Writer note: Thank you Kora and Stage for your reviews!!! I have discovered the fun of this fic again!
Part 3: Watch Out, They're Right Behind You
"Are they gone?" Delilah whispered, from the bathroom.
"Yeah" Tilda replied, popping her head in the door. "Just a few minutes ago."
Delilah nodded, and slipped on her right, blue stocking. "Good. We'll be back before they know we were gone. Go get the basket ready."
"All right." Tilda grinned anxiously then headed off to the small kitchen to pack the little, wicker basket that was theirs as children. It was a wonder that it was still there and not sold or thrown away. Delilah finished dressing, and they were off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The streets weren't at all busy yet; rather empty as they walked to The World Distribution Office. Tilda swung the basket wildly, almost throwing out the contents, and skipping like a five year old. Delilah stared at her, strangely.
"Tilda, what the heck are you doing???"
"Lalala!" Tilda sang. "I'm acting like I was when I was little. No one is really around to see it, so why not."
Delilah just looked away, and pretended not to know her. The two stopped short when they came across a sea of boys waiting near a gate.
Tilda gaped. "How are we suppose to find Dutchy and - what's his name? Slithery..."
"Skittery" her sister corrected.
"Yeah, him too. How are we suppose to find them in this crowd? There's a trillion boys here!"
The gate opened, letting the newsboys weed out and get in line - making it easier for the sisters to find their reasons for being there.
"There's Dutchy and that beaver toothed kid" Tilda said, pointing up ahead. She veered off to talk to them.
"Tilda, wait!" Delilah called, turning to follow her.
"Dutchy" Tilda called, walking up to him. Him and Snitch turned around from talking.
"Good morning, Miss Tilda" Dutchy greeted, tipping his hat. Snitch rolled his eyes.
"Awww" Tilda cooed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Bet you didn't expect to see us again."
"That was on my pray list last night" Snitch mumbled.
"Hi boys. Where's Skittery?" Delilah asked as she casually joined them.
"I'm right here" Skittery's voice flowed from a short ways up in the line. Delilah peered around in search of him, but couldn't find him. "Delilah, I'm right here."
She watched the tall boy push his way to where they were. He was wearing a shirt and vest, unlike the night before. "Oh, no wonder I couldn't find you; you're wearing clothes today!"
Every newsboy who was in earshot snapped their heads to look at them. "She didn't mean it like that!" Skittery shouted. "Get your brains out of the gutters and mind your own business!" That seemed to do the trick. "So, what you goils doing heah?"
"Do we really have to answer that?" Delilah said. "We come to see you two idiots! And, we brought you something special." The newsboys in earshot snapped their heads around to stare at them again. Delilah heaved. "Will you stop doing that! It's not what you think. Tilda give it to them."
Tilda grinned, and opened the lid of the basket. "We brought you breakfast."
"Hey, thanks" Skittery said, reaching in to grab an apple.
Dutchy smiled, who also grabbed an apple. "This is awfully nice of you. It's better than the moldy bread the nuns give us."
"Yeah, just don't get use to it" Delilah remarked. "It's not everyday we do good things."
"You can say that again" Snitch retorted.
Tilda turned to him, and said, "You, Mr. Beaver, don't get anything. So, ha!"
Snitch shrugged, folding his arms. "Probably poisoned food anyway."
Skittery elbowed him. "Will you stop harpin' on them." Then he took a bite of his apple.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Thirty papes for David!" Weasel called. Oscar threw a stack of newspapers on the counter, and shot an intimidating look at David. David just ignored them, going about his way. Oscar shrugged and was about to go to the back again when he spotted them.
"Uncle, that's Delilah and Tilda!" he said, pointing to the line.
Weasel looked out. "That's is them! I told them -not- to leave the apartment!"
"What's going on?" Morris asked, joining them.
"It's our sisters!" Oscar answered, showing him where to look. "And, they talkin' to those lousy newsies!"
"That's it!" Weasel grunted, banging his hand on the counter and completely ignoring the next person in line. "Take them home and make sure they don't leave again!"
Oscar and Morris stomped out the D.O. door at Weasel's order.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Delancey sisters would of never expected their brothers had a connection the newsies. Their brothers were the last things on their minds as they chit-chatted with their new found friends.
An iron grip latched onto Delilah's arm, and spun her around violently. Her eyes swelled as big as saucers at the sight of Morris. "Uh oh."
"What the heck are you doing away from the apartment and talkin' to these newsies???" Morris yelled, shaking her to enhance his anger.
"Hey, let her go!" Skittery demanded, stepping up to help Delilah. Morris held out a fist.
"Stay away from her, street trash." Daggers shot from Morris's eyes, making his point to stay away very clearly.
"Your comin' home with us right now" Oscar said, dangerously. He grasped Tilda's arm, trying to tug her away.
"We don't wanna go with you!" Tilda shouted.
Dutchy, quiet and confused, watched the situation unfold. "What's going on?" He stepped up - wanting to help Tilda too - but Oscar was ready for a fight.
"These are our sisters and we don't want 'em around the likes of you" Oscar answered.
"You're Delanceys???" Skittery asked in shock, holding a hand to his forehead.
Delilah winced and shrugged, or at least made some kind of gesture representing a shrug. Morris's hand was squeezing the daylights out of her arm. "Yeah. Didn't think that would be a problem."
Morris snarled. "We're leaving. Now." He drug Delilah out the D.O. gates, followed by Oscar with Tilda. Skittery and Dutchy watched, stunned, as they disappeared around the corner.
Snitch laughed, amused at the entire situation. "Well, isn't that a fine how-do-you-do."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tilda and Delilah, most of the time, willingly were dragged by their brothers back to their apartment. Oscar had the bright idea of how to keep them there: lock them in the single closet of the apartment. Light turned into darkness as the sisters were pushed into the closet and the door shut on them.
"You can't keep us in here all day!" Tilda shouted, pounding on door.
"Yes, we can!" they heard Morris yelled back before the noise of the front door slamming.
Delilah heaved, sliding down to the floor against the wall.
"This is just great" Tilda complained, joining her on the floor.
The closet was only about three by two feet - not very big at all, so it was kind of a scrunched fit. Delilah rubbed the area of her arm where Morris had held her. She'd never seen him -that- angry before; he had never been -that- vicious either with her.
"I would like to know what gives them the right to treat us like flea-bitten dogs in the street!" Tilda continued, making wild gestures in frustration.
"Maybe we pushed too far" Delilah murmured, grimly. Her sensitive was seeping out ever-so slowly.
Tilda turned her head to look at her sister. Even though it was almost completely dark in the closet, a thin stream of light shone in from under the door. "What??? Us go to far??? Burning down the factory was going too far!"
"Oh, HUSH, Tilda!" Delilah growled. Tilda became silent, taken aback by her sister's out burst. The silence lasted a few minutes until Delilah broke it. "So they work at The World Distribution Office. How ironic, our newsboy pals pick up their newspapers there."
Tilda nodded. "I'm guessing our newsboy pals aren't gonna want to be around us anymore. You heard how Slithery..."
"Skittery" Delilah corrected again.
"Same thing. You heard how he said "You're Delanceys?!"."
Delilah rolled her eyes. "He was shocked, I'm assuming." Although, she didn't believe her own claim. "If they have a problem with us being Delanceys, then we shouldn't be around them anyway."
Just then, bright sunlight flooded the small closet. The sisters shielded their eyes, knowing it had to be their Uncle or brothers there to rip into them.
"Hey ladies" Skittery greeted. "Need a lift up?" He offered a hand to Delilah; in turn, Dutchy offered a hand to Tilda.
"We thought you would rather spend your day out here in the land of the living" Dutchy quipped.
Tilda snorted, taking his hand. "Naw, we'd rather be locked in this hellhole all day."
Delilah frowned up at Skittery, who was still holding his hand out for her. "You gonna take it?" he asked.
"Do you want me to take it?" she retorted, testing him.
"I wouldn't be holding my hand out if I didn't" he replied, with a slight sarcastic tone.
That was good enough for Delilah. She finally excepted his offer, and he pulled her swiftly to her feet.
"So, this is where Weasel and the Delanceys live..." Dutchy said, looking around at the filthy surroundings.
"Can't ya tell? It's stinks" Skittery remarked with a laugh. Then he remembered who Delilah and Tilda were. "Oh, sorry if that offended you." He sheepishly grinned. "Habit."
Tilda shook her head. "Why apologize when you're just telling the truth."
"Don't worry," Delilah started, folding her arms. "We know our Uncle and brothers are disgusting slobs, and are not afraid to say it. Basically, nothing about them can offend us."
Dutchy looked around the room spotting a photograph on a shelf. In the photo were two young boys and two young girls with rotten expressions on their faces. "Is that you two, and Oscar and Morris?"
"Yeah" Delilah answered, sadly.
"I'm surprised that photo is still there" Tilda said. "We took that right before Mama died."
Delilah could see it on their faces; they were about to ask questions. "I don't think it's a good for us to be here when our Uncle or brothers could walk in at anytime. Maybe we should go someplace else."
"Good idea" Skittery agreed.
"Hey, don't you two have newspapers to sell?" Tilda asked.
"Not today" Dutchy replied. "We can hold off selling for one day."
"Besides," Skittery started, smirking at Delilah. "You can buy us lunch with all that money you won last night."
"Gee, didn't think I'd become the provider of this group" she laughed, gesturing towards the window that hosted the fire escape. "Let's blow this joint."
Part 3: Watch Out, They're Right Behind You
"Are they gone?" Delilah whispered, from the bathroom.
"Yeah" Tilda replied, popping her head in the door. "Just a few minutes ago."
Delilah nodded, and slipped on her right, blue stocking. "Good. We'll be back before they know we were gone. Go get the basket ready."
"All right." Tilda grinned anxiously then headed off to the small kitchen to pack the little, wicker basket that was theirs as children. It was a wonder that it was still there and not sold or thrown away. Delilah finished dressing, and they were off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The streets weren't at all busy yet; rather empty as they walked to The World Distribution Office. Tilda swung the basket wildly, almost throwing out the contents, and skipping like a five year old. Delilah stared at her, strangely.
"Tilda, what the heck are you doing???"
"Lalala!" Tilda sang. "I'm acting like I was when I was little. No one is really around to see it, so why not."
Delilah just looked away, and pretended not to know her. The two stopped short when they came across a sea of boys waiting near a gate.
Tilda gaped. "How are we suppose to find Dutchy and - what's his name? Slithery..."
"Skittery" her sister corrected.
"Yeah, him too. How are we suppose to find them in this crowd? There's a trillion boys here!"
The gate opened, letting the newsboys weed out and get in line - making it easier for the sisters to find their reasons for being there.
"There's Dutchy and that beaver toothed kid" Tilda said, pointing up ahead. She veered off to talk to them.
"Tilda, wait!" Delilah called, turning to follow her.
"Dutchy" Tilda called, walking up to him. Him and Snitch turned around from talking.
"Good morning, Miss Tilda" Dutchy greeted, tipping his hat. Snitch rolled his eyes.
"Awww" Tilda cooed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Bet you didn't expect to see us again."
"That was on my pray list last night" Snitch mumbled.
"Hi boys. Where's Skittery?" Delilah asked as she casually joined them.
"I'm right here" Skittery's voice flowed from a short ways up in the line. Delilah peered around in search of him, but couldn't find him. "Delilah, I'm right here."
She watched the tall boy push his way to where they were. He was wearing a shirt and vest, unlike the night before. "Oh, no wonder I couldn't find you; you're wearing clothes today!"
Every newsboy who was in earshot snapped their heads to look at them. "She didn't mean it like that!" Skittery shouted. "Get your brains out of the gutters and mind your own business!" That seemed to do the trick. "So, what you goils doing heah?"
"Do we really have to answer that?" Delilah said. "We come to see you two idiots! And, we brought you something special." The newsboys in earshot snapped their heads around to stare at them again. Delilah heaved. "Will you stop doing that! It's not what you think. Tilda give it to them."
Tilda grinned, and opened the lid of the basket. "We brought you breakfast."
"Hey, thanks" Skittery said, reaching in to grab an apple.
Dutchy smiled, who also grabbed an apple. "This is awfully nice of you. It's better than the moldy bread the nuns give us."
"Yeah, just don't get use to it" Delilah remarked. "It's not everyday we do good things."
"You can say that again" Snitch retorted.
Tilda turned to him, and said, "You, Mr. Beaver, don't get anything. So, ha!"
Snitch shrugged, folding his arms. "Probably poisoned food anyway."
Skittery elbowed him. "Will you stop harpin' on them." Then he took a bite of his apple.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Thirty papes for David!" Weasel called. Oscar threw a stack of newspapers on the counter, and shot an intimidating look at David. David just ignored them, going about his way. Oscar shrugged and was about to go to the back again when he spotted them.
"Uncle, that's Delilah and Tilda!" he said, pointing to the line.
Weasel looked out. "That's is them! I told them -not- to leave the apartment!"
"What's going on?" Morris asked, joining them.
"It's our sisters!" Oscar answered, showing him where to look. "And, they talkin' to those lousy newsies!"
"That's it!" Weasel grunted, banging his hand on the counter and completely ignoring the next person in line. "Take them home and make sure they don't leave again!"
Oscar and Morris stomped out the D.O. door at Weasel's order.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Delancey sisters would of never expected their brothers had a connection the newsies. Their brothers were the last things on their minds as they chit-chatted with their new found friends.
An iron grip latched onto Delilah's arm, and spun her around violently. Her eyes swelled as big as saucers at the sight of Morris. "Uh oh."
"What the heck are you doing away from the apartment and talkin' to these newsies???" Morris yelled, shaking her to enhance his anger.
"Hey, let her go!" Skittery demanded, stepping up to help Delilah. Morris held out a fist.
"Stay away from her, street trash." Daggers shot from Morris's eyes, making his point to stay away very clearly.
"Your comin' home with us right now" Oscar said, dangerously. He grasped Tilda's arm, trying to tug her away.
"We don't wanna go with you!" Tilda shouted.
Dutchy, quiet and confused, watched the situation unfold. "What's going on?" He stepped up - wanting to help Tilda too - but Oscar was ready for a fight.
"These are our sisters and we don't want 'em around the likes of you" Oscar answered.
"You're Delanceys???" Skittery asked in shock, holding a hand to his forehead.
Delilah winced and shrugged, or at least made some kind of gesture representing a shrug. Morris's hand was squeezing the daylights out of her arm. "Yeah. Didn't think that would be a problem."
Morris snarled. "We're leaving. Now." He drug Delilah out the D.O. gates, followed by Oscar with Tilda. Skittery and Dutchy watched, stunned, as they disappeared around the corner.
Snitch laughed, amused at the entire situation. "Well, isn't that a fine how-do-you-do."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tilda and Delilah, most of the time, willingly were dragged by their brothers back to their apartment. Oscar had the bright idea of how to keep them there: lock them in the single closet of the apartment. Light turned into darkness as the sisters were pushed into the closet and the door shut on them.
"You can't keep us in here all day!" Tilda shouted, pounding on door.
"Yes, we can!" they heard Morris yelled back before the noise of the front door slamming.
Delilah heaved, sliding down to the floor against the wall.
"This is just great" Tilda complained, joining her on the floor.
The closet was only about three by two feet - not very big at all, so it was kind of a scrunched fit. Delilah rubbed the area of her arm where Morris had held her. She'd never seen him -that- angry before; he had never been -that- vicious either with her.
"I would like to know what gives them the right to treat us like flea-bitten dogs in the street!" Tilda continued, making wild gestures in frustration.
"Maybe we pushed too far" Delilah murmured, grimly. Her sensitive was seeping out ever-so slowly.
Tilda turned her head to look at her sister. Even though it was almost completely dark in the closet, a thin stream of light shone in from under the door. "What??? Us go to far??? Burning down the factory was going too far!"
"Oh, HUSH, Tilda!" Delilah growled. Tilda became silent, taken aback by her sister's out burst. The silence lasted a few minutes until Delilah broke it. "So they work at The World Distribution Office. How ironic, our newsboy pals pick up their newspapers there."
Tilda nodded. "I'm guessing our newsboy pals aren't gonna want to be around us anymore. You heard how Slithery..."
"Skittery" Delilah corrected again.
"Same thing. You heard how he said "You're Delanceys?!"."
Delilah rolled her eyes. "He was shocked, I'm assuming." Although, she didn't believe her own claim. "If they have a problem with us being Delanceys, then we shouldn't be around them anyway."
Just then, bright sunlight flooded the small closet. The sisters shielded their eyes, knowing it had to be their Uncle or brothers there to rip into them.
"Hey ladies" Skittery greeted. "Need a lift up?" He offered a hand to Delilah; in turn, Dutchy offered a hand to Tilda.
"We thought you would rather spend your day out here in the land of the living" Dutchy quipped.
Tilda snorted, taking his hand. "Naw, we'd rather be locked in this hellhole all day."
Delilah frowned up at Skittery, who was still holding his hand out for her. "You gonna take it?" he asked.
"Do you want me to take it?" she retorted, testing him.
"I wouldn't be holding my hand out if I didn't" he replied, with a slight sarcastic tone.
That was good enough for Delilah. She finally excepted his offer, and he pulled her swiftly to her feet.
"So, this is where Weasel and the Delanceys live..." Dutchy said, looking around at the filthy surroundings.
"Can't ya tell? It's stinks" Skittery remarked with a laugh. Then he remembered who Delilah and Tilda were. "Oh, sorry if that offended you." He sheepishly grinned. "Habit."
Tilda shook her head. "Why apologize when you're just telling the truth."
"Don't worry," Delilah started, folding her arms. "We know our Uncle and brothers are disgusting slobs, and are not afraid to say it. Basically, nothing about them can offend us."
Dutchy looked around the room spotting a photograph on a shelf. In the photo were two young boys and two young girls with rotten expressions on their faces. "Is that you two, and Oscar and Morris?"
"Yeah" Delilah answered, sadly.
"I'm surprised that photo is still there" Tilda said. "We took that right before Mama died."
Delilah could see it on their faces; they were about to ask questions. "I don't think it's a good for us to be here when our Uncle or brothers could walk in at anytime. Maybe we should go someplace else."
"Good idea" Skittery agreed.
"Hey, don't you two have newspapers to sell?" Tilda asked.
"Not today" Dutchy replied. "We can hold off selling for one day."
"Besides," Skittery started, smirking at Delilah. "You can buy us lunch with all that money you won last night."
"Gee, didn't think I'd become the provider of this group" she laughed, gesturing towards the window that hosted the fire escape. "Let's blow this joint."