Back to Brooklyn

[Fighter Mallory]

*FIGHT'S RETURN TO BROOKLYN FROM PHILI ~ Tag Hawkeye*

Fighter stepped off the train and glanced around, happy to be back in Brooklyn. She'd needed to get away after everything that had happened with Aidan, but it was nice to be back. Part of her was still a little apprehensive wondering if he would find her, but she refused to give into that. Her uncle had taught her better then to give into her fears. She could take care of herself and she couldn't let him keep her from her home forever. The past few months she'd been in Philadelphia had taught her a few things. It was too easy to run away and try to forget what she'd left behind, she needed to face it head on or she'd be running for the rest of her life.

She slowly walked down the streets of Brooklyn, her face stony as her eyes darted around her. She would need to be careful for awhile and she would need to find a place to stay. She'd sold papers in Phili and she figured she'd do the same now that she was back in New York. She knew where the Brooklyn lodging house was from growing up and walking past it nearly everyday with her uncle. Fighter made her way there slowly, making sure to avoid the docks where Scar had worked before she left. She carried a small satchel with her containing all of her possessions and she held it close.

Fighter couldn't help but get lost in some of the better memories she had of Brooklyn as she walked past some of her favorite spots. The park where her uncle had first started to teach her how to fight. The restaurant they would eat at every Wednesday. The shop where she worked for a short period of time before he passed away.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she walked head first into someone. It caused her to stumble for a moment but she quickly righted herself, forcing her distracting thoughts away. Fighter was tense, ready to run in case it was anyone who knew Scar and could tell him she was back in New York. She didn't recognize him though but that didn't cause the tenseness to leave her body. He was holding some papers and was obviously a newsie. She knew it was partly her fault for running into him, but he obviously hadn't been paying attention either so she was hardly going to apologize for it.

He seemed to be about her age or maybe a year older. He was an attractive sort, but she was hardly interested in anything like that. She had enough problems without letting the first cute boy that crossed her path to catch her attention. She crossed her arms and smirked at him, "Don't you pay attention to where you walk?" Yes, she realized that she had technically walked into him because she had been distracted with her reminiscing but she didn't care.

[Hawkeye Dekker]

Hawkeye was new to Brooklyn, just having transferred here from Manhattan, but he was learning its ways quickly enough. The newsies here were different from the others he’d met, including the few he’d known in Chicago, and he found that he fit in with them far better than he had anywhere else so far. They didn’t get all touchy feely with each other and they didn’t go prying into people’s stories, something hawk greatly appreciated. Jack and his boys had been inviting and kind to him, of course, but they had all just rubbed him the wrong way. Brooklyn was where he belonged.

The selling spot he’d taken upon arrival – here they were taken, not given – was just down the street from the park and across the street from some nice looking shops. Some of them were boutiques that sold frilly odds ‘n’ ends and, seeing as there were so few of these shops in Brooklyn, they tended to attract a large number of females; the perfect selling crowd for Hawkeye. He knew the effect he could have on women and he used that knowledge to his advantage. It was an ideal location for him, one he’d already had to fight for, and he had no intention of giving it up. He’d moved up to 700 papes in a week working here and he knew he could do more once the headlines got better.

There were still about twenty of his original ‘hundred left under his arm when his stomach began to rumble, informing him that it was time for some lunch. He was busy working out in his head if he would be able to sell all twenty before he reached Il Capriccio, so he didn’t really pay any attention to the sound of footsteps behind him. If his mind hadn’t been occupied, Hawk would have noticed that they weren’t the normal New Yorker footsteps, hurried and sure, but those of someone taking in the view. By the time he realized how close they were and had the sense to glance over his shoulder, it was already too late.

He turned around almost immediately after the girl slammed into his back, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. The tension in her body was apparent, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was far from frightened; more annoyed, than anything. She was pretty, he’d give her that, but not really his type. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her around before and her satchel pegged her as a new arrival, but he got the feeling she knew her way around.

Hawkeye waited for the apology that usually followed when someone rammed into you, but instead this girl smirked and crossed her arms. He raised an eyebrow at her question, but kept the rest of his face passive. Glancing around quickly, he saw a few of his regular customers leave their homes over the shops and head down the street, not stopping to buy a pape from him like they usually did. He scowled at their backs and turned back to the girl, his face passive once again. He didn’t anger easily, he mostly just ignored people, but this one had cost him some business. “I wasn’t the one walkin’, kid,” he snapped, “how ‘bout you watch who you run into.”

[Fighter Mallory]

"I hardly ran into you," Fighter said as she quirked an eyebrow at him, a smirk still planted firmly on her lips. "Besides, aren't you Brooklyn kids supposed to be aware of everything going on around you at all time?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm and she knew she was probably pressing some of his buttons, but she found the whole situation more amusing then anything else. She could tell he was more annoyed by the fact that some of his customers had walked off without buying a paper then he was by being walked in to. He didn't sound like he was from the area, but she wasn't going to assume that just because his accent was off. She didn't sound like she was from Brooklyn but she'd spent most of her youth living there with her uncle.

While she was in Philadelphia, she'd done a bit of snooping around. She'd checked out her old house, a little surprised she still remembered where it was, but nothing had come of it. It was as though Connor Mallory had never existed. She had found her mothers grave site though and had spent a lot of her free time there not caring how morbid the other newsies had thought that was. She knew she wasn't going to stay in Philadelphia long so she wanted to spend as much time as she could there.

She studied him silently for another moment before averting her gaze to glance at the people walking by them. Her own stomach was silently reminding her that the last time she'd eaten was the day before and she knew she'd need to get something to eat before heading over to the lodging house and seeing if they had a free bunk. She wasn't looking forward to finding out the answer in case it was negative because she wasn't fond of sleeping in alleys and she knew that's what she'd be doing if they didn't have room for her. She pulled out a cigarette and struck a match against the side of a building so she could light it. "Il Capriccio still open?" She asked when she finally turned her gaze back to him. It had only been a few months so she figured it would be, but there was no use walking there if it was just going to be closed.

Fighter wasn't sure if he was going to answer her since she'd obviously cost him some money, but she was persistent and would bother him long enough to get an answer. Normally, she would've walked away from him by now but he was going to be a fellow lodger if they had the room to spare so she didn't want to burn any bridges just yet. Once she got settled in she wouldn't care about whether or not they got along, but for now she'd play nice. She was capable of doing at least that for the time being. Besides he didn't seem like the sort that would annoy her so she'd be as polite as she possibly could be until he pissed her off. She took another drag of her cigarette before offering her free hand, "I'm Fighter by the way."

[Hawkeye Dekker]

Looking down at her, annoyed, he wondered why the hell she didn’t just leave it and get on about her life like any normal person would. Well, any normal girl her age (he pegged her to be just a few years younger than himself). That was one thing about Brooklyn that he wasn’t so fond of: everyone seemed to have an attitude problem and a chip on their shoulder. Lucky for her, Hawk didn’t rise to bate as easily as most boys his age, and lucky for him he noticed the fluidity with which she moved and the faint scars along her knuckles.

He had never been formally trained in fighting, simply forced to learn how to defend himself by the factors of his childhood, but he had proven he could hold his own against many an opponent. This girl, however, could probably give him a hell of a time if she decided to. Could probably kick his ass and hand it to him were it not for the thirty-odd lbs and the couple inches he had on her, but even then it would be close.

Instead of responding to her little quip, he fixed her with a calculating stare. He knew he had had more education than most street kids, having been raised by nuns, but he’d assumed that most people could identify a figure of speech when they heard it. Rolling his eyes, he looked back toward the shops as he spoke, “It aint that I wasn’t aware of you, sweetheart, I heard ya comin.” Hawk looked back at her, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her cocky attitude, “I jus assumed most people actually watched where they’re goin’ in Brooks.” He gave a humorless chuckle and shook his head, “My mistake.”

He could feel her watching him and he wondered again what the hell this girl wanted. Both her bag and the general direction in which she was headed, away from the train station, suggested she was looking for lodging, but this still didn’t explain why she would waste time chatting with him. The Brooklyn newsies’ LH wasn’t exactly high class lodging material. Glancing over at her as she lit a cig, his body began to crave one as well. He gave her hand a look as she proffered it, pausing before accepting it, but decided it didn’t hurt to be nice to a girl named “Fighter.” As he shook her hand, he gave her a brief nod and a simple, “Hawkeye.”

Digging through his pockets briefly, he came out with a single cigarette and a match which he quickly put into use and took a drag. “Yeah, it’s still open,” he said, quirking a brow, in answer to her earlier question. “You headed that way?” It couldn’t hurt to find out more about this one, annoyed as he was with her, she seemed like the Brooklyn sort.

[Fighter Mallory]

She quirked an eyebrow at his sarcasm and gave him a smirk as she took another drag of her cigarette. Her head tilted to the side slightly as she continued to study him. "Suppose they would if they gave a damn about running into the wrong person." Her smirk widened into a full fledged grin and she shrugged her shoulder absently. "I don't happen to care one way or the other." She was fully aware she'd pretty much just admitted it had been her fault that she'd run into him, but she hadn't really cared about that anyway.

She didn't make a comment about him calling her sweetheart because it would inevitably lead to a fight and she was too tired to start a brawl over that. Even if he had said it to grate on her nerves. She brushed it away and nodded when he gave her his name. Fighter tucked her free hand into her pocket and continued to glance around every few moments, settling her eyes on Hawk in between. They were close enough to where Scar had lived that she wanted to make sure to keep an eye on everyone on the street.

"Gotta eat," She said simply in response to his question before brushing her hair back off of her face. She really should have braided it before getting off of the train but she'd been to excited to be back in Brooklyn to bother. When she was younger she had thought that the only place she'd really consider home would be Philadelphia since it was where she'd been born and where her mother was buried. Slowly though over the years she'd come to love the city her uncle had lived in and now considered it her only home. Of course, she hadn't realized how much she'd miss it when she'd left, but now that she was back she didn't foresee herself wanting to leave anytime soon.

"You live at the lodging house?" She asked as she directed her attention and thoughts back to Hawkeye. He looked like a street kid with his clothes being dirtier then they normally would be if he had a home and mother. Or at least she assumed that they would be cleaner if that were the case. When she'd lived with her uncle she'd been the one who would wash the clothes which was why hers were usually in decent condition. She knew though you couldn't always judge a book by it's cover as the saying went which is why she'd asked the question in the first place.