Title: Sealed with a Kiss

Author: Stress

Summary: Layna Kotliar is a girl with a secret so big that she doesn't even know it herself. Will she be able to trust David with it or will she continue to rely on the only friend she's ever known, a simple leather-bound journal?

The translations: As you will see as the fiction begins (and continues), Layna is a French immigrant. Therefore, much of what she says is in French. When the dialogue called for it I tried to include a translation but not always. However, I will include translations at the bottom. Hopefully it will add to the experience of the story.

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V. STRESS

Come back to me boy…

19 August 1899

Mon journal,

Mon journal précieux. Au moins je vous ai toujours. I just don't know anymore. Everything seemed to be going well with David – that is, up until yesterday afternoon. I should have known something was wrong. David and I were out with Stress and Jack and they two of them were fighting with each other. Jack, it seemed, had been bothering her all morning about something…

"Jack, will you just give it a rest already. I told you more than once already – I'm not going." Stress sighed in annoyance and hurried ahead so that she was a few feet in front of him.

"But Stress," he argued, quickening his pace so that he was beside her, "you promised me that we'd go down to Irving Hall and visit Medda tonight. I already told Blink and them that we'd see them later."

She sighed and refused to look at him. Listening to him remind her constantly of a vague promise was beginning to wear on her patience. "We were just there a couple days ago, Jack. And besides, you know how much I hate pink."

He ignored the comment about Medda's favorite color and continued, instead, to pester her. "C'mon, Stress. All I'm asking is that you come down there with me to spend some time with the other fellows. Don't you want to see our pals? And, you did say you would go."

"And, you know what? I changed my mind, Jack. God, what's with all the nagging today? I swear, its times like these when I wish that I didn't stop seeing Dave. He never nagged me." Stress nonchalantly tightened the clip that kept her long brown curls back before increasing her step even more so. It was a cheap shot, and meant to be so – Jack caught onto her intent and he scowled briefly before replying.

"Stress, that ain't fair," he said as he broke into a jog to catch up with her. Turning around in order to face Secrets and David, he called back to them. "We're going to go on ahead. We'll meet you over at Tibby's when we're done selling."

"See you," answered David with an embarrassed wave. His cheeks had colored when Stress brought him into the argument and he was glad that the pair was going on to finish their argument without him present. But, when he turned to Secrets to make light of the tense situation, he was surprised that she was looking at him strangely. "What?" he asked, a little self-conscious. Her stare was making him nervous.

"David, what did she mean by that?" Secrets asked, her lips formed into a pout.

He looked confused. "By what?"

"She said that she's sorry that she stopped seeing you. What did she mean?"

"Oh," he said. That was all he offered. If it were possible, his face went even redder. He began to walk forward, hoping that she would drop the subject.

She didn't. Instead of following him, she remained standing where she was. "Were the two of you together at some point, David?"

He turned around and saw that she hadn't moved. He paused. "Well…"

"Dites-moi," she ordered. Whether or not David could translate her statement, he looked surprised at the tone she had adopted. It was harsh and seemed unnatural coming from the petite girl.

David didn't answer her right away. He obviously was thinking about his answer and how he should phrase it. With a sigh, he met her stare. "Yes, Secrets, I went out with Stress a few times."

She was crushed. "Que? Me charriez-vous? Elle?" Secrets first reaction was to yell out in French. She took a deep breath and translated. "What? Are you kidding me? Her?" she repeated, in English this time. For some reason, she had assumed that she was the first girl that David had taken out. But Stress? She didn't seem to match him at all. He was so sweet and kind; she was loud and nosy. And it was her that had broken it off – what if he still had feelings for her?

David began to feel a little guilty that he hadn't told Secrets about Stress earlier. "It wasn't like that, Secrets. When I first met her, she seemed exciting. She wasn't with Jack yet and he was courting my sister, Sarah. It didn't last longer than a week," he said, trying to explain. Secrets just turned away from him. He approached her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "Secrets, I'm sorry," he added.

But Secrets, whose back had been turned to David, hadn't been expecting his touch. Almost at once, she grew rigid underneath his hand.

"I'm sorry, Layna, I'm sorry." The officer kept repeating the phrase, soothingly, as he gently guided Layna away from the scene. "Johnson," he called as he watched his comrade ride up to apartment building, "there are two bodies over there. Quite a mess to clean up, son. Get some help, would you?"

Officer Johnson, not that much younger than his fellow officer, looked over at him in surprise. "You mean, I have to clean the mess up, Murphy?"

Officer Murphy nodded. "Yes. I have more important matters to tend to right now," he said, bluntly, as he gestured to the wide-eyed little girl who stood, clinging to his knees.

Officer Johnson looked at Layna and smiled gently. "I'm sorry, child. But mind Officer Murphy, he's a kind man." He tipped his policeman's hat in her direction and rode towards the end of the street where another crowd was gathering.

"Officer Murphy?" she whispered into his pants leg.

"Yes, Layna?"

"What's gonna happen to me?" Her tiny frame began to tremble as realization hit her seven-year-old brain. Without a mother or father to take care of her, she was alone.

"Don't you worry, child. I know the perfect place for you. And I'm sure you'll love Madame Pearson."

"Secrets?" David asked, his hand frozen to her shoulder. He was afraid to do anything. She had gone extremely tense once he made contact and it had now been over a minute since he apologized. She hadn't responded yet. He was beginning to get worried.

And then, all at once, her body relaxed. "Yes, David?" She turned around, wiping her blue eyes taking on a slight daze. While he looked worried, she looked confused.

David lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, Secrets. I should have told you about Stress earlier," he said as he pushed a patch of dirt around with his tip of his faded brown shoe, avoiding her dazed expression. She must be really mad. "I was afraid that you would react just like this, and it only lasted about a week, so…"

Secrets' frown slowly turned upwards as she shrugged away any negative thoughts. That's all? Seulement une semaine? And she broke it off with him. That's not as bad as I thought. She nodded and extended her hand to him. "That's alright, David. Je comprends. I know I have no reasons to be jealous of her."

"Exactly," David agreed with a smile as he reached out and took her hand. His smile widened.

I accepted David's reasons. Why should he have to tell me everything about his life? And so soon? I had to keep reminding myself that we only just met. Nous devons prendre des choses lentes. But I couldn't accept it when he spent all this morning with her instead of me...

"Oh, Dave," laughed Stress as she clutched David's arm and led him away, leaving behind both Jack and Secrets, each fuming at her obvious display of affection towards the boy.

"I'm glad you liked my joke, Stress," David replied as he let himself be led by her. Neither Jack nor Secrets missed the fact that his face was colored at her touch and attention.

"Stress, are you ready to sell with me now?" asked Jack, pointedly, as he crossed his chest and paused. He felt as if he were left out of the conversation – a feeling he didn't like at all. He was still a little sore at Stress' remark from the day before and, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he was hurt at the way Stress said she would rather date David than him. Even if she had only said it in the heat of their fight yesterday morning, it seemed like she was making good on her threat.

She was obviously still a little mad at him. "Hey, Cowboy, hold your horses. Can't you see that I'm talking to Dave here?" Okay, a lot mad. The truth was that she was only doing it in order to make Jack jealous. She was angry at the way that he implied that she was too stubborn and fickle. Even after they had made up yesterday, she had spent that night thinking it over and decided that she would show Jack how important she was by ignoring him and spending the day with David. It was working.

Unfortunately, though, it was working on Secrets too – except she didn't have the nerve to say anything to them. But it didn't stop her from thinking to herself. I can't believe she's possession sur a David like that when Jack is right behind her. Est elle essayant de l'emmener de moi? Secrets' blue eyes darted over to the happy expression on David's face. And he's happy to her do so. I thought that we had that all figured out yesterday. Je devine non, she noted when she saw Stress lean over and give David a quick kiss on the cheek. It felt like her heart plummeted straight down to her brown shoes. She had the sudden urge to slap Stress but found she couldn't move. The action, however, was just what Jack needed to break up the pair.

Jack walked forward and grabbed Stress by the arm. Surprised, she jumped away from David and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He didn't let go. "That's it, me and you are going off to sell by ourselves," he announced and tried to get her to walk forward.

Secrets cheered inwardly at Jack's possessiveness. The boy was doing what she, herself, wished she could have done. Maybe now she could spend some time alone with David.

But, before he had gotten Stress to walk more than two steps, she turned and stepped on his foot. Jack hadn't been expected her to do that and he slackened his hold on her arm. She immediately pulled it back and placed both hands on her hips. "Francis Sullivan," she said and Secrets wondered who she was addressing. The furious expression on Jack's face indicated that it was him – and that such a name was something that no one else was supposed to hear. She paid no attention to him and continued to holler in his face. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

Jack regained some of his composure and turned his fury and embarrassment into self-righteousness. He mimicked her stance, but instead of placing his hands on his hips, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I think that I was just stopping my girl from flirting with my best friend, Jessa Rhian," he countered, a triumphant look coming to his brown eyes. If she wanted to fling his Christian name at him, she would get hers right back.

She was surprised that he would dare to do so and it took her a minute before she could speak. She just stared at him for a moment, the interested eyes of Secrets and David doing nothing to quell her rising temper. "I was doing no such thing," she said finally, defending herself.

Jack snorted and Stress' flushed angrily at the sound. "Yeah, you were. Ain't that right, Secrets?" Jack asked, turning to her for help.

Secrets just shrugged her shoulders, not trusting herself to say anything at the moment. She was planning on waiting until Jack and Stress were out of ear-shot before she brought up the matter to David.

Jack rolled his eyes. Secrets had been no help to him and David just stood there, staring down at his shoes. "Stress, I think you better come with me. We really need to talk."

But Stress just took her stack of papers and threw them at his feet. "I don't think so, Cowboy," she replied before turning and stalking off. No one could say she didn't have a flair for drama when she was upset.

Jack stared as she walked away, silent for a moment. Then, without warning, he muttered a single word: "Girls", before walking away in the opposite direction. Stress' papers were left forgotten, lying in the middle of the sidewalk.

"David?"

"Secrets, no. Not now," David said simply before shaking his head and continuing on down the street. He couldn't afford to toss aside his papers. After all, he had a family that was expecting this money. Just because Stress and Jack let their squabble ruin their newspaper selling, that didn't mean the Jacobs' were going to go hungry.

Secrets begrudgingly nodded her head and followed after David. No? Just what is he saying 'no' too?

Je savais qu'il était trop bon pour être vrai.

Secrets carefully drew the period after the "i" and laid down her pen, feeling much better now that she had her anxieties written out on paper. She re-read the last sentence and knew she was much more upset than she earlier realized. She finished the last bit of the entry entirely in French; as it was, she only turned to her native tongue when she couldn't put forth the energy to focus on her adopted language of English.

"Secrets?" She heard the voice call out from the other end of the bunkroom. Hastily shoving her journal back under her pillow, she stuck her outside of the bunk. "Yes?"

It was Stress. Her tan face was somewhat wan and her green eyes seemed clouded over in preoccupation. If she still wasn't so upset over the morning's occurrences she might have felt bad for the girl. Stress tentatively took a step forward. "Are you alright, Secrets? You seemed a little angry this morning while we were selling the papers."

Secrets had to fight the slight sneer that wanted to come to her face. So she noticed, eh? "I'm perfectly fine, Stress. And, mon ami, I believe that you were the one that seemed angry," she added, a bit more testily than she meant to.

Stress flinched at her tone of voice. "Are you sure?" she asked, narrowing her gaze. Secrets did not like the look she was receiving; she felt as if she were under scrutiny.

"I said I was fine, didn't I? Mon dieu, why don't you just leave me alone?" Secrets reached under her pillow and grabbed her journal before turning her blue eyes to Stress. She gave her a momentary glare before haughtily turning away. She rose from her bunk and the hurried from the bunkroom, all without another word.

Stress stood at the foot of Secrets' bunk, her cheeks flaming at Secrets' sudden outburst. "What the hell did I do?" she asked out loud. None of the other girls in the bunkroom had any answer for her. She shrugged her shoulders and headed towards the door. "Well, I guess I better go find Miss Frenchy and find out what that was all about."

- - -

Much later that night, Secrets found herself entering the Bottle Alley Home just before Mrs. Cook locked the doors for the night. She dragged her feet up the steps, going as slowly as she could so as not to bother her pounding head. When she finally entered the bunkroom, she ignored the questioning looks from the girls who hadn't fallen asleep yet. She cradled her head with one arm while clutching her worn journal protectively under the other as she sat down upon her bunk. From above her, she heard Holiday snore and winced. Even that slight noise bothered her.

"Quelle nuit," she murmured as she scooted back on her bunk until her back was pressed up against the wall. She sat for a moment, holding her head still. She still had one hell of a headache yet no memory of anything other than storming from the bunkroom earlier that evening. She had only just returned back to the Home, she knew that. But what else did she do? It had been hours since she ran out on the other girls. "Maybe I wrote down what I was doing."

She used her other hand to open her journal and lift the page up to her eyes. Right away, using the candle that Rae had going on the dresser between their bunks, she could see that there was a message. But the message was not written in her hand. It was from Kisses.

Layna,

I should be very mad at you. It's been three days since even thought about me and this journal. But, évidemment, I forgive you. Je fais toujours. And, just to show you how much I care about you, I'm going to take care of your problems. Fiez-vous à moi. You won't have to worry about Stress stealing all of David's attention from you anymore. Je Promets, mon cher.

Kisses

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Translations:

Mon journal précieux – My precious journal
Au moins je vous ai toujours – At least I still have you
Dites-moi - Tell me
Que? Me charriez-vous? Elle? - What? Are you kidding me? Her?
Seulement une semaine – Only a week
Je comprends – I understand
Nous devons prendre des choses lentes - We need to take things slow
possession sur – Holding onto
Est elle essayant de l'emmener de moi - Is she trying to take him away from me
Je devine non – I guess not
Mon ami ­– My friend
Mon dieu - My God
Quelle nuit – What a night
Je savais qu'il était trop bon pour être vrai - I knew it was too good to be true
Évidemment - Of course
Je fais toujours – I always do
Fiez-vous à moi - Trust me
Je Promets, mon cher – I promise, my dear