Note: I don't own The Outsiders

Chapter 40

The newsman droned on about the weather and the traffic. Dally sighed impatiently and reached forward, spinning the dial until some music spilled from the speakers. News. Commercial. Some chick singing about her loser boyfriend. News. The Beatles. The stupid radio was not cooperating and Dally bit off a curse as he shut it off, plunging the car into silence.

Figuring he could use a smoke, he pushed the dashboard lighter in with a little more force than was necessary as he looked out of the corner of his eye at his passenger. Johnny was staring straight ahead, quieter than Dally could ever remember him being. It didn't help that things got off to such an awkward start.

It wasn't like he knew how the hell to help someone into a car when they couldn't move their legs. Johnny tried to convince him that he didn't need help, that he could do it just fine on his own. In retrospect, he should have listened to him. He just fucked up everything, accidentally knocking Johnny onto the hard pavement. The kid was embarrassed, he could tell. Hell, he was embarrassed for him. He went to help, but Johnny waved him off, pulling himself up into the car. It was a bit of a struggle but he managed it far more gracefully than Dally could have imagined. Shoot, he'd seen drunk guys at Buck's that had more trouble getting into their cars after a particularly wild night.

One hand on the steering wheel, he blindly groped with the other for the handle on the door and cracked the window a couple of inches. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a cigarette but didn't light it, the lighter still stubbornly heating up. At this rate, he'd have Johnny home and be halfway to Buck's before the damn thing was finished.

Some of the houses started to look familiar and Dally realized they were only a couple of streets away from Johnny's foster home. The cop, Dally remembered, a sly grin turning up the corner of his mouth.

Johnny shifted his books on his lap and Dally noticed he was tapping his fingers on the cover of the top book. A nervous habit that Dally recognized immediately. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but closed it immediately when his mind went blank.

"Sorry about back there," he finally said and Johnny shrugged.

"No big deal, man. I've fallen out of the chair before. Wasn't the first time, won't be the last," he said quietly. Dally tightened his grip on the steering wheel, not really liking his answer.

"School okay?" Dally asked, wincing at how stupid the question sounded to his ears. When had Dallas Winston ever given a damn about school? Christ, why couldn't he just talk to Johnny like he always did?

"School's fine," Johnny said, shrugging again. Now the kid was biting his nails.

Bullshit, school's fine, he wanted to respond with, but held back.

Johnny's house came into view, and he was saved from having to think of something else to say. It pissed him off that he felt relieved.

He turned into the driveway, parking behind a fairly nice Buick. He realized someone was opening the door. They must have pulled in just before he did. It was the lady, what's-her-name? Marge or something.

She'd spotted the Pontiac and was making her way over, smiling as she walked to Johnny's side of the car. Johnny wound down his window as she came near.

"Hi, honey," she said sweetly and Dally fought the urge to snicker.

"Hi, Mary. Do you, um, remember Dal?" Johnny stammered slightly and Dally noticed that he now had a death grip on his books.

"Yes, of course." Her voice cooled slightly as her attention turned toward him. "Hello, Dallas. It's nice to see you."

Johnny coughed suddenly and Dally grinned at the kid's unease. Just at that moment, the lighter popped out. He grabbed it and casually lit the cigarette he'd been holding onto, letting it dangle out of the corner of his mouth.

"Nice to see you, too, Mrs. … uh, Martin," he replied in an exhale of smoke. "How are things hangin' on the lawful side of town?"

Mary shook her head, smiling slightly. "Things are hanging just fine. How are you doing, Dallas?"

"Haven't been arrested for a while, so that's good. I guess."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it." Damn broad was pretty quick, he'd give her that. He supposed being the wife of a cop meant she wasn't easily shocked. Well, he'd have to try harder then.

"Dally was just giving me a ride home," Johnny jumped in before he had a chance to say anything else.

"I thought Keith was going to bring you home."

"Yeah, well --" Johnny started hesitantly.

"Keith fucked up," Dally finished for him.

"Oh, you know Tom or I would have come to get you," she said as she started to open the door, but Dally reached over and grabbed the handle and pulled on it until the door latched.

"Actually, Johnny just wanted to stop by and let you know that me and him are gonna hit some places first. Ya know - hang out and grab some food. Nothing too exciting," Dally said suddenly, not really sure where the words were coming from. He sure as hell hadn't planned on hanging out. He still had to track down Curly Shepard and find out what his brother wanted.

"We are?"

"You are?" Johnny and Mary spoke simultaneously.

Dally flicked his ashes out window. "Yeah, kid. Don't you remember? You yammered on and on about it the whole way here." He leaned forward, toward Mary. "You know how it is, sometimes you just can't shut the kid up."

He caught Johnny rolling his eyes, but he was smiling for the first time since getting in the car.

"You don't mind, do you Mary?" Johnny asked hopefully.

Mary looked first at Dally, then at Johnny. She reached in and grabbed his books from his lap.

"I'm guessing you won't need these."

"He better not," Dally said, tossing the remainder of his cigarette out the window.

"Home by eight," she said, taking a step back from the car as Dally started to rev the engine.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Martin. Home by nine," he said over the roar of the engine.

"What'll it be?" the waitress sighed and Dally grinned as he leaned back in his seat, making a show of studying the menu. He had chosen the rundown diner when Johnny couldn't think of any place for them to eat. This place was fine with Johnny - not as rough as The Dingo could sometimes get, and he didn't feel like sitting in the car to eat at Jay's.

"Let me think on that." Dally rocked his chair back onto two legs and rubbed his chin like he was trying to solve the hardest math problem in the world. "What'll it be? What'll it be? Ya know, I'm not sure. What's good?"

"You're in here at least once a week," she said, her eyes narrowing. "You always order a burger and fries. Always. And then you ask for no pickle so that you can complain that there's no pickle when the plate arrives," she added, sounding more bored than annoyed. Johnny found himself grinning. He'd forgotten how much fun it was to go out and eat with Dally. He considered annoying waitresses an art form, one he worked on perfecting every chance he got.

"Maybe I'm up for something new," Dally said with a sly wink, leaning in closer, his voice dropping an octave. "You got any suggestions?"

"Yeah, try Jay's down the street," she said dryly and Dally barked out a laugh.

Shaking her head, the waitress turned her attention to Johnny. "How about you, kid?"

"A burger and a Pepsi," he answered quickly, trying not to laugh.

"Fries?" she asked and Johnny nodded mutely.

Tapping her pencil on her order pad, she turned her attention back to Dally who was back to his thoughtful disguise.

"Burger, fries, and a Pepsi … that sounds good. Ya know, I think I'll go with that."

"You don't say," she rolled her eyes and she jotted down his order.

"Yeah, but hold the --"

"Pickle," she interrupted, the point of the pencil digging into the paper, making a dark slash at the end of the "e". "Sure, whatever. No pickle."

Dally was still laughing as she turned on her heel and made her way to the kitchen. He dropped the menu on the table and grabbed a napkin, shredding it into strips as he watched her disappear behind the swinging doors.

"She falls for that every time," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

"I don't think she actually fell for anything, Dal," Johnny observed.

The door to the diner opened, tripping the bell hanging above it as more people spilled in, chattering and laughing. The booths were usually the first place to fill up but there was no room for Johnny's chair, so they were stuck in the back with the old people who were out to get the early bird special. Johnny looked around at the crowded dining room, realizing for the first time just how popular seventy-five cent meatloaf must be in this part of town.

"So life treatin' you okay, Johnnycake?" Dally asked, looking around at the people filling the tables. He nodded a greeting or two at some familiar looking greasers and sneered at an old lady who walked by, clutching her purse tightly to her chest as she eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah, everything's good. School should be alright, I guess. They made me get a tutor."

"Yeah? That's cool," Dally said distractedly, still not really looking at Johnny.

"A girl," Johnny stated simply and that finally got Dally's attention.

"A chick?" Dally raised his eyebrows as Johnny's face reddened. "She hot?"

"Nah … I mean, I guess so. She's, um, she's real nice," he stammered, suddenly wishing he hadn't brought it up.

"Soc?" Dally asked.

"Nah, she's just a girl, not a Soc or a greaser. Just a girl," Johnny explained awkwardly.

"A nice girl," Dally said with a wink and Johnny didn't answer. Dally leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Nice … I could work with nice. Nice could be fun. Like a challenge. Wonder how long it'd take to make her not nice?"

"Dal --"

"Geez, I'm just kidding. 'Sides, I've got my hands full with Sylvia. Don't need to add anymore grief to my life."

"Unless it was Cherry Valance," Johnny said quietly as the waitress returned with their drinks.

"What was that?" Dally asked, a shocked look on his face.

"What was what?" Johnny asked innocently, peeling the paper off his straw.

"You turnin' into some wiseass or something without me around?"

Johnny didn't answer, just grinned as he took a sip of his soda.

"Jesus, I'm out of it for a little while and you start making like you're goddamn Two-Bit or something," Dally said with a laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well, you did break into her house," Johnny pointed out.

Dally shook his head and looked at the ceiling as though hoping for some divine intervention. "How many times do I have to say that I didn't know it was her fucking house?"

"I believe you," Johnny said and Dally narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth.

"So what have you been up to, Dal?" Johnny asked, changing the subject.

Dally sighed and leaned back in his chair but didn't say anything. He reached out and started rearranging the silverware on the table, the sound of metal hitting metal filling the silence . "Just hangin' out - you know, here and there," he finally said.

"Get in any good fights?"

"Nah," Dally said as he rubbed the back of his head, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Well, except for the fiery redhead and her vase. Other than that, things have been boring. Though I may have to pound Shepard junior into the ground when I get a hold of him - just for the hell of it."

Dally started looking around the diner, his fingers tapping an annoyed rhythm on the table. "Man, where is that broad with our food? Service around here sucks."

"So nothing exciting?" Johnny interrupted Dally's rant about the food.

Dally shook his head. "Shepard keeps promising some huge score that he's got the inside track on. Been promising that for a while now. I'll believe it when I see it," he said with a scornful laugh.

Johnny didn't know what to say to that - he sure didn't like the sound of it. Sure, the guys liked to steal hubcaps and do some petty crime stuff, but Dally sounded like he meant something more than shaking down some old lady for her purse.

"It ain't dangerous, is it?" he found himself asking. He wasn't surprised when Dally waved it off and shook his head.

"It's more dangerous to hang out in the lot at night. Shepard is full of shit. He thinks this is the big time, but he's got another thing comin' to him."

"You could quit," Johnny said, not sure where that came from. No one ever really challenged Dally on his plans, no one.

"And do what? Bag groceries?"

"Sure, why not? Or you could talk to Darry. He could get you a job."

Dally laughed. "Hey, while I'm at it, why don't I talk to your foster dad about getting a job on the force. Officer Winston has a nice ring to it." Johnny didn't get a chance to respond - the waitress appeared, placing their plates on the table in front of them.

"Leave it alone, kid. The lion don't change his stripes," Dally said as he examined his plate. He looked up at the waitress who was standing there, obviously waiting for something, her hand behind her back.

"Hey," Dally said, his voice indignant, "you forgot the --" She dropped a small plate with a pickle on it in front of Dally and marched away, pulling out her tablet as she approached another table.

"Alright," he admitted, "I guess she ain't fallin' for it anymore."

"We got three hours before I gotta get you home in time for your curfew," Dally said, leaning up against his car as he took a long drag on his cigarette.

"I don't have a curfew," Johnny said.

"Sure sounded like one to me," Dally said as he scuffed his boot on the pavement, sending a rock skidding into the tire of the car parked next to his. "How about Buck's."

Johnny's face lost all its color and Dally fought hard not to laugh at his reaction. "Buck's?" the kid practically stammered. "Uh, I don't know, Dal …"

Dally didn't get a chance to make his case for hanging out at Buck's because a familiar-looking car pulled into the parking lot. It was going too fast and came to a screeching halt, inches from the bumper of Dally's car.

"What the fuck?" Dally muttered around the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. The passenger side door opened and Curly Shepard stumbled out. Dally looked through the windshield and saw that Angela Shepard was the one driving, obviously stuck chauffeuring her brother around. He gave her a mocking wave and she gave him the finger.

"Dally, there you are. I've been all over town looking for you. Man, Tim's gonna kill me if I don't get his message to you," Curly said in a breathless rush as he made his way around the car, stopping in his tracks when he realized Dally wasn't alone.

"Hey, Johnny," he said with a lopsided smile, his urgent mission momentarily forgotten.

"Hey, Curly," Johnny replied.

"Did you see what Mathews did to Lockwood? That was some funny shit. I heard that his desk still ain't been put back --"

Dally loudly cleared his throat, interrupting Curly and his recounting of the day's events. "You don't spit out why you're here and your brother ain't gonna get the chance to kill you because I'm gonna beat him to it," he said menacingly as he stepped forward and ground his cigarette out on the hood of Angela's car.

Angela quickly wound down her window. "You son of a bitch," she screeched angrily, but Dally ignored her, taking a step toward her brother, ready to wring his neck if he didn't talk soon.

Curly's eyes shifted to Johnny, obviously uncomfortable about talking about business in front of him.

"Uh," Curly started carefully. "There's a meeting, uh, set for seven and Tim wants you to be there."

"A meeting? Where?" Dally asked and Curly handed over a folded piece of paper. Dally unfolded it. It had an address on it - downtown, the shitty part of downtown. Was this the action Tim had been hinting at? Was he finally trusting him enough to let him on the inside? He kept his face blank, not wanting Curly to see the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins.

He looked back at Johnny, suddenly feeling guilty.

"Johnny …" he started but Johnny shrugged.

"It's okay. I've got homework anyway. We gotta get going if you're gonna drop me off and get there by seven." He started pushing his chair, making his way to the other side of the car.

Dally caught up to him as Curly and Angela sped away, barely missing the street light as the car pulled out into traffic.

"Kid, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to ya," Dally said. "It's just this is business and …" He stopped, not liking that he felt the need to make excuses.

Johnny stopped and turned his chair to face him. "I understand. You've got some big meeting to go to and I've go homework. You don't owe me anything."

Johnny said it quietly, without accusation, but Dally could hear it anyway. He looked at the address again, it would be so easy to tear it up and walk away. Talk to Darry about a job, like Johnny said. Shit, even bagging groceries wouldn't be so bad.

It would be so easy - one rip and it would all go away and he could start fresh. Lead a normal life.

The thought only stayed with him for a moment before he pocketed the address, anticipation gripping him like Sylvia on a good night.

Normal was for losers.

O

O

O

O

O

A/N - Thanks again for all the great reviews and for sticking with this story for such a long time. I will try to get the new chapters up faster than I have been these last few months.