Disclaimer: As much as I might wish it, I don't own Newsies. The characters who weren't in the 1992 movie but are in this fic do, however, belong to me. As does the "plot."

She took one more step, turned around, and said her final goodbyes to the newsies of her city, Queens. Though she and her companion were sad at having to leave, they didn't show it, as that would make it harder on those who had to stay. The two said one last farewell and began moving forward, out of Queens and into a new realm entirely. The two girls walked silently, and were soon greeted by the sun, signaling the rest of New York would begin to bustle with people. The first girl was the shorter of the two, but not by much. Her hair was midnight black and went down to her chin, seeming to grow out of the dark gray hat she wore. The shadows made her eyes pop out, being that they were blue-green. The clothes she wore were that of any typical newsie: a sleeveless gray shirt, green suspenders, and a pair of loose capris.

Her companion was taller by two and a half inches. While most would think that's not much, she never let the other forget it. The hat she wore was a black fedora, hiding away her shoulder blade-length dirty blonde hair, which was currently pulled back and tucked into the hat. Her eyes were hazel, being brought out by the brown vest and white sleeveless shirt. It was obvious she liked layers, do to her white skirt laying on top of her tan capris. The capris stopped just below her knees, while the skirt was three inches above. Their pace in walking wasn't fast, nor was it by any means slow. When the taller girl heard her friend sigh, she asked,

"What's the matter?" her hazel gaze was met by a blue-green one.

"Do we havta go through Brooklyn?" At the response, she chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, it's quicker to get to Manhattan. Besides, Stretch, don't you got a cousin in Brooklyn?"

"Yeah... but I don't think we'll run into him." With that, their journey from Queens to Manhattan continued, half in silence, half in conversation. As they went, they saw people making their was to their jobs, the sun making its way up the sky.

"Queenie, how much longer?"

"Dunno. 'Bout two hours." They kept walking until, as Stretch feared, they reached Brooklyn. At first their path was just fine, though receiving many strange looks. It wasn't until nearing the Brooklyn Bridge that they encountered trouble.

"It's 15 cents to go through Brooklyn..." one of the boys said, "...each." The two girls looked at each other and started laughing. Their amusement made the guys around them look unhappy, some of them glaring.

"Would ya do the honors, Stretch?"

"Sure, Queenie, I can spot ya." The brunette walked up to the boy who had previously spoken, stopping about a foot in front of him. They stared at each other for a moment before she reached back and punched him square in the jaw. The boy stumbled and fell from the force, holding his mouth as blood dribbled from the corner of his lips. The fedora-wearing blonde crossed her arms and smirked, keeping herself from laughing again. "I think that oughta cover us both."

"What if it don't?" spoke a new male voice from behind the two of them. Queenie turned around to see several others standing there, attempting to trap them. She uncrossed her arms and cracked her knuckles.

"I can fix that." she said. She heard Stretch move next to her and sigh defeatedly.

"I was hopin' we wouldn't run into ya." she said, causing the boy to smirk. He was wearing a dark gray cap, much like Stretch's, regular brown pants held up by red suspenders, and a plaid, loose-fitting shirt. One of his pockets had a sling-shot in it, which was normal for Brooklyn newsies. In the loop of his belt, however, was a black, gold-tipped cane, which wasn't as normal.

"Don' wanna visit family?" he said. Queenie made the connection quickly. She turned away from the boys and looked at Stretch.

"That's your cousin?" The boy assumed she knew who he was, causing the disbelief in her voice. While she did know of Spot Conlon, she wasn't about to say it. She walked over, standing right in front of him, noticing the inch and a half difference in their height. She raised her hand, palm facing the ground, to represent it. "I see the... family resemblance." Upon seeing Spot's angry facial expression, she smirked.

"Spot, meet Queenie. Queenie, meet Spot." Stretch said quickly.

" 'Cause you're from Queens, right?" interjected one of the boys standing behind Spot. His comment made her chuckle.

"Nah, it's 'cause I'm Queen of the newsies." With that, the blonde grabbed Spot's cane and took off running, being chased by the angered newsie. The others would've followed to try and help, but were stopped by the brunette, who explained that if he wanted it back badly enough, he's get it on his own. They sat back and watched the boy chase her, all the while him shouting angrily and her laughing at him. Queenie stopped abruptly, turning around to face Spot, and was tackled to the ground by his inability to stop that fast. The watchers decided to walk over as the two stood up, Spot holding onto his cane tightly. Stretch was barely able to contain her amusement.

"You just got your cane stolen..." Queenie smirked triumphantly, receiving a glare from him.

"I'm still taller." he said.

"You promised you would never speak of that!"

"C'mon, Stretch." said the blonde, walking to her and putting an arm over her shoulders. "Don' wanna keep nobody waitin'." With that, the two continued their journey to Manhattan. "Nice to meet ya, Spot."

"Likewise." he replied, watching them leave.

"The rest of their walk was spent laughing about the different methods of revenge the leader of Brooklyn would try and how badly they would fail. But at last their destination was reached, and they walked into the lodging house for the local newsies. Upon entering, they saw an elderly man sitting behind a desk. The desk was littered with papers and books and was somewhat dusty.

"Kloppman, I presume?" Stretch said.

"Can I help ya?"

"We're here to see Jack. You know where he is?"

"Here." They heard a voice speak from behind. The two turned around and were met with the familiar sight and Jack "Cowboy" Kelly: 5"7, brown hair that was slicked back, though some strands escaped the grease and fell into his eyes, pin-striped vest with a red bandana tied around his neck.

"Cowboy."

"Queenie." They both spit into the palm of their hands and shook.

"Come on, I'll introduce ya to the boys." Jack said, smiling and walking past the two of them and starting up the stairs.

"Kelly!" The three stopped and looked at Kloppman. "Ya know the rules about girls!" Stretch put on her sweetest smile and matched it with her voice.

"Don't worry, sir, we're good girls." she said. They climbed the stairs, hardly able to contain their laughter. They entered a dorm room with bunk-beds lined up on either side. The newsies who occupied the room, upon seeing the two females, immediately stood and removed their hats. Jack went around and began naming people. One boy walked up, hat still being held to his chest. He was the same height as Spot, had a cigar in between his fingers, and was wearing a lop-sided grin.

"Dear me, what have we here?" he said. Jack chuckled and placed his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"This, Racetrack, is the two newsies from Queens, Queenie and Stretch." They nodded their heads to him. When they had been introduced, a new boy walked up to them. He had his hat and a pape in his hands. Of all the newsies, he was the only one wearing capris. His skin was the color of caramel, matching his eyes. The boy stood in front of Stretch, having a good four inches in height on her.

"Penny a pape, miss?" he said, holding it out. She laughed to herself.

"Pape?" The brunette smirked. "How much do you cost?" The question made several in the room laugh, including Queenie.

"I'm Mush." He held out his hand and had it grasped by her own. Jack moved from Race to a boy who's gaze hadn't left Queenie since she entered the room. He wore an eye-patch over his left eye, his right one being a bright blue color. The cowboy wrapped an arm around him, flickering his gaze between the boy and girl.

"This here's Blink." he said.

"Pleased to meet ya." Queenie said. Jack then stood in the middle of the room and pointed to different people as he introduced them. Afterwards, the boy had gotten an idea.

"I'm sure some of the fellas wouldn't mind helpin' me show youse around this town." When he said it, he was standing with his back to the others, facing the two girls. But it was more than obvious he didn't want to show them around Manhattan alone by how loud he had said the statement. Racetrack, Blink, and Mush walked up to them.

"We'd be honored." The expert poker player said, smiling. The six of them left the lodging house, beginning on their way to the building of "The World."

"So how long of a walk is it from Queens to here?" Blink asked.

" 'Bout two hours, if ya don't stop." Stretch said, hands in her pockets.

"Woulda been here sooner if we didn't havta stop in Brooklyn."

"Try the other way around." the brunette said, putting an arm over Queenie's shoulders. "Queenie here stole Spot Conlon's cane." The boys instantly stopped walking, staring in disbelief. Racetrack's mouth hung open, allowing his lit cigar to hit the ground. It took a minute before the initial shock wore off and Jack was able to form words.

"Ya did... what?" he said.

"Stole his cane. Pretty easy. I knew he wouldn't do nothin' to me, since Stretch is his cousin." Queenie explained. The four boys nodded their heads. They all continued to walk, silence engulfing them. Blink, at least, regained his senses and jogged forward, turning and standing in front of them to stop them.

"This, ladies and gents, is The New York World." he said dramatically. The two girls looked at the tall building, complete with gold dome, and then looked to its right, seeing large gates. The six of them walked up to said gates and stopped. "This is where we get our papes." The place vaguely reminded them of their own back in Queens.

"Any place else we need to see?" asked Stretch, looking to Mush. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Jack.

"Tibby's." he said. The cowboy couldn't quite explain it, but he didn't want Stretch's attention drawn towards the other newsie. He wanted it to him.

"You can buy me a drink, Jackie-boy." The six turned to look at the familiar face of Spot Conlon. The would've known it was him by the nickname only he used for Jack.

A/N: So, like it, love it, hate it? Let me know. Btw, the reason they're in Manhattan is explained in the next chapter, k?