Reform
Specs/Dutchy, AU Newsies fic
NekoShininigami
Disclaimer: ;__; I own nothing. I can't afford to own anything. *sigh* This chapter is much longer than the first two because a) It's a partial songfic and b) I suck at introductory chapters. So.uh.YAY! Here we go.
Chapter Three: Carry on Dancing
It was quite unnerving to say the least, to be sitting in your living room with a complete stranger, in total silence. Especially when that stranger was a policeman, namely your parole officer. Dutchy sighed and looked back down at the paper in his hands. The minute hand on the clock clicked into position, making the clock read 7:45. Dutchy tossed the paper down to the coffee table and stood up, looking at Specs, whose nose was buried in a book.
"Specs," Dutchy began, bringing the brunette's attention to him. "Assuming you don't have any plans tonight, how about we go to a club downtown?" Specs put down his book and looked at the blonde.
"A club?" he repeated, skeptically. Dutchy nodded, an amused smirk creeping across his face.
"Yeah, Specs. A club. You know, dance floor, DJ, knocking back some drinks, having a good time?" Specs' brow furrowed.
"I don't.dance that well," he warned. Dutchy waved his hand dismissively.
"Pah," he said airily. "I have to wonder if you've ever been dancing, book-man. If you really can't dance well." he paused to wink broadly at Specs, "I can teach you. It'll be fun! We can pick up some girls, a guy or two." Dutchy grinned.
"'A guy or two'?" Specs repeated, surprised. "You mean you're.you." he fumbled with the words. Dutchy's grin became wolfish.
"Speak fag?" he offered. "Sure, Specs. Not many people left in this city who don't. That bother you?"
"N-no," Specs said, still blinking in confusion at this new bit of information. Dutchy chuckled to himself.
"Good to know, Specs-man," he told him. "Now, I'll be right back. I'm gonna go change." He eyed Specs critically. "You might want to, too," he announced. Specs blinked once more, looking down at his outfit.
"What's wrong with this?" he asked. Dutchy snorted.
"Oh, nothing's wrong with it , Specs," he chortled. "If you want people to know you're a cop." He laughed openly now, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Do have anything less.librarian?" Specs scowled at the insult.
"I like how I dress," he said defensively.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Dutchy said. "C'mere. I should have some club stuff that should fit you." He wandered into the larger bedroom, leaving Specs to contemplate just what he had gotten himself into." As he began to follow the energetic blonde, the paper on the table caught his eye. One headline in particular, which read "Sun reporter arrested in inner- city drug bust."
~~~~~~~~~
"C'mon, Specs! You can't hide in the bathroom forever! Let me see!"
"No. Absolutely not. I am not coming out." Specs' voice was stubborn and annoyed.
"You big baby! I wouldn't have given you that outfit if I thought I would laugh at you in it!" Dutchy persisted. The door creaked open. "That's more like it." Specs stepped out of the bathroom, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. "Oh, lighten up, and let me take a look at you."
On his feet were black Doc Martens, and his lower body was encased in tight, black jeans. He wore a skin-tight, blood red t-shirt, covered by a black, button-up shirt with a flame design on it. Dutchy let out a whistle and clapped his hands together. "Oh, I am a genius. You look hot. What problems could you possibly have, Specs?" Specs scowled as Dutchy's eyes looked him over once more, lighting up in appreciation.
"I feel like.a pimp," he complained. Dutchy laughed.
"Well, if anyone asks, I'll tell them you're my pimp, ok?" he assured the now-blushing man.
"Your outfit is more conservative," Specs pointed out. "Why couldn't I wear that one?" Dutchy himself was wearing dark blue, tight jeans, casual blue tennis shoes, and a silver, button-up shirt. Dutchy rolled his eyes.
"Because that outfit looks better on you," he replied. "Now, stop complaining, and let's go."
They went out to the complex's parking garage, where Dutchy's car waited.
They traveled in silence for a majority of the way, the only noise between them being the low squalling of the radio. The song changed, and Dutchy's eyes lit up.
"Oooh! I love this song!" he cheered, cranking up the volume and singing along. "The moonlight...shines down interstellar beams. And the groove tonight.is more than you've ever seen. The stars and planets taking shape, a stolen kiss has come too late." Specs felt his head bobbing along to the tune. Not so much to the song itself, as to Dutchy's sweet tenor singing the words. Dutchy turned and looked briefly at the brunette, grinning. "You a Savage Garden fan, Specs?" Specs blinked. [1]
"No, but I have a feeling that, by the end of four months, I will be." Dutchy laughed.
"Very good, Specs. I see you're picking up the rules of the game." Specs had to smile.
"Yeah, I guess I am." Dutchy pulled the car into a parking lot, cruising for an open spot. It took a few minutes, but he finally found one.
"Great," he said, cutting the engine. "Ready, Specs?" Specs shrugged.
"Only as ready as I'll ever be," he told the blonde.
"That's what I like to hear!" Dutchy grinned. "Let's party."
The interior of the club was everything Specs had expected, yet overwhelming at the same time. People lined every wall, bar stool, table, and square inch of dance floor. Specs swallowed hard and stuck close to Dutchy, who he hoped - prayed knew what he was doing.
"Dutch! Ehy, Dutchy!" called a man behind the bar with a cowboy hat on his head.
"Ehy, Cowboy!" Dutchy called back, leading Specs towards two empty stools at the bar. "How's it goin' Jacky-boy?" he asked, shaking the man's hand in a friendly manner.
"All's good, lately," Cowboy said. "I can't complain, anyway. Haven't seen you around for a while. Where have you been, man?" Dutchy shrugged nonchalantly.
"Places, Cowboy my good man, just places." Cowboy's gaze landed on Specs, who was staring around the club in mild amazement.
"And who's this?" Cowboy asked Dutchy, gesturing at the brunette. "He your new flavor, Dutchy?" Specs face went bright red, but Dutchy just laughed.
"Not exactly, Cowboy. Just a friend." Cowboy grinned shrewdly.
"Sure, Dutchy. Sure."
~This guy's not embarrassed by anything!~ Specs thought, looking at Dutchy's carefree smile.
"Hey, stranger," said an approaching man with longish blonde hair and ice blue eyes, wrapping his arms around Cowboy's waist.
"Hey, sexy," Cowboy greeted the newcomer, tilting his head to place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hey, Spot," Dutchy greeted.
"Dutchy! Been a while man." Dutchy grinned.
"I know. So your boy-toy tells me." Spot snorted. "Anyway, just wanted to say hi. I'm gonna hit the dance floor. We'll check in with you lovebirds later." With that, Dutchy grabbed Specs' arm and led him away from the bar.
"I already _told_ you," Specs protested. "I _don't_ dance!"
"Well, you're about to learn," Dutchy told him. "They're playing our song!" Specs sighed and allowed himself to be pulled to the dance floor, wondering vaguely to himself, ~We have a _song_?~
"You're never safe...until you see the dawn. The clock strikes past midnight, the hope is gone. To move under...In the moonlight..." The song from the car ride hummed in Specs' ears as Dutchy pulled him through a group of dancing people.
"Where are we _going_?" he shouted above the music. "Won't any spot do?" Dutchy laughed, but Specs' could only hear the song.
"Nope! We gotta find _the_ dancing spot!" Specs blinked in confusion, but followed Dutchy without any more questions.
"Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing. In the moonlight...Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing..." Finally, they reached a spot that Dutchy deigned suitable, and Specs found himself pulled embarrassingly close to the blonde's body.
"Ready for your dancing lesson?" Dutchy asked him. Specs shrugged. Dutchy put his hands on the brunette's hips, allowing Specs to be guided in the moves. Much to his surprise, Specs found himself slipping easily into the rhythm, and Dutchy wiggled his eyebrows at him. "I thought you said you couldn't dance!" he demanded teasingly.
"I couldn't!" Specs replied.
"There's a magic only two can tell...In the dark night, ultra-violet is a wicked spell. The stars and planets taking shape, a stolen kiss has come too late..." The lyrics seemed, somehow, to fit the moment, and Specs felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He prayed Dutchy would dismiss it as just dancing, but he suspected Dutchy had noticed.
"In the moonlight..." Dutchy sang softly, so only Specs could hear his voice. "Carry on, keep romancing."
"Carry on, carry on dancing," Dutchy's voice continued.
"Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing. Moving on...Moving all night..." The song ended, and Specs felt his heart rate slow back to normal.
"You want a drink?" Dutchy asked, indicating Specs' flushed cheeks. Specs nodded gratefully, and Dutchy disappeared into the crowd.
It didn't worry Specs when the blonde didn't return right away. He figured there was a line at the bar, and he leaned casually up against a wall. When ten minutes passed, Specs began to wonder where Dutchy had gone. After fifteen minutes, he decided to go looking for him. There was no familiar spectacled face by the bar, so Specs asked Cowboy if Dutchy had come by.
"Dutch? Yeah, he was waiting in line, but some guy, a friend of his, I guess, came up behind him. They went to go talk, I guess." Specs raised an eyebrow. Spot handed him a glass of water.
"Been dancing, huh? You look like you need this," he said. Specs thanked him, and continued to look for Dutchy. The last person to have seen Dutchy was the man at the door, and he said they had gone outside. Specs stepped out into the cool night air, looking around. It didn't take long for him to get an idea where his "charge" had gone, as loud, angry voices were coming from an alley nearby.
"Look, Mush! I told you, Skit's in the slammer. I was _there_ when the cops busted him!" There was another noise, which sounded suspiciously to Specs like skin hitting skin.
"And _I_ told _you_ that I ain't buyin' that!" Specs quietly approached, finally gaining a view of a muscled young man pinning Dutchy to the wall, one fist raised. Specs snuck even closer, trying not to cause the one Dutchy called Mush to acknowledge his existence in the alley.
The fist in front Dutchy's face came forward again, but Dutchy managed to raise an arm to block it. "Well, start buyin' it, Mush, cause that's where he is." Dutchy's own fist came forward then, making contact with Mush's nose.
"Dutchy!" Specs hissed, gesturing for him to get away while Mush was distracted by the pain. Dutchy turned his head and spotted him. He scrambled out of Mush's grasp, grabbed Specs' wrist, and hauled them both out of the alley.
"You came to save me?" Dutchy asked, as they were running. "My hero!"
"Shut up and move," Specs snapped as they approached the parking lot.
"You know, I don't think he's following us," Dutchy proclaimed as they reached his car. "I think your big, bad, cop-ness scared him off."
Specs scowled disapprovingly, opened the passenger door, and slid into his seat. "You wanna explain to me who that was?" he demanded, as Dutchy started the engine.
"It's a long story," Dutchy warned. Specs smiled wryly.
"Hey, I've got four months, remember?"
~End Chapter 3~
[1]: O_o; He's been doing a lot of that this chapter.Maybe something's in his eye? O_o;;;
Dutchy is so fun to write as a smart-ass. XD Please R+R this chapter! Sorry it took so long.
Disclaimer: ;__; I own nothing. I can't afford to own anything. *sigh* This chapter is much longer than the first two because a) It's a partial songfic and b) I suck at introductory chapters. So.uh.YAY! Here we go.
Chapter Three: Carry on Dancing
It was quite unnerving to say the least, to be sitting in your living room with a complete stranger, in total silence. Especially when that stranger was a policeman, namely your parole officer. Dutchy sighed and looked back down at the paper in his hands. The minute hand on the clock clicked into position, making the clock read 7:45. Dutchy tossed the paper down to the coffee table and stood up, looking at Specs, whose nose was buried in a book.
"Specs," Dutchy began, bringing the brunette's attention to him. "Assuming you don't have any plans tonight, how about we go to a club downtown?" Specs put down his book and looked at the blonde.
"A club?" he repeated, skeptically. Dutchy nodded, an amused smirk creeping across his face.
"Yeah, Specs. A club. You know, dance floor, DJ, knocking back some drinks, having a good time?" Specs' brow furrowed.
"I don't.dance that well," he warned. Dutchy waved his hand dismissively.
"Pah," he said airily. "I have to wonder if you've ever been dancing, book-man. If you really can't dance well." he paused to wink broadly at Specs, "I can teach you. It'll be fun! We can pick up some girls, a guy or two." Dutchy grinned.
"'A guy or two'?" Specs repeated, surprised. "You mean you're.you." he fumbled with the words. Dutchy's grin became wolfish.
"Speak fag?" he offered. "Sure, Specs. Not many people left in this city who don't. That bother you?"
"N-no," Specs said, still blinking in confusion at this new bit of information. Dutchy chuckled to himself.
"Good to know, Specs-man," he told him. "Now, I'll be right back. I'm gonna go change." He eyed Specs critically. "You might want to, too," he announced. Specs blinked once more, looking down at his outfit.
"What's wrong with this?" he asked. Dutchy snorted.
"Oh, nothing's wrong with it , Specs," he chortled. "If you want people to know you're a cop." He laughed openly now, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Do have anything less.librarian?" Specs scowled at the insult.
"I like how I dress," he said defensively.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Dutchy said. "C'mere. I should have some club stuff that should fit you." He wandered into the larger bedroom, leaving Specs to contemplate just what he had gotten himself into." As he began to follow the energetic blonde, the paper on the table caught his eye. One headline in particular, which read "Sun reporter arrested in inner- city drug bust."
~~~~~~~~~
"C'mon, Specs! You can't hide in the bathroom forever! Let me see!"
"No. Absolutely not. I am not coming out." Specs' voice was stubborn and annoyed.
"You big baby! I wouldn't have given you that outfit if I thought I would laugh at you in it!" Dutchy persisted. The door creaked open. "That's more like it." Specs stepped out of the bathroom, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. "Oh, lighten up, and let me take a look at you."
On his feet were black Doc Martens, and his lower body was encased in tight, black jeans. He wore a skin-tight, blood red t-shirt, covered by a black, button-up shirt with a flame design on it. Dutchy let out a whistle and clapped his hands together. "Oh, I am a genius. You look hot. What problems could you possibly have, Specs?" Specs scowled as Dutchy's eyes looked him over once more, lighting up in appreciation.
"I feel like.a pimp," he complained. Dutchy laughed.
"Well, if anyone asks, I'll tell them you're my pimp, ok?" he assured the now-blushing man.
"Your outfit is more conservative," Specs pointed out. "Why couldn't I wear that one?" Dutchy himself was wearing dark blue, tight jeans, casual blue tennis shoes, and a silver, button-up shirt. Dutchy rolled his eyes.
"Because that outfit looks better on you," he replied. "Now, stop complaining, and let's go."
They went out to the complex's parking garage, where Dutchy's car waited.
They traveled in silence for a majority of the way, the only noise between them being the low squalling of the radio. The song changed, and Dutchy's eyes lit up.
"Oooh! I love this song!" he cheered, cranking up the volume and singing along. "The moonlight...shines down interstellar beams. And the groove tonight.is more than you've ever seen. The stars and planets taking shape, a stolen kiss has come too late." Specs felt his head bobbing along to the tune. Not so much to the song itself, as to Dutchy's sweet tenor singing the words. Dutchy turned and looked briefly at the brunette, grinning. "You a Savage Garden fan, Specs?" Specs blinked. [1]
"No, but I have a feeling that, by the end of four months, I will be." Dutchy laughed.
"Very good, Specs. I see you're picking up the rules of the game." Specs had to smile.
"Yeah, I guess I am." Dutchy pulled the car into a parking lot, cruising for an open spot. It took a few minutes, but he finally found one.
"Great," he said, cutting the engine. "Ready, Specs?" Specs shrugged.
"Only as ready as I'll ever be," he told the blonde.
"That's what I like to hear!" Dutchy grinned. "Let's party."
The interior of the club was everything Specs had expected, yet overwhelming at the same time. People lined every wall, bar stool, table, and square inch of dance floor. Specs swallowed hard and stuck close to Dutchy, who he hoped - prayed knew what he was doing.
"Dutch! Ehy, Dutchy!" called a man behind the bar with a cowboy hat on his head.
"Ehy, Cowboy!" Dutchy called back, leading Specs towards two empty stools at the bar. "How's it goin' Jacky-boy?" he asked, shaking the man's hand in a friendly manner.
"All's good, lately," Cowboy said. "I can't complain, anyway. Haven't seen you around for a while. Where have you been, man?" Dutchy shrugged nonchalantly.
"Places, Cowboy my good man, just places." Cowboy's gaze landed on Specs, who was staring around the club in mild amazement.
"And who's this?" Cowboy asked Dutchy, gesturing at the brunette. "He your new flavor, Dutchy?" Specs face went bright red, but Dutchy just laughed.
"Not exactly, Cowboy. Just a friend." Cowboy grinned shrewdly.
"Sure, Dutchy. Sure."
~This guy's not embarrassed by anything!~ Specs thought, looking at Dutchy's carefree smile.
"Hey, stranger," said an approaching man with longish blonde hair and ice blue eyes, wrapping his arms around Cowboy's waist.
"Hey, sexy," Cowboy greeted the newcomer, tilting his head to place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hey, Spot," Dutchy greeted.
"Dutchy! Been a while man." Dutchy grinned.
"I know. So your boy-toy tells me." Spot snorted. "Anyway, just wanted to say hi. I'm gonna hit the dance floor. We'll check in with you lovebirds later." With that, Dutchy grabbed Specs' arm and led him away from the bar.
"I already _told_ you," Specs protested. "I _don't_ dance!"
"Well, you're about to learn," Dutchy told him. "They're playing our song!" Specs sighed and allowed himself to be pulled to the dance floor, wondering vaguely to himself, ~We have a _song_?~
"You're never safe...until you see the dawn. The clock strikes past midnight, the hope is gone. To move under...In the moonlight..." The song from the car ride hummed in Specs' ears as Dutchy pulled him through a group of dancing people.
"Where are we _going_?" he shouted above the music. "Won't any spot do?" Dutchy laughed, but Specs' could only hear the song.
"Nope! We gotta find _the_ dancing spot!" Specs blinked in confusion, but followed Dutchy without any more questions.
"Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing. In the moonlight...Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing..." Finally, they reached a spot that Dutchy deigned suitable, and Specs found himself pulled embarrassingly close to the blonde's body.
"Ready for your dancing lesson?" Dutchy asked him. Specs shrugged. Dutchy put his hands on the brunette's hips, allowing Specs to be guided in the moves. Much to his surprise, Specs found himself slipping easily into the rhythm, and Dutchy wiggled his eyebrows at him. "I thought you said you couldn't dance!" he demanded teasingly.
"I couldn't!" Specs replied.
"There's a magic only two can tell...In the dark night, ultra-violet is a wicked spell. The stars and planets taking shape, a stolen kiss has come too late..." The lyrics seemed, somehow, to fit the moment, and Specs felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He prayed Dutchy would dismiss it as just dancing, but he suspected Dutchy had noticed.
"In the moonlight..." Dutchy sang softly, so only Specs could hear his voice. "Carry on, keep romancing."
"Carry on, carry on dancing," Dutchy's voice continued.
"Carry on, keep romancing. Carry on, carry on dancing. Moving on...Moving all night..." The song ended, and Specs felt his heart rate slow back to normal.
"You want a drink?" Dutchy asked, indicating Specs' flushed cheeks. Specs nodded gratefully, and Dutchy disappeared into the crowd.
It didn't worry Specs when the blonde didn't return right away. He figured there was a line at the bar, and he leaned casually up against a wall. When ten minutes passed, Specs began to wonder where Dutchy had gone. After fifteen minutes, he decided to go looking for him. There was no familiar spectacled face by the bar, so Specs asked Cowboy if Dutchy had come by.
"Dutch? Yeah, he was waiting in line, but some guy, a friend of his, I guess, came up behind him. They went to go talk, I guess." Specs raised an eyebrow. Spot handed him a glass of water.
"Been dancing, huh? You look like you need this," he said. Specs thanked him, and continued to look for Dutchy. The last person to have seen Dutchy was the man at the door, and he said they had gone outside. Specs stepped out into the cool night air, looking around. It didn't take long for him to get an idea where his "charge" had gone, as loud, angry voices were coming from an alley nearby.
"Look, Mush! I told you, Skit's in the slammer. I was _there_ when the cops busted him!" There was another noise, which sounded suspiciously to Specs like skin hitting skin.
"And _I_ told _you_ that I ain't buyin' that!" Specs quietly approached, finally gaining a view of a muscled young man pinning Dutchy to the wall, one fist raised. Specs snuck even closer, trying not to cause the one Dutchy called Mush to acknowledge his existence in the alley.
The fist in front Dutchy's face came forward again, but Dutchy managed to raise an arm to block it. "Well, start buyin' it, Mush, cause that's where he is." Dutchy's own fist came forward then, making contact with Mush's nose.
"Dutchy!" Specs hissed, gesturing for him to get away while Mush was distracted by the pain. Dutchy turned his head and spotted him. He scrambled out of Mush's grasp, grabbed Specs' wrist, and hauled them both out of the alley.
"You came to save me?" Dutchy asked, as they were running. "My hero!"
"Shut up and move," Specs snapped as they approached the parking lot.
"You know, I don't think he's following us," Dutchy proclaimed as they reached his car. "I think your big, bad, cop-ness scared him off."
Specs scowled disapprovingly, opened the passenger door, and slid into his seat. "You wanna explain to me who that was?" he demanded, as Dutchy started the engine.
"It's a long story," Dutchy warned. Specs smiled wryly.
"Hey, I've got four months, remember?"
~End Chapter 3~
[1]: O_o; He's been doing a lot of that this chapter.Maybe something's in his eye? O_o;;;
Dutchy is so fun to write as a smart-ass. XD Please R+R this chapter! Sorry it took so long.