December 24, 1899

All the newsies gathered at Irving Hall for Christmas Eve. Since the strike, the boroughs had become closer. Alliances were formed. Jack could trust Spot and Spot could trust Jack. Actually, Spot wasn't about to trust Jack until Chase put in her opinion. Other boroughs had taken Manhattan and Brooklyn's example, it had been a peaceful couple of months in the newsies' world and there had been much excitement about going into a new century. It was going to be a great year.

Medda motioned Chase to come up on stage.

"Ready, Chase?" She asked.

"Yeah!" Chase answered enthusiastically.

Medda spoke with her Swedish accent. "And now, the lovely Chase Meyers will grace us with a song."

"What do you want me to play?" David asked.

"Surprise me." Chase winked.

"Ok..." David though for a second. "Got it!"

As soon as David began to play the intro Chase smiled, she knew this song by heart. Spot had taught it to her. Some of the newsies in the crowd knew it too, from their excited chatter.

"I think most of you know this song, so join in and sing with me!"

Down in front of Medda's Old brown wooden stoop, On a summer's evening, We formed a merry group; Boys and girls together, We would sing and waltz, David and Story played the organ On the Sidewalks of New York.

Chase changed some of the lyrics for her friends. This song reminded them a lot of their victory in the strike, which brought back memories both good and bad.

East side, west side, All around the town, Les sang "Ring-a-Rosie," Brooklyn Bridge ain't Falling Down. Mush and Spark together, Me and the King of New York, Tripped the light fantastic, On the sidewalks of New York.

Spot jumped up on the stage and pulled Chase into a dance position. Chase was overjoyed that she was back to dancing again. Spot spun her faster and faster until they were just a blur on the stage. The two of them laughed until it was time to sing again.

Things have changed since those times, Some are up in "G," Others, they are wand'rers, But they all feel just like me; They'd part with all they've got, Could they but once more waltz, With their best girl and have a twirl On the Sidewalks of New York. East side, west side, All around the town, Boots sang "Ring-a-Rosie," Brooklyn Bridge ain't Falling Down." Jack and Sarah together, Me and the King of New York, Tripped the light fantastic, On the sidewalks of New York.

The song ended. Half of the audience, plus Chase, Spot, and David were out of breath from the singing and dancing (and piano playing). There was a smile on every face.

"You were great!" Helena said to Chase.

"I think-" Skittery started.

"Save it." Chase actually had to hold Spot back that time.

Spot had to walk away, Something was bound to set him off. And then Chase would be mad at him. That wouldn't be a good ending to their otherwise perfect Christmas Eve. "I'm gonna go get some water."

"Ok," Chase was about to start the conversation back up when Story and David began to play a duet that he had taught her.

"I love this song!" Chase gushed. She walked away from Helena and Skittery to see if anyone wanted to dance. Clearly, Spot wasn't in the mood so she figured she'd find someone else.

Chase carefully maneuvered her way through the pairs of dancers. There were a lot of couples on the dance floor and she didn't want to trip. Her walk was still uneasy. As she came to the edge of the floor, she tripped, letting out a little scream. Someone caught her arm before she impacted the ground.

"Careful," It was a deep, cool-sounding, male voice she didn't recognize.

Chase looked the boy over as he helped her up. He was tall and muscular, intimidatingly so. He had jet-black hair and his hat partially obscured his face. She couldn't really see his eyes.

"Thank you," Chase tried to pull away but the boy wouldn't let go of her wrist.

"You wanna dance?" His voice was almost monotone, which was unsettling. It was like he was half dead.

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure?" He gave a very small smirk, pulling her closer.

"I- I can't." Chase stammered, hoping she could figure her way out of this.

"'Course you do."

"No, I don't want to!" Chase asserted. But he tightened his grip and started to drag her to the dance floor.

Chase began to panic. She had danced with guys like this before, when she went to school. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. No matter what Chase could do, he would be able to overpower her. There would be no escape until the song ended, and even then, he might still try to keep her.

"Chase," Chase and the boy spun around at the same time, coming face to face Spot.

Chase exhaled with relief.

"It's time to go home." Spot said firmly, narrowing his eyes at the newsie who held Chase captive. "Now."

The boy wasn't ready to let go yet, but Chase managed to slip out of his grip when he had unintentionally loosened his hold on her. She linked arms with Spot."

"Goodbye," The boy had the audacity to say.

Chase tensed with anger. Spot glared at the newsie one last time, memorizing his face in case he ever saw him again, and he led Chase toward the door.

"Do you know that guy?" Spot asked when they were out of the boy's earshot.

"No,"

Spot turned his eyes toward her. He could tell she was telling the truth by the way she wouldn't look at him. Who was that guy?


December 25, 1899

The next morning, the girls woke up to presents under the Christmas tree. Chase loved to watch the younger girls' joy as they opened their presents, despite how small they were, before starting on hers.

Spark played some Christmas carols on the old hand-me-down piano while Chase led the singalong. Then, Story read the Christmas story for all the young ones to hear. By 2:00 in the afternoon, every one of the Brooklyn girls had fallen asleep amidst the paper and ribbons strewn about the floor.

Spot had to smile when Ms. Casella let him into the girls lodging house. The parlor floor was occupied by 100 sleeping girls. Chase, Spark, and Story were leaning against each other by the piano. Each of them snoring softly (and quite ladylike). He hated to have to wake them.

"Wake up, Sleepin' Beauties." He whispered, gently nudging Chase's shoulder.

She hummed softly and turned, burying her head in Story's shoulder.

"Come on, Chase. When you gotta get up, you gotta get up."

"You're mad." She said in her sleep.

Spot rolled his eyes. "I ain't mad, I'm Spot Conlon."

Chase's eyes fluttered open and she cocked her head. "Spot!" She practically jumped into his arms, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Spot laughed.

The other two girls were startled awake.

"Ya know, Spot, a gentleman woulda let the ladies sleep." Said Spark.

Spot scoffed as he helped Spark and Story up. "I ain't a gentleman, and I've known you forever, you ain't a lady."

Spark stuck her tongue out at him.

He turned glance over to the couch. Ms. Casella was on her husband's lap and they were reading together. He had explained his plan to them a couple of weeks ago. Spot would take Chase to Manhattan and give her his Christmas present. Then, they would meet all the rest of the Brooklyn and Manhattan newsies at the lodging house for the surprise. And they'd finish the night with a perfect dinner with the girls.

"Hey, Chase," Spot said. "Why don't you go get prettied up. I wanna go to Manhattan-" he blinked when he heard her echo the last part. "What?"

"I, um... left my stuff at Medda's. Could we go get ready there?" Chase looked up at him, still held in his strong embrace.

"Uh, yeah."

Chase suppressed a sigh of relief. She had been hoping to get Spot to Manhattan, her present for him was there. And it wasn't like she could take it with her. Spot was tough to find a present for. She wanted it to mean something to him, which was difficult for a guy like him. The little things pleased him though, so Chase was sure he would like his gift.

"We'll meet yous there." Story said as the couple made their way to the door.

"For what?" Chase asked.

"You'll just have to be patient." Spot winked.

The two of them rushed to Medda's. They were both so eager to give each other their presents. A maid let them in the door. Medda and Mark were probably upstairs getting ready for the night.

Chase started up the steps and then stopped, suddenly aware that Spot wasn't behind her.

"Are you coming?"

"What do you mean, am I coming?" Spot raised an eyebrow.

"Like I would do something like that. Nick would kill me!" She ranted. "Just come upstairs you bum."

Spot followed, allowing Chase to lead him by the wrist, but he was still confused. She took him down a hallway he hadn't ever needed to go down. They stopped in front of a closed door.

"Ok," she started. "I'm going to give you my present first. I know it's not much, but I talked to the other boys and I think you'll like it." She slowly pushed the door open.

"Of course I'll-" Spot caught his breath at what he saw.

It was a bathroom, clean and white. He took a step inside. It was definitely the nicest bathroom he had ever been in. In the center of the room was a porcelain bathtub filled to the top with water so hot, Spot could see steam rising in the air.

"It's mine- well, it's mine when I stay here. Medda said you can come over whenever you want and use it.

Spot stood there, still speechless. There was no way she could ever know how much this meant to him. He had never gotten a warm bath before. Ever.

He pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you, Roselia." Using her given name.

"I'm happy you like it." There were tears in her eyes. She was touched by his gratitude for something that was so small to her.

Spot started pulling off his suspenders.

"Oh- I better go." She closed the door behind her. She didn't want to leave him, so she sat against the wall in the hallway.

"Chase, you still there?" Spot asked through the door.

"Yes..." Chase smiled.

"I knew it."

Chase spent the next few hours in the hall talking to Spot as he savored every moment in the tub. She sang to him through the door and she even read a few chapters from the battered copy of "Les Miserables" that had been going back and forth between boroughs.

David and Story had introduced it to their friends because it reminded them of the strike. Spot, who hated reading and books, tried not to listen as they read to the newsies at the Manhattan lodging house. But eventually, the poker games slowed so the boys could listen and Spot didn't have a choice. And he would never admit it, but Spot got really into the story. Especially the romance between Cosette and Marius. He had a hard time not discussing it in length with Mush, who everyone knew was a romantic.

"What time is it?" Spot asked.

"5:30."

"Why don't you go get ready?"

"For what? Dinner isn't until 8."

"Could you just listen to me for once?" She was being so difficult.

"For once? I listen you all the-" she paused. That wasn't exactly true. Both Chase and Spot played by their own rules. "Fine. I'll go get ready."

Chase made her way back down the hall to the room she, Story, and Spark shared when they performed at Medda's shows. She pulled out the dress she got from the Casellas. It was the nicest dress she had gotten in a long time. It was lilac, which went perfect with her pale green eyes, and it cinched at just the right spot on her waist with a black ribbon. Chase also had her nicest white stockings and a pair of black boots to go with it.

The problem was her hair. Chase usually left it down, the ends reached the middle of her back. She was going to use the pink ribbons Spot had given her for her birthday but they just didn't look right with the shade of lilac she was wearing.

"Need some help, honey?" Medda was standing in the doorway in her flashy purple gown.

"Yes," Chase sighed. "I can't get my hair right.

"Well then let's see what we can do now." Medda motioned for Chase to sit down I front of the small vanity. Medda rummaged through the closet Chase and the other girls shared from time-to-time. Chase raised an eyebrow. What would she find for her hair in the closet? Medda came out a few minutes later and produced a small package tied with a purple ribbon.

"What's this?" Chase asked, eyeing the package.

"Your Christmas present."

"Oh, Medda you didn't have to-"

"Never turn down something you can get for free. Open it up!"

Chase carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside were hairpins. There were white pearl flowers with amethyst centers that sparkled in the light. They were absolutely gorgeous. She hugged Medda.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!"

"You deserve it, dearie. You've been a hard worker at my theatre and you've brought in such good business. This is my "thank you" to you."

Medda took the pins and assessed Chase's hair in the mirror. "I know exactly what we can do."

She pinned the front of Chase's hair back with a little twist, letting the curls cascade down her back. "Perfect. Ready to see your man?"


When Spot was ready, he went downstairs to wait for Chase in the foyer. Mark, Medda's husband was down there waiting too.

"This could be a while," Mark said. So they talked about baseball and the headlines (the things most important to them) eagerly glancing at the clock every few minutes.

Spot looked up when he heard a sound at the top of the steps. She was ready.

Spot stood there speechless as he gazed up at Chase. She was stunning. The way she looked now, no one would be able to tell that she was a poor newsie. She looked like a proper, wealthy young woman. A princess. Like she was the day Spot saved her.

Chase descended the stairs smiling her pretty smile. "What do you think?"

"What do I think? You're beautiful, that's what I think." He took Chase's hand and twirled her to get the full picture.

"I'm sorry I'm not wearing your ribbons." Chase said.

"Nah, ya don't need em." Spot stepped back so she could see his full ensemble. "What about me? How do I look?"

Chase looked him up and down.

Spot was dressed in a clean white shirt and black pants (a Christmas present from the nuns) and his signature red suspenders. The same ones Chase had given him 3 Christmases ago.

"You clean up nice Mr. Spot Conlon."

"I know." He said with a smug smile.


A/N: So the song in this chapter is "The Sidewalks of New York". I was so happy to find this one. I like to keep my stories mostly historically accurate so I don't like to write about songs that didn't exist during the time period. "The Sidewalks of New York" was written around 1894. It has become one of my favorite old-timey songs. If you listen to it you'll probably recognize the tune, it's played a lot on carousels.

Also, Spot finally got his porcelain tub with boiling water!