Author`s Note: Thanks for all the reviews and tips guys! They really help me and I want this story to be the best it can be. Unfortunately, school is starting n just so you know, no matter how long it takes for me to post a chapter, I have full intentions of finishing this story, trust me- I`ll tell you if I want to stop. I apologize for this being so short n really not that good. but I just wanted to get something out. I`ll try to update sometime this weekend. Also, I put a poll up on our profile so vote if you get a chance.

Here, Here, and Here

Chapter 6

An Eyeful

When I was younger, my parents used to tell me to always watch out for strangers. That "minding my surroundings" was important if I ever wanted to get across the street alive, and staying calm was best in tough situations. Of course, like the wonderful child I was, these words fell of deaf ears.

Perhaps that was the reason I reacted the way I did when America`s most notorious gangster somehow squeezed his way into my time period, and more specifically, my house. But to be fair, I reason, how do most people behave when someone who has been dead for over 60 years suddenly pops up, fully alive and functional? I am still trying to convince myself it`s a bad dream or a prank but that`s just wishful thinking on my part. And now, here I am, leaning against a dresser to support my consciousness, and avoiding eye contact with the only other human being I am currently aware of.

I continue to stair into space as the air in the room grows quiet and tense. A small part of me hopes Capone will speak up soon; I hate awkward silences but this hast to be the worst of them all. Gulping with a strained throat, I allow my eyes one glance in his direction and am slightly relieved that I`m not the only one who seems to be a bit confused.

A fazed look of concern has made itself at home on Capone`s face, and I start to wonder how long we had been doing nothing like this. If someone doesn`t say something in the next minute, I think I`ll explode. A few feet away, I hear the crinkling of fabric. I look over to see Capone has settled into my couch (which doubled as my bed), and was thoughtfully rubbing his temples. He removes his hand from his face some moments later and it appears as if he is opening his mouth to speak. Of course, because this is my life and I`m not expecting any less, my phone chirps and buzzes in my pocket just then. The noise signals I have a new text message and at the same time interrupts Capone. He looks around for the source of the sound, while I hold the screen up to my face to see who was trying to reach me. I see Riley had sent me a message and open it.

hey i heard what happened today. you ok? devin wants to know if we`re still gonna meet on wednesday.

What? How could he have known about Capone and- Oh. I realize he`s referring to the other thing (for my sake, I don`t want to bring the memory back up). I smile slightly at his concern and the timing of text. Before I could contemplate sending a reply, I hear a throat clear and direct my attention to the only possible source.

I gulp down the lump that was forming in my air way and manage a shaky, "Yes?"

"If you`re done screwin` around with" -he gestures towards my phone, and I slowly put it back into my pocket- "uh, that. Now, what day did ya say it was?"

"Monday? The first of August? 2010?" I really hope he don`t take this too hard. I think.

Capone looks at me funny for a moment before cracking a slight smile. He laughs, or maybe snorts was a better word- it`s a bit unnerving either way- and nods his head as if in understanding.

"You got a sense of humor, I like that." Capone smirks again, now condescendingly. "But, we did have a deal-"

"I`m not jokin` around here." I state with as much honesty I can manage. He ignores me, and persists,

"Look kid, I don't know how much they`re paying you but-"

"No one is paying me anythin`, what are you talkin` about?" I narrow my eyes at him, getting irritated and Capone does the same (apparently, he`s not taken a liking to me interrupting him). This guy`s obviously not going to take my word for it. I think. And he`s still stuck on the idea that I`m working for someone. I could just show him... Seeing no other option, I point towards my window. "Just see for yourself if you don`t believe me."

Capone returns my suggestion with a puzzled glance, and looks from me, to the window, and back to me. When I don`t move my pointing hand, he sighs and crosses the space between him and the window. After pulling up the shudders for him, I situate myself awkwardly against the wall next to the sill and wait for a reaction. A few minutes of anxious silence pass and I decide to take a look at what Capone was seeing.

Surrounding my second story room, were other buildings, many similar to mine. A wide range of pedestrians dot the sidewalks below. I can see parents trying to keep their kids in line, couples holding hands, runners enjoying the weather and I don`t blame them; it`s perfect outside. It`s one of those warm spring days, the kind that you wish for all winter and don`t want to waste once they arrive, but I highly doubt Capone was interested in the pleasant climate change. I search for something else that might have caught his interest and settle on the impressive cars streaking by. Some are glossy and gaudy, others appear to have seen better days, and a few rest somewhere in between. I watch as one from the first group flies across the asphalt like a bat out of hell, while another automobile chugs along blasting music so loud it rattles the glass pane below Capone`s finger tips. Turning my head from the street below to him I think, Must be getting quite an eyeful. As if to prove my point, Capone mumbles something crude but the words are hidden under his breath.

"Whatdidya say?" I ask, keeping my voice softer on purpose. Truth be told, I`m a bit worried about his reaction. Instead of answering, he merely blinks a few times, and I pose another (oddly polite) question, "Can I uh, get ya anythin` Chief?"

It seems to take a lot for Capone to separate his stare from the window, but he eventually does.

"A drink." He grumbles after choking out a nervous laugh. I raise my eyebrows, but comply. After all, I`m not one to deny the demands of mob bosses.

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