The week went harshly by, and no matter how hard the two girls tried, they were not let out of the room, nor were they told why everyone around them lost their air of confidence and began acting nervously. Finally, the two were well enough and fed up with being stuck in the Infirmary. Bitter crossed her arms defiantly. "Spot, if ya don't unlock dis door, so help me Gawd, I will break it down!" she yelled through the door. She could just imagine him sitting on the other side of it, shaking his head in disagreement.
Whiskey nodded at her from where she sat, her ribs still a bit tender. Bitter braced herself and started kicking the door. Now, one would think that anyone smart enough would just pick the lock, but see, Bitter knew that Spot had her figured out, so she had to have a diversion. While she was lightly kicking the door, or rather, lightly for her, she was working diligently on unlocking the lock.
Whiskey watched Bitter's process amused, throwing in a few kicks when the urge struck her. Sure enough, the kicking stopped and the girls could hear Spot call out from the other side. "I told ya ya couldn't knock it down," he said.
Bitter smirked, her green eyes getting a dangerous glint in them as she slowly twisted the knob, and then shoved the door out. Whiskey laughed as she heard a cry from the other side of the door. Sure enough, the voice belonged to Spot and Bitter was bent over him, snickering and trying to look worried at the same time.
"I hate ta interrupt ya, but as amusing as watching the leadah a Brooklyn lyin' flat on his ass, I'se anxious ta see what's happenin' heah," Whiskey said, tapping Bitter on the back.
Bitter straightened up, smiling and waving at Spot as they left the hallway and went to inspect the lodging house. Every thing seemed pretty normal until they got up to the bunkroom. Whiskey flung open the boys' bunkroom door and both girls stood shocked at the sight that lay before them.
There were at least five different boys that were soaked horribly, each attended by a different person. It was an unprecedented sight for the Brooklyn Lodging House and both girls' jaws dropped at the sight.
"Airight Spot, you'se got a lotta explainin' ta do," Bitter stated as Spot walked into the room behind the two. Whiskey eyed the two expectantly as Spot straightened up and looked Bitter straight in the eye. She had seen the two fight before, and it was never a pretty sight.
"You can probably figure it out foh yerself. Dese boys look a lot like you an' Whiskey a week back, don't dey?" Spot asked, a cold edge to his voice as he faced off against Bitter.
"Don't be gettin' smart wit me! You'se in enough shit as it is, lockin' up two a yer best fightahs foh a week. Second day in an' we was healed enough ta get back out dere!" Bitter stated, closing the distance between her and Spot.
Spot growled a whisper. "You could barely stay conscious let alone face off against da same fuckahs dat put you in dat bed."
By now every face in the room had been turned in their direction, eager and a bit apprehensive about what would go down between the two. The fights between Bitter and Spot were legendary among the Brooklyn newsies. Nobody would even dare attempt breaking up the two after they got into it, and the only person who could keep them from killing each other at times was Whiskey, who surprisingly played the 'voice of reason' while the two fought.
"Maybe we should take dis somewheah else," Spot stated, glaring at Bitter's defiance.
"Anythin' you'se got ta say can be said in fronta da people who are layin' heah, busted up an' bruised on yer behalf," Bitter countered with a smirk.
"Wouldn't want da morale a da troops ta drop now would we?" Spot stated with finality, exiting into the adjacent, closet sized area that served as his personal room. Bitter followed silent and disgruntled. As soon as the door shut all of the newsies let out the collective breath they had been holding, relieved that the two would work it out behind closed doors. Whiskey however was even more apprehensive now that the two had taken it behind closed doors, especially when the heated whispers exchanged between the two grew into a full out screaming contest.
"Christ, dey're gonna kill each udder," Whiskey stated grimly, cringing as she heard a huge crash and something that sounded like glass breaking. "Damnit! They ain't gonna have any furniture left in dere by the time those two are through..."
With a final crash, Bitter came storming out of the room, Spot nowhere in sight. Crossing quickly across the room, she harshly grabbed Whiskey's arm and dragged her out of the room and down the stairs to the street. Whiskey complacently followed her friend, knowing that Bitter would explain everything to her as soon as they'd put enough space between them and the lodging house.
After five minutes of running through winding back streets, Bitter slowed. "So, you gonna tell me just what da hell you did back dere? I didn't see Spot runnin' out afta ya..." Whiskey trailed off, flashing Bitter a slight glare at the shit she knew they had just gotten themselves into.
"Spot was bein' a controllin' bastad, things escalated, I broke dat vase I gave him ovah his head and high tailed it outta dere," Bitter explained calmly.
"Holy shit!" Whiskey stated, a fit of hilarity taking her as she tried to keep a straight face at the news. "So, uh, what are we doin' now? We off ta single handedly stop Harlem from their reign a terror?"
"Hmm, I didn' really have a plan in mind at da time...but dat don't sound too bad," Bitter stated, contemplating Whiskey's suggestion. "Afta all, we both owe dat sonnova bitch some payback..."
Whiskey's whole face lit up at Bitter suddenly agreeing to her suggestion. "Well den what da hell are we standin' around heah foh, lets formulate some kinda plan an soak dat fucker! Maybe if we get ta Manhatten quick enough we can enlist da help of me main man Specs. He ain't dat good wit a knife, but he's one helluva good fistfightah!"
Bitter smirked, "I dunno Whiskey, I ain't in de mood to see anuddah guy unless I'se punchin' 'is face in," Bitter said, reluctant to involve any guys at all.
Whiskey frowned, "Well, we need back up me dear," she stated as they neared the edge of Brooklyn.
Bitter stopped suddenly, a wide smirk crossing her face. "What about our girls?" she asked, with an eyebrow raised.
Whiskey laughed, "Ya got an idea there," she said, thinking about the tough Brooklyn girls. "Jist wheah would we find dem, dey weren't at the lh," Whiskey said after some thought.
Bitter looked at her crazily. "Oh, c'mon, you know very well wheah dey are, de bar, hello, what else would dey be doin' at dis hour?" she stated, grabbing Whiskey's arm and heading towards the local bar.
Whiskey stepped through the haze of smoke that permeated the air, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Even compared to the few streetlights on the dark street outside, the bar was still dimly lit.
"Well wouldja look at dat!" Whiskey stated, pointing at a couple secluded in a dark corner of the bar. Bitter's eyes narrowed as she tried to make out who the two figures were and why Whiskey was so worked up over seeing them.
"Dat's Needle an' Doc! And dey're both talkin'!" Whiskey stated, an amused and surprised look crossing her face. "Never thought I'd live to see da day dat Needle willingly carried on a conversation wit another person!"
"Yeah, good fer dem," Bitter stated.
"Now promise me dat whole 'I hate men' thing ain't gonna apply ta our Needle ovah dere, because I might have to restrain ya from hittin' him, he healed your arm after all..." Whiskey stated, trailing off as the corner of Bitter's mouth turned down in a frown as she watched the petite figure of Doc as she held hands Needle, who looked happier than he had been the entire time Whiskey had been at the lh.
"Yeah, yeah, let's just look for da goils. I ain't interested in beatin' Needle...feel like I'd break 'im or somethin' wit just one blow," Bitter said with smirk, leading Whiskey, who was still grinning like an idiot, to the other side of the bar. Two girls' were staring each other down from across the table. Both with matching looks of determination that was due more to the liquor they had already consumed than actual courage, they had already begun drinking and were in a feel-no-pain state as each lit a match and let it slowly burn down to their fingertips, seeing who would drop it first.
"Well, well, well, if it idn't my favorite little pyros at work!" Bitter stated pulling up a chair and watching the two sweat it out as the match burnt closer and closer to their finger tips. Before either of them could be declared the winner Whiskey walked up to the table, made a big scene of overdramatically licking the index and thumb on both her hands and snuffing out the two matches, much to their disappointment.
"What da hell'd ya do dat foh?!" the grey eyed girl with short curly black hair yelled indignantly as she downed the rest of her beer in one gulp.
"Yeah, Fade an' me was in da middle a somethin' Whisk!" the fiery auburn haired girl stated lividly, rising to her feet and looking Whiskey straight in the eye.
"Problem 'ladies'?" a masculine joked.
"Fuck off Skittery...dis is between Whiskey an' me!" Pyro stated as she watched her boyfriend, Skittery step out of his place in the shadows, his trademark scowl plastered across his face.
Whiskey tried to control the fit of hilarity that hit her. "No. Dis is between Bittah an' me, an' all of you'se!" she stated genially, putting a hand on Pyro's shoulder companionably and pressing her back into her chair.
"Now, Bittah an' I has got a little proposition for yas!" she stated excited, looking around at who was present. "Skittery, go away. And take Dutchy dere wit ya! Wait, would ya tell Specs something for me?" she asked, leaning in close and whispering the message into his ear. Skittery shot Whiskey a confused, skeptical look.
"No problem, I don't even want to know what you'se are plannin'," he stated with a scowl, shaking his head and pulling Dutchy away from the lap of Winter, who was looking quite disgruntled her brown eyes flashing angrily.
"Aw, don't get all bent outa shape on me! Anyone else heah besides you three?" Whiskey asked.
"Yeah. Doc an' Needle are ovah in da corner. Spades and Blue are occupying the more, uh, dimly lit corner on da opposite side a da room, an Rook's drinkin' alone at da bar," Winter said, pointing out each set of people in turn.
"Shit. Blue is heah?" Bitter asked, trying to spot him without being seen. "Alright, dis is gonna take a little more tact than I thought at first. Spades would be a nice edition...but I ain't gonna risk nothin' wit Blue ovah dere, he's Spot's right hand man afta all, and we stompin' all ovah Spot's authority heah."
Whiskey snickered softly, "So, dat means we goin' widout Spades?" she asked, looking over the situation. Bitter sized up the situation while Whiskey took care of dragging Rook out of her solemn corner of the bar.
"I got a plan," Bitter said suddenly. "Whiskey, Spades' still has dat ol' apartment buildin' she uses every once in a while, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," Whiskey said, not understanding where Bitter was going to go with it. Before she could ask, Bitter was already running off to the couple's booth. While walking there, she grabbed a beer from the bar, ruffled up her hair, tore her sleeve and bit down hard on her lip to make it bleed to make the scene go smoother. As she neared the booth, she began a little stagger, and was pleased to see that she had the couple's full attention.
Bitter almost could not hold back a laugh as she saw Blue's worried expression on his face and knew the plan was going to work like a charm. "Mind if I sit?" she asked.
They both shook their heads, stunned, and she took a seat across from the pair. She smiled drunkenly at the shocked newsies and stared at them. "What, do I got a boogah hangin' from me nose?" she asked. Spades tapped Blue's hand as he opened his mouth to speak and gave him a look. "Bittah, ya ok, I mean, what happened?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
Bitter laughed, "Oh, I see, I don't look dat beat up? Do I? Well, me an' Spot got in a fight again, I saw all de boys hoit an' well, we had a little talk. Dat's why I came ovah heah, I uh, I was wonderin' if I could stay in dat apartment ya have fer a night. I kinda well, I broke a vase over Spot's head an' well I don't think he'll be too happy when he regains consciousness," she said with a nervous glance towards the door.
Even for it being a dark corner, Bitter could see Blue's eyes bulge and the edges of his lips twitch. Spades felt it too and shoved him knowingly. Blue apologized quickly and left. Bitter watched him leave, ignoring whatever Spades was trying to tell her at the moment.
Once gone, Bitter let out a deep sigh of relief. "Airight, I'm fine, stop yer jabberin', ya know I woulda nevah distoibed ya unless it was important," she said, shutting Spades up. Her hazel eyes frowned at Bitter, as she had just interrupted her night of romance. "Airight, well, you know what happened ta me an' Whiskey, well, we've decided to take things into our own hands an' well, I thought we'd need ya fer our lil' rumble in Harlem tanight," she said with a devious smirk crossing her face.
Spades shook her head. "Fine, you know me, I'm in. Jist lemme finish me beer," she stated. She could not help but grin at the excitement of getting Harlem back for all the trouble they had been causing lately. Bitter crossed her arms impatiently and waited for her to gulp down the drink. As she took the last sip, Bitter dragged her up by the arm and pulled her towards the waiting girls, who were watching Whiskey talk to Doc.
Bitter pushed them all out towards the door and waited for Whiskey and Doc. Doc went past them, a little bit mad to be disturbed on her evening off, but still in good spirits as the others were. "So what's de plan?" Bitter asked Whiskey as they walked towards the bar door.
"Well, Doc's gonna pretend like she's gonna treat someone, we'll ambush, den soak 'em, an' den off ta Manhattan," she said, enthusiastic about the last part.
Bitter groaned out loud. "Whiskey, ya know me an' Jack hate each other, ever since I soaked dat damn Sarah goil," she said, whining a little.
"Yeah, well I'se on decent terms wit da bastad, so we'll jist sneak ya in da back, because gettin' unda dat bastard's skin is one a me favorite past times!" Whiskey said with a wicked grin, pushing the door open.
Bitter shook her head. "Ya love me, don't cha?" she muttered under her breath, a small smirk on her face.
"Wait a second!" Pyro said drunkenly, her face full with excitement as she and Fade ran off towards the bartender, leaving the rest of the group dumbstruck with the door ajar. As Fade distracted him flirtatiously, Pyro proceeded to steal a large bottle of liquor off of the shelf, hiding it to the side of her as she calmly exited the bar, Fade following a minute or so after.
"I don' know why da hell you need dat Pyro, but it bettah be foh more den hittin' someone ovah da head wit!" Spades stated with a laugh as she lit up a cigarette.
"Be careful, dese boys are knife fighters, an' well, if ya get in trouble, get de hell
outta dere, I don't want any deaths, fatal injuries, an' I definitely don't wanna be carryin' anyone outta dat hellhole," Whiskey stated to the anxious girls. All of the girls rolled their eyes and threw in some comments about whose corpses were gonna be found tonight as they started on their journey to Harlem.
~ ~ ~