i

Sean sat at the table, watching as his mother bustled around in the kitchen. She was beautiful, with curly red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. Sean loved watching her as she wandered through the cramped space in their house, a bright smile lighting up her face. She always had this expression of joy when she cooked, and it was contagious. Sean would always smile when he saw how happy she looked as she was preparing dinner for the night. Somehow Sean didn't think anything else could give him the feeling of contentment he had when he saw how happy she was, and he would match her smile with one of his own.

ii

The best day of Sean's life was when his dad let him come to work with him. It was Sean's sixth birthday, and his dad was working on building the Brooklyn Bridge, which was nearing completion. Sean couldn't believe that his father was actually in charge of a whole crew of workers. And it was almost finished!

His father led him to the worksite, and showed Sean how the bridge was being built. Sean wandered around through the construction, being careful to stay only in the areas that his father had said were safe.

"I'm responsible for all of the men who work here," Sean's father told him, "and there is nothing better than knowing that you can take care of your people. Remember that."

And Sean always did.

iii

Being with the newsies has been one of the best things that had ever happened to Spot. He might not have a family anymore, but he was tough, and everyone knew it. His reputation was helped by the fact that he never smiled; hadn't smiled since his father was killed.

He didn't think that he had anything to smile about.

Six months after he had joined the newsies, one of the other boys tried to get the selling spot that he had staked out. Spot decided instead that he would fight back. He wasn't the best fighter, but he was determined, and although it was difficult, he eventually won the fight. As he watched the older boy lay bleeding on the concrete, his lips curved in a cold and cruel smile.

Nobody wanted to make Spot smile anymore.

iv

This was the day that Spot had been looking forward to. He was facing his enemy on the same bridge that his father had died building. And now he would take over Brooklyn. He would make his father's memory proud.

The fight didn't last very long; Bridge had long ago gotten scared of Spot's reputation. Everyone knew that while Spot didn't look that tough, he would always come through in the end, to win. In all the years that he'd been with the newsies, he had never actually lost a fight.

His fight against Brooklyn's leader was one of the hardest since that initial fight so many years ago, and Spot had to use every trick that he had picked up in order to win. Eventually, Bridge was defeated, and Spot had taken up the cane that signified the leadership of Brooklyn.

The Brooklyn newsboys all looked at him, their faces a mixture of fear and awe; Spot was responsible for them, and he would be taking care of them from now on.

A smile, not only caused by the exhilaration from the fight flickered across his face. He was finally making his father proud.

v

Spot lay in bed, his lover wrapped in his arms. He inhaled Racetrack's scent as he slept, and ran his hands over Race's shoulder. Something inside him stirred, and he placed a gentle kiss on Race's neck. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time – it had been years since he had been so utterly content. But now, as he watched Racetrack sleep, his breathing deep and even, Spot could feel a smile crossing his lips; for the first time since that fight long ago, it wasn't a malicious one.

Author's notes: Parkranger issues the "Five ways to make Spot smile" challenge, so I figured that this would be fun, especially since I've been battling writer's block for a while. Many thanks to Parkranger and PoisonIvory for the betas.

Til next time!

TSB