An hour later, Midnight was still seething. She had been walking around Manhattan, trying her best to get rid of her temper. "That sonuvabitch. I can't believe him," she mumbled to herself. "I'll show him. I'll finish this case with or without his consent. I got a good enough look at the report. Then who'll be fucked?"

Then, suddenly, someone ran into her, knocking her down and sending newspapers flying. When she looked up, she saw a young oriental boy kneeling over her, reaching down to help her. She took his hand and pulled herself up, while pulling him down in the same motion. "Watch where you're going," she sneered, spitting at him.

This little run-in didn't improve her mood much. She hated newsboys. They were so rude and intent on selling their newspapers, but when there was a chance for them to play the hero, they always rode in gallantly. The past summer the newsboys had had their infamous strike. At the time, Midnight had been working on a big case, but was completely thrown off the trail by all the hype about their strike. It had pissed Midnight off; she wasn't used to being thrown off and it took her a while to find the guy again.

'They are filthy little rats who don't have any money,' she thought to herself. 'Only someone who had no where else to go would become a…' Her thought trailed off then, for she realized that that would be where the serial killer would hit next. It fit perfectly. More and more girls were becoming newsies now that there's been a media build up around it. It was a low-end job that the killer could slide into easily. It was perfect!

Quickly, Midnight pulled a 180 and ran back towards the Asian boy. "Hey!" she yelled after him. "Wait up!"

The boy turned around slowly. "What do you want?"

She slowed down in front of him, panting slightly from her run over to him. "I'm sorry about what happened back there," she began, giving her best impression of a good girl, reaching back into her childhood to discover what she had once been. "I've been a little stressed out lately, and I wasn't thinking."

He snorted. "A little?"

"Okay, so more than a little. But," she whined, "life has been so rough. My parents are forcing me to go to etiquette school to become a 'proper lady.' Do YOU think I could pass for a proper lady?" she questioned, gesturing towards her clothing. She was dressed not unlike the boy, as she found it more comfortable than a dress.

The Asian chuckled. "So run away. I've got a bunch of friends who did."

Midnight's eyes and jaw dropped, trying to be as naïve as possible. "Seriously? I don't think I could do that. I mean, where would I go?"

"You could always become a newsie. The pays not so good, but it's an all right life. Live with your friends, have zero responsibility, be your own parent. It's definitely got its perks."

"Just like that? I can be a newsie?"

He smiled sideways at her. "Say the word and I'll get you started."

Midnight considered her possibilities. Did she really want to go live with these ingrates? But, she did want to prove once and for all what she was made of to Andrew. She sighed and stepped that line into the future. "Please do," she decided.

"Great," he exclaimed. "I'm Swifty. Do you have a name?"

"Uh, yeah. My friends call me Midnight," she answered, foolishly forgetting an alias.

"Midnight, huh? And why's that?"

She shrugged. "I guess I don't really know. Maybe its because I can never get to sleep at night," she lied. Midnight knew exactly why they called her what they did…