The sky was dark and grey over Chicago, Illinois.  The National Weather Service, in this week's newspaper, said that a winter storm was brewing and so Lucy knew she had to get some shopping done to prepare.  So, after school, Lucy picked up Katy and bundled her up for poor weather.  Then she let Nery and Vito drive her into town.  

She hit the grocer and paid the soup kitchen a visit to make a donation from what she'd collected at her Giving Thanks holiday event.  This was one of many places she helped out, in addition to a few charities closer to her own heart - ones that helped those who helped her and her own operations.  

Katy prattled on and on about the coming winter storm and whether or not Father Christmas would find her all the way across the big ocean.  Lucy smiled down at her daughter and numerous times reassured her that, yes, Santa could find all good little girls in the world.  He, after all, was possessed of the magical miracle that is the love and generosity we all feel during the holidays... a love felt by God who sent his only begotten son to save the world from their sins.

"Ma'am!  Ma'am!  It's Santa!  He's here!"  Katy bounced up and down and pointed at the Sears department store window.  Lucy peered inside, past the wall of toys on display, and could see a large throne set up with a man dressed in a Santa suit upon it.  

"So he is."  Looking first at the long line of parents and then up at the grey clouds she sighed.  "It's going to storm soon Katy and that long is VERY long... we really need to get this shopping done and get home to your papa. Santa will be here all month long.  Maybe we cou-"

Katy began to stop her feet and cry.  Nery instantly began doating upon her as Frank liked him to do.  Reassuring her that she didn't need to behave this way, her mommy loved her... of course she did!  Damn bodyguards.

Vito offered, "We could take her in and get a spot in line so long as you're just going up to order the feed for the horses?  Just a couple blocks and then right aback?"

Lucy considered it, and since Durden and Whitehill were handled, there seemed no reason to reject the very logical plan.  "Alright.  Katy, you listen to these two.  I mean it.  Mommy has to put in an order for your pony's food... but I'll be back before you get to Santa's lap.  I promise."  Lucy pecked her daughter's cheek.

"I miss Ravi." Katy said, revealing what was probably the real reason for her tantrum. 

Lucy knelt down.  "I do too kiddo."

"We were supposed to go Christmas shopping with our candy money."

Lucy looked up to the bodyguards.  Vito let out a chuckle and Nery looked fit to cry.

"That would have been nice."  She said to her daughter, looking back to her.  "But The Kid is in a much better place now... no more having to sell candy or run away from bad men... he lives on streets made of gold and he gets all the chocolate his tummy can handle!"

Katy nodded sadly and forced a smile.  "I love you Mama."

Lucy hugged her daughter tightly.  "I love you too my dear heart.  I love you to the moon and back and more than all the stars at night."

Katy giggled and pulled back.  She took Nery's offered hand and they and Vito went into Sears.

Lucy headed down the street quickly towards the feed store.  The whole while she walked she was lost in memories of The Kid and Blue Note Label... it was hard not to be down on a dark day like today.  

"Reach for the sky!" Lucy felt the muzzle of a gun thrust into her ribs hard.  "Don't scream... just give me your jewels and the money in your purse and you can walk away with your life."

Lucy swallowed hard.  This could NOT be happening!  Did this man not know who she was?  "You're making a VERY big mistake Mister...?"

"We ain't friends Lady."  He made clear he wasn't going to be talked down easily.  He was desperate... possibly another victim of the Great Depression.  Surly not a real mofioso or he'd know who she was and know better than to try and mug her.  This was probably some down on his luck everyday joe - more was the pity.   "Just give me the goods and stop stallin' or I'm gonna paint the sidewalk red and take it anyway."

Would this nobody REALLY relieve her - the Right Hand Woman of a Godfather - of her shopping money, earrings, necklace, and wedding ring?

Chicago... Why the fuck was Chicago the -only- place where John could go to find a stupid Santa suit? You'd think New York would have one, but no, everyone was sold out or too backed up to get one tailored for him in time. At least it had been a good day so far. He'd found a tailor to do the suit for him, and at a great price. Of course, John's large "donation" to his business certainly added to rushing his order...

With time to kill before needing to head back to the airport, John figured he could go look for more supplies and tools for his market back home. Sears had released their newest catalog and some of the newer industrial equipment looked wonderful; cannery equipment, new ELECTRONIC can openers, and possibly even a new vanity set for Freddie Lou.

He stepped out of an alley near Sears and stopped to smoke a cigarette before continuing, lighting the smoke and breathing the wonderful feeling of warmth inside. The smell of feed was in the air, and oddly that peeked his interest. Maybe they had some cheep horse feed. Making his way down the street, he saw none other than Lucy Dicaprio and... A new bodyguard? No. As he got closer it was apparent that was not the case.

The man jammed a gun into her ribs, but did his best to hide the weapon. The busy streets gave him more cover than should have been and it was by chance that John even noticed. He was merely going to offer a greeting of niceties to the woman and her friend, but ducked back into the crowd before either of them noticed him.

"We ain't friends lady..." he exclaimed quietly. "Just give me the goods and stop stallin' or I'm gonna paint the sidewalk red and take it anyway."

Lucy seemed to stall, befuddled and thinking to herself. However, the sound of a hammer clicking back on a pistol broke the silence that had followed. She'd feel the man tense up, pressed against her.

"Ya could do that..."

John didn't hide his gun, and immediately people started screaming and running. Probably not a good sign for either gunman, but John had not a care. He, for once, was in the right... Minus the vigilante justice laws and such.

"But is it really wort' ya life, lad? It's close to Christmas, an' I'd 'ate to 'ave your family wit'out ya this years, wonderin' 'Wears dad'y?'." His voice jumped a couple pitches as he mimicked a child's voice sarcastically.

"I'll shoot her!" the man yelled.

"Aye lad, I'm sure ya will. But then I will too an' it'll be all for nowt." John pressed the barrel of his gun against the back of the man's head, tapping him to remind him of the severity of his situation. Hesitatingly, he removed the gun and his hands from Lucy, slowly releasing the hammer of his gun.

John, in return, did the same and holstered his weapon back beneath his jacket. "Tell ya wot, lad... 'Ere..."

He pulled out his wallet and offered the man a few hundred dollars. "This should 'elp ya... Jus' remember, Chicago been gracious enough to spare ya."

The man eyed the money, taking it slowly before he looked up with a smile. "Thank you mis-" The thanks was cut short as John's fist connected with the man's gut and he coughed out the rest of his words as his lungs were forcibly evacuated. A second swing, and a third, all in his gut, had him gasping for air on the sidewalk balled up. The money would be his, but this was punishment for fucking with the wrong Dame...

John looked at Lucy, "Get ya swing in lass, teach 'im 'e fucked up... But then we should be gone quickly."

Lucy's breath caught the second she heard the thick accented voice behind her and the mugger - for a heartbeat she thought it was Finnigan but no, someone else.  She knew that voice - it was John from New York!  What the hell was he doing in Chicago?!?

People in a panic began to flee and Lucy tensed.  The desperate man might do anything at this point.  He didn't want to die or get picked up by the cops.  She was a finger twitch away from the unthinkable, Katy walking out of Sears with the bodyguards to see her bleeding in a gutter, Frank losing his mind over her being injured or god-forbid dead, and maybe losing the child that she'd not yet had the chance to tell anyone about.  The doctor's warnings played over and over in her mind and it was all she could do not to weep in fear.

The second she felt the gun move away from her body and his hand come off her, Lucy spun away, grabbing at her stomach protectively, her mouth open and panting with terror coursing through her veins which was quickly morphing into a white-hot rage.  

John put his gun away and threw money at the man, for whom her sympathy had dissolved utterly.  Then he rained down punishment for the man's audacity, upon the stupid thug. With each blow her heart quickened and when he looked to her, offering her a chance to make her fury known, the Donna didn't hesitate.

A right hook upside his head, near his ear, so hard that she split her wind-chapped knuckles.  "Shit."  she cussed as pain blossomed across her hand and the man went down, unconscious face-first to the sidewalk.  She shook her hand, flexing it, trying to stop the pain as John too her other hand and pulled her down the street, out of the view of the cops who were quick to arrive thereafter.  Ducking into an alleyway, backs flat against the bricks, the two caught their breath as Chicago's finest kept running past them.

After a long moment, once Lucy was sure the cops weren't doubling back, "Thank you so much."  She said, turning to him, taking hold of his face and kissing both of his cheeks in greeting and appreciation for his honorable action.  "That guy was desperate - he could have done anything,"  Her emerald eyes lock on John's intensely expressing her abating fear and overwhelming gratitude.  "My daughter Katy is just inside Sears with Santa and if he'd... I..."

Lucy's gaze becomes glassy as her words trail off.  "I think I need to sit down."  She grabs onto John's arm.  "Help me into that diner over there - I know the owner."

John smirked at the kisses on his cheek... Typical mob mom. At least he knew it wasn't his day to die, wrong kiss for that...

"'Opefully 'e will think twice before repeatin' 'is mistake..." He tensed as she grabbed his arm, gripping hers back as she seemed to go a bit weak. "Aye lass. Ya look a bit woozy. Let's get ya inside, Katy's na alone in Sears, right?"

John bent lower so he could drape Lucy's arm over his shoulders, and hold her hand to keep it there. His other arm wrapped around the middle of her back to keep her from going limp and falling. He waddled oddly with her cast over him, but they got to the corner of the alleyway. Both of them peeked both ways before looking to each other with a nod. Coast was clear.

"Okay... That diner across tuh street, aye?" Lucy nodded and the two of them managed to waddle across the street, down the sidewalk a bit, and into the quaint, little diner. John guided her into a soft, cushioned booth near the windows so she wouldn't feel closed in. A few of the people in the place who knew Lucy gave the pair a condescending look. You could hear the whispers, people unable to keep comments to their selves; it was WRONG to see a married woman out in public with a man who wasn't her husband. Bastards. Where were women's rights in the 30s! John, feeling eyes on them, turned and looked over the group of people seated at the counter area who quickly averted their own eyes, back to minding their own business. With a grumble he finally turned back to Lucy, satisfied that they would at least stop staring even if they wouldn't shut up about it.

"So, lemme buy ya summat to eat an' a ginger soda to ease ya?"

John waved over the waitress, regardless of Lucy's answer...

"I left my guys with Katy - she's okay, just wondering where I am for sure.  Hopefully that line takes a while."  She let's John sit her down.  She made note of the few people who dared to mutter and say things about them as they were entering.  The scandal would prick Frank's pride and she wasn't too fond of the implications either.  If she were feeling better she would have given them all a piece of her mind!  Instead she let her friend order her some ginger ale and a sandwich.  

She sighed, "Thank you.  If you'd like you can call Frank to come fetch me.  I'm sure he'll be very grateful to you for helping me out of that situation back there.  I will, no doubt, catch an ear full for not taking enough guys with me to cover both Katy and I."  She shakes her head.  "He's very protective ..." She smiles slightly at the thought of her husband worrying for her so - but not too brightly.  She still wasn't use to the doting and fuss.  Her whole life was spent in scrapes and fighting for each bit - nothing given... this whole 'take a body guard' routine was very new to her still.

A portly man in a stained white apron and paper hat came out from the back, "Mrs. Dicaprio!  How good to see you!" 

"Hey Joe.  What do ya know?"

"Dark clouds are good for business but these whispers of a coming storm... not so much.  No one comes out to the loop in a blizzard.  You and the family prepared if it comes to that?"  The man cleaned his hands on the apron he wore.

"Yes.  That's why I'm downtown actually, I just happened upon a friend of mine and Frank's; Joe this is..." She made to introduce John and realized he might go by an alias so she hesitated only a moment as she looked to John allowing him to offer whatever name he wanted.  She knew Joe would likely just shake hands and make polite before returning to the back and then she and John could talk, but it was never good to throw a man's real name around carelessly if he'd worked to cultivate a false identity.

Of course, Lucy considered silently, Maybe John IS his alias. How arrogant am I that I believed he told me his REAL name.  This man barely knows me and even Husky took his real name to the grave.  Why would anyone else do differently?

He happily ordered Lucy a ginger ale, a sandwich of her choosing, and of course a coffee for himself.

John shook his head as Lucy mentioned calling Frank. "I'm na gonna throw ya under tuh bridge like that... I'll get ya back to Sears an' let ya decide wot to tell 'im. An' ya men." He smiled kindly... "An' ya can leave me out of it if ya think 'e'd be mad. Or ya can tell 'im we lit'rally ran into each ot'er an' I offered ya a cup of coffee..." He shrugged, "Or ya can tell 'im everythin'. Na'er makes a mat'ers to me, lass. It's really wot ya-"

John looked up to the portly man and his stained apron as he walked up, boisterous and loud, inadvertently interrupting the man. He looked back to Lucy with a smile as she went to introduce him. He stood from the booth and held his hand out, "Johnat'an Shoaltz." The two shook and John took his seat back.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Shoaltz," Joe said cheerfully. John nodded with a warm smile, "Me pleasure as well."

Joe and John turned back to Lucy and Joe dismissed himself. "Anyway, good lookin' out Mrs. Dicaprio. I've got to get back to the grill." Joe offered a wave over his shoulder as he spun for the kitchen.

"Pleasant fella," John mused lightly as he watched Joe walk off. "I like 'im." With a nod, he turned to face Lucy again. "So, if ya want me to call Frank, I can... Ot'erwise, I'll let ya 'andle that. Omit wot'eva ya wan' from tuh day."

He leaned back as the waitress brought Lucy's ginger ale and his coffee. "Your sandwich will be ready shortly, Mrs. Joe said he's making it special himself." She smiled, did a light curtsy, and headed off to check on another table.

"Makin' it special, eh? I guess 'e really likes ya an' tuh families 'ere," John chuckled, taking his little mug and sipping from it.

"I might have had a small hand in him not losing the store front a while back."  She sips her ginger ale.  "When I was a kid, he use to toss out his scraps and things from the day and would let us street kids pick through the best of it.  I never forgot that he went out of his way to not let it mix with the real garbage... so now, I return the favor by making sure the real garbage doesn't come his way either.  It's good business to remember folks who looked out for you."

She sighs as she notices the first large snowflakes drifting lazily down to the ground outside.  "Here it comes."  She looks back to John.  "They say it's going to be one hell of a storm.  Reminds me of the year I had Katy.  Was hell out there."  Lucy shakes her head.  For a short while there was silence hanging between them.  Lucy lost in her thoughts, and clearly settling her nerves as she nursed her ginger ale, seemed to be at loss for words.

Finally, the sandwich was brought out to her - corned beef piled high on potato bread.  Lucy's eyes lit up.  "Thank you."  She said to the waitress, reaching into her purse and tipping the girl who, once again, dropped a small curtsy.  It was a strange thing but Lucy allowed that perhaps the owner had made a big deal about the importance of being kind to her.

Lucy took a bite and bliss washed across her face, a bit of her color returning with each bite.  "This is heaven."  She offers the other half to John, "Seriously, you should try it.  The man knows his sandwiches."  She smiled as she chewed her latest mouth full and after swallowing took the last of her ginger ale.

"I'm certainly glad you were in the area when trouble found me... it's been a while since I was on the wrong end of something like that.  Tell me, are you in town on business or is this trip for pleasure?  If business, I won't pry - I don't want to be nosy.  If pleasure, well, I won't pry if you insist upon it."  She smirks.  "But let's just say I wouldn't be hurt to learn that one of the good ladies our operation was drawing you back for another visit so soon after my charity event." 

She chuckled.  She couldn't help but being a small bit of a match maker, she meant it as harmlessly and in as good spirits as possible.  Her mother once told her that her great granny had done such a thing as a career in her village.  Lucy had a hard time imaging one little old lady matching up every young couple in an Irish village, but it had to be less strange than the arrangement her parents and Frank's had come to while they were still in diapers.

John moved himself more toward the corner of the booth, next to the window, as he listened to Lucy speak about her younger years. He nodded in agreement about remembering who had helped you in the past. Returning a debt (no matter how small or insignificant) was always appreciated, especially at the right time. But returning the favors of blessings, that was a miracle in and of itself. John knew it all too well.

They saw the snow at the same time, and as Lucy lost herself in her thoughts, John's mind got caught up in the awe of the (currently) beautiful light snowfall. He smirked with her comments of it being a bad one this year, but they remained quiet afterward. He'd seen plenty of bad snow storms in Yorkshire as a child; one of the worst winters being the last year he'd spent in Scarborough.

His attention was snapped back to reality with the sound of Lucy's plate being placed on the table. He spun back around facing both Lucy and the waitress, a slightly surprised look on his features from the startling clink. He chuckled lightly to himself for being caught off guard, even if it was just minimally. He eyed the sandwich as Lucy took a bite, the corned beef looked amazing, and it smelled divine to boot. He took her up on the offer and lifted the other half of the sandwich to his mouth, salivating as soon as the potato bread touched his tongue. He almost moaned into the bite of the delicacy created by Joe's hand.

"This man knows 'is sandwiches? That's an undastatement, lass..." John chuckled out after swallowing the first bite. Chasing it with a sip of the coffee, he gladly enjoyed the rest of the sandwich as Lucy began conversation.

With a smile, John chuckled again. "To be 'ones', Lass? I made it out to Chicago because, believe it or na, there weren't anywhere 'ad a Sant'a suit." He knew it sounded silly... John searching for a Santa Suit? Such a strange reason to be out this way.

"Na one in New York could even bot'er wit' sizin' me an' tailorin' me a suit up... But I found a lit'le shop looked like they needed some 'elp financially. Were sad seein' some of 'is 'and crafted, 'and-tailored fashions jus' sitin' an' collectin' dust. 'E said it were 'ard to be a specialty shop wit' so many big names in tuh cit'y now. 'E promised 'e could get me tuh suit in about two weeks. I tol' 'im, na'er rush me 'fore ot'ers. I jus' need it 'fore Christmas Eve."

John smiled, "'E said 'e'd 'ave it in two weeks narry a problem. So's said okay. 'E measured me, an' now I 'ave me Sant'a suit 'andled. Got me about seven 'ours till me plane 'eads 'ome... If tuh weat'er lets me." He laughed awkwardly.

"But I figured I could go to Sears an' look at their new cannin' equipment. Got them electric can openers! Thought maybe it may be summat I can look into an' get 'olesale to pitch at me market if I like tuh way they work. Also thought I might be able to get Freddie summat nice, maybe a new vanity set or summat like that. Nice big mirror, fancy desk wit' lo's of space for 'er make up, an' candles, an' tuh likes."

A goofy grin covered his face as he spoke about Freddie_Lou as if she was the most wonderful person to him. It was clear with the way his eyes lit up that he felt the same about Freddie as Lucy did about her sandwich in that first moment she laid eyes on it. Regardless, he chuckled a little bit before he leaned back and looked at Lucy.

"So to answer ya question, I be 'ere strictly on me own personal business... Na 'our' kinna business." He smirked a bit, "Ran into ya because I smelled tuh 'orsefeed an' remembered I needed to get some for me an' Freddie's 'orses. Might 'ave obtained two after we went to tuh races..." He laughed, though Lucy wouldn't understand the reasoning... The caper that had ensued the day of John and Freddie's first, fateful encounter. Unless somehow those headlines had reached Chicago as well...

"Horses stolen after a day of races at Belmont Park..."

If she'd heard, maybe she'd understand.