Nothing But Pennies
By Gailstorm
A/N: The Newsies belong to Disney. However London, Sunday, and other characters not in the original movie belong to me. I got the idea from Mandy Moore's song In My Pocket. She owns the lyrics, not me. Nobody sue, cause they wouldn't get anything any way.
Holden Christopher pulled his thin overcoat a little tighter around him to keep out the cold. The snow was falling harder now and he still had twenty papers left to sell. Trouble was the weather had kept prospective buyers indoors so it was getting more and more difficult to get rid of them. He sighed and trudged through the snow-ridden streets. He had his shoulders hunched over to prevent snow from falling down the back of his coat and shirt. Holden was concentrating so hard on avoiding large snow drifts and crying out inventive headlines that he failed to hear the footsteps behind him, or the words addressed to him. A hand appeared on his shoulder severely startling him. Holden dropped him New York Times newspapers and with an outstretched fist turned and decked his would be attacker. To Holden his action was pure reflex brought about by ten years of street life. He wasn't even aware of who he hit. He turned his attention to the sidewalk where his attacker still lay. On the ground sat a girl in what appeared to be the uniform worn by all cleaning ladies of the Stillwell household. The Stillwells were prominent members of the New York aristocracy. Mr. William Stillwell, master of the estate, earned his millions in the oil business. Holden knew that the women and girls employed by the Stillwells underwent much training and rigorous reference checks, not just anyone could work for the rich family. The girl pushed herself off the ground, brushing the snow from her dress. That's when he noticed that she was only wearing a dress, no coat or wrap to keep her warm. He also noticed that his punch had given her a split lip. She put a hand to her mouth wiping away the blood. In a cautious voice she spoke, " If you please sir, I only wanted to buy a paper." Deeply ashamed that he had hurt the young girl he handed her a paper. Her cold fingers slipped into her apron pocket producing a penny for which to pay him with. Holden shook his head and said, " No, you can have it for free." The girl gave him a shy smile and turned to go back to the warmth of the Stillwell mansion. She was climbing up the steps to the door when Holden yelled, " Hey! What's your name?" She called back, " My name's Sunday, sir!" With that she opened the door and rushed inside.