As always in Brooklyn, New York, it was a beautiful night. The cool autumn breeze was whistling through the trees, providing a rather chilly, but still comforting and welcome wind across the water near the Brooklyn newsies lodging house. Inside the lights were on, and it was apparent that a fun time was being had. Poker was being played on every available bit of floor space, bets were placed on who would win hands, and the smell of cigars and cigarettes wafted out from the open windows and door of the warehouse. Many of the newsies were coming and going, some play fighting out near the docks, others having heated conversations about when the next fight with Bronx was going to be.

Instead of taking part of all the activities, there was one newsie that was content to sit on a dock post, legs dangling freely in the breeze, hair hanging loose from the normal newsie cap that she wore every day. On any normal night, Maddy would be inside with the rest of the boys, gambling her money away with the best of them. But not tonight. This night, the only semblance that she was there was the lit cigarette in her hand, off of which she was taking light puffs. Her blonde hair billowed in the wind, and cool sea green eyes watched the waves of the bay as the crashed against the dock. The air was muggy, loaded with water and heat. There would be a storm soon, more than likely. However, it would be nothing compared with the storm that would come later on that night.

Brock, the leader of Bronx, had decided to call a meeting with Brooklyn, their heated rival. Of course, Spot Conlon, leader of the infamous Brooklyn newsies was immediately on his guard as he took the piece of paper from the Bronx messenger. He would oblige Bronx, he ultimately decided, but it would not be without the proper protection. 15 of Brooklyn's best would be traveling along with Spot, just to ensure that Brock didn't try to pull a fast one and jump Conlon. Maddy didn't have a problem admitting up front that she didn't think it was a good idea to meet with Bronx, but in the end, when the vote had been taken, it was agreed that the meeting would take place. Before hand, a night of fun and games would be had. Smoking, gambling, and drinking would take place, not to mention some play fighting in the spirit of practice against a possible real fight later on.

So, taking place was the fun and games right now. Maddy didn't have the stomach for it though. Ordinarily, possibly. Right now, no. Her nerves were much to jumbled about the meeting to think on anything else. She wondered what Brock would say, of what he could possibly bring to the meeting. She hated Bronx's leader with all her heart. He was a hard type, and a bully, to not only the other borough members, but to his own boys as well. His temper was nearly legendary around New York; every newsie knew it wasn't a smart move to piss him off. And his attitude towards the female population left much to be desired. Brock believed a girl had two purposes, the first of which was to be barefoot, pregnant, and making dinner in the kitchen. The second of which, to do whatever he told her to do. For some reason, the girls in the Bronx loved him, loved everything about him.

Every time Maddy saw him, she wanted to throw up on his shoes.

"Hey."

"Holy shi-!" The girl nearly fell off her comfortable perch of the post at the unexpected, hard Brooklyn voice. Her feet hit the deck, her hair tumbled in front of her face, and she landed on her backside with a hard and painful thump. When she managed to get her bearings and brush her hair back from her face, she was greeted by none other than Spot Conlon, shaking his head, his fingers hooked into his suspenders. A smirk plastered his face as he just watched her.

"Thank you evah so much, Spot," Maddy grumbled, scraping herself up off the dock and looking around, brushing herself off, "I now have about ten splintah's in my butt."

"Not'a problem," Spot gave a slight bow and walked over, casually checking to ensure that she was injured no further than having a few splinters, "whatt'ya doin' out heah by ya'self?"

"Nuthin' much...just watchin' da waves and stuff like that." Since her first cigarette had been lost in her butt to dock collision, she fished another out of her pants pocket along with a match and lit it. "Waitin' n' thinkin' is all." Wary of the dock post now, she settled for sitting on the edge and leaning her back against the wood. Spot took up position at the next post over and remained standing. "Waitin' n' thinkin' about what?"

She blue some smoke out, her gaze still out over the water. "Waitin' ta go ta the meetin', n' thinkin' about what's gonna happen once we get theah." She heard Conlon shift against the post slighty just as a particularly harsh gust of wind fell upon the warf, causing her to shiver slightly. "Gonna be a storm tanight," she predicted, gazing off into the dark horizon.

"Yea...about dat meetin' wit Bronx tanight," Spot spoke after a couple moments of silence, and effectively brought Maddy back to reality. "What about it?" she answered, putting her ciggie out and bringing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"Ya not goin'."

What? Maddy nearly asked him to repeat himself. What did he mean, 'she wasn't going'? She had every right to go! She said as much to Spot, confusion and anger most evident within her voice.

It wasn't as if Spot wasn't expecting this. Before, Maddy would do pretty much just as she pleased, and Spot didn't have a problem with it. The girl knew her limits, and knew them well. She knew what she could and could not do, and she knew when to cross certain lines and when to steer clear of others. All in all, Spot was most certain that Maddy was one of the smarter newsies he'd ever known. But he still could let her go with him and the other boys tonight. There was just no way.

"I needs you ta stay here, watch the place," he answered, crossing his feet at the ankles and also his arms at the chest, "I'm takin' my four tops and ten'a my othah boys. You're gonna stay heah an' make sure dat things don't get outta hand on this side'a town."

"Okay, numbah one ya got 50 othah boys in theah dat can watch the place. Numbah two, wadda'ya thinks gonna happen? Ya think the lodgin' house is gonna catch on fiah or somethin'?" The girl stood up, wiping her hair out of her face and taking a couple of steps forward, regarding him. "Ya've nevah asked me ta stay behind before Spot. Did I do somethin' wrong? Somethin' dat makes ya think ya can't trust me anymore?"

"No, you didn't do anything, Maddy, I just...want ya ta stay heah tanight." Conlon looked back at her, staying out of the range of light from the lodging house. Not that there was much light to give on his side. Where Maddy was sitting, he could see her face perfectly. It was a picture of utter disbelief and anger. He was expecting that. When she finally sighed and shook her head, plopping to the ground, her feet hanging over the edge of the dock, he uncrossed his arms and plucked his pants pockets with his fingers. There was a rather uncomfortable silence between the two of them for a while, something that they were both unaccustomed too. Never before had they had to deal with not talking to each other for one reason or another. Spot shook his head. Ah, the irony of caring for someone...upsetting them to ensure their safety.

"When are ya leavin'?"

Spot shrugged. "Brock said he wanted ta start around 10:00pm. It's about 8:00pm now...I guess in about an hou'ah or so. Get theah, look around the place, make sure he don't pull any fast ones." He saw her nod, but she didn't bother to voice any concerns or other questions she may have had. Spot was starting to feel slightly guilty. Just slightly. He wasn't used to people having problems with his decisions...well, to be fair, he wasn't used to Maddy having problems with his decisions. She was usually behind him on everything he did or decided on. Ordinarily, her behavior wouldn't affect him the way it was now, but in a way, he felt he owed her more of an explanation than what he gave her. Because there was one, there was no doubt about that. He'd just never been put in a position to explain himself before, much less to Maddy. There were so many things running through his thoughts right now, most of them feelings that he didn't know how to express, much less understand. He just knew he felt them. He also knew she felt them too.

"Look uhm..." he settled himself beside her, a respectful distance, about a foot, and allowed his feet to dangle over the edge of the dock as well, his hands in his lap. He tried to find the words that he wanted to use, but he just didn't know how to put out what he wanted to say. He'd never had to before. For her part, Maddy didn't bother to prod or push him. She simply waited for him to get out whatever it was that he wanted to say to her. It was obviously difficult for him, considering when Spot wanted to say something, it was usually out and done within 30 seconds, no questions to be asked.

"I don't wanna hav'ta worry about you...when I'm tolkin' ta Brock." He finally admitted, looking out over the bay, the warf, the surrounding buildings. Anywhere but Maddy. Because he knew how she would take that, even though she should know better than to take it as an insult. But none the less...

"You don't wanna hav'ta worry about me?" she repeated, turning her head ever so slightly to look at Conlon. "You know what I mean, Maddy," he replied quietly, calmly, not letting his words take an offensive tone. He'd gone through enough negotiations with the different Newsie burroughs around New York to know how to speak to people when trying to prove a point or get something he wanted. "No, I really don't, Spot. Ya nevah used'ta worry about me before. As I remembah, ya were more than willin' ta put me as a scout, or have me on da ground if ya needed me in'a fight." The wind was blowing more forcefully now and she moved more of her hair back underneath her shirt in frustration.

"Things were different then," was Spots only answer. Because it was the truth. Things were different between them. It was only just recently that the attitude they'd taken towards each other had changed. Now, there was more witty banter, more smiles, more glances and stares than before, more caution on both sides on how they would speak and what they would say to each other. "An' you think they're different now because..." Maddy made a few gestures with her hands, trying to get the sentance out that she wanted, "I dunno, because we may have somethin' a little more than friendship now?"

"Yea."

"Yea?" A chuckle released itself from Maddy's mouth. "Look, Spot...I-I dunno how ta handle dis any bettah than you do, okay? But...if ya gonna start treatin' me like a helpless little goil heah, then-"

"No, dat's not what I'm doin, Maddy-"

"Then what ar'ya doin'? Cause dats what it seems like ta me."

"When I go ta dat meetin' tanight, I gotta have my brain woikin' right, okay? I don't trust Brock at all, an' I wouldn't put it past him ta make a few snide comments ta you just ta get ya tempah goin'. An' you know he'll do dat, an' you an' I both know dat if he does, you'll go off! Jus' like ya always do!"

"I don' always go off," she grumbled. Even as she spoke the words, she knew she was lying. Any chance she got to take a swing at Brock she took.

"But dat ain't what botha's me the most," he plunged on, "I ain't nevah been afraid ta do somethin' before, an' you know it. What botha's me the most is now I am, an' it's cause a' you." He got up, running a hand through is wavy dirty blonde hair, letting out some air as he did so. Maddy remained sitting on the wood, and although he couldn't see it, there was a very stunned expression on her face. "It's me? It's my fault, how is dis my fault?"

"It ain't about fault, Maddy," he turned to the side, looking down at her looking up at him. "Dis ain't about fault at all. Foh the foist time in my life, I'm actually afraid'a somethin' happenin' ta you. I don't wanna have ta constantly be watchin' out foh you and not be able ta do my job."

"You don't have ta watch out foh me, Spot, I can take care of myself!" She now rose from the dock, standing parallel to Spot, almost squaring off with him.

"That's not the point, Maddy! I knows you can take care'a'ya self, I knows dat! But it's the mere thought'a me loosin' my cool because dat asshole Brock or somebody else foh dat matter, decides ta give you trouble dat gets me. I know foh a fact dat now, if somebody messed wit'cho, I wouldn't give ya the chance ta punch 'em. Know why? I'd already be down on the ground with the piece'a shit myself beatin' the crap outta' dem! So, let's see what happens then..." he started to pace, his hands on his hips, looking back and forth from Maddy towards the lodging house where the party was still going on. "Aftah me beatin' the scabbah to a bloody pulp, my boys comes ta me an'a ya wanna know what they say? They say, 'eh' Spot, ya need ta back off a bit, all of us out there just got inta a fight, and some'a us landed in the refuge foh the night!'"

All the while, Maddy watched him, her head and eyes following every movement that he made. "Don't'cha think ya goin' a little ovah board theah?" she wondered aloud. The boy before her stopped in his tracks. "No, I don't," he growled, walking up to her. Spot was five foot, three inches, Maddy stood at an even five feet. There was only a three inch difference between them, but at the moment, had anyone walked by and saw the two, it would have seemed like Spot was towering over Maddy. It was that kind of presence that had brought him the power of Brooklyn those years ago.

"Put ya self in my shoes, Maddy," he said after a short silence as he collected himself. He didn't back away from her. He needed to be as close to her as possible, or the desired point that he was trying to make would not get through to her. "You're the one that's goin' ta the meetin' tanight, an' I'm goin' wit'cho. Brocks theah, wit his boys, an' the minute we step inta dat meetin' space, all his boys jump us. Every last one a them. Now, they ain't made'a move ta fight us yet, but they will, if we don't hand Brooklyn ovah ta them right then and there. You, a'course, say fohget it. An' then, those real big line-backah Bronx boys, dey get they'ah hands on me, an' they drag me out in front'a you and they say, 'okay, you don' wanna give us Brooklyn? We'll beat the hell outta him until ya say yes! An' ya can't get ta me, because you's got all dis Bronx boys cornerin' ya..." He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatt'ya gonna do?" Maddy looked away from him, but he forced her back to him by a quick tug of her chin with his hand.

"Don't look ovah theah, look at me." His normally cold blue eyes were now aflame with a fire and passion that Maddy had never seen before, and would hopefully never see again. It almost frightened her. "What would ya do?" he asked quietly, waiting patiently for her answer.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She couldn't answer. She wanted to tell him that she'd never give Brooklyn up, that she knew Spot would rather be handicapped the rest of his life than give Bronx his home and territory. But she also knew that she'd never be able to forgive herself if she chose to save Brooklyn rather than the leader of Brooklyn.

Spot read her mind with ease. "Exactly." He released her chin, and instead rested his nimble fingers on her shoulders. "I don't wanna have ta make dat decision. I don't wanna have to choose between what's best foh Brooklyn and what's best foh you. An' yea, in a way, ya right. I am treatin' ya like the helpless little goil. But I know ya not. An' so does the rest of Brooklyn, hell, all a New York knows that if theah's one thing ya not, it's helpless. But I wanna protect ya...I dunno how ta do dat if Every time we go out ta do business, I'm worryin' about whethah'a not ya gonna get inta a scrape that you can't dig ya way out of." His hands slid off her shoulders.

"I dunno how ta say it any bettah than dat."

Maddy swallowed, allowing herself to look down at the dock. Eventually, she looked back up at him. His facial features had changed dramatically from just a few seconds earlier. He seemed more thoughtful, a lot calmer, and his eyes at returned to their normal snowy blue. In them, she could have sworn that she saw glimmer of hope for her understanding, but it was gone so quickly, it could have been nothing more than one of his many looks. "Ya said it good enough," she breathed, wiping her forehead. Without her knowing it, she'd apparently perspired during Spots little 'what if' speech. "This is gonna be a hard road foh us, ain't it?"

"Well, yea...we're newsies...everything we do is hard." Dammit, he was so arrogant sometimes, but it was one of the things that had awoken Maddy's attraction for him in the first place. He always acted as if nothing could touch him. She had to keep in mind that, now she'd seen this little display of...what was it? Affection, maybe...caring, definitely...whatever it was, she'd always have to remember that much of that arrogance was an act.

"Dammit...what uh, what time is it?"

"Probably time foh me ta go round up the boys and take a trip across town," Spot answered, looking over her head at the lodging house. Sure enough, he could see a couple of the boys now, looking around the lodging house, their arms up in signal to wave him over. He looked back down at Maddy. "Show time."

"Show time," she nodded, cracking a smile. Truth be told, she was still angry that she wasn't going, but she understood Spots reasoning. He needed his head in the game, not on her or anything else that might be bothering him. "Well uh...I guess 'be careful' is in o'dah..." she shrugged, "and uh...I dunno what else ta say!" She laughed a little, crossing her arms and shrugging.

"Hey Spot! It's past nine, we bettah move it if we wanna be theah before Bronx!"

Brooklyn's leader raised a hand, signaling that he'd heard and understood. "Hold down the fort while I'm gone?" He waggled his eyebrows slightly. "Yea, I'll hold down the fort while ya gone..." she swept her arms forward in a shooing motion. "Go on...get outta heah. Go tell Bronx ta lay off us, eh?"

"Easier said then done," Spot answered, walking backwards as she continued to shoo him off the dock. "If we ain't back by one in the mornin' send someone ta get Manhattan. We're supposed ta be meetin just over the bridge at dat new dinah dat opened up...Nickle Food Dinah I think it's colled."

"I do dat...hell, I might just send foh them ta have a party while ya gone. Get Jack and Racetrack ovah heah, Crutchy too, and dat David's rather cute with that curly hair and bookworm way'a his..." she grinned, watching Conlon nearly stumble over his feet in shock. "Ya bettah be jokin' about dat..." His only answer was a shrug. "Women..."

"Would you get outta' heah!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'..."

Spot turned and walked away, his normal arrogant swagger coming back to his step as he caught up with Shakey and the rest of the boys. A few minutes later, and they were headed out, past the walk way to the docks and up the hill. Maddy watched until she could see them no more, then, went back out to the perch that she'd been sitting at before Spot had come out onto the dock. Another gust of wind came off the water, blowing her hair loose from underneath her collared shirt and she hastily brushed it out of the way. Another gust of wind, and then Maddy heard it; the rumble of an impending storm. As she looked up, lightning flashed across the sky, and for a moment, Maddy had the fleeting sense this wasn't the only storm that she would be weathering that night. Soon after the next couple rolls of thunder and strikes of lightning, the rain came, light at first, and then heavy, a down poor the likes of which Maddy had never seen. As she raced off the dock and back into the safety of the lodging house, she gave one more fleeting glance at the path that Spot and the other boys had taken towards the meeting area.

"You weathah dat storm, guys...I'll weathah dis one..."