A/N - PLEASE REVIEW/RATE, I'D LOVE FEEDBACK ON THIS. OBVIOUSLY, AND SADLY, I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS OR NEWSIES ITSELF. WE LIVE IN HOPE. ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ARE MINE THOUGH. Thanks for reading! :-)

Somethin' Different, Alright

It was hot. Blistering hot in fact, at only ten o'clock in the morning. The air was thick and humid and the sweaty New York crowd around Romeo moved sluggishly down the street. He slipped into the gutter of the road to get away from the unbearable stench of bodies and wiped his dark hair off his forehead, where it clung limply.

Romeo still had nearly fifty papes to sell, despite getting rid of a few that morning. The headlines were dead too; but that was nothing new. Reaching his usual selling spot near the Brooklyn Bridge; about as near to Brooklyn as he dared to go, with Spot Conlon as the reigning leader, he dumped a stack of papes on the ground. Sure, Spot had helped them in the strike last year; helped a lot, and they were friends, good friends even. But business was still business and he wouldn't want Romeo muscling in on his territory. If trade wasn't going to pick up he'd have to move further in toward the city but he had a few loyal - mostly female - customers who came around, and with the sticky heat of today he wanted to avoid it as best he could. The ladies didn't tend to like him all sweaty.

With that he lowered his eyes and grinned, remembering yesterday evening's girl. On the way back to the lodging house, he'd bumped into Jack Kelly and some girl who'd been pretty smitten with him. That was, until Romeo came along. He flashed her a smile and muttered to Jack, 'want me to take 'er off ya 'ands?' And well - that was that. She'd been his from the off. Jack had appreciated it, and undoubtedly so would have Katherine.

The regular customers trickled past him as the sun rose even higher in the sky and what little shade he had diminished rapidly. One by one he sold papes to his regulars, scarcely even thinking about it now; just going through the motions. Call out a 'headline', greet a customer, give 'em a smile, take the money and that was it. He'd give up flirting with his regulars; once he'd broken their hearts then he'd lose his custom, and he needed money and food more than he needed their kisses. He could get them off other girls, anyhow.

Romeo's dark eyes looked down at the pile of papes; he'd not sold much today. He blamed the heat; it was too much effort to do anything but lie and sleep in weather like this. Stuffing them in his bag he started off walking back into the stinking centre of the city, groaning at the thought of all those people and the crowd. Henry called to him from under the shade of the awning as he passed the deli; "'Ey Romeo! 'Ad any luck?"

"Sold a bunch."

"Not like that - I meant lady luck!"

"Well I will, soon as I get rid'a these" quipped Romeo, continuing on his way and leaving Henry to his own selling outside Jacobi's deli. Jacobi would probably give him a few leftovers; he was fond of the newsies and Henry leapt at any chance to get food.

As much as it pained him to be there, inner city New York was better selling than the Brooklyn Bridge. There were more customers there, as hot and smelly as the gutters and the people were. It was harder work in the city too, but not for someone with as much experience as Romeo. He'd sold all of his papes by four o'clock at the latest and sat on the kerb, idly watching the world go by.

A pretty girl, perhaps sixteen or so, walked past. Her blonde hair was wavy and her skirt just on the verge of being short. Romeo tugged his cap lower down over his eyes and gave a loud wolf whistle. She turned round with an indignant expression on her face before catching sight of the culprit and smiling bash fully. In return she received a cheeky grin from him, his dark eyes flashing playfully.

"Well 'ello dere, beautiful, what's ya name?" He asked her.

"I'll tell you mine if you tells me yours," she replied coyly and he laughed out loud at this.

"Oi - Romeo, what do you think you're doing with me girl?!" bellowed a grumpy man half running out of his café; the café Romeo was perched on the kerb in front of. Romeo swung up and shouted back,

"Now, now sir, I don't know what youse is talkin' 'bout, I was jus' 'avin' meself a little conversation wiv a pretty lady! I ain't got a clue 'o told youse me name either but I don't -" he was cut off before he could finish his rant, all said loudly in his best poshly offended voice.

"What are you talking about boy?" The man said, shooting him evils before snatching his daughter by the arm and pushing her in the direction of the doors.

This minor tiff settled, at least in Romeo's eyes, he sat back down upon the kerb and proceeded to mind his own business. But it was not over in the eyes of the grumpy café owner, who aimed a kick at Romeo's backside, who dived smoothly out of the way and leapt up, out of the way, before turning to face the man and sarcastically tipping his hat. It was probably best that he continued along his way before he got in yet another dispute with a man over his daughter.

His stomach was tight with hunger; he'd missed dinner yesterday due to that girl of Jack's, and there was no such thing as lunch for a newsie. All breakfast had been was a hunk of stale bread from the Mercy sisters. He'd been looking forward to a girl and that man... . His shoulders slumped and he kicked a stone along the gutter mournfully. Romeo guessed he should go back to the lodging house now, maybe see if there was a pretty girl to flirt with on the way.

But then a shout cut through the air. "Help!" It was a teenage boy's voice and it sounded a bit like Elmer, or even Jo Jo. It was difficult to work out from the scream. And it was coming from the alleyway a few yards down the street. Romeo broke into a run at the sound of another boy being soaked and hurtled down the alleyway.

He stopped abruptly at the sight of Morris Delancey, holding a boy of about his own age up against the wall. It wasn't Elmer or Jo Jo - this boy had blond hair ad wasn't dressed like a newsie. But the boy was getting well and truly soaked; his eye was swollen shut and purple, and he had a gash in his lip, with no sign of Morris planning on stopping. The Delancey brother was hitting the boy in the stomach over and over again and the boy was limp and unresponsive now, too weak to even shout. Romeo knew he had to do something and fast. But what? He wasn't particularly strong; his gift was a pretty face, not strength or size. Then, in the corner of his peripheral vision, he spotted a plank of wood lying against a dump.

Romeo lifted the wood, testing its weight before running and socking Morris over the head with an almighty crash. Morris fell to the ground and released the boy, who lay limply against the wall, head drooping on his skinny chest. Romeo stood over Morris and tutted.

"My, my, what would ya dear brudder 'ave t'say about dis, eh Morris? Beatin' someone up - without 'im? Why, 'e'd be furious! Go on, get outta 'ere!" He said sweetly, kicking Morris in the seat of his pants. With one last angry look over his shoulder, Morris slunk away, and Romeo spat in his direction.

Finally, when he was sure that Morris wasn't returning with his brother, he dropped his guard and crouched over the boy, who was slowly coming to his senses.

"Y'alright?"

"I'm fine" he said thickly through a split lip, trying and failing to struggle to his feet. "Thanks."

"C'mon, we'd best get y,a outta 'ere before 'e comes back, wiv 'is halfwit of a brudder 'n all! Whereabouts ya goin'? The lodgin' house? Ya new, I bet."

"Huh? No, no lodgings. I need to go home. Mother will be worried."

'Oh. I t'ought youse was one of us. Y'know - a newsie. Where ya goin'?"

Slowly, slowly, he pulled the boy up and put the guy's arm about his shoulders until he was fully supported. All of the newsies had had plenty of practice of supporting their friends after fights, or when one of them got soaked, and practice of being the one soaked. In fact, Romeo's recent experience still lay in his mind; lying in an alleyway like this one after the girl he'd been chasing's boyfriend caught him and beat him round the face. It hadn't damaged his pretty looks though. Thank God Finch and Buttons had been there to pull the guy off, cause he hadn't been planning on stopping. Romeo shuddered.

He staggered along with the weight of the other boy on top of him; though the boy was slim, Romeo was slight too and the boy was taller. He stopped next to a fountain.

"'Ere," he said, looking around for a cloth. When there was none, he took part of his shirt and ripped that off, "wash da muck off ya face, or ya ma'll 'ave an 'eart attack when I takes ya home."

The boy nodded and did as he was told, wincing. When he was done Romeo picked him up again and they hobbled on. Under his breath Romeo muttered, "shoulda borrowed Crutchie's stick."

Gently, Romeo eased the boy home under the kid's half delirious directions, still supporting him all the while. It was a long walk, made all the more exhausting by the dead weight on his side; he could've run it in twenty minutes. But finally, they reached the kid's place; a tenement building with a rickety set of stairs on the outside. Romeo carefully set the boy against the wall and tapped him gently.

"Youse t'inks ya can walk dat?" He asked kindly.

"Yeah, I think I can."

"I'll come up den, jus' be on the safe side, y'see?"

The boy nodded feebly. Several storeys up he stopped.

"This is me," and knocked on the window. Immediately it was opened by a middle aged woman with a kind face, and flour on her dress.

"Benny! Oh Benny! Where've you been darlin', where've you been?" Then she got a look at his face and screamed. Romeo figured it was time to intervene and stepped cautiously into her view.

"Ma'am, 'scuse me Ma'am - 'e got soaked real bad by dem Delancey brudders, real nasty, but 'e's okay now."

"You - you saved him?" She asked desperately.

"Well yeah, kinda. I t'ought it was me mate, see, and'n well, well I couldn't just leave 'im! So I boughts 'im 'ome, see."

"Oh, oh thank you. You'd best come on in, and stay for supper."

"Ma'am, I couldn't -"

"You must, after all you've done. Come in!"

Romeo entered grudgingly through the window, and pulled the boy, Benny, through after him. Setting the lad down in a chair he stood, awkwardly in the centre of their room. One hand twisted his cap in his hand, removing which had released a shock of dark hair, and the other played with his red suspender strap. He felt awkward and uncomfortable here; almost dirty. The boy's mother set to fussing over him, cleaning his cuts and examining his eye; then fetching ice. Romeo could smell soup cooking and fresh bread baking, and his mouth watered. Suddenly, against all control, his stomach gave a loud rumble. He clutched it bash fully and the woman laughed.

"Supper's almost served - sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Romeo," Romeo mumbled quietly, almost embarrassed of it.

"What was that love?"

"Romeo. Me name's Romeo." He said loudly.

"Lizzie, Lizzie come here darling and lay an extra place at the table. We've got company!" She called into the other room.

A beautiful girl walked out of what must have been the bedroom, a paperback novel in her hands. Romeo's heart skipped a beat, he could barely breathe. The palms of his hands began to clam up and he wiped them apprehensively on his trouser legs. She was tall and fair, with long brown hair falling in waves almost to a slim waist. When she turned around her face was every bit as beautiful and her back; a dainty nose with lovely green eyes burning with fire and delicate features that Romeo thought must have been sculpted by angels at the very least.

But what in the world was happening to his mind and person. This had never happened to Romeo before; smooth talking Romeo who it was said could charm his way out of any tight spot with a smile from that mouth and those dark eyes. Even Mush - the other resident charmer in the Manhattan newsboys' lodging house admitted that Romeo, he "'ad a way wiv da goils". But this girl - well she was something different alright. And he couldn't place what - apart from her was the obvious part. The girl was the most wonderful thing he had ever set eyes on. And for once, he, of all people, was tongue tied. All rational thought left his brain running and he couldn't for the life of him think of anything decent to say.

"So Romeo," the children's mother continued, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. "That's an unusual name. How'd you get it?"

"Erm. Not exackerly..." He said, shuffling awkwardly on the spot. "It's me nickname - me newsie name, see? 'Ad it so long I don't even use me other one. It's jus' Romeo, ma'am."

"I see," she smiled, "and do I want to know how this nickname came about?"

"No!" He said hastily, "definitely no, er, I can't quite remember meself in fact, I means, it was an awful lon' time ago, ain't heard da story in a while anyways." Romeo was blushing a furious scarlet, all over, and he could feel it throbbing in his cheeks. The entire family laughed, including Benny's sister.

Benny looked healthier now he was home; his black eye was fading under the ice and his lip was starting to heal. Romeo sat at the dining table with him and his family. They all made aimless chatter, each avoiding the subject of Benny's beating. It went unsaid that this was not a topic to be broached. His sister - Lizzie, was even lovelier when you spoke to her; kind and clever, with an extremely sharp tongue. Romeo spent the entire meal gobbling down the food and trying not to make it obvious he was staring at her. Mostly, this failed.

Finally, the last of his soup had been drunk and every crumb eaten. Romeo stood up and began to thank the woman profusely for dinner, and for allowing him to stay.

"I'd best be goin' now, ma'am." he said, pulling on his cap. But it was clear that their mother had noticed the way Romeo's eyes had been drawn to this girl all evening; how he lost all sense of intelligent speech when she asked him a question; and how when she laughed at something he said he flushed like a strawberry and beamed, for she ordered Benny to bed to rest and for Lizzie to "be a good girl and show the young man out."

Lizzie and Romeo walked out of the door together, chatting companionably.

"So, Romeo," she said, and then laughed to herself.

"What, what's so funny?" he asked.

"I'm just wondering how you got the name Romeo. I mean I can see why. With that face, id be silly to think you weren't a ladies man, but what's the actual story behind it?"

"Of all da questions," he chuckled good-naturedly. "Alright, I'll tell youse. When I was maybe thirteen, fourteen, I was out with a goil. And we was, well y'know, kissin'. 'N den I 'ear ol' Cowboy 'n Race in the background, sniggerin'. So I looks round an' -" he gulped, unsure of how to tell the next part. "Well, they wasn't alone. With 'em was the goil I'd been kissin' a coupla days before- dey found 'er see. So I gets a slap off both goils, and since 'en, dey calls me Romeo. Cause I likes the ladies and dey likes me." He grinned, quite proud of this.

Romeo suddenly stopped, for they had reached the bottom storey of the tenement building and were standing in the doorway. The doorway was awful narrow, he noticed, and they were standing facing each other which didn't leave much of a gap between them. Romeo moved the tiniest step closer, and Lizzie laughed.

"Nothin' gets past youse, does it?" Romeo said.

She ignored the question and instead asked, "so. Say a girl wanted to kiss you. What'd you do; go kiss some other girl five minutes later?"

"Depends which goil it was," he replied, looking her dead in the eye. Lizzie moved slightly closer to him.

"Me," she breathed, and Romeo closed his eyes, ready for the kiss that was coming. His left hand moved up naturally, in order to cup the back of her head.

But the kiss didn't come. His hand met thin air, and a breeze slipped in the gap as he heard a chuckle from the stairs off to his right. He opened his eyes. Lizzie was sanding there smiling and he glowered reproachfully.

"Night. Romeo," she said.

"Wait-" he called after her retreating back. "Will I - I mean, can I see youse again?"

She paused, a shadow on the wall. "Of course." Like it was the most natural thing of all.

"But where?" he asked frantically.

There was a silence this time. "How about you come by here tomorrow night? We could go out. And who knows, one time you might even get that kiss." With that, she left.

Romeo stumbled outside into the cooler night air and leant against the wall. He let out a low exhale of breath. She was something, alright. But quite what, he didn't know.

On his way home, he reflected on the day's events, and cursed under his breath. Trust him. Of all the girls, all of them. He could get any one he wanted with his sweet smile and good looks. They would do anything. Romeo wasn't used to having to make the effort and work for it; he was fairly easy and so was his usual type of girl. Yet the one he couldn't get out of his head was the one he most wanted. But he was gonna get that girl, he swore. He would get Lizzie.