Wow! Two stories in one day! I'm on a role lol. This is intended to be part of a series of oneshots, so you may see more of these two. :) Michaela belongs to the author who has Doll in her story, her name is Writress, she's really cool lol. Anyway, this is part of a group of oneshots, revolving around Brooklyn. So, without further ado, HERE IT IS!

Disclaimer: I do not own newsies, or Michaela, only Doll.

Racetrack walked into Brooklyn, not quite sure what to think. He was meeting with Spot, since he owed Spot money, and Race was scared crapless. Why? This was Spot Conlon he owed money too. It wasn't fair that Doll had told him, which he frowned at. 'I knew not to trust that lousy Brook!' he thought grouchily. Sure, he liked the Brooks, but the birds…. Well, he could live without having to deal with Doll and Bear telling Spot everything.

He was at the docks now, and the newsies watched him go by. Others just ignored him, he saw Spot sitting on his throne, and Doll sitting a couple crates lower, picking at her nails. Spot smirked when he saw Race, "Well, well, well, if it isn't my good friend Racetrack Higgins," climbing down from the crates, he could see Race's fear, instead of being the friendly Spot he was earlier, he turned cold, glaring and poking Race in the chest with the end of his cane, "Where's my money Higgins?"

Race gulped, but someone new intervened, "Hey Spot, mind if I talk to Doll for a second?" Race looked over at the boy. He was scrawny, with black hair, green eyes and thick eyelashes.

"Hey Michael," Doll jumped down from the crates, and spit-shake with Michael. Race stared dumbly. Why wasn't Spot killing the guy? "Hey Spot, Michael and I are gonna head down to 'Hattan, that ok?"

"Sure, take Race wit' ya, after he gives me my money," Spot glared again, and Racetrack handed over the money, which probably had a few extra cents too. Spot smirked, pocketing the money, "Go, but bring Doll back in one piece, and if she comes back wit' even a scratch on her I'm soakin' ya."

He watched Doll roll her eyes, "Don't worry about me Spot, I'll be fine," Doll kissed Spot on the cheek, and started walking back towards Michael and himself, "See ya later Spot!" Race couldn't be more confused. As soon as they were off the docks, Doll said, "Michaela, this is Racetrack, Race, this is Michaela."

"Didja have ta tell him I'm a goil?" Michael, wait, Michaela said, with a more feminine voice.

"Don't worry about Race, he's not gonna tell anyone. You aren't going to, right Race?" Doll replied, narrowing her eyes at Race.

"Don't worry I won't tell," Racetrack replied, taking a cigar and lighting it, "why'd ya tell me anyway?"

"Because Race, Spot and I trust you; and since Michaela will be sellin' in 'Hattan, I figured she could have a confidant. Ya know, someone we can trust to help her and NOT give away her secret." Doll replied. 'Wow, she really must want me to help Michaela,' Race thought, taking a drag from the cigarette.

Michaela groaned, "Doll, I'll be fine on my own. But if you insist… I guess I'll be fine. But why not Bounce?" Race couldn't blame her for complaining, he was just glad Doll hadn't killed the girl yet, because… well… Brooks were tough, and didn't take crap. But it seemed that Michaela had been accepted.

"Cause Bounce will blab about you. Race wont," By now, they were at the Bridge, and Doll stopped, "I'll let you two get acquainted. Have fun." Before Michaela or Race could protest Doll had already left.

"So…" Race said, trying to think of something to say, "You like playin' cards?"

"Yep."

"Really?" Racetrack chuckled, throwing his cigar on the ground and continued walking with Michaela to Tibbys, "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

Well, there you have it! ^^ Hope you enjoyed it, I am writing more one shots, so this is gonna be part of a larger collection of one shots! whoo! Hope you enjoyed this one. :) and if you like the two, I might possibly write more with everyone's favorite spunky Italian, so feel free to ask. But mostly they will have Brooklyn newsies in it.

Keep Carrying the Banner,

JeNnIcA-iS-tHe-BoMb