Author's Note: Hello all! This story was originally published in a collection of one-shots, but I decided that I preferred to publish my one-shots separately. :)

This story is a really quick one inspired by this great headcanon (on Tumblr, of course) I saw that Crutchie was really, really good at voice impressions. I thought of this today, and I just had to write it. So, here it is!

That's all! Please leave a review! Your feedback motivates me! :) And prompts are very welcome, as always! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!


Rain pattered down on the rooftops of Manhattan. (Crutchie was surprised that he'd actually predicted the weather that morning.) As the stormy skies dumped water on the city streets, most people could be found sitting in the safety of their homes, or some kind of shelter. Except eleven-year-old Jack Kelly, who sat on the roof of the Lodging House, sketching yet another Santa Fe sunset.

Crutchie hobbled out onto the rooftop, approaching Jack gently. "Hey Jack?"

"Hey Crutchie," A grin appeared on the older boy's face, but he didn't look up from his drawing.

"You should probably come inside," Crutchie said. "The rain's gettin' pretty bad."

"It ain't gonna bother me," Jack replied.

Crutchie looked up at the sky worriedly. "But, what if it starts lightinin'?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess I'd come in. But, it ain't lightinin' yet, and I ain't heard no thunder." He looked up from his drawing at the nine year old boy behind him. "Why dontcha join me, Crutch?"

Crutchie rolled his eyes and a small smirk appeared on his freckled face. "I don't think you'se bothered by the rain at all, huh?"

Jack patted the space next to him. "C'mon Crutchie. It's just a bit of water. It ain't gonna hurt ya."

Crutchie chuckled. "You'se is so stubborn. I ain't gettin' ya off this roof anytime soon, am I?"

"Nope," Jack grinned, turning back to his sketch.

Crutchie looked over Jack's shoulder and saw the drawing of Santa Fe. He laughed and, in a near-perfect impersonation of Jack, said, "Hi, I'm Jack Kelly, and the only thing I love more than my rooftop is the great city of Santa Fe!"

Jack's head snapped up from his art. "Woah. What the- Crutchie!"

Crutchie laughed again. "I'se was just jokin', Jack. I don't wanna offend ya."

"No, no," Jack furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Crutchie. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Crutchie giggled.

"Ya-Ya voice!" Jack stammered, standing up. "My voice! How-how'd my voice come outta your mouth?!"

"Whaddya mean?" Crutchie asked, seeming to be genuinely confused.

"When-when ya said the thing about Santa Fe!" Jack exclaimed. "You sounded just like me! How'd you do that?!"

"The voice thing?" Crutchie asked. Jack nodded, and the younger boy shrugged. "I dunno. It's just somethin' I'se always been able to do."

"What the..." Jack trailed off, scratching his head. Suddenly, his face lit up and he said, "Do it again!"

Crutchie smirked and, in his Jack impression, replied, "'What the...do it again!'"

"How do ya do that?!" Jack laughed excitedly.

"I dunno how I do that!" Crutchie answered, still impersonating Jack. "I just listened to ya voice, and I tried to make mine sound like what I heard!"

"Can ya do anyone else?" Jack asked eagerly.

Crutchie scrunched up his face in thought, then exclaimed in a new voice, "Who stole my cigars?!"

Jack burst into laughter. "You sound...just like Race!" He said breathlessly.

Crutchie shrugged. "Ah, c'mon. It ain't that good."

"It is!' Jack said excitedly. "Ya gotta do more!"

A sly grin appeared on Crutchie's face. Then, he said in another voice, "I'm Oscar Delancey, and I smell like a sewer."

Jack doubled over with laughter. Soon enough, the two boys had sat themselves back down on the roof, ignoring the buckets of rain that poured from above as Crutchie did impressions of everyone Jack could think of. After at least an hour, but probably more, the two boys were sopping wet, but neither boy cared as Crutchie did voice after voice,a cheeky grin on his face the whole time.

"You know what?" Jack said after a while. "We could have a lot of fun with this."

"Aren't we already?" Crutchie asked, still smiling.

"Yeah, but I mean, just think of the tricks we could play on people!" Jack pointed out, the gears in his head clearly turning.

Crutchie laughed at the thought.

Jack swung his arm around the younger boy and smiled. "Oh, Crutchie. We's gonna have lotsa fun with this talent of yours."


6 Years Later

"'Newsie initiation?'" Davey looked at Jack, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah!" Jack grinned. "Every Newsie has done it, Dave."

Davey gave Jack a doubtful look. "Okay. Why doesn't Les have to do it?"

"He does!" Jack said. "He'll come next."

"Why didn't we do it earlier?" Davey questioned. "I've been a Newsie for well over a week now."

"We was kinda busy with, oh, I don't know, the strike?" Jack replied sarcastically.

"Alright..." Davey nodded, clearly still unsure. "What exactly do I have to do to be 'initiated?'"

"Okay, well, you're gonna need this," Jack smirked, pulling out a blindfold.

"Why?" Davey asked nervously as Jack tied the cloth around his eyes.

"Because," Jack answered, his smirk becoming more mischievous. "Whatcha have to do is try and tag me as I run around the Lodgin' House. But, ya can't look. Ya gotta find me from the sound of my voice."

"What does this have to do with being a Newsie?" Davey questioned, now standing in the center of the room blindly.

Jack sighed loudly. "It's tradition, Davey! We's been doin' this for every Newsie since I was eleven! So, don't question it. Alright, ya ready?"

"I guess," Davey said. "But, I still don't see the point of this."

"Too bad," Jack grinned. "Now, I'm gonna spin ya, so ya have no sense of direction to find me."

"Why do I trust you?" Davey groaned.

"We's been through thick an' thin together, Dave," Jack answered, gripping Davey by his shoulders and spinning him around. After a few more spins, Jack stepped away and shouted, "Alright, Davey! Come and get me!"

Davey stumbled in the direction of Jack. "So, do I just tag you?"

From the other end of the room, Crutchie stood in the doorway biting his lip to keep from laughing. He took a deep breath and then, in his Jack impression that had been through six years of improvement, called, "Yeah, Dave, that's all ya gotta do! Simple, ain't it?"

Davey frowned and whipped around in the direction of Crutchie dizzily. "What? How'd you get over there so fast, Jack?"

Jack strolled around the room and said, "I'se a really fast runner, I guess."

Davey spun around again, almost falling over this time. "What the? But, you were just-"

"Over there?" Crutchie asked in Jack's voice. "Well, now I'se over here!"

Davey shook his head. "What the..."

"Keep up with me, Dave!" Jack called, still on the opposite end of the room.

Davey staggered in Jack's direction. "Where are you?" He grumbled.

"I'se right here!" Crutchie laughed.

Davey whirled around once again, thoroughly confused. "How-what?" He stammered.

"I ain't too far!" Jack exclaimed.

"But-you-you were just!" Davey stuttered, walking around the room unsteadily.

Crutchie finally bust out laughing. Still impersonating Jack, he hobbled over to Davey and said, "Alright, we better give him a break, Jack." Pulling the blindfold off of an utterly confused Davey, Crutchie smirked and, in an impression of Davey, exclaimed, "The poor guy's head is spinning!"

Davey blinked at Crutchie. "What?" He paused and shook his head as Jack walked up to join them, laughing his head off. "How did you..."

"Secret talent," Crutchie shrugged. "I'se got no clue how I do it."

"What the..." Davey trailed off. He sighed. "I need to sit down."

Jack led him to one of the bunks to sit and chuckled, "We's been pullin' this one over on every new Newsie for a good six years now. As soon as they get comfortable, of course."

Crutchie sighed wistfully. "Never gets old."

Davey put his head in his hands. "Why?"

"'Cause it's funny!" Crutchie grinned.

"You shoulda seen yourself, Dave!" Jack laughed. "Stumblin' around the room! Oh, it was priceless, I'm telling' ya!"

Davey was quiet for a moment before a grin appeared on his face. "So, when are we going to do this to Les?'