"So, it's a woman thing..." Timmy pressed her. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.
"No, its not a woman, thing." Sadie was getting noticably pissed. So she swallowed the rest of her drink and waited for the numbness to set in. "So ya gonna buy the lady a drink if'n ya insist on forcin' yerself inta `er personal space?"
"Well, since ya ast. I never want to disappoint a lady," he answered and turned towards the bar. "Especially at that time of the month..." he muttered and held up her empty glass. "Can I get another one of these?" he asked the bartender.
"What was that ya said?"
"I ast fer anoda drink."
"No, afore that."
"I said I dint want ta disappoint a the most stunning woman I've eva seen." Timmy overcompensated. He gave her his best puppydog look, fluttering his sparkling blue eyes at her.
"Ya know, yer really not handsome enough to get away wit' lying like `at."
"And yer attitude isn't worth me lie! Bartender, bring me a quart!"
"Yer the one who `might be able to `elp me'" she mocked
"I've changed me mind," he pouted. "I don't t'ink I wanna `elp ya now." He took a sip of his beer and pretending to not be interested anymore.
"Fine wit' me," Sadie commented and down her second drink.
"Fine."
Together they sat at the table in the center of the dark pub, just fuming. For some time, they just sat, avoiding eye contact with each other. Timmy drew pictures in the sweat of his beer mug. Sadie ordered two more drinks. Then the numbness set in. And the paranoia. She nervously looked around for her satchel, and upon finding it, held it tightly to her waist. Every few seconds, she let go with one hand to wipe the imagined drool from her chin. One of her biggest fears was to have drool spilling from her chin like a baby. Man! She knew better than to drink that quickly. She wiped her chin again.
"What're ya doin'?" Timmy asked as she ran her hand across her face for the fifth time in a minute.
"Nothin', why are ye sittin' `ere?"
"Damn it woman! What's wrong wit' ye?" he yelled. Once again, the pub went silent. "Will ye people start talking before I..." Nervous chatter abruptly began again.
Sadie looked at him. He looked so frustrated, yet he still sat here next to her. Why did he care? She wiped her chin. But he certainly did have something... "I got fired because I didn't give me all," she said finally using her hands to accentuate exactly what she meant by "her all."
"Ooooh," Timmy seemed surprised. Probably at her boldness to claim such a thing she guessed. "So, it's settled then." He sat back, seeming more relaxed. "You will have yerself and yer t'ings sent to me mother's house. And ya can stay there until we can settle t'ings wit' yer boss..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Timmy just lived for these moments. He was what you'd call the brains of the outfit. And he adored schemes more than money or sex. But even more than schemes, he treasured vengence. It was his hobby to bring down those bastards who thought themselves above the law. Members of the Mannigan family made the laws in this town. And those bastards were not above his law.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Timmy Michelson invited her to meet his friends and eat dinner with them. Sadie hadn't eaten since the count had her thrown out, so she eagerly accepted. And he'd given her a safe place to stay. A Godsend he was!
His friends all had stupid names. Like pet names, she could have sworn one of their names was Spot...
Timmy was clearly the brightest in the group. That Spot guy seemed pretty clever too, but more like a weasel - clever. The quiet red-head might be retarded she thought. The last three were plainly all-brawn-no-brains types.
"So I'll be headin' to Manhattan to speak wit' me associate," the Spot fellow said. "Me boy Mush'll take care a it," he said while he took a bite of food.
Mush! He knows Mush! How many Mush's can there be?
They finished their meals and the group broke up. Some had wives, other business to attend to (something about a barber), but when Spot left, Sadie made her excuses as well - to pick up her things--and to follow Spot.
"No, its not a woman, thing." Sadie was getting noticably pissed. So she swallowed the rest of her drink and waited for the numbness to set in. "So ya gonna buy the lady a drink if'n ya insist on forcin' yerself inta `er personal space?"
"Well, since ya ast. I never want to disappoint a lady," he answered and turned towards the bar. "Especially at that time of the month..." he muttered and held up her empty glass. "Can I get another one of these?" he asked the bartender.
"What was that ya said?"
"I ast fer anoda drink."
"No, afore that."
"I said I dint want ta disappoint a the most stunning woman I've eva seen." Timmy overcompensated. He gave her his best puppydog look, fluttering his sparkling blue eyes at her.
"Ya know, yer really not handsome enough to get away wit' lying like `at."
"And yer attitude isn't worth me lie! Bartender, bring me a quart!"
"Yer the one who `might be able to `elp me'" she mocked
"I've changed me mind," he pouted. "I don't t'ink I wanna `elp ya now." He took a sip of his beer and pretending to not be interested anymore.
"Fine wit' me," Sadie commented and down her second drink.
"Fine."
Together they sat at the table in the center of the dark pub, just fuming. For some time, they just sat, avoiding eye contact with each other. Timmy drew pictures in the sweat of his beer mug. Sadie ordered two more drinks. Then the numbness set in. And the paranoia. She nervously looked around for her satchel, and upon finding it, held it tightly to her waist. Every few seconds, she let go with one hand to wipe the imagined drool from her chin. One of her biggest fears was to have drool spilling from her chin like a baby. Man! She knew better than to drink that quickly. She wiped her chin again.
"What're ya doin'?" Timmy asked as she ran her hand across her face for the fifth time in a minute.
"Nothin', why are ye sittin' `ere?"
"Damn it woman! What's wrong wit' ye?" he yelled. Once again, the pub went silent. "Will ye people start talking before I..." Nervous chatter abruptly began again.
Sadie looked at him. He looked so frustrated, yet he still sat here next to her. Why did he care? She wiped her chin. But he certainly did have something... "I got fired because I didn't give me all," she said finally using her hands to accentuate exactly what she meant by "her all."
"Ooooh," Timmy seemed surprised. Probably at her boldness to claim such a thing she guessed. "So, it's settled then." He sat back, seeming more relaxed. "You will have yerself and yer t'ings sent to me mother's house. And ya can stay there until we can settle t'ings wit' yer boss..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Timmy just lived for these moments. He was what you'd call the brains of the outfit. And he adored schemes more than money or sex. But even more than schemes, he treasured vengence. It was his hobby to bring down those bastards who thought themselves above the law. Members of the Mannigan family made the laws in this town. And those bastards were not above his law.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Timmy Michelson invited her to meet his friends and eat dinner with them. Sadie hadn't eaten since the count had her thrown out, so she eagerly accepted. And he'd given her a safe place to stay. A Godsend he was!
His friends all had stupid names. Like pet names, she could have sworn one of their names was Spot...
Timmy was clearly the brightest in the group. That Spot guy seemed pretty clever too, but more like a weasel - clever. The quiet red-head might be retarded she thought. The last three were plainly all-brawn-no-brains types.
"So I'll be headin' to Manhattan to speak wit' me associate," the Spot fellow said. "Me boy Mush'll take care a it," he said while he took a bite of food.
Mush! He knows Mush! How many Mush's can there be?
They finished their meals and the group broke up. Some had wives, other business to attend to (something about a barber), but when Spot left, Sadie made her excuses as well - to pick up her things--and to follow Spot.