A/N: I'm back. Here's chapter two! Just to let you all know, the spelling of "Crutchie" is different from that of the movie. I've been writing it the way they do for the Broadway musical. Sorry for any confusion.

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies in any way, blah, blah, blah…you just want me to cry, don't you?

The newsies broke out into cheers as the distribution bell began to ring. The gates opened, Jackie still holding on; she grabbed a nearby rope and swung down to the ground. The newsies lined up for their papers, Jackie at the front, congratulating her on her win against the Delancey's. The aforementioned brothers stalked past Jackie with furious glares on their faces.

"See you tomorrow, Cowboy," Morris sneered. His left cheek had already begun to swell up.

"You're as good as dead, Cowboy," Oscar threatened. Jackie let out an amused chuckle while keeping her face in an uninterested expression. She walked over to the distribution desk and rapped on the wood.

"Oh, Mistah Weasel," she sang, still looking as bored as ever. Behind the metal bars, the wooden curtain was pulled up and away, revealing a middle aged man with a dirty face. His expression was stuck in a disgusted sneer.

"Alright, alright. Hold your horses! I'm comin', I'm comin'," he muttered. Jackie pushed her eyebrows together and raised them in an innocent manner.

"So, didja miss me, Weasel? Huh? Didja miss me," Jackie asked, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. The newsies behind her snickered and enjoyed the show. Jackie was naturally stoic and quiet, and it was a treat for them to see her so talkative and funny. Weasel, however, looked pained.

"I told ya a million times. The name's Wisel. Mistah Wisel, to you. How many?" Weasel's exasperated voice asked. Jackie had taken a paper, turned her back to him, and leaned against the metal bars. She unfolded the paper and scanned the pages.

"Don' rush me, I'm perusin' tha merchandise, Mistah Weasel," Jackie retorted smartly. There were a few more chortles from the boys. After another short moment, she refolded the paper and slapped a coin down onto the wooden counter of sorts, another bored expression gracing her features.

"The usual," she stated in a strong voice; she was a leader after all.

"Hundred papes for the wise ass," Weasel told Morris. "Next!" Jackie grabbed her papers and turned away. Racetrack took her spot. He smiled at Weasel.

"Mornin', your Honor," he greeted. He put his cigar to his lips and struck a match on a metal bar. "Listen, do me a favor, spot me fifty papes?" He lit his cigar and took a few puffs. "I gotta hot tip in the fourth, won' waste ya money."

"It's a sure thing?" Weasel asked him, a look of interest crossing his face.

"Yeah," Race replied. "Not like last time." Weasel didn't look the least bit reassured, but shrugged it off.

"Fifty papes," he told Morris. "Next!" After Race turned away, Crutchie hobbled up to the front.

"Heya, Mistah Wisel," he started, but whatever else he said was forgotten.

Racetrack sat down next to Jackie on the ledge of the ramp, opening a paper and skimming the headlines.

"Anythin' good this mornin'?" He asked Jackie, though he didn't expect a response from his stoic friend. Jackie doesn't respond, but instead looked up to find a little boy staring at her expectantly.

"'Ey, weren' you with Blue Eyes?" she asked him. In the background, Weasel's voice rang out again.

"Thirty papes for Crutchie. Next!"

"Well, ya wanna sit down?" She asked the little boy. She noticed how his brown eyes held a mischievous twinkle, like he knew a secret no one else did. He flashed a childish grin before obediently sitting down.

"Twenty papes, please," a voice asked behind her. It was one Jackie recognized, but couldn't place, though she didn't think too much of it. "Thanks." Jackie went back to skimming the morning edition, glancing over at the kid. He was staring at her in reverence. Though Jackie didn't show it, it made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Look a' dis," Racetrack began, "'Baby Born with Two Heads.' Must be from Brooklyn." Jackie was about to retort with an insult that would make a Conlon proud when Weasel yelled at some poor bloke.

"Hey, you got your lousy papes, now beat it!"

"I paid for twenty, but only got nineteen," the same barely familiar voice spoke behind her.

"Are you accusin' me of lyin', kid?" Weasel demanded. Okay. Now Jackie was interested. She stood to her feet, leaving her hundred papers in a pile next to Racetrack and the kid. She turned around and saw Blue Eyes talking with Weasel.

"No," he started, looking agitated. "I just want my paper." Jackie didn't break her stride as she walked over to the small stack of newspapers in front of Blue Eyes.

"He said beat it," Morris told Blue Eyes menacingly. Jackie flipped through the newspapers, counting them quickly.

"No," she drawled, "it's nineteen, Weasel." Jackie smirked, amused. "It's nineteen, but don' worry about it. It's an honest mistake. I mean, Morris, here, can' count to twenty with his shoes on," she said in a fake apologetic voice. Morris moved forward quickly, grabbing at the bars in front of Jackie's face, but she leaned just far enough back to be out of his reach. She turned her head toward Racetrack.

"'Ey, Race, will ya spot me two bits?" she asked, eyebrows raised. He fished in his pocket for a quarter and flipped it up to her. Jackie caught it effortlessly, and a brief look of annoyance flashed across Blue Eyes' face. Jackie smirked a bit wider at that, and turned back to Weasel.

"Another fifty for my friend," she stated, clapping Blue Eyes on the back. He looked torn between glaring at Jackie and refusing the offer. He chose to refuse.

"Oh, I don't want another fifty," he told Weasel with a grimace, but Morris had already handed the newspapers to Jackie, who in turn, shoved them into Blue Eyes' chest.

"Sure ya do. Every newsie wants more papes," she told him, as if it were the most obvious and natural thing in the world. She walked away from him, and grabbed her stack of newspapers, hoisting them onto her shoulder. Blue Eyes just glared and followed her down the ramp.

"I don't. I don't want your papes. I don't take charity from anyone," Jackie gave a light scoff at this notion, "I don't know you, and I don't care to." Alright. Those words stung just a little. Jackie just wasn't too sure why. "Here are your papes," Blue Eyes finished.

Jackie faced him abruptly, tilting her chin up and narrowing her eyes. Though she was quite a bit shorter than him, Blue Eyes looked more than a little intimidated as he stood in front of her with the thick stack of newspapers held out in front of him. The little boy from earlier rushed up to them, tugging on Blue Eyes' arm.

"Cowboy. They call him Cowboy," he stage whispered. Jackie pursed her lips; she knew she was supposed to act like a guy on the streets, but if people truly kept mistaking her as a guy, she wondered if she'd ever look like a proper lady. She banished the thought as soon as it came, though, and placed her papers into Mush's empty arms.

"Yeah, dey call me dat an' a lotta otha things, includin' Jack Kelly, which is what me mudda called me," she told them. "So, whatta they call you, kid?"

"Les, and this is my brother, David," he said excitedly, gesturing to Blue Eyes quickly. "He's older." Jackie smirked, looking up at David with a gleam in her eyes.

"No kiddin'," she joked. David just cast her a disappointed look. "How old are you, Les?" Jackie asked the kid, bending down to his height.

"Me? Near ten," he answered. Jackie furrowed her eyebrows together, twisted her mouth around and clicked her tongue a couple of times before replying.

"Near ten…well, that's no good. If anyone asks, ya seven." Les nodded, his eyes wide. "Ya see, younger sells more papes, an' if we're gonna be partners, we wanna be the best," Jackie told him. David's face contorted in annoyance and confusion, and he lightly pushed Jackie's shoulder back away from Les. She straightened up, glaring at David.

"Wait, who said anything about being partners?" David asked her. Jackie's eyebrows rose.

"Well, you owe me two bits, right?" David shrugged at her, an incredulous look on his face. "I'll consider that an investment," she told him. "We sell togetha, an' split…seventy-thoity, plus, you get tha benefit of obsoivin' me, no charge." Jackie smirked up at him smugly.

"Ah-ha!" David laughed. Jackie's smirk melted into a fierce glare.

"Ah-ha!" she mocked. As the three had been talking, the newsies who had already bought their newspapers gathered around them, listening intently. Crutchie hobbled over with his thirty newspapers and tapped David on the shoulder.

"Hey, you're gettin' the chance of a lifetime here, Davey." Crutchie leaned forward as to emphasize his next statement. "Ya learn from Captain Jack, here, ya learn from tha best." The other newsies murmured in agreement. The smug smirk returned to Jackie's face, much to David's chagrin. After a moment, a smirk of his own crept onto his face, causing Jackie's mouth to twitch once.

"Well, if he's the best, then how come he needs me?" David asked aloud.

There was a low chorus of "Ooohhhh's" amongst the newsies. Jackie's smirk stayed on her face, though her eyes did narrow fractionally at David. She looked around at her newsies, seeing that most of them had dropped their nonchalant and care-free attitudes. She took this as them trying to decide whether David was someone they'd need to worry about or not. Even Mush's ever-present smile was gone from his face; instead, his eyebrows were pushed together and his lips were in a pout. Though Jackie would never admit it, she found his expression endearing. She looked at David once more, still smirking.

"Look, I don' need you, pal," she stated confidently. She grabbed Les's shoulder, pulling him toward her gently, ruffling his hair. "But I ain' gotta cute little brudda like Les, here, ta front for me. With this kid's puss, and my God given talent," at this comment, David rolled his eyes, "we could move a thousand papes a week." She leaned down to Les. "So, whattaya say, Les? Ya wanna sell with me?"

"Yeah!" Les exclaimed, grinning widely. Jackie straightened up again and looked at David expectantly.

"So we gotta deal?" David pursed his lips, and sighed.

"It's gotta be at least fifty-fifty," he bargained. It was Jackie's turn to think for a second.

"Sixty-fourty, I forget tha whole thing," she said finally.

David nodded and held out his hand. Jackie smirked and spit in her own palm, but before she could grasp his hand in hers, he snatched his arm away. She looked at him, confused.

"'Sa matta?" she asked loudly. David looked at her as if she was crazy.

"That's disgusting," he replied.

The newsies around them snickered, but Jackie's face was frozen. She blinked once; then twice…then her shoulders began to shake. After a second or two, Jackie started full out laughing.

"Ha ha ha, oh man. 'Tha's disgustin',' I'll have ta use dat one!" Jackie choked out in between barks of laughter. The rest of the newsies looked on in wonder and confusion. Kid Blink was the last of the newsies to grab his papers, and he walked over to Jackie and David with his one eyebrow set high on his forehead.

"Wow, Davey," Kid Blink started, "what'd you say? I haven't seen Cowboy laugh like that in…foreva!" David was slightly confused by that comment.

"Nevermind the laugh, I don't think I've eva seen Cowboy smile!" Snipeshooter claimed. Jackie had calmed down enough to where she was just chuckling when she grabbed her papers back from Mush.

"Ah, shuddit, ya bummas," she laughed out. She began walking away and the rest of the newsies followed, David and Les pushing through to the front to get next to Jackie.

"The name of the game's volume, Dave," she addressed him, not even bothering to look his way. "You only took twenty papes…why?" She stopped, finally turning to face him. The rest of the newsies stopped with them; for some reason, they were all interested in how this new partnership, or dare they say, friendship, was going to start.

"Bad headline," David shrugged. Jackie's mouth twisted for a moment, then, shock of all shocks, the smirk was back. Who could blame her? Her best friend was the infamous Spot Conlon; everyone knew that. Everyone except David.

"Tha's tha foist thing ya gotta loin. Headlines don' sell papes, newsies sell papes." The newsies laughed in agreement. "Ya know, we're what holds this town together. Without newsies, nobody knows nothin'!" Jackie claimed with finality, sweeping her arm down in emphasis.

At that moment, a beautiful dark haired girl in a school uniform was spotted by the newsies, and they all took their hats off in respect, making a few comments here and there; even David and Les joined them. Jackie, however, just widened her smirk, and tipped her hat up ever so slightly at the passing girl. The brunette blushed and smiled shyly at Jackie before rushing away.

"Ya know," Racetrack mused, "I finds it ironic that you'se is the lady killa among us, Captain Jack." Jackie let out a bark of laughter, and a ripple of chuckles went through the newsies. David was thoroughly confused.

"Baby born with three heads!" Specs called out.

"Welcome to Hell, Davey," Jackie warned the teenager. She flashed him a rare smile, to which he gave yet another confused look.

A/N: Well. There it is.

Review. Come on. Click the button. Jackie would want you to. And you wouldn't want to disappoint Jackie, would you?

Until next time, goodbye, my lovelies!