AN: This is my fanfic….um…disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Newsies, Disney does, so please don't sue me…..I do however own Maniac, so don't steal her or I'll get the FBI to hunt you down. Please read and review. Oh yeah, I own some of the other characters such as Starstruck so don't steal them either. Ok byebye now. R&R! Please! Now read! The send me FB! Go! Now! Stop reading this! Read the story!
If You Play With Fire, You Won't Always Get Burnt
By: Maniac Conlon
Rated: PG-13 for language and maybe later something else, I dunno.
Read and Review!
"C'mon Maniac, where you writing again? You just got ink stains on my shirt," complained Starstruck. Maniac gulped when she saw the hand print of ink she had made when she had put her hand on Star's shoulder. Then she shrugged.
"You'll get over it," Maniac said. She looked at her hands though. Newsprint and ink. There was always newsprint and ink on her hands. She shrugged again. She picked up her hardcover notebook, one of her favorite possessions, and her pen and continued writing what she fondly referred to as her book. She let NO ONE read it, and had almost lit Drac's hands on fire one time. She had major ink stains on her hands because she like to run her hand over the page when she was done with it, goodness knows why, and because she was left handed. That didn't help much, considering she had to drag her hand across the paper when she wrote.
"PYROMANIAC!?!?!?!?! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" she heard Spot call her name from the bottom of the steps. She smiled and made one of her famous smart-ass comments before she left.
"Duty calls," she commented as she slipped off of her top bunk and made her way through the fairly crowded room. She took the less traveled stair case of the 2 in the Brooklyn lodging house, silently, as she always walked, not mouth-wise, but footsteps-wise. She didn't know how to shut her big mouth. Spot was standing at the base of the other staircase, and was about to yell for her again. She slipped up behind him.
"PYROMAN----" he was cut off as Maniac slipped her hand over his mouth. He attempted whirling around, but it didn't exactly work, and Maniac and Spot both ended up on the ground. Maniac didn't mind this at all. She had had a crush on Spot ever since she had come to stay and the lodging house and be a newsie. Although she did have a crush on him, they still managed to argue, but she managed to keep her sarcasm and cool.
Maniac started laughing and she couldn't stop. Spot just lay there on the floor and looked at her. She was laughing uncontrollably, her small frame shaking with her laughter. Spot started laughing just from watching her, and they were both on the ground laughing their heads off for a good while until Gunther walked through the door.
Gunther pointed at Maniac and Spot immediately jumped up off the floor, dragging Maniac up with him. Spot cleared his throat. "Umm.…yeah. Maniac, why'd ya light Gunther on fire?" Not that he minded, he didn't like Gunther too much, but he had a soft spot (no pun intended) for Maniac.
"He was bothering me," Maniac said innocently, "Is there something wrong with defending myself?"
Spot just shook his head, this girl. She was something completely different. Something he didn't mind. Despite the fact that she could out argue him. He was afraid of her. Not that he would admit it, heck no, he was Spot Conlon. He just didn't want to get set on fire.
If You Play With Fire, You Won't Always Get Burnt
By: Maniac Conlon
Rated: PG-13 for language and maybe later something else, I dunno.
Read and Review!
"C'mon Maniac, where you writing again? You just got ink stains on my shirt," complained Starstruck. Maniac gulped when she saw the hand print of ink she had made when she had put her hand on Star's shoulder. Then she shrugged.
"You'll get over it," Maniac said. She looked at her hands though. Newsprint and ink. There was always newsprint and ink on her hands. She shrugged again. She picked up her hardcover notebook, one of her favorite possessions, and her pen and continued writing what she fondly referred to as her book. She let NO ONE read it, and had almost lit Drac's hands on fire one time. She had major ink stains on her hands because she like to run her hand over the page when she was done with it, goodness knows why, and because she was left handed. That didn't help much, considering she had to drag her hand across the paper when she wrote.
"PYROMANIAC!?!?!?!?! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" she heard Spot call her name from the bottom of the steps. She smiled and made one of her famous smart-ass comments before she left.
"Duty calls," she commented as she slipped off of her top bunk and made her way through the fairly crowded room. She took the less traveled stair case of the 2 in the Brooklyn lodging house, silently, as she always walked, not mouth-wise, but footsteps-wise. She didn't know how to shut her big mouth. Spot was standing at the base of the other staircase, and was about to yell for her again. She slipped up behind him.
"PYROMAN----" he was cut off as Maniac slipped her hand over his mouth. He attempted whirling around, but it didn't exactly work, and Maniac and Spot both ended up on the ground. Maniac didn't mind this at all. She had had a crush on Spot ever since she had come to stay and the lodging house and be a newsie. Although she did have a crush on him, they still managed to argue, but she managed to keep her sarcasm and cool.
Maniac started laughing and she couldn't stop. Spot just lay there on the floor and looked at her. She was laughing uncontrollably, her small frame shaking with her laughter. Spot started laughing just from watching her, and they were both on the ground laughing their heads off for a good while until Gunther walked through the door.
Gunther pointed at Maniac and Spot immediately jumped up off the floor, dragging Maniac up with him. Spot cleared his throat. "Umm.…yeah. Maniac, why'd ya light Gunther on fire?" Not that he minded, he didn't like Gunther too much, but he had a soft spot (no pun intended) for Maniac.
"He was bothering me," Maniac said innocently, "Is there something wrong with defending myself?"
Spot just shook his head, this girl. She was something completely different. Something he didn't mind. Despite the fact that she could out argue him. He was afraid of her. Not that he would admit it, heck no, he was Spot Conlon. He just didn't want to get set on fire.