March 1892

The cocker spaniel's ears picked up at the quick succession of knocks that came from the front of the Victorian styled home, which was followed by a very audible call. Pushing one of her ears out from in-front of her face she slowly raised her head from the pillows, her heavy eyelids beginning to open ever so slightly to determine if it was still night. Her mate, a gray motley looking fellow, lay with his head snuggled into her shoulders, his chest slowly rising and falling in the early stages of sleep as he snuggled up to his beloved mate. It was early in the morning, and the great house was silent and motionless outside from the soft ticking of a grandfather clock positioned in the hallway. At first, she felt the urge to just lay her head back into the comfort of the pillows and write the knocking off as a product of the cold wind that seemed to bluster against the warm home, but when the young voice of the call boy echoed from the front door again, she knew her slumber was over.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dear, call to take out the Horse and Cart at seven!" A faint squeak of a voice called out from the street below. "The regular engineer has the shakes. You guys want to temp?"

"What perfect timing," her mate moaned as he rolled over to face away from her, eyes still held shut. "I was just starting to drift."

"It's your turn to answer the door, dear. I got it the last time." She ended her sentence by leading into a soft yawn.

"Do you think if we just stay really still and not make a sound, he will give up and go away?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Dear! Are you awake?" the squeaky voice called again, now more unsure.

"I guess not." The mongrel said as he sat up, pushing the thick blanket and sheets off. Rolling out of the big feather bed, careful not disturb his cocker spaniel lover, he turned up the gas lamp, which brought a thin glow of light to the room. Standing up and stretching, he looked down at her with tired eyes. "C'mon, Pidge, let's layoff and tell him to find another. It's just a fill in job after all."

Lady rose to a sitting position, heavy eyelids fluttering open ever so slightly, and she gazed over at the clock. With a soft sigh, she resigned her fate to the time, then looked at her mate and shook her head no, her two mahogany furred ears fluttering around her shoulders. She had a way of saying a lot with very few words. Even with her fur disheveled and exhaustion clear in her features, the look she gave him, muzzle cocked and one eyebrow raised questioningly, said far more than any statement. As early as it was, she would not disobey her loyalty.

Grudgingly, he gave in and his gray triangular ears fell forward in defeat. "You win, let me throw something on and I'll take care of him while you make yourself more proper."

Padding to his dresser he got out a pair of slacks. After tugging them on he ambled downstairs, the pads of his paws thumping on the soft carpets. The home he shared with Lady wasn't large, but it was finely appointed and warm and welcoming. It was in a newer part of town, and Tramp sometimes wondered how it was he and Lady had been able to afford such a place. She had always been such a sheltered dog growing up, and he had lived most of his life drifting from one town to the next. Having a home together was something that filled the mongrel up with pride. Flicking on a gas lamp in the hall, he slid up to the front door.

"Hello, Lucky," Tramp said as he opened the door to the glowing lamp of the call boy and a blast of cold night air against the fur of his bare chest. "A bit nippy tonight for you to be out and about."

"Sorry to wake you," the spotted dalmatian pup said with a hesitant smile. As a 'call boy', his job was to go to the residence of the next available crew and alert them of an oncoming duty. So he was used to often finding himself on the bad end of a tired engineer. Short and scraggly, Tramp could see in the lamplight that his clothing bore streaks and patches of coal dust. "But we need a temp. Your regular locomotive, the Dispatch, still had steam in her so I was sent to call. It's the Horse and Cart."

"That's alright," Tramp said with a smile of his own set against the bushy fur of his muzzle. "We weren't asleep anyway. Lady and I will be down there as quick as we can."

"Uh, Mr. Dear, is it alright if I warm up for a bit? I still have to fetch the rest of your crew, and it's bitterly cold out tonight." His words faded off to a faint hopeful smile.

"Of course." Tramp's annoyance at being pulled from an evening's rest with his mate was quickly forgotten. "It's going to take Mrs. Dear a few moments to get dressed. Why don't you come into the parlor and warm up?"

After Lucky entered, Tramp closed the door and headed down the hall to the master bedroom where he found Lady already halfway dressed, having slipped into a skirt and blouse. The bed had already been made, and the spaniel was sitting by the carved wooden dresser. She was engaged in sliding on a set of warm woolen stockings. Lady turned her head, silky ears swinging, to see him poke his scruffy gray muzzle around the doorway. She was truly a beautiful spaniel. Though she was in her early thirties she had the young body of a twenty-year-old, with soft honey colored fur and long mahogany colored ears which ended at her mid-breast level. Her docked tail wagged happily against the seat of her denim skirt.

"My, oh my, even in work clothes you clean up well," the mongrel said with a chuckle. "You know Pidge, you're too wholesome for a job like this."

"All these years and you're still a flirt." Lady smirked, brushing her left ear with a hand. Her large brown eyes were twinkling at the mongrel as he leaned his tall lanky frame against the door-frame. "So, what job has us leaving our home at such an inhospitable hour?"

"It's the Horse and Cart. Seems it's ready to move." His muzzle twisted into a snort, eyes rolling.

The Horse and Cart was a train that started on one end of the railroad and slowly made its way to the other, picking up and setting off cars along the way. It did not have a set schedule and moved whenever it was ready, meaning its arrival could be at any point in the day or night. Its slow and lumbering pace gave rise to its name.

"I can't believe we're going to rush out into the early hours for a wayfreight," Tramp grumbled, crossing his arms, strong and firm from a career stoking locomotive boilers. "You sure we shouldn't just tell the kid to move onto the next crew on his list?"

Lady brushed the fur of one ear, pulling the hairs into neat orderly waves. "It wouldn't be proper. If it helps, look at it this way; we'll get a nice long rest in Chattanooga since we're forfeiting our hours here." She looked up at him, a soft twinkle in her chocolaty brown providing a promise. While there was no denying Lady's loyalty to the company, glancing over at the front on the window glass she found the feather bed to a far more welcoming invitation than the cab of a freight train.

Tramp placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a soft hug, running the bottom of his muzzle over the top of her head. "I know Pidge, just we're not getting any younger, and I would like to start spending more time with you and less on the railroad."

Lady's eyelashes fluttered and she rolled her head slightly to one side to let him nuzzle her. "Oh, I agree, but well...we shall have to talk about it later. For the moment, duty calls."

She watched as her mate dug through the closet, quickly throwing on a coat over his work clothes. Once he was dressed he held out his arm out for Lady to take it. Together they went to their parlor to collect Lucky and gather their railroad kit before the trio set out into the night. Lucky led the way with his lantern with Tramp and Lady walking arm in arm behind him. As they left the fine neighborhood behind them, Tramp bent his head slightly down and gave the spaniel a gentle kiss on her forehead. Lady smiled and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

While Lady and Tramp headed for the railyard, Lucky made a diversion to locate the next two names on his list. The cobblestone streets and stone sidewalks of the little mountain town gave off a damp feel from moist morning air, and their surfaces glistened under a sheen of dew, the carriage wheels creating trails and wakes as they splashed through the puddles. The late hour meant that the gas-lit streetlamps were still burning, and the carriage lamps were all inflamed. Despite the chilly bite, the rising sun meant that the last vestiges of Jack Frost would soon burn off to a beautiful spring day. Jogging down the sidewalk, the young pup found himself at the doors to a public house that served both railroad and highwaymen.

Inside the air was pungent with cigarette smoke, and the floor was covered with a combination of cigarette butts and sawdust. Lucky had no trouble finding his intended targets. The place was practically empty due to the late hour, save for a slim blonde furred female sitting on a bar stool at the counter. Her bushy tail was flicking at the wooden legs. Her face was accented by a cute little muzzle, and a set of big blue eyes and silky eyelashes. A small tuft of a bang fell before her eyes, between two pointed ears, one of which seemed to permanently fold down. A small but fruitful bosom gave away her youthful age, and her thin and firm stomach gave away years of hard work.

"Miss Dust?" he said waltzing up to the older woman. "Angel Dust? You and Scamp Dear have both been called. The Horse and Cart needs a crew. Leaving at seven!"

Angel's floppy ears perked as she looked over her shoulder at the dalmatian As she swung around in the bar stool, another dog approached. In his hands he held two mugs of coco, foaming at the brims. He had just picked them up from the lioness barmaid who was busying herself with cleaning the bar before the morning rush.

She slipped a hand into her vest pocket to produce a pocket watch, delicately flicking the lid open to check the time.

"Sorry, Scamp, looks like we've been called." The lid on the watch closed with a soft click. "Tell Vitani to close our tab."

Scamp's face dropped, triangular flapped ears falling on each side of his head. "Jeez really Angel? We just pulled an evening shift in the yard. Less then a few hours ago. Aren't we supposed to get some sort of rest?"

Scamp looked much like a younger version of the Tramp, with a scruff of head fur between his triangular flapped ears. His chocolate brown eyes were the same shade as both his parents and his tail seemed to perpetually wag. He was younger than Angel but stood eye to eye with her.

"Afraid not," Angel shrugged, "But look on the bright side. Over the road jobs pay more then switching. Could be more coin in our hands. Plus, we'll work with your parents. So, that's a plus."

Scamp's ears flicked back in displeasure as he placed the mugs on the counter top. His right eyebrow arched, and his mouth became a thin line set against the scraggly fur of his face.

"Well, I'm not going back out there on an empty stomach," He started, plopping down into a stool next to Angel. "And we've already paid for these. So, as long as the call boy doesn't mind... why don't we put a little warmth in our bellies before we head for the yard."

Lucky shrugged. Sure, he had pulled crews from worse then a few mugs of coco. As long as neither were late for duty, he didn't mind. Besides, the pub was vastly warmer and more welcoming than the cold streets.

"Well tenderfoot, when you're right, you're right," Angel flashed a toothy smirk and grabbed her mug.

While Scamp practically downed his drink, Angel leaned against the bar and took a kindly sip while Lucky plopped himself into a stool, his back against the counter. Looking the young Dalmatian over, Angel couldn't help but notice a sense of familiarity around him. One corner of her mouth turned up, and an eyebrow rose as she pondered where exactly she had seen the dog before.

"Hey Lucky," she mused. "I don't suppose you would be related to Patch, would you?"

"Yeah, I guess the family resemblance is hard to ignore." He gave a disenchanted shrug. "He is one of my brothers. He was the one who got me this job as a call boy."

Angel snapped a finger as she placed the realization. Her ear flipped forward and she gave a solid nod of her head. "Oh, that's why you seem familiar. I've worked with Patch before. He is a pretty decent guy. Kind of a flirt, though. In a goofy way."

One of Scamp's eyebrows rose as he looked over the edge of his mug. "Who is this Patch fella?"

This caused a smile to break out across her face and she stifled a laugh. She couldn't pass up a chance to tease Scamp. Leaning back in her stool, she crossed one leg over the other and let her bushy tail wag side to side before offhandedly commenting, "Oh, just one of the roundhouse hostlers. A nice fine young man. Very handsome."

Scamp frowned, causing a crease to form on his brow. Angel couldn't help but think he actually looked a bit like his father when he did that. She found it rather cute. To the side, Angel could see Lucky tilting his head in confusion, as if trying to figure out if the blonde furred female was being serious or not. Angel gave a wink to the pup before taking a final swing from her mug. "He tends to talk a bit much. That's why I call him Squeaky toy."

"Squeaky toy?" Scamp sounded rather concerned at this point, one ear perking slightly. Angel finished her drink, set the mug on the counter top, and plopped down from the bar stool.

"Oh, don't fret, Patch is no one you have to worry about. Honestly, I think he is just working for the boom season. He spoke about wanting to be a newspaper reporter." With that, she leaned forward and gave the mongrel a peck on the cheek and soft press with the very end of her nose. "Now c'mon. We have a train to catch."

Scamp seemed to deflate in relief. He dropped down from the bar stool and with a soft smile, fell by step with his girlfriend and followed her out the door. Lucky on the other hand just rolled his eyes. Where Tramp and Lady were a picture of grace and maturity, Scamp and Angel seemed to be full of the energy of youth.

The gas-lamps gave off a soft yellow glow of illumination, the flames flickering inside their glass housings. The streets were desolate outside of a late night freight wagon here and there. All were seemingly descending towards the train-yards to feed the multitudes of boxcars. Tramp and Lady walked arm in arm on the sidewalk keeping a brisk conversation. They were careful to avoid the many puddles from a recent rainstorm. It was cold enough that they could see their breath in front of their muzzles.

The cold forced the cocker spaniel to clutch ever tighter to her mate. Every so often a brisk gust of wind would roll down the street. She had been thinking about their conversation earlier, about holding back a little on their conjoined careers and focusing more on themselves. They had already had a son and adopted a daughter, and they were in the prime of their lives. It was time to live a little and enjoy each other before they started to get old. Lady looked up at the Tramp, her Tramp. It felt as if it was only yesterday that he had waltzed into her life, yet they had gone through so much together she couldn't imagine life without him.

A sharp wind echoed down the street, making the two dogs huddle closer as they walked down to the rail-yard.

"Maybe we should have grabbed an extra coat," the Tramp commented. He tilted his head slightly to press his cheek into the side of Lady's crown, softly nuzzling her as they walked. "I don't want you fetching yourself a cold."

"Oh, don't worry about me." Lady looked up at her mate and smiled. "Besides, we'll be in front of a nice warm locomotive firebox before you know it."

"But I'm going to lose circulation in that arm if you clamp down on it anymore."

Lady grinned and gave her mate's arm a particularly tight squeeze. "Oh, you can take it."

"Easy there, Pidge. You might break the old man," he teased, faking a pained expression. "I have your gloves in my coat pocket. They can keep your hands warm until we get to the station."

"Look at you, my gentleman." She slid out from under his arm, her dark blue skirt rippling around her legs. "Thinking ahead for me."

"I'm more thinking of my good coal-throwing arm." A gust of wind tugged at his triangular ears, causing them to flop a little.

"Tramp!" Lady laughed. Tramp ducked into a remorseful crouch.

"Only joking, only joking." He gave her a warm smile and reached into a pocket to pull out a set of leather gloves.

He was in the process of handing them to her when a rather more powerful than usual gust of wind caught one of the gloves, and it slipped from his grasp. Tramp and Lady watched as it tumbled in the breeze like a leaf and blew into a nearby alleyway between two storefronts before vanishing into the shadows between the gas-lamps. Tramp moved as if he was about to follow it, but Lady cut him off.

"Oh, I'll get it," she declared, quickly trotting in pursuit. Tramp crossed his arms and leaned against a gas-lamp, a smirk on his face and a roll of his eyes.

Entering the night darkened alleyway, she found that the glove had come to rest in a beam of moonlight that shined down theatrically from between the roofs. She knelt down and quickly retrieved the glove before tucking it on, taking a second to spread her fingers to be sure it was seated.

Straightening up, Lady glanced about the alleyway. On each side brick walls rose and the space between them was so narrow that she felt she could probably reach out and place a hand on each at the same time. The walls were dirty, and if it wasn't for the handful of barrels and creates that stood in neat piles awaiting delivery, she would have assumed it was abandoned. The alley was L-shaped, and something flickered and burned around the corner. Lady had always been a curious dog, and this was no exception. Looking over her shoulder and mentally reminding herself that she needed to return to the Tramp soon, she allowed herself to peek around the corner and see what exactly the source of the strange glow was.

Walking hesitantly around the corner she found herself in front of a single door mounted on the very back wall of the ally. Three burning torches hung above the door frame casting an eerie glow that pulsated like a beating heart across the alley. Above the torches hung a rather, in her opinion at least, loathsome African mask. It's harsh color patterns and sharp relief made all the more otherworldly by the dim light. The cocker stopped and craned her neck, staring openly at it.

"'S'cuse me, chère, but is there something you're looking for?" a deep voice with a heavy accent asked, practically in front of the cocker spaniel.

Lady jumped back, seeing that the door had silently opened, and standing on the threshold was a thin dark skinned man leaning on a cane. He was clad in an ill-fitting black suit with a top hat and seemed to tower imposingly over her, his sharp eyes drinking her in. The light from the three torches played with their shadows, tossing them against the brick walls of the alley. Where on earth had he come from? She never heard the door open. She felt her cheeks flush with slight embarrassment at having been caught staring outside his establishment.

"Oh, pardon me, I was uh, just..."

"Preoccupied, it seems." A sly smile that was as thin as the mustache over his lip split his face as he gave her a tip of his silk top hat. "But that's okay mademoiselle, preoccupied souls are a specialty of mine."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stand in your doorway," the cocker stammered. Something about this man made her feel rather uncomfortable. "I'll just be on my way."

Lady started to back away, but was suddenly pulled to a stop. She whirled around to see one of his large hands wrapped firmly around her wrist. She visibly tensed up, her soft brown eyes becoming a little panicked as his smirk grew wider.

"Hey now, not so fast little one. I ain't gonna hurt you," he said, slowly leading her back towards the door. Her eyes flittered around, trying to find some way to politely remove herself. If worse came to worst, she knew that she could yell and Tramp would come running. She was taken aback however at the sight of their shadows on the far wall. For a brief second, she thought she saw his moving of its own accord. "The winds brought you here for a reason."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Oh, chère, you're full of bad luck, fears about the future, and I can absolutely feel a wanderlust about you." He pulled her into the doorway, his violet eyes glittering darkly. "I just want to help."

"Bad luck?" By now Lady was very confused. She cocked her mouth slightly as she stepped into the shop, allowing herself to be guided by her hand. Still, she went no further than the front entrance. The sun had yet to fully rise and she was far away from the main street, but her curiosity got the better of her. "How do you know I have bad luck?"

Looking around it seemed the shop stretched farther into the building than it seemed was possible. The shelves and cases that she could see were full of strange items and vials, powders, and liquids. The walls were decorated with more masks and the low lighting that was given off by the wall mounted gas lamps gave the whole store an eerie and dark atmosphere. The spaniel had never seen such a place, nor did she feel was she wanting to see it again.

"Oh, it's in the cards, my dear!" The man laughed as he produced a deck of tarot cards from seemingly midair. He began cycling them in his hands in a feat of showmanship that actually astounded the cocker spaniel. "Speaking of which, here is mine."

The deck of tarot cards vanished and a single pink slip of cardstock appeared in their place. He placed it in the open palm of Lady's hand, and then gently closed her hand around it before letting go. Lady inspected the card, reading it out loud.

"Dr. Facilier, Tarot Readings, Charms, Potions. Dreams made real?" She raised an eyebrow at the last bit.

"Pigeon!" Tramp's voice called faintly from the alleyway. Slowly growing louder as he approached. "Oh Pigeon, where are you?"

Lady spun around and looked back through the doorway. She could see the tall mongrel's shadow cast on the far wall. He had yet to come around the corner in the L-shaped alley. Truth be told, she was glad for the excuse to depart. "Oh, that's my mate. I must be off."

"Come and see me sometime. I guarantee I could help you in ways you may have never thought," Facilier said with a wink as the cocker spaniel started out the door. "Mrs. Lady."

Lady felt an ice cold chill roll through her body and she involuntary shuddered. How did he know her name? She decided not to look back. Instead she looked down at the little card before quickly slipping it into her blouse pocket. She practically broke into a run, jogging around the corner and running into the Tramp's arms. He practically jumped back in surprise when she wrapped her own arms around him in a warm hug.

"Whoa, Pidge. What happened?" He had a look of genuine concern on his face. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Lady let go of her mate and stood back. The spaniel looked over her shoulder back at the closed doorway and the mask above it, seemingly staring down at them. She took a deep inhalation of air to steady her nerves. "I dunno, maybe I have."

"Oh, well don't you worry, little Pigeon." Tramp put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "No ghost will get you as long as I'm around."

Lady allowed a warm smile to slowly split her maw. Looking up into the handsome features of the Tramp, she felt immediately comfortable. She hugged him again, slipping her head into the crook of his neck and giving him a quick nuzzle. "I think that's all I really need."

"Good, because we need to get to the yard before we make our own train later than it already is!" The gray furred mutt laughed.

"Right, no more side-trips." Lady released him, and then as the two walked out of the alley, she slipped her arm back around his. "Lead the way my knight."