Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Michaela 'Micki' Andrea Jones. I also own Dan and Micki's brother, Lee. I do not own Cruella de Ville or any other tv or movie characters mentioned.
(A/N: This story doesn't have much to do with my story, 'Tears from the Moon' but it is an epilogue to Fred and Lily's stories. :) A handful of Dan's explanation to Micki about who Oscar is, is true. The Delancey streets in New York and in San Fransisco were named after him. He was a gangster back in the newsie's times. However, I have no idea if he met Al Capone or not, I just threw that in because I like reading about Al Capone and other 1920s and 30s gangsters. The true information about Oscar came from: The Definitive Newsies Resource.)
August 31, 1900
Oscar Delancey wanted to do nothing more than pound Jack Kelly's face into the brick wall; but he knew it would be impossible with Jack's wife, Lily around. Though he disliked her, he respected the fact she was ex-Warden Snyder's daughter. He also respected the fact she carried a Pinkerton Badge, he had seen he flash it a few months ago when she helped arrest a pickpocket.
"What's wrong, Oscah, tongue tied?" Cowboy laughed as he raced around him in a circle.
"Just you wait, Kelly! I'm going pound your face in so badly-"
"That you'll what, Oscar?" Lily questioned softly but forcefully. Her eyes flashed and she squared her jaw as she stared up at him.
Oscar bit back a growl and before he could say anything Morris muttered at him to shut up.
"Ain't you got some kinda undercova job?" Morris sneered to Lily.
"And why on Earth would I tell you if I did or didn't? Anyway, this chase is rather old. You've been chasing my husband around for years, isn't time to let bygones be bygones?"
"Gee, awright," Oscar played along, "We'll stop chasin' him an' youse can stop arrestin' our buddies!" The look that crossed the young Pinkerton Detective's face was priceless. She sneered at him.
"I'm going to continue doing my job, Oscar," Lily replied, "One day you may come to me for help."
"Yeah, like dat would evah happen," Morris snorked.
Lily took a step forward and stared at both the brothers.
"I'se takin' bets! Two bits says Lily will soah da brothers!" Racetrack exclaimed, only to be elbowed by his fiancee, Winifred, who preferred being called 'Fred'. "What? I'se just makin' a bet!"
"On the fact that she could get hurt!" Fred replied, anger shining in her eyes. "Lily is a strong woman, yes, but she'll need help."
"Yeah, and her husband will give it ta heh," Race shrugged, "Right Jack?"
"Right," Jack replied, his blue eyes glued to Lily.
Oscar glanced over the large and loud crowd of newsies. When he and his brother were hired to work for the World they were told they'd be the main muscle to keep the newsies in line. At first it was easy, the newsies had been little and scrawny as tiny kids. But now many of those scrawny kids had grown into annoying teenagers....The most annoying of the group being Jack Kelly. Even after the strike he was still a pain in the ass. What Oscar wouldn't give to find a way to break he and Lily apart; Cowboy would be chasing after her for weeks.
"Da gates ah openin'," Morris grunted from beside him. "Either we go in or soak Kelly now."
"We'se gonna do worse dan dat," Oscar whispered back, "We'se gonna separate him and his 'darlin'' little Lily."
"Forget dat," Morris snorted, "She ain't nothin' like Davey's sistah. I can tell youse right now, if she hits me, her target ain't gonna be a brick wall."
Oscar rolled his eyes and shuddered at the mere memory of Sarah Jacobs. Damn that girl had been dumb! At first he thought he had been in for a fiesty wild cat the way she had been fighting when he and Morris were trapping her in that alley way. Yet, the moment David came running towards her rescue, the heroine turned into a damsel in distress. She hadn't lifted a finger to try to help her brother, instead she sat there holding her brother. She watched as her brother was soaked and all she did was scream. Then, a few months after the strike she came sauntering to him looking for husband material; it was then he learned Jack was engaged to Lily.
That was the only smart move Cowboy had ever made. He had finally ignored Sarah and moved onto a smarter and better woman, not to mention one with looks.
"Oscar."
"What?" He snapped as he focused on Lily.
"Don't you usually wear a cross?"
Oscar glanced down and his heart jumped into his throat. His father's cross was missing!
"Which one of youse bums took it?!" He snapped and grabbed hold of the nearest newsie he could find. Unfortunately that newsie had been Mush Meyers, the strongest of all the newsies.
"I'se would watch wheah youse put dat fist, Oscar," the newsie warned. Oscar snarled and pushed the kid away from him and glanced at Morris. Before he could ask his brother if he noticed where the necklace was the bell rang and the tall iron gates of the Distribution Center swung open.
"Wheah da hell could it be?" He muttered to himself as he pushed his way through the ocean of newsies.
Modern Day....
19 year old Michaela Jennings wiped the sweat from her brow as she put down her hammer. For two years now she had been working for her father's landscaping company. She couldn't complain since her parents were the only ones who could afford to hire her at the moment; yet, she wished he hadn't sent her off to the New York branch of his landscaping business. The city was huge, not that it intimidated her, she was just use to the quietness of the small Georgia town she had lived in until two years ago.
"Hey, Micki!" Shouted the crew's boss, Daniel Fielding. He was a nice guy, though a man whore when it came to women around his age (she guessed he was in his mid thirties) or a decade younger.
"Yeah, Dan?" She asked as she sat down in the emerald green grass lawn of some rich person who lived in lower Manhattan.
"Y'know what dis place used ta be, don't ya?"
"No idea," she replied, "A garden?"
Dan threw back and laughed, causing his large adam's apple to bob up and down in his throat. Sometimes the man reminded her of an ostrich. He was tall and lanky with shaggy golden blonde hair and blue eyes. Everyone in lower Manhattan's landscaping crew called him Stick Man since he was so thin and gangly.
"Nope, dis heah used to be part of Newspaper Square! Or some called it Newsie Square, since dere was all these newspaper distribution offices everywhere. The World was da largest one. Me great-great grandfather, Oscar Delancey, used to work heah. Y'know about Oscah?"
"Who couldn't?" She replied, "He has a street here and in San Francisco named after him. He was a powerful gangster as an adult."
"Yep, as a kid and into his early twenties he used ta work for da World as muscle ta keep da newsies in line. Dere was dis one newsboy, Jack Kelly, who he hated with a passion. He was always drivin' me granddad bug nuts. Swingin' on da huge iron gates, stealin' his or his brudda's hat, and just flat out insulted him and his brudda, Morris. After dis Jack kid got married, Oscah decided he'd have to outdo da newsboy leader and dated a beautiful woman. He didn't learn until two months later she was a prostitute."
"So what became of him after that?"
"He started workin' for Manhattan's most powerful gangstah at da time, Trench. He did little errands foah him an' odd jobs until he rose up ta be da third in command. When Trench was arrested his second in command took over until he was hot. Den Oscah take over and became da most powerful gangster in New York at dat time."
"Wonder how he and Al Capone would have gotten along," Micki muttered.
Dan smirked, "Dey met when Oscar was real old. He hated Capone an' Capone hated him. Break's over, back ta work!"
"You're killin' me!" Micki whined.
"Ya don't get paid to whine, you get paid ta landscape while ya whine! Now up, start diggin' over there, we're gonna put a little pond in."
"Oh sure, stick me with the shovel! There had better be no dead newsies under here!" She exclaimed jokingly and went to the large white trailer and grabbed hold of a shovel. She passed a few other men and one woman she had come to know as close friends. She walked in middle of the yard where a tree line formed a semi circle, a large orange 'x' had been spray painted onto the grass by Dan. She began to dig and Dan took over hammering the fancy stake lights on the sides of the long gravel driveway.
Half an hour later her shovel scraped something hard and solid, she stooped down and wondered what it was. She stuck her hand inside the hole, glad she was wearing gloves as an earthworm crawled past, and pulled out a long chain with a some kind of pendant hanging from it. The chain and pendant were both caked in mud and dirt and they had been down too far to have been lost recently.
"Dan!" She called out.
"Yeah?" He asked as he stood from his hammering.
"I found this where I was diggin'!"
He walked over and took the necklace from her and brushed away the dirt and mud as well as he could with his thumb.
"Bernie! Come over heah! Bring da hose!" He shouted. A few minutes later the necklace was hosed down the pendant revealed itself to be an old cross.
"It's beautiful!" Micki whispered. The cross was three inches long and made of gold. The each corner of the cross was topped with a Fleur de Lis and in the middle of the cross was a tiny diamond. Dan turned it over in his hand and jumped.
"What?!" Micki asked, startled.
"Look at da name!" He exclaimed as he pointed at a few small crudely etched letters. Micki leaned forward and pushed her thin and pale pink wire frame glasses up her nose.
"Oscar Delancey.....Oscar...Wait...That's your grandfather, so this is..."
"Da cross he lost!" Dan replied wide eyed, "A lotta people believe dat this cross is a clue in his murder."
"Murder? I thought he died of old age?"
Dan shook his head, "I don't know....Some say he was alive in thirties, while others say dat was his brudda, Morris. No one knows for shoah, but it's in agreement dat he was probably murdered and his necklace coulda been da murder weapon."
Micki stared in amazement, "Shouldn't we give it to the police then?"
"Well....We'se found it....And it happened so long ago it ain't worth investigatin'. Dere probably isn't anyone still alive who could tell us what 'appened."
"Should we give it to the owners, since it was on their property?" Micki frowned.
"Deys said anythin' we'se find is ours," Dan replied, "I make dem sign a contract statin' dis. Hey, ya religious?"
"I'm Catholic and Lakota," she replied with a shrug.
"Here," he put the cross into her hand.
"Wait! This was your grandfather's, you should keep it-"
"I have his pocket watch," he smiled. "Sides, I'se ain't a big fan of organized religion."
"But even so....This is your family history!"
"History is history and I'se would prefer dat cross to stay history. Me sistah would slam me with one law suit after anudda if she knew I'se had dat thing. She wants it so bad she can taste it."
"Shouldn't she have it then?"
"You'se ever met Isabelle?"
"No."
"Yer lucky. Let's put it this way, even Cruella de Ville would be terrified of her."
"That is bad," Micki replied as she stared at the pendant, "I wonder when he lost it."
"Don't know. But he was sure upset when he did. He blamed Jack Kelly for it until da day he died." He paused and looked around the huge yard, "Eh, we're not even near half way done."
Micki frowned, "Dad needs to send more people out here."
"You are more people. I'se told him two yeahs ago, 'I'se need more people out heah in da Lower Manhattan area.' One week later I'm pickin' up his youngest daughter from da airport. If I'se tell him we need more people he might send me his mother....Uh, don't tell I'se said dat."
Micki laughed, "You know my dad all too well. He's a bit of an anti-social."
"A bit?" Dan asked wide eyed, "Hell, it took him a month to finally decide to interview me for a job when he was heah. I'se don't know how dat man runs three branches of his landscaping business when he hates people."
Micki just shrugged, "That's my dad for ya."
That evening Micki wanted to do nothing but collapse into bed. She wanted to sleep and be left alone. But she knew that would be impossible because her older brother, Lee, would be visiting around eleven. He was passing through Manhattan on his way to New Jersey for a business meeting. Lee had gone from landscaper to some rich guy's personal big shot lawyer.
As she stepped into the shower she began to wonder about Oscar's cross again. When had the man lost it? The chain wasn't broken and the clasp closed fine. The chain was extremely strong, it wouldn't break unless someone really tugged on it hard for a good long minute or longer. It couldn't have just slipped off, unless he had taken it off before beating up one of the newsies. She paused, what had the newsies said instead of 'beating up'? She'd have to ask her friend Tamara, who was studying to become a historian.
Everything happens for a reason. Her grandmother, Ada, a Lakota Sioux would tell her at the moment. One way or another, destiny will come down the road to greet you. It can be in shape of a two legged, a four legged, or even an item....
Micki pulled the shower curtain open after turning off the water and stared at the cross. That cross was just a coincidence it had nothing to do with destiny. It was just a necklace, one that was historical, but other than that a piece of jewelry. She believed in a lot of things her grandmother did, but not everything. Especially not an item being a key to her destiny.
She glanced at her watch on the counter and gave a curse under her breath. Lee would be there in a matter of minutes. She dried herself and braided her hair into a tight braid then grabbed her watch and the cross from the counter and darted towards her closet. She dressed in her favorite light blue denim jeans, a white tank top, and a checkered red and white over shirt that she knotted below her chest. She slipped her watch on followed by the cross and her glasses. She walked over to the bathroom mirror to make sure she looked alright when her neck and chest began to burn.
Micki let out a small cry when she realized the golden cross was burning hot. Though it was hot, it wasn't burning her or her clothes. She grabbed the chain and yelped when it burned her fingers and palms.
"Shit, shit, shit, of course I would be the one to get a possessed cross!" She muttered under her breath as she ran and skidded into the kitchen. She quickly searched through her junk drawer under the microwave and found the pliers. Just as the pliers made contact with the chain her apartment's door bell began to ring and the cross became unbearably hot. The last thing she recalled seeing before passing out was a young teenage blonde boy wearing a cheap cowboy hat staring down at her. Beside him was a pretty young woman reaching towards her necklace.
June 3, 1900
"Of course, dis is an insult too!" Cowboy shouted as he flicked Morris's hat off.
Oscar found himself once again seeing red. Before he could even step towards that bratty kid the newsies began screaming and pointing.
"It's just like Fred!" Racetrack exclaimed, "One minute she wasn't dere and den she was dere!"
Fred glanced at Race, "Spot talks too much."
"Not as much since he married Floaty," the Italian newsboy shrugged.
"The back of her head is bleeding," Lily exclaimed, "Fred, could you get me a cloth?"
"Heah, I'se got one!" Cowboy exclaimed as he stole Morris's handkerchief.
"Give dat back, Kelly!" Morris shouted before he began a sneezing fit. Oscar rolled his eyes, of all times why did his idiot older brother choose to get sick now? He shoved past the crowd of newsies and looked down at the young woman lying on the ground on her side. Her face was round, like an angel's; her hair was a strawberry blonde color, she wore a low cut undershirt and an open over shirt. She always wore denim trousers and strange rubber shoes.
"Wait a minute..." A newsgirl exclaimed before she shoved him out of the way.
"Hey!" Oscar shouted, "Youse do dat again-"
"You'll soak me? I'd like to see you try," the newsgirl snarled, "The streets I came from were worse than these and I want too I can have you dead in minutes."
"If I wanted too I could have you dead in minutes," Oscar mimicked in a high tone of voice, "HA!"
The newsgirl rolled her eyes and looked at Race, "Race remember I told you of the place I came from? How people wear strange clothing?"
"Yeah...Wait...She's from...There?"
The newsgirl nodded, "She's from there. When I came here it was from being shot, but I don't see anything wrong with her other than the head wound." She frowned as Lily gently pressed the handkerchief against the swollen cut.
"It doesn't appear very deep," Lily muttered, "I think she'll be okay, though her head is going to hurt badly for the next few days."
"Can you roll her onto her back? I can check her pockets for....Uh...Clues to who she is," the newsgirl exclaimed and tensed. Oscar raised an eyebrow, this newsgirl had always been the weird one. After a moment he remembered her name was Fred. Stupid name for a girl.
He watched as Lily rolled the girl onto her back, she let out a small whimper.
"Jack, brace her head."
Oscar watched as Cowboy knelt down and put his hands under the woman's head. His gave traveled down her body, she wasn't thin like most of the women he was used to seeing. Instead she was curvy as his eyes traveled back up her body they stopped on her chest. A moment later someone smacked the back of his head.
"Hey!" He spun and found Kid Blink sneering at him.
"It's rude ta stare at certain parts of a woman, even more rude when she's unconscious!"
"When ain't youse just Mr. Morality," Oscar muttered under his breath and looked back at the unconscious girl. Fred had pulled a thin brown floppy thing from her pocket. When she opened it and he saw a few dollar bills he realized it was some sort of fancy wallet.
"I'se never seen one like dat before," Mush whispered to Blink.
"Neither have I," Blink replied.
"Her name is Michaela Andrea Jennings," she exclaimed.
"How da hell do youse know dat?" Oscar asked as he walked closer to see what Fred was staring at. She slammed shut the wallet before he had a chance to look into it.
"I just know," Fred retorted. "We need to get her inside, the lodging house is too far away."
"Hey don't da Delanceys have a small apartment behind da distribution centa?"
Oscar's eyes widened, "Dere ain't no way youse bringin' dat goil into our--UMPH!" He was elbowed in the side before he could finish and glared at Morris.
"Deys actually want into our house," Morris muttered, "It means da newsies will owe us a favor."
Suddenly his stupid brother wasn't so dumb after all.
"Awright, fine," Oscar growled as he grabbed the keys from his vest pocket and unlocked the iron gate. The morning sun started to become brighter and as it did one of it's rays flashed off a pendant around the girl's neck. Oscar's mouth went dry and his anger returned when he found his cross around the girl's neck.
-------------------
"Miss? Can ya heah me?"
The paramedics....It has to be. The boy and woman I saw were nothing but illusions. Figments of my mind. Lee's probably standing over me worried sick right now. Micki thought to herself as she forced her eyes to open. The room was not well lit and she could only see blurs, had someone taken off her glasses? She reached up and felt the ear piece of the frame. No they were still on, her eyes had yet to focus. She blinked a few times before looking towards the voice.
Her mouth felt as if cotton had been stuffed into her and shock ran through her body. The kid with the cowboy hat was sitting on the end of her bed, on the side of the bed sat the girl. Her eyes widened as she glanced around the room, there was one other girl in the room with dark brown hair. For some reason she looked oddly familiar. Something to do with a hospital. Maybe she had been watching too many Dr. Quinn's? Her gaze traveled to the end of the bed again, behind the boy dressed as a cowboy stood two men. One was tall with raven black hair and a thin mustache. He was staring at her with an expressionless face. He reminded her of the men on TV who portrayed hired killers, they usually hid their emotions and waited like a rattle snake to strike.
Beside the tall man stood a shorter one with blonde hair and brown eyes. Like the tall man he wore a black bowler cap, only this one had a red feather tucked into the side of hat's band. His jaw was squared, and although he was drop dead gorgeous he looked angry enough to spit nails. She quickly glanced away from him and back to the woman who talked to her.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Lilly Kelly, the man sitting on the end of the bed is my husband, Jack. The woman behind me is Fred. And the two standing at the end of your bed are the owners of the apartment, Oscar and Morris Delancey.....They uh....Aren't usually very hospitable, but I think they like you." She gave a tiny smile.
Micki looked at the blonde one once again, "Sweetie, that man doesn't like me. That man looks ready to put a bullet through my skull. If you don't mind I think I'd like to run for my life now." She exclaimed and tried to sit up. The moment she dead a throbbing pain made her cry out and the room began to spin around her.
"Don't do that!" Lily scolded as she gently pushed Micki back onto the mattress. "Oscar looks at everyone like that!"
"O....Oscar?"
"Yes, I just introduced you to him. Oscar Delancey."
"Oscar....Delancey? The Oscar Delancey?"
"Oscah's famous? How did dat happen?" Jack exclaimed as he wrinkled his nose, "Eh, must be da stink."
Micki glanced at the boy, "Jack Kelly....Cowboy....Oh dear God.....I'm asleep, I'm passed out, I'm on the floor of my apartment obsessing over what my grandmother said! No wait that cross knocked me out....I think..." she frowned. "But Oscar Delancey!"
"Yeah, dat's me! Don't wear me name out! I'se like da sound of it, but now it's just gettin' old," he snarled.
"Here..." Micki reached for the chain of the necklace and winced as she prepared for it to burn her hands. To her surprise it was room temperature. She took it off and tossed it to him, "I never want to see that danged thing again as long as I live!"
"Youse stole me cross!"
"I found it in the ground when we were landscaping.....Wait...A moment here....Oscar Delancey died years ago. Either that or Al Capone killed him..." Micki mused out loud to herself her eyes wide.
"Huh?" Oscar asked.
"Nothing...Where....When am I?"
"What?!" Morris asked, "And people call me stupid."
"She's not stupid!" Fred scolded, "It's June 3, 1900. I know it seems impossible, but I swear it's true....I ah....Know what you're going through, later we'll talk."
Micki glanced at her and nodded.
"You're name is Michaela, right?" Fred asked.
"Yeah, but please call me Micki. Only my parents call me Michaela, usually when I'm in trouble. So I'm....Really in 1900? No joke? No hallucinations?"
"Afraid not, this is 1900. What do you last remember?" Fred asked as she crossed her arms.
"The last thing I remember is getting dressed because my brother was coming to visit. 1900....Good God in heaven, I time traveled! Oh shit!"
Everyone in the room jumped.
"What?" Micki asked in confusion.
"Um....Nothing," Fred smirked.
Lily stared at Micki as if she had just committed a crime, "Women and girls don't uh usually curse here..." She blushed.
"Oh please, Lily!" Fred rolled her eyes, "You and other newsgirls, hell even Floaty, has cursed! Here it's a way of life."
"I have a curse jar at home," Micki laughed, "If I had money I'd have to give you all a quarter each to try and stop my cursing."
"Unless you're rich I wouldn't dat," Jack chuckled.
"Alright 'Micki'," Oscar exclaimed suddenly, "How da hell did youse get heah and how do youse know about me?!"