Phew! It's been almost a year since I've posted a new Annie story. This is based off some of the deleted/cut scenes from an earlier version of the script. Most of the dialogue in the first chapter comes from the script with some additions here and there, so credit for those lines (as well as the general idea) go to the original writers. The rest will be more original, though based off of events in the script that were either cut or changed in the movie we all know and love. I hope you enjoy!
"Good evening, Annie. Good evening, Mr. Warbucks."
Grace joined the two at the dinner table, late as she'd been the past few evenings. As much as she adored Annie, her visit came with many distractions. She wasn't sure if Oliver had noticed just how behind they were. If he did he wasn't saying anything. Still, Grace did whatever she could to catch up before he sent the child back to the orphanage before her week was up.
As Grace took her usual chair across from Oliver, Annie looked up, her mouth full of strawberry pie.
"You can call him Oliver," she tried to say.
"No speaking with your mouth full," Grace said, ignoring the words said.
Mrs. Pugh came in with a tray, the food on it wilted and dry. The cook was less than pleased with Grace's tardiness, and it was obvious to anyone paying attention.
"Your dinner, miss."
"Thank you, Mrs. Pugh," she replied with a hint of a sigh. "I'm sorry I'm late."
Though normally cheerful, Mrs. Pugh hated to see her hard work spoil. Not that Grace was ever picky, but she didn't need one more person in this house delaying meals. Warbucks was bad enough. Funny to think he was the prompt one these days.
Oliver, oblivious to the mess Annie was making with her dessert and Mrs. Pugh's slam of the kitchen door, set down the evening paper long enough to ask, "How's our anti-Roosevelt plan coming, Miss Farrell?" Fork in hand, he took his first bite of pie before picking up the newspaper again.
Through another mouthful, Annie said, "You can call her Grace."
Both adults ignored her.
"According to my research," Grace said instead, "the National Recovery Administration is completely unconstitutional, Mr. Warbucks."
"Oliver," Annie corrected.
"Bravo, Miss Farrell."
"Grace."
"I can see the setup, Annie," Oliver said, peering over the newspaper. "If the pigeon can see the setup it won't work."
"Oh…" Annie said, twisting her lips and putting both elbows on the table gazing down at her now empty plate. "Okay, sir."
While Oliver laughed this off, he said to a blushing Grace, "I want to take whatever you've done to Washington with me Friday."
Her previous game forgotten, Annie jumped to her feet. "Then you're going?!"
Oliver scoffed. "To tell the man he's an idiot."
In a second she was at his side. "Can I come? Please? Pretty please?"
"Absolutely not," he said with a wave of his hand.
Now she was standing by Grace. "What'll I wear?!"
With a chuckle, Grace said over Annie's shoulder, "You best take her, sir."
"Why should I?" he asked, completely unamused by the situation.
"Because you won't hear the end of it until you do."
He contemplated this for a moment. When he set the paper down with a sigh, Annie knew she'd won.
"Oh boy!" she cheered. "The kids'll never believe this. I'm gonna go write them a letter right now!"
Before either of the adults could blink, Annie was gone. Even Oliver had to laugh at this.
"I've really got myself into a mess, haven't I?"
With a smirk, Grace nodded. "I'm afraid so."
