-1Chapter Four

Cowboy's Warning

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies.

Of course her mother and sister questioned why Brooklyn had bought five newspapers. Antoinette immediately suggested something to Mary Ann that would spread like wildfire unless Brooklyn cut her off immediately. Her sister suggested that she was secretly meeting with a newsboy and because she was so fond of him she bought as many papers as she could to help him along. Upon hearing this, their mother gave Brooklyn a warning glare.

"You simply cannot believe something so absurd, mother!" Brooklyn objected. "I am engaged, I would never do such a thing. I try not to dishonor the family."

"You try not to," Antoinette teased. Brooklyn rolled her eyes.

"I happen to have a good -acceptable- reason for buying five papers," she said as she put them down on the coffee table in the foyer. She then explained her story about Germ, making sure to exclude Spot in all aspects. While her sister gave a small smile and an "aw", her mother obviously did not approve. She raised her nose slightly and shook her head. Then she quickly shooed her daughters to ready themselves for supper.

"Is Cal 'gracing'," she said 'gracing' rigidly, as if it was a swear word she didn't want to say. "Us with his presence tomorrow or will I me on my own?" Mary Ann seemed to brighten up when her daughter mentioned her -forced- fiancé, especially at the dinner table. For the Pulitzer women only saved the most important of subjects for table. She looked to her daughter and shook her head.

"No darling, he's not going to be able to make it tomorrow," she replied, a pinch of sorrow in her tone. Mentally Brooklyn praised the good Lord for this luck. "He has some business to attend to in the Bronx. Why do you ask?

"Oh no special reason," she replied. Taking a dainty sip of water, she paused a moment before continuing. "I was thinking of visiting Uncle Joseph tomorrow. Don't make that face; he already said I could go. I wrote to him a week ago." Mary Ann looked taken aback at her daughter's tone, which had gained a bit of edge.

"Very well then, as long as he knows," Mary Ann replied.

Truth was Brooklyn's uncle didn't know that she was going for a visit. But he had told her that she could go whenever she pleased. And 'whenever she pleased' included the following day. Sure, she would have to miss a chance to talk to Spot-

No!

She would not think of him. Okay, they were friends, but she did not want to think of him as anymore than that. Because if she did, she would get ideas. And anyone who knew Brooklyn knew that her ideas were not the best or brightest. They also usually included doing something that could completely dishonor her family if she was caught. But that's why she never got caught.

But she wouldn't think of Spot, so there would be no problems. Simple as that, no exceptions. She would just go take a visit to her uncle, and casually ask around for the leader of the Manhattan newsies, Jack Kelly. She had some questions to ask him.

She took her last bit of chocolate mousse cake and a sip of hot chocolate before excusing herself from the table. Quickly she made up to her room and she had Lily help change her. While brushing her long locks out, she walked out onto the balcony that her room had and looked around Brooklyn. Few people were walking below her. They walked quickly, probably wanting to get to the warmth of their houses. Freezing December air had brought in grey clouds, blocking the night sky. There was sure to be snow on the ground when she awoke.

♥♥♥♥♥

And surely there was. Brooklyn discovered her predictions of the weather correct. There was an inch of snow on the ground, and it was still coming down. She looked out her large windows briefly to see what kind of traveling weather it was. She wouldn't want to freeze poor Rupert or push their horses too far. That would be terribly selfish of her. But the snow was light, and it wasn't icing over. So perhaps it would be an easy ride. She would have to ask Rupert when she went.

Quickly Lily helped her dress in a thick wool outfit. Though it was wool on the inside, the outside showed an emerald green velvet dress. Her light honey hair was pulled up and twisted into a bun, and then an emerald green hat was perched upon it. She put on her winter boots; they were black with a wool lining.

When Brooklyn was dressed and had her face made-up, she descended the stairs and went to breakfast. She ate quickly, not adding a word to the conversation. Mary Ann and Antoinette were gabbing about how their neighbor, Mrs. Donahugh was still wearing straight-back corsets made of thick material. "All to make her look younger, the sham," her mother commented. Brooklyn closed her eyes to hide how she rolled them at this comment.

"I'm off to Uncle's, I'll make sure to send him your love," she said, excusing herself from the table. Mary Ann attempted to stop her from going, claiming it would be much too risky for travel. But Brooklyn stayed stubborn and insisted that she went. In the end, she won, much to the dismay of her mother.

So off she went. She slipped on her mink coat and leather gloves and then went out to Rupert. "Is it okay to travel to Uncle Joseph's today, Rupert?" she asked him, stroking the neck of one of the white horses, Prince, which pulled the carriage. "Will Prince and Keizer be alright in this weather?" The snow had lightened up, but there was still a significant amount on the ground.

"They'll be fine, miss," Rupert replied with a smile, patting the other white horse, Keizer. "And so will I. It will not be a favorable trip, but we'll make it through perfectly." Brooklyn smiled at the news and gave Prince a light peck on the shoulder. She gave words of thanks to Rupert as he opened the carriage door for her and she entered the sheltered warmth and the comfortable leather seats.

"We are going to Manhattan, correct?" he pulled down the guard glass to ask her. She nodded and helped him put it back up. She then settled into a seat by the window and let her green eyes gaze at those who were walking. As she saw the newsies, barely covered for the winter, her thoughts went to Spot. She didn't want them to be there, but how could she get them out?

"Rupert, could you stop for a second?" she asked Rupert in front of a garment shop. He nodded and she pushed up the glass guard. The carriage stopped and the door opened for her. Rupert helped her out and she walked into the store.

She bought a blue fleece long-sleeved shirt, a black scarf and some thick leather gloves. She didn't know what size shirt he was, so she just bought a large, figuring it would be warmer. The cashier eyed her, but she flashed her ring and said that it was for "a special someone". The man then smiled and let her on without question. She had them wrapped and then brought them back to the carriage. Though Rupert eyed the parcels, he did not question them. She put them under the seat and then as she felt the carriage move forward, sat down.

They hit the bridge and Brooklyn looked out eagerly. She loved the bridge. Riding over it made her feel on top of the world. Few people were on it today, for the winds would be fierce at this level for anyone who was uncovered. She felt horrible for putting Rupert, Keizer and Prince through this mess.

Something caught her eye. A blue shirt and red suspenders. As they passed the wearer of the clothes, she recognized it immediately as Spot. Quickly she went to the guard. Pulling it down she spoke quickly to Rupert. "Sorry for asking this again, but could you stop here? I see a friend who could use some help." Rupert nodded a little reluctantly. She didn't want to think of Spot, no, but she didn't want her friend to freeze, either.

She waited for Spot to be about five feet behind them to swing the door open and step out. "Spot," she called over the whirling winds of snow. He looked over to her and smiled. She motioned him over to the carriage and he quickly came. "Do you need a ride? Rupert and I would be glad to give you a ride."

"Yeah, I could tanks," he said. Then very gentlemanly he helped her into the carriage before sliding in himself. "Tanks a lot fer dis, it's a big help."

"It's no problem, Spot," Brooklyn replied. "Anything for a friend." She smiled as he smiled at her. "So where are you headed to?"

"Just 'round Manhattan," he replied. "I need ta finda friend of mine. Jack Kelly, eva hoid of him?"

"Ever hoid of him?" Brooke echoed with a slight enthusiasm in her tone. "He led the strike against my uncle. Of course I've heard of him! Then again, from my uncle I only heard bad things, but I think what he did for all you newsies was really wonderful. My uncle deserved what he got." Spot nodded and smirked with pride. "Do you think you could introduce me to him while we're in Manhattan?"

"Shoah," Spot replied. It took her a few moments before Brooklyn realized he had said "sure". His accent was especially thick on some words that it made it difficult to understand.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile. There was a few seconds silence as she stared out the window of the carriage. Presently they were traveling over the peak of the bridge, her favorite part.

"I love this bridge," she sighed, slightly breathless. It makes you feel like you're on top of the world."

"Yer just ridin in dis fancy carriage," Spot replied. He too was looking out the window. "Have chyou eva walked it?" Brooklyn shook her head. Her mother would never have allowed her to. "You have ta sometime, it makes ya feel like yer da King of da woild."

"You're already the King of Brooklyn," she joked. "You want the world too?" He nodded. "You think you could handle Brooklyn and the rest of the world?"

"Spot Conlon can handle anythen' the woild trows at 'em." Brooklyn chuckled at his prideful ego.

"Could you show me one day?" she asked him. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "Could you walk the bridge with me and show me what it's like to feel like you rule the world at the peak?"

"Woon't yer fiancéi not allow it?" he asked.

"He's my fiancé, not my commander," she replied. "Besides, what he won't know won't hurt him. And if he finds out, he'll just have to accept that you and I are friends." Spot gave a tom cat smile and agreed with a nod.

They hit a small bump on the way down and off the bridge. Besides bouncing in her seat, Brooklyn's parcels flew out from under the seats and onto the floor. She kneeled off of the seat and picked up two of the parcels and put them to her side. Spot handed her the third.

"Christmus prezsents?" Spot asked her. She nodded and her cheeks flushed in slight embarrassment. Noticing this, Spot questioned the behavior with a "What's da matta?"

"They're for you," she murmured, holding the parcels out for him. She didn't look at him, she tried to figure out the right words to say. "Well, they were supposed to be for Christmas, but since it's so cold out, why don't you take it now? Besides, it's in a week after all. So just call them early Christmas presents."

"I don't need anyone lookin' out fer me," he said defensively. Brooklyn's face fell and she muttered:

"Oh. Well they're nothing spectacular. If you don't want them, I can take them back," she offered. She was crestfallen, that was obvious. She didn't want it to look like charity, she just wanted to show that him that she did care about him. Now it wasn't love, but she wanted to show him that she didn't want him to get sick or freeze.

Now Spot was hard headed with the biggest Irish ego in New York. And he had broken so many hearts he couldn't count. And he didn't feel any pinch of remorse for them. But for some reason, he couldn't stand the way Brooklyn's face had fallen when he nastily rejected her Christmas presents.

"'ey, 'ey," he said quickly. "Lissun I'm…I just ain't used to takin prezsents from no one, okay?" He took the parcels out of her lap and then began to open them. He took the largest one first, which held the fleece shirt. As soon as he saw, his eyes widened slightly. He held it up to see the size. It was a bit big, but it was a good thought seeing as he would grow into the piece of clothing. He tossed it to the side, not showing how he was glad to have it. He then went for the smallest parcel.

He was surprised to find the thick leather gloves waiting for him within the wrapping. It showed on his face, his eyebrows had raised and his eyes had widened. He slipped one on his left hand. He seemed to be in some sort of trance as if he had forgotten Brooklyn was there. He flexed his hand in it before slipping it off. His face went expressionless once again.

He moved onto the last parcel, which held the scarf. Carefully he ripped off the paper and clutched the scarf when he brought it out. His blue eyes traced it carefully, as if looking for any flaw that would allow him to refuse the gifts.

"If you want me to bring them back, I will," Brooklyn offered. Spot looked up as if surprised of his surroundings. He seemed to become protective of his gifts as he shook his head.

"Nah, chyou don't halfta do dat," he replied. She smiled contently that he liked his gifts.

Spot's hands went to the collar of his shirt and he began to unbutton the shabby old thing. "Spot!" Brooklyn exclaimed in shock, looking away instantly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh…changin?" Spot replied as if he was talking to a young child, as if she had no common sense.

"Well that's obvious!" Brooklyn replied, staring out the window and covering her left eye with her left hand. "Could you warn me next time?"

"Is dere goin' ta be a next time?" Spot teased. Though she couldn't see him, she could tell he was smirking from the amount of ego that simply dripped from his words.

"No, Spot. Now hurry up and change," Brooklyn replied. She was smiling at his silly sense of humor. She just really hoped that Rupert didn't decide to look back into the carriage at this moment. Boy would he simply have a fit. And not only that, he would probably tell Mary Ann also. And boy would her mother raise hell because of it.

"Where do you want to be dropped off?" she asked him. "Unless of course, you wouldn't mind waiting in the carriage while I have tea with my uncle." She was talking to Spot, but looking at the window as he was still changing his shirt.

"I'm all drussed up," Spot said firstly. Brooklyn sighed contently and turned around. Though she knew it was improper to look, she couldn't turn her eyes away from sneaking a glance at his chest as he buttoned up the last three buttons to his new shirt. A muscled upper body was hidden beneath the new class.

"I'm dat good lookin', 'eh?" Spot said, causing Brooklyn to focus on his face. He was smirking with…was that satisfaction? She didn't want to seem like a little school girl with her first infatuation, so she quickly shook her head.

"I was not looking at you, Spot," she said quickly. She leaned forward and plucked an imaginary piece of lint off of his shirt and flicked 'it' off into the air. When she turned her head back to him, she was surprised to see that he had leaned in towards her. Their noses were millimeters from each other. He met her eyes, locking them with his.

"I ain't dat stupid, Brookie," he said with a tomcat smile playing the corners of his mouth. Brooklyn could feel her heart pounding against her chest. His voice dropped down to a whisper to make sure that he could make her listen to what he was going to say. "But don't chyou worry 'bout nuthin. I ain't gonna go tellin' nobody."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied primly, withdrawing herself back into a proper sitting position. He did the same thing, except he slouched into a comfortable position. His face still held the tomcat grin.

"Shoah, shoah," he replied as easily as if the words were silk. He seemed to snuggle his back into his new shirt, and though he couldn't put them on in the carriage, he had the scarf and gloves draped on his lap.

"Now where do you want to be dropped off?" she wanted to get off the rather uncomfortable topic and back onto solid ground.

"Dis restaurant," Spot said. He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the name. "I don't 'member whats its called but I'll point it out if I sees it." Brooklyn nodded and moved to the front to tell Rupert. Spot described the restaurant, and it turned out that the driver knew where it was. He made a rather sharp turn and started right for it.

"How long will you be here?" Brooklyn asked as she opened the door for Spot. He hopped out and landed squarely on the ground. He turned to her and held out his hand. She slipped out of the carriage and took a step back from him, letting go of his hand. Though he had his back to the large restaurant window, she could see right passed him and clearly into it. They had gotten a few of newsies' attention, as they were staring out the window.

"I dunno," Spot said with a shrug of his shoulders. "'ow long will chyou be wit yer uncle?"

"Half an hour at the least," Brooklyn replied. "But I'll try not to stay too long, I'll make an excuse to leave early. I really want to meet Jack." Spot nodded his head and clutched his cane with his gloved hand.

"I'll keep Jacky-boy an' da rest of dem here as long as possibul," he replied. She nodded and thanked him.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," she said before disappearing back into her carriage. As she looked back when she looked through the window, she saw a tall dirty-blonde haired boy walked out and seemed to confront Spot. Though he was at least a head taller than him, Spot didn't flinch. He stared back at him and folded his arms in a protective manner.

The taller boy spit on his hand and held it out to Spot. Though he returned the favor, both of their movements were stiff, and seemed to hold something behind them. The taller boy seemed to say something in angry manner, but Brooklyn didn't get a chance to read them as the carriage jolted forward.

"I'm here to see Mr. Pulitzer," Brooklyn said as she walked into the office. Her hat was slightly tipped over her eyes, making her face not very visible. A pinched looking woman at the front desk squinted through sharp glasses. In a tight, high pitched voice, she spoke to Brooklyn.

"No one sees Mr. Pulitzer without an appointment," she said. Brooklyn chuckled and tipped up her hat.

"Excuse me, I do," she said in a terse tone. She never liked the secretary and she didn't strive to be nice to her. Without allowing her a word, she brushed passed the desk and to the stairs. Trotting up to the top, she was badly out of breath. She removed her hat and let her hair down from her bun. She never knew why, but her uncle didn't like to see her hair tied back in such a fashion.

She knocked on the door with a gloved hand. She heard someone coming towards the door so she removed her glove and plastered on her sweetest smile. "Uncle Joseph!" she said warmly as she embraced her dear Uncle.

"Brooklyn! Welcome, welcome," he led her into his office and to a chair in front of his desk. She perched daintily on top of it, she knew she had to be on her best behavior around her uncle. He called for tea, and then walked over to his desk and sat down. "So what brings you here today?"

"Oh, I just wanted to apologize for leaving your party early the other night," she said. "My headache vexed me though, so I figured it would be best if I went home."
"It is quite alright my dear," Joseph replied. "But tell me about your current state." He smiled broadly. "I've heard you're engaged, my dear, how exciting!"

"Yes, I fare it is excellent news. Oh, thank you." she smiled as she accepted the china tea cup from her uncle's assistant.

"A smart match," Joseph added, toasting his tea. Brooklyn tapped her glass against his and nodded. All forced actions, but she performed them with a flawless effort.

"A very smart match," she replied. Quietly she added, "I suppose."

"You suppose?" Joseph replied in slight astonishment at his niece's reply. "It's a splendid match, my dear, no questions."

"All women have their questions, Uncle," Brooklyn replied gently. Her uncle chuckled and diverged her into a conversation about wedding details.

They chatted lightly for not even a half an hour before they were interrupted by one of Joseph's business associates. Though Joseph tried to postpone his meeting, Brooklyn offered to leave early. Her excuse: "I still have some Christmas to do, Uncle. Perhaps I'll stop by later if I can."

And with that perfect excuse, she left her uncle's office. She tossed the secretary a terse "Happy Christmas" and then left the building.

Rupert was giving Keizer and Prince some warm oats when she got out. "That was a rather quick visit, Miss., is everything quite alright?" She nodded and told him to bring her the restaurant they had left Spot at. She hadn't cared to learn the name of the place. He obliged and opened the carriage door for her. She thanked him and entered.

While inside the carriage, she fluffed up her appearance slightly. She made sure that her locks were silky smooth and that her make up was touched to perfection. In the process, she stopped. Why was she attempting to give herself a comely appearance for the newsies?

It's not just for any newsie, a voice in her mind stated as she flipped her hair back. It's for Spot.

Shut your mouth, you have no idea what you are talking about. The more practical part of her admonished.

I am simply a thought, a conscious, I haven't got a mouth. The first voice replied in a manner of somewhat superiority.

Well then simply be quiet.

Make me.

"Enough!" Brooklyn exclaimed out loud.

"Miss?" it was Rupert's voice. Brooklyn looked to the door. It was open and her driver was there to escort her out. They were in front of the restaurant, she could see the newsies conversing within. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, Rupert," she replied. She gave thanks to him when he helped her out and then added that she would not be long.

She entered the small restaurant and in a flurry of hands she saw all the newsies remove their hats. Spot was at her side in seconds. The taller boy that she had seen before was in front of her only a second shy of him.

"Brooklyn, dis is Jacky-boy," Spot introduced. "But mosta us calls 'em Cowboy. Jacky-boy, dis is Brooklyn Pulitzer." The restaurant went silent at her last name. But all she could do was smile.

"Jack Kelly!" she said with enthusiasm as she held out her hand. He shook hers a bit cautiously, not sure what to make of her. "Finally I meet the newsie that gave my uncle just what he deserved. Congratulations on winning the strike. I was on your side since day one." The mood lightened as soon as Jack smiled at her.

She was instantly introduced to the Manhattan newsies. And boy there were a lot of them. There was David, Les, Racetrack, Mush, Skittery, Kid Blink, Boots, Snitch, Specks, Crutchy, Snipeshooter and oh gosh so many more. Too many to learn in five minutes. When they wanted to get the gang together, they got the whole gang together.

"An' den, an' den," the Italian, Racetrack said as he took a swig of Cola. Brooklyn was surrounded by the boys, and they were telling her stories of the strike. While they were all lounging on their chairs, swigging their drinks, Brooklyn sat perched in hers, sipping water. Spot sat next to her protectively. Anyone who looked at her funny got the Conlon glare. And if looks could kill, they would have been an incinerated mess on the floor.

"Sos Spot goes, 'yer honor, I object,'" Racetrack continued. "An' dis judge, a real uptight richie, ya know da type, right?"

Before he could continue, she spoke up. "Race, I live with that type." The guys chuckled.

"Sos anyways," Race continued. "The judge goes 'on what grounds?'. An' dis guy ova 'ere," he gave Spot a playful shove on the shoulder. "He goes 'on da grounds of Brooklyn, yer honor'!" Brooklyn laughed along with the rest of the newsies, looking over at Spot, who was practically glowing with ego.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "But den dis guy," he pointed a thumb at Racetrack. "Offas to roll da guy double or nothen' for our fine of five bucks." She chuckled and took another sip of water.

They were all laughing about stories from either the strike or their normal routines. Brooklyn was really loosing up, slightly slouching and no longer sipping her drink. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. It was Jack, looking at her. She Spot turn to him to and glare out of the corner of her eye.

"Can I tawk ta ya?" he asked her. "In a littul miore privacy?" she nodded and got up, walking after him as Jack led her away from the group. She glanced over and noticed Spot watching his every move.

"Yeah, yeah. Yer new friend is watchin' us real close," said Jack, ignoring the King of Brooklyn all together. "An' he'z just the guy I wanna tawk at ya bout."

"Okay," she replied slowly. A million things ran through her mind that Jack could possibly want to talk to her about.

"Look, I don't wanna see a nice goil like chyou getten' hoit by someone like Spot," Jack said. Brooklyn cocked her head to side, and was about to say something when Jack put up his hand to silence her. "Look, chyou don't know Spot like I does. He could have any of da goils in Noo Yoik if he wanted ta. He'z real good at breakin' harts, so be careful." Brooklyn nodded. For some reason, she wasn't surprised at the news about her friend.

"Oh an' Brooklyn?" Jack said. "I just wanna let chyou know what ta watch out for. Spot doesn't care bout da goils he hoits, so ya gotta make shoah ya don't get too close wit him. Coz he'z good at playin mind games and he'll get chyou all comfy wit him before he hits ya hard an' fast." She nodded, now rather tentative about going back to Spot.

"Dat's my only warnin," Jack said. "An' we won't tawk bout it again, got it? 'Less it's real important." Brooklyn nodded and Jack put a hand on her back and pushed her back towards the boys.

Spot was waiting expectantly when she got back. He moved his chair closer to her, warning Jack away with a glare. But Brooklyn pretended not to notice. She smiled and laughed with the newsies, but Jack's words kept repeating in the back of her mind.

Jack's warning was one warning she would heed.

Author's Note: I am on a roll with this fic! It's all I can think about, and I find myself writing it during class when the teacher stops talking (heehee). Chapter five should be out soon, if I keep writing at this pace.