Okay, no time to chat, but I'm deciding to do an 100-oneshots challenge for my #1 OTP: JAYA!

This first one was inspired by a drawing I entered into my local county fair. It's a 1940s AU.

Welp, gotta go, and I hope you enjoy!

1. Something Else

Nya glanced around the club with some impatience and anxiety. "C'mon Kai, where are you?" she muttered, pushing her way through the crowd of club frequenters in search of her older brother.

In the bustle of the club, she noticed a man accidentally drop his walking stick in his hurry to join several youths lounging at the bar. It was kicked and rolled about on the floor by the feet of oblivious patrons until it spun to a stop at her own feet.

Before it could be knocked away again, Nya quickly picked it up and looked around, amber-brown eyes searching for its owner. Automatically they glanced toward the bar, and she recognized the tan trench-coated gent whom she'd seen holding it, although she couldn't make his face out very well.

He was in an apparent argument with one of his compatriots, who was swaying from side to side in his seat. The sober youth covered his nose and snapped something at the obviously drunk man, and another fellow made some snide comment that the young man seemingly took personally, for he used his free hand to make a rude gesture back at the speaker. The smart alec smirked, catching sight of Nya clutching the walking stick, and thumbed at her, saying something to the young man that made the visible part of his face burn red with either embarrassment or anger. With one final retort, the young man stalked off, perhaps to cool down, or perhaps to make his exit from the establishment.

The smart alec wolf-whistled at Nya, and with a disgusted look, she turned on her heel and walked toward the door, preparing to leave. Since Kai hadn't taken the trouble to alert her of his presence, she figured she'd better go home.

But her hands wrapped tighter around the cane, reminding her of its presence. Well, I suppose I'd better return this first, she thought. I hope its owner won't be in a sour mood, judging by the outcome of that debate.

Jay kicked cigar ash with his foot, taking one hand from his coat pocket to take the cigarette from his mouth and blow a small puff of smoke. He wondered why on earth he came to clubs like these: they were just hangouts for lazy no-goods who wanted to squander what little money they could scavenge on drinks and card games. Not at all his type of place.

Then he felt a slender finger politely tap his shoulder. "Excuse me?" Without turning around, his eyes caught a glimpse of black-and-white saddle shoes over short white socks - the mark of a bobby soxer, although the voice seemed older than that of an adolescent girl. "I think you dropped this?" the girl continued.

Jay allowed himself to turn around, and as his eyes fell on the girl standing behind him, he remembered why he frequented these clubs. Why hello there, Miss Smith, he thought, casually extinguishing his cigarette and using his now free hand to tilt his fedora brim just out of his eyes.

He knew this girl very well, although she didn't know him. Her older brother had told him some information about her, but that wasn't how he gained most of his knowledge of Nya Smith. He appeared in many forms to her: the young waiter at her favorite cafe, the wounded soldier who visited the city park on quiet afternoons and often spoke to her. . .

Jay was a master of disguise, not even giving the object of his affections the slightest hint that his several alter egos were the same person, or that none of them actually existed. He'd been meaning to reveal his true identity eventually, but at the right time. When he was recovering from an argument with those jerks who called themselves his pals wasn't exactly his idea of perfect timing. But hey, might as well take advantage of the moment while he still had it. . . especially since the young lady in question was the most beautiful girl he had seen this side of the Ignacia River.

Turning towards her, the young gent's expression changed. Taking the cigarette from his mouth and pinching out the flame, he flashed Nya a brilliant smile that brought a sudden surge of warmth to her cheeks. With one hand he casually tilted his white blue-banded fedora at a jaunty angle, revealing perfectly tousled auburn hair. His blue eyes sparkled mischievously at her, and added with his teasing smirk, his alluring appearance made Nya blush furiously.

Instead of taking the cane from her, he placed his smooth hand over her slender one still clutching the end of the walking stick. His touch, though unexpected, was strangely pleasing to the young girl. It felt . . . familiar, though she could not guess for the life of her why it felt so. He was a complete stranger to her.

"What's a lovely young girl like you doing in a joint like this?" he inquired quietly, his eyes locking on hers. His tone was flirtatious without trying, inviting without effort.

"I─I─I'm just here to meet my brother," Nya stammered, self-consciously turning away from the young man's gaze.

"Your brother, you say?" His soft fingers gently held her chin as he turned her face back towards him. The way he studied her with his intense sea-blue irises, so brazenly admiring her, made her partially feel like slapping him for his cheeky way of addressing her, but she couldn't help also enjoying the attention from this handsome youth. "He wouldn't happen to be Kai Smith, would he?"

"He is─how did you know that?" Nya was startled by what she thought was the young man's educated guess.

He smiled mysteriously at her, reviving the fire gently licking her cheeks. "I have my ways," was his cryptic response. "I think he's got his hands pretty full with that red-headed girlfriend of his. He won't find you in this dirty mess until it's too late."

"I see what you mean," Nya replied, noticing the several club patrons who were eyeballing her with dangerous interest. "It's probably best if I go home."

"You wouldn't mind an escort, would you?"

Nya was surprised by his offer. Why was he interested in escorting her? Why was he interested in her to begin with? But suspicions aside, she couldn't resist a feeling of being flattered by the proposal, especially coming from this good-looking young gent. And since Kai wasn't around. . . She was feeling a little rebellious tonight. But he wasn't going to win her that easily. . .

"Are you sure?" she replied, returning his cocky smirk. "It looked like you were having some fun with those buddies over there."

"Nah, those guys are a bunch of sleazers," answered the youth, rolling his eyes. "Clubs aren't really any fun unless you've got a lady friend with you, and I haven't had the luck to meet that girl who's meant for me. . ." His sapphire irises danced like the couples moving across the floor in a wild and lively Charleston.

Hmm. . . he could be honest if he wanted to . . . all right. "Then let's see if you know where I live," she replied, calmly lacing her arm through the crook of his elbow and handing him his cane back. "You seem to know a bit about me, but let's make sure you're not just a lucky guesser."

Jay smiled at Nya's remark as he accepted his walking stick. Her feisty attitude was one reason he was so attracted to her. "I'll be most happy to show you I'm not," he replied, gently guiding her through the door and out onto the moonlit street. While we have time to talk, I may as well drop a few golden apples along the way. . .

His "golden apples" were little tidbits of information about himself that he hoped would steer her mind clear of any suspicion of his other identities.

On the way back to the apartment she and her brother shared, Nya learned several things about her dapper escort, things that made her wonder. . . He was from a well-to-do family who earned their fortune from creating helpful household and business-type inventions, he had first encountered her brother at a society party from a few years back, and he was twenty-one years old.

When she inquired what his profession was, for the first time, he betrayed a little anxiety. He recomposed himself quickly, and replied he was going to follow in his parents' footsteps and help out in their family business. "Inventing is the one thing I feel keeps me from going completely insane in this already crazy world," he explained.

Why the concerned pause? Nya wondered. She was also puzzling over the fact that he hadn't mentioned his name once in the conversation, then figured she would tell her eventually. He didn't strike her as the type who would be insecure about his name, and especially since he didn't once take his eyes off her the entire walk, she hoped that meant he would want to see her again.

Every so often he would stop, turn his handsome face towards her, and gently stroke her cheek with his soft fingertips, giving her his enchanting alabaster smile that she felt was meant especially for her. And his touch . . . why did it feel so . . . different?

"I believe this is our stop." Jay gestured toward the red-brick building of Ozaizuko Apartments.

Nya looked mildly impressed. "So you're obviously not a lucky guesser," she said, crossing her arms and allowing a smile that almost made Jay go weak in the knees to curve her ruby-red lips. She took a few steps up the stairs to the door, then turned around to face him. "Thank you for seeing me home," she said. "It was very thoughtful of you to offer."

"Anything I can do for a sweet girl like you, Miss Smith," Jay replied, smiling up at her. Suddenly, his heartbeat sped up and his limbs seemed to move on their own. Before he knew what was happening, he had his arms wrapped around Nya's waist and pressing his lips to hers. What was he doing? He hadn't wanted to do this! Not yet! Oh, yes, you did, a small part of his mind replied cheekily, savoring the feeling of Nya's warm soft lips against his own, enjoying her wonderful scent of cinnamon and cherries. Jay had to admit, this did feel good. . . even if he was overstepping his boundaries.

Nya was startled when her escort suddenly kissed her. How dare you! part of her mind screamed furiously, and she raised a hand to slap him in the face. But the other part of her mind, that romantic, rebellious part, gently told her to put her hand down. The suddenness suggested that the youth didn't know what he was doing, and if he didn't know what he was doing. . . she may as well not either.

She allowed herself to relax in his arms. His sweet scent of vanilla and violets delighted her olfactory senses, and his lips felt soft and tender against hers. She dreamed of a romance like this. . . but she never dreamed it would actually happen. . .

When she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She sighed wistfully. That moment felt so fleeting.

As she turned toward the door, she felt something in the palm of her clenched hand. Opening it up, she discovered it was a smooth calling card, embossed with a silver name and address. "Jay Walker," she read aloud.

So that was the name of the young man who had stolen both her heart and her first kiss. Wicked of him. But the memory of Jay's sudden, but so delicious kiss was still fresh and wonderful in her mind. Her lips were still tingling from his embrace, and she didn't feel any sort of anger towards him. It felt as if she had known him for years, but not by the same name.

Jay Walker was a dashing flirt, but he was something else, too. . .