OW! Brook jumped, a very sharp something had just been jabbed in to her sleeping rib cage.
"Up," a voice grunted form above her. Brook blinked open bleary eyes, squinting to see in the sun's glare. A dark silhouette loomed above her…Okay, not 'loomed', per-say, but close enough.
"Yes?" she murmured groggily, stretching out heavily cramped legs. Note to self; do not sleep with legs under body.
There was a slight nudge to her ankles, and she looked up. The face of her new ward looked down on her, trying desperately to swap a look of confusion with accusation. The sun glinted off his hair, and she shaded her eyes, I want sunglasses! She mentally whined, and braced her legs to stand.
"Who are you?" The boy, Spot, Brook mentally corrected, asked bluntly when she had regained the use of her legs.
Brook blinked again, surveying the crowd of newsies below them. Funny, they're all very badly trying to pretend not to watch us.
"Who are you?" he asked again, maneuvering in front of her face. Brook raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and resting her weight on the foot behind her.
"Well that all depends, who wants to know?" she replied with all-do cheek. Spot scoffed, and half-chuckled.
"I don' think you quite grasp the situation sweetheart," he grinned. "Now, lets try this once again. Who are you?"
"Name's Brook Lynn Rivers," she thrust her hand in to his face. Spot blinked, simply staring the pale hand in front of him.
Quickly clearing his throat, he swatted away her hand. "Excuse me?"
"Brook, Lynn, Rivers," She explained slowly, drawing out each syllable.
Spot grinned in spite of himself, 'sheathing' his cane, and crossing his arms. "Well, Brook," he started, "what are you doing here?"
Brook raised an eye-brow, "Who the hell are you? A cop?" She asked, giving him the equivalent of the elevator look.
Spot quickly lost his grin, "Watch it Hun." Brook resisted the urge to smack him, and listened to the little common sense she had.
"Whatever you say," She snorted, and turned to the edge of the wooden platform. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm getting down… one way…or another." She grabbed the edge, flipping herself off, and landing with a thunk on the docks.
Mouthing curses about her now aching legs, she gave herself a mental note to never do that again.
"You never answered my question," a voice called from above her, Brook looked up at Spot, and shaded her eyes from the sun.
"Which was?" she asked.
"What are you doing here?" he reminded her with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
Brook thought about it for a minute. "Well, right now I'm looking for somewhere to stay. Now bugger off." She replied, turned on her heel, and walked down the docks.
Feeling a soft tap on her shoulder, she turned, to find herself facing a chest covered with a dirty t-shirt. Looking up, she faced a boy wearing a woolen hat, she assumed was a Newsie.
"Are you nuts?" he asked bluntly. Brook blinked for a moment, and replied unhurriedly.
"Technically yes, but that's beside the point, why?" she smiled.
The boy pointed towards the docks she had almost left. "You just insulted one of the most dangerous boys in New York." He told her in disbelief. "You must be crazy." He insisted, shaking his head at her.
Brook shrugged, "If he has a problem he'll talk to me." She walked away from him, and almost felt the murmurs of crazy British wenches.
They'll come around, Brook recognized the voice as her brother's and smiled.
I'm sure they will Bro, I'm sure they will.