Disclaimer: Jerome Robbins would probably come back as a zombie and pirouette me to death if I said I owned West Side Story, so I'm going to go ahead and let you know that I don't. :)
Note: So I have no idea how I got this idea, but I am definitely having a lot of fun with it. Oh, Baby John, you do amuse me. :) Dedicated to my oh-so-wonderful fanfiction twin, HedgehogQuill, because this is half crack!fic and there is no way I would have written it without her. Rated for mild sexuality and a few words.
Note the Second: Btw, kids, please don't feed the trolls. :)
a debt of honor
one : no good deed goes unpunished
.
"Jets! Jets!"
Ice, hearing the shout, broke into a run. He knew the call of a new Jet in distress from miles away. Sure enough, as he turned the corner of the old Italian grocery and pounded into the alley, Ice saw a cowering Baby John surrounded by three Emeralds he knew only as Red, Fin, and Mouse. He skidded to a stop, sizing them up. Only three, and not a fighter worth a damn in the bunch.
"Get outta here," he snarled.
The Irish trio scowled at him resentfully. They outnumbered Ice and Baby John by one, but on West Side, the Jet third-in-command Ice counted for two and they knew it.
"You heard me," said Ice, glaring at them. "Go on, beat it."
Baby John eyed him gratefully as the Emeralds reluctantly slunk off. "Gee, thanks, Ice."
Ice shrugged, glowering after the three departing figures. The new kid might still be wet behind the ears, but there was no way the Jets would let the Emeralds get away with trying to jump him. "Yeah, don' mention it, kid."
"No, I mean it," continued Baby John doggedly. "I owe ya one."
Still not looking in his direction, Ice waved his hand at him uncomfortably. "I get it, Baby John."
"Captain Marvel wouldn' not pay back a guy who saved his life," persisted Baby John, "an' neither woulda Jet. How can I make it up to ya, Ice?"
Ice finally turned to stare at him. He got that the kid was green and itching to prove himself, but this was taking it a little too far. "Baby John. They wouldna killed ya, just bloodied ya up a bit. It's cool." He turned around and started walking off, figuring that would end the matter. As soon as Ice heard Baby John's scurrying footsteps, though, he knew he was wrong.
"Don' worry, Ice," Baby John said cheerfully as he caught up to the older boy, "if I stick to ya long enough, I'm sure I'll think of somethin'!"
Ice stifled a groan, hoping whatever it was wouldn't involve the newbie pestering him for the next three days. He didn't not like Baby John, exactly: the kid was kind of sweet. Useless in a fight, yeah, but sweet. Which was why Ice wasn't too sure why Riff and Tony had let him in the Jets—unless it was to get the kid off their backs. He'd been pleading with the gang to take him for months now, and Ice had almost begun to reconsider his opinion of that Anybodys chick as the most annoying of the wannabes that always hung around the Jets, when Riff and Tony had finally given in last week. Ice hadn't approved, but he wasn't like Action, who had to give his two cents' worth on everything, so he'd kept his mouth shut. Now he was starting to regret it.
"Whatever, Baby John," Ice muttered under his breath dismissively with a shrug. It couldn't really be that bad. Baby John was just a kid, after all. How much damage could he do?
But by the time Tuesday rolled around, Ice knew exactly what had prompted Riff and Tony to take Baby John in: desperation. In fact, he was amazed that they'd held out as long as they had—Ice had had only three days of the kid, and that was more than enough for one lifetime. Baby John had tailed him to the movies with Velma on Saturday:
.
Crunch, crunch.
Ice, very comfortably situated with Velma, did his level best to block out the noise by concentrating on his girlfriend. Which, normally, wouldn't be hard at all.
Crunch, crunch.
However, as they were an hour into both To Catch A Thief and a very promising makeout session that was being rapidly ruined by popcorn, of all things, Ice did not consider this a normal situation at all.
Crunch, crunch.
Ice unstuck himself from Velma and whipped his head around to glare behind him. "Knock it off, Baby John!"
Baby John innocently held up the striped bag. "Want some?"
.
Then there had been the trip out to his mother's place on Sunday:
"Hey, Ma," said Ice, arm around Velma's waist.
"Hi, Mrs. Kelly," added Velma, smiling.
"Oh, John, ye do look nice today," beamed Mrs. Kelly, putting her arms around them both.
"Your name is John?" asked Baby John incredulously, poking his head through the fire escape window. "That's my name, too!"
Ice growled. "Beat it, kid."
Mrs. Kelly frowned. "Manners, John," she admonished, before smiling at Baby John. "Young man, have ye had dinner yet?"
"Nope," said Baby John, eyes impossibly wide.
Ice groaned: he knew that babyfaced look. Sure enough, Mrs. Kelly motioned for him to come in. "Any friend of John's is welcome to stay," she said, beaming.
"I wouldn' exactly call 'im a friend right now," muttered Ice darkly. Velma squeezed his hand sympathetically.
Grinning blissfully, Baby John dropped through the window. "Gee, thanks!"
.
The last straw had been at the Park on Monday:
"Sure is a nice day for a picnic," said Velma happily, squeezing his hand.
"Yeah," agreed Ice, gazing at her contentedly. He dug around in the basket she'd brought. "Want some cake?"
"Cake?" asked Baby John suddenly, popping out from behind a bush.
Velma raised an eyebrow; Ice choked. "Baby John!"
"Tha's me," said the younger boy cheerfully. "That Velma's almond cake? Can I have some?"
Ice glared at him. "Sure, Baby John," he ground out, cutting a thick slice. He promptly shoved it in Baby John's face. "Want any more?"
"Nope," said Baby John through a clump of cake and icing, "I'm good."
.
It was like having an extremely inept shadow.
"Enough, Baby John," Ice finally growled as the kid trailed after him into Doc's Tuesday night. "Quit followin' me around!"
Baby John shrugged, wide-eyed. "I'm just here for the meetin', Ice."
Ice blinked. The kid was making him paranoid. "Oh."
"But I'll be right there afterward!" Baby John continued cheerfully. "An' I'll keep bein' there, every day, until I or you think of somethin' I can do to repay ya!"
Ice stared at him, horrified. "What?"
"Yeah!" grinned Baby John. "I owe it to ya, Ice!"
The tall Jet shook his head in disbelief. "Baby John, look, ya gotta—"
"Everybody here?" called Tony loudly, interrupting Ice. "Good. Now, listen up. We got serious business to discuss."
Ice shot a baleful look at Baby John before stalking off to sit on Riff's right.
"Kid still shadowin' ya?" Riff murmured under his breath as Tony ran down a list of grievances against the Emeralds, ending with a vehement clap on Baby John's back.
Ice nodded with a grimace. "He's gettin' on my nerves."
Riff let out a low whistle. "Tough luck, buddy-boy."
"An' what's worse," Ice went on, making a fist and covering it with his left hand, "he ain't exactly good at it. Graz could tail me better'n Baby John."
Riff winced. Even he knew his girlfriend was loud. "That bad, huh. Well, look," he said as the other Jets erupted in hoots and whistles for whatever it was Tony had just said, "maybe the kid'll give up an' just go home and write ya a thank-you card or somethin'."
"Okay, then, Jets!" finished Tony, clapping his hands, "ya know what to do. Ya see a red-headed kid, ya drop him, no questions asked. See ya here tomorrow, same time."
The Jets began shoving aside chairs and heading out into the night. Ice kept his eyes on Baby John, who was humming tunelessly and trying to look innocent. "Well," he sighed heavily, "here's hopin', Riff."
.
Ice took one last look around before noiselessly scaling the fire escape outside Velma's apartment. At the top, he paused, and scanned the alley again. Once again, there was no sign of Baby John, who'd been curiously absent since Ice had shaken him off by the playground. Ice frowned. It was a bit unsettling, and it felt a little too easy, but Baby John was so loud that there was no way he could be there. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ice hoisted up the window and climbed inside.
Velma, curled up on her bed, straightened up. "Hey, honey," she said happily as Ice slid onto the sheets next to her. She snuggled into him with a smile. "Ya lose the third wheel tonight?"
Ice put his arm around her and stroked her hair. "Sure hope so," he said fervently, shaking his head.
"Good," Velma giggled, resting her hand on his shirt, "'cause I don' know about you, Ice, but I don't want an audience tonight."
Ice sighed, his brow furrowing. "Me neither. That kid's stressin' me out, Vee."
Velma smiled flirtatiously up at him, winding her arms around him. "Well, I can help ya out with that," she said idly, kneading her hands into his shoulders. Ice, relaxing into her touch, pulled her onto his lap to straddle him. "He ain't here now, is he?" she pointed out, gazing down at him through her eyelashes.
"Nope," Ice half-smiled, gripping her waist, "an' I can think of plenty else to do, too."
"Good," breathed Velma, slipping her hands underneath his shirt. "Me, too."
Grinning, Ice impatiently pulled her down onto the sheets and kissed her. Sure, they'd only been followed by Baby John for three days, but for them, three days were like three years. With this in mind, neither of them wasted any time with the preliminaries, stripping off their clothes with abandon and making up for the time the kid had taken. Velma, face flushed, was just starting to reach for the drawer of her bedside table when they heard it: the distinct squeak of sneakers on the metal of the fire escape.
Ice swore. "This stops now," he snarled. He tossed the sheet at Velma, who rolled her eyes and sat up, tucking it around her. Ice grabbed his pants, yanked them on, and stalked over to the window.
.
Baby John, crouching on the fire escape underneath Velma's open window, had no idea his doom was approaching. Instead, concentrating on thoughts of how to settle up with Ice and trying desperately not to hear anything he didn't want to hear, Baby John had screwed his eyes shut—so he completely missed the curtain being wrenched open.
"Hey, Baby John," said Ice, leaning on the windowsill and smiling dangerously. "Fancy seein' you here."
Baby John, arms around his knees and trying to look as small and unincriminating as possible, opened his eyes and looked up sheepishly. "H-hey, Ice."
"D'ya know what I was doin', Baby John?" asked Ice conversationally.
Baby John eyed him uncertainly. Ice's usually smooth dark blond hair was sticking up in all directions, his face was covered in pink smears of lipstick, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. So even Baby John had a pretty good idea of what Ice had been up to. But he wasn't sure what the answer least likely to get him killed was. After all, every Jet knew that Ice was pretty touchy about his girlfriend.
"Maybe?" he offered feebly.
"Fun," said Ice, a deranged look in his blazing pale eyes. "I was havin' fun, with my girl, who I haven't had a second of time alone with since you," he pointed at Baby John, chest heaving, "decided you were my goddamn shadow."
"But—ya saved my life, Ice," said Baby John meekly. "I owe it to ya to think of some way to pay ya back for that."
"I don't care if I saved your ass from wild bears 'cause I'll sure as hell never do it again," spat Ice. "Not 'less ya figure out ya don't owe me a thing 'cept some goddamned privacy!"
Baby John shrugged helplessly. "It's a gentleman's debt of honor, Ice!"
"Jesus, Baby John, whaddaya want from me?" demanded Ice. "Do I hafta ask ya for the pens outta Glad Hand's pocket or the shirt offa Krupke's hairy back 'fore you'll leave me alone? 'S like ya want me to tell ya to steal the rap sheets from Schrank's desk or somethin'!"
Baby John stared up at him wordlessly. He had never, ever seen Ice lose his cool like that. Ever. He doubted anyone had, even Riff or Tony. It was actually frightening.
So really, there was only one thing left to say.
"Which ones didja want?"
Ice let out an inarticulate roar and lunged at him. Baby John flinched, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of the extreme pain he was sure he was about to feel. But after a few seconds passed and he was still unmangled, he hazarded opening one eye. Velma, wrapped in a sheet, was tugging a dazed-looking Ice back into the room.
"Ya might wanna leave, Baby John," she called, her voice half-annoyed and half-amused. "Not sure how long I can keep him distracted while you're here."
Baby John, hardly able to believe he was still alive, nodded vigorously. "Thanks!"
"Just don' you start followin' me around," she warned testily, before turning her attention back to Ice.
Baby John blinked. Now that she mentioned it, Ice was way more dangerous than a few Emeralds…
Velma reappeared at the window, flushed and panting and clutching the sheet around her. "An' I mean it." She yanked the curtain shut.
Baby John sighed. She had a point. As unhappy as Ice was being shadowed by Baby John right now, he'd be even more annoyed if Baby John started tailing Velma, too. Baby John just hoped that Velma kept her boyfriend distracted enough so that, come the next day, Ice wouldn't remember that Baby John had seen Velma wearing not too much at all—after all, the newest Jet kind of enjoyed being alive.
Now. What to do next? wondered Baby John. He didn't think it was wise to stick around. As if to underscore that point, a very intimate-sounding sigh suddenly came floating through the window. Baby John turned pale—and bolted.
.
Thump.
A-Rab snuggled into his very flat pillow, squeezing it tightly. "Keep doin' that, baby."
Thump.
"Wait, no, changed my mind," he mumbled blurrily with a frown. "I don' like it."
Thump.
"I said I don' like it," groused A-Rab. "Stoppit!"
THUMP.
A-Rab cursed and sat up in a flurry of blankets. "Anybodys, what the hell?!"
Baby John's face loomed up out of the darkness. "What? It's me, Baby John," he said as he moved closer to A-Rab's bed, confused. "I was just climbin' up, and kept hittin' the wall. Whaddaya mean, anybody?"
A-Rab's eyes bugged as his head cleared. "N—nothin'," he sputtered, then did a double take. "Like you should be askin' questions, Baby John!" he said loudly, glancing at his clock. "It's two in the mornin'! What're ya doin' here?"
The blond boy ducked his head, avoiding A-Rab's gaze. "Well, Ice got mad an' threw me out an' I didn' know where else—"
"No," interrupted A-Rab, stunned, "no way. You two weren't—"
Baby John flushed. "Hell no, A-Rab!" he said vehemently. "You know I an' Minnie—" He stopped abruptly.
A-Rab cracked a grin, but decided to let that go. "So whaddaya mean, then? An' say it plain."
Baby John shuffled his feet, looking sheepish. "Y'know how I been followin' Ice around, tryin' to do somethin' for him for savin' my neck? Well, after everyone left Doc's, I, er—was sittin' out on Velma's fire escape, thinkin', while they was—um—"
Instantly awake, A-Rab leaned forward, eyes wide. "No wonder Ice was pissed! Didja see her naked?"
Baby John blushed. "No!"
A-Rab sat back, disappointed. "Aww, man."
"She had a sheet coverin' her up," added Baby John, turning even redder.
A-Rab perked up, intrigued again. "She did? Are ya sure ya didn't see nothin'?"
Baby John seemed to think for a second, then visibly shook himself. "No! Anyway, it don't matter," he said heatedly. "I gotta think of some way to square things up with him!"
A-Rab stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. He was pretty sure no one except Ice was ever going to get past Velma's clothes, and here Baby John had been right there and missed a golden opportunity for all of mankind, everywhere! It was a crying shame. He shook his head again, then managed to turn his thoughts to Baby John's words. "I don't get it," he said, scratching his head. "Why ya think ya gotta pay him back in the firs' place? We're Jets, now. Savin' each others' asses is what we do, Baby John."
Baby John frowned. "That's just it, A-Rab! I ain't saved anyone's neck yet—it's just been the other way around. I gotta do somethin' to prove I ain't just dead weight holdin' 'em down—that I belong!"
A-Rab rolled his eyes. "Ya do belong, Baby John. Else why would they take ya in?"
Baby John shook his head. "It don' matter," he insisted stubbornly. "I just gotta do this, A-Rab, so help me out, would ya?"
A-Rab sighed. "Okay. Fine, Baby John, but just this once. Now," he said, thinking furiously and trying not to let the last remnants of his very pleasant dream distract him, "here's what we gotta do."
.
Riff Lorton was very startled to be awakened at three in the morning by a very rumpled-looking Ice towing a very resigned-looking Velma behind him by the hand.
"Hey, buddy-boy, ya got lipstick all over yer face," he pointed out cautiously. Ice's shirt was also inside-out, but Riff, noting the distinctly unbalanced look on Ice's face, decided not to mention that.
"I can't take it anymore," said Ice, ignoring him. "Baby John's been followin' me around for days now an' I can't take it anymore. He ain't givin' up an' sendin' me a thank-you card, Riff—ya gotta do somethin' about him!"
Riff eyed him. "Cool, Ice, remember playin' it cool?"
"Would you be cool if Baby John sat on the fire escape outside'a Graziella's room while you and she were tryin' to have some privacy for the first time in three days, Riff?"
Riff sat up, horrified. "He did that?"
Velma nodded, rolling her eyes. "He did."
Riff digested this. "Jesus."
"You're my best buddy, Riff," said Ice pathetically. "Ya gotta help me."
Riff thought for a minute. On the one hand, it was kind of amusing to see the famously unflappable Ice brought completely to his knees by a little pipsqueak of a new Jet. On the other hand, Riff and Tony were planning an all-out rumble with the Emeralds soon and they needed their second-best fighting man at top strength, both physically and mentally. Riff, eyeing the disheveled Ice, made up his mind.
"Okay, cats," he said, leaning forward. "Here's what we do."
.
.end.
Stay tuned to find out what happens. Hint: it involves walkie-talkies, Boy Scouts, and Officer Krupke. :)
—viennacantabile