A/N: I'm thinking about how I could do some sort of LK-based-on-the-Newsies-musical story because it's a little obsessive with me. I mean, think about it. Katherine is the replacement for the movie love intrest Jack has, whose name is Sarah. Katherine's a journalist. Jack sells papers and generally is rebellious, and has a young friend. Tell me there's no potential for a fic. I want to do a 'Something To Believe In' AMV to Librety's Kids clips. Squee.
After supper Sarah, acting on Mrs. Adams' instruction, borrowed one of Nabby's nightdresses, braided her hair, oversaw the braiding of Nabby's hair, as Laura was still attending to the boys, blew out the candles, climbed into the bed, drew the curtains, and went to sleep.
Or rather, tried to. Although the younger girl beside her went to sleep almost immediately, Sarah still wasn't finished with her day. She slid out of the bed as quietly as possible, so not to wake Nabby, and went to the discarded dress she had folded up, slid her hand into its sleeve and pulled out the folded, sealed paper. She tucked it into the waist of her stays. The little girl had still not stirred. She pulled the curtains around her bed and closed her eyes.
Sarah didn't know how long she had lain there attempting to stifle her coughs and not wake up Nabby before a hand grabbed her shoulder.
She bolted upright and knocked her head into James'. "What are you doing?" she hissed, glancing at Nabby's sleeping form. Without waiting for an answer, she stifled a cough and stood up, drawing the bed curtains back around the bed, as not to wake up Nabby. James handed her the candle he had been using to light his way, and she lit several more, dimly lighting the room.
"Is something the matter?" she asked in a whisper, forcing another cough to die in her throat. She hadn't actually spoken to James since they had arrived at the Adams' house. "Is Henri alright?"
"Everything's fine. I just wanted..." suddenly, James felt very stupid. "Um, to see if you were alright." it had seemed a much more sensible comment in his head.
Sarah looked down at the floor. "Well, I'm...tired. Aren't you?" James nodded, awkwardly following her gaze, and that's when he realized that she must be wearing one of the little girl's—Nabby, he thought her name was—nightgowns. Sarah, being almost twice as old, was a good deal taller then the eight-year-old. He could practically see her knees!
He quickly diverted her attention to her face, and suddenly he came to a shocking realization.
Sarah was...pretty.
His brain was running into dangerous territory now, and he quickly amended his thoughts. Well, not really pretty. Prettier then, say, spiders, maybe. There was nothing wrong with her face, anyway.
He glanced away and hoped she hadn't seen him looking.
"What about Moses? How is he going to find us?" she asked in a whisper, finally coughing. James cringed at the sound but no one seemed to stir.
"I don't know—I hope he remembers that he told us about going to stay with the Adams'." there was quiet, then James continued. "I— what if he gets arrested, and the British convict him of treason and..." he trailed off. Sarah tentatively lay a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sure that won't happen." she didn't look quite as hopeful she could've but it did make him feel a little better. Then a thought came to him.
"Sarah, how do you not worry about your family? I mean, your father is out in the wilderness. He might always be in danger. Who knows what could happen to him out there?"
"I do worry." Sarah admitted, clasping her hands together. "But my father is an officer in the King's Army. He can take care of himself," she smiled, a little wearily. James was also beginning to feel (more) exhausted. "And so can Moses." they exchanged goodnights.
James, who had opted to sleep on blankets on the floor, made his way back to the room he was sleeping in.
Sarah turned to go back to her bed, twisting her stays and giving herself a papercut from the envelope. She scowled.
Sarah opened her eyes to see Mrs. Adams and Laura standing at the edge of her bed, with Henri sitting on her ankles. Well, she didn't quite see them properly, because the room was spinning.
"Sarah, I think it would be best if you stayed in bed today. Henri told me you weren't well." Mrs. Adams sounded ridiculously far away. Sarah shook her head, regretted it, and pushed herself off the bed.
"I—I think I'll be fine. Yes, I'm fine." she rose to her feet, took two steps forward, and fell over.
With Sarah confined to bed for the rest of the foreseeable future, it fell to James and Henri to convince Mrs. Adams to let them out and go reporting.
"No."
"But—" James began to protest.
"Please, boys. I cannot allow you to go out for some time. We never know who could be in Boston. I must keep you safe—Moses asked me to, and he was asked to by Benjamin Franklin." Mrs. Adams closed the book she was reading. "Please try to understand."
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Henri as they left for the nursery, where the other children were occupied.
"I don't know. We need to go reporting and see what's happening in Boston." said James once they were out of earshot.
"But Mrs. Adams said we had to stay here." said Henri, not exactly protesting.
"We could sneak out." said James.
"We could." agreed Henri. He turned to look at James, surprised. "Will we?"
James shrugged in a way that Henri knew very well, because it meant 'yes'.
"Hurry up, Henri. It won't be long until we're expected for lunch." James grabbed Henri's hand and pulled him along in the moderately busy street before he noticed a man he had seen before—
—almost three and a half months before, in fact when he was 'disguised' as a Mohawk Indian in breeches and a linen shirt, throwing a box of tea off of the side of a certain ship. He was currently entering what looked to be an apothecary.
"Come on, Henri." he grabbed Henri by the hand again and followed the man into the shop. If he had been at the Tea Party he had to have some news.
Henri followed him as James quietly pushed open the door to the apothecary. Several people were already inside.
"—still on trial." a man was saying to a woman behind the counter as he handled her a bottle and some money. "I imagine he will be until they find some obvious evidence to convict him—although I doubt that can be the end of it. Franklin has too many friends."
Realizing who they were talking about, Henri elbowed James, who turned to the man. "What could they find?" he asked quickly.
The man turned to James. "Anything they can." he laughed mirthlessly. "Probably a connection to other 'traitors'—Farmer George can say he was the one who encouraged it."
Briefly James thought of all of their informants, some of whom delivered seditious tips.
Only one would have to be caught, and then there would be real trouble.
Well. More real trouble.
"Do you think zhat will 'appen?" asked Henri.
"More then likely. I'm surprised it hasn't already—but there's a bit of hope. If it doesn't happen soon the public's going to get restless. Franklin isn't without a bit of celebrity. People like him. The more time it takes them, the more chance they won't find anything."
"Oh." it was obvious that Henri didn't quite understand, and neither did James, really, but that didn't stop a knot of dread of tying itself in his stomach.
"Um, I think it's time for lunch." he said quickly to Henri, grabbed his hand again, and ran out of the apothecary.