A/N Thank you all for the wondrous reviews! And thanks to all my shadow readers also-those of you that read but do not review...This chapter, well, I hope you all like it. It's more of a background/filler chapter. Next chapter we see some action. It's the one you have been waiting for.

Me- I know, darling, I was only teasing. Thank you for the reviews! (And, regarding my other story, as I said, I really have no idea where it came from, and I don't think there will be any more like it)

In due time they got the gang leader's shoulder washed and bandaged, and with a stern injunction for him not to move from his berth on the floor, Spot left him with Jeans and stepped outside, ostensibly to "make some arrangements" as he had told Jeans, but he also planned to think.

He began by thinking about Jeans. When she first showed up, he had not trusted her at all, and had been on his guard, every second just waiting for her to do something - anything - that would get her kicked out.

Her first day selling he had been surprised and not entirely pleased to get only positive reports back from all his sources, but he was most definitely not going to let her get anywhere close to him.

So he had taken her somewhere he had never taken anyone else before (he would have been happy to take Dash, but she had never shown any interest) which was seemingly the opposite of what he intentioned. But he had a plan. Or rather, had had a plan, before it backfired and resulted in his liking Jeans better, though he still did not trust her.

After a few normal weeks winter had come and the colds had set in. That was when he was forced to trust Jeans. Her cough remedy, foul as it was, had certainly healed his newsies faster than anything he'd ever tried. (Although he agreed with Jeans that some of their hasty recoveries were to get out of taking the nasty stuff)

It had been fun, he had to admit, making Jeans take some (literally, in this case) of her own medicine. Her grimace had been priceless.

A few weeks later, when Jeans had got the idea to take in street orphans, he'd been skeptical; but he helped her with her scheme, and it had worked. He again had to admit he had enjoyed seeing her in a dress and getting a rare glimpse of her with her hair down. Not to mention getting as much money in a day as most newsies made in a year.

The dance...ah, the dance. The expression on the normally cock-sure Jack Kelly's face had been hilarious. And Jeans' frank trust of him - Spot - had been immensely refreshing.

It had been then, also, that he had found out what he had already suspected, that Jeans was a Christian.

He had, as a boy, been a sort of Catholic, as most Irish were, but when he had left home and was on the streets, he'd ditched it.

It was only five weeks after he and Colleen were on the streets that he had been trying to swipe a pastry and a man had caught him.

Flashback

His hand descended on Spot's shoulder and he looked up, his heart sinking, but he straightened proudly.

"I think you want to put that back, don't you, lad?" The voice had a kind tone, but the hand was very firm.

"Except for the fact that me sistah is stahvin', I'd love to." Spot replied desperately.

The man frowned. "Come on, lad, I'll take you somewhere where you can get some food."

Promising himself that he would twist away as soon as he had it, Spot obeyed.

The man took him to an old warehouse. There was a long line of people waiting to get food from ladies in aprons behind the table. They joined the line, and Spot was handed a bowl of food and a hunk of bread.

Then the man took him over to a table and sat him down. "Eat up, and listen, too. You might learn something."

Spot squirmed, wanting to get away and take the bread to Colleen, but he could see that wasn't going to happen until the thin faced man that was clearing his throat said his bit and shut up and left.

"Friends, tonight I want to tell you about Someone. He is the best friend you will ever know. How many of you have heard of God?"

Most of the people raised their hands. "How many of you love Him?"

Hardly any did. "Well, I want to tell you tonight that God loves you. He is greater than we can imagine, but instead of destroying us like we deserve, He sent his Son to come to earth a man - a humble carpenter's son - to die an incredibly painful death to ransom you from your sins, so you could be spared the wrath of God."

Ransom was something Spot understood. He'd had to ransom a couple of his boys before from rival gangs. He'd even been ransomed once himself. But ransom from sins? Spot knew he sinned - they talked about that a lot at mass and stuff, but he'd never thought that God would do something to pay for it before.

Why would He care about Spot? An orphan (basically) trying to survive? The thought was incredible.

"Jesus died for you," the man went on, "because there is no way we can be spared the wrath of God on our own. Friends, salvation is a free gift. All we need to do is accept the gift. Put your trust in Jesus tonight, trust that he can save you from your sins. And he will. God keep you, brothers."

As the man left the 'platform' and sat down, Spot stared at his empty soup bowl. He grabbed the bread and got up, and the man that had brought him made no move to stop him.

As he wandered back to Dash, he thought about what the man had said, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed true and real.

It was that night, dodging bulls and drunks on the streets of New York, that Spot Conlon became a Christian.

End Flashback

Spot shook his head. That had been a long time ago now. There may not have been too much change apparent then, but as he grew older, something in his head had begun nagging at him whenever he made decisions he knew were wrong.

Then Jeans had showed up. Her first couple days, when he'd had someone following her, they'd reported back that a few times she'd stopped and muttered something under her breath, and often seemed to hold conversations with herself, arguments, even.

This would have made Spot merely think she was crazy, except he himself, ever since that Something in his head started reminding him when he sinned, had held arguments with it, trying to justify his actions. (It had never worked.)

So he more than halfway suspected she was a Christian, and then one morning, when he'd gone to a church service at the small Presbyterian church, he'd seen her there. Thereafter, by tacit agreement, they'd slipped out of the lodging house every Sunday to go to church together.

So...before you all kill me, let me know what you think. Specifically...anything. ;)

Vocab:

Ostensibly - apparently or purportedly, but perhaps not actually

Tacit - understood or implied without being stated