Disclaimer: I do not own Oliver or any of the characters from it.
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One
The Dodger was having a good day. So far, he could feel the bulk of three wallets and two wipes under his coat, and it was barely noon. He grinned, rather proud that he had done so well. He grinned again, spotting another foolish toff who wasn't keeping a close enough eye on their belongings, and began to trail her through the dirty, congested London streets.
The woman he was trailing was wearing a finely made pale green dress with white embroidery, which complemented her upright posture nicely. Her loose dark curls framed her face and her dark eyes as they cascaded down her shoulders. Of course, the Dodger could see none of this, as he was behind her. Then the woman turned down a dark, shadowy side street, which was closer to being an alley. This surprised the Dodger, and he grinned again. What a silly toff. She was entering the lower city's boarders, where there were no traps she could call, even if he took her entire handbag.
The Dodger melded himself into the shadows, and carefully reached his fingers towards her handbag . . .
Suddenly, the woman whipped around and grabbed his wrist, and said sharply, "You'd better keep away if you know what's good for you."
Silence fell as their eyes locked. She let go of his wrist, and the Dodger thought, my, she's a pretty 'un. Her dark eyes locked with his blue ones, and if you were looking on the scene, you would've seen a beautiful, well dressed dark haired and eyed woman, looking up at a dark haired, blue eyed young man in a dark, tattered top hat. Despite her uprightness, she only came up to the Dodger's nose.
"An' wha' if I don' know wot's good fer me?" The Dodger asked, slyly, but remained unmoving.
"Well, I know more people higher up then you do, and if I was to call the police, which I don't plan on doing, you would probably face the gallows." She said, allowing herself a stern expression, but a wry look playing with her features.
The Dodger laughed. "An' the traps and beak would all love to see me 'ang. I'm quite dangerous, I am."
The woman's lips played with a small smile, the corners turning up ever so slightly. "Well then, could I have your name, so I can tell all my friends that I ran into a dangerous criminal and lived to tell the tale?" Just as the Dodger was about to open her mouth to speak, she continued. "Not your real name, no, you would be far too clever for that. Just whatever you're known as, down here."
The Dodger matched her tone and wry smile with one of his own. "I'm Jack Dawkins, better known among me more hintimate friends as the Artful Dodger."
"And mine is Sara. It's all that I'm known as, but I shall tell you something about myself then. I somehow feel that I can trust you." At this, she gave him a glance through her eyelashes, finally breaking the spell of their locked eyes. "I am part of the campaign for women's rights not only in the upper city, but mainly for down here."
For a moment, the Dodger's sly mask gave way, to genuine surprise, but not only that. He was impressed. "Really?" he asked, receiving a nod from Sara, he continued, "Some down 'ere don' like it – they're sayin' it's not right. But I think its no' a bad idea."
Sara gave him a genuine smile, revealing that she appreciated his opinion. Then she retreated back into her wry expression, and they locked eyes again. "Until we meet again, mister Dodger." She finished, holding out her hand for him to shake.
He took her hand, and replied, "Until we mee' again, Lady Sara." He took off his hat, and brought her small hand to his lips and kissed it. And as he watched her make her way back to the streets, he didn't see her smiling lips and blushing cheeks. Then he faded into the shadows, and went back into the streets.