Author's Note: And, here is the fourth part of A Virgin's Touch. It is with this chapter, more than the others, that I truly earn my M rating. So, if you are uncomfortable with mentions of sexual scenes, you may not want to read. It is not explicit, due to the site's rules, but it is suggestive. I also have more than one language being used in this chapter. While the normal foreign language that I use in this story is Italian, I do have three lines in this chapter that are in Gaelic. They are noted in the translations part of this chapter. I hope you guys like this chapter. It was really hard for me to write and I'm glad I got past it.

Disclaimer: These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1992 musical Newsies, then it probably belongs to Disney. The characters of Luke/Rip & his family, Caitlin/Spindle, and Jessa, specifically, are mine, as well as others that may work their way into this story. Any others belong to their respective authors and will be noted in individual disclaimers.

Again, the character of Melody/Bittah is the creative property of the author, Bittersweet Harmony. Daisy is the property of me because I didn't want to subject anyone else to the role.

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A Virgin's Touch

06.07.06

They say that what men desire is a virgin who is a whore.
Maybe that's what I was looking for. It's what I made her, after all.

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PART IV

Melody, most unladylike, lifted her glass to her lips and drained it just then. With a loud smack, she put the glass down before lifting her right hand, pointer finger extended. "Red," she said and the large bartender nodded in her direction. So his name is Red, Luke thought as the man brought a bottle over to Melody's glass. The bottle, clear glass with a green label proclaiming the beverage to be "Bushmill's Irish Whiskey", poured out a rich golden liquid into Melody's cup. Red lifted the mouth of the bottle away from the glass when it was halfway filled. Melody rapped her knuckles against the wooden counter top. "More," she said, her speech already slightly slurred. Luke thought that the girl shouldn't have had so much to begin with. He watched the scene out of the corner of his eye, interested now. Red did not appear to be the type of person a sixteen year old girl told what to do, customer or not.

It seemed that the bartender agreed with Luke's silent assessment on Melody's state. Rather than backhand the girl for her sass, Red just pulled the whiskey bottle back and gazed down on Melody. There was a certain level of softness in his cold green eyes. "Bittah," he said, and his thick Irish brogue confirmed Luke's earlier suspicion. An Irishman, I thought so. "I think that you've had more than enough tonight, a cailín," he added, now looking kindly at her. It was a look quite opposite to the one he had bestowed upon Luke earlier. Melody must be a regular here, he realized.

Regardless of the familiarity that the bartender seemed to show her, Melody did not appreciate being talked down to like that. "You're not my fucking father, Red," she said, her sweet voice at odds with the dirty language she used, "so don't use your fancy Irish talk to tell me what to do. I said more, dammit."

As surprised as Luke was by her outburst, Red seemed used to it. "Ar ndóigh, Bittah," he agreed as he brought forth the whiskey bottle again. This time he filled the glass all the way to the rim before walking away to serve another customer at the end of the bar. As he went, Luke could hear him muttering under his breath, though he had no idea what the strange sounds meant. "Tá dúil sa deoch aici, Bittah bochta."

She rolled her eyes at his further use of his native language before lifting her glass back to her lips. She took a swig from it and, after she had placed it down upon the counter, she turned to Luke. "Good man, Red, when he ain't talking like a Goddamn mick. He should know better than to not talk American, right, kid?"

"Luke." He said his name out loud without even meaning to. So concerned with making sure that he kept all sorts of Italian from slipping out, he revealed his name to her. Which, he realized, was about time; after their brief meeting last week, he had discovered her Christian name and her nickname, but she still referred to him as 'kid'.

Melody swung around on her stool until she was facing him. A coy smile crossed her face as she repeated his name. "Luke." She drew out the single syllable and, when she was done, her eyes crinkled in amusement. "What? Were your folks religious fuddies or something? Gabriel and Luke, how Catholic of them." Still facing him, she reached behind her and grabbed at her drink. Her hand felt around for a few seconds before her fingers felt the smooth texture of the glass. She lifted it up and took another gulp.

Luke watched her with narrow eyes. While, moments ago, he had been almost fixated by the girl's actions – before this, the only girls he had had close contact with were his mother and sister and they were nothing like Melody – now he was finding himself detaching from her. Her singular mention of his parents was enough to do that. He got up from his stool.

The smile slid off of her face when he turned away from her, leaving his glass of sarsaparilla half-drunk. She placed her glass back down and reached out for Luke with her right hand. He went tense under her touch. "Where you going, Luke?" she said, a slight hiccup interrupting her question. The sadness in which she asked him, coupled with her touch, caused him to face her once more.

He opened his mouth to tell her to leave him alone but, upon meeting her muddled grey-blue eyes with his own icy cool ones, he found he couldn't. She had abandoned the hardened expressions that kept her guarded and, during that moment of vulnerability, Luke was reminded of his sister's innocence. And he could never talk back to Maria. Luke shook his head and his floppy black hair fell forward. "I have to go find Gabriel."

"Oh," she said and dropped her hand away from him. She spun back on her stool and stared forward. All of a sudden it occurred to Luke that it was Gabriel who was the reason behind her drunken state. Melody laughed hollowly before finishing off her whiskey. Instead of flagging down Red for other fill, she jerked her thumb behind her. "If you need Gabriel, just wait. He should be done soon."

Luke followed the direction in which she was gesturing. Her thumb pointed straight to the door in the back of the bar. To the door marked 'Private'.

Squinting through the smokiness that permeated the establishment, Luke eyed the door. Private? "Che cosa…?" he muttered, confused enough to say the words in his native tongue. He felt Melody's eyes on his back and, when he turned around, he saw that she was staring moodily at the door.

She didn't say anything about his use of Italian which made him think that she didn't hear him; she was quick to poke fun at Red earlier for his use of Gaelic. And she sure did not look like any young Italian girl that he had ever seen. He assumed that she was too far gone to pay attention to little things. That, or she was too upset with whatever Gabriel was doing behind that door. Luke thought that maybe he should ask Melody what was going on before abandoning that idea. It seemed much safer, given Melody's present mood, that he wait for Gabriel to come out of that door.

Neither one of them had to sit at the bar much longer before Gabriel came out. With both sets of eyes staring past the other patrons, they noticed it immediately when the door opened and a young man exited, fixing the top two buttons on his white shirt as he went.

"Gabriel?" Luke asked. He heard Melody let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Before he could turn his head to the side to see what was wrong with Melody, she got up from her stool and, pushing an entering couple aside, stormed out of the bar. Luke let her go. He was too interested to meet the woman who accompanied his brother out into the front of the bar.

She was shorter and slimmer than Gabriel but Luke could see, even through the smoke, that she was older than his brother. She wore a simple mauve robe that covered up everything but her arms, hands and feet. Her hair was pinned out of her face, a face that was covered in liberal amounts of rouge and powder. Without a doubt, Luke recognized his brother's companion; she was a harlot. No wonder Melody left.

When Gabriel spied Luke standing in the middle of the bar, the satisfied smirk he wore was swapped for one of surprise. "Fratello piccolo," he said, stretching his arms out in front of him. He was met with an expression of disgust and quickly dropped his arms. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring the interested look on the woman's face as she stood beside Gabriel, Luke turned the question around. "No, Gabriel, what are you doing here? Il mama morrebbe se sapesse." He crossed his arms over his chest and dared his brother to answer.

Gabriel looked taken aback at Luke's accusation but his surprise lasting only seconds. His blue eyes narrowed at Luke and they sparkled with mischief. "Calm down, Luke. She's just a friend of mine. A good friend. And I'd really like you to meet her," he added, with a suggestive smile.

Daisy understood Gabriel's comment before Luke did. She took a step away from Gabriel and sized up Luke with one of her dark brown eyes. She looked him up and down once before her deep red lips pursed and then widened into a predatory grin. "Oh, yes, Gabriel. I would love to meet him."

Luke uncrossed his arms and held up his hands, for once feeling as if he were on the other side of an argument – the losing side. He now knew what his brother was implying and what the result would be; if Luke accepted the woman's services than he would be as much at fault as his brother. He would have no choice but to keep Gabriel's secrets. "No, non potrei possibilmente," he said, more to Gabriel than to the heavily made-up woman that accompanied him. He could small the cheap perfume that mingled with the odor of sweat and was appalled. She appalled him.

Gabriel laughed and it was a sound that Luke had not heard come from his brother in quite some time. For some reason, it unnerved him to hear it now. He winked once at the woman before reaching forward and patting her hand. "Don't listen to him, Daisy. Just do the same for him that you do for me. My brother needs it," he added before taking his hand back. The woman, Daisy, nodded, her brown hair flopping slightly with the action.

Without a warning, one of Daisy's hands – surprisingly strong for a petite woman – wrapped around his upper arm. "Come with me, kid," she said huskily before leading him through the door. His last glimpse into the bar before Daisy shut the door behind them was Gabriel approaching the bar and taking the stool that Melody's quick flight had left vacant.

Contrary to his first assumption, there was not a room directly behind the door. Instead, there was a set of stairs leading upwards. Daisy let Luke go before her and, standing behind him, gently pushed him in the back whenever he stalled on a step.

At the top of the stairs, there was a landing that branched off into two directions, each with their own door. Daisy gestured to the door on the left. Luke hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. She followed him in.

The room was small and was only furnished with a bed and a small night table. There was a single candle resting on top of the table shedding a slight haze over the small bed, already tussled from earlier activity.

Daisy shut the door behind her and smiled over at Luke. With one of her thick fingers, she pointed at his chest. "First thing you gotta do is strip," she said, rising one of her dark eyebrows at him. To prove her point, she shed the mauve robe that she had worn downstairs. As the fabric fell onto the wooden floor of the small room, Luke saw the full form of a naked woman for the first time. His reaction was almost immediate. Even in the limited light, Daisy could make out the bulge in his tan pants. "Strip," she echoed, her lips curled even more so. She was enjoying herself.

Luke hesitated but did what he was told. He couldn't see any reason to disobey the woman.

Slowly, and nervously, he undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. His pants followed and then he lifted his hands to his shirt. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the woman, as natural as she was. He wasn't sure what to do next but that was not a problem. As soon as his clothing was in a pile, Daisy took an appreciative look at the boy before blowing the candle out. For a novice, she found that the dark was better.

Luke heard the faint whine of the bed's springs as Daisy climbed on top of it. He took the sound as his cue to join her. As soon as his bare flesh made contact with the rough quilt that adorned it, he tensed. In an effort to relax the boy, Daisy sought out his hand in the dark. Once she had it, she led it up until his clammy hand was resting on her breast. He grew even tenser at that.

Then, her hands free, Daisy straddled him so that her legs were on both sides of him before beginning to explore his bony chest. As the flesh of her palms rubbed up against his nipples, Luke shuddered and began to relax. He began to breathe heavily and she could tell that he was enjoying himself.

The last thing he remembered before he gave himself over to her sensual touch was the feel of her hand. Compared to the delicacy of her other features, her hands were rather large and rough. And those hands – as mannish as he could tell they were amidst the darkness – were slowly caressing his chest.

Despite his obvious inexperience and initial hesitation, Daisy, too, enjoyed herself in her ministrations. And the five dollars that Gabriel has slipped her before telling her to do the same thing to his brother that she did for him did not diminish her enjoyment at all.

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When it was all over, Luke found himself lying on his back, the coarse blanket biting into his bare shoulder, the weight of her arm draped across him. He felt drained, both emotionally and physically, and, for a few moments, he had a hard time digesting what had just happened. It wasn't until that woman, that Daisy, lifted her arm and scooted to the edge of the bed, that he understood what he had done. He had just handed his own innocence over to a whore. And Gabriel had done the same earlier that night. He was lying in the same bed that Gabriel had laid in with this woman. It was no wonder that Melody was upset if she knew what occurred behind the door. She obviously cared for his brother and what had his brother done? Gone to a whore instead.

He could hear Daisy as she opened the drawer of the night table next to the bed. She rummaged around the contents of the drawer for a few seconds before her butch hands found what she was looking for: matches. She struck a single match and lit the wax candle that sat atop the side table. Right away the dim room was bathed in light; Luke was surprised to see how tired Daisy looked this close. She was older than him, maybe eighteen or nineteen, though the excess make-up she wore served to make her seem much older. He could only tell that she wasn't as old as she tried to pass for due to the softness of her skin. She had no wrinkles and her hair, the muddy brown color that it was, was natural and not colored.

She retook her place in the bed next to him, facing him while propped up on her elbow. She was still nude and Luke had to fight to keep his eyes from straying downward. He kept on his back – it was much safer to stare at the ceiling.

"Your first time, kid?" she asked and he noticed that her voice has lost the seductive hint that had been there when she spoke to him earlier. Luke nodded, his eyes still on the ceiling. The flickering flame was casting interesting shadows and shapes against the dirty wall. He had to work hard to keep from finding obscene images within the darkness. Sono stato corrotto, he thought wildly, wondering whether or not he should just gather his clothes and leave.

Daisy was used to silence following her services, especially when her client was a virgin. She just reached out and began to lazily trace his upper chest; he had covered the rest of himself in embarrassment after he had gone limp. "Don't worry," she said, and Luke began to despise hearing the sound of her voice. With every syllable she uttered, she made him feel all the dirtier. "Your brother didn't even last as long as that his first time."

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Translations:

A cailín – My girl (a Gaelic translation)
Ar ndóigh – Of course (a Gaelic translation)
Tá dúil sa deoch aici, Bittah bochta - She is partial to drink, poor Bittah (a Gaelic translation)
Che cosa…? – What the…?
Fratello piccolo – Little brother
Il mama morrebbe se sapesse – Mama would die if she knew
No, non potrei possibilmente – No, I couldn't possibly
Sono stato corrotto – I've been corrupted