Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Newsies characters mentioned in this piece; I do, however, stake claim to Jess Kelly, Frankie Kelly, Reagan Malloy and a whole mess of other characters (such as Johnny Conlon and the Finn brothers) that will most likely pop up throughout this work.

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Part Five

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Boots laughed loudly, slapping his knee with the one hand not on the steering wheel, as Jess finished explaining away everything that had happened down at the holding cell; the driver was amused at Jack's ill-thought out attempt to kill the lieutenant. "You tried to off a copper in a police station, Boss? What were you thinking?"

"Keep your eyes on the road, Boots," Jack demanded before frowning. He leaned back into the leather seat and shook his head. "Besides, what would you expect me to do? That bastard had his paws on my wife and I wasn't about to just stand there and watch him do it," he said, trying to defend himself.

"And dumb ass here didn't think I could defend myself," Jess added coolly. Jack gave her a pleading look—he hated it when she took that tone of voice with him—but she refused to meet his brown eyes. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out a thin black cigarette holder, pausing briefly to insert a cigarette in the tip before lighting it.

"It's not that—wait, what are you doing?" Jack snapped, snatching the lit cigarette from the holder. His actions came before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, the result being that his fingertips were consequently burnt from the fiery embers of the cigarette. He dropped it to the floor of the car, waving his fingers like mad so that the wind he was generating cooled the tips. "I thought I told you that you weren't allowed to smoke."

Jess scoffed as she placed another cigarette in the holder. She did not light it straight away, though; she snorted, quite unladylike, instead. "Francis Sullivan, who do you think you are, telling me what to do?"

Jack ignored the use of his birth name—he had changed it from Francis to Jack so many years ago but it still hurt to be called that—while snatching at Jess' second cigarette. She had been expecting the action; the cigarette was still unlit. "I'm your goddamn husband, Jessa, and I don't want to see my wife walking around with a foul cigarette in her mouth."

"But you smoke," she argued, a perfect pout forming on her face.

"And that's beside the point," Jack announced as he leaned forward and kissed his wife on the cheek. Then, noticing that Boots had returned his eyes on the bickering couple instead of the road, he became stern. "Boots, what are you doing? I told you to keep your eyes on the damn road," he said, leaning forward in his seat to scold his lackey.

With his attention no longer focused on her, he gave Jess the perfect opportunity to pick up the lit cigarette that Jack had left on the floor of the sedan. She put it to her lips and took a long drag, holding the smoke in. It was not until her husband stopped lecturing Boots and sat back in his seat that she blew the smoke directly into his scowling face. "Jess…" he began warningly and turned his scowl into a satisfied smirk as Jess sighed and reluctantly tossed the cigarette out of the car.

"There. Happy, Cowboy?"

"Jess, that hurts." Jack hated it when she used his old newsie nickname on him. It made him feel guilty.

"Well, you deserve it, I say. I spent my whole day in a damn cell and all you can say to me is 'don't smoke'. I bet you don't even want to know who I saw down at the station," Jess said, sounding a bit more than annoyed as she placed her chin on a perfectly manicured hand and stared out the open window.

"I'm sorry, Jess, really. Sometimes I just get in my boss mode where I start telling everyone what to do. I mean, there I was having a business meeting with two of my boys when Frankie and Mush came by and told me that you went and got yourself arrested. What happened, dear?" Jack finished his question and reached for Jess' hand, lovingly caressing her cheek with his other hand. "And if that bastard treated you any less than you deserve, that prick Sherman will find himself wishing he did not tangle with Jack Kelly."

Jess sighed and moved her face out of his reach. "Not this again, Jack. If I told you once, I told you a million times. I can handle myself."

"Like you handled yourself with Rip Divenize?" Jack sat back against his seat and turned his head so as not to see her reaction; it was never a good idea to mention the only man who had ever caused his wife problems before she settled down with him.

She looked stunned, then hurt but the vulnerable expressions melted away to fierce anger within seconds. Before Jack understood the magnitude of his words, Jess began to yell at him. "You know what, Jack? Forget it! Forget that you ever came down to the station to get me. Forget you ever cared about me. Forget that I saw Les Jacobs down at that station. Just forget it everything, you big goon!" Jess threw her hands up as she continued to raise her voice with every word. Finally, she took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, before leaning forward to speak to the driver. "Boots, stop this car right now. I'm getting out."

Jack watched, almost daring her to do what she threatened to do, as Boots, being the ever obedient lackey he was, slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. Then, before Jack could say or do anything to stop her, Jess swung her door open and climbed out of the car. "Goodbye, Mr. Sullivan, and good day," she spat before storming away.

He watched her for a moment before realizing what had happened. The mention of David Jacobs' kid brother confused him at first and he stopped to try to figure out what she meant before figuring he had just heard wrong. Then, as he sat, almost dumbfounded, in the car, it dawned on him that his wife was walking off on him. He sighed heavily and climbed out of the car. "Jess? Jessa Kelly, get your ass back here!"

Her only response was to continue to walk away from him, making as if she did not even hear his calls.

Jack continued to stand just outside of the car, marveling at just how stubborn one woman could be. And, yet, that was one of the qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place—not many women would storm away from their mob boss of a husband just to prove a point. Then again, he wasn't about to let her, either.

He began to jog off in the direction Jess had gone in. "Boots," he called over his shoulder to where Boots still had the car idling, "I want you to drive around town and see if you can find Jess before I do. I'm gonna continue going after her. I don't think she understands how dangerous it is for her to be running around by herself right now, so we gotta find her—and quick!"

"No problem, Boss. I'm on it," Boots replied promptly before pulling back onto the road and driving off.

"Good," Jack muttered as he continued to go after his wife on foot. Once he caught up to her, he promised himself, the two of them were going to have a very long talk. Or, better yet, she would have a very long listen.

If it wasn't for the fact that she was his damn wife, he would kill her sometimes.

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"Of course he had to go and bring up Luke Divenize. Damn it, Jack, that was over twenty years ago. Why can't you trust me?" Jess angrily crossed her arms over her chest, trying hard to resist the urge to throttle something. Sometimes that husband of hers just made her so crazy.

"Hey lady, do you mind?"

Jess turned around and raised her eyebrows when she saw a young couple sitting on a bench right behind her. "Actually, I do mind. What are you going to do about it, boy?" Jess countered, looking down upon the two. What were they going to do to her, anyway? She was Jessa Kelly and no one told her what to do—especially that domineering man she called her husband.

"Look, lady, my friend and I here are trying to have a nice little chat and it's hard for us to concentrate while you're huffing and ranting all over the place. I suggest you take your noise elsewhere." The young dark-haired man stood up from the bench, ignoring the protests of the petite blonde sitting with him, and approached Jess.

Jess, though easily six inches shorter than the man, walked forward and stared up at him. "Look, boy," Jess scolded, her green eyes twinkling as she saw him scowl. If he was going to treat her like an old lady, she would treat him like a little boy. "I think you ought to treat your betters with a little respect, don't you?"

"Oh yeah, lady? And what is a little old thing like you going to do to me?" he asked, before giving her a rough shove.

The push sent her stumbling backwards but she quickly recovered. "That was not polite, son," Jess said warningly before she brought her arm back and let loose with a right hook that, when she was younger, had done plenty of damage.

There were two cracks as her fist made contact with the boy's face; it was hard to tell who was worse off following the strike. The young man reeled backwards, clutching his jaw, as he spit out venomously at Jess, "You old broad. I'm going to fucking get you for that."

Jess was shaking her aching hand but refused to give the boy the satisfaction of seeing how much that hit cost her; she brought a grin to her face instead. She did take a step away from him, just in case, but, before she could say anything in response to his threat, another person entered the clearing. "Jess?"

"Go away, Jack." The triumphant grin faded from her face as she turned to stare stonily at her husband. Unfortunately, this left her vulnerable to any attack from the young man who was currently glaring furiously at her.

As Jess and Jack stared at each other, neither prepared to apologize first, the young man came up with a tactic for revenge. Slowly he crept up behind Jess, hiding a rather large rock that he had found behind his back. But, before he could lift the rock up and drop it on Jess, Jack noticed the movement behind his wife. "Jess, watch out!"

What happened next seemed to play out in slow motion. Just as Jack finished his sentence, Jess turned around to see the man standing right behind her, rock positioned high in the air. At the same moment, Jack reached into his breast pocket, withdrew his pistol and fired one shot at the man who threatened his wife.

As the shot rang out in the air, time seemed to right itself. Jess ducked, covering her head with her hands, as the man dropped the rock and crumpled to the ground. Jack kept his hold on the gun, clasping it tightly in his right hand, as he raced to his wife's side; she was trembling ever so slightly as she knelt on the grass. He crouched down, threw his arms around her and held onto her tightly. "Are you okay, Jessie?"

"I'm—I'm fine," she said, grinning in spite of herself at the mention of Jack's pet name for her, "but I don't think that kid is, though."

Jack gently let go of her and spun around so that he was looking over the body of the young man he had shot. Reaching for the kid's wrist, he paused for a moment before sighing. "He's dead, Jess."

Upon those words, a shriek pierced the night air. The woman—girl, really—that had been with the dead man seemed to have just realized what had happened and was screaming as loud as she possibly could.

Author's Note: Just a little note. In case you are not familiar with prior stories centered on Jack and Stress (and there are a bunch, woot!), Luke 'Rip' Divenize is a major character. It is not necessary to know who he is, precisely, for this mention, but - if you do - it's kind of a bit of a tie in. Just thought I would share.