Chapter 2: Chalk

Ever since yesterday's office quarrel with the very expressive secretary, Davey hadn't been able to rid the nasal ping of her voice from his brain. Her high-pitched words kept replaying in his mind like a broken record "And I thought you were the chivalrous Newsboy." His face crinkled together. She was truly the most irritating woman he had ever met and he had worked with Katharine Plumber of all people. Fate was a cruel mistress because the very madame he wished to forget was the very one that seemed to latch onto all his thoughts.

Due to this, he had purposefully avoided the Bowery because he suspected that her scandalous costume had originated from some sort of provoking dance establishment. Waiting outside for Les had proved to be a smart move because he'd been able to sell the rest of his papes to the men that entered. Apparently debatably sober men were quite willing to get their hands on the World's latest paper. That newfound nugget of knowledge was one he'd hold onto for the future.

Davey heard the metal of the doorknob clatter against the plaster before he saw his kid brother. Les looked as happy as a kid on Christmas morning with a wide daydreamy smile. A look that the young boy only possessed after seeing a certain strawberry blonde named Sally. Davey swore that young love was the purest kind of love.

Waiting for Les to snap out of his daze, Davey toyed with the silk of his striped tie. Letting the smooth material slide down his hand like a glacier down a hill.

Les shook his head out once and then faced his brother "My two-month anniversary with Sally is almost up, can we pick up more papes?"

"You need to say the magical word first," said Davey.

Les smiled so wide that all his pearly whites were on display "Please!"

Davey couldn't say no to that childish smile. So he let out a sigh and turned towards downtown "I sold all of mine so yes Les."

The little boy squealed in excitement practically running down the street all the way to distribution gates. Davey being responsible for the little rascal, followed him there.

As per usual the iron gate was still wide open. Both of the Delancey brothers guarded Wiesel's counter with their arms crossed and eyebrows flexed downwards. Fedoras crooked and suspenders still holding up slightly crinkled white dress shirts. They looked as if they could strike up a fight at any given moment. It was almost the same as the first day he and Les started selling papes. Except it wasn't because she was there.

The corseted secretary from yesterday was at the top of the scaffolding. In her hand which didn't have a ring on any finger was a sliver of chalk. She was writing in a cursive style that looked gorgeously swirled but similar enough to standard letters so that the Newsies could read it. This time she had far more clothes on.

A long black skirt with a subtle vertical felt line pattern that striped the charcoal fabric. The darkness of the skirt cinched around her waist. Making it appear so petit that he could grasp her entire waist with both of his hands. Then there was her blouse that was cream and cuffed at the wrist with a button. Strips of delicate white lace decorated each side of the buttons corresponding with the pattern of differently sized stripes that also decorated the blouse. Around her finely pressed collar was a dark grey tie held up and folded in the middle by a pearl pin. Finally, her autumn leaf-coloured hair was done up in a half up half down style like Katharine had the first day she stormed into the deli.

He had made a strong attempt to avoid her and yet fate seemed to spite him. Why couldn't a guy get a break from her clever wordy attacks? He tore his gaze away from her. This was eerily similar to the start of Katharine and Jacks' love story. That made his fists clench up like he was preparing to throw a punch. He would not under any circumstances fall in love with Hannah Hart. Even if her waistline was wispy and her hair long.

There was tugging at the bottom of his vest, little Les fingers were pulling at the light grey material. Recentering his gaze on his brother, Davey pried clammy fingers off of him and fished through his pocket till he came up with 2 quarters and pressed them into Les's palm. Before Davey could even motion his arm towards the cart Les skipped there with his hands hooked under his red suspenders.

Suddenly the scaffolding rattled like the earth beneath it was quaking. If this was an earthquake then he needed to get Les and take cover. What would happen to the secretary, atop an unstable structure? Then he looked up and all his worry evaporated. Hannah was trying to reach the top right corner of the chalkboard. Her arms were too short so she was jumping up in the air trying to make the chalk land higher up on the board. His muscles twitched like they wanted to spring into action. Run all the way up the wobbly scaffolding stairs and come to the rescue of the damsel.

He recalled that this damsel in distress was annoying Hannah Hart. Instead of thanking him with a kiss on the cheek, she'd probably call him a filthy rug rat. Even after the reflection he still felt a somewhat strong pull to help her. So he carefully stepped onto the landing and gripped the railings as he climbed the swaying steps.

As she landed back on her feet for the millionth time, the black corner of the board was still bare. The tiny hairs and nerves on the back of her neck lit up like a Christmas tree causing her to lurch forward in shock.

"Two days in a row, it must be fate."

The sound of his smooth voice made her turn around sharply. With a red face and finger pointed towards him, she looked about ready to commit murder. Specifically Davey's murder. She craned her head up to look at him, "Leave me alone."

Instead, he walked forwards until he stood a breath apart from her. Even in heels, she was still a smidge under a foot shorter than him. Her face was practically smothered by his navy tie and checkered shirt chest. Ceasing her nostrils shut she anticipated the smell of boyish body odour but was met with the sweet fragrance of lavender. Normally newsies didn't own a bar of soap so he was the best smelling Newsie she had ever met, but she would never admit to it. She was secretly thankful for being hidden within the cover of his chest because her lips were curved in a slight smile.

As she remained dead quiet, Davey was careful to not rest his jaw on her crown as he grabbed the chalk. Easily pulling it from her grasp. He also got a whiff of creamy vanilla, from her hair he presumed. Before he could pull away she tried to seize the chalk back, quickly reaching for his hand. Yanking it away he held it high above her head.

Smiling at his newfound literal leverage over her he spoke, "I would gladly step away from you, but you look like you need help."

"Great, the Newsboy has a hero complex," she sneered. Hannah refused to call him his real name. He was just too much of a nuisance to deal with.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked blue eyes, ignoring her poking comment.

She huffed at his rhetorical question but then proceeded to answer it, "Someone keeps spelling the headline wrong so Mr. Pulitzer told me to come and fix it." Holding her palm out open she waited for him to return her sliver of chalk. The opposite happened, Davey's light blue gingham shoulder pushed her out of the corner. He sure smelled nice but still lacked proper manners.

With a single reach of his long arms, he finished spelling out the phrase "Governor Rosevelt proposes social programs."

Looking away from him she spoke, "You know the headline?"

"I am a Newsie after all."

Her jaw clenched up, he was using her own words against her. Regardless of his strategic wordplay, she still wondered where he had learned to cursively write like that. "I would thank you but I really didn't need saving."

"Then don't."

Long fingers, Davey's fingers returned the chalk to the rim of the wooden chalkboard. After hearing that clunk Hannah gently pulled her skirt up past her ankles as she stepped to the side and away from Davey's chest. Making it down onto the metal steps, she only made it three steps before the heel of her shoe got lodged in one of the circular holes in the step. God this only fueled her dislike for scaffolding to a greater extent. Normally she would have been looking down at her feet but the way that Davey's grey vest clung to his pectoral muscles made her oddly intrigued. Like a little kid's fascination with forbidden wine.

He was irritating but terribly easy on the eyes. A very dangerous combination.

As she fell back warm arms hooked themselves under her armpits stopping her fall. Slowly they lowered her head to rest on the cool step.

"You're pretty clumsy for a dancer." Brown dress shoes made their way down past her. Sitting on the step below her, his dark eyebrows relaxed. Before he could speak again she did.

"Your eyes are quite the sight." She paused, admiring their lightness. They were clear blue like arctic ice and they took her breath away. After a moment of silence, she began to breathe again, "For a jerk."

Her name-calling snapped him away from whatever he was staring at. Her piercing stares made his palms sweat like crazy. He was sure it was out of fear of being insulted to death.

With none of her permission, he peeled her skirt up to her calf revealing lace stockings. Really living up to his rough no manners Newsie persona. The touch of his fingers made her lower spine tingle.

He asked, "Are you hurt?" Delicately his hand curled under the back of her ankle. She was glad he was focused on her foot because his touch affected her too visibly too much. Such lack of composure was unladylike and disgraceful. Especially because she despised his words and yet craved to be touched again by him.

"Earth to Secretary"

"I think it's bruised but I won't be certain till I put my full weight on it."

Then like at the end of Cinderella, he slowly pushed the black heel out of the step and held her shoe. Their eyes met for a moment. Aquamarine to vibrant clover green. No hate or annoyance hung between them, just an unfamiliar tenderness. Unbeknownst to them, in that moment two hearts shared a beat.

Les's playful yell broke the steady rhythm of their hearts.

"Davey, she's a really pretty lady."

Both their heads snapped down to the ten-and-a-half-year-old. Almost as if they had coordinated it, the Newsie and the Secretary burst into a bright pink blush.

"Be careful when you stand and I'll be at your side."

He stood up, hands leaving her shoe. Putting each hand on the railing she pulled herself upright. Faster than she could even put her foot down Davey's arm folded itself under hers. As soon as her weight returned to her little black shoe it was tender. Her entire body winced slightly, he caught her.

"It's just bruised, a few days of ice and I'll be good."

Down below both Oscar and Morris looked up and sprang into action.

Davey nodded and they descended the staircase with her leaning into his chest in silence. When they got to the landing Les looked memorized and the Delancy's mad. Oscar blocked the steps that lead off of the scaffolding.

He snarled, "If you hurt her."

"We will break you," Morris flashed a brass glint from his knuckles.

The brother retreated from the steps shortly after but still stood side by side like a brick wall. Allowing Davey to help Hannah back onto the ground. Les was still speechlessly staring at her.

"I'm fine, I tripped." She was reasoning with the two bodyguard men. Placing her hand on Oscar's shoulder and the other on Morris's bladed knuckles. They both let the tension in their shoulders fall and then they separated. Letting the pathway be clear once more.

They only obeyed Hannah for a brief moment because within seconds Morris turned towards Les while Oscar got in Davey's face.

"When Pulitzer is furious over his wounded secretary I will gladly tell him it was all pretty boy's fault."

Where was Jack and his backbone when you needed him? Davey could already imagine the purple bruises on his face and the scratches that would turn into crusty scabs. Worst of all he wouldn't be able to protect Les from the same fate. Luckily Hannah intervened as Morris raised his fist to Davey's face.

"Enough he helped me so cut him some slack. Instead of fighting like animals can one of you please walk me home."

The goons blushed peach pink after her offer. So Hannah was the thugs' weakness. Davey took a mental note of that precious information. Oscar took her by the arm with an Alpha male look in his cold navy eyes. Davey felt a tinge of a sting, why didn't she ask him to walk her home? Shoving one hand deep into his pocket he used the other to grab Les by the arm and drag him out through the gates.

The little boy stood there paralyzed on the dusty sidewalk Davey tapped his cheek, "Snap out of it."

Les blinked his eyes a few times before speaking softly like he was addressing an angel, "That was the girl from the Bowery, the one with the pretty legs that danced right in front of us."

Davey recalled it all. At first, he'd been furious that Jack would expose Les to such a place. But then he saw Katharine sitting up in a booth. Seeming lost in a world of words as she scribbled away and a light brown curl fell onto her forehead. His fingers twitched to brush it away. Davey didn't even know her name and yet he wanted to be a part of her world. Something about her screamed adventure and passion.

Girly giggles broke his trance, Les stood starry eye and hip height of two sparkly dancers. His tiny hand was about to grace her bare knee. Davey pulled his brother's hand away and when he looked up to apologize. It was Hannah's face and defined cheekbones smiling at him. Before he could stop himself his eyes wandered over her corset. Heat rose to his cheeks and something else to his pants. Flustered, he nodded at Medda missing what she had said and found a felt seat.

After he had calmed down completely he zoned out on the girls dancing. The booth across the stage caught his attention again. There she sat in a purple suit looking like she was going to change the world and there Jack Kelly stood behind her. Davey couldn't explain it but in that moment he knew Katharine would never be his.

He felt guilty for not paying attention to the Bowery Beauties dance but who could blame him for being memorized by Katharine Plumber.

Les snapped his fingers in his older brother's face, "Davey."

He stretched his neck from side to side and then blinked a few times. Fastening his canvas Newspaper bag onto his shoulder he began strolling. "Yes?" said Davey behind his shoulder.

Les had to run to keep up and maintain pace with Davey, "You paused, if you're gonna fall in love, fall in love with her."

Davey stopped dead in his tracks. "Why?"

"Because she'll never break your heart."

"How can you be so certain?"

"It's in her eyes."

"Whatever, let's hurry, these papes won't sell themselves." Davey took Les's hand and started leading him down the sidewalk towards the sunset.

A/N Fun fact the heel of my shoe did actually get caught in the scaffolding during the show while I was a bowery beauty. (The steps had these tiny holes in them for some reason)So both Les and Davey came over and pretended to ogle me while in reality prying my shoe out of the step and lifting me off of it. To this day I am still indebted to those cast members for that stage save :)