Title: "The Newsboy's Bride"
Rating: K+
Authoress: T-R-Us
Pairings: Jack/Sarah
Time: 1899 (And also a fantasy AU for the setting of the story)
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night. At the request of the frightened younger newsies, Specs cracks out an old, familiar book. When the older newsies in attendance to this impromptu "story time" get bored, it's only right for Specs to begin changing names...
Disclaimer: I don't own either Newsies or The Princess Bride and I'm sure that surprises you immensely. Whatwhat.
Authoress' Notes: So, it says "Jack/Sarah" at the top. No, you probably don't like that pairing. It seems that most of us in the Newsies fandom don't. I never really understood why other than I guess we feel threatened by Sarah's presence in an otherwise predominately male cast. I guess what I'm trying to say is: deal with it.
Big Thank You and PLUG: The original 'Newsboy Bride' story, entitled 'The Newsie Bride' was written by PuckRox who has graciously allowed me to write a similar fanfiction. (They aren't identical, of course.) If you like this story, I suggest you also read hers! Thanks, PuckRox!
Chapter One: "Prologue"
It was a dark and stormy night, a little rougher than the other major electrical storms that had been rolling through the city over the course of an exceptionally hot summer. Thunder crashed powerfully overhead and lightning flared outside the dirty windows of the Manhattan Lodging House, illuminating the bunkroom for several seconds before darkening again. It was late, well past midnight, but still a handful of newsies shuffled about the room.
"I found another one!"
"Well stick a pot under it!" Jack rolled his eyes as he handed a small, rusted pot to Mush. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, a wish destined to remain unfulfilled until he and the other three newsies still awake had staunched the steady flow of water dripping from the ceiling. Grabbing another pot, he placed it on his own bed, watching in satisfaction as it caught the steady 'drip, drip, drip' responsible for waking him in the first place.
"Specs, go see if we have any more bowls." Watching as the newsie in question stepped out into the dark hallway, Jack let loose a loud yawn. Turning to call out something more, he was drowned out when a particularly loud clap of thunder rumbled through the Lodging House, accompanied by a flurry of motion.
Blinking in confusion, he peered down at the small form that had just attached itself to his leg.
"Alright, Racetrack, it was just a loud noise," the newsie jokingly sneered as he tried to extricate himself from the strong grip, "No need to be scared or nothin'."
From where he stood several feet away, Racetrack Higgins rolled his eyes.
"Cowboy? I'm scared." It was Les, Jack recognized now, who shivered with terror as he clung tightly to the older newsie.
"It's just a bit o' thunder," having pried each individual finger off one-by-one, Jack gave the smaller boy's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Nothin' to worry about. We're inside, so we're okay."
Despite the reassuring words, the boy continued to tremble.
"Les isn't the only one who's scared," came Specs' voice from out in the hall, wry as ever. He had opened the cupboard by the stairs in search of more bowls and found instead a pair of younger newsies. "Boots and Snipeshooter thought it would be safer to hide in here."
"I wasn't scared," Snipeshooter grumbled, rising to his feet and guiltily smoothing the dust off of his clothes. "I was just keepin' Boots company s'all." His comment was echoed with another loud blast of thunder, confirming his lie as he yelped and clung to Specs.
"Alright, boys, the party's over." With a candle in one hand and a pot in the other, Mush climbed the last couple of steps up to the bunkroom landing. "Some of us have been up all night keepin' the rain from drowning everyone in their sleep, so the least you boys can do is be quiet and let us finish."
In the bunkroom, Les continued to follow Jack as the older newsie inspected his friends' handiwork. "Cowboy," the ten year old's voice quavered, "I can't sleep! I didn't know the Lodging House was so scary!"
Despite his annoyance, Jack managed to grin down at his best friend's younger brother. The boy had spent weeks begging his parents to be allowed to spend a night with the other newsies and it was a pity that at his first opportunity they were struck by the roughest storm of the season. Jack couldn't help but be reminded of his own first night in the bunkroom, it had been stormy then, too. "Alright, I'll stay up with you. We're just about done with the leaks anyway."
"Out of pots is more like it," Racetrack grumbled as he flopped onto his own bunk, worn out.
"What do you say, Race?" Jack turned to him, grinning. "You up for a late night game of cards? With you this tired I might actually stand a chance at winning."
Despite himself, the Italian smiled and pulled his lanky frame out of bed to lumber over to Jack and Les. Leaning his back against the end of Kid Blink's bunk, a deck of cards appeared in his hands as though they had always been there. "Poker or rummy or what?"
"Oh no, not cards!" With Boots, Specs and Mush close behind him, Snipeshooter barreled into the bunkroom, his confidence regained now that everyone was going to be awake. He reached forward to bat the cards out of Racetrack's hands, receiving a sharp swat for his efforts. "That's so boring!"
"Why not get Specs to read to us?" Mush was tired and he knew that if a feasible idea didn't manifest soon, they'd end up doing something ridiculous – another shaving cream fight perhaps – and then there'd be no rest for anyone. "With the stuff he reads, it puts me to sleep just thinking about it."
"Thanks, Mush," insulted, Specs tried to defend his reading material. "My books aren't boring. But if you would like me to read I won't say no – as long as you can all agree on something yourselves."
Hurrying eagerly to Specs' bunk, Boots lifted the thin mattress to reveal the rows of books stored underneath. All were tattered and dog-eared. "This looks like it's been read lots, it must be good." He had pulled out a worn, green paperback with several deep creases in the spine and handed it to the bespectacled newsie.
"Oh, this," Specs smoothed a hand over the wrinkled cover, taking the candle from Mush to better see the words printed across the front. "I haven't read this in ages. This is the Princess Bride."
Snipeshooter raised a thin eyebrow, already skeptical of the choice. "Sounds girly."
"It happens," Specs floored the redhead with a sharp look, "To be a classic. Besides, it's got everything. Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge…" He paused, remembering. "There's giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles – "
"Perfect!" Jack was smiling as he sat down next to Specs, expecting the story to enthrall his fellow newsies enough that he himself could sneak back to bed. "What are we waiting for if there's monsters and torture.
Racetrack sat down as well, chewing on the end of a cigar, his cards already stowed away. "Any gamblin'?"
"Ah, some. Of the 'life or death' variety."
"Well open the damn book already."
Closing Comments: Ah, "the Princess Bride", a book where the author spends the entire story trying to prove that he's not the author.