Here it is, the next chapter to the fanfiction I shouldn't be writing. Sorry BB, I'm setting you in a drawer for a while, but am currently working on the "Miracle Jack scene" thanks.

WHEN SHIVERING IN MY SHOES

I HOLD MY HEAD ERECT

AND WHISTLE A HAPPY TUNE

SO NO ONE WILL SUSPECT

I'M AFRAID

-The King and I 'Whistle a Happy Tune'

All the girls that worked at Winchester Books were wealthy young women with respectable families. They gossiped constantly, and hated the newsies. All newsies except one: Spot Conlon. I overheard girls talking about him behind shelves while they stocked.

"Did you hear about Betsy-Lynn?"

"No,"

"Well it was horrid!"

"What happened?"

"She dropped her handkerchief right in front of Spot!"

"Oh my! What did he do?"

"Walked right by!"

"Oh my! The shame!"

It was hilarious to hear about my friends escapades with the young women of New York. He turned down dates with an amazing amount of them every week. I have been working at WB for about two weeks, with only glimpses of Spot once and a while. Dawn was my constant companion and conspirator of evil. We were best friends, with good reason.

It was on a calm sunny day that scandal rocked Winchester.

"Belle, someone is here for you," Alissa huffed. I winked at Dawn and headed to the front with Alissa.

"Who?" I asked.

"Someone," she huffed again, her head obnoxiously high in the air. She pointed with angst to the figure leaning up against the front desk.

"I brought you lunch," Spot said, smirking.

"Spot?" I asked, aghast.

"Who else Princess?" he asked.

"Princess?" Alissa just had to put her two cents in.

"Belle heah is an honorary newsie, youse didn't know dat dollface?" Spot asked a now-peeved Alissa.

"No I didn't," she gave one last angry huff before disappearing into the back room.

"There goes my reputation Spot," I sighed dramatically.

"Youse neva had one Princess," he said. His accent made me wonder.

"What happened to that adorable little Irish accent Shane Thomas Conlon?" he winced at his full name.

"Still here lass, but donna call me that again," he said.

"There tis that dear accent that twould make any lass' heart break in two," I said in my own accent.

"Never forget where ye are from Belle," he scolded. I ate the lunch he had brought me as we talked about meeting up again.

"I canna, no matter how hard I try!" I laughed.

"I'll see youse around," he left, his Brooklyn accent back in it's proper place.

"Sure thing," I smiled.

"You think he still likes you?" Dawn's voice came from behind me.

"I have no idea, but I still think he's crazy!" I laughed heartily as I cleaned up the front counter and arranged a pile of orders. Customers came and went, hours passed. I just thought back on the days when taking care of my sheep, Molley, was my first priority. Dawn and I walked home and I went to sleep early. Thanking her for the job once again.

I was standing in my kitchen in Ireland, Shane was next to me. "Mrs. Vizza, can Belle come to the fair with me and pa today?" his accent wasn't buried under a New York polish.

"O' course lad," my mother smiled.

"Thanks Ma!" I ran to hug her.

"Be back by nightfall!" she scolded as Shane and I ran to his house next door. He lifted me up into the back of his father's wagon. For a seven year old boy, he was strong. He also had good manners for one so young.

"Belle, are you gonna be me lass someday?" he asked.

"I donna know Shane, we're far too young to worry 'bout those things," I smiled, slapping his arm lightly.

"Ya never can know! I mean, look at your own Ma and Fa," he said, "They fell in love at our age!"

"They were lucky ones Shane, let's jus' focus on the fair!" I giggled as we came up on the tents full of livestock. We wandered around, hand in hand for the afternoon. Then my dream shifted to something darker.

I was in New York, in an alleyway, I was nine.

"Father, help me!" I called out. Mr. Conlon stood in front of me swaying.

"Where is Shane?" he asked.

"I don't know!" I cried, desperate to protect my friend from his dangerous father.

"Tell me!" he bellowed.

"I don't know!" I said again, tears streaking down my dirty young face, I backed up against the brick wall tighter.

"I'm right here!" an angry Shane with half a New York accent ran into the alley and decked his drunken father with one anger-fueled blow. I ran to cling to him.

"I'll protect you Belle, I promise!" he hugged me to his dirty shirt. I let my tears fall as my dream shifted again. This time to the train platform.

"Shane I'm scared," my dainty white gloved hand in his bulky be-mittened one.

"I am too, how can I protect you when you aren't here with me?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he looked down at me. We were eleven, he had already grown wiry and taller than me. His potential came through though, he would be strong someday.

"You've always protected me from bullies and the Delancy's" I said sorrowfully. "But I won't be able to see you every day!" I cried. The tears still falling down my face.

"I love you Belle," Shane's face was the mask it was today at age sixteen. Cold, dangerous, and full of authority. It foreshadowed his rising to the position of King of Brooklyn.

"I love you too!" I cried as the train pulled in. For eleven year olds, these words meant more than they do as fifty year olds. My mother came and separated us. I hugged Shane fiercely as she pulled me away from him, sobbing.

He stood there, bravely, as the train left the station. My eyes never left him as he became lost in the haze of smoke, animals, people, and different languages. Shane Thomas Conlon was mine, and I was his.

I felt someone shaking my shoulders.

"Belle, are you okay?" Dawn woke me up. My face was wet and I was shaking.

"Yeah, nightmare," I said.

"You were murmuring 'I love you' and crying, dreaming about your parents?" she asked. Ashamed of the truth, I just nodded mutely. "It's alright," she handed me a glass of water that I drank gratefully.

"I guess I just miss them a lot," I said.

"We all did," Dawn hugged me. "We have work in the morning, go back to sleep."

This time my sleep was light and dreamless, although I prayed for Spot's face to once again rule my dreams.

I was actually quite scared of living in New York again. Race was here. Jack was here. Spot was here. Those were the three sentences that held me in the Lodging House at night when the nightmares about my past struck. The most horrid nightmare was of the day I learned my parents died.

"Belle, I'm sorry. Your mother and father have died in a fire." it was blunt. Mr. Chrystal didn't even spare a second glance as he walked away. He left me standing in front of my house, alone and crying.

"Ma," my voice was raspy. "Father," it sounded like chalk on a chalkboard.

"I love you!" I cried out.

Dreaming was a dangerous thing that brought painful memories back from the dead. I tossed and turned many a night, not showing any of my pain during the day. I was perfectly normal, happy, silly Belle. And it worked, until one night when everything began to come back together. The night Spot asked me to a show with him.

"Would youse go to a show wid me? As me goil? Tonight?" he asked, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, I would love to," I smiled, remembering the words he said the day of the train platform and wondering if he still felt that way. It's been five years, don't push it Belle, my brain was rational.

"I'm glad I can protect youse again," he hugged me. Reminding me of the night he made that promise.

"I'm glad to be protected, I smiled into his dirty shirt once again.

"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, looking up at him.

"The show is magic and Shakespeare, I thought maybe you'd like it," Spot looked sheepish.

"I would love it!" I smiled. Jack entered, ruining the moment.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked, knowing the answer and looking rather smug about the whole thing.

"Nope," I would not give a testosterone filled, jealous friend the opportunity to beat up my other testosterone filled, jealous friend. No matter how much he egged me on.

"So Conlon, what happened to Amy and Charlotte?" Jack asked.

"Who and who?" I looked up at Spot's angry face.

"No one of importance," Spot said through gritted teeth. That did not work out well at all. Come one Belle, think!

"Spot, maybe you'd better head home. I'll see you later, okay?" I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek before watching him slam the old door behind him. It was then that I turned to Jack in anger.

"You may be jealous, but I will not have you ruining my time with Spot. It has been five years Francis Sullivan, or have you forgotten the fact I'm your friend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm only trying to protect you! Spot is a total player. He has a new girlfriend every week and I just don't want to see you hurt," Jack pleaded.

"Just stay out of my business," I said, turning and leaving. I looked around Central Park before I found Racetrack.

"Race, I have a problem," I admitted.

"What is it Princess?" he asked.

"I have a date, what should I do?" I asked.

"With?"

"Someone," I avoided answering.

"Be yourself, trust me Belle, boys hate it when you try to act the way you think they'd want you to," Race said seriously. "Spot hates girls who are clingy or act tough, Jack hates girls who are airheads around him. I hate girls who are against gambling, or think horses are 'pretty' understand where I'm going?" he asked. I nodded and thanked him. I hurried back to the lodging house to tell Dawn.

"Dawn, I need your help with something!" I said.

"What?"

"Picking out an outfit for my date with Spot. I don't want to look to casual, or too dressy, can you help?" I asked.

"Of course," so we set about looking at all of my clothes and picking out an outfit for me to wear tonight. We decided on a pale blue skirt and a plain blouse with a small broach.

"Thanks so much!" I said.

"No problem," I said.

"Where's Princess?" I heard Spot's voice from downstairs.

"Getting dolled up foah some date," Jack sounded jealous. I heard Racetrack snort.

"Some date eh?" Spot asked.

"Let's go," I motioned to Dawn and we left the room quietly.

"Spot! You're on time!" I flew down the stairs into his waiting embrace.

"Let's get going," he smiled at me.

"Wait...Spot is yoah date?" Race asked, aghast.

"Yep," I smiled as I left the Lodging House with Spot. This was gonna be a fun night.