Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable from Newsies. Disney gets that honor.
This is my first fan fic, so please be patient with me and hopefully it won't suck too bad. Reviews are welcome!
Brigid O'Malley clutched her battered valise to her as she stepped off the ferry that had carried her from Ellis Island to Manhattan. A steady rain fell as her green eyes surveyed the bustling wharf, and she was thankful that although it was well into September, the rain was a warm one. Meandering aimlessly through the crowds of fishermen, longshoremen, and fellow immigrants, she let her gaze wander over the crowd until she spied what she searched for. With a determined step, she fought her way across the street and down the sidewalk to the corner.
"Buy a pape, miss?" the paperboy asked as Brigid approached him.
"No, it's information I'm lookin' fo'," she answered as she studied the boy before her. Tall and muscular with dark curly hair and expressive dark eyes. 'Handsome if ye like da type,' she thought to herself. She watched as the boy looked her over in return, his eyes curious as he took in her tattered boys clothes.
"What can I'se help youse wit'?" he asked finally. Brigid gestured to his papers.
"I need t' know where yer distribution center is, as well as a place t' kip," she replied. The boy scratched his head.
"I'se can tell youse where dey sell da papes, but I'se don' know nuttin' 'bout no kip," he said, eyeing Brigid doubtfully. She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled slowly, trying to be patient.
"A' place t' sleep," she explained. The boy's eyes lit up with understanding.
"Well, dere's da Newsie's Lodgin' House," he began. Brigid nodded her head, encouraging him to continue.
"But youse can' stay dere," he finished with a patronizing smile. Brigid raised an eyebrow.
"An' why is dat, me boyo?" she asked, an angry current drifting just below her conversational tone. The boy's eyes widened and a faint blush crept up his cheeks.
"Well, youse a goil!" he stammered. Brigid sighed in exasperation. She had prepared herself for this kind of reaction, but it didn't make the actual confrontation any less annoying.
"Jack won' let youse stay dere, it's fo' newsies only," he tried again. Brigid barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Now isn' a newsie someone like ye who sells da papes? An' if I were t' go t' da distribution center tomorrow an' buy some papes, wouldn' I be a newsie as well?" The boy shook his head in defeat.
"I'se gonna let Jack decide dis one. If youse wanna stay close t' me, I'll take youse dere when I'se done sellin'," he offered.
"Or ye could tell me how t' get dere, an' I could be one me way," Brigid shot back. The boy looked slightly shocked.
"I'se not gonna let youse wander 'roun' by yerself! It's not safe!" he protested. Brigid opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again with a resigned sigh and fell in step beside him as he started off down the sidewalk. They walked for awhile, their silence broken only by the boy calling out his headlines. Finally, the boy cleared his throat.
"So what's yer name?" he asked as they turned further from the docks and into the city. Brigid kept her eyes on her surroundings as she answered.
"Roisin Dubh, or Roisin, if ya like."
"Rosheen Dove, huh? Dat's nice," the boy trailed off vaguely. Brigid glanced at his blank expression and couldn't resist a chuckle.
"Roisin Dubh. Means Dark Rose in Irish. Back home da lads used t' call me dat cause o' me hair. Dey all said I was da prettiest girl in Ringsend," she said with a wistful smile. The boy frowned slightly at her sad tone.
"M'names Mush," he said, pulling her out of her musing state. Brigid looked up at him with a smirk, causing him to blush all over again. 'Sweet Mary, he'd never make it in Dublin, sweet as he is,' she laughed to herself.
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully as the pair wandered through Manhattan. Finally, Mush sold his last pape, and the two headed towards the lodging house. Brigid again focused most of her attention on her surroundings, trying to memorize some of the street names and landmarks. A few blocks later, a cart loaded with apples caught her eye and she tugged Mush to a halt.
"I'm gonna go get an apple. Would ye like one?" she asked. Mush shook his head.
"I'se'll wait if youse wanna go," he replied. Brigid darted across the street and carefully eyed the selection. She finally found one that was bruised enough to be offered at a cheaper price, but not so bruised that it wasn't crisp and juicy when she bit into it. Chewing happily, she turned back to where she had left Mush. She felt a moment of panic followed closely by anger when she scanned the crowd without seeing him.
"I'se'll wait if youse wanna go," she mocked both Mush and herself for believing him. Resignedly, she re-crossed the street to where they had parted, hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the crowd. A noise in a nearby alley caught her attention and she went to investigate. To her dismay, Mush was being held by a young man. Another one was advancing on the pair, fist raised. A glint off his hand told Brigid that he had a set of brass knuckles. She dropped her apple in the dirt and began to creep down the alley.
"Run, Roisin!" Mush yelled when he noticed her. The taller, uglier of the two men turned, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. Brigid took a couple steps closer and then stopped, watching as the man advanced towards her. Mush struggled against his captor, but froze when Brigid smiled a cold smile of her own. She waited until her opponent was close enough to grab her, and when he tried, she spun lightly out of the way and planted her fist into his nose. A knee to his groin and her hands slapped over his ears had him on the ground. With a feral grin, she advanced on the man holding Mush.
Mush stared in shock at the girl before him. Then his survival instincts kicked in and he drove his elbows into his captor's stomach. The man releases him and doubled over. Mush ran forward, catching Brigid's hand on the way by, and pulling her out of the alley and onto the street. They ran for several blocks before Mush brought them to a halt in front of a worn but homey looking building. A group of boys stood in front, watching the approaching couple curiously.
"Who's da goil, Mush?" a tall boy sporting a cowboy hat asked.
"Me names Roisin Dubh," Brigid said as she held out her hand.
"Means Dark Rose," Mush whispered loudly to a boy wearing an eye patch. The tall boy studied Brigid for a long moment before spitting into his palm and grasping hers.
"Jack Kelly, or Cowboy t' my friends," he answered. Then he took in the darkening bruise on Mush's cheek and the skinned knuckles on Brigid's right hand.
"Care t' tell me what's goin' on, Mush?" Jack asked, his tone clearly conveying that it was more a command than a request. As Mush proceeded to tell him about the day's events, Brigid took the opportunity to study the boys around her. They were a rag tag group ranging from some very young boys up to their leader, who looked to be about eighteen. The overall impression that Brigid got was that they were an easygoing group, and vastly different from the lads in Dublin. She smirked slightly when she caught several of them looking her over, causing them to blush.
Jack was silent for a moment after Mush finished his tale. Then he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
"We've nevah had a goil newsie befo', but as long as youse abide by my rules an' pay yer way, I'se guess we can try dis out fo' a bit an' see what happens," he said finally. Brigid let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and smiled in relief.
"T'anks fo' dat, Jack," she said before she was whisked off by Mush to be introduced around.