A Place For Us

Chapter Nine

Author's note: I do not own West Side Story or any element of it.

CHAPTER NINE

"Riff? Riff!"

Riff snapped to attention. Beside him, Action looked coiled and ready to pounce.

"Huh?" Riff asked, squinting into the sun.

The Jets had set up camp in the playground. Riff laid himself out on the see-saw, making out like he was taking a cat nap in the sun. Really, sleep was the last thing on his mind. He had spent the past day or so kept awake purely by adrenaline and excitement. Since the day before, when he and Darcy had gone to the river, all he could think about was seeing her again. But she had to work with her Dad and he had Jet business to deal with. Still, it didn't stop him from counting the minutes until he had free time to go find her.

"I said, when are we gonna go find that lousy Shark that tried to jump Baby John the other day?"

Riff sat up. "Alright. You know where he is?"

"They're probably down near the drug store," Ice piped up from his resting place against the wall. "That's where they tried to get him."

Riff jumped up and dusted the dirt from himself. "Alright Jets, let's head out."

As they all rose from their seats, Riff waved his hand towards the group. "Not all of us. Don't wanna catch too much heat. Just Action and Tiger and me. And you, Baby John. You gotta start standin' up for yourself, kid."

Some of the Jets moaned in disappointment until Riff clicked his fingers, forcing them to fall silent again. He left the playground, the other three in tow.

They walked through the streets and towards the place where their imaginary boundary drew a line between Jet and Shark territory. The drug store sat in the middle. In a more organised society, this may have been considered a neutral zone. But there was no neutral territory here. Everything either belonged to them or the Sharks - there was no in-between as far as Riff was concerned.

When they reached closer, Riff held up his hand to the other Jets to stop them. Outside the drug store, a Shark was standing on the sidewalk. Riff eyed him from a distance. He was strong, but small, and he figured the three of them would be enough to give him a scare.

"Alright, let me do the talkin'," he commanded, before moving towards the lone PR.

As they got closer, the Shark seemed to sense their oncoming presence and looked up towards them.

"Hey amigo," Riff drawled. They stood outside the store, each Jet positioning themselves on either side so the Shark couldn't make an easy escape. "What are you doin' around here?"

"Nothing," the Shark replied, quietly. "Just going about my business."

"Well how come your business is right outside our business?" Riff asked, pointing towards the storefront. "This is Jet territory, don't you know?"

The Shark looked confused, but quickly set his face in resolute stone.

"My mistake," he replied, gamely. "I should have known. It did smell bad around here. Como mierda de perro."

"Why do I feel like he's insulting us?" Action asked, cracking his knuckles together.

"See, we could treat it like a simple mistake, except I think you made an even bigger one." Riff reached behind him and yanked Baby John forward by the shirt. "Recognise him?" he asked the Shark.

The Shark shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You gringos all look the same to me."

Riff looked down at Baby John. "This the guy?"