A/N: Welcome back! Before we go on with the chapter I want to thank: Newland Archer, XantheXV, guest, ForeverACharmedOne, BelleinWonderland, LabyFan23, JoJo1812, HelloBruiser, TinkerbellxO, dionne dance and Leyshla Gisel. You are all wonderful!

Disclaimer: I do not own Public Enemies.

Chapter 6

I've always known myself. But he was the first to recognize me. And to love what he saw.

~Jane Eyre

Her tongue feels like sandpaper as soon as she regains her senses. Her head feels heavy and it is throbbing as she stirs. Her back aches from being huddled against the backseat for so long, but that is not why she is awake. The car has stopped moving and there is someone next to her while the rifles are gone from her side. She can feel a hand on her shoulder, shaking her firmly and she has no choice but to open her eyes. The first thing she realizes is that it is still dark. The second thing that slowly sinks in is that John has his hand on her shoulder, but his dark eyes are on the bare skin of her legs. Frowning, she sits up, causing his hand to slide down from her shoulder and right onto her lap, before she quietly follows his gaze. She cringes when she realizes that the cuts on her feet and calves have been left unattended. She can see the caked blood over the cuts and she can feel the sting of the glass.

"Where are we?" she speaks up and her throat feels even drier than she had originally thought.

John looks up and slowly removes his hand from her lap, causing her to jolt slightly. Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he takes a look around, "Not too far away from Chicago….Lake Michigan." He says simply and Miranda sits up further, her limbs protesting at the sudden movement.

"Michigan City?" she asks with a frown.

"Hmm." Dillinger suddenly moves and gets out of the car.

Miranda slides forward and with his offered hand, she gets out as well, "What are we doing in the middle of nowhere?"

John releases her hand and shrugs out of his thick coat, "Resting." He deadpans as he heads towards the thicker area of trees.

"In the open?" She follows him hastily, "Where is Hamilton?"

John takes his time to answer and then simply looks at her from over his shoulder, a smirk on his face as he swings the coat over his shoulder and quickens his footsteps.

"Went to take a leak."

Miranda flushes and huffs, "Did you have to remind me?" she grumbles as she looks around.

John pauses to chuckle and then whirls around, his arms spread open wide.

"Be my guest. Big space, don't you think?" He winks and then finally leans down to spread his thick coat on the ground.

Miranda scowls behind his back, "Right." She takes a deep breath and then heads right towards the trees, passing by the robber in the process.

"Whoa, whoa. Where are you going?" He laughs loudly and she pauses in mid-step.

"I need to go…"

He nods his head, trying to remain serious, "Right. Better head that way, doll." He points towards his right, "Unless you want to have a date with Red's little prince." He snickers, but Miranda doesn't find him amusing at all.

Without a word, she heads towards the opposite direction, all the way listening to his amused laughter.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A bottle of whiskey is passed over to her and she looks up when she notices Red walking past them.

Miranda looks at the bottle with puzzlement.

"Where you going?" John calls as he opens his eyes. He is sitting against a tree trunk and Miranda is seated next to him upon his coat.

"I am not freezing my balls out here." Red calls and Miranda rolls her eyes at his choice of words.

"What am I doing with this?" she asks out loud, but neither of two men pays her any heed.

"I'll wake you up before the sun's up."

Red waves him as he gets onto the backseat of the car and moves around until he's comfortable.

Miranda can't help it, "Such gentleman."

John snickers, "Who cares for warmth when there is such largeness?" he smirks, "Hand me the bottle." He impatiently wiggles his fingers and she passes it over to him.

He grins and opens it. She watches as he slowly brings it to his nose and inhales. She is gaping when he sighs.

"What is it with men and…alcohol?" she mutters just as he takes a long sip, hissing as he does so.

"Well, doll," He thrusts the bottle back to her, "You'll have to forget your little problems with it and drink up. It'll keep you warm." He pauses and then shrugs out of his suit jacket.

"Might even get some more sleep." He covers her with it and she stares at him.

"What about you?"

He chuckles, "I'm good."

Miranda takes a sip and then quickly hands him the bottle, shaking her head, "You can have it…" she shudders as the taste comes to haunt her like a vivid reminder. Her father's breath used to smell exactly the same when he had-…

"Ah, sore subject again, ey doll?" He takes a sip and then runs his fingers through his hair, "Ol'daddy is wounded pretty bad…Who knows what might happen."

Miranda looks at him sharply, "Don't say that."

John pauses with the drink half way down his throat. He swallows and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"What was that?" He turns to face, his nicely shaped lips a surprised 'o' shape, "You don't feel sorry about him, do ya? That would negate all the…help you've provided me with."

She sighs, "I wish death upon no one."

"Clearly, you've not had it bad just yet-…"

"Or maybe some of us don't end up thieves and killers." She points out and he holds a finger up.

"Hold it right there, doll. I ain't killing people." He seems offended and she smirks a little.

"Right. Only your friends are."

"Nelson's a wild animal. Can't be reigned in." He waves away her comment and washes it down with another sip of the amber liquid.

"That's not an excuse." She whispers slowly and he turns to eye her with displeasure.

"Really?"

She pulls his jacket closer to her and turns to look at him, "Has it ever occurred to you that agents, police officers and bank directors are just doing their job? It's not their fault."

"Oh, I know all about that." He smirks a little, "You're speaking like an agent's daughter."

"I was born an agent's daughter. Not my fault either."

"Perhaps a tour in the corridors of a state penitentiary would help you realize that there is no right or wrong." He tilts his head to the side cockily, "One must do whatever he must to survive, doll. If you're looking for saints you ain't gonna find them here."

She bristles, "You forget that I have met no saints in my brief life, John. Don't speak to me about goodness." She takes the bottle from him and he raises an eyebrow as he watches her take a sip.

"Now we're talking…" He snorts as she pushes the whiskey right back into his hands.

"Why did you choose this life?" The question tumbles out of her mouth naturally and for a moment he frowns.

"'Cause I like it."

She gazes at him with a look of surprise and her expression causes him to laugh loudly. Red pressing on the car horn makes him laugh even more and Miranda shakes her head.

"Sorry, honey." He whirls the bottle between his hands, "You ain't gonna find traumatic stories in my little life." He purses his lips and Miranda tries not to be distracted by them.

Shocked by her reaction, she looks at his hands instead. Wrong move again.

"Well, sure," he continues with a bemused laugh, "My ol'man used to show his firm hand more times than I'd care to count," He looks up and locks eyes with her, 'But no one made me do anything I didn't wanna do. I am who I am." His eyes search her face and he notices with a little affectionate disgruntlement that the whiskey has caused a small flush to blossom on her usually alabaster skin.

"Right…And a criminal is what you've always dreamed to be?"

His eyes which had strayed to her mouth suddenly snap up to her eyes.

"Yeah…When you get ten years for a few dollars theft…Sure. Why not?"

His answer makes her falter and she leans back against the tree, bringing her knees to her chest.

"What about me?" she asks and he smirks a little.

"Well, you're a good girl."

Miranda sputters for a few seconds, "Good girl?" she repeats and he offers her the bottle again. She takes it because his eyes are suddenly too focused on her and she needs to look away. Lack of sleep is making her feel strange. She is certain of it.

"Yeah. A good girl. You don't like being a nice girl, doll?" His fingers are swift enough to push a lock of hair that is stuck on the side of her mouth and she tenses up. His fingers brush her skin when he pushes the hair away and she doesn't look at him when a tingle is left upon the corner of her mouth.

"I am not a good girl." She mutters at last, taking a tentative sip for warmth's sake, "But that was not what I was meaning to ask with that question…"

John chuckles at that and drums his fingers upon his thigh, "Uh huh…" He cocks an eyebrow, "Let me guess…" He brushes his upper lip with his thumb as he regards her, "Daddy has made you think you're…bad because you tempted him. Am I getting somewhere here?" He tries to find her eyes and she is surprised that a man like him was able to figure out something that had taken months of therapy for her to achieve.

She clears her throat, "Classic case, Mr. Dillinger. Very good." She turns to look at him, "You must have been a good student."

He sniggers and takes the bottle from her, "On the contrary. I got all Fs." His eyes were glimmering in amusement.

"Is that so?"

"Hmm."

Miranda shrugs, "I no longer think that by the way…" she starts, "I try not to anyway." Her voice is a small murmur, but she can feel his eyes on the side of her face and she is surprised that she can hold his attention by mentioning her messed up life.

"Try? So, you'd feel that you were naughty if you knew that men are attracted by a broad like you?" he huffs and shakes his head, "Doll, your father is a bastard."

"You're just saying that because he's after you." She laughs a little.

"Nah. I'm saying that 'cause it's true. And you never answered me." His eyes are narrowed and she can feel herself getting even pinker by the second.

Shifting uncomfortably upon the ground, she looks at the dark Essex across from them.

"It's not difficult to think that way when you feel dirty."

"Wha'? You mean these nasty little cuts? Caked blood is washed off easily, sugar." His voice is nonchalant.

She looks at him with puzzlement, "You're tying to make me feel better about myself…Why?"

Dillinger doesn't try to deny it, "You're with me now, doll." His reply causes a small flutter to blossom inside her belly.

"That is what I meant. Why am I with you?" she whispers and he blinks, his expression blank.

"How do you think ol'dad found you, doll?" His question catches her off guard.

"Um…I told you he was getting closer-…"

"Technology, doll. Phones. He's probably been intercepting Jackson's calls. It would take little time to find out you were working there. Now he's seen you. What do you think he'd do?" John is gazing at her like she is a simpleton and she blinks rapidly.

"I know what would happen to me if he caught me. I am not asking you that. I asked the reason behind your decision to tug me along. I am nothing but a burden. I am not like you."

He surprises her when he chuckles, "Are you sure about that?" He takes a swing from the bottle, "'Cause it seemed to me that you were looking for a way out."

Miranda stiffens, "From the rain of shots? I sure as hell was!"

"No, doll. From everything. I did you a favor really." He suddenly stands up and as he leans over her strands of his dark hair fall across his forehead, "You spent too many hours locked inside that doctor's office…You needed to break the routine." He pauses, "Tell me, how long has it been since you've been for a…what you smart people call them…Oh right. Session?" His cocky expression causes her anger to flare, but once again he is right.

"I will ignore the fact that you've been stalking me and I'll just say a few weeks."

"Hmm…That's right. The world's out here, doll."

"So, I will find the joys of the world by living like a criminal? On the run?"

"If you want to turn back and head right into jail, I have no problem." His eyes are slightly narrowed, "The stir is no place for beautiful women." His voice is slightly rough and Miranda wonders if his comment is also directed towards his incarcerated girlfriend. Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel.

"John." She calls and he pauses.

"Yeah?" His eyes are weary when he looks back at her.

Miranda sits up, "I didn't thank you…"

His eyebrows rise high on his forehead.

"So, thank you."

For a moment she thinks he's going to walk away, but in a flash his mouth changes and curls up in a wide grin.

"No problem, honey. It' be a waste anyway." He let his eyes drop below her face and she doesn't feel as intimidated by the long look as she should feel. A shudder goes through her and her temperature rises as his eyes drop onto her bare feet.

Corking the bottle he ignores her next question.

"Waste?"

His mouth twitches and he smirks secretively before he throws the remaining whiskey towards her.

"Better clean those up, eh? I'll take a walk. Be back soon."

He thrusts his hands in the pockets of his pants and then takes off, treading carefully through the trees, his swagger confident and suave.

Miranda averts her eyes and decides to take his advice. She uses the leftover drink to clean the nasty cuts on her legs, admiring him for not trying to cajole her like a babe. Deep down, she understands why though. He's just too considerate to mention his dislike for her constant inclination to cower at every touch. He is a man after all. Being compared with her sick father is certainly a blow…

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Is this…a farm?" Miranda breathes as the Essex stops directly in front of an old cottage.

"Yeah." Red calls as he turns off the engine and gets out of the car.

John watches his partner and then looks back at Miranda, "Come on, doll. Stay close." He pushes the door open and then helps her out, his eyes on the house.

"It looks…abandoned."

"It used to be one of our hideouts here in Indiana…" John's eyes are perusing the periphery, "Come on."

As they head slowly towards the cottage the roar of another car engine causes them to pause. A dark blue Plymouth comes and stops right in front of Dillinger and Miranda takes a step back.

"Easy. It's just Shaw." He smirks when a younger man gets out of the car along with a taller bulky one.

"Shaw?" Miranda mutters as the two men shake hands and John claps Shaw on the shoulder.

"An old friend." Hamilton informs her as he opens the door of the Plymouth to grab a bag that was inside.

Miranda is left to stare at the three men as Red makes his way into the cottage, obviously eager for a roof over his head.

"It's fast." Shaw grins when he points at the new car, "And legal." He adds and Dillinger snickers.

"How's that possible?

"I've got a few friends. Goin' to get rid of the Essex. You've used it for far too long. Gonna leave Parker here with you while I take care of this." Shaw takes the keys from John's hand and heads straight for the Essex, "Park it behind the house so it's not visible from the driveway."

John nods and then turns to Parker, "What happened to the gal?"

Shaw takes his time to shoot a glance towards Miranda who tries hard not to flinch back from the intense look. When his blue eyes wrinkle at the corners and he decides it is time to smirk at her she gives a small incline of her head. Her reaction causes him to chuckle and John turns his attention towards them.

"Willie." The reprimand is evident; so is the hard look and Shaw raises his hands up in surrender before he gets into the car.

"The feds must have caught her when they raided the place months ago." Parker replies.

"And the boy?"

Parker shrugs and John grits his teeth, "You said the place was safe." He hisses as Miranda steps closer.

"It is. No one's goin' to come back here. There was no lock on the door when we arrived last night. We fixed it as fast as we could after your call."

John runs a hand through his hair, "Did you bring the guns?"

"Yeah. They are on the back." Parker points with his thumb towards the Plymouth.

John steps around to get to the car and Miranda is suddenly face to face with the other man.

"Johnny, who is she?" Parker smirks a little and Miranda straightens her posture, her lips parted in order to reply, but the robber cuts her off.

"I'm-…"

"Her name's Eliza and she's with me. Make a round and check the area, will ya?" John slams the car door loudly and motions for Miranda to follow him.

Parker, taken aback by the animosity, nods quickly and scurries away, while Miranda arrives next to John's side.

Dillinger grabs her elbow and pushes her towards the cottage while holding onto the heavy bag of guns with the other.

"Eliza?" she whispers and John sighs.

"Think, doll. I ain't gonna let anyone besides Red know your name. Especially ol' thickheaded Parker." They enter the cottage and he turns the door without fully shutting it. The house is old, but it is a luxury when compared to the night they had to spend outside in the cold.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Dillinger smirks, "I work with a lot of men, but I trust very few to keep their mouths shut when questioned about me and my affairs. Got it?"

Miranda nods and he motions towards the chairs, "Take a seat or something. I'm going to put the car to the back and then check these out." He pats the bag before he leaves it by the door.

"There are sandwiches in that bag, Mira-…"

"Are you talking to Eliza?" Dillinger cuts in and Red who had just poked his head in to look at them frowns and then quickly catches on.

"Oh, yeah! Right. Eliza. There's food." Hamilton nods and Miranda smiles.

John rolls his eyes and with a last look at her, walks out of the house, closing the door behind him.

Miranda picks up a sandwich and the cheese and ham in it taste like heaven to her dry mouth. Still chewing, she stands up and starts walking around the house, pausing by the bag of guns. Swallowing, she reaches down and unzips it. She frowns when she notices something odd. There are guns in there for sure, but there are also clothes. Cocking a single dark eyebrow, she reaches down and pulls up a long dark blue dress.

"Um, Red?" she calls and it doesn't take long for the other gangster to come to her.

"What?" He pauses when he sees her, "John won't like that." He admonishes and she allows the dress to fall right back down and into the bag.

"I suppose that bank robbers need dresses, right?" She asks with a small smile as her stomach flutters with warmth at the considerate gesture.

Hamilton blinks and then shrugs, a smirk on his lips, "Oh, sure. Especially when we're hiding in a stinking ol'cottage. There's a donkey out there in the back. Did you see it?" He jerks his head towards the back of the house and she laughs a little.

"No."

"I'll take you for a ride with it." He winks playfully and she smiles before she quickly sobers up.

"Seriously, how did you…"

"Phone call. You sleep like the dead by the way. That needs to change if you're gonna be with us." Red is far more serious that he was just a moment ago and she quickly nods.

"Now zip it back up. He ain't gonna like it that you ruined his surprise." He points a finger at her and then at the bag.

Miranda closes the bag right up and just as she is about to turn back towards the chair, John walks in with Parker.

He notices her stare and raises an eyebrow, "Wha'? You didn't miss me, did ya?" He winks and she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat.

John chuckles, picks up the bag and walks towards the stairs. Parker trails after him, but not without pausing to look at her from over his shoulder.

Miranda stares right back at him steadily until he nudges Dillinger to get his attention.

"Where did you get her from? I want one." He whispers and John smirks a little without looking at him.

"You could never afford her, boy. Now get your head out of your ass and follow me." He mutters and as they arrive at one of the two bedrooms of the cottage he turns and sticks the tip of a gun right against Parker's temple.

The man jumps and his eyes go wide.

"Do more than look at her while we're here and I'll cut your legs off. Perhaps, I'll even aim a little higher." John lowers his voice to a mere whisper, "Have I made myself clear or do I need to spell these out for you?"

Parker quickly shakes his head, "It was just a joke, Johnny."

Dillinger pulls the gun away and smirks, "I know that. But the greatest truths are often told in jokes."

Parker gulps and John simply pats his shoulder before he turns and disappears into the room. Parker follows him with a thin layer of sweat on his skin and with a much lesser enthusiasm this time…

End of chapter 6

Author's note: Thank you for reading!

Okay, a little info. Shaw and Parker where real persons, real robbers, and Dillinger's partners when he was starting out. I am not sure if they are still alive or free in 1933, but for the sake of my plot they are. I am reading a book about Dillinger and so far they are alive…So…

The cottage they arrive at in this chapter is actually the one shown in the movie right after the first escape from jail…The very first scene, where Dillinger broke his friends out of the prison in Michigan City.

Right, so…Comments? Liked it? Hated it? Please let me know!

Xxx Lina :D