fic: Something Newsworthy

[bonnefois]

Title: Something Newsworthy
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18406
Summary: AU. When her cat goes missing, Sophie Pauling ends up in the projects after a caller answers her missing posters. Her paths cross with a boy from the bad side of town, who escorts her back and keeps coming back into her life.
Author's note: inspired by a dream I had. Pre-Mann co. canon = names. Set about 1971.

Dover Station as well as the Luncheonette Cafeteria.

Dover street had such a horrible reputation that the city renamed it to East Berkley ST. The route would close down several years later.

Dunster House

Anderson Memorial Bridge

Orange Line and Red Line

Wadsworth House ghost (warning: flashing horror gif at the top)

Schlesinger's Library

Hyperkinetic Impulse disorder, better known as ADHD, was commonly misdiagnosed during earlier years as simply "bad behavior." However, ritalin usage goes back to the 1950s. As a person with ADHD, I have to say Scout is a classic case. I recognize a lot of my own symptoms in his behavior and tics. There's a bit of artistic license here, but I couldn't help myself.



Sophie Pauling been pushing through the sleet for for almost a half hour. Even with her hands stuck deep in her pockets, they still tingled with numbness. She moved her fingers in a faint attempt for some semblance of warmth. Through with her thick coat, she felt the full brunt of the wind cutting against her skin. The street was empty, the lack of sound almost eerie. The streetlight above her flickered. Half of it was broken in. Jagged pieces of glass still hung on edges.

She’d wait another few minutes. This was the first call she’d heard since she put up the signs last week, and the last glimmer of hope she'd had of ever finding him. Missing: One gray Persian cat;. Goes by the name of Smokey. Please contact Sophia Pauling at…

She knew Southie only in vague statements and papers. The highest rate of white poverty, a place full of gangs and organized crime. Certainly a place you never want to be in daylight, let alone after dark. She pushed it out of her mind. Normally, she wouldn’t be deep in the projects of South Boston by choice. It certainly wasn't where she'd pick to have a meeting, but if it meant she'd find Smokey again, then she'd take that risk.

A Persian cat who'd been kept inside most of his life would have little protection against the intense cold. She felt her chest tighten, like it was in a vice at the thought of him outside in this sleet. She'd had him since she was a child. The thought of him alone in cold pushed her on further, even as she felt her fingers tingle with numbness.

She'd give him a few more minutes. It was the least she could do.

As the seconds went by, a man stepped into the pool of the damaged streetlight. He wore a large overcoat with many patches that had been sewn in through the years. The collar was so high that she couldn't see his mouth. Only his bushy eyebrows and intense gaze. There was nothing in his hands, no sign of her cat.

She took a step back. This couldn't be the man.

"Missing something?" he said, in an all too familiar voice.

She saw just the hint of a smile, but it was so cold. She stepped back immediately, out of his reach. The street was empty. How could it be this empty at only eight at night? She took a step back as she saw a glint at his hip. She made a run for it, but he was twice her size, and much faster.

He reached out, and she ran towards the only place she could, as he blocked the way to the street--only to find a dead end alley.

Stupid, stupid, she'd let her worries get get her. She'd planned on slipping Smokey into her purse on the way home, and didn't want him resting on cold steel of her gun.

Sophie gripped the trash can lid barely missed the knife slicing down. He blocked the exit, but if she rushed with the lid, she might be able to push him back, if only a little. The biggest problem with this plan was that he was twice her size, and a great deal heavier. He'd be just as likely to slam her against the wall, and then slice her to pieces.

Behind her was just bricks. The alley was narrow enough that she couldn't push by. He slowly blocked out the light as he came closer.

The silence was cut by far off laughter, footsteps, and something metallic hitting the wall. She couldn't quite place it. A kicked can, perhaps?

"Catch me later, chumps!" More laughter. The man tightened his grip on the knife with a sort of grim determination.

Maybe with this distraction, she could rush him, or call out for help. Before she could try her plans of escape, a man appeared at the end of the alley.

He had a baseball bat over his shoulder, a ripped jacket that seemed far too cold for this weather, and a baseball cap pulled down low enough that all she could see was a smirk, his strong jawline, and angular chin.

"Hey, patches, your time is friggin' up!"

Before the man could strike, before she could make her last bid to escape, he slammed the baseball bat into the man's stomach with such speed that he seemed nothing more than a ragged blur. Hard enough to make him crumple down, too surprised to make more than a pained release of breath. Before he could take another swing, the man reached out, but not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough.

Each hit was done with such grace and force, that she couldn't take her eyes off the scene. Where she should've been horrified, all she felt was a hypnotic draw. She couldn't stop watching.

"Too slow!" He kicked the man so hard that he slammed into the brick wall. Blood dripped down the man's neck, staining the collar of his large coat.

"Now that's what I call a knockout! A real one-two punch! Okay, a kick, but who's countin'?"

Just around the corner came many more men, all even larger than him.

He turned to her, and balanced the baseball bat over his shoulders.

"Why, he--loo there---Wait, Sophie? What're you doin' in a place like this?"

"Fuckin' hell, Liam, keep it in your pants, we got a job to finish--" came a voice in the distance. More were coming. She ducked behind the trash lid shield. The brick wall was cold against her back. She couldn't step back anymore.

Liam? At this angle, she could see his face. Gray eyes, an angular face, but what was most noticeable was his smile. He was a head taller than her, and even his thick coat, full of fraying patches of baseballs wasn't enough to hide his wiry frame. He wasn't smirking now. She couldn't recall, yet somehow he seemed familiar. Like a word she couldn't quite remember, but was on the tip of her tongue.

"Hey, fellas! Ain't my fault you're too slow. You could say I beat you to the punch, huh?" He snickered loudly at his own joke. "I kill myself sometimes, I really do."

"It'll be more than your bad puns which get you killed. I told you, don't leave the rest of us behind. You're lucky it was just a single target."

"Oh, Michael, you're just jealous I got first blood. And when my puns are better than your lame ones," Liam said.

A gang? Oh, the last thing she needed was to be outnumbered. She looked from one to the other--the bleeding man against the wall, the new arrivals, and tried to better gauge the situation. Even through her mittens, she could feel the cold of the lid seeping into her skin.

"Oh yeah, introductions can wait. Hey, fellas, you can get this? I gotta get her home. Wouldn't want her caught up in the bad side of town, you know?"

"For once could think with your brains instead of your dick, Liam?" said one of the boys.

"I'm just thinkin' of her safety, really!" Liam said. He grinned wide and chuckled as he touched to edge of her coat.`

"Hey, Sophie, c'mon. We gotta blow this joint. This guy is bad news. He's goin' to wake up eventually, and you don't wanna be there when he does."

With one last glance over the men, all in thick coats, many carrying baseball bats of their own--and she saw now, guns, and iron knuckles--she let go of the trash can lid and let the alley go behind her.

Anyone could be lurking on a night like this. They very well could be a gang, but She took a risk, and followed him down the street. It still turned in her mind that she'd seen him somewhere, but the memory eluded her.

"Hit him extra hard for me," Liam called back.

The sleeting had gotten worse. Only past there did she realize how weary she was. Days with little sleep, and restless thoughts had taken their toll on her. She stopped in the flood of a streetlight, and bent over coughing. Every breath came in cold to her aching lungs. When she rose, she teetered, just on the edge of dizzy. He reached out to steady her.

"We really gotta get out of here. You're lucky I'm the one who came around. We've been after this guy for ages."

She flinched as his ice cold fingers brushed her skin.

"Wait, are my hands too cold? Sorry, I have to keep my hands free, so not mittens for me. Ma is always sayin' I'm goin' to get friggin' frostbite. Man, what are you doin' around here? Especially on a night like this? Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but--" He trailed off.

"I was looking for my cat. I got a call saying they'd found him, and I had to come pick him up," she said.

Liam's face twisted in a grimace. "You just go around answerin' the phone for whatever creep comes along?" Liam said.

"I'm not a fool. I know I should've checked into it more, or brought someone--I'm just worried about him. He isn't an outdoors cat, and he doesn't have a thick fur coat. I've had him since I was a child. I thought it seemed fishy but..." she shrugged. "I though about packing my gun, I just...didn't want his paws cold when I brought him home."

"You pack? That's great. Gotta love a girl who can shoot," Liam said.

"It's good stress relief," she said.

"Oh yeah, ma doesn't want me shootin' cans, though. It wastes bullets, and scares the neighbors," Liam said.

She nodded, still somewhat numb through it all. She wrapped her arms closer about her. "I don't think I'll ever find him now." Her voice broke off. It'd been hours, and the day was only growing colder. She cleared her throat. "I just really hoped they'd found him," she said.

"Oh," Liam said. "Sorry 'bout that. I ain't ever had a pet, but that must be rough, I guess." He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Hey, you hungry? It's pretty cold, you should warm up before you head home. Look, I know a place near here. Should still be open. It's right on the way. Great stuff; I pass by it every day. Twice a day, in fact."

She hadn't eaten since that morning. She knew very well he was angling for a date. She was hardly stupid, she'd put together the pieces. The man back there had likely been pushed over the docks, his battered remains beaten until he was unrecognizable. Given how he'd pulled that knife, she couldn't be too sad about his loss. She couldn't tell if the man was part of some gang or mafia, but at the moment, he was on her side, and that was all that mattered.

"It's right up here, right on the way. They've got real good stuff--it'll warm you right up," Liam said.

"All right," she said.

They walked underneath a raised, seaform green station. She craned her neck to see every detail. She'd always ridden the Red Line of the railroad, which served Cambridge. The Orange line might as well have been a myth to her. But, the Dover station was a bit of beauty, like a carved relic hidden away among broken down brickwork, and broken down lives.

The station was deserted, but in the far distance, she could hear a train. Below the station was a restaurant with Lunchonette Cafeteria Delicious was across the top in front letters. The wall was covered in small squares of frosted glass. She could see lights, but nothing of detail.

The dining area was almost empty at this hour. A bulb had blown in the top, leaving the room with uneven lighting. He chose a table near the window, though the view was distorted through the sleet and frosted glass. As she sat, she noticed the little cracks. Rust on the edges of the metal chairs, rips in the cushion of the seats.

It seemed that nothing missed the touch of decay in Southie.

A waitress looked up from the counter at the front. Her hair was red, though she suspected it was dyed, and curled tightly about her ears. The smock was green, the same seafoam color as the station above, and the small hat, that was apparently part of the uniform, seemed too small, as if it'd been made for someone else.

"Liam! You look about dead. What are you doin' outside on a night like this? I was just about to close up a little early. You're the first customer in the past hour."

"Yeah, it sure is friggin' cold out there. Friggin' nor'easters, eh? Hey, Mary, could you do me a solid and gimme the usual. And for the lady-" he stretched out the word, like he didn't want to stop. "Hey, whatcha want?"

"She ain't memorized the bargain menu like you have. Give her a second to thaw out at least," Mary said.

"Yeah, bring her a menu, and like, you got some hot chocolate or tea? She'll need somethin' real warm. She was out there a while lookin' for her cat," Liam said.

"Oh, that's a shame. I hope you find him. I'll bring one of both," Mary said.

"Actually, just some soup would be fine," she said.

"Yeah, some for me, too," Liam added.

"You got a preference, or you just want to be surprised?" Mary said dryly.

"Surprises are always great. Well, most of the time. Not in dark alleys," Liam said.

"Right, the cheapest on the menu," Mary said.

Her head involuntarily drooped towards the table. Now she was with another stranger, or something like a stranger, for all she knew, he could be a half-remembered friend, a Good Samaritan, blood-stained baseball bat and all.

"All the buses have gone back. But, you're in luck, I'll walk you home! Nobody's goin' to even think about goin' near you, and if they do, I'll smash their heads in."

"It's not that far," she said.

"I can at least walk you part way. Really, this weather is fuckin' impossible. 'course, this is warm compared to the usual nor'easters..."

"Boston winters are something else. I really underestimated them," Sophie said.

"Guess you ain't from around here? You don't exactly sound like us Massholes," Liam said.

"New Mexico, actually. I was raised in the badlands. I transferred here for college."

Liam let out a low whistle. "New Mexico, eh? Must be one hell of a change."

"Well, there's certainly a lot less sand. I don't really miss it. Sand in my shoes was so grating," she said.

He broke into a deep, belly laugh. Far more than her dry quip warranted.

Two bowls of steaming chicken noodle soup were laid before them. This close, she could see that Mary seemed even older than she'd assumed at first glance. A grandmother, not simply a mother. She was also shorter than Sophie had realized, almost Sophie's exact height. Perhaps there was something raised.

"That the one?" Mary said.

"Yeah! She's the one," Liam said brightly. He broke into a grin.

"Tone it down, or you'll scare her away," she said. She lifted his cap and ruffled his hair, like he was nothing more than an errant schoolboy to her.

So not only did he know her, he knew her well enough to mention her to waitresses. He definitely wasn't someone at college. Perhaps at one of the larger library meetings? There were so many people that attended there, even from other colleges and parts of the country, that she rarely could keep track. She could remember facts and numbers, even titles and subjects on lectures, but names―well, that was another thing. Obviously her grip on names was slipping.

"You goin' to have some dessert?" Mary called from across the counter.

"You want some?" Liam said hopefully.

"I'll pass," Sophie said.

She dug into her pocket, fished out her wallet, and pulled out a few dollars, with enough for tip.

"You don't gotta--"

"You saved my life. Paying for some soup is the least I can do," Sophie said.

"Well, I could make some suggestions," Liam began.

There was a clang so loud from the kitchen that they both craned their necks. Mary was shaking her head vigorously and smacking a wooden spoon into a pan.

Liam cleared his throat. "Like eatin' soup. There's a suggestion."

As she was just about to close her wallet, Liam peered over at the pictures, all of Smokey.

"That him?" Liam stared long and hard at the cat, like was memorizing for a test.

"This? Yes, that's him," Sophie said.

"He's pretty cute. Hope you find him."

"Me too," she said softly.

You'll grow old alone surrounded by your cats, her last boyfriend had once told her. He was an ex for a reason. Liam probably killed people, but at least he didn't mock her for having cat pictures in her wallet.

The soup arrived much sooner than expected. Mary smiled. Her ruby lipstick was somewhat smudged at the corner of her lips. "Nice and hot. I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you," Sophie murmured. She blew on the spoon, the thick broth smelled wonderful. With her mind full of worries, she hadn't realized just how hungry she'd been.

She took a careful sip, Only to realize he was staring. She licked her lips, which only made his face flush red again. Even his ears got red when he blushed.

"What? Did I spill some? Do I have something on my mouth?"

"What? No, I just---" He blushed suddenly and pulled his cap down to try and hide the evidence. "I agree with the soup."

"Well, it agrees with me," she said.

She finished the last of her soup in silence. Even though Liam had managed to stop talking, he couldn't sit still. He jiggled his leg enough to jostle the table.

"You'll overturn the food at this rate," she said.

"What? Sorry--I never could sit still." He pushed his chair out. "Gimme a sec, I gotta go ask Mary somethin'."

She heard them chatting pleasantries near the counter she was washing down. It was an attempt of an undertone which Liam didn't quite manage.

-So, how's your ma?

-Oh, she's good. She just sent us out to check out somethin'. A real creeper was runnin' around, and we finally caught him.

-Good to know that man's off the streets now. I'm real glad you're keepin' an eye out for us.

To them, Liam was an unsung hero. She stirred her spoon through her soup. Finally some warmth had seeped inside of her, though it hadn't thawed the empty feeling.

These things happen. You couldn't expect him to live forever, she tried to tell herself. It didn't bring any comfort.

*

The sleet had only worsened as they walked out of the diner. The sign turned to closed behind them.

"Night, Mary," Liam said.

"Remember what I told you, Liam," she said.

"Gotcha," he said. He gave her a thumbs up, and followed after Sophie into the driving sleet.

"I should've brought my friggin' umbrella," Liam muttered.

"I doubt it'd even help in this wind. It'd just bend the frame," she said.

"Probably. That's nor'easters for you," Liam said.

As they crossed over from the boundaries of Southie, Liam paused, as if he was passing through a palatable barrier. Boston was a strange mess of interlocking roads and unfamiliar people, and Southie was even more different. Cracked streets, and gangs that roved the night, protecting people from other predators.

"It's like walkin' into a whole 'nother world. A rich one, full of stuff I can't even imagine havin'," Liam said. He shook his head. "Cambridge is like a whole other space place sometimes."

She'd only seen a fraction of Southie, but she had to agree.

"It isn't that far away," she said.

"Yeah, Cambridge is only fifteen minutes or so, but it's dark, and horrible out. I'd be some kind of real jerk if I let you go home alone."

"I wouldn't mind company at least half the way there," she said.

He broke into the biggest smile. "I'll make sure you aren't even a little bit lonely."

She'd relaxed somewhat. Despite everything she'd seen, he didn't raise alarm bells in her. I must know him from somewhere, but where?

The question kept nagging at her, but she couldn't quite answer it yet.

Every so often, he'd urge her onto an awning, away from the rain. The steps were small, and they'd have to huddle close. At this rate, the trip would take twice as long.

"Didn't want you to catch a cold," he said.

She had to glance up to see the expression on his face, just a hint of softness underneath it all.

He seems almost gentle at times. What a contrast to earlier.

"Hey, your hands seem cold. I'll warm them right up," Liam said.

"You're more likely to freeze them off," she said.

"You got me there," Liam said. He broke into a big smile.

When they came into Cambridge, Liam grew antsy. He kept looking behind him in a way he hadn't even near the Dover street station.

"Do you have a nemesis around here, or something?" Sophie said.

Liam tilted his head. "A what?"

"An enemy," she clarified.

"I'm a Southie guy. Everybody's my enemy. Not you, though," he said.

When she came to her apartment building, she paused. A patrol car passed through, illuminating them both in headlights for a moment before it drove on. Liam leaned back against the wall. She noticed that he was struggling for breath. It couldn't be the walk. He watched the police car disappear onto another road. Only when it was completely gone did his shoulders relax.

"Ah--Thank you for everything," she said.

"Course, anytime! Just your neighborhood hero, doin' his job! Goodnight, Sophie," Liam said. He raised his hand in a wave, almost regretfully, and started the walk back into the cold.

*

It'd been sleeting for days. She'd gone through her midterms in a gray haze. Every time she passed the untouched food bowl, it made her feel a little worse. She couldn't bring herself to set it aside. Her mind kept saying but then he'll wake you up because he's hungry. Sophie couldn't help but keep using present tense for him, even as she knew Smokey would by now, be nothing more than a memory.

No more calls had come, save that one. She'd canceled out of the speaking turn at her meetings, citing an illness. She'd spent the day in the library in hopes to keep her mind on her books, but she'd barely been able to focus on the words on the page.

At this rate, she'd add failing to her list of disasters that week. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Some archivist she was. She might speak up about recording the history, and supporting gender equality, but she couldn't even keep her composure at the loss of a cat, let alone a person.

She closed her book and headed home. It was useless to keep trying when her mind wasn't in it. A chill had started coming over her in the past two days. Perhaps a long bath would help soothe her nerves, and clear the persistent pressure building up in her head. Not just a stress migraine, but a foreboding of illness to come.

*

It'd grown late when the knock came. Time was misleading this late in the year, it'd turn twilight before she knew it. She gazed through the peephole, only to see a familiar face through the small view into the hall outside. She opened it a crack, the chain locks still attached.

"Liam? What are you--"

He was soaked and shuddering. She heard a pitiful little mew coming from his coat. A shape struggled up, until she saw a familiar little furry face push up under the neck of Liam's coat.

"Lemme in, will you? Your cat's about ready to tear all my skin off."

"You---Smokey!"

She fumbled with the chain only a moment before opening the door. Smokey leapt up out of Liam's coat, but with only a moment of stumbling, Liam caught the cat before he hit the floor. He peeled off the soaked jacket, to reveal that his clothes were just as wet, bloodstained, muddy and tight against his skin. Scratches coursed over his arms and neck, with even a few across his cheeks. His shoes left a trail of dirt and dampness with every step.

She reached up to pet her cat's head. Smokey kept mewing pitifully.

"You found him--! Oh, I didn't think I'd ever see you again, you silly, silly cat---" she said.

She lifted up her soaked and dirty cat and held him tight against her chest. "You bad, bad boy. You had me so worried!"

"This little bugger sure can hide. I turned this entire town upside down, but I finally found 'em," Liam said.

He leaned against the door for a moment. His head drooped. For a moment she thought he might collapse right to the floor.

"Liam?" She reached out to pull on the corner of his shirt. "You didn't just--die--did you? Liam?!"

"Just a sec--I think the last of the coffee just wore out."

He coughed, and tried to fake a smile, fake his way through poise and composure. He only managed to stoop over in a deeper cough. He shuddered again, though tried to play it off, as if being ill was inherently unmanly.

"Go get warmed up. My shower is down the hall."

"Your own shower? Jeez, this is some fancy digs," Liam said. He looked about at her apartment like every little thing amazed him, even though he'd gotten a view just three days ago. Under her glance, she couldn't quite see the luxury he seemed to see. After New York, and California, and the large house in New Mexico, this apartment was mediocre at best. Clean, save for the cat hair which was inevitable, and small, with working appliances. It was modern enough, though the stove could use some fine-tuning. She had to have the gas checked about every other month. tk

The only reason why she hadn't gone to the dorm was an aunt who wanted to travel, and that the dorm didn't accept pets, of course. Well, that and perhaps an attempt to keep her away from rowdy Cambridge boys. It hadn't done much to keep her away from the rowdy Cambridge women, out of the marches and sit-ins for female equality, and the forefront of the positively buzzing movements that stretched all the way down south, and beyond.

He scooped up Smokey before she could say a thing, and walked towards the small hall towards the bathroom.

"I got this. We'll warm up together. We got pretty tight in those days," Liam said.

"Those marks on your arm say otherwise," she said.

"Yeah, we ran into some dogs along the way. They wanted to turn us into dinner, but they couldn't catch me---I'm like, like the--- " he sneezed into his wet coat sleeve. "---wind. A real sexy--" He sneezed again. "breeze."

She lifted her eyebrows. Sexy breeze--that was a new one.

She pulled out some clothes her old boyfriend had left and never collected. They were way too big for Liam's lanky frame, but he certainly wouldn't fit into her clothes. She stood awkwardly at the door, wondering the protocol. Finally she knocked, and waited for his response.

"You goin' to come in an keep me warm?" Liam said.

She blushed. "You've already got company in there. I brought some clothes for you," she said.

He could roll up the pants, she supposed. It was better than having to put his wet clothes back on. He surely wouldn't fit in her pajamas. She had to stifle laughter at the thought of him in nightgown covered in little kitties. It probably wouldn't even come to his thighs.

Just as she started down the hall, she heard his voice. She inclined her head to listen, until she realized it wasn't for her.

Hey, Smokey, I owe you one. But no goin' and runnin' off, or you'll make her sad. I bet you were out chasin' girls, weren't you? Yeah, you found yourself some cute kitty girlfriend to flirt with, I know how that is.

She smiled, and went back out to the kitchen. She had put off going out to get groceries when she'd only pass the meat she always gave Smokey as treats. She didn't have much left in the fridge. She pulled out a bright red Campbell's soup and flipped it over. The expiration date was still a couple months off. With a little undoing, and a little bending, she had a sauce pan and some water boiling.

*

She gathered up his wet clothes. Smokey was curled up near the wall heater he loved to lay on so. His fur was once again fluffy and dry.

"You dried him off?"

"Yeah, I pulled out the hair dryer. I wasn't goin' through your stuff, but he's been through too much to just be toweled off, you know? Didn't want him to catch a chill after all this."

"I was going to ask you, but you didn't seem the kind of guy who even knew what a hair dryer was," she said.

He laughed. "I got a ma. I've had to get the drier when I washed up late for Mass. It always made my hair like--" he put his hands on his head, like a pair of antlers.

Sophie chuckled. "I bet it was some sight."

"I got pictures, though I'd rather show you the ones that ain't embarrassin' first. Oh man, this smells fantastic. I can't wait to try some of this," he said.

"It's nothing special, just from a can," she said.

"You say that, but there's that guy up there makin' art with soup cans, and people pay money for it. So, see, you're actually just a little bit from makin' art--"

"Andy Warhol," she said.

"Yeah, him. Bet he's popular with the girls," Liam said.

"I doubt it. He's not really into that," Sophie said. She stirred her soup.

He took one spoonful and sighed. His head drooped, and he suddenly jerked back awake. He had nearly collapsed into the table. He tried to push himself up and fake it.

"When's the last time you slept?" Sophie said. She bent down to touch his forehead. He leaned into her touch, like he could fall asleep right there, wrapped in her arms.

"Can't remember. Think I passed out under an awning once, but I can't remember if it was for long or just a couple of minutes. Just kept buyin' coffee til I ran out of cash."

"Wait...I was in the projects days ago. You spent three whole days searching for Smokey?"

"I'd have spent a ton more lookin'. Would've gone as long as it took to get him back," he said.

She bent down and put her arms about him, a rare, impulsive gesture. She'd been muddled up for days, and this loudmouthed boy from the projects had almost gotten himself killed just to find her cat.

"Thank you so much," she said softly. When she pulled back, he had the dreamiest expression on his face. He reached forward, and in that moment, she knew he was going to kiss her. Far be it from pull away, she leaned into him. For the first time in days, she finally felt warmth returning to her. The kiss only intensified it, until it felt like she'd finally come alive again.

The chair toppled, but they didn't even break the kiss. The crash came suddenly, pain flaring over the second of pleasure. He stroked back her hair and gazed at her with such tenderness that it was overwhelming. She'd barely felt anything in these past few days but worry and exhaustion, and yet this one kiss woke her up from her stupor. Her lips tingled, and she found herself leaning back in for just a little more. The second kiss was deeper, and more sure. It wasn't just a pleasant accident, like every other moment of him stumbling and crashing into her life had been.

"Nailed it. I've been wantin' to do that for ages."

He definitely wasn't in any of her classes; she'd remember someone as loud as him. He'd surely be one of those to constantly interrupt the professors.

"You mentioned that, but I'm not sure where we've met before. Sorry, I'm not that great with names--"

"You don't remember me? I mean, this face is pretty hard to forget. Maybe if I had my newsboy cap on," Liam said.

She focused on the planes of his face, and that puckish smile of his. Hints of a memory came to her slowly. She'd only seen him through the corner of her eye as she walked on. Usually he was yelling at the street. He always yelled louder as she went by, but she never cared for that paper, not since they'd published an article talking about how the labor reform movement was an affront to the forefathers and a red menace, and how women voting was "a mistake that should be rectified."

"Oh! I remember you now. You're that newsboy, the one who is always yelling at the corner, flirting with every girl around. You'd always always try and fight with Richard when he walked me home."

He tensed in long held anger. "God, that guy was the biggest douchy asshole ever. The hell you see in him?"

"I have to agree with you on that. We aren't together anymore," she said.

"His loss," Liam said, though he'd broken into a smile. "He probably calls beggin' you to take him back, then you hang up on him, right?"

"Um, not really. Because he cheated on me, with my friend, no less. Former friend, I guess I should say. Then the asshole broke up with me before I could dump him and have the upper hand. He even told me it was my fault he cheated. I was too..."

The words came again. frigid, unfeeling, uninteresting, a battleaxe with preposterous ideals and so many more. He had spared her no quarter in tearing her down. He always would destroy anything to get the last word, no matter what the consequences.

"What? Who the hell would ever do somethin' like that? Seriously, what the hell? How could any guy come home to you and ever give another girl another glance?"

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls," she said.

She pushed herself up and dusted herself off. Best stop this before it went any further. "I'm very thankful you worked so hard to find Smokey, but---"

"No, wait, wait---" He cut in. He struggled to push himself up. The chair rattled beneath him. "Listen, gimme a second. I been rehearsin' this for ages, but I forgot it. Ummmm."

"Rehearsing? Like practicing a pick up line?" Sophie said.

"Nah, more like...preparin' in case I had to be a hero. Someone tryin' to steal your purse, harassin', you somethin' like that. You see, you were this high class girl that I'd never even get to look my way, but oh I wanted you to. But you stopped smilin'. Then you were walkin' alone and I wanted you to smile again, and maybe even smile at me for once. And I was passin' out papers at one of these meetin' places and you gave a speech, and it was friggin' amazin'. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. And yeah, I flirt a lot...flirted a lot, but you always stayed in the back of my mind. Even when I was talkin' to other girls, until I stopped with them because why even bother if it's goin' to be just you right there, thinkin' about you. That ain't fair to anybody. I gotta take a couple weeks to build up my cash again, and probably listen to the third degree from my boss and my ma, but you wanna go out sometime?"

"I just got out of a relationship with a cheater," she said.

"Good for you I don't got eyes for anybody else, huh? You think I'd do this for anyone? I'm probably goin' to die from the chills, and I don't even care, because I got to finally kiss you."

It had been some kiss, and his charms weren't entirely lost on her. Enough to almost make the reservations, the repeated thought of don't date a cheater again, once was enough, once was enough.

But, if he wasn't then--? Then what? Her mind was too muddled to even make sense of the issue.

"Let me think about it, all right? I've had a rough week. I need some time to recharge," Sophie said.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll be right there, hawkin' papers on the sidewalk," Liam said.

Sleet pelted the window. His coat was still soaked, covered in baseball team patches to cover over the many rips over the years. None of the buses would be running for hours. The kiss lingered, a warmth across her shoulders, in her chest, over her lips. She kept touching to her lips, as if something had gone wrong. None of Richard's kisses had done this to her. She got up and busied herself, just as she always did when feelings clouded her mind.

"Um, I'll go check on your clothes," she said.

When she returned, the kitchen was empty. She found him was passed out on the couch. She couldn't even imagine his level of exhaustion. She'd pulled all nighters for studying before, but never three in a row. She laid a dark, warm blanket out over him, and stood back for a moment. He seemed so peaceful, compared to the usual constant energy.

She went back to her room and began to ready herself. Smokey was curled up on the edge of her bed. She leaned down to absently stroke his soft ears.

Newsboy, killer of creeps, and rescuer of cats..Liam was a man of many trades, and more facets than she would've guessed at first glance. She laid a book out on her lap, but she couldn't focus. This time it wasn't from worry, but distraction at just how alive one kiss had made her feel. What would she risk for this feeling again?

*

She woke up alone. She walked through the house, afraid for a moment that it was a fever dream, and Smokey and Liam had never come home.

She went through each door, murmuring a soft here, kitty, kitty kitty... She'd almost given up hope that it happened at all, when she caught sight of them both. He was still asleep when she walked into the living room. Smokey had curled up on top of the covers with him, lending credence to his claim that they'd bonded.

"There you are," she said softly. Smokey let out a meow as she picked him up, and nuzzled against his silky fur. "Don't you go worrying me like that, you silly boy."

Liam didn't even stir. She tiptoed away and put down more cat food for Smokey. She started a pot of coffee, and pulled out her notes for memorization for the morning. A few minutes later, he came in. The pajamas hung on him, large enough to completely hide his hands away. He yawned enough for his shirt to lift up enough just a peek of skin and abdomen. Well, she could certainly stand to see a little more, Sophie thought.

"Best thing to wake up to," Liam said.

"Coffee?" Sophie said.

"You. And this fuzzy guy here at my feet." He bent down and picked up Smokey. Her cat was usually a persnickety sort, who only liked her and would claw up anyone else who dared touch him, but he started to purr in Liam's arms.

"I think I kind of get this havin' pets thing. This guy here is pretty neat," Liam said.

He set Smokey down softly, and reached for the coffee pot. After pouring it out, and gulping the strong black liquid--she always took her coffee black--he leaned against the counter.

"Hey, could I use your phone for a sec? I'd use a payphone, but I used my last a couple dollars already," Liam said.

"Oh, of course. Go ahead--it's right there on the wall," she said.

"Thanks, Sophie. You're great."

He dialed the number almost tentatively, and took a deep breath as it rung, shifting restlessly from foot to foot as the seconds went by with no answer.

"Hey, ma--"

The tirade over the phone line was loud enough that even she could catch parts of it from in the kitchen. She set her pencil aside as he tried to backtrack.

"Ma, listen, I---I, ma, just simmer down a sec. Ma---"

"Hand it over," Sophie said.

"What? Just a sec, ma--"

She took the phone from his hand. "Mrs. Dempsey?" she cut in.

Liam's mother stopped abruptly, shifting gears to politeness.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to thank you for raising such a thoughtful, caring son. He spent the last couple of days searching for my cat. In fact, he barely even ate or slept, and was in quite cold weather. He's still very exhausted, and I'm half afraid he's caught some kind of cold from it all."

"Did he now?" she said.

"Yes, He was out with several boys, and saved me from this man down there. He brought me home, and he later found my cat for me," she said.

"Wait, his brothers? A man?"

She summarized the events, only to hear a muffled noise in the background. She noticed that Liam's expression had gone from relief to pure dread.

"Actually for all this, I think you and me should meet. How about tea in a couple hours? He should get bed rest at home," she said. There was a silkiness to her voice, like a veiled threat. Sophie had touched a nerve somewhere.

She had a midday class she couldn't miss. Liam kept nervously looking around.

"I have classes in a little bit. Maybe later," Sophie said.

"How about later tonight then?"

She really was determined. Sophie clutched the phone a bit tighter.

"I got to check in at work, anyways," Liam said.

"Pass it back to my son, would you?" she said.

"Look ma, she was there. I didn't realize, I had to get her out of there. Yeah, I know. I'll see you soon."

Liam let out a long sigh of relief as he put the phone back on the wall. "I really owe you one, ma was friggin' furious."

"I'm pretty sure she still is," she said.

"Yeah, yeah we ain't supposed to let people in on it, but it's not like we could help it. I didn't even see you until we'd already started," Liam said.

She cleared her throat. "It? What, your...mafia thing?"

"Oh, hell no, we ain't goons. We just clean up the place. Can't rely on the police for nothin', so we do it. Do a talkin' to, or drag 'em out down so she can set 'em straight. Somebody's beatin' their wife and ma will come with a baseball bat and give 'em as many bruises as they handed out. Stuff like that. But---you can't tell anybody about this. The police already think we're guttertrash, the worst project rats around." Liam leaned against the counter. His fingertips curled around the edge.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, if whoever that was died, the world will be a safer place without him," she said.

"Yeah, he's one of the bad ones. He usually ain't in Southie, but he got in our territory, and we finally got 'em. You're lucky you got out. This guy is bad news. There's been a bunch of disappearances, and ma thinks it's him, but we could never get a line on him. The police never gave a damn, because all the disappearances were Roxbury and Southie," he said.

"Disappearances?" Sophie said.

"Girls," Liam said flatly, and left it at that.

If it hadn't been his territory, then why had he chosen those streets to call her towards? Maybe simply to trap her, or maybe because he thought it'd be abandoned, and it would cut her off from any help. Either way, she'd never know.

Liam stared up at the clock, and tensed. "Fuck, I've got to get out of here. I need to check in, or my job is toast. So, I guess this is goodbye for now. See you around, Sophie."

"Goodbye," she said softly.

When he left, Smokey meowed at the door mournfully. He was still there, staring at the door when she left for her classes.

*

On her way towards Anderson Memorial Bridge, she caught sight of someone all too familiar.

"Extra, extra, I got papers for who wants em, c'mon, I'm starvin' over here, help a guy out! C'mere, I'll show you something newsworthy!"

Liam let out a loud sigh as the people kept walking by. She'd done the same for years, leaving any paper buying to Richard. In retrospect, she wondered if Richard didn't buy from Liam just to shame him. He certainly had a cruel side, and if he'd picked up on Liam's feelings, well she wouldn't put it past him to taunt someone he counted as lesser.

And there weren't many who he didn't see as lesser.

Memories flooded back, how Richard had always disliked public displays of affection, except for in front of newsboys. Or, she should say, a certain newsboy. In the end, even those moments were tainted. She'd been nothing but a tool to insult someone else. And he certainly hadn't meant the things he said to her, just loud enough for Liam to surely hear every word.

Poor Liam had staked out the wrong corner. The paper was far too conservative to fly on this Cambridge corner. Now, had he moved up just a few more streets, by the bank, he probably would've quite a bit more money.

"Hey, hey, Sophie," he said. He bounced on the ball of his heels. "You been well? Good, good, I was hopin' to see you! Oh, you want some papers? For you, on the house," he said.

His hands were covered in wraps that were stained with the dark ink of newsprint.

"It's only been a couple of hours," she said.

He chuckled. "Still."

"You saved me from a creep and stayed up for days just to bring my cat home. I think a few cents thanks is the least I can do," she said. Before he could stop her, she held out the coins. "At least use it to buy something hot to drink. It's freezing out today."

"I don't get off for a ways, but I could grab a bite to eat with you pretty soon. But, I gotta get back here soon. I almost didn't get my job back when I returned with that whole searchin' thing," Liam said.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be! If I had to do it all over again, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Wanderin' around in the cold, shudderin' and sleepless, it was all so worth it."

"Liam...."

"Yeah, about that---look, I'm just goin' to lay it all down on the line. What do I gotta do to get back there. I mean, we really had a moment, then you were thinkin' I was nothin' but a skirtchaser, and I guess I blew it, but I wanna know is how do I fix this? You want me to stop flirtin' with other girls? Done. In fact, I ain't even paid them mind in ages. I can't promise I'll never look, because I got a job and all. I can't look away when gals pass like they're hideous and not ruin business. You said you were thinkin' on it, so...you got any idea?"

"I know you say you've liked me a while---"

"I have, for ages and ages!"

"---But I only met you a couple of days ago. Granted, they were an intense few days, but I don't make snap judgments. I'm still thinking about it, and I've got a lot on my mind right now. And it's only been a few hours. I've barely even had a chance to think this over," Sophie said.

"This is one of those where maybe means no, right?" Liam said. He took off his newsboy's cap and rubbed at his tawny hair. He had a cowlick above his forehead that refused to be tamed. "Everyone told me not to get my hopes up, but...I really thought for a moment--"

"No, it means I'm still thinking about things. Don't you think things through before you do anything?"

"Nope," Liam said.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," she said.

She saw Liam's gaze caught by someone behind her. His jaw tightened, and so did his fist. She turned to see her ex, walking closer. He was with someone else she didn't recognize, but who had the socialite sort of perfection. Blond, coiffed, and with just the right fashion choices to show she had money and a pedigree. Her mother was probably part of the Daughters Of The Revolution. Of course, Marcy had been little more than a divergence, just like this woman would be.

And like she was. Once that thought had left her bitter, but these days, she was more focused in filling her life with people who weren't complete assholes.

"Sophia," he said. His mouth pursed as he glanced over her. The woman tightened his plaid scarf. There was a possessive edge there, a claiming. Maybe she knew his history, maybe she was even one of Marcy's acquaintances.

"This is your latest fling? You always did have such poor taste," he said.

"Oh, fuck off. You're the one who's got poor taste. How the hell could you have her as a girlfriend and just let her go? What next, you goin' to throw diamonds into the river for fun? Burn up hundred dollar bills? She ain't just the type of girl you meet at the chicken place!"

Richard smirked. "I suppose I'm not surprised she picked someone to idealize her. She never did like anyone challenging her preposterous beliefs."

"Only you would think gender pay equality would be preposterous," she said under her breath.

Liam lifted his fist. "Hey, dick, how about I introduce you to my fist? Pick on someone your own size!"

He was several inches shorter than Richard, and Richard had at least fifty pounds on him. But Liam had spunk, she had to admire that, even as she reached out to touch his arm.

"Liam, don't. If you go to jail, your mother will be sad. And he comes from a family of lawyers," Sophia said.

Liam clenched his fist tighter. "All the more reason to smash his face in."

"She's right, you know," Richard said. "I always did think she had a wonderful amount of pragmatism and sense. If you so much as leave a mark on me, I'll ensure you and the rest of your project rat, Southie scum family are locked away for good."

Richard smirked. She noticed the twitch in Liam's jaw. Just as Liam pulled his fist back, she gripped his arm.

"He isn't worth it," Sophie said.

Liam turned back towards her, with more determination and fire in his gray eyes than she'd ever seen. "You're worth it," Liam said.

"He isn't worth it. You'll never see your mother again except through the bars, and you'll never get a chance to take me out, either. If I'm worth going to prison for, then I'm worth living for," Sophie said.

Liam's hands trembled. Richard was unphased, even as his back was to the metal fence.

"Richie, should I call the cops?" said the woman at his side. She seemed demure, even apologetic to speak. A flowered scarf was pulled down tight around her head, more for show than actual warmth. Just his type, Sophie thought.

"No need, my dear," he said absently.

He'd called her 'dear' as well. Come to think of it, after they'd gotten together, he'd rarely used her name. Likely so he wouldn't say the wrong name at an inopportune moment.

Liam pulled back.

"Just remember, it was her who saved your sorry ass."

Richard smirked. "Surely," he said.

He walked off, whistling to himself. Liam let out a long sigh. "I wanted to punch him so bad. I've wanted to wipe the smug smile off of his face for years. What'd you even see in that jackass, anyways?" Liam said.

Sophie watched him leave, and sighed.

"My mother introduced me to him, and he was agreeable enough at first. I wasn't particularly opposed to the idea of dating him when he suggested it. My family liked him, so I figured why not? Of course, I thought we had a meeting of the minds, and he thought he was going to conquer me."

Liam grimaced. "Yech, the prick gets worse and worse."

"It was a decent enough way to pass some of the time," Sophie said.

"You deserve way more than that jerk―way more than 'decent,'" Liam said.

Her cheeks were red, and not simply from the Boston winter. "Well, thank you. I know that now," she said.

"He never was very fond of the organizing and archival work I did at Schlesinger library. I doubt he liked that the attention was going from him," she said.

Liam beamed at the mention. "Oh, yeah! I saw you at one of those. I got a hot tip that all these activist college students would be dyin' for the news so I'd make a killin'. Saw you give a speech and everythin'. Not gonna lie, you looked great up there, and you really kicked ass. I even paid attention the whole time, and I can't even keep focused on my favorite team for too long. It was just... real nice. Nobody stands up for us project rats, so seein' you talk so passionately about people who can't read good and learnin' was real somethin'," he said.

"I must've not seen you," Sophie said.

"Yeah, that seems to happen a lot with you," Liam said. For a moment, there was a hint of old pain and regrets. But he brightened, filled with new hope. "But, you finally saw me! I'm not like, some ghost here tryin' to make a buck and turn your head."

"Thank you for this. And for everything. Thank you--for bringing him back. Smokey, I mean." She cleared her throat. Her mind was full of so many things which wouldn't distill down into words. Thank you for saving my life, thank you for bringing joy back into my life.

He stared a long moment at her lips. She thought she saw his head incline, just a bit, before he snapped back, like he was still drowsy.

"Do I have anything on my face? You keep staring."

He took in a sharp intake of breath.

"Yeah, gorgeousness, but you got that all over, so it can't be helped," Liam said.

"Okay, that was a good one," she said.

Liam puffed up with pride. "You're the first one to ever hear it!"

"The first of many? Lucky me," Sophie said.

"The first and only," Liam said.

"This is--"

"Crap, I know, I know, you wanted space. I'm no good at waitin'." Liam pulled his newsboy cap down a little more.

"You said you wanted my attention for years," she said. "Would a few more days really hurt?"

"It's just a lot harder with you actually here. I'm talkin' to you, and all I can think is all the places I wanna take you." He looked up to her, his gaze pleading for things her muddled mind still couldn't make sense of.

"Well, you'll be taking me to your mother's house in a couple hours. There's a start," Sophie said. She brushed off her skirt needlessly, just to give her a reason to look away. "Should I meet you out here for the walk down?"

"Oh yeah, I'll be here waitin'," Liam said.

She walked on towards classes. However, as she took her seat among the lecture hall, her mind couldn't help but wander back to the streets of Cambridge, and the streets of Southie.

*

Sophie hadn't anticipated she'd be walking under the Dover station quite so soon. Southie didn't look any more welcoming in the light of day. A group of boys wore tattered jackets of leather and leaned against the front of a closed down store. The door had started to warp inwards, and the glass storefront was cracked. Their steady gaze made her pull her coat tighter about her, like a shield.

"Don't worry, I got you," Liam said. He waved to the boys by the street.

"Yo, Collin, Johnny, Donovan."

There were answering replies, but they almost came as jeering. She didn't dare glance back, for every gaze solidified the fact that she did not belong in this place. Women talked on the street, and they followed her, with a stern, even uncompromising look.

Eventually, she kept her gaze forward and just kept on walking. He took her by the wrist, and led her down a different street, towards an apartment building which seemed to be crumbling inwards. So this is entropy in motion, she thought. She'd heard about the projects, but she'd never quite seen how bad they were. She tentatively climbed up the stairs at the front, which had holes and thick lines, enough to wonder if they'd survive the weight of both of them. Inside, water stains were so prevalent over the wallpaper that they seemed to blend into the design. She could no longer tell where the damage ended and the flowers began. A glass of soda was left in the corner. Brown things floated within--some kind of insect. She wrenched her gaze away. She didn't want to know.

The stairs creaked beneath her feet. He rushed ahead, but she took every step with care, lest the wood, which seemed too soft, too pliable, crack beneath her feet.

"Oh, don't worry about those stairs. They complain a lot, but they ain't given out yet, and my brothers and I come down it tons of time, all at once. And you seen 'em."

Liam was the smallest of the group, though hardly the least fearsome. He had the kind of speed which could land him medals if he tried--and if he wasn't from Southie.

Finally they came to apartment 204 on the second floor. Liam knocked, then knocked louder above the noise inside.

"Ma! We're here!"

A woman answered the door who at first Sophie thought must be a sister, for she didn't look nearly old enough to be the mother of this many boys. She smiled, and Sophie saw hints of fine lines at her forehead. Sophie couldn't help but see her as almost mythical and fierce. A lady justice dealing out punishments. The room smelled like cigarette smoke and apple pie. There were hints of glamor, like her blue cocktail dress, which had faded with age, yet still held a glory of an earlier age. The porcelain on the wall was chipped, and somewhat mismatched. What she noticed most was the lack, shelves bare which obviously had once contained something precious. Things which must've been sold, one by one, to make ends meet.

Sophie was motioned towards a couch in the middle of the room. A radio was set in the corner, though no television. The furniture was mismatched, though obviously she'd made some effort to make it fit. Covers that didn't quite fit held the same sort of patterns as the wallpaper, giving it almost the effect of blending in completely.

Several of Liam's brothers were around the room, much like the youths she'd seen earlier, they were anything but welcoming. They were all much taller than Liam, and thicker, with a rough edge that he didn't have.

And they were all dark haired, with Liam as the only one with dark blond hair among the whole lot of them. Dark Irish boys with fierce blue eyes standing like sentinels.

"Given that Liam took you home, I'm sure he told you everythin'. He don't know the concept of secrets," said one brother.

"Irish whispers," said one of his brothers.

"And what would you friggin' do, huh tough guy? What the hell would've you done, Michael?" Liam said.

"How about keepin' your trap shut for once?" retorted the brother.

"Boys," she said. Her voice had just a hint of sternness beneath her velvety voice. "Try and be civilized for once. We got company. Why don't you go outside a while, run off that temper?"

Though it was phrased as a question, Sophie recognized it for the command it was. After a few muttered all right, ma's, all of them but Liam disappeared down the stairs.

Why don't you sit down? I'll brew some tea," she said.

"Thank you, but I just had a cup of coffee. I'm afraid if I drink too much, I'll not be able to focus on my notes tonight," Sophie said.

"Then I suppose we'll have to get to business. Liam, would you go get my sewin' kit?"

His forehead creased in confusion. "Your sewin' kit?"

"I'm sure you ripped something. You always do," she said.

"Okay, ma. But, don't give her the third degree!" Liam said.

"I'll be sure to keep it in the first or second degree," she said dryly.

Liam reluctantly disappeared into the background, and so did his many brothers.

"Sorry for my rudeness, my boy just has been givin' me so many gray hairs lately. Completely disappearin' off the map--he didn't even tell his brothers what he had planned. And on some of the ugliest weather around, too. Anyways, I'm Colleen Dempsey, and you are?"

"Sophie Pauling," she said.

"Well, Sophie, why don't you tell me exactly what happened? Liam tends to exaggerate, you see," Colleen said.

Sophie again described the best she could, sparing no detail on how he'd spent each of those missing days finding her cat.

"I see. You certainly saw enough." She lit a cigarette, and took a draw. The thick, gray smoke filled the room, a bitter smell among bitter circumstances.

"You see, everythin's sinkin' here. The cops come and take bodies away and nobody gets caught. Maria O'Roarke comes back with a black eye and we're just supposed to sit back and just mind our own business? Well I got tired of watchin' kids get buried and decided I might as well do somethin' about it. Roxbury has been takin' care of their own, we should too. There's too much silence in Southie, and not enough protectin' our own."

"You're vigilantes, then," she said.

"That's a pretty cool name, like a bunch of superheroes," Liam said.

He had an old cookie tin balanced under one arm. He laid it gently in his mother's lap, and sat down in the loveseat next to his mother, and just across from Sophie.

"I just have one question: what if you try the wrong person? Everyone is entitled to a fair trial, a jury of their peers," Sophie said.

Colleen poised the cigarette between two fingers, and considered her. "My, you got an idealistic one here," Colleen said.

"Yeah! She's always talkin' about..." Liam frowned as he tried to remember. "Labor reform. Unions. Equal rights. Gender equality. Archivin' in a library. All that stuff."

Colleen raised her dark eyebrows. "Does she, now?"

"She's up there in Harvard square," Liam said enthusiastically. "I bet she gets real good grades, with how well she talked. It should've been borin', but it wasn't at all. She made it interestin'."

"I'm a Radcliffe student," Sophie added.

"My, my, I see we've got a real genius here. Only the very rich or the very smart get in there. Usually the former," Colleen said.

"She's real, real smart," Liam said. His face was flushed with enthusiasm as he started to list off all of her accomplishments again. She spent most of her points during the meetings feeling awkward, like no one would ever notice, and here he'd memorized things he never would've learned otherwise. She ducked down, blushing slightly. Sophie couldn't help but wish she had accepted some tea, just to give her something to busy herself with, to hide her growing blush.

"I see. I think we got off to a bad start. You see, most of the time, I just give them a talkin' to. Remind 'em to keep it in line." She took a draw on her cigarette. "It's only the real bad ones that get a more direct approach. And I think you'll definitely agree that this man wasn't remotely innocent. You're definitely a witness to that. We can't prove he's connected to those disappearances, but many of those girls were lookin' for things, too. Cats, dogs, even bikes. All numbers askin' for help findin' somethin'. Then one day, they just went missin'. I don't think that's a coincidence."

Sophie couldn't help but shudder at the memory.

"And if you really are all for reform, then you've seen the police break up your little meetings. Maybe you've even been called a Red before. You've seen people hauled off in cuffs, ain't you? You've seen their interests, and yet you still trust them?"

She was the Empress, Judith with her sword. In another life, maybe she would've been a queen, a leader. Here, she was a mother with looks beyond her years in the South End of Boston.

"I've never been arrested," Sophie said.

"Yet," she said. "Think you'll be singin' another tune when you get on the wrong side of the cops?"

"I suppose I'll cross that bridge when I get there," Sophie said evenly. Though as it was, student assistant archivists weren't the front in the line of suspects.

"Look, Sophie, don't underestimate the women's gossip 'round here. Nothin' gets past ma. She ain't just lashing out to anyone, and like she said, most don't even get nothin' but a warnin'. The mafia and gangs are way worse. You get a warnin' shot--in the head!"

"Um, anyways, it's no business of mine. I've got far too many things to do, if you were worried I'd tell. Besides, I'm very grateful that man isn't on the streets anymore. I suppose in the end, we're both fighting to protect people in different ways," she said.

"Good to hear," Colleen said.

"Is that all? I'm not trying to be rude, I have a lot of memorizing to do tonight. My cat being gone...distracted me. I haven't gotten a good study session in all week," Sophie said. She shifted awkwardly in her seat.

"I think we understand each other. You don't seem the type who'd snitch," she said.

"Sophie wouldn't be a rat!" Liam cut in.

"Of course not," Sophie said. "Ah--bye then. For now, I suppose." Sophie busied her hands with checking her purse needlessly, just so she had an excuse not to speak anymore.

As far as 'meeting the parents' went, it could've gone worse, though not much worse.

Liam followed her out to the door.

"I really figured you meetin' my ma would go differently. She ain't usually that hardass, she's just afraid you'll squeal. One of the biggest codes here is silence. We keep to our own, and we don't squeal. Bein' a rat is the worst kind of thing a person could be," Liam said.

"You must not get along with them, then," Sophie said.

Liam laughed. "Irish whispers, Irish whispers. That's what the guys are always sayin' to me. Can't help it, got too much to say. Hey, you want me to walk you back?"

It was only about fifteen minutes, but it became infinitely safer with him at her side. She could only imagine the stony stares of the people on the blocks without him there. Anyone from outside Southie was instantly suspect.

"Yes--I'd love that," she said.

He broke out into the biggest smile. Sophie gathered her things, trying to keep the thoughts that brought heat to her face at bay, like he has the most lovely smile.

Down the street, he walked close to her. He even put his arm about her as they walked past the group of those same boys. Their cold gaze followed her as she walked towards Cambridge.

"Just play along--they don't take to outsiders, especially the Harvard Square types," Liam said in an undertone.

She didn't shrug off his arm. It felt warm, and even good, though it was more suited to sitting by the fire than walking. He compromised by putting his hand about her wrist. When they were out of earshot of the boys, Sophie cleared her throat, and began to speak.

"I'm flattered you think I'm such a good speaker, I'm really not that high up or some big administrative person that you seem to think I am. I'm actually just working at Schlesinger library." She pushed stray dark hairs behind her ears. "Sometimes I attend other meetings and speak about new acquisitions for the library, and sometimes I attend other meetings about things like that. All sorts of things you mentioned. At the library, we're working on a massive oral project right now, though it's all very hush hush. I can't even talk about it more than that," Sophie said.

"But, the way you went on about people who can't read good, and how the cops don't care--it was real powerful stuff. When it comes to politicians, people are always sayin' they're just the English and are just goin' to fuck us ten ways to Thursday, but you really cared. I'd rather vote for you than them any day," Liam said.

"Thanks for your vote of support, though I'm usually just an assistant archivist--though I show up at woman's meetings, if that's what you mean...if you tried those, then you really wouldn't have gotten a sale with that crowd, and such a conservative paper," Sophie said.

"It wasn't a big loss, not when I got to see you," Liam said.

"It's an important project. Sometimes I just think of the libraries of Alexandria and all the history that was lost and feel sad all over again. We lost so much." Sophie pulled her coat around her a little tighter. It wasn't sleeting anymore, but there was still a chill in the air.

Liam looked quizzically back at her. "The what of what now?"

"You never learned about the libraries of Alexandria? They were destroyed, and so much knowledge was lost." She went on, explaining deep into the detail of the ancient civilizations, and the tragic loss of knowledge which had happened.

"Man, if the nuns were half as interestin' and a good speaker as you, maybe I wouldn't have dropped out. Ma's pretty sore about it, but I couldn't take the nuns smackin' me around with rulers anymore. I got kicked out of a few schools for fightin', and then just dropped it to go to work. Seemed kind of pointless, anyways. I ain't ever goin' to Harvard. Hell, I couldn't even make community, let alone some rich place. Suppose that's embarrassin', around someone like you--so smart and all." Liam put his arms behind his neck in a stretch as he walked on ahead.

"Oh, that doesn't have to be the end. There's something called the G.E.D. I can find you some materials," Sophie said.

"Thanks, but I'd just fail it," Liam said.

"I'd help you study," Sophie said quickly.

Liam turned around to face her. "Really?" He tilted his head, surveying her over with a perplexed, almost wary expression.

"Of course. I have to warn that I'm relentless when it comes to studying. Just ask anyone who's ever been in a study group with me." She laughed to herself. "They tend to run away because they can't keep up and don't want to be dragged to the library constantly."

"I ain't about to be runnin' away. I don't know what it'll do me any good, but it'll make ma happy, at least," Liam said.

She'd never seen this aspect of him. Underneath the bluster and braggery, she saw hints of something. Something he was letting her see, opening up to reveal past the rough edges.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find something to do. You've got such drive and determination," she said.

"Glad you noticed! Yeah, I taught myself," Liam said smugly. "You wanna see my times? I can make tons of distance in seconds flat. I mean tons."

Without waiting for her to answer, Liam shot off down the street, speeding past other people walking home and to shops. In just a few seconds he rushed back, leaping over the trash cans and fire extinguishers in his path. He didn't even lose any speed with the many obstructions in his path.

He did a final bunny hop, and let out a massive cheer. "Just look at that! Ain't it award winnin', Sophie?"

"That's---something. Were you ever on the track team, when you were in school?"

"Yeah, I was in track! I was a real star, we almost went to nationals! But, I got expelled for fightin'," Liam said. His enthusiasm dulled a little bit at the mentions of his expelling.

"I don't know how I'm goin' to get back there, but I am. I just keep thinkin' like Ali, you know? 'I am the greatest! I am the handsomest!' I speak it into the bathroom mirror every mornin'. I just don't know where to go. I ain't in school. I tried to go back and show off, but I'm twenty-three, and they got an age limit apparently." Liam scrunched up his nose.

"You know, I bet you would. I could look into places you could get into," she said.

"Really, you'd do that, too?"

"You've already done so much for me," she said.

"Oh, I'd do tons more--tons! Just ask. You need anythin' lifted, or to be taken out on some dates, I'm your man!"

She smiled. "I'm sure you would. Unfortunately, the library is closed right now, so it'll have to wait."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?" Liam said eagerly.

"After my classes," she said.

Already they'd come to her block. With a sinking feeling, she came to her door, and the end of her time with Liam.

"All right, I'll bring my A-game. Goodnight, Sophie."

"Goodnight, Liam."

Before she turned, she heard a whistle, and turned.

Hey, Sophie, watch this!" He rushed off down the street. She watched him until he disappeared down the street, running so fast that she couldn't make out the details of him, only his grace and speed.


*

Liam glared at some of the students passing by.

"You got a problem, pal?"

Before he could get himself expelled from the library, Sophie pulled him in, and guided him towards the less frequently used back tables.

"I got the material you wanted," she said. She pulled out a stack of papers. He frowned as he read, very slowly, speaking to himself over the words.

This might take more work than she thought.

She got a glimpse at the sort of student he'd been quite soon into their study session. His leg jostled, and he couldn't seem to sit still or focus. Only three pages into the documents, he set it aside.

She'd planned an assessment of his skills, though in just these few moments, she realized that this was going to take much, much more than she'd thought.

"What was your last class?"

"Ummmm, don't remember. I wasn't too great a student. I hated bein' cooped up in stupid classrooms."

At her look of dismay, Liam continued.

"I ain't tryin' to be bad--I just can never focus. My brain is all over the place. I try and force it in place and I'm thinkin' about runnin', or you, or things I gotta do. My mind keeps wanderin', even though I'd like to stick it right to this book. Plus, your lips are really distractin'," Liam said.

She could feel just a bit of traitorous heat in her cheeks. He was sure to have seen as well.

"It's the truth," Liam said.

"You know, I attended a lecture. It wasn't part of my classes, but it sounded interesting."

"You attend classes you ain't takin' for fun?" Liam said incredulously. "You really are queen of the eggheads."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said dryly.

"You should, it is," Liam said.

"Anyways--Hyperkenetic Impulse disorder was mentioned. I ended up reading a really long, fascinating paper on it, and then some books on it. And a lot of the symptoms were what you're describing," she said.

"So, you think I got this--Hyper whatever? Uhhhh...How long do I have to live?"

Sophie took the papers, and reordered them. "Oh, it's not like that at all. There's pills you can take for it. Rita-something. I'll have to check the papers again. It was just added to the DSM. Apparently the students had marked increase in concentration once they started treatment."

Liam folded his arms over the table, and laid his head there. "I'm tryin' to study, I really am. I can't focus, and I hate feelin' stupid. Why do I even need this shit? The only square root of pi I need is the one I'm shovin' in my mouth."

She couldn't help but grin at the quip.

"I ain't book smart, I get that. I'm a lot of things, but the only A I ever got was in gym. I don't need that crap, anyways."

She noticed that he'd doodled a picture of her in the margins. It had a cartoonish edge, but was filled with a certain realism. It was flattering to see herself through his eyes, through his pen.

"Did you teach yourself to draw, too?" she sad.

"Oh, it's no big deal. I just gotta keep my hands busy. Nothin', just stuff while I suffer through the nuns yakin' on and on about stuff. I'm probably goin' to hell for that one," he gave her a crooked smile.

"What if I read to you while you drew?"

"What?" Liam looked up from the table.

"The paper I read showed a controlled trial that suggested Hyperkenetic Impulse disorder could be combated by more, well, different forms of study. The studies implied that the students weren't broken, and were in fact really adept at multitasking, and their grades would go up exponentially once they tried these controlled trials, and medication, and different study methods. This paper had some really fascinating insight on how people can learn effectively, splitting it into categories of kenetic learners, audio learners, visual learners, and people who combine all of the above―but I'm babbling," she said.

Sometimes she'd learn something so interesting that she couldn't help but go on and on. Though half the time, Smokey was the only one who heard these rambles. None of her other coworkers, or friends cared to hear.

"Huh," Liam said. He flipped over his palms to reveal his wrist. "Got my wrists slapped so many times. Got told I was goin' to hell for not bein' able to sit still in class. That's Catholic school for you. ...You'd really go that far for me?"

"Well, I'm sure I can get a credit out of here somewhere," she said flippantly.

"You'd sure get in ma's good graces if I actually pass. She's been on me to graduate forever."

"After that first meeting, I'd be glad for any help I could get to be back in her good graces," Sophie said dryly.

"You got plans to meet her again?" Liam said.

"Maybe," she said.

"So, is this a study date?" Liam said.

"This is something I'm not currently defining," she said.

"So, goin' into bold new undefined territory. I like it," Liam said.

"I hope you like conjugating these verbs. I warned you, I'm a harsh mistress when it comes to studying," Sophie said

"I really like that―not the verbs so much, but your voice."

*

After the past few weeks, Sophie could barely stand the thought of looking at what her test scores must be. She tried to fit in several studying sessions, though now she had to fit in Liam between them. As always, he was a handful, but she honestly thought progress was being made.

If anything, it proved that she was glad she'd moved to archiving and history instead of going into teaching, like she'd first considered.

"--did you hear me, Ms. Pauling?"

She looked up, startled from her notes. The rest of the class had filed out, and she hadn't even noticed, or gotten up to say any goodbyes.

"Pardon? I'm sorry, I haven't been sleeping well."

"Young love?" Her professor smiled. He had small circular glasses perched on a very angular nose.

Her voice squeaked."What?"

In her life, Sophie had never fallen in love. It wasn't simply that she never gave in fully, as no one had truly interested her enough. Books were filled of people who gave everything for love, and in the end, it seemed tedious and pathetic, not romantic. She got into relationships to pass the time on occasion, with boring men who with prospects, but they never lasted. Usually they found things like equal pay or women's rights and history offensive. Which was for the best; the last she needed was a messy engagement to get out of, or a divorce after ending up at the altar with a man who planned on her being barefoot and pregnant.

She was proud that she'd never gone completely over anyone, that she'd never spent nights desperately crying as if her world had gone sideways. She could enjoy fantasy just as she could enjoy Tolkien: as something which would likely never happen to her. Many women pioneers had been without husbands, she had reasoned.

Then again, the men usually turned off any admiration she had when they inevitably said some awful thing about women's places, and what she should do with her life.

But that one kiss had awoken more in her than all the dates and ex-boyfriends combined. She found herself remembering his puckish grin even when she was supposed to be studying, and then making up plans for the next time.

Study turned to lunch plans. Lunch plans turned to thinking of expanding the curriculum with a museum visit. Each list was sneaking more and more of him into her life.

She'd even doodled a heart on the edge. The rest she could excuse away, but that was inexplicable.

"N-no, no, no, nothing like that--"

He smirked. "The lady doth protest too much," he said.

Leave it to a literature professor to see right through someone. And to be completely revealed with Shakspearicles as well. She blushed more, despite herself.

"Maybe a little, but that wasn't all. A lot happened these past few weeks. My cat went missing, the meetings have ramped up..." she cleared her throat.

"Of course," he said smugly. She scrunched up her nose. He could be so insufferable at times.

"We're not Beatrice and Benedrick!" She cleared her throat. "I mean, could you repeat that? The new class dates, I mean. I seem to have misplaced them."

She quickly jotted down the next frame of rescheduled class dates. Right next to the damning heat, which dispelled every little denial she could try and think of.

*

Sophie held the papers tighter to her chest. The heart was to her heart, probably leaking ink into her violet blouse.

Liam leaned against the wall, with his cap pulled low. Blood dripped down his lower lip. His jacket had several rust-colored stains, and she couldn't quite tell if they were new.

She dropped her books and papers, and immediately rushed over to his side.

"Liam--your face! What happened?" She reached out to touch him, only pulling back when she saw the bruises at his jaw.

"Aw, I just got in a fight. I was talkin' teams at the bar and this asshole Yankees fan said the Sox sucked. It's how we do things in Southie. Got a problem? Punch somebody out." He smiled as blood dripped down his chin.

Sophie reached into her purse, and finally located some tissues among all he mess of gum, lipstick, and the class date notes she'd been looking for that morning. She patted over the wound, as gently as she could. He still slightly flinched.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to see this all get infected---"

"You were worried about me?" Liam burst out in triumphant laughter.

"Of course I was. I'm not heartless!"

"Of course you ain't. You got a ton of carin'. Who else would go and do stuff like friggin' union and labor reform crap? And worry so much about your Smokey."

She stroked his cheek. In the end, what was she even running from?

"You know, you're the only boy I've found that ever liked that. It was always a me or or the politics," she said.

"Their loss. Girls with brains are hot. I mean with the way you had that crowd fired up, you could be president, honest!"

She ducked her head, and chuckled. "I'm not even assistant-manager of our division, let alone president."

"No, I mean real president. Imagine it--Sophie Pauling, first woman president."

"Well, that's a lot higher than I was thinking," Sophie said.

"Well, I'm sure you could make it. You got it. Everythin'. The looks, the smarts, the carin'. You'd really clean stuff up."

His knuckles were bruised and bloodied. A pile of soaked bandages. cut from his hands lay on the street next to him. On his wrist she saw a small tattoo, a series of dark dots that looked like a shamrock. She stroked her thumb across his wrist, across that little black spots of ink.

"Aww, this is nothin'. You should see the other guy!"

He broke off as she kissed him, right there in the street. He looked both dreamy and stunned, and hers, she thought. He rested his forehead against her own, warmth to warmth, and just the tickle of his skin.

Hers, she thought. She pulled back.

"Sophie? Man, if I knew you'd react like this, I'd go get in fights with Yankees fans every day," Liam said.

"Don't get yourself hurt too much," she said hoarsely.

"I'll right, I'll tell 'em to avoid the face," Liam said.

She pulled back just a little, and squared her shoulders. She'd used the same technique when debating, but she wasn't usually necking with the other person on the side of the debating table.

"You have one chance. If you so much as whistle at another girl, I will toss you out so fast, you won't even know what happened. Don't test me; I burned all of Richard's stuff in front of the yard. The fire apartment came and everything."

"Wait, wait, you're sayin' yes?" Liam said.

"If you cheat on me, I'll never speak to you again. Hell, I won't even look at you again. You will be completely dead to me. Do you understand?"

"Oh yeah, loud and clear! When can we go? I get my paycheck in soon, but once it's here, we can go have a ball!"

"I won't be able to think about it until the end of this week. I have a lot of studying to do," she said.

"That's for the best, I gotta wait for payday to get any fun in anyways. Unless you wanna just hang out at the park. It's a bit cold this time of year, though. Not even the fun type of cold. Sleet ain't great to be out in. Not like snow. You can't build a snowman with sleet," Liam said.

The pavement dug into her legs, and her hose was probably completely ruined now, but despite it all, there was nowhere she'd rather be than curled up by him.

*

A week later, she found herself back in the Lunchonette Cafeteria. Perhaps she was a little too well dressed for this, but she was sure he wouldn't mind. Mary smiled knowingly as they came in the door.

"You look really great. You goin' to give a speech thing?"

"What, no," she said, and laughed to herself. "No, I'm just a girl spending time with a boy today. A girl spending time with a boy who might even be her steady boyfriend if he plays his cards right."

"Best word in the entire language, other than Sophie," Liam said. he leaned back.

"Smokey is a pretty good word, too," she said.

"Aw, yeah. I wouldn't forget the little guy!"

With Richard she had never quite felt a spark. He was acceptable enough, until he wasn't. But as she leaned in towards Liam, she felt again that rising of heartbeat. She'd argued with classmates and friends that love was overrated, that the thought to give up anything, especially schooling, was preposterous and yet here she was, being a hypocrite. Hypocrisy had never been so sweet.

Though, with the way he'd gone on about her meetings, she wouldn't have to be giving up anything. And, she thought, this is a big reason why she was falling inwards at such an alarming rate. What a relief to trade in for a man who thought she could become president, from ones who thought she didn't even deserve the right to vote.

"Anyways, you got more speech stuff, let me watch. I'll vote for you!"

Technically it was only their first date, depending on whether the first trip to the diner constituted as a 'date' or not. She personally was inclined to think not, considering that she'd almost died less than fifteen minutes before, and spent most of it almost collapsing from shock and exhaustion. The studying did not, the many walks home likely did not, and meeting his mother to get warned certainly didn't. She was also fairly sure that even if they'd kissed, him showing up on her doorstep covered in scratches and soaked with her bedraggled cat in tow didn't count either.

Or, maybe it just counted as a beginning. The prologue, the setting of the scene. She liked that. He was my prologue, she thought.

And maybe, just maybe, her epilogue. It seemed such a risk, trying with this boy from Southie, who'd seen so much death. A rough drop out from the worst of the projects.

She reached for the bill, and watched his expression go from happy to a little dismayed.

"Ey, I'm not a deadbeat, I can get this," He reached for his wallet and quickly counted his assorted wad of dollars and several pennies with a worried expression.

As far as she was concerned, it was never too early to broach the subject which had broken up most of her last dates.

"I'd like to pay. Is that a problem?"

"You got it last time," Liam said. "Besides, it's payday. A guy just wants to spoil his girl sometimes. Not havin' the dough to do so...it's frustratin'," Liam admitted. He rubbed the back of his arm sheepishly.

"So, otherwise you wouldn't mind me paying for dates...or expect me to say, give up my job later on? I didn't go to Radcliffe just in hopes of finding a husband."

She'd gotten closer to the M word than intended. But, she was a single minded girl. He'd long passed the part where he could be just so easily forgotten, and she liked him far to much to consider him just a fling. Of all the boyfriends, he'd be the one she regretted scaring away. Even at one date, she knew this. Every time she was around him, she felt a sinking feeling, like she was falling into something she'd never known. It was thrilling and frightening all at once. She felt alive in a way she'd always assumed was fantasy.

Richard had always wanted to flaunt his wealth. Paying herself might cause problems, especially considering that Liam made a fraction what she did. Either he'd be humiliated, or he might like being paid for like some kept boy a little too much.

"We could take turns, so it's equal," she said. "I pay one day, you pay another. Eventually we'll be splitting costs evenly."

"Well, if it means we get to go on more dates, I'm game. At least until I hit it big. When I'm rakin' in the millions, it'll never be a problem. Though I'll have to buy ma a mansion first."

"Even if we become millionaires, I'd want to do this. Richard already thought he'd convince me to be a stay-at-home-mother. We might as well part ways if you're going to think the same."

He looked taken aback, and didn't respond immediately, which was very telling; Liam was the sort of guy who blurted everything out without a single thought. She was surprised he didn't bolt towards the door. She hadn't just brought up the M word again, she'd invoked an ex-boyfriend that he personally hated.

She could practically see the headlines: Girl singlehandedly sabotages her own date, news at eleven. She sighed, and thought of ways to change the subject.

"Now that I've made a mess of things--" she said dryly.

"Look, you're smart and all, but you're thinkin' too much! Just leap. So what if I find out you steal the covers, your feet smell or you fart in bed, or you foot the check? You think I'm just goin' to go runnin'?"

"It's happened before," she said.

"Then they were fools, but I'm glad, because it means I get to be here," Liam said.

"I guess this is just very heavy talk, I just don't want to start on the wrong foot. Considering all the bad dates I've had, I'm beginning to think I'm not very good at it. And....I like you, though I'm not doing a very good job of being a 'fun date.' I don't think I've ever been very good at that. I'm always so bad in small talk. Now work, that I'm good at but people...."

"You kiddin'? You spoke so strong at that meetin'. Not sure I get all about that union stuff, but you really sounded powerful up there. I figured you could talk about anythin'."

She took his hands in hers across the table, and squeezed them. "Thank you, Liam, for...believing in me, I guess. For the vote of confidence. You're giving me a lot of votes lately."

"Maybe you just ain't found what to talk about. I'm sure if somebody asked about Smokey, you'd talk their ear off."

The questions were inevitably things such as when will you marry? When are you having children? When are you going to leave that silly little side project and find yourself a respectable man? Her choices were deflect, bicker or clam down, depending on the mood.

Now, obscure historical facts, women's history, the archiving of Schlesinger library, cats in general―she could talk about that for hours.

"Maybe you're right," she said.

"Okay, then. Tell me about your cat," Liam said.

"I got him when I was younger. I was visiting a neighbor's house, and they bred cats. They were going to show the kittens, and I just had to have him, I picked him out right away. So, my mom...."

*

"I can't believe we talked for five hours straight. Doesn't your jaw hurt?" She rubbed at the side of her cheeks. Hers sure did.

"Naw, I got jaws of steel," Liam said. He gave her a big grin.

"Poor Mary had to practically push us out the door to close up," Sophie said. "We never even made it to the movie theater."

She hadn't scared him away. She'd said the M word on the first date, and mentioned her ex-boyfriend, and he was still here. Then again, he'd already proved to be anything but flighty when he came through her door soaked, and with her cat against her chest.

Liam pursed his lips, and paused as the brickwork of Harvard came into view.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from the Wadsworth house ghost," she said.

Liam glanced from side to side, and crossed himself. "You're kiddin' right? I ain't afraid of no ghosts," Liam said.

"Well, you shouldn't be. The Harvard ghosts aren't too bad. They say you can still smell the cigars the poet Amy Lowell smoked to this day, and apparently it's not just a testament on how bad cigars smell. Technically she didn't go to the college, but apparently her ghost really wanted to come back and smoke a lot of cigars. Or so they say," Sophie said.

"Didn't think you'd believe in that sort of stuff," Liam said.

"I don't," Sophie said. "It's probably just a story to make the underclassmen nervous."

"Truth is, this place ain't for someone like me. Even if I was smart, and passed all my grades with flyin' colors, I ain't ever gettin' in there."

"Then I'll have to sneak you in as my date, huh?" she said.

He stammered, all his tough-guy composure lost in that moment. She couldn't help but laugh. For a vigilante, he was pretty cute.

"I mean, great, that'd be great---a date."

"We're already on a date," she said.

"Yeah, but wouldn't that be another? It's got to be closed, due to the ghosts--and stuff," Liam said.

"Let me show you something," she said. She took his hand, even playfully, and led him to the bridge.

The trees had been stripped bare by the wind and cold of the season, but she'd sat and watched them turn red and gold on the bench nearby. Rowers from Harvard would pass through, and more than once, she'd sat in the stands. She wasn't much for sports, but nice biceps were nice biceps.

Faulkner had even set a very important demise at this very bridge.

"I cross this bridge every day," she said.

She'd never shared her favorite bridge with anyone, except Smokey. But for once, she wanted to share a little of herself, like petals opening up towards the sun.

"You can see the Weld Boathouse, and if you step on tip-toe, even a little bit of the Dunster house. Right there, with the clock."

Liam started to climb up the side and pulled himself onto the side.

"Liam, no!"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down with all her might. He crashed into her, and they fell together, slamming into the road. For many moments, she laid in a dazed haze.

"Sophie! Oh my god, Sophie, I didn't think you'd do that--are you okay?"

She reached out and gasped for breath. He cradled her against his chest, but remorseful as he was, he couldn't resist one little remark.

"Are you okay? If I knew I'd leave you breathless, I would've turned down the charm!"

She coughed and gasped as he helped her into a sitting position. His arms were still tight about her.

"Were you worried about me? I can swim just fine. I live down there near the docks."

"It's freezing out here. You might get hypothermia--or--"

Liam smirked. "You worried about me. Almost like you're sweet on me."

She rolled her eyes. "We already had this conversation. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"I wasn't goin' to take a dive. Just showin' off."

"Next time, show off on the ground, where you can't fall to your death," she said flatly.

"I didn't mean to fall on you, honest," Liam said.

"I know, I know," she said. She brushed off the back of her skirt. He reached for her arm, and helped her up.

"Lemme see..." He looked over her arm. "Don't see any cuts, just cute," Liam said.

"I'm going to have a few more bruises, but I think I'm otherwise going to be okay."

She lingered at the bridge, prolonging the night a little more. "There's a bench over there. It's so beautiful in the fall. I hope you get to see it sometime."

"And I hope you can show it to me--next year."

A promise of next year. They were new, just starting, and yet these plans were already being set out. She took his hand for the last blocks, taking in every detail about his family, his world.

Silence never stayed long when Liam Dempsey was around. He instinctively filled it at every turn.

But when her door came, she felt a twinge of disappointment. She wanted to rewind it and experience the thrilling highs of being around him all over again. Talking for five hour so effortlessly that they had to be shooed out the door, the walk home. Sharing little secrets she'd never told anyone, at least not anyone human.

But without the part where she made all the mistakes.

She wanted it to be the next time, and the next, and the next. He held her hand snugly. She was so reluctant to let go.

And to think, just a couple weeks ago, I walked by you every day.

"So...we're here," she said. It came out gushing and awkward. "Um, yeah." She put her hair behind her ears. She could only imagine what the fall had done to how she looked. Frankly, Sophie wouldn't be surprised if there was gravel stuck in her hair.

"Sad to see the night go. It was a real riot, with the way you went on about labor stuff after I learned everythin' about your cat. Still don't understand it, but it's neat."

"Oh, I'll bring a dictionary and my textbooks next time. That way you can understand," Sophie said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"Of course I'd be there," Liam said. "Even if I didn't know a damn thing you were sayin', I'd go just to listen to the sound of your voice. Hey, I've been studyin' on some of my down time. My ma is over the moon about it. She sure likes you now," Liam said.

"Ah--I'm glad to hear it. Don't forget, we've got another study session on---" She quickly checked her purse for the notes. "Wednesday at 4pm."

Liam stuck his hands in his pockets. "So now is that a date, or we still callin' it undefined?" Liam said.

"In my experience, 'study dates' have little dating and even less studying in them," Sophie said.

"True that," Liam said. He checked back down the hall, and looked to her.

"Can I come in for a sec?" Liam said.

"Look, this is very soon and--"

"Geez, I ain't tryin' for anythin'. I gotta take a leak, and wanted to see if ol' Smokey was doing better. I can go water the bushes if you prefer--"

"Oh---Um, go right ahead," she said.

He disappeared down the hall. She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack with a few others, all in shades of charcoal gray or cat. By the time she'd gotten her shoes off, Liam had returned. He sat down on her couch, and reached under the couch for the cat toy she'd fashioned from a piece of willow and string.

"There you are, pally!"

Smokey jumped right up in his lap. He was always a persnickety cat, one who had been hostile to Richard, biting his toes and desecrating his shoes every time he slept over. Cats could be excellent judges of character. They also were known to predict disasters. She petted Smokey's back. Obviously, she should've listened to all the warnings her cat was giving her.

"Hey buddy! I'm glad you're all back to normal." Smokey started to purr as Liam scratched behind his ears. "You're pretty much as good as new, except for that ear. Were you out flirtin' with girls? Aww, you old rascal, I bet you got a girlfriend."

He scratched behind Smokey's ears. Smokey's purring was loud enough for her to hear even across the room. Smokey couldn't have given his approval more clearly if he'd given her a thumbs up. Of course, that would be much easier if he actually had thumbs.

Liam disappeared down the halls.

The biggest part of falling was that thoughts about disasters always filtered through, even in the happy moments. Just because he let her pay sometimes didn't mean one day he wouldn't have flaws. But for the first time, she'd found someone she was willing to wait for the flaws, to endure them, maybe even grow to like them. And even when she reminded herself at how fast it was, the memory of that sleeting night came. Smokey held tight against his chest as Liam looked on the point of complete collapse.

Each kiss filled her with a little more warmth. She saved them up, like little torches through the cold when he wasn't around.

He smiled when he saw her, falling into silence just as he watched her with such affection.

"What?" She laughed.

"Real cuute. Smokey here has good taste in owners. So, see you next date? Not just the study thing, a datedate, maybe even involvin' dates at the market. I mean the fruit--" Liam said.

"A datedate involving dates. That'd be interesting. Um, I'll have to look at my schedule. Just give me a second."

She squinted at the calendar. In the low light, she could just see squares, numbers and times.

"This week is pretty busy, but if you're up for a quick lunch at 2, I'll have at least thirty minutes. And of course, we're meeting at Wednesday at 4. When does your shift end?"

He scratched at his chin. "Well, technically I'm on all day, but the bosses ain't so cruel that they'll tell me I can't even have some lunch."

"All right, two it is."

"I'll miss you until then," Liam said.

"Ah―yes. Goodbye until then," she said.

She busied herself with the lock, her head ducked to hide her embarrassment. Before she could close it, Liam knocked against her door.

"Did you forget something?"

"Just one more kiss for the road?" Liam peeked hopefully through the crack.

She started to undo the mess of locks, many purchased after the time they met. Liam just leaned in and kissed her then, right between the chains, with his hand against the door for balance.

She went to the window, and watched him down the road, until he disappeared past a brick house.
Smokey jumped down from his place on the couch and meowed mournfully at the door.

"I know, I know. Don't worry, Smokey. He'll be back before you know it," she said.

She sat on the floor and pulled Smokey up into her lap.

"Look at that frown. You're just like a big stormy day," she said. When he looked up with such a doleful expression, she pulled him close against her chest.

"I know, I miss him too. I'm not supposed to say that, but I do. I got completely flustered there, and choked. It's silly, isn't it? I just met him a little while ago, but everything has changed."

In her disaster-vision, she tried to imagine a life without ever meeting him. She couldn't bear this dark world. Smokey wouldn't be there―hell, she'd probably be dead.

For years, her day would end with telling her closest friend everything that had happened. But, for the first time, she was telling her secrets. Not even Richard, not even her friends had seen this side of her. But a boy from Southie had. Smokey crawled up into her lap. She absently scratched at his neck.

"He'll be back soon, and I'll be counting down the hours until then. But that's my secret, so don't tell, okay?"

As usual, Smokey kept her secrets.

***

Notes:
He told me I had an 'Irish whisper.' I'd heard Ma say that
about people who thought they were telling a secret but couldn't
keep their voices down. The Irish made fun of each other for not
being able to keep secrets, and for talking too loud when they
shouldn't.
-All Souls: A Southie Family tale by Michael Patrick Macdonald

All the boys had homemade tattoos, done with a sewing needle
and green ink. Some had a shamrock outline and ‘‘Irish Power’’ on
their arm. On some afternoons you’d see teenagers sitting on curbs
tattooing a cross onto each other’s middle fingers, and a dot onto
their wrists. The ‘‘Southie dot’’ identified you as okay within the
neighborhood but would get you into trouble if you ever ventured
into downtown Boston, where everyone said there were loads of
blacks looking for fights, and liberals who branded Southie kids as
thieves, punks, or racists. Most people in my neighborhood didn’t
have any reason to go downtown anyway, except to steal bikes from
college students or to shoplift, none of which ever was to be done
within the neighborhood. Those were the rules. And if you ever
ended up in jail, your Southie dot would make you a target among
the black inmates. But everyone went ahead and did the Southie dot
anyway, to prove their loyalty to the neighborhood, regardless of
the consequences in the outside world.
-All Souls: A Southie Family tale by Michael Patrick Macdonald