Disclaimer - I don't own the Outsiders

Guard Dog

I lived in a house full of boys.

Some of them were my own and others had been found along the way. I loved them all something fierce… but every now and then a girl just needed some time away from it all. Away from the impromptu wrestling matches, the blaring music, their attempts at dirty jokes (and I was under good authority that they got at least half of those from Darrel because Lord knows they sounded awful familiar), and don't even get me started on the smell.

For some reason, the older they got, the more they seemed to stink. If it wasn't sweat, it was cheap cologne. Some days it was both. My couch was no longer just stained with spills, those I didn't mind because they were bound to happen, but oh no, that thing was soaked through and through with the stench of teenage boy and I don't think there is anything else on this good green earth that smells worse than that.

I had given up trying to save my couch long ago. These days I just had staring contests with it where it usually came out the victor. After all, Darrel was right, smelly or not, the couch was probably the most valuable thing we owned and I'm not talkin' about money wise.

As for the rest of my home, it wasn't much, I knew that, but it was home and it was mine and that was all that really mattered in the end. Not the water stains on the walls, or the two blinds that were permanently bent at a funny angle after Two-Bit had been tossed into them, or the television that was constantly smudged with fingerprints, or even the table next to Darrel's chair that had a book underneath one of the legs because otherwise it would wobble.

That's what made our house a home, I guess. Not money or fancy things but real genuine love, the kind you could feel like a summer breeze on your skin. Love that started with me and Darrel, grew to our three boys, and then extended even further and drew in the others whether they were aware of it or not. Sometimes it felt like our dim yellow porch light had all the power of a lighthouse cutting through the thick darkness and fog to call in all the lost ships to the harbor.

And we took in every lost ship, no matter how battered their sails.

I loved it and I loved them but it was exhausting. That's why I was so grateful that Darrel took the boys out on one of his hunting trips for the weekend. It gave me some much needed time alone. But the funny thing is that when I finally was alone, I had no idea what to even do with myself. I wandered around the house, pitter-pattered my way through the kitchen, even curled up like a cat in warm sunlight and took a nap in Darrel's chair. But eventually the silence got to me. It wasn't the ticking time bomb kind of quiet on early Sunday mornings where I had to tread carefully in fear of waking the sleeping bodies in just the next room over. This was more like being inside a balloon or drifting real still under water.

It was eerie and I finally had to turn on the radio and convince myself to get out the broom and get some sweeping done just to have some movement in the house. I was so used to chaos and noise that I didn't know how to live without it.

And I don't know what it is about bein' by yourself, but you end up doing goofy things that you would never do if anyone else were around. I guess that's where I found myself—singing Heartbreak Hotel at the top of my lungs, dancing with the broom, and singing like a fool swinging my hips this way and that.

Of course, that's where Dally found me, too.

I hadn't even heard the screen door I was so into it. It was the slow clap that gave him away.

Horrified, I went rigid and glanced over my shoulder staring at the towheaded fifteen year old feeling like a kid that'd been caught sneakin' in the cookie jar. Dally, however, looked like this was the best thing he had ever seen in his life.

"What are you doin' here?" I half asked, half yelped and dropped my broom with a loud clatter.

Dally outright laughed. "What do you mean, 'what am I doin' here'? I came for the concert. I mean, it sounded so good from the street that I had to come see it for myself."

"You could hear me from the street?" I squeaked like a mouse. Living with this many boys around, it took a lot to embarrass me, but right now I felt my face getting all hot and I just knew I was slowly turning the color of a ripe tomato.

"Sure could," Dally grinned and dropped onto the couch causing a waft of the smell to drift my way and I nearly gagged. Lordy, I had to do something about that couch. Dally pulled out his pack of Kools and tapped out a cigarette. "You should consider sellin' tickets. I bet you'd make some good money with the dance moves an' all."

"And you keep talkin' like that and I'm gonna snip off your ear next time I give you a haircut." I said hotly and bent down to pick up the broom. I stood ramrod straight after that and smoothed my dress in an attempt to get back some form of dignity.

Dally just grinned though, like he thought my threat was cute or something, and put a cigarette to his lips. I watched as he struck a match on his Christopher medal and then marched right up to him and blew out the flame before he could light up.

"No smokin' in the house," I said after he threw me a glare. I stared right back at him when he kept it up trying to intimidate me. He was always like that, always testing the waters, pressin', pushin' to see just how far he could go before he got in over his head. No wonder I was always so tired. Heading over to the closet I opened it and tossed in the broom. "I don't want that couch smelling any worse than it does."

I heard Dally sniff deeply. "It don't smell to me."

"That's because it smells like you."

"You sayin' that I stink?"

"Yep," I informed him matter-of-factly and came back in the living room with my hands on my hips. "You and Two-Bit and Darry and Steve and Soda and every other boy in this house."

He just looked at me, his cigarette tucked behind his ear, almost hidden completely by his hair. Glory, he really did need to get it cut. "Man, and here I thought I was doin' Mr. C a favor by keepin' an eye on you like he asked. Didn't know I'd get told off in the process," he complained and I froze.

"Darrel did… what?"

"Asked me to keep a close eye on you, seein' as you were probably going to miss having someone around to cook for—by the way, got any food?" Dally smirked and leaned back into the cushions.

I silently cursed my husband and wondered what in the world got into his head to go and do something like assign Dallas Winston as my own personal guard dog. Darrel probably thought this was a good joke and was getting a laugh about it with the boys, but I wasn't havin' it.

"Y'know, I appreciate this and all," I started. "But I think I'll be just fine on my own. It's only two days and I'm sure you got lots of other things you could be doin' than keeping me company."

"Let me get this straight, Mrs. C, are you tellin' me to go out to Buck's tonight?"

I flinched at the mention of that horrible place and shook my head violently. "What? No, I ain't. And don't you dare go mentionin' that place in my house." I almost felt like crossing myself like I'd seen my Catholic friends do in school. I hated Buck's with a passion.

Dally grinned like he knew that was what I was going to say and I narrowed my eyes. "Well, then I guess I'm hangin' out here for a while and seeing as how I'm gonna keep you company, I thought Johnnycake could come over and he and I could teach you how to play a little poker. Johnny's a real shark at it."

This was the problem with arguing with Dallas Winston. If he wanted something bad enough, he got it—bottom line. I felt myself start to deflate a little. "Is he?" Johnny didn't share much about himself, so anything the boys let slip I wanted to know.

Dally nodded and looked about as proud as I've ever seen him. "He emptied out the pot last time he played me, Two-Bit, and Steve and didn't even blink about it."

"Well don't let him go playing Soda. That boy cheats like there's no tomorrow. I finally had to ask him why I kept findin' aces in his socks when I was doing laundry."

Dallas went real still for a moment and looked at me with sudden interest. "So that's where he keeps them, huh?"

I felt my eyes widen and lips purse as I realized that I had just given away Soda's secret. Whistling suddenly, I stood up in a rush and went into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. Boots followed me and I ignored Dallas feelin' guilty for ratting out my son… even if he was cheating in the first place, bein' a rat never felt any good.

"Thanks for the tip," Dally finally said with a wicked grin.

I hummed in a non-answer and went about starting dinner. If he and Johnny were gonna be here, the other two were bound to show up as well and would probably be hungry. Dallas wandered back into the living room after that. He had never found anything remotely related to the kitchen interesting—except for once the food was finished.

I heard the television turn on as I got out what I needed to make my famous chili and cornbread. It was a personal favorite of Dally's and I thought it might be a good peace offering for calling him smelly earlier. We might have joked around a bit, but one thing I've learned about boys is this: they take stuff in deeper than we realize and let it fester until it got into their blood and poisoned them. Dallas had enough things festering inside of him already; he didn't need me adding to it.

Of course in the midst of cooking dinner, as expected, Johnny, Steve, and Two-Bit wandered in. Their arrival was so perfectly timed with the cornbread being done that it made me wonder if this place really was a lighthouse giving off a signal that a good homemade meal was ready for eating. Smiling to myself, I shook my head and pulled the cornbread out of the oven and had to simultaneously beat Two-Bit away with a spoon.

"You'll burn yourself," I said in response to his yelp.

"So you figured hitting me with a spoon was a good way to keep me from bein' hurt?"

"Careful, Two-Bit. She's been threatening to cut off people's ears today," Dally smirked at me and took his place at the table not bothering to help set it. Only Johnny thought of that and bless him for it.

"I guess I got off lucky with the spoon then," Two-Bit quipped, his face looking like one big grin.

I pointed the spoon at him. "Remember that next time you try to sample the cooking 'fore its ready."

"Yes ma'am," he saluted.

I had Steve bring over the chili pot and sat in-between him and Johnny. The boys waited knowing what was coming next. I knew none of them attended church, with the exception of Johnny occasionally coming along with us. I didn't mind if they kept their eyes open and didn't pray at all, Dally usually seemed especially put out during prayer, but they all knew to keep quiet and not to touch that food until I finished saying grace. After all, I was the one who controlled the food supply in the Curtis home and if I wanted to pray, they would just have to wait a minute to eat.

Bowing my head, I closed my eyes. "Lord, I thank you for this meal and for your provision. Please keep my boys safe on their trip." I paused for a few breaths and glanced up and found Dally's eyes on me. "I thank you for this home and my family—those gone and those sitting at this table. In Jesus name, amen."

It was quiet for a moment and I wasn't sure what they thought about me thanking God for them or callin' them family, but it was what was in my heart and I couldn't deny that. Only Johnny's soft, "Amen," broke the silence and then it was like they came back to life.

Most of them. Two-Bit was standing over the chili pot scooping it out for everyone and Steve was slicing up the cornbread (I had to tell him not to use his new pocket knife to do so) while Johnny got everyone a soda out of the fridge.

Dallas was the only one who wouldn't look at me.

Only when his plate was full of food did he even begin to move. I tried not to be too obvious in my staring at him, but when someone was completely still in the midst of constant movement it was hard not to look.

Frowning, I tried to listen to Two-Bit's story about the time he nearly set his entire kitchen on fire but I couldn't concentrate very well. It had hit me unexpectedly that maybe this was the first time that Dallas heard or even thought that anyone would thank God for him.

I took a bite of cornbread and wondered what he would do if he had any idea how often I prayed for him and the others. Most of the time I wasn't quite sure what good much of the prayer did, sometimes it felt like it was more for comfort than for me to really expect anything out of it. But I did it anyway, just in case.

It was an hour after dinner with the table now cleared and being used for a full blown poker game with four teenage boys betting cigarettes and hubcaps (I didn't ask about that one) that I began to wonder what in the world happened to my weekend alone.

Steve had taken it upon himself to be my personal tutor. He and I shared a hand for the first three games as he went over again and again what beat what, what a flush was, what a full house was (he didn't find it as amusing as I did when I told him that I already knew what a full house was on a daily basis). I wasn't any good and I think Steve began to get frustrated, but glory did he try.

"Go over it again," I said as Dally dealt me another card. We had learned quickly not to let Two-Bit be dealer, with his sticky fingers he cheated worse than Sodapop.

Steve groaned loudly at my request. "Two pairs beats a pair," he droned and leaned back in his chair. "Three of a kind beats two pair. A straight beats three of a kind."

"A flush beats a straight," Two-Bit threw in and munched on his fourth piece of cornbread.

My lips twisted in confusion and I looked at all of them questioningly. "So… three kings is a good thing, right?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dally tossed his cards down grouchily. He hadn't had much luck at all tonight and wasn't happy about it. I'm pretty sure the others were just goin' easy on me though. I knew Two-Bit played poker more often than he went to school and Steve was smart enough that he excelled at most card games. So I let them be nice without tellin' them I knew what they were doing. Sometimes it was the thought that counted.

Steve dropped his forehead and his hand onto the table after my question mumbling curse words under his breath. "This is such…"

"I'm done." Two-Bit conceded and leaned his chair back on two legs. "If a girl is beating me at poker something is wrong in the world. What about you, Johnny?"

I raised my eyebrows and met Johnny's surprisingly intense stare. His black eyes were narrowed and bored into mine and I couldn't get a read on what he was thinking in the least. He was spinning a nickel around between his thumb and forefinger and my eyes glanced down to his large pile of cigarettes and coins. When I looked back up, he grinned and shoved everything forward. "All in."

Two-Bit whistled and Steve raised his head up from the table in interest. I glanced down at the pot and then back to Johnny. Years of being a mom and having to tell the boys that I loved the breakfast they made for me every birthday and mother's day had made me a great liar but Dally was right: Johnny was a real shark.

"Fold," I grinned naughtily and the boys exploded.

Steve was on his feet in less than a second and took my cards from me putting them down one by one calling out my terrible hand, "She had nothin'! Nothin'!"

"Johnny, how'd you know?" Two-Bit asked and Johnny's eyes shined.

He just shrugged. "Because I had two kings and unless decks suddenly started carryin' five, I figured she was bluffin'."

"Told ya, the kid's good," Dallas said proudly to no one in particular and he reached over and got Johnny in a headlock and ruffled his hair. Johnny didn't even look like he minded that his hair was sticking up at every angle when he was finally released, he just grinned at Dallas and I shook my head.

There was a sudden knock on the front door and I frowned. It wasn't often that people bothered to knock on my door and the postman never delivered at night so I had no idea who it could be. Only when I got up from the table and headed to answer it did the boys even realize that someone must've knocked. They got a little quiet and Two-Bit leaned his chair to the side and balanced now on those two legs as he strained to see the visitor.

Of course, after I opened the door and he saw who was standing out on the porch he let the chair fall back and adopted a very innocent expression.

Mimi Matthews cocked one eyebrow perfectly when she caught sight of her son. "Looks like you got ambushed," she huffed and I could only nod in agreement.

Stepping aside, I let her in and Mimi, never being one to waste time, dove right in. "Why in the world are you all over here botherin' this woman? Don't you know she probably wants some time away from ya'll pesterin' her and whatnot?"

"Aw, she loves havin' us over, ma." Two-Bit grinned with enough cornbread stuffed in his mouth that his teeth completely disappeared. It looked so ridiculous that I had to laugh and so did Johnny.

"Sure she does and she has you over all the time. Makes me wonder what's so wrong with my house that you seem to avoid it if you can."

True to form, Two-Bit didn't stutter when he said, "Ain't nothing wrong with the house, it's the cooking."

"Boy, are you talkin' trash about my taters again? I told you if I wanted to poison you I'd slip somethin' in that bottle of bourbon you got under your bed instead ruining perfectly good mashed potatoes."

My brows shot up at the mention of the bourbon. Sure, I knew Two-Bit drank—there weren't many who didn't—I was just surprised Mimi had done nothing about the fact that she knew where he kept his liquor. I would have dumped it down the drain in a heartbeat if I found that in one of my boys' rooms.

"Hey," Two-Bit raised his hands in mock surrender. "I never said I thought you actually poisoned it—just that it tasted like it."

My friend's eyes narrowed dangerously and she pointed a warning finger at her son. "Don't tempt me."

"You'd miss me too much," Two-Bit gave his mother a wide grin that was a little on the crazy side and I watched Mimi defrost at the sight of it.

Two-Bit and Mimi went back and forth a little longer before she finally and forcefully herded all the boys out of the house and told them they could finish their game at her place. I merely stood back in amusement as each one shuffled or strutted out the door. I thanked Mimi fervently only when I was sure the boys were out of earshot.

She had just closed the door when it popped back open again. I looked over in question as Dallas jiggled the lock that we never used and glanced at me quickly.

"Maybe you should lock this, bein' here on your own and all. Never know what kind of creeps are in this neighborhood."

"Sure thing," I answered and Dally nodded in some kind of approval and left to catch up with the guys.

I wondered briefly if I should tell him that I wasn't too worried. Darrel kept a heater under the mattress in our room and he made plenty sure that I could shoot it just fine. But then I decided that telling Dally something like that would probably be the dumbest idea I ever had. Never know what'd he do with that kind of information and I didn't want to give him the temptation to take it.

After cleaning up the disaster the boys left, I grabbed a blanket and curled up in Darrel's chair missing him more than I thought I would. My day hadn't gone quite like I'd planned. There was no bubble bath, not an ounce of quiet, and an awful mess to clean up. But I learned how to play poker and got to feed my boys. Somehow that made it not so bad. I closed my eyes with a smile that didn't fade even when I yawned and fell asleep almost right away.

I must have needed the sleep more than I thought because I slept like a log. It was only when I felt the creepy crawly legs scamperin' up my arm that I woke up and screamed bloody murder. I slapped at my arm to get the offending thing off of me and scrambled to stand up nearly tipping Darrel's recliner over backwards in my attempt to get away.

The front door suddenly burst open with a deafening bang that reminded me of a gunshot and I screamed again.

Balancing on the chair, I had my hands over my mouth as I took in Dally's fury filled face. He looked ready to murder someone and I felt my blood jump at the sight. He flicked on the light and was looking around the room for what or who made me scream and I stood there in complete shock and silence and utter embarrassment.

Until I felt the creepy crawlies going up my foot.

I screamed again and leapt off the chair kicking my leg viciously.

It was a well known fact in my home that I was scared out of my mind of cockroaches. It was much less commonly known that Dallas Winston was just as scared of them.

"Kill it!" I yelled and Dally moved forward a step and then hesitated looking at the roach. It zigged and zagged and I jumped onto the smelly couch letting Dally be the brave hero.

But he wasn't. At least not right away.

He stomped at it and it skittered away causing him to cuss colorfully. He stomped again, more careful with his aim this time, and hit his target. Only when he lifted his foot, the cockroach wasn't dead and instead ran right for the tough hood. Dally backed away from it then with real terror on his face. I pointed and gave him directions and after a moment Dally began stomping again. He chased and was chased in return making him cuss all the more. But thankfully the sixth stomp was the charm and the roach was dead, really dead.

I was panting like I'd been in a real war and Dally was, too. I climbed off the couch and ground my teeth when I noticed that Two-Bit's cornbread crumbs scattered all over the floor must've drawn in the evil thing.

"Guess I'll have to explain to Mr. C about the door," Dally muttered as he went over to inspect it. He'd done a real number on it, that's for sure. I wasn't sure what to think about the fact that our lock didn't do much to keep out a fifteen year old greaser.

Going over, I took in the damage but soon my eyes went past the busted door to the leather jacket lying on the front porch. "Dallas… were you sleeping on the porch?" I asked real slow and he didn't answer. "Why didn't you just knock? I'd've let you take one of the boys bed's since their gone."

He just shrugged and reached up a hand to scratch at the back of his head. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"Well it bothers me when you don't sleep in a bed of your own," I snapped and then slowly, oh so slowly, I squeezed my eyes shut.

Sometimes, it seemed like I just didn't think about the words comin' out of my mouth. I knew Dallas slept wherever he could and I threw that in his face. If I could have gotten away with cussing, I'd probably have done it right about then.

Opening my eyes, I saw Dally glaring off to the side with his jaw clenched so hard I thought it was gonna shatter like glass. My heart ached at the sight, more at the cause of it than anything else. I thought again, like I have many times, of his mother who was more of a ghost to me than anything tangible. No matter if it was Dally or me or anyone else who reached for her she just wasn't there. It shouldn't be like this, a thought quivered through my mind and shook me down to the tips of my toes. It shouldn't be like this for him or for Steve or for Johnny or half of the kids on this street. None of them deserved to not be wanted, to not have a home.

I eyed the smelly couch that had become the bed for so many of the boys and bit my lip. No matter how bad it got, I don't think we could ever get rid of it.

Clearing my throat gently, I spoke real soft. "Why don't you take Darry's bed for tonight, huh?"

I had to wait for what felt like an eternity as Dallas weighed his options without acknowledging that I had even spoken. Accept kindness or rebel and prove nothing but his pride. That was my battle with Dallas Winston every day. I didn't always win, often I lost… but not tonight.

Tonight kindness won.

He didn't say a word, didn't look at me, and was so angry I could feel it pulsing around him but he still made his way to Darry's room. I followed him and made sure he didn't need anything else but couldn't bring myself to ask. I didn't think he'd take much more, so I stood in the doorway struggling to find the right words. Finally, "Hey, Dallas?" He paused in the middle of taking off a boot and looked at me sharply. "Thanks for helping me and killin' the roach."

Dallas nodded once, just a dip of his chin really, in acceptance and I smiled at him and wandered down the hall to my bedroom. Maybe Darrel did know what he was doing when he told Dally to keep an eye on me.

AN: There you go, more Mrs. C and Dally! This one was a little harder for me to write for some reason (I blame Dally) but there ya go. I hope you enjoyed it... but who wouldn't enjoy seeing tough ol' Dally terrified of a cockroach?

- Finch