once you cross the line will you be satisfied?

[skepticgirl_1]

In defense of me, this wasn't really my fault.

I had been minding my own business entirely when I saw the kid steal the old lady's purse. It was gross in how basic and immoral it was, just shoving her aside and yanking the purse right off her arm. She was well dressed, clearly rich, but frail and holding tight to one of those yappy lap dogs so she couldn't fight back. Someone had to fight back for her.

So I ran after the boy. I had no choice.

He was far faster than I thought any ten year old kid should be, but thanks to his bright orange hair, I saw him duck into what turned out to be a seedy looking bar from a block away. Kids should not be in bars and no one should be in a bar that looked this dark even in bright afternoon sun. So I went in through the back door, which had been left open to take in a delivery, and made my way stealthily to the main room. There was only one guy inventorying things in the back, so that had been pretty easy, too.

The fact that this was a gang den was completely unknown to me, so the fact that I had wandered into a gang den shouldn't be held against me. I was ignorant as to what was going on. But when I saw tiny bags of white powder being passed around, I knew I had a story. And that I had to call the cops, but first I had a story. I crouched behind the bar and listened to as many of the details as I could, needing to get all the information for the story. It was only when I had stopped to text Jake to give him a heads up to the situation that I got noticed.

A lot of mace and a police raid later, I stood outside the bar, watching triumphantly as several scowling men were being escorted, hands cuffed behind their backs, into police squad cars. I was already dreaming up a headline and hoping no employed reporter beat me to it.

Comments

[gayest_crew]

"Please, you would have been fine," Jake said confidently. "Because you know what's worse than being in a home like that? Being in jail where you couldn't get into the type of trouble I know you love to get into. It would have been four walls, three meals a day and my ugly face staring you sternly. And yes, I can be stern."

He knew what his face looked like. He knew he looked young, innocent, untouched but he'd learned from his father and his father had the face of someone who was permanently sucking a lemon. Jake had been disappointed enough by his dad that he was well versed in being upset and angry.

Looking over, Jake watched a bunch of colleagues working the scene and shook his head. "Nah. I wasn't even supposed to be here. I was questioning some wanker when I looked at your text. Wasn't even on the call but I came anyway."

[skepticgirl_1]

I cocked an eyebrow up at his assertion that he could be stern, smiling playfully all the while. "I'll believe it when I see it," I said, ignoring the fact that he had just finished giving me a scolding that my father would have approved up. But my father would have added in the threat of military school and taking away all that I held dear. Until I saw action like that coming from Jake, I wouldn't call him stern.

"Aw, you came all the way down here just for me?" I said. But it was a weak tease. My expression was already softening as I said it. Perhaps I hadn't intended to get into trouble, and perhaps I still would insist that I wasn't responsible for what had happened, but I had upset Jake and he really, truly cared.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, you know," I said quietly.

[gayest_crew]

"Just -- try and avoid drug dens," Jake said with a shake of his head. He didn't think there were many of those in Darrow but the fact that there was one meant there could be another one somewhere that the cops didn't know about. If there was another, she'd probably find it without meaning it and he'd rather her not just waltz into one if she could help.

"You got lucky this time and you were brave but these kinds of things are really dangerous and they probably won't discriminate between a teenager and an adult, you know," Jake told her, watching a few officers drag a few stragglers out of the building.

"I'm not going to tell you to not do what you love to do but gotta pick your battles, mate," Jake told her. "Or else you're gonna end up in the hospital."

Or worse. He didn't want to think about 'or worse'.

[skepticgirl_1]

"Okay, I can try to avoid drug dens," I promised. I was glad that Jake had inserted that "try" for me, without me having to sneak it into my sentence. I could certainly, always try to avoid drug dens -- and a whole lot of other dens of inequity -- but I wouldn't always succeed.

"And I promise to try to pick my battles." That was a little harder, especially considering the fact that I thought this battle was pretty well picked. It had started off as something totally reasonable and turned into something that needed to be done. Maybe I might have slipped out earlier, but I felt that what I heard and could give to the cops -- and any readers -- was worthwhile.

"But in the meanwhile, let's get some coffee? And talk about stuff."