Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me cept Enchanted...yadayadayada.

~*~
Baby looked around her settings. She had just stepped off the Brooklyn Bridge, and onto the cold cobblestone. She brushed back her blonde hair and stepped faster towards the Brooklyn Lodging House. Brooklyn wasn't very safe during the day. But right now, the sun was about to set, making it very risky for a girl like her to be walking through these streets. She had to talk to Spot. She had seen the way Race had looked at Mysty. Her Race. She had been walking since dinnertime, and she had been devising a plan. Very simple, really.

Her step quickened as she neared the building she recognized as the Brooklyn Lodging House. She didn't want to enter into the main part and be groped and ogled at. Baby knew that Spot had his own bedroom, with his own window. The so-called 'King of Brooklyn' wanted his own privacy. Baby snorted. 'And the seclusion of his own room where he can bed as many girls as he likes,' she thought derisively. Walking around the other side of the building, she reached the stairs to the fire escape that connected to his window. Through the glass, she could see a little light burning. Stretching up, she scaled the flight of stairs easily and looked into the window. There, Spot was brooding about something, staring at the wall, an angry scowl on his face. She impatiently rapped her knuckles on the window, making him jerk out of his trance.

He looked up at whatever interrupted his thoughtful pondering, expecting a bird or a hopeful dog. The first thought when he saw Baby was, 'I didn't look fo' a prostitute.' His second thought was, 'I've seen her before.' Then he realized it was Baby, from the Manhattan Lodging House. He recognized her as Race's girl, and then he corrected himself. 'Used ta be Race's girl,' he thought wryly. He stood up from his bed and pushed the window up quietly. After a moment of indecision, he joined her on the fire escape, feeling the cold night air brush against his cheek. His blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Whad are ya doin' heah, Baby?" he asked distrustfully.

"Hear me out, aw right, Spot?" Baby begged.

"Whad are ya doin' heah, Baby?" Spot repeated.

"Spot, ya have ta help me. I'se know I'se belong wid Race, and he knows it too. He jist won't admit it. Somehow he's too scared," she paused to collect her thoughts and then continued, "He's too scared to. And now Mysty's moved in on him, and she's his goil."

"Whad does dis hafta do wid me?" Spot asked quietly, not wanting to hear what she had to say. He didn't want to hear that she had gotten someone else that quickly, much quicker than he had.

"I'se also know dat you'se still have feelings fo' Mysty." Spot stared at the metal grating, suddenly interested in its chinks and spaces.

"How?"

"Easy," Baby shrugged, "Two days, Spot. Da longest you've evah been widout a goil. Usually when ya break up, ya find someone ta replace her perdy quick." 'And he has girls lined up around New York twice, just waiting to go on a date with him,' she thought scornfully.

Spot put on a quick façade, making his face unreadable. "If I'se do it, whad's in it fo' me...and you?"

"I'se git Race back in me arms whea he belongs. And you'se git Mysty back," Baby offered.

"Dat ain't good enough," Spot shook his head, "If I'se gonna waste me time pretendin' ta be ya man, I'se want some money."

"Two dollahs a day. All I'se can afford," Baby pleaded.

Spot shook his head again, ready to refuse when a memory buried within his mind flashed up to him and replayed before his eyes.

The girl was different. Just by entering the Lodging House, everyone had shut up. Her brown eyes swept the room, picking apart every single thing. She moved in a graceful way, and even though it wasn't visual, it was evident she was very strong.

She walked boldly up to Spot. "You Spot Conlon?" she asked simply.

"Yeah," Spot nodded, "Whad is it?"

"I wanna be a newsie," she stated. Rumbles of laughter went around the room. Spot smirked.

"Well, shoah, honey," he shrugged easily, and he couldn't stop his hands from reaching to touch her. She was very pretty after all. What she did next stunned everyone in the room. Quickly, she slapped his outstretched hands away. Spot drew back at the anger in her eyes. No one had ever looked at Spot Conlon, Leader of Brooklyn, that way before.

"Heya, honey, don'tcha dare try ta look at me dat way," he threatened, angry at being showed up in front of his followers.

"Oh," her eyes lit up in recognition; "I know who you are. You're Spot Conlon...the famed leader of Brooklyn."

Spot nodded proudly, unconsciously puffing out his chest. "Dat I am."

"Funny, ain't it. I got a picture of a muscular, strong boy...but you...you're a stick," she quipped quietly. Everyone looked up at this comment. But she continued. She hated people who were full of themselves, and Spot was overflowing with arrogance. "You don't even look like much of a leader."

Spot flashed her a look of complete and total dislike. She, however, met his glare with her own and refused to back down. Still, as she glowered at him, she had to admit, 'He is kinda cute...in an innocent way.'

Suddenly, a wave of laughter interrupted and ended their brief staring contest. "Stop bothering her, Spotty boy. She's new," someone clearly said.

She spun around to acknowledge the voice. She didn't need anyone's help to stand up to the jerk that was the Leader of Brooklyn. She was surprised, however, when she saw that the voice was a girl. Her long black hair and big brown eyes made her seem like she was innocent, but her eyes had a sort of exhausted, not-so-innocent look. She was about her height, and her smile came easily to her thick lips.

"Heya. Enchanted's my name. What's yours?" she asked good-naturedly. She spat in her hand and extended it. After a momentary hesitation, she spat in her own hand and shook Enchanted's firmly.

"Leila. But I don't have a nick name like you do," she said, assuming correctly when she guessed that Enchanted wasn't her real name.

"Well, where do you come from?" Enchanted questioned.

"None a ya business," Leila snapped back. Enchanted just raised her hands in a defenseless gesture.

"All right, you don't wanna tell, no problem," she shrugged, "But you looked like you just appeared through that fog," she pointed at the thick fog and mist that was starting to roll in. "So I'll call ya Mysty. Problem with that?"

Leila, newly christened Mysty, shrugged nonchalantly, secretly pleased that someone had already taken a liking to her.

Spot, however was vexed as he watched Enchanted and 'Mysty' already starting to become good friends. "Hey! Dere ain't no way she's stayin' heah!" he argued, pointing the comment towards Enchanted.

"Now, Spotty," she said quietly, a hint of amusement in her tranquil voice, "Just because she doesn't like you doesn't mean she can't stay here, now, does it?"

"I'se da leadah a dis Lodgin' House, and whad---" he started to say, when Enchanted stepped up to him and pinched his cheek.

"You're so cute when you're angry, my ex-boyfriend!" she spoke in baby tones. Mysty fought down the swell of laughter at the sight the two of them made. 'Ex-boyfriend,' she thought, and then asked, 'Why do I care?' Still, they looked pretty close for just being friends.

"Don't push it, Chanty," he growled threateningly.

But Mysty had the feeling that Spot could be much meaner if he wanted to be, and that he was toning down for her benefit.

Enchanted patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Spot, let her stay. She has no where to go," she lowered her voice so that only he could hear.

He sighed. That was how Enchanted knew he was going to give in. Whenever he sighed, he was sure to say yes. "Fine," he said, resentment in his voice. Enchanted smiled happily and gave him a quick hug.

"C'mon, Mysty, let's go," she tilted her head towards the staircase that led up the stairs, "Later you gotta talk to Mr. Williams, the owner of the Lodging House. But let's talk, ok?"

Mysty nodded and followed her up the stairs.

Spot watched her. There was something different about this girl indeed. When their eyes met in the death glare, he felt something tighten within him, like a ball of string being squeezed indefinitely. And the defiant way she had rejected him made him want to know her even better. No one had ever rejected him before like that. Most girls would kill to have Spot look at them, much less smile at them. There was a certain enticement about her that she had...a certain lure...he felt like he was going to get to know her better indeed.

Mysty averted her eyes as she thought about his smirk. 'What kind of a proud, conceited guy is he?' Still...he was cute...she had to admit that. And maybe it would only get better with time. She didn't know.

Enchanted elbowed her. "Got eyes for Spot?"

"No!" Mysty protested loudly, "That stupid, proud, arrogant---"

"You've got it bad," Enchanted commented quietly, "But let me warn you, Mys," she said, penning another nickname for her, "He doesn't care about a girl after he breaks up with her. He jumps from girl to girl, making sure that he keeps his reputation as the most wanted boy of New York."

"Well, En," Mysty shrugged, adopting her way of nicknaming people, "You were pretty close to Spot back there."

Enchanted shrugged, "Well that's cuz we were pretty close to begin with. And I know that he wasn't serious when I became his girlfriend."

Mysty nodded, and looked down towards Spot. In astonishment, he was looking back up at her, thinking about something...she turned her gaze away, pretending not to notice him.

Enchanted watched the two of them. 'They've got it bad for each other,' she thought, with a smile. 'Can't wait to see what this evolves into.'

It evolved into a real relationship, which lasted longer then both of them could have ever known. And that was special right there. Spot inhaled, and then sighed. "Yeah, shoah." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I'se only doin' it cuz I'se want---" he trailed off. "Tomorrow we'se staht ok?"

Baby nodded, pleased that he had agreed to her plan. She made her way down the stairs, noting that Spot was still waiting on the fire escape.

"Baby?" he called after her, "Don't tell anyone."

"Aw right," she agreed before disappearing into the night.

Spot Conlon stared after her, not seeing her face and body, but seeing Mysty's face and body. After a few minutes, he stepped back into his room and closed the window.