A World Apart
by: Amy


"Lacey, pleeeese! I'm beggin' ya, an' I never beg, please, I really need da help!"

As Maggie followed her around the room on her knees, hands clasped together, Theresa "Lacey" Fellichi laughed and continued to brush her wavy black hair.

"I'de lova to help ya Maggie but I can't, really. Now get up off 'a da floor."

Maggie grumbled and slumped onto Sammy's bunk. "How about you Sammy?"

Sammy looked dubious. "Uh, I dunno Mags it's just-"

"It's not hard werk I swear! I jest need someone else der, please!" Sammy shook her head, laughing at Maggie's pleading face. She bent over, kissing her on the forehead and standing up. "I can't Maggie. I promised Blink I'de go with him to this poker game in Midtown. It's an important one, they're gonna plan what to do for the rally anniversary, I need to be there."

Maggie groaned and fell backwards on the bed. With her head still upside down she saw a flopped vision of Gloria shaking her head in amusement as she wrote in her journal.

"I don't suppose I could get ya anywhere near me 'flea-ridden den of sloth, sin, and debauchery,' could I?" Gloria smiled and shook her head. "Sorry mija, not a chance," she shook a finger at her, "I told you working around dose people would bring you noting but trouble, no?"

"Argh! Spare me da lecture Gloria I'm in deep enough shite as it 'tis." She looked around the room at her friends, "If I drop dead of exhaustion, I'm holding you all personally responsible."

"Your exaggerating love, you've handled double shifts before." Lacey threw the comment back over her shoulder as she put her hair in an elegant upsweep.

"Sure, but not tree days in a row! If Douglas doesn't get back soon I'm either going ta drop dead or lose my mind."

"Too late for that!" Sammy ducked out of the room just as a pillow slammed against where she had been standing by the door.

Maggie sulked as Lacey hummed to herself. Maggie raised herself up, leaning back on her elbows and eyeing the tall, dark Sicilian with suspicion. "An what, pray tell, are you so god damn happy about?"

Lacey grinned, "I have a date."

Maggie sat up straight, "Not dat Mikey character-"

"Good god no! I may have been stupid once, but I'm not dat much of an idiot."

"Then who is it?"

Lacey didn't respond.

"Lace, who is it? Am I friends wiv him?"

"Well, ya werk wiv him."

"Oh Lord! Lacey, Colin an Marcus are nice boys but der more like brothers really an ye can't-"

Lacey erupted in laughter. "Jesus Maggie! You give me no credit. I'm not dating your greasy kitchen boys!"

"Well den who is it? Who is it dat I'm not friends with but I werk with?"

Lacey wouldn't speak, she had a guilty look on her face and refused to meet Maggie's gaze. Maggie stood up.

"Lacey," she said in a steady and quiet tone, "tell me."

Lacey played with a strand of hair that had escaped from the pins. "Now, Maggie, don't be mad..."

Maggie started walking towards her.

"...Yer one a my best friends and..."

"Fer Christ's sake Lacey just tell me!"

There was a long pause, and then in a quiet voice...

"Racetrack."

Maggie looked at her, stone faced. "Say dat again."

"Racetrack," Lacey's voice rose, anticipating Maggie's yelling, "now Maggie before you start, he's really very nice once you get to know him-"

Maggie cut her off. "Are Ye Bloody Insane!" She then launched into a tirade on the evils of Lacey's particular choice, which was no surprise. It was common knowledge that the two didn't get along, and Lacey knew she had this coming. But Maggie was really furious this time. She stomped around the room, dressing in a skirt and blouse for work at the pub, and marching out onto the fire escape. Gloria quietly closed the window after her.

Racetrack peeked his head in, grinning devilishly. "I..ah..take it ya told Maggie?"

Lacey sighed, smiled, and pointed out the window, where Maggie could faintly be heard and plainly seen swearing, stomping, and raising her hand to the sky. "Isn't that obvious? Jesus, I've got her praying again..."

Race walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'de say she's takin' it rather well, don't you?"

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Maggie sighed and slumped forward onto the bar in O'Connor's pub, an Irish watering hole in Brooklyn Heights. Tonight, was an unusually long night, and she was a little worried. Her boss, Douglas O'Connor had left a week earlier to take his wife and two children to Boston. Mrs. Bernadette O'Connor was pregnant with their third; although not due for another three months, she wanted to be with her mother for the last term of the pregnancy. Douglas's plan had been to spend two weeks in Boston, come back and manage the pub, and go back two weeks before the baby was due. He wouldn't be in New York for another four days.

Due to the absence, Maggie and her fellow tavern hands, Colin McCourt and Marcus Cunningham, were left to manage the pub. There were three shifts, the afternoon, evening, and late shift. Since Maggie sold papers all day, Colin and Marcus shared the afternoon and evening, and Maggie agreed to the late shift since she wasn't available afternoons. But both boys also held other night jobs, and it wasn't fair to keep making them take days off when Maggie had time for both of hers. So she had reluctantly agreed to double up on the evening and late shift. She was regretting the decision more with every passing second.

The pub was normally a rather safe environment. All the usual patrons knew and either loved or grudgingly respected the feisty yet tiny Irish girl who tended bar, waited tables, and occasionally broke up fights, most of them anyway. But lately, the tavern had taken on some knew clientele; rather large, intimidating, and prone to instigating fights. Maggie kept a wary eye on them, as did most of the regulars, no one wanted trouble.

So it was with no little attention that Maggie eyed the door all night, as the hours dragged on and midnight saw most of the regulars with families depart; rather than risk the wrath of their wives. Around eleven fifteen a new group of toughs had entered the room, casting leering looks as their eyes raked over Maggie's form. She kept a tight reign over her tongue as she took their orders, knowing this set wasn't likely to accept her liberally used insults. She quickly brought them their drinks and retreated behind the bar, cursing Racetrack Higgins to the skies for keeping Lacey from helping her out. Lacey was no doubt smoking a cigar and playing poker back at the Lodging House right now, this was the first time Maggie found herself wishing she were there and not in the pub.

So when Spot Conlon, definitely NOT a regular, strolled through the doors at twelve thirty, just as Maggie had taken the next order from the new table, she was anything but pleased. The few brief circumstances she had met Spot they had ended up exchanging blows, and each regarded the other with a tentative respect, and obvious dislike. Spot tolerated her presence in Brooklyn because she had gone through a lot to close ( or rather, burn) down a factory in Canarsie that had been abusing child labor for years. And Maggie tolerated Spot's quips and insults purely for Jack's sake; he and the boys had given her a home, and they had told her firmly not to mess up the delicate relations with Brooklyn.

The Brooklyn newsie never looked in the direction of the bar, thank God, but merely looked around, and not seeing whomever he was looking for, sat down in a corner, twirling his cane and watching the door expectantly. Maggie decided to ignore him, and finished filling the mugs with Guinness. She balanced the tray on her head, using her arms to keep the newsie from recognizing her. She set the tray down on the table next to the thugs, and placed the mugs in front of each of the seven men. She then took the chit out of her pocket and placed it in the middle of the table.

A tall, dark haired man with a crooked nose and thick stubble drew the piece of paper toward him and looked from it to Maggie. "An wha' da devil be this?"

Well he's not a Dubliner, Maggie thought to herself, the accent was wrong. This man sounded more like he came out of the Northern Country, Belfast perhaps. And if he was from Belfast, he probably came over with Mickey Flynn or some other mob. You had to be careful with Northern Irelanders.

She drew herself up as high as five feet could be and looked him square in the face. "It's yer bill sir."

"Well we're nough done yet." He shoved the paper against Maggie's chest. "So be off wiv ya."

Maggie didn't budge. "Beg yer pardon but its after twelve rules sir. We always 'ave our patrons pay fer what dey've 'ad by twelve thirty. Ye can always get more sir, we jest start ye wiv a fresh chit. But da previous has ta be paid off at twelve thirty, or der abouts. Its all written right der sir." She pointed to a painted wooden board that explained Douglas's policy for making sure he "sucked da money outta dose drunken bastards before I'm too drunk ta remember to collect it." It also helped people from drinking more than they had. Though not always.

The dark haired man wasn't going to cooperate. He drew himself up, towering over Maggie. "I'll pay when I bloody well feel like it ye tart. And not a minute before. Now get off wiv ye before I get angry."

Now Maggie's hackles were up. A persistent voice was nagging at her, telling her to let this one go, but she couldn't, she had to make one last try. She reached over the table, taking the man's mug and tossing its contents on the floor. "Ye won't be gettin anytin' else untill ye pay yer chit, sir!" The last "sir" was dripping with sarcasm in an attempt to cover up the slight tremor in Maggie's voice. Unlike usual, most of her friends among the regular patrons were gone, the only ones who knew her were a group of old men in the corner who couldn't hear what was going on. The strong Terry and Patrick were at home with their families. She was on her own.

Rage flared up in the man's face, he grabbed her wrist, gradually increasing pressure around it. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, so close she could feel and smell his stinking breath, "Oh, I'll pay the chit lassie."

He ran a finger along her jaw line, over her lips and down her neck, around her collar bone and rested it in the center of her chest. "Such a lovely chit of a girl ye are too."

Maggie was scared, she wasn't going to kid herself into believing she could overpower the brute before her, not with his friends about. She had only one way of making sure the tough wouldn't be up to what he was proposing, if it didn't work, she was helpless.

Acting quickly and catching the man off guard she bit down hard on his arm at the same time bringing her knee into his groin with as much strength as she could muster.

The stranger swore and released her, cussing and hollering fit to inform any one in a five block radius that this damn little slip of a bar girl was a demon straight out of hell that didn't know the first thing about how to behave around her betters.

While he kept prattling on Maggie decided she had had enough. She wasn't going to wait around here until he felt better and came back to settle the score while she was closing up. She'd never closed the pub early without Douglas's permission before, but she had no choice. She grabbed a broom stick and used it to shove the still cursing stranger and the rest of his party towards the door. She was about to shut it when he whipped around with a right cross that got Maggie squarely in the right eye, knocking her to the floor.

"Ye 'ave'nt seen da last av us darlin'." He leered at her as his companions helped him limp into the darkness.

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Maggie ignored, or tried to ignore, the throbbing pain in her eye, taking time only to wipe the blood away before turning to the three occupied tables in the room. The old men in the front corner, practically blind and deaf, didn't notice anything amiss with her or anything that had gone on. They patted her on the head and bid her goodnight in slurred syllables, not even noticing the early hour.

The table by the back stairs was occupied by a new set that Maggie vaguely remembered. The growled and complained, but Maggie's tongue hadn't been injured and in the end they ceded a defeat and left.

The last table occupied was in the back corner, a dark remote part of the tavern kept that way at the request of patrons and their "guests". Maggie didn't relish breaking up a romantic interlude, but she was determined to get out of Brooklyn early. She approached the figure of a young man lying along the bench, trying to see if there was another body next to him. There wasn't.

"Excuse me sir, we're closed."

No response.

Maggie cleared her throat loudly and spoke up, "Sir, yer gonna 'av ta leave now."

The figure didn't even move.

Maggie shouted, still receiving no response. That was when she noted several bottles and glasses on the table. Even a light sleeper would be dead to the world after downing that mess, it was some of the most expensive stuff in the place; but Maggie noted with grim satisfaction that the corpse-like figure had had the courtesy to pay before he passed out.

When shaking proved fruitless Maggie knew what to do. She hated to do it to such a large tipper, but she had to clear the room. She went to the back of the bar and picked up the metal tub that had held the ice, now an icy watery slush. She grimaced, knowing this would be a rude awakening. She tried one last shout and a shake before turning the tub over and dousing the sleeper's head and body with the icy contents.

The stream of curses that flew out of that mouth would have rivaled even Maggie's vocabulary. Maggie tried to stifle a laugh as she tossed the poor fellow a dish towel and went about cleaning up the other tables.

"What da hell didja do dat fouh?" Came an angry voice.

A local boy, Maggie guessed from the accent, ugh, I guess that means I'll have to see him again. Hope he doesn't carry a grudge.

"I tot ye were dead, da morgue doesn't pick up till Thursday an since I 'av no intention a draggin' ye down der meself, I figured packing ye in ice would keep da smell away. People do eat here ya know." Maggie didn't turn around but went on wiping tables and putting chairs up.

"Ha ha," came a very un-amused voice. "Evah try shakin a guy?"

"I did."

"Oh."

"I suggest da next time ye drink yerself into a stupor, ye do so at home, I've got ta close up now."

"Wait a minute, dis place don't close till two, der's over an hour left."

"Well I changed my mind, we're closin now, so good night."

"You mean ta tell me dat you pouwad ice down me back because you wanted ta get a little extra sleep? Fahget it doll, I ain't leavin. So settle down an bring me anudah Guiness."

"I'll do notin of da sort. I say when we close, an we close now. Good Night!"

"An I say dat no goil is gonna tell me when ta go home an you'ah stayin open!"

"An who in da hell do ya tink you are ta tell me what ta do in me own bar?!" Maggie spun angrily around.

And found herself face to face with Spot Conlon.

She knew she should hold her peace, she shouldn't even let him know she was a newsie, but it just slipped. "What da hell are you doin in here?"

Spot hadn't realized the bar girl had met him before, but upon closer inspection, he realized who she was. That damn Manhattan newsie that had been sneaking around Brooklyn before. "You!"

"What do ye tink yer doin' in here? Besides, I tot ye boys had a rally ta plan."

"Yeah? Well dat 'meatin' stopped bein about da rally and more about pokah over an hour ago, and I'm da one dat lives heah fo yowah infomation. Dis is my toif. I run dis place, an I say dat youse is keepin dis place open."

Maggie could feel the anger rising to her head. She could still faintly hear the little voice telling her to calm down and not curse at Spot. But the roar in her head was drowning that little voice out.

"Dat has ta be da biggest piece of harse shite I have ever heard in my life. An although ye tink yerself real high an mighty, I couldn't care less; ye may run da Brooklyn Newsies, Meester Conlon, but ye don't run me. Now get out." She used both sudsy hands to push Spot in the direction of the door.

Spot wasn't used to this kind of treatment, especially from a girl. He stood there, flabbergasted, speechless.

Maggie didn't particularly care what would happen to her as a result of her outburst, she was tired, her head hurt like hell, and she'd be damned if she was going to let another man intimidate her tonight. She picked up Spot's cap and cane, knowing full well she could be beaten just for touching them. Before Spot could notice and protest, she marched to the inner door, which opened into a small closet sized atrium, and opened the outer door, throwing Spot's things into the street.

She stared back at Spot from the door, and said in a flat voice, dangerously soft, "Get out."

"What da hell-"

"Rosdaim i furnn sibh trist basdard!"

The echoes of Maggie's shout rang from the walls. Spot couldn't understand a word of the Gaelic, or even that it was Gaelic, but the tone and the familiar sound of the last word made it easy to tell it wasn't exactly a compliment to the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies. Spot could tell from the wild look in Maggie's eyes that he wasn't going to get anywhere pulling rank on her, not now. He gathered his ego and dignity about him and marched out, cursing under his breath as he heard the doors slammed behind him and locked so swiftly he didn't have time to turn around before the bolts slid into place.

Fuming, he set off for his Lodging House, determined to have it out with Jack about all this once the hangover cleared. That boy had some explaining to do.

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Maggie sighed, slumping against the door as soon as she was sure Spot was on his way. Something was wrong around here. The pub was normally the one place she could go where she knew she would be safe. Even more so then at the Lodging House, because she knew no matter what she did, she would belong here. But the new clientele that had started to show up were making her nervous. Very nervous.

She shoved herself away from the wall violently and went about mopping up. She didn't know if she had a headache coming on, but she knew damn well she'd have one once Jack heard about her little tiff with Spot. It was well known that the two didn't really hit it off, but she'd never done anything like this before. And all the while she was telling herself it was a mistake, a little part of her smiled at the look on Spot's face when she threw him out.

When the floors were clean and the dishes rinsed and ready for Colin to scrub the next morning, Maggie locked the back door and blew out the lamps. She grabbed her coat, Colin's old one with the elbows worn out that fell down to her knees, from its hook in the atrium, and locked the inner and outer door.

She had never felt uneasy going home before, but she felt as if something was out in the streets watching her, and she hurried home as fast as her feet could take her.

She slipped in through the window, as usual, and smiled when she saw Annie had left the light burning for her. Dead tired, she quickly shed her clothing, sleeping in an oversized shirt, used her last bit of strength to heave herself onto her top bunk, and promptly passed out.

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"Wake up! Wake up! Time ta sell da papes! Get up ya lazy lumps! Get UP"

WHAM! Maggie's pillow hit Kloppman dead in the face.

"Even you Maggie! Get up!" Kloppman chuckled to himself, throwing the pillow back on Maggie's bed and closing the door behind him.

"As I have said befar," Maggie grumbled, pulling herself into a sitting position, "Dis, is an ungodly hour of da marnin' ta be wakin' up." She hopped off the bunk onto the floor, still not fully awake, and headed for the wash room.

Lacey's shriek woke her up.

"Jesus Maggie! Where did ye git that one?" Maggie looked at her confused. She turned to Sammy

"What da hell is she talkin about?"

Sammy grinned, "Well, I can't be sure, but I'de say dat god awful shinah on ye face. What happened last night?"

Maggie groaned. "Sweet Bridgett I fergot about dat. It's nothin' Lacey, really. Jest a little trouble at werk."

Lacey joined her on the stairs towards the washroom on the second floor. "Maggie, what is it?"

"I told ya, its notin'. Did ya enjay da poker game?'

Lacey frowned. "Maggie, ye never get hit at werk, Douglas would hang da offender by his entrails dat dares ta lay a hand on ya."

Maggie sighed as she splashed water on her face. "Dats sorta da trouble Lace, Douglas ain't der. Why da hell did ya tink I was pleadin' wiv ya ta come help me out!"

She refused to look at Lacey, brushing by her on her way back to the girls room and rummaging around by Sammy's bunk. She grabbed a jar and mirror and sat on the bed, applying the make-up Sammy swore she never used to the area around her eye. "We're short staffed, dats all. An we've got some new customers... new but not exactly improved." She put the make-up away and examined her face. Not perfect, but no one was going to be studying her eye anyway. She got up to go downstairs, Lacey put a hand on her arm.

"Maggie... I didn't know. I'm-"

Maggie cut her off. "Don't worry girl. I'm fine. I'll werk it out with da boys, we'll come up with sometin'." She smiled and trotted off down the stairs. She smiled at Jack as she passed him, knowing that after Spot got finished selling this afternoon, the strangers in the bar would be the least of her problems.

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Maggie was cautious as she entered Brooklyn that afternoon. She went out of her way to avoid the docks, coming up the back way to O'Connor's.

Colin was in the pub, wiping down the bar. He looked up as she entered. "Jesus Mary an' Joseph!" He hopped over the bar and grabbed Maggie by the shoulders. "Are ye all right?"

Maggie was confused for a moment before she caught her reflection in the glass windows. Sammy's make-up was apparently not sweat-proof. She sighed. "It's sort of what I came ta talk to ye about Colin."

Colin put a hand on he back and steered her towards the bar stool, concern filling his eyes. He went around the bar to get her a glass of water. "So where did ya get dat one?"

"Here." Colin's head snapped up.

"Somebody hit you, here? How-"

"Dats da problem boyo, we've got a different set comin' in around da start of da late shift. Big, tough, boys, from Ulster if I've got da accent right. Must be Flynn's toughs. Probably got tossed out a der usual spot and are lookin' fer a new place."

Colin put the glass in her hands. "Ye should've closed."

"I did, right after this," she gestured to her eye, "But I can't do dat every night, we bring in a lot during dat last shift."

"Darlin', Douglas wouldn't want ye sacrificin' yer face fer da profits."

"We need more help Colin, an' bigger help, if ye know what I mean."

Colin nodded, deep in thought. "I tink I can help. I'll see ya tanite before da evening shift, all right?"

Maggie nodded, gave him a quick hug, and left the pub. She ran quickly out of Brooklyn, but slowed her pace once she crossed the bridge. She didn't need to get to the Lodging House too soon.

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There was no sign of Spot when she got inside, but Crutchy stopped her as she moved past the second floor towards the third floor stairs.

"Uh, Maggie? Jack wants ta see ya. Said ta tell you as soon as you got in. Said it was impoitant."

Maggie nodded, and cautiously stepped into the boys bunkroom. She stood in the doorway and knocked against the wooden frame. The room was mostly deserted, most of the boys still being out selling or eating or whatever. Jack sat on his top bunk. He looked up, and smiled. "Yeah, come on in Maggie."

Well, smiling was always a good sign. Maggie climbed the bed and seated herself at the other end of Jack's bunk. "Ye wanted ta talk with me Jack?"

Jack nodded, but he looked a little uneasy. He ran a hand through his hair. "Ya see, da long and da shoit of it is dis. I 'had a little visit from Spot taday. Not dat I mind Spot an all, but he didn't come heah ta chat. He came heah ta complain about you."

Maggie looked at him expectantly, "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Says dat you disrespected him an trew him outta a pub dat was on his own toif."

"It was closin' time."

"Not accoiden ta him."

"Look, I was in charge an when I'm in charge dat pub closes when I say. And fer reasons a me own I said dat it was time ta close. Everyone else left, I don't see why Spot was so offended."

"Cuz he's da leadah a Brooklyn Maggie! He's one a da most famous an respected newsies in New Yawk! An ye don't jest trow him out on da street like some drunk."

"Well, he WAS drunk. An he's not da leader of Brooklyn, Jack, he's the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies and dose two tytles are not da same!"

Jack held up his hands in front of him. "Easy, easy deah! I ain't sayin ye didn't have no reason, but whedah ye like it owah not, Spot carries a lot of powah. An ye have ta be careful. All right? All I'm sayin is dat you, especially you, have ta be careful. I don't know how, but somehow you'se got undah his skin. An anytin an everytin ya do just sets him off."

"But dats not my fault!"

"I know! I know, but I don't wanna 'av ta deal wiv problems between us an Brooklyn. I don't even wanna think about problems between us and Brooklyn. So jest be careful, all right?"

Maggie nodded. "Fine, all right, I'll be careful." She got up to go.

"Oh, an Maggie?"

Maggie stopped at the door and turned.

"Maybe it would help things a little if youse wouldn't go intah Brooklyn so much, huh?"

Maggie could feel the anger welling up. "I werk der Jack, I don't see how I can avoid it."

"Well cantch take some time-"

Maggie hated to interrupt Jack, she liked the fellow, liked how he treated his newsies, but the request was out of the question.

"Look, if Spot Conlon has a problem wid me werkin in Brooklyn, he can talk with me about it. But dats more den a job, dats family I have over der. An if ye farce me ta leave dem, I'll 'av ta leave here. An not jest Manhattan, Jack. I mean a very long boat ride. So you tell Spot ta deal wid me."

With that she turned on her heel and left the room.

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It was hot. Maggie let the wind blow through her hair, hoping the breeze on the roof would cool her temper as well. It wasn't working. She cursed again, pacing back and forth and kicking whatever came into reach.

"Easy!" Came a cry from behind her. She turned to see David ducking down on the fire escape ladder as a roof slate she kicked whizzed by his head. He climbed to the roof, holding up his hands. "I come in peace."

"Very funny."

He crossed over, giving her a serious look. "Would this have anything to do with the little shouting match you and Jack had?"

"It wasn't a shoutin' match."

"Maggie, I could hear you from the street outside, it wasn't exactly a calm discussion."

"An why should I be calm! He's da one orderin' me aroun dlike I'm his bloody lackey er sometin!"

"Is this what you meant by a calm discussion?"

Maggie cracked at that and smiled. She sat down next to David, leaning against the chimney. "Honestly, it was Jack's fault, he was bein' totally unreasonable."

"What did he want?"

"Only da impossible, he practically ordered me ta stay out of Brooklyn. An' he gave me dis little talk about keepin' me temper-"

"Now I understand what you meant by him asking the impossible." Maggie punched him in the arm.

"So what about Spot?"

Maggie's fist clenched. "I am so sick an tired a hearin' dat name. I swear ta god if I hear it one more time I'm gonna trow whoever it is off da roof."

David continued to look at her expectantly.

"All right, all right. Jack was angry because a what happened last night. I sorta trew da little prick outta O'Connor's on his arse."

David gave her a Look. "Are you crazy-

"Well, he deserved it! Tryin' ta tell me what ta do in me own pub. He's insufferable. Dat boy needs ta learn der are certain people in dis world dat he can't control, an I'm one of 'em."

David laughed. "I'll believe that. Pity the person who tries to run you. But, honestly O'Rourke, Sp-" he stopped himself at Maggie's look, "I mean, that guy, he holds a lot of power. All the leaders do but especially the one in Brooklyn."

Maggie shoved herself away from the chimney as she stood up. "I hate ta be da one ta break dis to ya David, but dis whole set up ye got here, it's really stupid. Do ye mind tellin' me what exactly he did ta EARN all dat power? Or did he jest inherit it from someone befar him? I bet no one knows what dat kid did dat was so great either. Jesus, its like da Bloody mob. Except dey have real issues an real business dat dey fight over. What da hell are you doin'? Whinin' over who sells newspapers? Do ya tink dose boys ever realize how small dey are in da scheme a tings? Because if ye look at-"

David cut her off, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Easy there! I didn't invent the system, I just sell papes. Maybe you should talk to Jack...."

Maggie turned to face him. "Right, like dey'de listen to me. He doesn't want me ta go inta Brooklyn David. He wants me ta stay away. I've got family der an he wants me ta stay away! I won't do it, I owe Douglas too much. Do you know where he found me David, huh? I was tryin ta get a job at a seamstress, like Emma has. I'de been ta tree others befar, an dey all told me da same ting. Dey were full, no positions available. Despite da 'help wanted' signs in der doors. At least da last one, she jest told me straight out what dey wouldn't. 'We don't hire Irish.' Dat's what it's like out der. It's like I told Aiden, we're a disease ta dem, a feckin' disease. Well, I was tellin da woman an her husband exactly what I tot about dat when Douglas happened by. Hired me on da spot. He didn't have to, but he understood. I'm 16 years old an he trusts me ta take care of da pub while he's gone. He's family David, jest like any a da girls are, jest like Sammy an Blink an Jack...an you."

She was facing away from David at that moment, so she couldn't see him smile. He walked up to her from behind, wrapping his arms over shoulders and leaning his chin on the top of her head. "So what are you going to do?"

Maggie sighed, smiling and tilting her head back to look at him. "I'm not sure yet, but he's not keepin' me outta Brooklyn. You've seen da pub David..."

"Mmmhmmm, you're right. Sometimes it feels like you belong more there then you do here. Everyone there seems to know all about you. We seem to hardly know you at all, even me."

"I guess I don't exactly spend a lot a time around here do I?" She thought about that a moment. "So maybe dats why dey don't understand. Hmm, when Douglas gets back maybe he can lighten my schedule, I could spen more time here."

"Sounds good to me." David wasn't going to push the issue, he was content to stay as they were. In fact, he was kind of relishing the casual atmosphere and closeness they had right now. It wasn't often Maggie opened up, or talked this long without yelling. But he couldn't resist the last barb, it was too easy.

"You know, you could try to give Racetrack another chance. He's really not that bad a guy."

Maggie grabbed his arms where they rested above her collarbone. She squeezed them tighter. Her voice was icy and tense. "So people keep telling me." She continued to squeeze.

"Ouch ouch, OK I give! Uncle! It was a cheap shot I'm sorry!" Maggie laughed and released him. David rubbed his arms and frowned at her with mock pain. "Jack was right, you really need to do something about that temper."

The clock chimed in the distance and Maggie pulled out her father's pocket watch. "Shite, I'm gonna be late fer work, I'de better go."

David looked at his watch. "It's not even six Maggie, you have plenty of time."

"Not if I have ta double around da long way because a certain someone is bound ta have lookouts fer me." She laughed, heading for the ladder, then paused. She ran back to David, giving him a big hug. "Tanks." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and darted off.

David just stared after her, bemuse, a smile creeping across his face. "Any time!"

--------------------------------------------------

It took Maggie twice as long, but she managed to get to O'Connor's without being spotted or hassled by Spot's lookouts. It was the tail end of the afternoon shift when she got there. She grew wary as she spotted an enormous figure seated at the bar.

Colin spotted her and waved her over. He gestured to the large figure, "Maggie my love, yer days a trouble, are over." The figure stood up and Maggie found herself staring up at a young man over six and a half feet tall, and built like an ox. He had fair hair and blue eyes, but when he spoke his rich baritone voice was soft.

"Please toy meetcha." Maggie frowned a bit at the accent. It wasn't quite Irish. But she smiled.

"Da pleasures all mine I'm sure. We're in dire need of help. Colin...." She looked at him expectantly.

Colin was confused, "What?"

"Colin!....."

"What?"

Maggie said in a low voice, "Colin, fer Christ's sake, does da man-mountain have a name?"

She had tried to keep her voice quiet, but the enormous man chuckled. Colin blushed.

"Oh, sorry bout dat. Maggie, meet Liam Kaneely. Liam, may I present Maggie O'Rourke."

Maggie grinned, "Again, it's a pleasure Liam. Fergive me, but yer not from Ireland, are ye?"

"My faver was, but he died when I was jest a wee one. Me mover raised me doh, she was Welsh."

Maggie grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Ah, a Welshman! I don't believe we've 'ad one of dose around here. Do ye tink he can handle da job Colin?" She joked.

Colin smiled, "You'll have to get used to Maggie, doesn't care who she offends. Fer yer information love, Liam has a day job. He's a steel werker. But his strong as da devil, an yet manages ta have a lovely disposition. You know, ye could learn a lot from him."

Maggie punched Colin in the ribs. "Wonderful, so ye can get started right away den?"

Again, Colin spoke up. "Aye, and he already spent da afternoon gettin' a crash course in the pub from me an Marcus. So he should be ready ta handle shifts on his own too."

At this Maggie squealed and threw her arms around Liam's waist, not being able to reach his neck. "Yer a godsend Liam. Ye can have da late shift tanite."

She then disentangled herself and skipped into the back room to put on her skirt.

Colin rolled his eyes and grinned apologetically at the bewildered Welshman. "Sorry, you'll 'av ta get used ta dat. Jest how Maggie is, don't take it personal, she's dat way wid almost everyone."

Liam stared after the lithe figure sprinting into the back room and grinned. "Tink I'm gonna loyke dis job!"

Liam ended up working more than the late shift on his own, but once he heard Colin's explanation about Maggie's week of double shifts, he didn't mind. The toughs that showed up didn't try anything with Maggie, not with Liam standing just behind her, and they left early. Since the place would likely be deserted after twelve untill people were certain that the goons weren't coming back, Maggie didn't feel too bad about leaving. She was back in the Lodging House by ten.

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The usual nightly rucus from the boys bunkroom drifted up the stairs to the relatively calm girls bunkroom. It was only calm on account that most of the wilder girls were out for the night, those who weren't were downstairs playing poker, and there were only five people in the girls bunkroom.

Gloria sat in a chair she had pulled up near the window, her knees curled up against her chest, writing in her journal she had kept since before she came to America.

Sammy lay on her stomach with her feet in the air, a book spread out before her. Sammy's father had been a doctor and she was determined to find out all she could about "Takin care 'a oduhs."

Crutchy and Kats sat on Kats' bottom bunk, one of the days papers spread across their knees. Kats had never learned English before she came over from Latvia, her other "dock goils" had been helping her learn as best they could But now that they were living in the Lodging House, Kats and Crutchy had become good friends. It worked out well for the other girls, and although Emma was still Kats' main tutor, she worked several jobs like the rest of the girls, and it was nice to know Crutchy was around to continue Kats' "education", when they couldn't be there.

Finally, Maggie sat cross legged on her top bunk, hunched over some lace-work she was working on for Lacey, squinting in the dim light to make out her stitches. Gloria looked over at her, "You know love, you're going to go blind if you don't use better light then that."

"Hrmph," was all Maggie could manage with the pins in her mouth.

Gloria grinned, "I mean, look how its been sapping you brain cells away. Can't you talk at all?"

Maggie demonstrated her ability to communicate by launching a shoe across the room at Gloria. It went shy of it's target and banged into the bunk above Crutchy and Kats. Kats shouted something in Slavic to which Maggie responded in Gaelic. Both girls threw up there hands.

"Geez Irish," Crutchy yelled, "watch where you'se is trowin' dat stuff huh? If you'se is growin blind den maybe ye shouldn't be hoilin' heavy projectiles!"

Maggie threw the other shoe, which slammed into the bunk post right near Crutchy's head. "Blind am I?" She muttered.

Crutchy glared at her, then pointed to word on the newspaper. "See Katsy, temper." He looked at Maggie and jabbed his finger back into the paper, "Tem-per".

Sammy giggled and hid her face in the book. Gloria sighed and threw back one of Maggie's shoes. Maggie just rolled her eyes up and started muttering under her breath "Jesus Mary and Joseph.."

"Great Crutchy," said Sam, "Now youse got hoir prayin again." Gloria erupted into giggles, Crutchy just looked confused. "What did I do?"

The scene was interrupted by a tiny figure darting into the room and launching herself onto Maggie's bunk. "Sweet Bridgett!" was all Maggie had the time to get out before Racetrack and Spot burst into the room.

"Where is she?" Racetrack demanded.

"Where's who?" Maggie responded, although the pins in her mouth made the reply come out scarcely intelligible.

"Dis!," Spot answered, pulling at a shoe dangling off the bunk, which was attached to little Annie, a ten year old newsie whose angelic blond curls where very deceiving.

"Ow!" She shrieked.

"Aw come on, I didn't pull dat 'ard ya wus!" Spot spat back.

'It's not dat," came the indignant reply, "I got stuck wid one a Maggie's needles." She said this as she pulled the offending needle out of her shirt and held it out to Maggie accusingly.

"Well what da ya expect ta happen when ya trow yerself inta a pile'a lacewark" was Maggie's exasperated response. She took the needle and pretended to busy herself straightening out the mess. She was not going to start a shouting match with Spot in the house; although seeing him pull on Annie made her want to scream. Without looking up at the three faces giving each other angry glares, she asked, "So what is this all about?"

"She cheated at pokah!" Came Racetrack's reply.

"I did not!" shouted Annie

"Aw you just shut up!" With that Spot shoved her onto the lower bunk where she sat pouting. "If settin your seat up so you'se can see anudah guys cards in da reflection of a mirror ain't cheatin, what is?"

Maggie exercised every ounce of self control she had, clenching her fists and reminding herself that Jack was right downstairs. She still hadn't looked up from her lace-work when she butted in with, "I fail ta see how all a dis has anytin' ta do with me."

"Well, you tawt hoir didn't you?"

"Racetrack, 'ave ye ever seen me play poker?"

"No."

"Den, what on earth would lead ya ta believe dat I taught Annie?"

"She said you did!"

Maggie looked up at this and leaned over to get a look at Annie on the bottom bunk.

"Annie?"

Annie raised guilty eyes upward. "Yes?"

"How well were ya doin tonight?"

Annie smiled, "I won about half. And it wasn't till the last game dat we moved toward da door dat just 'appened ta be across from da washroom, dat just 'appens ta have a mirror!"

"But ye were doin well untill then?" Annie nodded.

Maggie looked at Racetrack. "Fer ta previous games I take full credit fer Annie's education in poker. But I believe the responsibility fer 'er knowledge of dat mirror trick comes from you. I've seen ya use dat tactic before, and I suspect had Annie not beaten you ta the place on the floor, ye would 'ave used it tonight. I admit I taught her how ta play poker, but I never taught her how ta cheat. You did dat yerself. Now, if ye don't mind, I've got some werk ta finish up."

With that, she turned back to her lace, but she looked up as Spot moved by to get to the door. She said in a low voice, "I restrained meself because yer very impartant ta dese boys an yer a guest in dis house. But I swear on my mother's grave dat if ye so much as touch one hair on dat child's head ever again, I'll rip yer arms off an beat ya ta death with 'em." Without another look at him she went back to her work.

Spot gave her a dirty looked and left the room after Race, grumbling under his breath.

----------------------------------------------------

Jack was pleased to hear that Maggie hadn't been in Brooklyn till all hours that night, and for reasons of his own, Spot chose not to tell him about the incident in the bunkroom. Possibly, in retrospect, he wasn't entirely proud of his behavior with Annie. But little did Jack suspect things would come to a head the next night.

Liam lived on the Lower East side, and when Colin had learned Maggie was having, as she vaguely put it, "difficulties" getting into Brooklyn, he suggested she and Liam walk over together. Maggie agreed. She put on her skirt and blouse, pulled her hair back, and headed for Liam's address. The two then walked together over the bridge.

It wasn't long untill a Brooklyn lookout, stuttering and obviously intimidated by Liam, stopped them. He had sent a runner, and Spot must not have been far away, because after Maggie pushed past him, Spot showed up. He leaned against a brick wall, twirling his cane.

"Well, what have we heah? I tot you'd been told ta stay outta my territory, unless, of coise, youse has loined a little respect since we last met?"

Maggie put a hand on Liam's arm and motioned him to stay out of things. Then she walked towards Spot. "Oh, I've been told, but I never agreed ta stay away. An I never will, ye got no right. An as fer respect, I only show it ta dose dat deserve it."

Spot sneered at her remark. "An what would you know 'bout respect anyway? Youse ain't a leaduh, no one even knows you, yowah job is ta listen ta us. Cuz we'se da one wid da power. An dat gives me da right ta keep anyone outta my territory dat I want."

Maggie shook her head in disbelief. "Look at you! Yer a kid! Yes, yer da leader of da Brooklyn Newsies, but dat doesn't make ye lord of de entire island an everyone on it! I'm NOT a Brooklyn Newsie, I don't answer ta you, I answer ta Jack, an my bein' here isn't either of yers business since I'm not sellin newspapers now! I'm jest werkin in a pub like a normal person. So leave me alone!"

Spot didn't budge. "You'se ain't gowen nowheah. Everytime ye come in heah trouble stahts. Ya boin down buildins, attract da bulls, an bring filth an trash from all ovah New Yawk an do woild in heah wiv you." At the last remark he gestured with his cane towards Liam.

Maggie's face went stone cold. "You take dat back."

Spot looked at her incredulously. "Take it back? Why? Its da truth."

Maggie shook her head. "What kind a deluded monster are you! What makes ye tink ye can treat people dis way! You don't even know him. Or me fer dat matter."

Spot smirked. "Who needs to? Youse all da same."

"You bastard."

"What did you say? Did you say dat at me? Jacky boy needs ta teach you some manners." With that Spot made to shove her. It was all Maggie needed.

She grabbed the arm coming toward her and twisted it, hard. She then punched Spot in the stomach and made a sweep with her right leg that cut under his right and dropped him to the ground. She grabbed Liam. "We're leaving."

Liam, dumbfounded, followed her quickly through the streets.

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Maggie didn't stay long at the pub, knowing Spot would come looking for her. She got Liam settled and darted home, the long way. It wasn't even dark when she reached the house.

"Maggie!" Sammy sounded pleasantly surprised, "You're home! Dis great, dey'se havin' anuddah meetin' 'bout da strike anniversary heah tonight. Da last one toined inta a pokah game, suhprise suhprise, and notin' got done. Should be fun."

Maggie gave her a weak smile. Somehow tonight promised to be anything but fun.

She threw herself onto her bunk, not really having the will to do anything at the moment. That's when she heard the rucus downstairs, but she didn't move. Sammy got up and left the room. The girls could hear a clatter of footsteps and loud voices. Moments later Sammy entered the room, followed by a very angry Lacey and a few other girls.

"Da nerve! What could be so important dat dey had ta throw us out!" Lacey stalked about in circles until she had vented her anger, then sat down with her lace.

Emma and Kats looked up from a paper they were studying. "What happened?"

Sammy slouched down on her bunk. "Da usual. Da great Spot Conlon an some of his Brooklyn buddies is convinced dat if we'se is in da room, notin' is goin ta get done. So da boys limited da meetin' ta just dose dat was der at da start of da strike. Wait till I get me hands on Blink..." She continued on, lying down on her bunk muttering curses and obscenities to the bed above her.

Maggie slipped off of her bunk and quietly out of the room. She tip toed down the stairs to the second floor landing, pressing her ear against the door. She peaked around the corner once, and was able to glimpse the rest of the members of the house, both female and male, who had not been admitted, organizing what looked to be a long night of poker in the entrance room.

The door was closed, but not very thick, and Maggie crouched down beside it, and listened, she could hear voices in the other room. A rustle behind her caused her to start, but it was only Lacey.

"I want ta find out whata dey are sayin as much as you do." Maggie smiled and squeezed the girl's hand

"Nice ta see yas again Spot," the voice was Jack's, and Maggie heard the unmistakable sound of a spit-shake. She cringed, never understanding the need for the vulgar ritual.

"Likewise Jacky boy, Race, Blink. Boots, hows it rollin?"

The Brooklyn boys and the Manhattan newsies exchanged pleasantries, and then all sat down to handle business.

-------------------------------------------

"So," Jack began, "about da celebration-"

Spot held up a hand. "Hold it Jacky-boy, deh's sometin' else we needs ta covah foist, sometin' impoitant."

Jack gave him a quizzical look, but motioned for him to go on. Spot leaned back in his chair.

"Deys tings bein said Jack, all ovah Brooklyn an odduh places. Folks, deys stahtin' ta tink Jack Kelly can't control his own. No, let me finish foist cowboy, cuz from what I see, its true. I don't know about uddahs, but deah's one newsie in pahticulah dat ye just can't seem ta handle." Spot launched into a description of his various run-ins with Maggie, from the first meeting when she wouldn't pay the toll, to that night on the bridge with Liam.

"Da fact is Jack," he concluded, "you'se lettin a newsie a yoahs run wild, she don't respect no one an some folks ah stahtin ta tink ye can't handle hior."

"Whattah ya want me at do Spot, huh? Da goils gottah mouf, she's gonna run it. I can't be deah all da time ta keep hoir from shootin it off. An she 'andles hoirself, gets hoirself outtah problems. Ya know, da independent type."

"Yeah I know. But deah's a point when it becomes mowah den just a goil shootin' hoir mouf off. Deah's a mattah a respect fo coitan peoples, not da leasta which is me, especially when she's trespasson' in MY territory."

"She woiks deah Spot."

"Yeah? Well maybe she shouldn't."

David snapped his head up at this. "What?"

Spot gave him a look. "You hoid me. It's my job ta look out fow da wellfeah a Brooklyn, an dat goil ain't healthy. She stahts fires, tavan fights, an brings in dese people from all ovah. Dangerous people too Jack. Wheah she goes, trouble follows. I want hoir outta Brooklyn."

"But you can't keep Maggie from goin to O'Connor's, that's like family to her!" Jack gave David a look to shut up.

He turned back to Spot slowly. "So you wan me ta tell Maggie' she ain't allowed ta go inta Brooklyn no mowah?"

Spot nodded. "Unless she's got pomission from me, dat goil stays out."

Jack shook his head, "I dunno Spot, like Davie said, she's got friends ovah deah."

"Den she has ta choose. Eidah she stays a newsie an lives heah, keepin da hell outta my territory, o she woiks in Brooklyn an quits bein' a newsie. She can't be bof."

The ultimatum made several of the boys upset.

"Think about dis foist Jack."

"Dat ain't fair Jack!"

"She's nevah goin ta go foir it Jack!"

"Race, Much, Crutchy, just shut up!" Jack was up to his ears in protesting newsies. He sighed. "Da fact a da mattah is dat Spot has a point." He held up his hand to stop further argument. "As long as Maggie is a newsie heah, an woiks deah, she's undah two different people: me, an Spot. Now, she's supposed ta show respect an all, but fact is, when she's in Brooklyn, she don't considuh hoirself a newsie. An Spot's right, she don't listen, an she don't act how she ought. But maybe if we gave hoiur hoir chance-"

"No more Jacky Boy. Now, I don't want no problems batween youse an Brooklyn. But ya sendin a pretty powahful message by lettin dat tart get away wiv all dis. I don't let my newsies run wild around heah, do I? So alls I'se is askin', is dat you do da same."

The room was silent. Jack looked around at a sea of faces. Race looked worried, Blink looked flabbergasted, David looked angrier than Jack had seen him in a long time, and Crutchy, Crutchy just looked sad and disappointed; as if he already knew what Jack was going to do.

He sighed. "I hate ta do it, but we'se don't have annudah choice. Maggie will 'ave ta choose between bein' a newsie heah, o woiken in Brooklyn." He and Spot sealed the deal with a spit shake.

Specs looked up at Jack, "Should I go get her?"

Jack shook his head. "She ain't back from woik yet. But tell Kloppman ta send hoir in heah as soon as she gets home."

"All right den," Spot's voice again, "Now we can plan dis celebration."

Specs nodded and opened the door, turning and walking downstairs without seeing the back of Maggie's skirt disappear into the third floor bunkroom.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Having sent Lacey on a mission of her own, Maggie walked straight from the door to her bunk, ripping the pillow case off her bed. She jumped down to the floor and knelt in front of the small wooden chest Emma had found to hold their clothes, not that there were many of them. She pulled out another pillow case from it that held her clothes, dumping it on the floor.

She began to sort through the shirts and pants and various other pieces.

"Mine, mine, Sammy dis is yers, mine, Specs's, I tink dese were Mush's, one a you will have ta foind dat out, mine, mine, and ugh, how did sometin' a Race's get inta my bag? I tink dis might be Lacey's." She shoved a vest away from her with her toe. She gathered up the shirt, pair of pants, vest, undershirts, and hat that were hers and shoved them into the pillow case. She went back to her bunk and added to the sack her mother's bible, a brush and comb, and the underwear she kept under her pillow. Although the girls laughed at it, Maggie wanted to be sure she wore her own..

The girls watched the packing frenzy with a mixture of confusion and amusement. Gloria finally put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Mija, are you possessed? What are you doing?"

With constant glances towards the door and in as few words as she could, Maggie explained what she had heard downstairs. The girls were silent. Gloria stared at the pillowcase Maggie had packed.

"So you are leavin? You're going to Brooklyn?"

Maggie actually smiled. "Ta live under da thumb a Spot Conlon fer da rest of me life? I'de rather roast in hell!" That got a smile out of most of the girls, but did not answer the question.

A tap at the window diverted their attention. Lacey stood on the fire escape. "He's here Maggie, come on! Its gettin late!"

Sammy stepped forward. "Maggie, where are ya goin'?"

Maggie ran back to her and gave her a fierce hug. She stepped back and managed a faint smile. "I owe my family a visit."

Lacey was motioning with her arm for Maggie to hurry, but Maggie kept looking around. "Where's Annie?"

Emma piped up, "She's still at the Jacobs', David said it was all right if she stayed the night."

Maggie shook her head, "Well, its sort of on da way, will jest have ta make a detour."

She moved toward the window, where Lacey and Gloria were already pulling Katsy through. Lacey looked impatient. "Emma, come on! We'll explain on the way, but we're in a hurry!"

Emma followed Maggie as she dashed towards the window, down the fire escape, and followed Aiden Murphy into the night.

-----------------------------------------------------

As they ran towards the Jacobs' apartment building Maggie tried to get a few answers out of Aiden.

"What time?"

Aiden, out of breath, had to take a second to speak. "In..a few hours. Yer sure...dat he'll agree to it?"

Maggie nodded. "Patty owed me a favour or two, an he's always offered. Do ya tink he can manage ta get me aboard?"

Aiden laughed. "Patty, manage ta sneak someone on a boat wid him? It's practically a second business fer him. If he wants ta take ya, he'll find a way."

Maggie nodded, and slowed to a walk as the building loomed in sight.

--------------------------------------------------

At about the same time that the girls were halfway down Duane Street, the newsies in conference concluded the discussion about the strike celebration. That was when Jack noted the late hour. Maggie should have been done with work by now, but she hadn't come in yet. He shouted to Specs at his post by the door.

"Hey Specs! Go shout down an see if Maggie's come in yet, will yas?" Specs nodded and trotted out into the hall, shouting down the stairs.

"Hey Kloppy!"

"What is it!"

"Has Maggie come back in yet?"

"You mean she went out again?"

"Huh? What ah youse tawking about? Has she got back from woik yet?"

"Got back? She nevah went ta woik tanite Specs! Yeah, she stepped out foh a bit, but came back before al dose uddah newsies showed up!"

"Yah men she's heah?"

"I can't keep track a all a yas! All I know is she ain't gone back out dat doah since she came in dis aftahnoon! An if ya have anytin else ta say, come down heah an say it yowah wakin da neighbahood!"

Specs came back in the room, scratching his head. "You all heah dat?"

Racetrack smirked. "How could we not? I'll go check upstaihs Cowboy."

The boys waited in the hushed room. They heard Race's footsteps on the stairs and a knock on the door, the hinges creaking open. After that the voices were muffled and there were a few angry shouts, and then a loud BANG as the door was slammed. Race's footsteps came slowly back down the stairs and he entered the room with a look of utter and complete confusion on his face.

"Well?"

Race sat down and lit a cigar. "I don't know what ta tell ya Jack, da goils a dis house has officially gones besoik. Every one of 'em. It's like a blimmin funeral up deah, none of em tawkin, walkin around lookin like deys ready ta cry, almost took me head off fowah askin about Irish."

Jack was getting impatient. "So where is she?"

Race shook his head. "She ain't deah Jack. No big suhprise, da goil scrambles all ovah da fire escape like a monkey anyway."

"Well did ya ask weah she went? Did Lacey know, o Gloria?"

Race shook his head again. "Dey ain't deah eithah. Its just Sammy, Smudges, Cinders an a few a da youngah goils up deah. No Irish, Italians, Puertah Ricans, Yugamaslavinians owah whateveh Kats is from. An Emma an Annie ain't deah ivah. An dey ain't downstaihs, I looked"

David commented absent mindedly, "No, Annie's at my place."

"Yeah, Sammy mentioned sometin about dems goin deah foist."

"An wheah ah deys goin second?"

Race shrugged. "Beats da hell outta me... But, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Ya don't tink deahs anyway Maggie knew about dis, is theah?"

"No, why?"

"Well, den maybe it all woiks out, maybe not. But, uh, I don't tink she's comin back Jack. Evah."

All heads in the room snapped towards Race. David spoke first. "What do you mean?"

"Its just, well, all hoir stuff is gone. Even hoir pillow case. An da sheets is all bundled up on hoir bed. Hoir clothes ain't lyin around like usual, even hoir hat's not on da peg. Looks like she packed up an left."

Jack didn't understand. "But wheah would she go? Anyone gots an idea? David?"

But David was already gone.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"No! I don't understand! Why can't you stay here?" Annie wasn't taking the news well. She had leaped up from her seat next to Maggie on the street outside the Jacobs' apartment and was shouting, her voice trembling with unshed tears.

Maggie sighed. "It's not dat I don't want ta girl, but I can't choose between you an' my family in Brooklyn. It wouldn't be fair ta anyone. Dis is da only way."

Annie quieted, and turned to her with a pout. "When will you come back?"

"I don't know lass. Dat depends on a lot of tings: my family back home, Patty, an most of all, how long it takes Jack an Spot ta werk dis out."

Annie's face clouded with anger. "Why is he doing this? He's being mean! It's not fair! I hate Jack and Spot!"

Maggie caught her arm. "Annie, look at me. Stop dat right now. Ye don't mean dat."

"But-"

Maggie shook her head. "Both of dem tot dey were doin' sometin' right. Neither one told me ta leave like dis, dat was my own choice. I have ta do it because dey don't understand, an dey won't untill I farce dem to, an dis is de only way. Its not forever dear."

A tear started to roll down Annie's cheek. "But what if you never come back? What if you forget about us?"

Maggie caught her in a fierce hug. "How can ye say dat girl? I could never ferget about any of you. Yer my family."

"But your going back to your family, your real family."

Maggie brushed the tears from her cheek. "Listen to me now girl. You an da girls have ben with me an ben my whole world for far longer den my family in Ireland was. Yer no less impartant den dey are." Maggie paused for a minute and reached into her pocket with one hand and untied the ribbon from Annie's hair with the other. She pulled out her father's pocket watch, and unhooked it from the tarnished golden chain. She then took the chain and wrapped it around Annie's wrist several times, and hooked the ends together, making a bracelet. Then she tied the blue ribbon to the loop on the watch, an the other end to the button hole in her coat.

"Now, see dat? Ye know how I always 'av ta know da time?" Annie sniffed and nodded. "Well, now every time I pull out da watch, I'll see yer ribbon, an I'll remember, jest in case I fergot, dat I 'av a family waitin' fer me right here. How's dat?"

Annie managed a smile. Aiden was raising his eyebrows at Maggie, indicating that they needed to go. Maggie nodded, and gave Annie one last big hug, before handing her over to Lacey.

"Take care of yerselves."

"You too love."

Aiden cleared his throat. "I ah, hate ta break dis up, but we need ta go, an where were goin', well, if I take all of ye I'll be shot and den-"

"We understand Aiden, its all right." Emma smiled a bit and all of the girls gave Maggie their farewells. Maggie backed away slowly before Aiden tugged on her hand and pulled her away.

-----------------------------------

David watched as Maggie disappeared down the street in front of him. He raced after her, not stopping as he passed the pack of girls who were so upset by the situation itself they didn't even see him.

David trailed Maggie down a few streets and alleys before coming within shouting distance.

At the sound of her name Maggie wheeled around. "David? What are ya doin'?"

"I," David panted, "could ask you the same thing. Where are you going?"

Maggie sighed and gave Aiden a look, he understood, backing away, but raising his eyebrows to give Maggie the message that they didn't have time for this.

Maggie gave David a pained look, she hadn't wanted to see him, this was too hard. "I herd wot Jack was plannin David, ye must have known I could never agree ta dat."

"So you're going to Brooklyn! You're just going to-"

"Why does no one realize dat I'de sooner roast in hell! Of carse I'm not goin' ta Brooklyn, I couldn't leave da girls anymore den I could leave Douglas." She paused, David waited expectantly.

"I owe my family a visit." David gave her a blank look, not comprehending, she went on. "Patty's gettin out. It's too hot fer him right now, probably dat triple homicide dat was in da papers a few weeks ago. He's got ta get out soon, an he's always offered ta take me along, he promised me da he'd look out fer me. So I'm goin with him."

David shook his head slowly, not wanting to believe it. "To Ireland?"

Maggie nodded.

David was confused and angry and sad all at once. "What, so you're just going to give up? You can't choose which family to abandon so you're going to abandon them both, is that it?"

Now Maggie's back was up, her voice grew louder. "I'm not abandoning anyone! Dis is de only way der's still a possibility tings could eventually go on as befar! Jesus, I tot you of all people would understand!" She turned away from him, storming to the other side of the street and sitting down on the curb, her forehead in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

Maggie was near tears, and David saw for the first time in her face the strain all this was taking on her. He calmed himself, and sat down beside her, a hand on her back. Maggie went on.

"It's like I said, Patty's always offered ta take me when he goes back, but I never could. I couldn't leave da girls da way we were, livin' on da streets, never knowin' where a meal was coming from, if Annie'de get sick or we'de have ta move to a new sleepin' spot dat night. But de're taken care of now. Dey have a home, and friends. Fer da first time Annie's got support an roots dat don't come from us. She's got da girls an Les an Crutchy an Boots an Snipes an Mush an doh I hate ta say it, even Race ta take care of her. De're goin' ta be fine, an I know right where ta find dem.

"An Douglas is all right too. We've got new people comin' ta help him. Liam's a big fine lad dat will do a warld of good. An I gave Aiden da names a some Blackpool garls dat wouldn't mind fillin' in fer me. I've made sure dey'de be all right"

David spoke up softly. "But why go to Ireland, I mean, I'm sure Patty could find you a place right in the city to hide out for a while."

Maggie shook her head. "I wish it were dat simple, but its not. Do ye tink, if it was possible ta do it, dat I wouldn't sneak inta Brooklyn an Manhattan? I couldn't help it. An even if I didn't, da girls would. We're a family, an wherever I go, they'll follow. I'de do da same ting fer one of dem, we stick tagether. An I don't want dem ta do dat. Dey have a home now an I won't let dem leave it, dey've earned it...we've earned it......An dat's why I've got ta go somewhere dey won't be able ta follow me."

She looked up at him and David could see the pain etched in her face. He hated to see it, but it was that look more than anything that made him understand why she had to do this.

Maggie could feel her eyes brimming with tears. Damnit she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry, not till she was alone. That was part of the reason she'd tried to avoid seeing David at all. She should leave now, before anything was done or said that could make her change her mind. She sighed, but it came out as more of a choked sob and she leaped to her feet at David's look, turning away.

"David, I'm sorry, I wish..."

There was a hand on her back, David slowly turned her to face him. He wiped the tear that had slid down her cheek away with one finger, slowly tracing her jaw line.

"Don't be sorry, this isn't your fault, it's not anyone's fault it's just..." His voice trailed away, he couldn't define the situation either.

"Hopeless, dats what it'tis," Maggie said in a small voice. David's head snapped up, he took her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't say that, not you, not ever, do you hear me? I don't ever wanna hear you say that again."

Maggie was taken aback by the fierce tone of his voice, and she studied his face, for the first time seeing clearly exactly how he felt, about the situation, her, everything.

David saw the solemn look on her face and regretted his strong words. A little less sure of himself, he tilted his head and peaked down at her. "I mean, it can't be hopeless, you're coming back someday, aren't you?"

Maggie was looking away, and didn't answer right away. David took both her hands in his gripping them just a little too tight. His voice was strained. "Maggie? I need you to promise you'll come back...I mean, there has to be another boat sometim-"

Maggie cut him off, looking up with a small, half smile on her face.

"Ta hell wid dat. If ye promise ta be here, no matter what Jack says, I'll swim."

David grinned. "Its a deal." Acting on instinct, he moved to spit shake, and Maggie put a hand on his arm. She looked him dead in the eye and in a flat, serious tone, warned, "Don't do that, don't ever do that. Anytin' but dat."

David looked down at his hand, and lowered his arm, but he pulled his head up with a smile on his face. "Anything?"

That was when he kissed her, quickly, before he lost the courage or she pulled away. But she didn't. She slipped her arms around his neck as he held her about the waist, neither wanting to let go of the other.

When they finally broke from the kiss Maggie wrapped her arms more tightly around David's neck and buried her head in his shoulder. David held her tightly with one hand on her back, using the other to stroke her hair, rocking her gently.

"What am I supposed ta do without you," she said into his shoulder, her voice strained from holding back tears.

David gave a shaky laugh, "Oh, I'm sure you'll find plenty of places to burn down." Maggie punched him in the shoulder. David feigned pain, "and people to beat up."

"Bastard." Maggie managed a laugh.

"And insult."

"Ah, but none will be half so pleasant to maim and slander as you."

"It's nice to know I have my uses."

"A few, yes." Maggie kissed him again. Aiden coughed politely and shifted uncomfortably. Maggie sighed, knowing she had to go, and began to pull away.

David pulled her back sharply, staring down at her. "Promise me you'll come back, no matter what, you'll be back."

The pain and uncertainty in his eyes cut Maggie to the quick. She forced a smile. "Ye know me, I'm like a bad penny, I'll always turn up." That earned a smile, and on tiptoe she leaned her forehead against David's, "An when I do, I promise ye'll be da first ta know."

After David kissed her one last time, she broke away. She backed away slowly, her eyes locked on David's, then turned and dashed down the street after Aiden. David watched them until they were out of sight.

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"Whatta ya mean she's gone home? Dis is hoir home!"

Jack was frustrated, the night had not gone at all as he had planned. Spot had left, but a runner from Brooklyn had informed a Manhattan scout that Maggie wasn't in Spot's turf, and the scout had relayed the message to Jack. At the moment, Jack was facing a line-up of Emma, Lacey, Gloria, Kats, Annie, Sammy, Smudges, Cinders, Ace, and a large portion of the remaining female Manhattan lodgers. None were smiling, and if Lacey's look could kill, Jack would have died a thousand deaths. She stepped forward.

"She told us you a knew all about dis. Dat she told you days ago exactly what would happen if you did dis, where she would go. You knew she'd leave an you did it anyway."

Lacey followed her angry accusation with a mumbled curse in Italian, and returned to her place at Gloria's side.

Jack held up both hands. "Hey! I didn't know about any a dis. How was I supposed ta know Maggie was tellin' da trufe? Anyways, we didn't make her leave, she had a choice."

"Some choice Jack," was all Sammy would say.

She turned on her heel and left the room, the rest of the girls following her. The several sets of eyes dark with anger burned into Jack's as they left the room, with the notable exception of Annie, who wasn't angry, or crying, but had a sad look of confusion and betrayal that didn't fit in her small face. She was ushered out of the room by Emma, whom the boys had never seen angry before. Lacey's angry face was the last image as she closed the door behind her.

Jack exhaled and looked around. "So whatta ya guys think we should do?"

Mush leaned back in his chair. "I think you and Spot might need to re-organize your stratagya little Jack."

Blink nodded. "If she really has gone to Ireland Jack, you'de better hope she comes back real quick, and judging from the look Lacey just gave you, I wouldn't sleep too heavy till she does."

Race puffed on his cigar. "Damn, ya think dis is gonna ruin my chances wiv Lacey?"

Crutchy smacked him in the head.

"Hey, somebody's gotta put on a brave face and carry on," Race gave a devilish grin, "no mattah how hahd it is ta cope wid our little loss and help relieve Lacey of da same pain, I'll considah it an honah, ta do it fowah da good a dah house."

Crutchy shook his head. "You keep that whole business ta yourself Race," he gave Jack a look, "Jack's got bigger problems."

--------------------------------------------------

It was dark, and cold, and wet. Maggie's fingers curled around the iron railing on the deck of the cargo ship. It wasn't a palace, but it would get her into Dublin with no hassles. The wind was picking up and Maggie heard the sailors talking of rain. Perfect, just what she needed.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Missin' it already are ya?"

She knew it was Patty before he spoke, and reached up with her right hand to cover the hand on her left shoulder. The ship lurched and she grabbed the rail, and steadied herself.

"I hate boats, I hate traveling, and I hate da bloody narth Atlantic. Can't ye just knock me out an wake me up when we dock?"

Patty chuckled. "Ye jest need a day or two ta get yer sea legs, den you'll be fine. An ye haven't answered me question."

"I tot de answer was obvious."

Patty tilted his head and looked at her hard, searching her face. He had a puzzled expression, as if he had just realized something.

"How could I of all people miss ye fallin' in love wiv somebody over der?"

Maggie managed a tight smile. "Ye've been busy."

Patty looked at her sadly, then put an arm around her back and led her towards the stairs. "Well, I'm never too busy ta lend an ear, a shoulder, an a clean sleeve. So why don't we get inside an ye can let out dat belly full of tears I know ye've been hidin' from da warld since dis all started."

"Ye know me too well Patty."

Patty opened the door, ushering her in with a hand on her back. "Yer jest like yer father, O'Rourke stubbornness, its hereditary."

"Kind of like O'Brien's an felonies?" Despite her laughter, Maggie was starting to break and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Hey, watch yerself girl, or first ting I do when we get back here is make it known to da warld dat inside dis leathery hide full of piss an vinegar der's a sensitive, scared little garl whose got a brain full o' shoe polish."

Maggie punched him in the back, but part of the insult comforted her.

"When we get back..."

She turned back for a moment, and watched the twinkling lights of the city fade away. She smiled to herself, she'd be back all right.