The Dog Days are Over-OPEN

[Peep]

Peep was pissed. Perhaps this was an understatement. Or maybe this was the perfect word. No matter how you looked at it, Peep was in full leader mode as he stalked up and down the aisles of the former Irving Hall. Dancer, his Dancer, had been injured in the blaze and he was out for vengence. And for once, his sources had dried up, his informants (who he paid heavily for these types of things) had gone silent and many had even disappeared. Apparently, many believed the Irving Hall fire had to do with mob activity, and no one wanted to be involved. Except for apparently, Peep.

He frowned and kicked what looked like it might have been piece of a table over and part of it crumbled into dust. He closed his eyes and thought back to that night. Darling had looked particulary pretty that night, and everyone had been having a good time. Even Peep let loose a little and allowed a few pickpockets near the table. He'd drunk some and even gotten tipsy, which was extremely rare for him, and he'd even let Brooklyn dance with one of the Staten Island girls.

But then someone had smelled smoke, from somewhere in the back, and all chaos had broken loose. He remembered grabbing Darling and shoving her into the arms of Jumper or the Entertainer or someone. Maybe even Brooklyn or that singer Broadway. He remembered seeing a flash of blonde hair that he knew was the low life criminal Street's... Peep opened his eyes and found he was at the spot his table had sat that night. He tried to remember where everyone had been sitting, but the alcohol he'd consumed that night made it difficult.

He remembered shoving Brooklyn out of the way, maybe off the stage? He remembered seeing a priest shouting and pointing people in the right direction... He remembered seeing an Irish woman crying in a corner, the bad tempered Manhattan newsie Drama heading toward her... A cracking sound and then the balcony had collapsed, obscuring the three from his view. He remembered Liv Chevalier screaming and then fainting in the aisle. She was almost stepped on when Street and another pickpocket came by and disappeared with her.

And then Peep remembered seeing Dancer. She was injured, but he was not sure how. He only remembered the desperation of getting her out of there. And he had succeeded, somewhat, and in almost no time he found himself in the street. His clothes were singed, his hair was gray with smoke and he turned in the street and watched in horror as the newsies haven went up in blinding, biting smoke.

Peep glared at the ruins of the building and cursed under his breath. He'd find out who did this. To the Hall, to his newsie, and to everyone else that had been there that night.

[Darling]

Darling walked silently to Irving Hall. She hadn’t been near it since it had burned down, hell she hadn’t even touched the dress she’d worn that night. It was more a measure of peace of mind than fear. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. But bad memories stayed in the mind, regardless of weather reminders were visible or not.

She remembered to an extent what had happened. Her mind whirred back to before the fire had started while she crossed over what would have been the threshold of the old Hall. She had dressed up from her normal attire–wearing the dress she’d worn when she’d returned to Staten–but had left her hair alone. It had been a busy night, with people laughing and dancing, enjoying themselves. Peep had gotten a little something to drink, and so had she, and she’d had enough to get giddy. Darling had been enjoying herself, who hadn’t? Everything had seemed…perfect in a way.

The next thing she could remember was being grabbed and shoved into someone’s arms. She had stayed there for a moment, but then pushed herself away and started running out of the building, going with her very first instinct. She shouldn’t have run, she should’ve stayed and tried saving someone. Maybe there would’ve been one less fatality.

She had stopped now, and her eyes flicked up to where the balconies should’ve been. What had driven someone to do something like this? Had it been accidental? Or deliberate? A glance around the ruins brought her gaze to a familiar figure. Peep. She felt her feet start taking her forward even though her mind said to stay put.

Should she say something? Get his attention? Maybe it’d be better if she just stopped right here she was and paid attention to her own thoughts instead of trying to get Peep to talk to her. It wouldn’t be worth it, in her head. She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty just looking at him. He had saved Dancer, and she’d done nothing but run away. Her mind kept whirring, and she came to the idea that she should at least let him know she was there.

“Peep?” her voice was soft and cautious, unsure of weather it was a good thing to talk to him here or not.

[Peep]

He sighed heavily and ran a shaking hand through his blonde hair and shook his head, turning away from where the balconies had been to where some of the stage still stood. The once polished and shiny wood was cracked and scarred and gray. He hung his head and tried to think of Medda and her workers, but he could not. All he could think about was Dancer and the priest and the Irish woman and Drama and Bullseye (whom Brooklyn was not hiding his feelings about) and everyone else that had been killed or injured. Within the newsie community, with so many drifting and disappearing, it was hard to keep track of everyone. It would take weeks to figure out the full damage, take into account all who were there or lurking around.

Really, Peep was placing his bets on the thieves, particularly that Bloody Jack-whom had never kept her mudereous mind to herself. But it was too soon to point fingers and blame people. It could be anyone. Even one of his own. Everyone knew Jumper was insane. But it was up to Peep to protect and defend his newsies to his very last breath.

He turned, spotting something among the rubble. He crouched and pulled the chain from the rubble, looking at it. It was a pocket watch. He sighed and stood, brushing it off a bit. He slowly pocketed it, intending to show it to each leader in turn, to try and find the owner.

He heard a voice, timid and unsure, say his name. Turning slowly, the bits of wood and glass and everything else, crunching underneath his feet. He saw Darling. Without thinking about it, he walked over to her, his legs climbing over chairs and tables. He stopped in front of her and smiled half-heartedly. "Hi." He said after a long pause. "What are you doing here?" A flash of worry crossed his face, "Nothing's wrong with Dancer?" Peep asked quickly, touching her arm.

His nerves were frayed and if this went on any longer, you might start finding Peep in bars rather then at the Lodging House. He shook his head. That would never happen. That would be irresponsible. "Sorry... I shouldn't be so rude. It's just..." He trailed off helplessly, looking out over the once grand place. There were holes in the ceiling. Light, weak and desperate, filtered down and shone on the stage and then the aisle and then drifted over Peep and disappeared with the clouds movement.

[Darling]

Darling inhaled and folded her hands in front of her as she listened to the debris crunch under Peep’s feet while he turned to face her. Her stomach tightened, not only because she was nervous about weather she’d acted correctly or not, but because of the thoughts that were coming to her about who had been injured or even killed nearby. She wrung out her hands in front of her and directed her gaze at the ground, she only looked up when Peep stopped in front of her.

Her lips did not twitch up into even a half-smile. They more flickered into some odd half-grimace before falling back into a frown. She couldn’t find the power at that very moment to make clear-cut words come out of her mouth after he greeted her, so she mouthed back a ‘hey’. The first question made her clear her throat and try to make her voice work. The next query made a weary smile come to her lips as she shook her head. “Dancer was alright when I left,” she replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her eyebrows knit together in worry as she studied him briefly.

Rude? He wasn’t be rude, at least, not in her eyes. “No…it’s fine. Perfectly understandable,” she said softly, looking up at the holes in the ceiling. She closed her eyes for a moment, almost trying to wish Irving Hall back to how it looked before. It was a pointless wish, but still…

Darling hesitated a long moment, trying to think of something to say. "You're really br–I mean…it was nice of you to get Dancer out in the first place. It might've been worse if you hadn't." she floundered. That was not what she had meant to say, she'd meant to say something more meaningful or worth hearing, something about Irving Hall and her opinion on who'd burned it down. But no, she'd let her mouth work on its own. She chewed on her lip and scuffed her foot against the debris.

((Muse is kinda fail, sorry.))

[Peep]

Peep nodded when he saw he failure to smile. Yeah, it was so hard to get those muscles to work at that moment. He had not smiled since it happened, but seeing her, seeing Darling had made everything so much better, and he had been able to smile. He smiled slightly again when she mouthed hey to him. He wanted to reach out and play with her dark hair. He wanted to reach out and hug her into his chest and never, ever let go. But he didn't. Instead, he lowered his head. He glanced up. "She is? That's good..." He could breath again. Gently, he reached up to take her hand in his, letting both rest on his shoulder. He smiled at her, taking a step closer.

"I'm glad you're so understanding..." He breathed. He wanted to cry and scream and storm. But he didn't. He couldn't. He was a leader, someone everyone expected to come up with an answer. The only answer he had was that he would never let his newsies get hurt again. He smiled sadly at her soft praise. "I had to. Dancer's a Staten Islander. I would have done the same for any of you... Leader or not." His smiled grew wistful, wondering what she had been about to say.

Instead of asking, he took yet another step closer and leaned down, kissing her on her forehead. It was tender and sweet. He was shy when he stepped away, not able to look her in the eyes. He brought his hand down to hold her's, tracing patterns with his thumb. "Darling... If something had happened to you..." He could not continue. It was to painful. He was shocked by the intensity of these emotions. Since when had he grown to care so much about her? Whenever it was, Peep was glad for it. He was not so hollow anymore. She made him feel safe and secure. Finally, maybe everything was sliding into place.

[Darling]

Darling tried to keep the heat from rising in her cheeks when Peep took her hand in his. It was gentle, almost calming for her in a way. His smile was contagious, making its way onto her lips, though diminished a bit. A part of her longed to wrap her other arm around him and hold on, maybe even be the girl that he would propose to instead of the fake fiancee. Another part of her wondered if he even felt a shred of the same way about her.

Her smile melted into a half-solemn one, listening with a nod to his reply. A pang of guilt hit her again for not having the guts to try and save anyone as well. She was about to say that was why he was leader, because he cared so much and would do things like that for his newsies, but she found herself speechless when he kissed her forehead. She knew her cheeks must've been beet red, or at the very least a light shade of pink. When he stepped away her eyes darted to her feet, wanting him to step closer again.

His next statement caught her off-guard. She tried flipping it around to see it from her point of view. What if something had happened to Peep? Her throat closed a little in fear. She didn't like thinking about it, it made her nervous, almost off-balance. If she had been asked what it would be like if Peep left or was hurt a few days before she'd left, her answer would be that she'd be loosing a friend. If you asked her at that moment she would've said she couldn't even imagine Staten Island or even New York without him.

Darling wasn't sure what had brought on this change in opinion and feelings. Maybe it was the trip to Iowa that'd changed her, maybe she'd matured or something. But she was perfectly fine with the change, happy for it.

She slowly reached out her hand and placed it on his cheek. "Well, nothin' happened to me, don't trouble yourself thinkin' about what might've." she said softly, carefully moving her hand to his neck and kissing the cheek where her hand had been.

[Peep]

Peep's blue eyes, usually so distant and calculating and studious, softened and warmed. "I have to worry. Otherwise, I don't have much of a job left." He ducked his head and leaning it onto her hand. Then her hand slipped away and settled on his neck, where the little hairs on the nape of his neck stood up at attention, his body reacting to her presence subconsciously. She kissed him and Peep was gripped with an unholy desire for the girl in front of him. The subconscious was a curious thing, he reflected, for he had read (like most Private school boys are apt to do under cover of darkness) Freud and the other men who delved into people's minds.

Whether or not the dreams Peep had of his sisters running around with wings really meant he wanted them to disappear forever, his late night and illegal studies of the German psychoanalyst had led him to believe beyond all doubt of the subconsciousness power over conscious actions. Even if Peep did not want to show weakness, or be hurt, or hurt someone else, this did not detract from the fact that his hands now settled on her waist and drew her close. In a voice hardly above a whisper, Peep said, "I have something for you."

His hand left her hip and dug into his pocket, to reveal a smooth velvet black box which he now held out to her shyly. He was reminded of the time he had given flowers to his governess when he was ten years old. He was overcome by shyness in the presence of this beautiful and powerful being before him. "Do... Do you want me to get down on one knee?" He asked, with a hint of desperation. If that would make her accept quicker, then so be it, even if the grime of the former Irving Hall would send his poor widow laundress from around the corner into Italian hysterics... He would risk a frying pan to the head for this.

Somehow, through the daze and suddeness of this, he realized that it no longer felt fake, but completely and utterly real. He was remembering a scene like this, exactly two years ago, when he proposed to the fetching and willful Miss Trough, who at fifteen (like him) was silly and foolish but promised sweet dreams for him as soon as his ring was on her finger. But this proposal was not born out of boyish lust and giggling promises with awkwardness from both. It was not born from fear of risking the same glorious thing from a professional.

No, somehow, this proposal (which now had Nicholas Schyuler, usually so daring and confident, sweating and knitting his brow in worry) was born out of a deep seated emotion that was buried in his chest and only now revealing itself. Had her absence from Staten Island really affected him that much? Not only the utter boredom, but the disappointment every time someone else and not she walked through the door...

"Adrinna Marina Kensington, will you marry me?" Peep asked suddenly and quickly, as he sunk to his knee in front of her. The former prep school boy (who really had walked into the lobby of Frau Berger's all girls school and quoted Shakespeare to a nervous and frightened and ostracized fifteen year old Mary Wheeler in front of all the jealous girls who had rejected the small newcomer and subsequently made her a legend) was finding that proposing to one Darling of Staten Island, was a lot harder then that had ever been.

[Darling]

Were his hands really around her waist? She had to duck her head to hide the schoolgirl-like shy smile that had crept onto her lips upon being pulled closer. The expression turned curious, what could he have for her here?

Her gaze darted down and followed his hand to his pocket, then they trained on the little velvet box he pulled out. She could feel them widen and her mouth drop with a whispered, "Oh!"

She kept her eyes trained on the box for a moment and then swept up to Peep's face. His next question made her repeat her whisper again, confirming her suspicions. The one thing her grandmother had spent months trying to get her and yet Darling hadn't been fully behind. The elderly woman probably would've either passed out or begun to fan herself while murmuring God's praises in German.

Darling remembered every man her grandmother had set her up with. Every name, every face. None of them seemed to be what she wanted or expected. None of them liked her. She remembered the first, which had been set up at the age of fourteen, Lucas James, who was about as happy with the set-up as she was, though he blatantly expressed it. She remembered the latest, George Beucanon who deserted her at a party to talk up a prettier local girl. Some might've liked her, but she wouldn't have taken notice. Was it because they weren't him?

Yes. Yes it was, now that she thought about it. But at the time it was happening, never. She would've thought they just weren't right for her.

That is when the proposal came, just the question given from bended knee. She couldn't help the tiny gasp that escaped her. Her eyes lit and her throat almost closed with emotion. 'Just say yes!' she nagged herself, a part of her mind squealing with joy. She grinned at Peep and nodded.

"Yes," she whispered happily.

[Peep]

"Yes,"

That was it. That was when he knew he was done for good. When he knew he would always be under this woman's spell. Rising from his kneel, Peep gently took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. "Lucky." He breathed, kissing her hand and grinning up at her. Then he could resist it no longer. He picked her up and spun her around once, unable to keep the joy inside him.

"Can you believe it?" He asked, as he set her down. "Who would of ever thought..." He was confused, yes, but estatic by the turn of events. He smiled down at her, completely at peace. He was a man who had come home. He placed his hands along her jaw and with a breathtaking gentility brought his lips to hers to kiss her longingly. She was his. He was her's. Forever. He never could have imagined how beautiful it would all be. Marriage... He always thought is was for old people like his parents, but now... It was a wonderous thing, a way to connect your soul to someone else's for all eternity.

He had been a little shocked when Doll announced she was getting married, she was so young, but he could understand it completely now. The dizzying romance of it. It was adventure, it was perfection, something he never would have achieved in Salem. No, he had to come to New York, to lie and cheat and lie again to achieve something so... Good. Peep leaned away from Darling, his face flushed and his eyes warm and stunning in their happyness.

"Darling... I am entirely happy." He murmured, letting his fingers wind in her hair as he had done so long ago in the Staten Island Lodging House. He smiled serenely and glanced up at her. "I will give you anything," He told her. "I will give you the stars and moon and the entire sky. I will raize and destroy for you, I will conquer and protect." He let his face bury itself into the sweet smelling tresses of her dark hair.

"I promise. Anything." He repeated firmly.