CHESS

Chapter Eleven

My stomach was growling.

I hadn't eaten a thing since that afternoon when Silver brought me lamb stew and I was starving. Sighing, I took Lily in my arms and walked the floor with her. Since Izzy was still deemed 'recovering' from her sickness, all of us girls took turns taking care of Lily until she felt better.

I must admit, I have no maternal bone in my body. I am horrid with children, let alone babies. The only reason the birds flock to be is because I tell thrilling stories. I'm terrified of having my own children because I do not want to infect them with the awful acid that runs through my veins.

And yet, there I was, walking the floor with a damn baby in my arms. She'd stopped crying long ago, but she was still awake, staring at me with large blue eyes. I was a horrible person. Babies were not all that cute to me. I actually found them rather horrid to look at. But Lily I could stand, because she looked like Izzy, but her nose belonged to Blink.

I had decided long ago that I would never, ever, EVER have children. No matter what happened between Sean and I, I would never be a good parent. I had swallowed that pill long ago. I was damaged, and there were spiders in my belly, spinning webs with silk thread around my insides, pulling them together so it made it impossible to feel any sort of love and affection to the small bundle, ANY small bundle, that would grace my arms.

It was sick to think about, really, but it was true. I would make a terrible mother.

But when Lily finally decided that she was tired, I set her down in her bassinet in the other room and tucked blankets around her little body. She cooed and shifted slightly and then stilled once more into sleep. I felt nothing.

I felt like a bitch for feeling that way.

Leaning against the wall, I let my head fall back against it and sighed. I inhaled a sudden rush of gardenias and shuddered slightly as the room dropped twenty degrees. She was here.

"You hate babies."

"I know that."

"Then why did you touch THAT baby?"

"It was my turn to put her down."

"What shit. You'd make an awful mother, Lissie."

'Tell me about it."

I was getting used to her ghost being mean to me. How sad was it that I was starting to get used to her? I was tired, though, so I wasn't in the mood to argue with her.

"Spot's waiting on the roof for you, y'know, Lissie." It sounded like we were discussing the weather, or talking about her new dress. Much too flippant.

I sighed. "I'm really not in the mood for games."

"Go look for yourself."

I sighed and pushed myself off the wall, peering out the window at the falling snow. I shuffled downstairs and pulled my coat and boots on, tugging my cap on. I crept outside and up the fire escape, poking my head over the top of the roof, seeing Spot sitting on the middle near the chimney.

"Told you," Diana whispered in my head.

I pushed her to the back of my mind and climbed to the top of the fire escape, having to pull myself onto the roof. I dusted my hands on my trousers and smiled when I realized that Spot was staring at me.

"Heya, Liss."

"Hey." I came over and sat down beside him, shuddering slightly at the cold air. "Why don't you come inside? It's freezing out here."

When we'd gone inside, I curled up beside him on the old beat up couch at the landing of the stairs, his arms sliding around me automatically. I settled my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Diana was staying away, but I could smell gardenias faintly. She was still around.

"Silver said you told him you went to see Diana's grave today," he said, his voice quiet.

"Mhm," I agreed.

"Do you miss her?"

I used to, every single minute of every damn day, but now she's been haunting me and frightening me and being really, uncharacteristically mean to me and I don't miss her anymore. I wish she would just crawl back into her stupid hole and leavemealone.

"Sometimes, when I think about her too much."

"I want you to know I got everything under control, Liss. With Johnny, I mean. I know what I'm doing. I hope you ain't worried about me."

"I'm always worried about you, Sean," I admitted. "I can't help it. And you're always worried about me. No matter what you or I say."

He chuckled softly and I felt it rumble against my cheek. He pressed an absent kiss to my forehead and we sat together like that for a long while. I didn't keep track of time with I was with him; it wasn't worth it. I hardly cared about much when he was around. That was probably not a good thing, but there it was.

I was falling asleep, I was sure. I leaned against his shoulder, pressed much too easily against him. His arms were around me like a blanket and I felt warm again. I missed lying beside a warm body at night, especially since it was winter now and I could use all the help I could get. The last thing I remember, before falling asleep, was hearing was Spot's voice:

"I love you, Alyssa."

My body pulled me from sleep the next morning. I rubbed my eyes, confused. I was back in my bunk, trousers folded neatly on the floor next to my bed just like I always did. Had I dreamt that Spot came last night?

"C'mon, Ang! Carryin' the banner!" Charlie called, breezing down the center of the room, stuffing her hair under her cap.

I pulled my trousers back on, still rather confused. I didn't like such a terrible feeling of… I couldn't even describe it. It was a terrible feeling. though. Fear knotted around anxiety. Perhaps I really was going insane.

Irrationally, I was leaning towards not going and talking to Nightshade about seeing Diana around. It was not smart of me at all, but I wasn't sure if my brain was just playing tricks on me. I didn't want to be insane, so I figured if I pretended that I wasn't insane, then maybe it would go away.

I told you: irrational.

I hauled myself out of bed, scrubbed my face with stingingly cold water, pulled my warm clothes on and moseyed after the girls as they trotted down the sidewalk. Skittery was walking along with Liz under his arm and they seemed to be talking intently about something. Liz's little boy William tottered along beside her, skipping and balancing himself on the edge of the sidewalk.

"Hey, Ang."

I smiled and stuffed my fists into my coat pockets, seeing Josie, or as the boys called her, Ramble, materialize beside me on the way towards the distribution yard. She grinned and mimicked my hands in her own pockets. Her long, white-blonde hair was braided into one long braid down her back and looked innocently under her smart grey cap.

"Hey, Ramble. What goes on?" I asked her, glad for her company.

She wasn't a fighter like Fire and Sam were, but she held her own rather well. And she was the flirt of the group in Brooklyn, and she had the Brooklynites wrapped around her pinky finger, and she worked it. She wasn't as bent out of shape as Fire and Sam were when Spot kicked the girls out of Brooklyn. In fact, she had that saucy look on her face, which meant she could've cared less where she was, as long as there were boys there.

She'd come from the Bronx, and I instantly sympathized with that. I gathered that Johnny had gotten a little too close for comfort, without her flirting, and she packed up and moved on. I didn't blame her one bit for it. She must have been tough, to pass right through Manhattan to settle in Brooklyn. At least she wouldn't have had to be tough in front of the Manhattaners; they were too nice.

"Not much," she answered easily. "Got a sellin' partner?"

I shrugged. "Probably not. It changes everyday. Wanna sell together?"

"Stop begging, Ang. It's not ladylike," Ramble teased and I nudged her with my arm, forcing her to nudge back, and we laughed together. "So, Race, what's the odds today?"

"Four to one on the fifth," Race spouted almost instantly, grinning, his left arm hooked through Pip's. She looked like she was in heaven. "Got a real good feeling about it, too. Why? You'se girls wanna lay a friendly wager?"

"Damn straight," Ramble agreed instantly. "Ten cents, Racey. You make bad bets."

"Make it twenty. I gotta agree with that, Race," I told him.

The scrappy Italian shrugged his shoulders and stuffed a cigar in his mouth. "Whatever you say, girls. One of these days I'se gonna get a lot of money at the tracks."

Piper gave Ramble and I a conspiratorial eye-roll and then smiled angelically at Race when he smiled at her. Ramble and I laughed and he was caught unaware.

We bought our papers quickly and left the yard, heading towards Ramble's usual spot a few blocks away. We called out a few false headlines, thanking those utter fools for swarming to us, then grabbed our papers and shuffled away, giggling, to find another spot before those rich folks figured out we'd just bluffed them into buying a paper whose front page headline was some shit about it being a colder winter than normal.

Honestly, who writes these headlines?

"I miss Brooklyn," Ramble said, sighing wistfully. I almost laughed at the look on her face.

"You miss that boy in Brooklyn," I told her, and then grinned.

"Which boy?" Ramble asked slyly, slanting me a cheeky smirk and I nudged her with a laugh.

"The boy that works at the docks!" I exclaimed. "What's his name…"

"His name is Sailor and he is delicious," Ramble said matter-of-factly and then shrugged. "But he doesn't even know I exist."

I smiled. Sailor knew she existed; the damn boy used to watch her all the time when she flitted around the docks in the summer. I think he purposefully removed his shirt while he was working to show off his killer abs. Yum.

Ramble's slight shallowness reminded me of Diana; the Diana I knew, not the frightening poltergeist that was currently haunting my every step. Ramble, however, was living up to her name by talking my ear off about how seriously handsome Sailor was and how she couldn't wait until we girls were allowed back in Brooklyn because she wanted to flirt with him. Again.

I wished I was as shameless as Ramble was in her flirting. But I was much too embarrassed out by so many eyes on me. Ramble, however, seemed to thrive under the watchful eyes of her many, MANY male admirers.

She and I sold all morning together, taking a bit longer than usual because I couldn't help myself. We passed stuffy old man with a fat wallet stuck in his back pocket. I grinned slyly, my old ways as a pickpocket never really having gone away completely, and so I careened myself straight into him, blushing and stumbling a little, knocking his cane from his hand.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" I exclaimed, plucking the wallet expertly from his pocket and stuffing it in my vest as he bent to retrieve his fallen cane. "I guess I just got caught in the excitement. So sorry."

"No harm done, dear," the stuffy man said and patted my head as if I were a child. "Merry Christmas to you."

I doffed my cap and then took off, pulling Ramble from the sidelines without breaking stride. She was laughing loudly and we ran the entire way to Tibby's, just in case the old man found out that his wallet was gone. When we reached the restaurant, we spent a good few minutes outside just laughing about it.

We straightened up when the door open and a very sober-looking Cowboy leaned out and motioned for us to come inside. Ramble and I exchanged looks and then followed Jack inside. There was a small huddle around one of the tables and I realized that it was Bumlets, since Dutchy and Swifty were around him. Mirror sat beside Bumlets, of course, looking absolutely horrified.

"What's wrong?" I asked, making everyone look up at me. I frowned when Mirror sent me the most caustic look I'd ever seen anyone give me. She looked like she hated me.

She stood up and continued to glare. "You, that's what's wrong!" she shouted. "The stupid Bronx boys rushed Bumlets this morning while we were selling. He has a black eye all because of Conlon's stupid fight."

I blinked a few times and then realized that Bumlets left eye was black as pitch. A rush of guilt overwhelmed me.

"Bumlets, I'm so sorry," I said, pulling my hat off to run my fingers through my hair.

"It's only an eye, Ang. It'll heal," Bumlets tried to smile and then winced slightly and rubbed his jaw. It looked a little swollen. Damnit.

"Don't do that. Don't excuse this," Mirror snapped at him, and then tuned her accusing eyes to me. "We're friends, Angel, but as far as I'm concerned, you did this to him. You'd be pissed too if someone could lay a hand on Conlon, but God forbid anybody beat up the damn newsie king! God forbid we take his pride down a few notches!"

I flinched, stung by her words. "It's not my fault Spot and the Bronx are fighting."

"They wouldn't be fighting if you hadn't shown up!"

There it was. She said it. I wondered if they were all thinking that. If Spot didn't realize who I was in the summer, this thing would've never started, Bumlets would be all right, and I would be off being a rich girl somewhere, probably about to get married.

I took a step back, nodding slightly, and then turned for the door. Ramble grabbed my arm and I looked over at her.

"Don't go, Angel. She's just angry. She doesn't mean it," she said.

"It's okay, Ramble. I know she's mad. But she did mean it," I replied and ducked out of the restaurant.

Heylo, kiddies! I wrote this chapter, in whole, on my new, awesome, fabulous, expensive ass laptop! Yayayayayay! Sorry this took forever. I was drooling over it for a bit and forgot to continue writing. But here it is. HOpefully it's not too awful.

Oh, and E.V. I hope you don't mind the little outburst from your character. I figured I'd play off the fact that she doesn't like Brooklyn, so that's why that little plot thread is there. Woot for plot threads! (And hopefully she's not too mad at me)

CTB!

xx Wicked

P.S- Ramble/Josie belongs to leaderbraken (and I hope to God she's cool with the nickname). And Liz belongs to Blinksgoil92. Please feel free to soak me if I've gotten your characters wrong. :)