DISCLAIMER: This story is run non-profit for fan purposes only, the characters are owned by their copyright holders. The songs mentioned in this story are for fan purposes and scene modification only, the songs are owned by their copyright holders. Juliana (Jules) is my very own creation! Enjoy!

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The following story is a "what-if" type. I'm basing the story two years after Alley dies, and Leon and Betsy's relationship isn't *that* serious. Thanks for the reviews!

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Leon's eyes popped open as he lay against the armrest of his couch. He had tried relentlessly to get some sleep after the long night he had spent with Betsy. But every little thing had kept him awake. The sound of Bobby's rumbling voice echoing up to the open window, the muffled sound of his mother's sobs in the other room and now, the rumble and voices of new neighbors moving in a flight of stairs down.

Leon rubbed his eyes roughly and stood up going to the ledge that looked onto the street. Bobby say with the rest of the Deuces outside the little coffee shop on the corner.

"Hey Bobby," he called down. "Have you seen the new neighbors? They're bein' louder than you are." This brought a spell of laughter from the group, Bobby smiling slightly.

"You're not gonna care how loud they're bein' until you see the girl!" Bobby called up, standing. He began walking across the street, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans. Leon watched him approach the building and went to the front door opening it with a squeak. He peered out into the hall seeing the top of someone's head bob up for a second and then out of sight.

"Leon!" Bobby sprinted up the stairs, his voice reverberating through the hall. Leon moved to the railing gazing down. Bobby bumped into the girl as he rounded the corner, the box in her hands falling to the ground, the contents spilling out. "Oh, geez, I'm sorry." He stuttered out at her, advancing toward his own apartment. Leon shook his head disapprovingly and strolled down the stairs past Bobby.

The girl, she couldn't have been more than 19, glared at Bobby as he ran up the stairs, her head whipping back to the box she had dropped. Leon stopped him, grabbing his shirt lightly.

"Are you that rude? You bump into someone making 'em drop their stuff and ya don't even help them pick it up?" he shook his head at Bobby and made his way to the second story flat, bending down to the girl crouched on the floor. "Sorry about my brother. Sometimes his manners escape him."

The girl shrugged lightly, her brunette hair bobbing softly, the chiffon scarf tied in her hair laying against her shoulders. Leon couldn't help but to study her, his eyes moving over her features. She had one of those natural complexions he adored, her eyes a deep cerulean blue, her lips a luscious cherry color. She wore a white cotton oxford shirt, untucked, over her pedal pushers. He glanced down and saw her saddle shoes, scuffed a bit but otherwise unmarked. A brief smile came to him then as they each grabbed for trinkets that had fallen out of the box.

I'm really givin' her the once over. I love my girlfriend, but oh you, kid. She turned to him, their eyes locking slightly. She smiled and stood, the box in her arms. Leon followed her, his eyes grazing over her soft curves and stopped on her wrist, the sleeves rolled to her elbows. There was a purple-blackish bruise circling the place where the hand meets the arm. He frowned slightly and rubbed the back of his neck slightly. The girl opened her mouth to say something, but closed it right away, walking into the apartment. Leon sighed, his eyes darting up to Bobby.

"It was nice to meet you!" he called into the room, beginning back up the stairs. The two brothers walked into their own place and shut the door. Bobby jumped up and down once, his arm going around Leon's neck.

"She's a dolly, isn't she? Oh man, we haven't had anyone that beautiful move in since I was an ankle-biter!" Bobby smiled largely, his voluble Brooklyn voice becoming muffled as he walked to the old Armana refrigerator they owned. Leon leaned against the wall, still smelling her soft scent. It was a clean scent, not cloying at all like most broads wore, but subtle. Delicate. He envisioned her once more, her slightly turned up nose, the creamy complexion.

You got that right, Daddy-o, he thought to himself. She sure is some kind of a dolly.

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More to come soon!