At the Gator's 3 (Patreon)

At the Gator’s 3 - or ‘I am Croc or Waylon, but no Killer’ (DC Comics/DCAU, Killer Croc!SI)

I am a Gator, not a Date Master.

This sentence was hilarious to many, but it portrayed me perfectly. So, when it came down to dating Pam, I ended up proving my own inability to conjure a successful ‘surviving plan’.

A walk in the park followed by a picnic? It would start to rain out of the blue.

A lovely date-night at a fancy restaurant? Some crime lord would come by, pay to get himself a seat for himself and his lady by ‘snatching ours’ via bribery, and be forced to go to a smaller business.

Despite that, Pam found those occasions lovely enough to… have sex. A lot. To a normal man, it would quickly turn into a problem, but it was clear that Pam had her Sex Drive hard-wired to have her fuck a lot.

What made this bearable was the fact I could… fuck more. The demand was high, but the offer was higher as the green-skinned redhead soon found out.

Did it upset her? Absolutely not.

In fact, it made her giddy to test out the limits of our newfound intimacy. I had to put my foot down on some ideas out of decency and preservation. Exhibitionism just wasn’t my kink when someone could accuse me of raping someone due to assumptions being a more reliable thing here in this world.

I just didn’t want that attention on me, and Pam understood that perfectly and without making a fuss about it.

Still, she wanted me to ‘feel satisfied too’, thinking that I needed to drain myself in sex to be fully content with it. I told her that wasn’t the case but, much to my chagrin, she just didn’t want to budge on the topic.

So, for that very reason, she would use some of our free time to brainstorm to solve this situation. She was rather creative about it, but most of those ideas were shot down. Especially the ones that would result in me having a plant-tentacle up my butt.

Those that were accepted were positions. And I have to say that some of those I didn’t know myself. To Pam, however, it was discovering a whole new world. She was hooked to each new position, her favorites switching from time to time and, eventually, that awkward topic somewhat became easier to handle and, at times, ignore.

With Gotham’s news picking up quite a development with Batman becoming friends with Commissioner Gordon and… Harvey Dent. I heard from some thugs visiting that some of their bosses hated Harvey’s guts for a very reason I didn’t remember, but I am sure it was somewhere mentioned in the comics: he once worked as a defense attorney for many criminals captured by Batman around this time.

The announcement that he had been made District Attorney meant that organized crime could no longer rely on favoring one side to the other- which was something he wanted to do, which is why he engaged in this radical move.

Soon, there was a sudden unease for many criminals to wander around and the overall district got quite safer and quieter because of it. I doubted much could be done at this point, but if Dent had the means and the time to get to work, he could have cleansed Gotham from the worst scum around.

But for me, that kind of approach was not feasible. Not without putting the spotlight on myself and Pam. Which was not good at all. Still, despite my best efforts to try and keep us away from any metahuman developments, I was a bit surprised when we ended up dealing with a rather unexpected visit from… clearly a superpowered individual.

Wearing baggy clothes that looked wrong on her sickly pale skin and her snow-white hair, the blue-eyed girl that wandered into my pub was not someone I recognized fully. I could see, and feel by the cold settling in the establishment as she walked in, that we were dealing with Killer Frost.

But what version of her precisely?

Three names appeared in my mind. The original, Crystal Frost, which was known only for her initial iteration of the character and her return in some of the Animated series, then there is Louise Lincoln who was the most prevalent of the trio but also the one that was meant to be older than this girl and finally… Caitlin Snow. And I know very little of her, but know for a thing she shouldn’t be around just yet.

So, I patiently waited by the counter as she approached, other customers turning to see her as they knew the sudden bout of chilling cold slowly seeping in the pub came from her. Even Pam paused a moment to frown at her and then give me a questioning look. I just shrugged, knowing that this one was not a threat.

It was in her haunted and tired eyes as she took a seat and I walked up to her.

“Welcome to At The Gator’s. How may I help you?”

…

“Do you… hire new people?”

Nervous, she was actually struggling to look at me. Not for my appearance but rather because she was clearly quite flustered at talking with someone. Quite the shy bug she was.

“I wouldn’t say I am actively looking, but if the one asking has something to offer which may be beneficial and worthy of a salary… sure.”

She raised a palm, turning it upward as she generated a few ice cubes before my eyes.

“That’s neat.”

That calm comment, lacking any shock, seemed to really catch her off-guard. She didn’t speak, but her face and eyes were quite expressive. I slowly reached out with my left hand, two fingers carefully lifting one of the cubes. It was quite the ice cube. Nothing too thin, nothing too ‘fragile’.

But still, nothing that I can use in the Pub.

At least, not as extensively as the girl may be hoping for. To make it simple, we hardly used fridges for some of the beverages. I had to keep track of those drinks that needed to be cool on most occasions, but it wasn’t for all bottles on display.

Still…

I gave her a look and felt it was quite easy for me to relate to her. Distrust for people, general self-loathing, a clear interest to exploit her own powers to obtain stability through societal work and rights…

I couldn’t give her a job because her powers were not useful to me but- but the girl was still willing and I had been looking into expanding the pub anyway.

“Do you have any preparation in drink-preparation and being a bartender?”

The sudden question snapped out from the ‘sinking look’ that maybe this was a wasted chance.

“I-I don’t.”

“Would you be willing to learn?” I pressed on. “Being an apprentice bartender can be quite time-intensive and draining. So you need to be sure that you can afford such a task. You may not get a lot of money out of this, but in the eventuality you want to move to another place, you can find an easier workplace with the experience.”

That perked her full attention and she slowly nodded. “How much would I… make? I mean, would I make money by being a mere apprentice?”

“I am not an expert on this, but I could approximate to roughly 2500 bucks per month.”

Her jaw dropped at this. “T-That’s a lot.”

“It’s a job and you need to put your best shot to get it right. I will make sure you know all the basics you need and, in due time, you may as well ask for a raise if you go through apprenticeship without any issues.”

“How can I tell I am done?”

“I will provide you with some material on the topic, but there are tests to gain a certificate. The main points are publicly known so you will know what you need to know and what you can ignore on most occasions.”

Her shoulders sagged. “That’s… great.”

“Were you expecting me to put you through some back-breaking job or something that could have been unpleasant for you?”

Her eyes snapped wide open. “I-I would have never-”

“Relax, missy. I just know that look,” I interjected calmly, offering a smile. “The reason why I am bringing this up is… Well, I have been there. I had to do some unpleasant jobs, legal ones, but I made it through. Can tell you just started. I am Waylon Jones.”

“Louise. Louise Lincoln, sir.”

I offered a hand, she looked at it nervously but… went to shake it with hers. I felt a bit of cold spreading over my scaly palm but it didn’t go too far.

“Strong hold.”

Louise blushed a bit. “Yeah… A-Also, there’s one thing I wanted to ask.”

“And that is?” I asked quietly, and I could tell it had her embarrassed as she hesitated a bit.

“I… I kind of not have a place where to stay, I wanted to know if you have somewhere I could stay or-”

“You can stay with us,” Pam’s voice cut through as the redhead was there, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We have a spare room on the flat above, so you can make yourself comfortable there.”

Louise jumped a bit. “W-Would it really be fine?” Her gaze nervously going back and forth between Pam and I.

I questioned Pam’s idea with a frown and she gave me a bit of a serious look.

“I suppose that would be a good arrangement for the time being.”

I decided to roll with this, and while I gave Louise the chance to look around the pub to learn more of the place, I used this chance to properly ask what Pamela was up to and-

“She was abused,” Pam explained quietly. “I saw a bruise that is barely visible on her collarbone. The baggy clothes, the fidgety attitude… I can tell she has been through a lot.”

“I see,” I commented with a nod. “Then we have to make sure she is treated with care without being overbearing.”

Pam beamed at that and thus… At the Gator’s now had a new worker.

A young woman that would have become Killer Frost if she hadn’t found this place.

—-------d-d-d-d—----

AN

While she is Louise Lincoln, her backstory is shared with Crystal Frost from Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay, and many other traits come from the other versions of the villainess to create a ‘compact character’.

She also likes her man big and roughish, with a deep touch of care.