Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does

Title: Basic Decorum

Summary: Tim Shepard is too mean to play well with nice girls, but somehow, he can't bring himself to care about that.

Prologue

There ain't much to see from the back porch at Bucks. A tiny sparse yard that overlooks a few other dumpy houses, and beyond that a few industrial buildings with constantly smoking chimneys. Occasionally, a couple that lives in one of the other houses will get into some blow-out fight, and if anyone is out back they'll give a shout and people will swarm the yard and throw their own jeers in, but today it's silent.

Tim goes out to smoke, because he only smokes when he needs to think and you can't do that inside anyways. He had come that night because Margret Sullivan, this chick he'd been trying to get with for a week or so now, was supposed to be there. She was, but so was Ned Quill, a pal of his, who told him some unfortunate news concerning the RKs taking about twenty bucks worth of beer from this shop on a corner that they had clearly agreed was the Shepard's turf. And as hot as Margret Sullivan was in her tight red dress and pumps that made her legs look about a mile long, he had bigger fish to fry.

Now, normally, he wouldn't be too bothered by news like that. Find out who did it, beat the ever loving shit out of them, and forget the whole deal. But things with the RKs had been weird the past few weeks. Now, the Shepard gang and the RKs weren't friends, not by any means, but they had an understanding and got along well enough, except for a few fights over idiotic shit. But lately they'd been testing things. Getting close to the border, flirting with girls they knew were taken, throwing out insults casually. And now this.

Tim wasn't stupid. Something was up, and he wasn't going to walk into an open trap. If they were trying to pick a fight, he wanted to know why before he made a dumb choice.

But it wasn't like he could let that slide. Then they'd think he was giving up, and he never went down without a fight. So he's in a pretty tight spot, since he has to retaliate but has to be careful about how to go about it.

So he needs a smoke.

He's just figuring out a scheme when the door slides open and a girl steps out. He glances up to her, then back out over the yard. She's small, with light brown hair and big brown eyes. She's pretty pale. Her figure isn't anything worth taking notice of her clothing for.

She sort of nods at him and then walks as far down the porch as possible, placing her palms on the rail, leaning over, and throwing up.

It's pretty disgusting.

And distracting.

And it takes a while.

When she's done, she looks up and blushed bright pink. He tries not to look disgusted.

"It's not that I'm drunk," she says in this small, sweet voice. She's clearly embarrassed, be it because she puked or because of what he might attribute it to.

"I'm not judging."

"Oh. Well. Anyways- I'm not drunk. I'm just sick."

"If you say so."

"I do."

There's a long moment of silence. She reapplies her lipstick- it's this baby pink color that, and then he notices her smeared mascara.

"Are you crying?"

Tim doesn't do crying girls. Unless it's Angela, in which case it's a different story. But as a general rule, no crying.

"What? no."

A pause.

"Maybe."

Another pause.

"So what if I am?"

"I was just asking."

"Well, please don't."

He shrugs.

"Fine by me."

They stand there in silence. He's smoking, she's crying. A bit loudly. Finally, he asks.

"Look, do you need some water or something? Because all I've got is a beer."

She shakes her head.

"I don't drink, but thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"I really wasn't drunk. I'm just- I'm just not feeling to well."

Looking past the streaked mascara, he notices she's actually pretty. Not stunning or hot or anything like Margret Sullivan, but really damn pretty.

"But you came to Bucks?" it's only sort of a question. He doesn't care if she tells him or not. But the way he sees it, she's not leaving soon and he can't quite think with her crying and what not, so he might as well see what he can make of this.

"I wasn't going to, on account of the whole, you know-" she gestures to the vomit. "That's why I told Gerry, my boyfriend, well, my ex boyfriend, I guess- anyhow, that's why I told him he could go without me."

Tim knows where this story ends now, but she's not crying when she's talking, so he figured he'll let her finish.

"But I felt rotten about ditching him to go alone to a party, so I caught a ride with another friend of mine." her lip quivers then, and her next sentence is all warbling. "But I guess he wasn't as alone as I though..."

She hiccups.

"Sounds like an ass. I don't see why you're crying over that sort of fucker."

Angela once reprimanded him on his lack of empathy. He figures she would throw a fit if she saw him now. Angela is real mean when she wants to be, but she usually only wants to be when she's got a personal stake in something. She was never catty to a crying stranger.

"Well- Well, see, it's just that I dated him for a year, and he just cheated like that..."

"From the way you tell the story, I don't figure it was just like that. Unless it was the first time you let him go to a party by himself."

From her expression, that was not the right thing to say.

"Look," he corrects, because even though she doesn't seem like the loud type, he doesn't want to risk getting an earful. It ain't worth the trouble, "All I'm saying is that you're pretty cute, and you seem sweet enough, so don't waste your breath crying over a dick who's gonna cheat with the first thing with breasts and long legs he sees."

He tries to sound sincere. It's true, a girl like her can probably score some nice guy who will treat her right. But being one of those guys he's warning her against makes it hard not so roll his eyes when he spouts the same shit he heard Angela blab about on the phone.

For whatever reason, this makes the girl smile a bit through her tears.

"Thanks. Really." she heads towards the porch door, but right before she heads in, she turns back to him and smiles. "You're a pretty nice guy, you know?" and then she's gone.

Tim just stands there, eyebrows raised, smirking. Then he turns back so he's looking out from the porch, and wonders whose nose he has to break to keep things from escalating before he figures this RK shit out.

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