A/N Sorry for taking so long! Enjoy the chapter, please leave a review!


Stretch's first instinct was to run like hell. But, remembering she was on a rooftop, that option quickly dissolved. From what she saw, it seemed like Jack was trying to figure out a way to explain himself.

"What are you doing?" she asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"Well, ya didn't look... I thought I should... Uh..." Jack mentally scolded himself. He sounded like an idiot. While trying to think of something intelligent-sounding to say, the cowboy noticed just how perfectly the setting sun framed Stretch. The shadows made her eyes pop, and her skin seemed to glow. She looked... ethereal? Was that the right word? He remembered David using it to describe something. Jack somehow managed to mutter something about going back inside and climbed back down the ladder. He heard Stretch following him, and only looked back when he was going through the window. He stopped, watching her come inside.

"You got a nice voice." The Santa Fe-loving newsie was barely able to finish his comment before the girl's fist connected with his lip, splitting it. He stumbled back a few steps, but didn't fall.

"Ya tell anybody about what ya saw or heard, an' I'll soak ya." she said threateningly before walking off, back down the stairs. Jack placed two fingers to his bottom lip and brought them down to look at them. They had traces of blood, however small they might be. He poked at the new wound with his tongue, being met a taste of copper. For some reason, the stinging sensation made him smile.

Maybe I can measure up... he thought. Jack then walked down to the dorm room on the second floor, hearing Kloppman tell the boys it was lights out. When he entered the room, he saw that the two girls were gone, having been given separate rooms from the other newsies.

That night, Jack slept soundly.


Stretch hadn't gotten any sleep. She yawned and sat up from the bed she had been laying in. Queenie was already up, dressing herself. The brunette followed suit and rose from the bed, sighing as she did so. Her best friend walked over to her after placing her black fedora atop her head.

"Tired?" she asked.

"As hell." was the response she received. The blonde chuckled and left the room, going downstairs to wait for her friend. It wasn't long before Stretch and several other newsies came down and walked outside, being greeted by a soft breeze. In silence, the two girls walked side-by-side to The New York World and leaned against the brick wall next to the closed iron gates. After about five minutes, there was a crowd of newsies waiting to hear the circulation bell. When at last it rang through the air, the boys, of course, allowed the girls to go first.

Except for Jack Kelly, that is. As he was walking through the now open gates, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," said Queenie, "Ladies first." Stretch smirked and chuckled, walking in front of him with her friend. The wooden ramp creaked beneath them as the many newsies piled on, forming a line. The red shutters behind the barred counter were lifted, and an old man stood behind them. (A/N Please remember this is after the strike, so Weasel is gone.) He smiled kindly at them and opened up the book that lay before him.

"How many, miss?" Queenie returned the smile and removed two quarters from her pocket, sliding them underneath the bars.

"100 papes." she said. He took the quarters and they were quickly replaced with the papers. She picked them up and walked slowly down the stairs, waiting for Stretch once again. The brunette followed soon after, going with Queenie to the gates before parting ways. You see, most of the boys were wrong in thinking the two girls would sell together. While both girls were quite alike, they had different methods of selling their papes.

Stretch walked down the street, holding 100 papes in her arms and looked at the people opening their stores. She saw several men standing outside of one and walked up to them. As she was approaching, she heard them discussing some boxing match. At first, they didn't seem to notice her, but when she cleared her throat, they stopped talking.

"Buy a pape?" she said. All three said no, and went back to talking. When Stretch didn't continue on her way, they questioned what she wanted. "Sell all my papes, o' course." she replied.

"Sell 'em somewhere else!" said one of the men. It obviously didn't occur to them that Stretch wasn't a quitter. After all, she was from Queens. After about fifteen minutes, some very inappropriate language, and a dollar being pooled together amongst the three men, the 5'2 brunette was whistling happily, walking away with the dollar in her pocket.


"Come on, help a lady out?" said Queenie, smiling sweetly. She only had ten papes left to sell, and she'd be done for the day. The ten boys she was talking to dug into their pockets, searching for a coin. One by one, they boys stepped forward, placing a penny into Queenie's palm and taking one of her papes. When they were gone, she put the change in her pocket, where the rest was, and smiled brightly and tipped her fedora at the ten boys before her.

"Thanks fellas." she said, and turned around to go back to the lodging house. She instead bumped into someone an inch shorter than herself, and looked into the eyes of none other than Spot Conlon. A smirk was playing across his lips as he and Queenie began walking back together. (Well, more she was walking and he just happened to follow her.)

"That's how ya sell your papes?" he said, not looking to her as he spoke.

"It works, don't it?" she replied, not looking away from the street ahead. Queenie heard a chuckle escape the boy next to her and she felt a smile tug at her lips. As they turned a corner, they saw Tibby's, a few people standing outside. Spot reached over to the blonde and placed a hand on her arm, causing her to look at him. "What?" she said.

"Let's get somethin' to eat." Queenie nodded and went into the restaurant, requesting a seat from the man behind the booth that was next to the door. As it was a little after lunchtime, Tibby's was only half full, and allowed the two to get a booth in the corner. They both ordered a coke from the waiter who sat them, and soon after, an uncomfortable silence engulfed them.

The way he's smirkin' bothers me. Queenie thought. Like he knows somethin' I don't.

The waiter came back with their drinks and two menus, telling them he would return in a few minutes. As the girl looked over the choices, she couldn't shake the feeling she was being stared at. She chanced a quick look up from the menu in her hands to Spot and discovered that his blue gaze rested on her. They both remained quiet, Queenie picking up her coke and taking a gulp.

"You're rich." he said, as if he'd been waiting for the perfect moment to say it. The leader of Queens nearly spit out her drink, taking a moment to swallow it and breathe.

"Nah. My parents are rich, I ain't." she replied. " 'Sides, how'd ya know that?"

"I got little birds all over." he said, the smirk never leaving his face. Thankfully, the waiter returned and took their orders: A tuna sandwich for Spot and French fries for Queenie. Just as the Brooklyn newsie opened his mouth to saw something more, he was cut off by the ringing of the bell attached to the door of Tibby's. In came Blink, who saw them and walked over, taking a seat next to Queenie. He and Spot glared at each other for a moment or two before he turned to the girl next to him, flashing a dazzling smile.

"How do ya like Manhattan so far?" he asked. The blonde returned his smile.

"It's nice. Sellin's pretty easy."

The two people sitting opposite him kept talking, but Spot wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying. It had happened to quickly: One minute, he and Queenie were talking, the next they are. It was beginning to make him feel like a third wheel. But that was completely impossible. Spot Conlon was never a third wheel. The thought itself was just... wrong!

"...but don't worry, the cow got back just fine." said Blink. Queenie laughed and smiled, which became infectious, and made the one-eyed newsie smile even more. Spot vaguely wondered what they were talking about. The food came, and Blink ordered a coke, but nothing else. The Brooklyn newsie noticed him steal a fry or two from Queenie's plate, which, for one reason or another, irritated him. His glare hardened as he took a bite from his tuna sandwich.


"Ya cheated!" cried Racetrack as Stretch laid down her hand. The girl just smirked at him, holding out her hand, palm up, to collect her winnings. With a groan of protest, and several gaping newsies who'd been watching the game of poker, Race handed over fifty cents. The brunette pocketed the money and looked around at the faces turned to her.

"Anybody else?" she asked. The newsies may be many things, but they were smart enough to know that when someone beat Racetrack, they had no chance in hell of winning. When no one took her offer, Stretch shrugged and stood. The bunk room was empty, aside from the give boys in it with her. She decided to go on a walk around Manhattan and enjoy the nice day. As she left the lodging house, a familiar face came speeding up to her, quick as a lightning bolt.

"Heya, Speed!" Stretch exclaimed. The boy was tall, about the same height as Cowboy, with black hair that fell somewhat into his green eyes. He looked a little out of breath, which was strange because the boy ran almost everywhere, earning him the nickname of Speed. "Why are ya here? Somethin' happen in Queens?"

"Queenie's parents are lookin' for her!" he almost shouted. He realized how loud he'd been and quieted down. "I told 'em to look in Harlem, but they said they'd be checkin' here afta!"

"We gotta find Queenie." said Stretch, "She's prolly done sellin', so where would she go..." There was a pause as the two thought, and they slowly looked at each other, speaking at the same time.

"Food."

"There's a place called Tibby's a little ways away, let's go there first." she said, and they rushed off. Speed had to slow himself down so the girl could keep up with him, even though Stretch considered herself to be pretty fast. The search ended early, though, when they saw Queenie and two others walking towards them. As they came closer, the girl saw her friend walking with a very pleased-looking Spot, and a rather grumpy Blink. Queenie stopped speaking when she looked forward and saw Speed and Stretch coming towards her. The two stopped in front of them and the shortest one instructed the tallest one to relay the message to his leader. He did so, making Queenie curse under her breath.

"I told Lucy not to tell them..." she muttered. Blink then spoke up.

"Who's Lucy?" he asked. Speed and Stretch once again spoke simultaneously.

"Her maid." Blink blanched. (A/N Yay alliteration!)

"Her what?"

"I'll explain later." she said, "Speed, thanks for the heads up. Tell everybody nothin's changed, and not to tell my parents anything." The boy nodded, shook hands with her, and sped off towards Queens. "C'mon, let's get in the lodgin' house." They did as she suggested, and she walked up to the counter which Kloppman was sitting behind. "If two people come lookin' for me and call me Rose, I'm not here. Or in Manhattan."

"Know what they'll look like?"

"A man and a woman, real fancy clothes." Queenie answered. The elderly man nodded and went back to reading his book. The four newsies climbed the stairs into the dorm room, and struck up a conversation with Racetrack.

"She beat me!" he said in astonishment, still in the process of accepting his loss. The blonde girl chuckled.

"She's the best." she commented. Stretch smirked with pride.

" 'Cept in height." Spot said, "There she comes in last."

"Shut up, Sean."

"Shut up, May."

"Shut up both o' you!" said Racetrack.


A/N Hope you guys liked, the next chapter should be out soon!