A/N: This takes place a few years after the strike. And this is two peoples point of view; my OC's and Spots.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Newsies. Dur.

Sleeping has never been a problem for me. I can sleep anywhere. The street, the curb, standing, sitting, night, day; it doesn't matter. Sleeping has always been my very best friend. Not only because I feel better after a good night sleep, but also because I dream.

I don't dream in black and white but in every color. I see things I'll never get to see, meet people I'll never meet, and become what I've always wanted to be. I've been out West a few times and struck gold, I've seen the Eiffel tower, and I've met the Pres. of the USA! But my favorite dream is one when I'm on stage and the lights are shining on me big and bright. I hear the roar of the crowd as I come out for my curtain call as my adoring public throws roses at my feet. Sounds corny, I know, but every kids gotta have a dream right? Or what we living for anyways? But as they say, what goes up must come down. You always gotta wake up.

This morning wasn't too bad; at least I knew where I was today. I was used to the smallest bedroom upstairs that I shared with my older sister until recently. My throat grew tight while I thought about her; Henry was dead. And I was alone. We had only hitched a ride from Philly a few months ago but it seemed like a lifetime. It was her idea to come to New York. She said there was nothing for us in Philly but bad memories and that we needed to start over fresh. We lived here together for around a month and then she got sick. We didn't have any money for a doc so we ended up doing the unthinkable; my now constant worry.

I pushed that thought out of my mind as I looked around my dingy room. It really wasn't much of a room to tell you the truth. It was more like a small cupboard beneath the stairs, but at least I had it to myself. I sat up and bumped my head on the stairs above my head and cussed loudly; everything about this place sucked! I have to share a bathroom with the whole house for one and believe me that's torture enough! Plus, one the pipes from the bathroom runs through my 'room' and it's leaking. I pays my landlord a good $5 a month and he can't even fix the pipe dripping on my head! And we don't even get food here besides a cup of cold porridge in the mornings which is worse than prison food. And that is a le fact as the Frenchies say. But it's the best I can afford as of now.

I yawn as I grabbed my britches and pulled them on; this was always a bit difficult in such a cramped space. Because of my trunk of assorted clothing and props that Momma left me from her acting days, I didn't have much room for myself. But these clothes were the way I made my living and kept myself safe. Pickpockets are not usually looked on favorably, so having a few disguises never hurt. I took out Momma's prop mirror and peered at my reflection. For some unknown reason I was born with one blue and one green eye, although both my parents and my sister had brown. I quickly brushed my wavy blonde hair and tucked it into a hat, pieces falling out every which way. If I was going to pass as a boy any longer I'd have to get my hair cut short; maybe I could put my 'Damsel in blue' act away until winter, then grow my hair out then? I groaned tucking randoms pieces of my hair into my cap; if I had just been born a boy like Daddy had wanted then I wouldn't be having this problem. I grimaced at my reflection, then put away Momma's mirror and opened my door. The clock in the hallway said it was 6am, perfect time to try and nick some food.

"Mr. Smalls!" came a rough voice at the end of the hallway. I turned and saw my landlord walking towards me, his cane in hand. "Rent is due by sunset, you know, or you're out on the street again!"

I quickly adopted a deeper voice assuring Mr. Finley that the money would be in his hands by tonight. I tipped my hat then ran out the door into the morning.

Walking down the streets of New York is nothing like anything you've ever seen. The people running around just look like a bunch of ants, busy and never having a moment to rest. I casually strolled by the produce in the street market, stealing an apple without being noticed. I rubbed it on my shirt for a moment then took a bite; nothing tastes a sweet as when you steal something off the streets. I wiped my face as I threw my apple core to a stray dog and walked towards the paper distribution center. Newsies from all over the Bronx were grabbing their papes and yelling "Extra! Extra!" at the top of their lungs. I chuckled as I watched them sell Pulitzer and Hurst's lies, but if the Newsies made money that meant I'd make money. And making money was what I was after.

"We got a problem in the Bronx that we think all Newsies should know about." Remi started as he faced the other Newsies leaders. "Some goil in our territory is stealing all our hard earned money and you guys may be next!"

A low murmur was heard around the council until I spoke up. "Well then take care of her, Remi! I don't see the big deal! It's just one foil!"

"Well Mr. Conlon," he started, shaking slightly, "we can't catch her. She fast as a bullet and has a bunch of different disguises. One day she's dressed as a Newsie, the next a young lady in blue, then the following week she's got a mustache for Chrissakes!"

"How do you know it's the same goil?" Jack Kelly asked, lighting a cigarette.

"All of our Newsies accounts of her are the same. These characters are always blonde, have one green eye and one blue eye, and appear around the same time of the day."

"Oi wait!" Ernie said holding up his hand. "A goil with one blue eye and one green eye? Some of my boys in Queens have been complaining about her too! Except she hustles them at poker in the pub. First time I saw her she comes in dressed as a boy with a British accent and says he's never heard of the game. So of course me and my boys think we can make a quick buck and puts our money down on the table; this guy wins every hand! Then one night one my boys got so mad he hits off this guys hat and what you know! Waves of blonde hair falls across her face. We were all so shocked we didn't say a word! Then she grabs the money, blows us a kiss, and is gone out the door! I ain't never seen nothing like it!"

"Any similar stories?" I asked after a moment of reflection.

"Some of my boys have gotten pick pocketed pretty recently but no one saw the face, it was always at night." Melzer answered for Stanton Island.

I rested my head on my cane and closed my eyes thinking. "Well, obviously we just gotta travel in packs for now. And keep your eyes peeled and your pockets empty! I don't want no goil getting the best of the Newsies!"

The others murmured their agreement and the meeting was adjourned. I rubbed my back and groaned getting up; I was getting too old for this. I was coming up on my 18th birthday and was still the toughest and most well respected Newsie in all New York, but it sure did take a beating on my back. Jack slapped me on the shoulder as we waved goodbye to our friends and started back towards the West side of town.

"So hows Sarah doing?" I asked as we walked.

"She's doing fine, baby is almost due." he answered with a small smile.

"You scared Jacky Boy?"

"A little." he answered kicking up the dust in the road, "But I think it will be an adventure worth having."

We walked in silence for a few more minutes then I asked about his job hunt. He groaned. "It's not going so well. I thought I might of had a chance at that butcher's shop but that all came to nothing. It's really starting to worry Sarah. I mean, being a Newsie is fine for when its just yourself you looking after, but not with a family on the way."

"You still hoping to go to Santa Fe?"

Cowboy grinned and laughed a little. "Sure, but that's a long term dream now. But someday I'll get there." He stopped and turned towards me with an expression of pure seriousness. "Spot, who do you think I should be putting as the new leader of the Newsies if I do by chance find a better job? I was thinking Davey at first but you know he's working in the factories now. Maybe Racetrack? Or Kid Blink?"

"Nah," I answered sticking my hands in my pockets. "I'd say Les to be honest with ya. He may be only 13 but man that boy can fight! And he's a great leader, ya know?"

Jack grinned at me. "You want Les to be my predecessor because he reminds you of yourself back in the day, huh Spot?"

I grinned. "Yeah, maybe a little."

After an hour or so of chatting we finally reached Jack's one bedroom apartment and we parted ways. A few more minutes passed by of me just thinking when all of a sudden I see a shadowed figure at the end of the street. The figure said nothing but then suddenly ran at me full speed and grabbed my cane, the light from a nearby street light illuminating her face. All I saw was one blue eye and one green eye. Then she ran down a narrow alley between two buildings and was out of sight. I cursed loudly and ran after her, trying my best to keep up. Ernie was right, she was like a bullet! Finally I gave up exhausted. I couldn't believe I had been robbed by some foil, this was personal now. But how was I gonna find this bitch, and who the hell was she!

OK that's the first Chapter. Please review guys, even if you just browsed it. Feedback is always fab and encouraging. I'll try and update soon!