"Are you gettin' sick a' bein' around me?" Mush asked as he skimmed the paper for a good headline. He and Spark were selling together in Manhattan's Central Park under their favorite tree. She had a show that night.

After Christmas, news was slow. It would pick up after the New Year, they were moving into a new century, after all.

Spark furrowed her brow, focusing on the street. "Of course not. Why would you say that?"

"You've been preoccupied lately."

"...huh?"

"See!" he said. "What's goin' on with you?"

"Shhh!" Spark grabbed Mush's papers out of his hand and stuffed them into her newspaper bag. She stood on the park bench to grab a low tree branch and pulled herself up into the tree.

Mush raised an eyebrow but followed her. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

Spark repositioned herself on the branch, trying not to cause snow or icicles to fall to the ground from the branches. "You see that guy there?"

"Where?" She grabbed his face, turning it toward the street. "Oh, yeah. What about him?" He was tall, he looked to be 17 or 18 years old, and from the look of his clothes he appeared to have money.

"I saw him when we got to your lodging house this morning."

"So-"

"And then, when we were leaving the circulation gates, he bought a paper from David."

"Well that could be-"

"And this is his third time walking this street." she put a hand up or stop Mush from speaking. "Tell me that's a coincidence."

Mush narrowed his eyes, now watching the man walk to the corner and then enter the park. "Shhh, he's coming this way!"

The boy avoided the cleared path, instead, he walked the snow-covered grass. Spark and Mush glanced at each other, that was very strange. He went right to their tree, circling it like he was looking for something. He stood still for a moment. Mush and Spark kept perfectly still, barely even breathing. Then, he casually walked away. When they knew the coast was clear, Spark and Mush jumped down to resume business.

"How did you catch that?" said an astonished Mush.

Spark gave a small smile. "I'm a bird. It's my job."

Knock, knock.

Helena was too enthralled in her reading to notice the knocking at her door.

Knock, knock, knock!

Her uncle had brought over the letters this afternoon. Denton's editor gave him the letters, hoping he would find out who the mystery writer was. The article was a hit. The public loved to hear about their favorite newsboys.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Startled, Helena jumped up from her bed and unlocked the door. It was Ms. Trenton, she was stern and distainfully proud. She rarely smiled, which Helena thought was a shame. Her constant scowl took away from her looks.

"No locked doors during daylight hours." Ms. Trenton gave a little smirk, like Helena's mistake gave her a dark satisfaction.

"I'm sorry Ms. Trenton, it won't happen again." Helena smiled politely.

The headmistress looked past Helena to the bed, where several letters and their envelopes were strewn about.

"When are those?"

"They're just letters." Helena tried to keep her nerves in check.

"Whom are they from?"

"My-my brother..." Who didn't exist. Helena frantically searched her brain for a name, anyone. "Henry."

Ms. Trenton narrowed her eyes. "All of them?"

"Well some of them are from my friends back in Philadelphia- a- and my parents."

"Then you won't mind me reading them." Ms. Trenton simpered briefly before pushing past the younger girl.

"Ms. Trenton!" Helena was starting to panic. "'The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized!'"

The older woman turned, looking daggers. "When I was a young girl, we knew how to treat our betters."

Helena bit back a comment about how her parents were the ones paying for her schooling here, making her the "better".

"It's only the honest truth. I have rights." she said innocently.

"Rights," Ms. Trenton sneered, "Rights are not for ladies." And she stormed out, nearly slamming the door (because that wouldn't be ladylike).

"You said that?" David laughed as Helena recounted her story later. "How did she react?"

"She said, and I quote: 'Rights are not for ladies.'"

"That's ridiculous!" exclaimed Chase.

"I know," Helena agreed. "I couldn't believe it."

"That woman is horrible."

Helena gasped melodramatically. "Imagine what would happen if she found out I've been writing for 'The Sun'." she and Chase shuddered.

"Maybe you should just leave that school, like Chase, and be a newsie like us." Racetrack said, eavesdropping from the poker table.

Helena laughed a pretty laugh, Skittery couldn't help but smile. "I would do that in a heartbeat," She started. "But I think that would kill my mother. She's alright with me being friends with 'yous' but she doesn't want me to be like you. She wants me to marry a rich man and keep our legacy going."

Chase heard the church bells chime in the distance. She glanced at Story and then Spark, motioning them toward the door.

"Chase, where are you going?" Said Spot, just as she had her hand on the doorknob. He was seated at the poker table, his back turned to her.

She silently cursed herself. "I have rehearsal." She crossed her arms.

He turned to look at her. "You know you can't go alone."

"I'm not going to be alone, Spark and Story are coming."

"I said girls have to be accompanied by a boy, that's how it's gonna be from now on." He stood up. "I'll come with you-"

"No," She spat. "I don't want you to."

Spot's gaze faltered for a second and he looked stung. "Well, you gotta go with someone."

"Nicholas," she commanded her brother royally.

Mush looked to his sister and then to Spark, who was sending him pleading looks.

"Now! "

He got up from his seat at the poker table and opened the door for the girls. Chase took the handle from him and slammed it behind her.

"Rosie, and why do you gotta pull me into all this?" Mush asked as he took Spark's arm.

"I am tired of being treated like a little girl. I can take care of myself."

"Ok, when have you ever had to take care of yourself?"

"You're right, I haven't just had to take care of myself. I have been taking care of all the newsgirls in Brooklyn, plus the little ones- not that I've ever complained–"

"That's not exactly what I meant."

She looked at him, shooting daggers, but her green eyes filled with tears. She ran ahead so the others wouldn't see, the but she still stayed in his sight.

"Mush," Spark spoke up. "I think it would be best if you let her cool off a minute."

"What's goin' on with her?" His brow was furrowed with concern.

"I think it's pride. " Story said, taking Mush's other arm. "She really has been taking care of herself these past three years. I mean, Spot had a close eye on her but she pretty much did everything for herself."

"And us. " Spark added. "When Chase moved into our lodging house, she kinda became the leader. And she's been makin' sure we were ok with money and everything since."

"She's a strong girl. But like I said, it's pride. She hated feeling vulnerable, having to use the crutch. Now that she's free again she doesn't wanna give it up."

"Then why is she cryin'? " Mush thought he knew about girls (although most of his friends would probably disagree) but this particular group of girls was so confusing to him, especially Roselia.

"She's scared," Story said, as if it was so obvious. "You know what made her leave that boarding school and become a newsie."

It was painful for Mush to think about. His sister was attacked by Warden Snyder, who frequently called on Ms. Trenton at the boarding school. It could have been bad but she got away before anything could happen. And then Spot took her in and she started living the "fine life", carrying the banner with the rest of the newsies of New York. She had been through a lot.

"If she's scared, " Mush thought it out. "why is she so upset with me and Spot?"

He still didn't get it. "Haven't you been paying attention?" Spark smacked him on the back of the head. "She's afraid of what could happen."

"That's the price for bein' a newsie. You get a life of freedom but at the same time, it's dangerous. That's not anything new."

"Chase has a pretty big imagination. Sometimes she stays up late at night, not bein' able to sleep because of something she read in the papers or in books."

"Even stuff she made up in her own head." Story added.

"She wants to take care of herself and be in control. At the same time, and she knows she probably wouldn't be able to fight whatever's out there. It's upsetting to her."

A/N: I love writing strong female characters that are still a little emotional. Actually, I like all of my characters to have an emotional side. As I was rereading "Five Thousand Reasons..." I thought I should have titled it "Five Thousand Reasons To Cry" because all of my characters, even Spot, cried at some point in the story.

December 28, 1899

"So people really liked your article? " Skittery asked, trying to make conversation with Helena.

"Yes," Her blue eyes lit up. "I've gotten so many letters from readers these past few days. They loved it!"

"Yeah, I read it. You wrote it good." He smiled.

"Mr. Glum and Dumb is actually complimenting someone other than himself?" Racetrack teased. "He must be in love!"

Everyone laughed, joining in with Racetrack's teasing.

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for ya, Race!" Skittery tried to hide his blush, as turned back to Helena.

It took time but Chase got used to being escorted by the boys all the time. She did, however, try to make life difficult for Spot every chance she could. She had to entertain herself somehow.

Ring ring, ring ring.

After the strike, Governor Roosevelt required the lodging houses in all of New York have telephones. I occasionally he (or Denton, his liaison to the newsies) would call and check up on them to make sure they were being treated right. The telephones also served as easier communication between boroughs and lodging houses.

Ring ring, ring ring.

The boys absolutely hated it.

Ring ring, ring ring.

"Will someone answer it already?" Racetrack asked irritably. When he was into a poker game, anything that threw him off made him angry.

"Spot," Kloppman called from the other room. "Telephone is for you."

Spot pounded his fist on the table, he was really getting into the game too, and he reluctantly left his place at the poker table. "Hold on a minute, fellas." He slipped his cards in his pocket.

"What is it?" He asked into the phone, annoyance in every word.

"Is that really how you're going to speak to your queen?" Chase said on the other end of the line.

Spot rolled his eyes (she wouldn't be able to see him do that now). "Will you make this quick? I'm in the middle of a game."

"Oh, so you're little game of cards is more important than my safety?" Spot could hear Story and Spark giggling in the background. "I need you to come pick us up right now."

Spot grit his teeth. "I was just in Brooklyn less than an hour ago. Why didn't yous just come with me then?"

"Because we weren't ready."

Spot didn't say anything.

"You know, you're the one that made up this stupid rule." Chase said. "We would have been there by now and your game wouldn't be interrupted." Spot could practically hear her sarcastic smile. "I think we'll be fine if you let us walk by ourselves this once."

"No way. Yous stay right where you are, ya hear? Somebody will be over to pick yous guys up."

"But-"

"That's how it's gonna be!"

Chase went silent for a second. "Fine." She hissed.

Spot slammed the phone down and returned to his place at the poker table.

"Who was that?" Racetrack asked. "The girls?"

"Yeah," Spot turned his attention to his cards.

"What did they want?"

"They want someone to walk them over here."

"But you were just there." said Kid Blink.

"I know," Spot said. "I think they're just doing this to make our lives miserable."

"Women." Racetrack shook his head.

"So, you gonna go?" Mush asked as he threw a few pennies into the center of the table.

"In a minute, I just sat down!"

"Yeah, but you know they're just gonna call again and again until you do." This had happened more than once.

Spot groaned. "You're right..." He looked around the room to see who he could make go to Brooklyn with the least resistance. "Mush...?"

"Oh no," Mush protested. "Roselia dragged me all over town this week."

It was true. To show Spot how seriously angry she really was, Chase avoided him at all costs. It was driving him out of his mind. And Mush had to hear all the complaining.

"I'll go," Racetrack said, looking over his cards.

Spot raised an eyebrow skeptically. "What's the catch?" With Racetrack Higgins there was always a catch.

"Let me take Rosie out on a date." Race answered coolly.

"Absolutely not. She's my girl."

"But she's Mush's flesh and blood. What do you say Mush?"

"I say it's her decision whether she goes out with you or not. But I'm just gonna guess the answer's no."

"I'll play yous to be her date." Racetrack deftly shuffled the cards.

"She ain't a prize neither." Spot's glare intensified.

"And besides, Race," Mush said. "You woulda lost anyway. Royal flush." He slammed his cards on the table.

Racetrack gaped at Mush's cards. He never won poker.

"How did you...?"

"It don't matter. What matters is that somebody walks the girls over here. Now." said Mush.

"So send Jack over," Blink said. "Chase won't have a problem with him comin'."

"Nah," Spot said as he thought. Jack was asleep with his hat over his eyes, leaning against the wall with a book Sarah gave him in his lap. And Jack hated being woken up, probably as much as Spot did. Spot glanced over at the couch. "Hey Skittery."

Skittery sighed irritably, he was in a conversation with Helena. "What is it?"

"Go to Brooklyn and pick up the girls." Spot demanded.

"It ain't my problem, they're not my girls." Even though he desperately wanted Story to be his.

"I'm tellin' you it is your problem."

"I don't want to." Skittery crossed his arms like a defiant toddler.

"I didn't ask if you wanted to." Spot did the same.

"Come on, Skittery. We've been with the girls all week." Mush whined.

Skittery trudged down the dark streets, fuming. If he didn't want to see Story so bad he wouldn't have done it. Skittery wasn't the leader type but he didn't like the current leaders. Especially Spot, and who thought he was the king over everyone and everything. Not just Brooklyn.

"Oh, hey Skittery." Story smiled as she opened the door of the girls lodging house, letting Skittery into the warmth. "You look freezing!" He hadn't had a chance to grab a jacket back in Manhattan.

"Nah, it's not that bad." He tried to play it off like it was nothing.

"Come on in and sit by the fire."

The girls' lodging house was a lot nicer than the boys'. Perhaps it was because the boys were rougher and messier. But to Skittery, the girls' lodging house was like a 5 star hotel. He had never been inside until now.

"So," Skittery said finally. The snow in his hair melted and now he was wet. "Are we goin' or what?"

Story sat herself on the couch. "We're goin'... Eventually. The other two are gettin' ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Their boys."

Skittery could tell this was going to be a long night. He could hear Chase and Spark's annoying, girly laughter from downstairs. They were so obnoxious. He had no idea how Story put up with them.

After a while, Skittery started to doze off. Until he heard the screaming.

"What? What is it?" He called up the steps.

"A spider!" Chase cried.

"A spider?"

"In our closet!" Spark added.

"Come kill it!"

Skittery kicked the banister. They started him awake. For a little spider.

"I hate spiders." Story shivered.

Skittery shook his head. Now he had to go upstairs and kill it.

He was met with more screams when he entered the girls' room by a few of the younger newsgirls who didn't know him.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know!" Spark hid behind a sink as if it would protect her from the terrifying spider.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It escaped!" Chase said as she comforted the younger girls.

"You know you'd think, bein' from Brooklyn and all, yous would be more brave." Skittery smirked.

"We're the toughest, no one ever said anything about bravest."

"Says The Princess."

Chase's glare was nearly identical to Spot's, it was actually frightening. But Skittery wasn't scared. "Just kill the spider, you bum!" Especially when she would say something like that. Chase grew up in the high society. Slang just didn't sound right coming out of her mouth.

It took Skittery 20 minutes to search through the girls' closet (amongst their unmentionables) and find the spider (which was no larger than a penny).

"Thanks."Chase hugged him with one arm, an actual gesture of gratitude. Skittery was surprised.

When he went back downstairs, Story was asleep on the couch. He could wake her up. She probably missed David. But why would he want to help her in that way? He loved her too. Besides, she looked so peaceful. He sat back down on the couch and watched her as she slept. Her breaths were slow and even. Skittery touched the scar on her cheek, his fingertips barely brushing her skin. It was her only imperfection. She was beautiful. Her red curls framed her face perfectly. She reminded him of Sleeping Beauty, awaiting true love's kiss to break the spell.