Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 107: Unconditional Surrender
"Davey...did you just lie?" Sadie asked as they made their way back towards the tenement with the now-empty red wagon in tow. "Back there when you said that you could vouch for my cooking skills?"
He smiled slightly. "I never lie, Chare."
"But the only thing you've eaten that I've made were those lamentable cookies!" she protested. "Surely that's shaky ground upon which to found your endorsement of my competency."
"I didn't say that I vouched for your skills in the kitchen," Davey clarified. "I said that I vouched for you being too hard on yourself. And I have plenty of evidence for that. What I said was completely true."
"But it was misleading!"
He shrugged. "I'm a newsboy, Sadie. We spin our words all the time."
She laughed. "You're quite the clever one! And it was very sweet of you to interject on my behalf."
"Just stating the facts." They stopped for a moment to let a carriage trundle past, then crossed the street. "You don't have to actually cook me soup, though. I didn't mean to obligate you."
"I'll make it for you when you come over for dinner," she promised. "Mama was just mentioning to me yesterday that she wasn't sure what to cook, so this will solve the problem and give her one less thing to worry about - that is, if you don't mind a simple meal."
"Not at all," he assured her. Sadie had confirmed a date and time for his dinner with her family a few days ago, and he'd been looking forward to it since then. "I'll be completely satisfied with whatever is on the menu."
The trip back to the tenement was much easier, the foot traffic on the streets having thinned somewhat, and soon they were making their way up the last few blocks of Baxter Street, the tenement a welcome sight with the first few flickers of light beginning to show in its windows as the sun sank lower in the sky.
"I've got to go return this wagon to the Kogan twins," Sadie said as they drew near. "They said to just leave it out back behind their apartment, so I'm going to head that way first before going upstairs. You don't need to wait for me."
"I don't mind," Davey replied. "And I should probably check to make sure that the snow hasn't piled up anywhere inconvenient. I know your father mentioned that we might have to do some shoveling if the drifts get too high."
"He does like to clear a pathway in case anyone needs to walk through," Sadie confirmed. "But he generally leaves the rest of the snow undisturbed for a while in case any of the children from the tenement want to play in it. In fact…" her voice took on a hint of excitement, "I'd imagine that the conditions out back are quite optimal right now."
"Optimal for what?" Davey asked.
She smiled up at him. "For a snowball fight."
They rounded the corner of the building that led to the back of the tenement and were greeted by the sight of a yard perfectly blanketed in snow. Under normal circumstances, the space wasn't much to look at, just a strip of dirt about twenty feet across that ran the length of the tenement with benches set up on either side, but now, covered in white, it looked almost picturesque.
"It's perfect," Sadie declared, pulling the wagon to its designated parking spot and leaving it there to walk further into the yard, her face lighting up as she took in the snow banked against the fence and the effect of her footprints upon the ground. "The snow still looks soft and packable, and there's plenty of it. I dare say that this will prove to be the perfect battle ground for a friendly skirmish."
"Isn't it a little late for that?" Davey pointed out. "It's already starting to get dark."
"Only just barely!" she protested. "There's still plenty of daylight left."
"But it'll take time to find someone to play with, and by then won't you…" Davey found himself trailing off as the landlord's daughter gave him a meaningful smirk and it suddenly dawned on him what she had in mind.
"Oh no," he objected, backing away a few feet. "No, I - don't look at me like that, Chare. I'm not doing it. It's too cold."
"But Davey, you agreed with me earlier that you ought to play more than you do," she cajoled. "What better time than the present?"
"I didn't mean playing in the snow specifically. I said it as a general concession."
"But why not play in the snow?"
"It's cold. Like I said."
"It's also completely safe," she countered. "And if you run around, you'll warm up soon enough."
"Or I could just go inside and get the same result," Davey muttered, knowing even as the words left his mouth that he was fighting a losing battle. It didn't matter how many reasonable objections he came up with to counter her scheme; eventual capitulation was inevitable. There was probably no point in putting it off.
He met her eyes, which were bright and eager above a tentative, hopeful smile, then heard himself sigh and say reluctantly, "I'm sure, though, that going inside to get warm won't be nearly as much fun as staying out here to have a snowball fight with you."
Sadie let out a little squeal of glee, and he found the last of his resistance melting away.
"You'll have to fill me in on the rules and objective of the game, Chare," he said, bending down to run his fingers experimentally through the snow. "Like I said, this isn't something I normally do."
"There aren't really any rules or an official objective," she explained. "It's more about the experience and having fun while doing it."
"But how do you know when the game's over if there isn't a clear objective?" he persisted, getting to his feet. "Wouldn't it be more fun if there was a goal to reach?"
"If you'd be more apt to enjoy yourself with such a stipulation, we can certainly set one," she agreed. "What do you say we call the game when one side declares unconditional surrender?"
He couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "That sounds a little extreme."
"You wanted a goal, Davey," she reminded him. "That's about as measurable of an objective as you can get with something like a snowball fight."
"Well...all right," he consented. "I guess that's clear enough." He gave her a wry half-smile. "I suppose it would be unsportsmanlike of me to declare unconditional surrender now, wouldn't it?"
She laughed. "You're not getting off the hook that easily." Bending down, she scooped up a handful of snow and began to form it into a snowball. "You'd better arm yourself," she warned. "I'm not going to hold back, so I'd advise you to do the same. Pretend I'm Les, if that makes things easier."
"If I really wanted to beat you, I'd just pick you up and throw you into that snow bank," Davey gestured towards one of the larger drifts at the other end of the yard.
"But you'd never do something like that," came her smug reply. "It would be bending the rules."
"You just got done telling me that there are no rules in this game," he pointed out. "So technically there's nothing to stop me from following through on it."
Sadie's self-assured expression flickered for just a moment. "You're too much of a gentleman."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Davey warned, finding himself a little more inclined to banter now that he'd evened the balance of power. "I don't particularly like games, but I do like to win, and I'm not above resorting to some unconventional tactics to do so." He smiled. "I might not be as much of a gentleman as you think I am."
"Surely you're joking!" she protested as he took a step towards her.
"I'm pretty sure I'm not," he teased, closing in even though he had no intention of actually trying to catch her. "It seems like a good idea to me. You can't be much heavier than a couple stacks of papers, and I - "
With a little shriek, Sadie flung the snowball that she was holding in his direction. It hit Davey square in the face, an icy burst that made his lips and cheeks tingle with a numbing cold even as he felt bits of snow begin to drop down the collar of his coat.
"Your aim is...remarkably accurate," he said dryly, wiping the snow from his face. "And I think I just learned my lesson not to underestimate you again."
Sadie's expression was a mixture of amusement and chagrin. "I'm sorry, Davey," she murmured. "I didn't hurt you...did I?"
"Not at all," he replied. "But this snow is even colder than I expected."
"Is that a white flag, then, Mr. Jacobs?" came her smirking suggestion. "Unconditional surrender after a singular well-placed hit?"
She was taunting him - albeit good-naturedly - and to his surprise, he found himself rising to the occasion rather than backing down, some unfamiliar, unfettered side of him eager to answer her playfully-delivered challenge.
"On the contrary, Miss Becker." He stood up straighter, trying to look as dignified as possible despite the fact that he still had bits of snow melting in his hair and trickling down his face. "I'm even more determined to beat you now, knowing that you'll show me no mercy." He grinned at her. "Do your worst!"
With that, he scooped up a handful of snow and flung it in her direction, taking advantage of her momentary surprise to dart away towards one of the benches that sat at the ends of the small backyard space. Ducking down behind the seat, he quickly made a snowball. He didn't pack it as tightly as he could have, not wanting to risk striking Sadie with anything too hard, so the projectile didn't fly particularly well, but his aim was true, and soon the landlord's daughter was sporting a splattering of powder across the front of her coat, though she gamely lobbed her own snowball over the bench in answer, nearly hitting Davey despite the fact that he was partially concealed from view.
It ended up being a fairly even fight; Sadie was quicker and more experienced, but Davey had the advantage of cover and bigger hands, so his larger snowballs did more damage than her petite projectiles. Eventually, though, he had exhausted all of the snow behind his makeshift shelter and was forced back out into the open. He made a run for the bench on the opposite side of the yard, but Sadie gave chase, pelting him with snowballs even as she rapidly lost ground due to frequently having to stop and re-arm herself.
Davey quickly outpaced her, then slowed his footsteps and turned around even as he continued to walk slowly backwards towards his destination. Now that he could catch his breath a bit, he found himself surprised at how easily it had been to slip into play once things had gotten started. He'd expected to feel awkward and self-conscious and to merely endure the game for a respectable amount of time just to make Sadie happy, but as he plodded backwards in the snow, watching her trudge after him, he realized that he was actually having fun.
"Might as well give up, Chare," he called out. "You're not going to catch me."
"Surrender?" she huffed, even as she struggled to gain ground. "Never!"
"I can do this all day," Davey insisted. "You're getting tired, I can tell." He'd been able to conserve most of his energy from his defensive post, but she'd had to constantly move to avoid his snow barrage, and her shorter legs weren't doing her any favors.
"I'm...just...getting started." Sadie's words came out slightly breathless, but she gamely marched forward, defiantly tossing a snowball in his direction which flew straight but landed pitifully short of its intended target.
"Looks like long range isn't your strong point," Davey observed. The silliness of the snowball fight had brought out his teasing side, and he found himself not as circumspect with his words as he normally would have been. "If this is the worst you can do, Chare, I'm not very impressed with your - "
His taunting abruptly ended in a cry of dismay as he tripped over an uneven patch of ground, falling backwards into one of the snowdrifts bordering the yard. The blanket of white cushioned his fall, but the wind was knocked out of him, and he found himself gasping for air, staring up at the sky like a fish out of water.
For a moment he lay there, trying to calm his breathing as he heard the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow.
Then Sadie appeared in his field of vision, her eyes bright with amusement.
"Well, this is a bit of poetic justice!" she mused, looking down at him. "All of that teasing and swaggering when you could have just walked straight ahead and avoided falling into the very snowdrift I believe you were threatening to toss me into only moments ago." She scooped up a handful of powder, smirking as she packed it slowly and deliberately.
"I'll ask you again, Mr. Jacobs," she said, dropping to her knees at his side. "Do you surrender and declare me the victor?" She brandished her snowball. "Or shall I have to strong arm you into submission?"
Despite the threat in her words, her smile was warm, and as she knelt over him, playful and pink-cheeked and covered in a light dusting of snow, Davey found the words of his half-formed retort melting away. Suddenly, he didn't feel the chill of the ice seeping through his coat or the sharp air going in and out of his lungs, didn't feel the weight of his snow-covered clothes, or even remember why he hated the cold so much.
All he knew was that as he looked at her, something inside of him was thawing - inhibition or hesitation or resistance or fear, or maybe something that he couldn't quite name yet, even if it was as real to him as the nose on his face. He felt warm, wrapped up in her smile that was like sunlight self-contained, gentle and glowing and so full of life that he simply wanted to close his eyes and let it soak in...
His brief reverie ended as Sadie brought her hand down, impishly crushing the snowball against his forehead. Davey gasped as the icy sensation prickled against his skin, and he found himself staring up at her in shock.
"I win," she said simply, getting to her feet and walking away.
"You can't just change the rules whenever you feel like it!" he called after her, the retort coming off rather feeble-sounding given the fact that he was still flat on his back with the remains of a snowball smashed across his face. "I never said I surrendered, so you can't declare victory yet!" He heard the sound of her laughter and smiled in spite of himself, scrambling up into a sitting position and feeling the chill of the snow immediately return as a slight breeze gusted through the yard.
Brushing himself off as best as he could, Davey stood, then walked over to where Sadie was waiting for him. "We probably should at least declare a temporary truce now, Chare," he suggested. "It's getting dark, and the wind seems to be picking up. We don't want to get sick."
"That seems wise," she agreed. "You kindly indulged my ridiculousness in starting this snowball fight in the first place, so I'll happily concede to your sensible recommendation that we ought to cease fire for the time being. It is getting rather chilly."
With a smile, she held out her hand. "Truce, Mr. Jacobs?"
He enveloped her gloved hand in his own, and her fingers were warm. "Truce, Miss Becker," he concurred. "You fought well and were a more than worthy opponent."
"As were you," she dipped her head graciously in acknowledgement, "if we overlook that last little fall of yours."
"You're not going to forget that, are you?" Davey sighed as they began to walk towards the front of the tenement.
"No indeed." Sadie smiled. "It's not often that I get to see you so playful and childlike."
"There's a reason for that." Davey wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to ward off the chill. "It's generally an ungainly sight."
"But an endearing one, nonetheless," she remonstrated lightly. "I rather like this side of you."
The cold seemed to dissipate again at her assertion, and he found himself trying to hide an embarrassed, happy smile, though true to form, he couldn't manage to come up with what to say in response.
They climbed the stairs to the third floor, content to walk in amicable silence, their pace gradually slowing as they neared the Becker apartment.
"I hope that your parents won't be too displeased when you return home half-soaked and chilled to the bone," Sadie ventured. "My mother and father won't think anything of it, as this type of silliness is rather in character for me, but I'm sure that's not the case with you. I probably ought to have considered it before trying to coerce you into such a potentially insalubrious diversion."
She glanced at him hesitantly, as though a troubling thought had just crossed her mind. "I hope I didn't overstep or make you uncomfortable either, Davey," she added. "I know this isn't something you'd normally do, and I was rather relentless in my badgering - "
"Chare," he cut in. "I enjoyed every minute. Really." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Thank you."
"You sound like someone who just had fun playing in the snow," she teased gently. "Not at all like the boy who insisted that he'd like to get rid of Winter and didn't see the point in cold weather games."
"I'm still not fond of Winter," he admitted. "But I might have been wrong about the games. They do make the snow a little more tolerable. At least, they do when you're playing them with the right kind of person."
"Fair enough," she smiled, catching his callback to her earlier words. "I pronounce today's bit of ridiculousness an unqualified success."
She looked him over, her eyes lingering on the snow still dusting his coat, then added softly, "I'd better let you get out of the cold, though. Goodnight, Davey. Thank you for all of your help today."
"Goodnight, Chare," he answered, waiting until she'd shut the door behind her before turning to head towards the stairs. He would have taken his time walking back to his own family's apartment, something in him reluctant to return, but the cold was rapidly seeping through his coat, and he found himself quickening his pace, shivering a little as he made his way down to the second floor.
As soon as he stepped through the door, he was greeted by the slightly shocked faces of his mother and younger brother.
"What happened to you, David?" Les exclaimed. "Did you get in a fight with a snowbank and lose?"
"Something like that." Davey quickly hung up his damp cap and coat, not wanting to answer any more questions than necessary. "Dinner smells good, Mom," he remarked, attempting to move the conversation along. "What are you making?"
"Mutton stew," she answered. "I'll have it ready within the hour; I know you've got a tutoring session to get to."
"Actually, I won't be going over to the Beckers' tonight." Davey took a seat at the kitchen table, thankful for the warmth of the nearby stove. "School was cancelled today, so there's no lesson to review."
"How'd you know that?" Les queried, giving him a probing look.
"You didn't tell Mom about school being cancelled?" Davey countered, belatedly realizing that he'd divulged some information he ought not to have mentioned if he'd wished to avoid questioning.
"It never came up," Les shrugged. "I was at Martin's." His expression was slightly suspicious. "But you'd have no way of knowing about class being cancelled."
"I ran into Sadie on my way home from selling," Davey admitted, deciding that it was time to cut his losses and provide an answer on his own terms rather than have his brother ferret it out with leading questions.
"You were with Sadie?" Les grinned. "Is she the one who pushed you into the snowbank?"
"No," Davey said quickly. "It was my fault. I fell into it. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"You're not usually that clumsy, David," his mother remarked, and he could hear the curiosity in her voice, though she didn't ask any questions.
"I just wasn't thinking," he side-stepped. "I...had a lot on my mind at the time."
He saw a fond, knowing look cross his mother's face, but before he could parse out what it meant, she said briskly, "Well, seeing as you won't need to devote yourself to studying tonight, I'd suggest that you take it easy. You've been working hard and deserve the time off. I know it's been difficult lately, and that you haven't had much time for yourself, but it would make me happy to see you relax a little and do something that you enjoy."
"I am trying to be better about that," he answered. "Having fun, I mean. And relaxing more." He gave his mom a half-smile. "I know it's good for me. Even if it doesn't feel natural to do it."
He could tell that his answer surprised her but that she was pleased.
"I'm glad to hear it, David." She patted him on the shoulder. "I'm going to make you something warm to drink, but in the meantime, I'd advise you to change into some dry clothes. Your shirt's still damp from the snow." And without another word, she returned to the stove, leaving Davey to avert his gaze from his brother's suspicious looks and hurry away to follow his mother's instructions.
A/N: One last bit of fluff before we go back to our serious storylines. Thanks for reading this bit! I'd be so happy to hear any remarks you have on it if you'd be willing to leave a review; your continued interest means a lot to me, truly.
