Disclaimer: I don't own anything...although, if it weren't for those lawyers, there'd be some changes made around here...

A/N: Erm...where do I start? I have the distinct feeling sorry will not be good enough...

Ok. Writer's block is evil. The fact that the plot bunnies went on holiday doesn't help either.

But anyway. Mine is not to reason why, mine is but to write or die.

And write I shall. New chapter. Everyone rejoice! The Artful Doger shall open a window for you all, on the doings and happenings in Spittlefields at this present time, and we shall get an insight into what that sneaky Tom Doyle is doing, how Charlie acts when he's drunk, how Lettie acts when she's mad, and once and for all, the dangers that Cordelia inadvertantly does to Dodger's health. Of course, we all know he secretly enjoyed it...

On with the show!

That was the week that Dodger, Lettie and Charlie were introduced to Albert Slater and the world of colour, sights and sounds that was the 'carnival', as he called it, that he run.

Techincally, he didn't run it. The brothel, as it really was, belonged to Tom Cadwell, the genial, bumbling bartender of the Three Cripples, but as he could barely run the bar without help, he stayed far away from the brothel upstairs.

Then there was Daniel Barnett. Skinny as a skeleton, with ragged black hair and a gaunt face, he danced around the tables of the Three Cripples like a merry apparition. He was haunting, in that kind of mystical way that made you shudder, but he conjured magic tricks and told jokes which, if they were amusing, always had a black centre to it. He helped Tom from running the Three Cripples into the ground (though none of the children were actually sure what he did for a living – Dodger was sure he had never seen Daniel get paid) and enjoyed entertaining the three children when, in the evenings, Fagin would leave them there. So, for the next three years, in the evenings, the boys and Lettie would spend some time in the 'dressing rooms' of the girls who worked above the Three Cripples.

The lads, Dodger in particular, were exceptionally relieved when they found out that Lettie wouldn't have to 'do anything'.

"I've persuaded Albert to let Lettie stay away from the actual work for a bit," Daniel had intoned to Dodger in a low voice, "He does have some morals, although you have to dig deep to find 'em," The man frowned at Dodger's reassured look, "A year or two, Dodge, maybe three. That's all she has, and I suggest you work hard at helping that girl while you have 'em. And keep an eye open. Not all customers come here for just sex, you understand."

Dodger understood all too well. About a month after that conversation with Daniel, Tom Doyle started spending a lot more time in the company of Lettie….

-0000000-

Dodger rubbed his head furiously. In honour of Lettie's twelfth birthday (or at least, her adopted birthday – none of the children could ever remember when their birthday was) Fagin had let the children stay up past their bed-time and let them stay in the Three Cripples. Dodger and Charlie had taken advantage of the kind nature of their benefactor, and started drinking as much as they possibly could. Four hours later, and to Dodger, the room had turned uncommonly blurred.

"I don't recall…" He mumbled, his words slurring slightly in his mouth, "…how…how the room got all…funny. Spinny."

Charlie fixed his best friend with a calculating glance, which isn't easy when you're seeing double, "You've had too much gin," He hiccupped, " 'S bad for you. Get drunk. Head hurts," He tried to sit down, managed to wrong judge the distance between himself and his chair, and fell down with a bump, "Ow."

Dodger snickered, almost falling over himself, "You're clumsy," He informed the boy, now lying on the floor with an expression of bewilderment on his face, "Where's…whatshername. Birthday girl. Lettie."

"Gone," Charlie garbled, attempting to pull himself up by a bar stool and failing, "Tom. Scumbag. Somewhere."

The words 'Tom' and 'somewhere' failed to make any impression on the Dodger. The gin, however, did.

"Going out. Getting some…some fresh air. Outside."

Staggering slightly, Dodger managed to make his way past the patrons of the Three Cripples and out into the street, where the night air of London swirled around him, doing little good. Sighing, Dodger tripped over to the wall and sat down on a beer keg, blinking furiously. This so-called fresh air was completely overrated…

"…keep quiet Lettie! You want to get grabbed, stupid?"

Dodger frowned, blinking. In the shadows, two figures were standing uncommonly close to each other, one almost enclosing the other.

"Sorry, Tom," The other mumbled, sounding scared stiff, "Is everyone else inside?"

The first figure, who seemed to be preoccupied with something else, uttered a quiet oath, "Didn't I tell you to keep quiet? Yes, they're all inside. Your little friend Dodger's drunk stupid."

Lettie, who was starting to sound as though she herself was slightly tipsy, giggled, "Dodge is…is…stupid. And I'm cold."

Tom swore loudly, yanking Lettie's hair and kissing her harshly, "Shut up, will yer?"

Lettie shifted slightly, "Do I have to?"

"You're an adult, ain't you? Course you do!"

"M'only twelve."

Tom sighed impatiently, "That's old enough for me. I won't make you do anything that'll get you into trouble, alright? Just come with me."

Charlie reeled out of the pub, just as the two figures disappeared, "Alright, Do…Do…Dodger?"

Dodger realised he had been clenching his hands into fists, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"That's the gin," Charlie clapped his friend on the back, "What you need, Dodger, is to realise you can't always hold your liquor……"

-0000000-

"It makes me sick," Dodger had muttered to Charlie as the pair of them (now sober) conversed in low whispers, while the rest of the boys and Lettie were asleep, "the way he treats her, you'd think she was some sort of rag doll. I don't know what she sees in him, I really don't."

Charlie had shrugged, pulling his blanket further around his shoulders, "Maybe she thinks she don't have no choice," The boy mumbled, and refused to expand further on the subject.

Charlie, in his own stupid, infuriating manner, was starting to do that a lot, Dodger had observed. The many conversations that they had when everyone else was asleep (usually about girls, money, girls, life, and…girls) were starting to get punctuated with Charlie mumbling 'never mind', 'it doesn't matter' and, on one occasion, 'if you're too dumb to work it out, I shan't tell you'. Not even the threat of giving him up to the traps would get Charlie to tell, and Dodger had the most horrible of suspicions that this was what Fagin would refer to as 'growing up'.

That was another thing, Dodger recalled, that was changing in Spittlefields. More and more, Fagin would be making dire warnings, or amused comments, about the perils of 'growing up'. He had also, to Dodger's extreme irritation, started muttering a little saying under his breath that would get him in fits of laughter…

-0000000-

"Gimme it back!"

Dodger stood, dangerously balanced, on the kitchen table, soaring over Lettie's outstretched hands and landing neatly at the other end, almost crashing into Fagin's account books.

"You're going to have to come and get it, Lettie!" Dodger catcalled gleefully, as he bounded from chair to chair, and then finally to the table again, "'S lovely writing," He commented, pretending to read the book he had in his hand.

"What would you know about it Dodger? You can't even read."

Dodger flung the book across to Charlie, who Lettie chased twice around the kitchen, before clambering onto the settee and bouncing just out of the incensed girl's reach, "It's ours now Lettie!"

"Neither…of…you…read!" Lettie squealed, stamping her foot for every word, "Gimme it back! DODGER!"

Jumping to catch the book, Dodger made a spectacular leap through the kitchen door, landing in a heap at Lettie's feet.

The girl is not happy, Dodger thought, as Lettie glowered furiously at him, not happy at all….

"Dodger!" Lettie whined, "That's my book……what could you possibly want with it?"

"Nothin'," Dodger shrugged, getting to his feet and turning to Charlie, "except it's funny to see you in such a strop…OW!"

Dodger let out a yelp as Lettie made a valiant jump and grabbed hold of his shoulders, pulling herself up. Charlie snickered, "You look as though you're giving her a piggy-back, Dodge."

"Very funny," Dodger snarled, twisting and turning in an attempt to throw Lettie off. Lettie, for her part, stuck like a limpet, "Lettie, get off me!"

Charlie's cheerful look turned to one of alarm. As Dodger squirmed, Lettie was bumped into things – the bookcase, the desk, and more importantly, Master Charles Bates…

"Ow!" Charlie wailed, as Lettie and Dodger went crashing into him, knocking him off his perch. The boy, who had collapsed onto his back, was at the bottom of a pile, consisting of him lying underneath Lettie, who in turn was underneath Dodger.

Muttering under his breath, Fagin hobbled out from his makeshift bedroom to investigate the source of noise, "What's going on out here, my dears? Dodger, you'll wake our neighbours, with your caterwauling."

"Fagin, tell Dodger to get off me!"

"Get off you! You wouldn't get off me!"

"Well, you stole my book!"

"Will both of you please get off me?"

"SHUT UP CHARLIE!"

Fagin shook his head, almost mournfully, and sighed, "One day, Leticia my dear, you'll have to make a decision about these two fine gentlemen," He commented, making the three look up, "You know the old saying – 'two's company, three's a crowd'…" And with that, the old thief burst into wheezing laughter.

As Lettie and Dodger made disgusted faces, Charlie rolled his eyes, looking thoroughly exasperated, "That's all very well and good, Fagin," He said coolly, "but if you will pay attention to the facts, I'm not the one with my head in Lettie's lap."

And as Lettie let out a yelp, and Dodger began to think of why hadn't he noticed that before, and how had he actually landed with his head in Lettie's lap, and why wasn't he moving his head then, well, because it felt quite nice, actually, and that was fine when he thought about it, yes, but Lettie was yelling at him, so why didn't he move, Charlie and Fagin just laughed and laughed and laughed.

-0000000-

It was ridiculous, Dodger thought, how they carried on. It was almost as though they thought he was keen on her, or something like that.

Which he wasn't. At all. Not at all. No way. Definitely not. Absolutely not. No fear. Out of the question. No.

Those odd, swirling feelings he sometimes got in the pit of his stomach were probably just…just….just the food that Fagin gave them, was all.

Exactly.

No question about it.

Definitely.

Well….possibly, at least.

If it hadn't been for that dammed nightdress, he would have been able to think about Lettie with an absolute clean conscience…

-0000000-

"Keep that away from me."

Cordelia made a face, "Lettie, every working girl wears something similar to this. It's actually quite conservative."

Lettie let out a screech and stamped her foot. After about three months of having to spend more time in the company of the working girls, the girls had bonded quite closely. After this, however, Lettie was willing to rethink her friendship with the girl.

"Conservative? I am not going to wear one of those things. No, no, no," A sudden thought struck Lettie, "Hey, you don't…"

Coderlia smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Lettie shuddered, "You are sick. Cord. Sick, sick, sick."

Cordelia threw the offending item at Lettie, "Come on Lettie. Just go behind the screen and try it on."

Safely behind the screen, Lettie slid into the garment and shuddered again. The purple, silk slip came up to her mid-thigh, showing off her garter belts and down to show a fair bit of her chest. Add to the fact that the hem and the neckline were edged with black lace, and Lettie swore to herself that she'd never let anyone, anyone, except for Cordelia, see her in this.

"It's too tight," Lettie snarled as she stepped out, scowling, "I am not wearing this."

Cordelia looked at her appraisingly, "Not bad," She commented, "Your silver necklace would look nice with that."

"In the kitchen."

"So get it."

"In this?"

"Fagin and the boys are out. Go on!"

Muttering an oath about slips in general, Lettie stormed out into the kitchen, pulled a stool next to the shelves and stood on it, beginning to rifle through the odds and sods to find the necklace…

-----

Dodger almost fell out of bed. Dammit! Everyone else was out, and if he didn't get out quickly, he wouldn't get enough money to make Fagin happy. Charlie was a right foul git for letting him sleep in like that….

Well, not everyone was out. Someone was rattling around in the kitchen. Quietly, so as not to let anyone know how late he slept, Dodger crept into the kitchen, and almost let his eyes bulge out of his socket in shock.

Lettie looked…..well, he could hardly describe it. There were really no words to describe….well, what was she wearing? Not anything decent, that was for sure. Maybe if he got out now, he could get away without her noticing….but still, there was no harm in just looking, was there?

It was Lettie. Not the same Lettie he'd known and grown up with, anyway. Definitely not. Dodger felt his face grow hot as he stared…no gawped at the girl, who was now stretching for the top shelf to get at something. Her dress was riding up awfully high…high enough to see the black lacy material…Dodger managed to tear his eyes away and stick his hands in his jacket pocket awkwardly, feeling his face grow even hotter. He wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing the hair that had been stuck down with sweat out of his eyes, and let a quiet, steady breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding go.

Maybe he should have looked….no, that was stupid, it was Lettie after all. Why should he want to see what she was wearing underneath that? Well, he could already see her garters….had spent a good five minutes staring at them, if he was completely honest…what was the harm in seeing her undergarments, anyhow?

A lot of harm, a voice in his head muttered, as his stomach clenched.

Scowling, Dodger waited until Lettie had found what she was looking for, hid behind the door as she had turned around, (in the few seconds that she was facing him, the front view was no less pleasing than the back), watched her walk out, waited until the heat subsided from his face, rubbed a hand across his forehead and quietly stole out.

-0000000-

So, three years into the future, and to the untrained observer, almost nothing had changed. But to Dodger, too much had….

"LETTIE! CORDELIA'S HERE!"

Lettie walked out of her room (a small space not much bigger than a cupboard), hands clapped over her ears, "You don't have to yell so loudly," She hissed, a look of extreme pain written all over her face, "My head hurts."

Dodger smirked from where he was sitting, blowing out a ring of smoke into Lettie's face, "That'll serve you right for drinking too much gin," He told her lazily.

Lettie scowled, "Why don't you just go and…."

"Lettie!"

Lettie made a very dark face at her friend before turning to Cordelia, "Are you ready to go?"

"What do you two do in there, anyway?" Charlie asked, looking up from the house he was building with a deck of cards, "You girls always go up there and come down again looking all giggly."

Lettie and Cordelia exchanged amused looks, "None of your business," Cordelia told him haughtily.

"You've got to tell us!" Charlie wailed, "'S not fair if you keep secrets from us, we don't have secrets from you!"

Dodger shifted slightly in his seat.

Lettie tossed her hair back from her face, busy doing the fastening up on her cloak, "If you really must know, we get….taught stuff," Cordelia spluttered into laughter.

Dodger made a face, "Taught stuff? What kind of stuff?"

"You want her to give you a demonstration?" Cordelia managed to gasp out before doubling up again.

Lettie shot a disgusted look at her friend as Dodger frowned, "Come on, tell me!"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah."

Lettie had a thoughtful look on her face, "Really want to know?"

"Yes! Come on Lettie, just tell me!"

"Alright," Lettie grabbed Dodger by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him to his feet, "See, this is what we get taught," She told him matter-of-factly, before pressing her mouth to his.

Dodger almost fell backward. He had kissed girls before, of course, but none of them had really…well….felt like this before. If kissing Lettie gave him the same head-spinning, legs-turning-to-water feeling that it did now, he would never stop.

His heart beating at such an alarming rate that he was sure everyone would be able to hear it, his entire body seemed to have gone numb. Apart from where Lettie had gently placed her hands on each side of his face, and was now slowly stroking one hand down one side. They felt like they were on fire. And his lips. It was almost as if they were burning. How on earth did Lettie do it? She was….well, it was…..she….

He really couldn't say anything definite about it. All he could really decipher out of the muddled, swirled up feeling in every bone in his body was how lovely she tasted. Like apples and cinnamon. He could just taste it as her tongue flicked over his. Why had he never known about that before? And what on earth was that enjoyable, slightly delicious feeling in the pit of his stomach – as if something was swirling around inside of him. He shivered, letting out a quiet sound from the back of his throat.

The girl let go of him, letting Dodger stumble backwards a few paces. He was almost painfully aware that his jaw was slack, "See?" She patted him almost sympathetically on the shoulder, "See you boys later!" She chirped, skipping out of the room, Cordelia behind her.

Cordelia lasted about ten paces out of the door, before cornering her friend, "Alright….Leticia Hackdown, are you out of your mind? Has spendin' all that time with those lads given you some sort of sickness?"

Lettie shook her head, smiling slightly wistfully, "No…I just thought that would be the only effective way to shut him up."

Cordelia rolled her eyes expressively, "Lettie, three years ago, had anyone told me that you would resort to kissing lads to stop them talking, I would have thought them crazy," She paused thoughfully, "It seems to have done the trick though."

"Indeed."

There was a long pause, broken only by the sound of a crash in the next room.

"What was that?"

Cordelia looked into the room, "Dodger fell over. He still looks a little dazed."

"Ah."

Cordelia stared at her friend, dark brown eyes looking calculating, "You looked as though you enjoyed that."

"Well, I didn't."

"Oh."

"I'd just like to get that clear. I never want to go through that experience again. Once in a lifetime, understand me? Never again."

"Right."

"Just to set the record straight."

"Oh, of course."

"Never again."

"Right."

There was a longer pause, this time more embarrassed, more awkward.

"Let?"

"Yes?"

"Is he a better kisser than Tom?"

"Cordelia!"

"Well, I just said, is he, or isn't he, is all."

A/N: Gasp! Aren't I mean? Aren't I insane? Aren't I so very, very warped minded?

And, for anyone who's interested, Dodger and Charlie are now fourteen, Lettie's thirteen, and Tom's seventeen. Oliver Twist, here we come...

And now, thankyou's to: jumanji (breathe, woman, breathe! someone get this woman an air tank! Glad you enjoyed, here's more!) Queen of the Badgers (Ah, yes, they are indeed sweet. Charlie says hello and waves. Yes, I do indeed have evil plans. Accursedly enough, they can't start yet. Damn. And yes, I think that Dodger has realised, if not specific 'feelings', general feelings of a more teenage-boyish nature. And here is more Cordelia for you. Cordelia, say hello!) Bombalurinasara (Yeah, the musical is excellent. Very sweet. I had a look at your profile CATS! Yay! and saw your list of CATS pairings. Why don't you write a Pouncival/Etcetera fic? Or have you already? It just sounds a good pairing) GarenRuyMaxwell (Don't worry, Charlie is alive and well, if not almost dieng from lack of breath, due to exessive laughter. Oh well. And, indded, this will end well! It'll just have an extremely tricky patch inbetween. And we are talking extreme trickiness.) Ericketiting (Unfortunately, yes, they would have. I did I little bit of research, and apparently it was quite common. Horribleness, I know. Glad you like it!) SugarPeaches (Ah, well, you must wait and see, to tell where Lettie will work. On with the story!) Vechababe (Ah, I hear the theme tune even now...Hope you caught this update!) sethshoney (Dodger is indeed, as you say, freaking amazing. I'd like to see your story!) PrincessRebel (Not yet, not yet! First I need to think up a suitable way for Dodger to get his own back on Tom...I think a keg on gunpowder and a lighted splint's pretty suitable...) funkymignons (Erm...yes. I have updated. Please calm yourself now!) and Independantskater (Indeed, it keeps us all wondering. Even me. Wait, aren't I meant to be in charge of them? Uh oh...)

Well, you guys know what to do. Read, review, and eat chocolate.