Yah! This story got some more reviews and some great comments, so many thanks to you all. And some people have added this to their alerts...thanks so much for that and try to review to! I like hearing from you all.

I just wanted to say that I know territories had girl newsies and no, Hurst and Pulitzer may not have had a crackdown on them, but for the purpose of the story, just go with it. Oh, and thanks to candyk8. She is the brilliant mind behind the whole 'Queen of Queens' concept. I owe her.

So enjoy!

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The next morning found Twirls with a half asleep Bells tramping through Brooklyn on the way to Manhattan. So being Spot's messanger girl wasn't quite what she had in mind when she offered to help, but at least she knew what was going on, unlike Bells who had no idea why she was even going to Manhattan in the first place. And worse, dressed as a usual sixteen year old girl, meaning skirt, apron, pinafore, and cap. Bells was not in a good mood.

"So remind me ahgan why we'se goin' tah 'Hattan?" Bells asked sleepily as they pushed their way through the crowds of the morning market.

"Because," Twirls said, grabbing her sister's wrist so they wouldn't lose each other, "Spot needs us tah tell Kelley some'in."

"An' why couldn't he go himself?" Bells questioned further, wrinkling her nose in distast as they passed through the fish market. "God it smells. We shoulda taken da alleys."

"We'se have tah 'blend', memba?" Twirls reminded, still pulling Bells along behind her. Once they were out of the crowds, Bells promptly pulled away from her sister's tight restraint.

"A'right, ova da bridge we go then," Twirls said. She started walked, heading for the waterline, but Bells stayed rooted to her place.

"C'mon!"

"Hold on," Bells interjected, holding up a finger. She reached up and yanked hard at her cap, causing the pins holding it in place to come loose. Her blond hair fell down around her shoulders, which she finger-combed through, fluffing her bangs once before beginning to walk.

"Now we can go," she said, passing her sister and shoving the cap deep into her pocket. Twirls ran to catch up.

"Wha' happened tah blendin' in?" she questioned.

"We'se goin' tah see Kelley and da boys, right?" Bells said.

Twirls nodded.

"An' I'm no' goin' tah see all den fine newsboys lookin' like a laundry goil," Bells explained.

"Dat was kinda da point," Twirls stated flatly. She just shook her head at her sister. It was clear Bells had a little to much fondness for the male gender.

The pair made their way over the bridge as the sun rose and the grew hotter. Eventually, Twirls followed her sister's lead and removed her hat as well. It always didn't hurt to look good, and Twirls had to admit the Manhattan boys were a fine looking bunch.

"So," Twirls said once they reached the Manhattan base of the bridge. "We'se gotta find Jack."

"He could beh anywheah in dis city!" Bells waved her hands over her head as if to emphasize New York's vastness. "It ain't exaclty tiny."

"I know dat," Twirls replied, agitated. "But wheah do we look? Spot mentioned some'in 'bout a statue by da distribution office dat dey meet at between shifts."

Bells shrugged.

"Shoah, whateva, I don' care," she said crankily. "We don't exactly know wheah we'se goin' and I'm tired." She was angery that her sister had dragged her over the bridge at some ungodly hour to deliver a message. It seemed trivial and really stupid to her.

"God, okay, don' get mad at me," Twirls said defensively. "It was edda dis or the laundress's, memba?"

They walked a bit more until more until they entered the craziness that was Manhattan in the morningtime. It seemed everyone had somewhere to be, or something to sell or buy. The main street was crowded with vendors, shouting out prices and bargains in loud, blaring voices.

"Fish! Fresh fish!"

"Hot bread! Fresh! Buy the best loaves in the city!"

Among all this Bells and Twirls could here the familiar cries of the newsies.

"Penny a pape!"

"Baby born wit three heads!" Twirls smirked. She knew for a fact that it was actually two.

But among the crowds and buisness, one thing was promident: the gold dome of Pulitzer's office. To that Twirls pointed.

"There!" she said, jabbing Bells in the side for her eyes had closed. "Isn't the statue close by?"

Bells shrugged.

"Don' know, don' really care," she responded.

"Jus' try tah help me," Twirls said. "Da sooner we get dis done da sooner we go home."

Bells rolled her eyes, but said, "Fine. I guess da foist thing tah do would be tah find how tah get dere, since we don' know."

The girls had been in Manhattan before, but for fleeting instances and only with Spot, who knew his way around Manhattan almost as well as he did Brooklyn.

"Yeah, dat would be smart, huh," Twirls agreed. "Um..."

Bells sighed.

"Yoah makin' dis tah hard," she complained. "Dis is simple. Split up, find a newsie, meet back heah, and off we can go."

"Okay, let's go wit dat den," Twirls said, nodding. She didn't want to risk getting lost. "Meet back heah in say, ten minutes?"

Bells nodded and waved her sister off before turning to scan the street, fixing her hair while she did so. Migh' as well make a good foist impression, she though, continuing to look for a newsies, walking slowly down the sidewalk as she did so. She could hear them well enough; it was now simply a matter of seeing them.

But the crowds were immense! Bells began pushing her way through, shoving bodies aside and ignoring comments of "Ow! Rude girl!" and a slew of curses from a particularly fat butcher she jabbed in the back.

She made her way to the other side of the street and spotted a bench in front of a store that looked like a safe place to sit and continue her search.

Bells walked slowly down the sidewalk, careful to stay out of the street, and sank down gratefully onto the bench, fanning herself with one hand. It was hot.

"Eh! Ova heah!"

Bells' head turned at the shout and, a few yards away, she saw a boy in newsie garb motioning for a gaggle of boys in the street to come join him. Bells stood and brushed her skirt. Perfect.

She walked briskly down the sidewalk to the boy. His friends were still fighting their way through the crowd. She reached out a hand to tap him on the shoulder when WHACK! He swung his hand back and hit Bells across the face.

"Oww!" Bells put a hand to her face. It was sore to the touch.

"Oh, shit!"

The boy had turned and saw whom he had hit. "Are yah okay?"

"Skittery, man, wha' are yah doin' tah da goil?" a voice said and Bells heard the thump of boots. She had sank to her knees, eyes closed, gritting her teeth against the pain. She had always been a bit of a wimp, but the boy could hit.

"I didn' do nuttin'," the boy, Skittery, said.

"Yah bummah, yah wacked a goil!"

The voice was new.

"Are yah okay?" the voice was the same that had yelled at Skittery. Bells opened one eye and found herself face to face with a tan, Italian looking boy. His coal black eyes were filled with concern.

"Are yah okay?" he repeated, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it and the boy pulled her off her knees.

"T-Thanks," Bells stammered.

"Heah, take yoah hand away," the boy said, reaching up and gently pulling her hand down from her face. When he touched her cheek, Bells felt her stomach flip.

Calm down! she ordered herself, but her heart beat picked up.

"Ow, dat hoits," Bells said, wincing. The boy immedietly took his hand away.

"Nuttin' a lil' ice won' fix," he assured her. "No permadent damage heah."

"Ah, Docta Race tah da rescue!" one of his comrads, a boy with shaggy blond hiar and an eyepatch, taunted.

"Shuddup!" the boy ordered. Turning to Bells, he added, "I'm Racetrack Higgins, by da way."

Racetrack. Bells liked it. She liked him. Except for the whole Italian thing. But still, she would learn to live with that...

"I'm B-Madison." Bells caught herself right before she blew cover.

Oh, I'm blendin', Twirls, she thought. I'm blendin'.

Racetrack held out his hand. Bells took it and felt the same warmth spread through her again.

"Nice tah meet yah," he said, giving her hand a shake. Bells noted that he was not much taller than she was. Her eyes came up to his nose.

"An' these bummahs-" he pointed over his shoulder to the three boys-"are Skittery, Kid Blink an' Boots."

She looked them over and couldn't help but smirk when she noticed the flash of pink of Skittery.

"W'choo lookin' at?" Skittery asked angerly, noticing her face.

"Oh, nuttin'," she said. "I jus' nevah seen a newsie who wore pink."

Racetrack, Kid Blink, and Boots laughed.

Skittery went red and retorted, "Takes a true man tah wheah pink."

"You must be gena confused, den," Racetrack jabbed. That caused the boys and Bells to laugh harder.

"Oh, ow!"

Bells realized that the laughing made her face hurt more. Not a good idea.

"Hey, we'se jus got done sellin' da mornin' pape, and were goin' foah some breakfast. Wanna come an' we'll get yah some ice foah yoah face?" Race offered. Bells looked up at him and nodded, a smile spreading on her face.

"Shoah, dat sounds great," she said. Racetrack, always the gentleman, held out his arm. Bells linked hers through.

"Thanks ahgan," she added as they began walking. The trio ran off ahead while the two took a slower pace.

"Eh, shoah. It's no problem," Race replied. "Skittery was just bein' a bum. Yah jus' can' hoit a nice goil like yoahself."

Bells blushed and returned with, "Yah ain't tah bad yoahself."

Race smiled sheepishly.

"Eh, I try," he said with a grin.

Bells laughed. She was really liking Race. Everything about him just seemed so real and sweet. His personality, his charm, his wit...everything. And she had known him for what, five minutes?

Her eyes widened at the thought. Minutes. Ten. Twirls.

But then ahgan, part of her reasoned, she was the one who had tah tell Cowboy some'in, no' me.

And with that she smiled even wider and walked away with Race.

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Okay, slightly cheesy, but these chapters are nesessary. You will all see where it's going soon. Soon, soon.

And for all those Twirls fans, she's got a nice little bit in the next chap.

Write and review!

-iheartron547