A/N Hello! This is my first time writing anything public, so I hope this goes well! I'm a big theatre geek and I couldn't resist writing about Jack, Katherine and the newsies. I want to do them justice so please comment, and constructive criticism is welcome!

Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of the characters included. I only own the plot :)

Katherine sighed as she fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, not noticing the ink smudges that stained it. She sat across from Hannah, her father's secretary. Hannah had given up on sending her concerned looks, seeing that it did nothing to calm the Pulitzer daughter's nerves. The mahogany doors loomed over her, and waiting was punishment in itself.

Even though she hated to admit it, she was a Pulitzer for god's sake, and she was being put on a flat bench in the hallway like a child? For an appointment with her father no less. In spite of the fact that he was the one to invite her, she still had to be subjected to this mental agony. Oh it was definitely intentional. He was most definitely sitting at his desk and enjoying making her wait for no reason other than to "put her in her place". She had to fight the urge to rip something.

Six months since the strike and their relationship hadn't gotten any better. In fact, it was worse. He tried to ban her from The Sun, she wrote a political piece berating his views. He somehow raised the price of rent in her apartment, she paid it early and spent more money helping the newsies. This childlike game was tiring, yes, but there was no way she would back down. Not until he learned to respect her way of life.

"Earth to Katherine?"

She looked up and saw Darcy standing right in front of her.

"Kath, you uhm, you have your angry face on."

"Oh, sorry." She rubbed the wrinkles between her brows.

Darcy took a seat next to her and patted the snow off of his jacket. The temperature had dropped the past week, and everyone pulled on their thick coats- at least those who could afford one. Katherine hated December before any of the holiday cheer. Around Christmas time people felt warmth in their hearts and held on to their spirit. But before those happy days, winter was only bad news.

"Kath? I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I think that's my line." She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, her reporter instincts kicking in.

"My father wanted to ask Mr. Pulitzer for a favor so he sent me. 'A lesson in business' he put it. Nothing major." Darcy glanced at Katherine. Her hair and makeup was done in her usual style, practical and not showy, but the fidgeting and squirming erased all the grace that normally followed her. "What about you? Are… you ok?" From the look on his face he was treading carefully around her.

Katherine blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "Seeing that I'm waiting endlessly for an appointment with my own father, and a conversation over two sentences always ends badly between us, I'm doing just fine." She slouched in her seat.

Darcy chuckled. Katherine was a composed and polite girl, up until someone pushed her buttons. In this case, being in The World's office already pressed one. Then a scheduled talk with her father? Button two. A long, uncertain wait for a particular impatient journalist? Button three. "Not having a good day, I take it?"

"No. Unless there's a miracle, there's going to be more than a heated conversation behind those doors." She cringed. "Sorry, do you want to go first? I wouldn't want you to get mixed up in our mess."

"No it's fine. Plus, I might be able to calm him down with some of my charm."

Katherine felt a smile tugging at her lips, imagining Jack saying something similar. "Thank you Darcy."

"No problem. Anything for my best friend."

Best friend was right. Ever since they were seven, Darcy was one of the only people who saw through the ridiculousness of high society, and he was perhaps her only friend.

Hannah put down her telephone and coughed to gain Katherine's attention. "Miss Pulitzer? Mr. Pulitzer is ready to see you now."

"Good luck." Darcy patted her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "And also, it can't be that bad right? I mean, last summer you barged in here with the governor in tow! You should be able to handle a little talk."

Katherine nodded. She stood up, straightened her dress, fixed her hair and held her head up high. When the doors opened, she walked in showing no fear.

-o-

"Katherine."

"Father."

Mr. Pulitzer sat at his desk. Putting his paper down, he motioned for her to take a seat across from him.

Complying, Katherine sat stiffly. It was the same chair she had been in when Jack met with her father. She could almost see the look of betrayal in his eyes and quickly willed that thought away.

"How have you been?" He asked, still skimming the page in front of him.

"Fine. You?"

"Very well thank you."

A beat passed. Katherine struggled not to snap at him for making her wait and counted typewriter keys in her head.

Mr. Pulitzer set his reading glasses aside. "You seem to be doing well."

"I believe I am, yes."

"Enjoying life in your little apartment?"

'There it is.' Katherine thought. "As a matter of fact, I am. I'm happy."

"I see." Mr. Pulitzer sat up and made eye contact. "Your mother is getting worried about you."

"Well, please tell her that I am fine."

"You could tell her yourself at dinner, if only you would join us."

Katherine shifted in her seat.

"And she is quite upset that you never visit, Edith too. You need to consider how your actions affect others."

"I would visit as often as I could if it weren't for your insistence on causing an argument between us." She felt her composure slipping away. "Besides, I could say the same about you. Nothing you say or do to me is in consideration for my happiness."

"Kitty, calm down." Mr. Pulitzer said.

"Don't call me that. I am not a child." Her tone sharpened. Katherine folded her hands on her lap. Truthfully, she was scared. Every time he used his calm voice she was brought back to her childhood. Kitty, she was called. And she would be summoned into her father's study to be scolded on speaking back to her tutor, or not doing well at a formal dinner. The little Katherine back then tried her hardest to please him, and it stung more than she expected it to, to relive that fear.

"We only want you to come home. Stop this game and live a proper life."

"What for? My life is more proper than anything you've planned for me! I'm finally judged by my own accomplishments."

He slammed the table and Katherine couldn't help but flinch.

"If you don't want to be treated like a child, then stop acting like one." He rubbed his temples and sighed. "Katherine, I have supported your career. I will even let you continue this at home. But you will come back and be the disciplined young lady that I have raised you to be. And you will live in comfort! It's past time you show your face in society."

"Father!" Her face reddened with anger. "I thought you of all people would understand this concept, but a simple life, one of a hard working individual is more proper than any 'comfort'. There are people out there, like-"

"Like those newsies?" Mr. Pulitzer interjected. "Yes I am very much aware of how hard they work. And yet they still find time to steal and cause a raucous in this city."

Katherine stood up. "Those boys are-"

"Another subject I wanted to discuss with you." he said. "Sit down. I cannot have a civil conversation while you are throwing a tantrum."

She remained on her feet and glared.

"Very well then. I've noticed how much time you spend with that scum."

"Scum?" She scoffed. "Is that what you call your employees now?"

Mr. Pulitzer continued. "I know you've had your fun with those newsboys and your article in the strike. I thought that you would get tired with their ways after a while, but it seems that you have made ties with them. Especially one in particular."

She felt a bone chilling shiver at the mention of the 'one in particular'. Katherine's face paled. She must have been completely transparent, because her father gave her a knowing look.

"So I was right. Katherine. Look at me."

Curiosity getting the better of her, she did.

"You are getting too old for games. What ever happened to the respected woman I raised? You cannot go around with Jack Kelly like some school girl!"

"I can if he makes me happy."

"Oh Katherine."

"No! Don't Katherine me! You don't know how happy he makes me father!"

"I know full well how happy you think he makes you. But you forget. You are a seventeen year old girl who cannot seem to see the reality of things!"

"I can't see reality?" Katherine shouted. "They are better than most of the people I know! Including you!"

"Enough!" Mr. Pulitzer matched her gaze. "I have had enough of you ruining me. This is for your own good, not that you would understand yet. I have decided that you aren't to see any of them again."

Katherine found a shred of calmness to carry her voice. "Or what? You'll ground me?"

Her father made his way to the window. "Oh quite the contrary. You'd be free to walk the city, maybe you will encounter the Delancy brothers on their way to have some fun with the newsies."

She stood in disbelief. "You would have innocent children beaten up for your convenience? Who have you become?"

"Whether they get hurt is entirely up to you. As to who I am, you should know by now that the world isn't a simple place. I am a businessman, and I like things to go my way. And as your father, you will do as I say." He turned to face her. "If you really think that the Delancies are the worst I have, then I suggest you go back to writing entertainment columns."

Katherine couldn't bring herself to speak. Or breathe. She could only move her legs toward the door and turn the knob.

"I've arranged for movers to come to your apartment at nine in the morning. You should start packing." He called after her.

The heavy doors slammed shut and Darcy looked up.

"How was it?" He asked. His voice was sympathetic, but Katherine couldn't bring herself to answer.

Darcy stood and put his hand on her arm. "Katherine, what's wrong?"

Feeling hot tears threatening to spill, she latched on to the last sliver of composure she had left. She felt a familiar weight in her chest and a struggle to breathe. "I need to go."

"Wait! Katherine! Are you alright?"

She rushed past him. Katherine knew that she owed him a proper explanation but she only had the strength to keep going for the door.

Outside, the snow from the morning had turned to sleet. The mushy sludge mixed with the grime of the city, dirtying the boots and skirts of all New Yorkers passing by. Katherine cursed herself for forgetting her things at her father's office-her things including a coat. And her keys. But there wasn't anything she could do. The only thing in her mind was getting as far away from him as possible. She held everything in, just another stranger on the street, until she tore her gaze away from the cobblestone road. A boy was waving his hands to different passerbys, selling the evening paper.

"Papes for today! Read all about the Battle of Umm Diwaykarat!"

He must have been around eleven and fairly new. Katherine strained to see who he was, but couldn't recognize him. She listened to him for another moment, before feeling the day's emotions start to weigh on her shoulders. She ran, even when she felt people's stares. It was too much. Turning to an alleyway, she felt the welcoming dark. Katherine couldn't care less about the dirty floor or the slow drops of rain, she could only think about Jack. The person who could light up her life in an instant. The person who she couldn't ever see again. Jack. The more times that name repeated in her mind, she felt the dull pang in her chest. It had been a while since she felt this way, probably since the day she saw him in The World's cellar with the Delancies. Guilt and panic, the burning in her lungs from holding her breath and keeping her cries silent. She would never tell him that she was there that day, but the screams Katherine heard from the other side of the door wouldn't be forgotten. It was when she finally talked to Jack in his 'penthouse' where that heaviness went away. The feeling that they could do anything, have their voices heard.

Could she defy her father again? But as soon as that thought came, the images of Crutchie after the Refuge, and the boys' descriptions of Jack after he had faced the same fate not so long ago flooded her mind. They said that he had nightmares. Scars. Trauma. The sketches he drew of the horrid place was evidence enough that she could never let him relive that again. Even if she had to break his heart, and even if she had to break hers a million times over, she knew that he would do the same for her.

As the rain poured harder, Katherine curled up to keep warm, and if she listened hard enough, she could almost hear the silent scribbles of Jack's pencil.