Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Newises. Disney does (
But I do own Katherine 'Kit' O'Connell.
Chapter 1
The sun rises in a blaze of red and gold light, shining off the sides of the slick glass buildings on the East River. It's another day of work for the newsies of New York.
The sun penetrates the high windows of the Manhattan newsboys' Lodging house as Kloppman, the owner of the house, starts to wake the boys up.
"Get up! Get up!"
Katherine O'Connell rolls over in her bed trying to ignore the voice of Jack Kelley in her ear, and his hands on her shoulders gently shaking her awake.
"Up and 'at 'em, sunshoine," he smiles as he watches her roll over to get away from him.
"Not taday Jacky-boy, not taday!" Kit grabs a pillow and hits him in the side of the head with it.
Jack pulls her from her bed and stands her up, "ya gotta woik at Tibby's taday, remembah?"
Kit groans as he heaves her from her bed and reminds her of work, "Why me Jack, why me?" She pulls on a white cotton button up shirt over her undershirt and smiles darkly at Jack.
He chuckles as he pushes her towards the washroom. Damn, but if she ain't the prettiest girl in all of New Yoik.Jack quickly stops these thoughts. Every other boy in New York wanted a piece of Kit O'Connell, in some way or another.
Kit walks into the washroom, her eyes dark with lack of sleep and annoyance, as she pulls her hair up and ties it in place with a piece of old cotton t-shirt. She nods recognition to all the "Good moinin's" coming from the boys. Many of them ask how she slept and how she was feeling. She smiles softly to all the boys and watches Racetrack Higgins make his way over to her, a cigar in his mouth and a smile playing about his lips.
"How many papes dis moinin' Kit?" Race was known for his addiction to gambling at the racetrack.
"None, Race," she grumbles out, "I'se woikin' at Tibby's taday." This statement seems to darken her foul mood as she slumps over to an empty sink. "Deah me." Is all that she can say as she looks at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. Her chocolate curls piled on the top of her head makes her smile even more as she leans over the basin and washes her face.
Kit walks back in to the bunkroom; her drab skirt held up to her knees by her left hand and her black scuffed up boots in her right. "Moinin' Jack" she smiles as she greets her friend. "How'd ya sleep?"
Jack looks at her with deep interest as she saunters into the room, her skirt above her knees and a smile that he knows not many people have seen before. The kind of smile that starts in her eyes and ends up in the attractive deep dimple in her left cheek. As she walks over to the bunk next to his, she drops her boots to the floor with a loud 'thunk'. Jack watches her as she pulls her hair down from the untidy ponytail on the top her head and begins to braid one side of the curtain of curls into a French braid. He watches her sapphire eyes, glittering as if they were real sapphires, as she rambles on to him about nothing in particular, Her small nose and full red lips bringing out her large eyes and pale but constantly flushed complexion. What am I t'inking? This is Kit we're toilking about, Kit O'Connell-da little nine year old that Blink drugged in from da rain, when we was 9. Her voice quickly pulls him from his thoughts. She has just finished one braid and is starting on the other when she looks up and sees Jack staring at her.
"Jack. Are you listenin' ta me? Are ya feelin ok, Jacky-boy?" she knows what's going on in his mind but she decides to play dumb. She knew it would happen sooner or later. Though she preferred later, much later.
"Have you eva known me ta be sick on a sellin dey?" he smiles and places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "C'mon, I'll walk ya ta Tibby's"
Kit buttons up her shirt and tucks it into her drab gray skirt, then takes up step with Jack as they walk to Tibby's together.
***
It had been a long day at the restaurant. She had seen most of the boys from the Lodging house, a few from Brooklyn and a few from the Bronx. She made her famous brownies and vanilla ice cream today and sold out at lunch. It has been a good day. Kit is about to close up when a gang of newsies from Queens steps into the restaurant.
"Can I help ya boys?"
"Yeah," the boy, who she assumed was the leader, steps forward to stand directly in front of her. Too close for comfort, actually, "we'se lookin' for Kit O'Connell, you seen 'im?"
"No sorry boys, sure haven't"
The leader just smiles a very crooked smile and runs a dirty hand down her arm, resting it on the curve of her hip, "You eva t'ink of movin' ta Queens, Dollface? You'd be treated loik a queen."
"Me home is heah. Sorry boys but I would rat'er move ta Brooklyn and deal wit' Spot Conlon before I moved ta Queens wit' da loiks of you'se."
She throws him a cheeky smile and slaps his hands away, trying to push past him. His arm encircles her waist and he pulls her to him, "where ya goin' dollface?" he begins to nuzzle her neck when three pairs of hands grab the boy by his shoulders and toss him out onto the street. Kit would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been for a strong arm catching her about the waist and pulling her to its owner's side. In front of her stood Kid Blink, Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelley, Mush, and Skittery. She looked to her right, at the owner of the arm that kept her from falling. He was a handsome young man with dirty blonde hair and ice blue eyes. He isn't that tall but she's so short that he is taller than her. She knows she's seen him somewhere but can't think of where. His face is expressionless and she can't tell what he's thinking. Suddenly he opens his mouth to speak.
"It alroight if I stay in Manhattan ta noight Jacky-boy?"
Wait a minute! Jacky-boy was her name for Jack. Who did this strange guy think he was calling Jack by the nickname she gave him?!
She looks at Jack and then at the stranger. Angered, she puts her hand on her hip, surprised to find his hand still there. She slaps his hand and looks back at Jack, puzzled by his strange attitude. Jack wasn't doing anything about this stranger's hands being around her waist. Jack smiles, "Sure Spot, I don' mind. We'se got plenty of bunks."
Race, Blink, Mush and Skittery are eyeing Spot's hand on Kit's waist but Spot didn't seem to notice. "You'se 'kay Sweets?" Race finally speaks up, his voice shaking with concern. Mush, Blink and Skittery, all nod in agreement saying almost simultaneously, "Yeah, Sweets, you'se 'kay?"
She slaps Spot's hand away and smiles at the boys just standing there, "T'ank you deahs" Kit smiles, the dimple deep in her cheek, as she saunters out of the restaurant, purposefully swaying her hips. She turns to look at the boys, their mouths hanging open "you'se comin' boys?" She chuckles as they all remove their hats and walk by her, smiling. Spot stops in front of her, smiles smugly, places a hand on the small of her back and leans down placing a hard kiss on her lips. She shoves him away from her, locks the door, shoves the key in her pocket, and walks away fuming with anger.
***
Spot walks into the bunkroom of the Manhattan lodging house with Jack. Sweets had disappeared right after she locked up Tibby's. Spot smirks at the thought of kissing her again. When he kissed her though he felt something he had never felt before. Like static shock that traveled through his entire body. He shakes the thought out of his head as he walks into the noisy bunkroom. ***
Kit walks into the Lodging house and signs in, paying her five cents. Blue fire is still burning in her eyes, furious over what Spot Conlon had done to her. Spot Conlon for God's sake. The leadah of Brooklyn had kissed her. Correction: the leadah of Brooklyn had kissed Sweets, da bak'ry goil. She frowns and walks into the loud bunkroom, grabbing a pair of pants from her bed and discarding the cotton shirt in a few seconds. Leaving her standing in her sleeveless scoop-neck undershirt and her gray skirt.
"Hey Kit, how was da cookin' taday?" Blink smiles at her and leans on her bedpost.
"Kid Blink, were you'se not dere? I made brownies and vanilla ice cream. Your fav'rite." Smiles and shakes her head, "I'm sorry you missed it."
Kit laughs softly at Blink's sudden darkened mood and whispers so that no one can hear her, "Come by ta morra and I'll see if I got any left. I know I got some ice cream." Kit winks and walks into the washroom to change into her pants and out of her skirt. Her good mood is back and she just wants to settle down for the night. Just more work at Tibby's tomorrow.
She walks out of the washroom wearing tawny brown pants and faded blue suspenders with her thin undershirt. She's putting her hair up into the usual, untidy ponytail on the top of her head when she sees him. Spot Conlon standing by her bed, with his arms crossed across his chest, talking to Jack. Before he sees her she shoves her hat on her head, tucks the stray locks of hair underneath, and puts on her poker face: expressionless.
Spot looks at Kit O'Connell, Kit smirks and spit shakes with him.
"Da name's Kit. And you'se would be?"
"Uh.uh.s-s-Spot Conlon - leadah of da Brooklyn newsies. Hoid of me?"
"No" Kit finds amusement in his stuttering. The boys in the bunkroom burst into laughter as Jack walks in and drapes his arm over Kit's shoulder, not even noticing Spot.
"So Kit, how many ta morra? 100?" Jack laughs a little and then turns to Spot, finally noticing him, "hey Spot, you'se met Kit yet?"
Spot nods and scowls. Kit looks at him with a smirk.
"Lights out boys!" Kloppman climbs the stairs to the bunkroom and begins to turn lights out. Kit lies down on her bed and sighs. Spot climbs onto the bunk above hers. She shakes her head, her hair still in her ponytail, and drifts off to sleep.
Chapter 1
The sun rises in a blaze of red and gold light, shining off the sides of the slick glass buildings on the East River. It's another day of work for the newsies of New York.
The sun penetrates the high windows of the Manhattan newsboys' Lodging house as Kloppman, the owner of the house, starts to wake the boys up.
"Get up! Get up!"
Katherine O'Connell rolls over in her bed trying to ignore the voice of Jack Kelley in her ear, and his hands on her shoulders gently shaking her awake.
"Up and 'at 'em, sunshoine," he smiles as he watches her roll over to get away from him.
"Not taday Jacky-boy, not taday!" Kit grabs a pillow and hits him in the side of the head with it.
Jack pulls her from her bed and stands her up, "ya gotta woik at Tibby's taday, remembah?"
Kit groans as he heaves her from her bed and reminds her of work, "Why me Jack, why me?" She pulls on a white cotton button up shirt over her undershirt and smiles darkly at Jack.
He chuckles as he pushes her towards the washroom. Damn, but if she ain't the prettiest girl in all of New Yoik.Jack quickly stops these thoughts. Every other boy in New York wanted a piece of Kit O'Connell, in some way or another.
Kit walks into the washroom, her eyes dark with lack of sleep and annoyance, as she pulls her hair up and ties it in place with a piece of old cotton t-shirt. She nods recognition to all the "Good moinin's" coming from the boys. Many of them ask how she slept and how she was feeling. She smiles softly to all the boys and watches Racetrack Higgins make his way over to her, a cigar in his mouth and a smile playing about his lips.
"How many papes dis moinin' Kit?" Race was known for his addiction to gambling at the racetrack.
"None, Race," she grumbles out, "I'se woikin' at Tibby's taday." This statement seems to darken her foul mood as she slumps over to an empty sink. "Deah me." Is all that she can say as she looks at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. Her chocolate curls piled on the top of her head makes her smile even more as she leans over the basin and washes her face.
Kit walks back in to the bunkroom; her drab skirt held up to her knees by her left hand and her black scuffed up boots in her right. "Moinin' Jack" she smiles as she greets her friend. "How'd ya sleep?"
Jack looks at her with deep interest as she saunters into the room, her skirt above her knees and a smile that he knows not many people have seen before. The kind of smile that starts in her eyes and ends up in the attractive deep dimple in her left cheek. As she walks over to the bunk next to his, she drops her boots to the floor with a loud 'thunk'. Jack watches her as she pulls her hair down from the untidy ponytail on the top her head and begins to braid one side of the curtain of curls into a French braid. He watches her sapphire eyes, glittering as if they were real sapphires, as she rambles on to him about nothing in particular, Her small nose and full red lips bringing out her large eyes and pale but constantly flushed complexion. What am I t'inking? This is Kit we're toilking about, Kit O'Connell-da little nine year old that Blink drugged in from da rain, when we was 9. Her voice quickly pulls him from his thoughts. She has just finished one braid and is starting on the other when she looks up and sees Jack staring at her.
"Jack. Are you listenin' ta me? Are ya feelin ok, Jacky-boy?" she knows what's going on in his mind but she decides to play dumb. She knew it would happen sooner or later. Though she preferred later, much later.
"Have you eva known me ta be sick on a sellin dey?" he smiles and places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "C'mon, I'll walk ya ta Tibby's"
Kit buttons up her shirt and tucks it into her drab gray skirt, then takes up step with Jack as they walk to Tibby's together.
***
It had been a long day at the restaurant. She had seen most of the boys from the Lodging house, a few from Brooklyn and a few from the Bronx. She made her famous brownies and vanilla ice cream today and sold out at lunch. It has been a good day. Kit is about to close up when a gang of newsies from Queens steps into the restaurant.
"Can I help ya boys?"
"Yeah," the boy, who she assumed was the leader, steps forward to stand directly in front of her. Too close for comfort, actually, "we'se lookin' for Kit O'Connell, you seen 'im?"
"No sorry boys, sure haven't"
The leader just smiles a very crooked smile and runs a dirty hand down her arm, resting it on the curve of her hip, "You eva t'ink of movin' ta Queens, Dollface? You'd be treated loik a queen."
"Me home is heah. Sorry boys but I would rat'er move ta Brooklyn and deal wit' Spot Conlon before I moved ta Queens wit' da loiks of you'se."
She throws him a cheeky smile and slaps his hands away, trying to push past him. His arm encircles her waist and he pulls her to him, "where ya goin' dollface?" he begins to nuzzle her neck when three pairs of hands grab the boy by his shoulders and toss him out onto the street. Kit would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been for a strong arm catching her about the waist and pulling her to its owner's side. In front of her stood Kid Blink, Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelley, Mush, and Skittery. She looked to her right, at the owner of the arm that kept her from falling. He was a handsome young man with dirty blonde hair and ice blue eyes. He isn't that tall but she's so short that he is taller than her. She knows she's seen him somewhere but can't think of where. His face is expressionless and she can't tell what he's thinking. Suddenly he opens his mouth to speak.
"It alroight if I stay in Manhattan ta noight Jacky-boy?"
Wait a minute! Jacky-boy was her name for Jack. Who did this strange guy think he was calling Jack by the nickname she gave him?!
She looks at Jack and then at the stranger. Angered, she puts her hand on her hip, surprised to find his hand still there. She slaps his hand and looks back at Jack, puzzled by his strange attitude. Jack wasn't doing anything about this stranger's hands being around her waist. Jack smiles, "Sure Spot, I don' mind. We'se got plenty of bunks."
Race, Blink, Mush and Skittery are eyeing Spot's hand on Kit's waist but Spot didn't seem to notice. "You'se 'kay Sweets?" Race finally speaks up, his voice shaking with concern. Mush, Blink and Skittery, all nod in agreement saying almost simultaneously, "Yeah, Sweets, you'se 'kay?"
She slaps Spot's hand away and smiles at the boys just standing there, "T'ank you deahs" Kit smiles, the dimple deep in her cheek, as she saunters out of the restaurant, purposefully swaying her hips. She turns to look at the boys, their mouths hanging open "you'se comin' boys?" She chuckles as they all remove their hats and walk by her, smiling. Spot stops in front of her, smiles smugly, places a hand on the small of her back and leans down placing a hard kiss on her lips. She shoves him away from her, locks the door, shoves the key in her pocket, and walks away fuming with anger.
***
Spot walks into the bunkroom of the Manhattan lodging house with Jack. Sweets had disappeared right after she locked up Tibby's. Spot smirks at the thought of kissing her again. When he kissed her though he felt something he had never felt before. Like static shock that traveled through his entire body. He shakes the thought out of his head as he walks into the noisy bunkroom. ***
Kit walks into the Lodging house and signs in, paying her five cents. Blue fire is still burning in her eyes, furious over what Spot Conlon had done to her. Spot Conlon for God's sake. The leadah of Brooklyn had kissed her. Correction: the leadah of Brooklyn had kissed Sweets, da bak'ry goil. She frowns and walks into the loud bunkroom, grabbing a pair of pants from her bed and discarding the cotton shirt in a few seconds. Leaving her standing in her sleeveless scoop-neck undershirt and her gray skirt.
"Hey Kit, how was da cookin' taday?" Blink smiles at her and leans on her bedpost.
"Kid Blink, were you'se not dere? I made brownies and vanilla ice cream. Your fav'rite." Smiles and shakes her head, "I'm sorry you missed it."
Kit laughs softly at Blink's sudden darkened mood and whispers so that no one can hear her, "Come by ta morra and I'll see if I got any left. I know I got some ice cream." Kit winks and walks into the washroom to change into her pants and out of her skirt. Her good mood is back and she just wants to settle down for the night. Just more work at Tibby's tomorrow.
She walks out of the washroom wearing tawny brown pants and faded blue suspenders with her thin undershirt. She's putting her hair up into the usual, untidy ponytail on the top of her head when she sees him. Spot Conlon standing by her bed, with his arms crossed across his chest, talking to Jack. Before he sees her she shoves her hat on her head, tucks the stray locks of hair underneath, and puts on her poker face: expressionless.
Spot looks at Kit O'Connell, Kit smirks and spit shakes with him.
"Da name's Kit. And you'se would be?"
"Uh.uh.s-s-Spot Conlon - leadah of da Brooklyn newsies. Hoid of me?"
"No" Kit finds amusement in his stuttering. The boys in the bunkroom burst into laughter as Jack walks in and drapes his arm over Kit's shoulder, not even noticing Spot.
"So Kit, how many ta morra? 100?" Jack laughs a little and then turns to Spot, finally noticing him, "hey Spot, you'se met Kit yet?"
Spot nods and scowls. Kit looks at him with a smirk.
"Lights out boys!" Kloppman climbs the stairs to the bunkroom and begins to turn lights out. Kit lies down on her bed and sighs. Spot climbs onto the bunk above hers. She shakes her head, her hair still in her ponytail, and drifts off to sleep.