ahead of him. “Hey, kid,” he begins gently, gesturing to the spot beside her on the bed before he moves. She blankly nods, eyes falling to the floor. He moves to close the door and her head snaps back up. "No! No, please, just…leave it open.”
He takes his hand off the handle and gently sits next to her, keeping himself from brushing against her. “I'm not great at this whole “comfort” thing, but I…I know what it's like to be forced to do shit you don't want to. To have those reminders on you forever, even when you can't see ‘em.” He moved his hands out in front of him, curled his fists, and slowly extended his claws.
Naomi’s eyes widened as they clicked to a stop, watching as they glinted in the light. “Does…do they hurt?”
He smiled sadly as they retracted, nodding slowly. “Every time.”
He pulled a leg up onto bed as he faced her, and waited until she had focused on him. “I want you to know that I'm not gonna try any shit with you, kid. I get what's going on, to an extent, and I wanted to let you know that if you needed a grumpy old fuck to sit with you or wait outside of wherever you are, if it makes you feel safer, I'll do it.”
Naomi's gaze travels from the space between his knuckles up to his uncovered eye and searches it for any sign of a lie. She wasn't a mutant, despite her best efforts, but she knew how to read people. She could recognize the look of a liar, could see the tells in their body language. But Patch…there was nothing but concern. Real, genuine concern for her. Naomi feels a tear slide down her cheeks, and before she could think about it, she moves forward and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
For a minute he was stunned; a man on the run from various world governments, known throughout Madripoor for his ruthlessness, his willingness to pick a fight where nobody else would be dumb enough to try, was being hugged. He kept his arms out, seeing if she would let go, but when she tightened her grip and her shoulders began to shake, he gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close enough that she was practically in his lap.
And there they sit, for a minute, five, fifteen. Logan holding her as tightly as he can without causing her to hiss in pain, and Naomi sobbing. After a while, he gently smooths down her hair and murmurs, “I know…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
She softly whimpers against his arm and he lightly pulls her off of him. “Hey, look at me, kid,” he lightly lifts her chin with his fingertips and she takes a shuddering breath, lashes clumping together as she meets his eye.
“Why don't you go change into something less dressy and we can stay here as long as you want, alright?”
“You…you'll be right outside the door, right?” She asks in a small voice, and he nods.
“You need anything, darlin’, just call my name and I'll come runnin'.”
The corners of her mouth twitch and she nods, letting her hands fall from his neck and slide back into her lap. He stands and holds out a hand, which she takes, leaning heavily on him, but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He helps her gather her things and walks her to the bathroom, leaning against the wall as the lock clicks and the shower starts up. He tries to ignore the soft sigh of content she breaths as the dress falls to the floor, the gentle groan as water hits her skin. He tries harder to ignore the soft hisses of pain that she tries to hide from him.
When the door unlocks and opens, steam billows out around her and he can already see how much better she feels. She shyly smiles at him and he slips an arm around her waist, letting her lean against him as they return to her room. Tossing her clothes into a basket in the corner she curls into a ball as she lays down.
Patch turns to leave once she's settled, But Naomi grabs his wrist before he can. “Please, I…I don't want to be alone right now.”
He nods, moving to the other side of her bed and sitting up, legs stretching out in front of him. She shuffles closer, tugging on the end of his shirt. “Lay down, Patch,” she whines quietly. He laughs softly, sliding down the headboard until he's flat on his back, an arm tucked behind his head. She makes a small noise of satisfaction, moving closer until her head is on his chest and her arm is thrown across his stomach.
He tenses, but as she snuggles closer and her body relaxes, his expression softens. He lets an arm wrap around her shoulders, bringing the hand behind his head to rest over hers.
It was a strange sight that Tyger Tiger stumbled upon an hour later. She wasn't surprised to see Naomi's door open, she usually left it that way once she had gotten up, but she was surprised to see Naomi cuddled against the Wolverine, who was fast asleep with the woman wrapped protectively in his arms.