Bleh… Yellow x Brock romance makes me sick… *Takes deep breaths*

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I owned pokemon, I wouldn’t be writing fanfiction, now would I be? *Shrugs* Well, Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics and a whole lot of other people, so don’t sue me. Oh yes, and West Side Story is a motion picture and I do have the script and the DVD but I don’t own it either… but I will be using some song lyrics from it. Okay, I’m done.

Notes: Based on West Side Story. Manga characters, not anime, except for maybe Brock and Misty… ehehehe…!

Warnings: Drugs, drinking, smoking, gang violence, crude language, sexual overtones

Chapter 5

 

            Twelve rolled around. The Jets looked up as the Sharks entered. The atmosphere’s temperature immediately began to drop, electricity crackled in the air between them. Giovanni glared at Red, who glared back.

            Red and Lance slid into place at a table. Giovanni and Surge, his lieutenant, sat down on the other side of the table.

            “So, let’s get down to business. Cokes all around.”

            The candy storeowner looked at the boys helplessly. “You don’t have to-.”

            “Look.” Red said, slapping a twenty on the table. “Cokes. Now. And please stay out of our way if you don’t want to get hurt.”

            The old man – Professor Elm – sighed.

            Why oh why had he ever moved here?

            The West Side had always been dangerous but at least nothing had ever happened to his store. It was considered neutral, although it was in ‘Jet territory’…

            He looked around at the crowd. As long as Red kept an eye on Gold and didn’t let him wreck everything, he’d be fine… they really were good customers, cigarettes, candy, comic books, and sodas… he made a good income here.

            But that didn’t mean Elm had to like the violence that went around.

            He sighed, passed out the Cokes, and then took a position of safety behind the counter… he hoped they didn’t wreck his piano…

            Elm wondered briefly where Brock had run off. Probably chasing some girl…

            Oh, that boy had been so reliable for the last three months too – he’d been afraid to hire the boy at first, considering his reputation, but now... What had happened?

            Actually, he didn’t want to know. He’d seen Brock talking to Bruno, and he knew that the boy wasn’t really much good. He was a muscleman with no brains, really, hence why he stuck with his gang. He probably wouldn’t survive on his own.

            Bugsy flipped another page in his comic, but kept his ears peeled…

            Silver lounged against the doorframe, keeping a lookout in case the police showed up… he glanced away as Misty shoved her way out.

            Apparently she wasn’t too happy with Red not letting her join the gang…

            When would the girl get the point that no one wanted her? She couldn’t fight, she dressed ugly, and she was so scrawny that any of them could snap her neck, arm, waist, or leg without any effort. Ah well…

            Fighting wasn’t for the girls, not really.

            Even Lorelei and Clair and Blue knew when to get out of the way. They were supporters, but not the actual fighters.

            Ever group needs support…

 

            “So.” Giovanni said.

            “We settle everything in one all-out rumble.”  Red said calmly. “Name your terms. You’ve crossed the line one too many times.”

            “Oh yeah?”

            “Who broke Bugsy’s wrist this afternoon?” Red demanded.

            “Who jumped me the day I moved here?”

            “Who asked you to move here?!” Gold cut in.

            “You faggot!”

            “You Spic!”

            “You dirty son of a prostitute!”

            Gold was on the verge of jumping on Giovanni when Lance grabbed him with a glare. “Cool it.”

            Gold scowled.

           

            “So…” Giovanni said. “Back to business.”

            “Time?”

            “Tomorrow.”

            “Deal.” Red said. “Location?”

            “The park.”

            Red glanced at Lance, whose eyes were closed, but his fingers twitched briefly on the table. As Red was holding his hand, he caught it. “No. The river.”

            Surge shook his head. Not advantageous for us…

            “Underneath the highway. The underpass.” Giovanni said firmly.

            “Agreed.” Red stuck out his other hand – the right one, in case anyone is interested. They shook on it.

            So the time and location were decided. Now for… well, that left the choice of weapons.

 

            “So! Weapons!” Gold said excitedly. He received another glare, but even his natural twitchiness couldn’t stand up for more than a second before combusting.

            Gold was twitchy.

            “Weapons…” Red purred, leaning over the table. “What do you think, Giovanni?”

            “You challenged us. Your call.”

            “What? You don’t want to call? Too chicken?”

            Giovanni narrowed his eyes. “Hm.”

            “Well…”

            “Rocks.”

            Red twitched. “Belts.” At least that way they could fight at a slightly more distance… and he liked distance, thank you very much.

            “Bricks.”

            “Pipes.” Pipe in this context means a section of lead pipe, potentially appropriated from the unsuspecting city streets.

            “Bats.”

            “Chains.”

            “Bottles, knives, guns!” Brock said as he entered, frowning. “What’s wrong with you? Are you afraid to slug it out? Chickens! I bet that if I hadn’t interfered, you’d use your pokemon! Chickens!”
           

            “Are you calling us chicken?” Gold fumed.

            Lance’s fingers glittered with silver as he glared at Brock. “You’re late.”

            Red winced slightly – those nails were sharp. “Lance!” He hissed in a whisper, then louder to Brock. “Brock, go sit with the rest of the gang. You’re not leader anymore. And of course we’ll fight it out ourselves!”

            “Look, we can deal this all out in a fair fight. That would stop needless fighting – no need for a full rumble.” Brock said, moving closer to Giovanni and ignoring Red completely. Red’s eyes began to glare…

            “Fair fight, eh?” Giovanni stared Brock down.

            “Yes.”

            “Agreed.”

            “Now wait a second, I’m the leader.” Red said, cutting off the other Jets protesting about one on one not being fair. He held out his hand to Giovanni. “Deal.”

            “I will enjoy that.” Giovanni said, as he shook hands with Red. He turned back to Brock. “When I am through with you, you will look like a plucked chicken.”

            “Excuse me,” Red said, “But your best versus our best… and we get to pick him.”

            He clapped Lance on the back. The lieutenant stood up, golden eyes cold.

            “What? But I thought I was fighting him!” Giovanni pointed to Brock, annoyed. He wanted to get the pretty eyeless boy for messing with his sister!

            “Sorry, we shook on it.” Red grinned.

            Lance smirked.

            Giovanni was about to say more when a warning whistle came from Silver. The gangs immediately intermingled, and when Agatha came in, there was nothing out of the ordinary… nothing suspicious, but…

            There was no more time to plan either… no changes could be made now…

 

End Chapter

Completed 8/13/05

Okay, this chapter’s shorter… oh well. *Shrug* the last one was long

Lance: So now…

Phantomness: According to the musical, you won’t die dear.

Lance: Sarcastically and that comforts me how?

Hmm… how can they dance in those tight jeans? Oh well…

And why does Ice wear White Jeans that somehow manage to stay white despite all the brawling? I’m amazed…