It had started out a calm enough day, the two gangs of the city mostly sticking to their own turf. However, no good thing could last for long, and soon enough the Jets and Sharks were battling in the streets as usual.

At one point, the leader of the Sharks, Munkustrap, had gotten Tumble, one of the Jets, down on the ground, using a knife on his ear. Moments later, the Jets descended like an angry crowd, the leader, Macavity, going to Tumble like a protective father and holding out the bandana he usually had on his wrist to the younger gang member.

Just as the free for all was turning violent enough to ensue lasting injuries, a whistle sounded and Officer Growltiger stomped onto the scene.

Following Growltiger, Lieutenant Deuteronomy approached as well. His gaze swept over the assembled gangs, his eyes narrowing as they split into their two factions, "All right, go ahead and kill each other. But not on my beat."

Tumble eyed the cops and the other gang, Macavity's bandana pressed against his injured ear. Munkustrap held out a hand to stop any of his gang from moving until they got the lay of the land.

"Why, if it isn't Lieutenant Deuteronomy," Macavity said, posture and tone innocent.

"Top of the day!" several of the other Jets chirped, Tugger sweeping a mock bow to the plainclothes cop.

"And Officer Growltiger," Munkustrap supplied, innocence to match Macavity's in place.

The Sharks took their cue, touching their foreheads, "Top of the day, Officer Growltiger."

Deuteronomy frowned, "Boy, what you Puerto Ricans have done to this neighborhood..." He turned to Tumble, "Which one of them clobbered you, Tumble?" The boy glanced toward Macavity, taking a half step back.

"A PR?" Macavity asked, voice still innocent. "We actually think that there was the work of a cop." He may hate the other gang, but when faced with the police he'd rather stick with the other teens than the adults.

"Two of them, at least," Tugger added with a firm nod.

"Impossible," Growltiger growled in response.

Deuteronomy didn't look impressed, "Didn't nobody tell you there's a difference between being a stool pigeon and cooperating with the law?"

"You did," Mac said, still with a grin. "And we all chipped in for a prize for the first kid that can figure it out."

"Smartass," the lieutenant muttered. "I've got a surprise for you: you hoodlums don't own the streets. There's been too much raiding between you and the PRs." At that he turned to the Sharks, "All right, Munkustrap, get your trash out of here." He held his ground as the leader of the Sharks tensed, "Please."

Munkustrap considered the cop for a long moment before shrugging, "Let's go, Sharks." The gang filtered off.

Macavity let out a huff of breath at that, arching a brow at the cops. "So, you gonna give us the whole song and dance lecture too then?"

"Hardly a lecture, kid. But I don't care for traffic corners and that's where I'm gonna end up you keep this up. So, you are all gonna play ball with me. I gotta put up with the damn PRs and you do too. You're gonna play nice with 'em. Cause if you don't I'm gonna beat the livin' daylights outta every one of you and then run you in." He glanced at Growltiger, "Say good-bye to the nice boys, 'Tiger."

"Good day boys," the other cop said with a feral smile and Macavity took half a step backward, before waving jauntily at them. Deuteronomy shook his head slightly before striding off.

Once the cops at left Ricky, one of the youngest members of the gang thumbed his nose in their direction, "Good-bye, boys. They make a nice couple."

"You hoodlums don't own the streets," Tugger parroted back, bitterly. "Sure we don't you ass."

"Go play in the park," Ricky mocked.

"Get outta the house," Tumble murmured in response.

"Get out of here and keep off the world!" Tugger added, jumping up on a low hanging fire escape ladder. "A gang that don't own a street owns nothing."

Having watched his gang with his arms crossed over his chest, Macavity suddenly thundered. "We do own it!" Once he'd gotten all their attention, he continued, "Form up you guys. Tumble, your ear. Which one of those PRs did it?"

Tumble gave a half shrug, "Munkustrap. I heard him say it was 'cause of that stink bomb in the dress shop or soemthin'." He finally lowered the kerchief.

"Shoulda done worse," Tugger scolded. "Those PRs the reason my old man's gone bust."

"Says who?" Macavity demanded, leaning back.

"Well, my old man of course."

Ricky leaned over to Tumble, "My old man says his old man woulda gone bust anyhow."

"What did you say?" Tugger growled, leaning toward the other.

Macavity waved his hands, silencing them. "Plenty of old man's say they're ruining free enterprise, that ain't the point here..."

Ricky sidestepped to put Tumble between himself and the larger teen, "Well, what're we gonna do about it?"

"Fight them," Macavity said with a shrug. "We've fought hard for this territory, and I'm not letting these cops or the damn PRs take it from us. So let's speed up and clean them out in one all out fight."

"A rumble!" Tugger declared happily, jumping down from the fire escape ladder.

Tumble looked a bit wary at that, but Ricky nodded his agreement, "Hey, sounds like it'd work."

"Cool it," Macavity said, eying Tugger. "The Sharks'll want a place and all sorts of weapons. Who knows what sorts either, we just gotta be prepared. They could ask for bottles, knifes, zip guns or any manner of instruments."

"Zip guns?" Tumble squeaked slightly.

Macavity shrugged. "Not saying they will, but they could and if they do, well," he shrugged. "I'd much like to hold this territory like we always have, with skin! But they say switchblades and I'll get one. I say I want us to be number one, to sail, and to hold the damn sky!"

Tumble looked uncertain but nodded, "Then we hold it." Ricky nodded his agreement, glancing at the other gang members.

The other members whooped and otherwise celebrated for a moment before Macavity held his hands up for silence again. "We rumble!" There was some more excitement before he held his hands up higher. "Look, we gotta get a war council together, to decide on the place and the weapons. I'll make the challenge to Munkustrap."

"You gotta take a lieutenant," Tumblebrutus reminded him.

"That's me," Tugger said, puffing out his chest.

"No," Macavity said shortly. "It's Cor."

"Cor?" Tugger asked, scowling. "Who needs Cor? He don't belong anymore."

Macavity's eyes went cold. "Cut it. Cor and I started the Jets."

"He don't act like he wants to run with us anymore," Tugger said ,crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who wouldn't want to belong to the Jets?" Ricky looked like Tugger had grown another head.

"What about when we clobbered the Emeralds?" Tumble reminded, "Couldn't a done it without Cor."

Ricky agreed, "He saved my ever lovin' neck."

Still scowling, Tugger shrugged. "He ain't run with us over a month."

"He's a Jet," Macavity said. "And Jets always come through."

Tumble glanced between Tugger and Macavity, "Where are you gonna find Munkustrap?" he asked, trying to divert Tugger's anger at the mention of Coricopat.

"The dance tonight," Macavity declared.

"But the gym's neutral territory," came the hesitant comment.

"I'm gonna make nice there," he declared, spreading his arms. "I'm just gonna challenge him."

That earned a bit of a smirk and a shrug, "So you're gonna go find Cor then?"

"Yeah. Meet us at the gym at ten. Dress sharp and walk tall!"

"We always walk tall!" Ricky responded, almost indignantly, "We're Jets!"

"Good," he said with a nod, and with another jaunty wave when to go find his lieutenant.

w-w-w-w

Pouncival was walking Mistoffelees from school to the shop the other worked in. Partially because the other teen's brother had insisted on it and partially, mostly, because he wanted to talk to him away from the others, "Hey, Misto?"

"Yeah?" Mistoffelees asked, the small teen trying to sort the papers from his last class while he was walking so he wouldn't have to worry about them at the shop while still getting there on time.

"You know that dance tonight? You going?"

"I," he blinked hazel eyes upward. "I mean, if my brother is letting me go..."

"Well, would you...I mean, would you like to go with me?"

The smaller teen stumbled, nearly dropping the papers before blinking back at him. "Go to the dance? Like, together, romantically?"

Pounce shrugged, "Well, yeah? I mean...if you wanted to?"

"Well, I mean," Mistoffelees looked down rather than back at the other Puetro Rican. "It seems a little sudden, don't it?"

"Not...really? I mean, maybe?" The other boy sighed, "If you don't want to you just gotta say so."

"No, I mean," he bit his lip. "I don't know. I'm not adverse to it..." He just was never sure about Pounce, considering how often Munkustrap hinted they should be together.

"Well..." Pouncival sighed, "Would you at least think about giving it a try?"

"Yeah," he said after another pause. "I could give it a try."

That earned an uncertain smile, "So you'll go with me tonight then?"

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said, giving him an uncertain smile back. "It could be nice."

Pouncival managed not to indicate how disappointing that particular answer was as they reached the shop, "Well, looks like we're here..."

"So, I'll see you tonight?" Mistoffelees offered.

"I'll see you tonight," Pounce gave the other a bit of a grin, "Have a good afternoon."

"Yeah, have a good afternoon," Mistoffelees said, still giving him an uncertain smile. "See you."

Stepping into the store, he paused at the sight of Bombalurina, hands on her hips. "That boy looks crushed, Misto."

"You're reading too much into it," he muttered, setting up the sewing desk. She rolled her eyes, clicking her heels over to her own desk.

Pounce waited until the door was closed before turning and heading on his way to ditch his stuff and check in with Munkustrap. Better to find something to think about other than the fact that even as his one option Mistoffelees would rather not go to the dance with him.

w-w-w-w

Macavity leaned against the side of Doc's store, looking up at Coricopat on the ladder. "You can't well say no to me without telling me why?"

Coricopat was perched precariously, polishing the sign that looked like it had gone unpolished for years, "Why not?"

"Cause it's me asking! Mac!"

The other ignored that point, "You think this is shining enough?"

"Yeah sure, it's blinding," Mac drawled.

"Twenty-seven years, Doc's had this drugstore. I wonder how many times this things been polished since then."

"None, most like. Cor, this is important!"

"Very important, I'm sure. Acemen, Rocketmen, the whole lot," he glanced at Macavity but returned to his work.

Macavity scowled at him. "Hell's with you? Four and one-half year I live with a buddy and his family. Four and one-half years I think I know a man's character. But you... I am a victim of disappointment in you."

"End your suffering, then. Why don't you pack up your gear and clear out?" Coricopat asked, no real bite to his words, as he jumped down from the ladder.

"Cos your ma's all hot for me," Mac replied with a smirk.

Cor caught the other's arm and twisted it, "Right..."

Macavity laughed, pulling at his arm. "Na, it's cos I hate living with my buggering uncle! Now let go."

He was released once Coricopat heard the word 'uncle', though the other grinned for a moment, "Now. Go play nice with the Jets."

"Hey, the Jets are the greatest," Macavity protested.

"Were."

"Are! You find anything better?" he demanded, arms crossed over his chest. Part of the play melted off his face as he watched Coricopat.

"Well…" Coricopat shrugged very slightly, "No, but..."

"Then what's up?" the Jets leader demanded. "Come on Cor, you and me against the world. What's changed?"

"I want more out of life, Mac. That's what changed. I mean, there's something more out there."

Macavity just snorted. "Really? For kids like us. Dream on, Cor."

"Mac, I've got a decent job, I might be able to get out of here at some point. It's possible. I mean, there's something coming, something good. I can feel it. I just..."

"You just what? Walk away from all your friends in the meantime?"

"No! I just..." He shook his head, "I want the option to grow old. To die in my sleep rather than a pool of my own blood."

Macavity just rolled his eyes. "Sure you do. But right now, the Jets need you. I need you."

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"Look, I ain't here to debate philosophy with you, I'm here to win back our territory. Do I have my second or not?"

Cori sighed, "What time and where?"

"Dance at the gym tonight," Mac said with a grin. "Ten, and dress sharp like."

Coricopat offered him a half-hearted grin, "I'll see you there. And probably live to regret this..."

"Who knows?" Mac said with a wave as he pushed off. "Maybe you'll find this life thing there."

"Maybe so. Take care, Mac."

"Tonight, ten!" he reminded, walking away backwards.

"Tonight!" Coricopat watched him go before putting the ladder away, thinking about what could well come of that night. Something good, hopefully.

w-w-w-w

Mistoffelees sighed, putting the last of the projects away for the evening as Bomba held out a dark grey suit to him. "Oh, thank you," he said, taking it and eying her purple dress.

"Of course. Anything for my little brother," she said with a grin, before whirling to show off her own dress.

"You aren't married to my brother yet," he said, with a grin. "But I suppose you're right. You might as well be my sister."

"Now get dressed," she said, shooing him and the suit off. "I even have a nice tie and handkerchief for you."

Grinning for the first time since the dance had been mentioned, Mistoffelees retreated behind a curtain. "Bomba," he said after a moment. "When you look at Munkustrap... how do you feel?"

Bomba blinked. "What do you mean? Surely you don't expect me to explain all that..."

"Well, no," he said, buttoning the pants. "Just... when I look at Pounce... there's nothing."

"Maybe a non passionate love is worthwhile," she said with a shrug, ignoring the massive sigh from behind the curtain.

"So, you don't passionately love my brother?" he asked, pulling the shirt on and buttoning it.

"I do," she replied. "But that's why another sort might be better. Less scary. You wouldn't always be so terrified of what would happen to them, what would happen if you lose them."

"But," he started to protest as the door opened.

Munkustrap entered, Pouncival following him, "Are you two ready?"

"Almost!" Mistoffelees called from behind the curtain as Bomba handed him a purple tie.

"I am," she said and whirled around once for her lover.

Munkustrap grinned as he looked her over, pulling her close for a kiss, "And I must say you look beautiful."

Laughing, she returned the kiss before pulling away. "You're brother should look very nice, if he ever gets out of there."

Munkustrap pulled Bomba close again, his arm coiling around her waist, "Come on, Mistoffelees, we don't wish to be late."

"It's not my fault this shirt has so many buttons," he protested. "And there's the tie and... alright," he murmured, finally stepping out and tucking the handkerchief in his pocket as he came. "I'm done, I'm done. Are you sure this looks alright?"

His brother looked him over, "Looks very nice."

Pouncival nodded his agreement, "You look great, Misto."

He offered Pounce a faint smile, slipping his hands into the suit pockets. "Thank you."

"To the dance!" Bomba declared, clapping her hands.

Munkustrap opened the door to the shop, holding it open for the others, "Off we go then."

Trailing after him, the small group reached the gym to find the dancing already in swing, Macavity leading his gal, Griddlebone, through the music, the other Jets cheering him on. Munkustrap looked around, spotting the other Sharks there and nodding in that direction as he held his hand out to Bombalurina to lead her onto the floor. She went with him gladly, trying to show up the Jets with a dance full of latin flair.

The music came to an end and The two gang leaders drew their respective gals to opposite sides of the gym in order to meet with the other members of the gangs.

Mistoffelees laughed as his brother and Bomba approached. "Think you showed off enough?"

Munkustrap smirked a bit, "Hardly, we're just getting warmed up. Right?" He glanced at Bomba.

"Right," she nodded. "We shall wipe the floor with them next time."

"Exactly. How can we do otherwise when I have the most lovely woman here on my arm?"

Grinning, Bomba kissed his cheek. "Flatterer."

Across the gym, Mac cried out as Coricopat finally walked in. "You actually made it!"

Cori glanced toward the clock, "I'm on time for when I said I'd be here. Ten right?"

"Well, a little after ten now," Macavity said, embracing him. "Still, you had me worried."

"Me? Worry you? I told you I'd be here," Coricopat returned the embrace before stepping back. "Have I missed anything important yet?"

"Just some general dancing face offs," Mac laughed. "Still think my girl's a better dancer."

Griddlebone smiled as she wrapped her arm around Mac's, "That's because you're biased, but I'm hardly complaining."

"Me? Biased? Hardly," he said, twirling her around. She laughed, coming out of the spin and leaning up to kiss him. Returning the kiss, he smirked back at Coricopat. "Relax, enjoy the dance a little. We'll deal with business soon enough." With that, he led Griddlebone back to the dance floor.

Munkustrap saw the other leader starting for the floor as a crisp tune started, he offered his hand to Bomba, "Shall we show these Americans how it's done?"

"Of course, love," she replied, having to consciously not say the Spanish. He led her out onto the floor and promptly into the dance.

Clapping and cheering for his brother, Mistoffelees found his eyes straying to the other side before snapping them back again.

Coricopat's gaze moved over the Sharks, sizing them up, even as he cheered Mac on. His grey eyes stopped their movement when he spotted a young Puerto Rican. He blinked for a moment and glanced away to see how Mac and Griddlebone were actually doing.

This time when Mistoffelees' eyes trailed back around the gym, they met the grey eyes of the other, stopping both of them there. He took half a step forward before wavering again but not looking away. Coricopat swallowed, hesitating before moving over toward the refreshments table, it was the neutral ground of the neutral ground, though neither of the gangs had taken advantage of it up to this point.

Swallowing and glancing at the others of his group, Mistoffelees slunk away toward the table, meeting the other in the middle of it.

"Hello," the taller boy murmured.

"H-hi," Mistoffelees managed.

"Enjoying the dance?"

"I think so," Mistoffelees replied, eyes still trained on the other.

"Well, that's something," Coricopat offered the other a smile, trying to dismiss the thought he was having.

"And yourself?" Mistoffelees swallowed.

"I think so. It's, well it's a dance."

"I can't tell if you're saying that like it's a good thing," Mistoffelees said, offering him up a smile.

"I think it might be now..." Coricopat said, looking down at him.

Mistoffelees felt his stomach turn over. "You're not thinking I'm someone I'm not?"

"No. I know you aren't."

"Or that we've met before?"

"I know we haven't." Which was why this was such a bad idea...

"Then why are we...?" the smaller started.

Coricopat hesitated for a moment, considering apologizing a head of time, but instead leaned down to test the waters and kiss the other lightly. Shocked into freezing a moment, Mistoffelees leaned up and returned the kiss, his hands coming to rest on the other teen's shoulders.

It wasn't a perfect kiss, but it was close enough to qualify. Coricopat pressed down into the kiss, his arms curling around the smaller teen's waist as he pulled him closer.

On the Sharks' side of the gym, Munkustrap and Bombalurina had rejoined the gang at the end of the dance. Pouncival was looking around for Mistoffelees and froze when he spotted him, "The hell?"

Munkustrap blinked at him in confusion before turning. His entire body tensed and he strode over, yanking Coricopat back and slugging him stepping between the two, "Go home, American."

Macavity was abruptly there as well, growling at the Puerto Rican as Mistoffelees tried to blink himself back into reality. "Brother!" he protested, pulling back on Munkustrap's arm.

Coricopat blinked at that, mouthing the word 'brother.'

Munkustrap ignored his younger brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously at Macavity and addressed Coricopat as he consciously kept his words in English, "Keep your thrice-damned hands off of my brother."

Macavity's eyes snapped to Coricopat at that, shock clearly registering in his face. "And you keep your hands off my lieutenant!"

Still pulling on Munkustrap's arm, Mistoffelees stopped at that, swallowing hard.

"Lieutenant?" Munkustrap's voice grew cold. "Pouncival!" He snapped, waiting until the other had approached, "Take Mistoffelees home. Now!"

"But," the small teen started to protest and only drew back, nodding slightly those his gaze remained on the Jet. Pounce scowled in Coricopat's direction, but led Mistoffelees from the dance. The smaller teen kept glancing back until they were outside.

Munkustrap's lip curled in disgust at the other teens, "Can your lieutenant not fight his own battles?"

"Can your brother not?" Macavity replied, taking a step back and smoothing back his hair, smoothing his mood down at the same time.

"He does not have to," the response came through gritted teeth.

"Then neither does Cor," Macavity replied, shifting back.

Coricopat held his ground under Munkustrap's hard gaze, but only barely. The Puerto Rican finally shrugged, "Very well. Stay away from mi hermano, American. I will only tell you once."

Macavity stepped between them. "Look, this isn't what's relevant."

Munkustrap's gaze moved to meet Macavity's eyes, "Isn't it?"

"Well, not right now. Bitch fight it out between the two of you later. Right now, I want you. For a war council."

That got the other's attention, "When? Where?"

"Tomorrow. Doc's place. No funny business between now and then."

Munkustrap nodded, "Tomorrow night, Doc's."

"Sure. Say, nine?" Macavity said with a shrug.

"Nine o'clock it is then. No weapons. Safe passage to and from."

"Of course," Macavity said. "We're civilized folk here."

"You and civilization have never existed together," Munkustrap replied, bitingly.

Macavity laughed. "Says the uncivilized. Tomorrow, nine. We'll talk then." With that, he grabbed Coricopat's arm and dragged him away. Munkustrap glowered after the pair of them before turning to Alonzo to discuss logistics.

Coricopat allowed himself to be dragged, shaking Macavity off once they were away from the other gang, "What?"

"What what? Locking lips with the enemies brother was, what, your idea of a joke?"

"No. I didn't know he was his brother."

"He clearly belonged with them!" Macavity snapped, waving an arm across the gym.

"What's your point?" Coricopat asked, swallowing and on the defensive.

"My point? That's not entirely clear?" his friend glowered at him. "You're kissing the enemy's brother. The group we're doing our damnest to wipe off our territory. What the hell are you thinking?"

Coricopat crossed his arms, "That maybe they aren't that different from us? That he was cute, that maybe I want a life that doesn't see it as us versus them? What part of some of these things did I not make clear earlier?"

Macavity scowled at him. "But you'll be there, tomorrow?"

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Could skip work," Macavity snapped, more worked up then he liked. Smoothing his hair down again, he turned, moving back toward Griddlebone. Coricopat scowled after him, but turned on his heel and left the dance, heading for Puerto Rican territory.

Hello, readers, and welcome to a new story.

Your note today, from Victoriousscarf: This story means a lot to me personally. I, more than Meadow, have a very long history with West Side Story, as it was my grandpa's favorite play, and thus it will always be associated with him to me. I don't remember the first time I saw the 1961 movie because I saw it when I was so young. Last weekend, Meadow and I had a chance to see the Revival Tour of this play, which is what prompted this story. It follows to libretto for the play more than the film, so those familiar with the film will run into some changes, as well, of course, as the changes our own characters made to the text.

Not that readers need or even should be familiar with the story in question. In fact it might be more interesting for those who don't know West Side Story to read it. So please don't let the source material turn you off. However, as a warning for those that haven't seen West Side Story, this is an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.

We are very excited to bring you this story, and it is rather different from some things we've written in the past. We hope our readers enjoy this just as much, and please, please take some time to leave some feedback. It means so much to your author team to hear from readers. Cheers all, and thank you for taking the time to read this.