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Definitely Coincidental

"Beautiful stars tonight," Luce said, her neck craned back to take in the heavens.  D glanced up as well, but wasn't surprised to find that a thick layer of clouds blocked his view, nor was he not expecting the follow-up punch in his arm and snort of "Gullible." Leave it to Luce to break the silence. He gave her a wan smile for her efforts, then offered, "So where is the girl from?"

"Oh, you mean Fina?" replied Luce, her eyes sliding in his direction in a bemused manner.  "I wouldn't take you for the type that cares, but she wouldn't tell me anyways.  She only said she needed help finding someone in the city."

"Her name's Fina?" he asked dubiously, and Luce laughed.

"That's what bothers you?"

"No, just an odd name."

"Like you can talk!" she snorted.

"Yeah, yeah.  So where's she heading?"

"Well, I figured she could stay the night and I'd deal with her in the morning- I had to come deal with you, after all.  After that, my best guess is that she'll head back into the city."

D exhaled through his nose in irritation.  "The idiot is going to get herself killed. I mean, what kind of kid picks a fight with the damn mafia, for gods sake? I'd rather that the little thief would leave altogether."

Luce's eyes sparkled mischievously as she raised an eyebrow.  "That sounds suspiciously like concern.." she teased him in a singsong voice.  D brushed her off with a cool stare of his own.  What the girl did was her own business, not his.  The only reason he had given a shit in the first place was because she had a passing resemblance to someone he knew, but that was behind him now.  They eventually reached his apartment, where they parted for the night with a wave.  There was no need for D to walk her home- everyone knew that Luce was every bit as dangerous as she was pretty, and mugging her was equivalent to signing your own death warrant.  D inserted his key and turned it with a hollow click, opening the door to a quiet, darkened apartment.  The clock on the stove said it was just past midnight, although the microwave begged to differ.  He stripped and fell heavily onto his bed, his muscles throbbing in relief, not bothering to turn on any lights.  "Tired" was not the right word for what state his body was left in after his escapades; it was more like a "exhausting rebellion of every fiber of his being, constantly draining energy" feeling.  He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, pockmarked with water stains and smoke detectors, like it could give him answers.  But the silent blinking of the detector was his only response, the watchful eye unable to do more than observe and alert. 

After a time, his own eyes slipped shut, and he dreamed of flickering lights and grinning monsters looming just beyond their reach, waiting for the time when the light would die to strike.

Cold. It was cold here. And dark. When was the last time they had turned the lights on? Days? Weeks? He didn't know. His arms ached but he couldn't move them without rattling the chains and they were so very loud and grating in the cold darkness. So he stayed still and stared at nothing and everything. They would return soon. They always did.
Thud thud thud at the door. Here they are now. Thud thud thudthudthudthuth

THUD. THUD THUD.
"Hey mister open this door!"
D's eyes twitched, then slowly cracked open to see what had woken him up. He blinked a few times to clear the blurriness, then slowly sat up, wincing as his head throbbed with an instant replay of last night. The continued pounding on his door was not helping. Pushing off the bed to his feet, still wearing sleep-rumpled clothes from yesterday, he shuffled to the door and unlocked it before yanking it open mid-yawn. "Wrong address, please try somewhere else," he mumbled around his stifled yawn, already turning and shutting the door. "No, this is the right one, I'm sure of it," came the response, which at least got his attention enough to stop in his tracks. The only ones who were "sure of his address" were those looking to hire, hurt, or hit him, and it was too goddamn early for this. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut against the oncoming headache before turning back around to face the offender. "Look, if you want to hire me I have a phone number y'know. This isn't a house-call service business buddy," he said irritatedly, leaning against the doorjamb to take a look at the indecorous intruder. He did a double-take, his eyebrows first raising in incredulousness, then drawing downwards in a hostile scowl as he realized his porch sitter was the girl from yesterday. What in the hell was she doing here? No one had his address except- Damn it. Lucy I swear to god we are going to throw down when I see you again he angrily promised himself, then turned his anger on the unwelcome guest. His face settled into a cool expression as he said frostily, "Why are you loitering on my doorstep, little girl?"

"Ok, first of all, I'm not loitering, because I technically know you," she replied quickly, "and second, my name's not little girl, its Fina. And yours is D, right?"

He leveled his gaze at her and said nothing, but she continued on regardless.

"Well, see, the thing is, I really need someone's help, but everyone I've met so far has been... um... busy.. with other stuff.. so.. I really need that someone to be you. Because, y'know, you're pretty strong, and I guess you actually did save me, so you're probably not all that bad, and Luce said if I asked you would probably say yes.. so.. pretty please?" She finished, raising her eyes from her fidgeting fingers to meet his own eyes.

She has got to be joking, D thought. No one is seriously stupid enough to just think that asking for help means that they will help. He gave her a once over, looking into her eyes for a moment before revising his previous thought. Ok. Someone is stupid enough to think that. What kind of naïve ass chick wanders into a city on her own to do this? She's not right in the head.

He huffed disbelievingly and said, "Look kid. Whatever Lucy told you, she was wrong. I will not help you, and I don't care who you are, or why you're here. In fact, the only thing I care about is that you are off my doorstep so I don't get a reputation of taking on pity cases. Now scram," he finished, withdrawing and shutting the door before making his way back to bed. However, he hadn't but sat down before she began knocking insistently on the door again.
"Go away kid," he yelled, massaging his temples to appease his throbbing veins. There was a pause, then her barrage began once more. D groaned and rolled over on his side, clamping a pillow around his head to drown out the sound. God, was she persistent.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," she hollered back through the wood, but he just rolled over and mumbled, "Sure you do. There's a whole goddamn city to go to, but no, you choose here."

After a few more minutes of the unceasing din, she seemed to realize he would not be answering any time soon, so she stopped knocking and started pleading again, first sweetly, then angrily, then desperately, and then she finally fell quiet. D craned his neck to look at the door, narrowing his eyes at the sudden suspicious silence. Did she leave? he wondered, and waited a few more moments before carefully sliding out of bed and making his way as quietly as possible to the peephole. Placing his hands on the door, he squinted in the hole, seeing that she had indeed stopped her attack and had taken a determined seat with her back against the short piece of iron fence that prevented a three foot fall. She was looking at something in her hands, or possibly just rubbing them together to keep warm. D rolled his eyes and pulled away, thinking, Fine. If she wants to freeze out there, she can be my guest. At least she had stopped knocking. Pushing thoughts of the girl aside, he set about his apartment in the usual fashion to prepare for the day, thankful that his coffeepot was on an auto-make timer as he shook off the last clinging tendrils of sleep. He had a meeting with a client today, and if he was anything, he was punctual to a fault- a fact that would not be changed by the front-door deterrent. After dressing and making sure said door was completely locked, D made his way to the single window in the apartment, which opened onto a gorgeous view of the alley, littered with garbage and broken glass. He kept the hinges regularly oiled for situations such as this, so it opened smoothly with little noise, but he was still careful to listen for any reaction on the girl's side of this exchange. Nothing. Good , he thought, Let her freeze to death waiting on an empty apartment. He slid out the new escape route, landing carefully so as not to break any more glass and alert the girl to his leaving. Still nothing. He couldn't help but smirk a little at how well this had worked, but he quickly smothered it and straightened up to begin picking his way through the minefield of noisemakers before setting off for his appointment. He had a customer to meet, after all.