I had to redo this whole thing on ff.net because I rated it NC-17 after deciding that one scene in here was a bit over the rated R business, but now it's back to R. I lost all of my reviews in the process so please be nice and review! :)
IF you are reading this right now, you have stumbled upon a very unlikely fic filled with violence, sex, suggestive comments (the whole way through) and overall a tale of two insane, sexy girls who can't seem to keep out of trouble. Please read and review, because Whiskey's been slacking for a month or two and won't write her next part and well, she needs motivation. Thank you very much. :)
Disclaimer: The Disney characters belong to Disney DUH. And our characters belong to us. The others belong to them.
It was a bad time to live in Brooklyn, usually one of the safest places a newsie could call home, with Spot Conlon watching their back, had quickly been turned into an impromptu war zone, due to the ongoing territorial fight of Brooklyn vs. Harlem. Trick, Harlem's leader, was vicious and ambitious. His only goal in life, it seemed, was to take over Brooklyn once and for all. No one had ever dared to even think of going up against the Brooklyn newsies, the very thought of it sending people into a bad case of the nerves. It seemed almost impossible to even soak a Brooklyn newsie, nonetheless take it over completely. Their fearless leader, Spot Conlon, looked no more challenging than any of the newsies there, but he was the most feared newsie in all of New York and no one had challenged his right to the title until now.
Trick was quite your basic evil looking guy, a tough build to his body, a towering appearance that was bound to chase any newsie off without him even having to lift a finger. He had blonde hair with unnatural streaks of black in it. But it was his icy light blue eyes that were his most intense facial feature, and anyone who had met him face to face knew that if looks could kill, they would already be dead.
He had come out of nowhere it had seemed, just appeared one day and challenged the old leader of Harlem. The poor guy has not been seen ever since then. Trick asserted his dominance almost instantly, and then proceeded to start throwing people out of the lodging house in a matter of days. Their only transgression being that they were too weak or acted too emotional for his liking. They disappeared into the different boroughs, blending in as if nothing had happened, but none dared to go to Brooklyn. If they had been kicked out of Harlem for being too 'soft' there was not any way they would last a day on the hard streets of Brooklyn, under Spot's command. So Spot heard nothing about the problems in Harlem, not even his 'little boids' let him in on this information.
He probably never would have found out, if it had not been for two of the Brooklyn's tough girls, Bitter and Whiskey. Now, these two girls were born troublemakers, and calamity seemed to follow them around every corner, but for the amount of shit the two were constantly getting into, they did not seem to mind one bit. Bitter was Spot's girl and logic might dictate that he would make her stay out of trouble, but the tough blonde-haired girl was much too stubborn to stay wrapped around his finger, much to his dismay, and she stayed stubbornly out of his control.
It was one of those cloudy, rainy days and the two of them were perched on the roof trying to figure out what they would do with the rest of their day. Bitter's green eyes were filled with thoughts, looking more dangerous with each one she had, trying to decide what kind of trouble they should get in that day. She messed with the gray cap on her head, making her straight blonde hair fall down around her face. Her stocky, but built body shifted as she caught Whiskey's light green eyes glaring at her, clear as crystal.
"So?" Whiskey asked roughly, "Ya think of anything? I'se gotta an idea, lets go depants a couple of unfortunates down at the docks, I mean it's not like dere pants are hidin' much from me prying eyes anyways, and den we'se can hide out in Manhattan and let dere anger simmer down a little. Manhattan's always a nice place ta reek a little general havoc, afta all, it's been near a week since I last saw Specs."
"I dunno bout de-pantsing da guys, didn't we do dat a couple a weeks ago? I think they've started ta invest in rope belts ta make sure that doesn't happen again..." Bitter trailed off, a grin flashing across her face at the memory. "An don't be tryin' ta pull a fast one on me, I'se know for a fact that two nights ago you didn't come back to the lh. Wheah were you that night, hmm?" she asked.
"Alright, alright, Specsy an I was sharing an intimate moment if ya really must know, and I was back before dawn. Nobody was the wiser, 'cept you. And dat's only because you ever so kindly left da winda open a crack foh me to squeeze in," she stated pointing threateningly in Bitter's direction, a look of indignation crossing her face, but her eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Specsy?!" Bitter laughed out loud. "Don't let Spot catcha talkin' like dat or he's liable to send ya packing straight back for Manhattan! No goily-goils allowed heah, or don't ya remember why it was you was shipped heah in da first place?" she finished, her laughter trailing off.
"You'se da only one dat knows about dat nickname and I'm expectin' you ta keeps it a secret! So, you got any bright ideas foh what we can do taday?" Whiskey asked as she swung her dangling legs back and forth against the building, staring out across the city.
Bitter thought for a moment or two and then turned to Whiskey with a wide, mischievous smile on her face. "I got a great idea," she said, her eyes glowing dangerously, "We could first off, go to Manhattan, raid the girls' closet for prissy dresses, dress ourselves up and then we seduce some tough looking newsies into a dark alley, making them think they're gonna get up our skirts and then teach them nevah ta think it again."
Whiskey lips curved up in a smile and nodded in agreement to the plan. "Ooo, I like da way dat sounds," she said approvingly and the two girls didn't waste any more time. They practically ran all the way to Manhattan, excited for what mischief their new idea could get them into.
Bitter led the way through the Manhattan Lodging House, ignoring the few remarks and protests they got from the newsies there. Upon arriving, Bitter pushed her way through the glaring girls and straight to where a bunch of dresses were hanging up. She thumbed her way through the dresses and found a short blood red one that looked like her size and then found a dark brown one almost exactly like it and threw it at Whiskey.
Ignoring the Manhattan's girls' yelling and protesting, they made their way to the bathroom and slipped on their dresses. Bitter found it to hug her curves just right, her larger body still having womanly curves, to her dislike. The dress was down to her knees, covering up the handmade dagger she had attached to her thigh. She twirled her body around, making sure that the dagger didn't bulge underneath her dress and give itself away. To her delight it did not and she looked over at Whiskey to see how she was doing.
The brown dress looked stunning on her and Bitter's mouth dropped. "You should wear dat color more often," Bitter said, trying not to sound stunned.
Whiskey just laughed nervously and tugged at the dress, wishing it would not be so tightly fit or so low cut. She then began playing with her hair, deciding to leave it down and releasing the auburn bun she'd been attempting to make, allowing her hair to fall on her shoulders in waves.
Bitter smiled, "Ya look fine," she muttered and then messed with her short hair, letting it down and fall a bit into her eyes, covering the dangerous look to her vivid green eyes.
Whiskey finished herself up and then smiled at Bitter. "Ready," she anxious to put their plan into action. Bitter smiled and shoved their clothes in a bag and draped it over her shoulder.
"Wait a sec," Whiskey stated as they were about to exit the lodging house. "Hey, Topsy you still got dat stuff ta make lips looks darker?"
"Yeah, Whisk," Topsy stated tossing it in her direction.
"Thanks!" Whiskey replied, as she walked back up to one of the mirrors and painted some of it on her lips. "Hmmm, poifect," she stated, smacking her more luscious lips in the mirror, then tossing the little tub and brush to Bitter.
Bitter frowned, scrunching up her nose. She was not a big fan of make-up. She began to protest when Whiskey threw her a threatening look. Bitter sighed and put some of it on her lips, glaring at Whiskey the whole time. "Happy?" she asked, tossing the tub and brush back to Topsy.
Whiskey just laughed and nodded, "You made me wheah dis, so you hafta wear de lipstick," she replied. Bitter just shook her head and dragged Whiskey out of the lh, it hard to be annoyed with her friend for long, especially when they were both up to no good.
Once outside, Bitter found a little hiding space for their bag of clothes and then the two girls started on their way, scanning the crowd. To their delight, two tall, tough-looking newsies were walking around, as if they were almost lost. Bitter nudged her friend and strolled over to them. "Hey boys," Bitter said in a sweet voice, "You look a little lost, but me an' Whiskey heah think we can show you de way."
Whiskey stifled a laugh at Bitter's corny pick up line and smiled seductively at the shorter of the two. "I don't know Bittah, dese two big strong men don't seem da type ta get lost. I think dey came heah lookin' foh exactly what dey found," Whiskey stated with a pouty smile and a singsong voice. The boys practically had their mouths hanging open and looked like a pair of idiots. What feminine seduction can do to men, Bitter thought to herself, laughing at them on the inside.
"You boys from around heah?" Whiskey asked, taking a step closer to one of them. The boy stumbled over his words and he ran his hand quickly through his brown hair, trying to think of what to say.
The other, who had blonde hair and icy blue eyes, stared coolly at the girls, trying to look more intelligent than his companion and answered lightly, "We were jist lookin' fer something ta do," he said.
Bitter looked at Whiskey and winked. "Well, we can show you around the place," she said, moving up close to him and touching his chest softly. "Up and down the block," she whispered seductively in his ear.
She watched his mouth drop and smiled, turning on her heel and striding into the nearest alley, motioning for the boys to follow, Whiskey following suit. She smiled at her friend who was close to giggling and then turned and pushed the blue-eyed boy up against the wall. "What's yer name?" she asked.
"Why?" the boy asked, looking suspiciously at her, his eyes getting icy.
Bitter trailed a finger down his chest, "So I can know what to scream later on tonight," she said.
The boy's eyes widened and he mumbled out his name a little too quickly at first and then had to repeat it, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Uh Trick," he said.
She smiled and nodded at Whiskey who was busy whispering sweet nothings to the boy as she slowly wrapped herself around his nervous frame. Bitter slowly put her hand down on her knee and began sliding the skirt of the dress up her thigh. His eyes widened with dirty thoughts flowing through his head.
Bitter grabbed her dagger from her thigh and put it up against his neck. She was fast and had him stunned. She took a step back and smirked at him. "I'll show you ta evah think I'd get in bed wid ya," she said, eyes glaring menacingly at him.
The brown-haired boy's thoughts cleared a little and his brown eyes furrowed as he realized the trouble that his friend was in. Whiskey chuckled at his concern as her voice returned to its normal deep, velvety tone, "Ah, ah, ah..." she scolded with a pout. "You wasn't thinkin' a goin' anywheah was ya? Because I'm sorry ta inform ya dat yer limbs are a little...twisted around mine, I really don't think you'se got a chance a getting them undone any time soon," Whiskey stated with a big smirk, playfully kissing him on the nose, a wicked and mischievous grin crossing over her features as the lust faded from his eyes and he realized that he truly was stuck.
"Did the two of yas really think you was gettin' any heah? Me wit me skirt up around me waist, my back poundin' against da wall a dis doity al' alley? Hell, ya didn't even tell me yer name," Whiskey stated with an overdramatic pout.
"Whatta take us fer?" Bitter asked.
"Common whores, dat's what dey took us for," Whiskey replied maliciously. "An' don't we look de part? But as you two found out, looks can be a little decievin'," Whiskey stated, shifting position so the boy was still restrained for the most part by her one arm and left leg as she made a scene of slowly reaching in between her breasts and taking out a switchblade. She opened the knife with a quick flick of her wrist and trailed it lightly down the ride side of the boy's face.
"What should we do wit dese two Whiskey?" Bitter asked, as she pressed the knife a little closer to Trick's throat, making breathing just a tad bit uncomfortable.
"I dunno," Whiskey said, making a small slit beneath the boy's chin, causing a small grimace to flicker across his face as he stubbornly refused to cry out. "Dere's a lotta things we could do," she said with a menacing grin.
Bitter nodded. "Hey Trick, ya got a knife?" she asked with a wide smirk. If there was one thing that Bitter was great at, it was fighting with a knife. It was the only part of her past that she found useful in a fight and used it often. Back when she lived in Chicago, she was part of a pickpocket gang called the Shadows and they were heavily involved with the famous knife fights that were occurring at the time. She was forced to learn to handle a knife correctly and found herself becoming quite skillful with the little dagger the leader of the gang had given her. When she had fled from Chicago, it was the only possession she had taken with her, not wanting to remember the horrid years she had spent there.
She saw Trick's blue eyes get viciously wide and a strange smile crossed his face. "That I do," he said coolly.
Bitter threw a glance at Whiskey and then let the guy go, thinking she could easily ruin his pride in a single knife fight. He impressively flicked out his switchblade, but his obvious skill only made Bitter feel a rush of adrenaline rush through her body as they began to circle each other.
Whiskey smiled, knowing how well Bitter could handle herself in a knife fight and turned her concentration to making the boy she was up against more nervous by the second as she slowly coursed the switch blade over his Adam's apple, letting it rest in the hollow of his throat. "Come on, you gonna scream for me? Beg me ta spare ya life? You was willin' ta let me do all the screamin' just a few moments ago," she stated wickedly as she tightened her hold on his arms, not wanting him to wriggle out of her grasp.
"One little slip an' yer poor little life is at an end," Whiskey whispered hotly in his ear. "Mmm, but then I'd get blood all over my dress, an we can't be havin' dat," she said as she kneed him hard in a most sensitive area and watched as his face crumpled in pain and he cried out a bit, going slack in her arms.
"Not ezactly the scream I was lookin' foh, but I guess a whimper's bettah den nothin'," she stated sadistically as she continued to whisper degrading comments into his ear, challenging everything from his masculinity to how quickly he let himself be taken in by simple feminine wiles.