Sorry this is so late, I meant to update Thursday I swear. But on Thursday I decided to go to homecoming, which happened to be Saturday. So I had to get my dress and all that jazz. And ya...but I must say, IT WAS SO WORTH IT! I loved the whole night, from laura's house to denny's (lol heather you'll so get that) it was fun.

Right but here's the chapter...

Spot and I had finished selling early (apparently find the mayor's son with a prostitute made a good headline) and decided to enjoy winter. The snow crunched below our shoes, I cringed when the wetness seeped through the thin soles as we walked down the street. "I feel bad for those children with no shoes."

Spot nodded, "Me too, I can barely stand this, dunno how they do it."

We walked in comfortable silence, looking in the shops that lined the street. I paused briefly in front of a bookstore. "Spot, do you think we could go in?"

He looked at the shop, "Why?" I swear if I had been looking at him, he would have been staring at me like I was crazy.

"Never mind, we don't have to. I just… miss reading that's all."

"Miss it? Ya do it everyday. Ya think I don't notice ya sitting there reading the pape instead of selling it?" A blushed crept onto my face and I looked down at my feet. Spot chuckled, "Reading ain't something ta be ashamed of."

"I know." I said gazing longingly into the bookstore's window.

He stared at me for a moment before, "Alright, five minutes."

"Yes!" I pushed the door open and walked into the musty old store. Inhaling deeply I smiled.

"What?" Spot asked.

"Don't you just love the smell of books?"

Again the "she's crazy" look flashed across his face, "I didn't know they had their own smell." I shook my head and began to look around. There were rows and rows of dusty old books; fiction, nonfiction, biographies, mysteries, romances. You name it, the store had it. I stopped very suddenly causing Spot, who had been right on my tail, to crash into me. "God damn it, woman!" But I paid him no attention. In front of me stood the complete works of William Shakespeare.

Memories of my mother reading me his sonnets flooded back to me, "Desire is death." I whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's from a sonnet." I said reaching for the book of sonnets in front of me.

"What's a sonnet?"

My eyes widened and I nearly dropped the book, "You've got to be kidding me." Spot shrugged and a small blush formed, if that's even possible. "Well, I do say. Never did I think I'd see you blush Mr. Conlon."

"Oh shut up." He grumbled.

"What? There's nothing wrong with blushing, I do it all the time."

Spot rolled his eyes, "Can ya just tell me what the hell a sonnet is."

"It's a type of poem." I smiled, "You do know what a poem is right?"

"Yes," He sneered, "I know what a poem is."

"Just checking." I started flipping through the book until I came across the sonnet that I remembered so clearly. I started to read aloud, oblivious to anyone around me.

"MY love is as a fever, longing still

For that which longer nurseth the disease;

Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,

The uncertain sickly appetite to please.

My reason, the physician to my love,

Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,

Hath left me, and I desperate now approve

Desire is death, which physic did except.

Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,

And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;

My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,

At random from the truth vainly express'd;

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,

Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."

Spot looked more confused then I think I'd ever seen him, it was quite adorable. "How's anyone supposed ta understand that? It's all in old English or something."

I giggled, "What did you expect it's William Shakespeare,"

"Ya keep saying that like it should mean something."

For the second time in five minutes I felt my eyes were going to pop out of my head, "You don't know who William Shakespeare is?" Spot didn't answer but his standoffish attitude and refusal to meet my eye answered my question.

"How can you not know who Shakespeare is? Didn't your mother or father ever talk about poetry? Didn't they ever mention it?"

"How the hell should I know?" He burst angrily, "They died when 6, I barely remember what they looked like, let alone what they said."

My heart sank, "Oh. I'm sorry. I…I didn't know."

"'course ya didn't, it's not something I like ta advertise." His clipped tones told me he wanted to leave, so I put the book down (but not without one more longing glance).

"Let's go do something more fun." I suggested. Spot nodded and together we left the store. The cold air hit me with such force that I had the wind knocked out of me. I struggled to regain my breath when something wet and cold, and felt an awful lot like snow, hit my neck. I whipped around to see no one around, except Spot standing there fixing his scarf innocently. And before I knew it I was scoping up a handful of snow and launching it at him.

He yelped and glared at me, "What was that for?"

"For the one you got me with."

"I didn't get you." Just then Spot was hit from behind with another snowball, one I didn't throw. The look on his face would have made anyone double over in laughter. "That wasn't funny." He growled and turned around to look for the source of the snowball. While his back was turned I got another handful of snow and chucked it at his head, it missed by a mile. Spot turned and looked at me incredulously before breaking out into a smirk, "Ya really don't wanna be doing that?"

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because there's no way ya can beat me in a snowball fight."

"Wanna bet?" I challenged.

"Alright yer on." From that moment on we immersed ourselves in a very intense, very strategic snowball fight. It's funny to think of a snowball fight as strategic but it was. Spot had a whole plan and everything. I, on the other hand, was scoping up snow, forming balls, putting them in my pocket, and then throwing them when I got close enough. Part of the problem was that I had no aim so he continually got me but I missed nearly every time. Towards the end I decided to change things up a little. Slowly and silently I crept up behind Spot (who was busy making a plan of attack in the snow with a stick. I personally think he took it a little too far) and shoveled a handful of snow down the back of his shirt.

His shout came out of more of a shriek and I would have rolled on the ground laughing if I hadn't had to run for my life at that moment. Spot, it appears, didn't find it quite as funny as I did and began to chase me. I could have out run him but my cries of laughter were taking to much energy and I could barely see straight. "I've almost got ya, ya little…" Spot shouted as he followed me. I ran as fast and as hard as I could, under the circumstances, toward the lodging house. I'd almost made it when Spot tackled me to the ground.

"Umph." I cried, landing face down in the snow. I rolled over on my back and dissolved into giggles. I could feel Spot's body shaking, with laughter, right next to mine. We both turned and our eyes met, all of a sudden our laughter died and was replaced by silence and a heat neither of us expected. We were so close I could feel his breath on my skin. Staring into those silver orbs, I lost myself. There was nothing but me and him and at the moment I wanted nothing more than to be with him. He felt the same way; I could see it in his eyes. Slowly but surely his face moved closer to mine, when we were but an inch apart I pulled back. "What are you doing?" I asked, my heart speeding.

"Just shut up and let me kiss you." And with that he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was gentle and warm; I could feel its warmth spreading throughout my body. I seemed to be floating and the world was perfect. I was lost in the kiss, just like I had been lost in his eyes. I should have been scared at the power he had over me but I wasn't. He seemed to know his power and thus he began to deepen the kiss. I just let him, even though I was wary of it. But then I felt Spots hands begin to travel upwards and I snapped back and realized I'd let him take his power to far.

"Woooh." I said pushing Spot away.

"What?" He asked slightly breathless.

"Nothing, just the hands were, kinda, well…"

He nodded, "Right, to soon for that"

"Yeah." I said uncomfortably. Spot got off of me and we both sat up.

"Well that was…" He trailed off.

"Unexpected?"

"Yeah."

"But good unexpected or bad unexpected?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it and failing miserably. I wanted it to be a good unexpected thing, one that would happen again and again and again.

Spot bit his lip, "I dunno." My heart felt as though it had been stabbed, it was foolish of me to think he'd feel the same way. This is Spot Conlon we're talking about, he's got more girls after him then there are days in a year.

"Right." I stood up and brushed the snow off. "I'm going for a walk."

"Bethy…don't be mad."

"I'm not."

"Ya always go for a walk when yer mad."

"I'm not mad!" I insisted.

"It's just…yer like me little sister."

"Well to be honest with you, I'd be more than a little disturbed if you kissed your sister like that."

"I was caught in the moment."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." I said and stood to leave but a hand caught my wrist and spun around to face him.

"Bethany, I don't want this to change our friendship."

I badly wanted to roll my eyes but with much effort I refrained from doing so, "Okay." Not that it would be that easy but saying everything would be the same kind of concreted the fact that it would be. Or at least that's what I told myself.

Spot smiled awkwardly, "Let's go back ta the lodging house."

"Nah, I want to take a walk."

"I thought ya said ya weren't mad."

"I'm not!" I shouted, mildly annoyed that he knew me so well, "I just need to think." Spot nodded and left. Instead of walking around I sat back down in the snow to think. So many questions flew through my head at once. Why did he kiss me? Was he really just 'caught in the moment' or was it something more? Did I want it to be more? If I did want it to be more, WHY? Why would I want Spot? Especially after I'd had Rebel, kind, sweet, loving Rebel. Rebel, Spot's complete opposite.

I groaned and lay back in the snow. I used to think Spot was a jerk that was impossible to be around and whom treated me like a child. I also used to think he was ridiculously full of himself. Well that last one was still true but for a while I hadn't found Spot to be so…jerk-like (Was that even a word?). Now he was funny and powerful and still impossible to be around but in a different way. Now he had some sort of control over me, a control I didn't like. He must know the power he has, he's probably had it over many girls, but for some reason I felt like he wouldn't abuse that power. I felt like he knew he could make me do anything but he didn't want to make me do anything I wasn't ready for.

I lay in the snow for Lord knows how long before getting up and making my way back down the street. At a very young age I had been taught a nasty habit. Mother used to do it and so after years of seeing her do it I began to do it as well. The habit was one of shopping. Yes, shopping away my feelings. When I had too much going on I shopped. I hadn't been able to do it in a while but with the money I'd won from poker and the money from Jonathan, I had more than enough.

The first store I stopped in was a shoe store. I wanted to get Joker a new pair of shoes for his were worn and tattered. He wouldn't find it the most fun present but I was sure he'd be grateful. I didn't know his exact size so I had to guess, I guessed a little bigger than I thought to give him room to grow. If they were too big then there was no problem but if they were too small then…well he couldn't wear them.

Next I stopped into a perfume boutique. I had vague memories of Rose telling me that sometimes she wished she had something to mark her as a girl and not just one of the guys. Perfume was the perfect answer to that problem. I smelled quite a few before I finally decided on one I thought Rose would like. I smiled as I bought it, knowing Rose would be envied by all the girls at the Manhattan LH, heck probably envied by all female newsies.

Jonathan was a little harder to shop for, what do you get for a boy who's already got everything. I thought and thought but could not come up with something to buy him. Not that I didn't get him a gift, it's just that this gift couldn't be bought. I was going to give him one whole day of complete control over me. I had to do whatever he said whenever he said it. I knew he'd like it.

And then there was Spot, who was by far the hardest to shop for. I wanted to get him something special but I didn't want to look like I'd put to much thought or time into the gift. Does that make sense? Nothing seemed…right. But then I saw it. "It" being a beautiful dark red Swiss Army knife I had ever seen. I know, beautiful is a weird word to describe a knife but that's what it was. The color was so vibrant and rich. It wasn't like I didn't expect Spot to already have some kind of knife, it's just that this one would be new and clean and high quality, things I'm positive his weren't.

The day of the Christmas party arrived sooner than you can say "Merry Christmas!" Because the party was on Christmas Eve and not Christmas itself I decided to save Spot's present until the next day. We'd been getting alone fine all that week, pretending that the kiss hadn't happened but there was something in the awkward pauses and unnatural glances that made it evident that something had indeed happened.

It became apparent as we (Spot and I) entered the Manhattan LH that we weren't the only outsiders to be involved in the party. There were boys everywhere, many of whom I'd never met, and girls, more than that which resided in Manhattan, hanging off of the boys. Despite all this, the party was still considerably smaller than Medda's and a lot more welcoming.

The room looked quite a bit different from the last time I'd been here. It seemed that the boys had been doing some redecorating for the party. To start with, all the bunks were pushed up against the walls of the room. Then there were the added tables and chairs, most of which were full. Finally, Christmas decorations such as a small evergreen (complete with pine cones and homemade ornaments), mistletoe, and a lot of tinsel (it seemed that someone had made it their job to cover every inch of the room with something shiny).

"Hey Spot, long time no see."

Spot and I turned to see a pretty ginger haired girl with one green eye and one blue eye. "Heya Butterfly, finally out of the refuge, I see." Spot replied as I stared at the girl's eyes.

Butterfly noticed my stares and adopted a disgusted look, "And uh…who's this?"

Before Spot could answer I did, "I'm Bethany."

"Huh, not yer usual type Spotty." She said acting as if I hadn't spoken at all.

Spot snorted, "Ya got that right. But we ain't together."

"Oh," Butterfly brightened, "Well then, let's go have us some fun, eh?" She said linking arms with Spot and leading him away. I felt slightly annoyed (okay, yes that's the understatement of the year. I was super annoyed) as I began to look for Rose. We'd been here less than five minutes and Spot had already left me.

"Hey Bethy! Over here!" I located the source of the voice from somewhere to my right and gladly found Rose sitting there grinning. "How long have ya been here?"

"Not to long." I pulled a crudely wrapped gift from my bag and handed it to her, "Here, it's your gift."

"You really didn't have ta do this," She reprimanded. I smiled for she could not mask her excitement with anger.

"I know but I wanted to."

"Ooooooh," Rose gushed as she revealed the perfume. "Ya remember what I said!" Carefully putting it down, she jumped on my in a big hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Now I will smell like a goil instead of alcohol and smoke."

My smile widened, if that was even possible, "I knew you'd like it."

"Okay, yer turn!" Rose said as she pushed my down in her abandoned chair.

"Rose, what are you-"

"EXCUSE ME!" Rose yelled, catching the attention of everyone at the party. "Thank you! Now as we all know, Bethany here," I shrank back as everyone's eyes turned towards me, "became a Brooklyn newsie not to long ago." A murmur of agreement went around the room. "So for Christmas the Brooklyn goils and Spot came up with a name for her. Yer all about ta witness Miss Bethany Fullmer's induction to the newsie ranks." The room burst with cheers and applause and I couldn't help but giggle. They were all making it out to be such a big deal when I know for a fact it usually isn't. Oh well, I thought, at least they're excepting me. Because in a way they were.

"Do I get to hear this name or are you going to leave me in suspense?" I asked.

Rose smiled, "As soon as Spot gets his ass up here we'll-"

"I'm here." Spot said stepping forward and standing beside Rose.

"Good, now we shall begin the christening." Again I had to laugh as all the newsies made a circle around the three of us. It started with Rose taking Spot's cane and holding it like a sword proclaiming, "From here on end ya shall no longer be known as Bethany Fullmer but as simply 'Martyr'." I barely had time to comprehend my name when Rose tapped my shoulders with the cane and passed it to Spot. Spot rolled his eyes but mimicked Rose's movements, and then the room exploded with noise.

"Why Martyr?" I asked Spot above the noise.

"Because ya suffered through the pain of being penniless ta save yer the one ya loved."

I grinned and nodded, "I think that's a wonderful reason." Spot and my eyes locked and for a moment I thought we might kiss but then an unexpected visitor burst through the door.

"SPOT!" The trance was broken as Spot turned to look at the small girl before him.

"What? What is it Runnah?"

Runner panted as if she had just run all the way from Brooklyn to Manhattan, "She's back."

"Who's back?"

Runner took a deep breath, "Honey."

suspenseful music

So yeah, that was pretty action packed, was it not? Please don't tell me you forgot who Honey is already! (If this story is starting to sound like one you already read, trust me, it's different...very different)

Tell me what you think...because if you don't then i won't write simple as that.

PS 5 reviews last time...pathetic, especially when the week before there were like 12