Prev: Finchel Now: Kinn Next: Kurttany
14 Reasons I Love Y', Such-Like
2. You complete me like no one else can. You're loud, I'm quiet. Well, except when you're quiet and I'm loud. You stand out by existing and you have to work to blend in. I blend in by existing and have to work to stand out. But you are inherently happy where I'm inherently sad, and whether or not that's a mask like mine is, you make me happier than I would be without you.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Over here! Lookit me! Lookit me!"
"Gimme a l'il bit more'f yer food?"
"Oh hey, Finn, y' going back? Kurt just got back."
Finn looked up from his plodding. "He has? The usual place?"
The urchin nodded.
"He sed he'll be waitin' for you, wi' loot. He gave me a little bit. Candlestick. I knows where to pawn it off, see," the dirty, small girl said the last in a whisper.
Finn patted her on the head. "Off with you, then."
"I hav'na forgotten the food y' gave me yet, Finn."
Finn passed through the layers of urchins watching the doorway and went into the thieves' house.
"Yo, Kurt!" Finn yelled. "What was the 'grift' like?"
"You sound so fake," Kurt said, out of the cleaner part of the house, changing out of his better-made clothes. "Stop using thieves' slang, you poser."
"I am not a poser, Kurt."
"You have a last name, don't you?"
"Well, yeah," Finn admitted. "Anyway, what did you get?"
Kurt flashed a grin. "The Tanakas haven't noticed that their second set of silverware's gone missin'. Missing."
"Nice!" Finn said. "Hey, you want to run a con, just the two of us?"
"Like when we started?" Kurt said, hanging the clothes up on a hook. Finn tried not to look at Kurt's bare chest. It was...uncomfortable, kinda awkward. Like, he was okay with looking at the other urchins all nekkid and stuff, cos he was one of them before and despite what Kurt said he was okay at slippin' back into the thieves' slang, but lookin' at Kurt, it med his insides feel all funny-like, like he et bad food and his stomach turned over.
Like he ate bad food and his stomach turned over. He was one of them richies now, he had to talk like 'em. Like them.
Even if he was gonna - going to - run a grift with Kurt, the way they used to. They were both richies, kinda, now.
"Where?" Kurt said, leaning into him as they headed toward the thieves' store.
"Market, second level?" Finn asked.
Kurt nodded, thinking. "Yeh, we hav'na gone back there since we were partners under Will and Terri, eh?"
"Yeh," Finn said, his accent and manner morphing to match Kurt's.
"Hep me with the ties? My fingers are all stiff-like, heppin' my papa in the shops an' smithery." Kurt said, pulling one of the light sleeveless vests around his shoulders. Finn watched, his eyes fond, watching the partner he only rarely saw nowadays. Making sure the vest stayed down with his palms, Finn tied the knots between the sides, and Kurt leaned back into him, sighing.
"Yeh know, I miss goin' on grifts with ya, Finn," Kurt said.
"Yeh, me too."
The midafternoon sun beat harshly on the cobblestones. Even so late in the day, the sky was still blue, blue without a hint of cloud, and the stones of the buildings in their city shined golden-bright. Folks from miles an' miles around called their homeplace the 'City Of Gold', an' Finn agreed. It was real pretty, like that.
The stones were hot under his an' Kurt's feet, but even though tourists found it difficult to walk on in shoes, Kurt an' Finn'd been walkin' the city barefoot for years an' years, and it was easy to re-adjust, even when they were bein' richies an' wearing shoes for weeks on end.
Merchants laid their carpets everywhere, the colors vibrant and bright in the sun. Vendors hawked wares, and Finn drew in a deep, deep breath, inhaling the mixed smell of fish and fruit, wine and freshly-baked pita, herbs and spices and sandalwood and myrrh. Incense. Mutton, all smoking on the great big bonfire at Market, Central. Perfumed water. Dung. Camels. People, who didn't bathe so often.
Kurt was holdin' his nose.
"Kurt?" Finn asked.
"I din't realide how mud livid' ad Papa Burt's smiddery bade by node more sensitibe."
"What?"
Kurt took a deep breath through his mouth and let go of his nose.
"I didn't realise how much livin' at Papa Burt's smithery made my nose more sensitive!"
He clamped his nose again, and took another breath.
"Oh," Finn said. He shrugged. "S'okay, I understand."
"Nuttin' aboud udderstaddin', it judd thtinkth."
"Hey..."
They passed a vendor selling perfumed cloths. Finn kept Kurt near him with a hand on his shoulder, and paid the vendor for one. He gave the vendor way too much money, and apologised profusely, taking far too much 'change' back.
The vendor was distracted by the next customer, and didn't realise that Finn had paid him in so few coins that the cloth was effectively given away.
Finn and Kurt melded into the crowd.
Kurt tied the perfumed cloth over his nose, and breathed easier.
"It's easier to breathe," Kurt said. "Thanks."
"So..." Finn said. "You got any ideas for the grift?"
"You wanna run the Big Dumb Mute one?"
Finn sighed. "I ain't got any better ideas..."
"Step right up!" a boy called, a perfumed rag wrapped around his right arm. "Step right up, one and all, to the ridiculous, fantastic, fabulous, majestic, the big, dumb mute, Knee N. Derthal! You can poke at him, arm-wrestle, test his wits, his skill, his mettle, face him in the ring, or outside, you can read to him, or decide, what he should do next, for a small price, of two copper and silver coins. You can watch him do magic with your money, and make it four."
A small crowd had already gathered around the two of them, the big dumb mute arm-wrestling a big, buff fish merchant. Small piles of copper and silver coins vanished into the boy's pockets, oddly, considering he was only wearing a small silver vest and short pants. When he moved, he didn't even jingle.
"Who dares, who dares, to put a bell on Knee? We got bells on him, just to show that someone brave done it! Are you brave enough? Step right up, step right up! Ten silver coins to the winner!"
"Here's your change, kind sir, you gave me a little too many..."
"Mnnaaaarrrgh!"
Kurt pocketed the change as soon as his customer looked over.
"Thas' a big dumb mute you gots there," one of the older merchants said, baring his teeth in a crooked gold grin, his teeth blackened and yellow. "Care t' sell him, boyo?"
"Ah, nah," Kurt said. "He's m'brother, I can' sell 'im. Me daddy would hate me from up high, y'see."
"Goo' enuf," the man said. "He's makin' y' piles o' money tho, ain't he?"
"Yeh, that t'."
The man laughed. "Well, I oughtta be off. M' business won't keep, y'see?"
"Yeh, a'right, a'right. Y' come back soon?"
"I'll bring somethin' special," the man winked, and walked off, hobbling on his crutches. One of his legs had been badly brutalised in some streetfight, a long time ago.
Kurt narrowed his eyes. Somethin' about that man was familiar. He darted over to buy somethin' food-like from a vendor, and then headed to Finn.
"Hey," he murmured into Finn's ear, holding the food close to Finn's lips, "I think one of the Ol' Thieves was jest here."
Finn made sure to drool out of his mouth before biting into the pita. His shoulders tensed, and he dropped his head, squirming on the spot.
"'Kay," Kurt said, louder. "I'll be around."
Finn dodged to the side suddenly, as an enterprising richie kid ran at him at full speed, holding a bell. Using that sudden momentum, he won his arm-wrestle with a big Nubian merchant, the man wincing and rubbing his hand afterward. He paid, wearing a wide white grin, though, acknowledging the loss.
Kurt rolled out of the way.
Sunset.
"We're closin'! We're closin'!" Kurt yelled, and lifted Finn to his feet. Drooling and mumbling, Finn ambled back with Kurt, the bells on him jingling and jangling.
The merchants packed up, moving to their carts or bearing their stock themselves, and moved away from Market, Second, with unusual speed.
Kurt watched it all with narrowed eyes.
"Looks like the Old Thief got touchy," Kurt muttered.
Finn narrowed his eyes. "Why does he care? Market, Second's neutral turf."
"Mebbe he's trainin' a gang or summat."
"Still," Finn said. "He should know Code."
"Mm..."
"You okay to fight? I'm ready for a bout."
"I dunno...I guess I been spoiled, eh?"
"Yeh."
"Jet!" Kurt called.
A little urchin head popped up out of nowhere. "Whassup, boss? Ooh," he winced, "Ow. It's hot."
"Warn Rach and Puck we'll be late home, 'kay? An'...here, take summa this."
From seemingly nowhere Kurt produced a belt lined with pouches of money, all jingling and jangling. "Go bank this, yeh?"
"Sure thing, boss!" Jet stared down at all the money. "Oh, wow..."
"Go on with ye," Kurt said. "If'n you good enough, an' we get back wi' the rest of the bake, we'll buy y' some xocolatl to share wi' your richie gir', good 'nough?"
"Amelie'll love it, yeh," Jet said, grinnin'. "She loves tha' xocolatl."
"Don't y' get into any fights on the way back, Jet," Finn warned. "I know y'."
"Y' gir's sed you were dangerous reckless," Kurt added.
"Relax! I don't get into meanin'less fights, y' know tha'. Amelie knows it, t'."
"Yeh, true," Kurt said. "Off wi' y', now."
Jet took off, his black hair quickly out of sight.
"Y' ready, Finn?"
"Yeh. I'm spoilin' fer a good fight. Y' gonna talk first?"
"Yeh."
Finn and Kurt turned around at the pattering of feet. Three boys, all scowlin', in dirty smocks.
"Y' there!" the leader of the trio screamed. "Y're on our turf! We're Rats! Market's our turf now!"
"Market's neutral turf," Kurt shot back. "Y' can't up an' claim it like that."
"We'll run anyone off who says otherwise!"
"Oh yeh?" Kurt yelled. "We're Nu Directions, we been around since th' Ol' Thieves split up! How ol' are y'?"
"Garrin's one o' the Ol' Thieves, an' he's sponsorin' us, y' nincompoop!"
"Then he shudda sponsored y' better!"
"...If y' know what he mean," Finn added.
"WHAT DID Y' SAY?"
Kurt shoved Finn hard.
"Them's fightin' words! Boys, get'im!"
The other two boys rushed Finn and Kurt. With the two of them standing still, the Rats had no trouble holding the two of them down.
"Who's laughin' now, eh?" the leader yelled. "You Directionals are weak!"
"But they got girls, boss..."
"Eh?"
"An' pretty boys," the one holding Kurt said.
Kurt looked over at Finn before the boy holding him yanked his head back.
"Whatcha say, boss, we ransom these kids for some of them girls?"
"Hmm...I seen a bunch of em around sayin' they're Directions. Garrin pointed them outta me, they're pretty good lookin'. And these two are the bosses, so they'll come over glad enough..."
Kurt looked shocked.
"Oh yeh," the leader said, walkin' forward. "Garrin sed, if'n you get the chance, get the pretty boy and th' big dumb one down. Then we tek the gir's." He spat on the ground. "Thet was plain easy. Garrin din't need t' worry. Bofe of y' are weak, an' we're strong, hell yeh."
Kurt sighed. "Garrin's th' weak one, weak in th' head, if'n he chose you lot."
"What?"
"I've herd y' out now, an' you ain't worth listenin' t'."
"WHAT?" the leader said, almost jumping up and down in irritation. "I got y'! I got y'! I'm holdin' y' ransom!"
"An' we're not gonna pay it," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "Finn?"
"Thought y'd n'ver ask," Finn said, and forced his arms out. The boy holding him went tumbling across the sandy cobblestones. The boy holding Kurt gaped, and Kurt drove a sharp elbow into his stomach, then rolled away.
Finn walked, slow and deliberate, to the leader. The leader started backing away, but much too late.
Finn's arm shot out, and he grasped the leader by the collar of his smock. "Yer gonna go back to Garrin," Finn hissed, "An' y' gonna tell him that Nu Directions does no' like what he's sayin' about them."
"Whatcha gonna do about it?" the leader mocked.
"Yer gonna go back like this."
Finn drew back his fist, and smashed the leader full in the face, letting go of him at the instant before hitting him.
The leader spun away from him and collapsed on the ground, bleeding from a broken nose.
"Rats!" the boy screamed, hitting the ground, "Ge' him!"
"Oh, yer kiddin'," Finn groaned, as a gang of boys flooded out from the market.
Kurt sighed. "Y' wanted a bout, din't ye?"
Finn carried his partner in his arms, cradling him gently as he plodded back to their hideout. He'd fought dem fierce agin those boys, movin' swift an' easy. Finn'd found it easy like always. They'd kick him an' he'd feel nuthin', he'd hit 'em an' they'd go down cryin' for their mommies.
"Was a good day," Kurt murmured into his chest, and Finn smiled.
"Yeh."
"...I got y' xocolatl today," Kurt murmured. "Burt ga' me th' money."
"Yeh?" Finn asked. "Well...I got y' xocolatl, t'."
"Happy anniversary, Finn. Y'know...the richies...today's..."
"Yeh, well...guess we got lucky findin' each other, eh."
The lights of the hideout were on, but dim, and Kurt let one arm loose from around Finn's neck to open their door.
"But it's a good kinda lucky."
"Yeh."
"'M glad y' were m' partner."
"Me t'."
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