Chapter One:

(For East Side)

It was a normal Friday night at the Curtis house when Dallas Winston stopped by. The sun was fading in the distance and there was a slight wind rising up from the north. His dad had kicked him out of the house again and it was getting too cold to sleep outside in the lot, even wrapped in his leather jacket. He contemplated Bucks but after ruffling in his pockets for change he came up empty. Oh well, at least there was a free couch at the Curtis' he could put to good use.

As he climbed the steps he could hear Two-bit Matthews cussing out Sodapop and his poor channel surfing abilities. Dally shook his head, lit up a cigarette and pulled the screen door open. As it clanged shut behind him all eyes turned to him and Two-Bit, dragging a half-conscious Soda on the living room floor, yelled, "Get his feet Dally, get his feet!"

Dally, not one to miss out on all the fun, grabbed at Soda's flailing feet and together they lifted his struggling body past various greasers, through the kitchen, and dropped him bodily into the bathtub. Soda screamed, "It's fucking cold you guys!"

"Yeah," Two-Bit pointed out, "just like yer soul!"

Together the two greasers ran back through the kitchen, Dally snagging a beer on his way through. Popping the top off he chugged it down and plopped down on the worn couch next to Ponyboy.

"Hey, kid, where's your brother?"

"Darry? Oh, he's still at work for another hour or so. You looking for something in particular?"

Dally shook his head, watching the television screen as Two-Bit surfed the snowy channels in search of something, anything, better than what Soda had been watching. Soda had climbed out of the tub and was rubbing off with a towel, cursing the two for their impromptu prank, when he decided he was too soaked and needed to change.

"I'll be right back down," he looked pointedly at Two-Bit, "don't you steal anything while I'm gone!"

Two-Bit protested, spreading his arms wide and trying his best to look innocent, "Who, me?"

Two-Bit had a slight problem with making off with things that didn't belong to him. Dally watched Ponyboy struggle with a math problem from the book that sat on his lap, slapped it and said, "Why do you even bother Pony? You know you're just going to wind up here, in this living room, drinking beer and eatin' chocolate cake for the rest of your life. Just," he declared wildly, "like all the rest of us greasers!"

Dally rubbed Pony's neatly greased hair and mused it up, causing Pony to heave an exasperated sigh and abandon the couch for the kitchen table.

Two-Bit got up and followed him to the kitchen, opened the fridge and cut himself a piece of chocolate cake. "You know Dally, I wouldn't interrupt Pony when he's doing his homework. If it's not done by the time Darry gets home he won't be allowed out at all!"

Dally sucked on his smoke and looked over the couch at them, "What's the plan for tonight anyway? Any rumbles goin' on?"

Pony shrugged his shoulders and Two-bit, between mouthfuls of cake, said, "I dunno, Dal."

They sat in silence until the thud-thud-thud of Soda running down the stairs followed by him, all cleaned up and looking nice said, "Well, I don't know what y'all are doing, but me and Sandy are going to the theatre!"

"Hmm, sounds like a good time to me, eh Dally?" Two-Bit nudged Dally and together they decided it would be worth the trouble just to ruin Soda's date, "You in Ponyboy?"

Soda groaned in protest but it was already decided; they were all going to the drive in.

Shortly Darry arrived from work, sweaty and tired and, after double checking that Ponyboy's homework was done for the weekend he let him go with the gang for the night. Pony closed his books as they all whooped and threw on Jean jackets. Someone commented they had to pick up Johnny from the lot on their way by.

"Hold up, guys," Darry held a hand up and leaned against the kitchen wall. Someone groaned and whispered, "Yes dad, home by ten."

Darry ignored the voice and went on to ask, "has everyone heard about Tim Shepard?" He continued at all the blank looks, the Curtis gang never met up with the Shepard gang until a pretty significant rumble against the socs was scheduled.

"Tim was busted a while back, packing a blade and assaulting some socs. Anyway, he went to the cooler and they placed him in some rehab program for," he air quoted, "troubled youth."

Two-Bit smirked and said, "Troubled? That guy's so tuff he could take down ten socs on his own and still stand to tell the tale. I've seen it. Best gang leader in the East Side."

"Well," Darry continued, "he ain't no gang leader any more. At the end he did so well they put him into the Community Clean-up Program...in uniform."

Dally's smoke hung from his lips as he sputtered, "Tim Shepard? In uniform? No way...the Tim I know wouldn't be caught dead as a cop."

Darry nodded and replied, "Ran into his brother today, said he was given the choice to clean up or get out. Curly chose to leave. I guess Curly took up with some greaser girl and is living with her for now."

Dally tuned out as he ran the absurd idea through his head. Tim Shepard gang leader turned into Tim Shepard, the cop. The gang discussed it in the background, talking about how Curly called the shots now and they could expect a rumble with the Shepard gang now that Tim was out of the picture.

It just didn't fit.

As the guys piled out the door on their way to the movie Dally hung back, chewing on his lip deep in thought.

"Hey, Dal, you coming?" They were shouting at him now but he didn't care.

He backed away and said, "See you there, I've got something I gotta do first."

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up, movie starts soon!" Two-Bit threw an arm around Soda's shoulder and asked him where Stevie was.

Dallas broke off from the group opting instead for a makeshift path through the park and various alley-ways. His feet knew where he was going before his mind did and before he knew it he was standing outside the Shepard house. There was a light on upstairs and he could hear two voices and a television going. Tim's car was a rust bucket but it was still ten times better than anything anyone else drove around here.

Dally snuck up beside the car's rear tires and pulled out his switch blade. Honestly, Tim taking up the badge was an insult to the entire East Side...not to mention his very own gang. He punctured the first tire with an audible pop and he winced at the noise, looking up at the window.

One by one he popped the tires and watched in satisfaction as each side sank to the gravel.

Dallas Winston had a bone to pick with Tim Shepard.