The alarm clock went off at a quarter to five am, but there was no body in the bed to hear it. It was already awake, already washed, brushed, groomed, clothed and sitting alone at the bar of the cozy diner.

It was nearing five thirty and Skipper was not even half finished what he had ordered. Scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, four peices of toast, homestyle potatoes, sausage, oatmeal, orange juice and -like he actually needed anymore- coffee. A very large, very full thermos of piping hot coffee. He ran on the stuff though he never considered it an addiction.

The newspaper lying next to him was untouched, the tv playing quietly in the corner of the diner remained unwatched and, for the moment, as Skip concentrated on completing his whole breakfast spread, he was alone. He was the only customer in that early on that particular day. He couldn't say much for those insomniacs who wandered in at four or four thirty or even five o'clock, but right now it was just him, just him, the chef and the single waitress on duty.

For now, anyway.

A man wandered in, one of the insomniacs that was mentioned. He carried a child, sleeping, on his hip. He was an average costumer here, coming in once a week in the morning and once a week in the evening. He wore black clothing consiting of snug leather pants, a tight polyester type short sleeved shirt, heavy black boots that remained unlaced and unmessed with, and a long black trench. All of the blck clashed harshly with his bleach blonde hair. His eyes were mismatched, the right one being a solid blue, the left a sharp green. His son wore simple childs clothing, blue pants, a puffy black jacket over his shirt and his hair thin, shoulder length and the same color as his father.

The man took the boy to a table, ignoring the 'please wait to be seated' sign, and sat him in a wooden armchair. The childs head lulled to the side sleeply. The man walked to the bar and waited for the waitress, ready to order a hot coffee and have them prepare a brekfast for whenever the child would wake up. He looked at the only other being in the restraunt. 'morning,' he said, tipping his head.

Skip had just shoved a heaping forkful of potatoes into his mouth and was just about ready to start chewing when the man came up to the bar a few feet away. He let his brown eyes stray from his full platter of food to the darkly clad man. Skipper hadn't noticed the kid sleeping peacefully at one of the tables, otherwise he might have smiled too widely and would have gotten a whole chest full of beyond-mashed potatoes. Yum.

It actually wasn't his first visit to the diner. A friend at work had suggested the place a few weeks ago and, although he had only checked it out three or four days ago, he had been coming ever since. The food was good, affordable and the service was fast enough that he could eat at a leisurely pace and still get into work on time.

"G'mornin'," Skipper returned as soon as he had managed to swallow the whomping mouthful of potatoes. He gave a little, friendly grin after that, but then turned to look back at his meal.

"Kinda gloomy today, huh?"

Pierce nodded, "that it is," he replied, his voice slightly resentful. The waitress made her way over to take his order.

"Can i Get you the usually Pierce?"

"Yes ma'am. Keep the kids food in the back. He hasn't woken up yet. He had a late night." He answered, she bustled off to fullfill his order. Pierce's eyes strayed to the stranger, looking him over once, taking in the new face. Then his eyes went to the styerphome cup placed in front of him. Rather then black, the coffee was brown and smelled of vinilla cream. "Havn't seen you around here before, you knew to the city? Or just the Diner?" He asked. He realized the man was content on eating so he bothered him no further but rather apologized tot he gentleman for interupting his meal. He threw a glance to the chair to check the sleeping child, who was still sleeping soundly and bundled up warmly.

"Nah, not a problem, food usually tastes better with some kind of living company," Skipper stated with a low chuckle as he took another bite out of a piece of toast. He spoke in a friendly and conversational manner and didn't really seem to be bothered at all. Chewing thoughtfully and swallowing, he turned to study the other man. He grinned, eyeing his very light hair.

"New to the city? Heh, funny you should say that, I've lived here forever. Nah, just new to the diner, it's a great place, too," Skip informed as if the other man didn't know already.

He nodded his agreement. "That it is, great food, wonderfull service." He brought the coffee mug to his lips and took a long drink. At his elbow was a blonde patch of hair sticking up wildly, blue and green eye peering at the stranger that was Skip.

Unnoticed by all, the child that had moments ago been soundly sleeping, had awaken, crossed the diner, and stood at his fathers elbow. He put two small hands on Pierce's leg and pulled himself, with a bit of a struggle, up into the man's lap. Pierce put his coffee on the counter and helped the child settle in on his lap. The boy was almost completely identical to the man, eyes mismatched and hair long, wild. and blonde. His innocent smile was different though, probably inherrited from his mother. He yawned and waved at the waitress.

Skipper was just about to push a gigantic forkful of potatoes past his lips and into his mouth when he laid eyes on the little man. He grinned, dropping most of what he had on his fork as he placed it back down on the plate. Despite his rather gruff and sinewy appearance, Skip had the hugest soft spot for children.

"Heeeey there, little guy! Aren't you the looker!" He said softly with a hearty laugh as he placed one elbow beside his plate and leaned on the bartop. Grinning, Skip's brown gaze flickered toward the larger version of the two who could only be the father and then lowered his eyes back to the youngster. Yep, definitely a pair of peas in a pod.

Heeeey there, little guy! Aren't you the looker

The boy smiled, more like grin that spread across his whole face. He looked at his father and grinned at the mans complement. He looked back at the gruff appearing man, apparently the 'gruffness' didn't bother or starttle the child, and nodded his head vigerously. The waitress asked if he was hungry and he again nodded.

Pierce, watching his son, chuckled. He looked over at Skip and smiled. "His name is Dagger....or Dag," he added with a shrug. He took another drink of his milky coffee and re-situated Dag when the waitress set a bowl of oatmeal with lumps of apple in front of them. He leaned foreward and picked up a spoon and handed it to the boy. "Careful. It's hot." He then turned his attintion back to the man who seemed utterly intregued by the child. "He dosn't talk." He offered by way of an explanation since the boy had not thanked Skip for the complement. "We arn't sure if he's mute or just pulling our chains and leading us on." He shrugged again. "Dosn't matter, he has his own language and It's pretty easy."

Skipper gave a nod that was almost solemn. His brown gaze left the youngster for a moment, wandering over his meal. There wasn't much left since he had been working on it for at least twenty minutes straight. He lifted his thermos of coffee and drained what was left. Only after he had placed the metal thermos back on the counter had he turned back to face Pierce and his offspring.

The other man had mentioned a 'we' and Skip suddenly wondered if that meant there was a wife or girlfriend involved that was left at home somewhere. Or maybe even another young man, you couldn't exactly tell nowadays. A thought suddenly occured to Skipper and he slipped his hand into the brown leather jacket he wore, fumbling with something in the pocket.

"Does the little man like action n' adventure?" Skippy inquired slowly, giving a small, but friendly looking grin. He had a few free passes to the theme park since he worked there. It was small, but it was one of the few perks that came with being an attraction stuntman.

The child paused from blowing on his oatmeal to cool it and waiting intently to eat it to look up at his father with one slim blond eyebrow raised, the guesture made him look much older then the few years that he was.

"It's an amusment park. Like a faire." He told the boy, he looked back at Skipper, which he still didn't know the man's name. The child, now with the knowlege of what it was looked at Skipper and nodded his head vigurously. Pierce chuckled. "I'd say that's a yes. Why do you ask?"

"I got a bunch o' these," Skipper began, lifting the cardboard passes out of his pocket and sliding them along the counter over to Pierce and Dag in one fluid movement. His hands were clearly caloused which could mean a variety of things, most obvious being that he was a hard-working man who did a lot manualy. That was partly true.

"I work at the park so I get 'em for free all the time," he concluded with a sheepish sort of smile and a shrug. He wasn't a big fan of amusement park rides to be honest. He had no use for the passes.

He reached over as dagger began to chow on his slightly cooled oatmeal and placed his hand on the tickets. At that moment, Daggers mouth hung open and his tongue stuck out, a blob of steaming oatmeal on the end of it, part of it falling off onto the counter. His eyes teared up and he waved his hands at his tongue. Pierce took his hand from the tickets and grabbed a napkin. He whipped the cheap paper across the stuck out tongue, wiping the oatmeal from it. He reached forward and grabbed the glass of cold milk. Dagger snatched it and gulped down the cold milk.

"I told you it was hot." Pierce told the boy as he wiped the counter off. "Wait for a few minutes Dag." He said with a hint of pitty and guilt in his voice. He then reached forward, turning his attintion back to Skip, now that Dag had been taken care of and picked up the tickets to look them over. "Thanks. What do you do there?" He asked curiously.

"Oh you know, the usual things... Dodge bullets, dive from exploding vehicles, get chased by a gigantic rolling boulder," Skip replied vaguely although his grin proved that he might or might not have been being sarcastic. He chuckled at himself afterwards and turned on the bar stool to fully face Pierce and his son.

"I'm serious though, my official title would be stuntman," he added afterwards, quickly stuffing a smaller forkful of egg into his mouth and chewing slowly. Skipper took pride in what he did for a living, as dangerous as it might be.

The child dived directly back into his oatmeal and again he and his father repeated the previous task of cleaning up and cooling down the end of the kids tongue. All the while, Pierce kept eye contact with Skip. This routine had become second nature to him after four executive years of it.

He nodded. "Interesting. And you enjoy it." It was more of a comented guess then a question. He pocketed the tickets and took the spoon away from Dagger so he couldn't eat any more until the food was cooled. "Perhapes I'll bring him by this weekend." he mused outloud.

"I could give you two a backstage tour if you want, I'm it'd be pretty cool for the little guy," Skip said with a nod in Dagger's direction. He was grinning only slightly now, watching the father-son duo with interest. He couldn't remember what his own father had been like, but found himself wondering if he was at all like Pierce.

"I'm Skipper by the way, Skipper Fellows," he introduced finally, holding out his hand for the other man to shake only after he had wiped it clean with his napkin.

...And he did wipe it clean with the napkin and reached out to shake Skips hand firmly. "Pleasure," he murmured in a routine fashion. Then added, "Pierce Petterson," when he realized he'd introduced his son but not himself. He took up a clean napkin and waved it idely over the hot oatmeal, slowly but surely cooling it.

Finally he handed the spoon back over to Dagger, who rearanged himself for he was sitting on his knees in Pierce's lap, Dag dove right into the oatmeal, lacking the mess this time. "Yeah, that would be an experiance. He smiled, absently rubbing one hand on Daggers back. "Should we just ask for you when we get there or what?" he asked, obviously planning already for the weekend....even though he hadn't gone through the weekly fight with Daggers mother over who would take him for the weekend.

"You could do that, or I could prob'ly find you myself, I'm good at that," Skip replied with a prideful grin. He had somewhat of a knack for spotting specific people in large crowds, it came with the job. Well, sort of. Being part of the theme park's entertaining team, he occasionally got the chance to be a plant in the live action shows. He had to spot the most gullible and touristy group of people and sit amongst them during one of the shows and react in great exageration when something exploded right beside that section. Skipper often enjoyed seeing the shocked expressions of the theme park goers as he, a poor 'unsuspecting' tourist, was launched into the air and onto the floor.

"I suggest you sit in section D, though, it's the best of the house," he informed, raising his eyebrows at the young man.

He raised his own eyebrows, having been to many stunt shows in theme parks. "The best seat for what exactly?" He asked catiously but his voice thick with amused humor. The two men went completely unnoticed by the boy, who was busy scarffing down his meal.

"The best seat for veiwing or for getting volenteered?" He smiled, his blue and green eyes twinkling with amusment. He didn't admit it much but he loved amusment parks nearly as much as his four year old son did.

"That you'll have to see for yourself, I can't disclose all the info, then you won't bother dropping by!" Skip exclaimed with a toothy grin as he nodded to the waitress who refilled his thermos. He finished the last quarter of his toast and washed it down with the piping hot coffee. Either the temperature didn't bother him, or he did a very good show of ignoring it.

"I could let you try out some of the safer stuff if you want, it's lots o' fun," he assured with an enthusiastic nod.

He chuckled at the spirit in this man, Dagger looked up at the change in tones of their conversation, his mouth full of oatmeal. The excited tone had once again attracted his attintion. His eyes, that were blue and green like his fathers, were suddenly both a lazy color of yellow. Pierce didn't seem to notice.

Pierce nodded and leaned aginst the bar, one elbow on the table. "Alright." He replied. "Lets have it then." He smiled. He was mildly curious what the 'safer stuff' might be.

Skipper hadn't noticed the odd colour change of the boy's eyes either, whenever he got to talking about his job he was always focused on who he was relating the details to. Grinning wider now, a thoughtful expression fell across his gruff features. Sure there were plenty of stunts that the cast and crew occasionally let the tourists try, but these were tourists with lots of cash who were more than likely V.I.P's. Then again, family were also permitted on certain days of the month. Why the hell not?

"There's the trapeze, booby traps, flying... And those are only a little bit of what I have to do," he added afterwards, the pride subtly inching into his tone.

Dagger began to bounce up and down on his fathers lap excitedly. He'd abandonded his oatmel and now had a wide excited grin on his face, much like Skips. Pierce had placed his hands on the bar on eaither side of Dagger so as to create a brace so he boy wouldn't bounce off his lap.

Pierce nodded, impressed. He was impressed by both, the stunts (as he always was) and by the pride this fellow took in his work. Not many people liked their jobs these days. "And what time are the shows?" he asked, allowing the impressed quality appear on his face.

Skipper chuckled, eyes flitting quickly over to the bouncing youth. He was so much like a lot of the other young boys he'd seen meandering around the park with their families, sitting atop their father's shoulders and giggling excitedly about the mascots and the rides. They were usually the greatest spectators from the stunt shows.

"Excited eh, little guy?" Skip inquired with a small shake of his head. "The times depend on what the turnout is that day."

He nodded, "I see," he replied. "Well, we will probably go after breakfast sometime. Most likely...If I can get him for the day," he added, a note of sorrow in his voice, but only for that fraction of a second. Dagger remained bouncing and nodded to Skip, his hair flopping around as he did so.

Skipper opened his mouth to say something, but the words just hung in his mouth, drying on his tongue as he inhaled and exhaled. His brown eyes trailed slowly to the continuously bouncing child and remained fixed there as he closed his mouth finally and swallowed nothing. He had seen it many times before in the parks, almost too many times. Parents fighting with each other while small children were left unwatched and unnoticed, he knew that it would never end well and that was often the reason for missing children calls over the PA.

Skip gave a small sort of smile and would have raised his eyes, but Dagger's own pair had suddenly caught his attention. They were a very unnatural yellow and the man had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't a trick of the fluorescent light. He hadn't realized his smile had turned itself over into a minute frown.

"I, uh, yeah, you should definitely try and come by," Skipper murmured finally, sounding somewhat distracted although he had already averted his gaze back to Dagger's father.

Pierce's eyes narrow suspiciously, but not too obviously, at the tone of Skips voice. There could've only been two reasons for this, neither of which Pierce was truely atracted too. First, it could've been that he'd mentioned his fighting with Amy. He'd seen people get upset at that thought many times before, everyone loved Dagger far too much to wish that upon his little shoulders. But it was different, Pierce thought on, it's not like she loves him, she only wants my son because i do. I love Dagger too much to fight for the hell of it. They would fight too if they knew what she does to your baby. He pushed the thought aside with great effort, it caused him agony.

The only other option was that Dagger had done it again. He was young, Pierce understood that it was hard for someone so young to control something so big, but it caused problems. Pierce looked down and noticed the yellowed eyes. He quickly looked back up, it didn't take long for the excuse to follow, he'd used it millions of times. "Don't mind that. Birh effect." He said this last bit so the words were jumbled togather and sounded like 'birth defect' rather then efect. He didn't want to lie so instead he told the truth in a way that made it sound reasonable.

Skipper seemed suddenly regretful, but his curiosity was piqued when Pierce gave his explanation. A birth defect? The story was full of holes, large, empty gaping holes. But this wasn't a Louis Sachar book, this was a pair of small yellow eyes that just couldn't be and for some reason Skip had a feeling he understood. He stared down at his hands, the gnarled skin over his knuckles, the yellowed and cracked state of his fingernails. The more he dwelled on it, the more he had a sneaking suspicion about something.

"Thought they were those weird contact things, you know," Skip remarked quickly, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. The friendly nature of their earlier conversation felt tainted by the suddent solemn turn of the subject matter.

"Nah." Pierce replied. "Never seen any contacts that change color like that." He managed a smile and looked at Dagger who had suddenly gone still at mention of the words 'birth effect.' He remembered what that meant. It meant he'd done wrong again and his pop had to make him an excuse. He had closed his eyes almost instantly and twirled his spoon around in his cooling oatmeal.

"So," Pierce tried a weak attempt to change he subject of their conversation before he gave Skip too much time to dwell on this. "Are you married Skip?" He hated that question, but alas, he was at lack of questions.

Noting the change of topic and tone of the conversation, Skip jumped at the opportunity. He rarely socialized with his work buddies since they had to spend a lot of time rehearsing the action sequences for each attraction. His family didn't live near him either which also made it hard to keep in touch.

"Nah, I'm beginning to think I'm not the marrying type, if you get what I mean," he replied with a chuckle and suddenly felt himself relax. He glanced quickly down at his plate and found that he had finished his breakfast in its entirety. It was so good he just hadn't noticed its disappearance into his belly. He looked back at Pierce, the grin he wore greatly contrasting the frown he had before.

He shook his head, assumiong that was a bad hing but not willing to show this in his features. "Thats too bad, or is it a good thing?" he asked him curiously. He smiled. "I seem to get the same impression myself." He pat Dagger gentilly on the back, the boy still had his eye closed. "But I've got all I need right here, so i don't supose I care so much." He smiled.

"To some it could be a bad thing, me for instance, but for others it might be a good thing," with that Skipper nodded in Dagger's general direction, starting to grin again himself. He assumed the little guy was going through a rough time, even though he didn't look old enough to understand it all completely yet.

"Then again, good things can come out of bad things, so I guess it's just a toss up, really."

Pierce nodded his on head looking down at Dagger as well. "Wise words Skipper," he addmited. He smiled at his son and leaned forward to kiss the back of the boys head, an urge he couldn't supress. "So your not living with anyone then," he asked, not trying to pry, just steering to know the man. Pierce was knew to the city and in four months still hadn't gotten to know many people.

"Nah," Skipper began with a shake of his head. He gave a small grin, the kind that gave the subtle hint that what he was about to say wasn't entirely the truth, the whole truth and nothing, but the truth. But it would be close. Close enough, at least. "I don't make the best roomie, the only place I ever bother with other people really is at work, I... Yeah, not my bag," he stated finally with a vague shrug of his shoulders.

"Ah, that's too bad." He replied, placing an elbow on the bar as Dagger crawled off his lap and went to the chair where he'd left his jacket, pulling out sevral toy cars of various colors, running back and dropping to his knees by the stools. "me, I've got my little room mate down there," He smiled, pointing to dagger. "He's quiet and not too much of a mess." He smiled openly. "It used to get lonely around my place without him, do you get lonely without anyone to talk with around your place?" he asked curiously.

Skipper thought for a moment. It would be a little bit of a lie to say that he was perfectly pleased to be alone. He didn't mind it most of the time and he'd always thought he'd buy himself a pet someday so then he wouldn't be alone. That day hadn't exactly come yet and due to certain circumstances, he couldn't exactly live with anyone for fear of being turned in or, well, destroyed.

Skip shook his head in response, reaching for his thermos and drinking down some of the coffee the waitress had refilled.

He smiled mildly at the man's response, not completely convinced that this was the truth, but it was not his bussiness. Instead, Pierce turned to pick up his refilled cup of coffee and brought it to his lips.

When he removed it he turned around to peer down at his son who was now useing their feet as launch ramps for his hot wheels toy cars. A shinny red car was pushed across the floor, launched across Skip's foot, flew into the air and landed on its 'roof'. It came to a sliding stop a few feet away.

"Dagger. Don't bother Mr. Skip." He said quietly.

Skipper gave a chuckle and a small wave of his hand that meant to say that he didn't mind at all. Which he didn't. Dagger reminded him of himself at that young age when tiny, toy cars were the coolest thing to own and he always dreamed and pretended he was a fire fighter. One of those cliche goals in like, you know.

"That's a nice set of wheels you got there Dagger."

Pierce smiled and nodded his thank you at the dismisal of the boy and he's sensless palying. It was rather cute. Dagger sat up on his knees to look at his red car, a model of an old camero sports car. He leaned over, picked up a blue corvet modle and held it up to Skip, smileing from ear to ear.

Skipper gingerly took the blue car from Dagger and squinted at it, observing it carefully and holding it almost daintily between his fingers. After a second of two, he handed it back to the little boy with a lopsided kind of grin.

"That's a sweet car, Dagger, how fast does it go?"

Dagger grasped the car in his free hand, then made an exagerated guesture with his arms that meant to say 'fast' but looked more as if he were saying 'explode.' Then as if to clarify he put the blue car on the floor and pushed it as hard as he could, the blue toy skid across the room and he turnedmismatchedeyes up at Skip.

'Good with kids," Pierceobserved outloud, eyes down on Dagger as he swung his arms around in his way of speaking.