HeeHeeHee! I'm on a Roxanne overload and I...can't...stop! Wahoo! What a rush. I seriously am on the biggest writing kick right now, probably as a result of not having worked on the story since early summer. Plus, the story is really gonna get good here, so Disney owns the Newsies, TCF Own Moulin Rouge and any characters that did not spring from my mind belong to their respective owners...
It was three in the morning on a Wednesday in late October. A shadowed figure crept catlike up the darkened streets of Manhattan where the streetlamps had long since guttered out. The Newsboy lodging house loomed into view, wrapped in a blanket of slumber. The hard-working occupants of the structure had long since drifted into the waters of blissful dreams, happy to release from the drudgery of the day.
The figure climbed nimbly and silently up the iron ladder of the fire escape to the roof, taking extra care as he passed by the windows of the bunkroom. In a trice he had reached the top and swung his legs over the ledge easily. Smiling at the stealth of his ascent, he turned to go inside...
...and came face to face with a girl pale as marble and just as un-moveable. "Jesus Christ Ireland!" He fell back against the ledge with a gasp, hand pressed to his thudding heart.
"Jack, are you aware that we have to be awake for work in two and a half hours?" Ireland's face was emotionless and uncompromising.
Jack had the sense of a little boy who had been very naughty. He tried to shake the feeling with a careless laugh, "Yeah, so why are you up?"
"I was in the bathroom and saw you go past the window." Her eyes narrowed, "You were out seeing Roxanne again weren't you?"
"So what if I was?"
"Jack!"
"She was openin' a new act tonight," he said defensively, "She was nervous!"
"So send a card next time!" Ireland put her hand on his shoulder, "Jack, look at you, you've got big purple bags under your eyes, your white as a sheet. I found you asleep standing up the other day!"
He shook her off irritably, "So what? Everyone gets tired."
Ireland stared at him incredulously, "When we get tired it's not because we've been out all night every night. Look Jack, I know you wanna be there for Roxanne, but..."
"No, you don't know," he interrupted icily, "'Cause if you did know you wouldn't be buggin' me all the time."
"Jack, it's not healthy!"
"Just get out of my face!" he shouted. Immediately Jack regretted it. Ireland fell back a step, eyes wide with hurt and shock. "I'm...I'm sorry," he muttered, "Just...I just...I gotta go to bed."
Jack tumbled onto his bunk, still fully clothed, eyes itching with fatigue as he plunged into dreamless sleep. When he woke up, Ireland's bed was already made and it wasn't until later that he realized he had never heard her come back to bed.
Headlines were good that day because of a police raid at the home of a government official. By lunchtime most of the Manhattan Newsies were crowded into Tibby's and chattering over a hearty lunch.
Jack arrived shortly past noon looking very pleased with himself; Ireland was sitting with Mush at a table in the back.
"Hey Jack," Mush greeted his friend, "Sell out?"
Jack grinned as he pulled out a chair, "Is water wet? I'd have to be dumber then a Delancey not to." He tried to keep his face casual as smiled at Ireland, "Hi Ireland."
She smiled back, her own warm, welcoming smile...which on this occasion did not reach all the way to her eyes, "Hi Jack." Her tone was friendly, but the note of restraint in her voice escaped no one. Mush looked uncomfortably between the two.
"Look Ireland," Jack began timidly.
"Forget it," she cut in forgivingly, "It never happened okay."
He smiled, relieved, "Thanks." The tension at the table released like an opened pressure valve. Suddenly the room seemed brighter. The waiter with his tidy white notepad stopped at the table to take Jack's order, "Can I just get some soda and a pickle, Marty?" The waiter nodded and moved back towards the kitchen, but Jack's three companions stared at him. "I'm just not that hungry, that's all."
Mush looked doubtful, but tactfully changed the subject; however Ireland stared determinedly at her plate. She let her fingers dance over the rim of her water glass worryingly, but to her credit her face remained totally expressionless.
"Hey," Mush interjected brightly, "Medda's openin' a new act tonight, she promised us seats in the box. You're coming right."
Jack's food arrived and he sipped his soda uneasily as he answered, "No...no I don't think I can."
Ireland dropped her fork with a resounding clang, Mush's eyes widened in shock, "No?"
"It's just that I got plans..."
"With Roxanne," Ireland finished for him acidly, "Yes we know." She sighed disbelievingly, "Medda's been like family to you and now you're going to skip out on her opening because of some girl you met one month ago who won't even let you kiss her!"
Jack leaned back, stricken and Ireland knew she'd hit a nerve. Truthfully she had only been guessing about the last part but now everything about Jack's rigid posture and stony expression told her she was right. "Jack..."
"I'm going," he shoved back from the table making the silverware jump, "I promised I'd come at two."
Ireland and Mush watched him go, both speechless and both with a sinking feeling of dread.
The doormen at Violette knew Jack well by now and let him in the stage door with a smile of greeting. Rehearsal was happening onstage, but Roxanne was not there at all. The Stage Manager informed him that she was still with a client, who had only just woken up. "I think he should be leaving though," he assured Jack, "After all, his wife will be wondering after him soon."
As Jack climbed the stairs to the rooms set aside for top-paying customers a nagging little feeling buzzed in his mind like a gnat. Look at all she does for her job! It whispered shrilly, and she won't so much as let you kiss her hand. He shook his head angrily, there had to be a reason.
Roxanne's client was leaving just as Jack reached her dressing room. He could hear the sound of a bath being drawn for her from the next room while she brushed out her luxurious black curls. She noticed his reflection in her mirror immediately.
"Jack," she rose from the stool with a tired smile, "You're early."
"Yeah," he shrugged, "I sold out quick."
"I like it," she informed him "Only think of how often we'd see each other if you got off early every day!" her eyes danced teasingly. "Will you wait a few minutes before we talk, you wouldn't believe how badly I want a bath!"
Jack nodded with a smile as she let trailed her fingers across his collar on the way out. He made himself comfortable on her jade green velvet sofa and waited patiently. Twenty minutes later the door opened, and she emerged gowned in a plain blue dress, the scent of jasmine hovering around her like a halo. She was gorgeous.
"Why won't you let me kiss you?" the words were out before Jack could even think about them.
Roxanne stared at him for a moment and he felt his face go very warm. Suddenly she laughed, "What?"
No sense in backing away now, "Come on Roxanne, look at what you do for a living?" The smile began to fade from her face and her eyebrow arched up dangerously, Jack mentally slammed his head against a wall, "I mean, that you'll let all kinds of guys touch you, but...but I'm your guy. Why can't I even kiss you?"
To his surprise she laughed again and crossed the room to where he sat, "Jack, I thought you understood." He looked thoroughly confused, "You of all people should know that this is just business." She ran her fingers through his hair, and his heart palpitated madly, "If I didn't care for you I'd have let you kiss me ages ago!"
Now he felt more lost than ever, "Come again?"
Roxanne sighed, "I take it slow because I care. That's what makes you different than anyone I work for." She traced the curve of his cheekbone, "Well, that and your good looks."
Finally Jack smiled, "I knew they weren't right about you." He said with relief.
Roxanne cocked an eyebrow, "Who?"
"Ireland, some of the boys as the lodge. They're all tellin' me to be careful around you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Well don't listen," She said firmly, "They don't understand anything about us."
Her onyx eyes were sparkling with that inner flame he loved, "I know," he said with a nod, unable to look away, "No body else is as lucky."
For an instant Roxanne was lost in the impassioned depths of Jack's eyes, the intensity of his gaze. After a moment of intoxicating suspense, she gently tilted his head back and eased her lips against his. Jack could not move, could not think, could not breath. The world was spinning furiously away from him and he didn't care. Somewhere, cities flooded, houses burned, men lay bleeding in the street, but nothing mattered. Nothing but this girl and this moment.
Finally Roxanne leaned back, parting their connection. Jack was breathing hard, but she only smiled her dazzling smile, "Go down to the kitchen and get a bottle of champagne."
He left immediately, desperate to pull himself together. By the time he returned with the drink he was calmer. Roxanne offered him a cigarette and for the next two hours they sat on her dressing room balcony, smoking and passing the bottle back and forth. When the call came for her to dress for the show Jack finally got to his feet stretching.
"I guess that means I better get to the gallery before the crew takes all the good spots." He tossed her a rose from the vase on her vanity, "I'd tell you good luck if you needed it."
He turned to leave and her voice stopped him, "Jack," he turned back to her, "Aren't you forgetting to kiss me goodbye?" He stared astonished for a moment, a smile played at the corner of her perfect mouth. "Well?"
Putting on his most mockingly serious face, Jack crossed the room to her. He molded his hand to the small of her slender back, pulled her close against him, and for the first time, Jack Kelly gave a kiss to Roxanne. A sweet, beautiful kiss with a sharply passionate edge. When he finally left they were both smiling.
As the door closed, Roxanne waited until the sound of his footsteps had faded away and then she collapsed on her sofa and laughed until she was nearly sick.
Jack spent the night up in the gallery in a cloud of rapture. He was not even sure he saw the show, there was nothing to him but Roxanne. The glowing, perfect firestorm of a girl. The crown jewel...his jewel. Even after she got off stage he waited until he saw her go upstairs with a client before he left. It was nearly two in the morning, his eyes were raw with sleeplessness and he did not care. A foolish grin lit his face as he walked home. Those rich guys can have her, he thought gleefully they can pay all they want to have her, 'cause in the morning she's my girl. She kisses me not them.
Jack lay awake until nearly daybreak thinking of her and one thing kept floating through his mind, "Only think of how often we'd see each other if you got off early every day!" She'd said it teasingly, but what if he could manage it? He would manage it. Jack knew for certain his friends were wrong about her and now nothing would keep him from her.
When the bunkroom came alive the next morning, Jack's bed was already made. It was almost discomforting to not have his familiar presence among them as the day began. Conversation was sparse, only Sapphy's shouted query to the whereabouts of one of her three rings caused any dialogue in the eerily quiet room. As the throng of Manhattan Newsies pushed through the circulation gate he was on his way out, a startlingly thin stack of papers under his arm.
"Hey Jack!" Race hailed him from across the street, the taller boy glanced up, startled out of a dream world, "Watcha got there, like thirty papes?"
Jack shrugged passively, "Yeah, so?"
"Nothin', it's just that you been sellin' a hundred a day since you were twelve. Your arms getting' tired ol' man?"
"No, I just don't got time to sell a hundred." Jack disappeared around the corner before anyone could say another word.
Ireland sighed, rubbing her temples against the monstrous headache she could feel approaching. However it hit her full force a moment later as shouts erupted around the same corner.
"You asshole!" Sapphy's furious shriek echoed on the bare streets. No one even had time to exchange a glance before they all took off running in the direction of the shout. By the lamp post they found a very uncomfortable Jack cornered by Race who was rapidly swearing in Italian, and Sapphy who was still yelling.
"Hey!" Ireland shouted over the racket, everyone looked at her, startled into silence "What the hell is going on?"
Sapphy was so angry that her words tumbled over each other, but she finally managed coherent sentence, "He stole my ring," she fumed, "The one I couldn't find this morning. When he took his hand out of his pocket to wave it fell out."
"Bastard." Race muttered under his breath.
Everyone stared at Jack, lost for words. The silence seemed to grow louder and louder until a freight train would not have drained out that avalanche of soundlessness. Ireland finally spoke, "Jack, why..."
"I gotta go." He turned and ran as fast as he could go, ignoring the cries of his friends. His shoes slapped the pavement and his papers fell to the ground, forgotten. He could not explain what he had done, he knew they wouldn't understand. They didn't understand anything.
Somehow, he found himself at the stately townhouse Roxanne shared with her friends. The housekeeper, a plump, stern woman with silvery hair informed him that she had already left but would return by eight, "It's her off night." The woman explained.
Jack sat down to wait. Hour upon hour passed as her remained upon the cold, hard front steps. The shadows changed, then began to fade, his stomach growled, and still he did not move. The stars had already appeared when a handsome cab dropped off Roxanne.
She paid the driver and then turned and stopped short in surprise, "Jack! How long have you been waiting."
He struggled to his feet, numbness prickling up and down the backs of his legs, "Since this morning." His voice was rough with the silence he'd kept all day.
Roxanne's eyes widened just slightly, "Why?" Simple, straightforward...he could not lie to her and the story spilled out like water from a shattered dam.
"It's just, I wanted to give you something nice and I knew I was never gonna have the money. Well my friend Sapphy has a bunch of rings she wears, so I thought she wasn't gonna miss one and I took it. But it fell out of my pocket when I saw her today and she exploded and now," he sighed, "Now everyone's mad at me."
He thought he saw a smile flirt across Roxanne's lips, but it must have been a fleeting shadow. As she stepped forward her expression was calm and appraising, "You did that just to impress me?"
Jack looked down, embarrassed beyond all reckoning, "I guess."
She was quiet for several seconds and then suddenly, "I think you'd better come upstairs with me Jack."
His head came up, "What?"
She took his hand in hers, "I want you to spend the night."
It was a night beyond Jack's greatest imaginings. She was so perfect, so beautiful in every way. When at last they lay in each others arms sleeping soundly, his was the sleep of utter contentment and happiness.
Somewhere outside, a workman passed on his way home from the late shift. He whistled as he walked, old Irish pub songs learned as a boy. Tonight the song he passed along to was one with a jig melody, an old drinking song called "Draw the Noose Tighter."
I'm actually not sure how I feel about this chapter. I don't love it, but I wanted to get it out there, and I feel good having done so. You know, I feel like the story keeps getting better, so WHY does my readership keep declining?! I am aggravated beyond reason right now...reviews would be much appreciated!
LadyRach- Roxanne's a real piece of work. Just wait till you see what's coming! Then you can decide how much you like or dislike the mysterious Miss. Roxanne. Don't listen to your family, what do they know? My family told me I'd never get higher than a C in chemistry and look at me now, I passed last year with...a C...in chemistry. Okay, bad example, but even so, I'm sure you sing great doll. Thanks for the review! ;)
Sapphy- (Gently removes club from Sapphy's hand) Darlin' don't go hurting my heroine, I still need her for the rest of the story. Hope you don't mind me taking my inspiration for Jack's...transgression, from your story. It just seemed like a really good way to get everyone pissed at him. And don't worry, I made sure that Race gave you a cookie-sheet sized chocolate chip cookie. I can't wait to hit NYC with you! So who's Joey and who's Chandler? We both kinda have our moments, it could be hard to tell. Love ya babe, thanks for the review! ;)