Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney. Original characters and narrative are mine.


Chapter 134: Overheard

The taste of liquor offered a sharp, welcoming burn, and Oscar drained the last of his whiskey slowly and deliberately, setting the empty glass down on the wooden countertop before wordlessly motioning for the bartender to bring him another drink.

He was alone this particular Friday evening; Morris had gone home to sleep, tired out by a long day and bereft of the cash that would have allowed him to imbibe alongside his brother. Occasionally, Oscar would pick up the tab, but he was feeling especially uncharitable that evening and hadn't offered to do so.

A moroseness had fallen over him ever since Crawford had stopped by the distribution center that afternoon to exchange a few words with Wiesel. Their conference had been brief, and Crawford hadn't said anything to Oscar or Morris before leaving, but the look on his face had been words enough, and Oscar had shown hardly a flicker of surprise (or felt any emotion, truth be told), when Wiesel had called him and Morris over to gravely inform them that their father was rapidly declining and was not expected to outlast the week.

Morris had looked vaguely troubled, but Oscar hadn't found it in himself to care.

After his last visit to their father, he'd suspected that the end was near, but against all odds, the son of a gun had managed to cling to life for over a month and a half now, so it wouldn't surprise Oscar a bit if he stubbornly hung around a week or two longer than he was supposed to.

Despite his unflagging indifference to his father's impending dissolution, Oscar had felt uneasy from that point on, so he'd headed towards the little pub on Worth Street after the distribution center had ceased operations for the day. The drinking establishment, unfortunately, had been rather crowded upon his arrival, but he'd managed to secure a spot for himself at the end of the bar and had spent the next half hour nursing his liquor and the ire that was constantly simmering in the back of his mind.

The bartender had just set down a second drink when Oscar heard the sound of familiar voices behind him.

"...I'm gonna be headin' down there again next week, so I'll see if I can catch a whiff of anything else that seems fishy, but I really gotta talk to Cal and find out what's goin' on. I sure hope it ain't comin' to a full on turf war - those scuffles end up helpin' no one, but ya can't expect a braggart like Gar to use his head, not when he only thinks with his fists."

"Surprisin' that they'd even risk startin' somethin' with Queens after what happened to Jax."

Higgins and Kelly, Oscar thought, not bothering to turn around. The two newsies had entered the pub and seated themselves at the table just behind him, clearly unaware that he was there at the bar, situated well within earshot of their conversation.

This could be interesting.

It was one thing to try to glean compromising information about his adversaries while in their company, but quite another to eavesdrop on them when they were oblivious to his presence and more likely to talk freely. Weaknesses had a way of being revealed when tongues were loosened, and Oscar found himself eager to exploit whatever bits of information that the newsie leaders would divulge.

"You'd better be careful when you head to the Bronx, Racer," Kelly continued warningly. "I know you's goin' down there for good reason and that you gotta see your sister, but I don't want you gettin' picked off along the way, all right?"

"Aw, Jacky," Higgins drawled cheekily, "when have I ever not been careful?"

"Could think of more than a few times," Kelly huffed. "'Specially after the chimney incident."

"But you's lookin' at a fella who's reformed and respectable now!" Higgins quipped, clearly intent on disregarding the serious tone underlying the other newsie's words. "I've mended my juvenile ways, so there ain't no reason to be worryin' about little ol' me."

"'Course there's reason," Kelly retorted. "If somethin' happens to you, who's gonna take care of things at the lodgin' house when I can't be there, huh?"

"Ah, Crutchie'll do just fine."

"You know he don't like bein' put in charge of the fellas."

"Davey, then."

Kelly sighed, determined, it seemed, not to succumb to his fellow newsie's attempts at levity. "I dunno, Racer - I'm pretty sure Dave's gonna start havin' a hard time movin' his papes soon if he ain't strugglin' a little already. It don't help that he's got that serious look, like he oughta be lecturin' at some high-falutin' college instead of bein' out on the street hawkin' headlines. I don't think he's gonna be able to last much longer - he's already too old, and looks it."

Higgins snorted a laugh. "Well, I ain't arguin' with you about the lecturin' thing, but it seems like he ain't doin' too bad for himself. He's got some real loyal customers that like his honesty, and with his other job at the tenement payin' out, he ain't hurtin' for work."

Kelly gave a noncommittal grunt.

"What's got'cha so serious tonight, anyway?" Higgins jabbed. "You's still movin' papes pretty well yourself, even if you ain't a day younger than Davey, you got a date comin' up with your girl, and in the meantime, you got me to keep you company! It don't get much better than that."

"Guess not," Kelly conceded, and Oscar could hear the grin in his voice. "Can't say I'm lookin' forward to another fancy dinner, but Katherine's been dyin' to take me to this place - she says they got the best steak in town."

"And this time you won't have ol' Pulitzer breathin' down your neck," Higgins observed. "That oughta make it a much more pleasurable dinin' experience."

"Yeah," Kelly scoffed, "as long as I can remember all the rules and manners that Davey taught me. Pretty sure I forgot most of it, but I don't want to embarrass Katherine if I don't haf'ta."

Here they were interrupted by the arrival of a server asking if they'd like anything to eat or drink, and Oscar took a sip of his whisky as Higgins ordered a sausage sandwich and a root beer, while Kelly - who was apparently going to be dining at a much more upscale establishment later that night - requested only a seltzer water.

Oscar was surprised that neither of them had ordered liquor - Kelly, he was almost certain, was of age, and Higgins didn't seem like the type to exercise temperance, despite the fact that he was probably a year or two away from being able to legally indulge - but perhaps neither of them had the money at the time.

The root beer and the seltzer water arrived quickly, and Oscar heard the sound of Higgins taking an audible gulp of his soda.

"Hey, goin' back to the subject of Davey," he said, after letting out a small belch, "I ain't talked to him since that little incident at the lodgin' house. He still out of sorts 'bout what Romeo said?"

"Nah." Kelly took a sip of his drink before continuing. "I think he was just kinda surprised, that's all. He knows the younger boys mouth off sometimes. It weren't so much about the words themselves as it was about him feelin' like he don't fit in with the rest of us."

"'Cause of the whole not bein' able to get a girl thing?"

"Pretty sure it's more than that. He told me he ain't even interested in goin' after anyone right now."

Higgins snorted. "Yeah, that's probably what he's tellin' himself, even if he's lyin' through his teeth."

"I dunno, he sounded sure to me."

"You gotta see how he acts around her, Jacky," Higgins insisted. "It's like watchin' a puppy waitin' for his favorite person to come out and play a game of fetch - like she's his whole world in that moment, even if she ain't so much as givin' him a second glance."

Kelly chuckled at the simile. "Guess I'll have to see it to believe it, then. Can't imagine it myself, not the way he was talkin', unless he's just holdin' back for some reason."

"Well, you met Beck briefly, didn'tcha?" Higgins slurped his drink. "She's a real chirky one, not the kinda gal you'd think would go for a fella like Davey."

"Yeah, I actually thought the same thing at first," Kelly admitted. "Don't think it's hopeless by a long shot...but I guess it ain't a sure bet, either."

"Exactly," Higgins pronounced. "It ain't a sure bet. And I'm pretty sure Dave knows that, too, which is probably why he's holdin' back. You know he ain't exactly plush with confidence when it comes to his good qualities."

"That's kinda what I was tryin' to talk to him about," Kelly disclosed. "It's like he don't realize what he's got to offer, 'cause he's so used to not fittin' in. Seems like all the movin' did a number on him, even if he don't say so."

"Well, not havin' a place to hang your hat is hard on a fella," Higgins acknowledged. "You's lived your whole life in Manhattan, and I had a tough time movin' across the Bridge just that once. Can't imagine how it'd feel to be startin' over again every few years. Probably would've done things to me, too, and I ain't a sensitive fella like Davey is."

The chair behind Oscar squeaked as Kelly sat back. "Guess we all got our scars from the past," the newsie leader sighed. "If it ain't from parents dyin' or skippin' out on us, it's gettin' hauled around from one place to the next and never havin' a chance to breathe. The world's a cruel place when you's poor."

"I like to think of it as my oyster." Higgins declared. "It's all in what'cha make of the lousy situations and bum turns. If a fella can stop cryin' over what ain't workin' and just take advantage of what he's got, he's gonna find treasure enough in the small things of life, long as he ain't too caught up in noticin' the trash."

"You always was an optimist, Racer."

"Just one of my many charms."

The gambler's sandwich arrived then, and the conversation shifted back to the subject of Kelly's upcoming dinner that night with Katherine Pulitzer. Oscar listened with half an ear, not particularly interested in the romance developing between Kelly and the heiress. It was a juicy piece of gossip from a certain standpoint, but it did nothing to help him in his pursuit of discovering the newsie leader's weaknesses. If anything, Kelly's association with Pulitzer - no matter how tenuous and unconventional - had made him more invulnerable to any retribution that Oscar would have liked to mete out. It was pure foolishness to lay a hand on anyone connected to the powerful newspaper tycoon who employed you (unless, of course, you were doing so under said newspaper tycoon's orders), and though Oscar could sense that there was no particular fondness between Kelly and his potential father-in-law, he wasn't willing to risk losing his job.

Nothing particularly helpful had come to light regarding Higgins, either; Oscar was already aware of the gambler's sister - he'd come into possession of that knowledge several months ago in the middle of the night halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge, when an outnumbered and overpowered Higgins had accidentally let the information slip in an attempt to mitigate the soaking that Oscar and Morris were visiting upon him. That incident - still cloaked in secrecy, as far as Oscar knew - had served both to check Higgins' insolence and to mollify Oscar's ire. He knew that Higgins wouldn't divulge the identity of his assailants (for the leverage that Oscar held over him was too great, and the threat that he'd levied had been enough to keep Higgins silent), so there was no fear of retaliation from Kelly or the other boys, and now that the gambler's cheeky remarks and impertinent bravado had been quelled, Oscar was content to let him be, satisfied in the knowledge that he'd soundly bested his opponent, and that Higgins knew it too.

Jacobs, however, was another story, a yet-unsettled score in the records of Oscar's mental ledger, and Oscar found himself unexpectedly pleased as he continued to sip his whiskey, mulling over the information that Higgins and Kelly had inadvertently disclosed about their fellow newsie.

He'd already known that Jacobs wasn't as confident as the other boys, but that hesitation had always seemed to be more of a personality trait than anything else. Knowing that it stemmed, rather, from a deep-seated sense of not belonging provided a much more tenable foothold when it came to exploiting a weakness, for isolating an enemy was the first step towards defeating him, and if Jacobs was already isolating himself (even if only in his mind), it would be that much easier for Oscar to use that to his advantage.

The information regarding the obliquely-mentioned "Beck" (Becky? Rebecca?) was intriguing as well, for Oscar recalled overhearing Higgins teasing Jacobs about someone by that very name several weeks ago at the distribution center. Women were liabilities as a whole - Oscar himself could attest to this - but being weak for one woman in particular left a fellow especially vulnerable, so there was no doubt that this, too, could be used against Jacobs in the future, especially if the newsie was unsure as to where he stood with this girl whom he seemed to fancy.

There was an especially satisfying way of getting to a person's head when it came to pressing on their insecurities, and Oscar was nothing if not adept at doing that very thing. He'd crushed enemies with far less knowledge of their weaknesses than this, and if Jacobs was really as "sensitive" as Higgins had described him, well, that would only make his humiliation and defeat more easily brought about once an opportunity to enact such retribution presented itself.

All in all, it had been a respectable half-hour of unexpected information-gleaning, and as Oscar finished up the rest of his drink, he felt a grim sense of satisfaction settle over him.

"Well, I'd better be headin' back to the lodgin' house to get dressed before I meet Katherine at Delmonico's," Kelly's voice broke into his thoughts. Oscar heard the sound of the newsie leader's chair scraping against the floor. "She usually ain't one to scold about my tardiness, but we got reservations for six-thirty, and it's gonna get things started off on the wrong foot if I ain't there on time."

"I'll walk with ya." Higgins slurped down the rest of his root beer, and Oscar heard the sound of coins being set down on the table, followed by the voices of the two newsies receding as they made their way out of the pub.

Digging into his own wallet, Oscar paid for his drinks and then left as well, glancing up the street at the retreating figures of Higgins and Kelly as the two newsies disappeared into the trickle of foot traffic going to and fro under the dusk of the deepening twilight. His eyes narrowed just slightly for a moment as he watched them go...and then he stuck his hands in his pockets and slunk in the opposite direction, making his way towards home.


"Good evening and welcome back, Miss Pulitzer. It's always a pleasure to see you again."

Katherine smiled at the evening host of Delmonico's. "It's a pleasure to see you as well, Bruno," she replied, "and it's been far too long. We're already two months into the new century, and I have yet to sink my teeth into a Delmonico's steak!"

The man chuckled. "You always had a good appetite. I still remember the first time your father brought you here and you practically inhaled your Eggs Benedict! That's when all of the wait staff decided that you were one of our favorite patrons. Speaking of which," he inquired politely, "how is Mr. Pulitzer doing?"

"He's staying busy," Katherine answered vaguely. "There's always work to be done at The World."

"Well, do give him my regards the next time you see him," Bruno smiled, and Katherine promised that she would.

"I can show you to your table now, if you'd like," the host offered. "You have reservations for six-thirty, if I'm not mistaken, but it's nearing that time now, and we'd be happy to provide you with a drink on the house while you wait."

"That would be lovely," Katherine agreed. She expected Jack to arrive at least a few minutes late to even something as important as their belated Valentine's Day dinner, so she might as well make herself comfortable.

Following Bruno, she made her way up the familiar stairway that led to the second floor of the establishment. The sound of clinking cutlery and the polite chatter of guests greeted her as she stepped onto the landing, taking in the familiar sight of the restaurant's upper-class patrons enjoying lobster and lamb chops and Delmonico's famous steaks. Delicious smells wafted from scores of delectable dishes, and Katherine found her stomach rumbling in expectation as Bruno seated her at a table for two by the windows, which offered a lovely view of the street below as it fell under the diminishing glow of the dusky twilight.

After ordering herself some coffee, Katherine settled her napkin in her lap and surreptitiously perused the room, searching for any familiar faces. It wasn't uncommon to run across friends or acquaintances whenever she dined at Delmonico's, and she assumed that tonight would be no different, especially since it was the weekend following Valentine's Day, which meant there would be more couples than usual going out to eat.

The first recognizable faces she saw were the Byrons, old family friends of her father's. They were regulars at the upscale Manhattan establishment, and Katherine wasn't at all surprised to see them dining at their usual table near the center of the room. She wondered if their daughter had gotten married yet. Katherine had run across Victoria several weeks prior while out shopping, and the young woman had none-too-subtly flaunted her diamond engagement ring while they'd chatted briefly before going their separate ways.

It's only fifteen karat gold, the socialite had remarked in a perfunctory show of nonchalance, but the diamonds were Ambrose's grandmother's, and they're worth a fortune! Speaking of which, she'd raised an eyebrow, I hear you've got yourself quite a beau, Kathy - a newsboy, is that right?

Katherine found herself bristling at the memory. She'd smiled placidly at the other woman's condescension, brushing off the catty remark with a lighthearted quip about love doing what it does, but inwardly Victoria's superciliousness had made her seethe.

It always had always been a mixed bag when it came to Katherine's high society friends and acquaintances. While some were cut from the same cloth as the pretentious Victoria, others were agreeable enough, and there were even a few whom Katherine had been close to for a time, but many of the latter had drifted out of her orbit when she'd taken on her job at The Sun. The demands of her work schedule meant that she hadn't had the time or the inclination to attend the social engagements necessary to maintain her previous circle of acquaintance (and she'd always considered those obligations excessive anyway), so it hadn't been difficult to leave them behind, and Lena, Thom, and her other coworkers had become her new friends and acquaintances. The exchange was a worthwhile one, as far as Katherine was concerned, and though there were fleeting moments when she missed the glitz and glamor of high society, most of the time she was more than content with the far more stimulating, down-to-earth company that she'd chosen, and run-ins with those like Victoria only solidified the conviction that a smaller and more modest circle of friends didn't mean a less-fulfilling one.

Setting the thought of the conceited young woman aside, Katherine continued to scan the room. She recognized a few more familiar figures amongst the crowd, idly sipping her coffee and wondering about each one of them as she did so. Bruno's well-intended but unlooked-for mention of her father had brought up a stirring of bittersweet emotion, and that feeling was only furthered by seeing several of the newspaper owner's friends and colleagues seated throughout the room.

On a typical day, was easy enough for Katherine to forget the familial falling-out, to focus on the demands of work, and to immerse herself in thoughts of Jack and dreams of their future without contemplating the past, but these quiet moments were when she found herself thinking of her father and wondering - as a daughter, and not as a professional competitor - if he was well, and if he felt as conflicted over their abrupt parting as she occasionally did. It had been a month and a half of estrangement, by far the longest time that they'd gone without speaking to each other, but he hadn't broken the impasse yet, so maybe any lingering regret was all on her side.

She knew that they'd both acted from what they'd considered to be her best interest, and that, in an odd way, her father's detachment was a twisted type of kindness. He'd wanted her to consider the reality of what a life of poverty would mean, and had followed through on his threat to let her experience the full consequences of her choices in the hope that she'd come to her senses and renege before stepping back from that life was no longer an option.

The financial implications of the decision had certainly been felt: Katherine could no longer dine out whenever she pleased or purchase on a whim whatever she saw in the stores that caught her eye. She was already preparing to give up her lavish apartment in exchange for more modest accommodations, and had begun regularly walking to run her across-town errands rather than taking a carriage as she was accustomed to. She shopped at the grocer's more often, cooked her own food, and even attempted to do some simple mending, outsourcing only the more complicated jobs to the tailor. None of it had come naturally to her, and she'd realized quite quickly that, if she were to continue her relationship with Jack and embrace a life of poverty, she'd have quite a lot to learn. That sobering realization hadn't weakened her resolve...but it had given her pause on more than one occasion.

She'd insisted on dining at Delmonico's that evening in celebration of Valentine's Day, an expense that she really couldn't justify but also couldn't stop herself from indulging in. She missed the taste of a masterfully-cooked steak, the delight of getting dressed up for the evening, and the convenience of having someone wait on you, catering to your every whim. Before breaking with her father, these things would have been constants in her life, easily taken for granted, but now they were absolute luxuries, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of this evening, for she didn't know when another one like it would come her way again.

Taking another sip of coffee, Katherine was about to glance at her wristwatch to check the time, when her attention was caught by the appearance of a young woman who had just ascended the stairs. If Katherine hadn't been looking in the right direction at that exact moment, she might have missed the new arrival altogether, for she was a demure-looking young woman, neither striking in face nor in stature, yet Katherine knew from experience that this unassuming appearance belied a keen and efficient personality.

Waiting until the other woman had been shown to her table, Katherine rose and made her way over, eager to extend her greetings.

"Jenny!" she smiled as she drew near. "What a coincidence running into you here!"

The secretary looked up in surprise. "Oh, hello, Miss Plumber. It's a coincidence indeed! If we had known that we'd both be heading this direction, we could have walked over from The Sun together after work." She motioned to the seat across from her. "Would you like to join me for a moment? I'm waiting for someone, but it seems that he's running unusually late."

"We're in the same boat, then," Katherine acknowledged as she sat down in the proffered chair. "Though in the case of my dining companion, this tardiness is far from unusual."

"He must be quite special for you to put up with it," Jenny smiled. "Is this the newsboy you used to bring to Ms. McClain's office on occasion?"

It was an unusually candid question for the business-like secretary, but Katherine didn't mind, for there was no censure in Jenny's tone, only a genuine curiosity.

"It's the newsboy," she affirmed. "His name is Jack, and he's the one who led the strike against my - against Joseph Pulitzer and The World." The little slip-up was out of character for her (she'd gotten used to speaking of her father in a detached manner with her colleagues at The Sun), but Jenny didn't seem to notice the near-gaffe, or if she did, she didn't remark on it.

"How long have you and Jack been seeing each other?" she asked instead.

"For about seven months," Katherine disclosed. "It feels longer, but that's probably because we've been through so much together already."

It was only conjecture on her part; while she had plenty of experience dealing with men in social and professional contexts, she hadn't been in a serious relationship with anyone before Jack, but that lack of experience hadn't translated into any hesitation on her part when it had come to pursuing him and trying to establish a lasting commitment. She was a Pulitzer, after all: she knew what she wanted when she saw it, and entertained few doubts that she'd be able to procure it in the long run.

Of course, she'd had to temper that fervor with some restraint. Jack was a free spirit in many ways, unused to the confines and expectations of polite society, wary of settling down, and (Katherine was sure), far more seasoned than she was when it came to dalliances of a romantic nature. He'd initially pulled back when she'd pressed him about his plans for the future, and though she sensed that he was beginning to warm up to the idea, he certainly hadn't proposed yet.

Remembering Jenny, she gave the secretary a smile. "What about your gentleman?" she asked. "Is he a long-time suitor, or a recent acquaintance?" Jenny was fairly quiet and focused at work, the demands of her job not affording her much leisure to share about her personal affairs, but it wouldn't be surprising at all to learn that she had an active social life after hours.

"He's a newer acquaintance," Jenny disclosed. "We met near the end of last year, in fact. I was out running some errands on a windy day and had a stack of mail in my hands, and one of the letters got away from me. He kindly helped me retrieve it, and we got to talking. It turns out that he works in the newspaper business, too, and even though his position is much more prestigious than mine, he asserted that he wouldn't be able to accomplish anything without his own secretaries and administrative assistants' help."

A slightly-bashful smile accompanied the declaration, and Katherine could hear the note of fondness in the other woman's voice.

"I think there was an early interest on both sides," Jenny continued, "but he was forthright with me and admitted that he'd just recently had his heart broken by a woman he'd fancied for years. He said that he was still getting over the loss, and that it wasn't fair to me for him to jump into something so soon when he couldn't be sure how long it would take for him to heal. I thought it was sweet of him to be so honest, and told him that if it suited him, we could take things slow and step back if it got to be too much. He agreed, and we started meeting twice a week for casual lunches, just to get to know each other. I never would have expected that we'd get along so well, but things have been going splendidly, and we've already met each other's families. This is the first time that we've gone to a nice restaurant for dinner, though. I'm looking forward to the meal, for I've heard that the steak at Delmonico's is the best in town."

Katherine was about to affirm the assertion, when she heard the beat of footsteps approaching behind her and the sound of a familiar voice rising just slightly above the din of the dining room chatter.

"Sorry I'm late, Jenny. Something came up at the office, and I was only able to get away just now, but in the meantime, it appears that you've made a new friend..."

Katherine turned over her shoulder, the pieces of Jenny's narrative and the cadence of that familiar voice fitting together as she looked up into the face of an equally-astonished Darcy Reid.

"Katherine!" he exclaimed.

"Hello, Darcy," she smiled, rising to vacate his chair. "I was just having a chat with Jenny while we waited."

"I knew you both worked for The Sun, but I didn't realize you were already acquainted," he faltered.

"We actually work on the same floor," Katherine disclosed, hoping that her lighthearted tone of voice would put him at ease and convey her approval of his recently-revealed connection. "Jenny is wonderful at her job - she manages to keep the ever-changing tasks of several of our editors organized and straightforward, and she's quite efficient. I'm sure that things would fall to shambles if she wasn't there."

"I've told her the same thing myself," Darcy agreed, smiling at the secretary. "No business becomes successful on the merits of its executives alone; a good support staff is equally important."

Noticing that Katherine had moved aside so that he could take his seat, he quickly added, "Would you like me to ask for another chair? I can call the host."

"That won't be necessary," Katherine assured him. "Jenny and I were only chatting to pass the time." She smiled at the other woman. "I should have put two and two together earlier, but your beau is actually a childhood friend of mine, and I'm so pleased that you two have found each other. He is a good man, and deserves to be happy."

The words were directed towards Jenny, but they were meant for Darcy as well, and as Katherine glanced in his direction, she saw that he knew.

"Perhaps some other time we all should get lunch together," the secretary suggested amiably. "The three of us, and Jack, too."

Katherine was about to make a polite excuse, but Darcy quickly interjected.

"I think that's a great idea, Jenny." He met Katherine's eye. "It would be a good opportunity for us to get to know him better."

It was a slightly-cautious concession, but it was a sincere one, and she silently gave him a look of gratitude in return for the olive branch.

"Speaking of Jack," Jenny observed, "it looks like he just arrived."

"I'll be off, then," Katherine said, giving her companions a smile. "But it was pleasant to see you both, and I hope that you'll enjoy your dinner."

Darcy and Jenny cordially returned her farewell, and she turned away to walk across the room and join Jack, who was just settling himself into his seat. He was wearing the suit that she'd bought him for dining with her father and appeared to have made at least a cursory effort to clean up a little, but it was also clear from the rumpled appearance of his attire that his preparations had been rushed at best and an afterthought at worst.

Face the facts: he'll always be a newsboy, came the thought.

Katherine nearly stopped in her tracks at the morose concession and the flicker of disappointment that accompanied it. It wasn't like her to think poorly of Jack. She'd written him off for his scruffy appearance when they'd first met, of course…but that was when she hadn't known him yet. Once his charming, good-hearted nature had shown itself (and she'd gotten a second look at his handsome face), she'd fallen in love with him head over heels and hadn't looked back…

…but there must have been something in the aristocratic air of Delmonico's that had stirred up an unlooked-for discontentment.

Shake it off, Katherine, she told herself as she arrived at the table where her sweetheart was fiddling with his incorrectly-knotted tie.

"Hey, Plumber," he greeted her as she took her seat across from him. "Sorry for the hold up. You enjoy talkin' to your friends?"

The question was delivered in a slightly-wary tone, likely a combination of slight embarrassment and lingering suspicion due to Darcy's presence, and Katherine found her momentary displeasure giving way to a hint of fondness. Despite Jack's tardy arrival and his slightly disheveled appearance, he was still the most handsome man in the room, and what mattered was that he had made an effort.

She could be content with that.

"I did enjoy my conversation with Darcy and Jenny," she replied in answer to his question. "I had no idea that they were seeing each other, but I'm happy for them both."

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry to see that Mr. Reid's found himself a girl of his own," Jack admitted wryly. "Means I don't have to worry about some blue-blooded swell swoopin' in to steal you away no more."

"Darcy's not the only blue-blooded swell out there," Katherine couldn't help quipping, but she immediately dropped the humor when she saw a look of consternation flicker across Jack's face.

"Have you looked at the menu yet?" she asked, changing the subject. "The steaks are on page three."

"I ain't had a chance to peruse the merchandise yet," Jack replied, scratching his head as though he was still trying to recover from her cheekily-delivered retort. "Everything sure smells good, though."

"The filet here is even better than what my father's chef makes," Katherine promised. "I know you'll love it."

The enthusiasm in her voice must have allayed the last of Jack's misgivings, for a grin stretched across his face, the first sign of levity that he'd shown since arriving.

"That beef dish was the only good memory I have of that evenin'," he admitted. "Guess I could stand to try somethin' even better...especially if you's so excited about it." He reached across the table to squeeze her hand, his eyes finding hers. "Thanks, Plumber."

She returned his smile and he withdrew his hand, settling himself a little more comfortably into his chair as he began to flip curiously through the menu, openly fascinated by the many offerings detailed therein.

It was an endearing picture, and Katherine found her fondness growing as she took another sip of her now-lukewarm coffee.

The boy across the table was poor, and he was rough around the edges in so many ways, but he had a heart of gold, and that was something no polish or pedigree could ever hope to replace. In the eyes of the world, their union was unconventional and ill-advised, and there would always be an abundance wagging tongues to disparage a heiress' choice to risk it all for an unknown future with a newsboy…but there were a great many things that the world was wrong about.

You don't owe anyone an explanation, Katherine reminded herself. Just enjoy your dinner, and set the rest aside.

There would be other days to broach the matters of punctuality and proper etiquette with Jack, other days to reflect on the practical changes that their continuing relationship would require, other days to stamp out the flicker of discontentment that had momentarily flared to life for reasons still not entirely clear…

But for now, Katherine decided, today was not that day.


A/N: A handful of you were so sympathetic and concerned for Darcy back when he and Katherine had their falling out, so I hope that the second part of this chapter gave you a bit of comfort. Thank you for reading this installment - I'd be keen to know any of your thoughts about it, including Oscar's section at the beginning. :) Things are going to be getting decidedly more interesting soon...