HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GINNI! I know it's late... But here it is. n.n Hope ya like it!

SpRace.

.

The day was quite like any other day in Brooklyn. Spot Conlon woke up. Spot Conlon ate breakfast, got his papes. Spot Conlon sat above the other newsies, overlooking them with a river view. The only thing that was different was the pattern of clouds in the sky. And so Spot Conlon had no reason to expect visitors.

But visitors Spot got. He happened to look up just as two familiar faces rounded a corner.

"Heya, Spot," Race called. Behind him, Boots waved.

Spot climbed down onto the dock to meet them. "What brings youse to Brooklyn?" he asked.

"Nothin' much," Race answered.

"You wouldn'ta walked all the way ta Brooklyn if there was nothin' much."

Race scuffed his shoe on the ground. "Well, we was wonderin' if you wanted ta come visit today. If you ain't busy or anything."

Spot eyed both newsies. Something was up. "Why?" Granted, he wasn't about to pass up any opportunity to spend time with Race, but he didn't want to be obvious and jump the kid or anything.

"Actually," Boots piped up, "there was somethin' Jack wanted ta talk ta you about."

"Ah, Cowboy. What is it?"

"He, uh, didn't tell us."

Race stared at Boots and tried to hide his grin at the smaller newsie's obvious lying.

"It ain't about no strike again, is it?" Spot asked.

"Naw, nothin' like that."

Spot looked back and forth between Race and Boots.

Race shifted feet. "So, uh, you comin' or what?"

"…I guess so." Spot didn't want to say 'absolutely!'. He didn't want to sound too unprofessional around his newsies. "I gots nothin' better ta do." Boots grinned.

About five hours later, Race, Spot, and Boots were walking down the streets of Manhattan, nearly to the lodging house.

"Is what Jacky boy's got ta say ta me so important that I hadda walk hours ta get here? Why didn't he just tell me hisself?" Spot asked.

"He was, uh, busy," Race said. As they came closer to the lodging house, he cried out "DAMN YOU, JACK!"

Spot stared at him. "What was that all about?"

"Nothin'." Race wasn't about to tell the Brooky that was the code to let the lodging house know they were there.

He pushed open the door to the building. It was pretty dark inside, and Spot nearly walked into a table.

"What happened ta all the lights, Ra –"

"SURPRIIIIIIISE!" All the lights flicked on. Newsies popped out of every corner of the lodging house. Spot jumped a little and stared.

"Is this… for me?"

"Happy boithday, Spot," Race said. "We knows it's a little late, sorry about that."

Jack and Mush came out of a side room, carrying a cake on a tray.

"A cake?" Spot said. "Did somebody make that?"

Race cleared his throat. "Actually, I did."

"You made that!" When Race threw him a grin, Spot threw caution to the winds, pulled Race in, and kissed him.

Boots lit the candles.

.

Voilá! My first Newsies fic. Er, drabble. :D Happy birthday again, man!

...Trivia question: How long did it take Zimbabweke to find out how far it was from Manhattan to New Dock St. in Brooklyn?

Answer.: ... A really long time. And a lot of MapQuest.

Be kind, please review! (Yeah, I know that totally doesn't rhyme... but you know those stickers they put on Blockbuster movies? "Be kind, please rewind"? Yeah... xD; I know, brilliant. --/sarcasm--).