undergrounds | gonna drink bacardi like it's yo birthday [nancy's 20]

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gonna drink bacardi like it's yo birthday [nancy's 20]

Twenty. Gods, Nancy could hardly believe it. She didn't expect to still be here for this day, truth be told. She knew the sort of life she lived, and the sorts of people she associated with. But against all odds, here she was. Twenty-years-old by Fagin's count, and as wonderful as that was...

It was odd. She'd been a teenager for so long, and now she was officially a twenty-something. An adult, for real this time, not like when she'd turned eighteen.

It didn't exactly help that Charley Bates had decided it was a great idea to call her 'old'. She'd hit the back of his head for that, refusing to consider herself old. She was still so young, at least in comparison to those she spent most of her time around, people that were centuries older than her.

This, of course, caused her some angst. She hadn't particularly wanted to celebrate her birthday. It wasn't anything to be glad about. She was, as she realized, three years physically older than Cooper. And that just felt... weird. She knew, mentally, he was far older than she was. And as he always said she was stuck with him until she was old and grey, but...

Would he still love her, then, she wanted to know? How weird would it be, an haggard old woman next to this cute seventeen-year-old kid. A chill ran up her spine when she thought about it, comparing the wretch that Fagin was to her hypothetical-old-woman-self.

If she lived that long.

Still, people want to celebrate with her. Eames, wonderful Eames, had surprised her with tickets to go see a show on the West End, and taken her out to an amazing restaurant. She'd even brought cake over to the boys', knowing a few of them had saved up to get her something. Or, likely, stole it. But she didn't reach out, not really. If you were lucky enough to know it was her birthday, however, she'd happily entertain any and all plans. There was no need to be rude, after all.

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Nancy's 20 aww yiss.
Uhm, this is an open post. A few starters in the comments. Want something specific? Please let me know!

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He nods, because he can't disagree with her logic. The lads didn't like Nancy not being around as often, they were selfish like that. That wasn't to say the Dodger didn't like that she wasn't around, but he were dealing with it. He always did.

"Eh, same as always with Fagin," the Dodger responded with an easy shrug of his shoulders. "We're either not bringin' in enough, or we're his perfect kids, couldn't ask for better."

Damn it, damn it, damn it. She presses her lips together and takes a drink of her beer.

"Yeah? Sounds like every day with him." She still saw him, still gave him a good portion of her earnings. That always got her an earful. "Can't say I miss him."

"Yeah, well, you know how he is," he said, tapping the side of the bottle. There was a frown on his face, a clear sign he was deep in thought about something that he really didn't want to bring up. He sighed, he couldn't avoid it.

"Nance, you do know it's a bad idea to bring round yer new fancy man, right?" he said. "Not just cause of what the lads might say, but ... who they'd be encouraged to say it to."

Her brow furrows, and she closes her eyes. God damn it. God fucking damn it, how could she forget. She'd been dealing with Fagin for twenty years now, of course he'd find a way to tell Bill. To ruin everything she'd been working on building for herself.

She loved Bill. Always had, always would, but he wasn't here right now.

But they all knew how it would end. And she wanted to savor this while it lasted.

"He's locked up. He can't do nothing." But he would when he got out. And with time to stew, his anger would be a hair trigger.

"He don't have to do anythin' right now," the Dodger found himself stressing the words. "But the fear of 'im... well, that's sent better people running out of town, you know that." They all knew how dangerous Sikes' temper was, and that it would be worse for being locked up all this time.

"But if I don't tell you, then Fagin'll use it. And, nah, I ain't for that."

"better people ain't me," is her response, but he's right. Fagin had always kept her on a tight leash. Blackmail and careful manipulations kept everyone at his side.

"He doesn't scare me. He never has." There were moments when she'd been terrified of him. But she'd been younger, twelve.

But the thought of his anger when she saw him again- it'd been a long time, but she knew how hard his fists could be.

"An' I ain't saying you got to get rid of the fancy man, neither," he added quickly. "He makes you happy an', well, you deserve to be happy, Nance." There's a quick flash, the sincereity of the Artful Dodger never stays around for long. It's quick, and it's gone as soon as it arrived, trying to work out what they can or can't do about this situation.

"You can't bring him 'round the den, that's signin' away any chance you've got here." He's speaking out loud as his thoughts come together. There has to be a way for Nancy to stay happy, but keep the old devil from using her happiness as a way of baiting the wolf.

She'll have to get rid of him eventually. She knew that, logically. But dealing with it, accepting it, was so much harder than she wanted to deal with right now.

"I don't have much of a chance at all, do I?" She says, and abandons the beer in favor of something stronger. She turns around, pulling out a bottle of gin from the cabinet. Bitterly, she pours it and quickly follows up with a drink. Much, much better.

"I want him to meet you all. But I can't." Another part of her life she had to hide away.

"Don't say can't." He's standing, starting to wander around the room with his hands in his pockets, looking at the stuff without seeing it as he thinks. "There's always a way to stop the ol' crooks fun, we just ain't seein' it yet."

"I'd have to ask, but you lot are always welcome here." But if they all came, Fagin would know.

"The devil's got ways of knowing everything." Secrets, in the den, were hard.

"He's got eyes an' ears all over the city, Nance," the Dodger replies evenly. "You ain't keepin' it from him, you just got to know how to use it so you got the power an' he don't."

She could have laughed.

"He'll always have the power, won't he, though?" That's how he operated. Everything was about control for the old man.

She pauses, only to glance towards the front door. "Cooper doesn't know, you know."

There was only a shrug in response to the question about Fagin. The answer was obvious, they both already knew it, but still... A shrug was the best way to respond, even if it wasn't the most accurate. And then his eyes narrowed in confusion

"...An' why ain't you told him yet?"

"It hasn't come up," Is Nancy's easy response. it hasn't. and she doesn't want to volunteer that information. Especially knowing Cooper has his own temper, and Bill is currently a chained wold.

A slight nod.

"An' when it does?"

She frowns, her lips pursing.

"It won't come up."

To that, the Dodger could do nothing but stare. Did she honestly think it wouldn't come up, ever? Seemed like chancing fate to think that, but what did he know? An', by the by, couldn't this new guy - Cooper - get suspicious at how little he knew of her past?

He knew enough of her past to know he shouldn't know more. that the information doesn't come easy because it's hard to part with at all.

"It won't," she says. "we don't talk about other love interests."

"By his choosin' or by yours?" It's genuinely asked in innocence. He's curious, nothing more.

"Both. he knows my job. He's over a hundred. There's no point to it." And she doesn't want to tell him about Bill and all that entailed.

It was hard to tell someone you'd been abused.

"...Huh. I figured he was still in the double digits," he gives a shrug as if to suggest learning something new. For some reason he didn't associate Cooper with being over a hundred, but who knew why.

And that, he knew all too well

"Most people do." Probably because he looked seventeen. "But he's pretty old." She never asked for an exact number. at this point, it didn't matter.

"I want you to give him a chance."

"We'd try, Nance, you know that," speaking not just for himself, but all the lads. He was often chosen as speaker for all of them, there was no real difference in him doing it here.

"I believe you." But they likely wouldn't get to meet him until they could figure this out.

"I think you two will get along, at least." Nancy takes the hat off, setting it with the gloves. "You're a good kid, Dodger. I don't think you hear it enough."

"Who wants to be good?" It's cheeky, and he knows it, but it's something he'd attest to. Good is boring, it's much more fun being artful.

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