AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one may or may not be pre-Strike. Have fun deciding in your own minds which one it is! Reviews are love, as always.
She stretched lazily, delicate fingers splaying skyward as she arched her back and sighed contentedly. She reminded him of some happy little housecat, her bright hazel eyes reduced to crescent-shaped slits as she squinted into the midmorning sunlight. Snuffing out his cigarette on a nearby post, he stepped up behind her and snaked his arms around her tiny waist in one swift motion. He could feel her heart beating steadily in her chest. "Beautiful day, innit?," she murmured, lithe hands resting on his coarse ones like fluttery little birds.
"Mmm," he grunted, placing his chin on her shoulder. "It's not so bad, I guess," he said quietly, lips pressed to her ear. One breathless laugh bubbled from her, and his lips curved up into that infamous smirk.
"I forgot how impossible it is to impress you, Spot," she teased, stepping out of his arms and closer to the water's edge. "Not even the blinding sun could sway you." A gentle breeze picked up then, swirling her deep blue skirts and slightly mussing her honey-colored hair. She shivered and hugged herself, glancing back at him.
"Well, I see the same sun every day, of course it don't impress me anymore," he chuckled, moving next to her. "It takes something a little more extraordinary to render me speechless." Hazel eyes flicked over to him, briefly scanned his face, then returned to the water. The familiar smirk widened into a Cheshire-like grin.
"Well, you are awfully quiet around me, Spot," she teased, turning to face him. The grin vanished.
"There isn't much to say, Rose. You know everything," he continued to gaze out at the water, stone-faced, but the hand that rested on his gold-tipped cane tightened its grip.
"Oh I know. Truth be told, I like the quiet. It's a nice break from all the noise at work." She looked back out at the river and inhaled deeply. Spot's grip on his cane released, and the easy smirk returned.
"Oh? Show business getting to be too much for you?"
"No, no, not at all. I love dancing for Medda more than anything. It all just gets to be a bit too…" she bit her bottom lip, searching for the right word. "Loud, I guess. Sometimes I just need to get away."
This amused him. "You have to get away from a noisy theater, so you choose to spend time with a bunch of loud newsboys? Am I missing something?"
She looked to him again, back flat against the boards, arms still wrapped around her torso. "Well, maybe it's not the noise, but the people making it." This time he turned his whole head to look at her, puzzled. She opened her arms out to either side, as though embracing him, the docks, and the entire river in front of them. "This is my home. The docks, the newsies…" she trailed off, allowing her arms to flop to her sides. "This is familiar to me. Safe." She began studying her hands, suddenly nervous, as though she'd said too much. "It's nice."
"You don't feel safe at Medda's?" His tone betrayed his sudden fear. He'd heard the stories of rough stagehands and dirty dealings. Hazel eyes widened.
"No! No, no, no, it's not like that at all! Jesus, Spot!" she laughed. "I'm saying that I miss you!"
It was suddenly too quiet on the docks, even though the everyday hustle and bustle of the city was no more than twenty feet away. Even though Spot knew that Coyote, his loyal second-in-command, was standing close by with a few of the older boys, keeping watch for him, he'd never felt more alone with someone in his life.
Spot would never admit how much it scared him. Or how much he enjoyed it.
"I swear, you always jump to the worst case scenario, Spot!" She gently took his free hand in both of hers, stepping closer. Raising his hand to her lips, she pressed a series of kisses to his knuckles. "Big worrywart."
He smirked. "King Worrywart, thank you very much." The hand that was on his cane rose up to touch her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she turned her face into his palm. "What am I gonna do with you, kid?" He pulled her close, folding her into his arms. "I miss you too," he muttered into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to her crown. She returned the gesture, rising up onto her toes to reach, which made the newsboy laugh. A real laugh, gentle and warm. "Silly girl."
They stayed like that, arms locked around each other, foreheads pressed together, for what felt like ages. All they could hear was their own breath in their lungs and the gentle lapping of the river at the docks.
These were the moments they reveled in, the quiet ones that no one really saw. Not even Jack saw this side of their relationship; to the newsies, they were resilient and headstrong, butting heads constantly, whether jokingly or not. They were affectionate in front of the crowds too, but in much more subtle ways; glances and smiles, hands brushing on occasion. This though, with bodies pressed close together, noses nuzzling… This wasn't something to be shared. This they were selfish with. This was their secret. This side of their relationship was all back-alley kisses and hands held under tables. Their cravings for affection were hidden in plain sight, and only a handful ever really knew about it.
"Spot!" Coyote's call shattered their quiet moment. Spot's head snapped up, grey eyes narrowing angrily at the interruption.
"What do you say, Coyote?" his voice was harsh, and one hand unconsciously clenched into a fist at Rose's side. The girl cleared her throat and looked up at the agitated newsboy with a pointed expression. Placing both hands on his chest, she rose up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose quickly.
"Play nice."
He rolled his eyes and squeezed her waist before stepping past her. "You got news for me, or you just flapping your jaw for the exercise?" he called to his second-in-command, one hand going to the cane at his hip. Small hands slid around his waist from behind. The taller boy loped over to them, pocketing his slingshot.
"Jack and two of his guys are coming this way." Both Spot and Rose stiffened slightly.
"Who's with him?"
"Boots. And some other guy I don't recognize. Must be new. They look like they mean business of some sort."
Spot nodded. "Alright, thanks Coyote. Go roll out the welcome mat for 'em, will you?" Once the other boy had left, he turned back to Rose, taking her hands in his.
"You wanna stick around and say hi to your brother?" he teased. "Or do you have to start heading back to Medda's?" He pressed a kiss to the back of each of her hands.
"Unfortunately, I do. We have a rehearsal for the new number later, and it's mandatory," she sighed deeply, stepping closer to him. "Walk me across the bridge?"
He laughed "I wish I could. But duty calls, gotta scare this new kid with your brother." She shoved him at that comment, playfully. He caught her hands and pulled her even closer, locking her into his embrace and kissing her deeply. She giggled as their lips parted, a sound that made every inch of his body feel warm. "Coyote and Hitch can take you across. They'll keep you safe." Once again, their noses were nuzzled together, arms looped around each other. She pouted into another kiss before relenting.
"Fine. But you owe me a walk, Conlon." Another quick kiss before they released each other. "And play nice with the new guy. Don't scare him too much."
"I make no promises, Sullivan," he smirked as she walked away.