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Disclaimer: *sigh* Don't own them ... d*amn. Not making any money off this either. Actually I'm just not making any money at all ... double d*mn!!! This is written with the intent to amuse and distract the batallions of BSB fans of the world, and not to offend, tick off, bugg, annoy, or otherwise upset anyone. *looks around* Everybody happy? :-D

A/N: Hey all!!! Yeah I know, this story (and myself) just kind of dissapeared there didn't we? Sorry, two reasons, one is very personal and the other is because of the first one and that is writer's block. You all know what I'm talking about. Anyway, this is the new, updated version. First 12 chapters I don't think changed much, took a little bit out here and there. NOW PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!! Yes I know I'm doing the annoying begging-for-feedback thing, but I just have too. My fanfics are what I use to hone and practise my craft, and I can't know if I'm doing it right or improving at all if you don't tell ... you digg?

Dedication: To Louise, who is not forgotton, always appreciated, just misplaced along the way. I will find you again my friend.

Chapter 1

"Hey AJ, will ya hurry it up in there with that burger. This gentleman isn’t gonna wait for you forever you know!"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" AJ called back. "Don’t get your panties in a twist I’m done with it!"

"Oh don’t try me you little punk. I can find a hundred other little snots who can burn a burger just as bad as you."

AJ really hated that man. Really hated him with every fiber of his being. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice you asshole! He thought bitterly. Not if I had a choice. He heard the front door open again. What is it in this city? There’s always someone wanting food just before closing time! A few minutes later Roy called the new customers’ order. AJ thought the old bastard sounded rather … subdued. Interesting…

A moment later he caught a glimpse of the customer … and then took another look. The man was tall. Very tall. And dark. And quiet. He seemed to move only when absolutely necessary, and even then with an economy that gave him an almost mystical quality. Like those people that you read about in pulp fiction that only come out at night and scare the be-jeepers out of everybody they meet. Then he caught a glimpse of the strangers’ eyes and immediately regretted his analogy. The stranger had piercing eyes. They seemed to shine with an inner light, and AJ had the extremely uncomfortable feeling that those eyes could see right through you. He ducked behind the counter, hoping the stranger wouldn’t still be looking at him when he popped his head out again.

He finished the order in record time, for a change, and Roy seemed grateful for that. Apparently AJ wasn’t the only one feeling nervous in the stranger’s presence. The stranger accepted the package and thanked them in what AJ thought was a deceptively quiet voice. Roy let out a sigh of relief when the stranger left the shop. "Wo-oh," was all AJ could think of to say.

"Well what are you waiting for? Some of us have an actual home to go to! Get cleaning!" Roy seemed determined to regain the composure he had lost to the stranger by screaming at AJ all the time it that took him to clean the kitchen. "That’s it, that’s it! Clean you little shit! If this place isn’t spotless you needn’t bother coming back tomorrow. Then we’ll see how long you’ll survive!"
How he hated that man! AJ cursed the fates that had brought him to this place. Why did this have to be his life? "Uh … Roy? You still owe me this week’s wages …" He hated to have to cower to the bastard, but he had no choice. What little money he did manage to get together came mostly from him. But he always made it seem like you were stealing from him, no matter how much you worked.

"Excuse me? What did you say? Did you just dare to ask me for money? I hope not, because I don’t seem to remember owing you any money."
"What?" AJ cried. "You don’t owe me any money? I’ve worked my ass off and you haven’t paid me full wage in month!"

"Really? A month huh? Well that must be because of all the orders your late with, or all the orders you burned. Or for the utensils and shit that keeps disappearing from the kitchen. Or the cleaning you never do properly!" Roy sprayed spittle on AJ as he spoke.

He enjoyed this. He enjoyed torturing me like this! He knew I needed that money! "Roy, that’s not fair! I … never took …" AJ took a breath, "Roy I … I really … I just really need that money. Please?" AJ felt like crying.
"Well that’s just too bad isn’t it? Maybe in the future you’ll work harder and you might actually earn some money heh?" Roy laughed at AJ’s distraught expression. "Little shit! You’ll have to learn some respect first before I give you an inch! And in the meantime you can enjoy you’re little box under the stars! He shoved AJ out the door and slammed it in his face."

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It was bitterly cold outside. One of those cold New York nights when it seemed that the cold reached right into your bones and decided to take up residence there. And AJ was hungry. That was usually a normal state of affairs with him, but tonight’s hunger was worse. It burned!

Well, looks like he didn’t have a choice. Again. AJ hated doing this, but he was hungry and he needed to eat. He felt like his insides were devouring themselves. He went to his usual spot, and then took up the wait. He knew well what to watch for by now. A woman walking by herself. With a handbag. He always made sure to pick only what looked like rich women. Women who could afford to loose a few bucks. After what seemed like forever he saw what he thought looked like the perfect target.

She was an oldish woman. Dressed smartly, she walked with an easy confidence that implied she was very comfortable in this world. I’m happy for you, AJ thought, but I’m still gonna have to do this. He started walking after her, slowly catching up. He kept his distance until he saw her moving into an ebb in the continuous flow of people on the sidewalk. Then he moved in, walking up behind her quickly he grabbed her bag and then ran like hell. He could hear the woman calling for someone to help her, but he didn’t expect to really have a problem. New Yorkers had an amazing lack of interest in helping their fellow citizen.

He ran around a corner into an alleyway. There he stopped and crouched down, quickly emptying the bag to see what money she had on her. Damn! AJ felt like crying again. Only some change that probably didn’t amount to more than a few bucks! At least he could have some bread for a couple of days. Hopefully by that time Roy will have gotten of his high horse and paid him at least something again. After all he wouldn’t want his favorite toy to die of starvation. The purse itself looked like it might be worth something though. AJ decided to keep it too. And having learned the hard way what a bad idea it was, this time he decided not too leave the credit cards behind, instead leaving them in the purse. Further examining it’s contents he found a necklace with a very interesting design. The metal was of a kind he had never seen before, which didn’t really surprise him. His contact with objects of wealth being as limited as it was. He dropped the necklace in his pocket, dumped the handbag among the crates nearby he left the alley at the opposite end.

After stopping by a Seven-Eleven AJ made his way to the scrap yard he called home. The bitterly cold wind sighed through the old wrecks. Somewhere a panel flapped, slap-slapping offbeat. AJ’s little haven was in one of the back rows, the older rows. No one ever came there anymore, and he had some peace and safety. Some, but not complete.

Lost in thought he never heard the footsteps coming up from behind him. He only realized the danger when they grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Oh shit oh shit oh shit! He thought frantically as he fought to regain his feet. But it was too late, and too many rough hands pushed him down.

"Well if it ain’t little boy AJ. What have you got there little AJ, hmm? Some supper? Ah, you really shouldn’t have."

For the third time that night AJ felt like crying. The voice belonged to the man he dreaded most. Or not man. Animal. Haltingly he said: "Please! I gave you everything I had last week. I have nothing more. I … I haven’t eaten much in days! Please, … please don’t …"

"Ah poor baby! Lookie ‘im. Is little boy AJ gonna put up his fists and punch my nose? Is he gonna run home to Mommy and cry boo-hoo? Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot! You’re mommy is a crack whore who liked to put her cigarettes out on you, isn’t she? And no-one knows what bastard spurted you out."
AJ tried to get up, but he only got as far as his knees before he received the expected kick to the ribs. He couldn’t believe how weak he felt. It was a cold weakness, as if lead instead of blood flowed through his veins. He breathed in short, shallow gasps – only partly because of the pain. He felt the saltwater well up in his eyes, a sharp pain of shame stabbing through him. He still clutched the bag with the precious bread tightly in his right hand. Too late he realized what a bad idea that was.

The animal’s work-boot came crashing down on AJ’s hand, crushing the fragile bones. AJ’s cry was silenced by yet another kick to the ribs. "Well, don’t mind if I do!" Tanner drawled as he picked up the bloodied bag. Before he got up he saw the purse bulging beneath AJ’s over-sized shirt. Roughly he grabbed it, tearing the well-worn fabric. He grasped a handful of AJ’s hair and shoved his face into the cold, stinging mud. "Now listen up little one, if ever I find you trying to sneak by me again without paying toll, then a hand simply will not do."

Mercifully, that was the end of it. AJ lay as still as possible, playing dead, just in case they thought about it again and came back to ‘play’ some more. He waited until the squelching sounds of the hated work boots disappeared around the corner at the end of the path. "No … oh god no…" AJ sobbed, realization that he was in serious trouble dawning on him.

With his good hand he pushed himself up. He examined the damage to his strong hand, and sobbed again. Definitely broken. Now what? I can’t go to a hospital! Finally AJ let the built-up tears flow freely down his cheeks, the pain washing over him in waves. No money, no food, no hope.

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