Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies. All I own is Stage. ToT/Slingshot owns herself.
Opening Comments:
Explanation: ToT is the same person as Slingshot. Slingshot is just her cover-up when she's "a guy" so to speak.
Shout Outs~
Skitch: XD I still really don't see how they remind you of the FEDEX commercial. I'll have to read over that chapter. Er, careful not to scratch Dutchy's glasses…
Bluehag: ^^;; Heh…
dragon: Hm, I'll take a look at the dialogue and see if I can't fix it…
Rabbit: Indeed it is odd. Did I mention we were on Port Wine Cheese, Sunkist, and crackers?
dreamcoat: Thanks!
Title: Immigrants
Authors: Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)
****
"Woo. That was a close one, eh?" Blink said, stopping to rest. "Since when do they sell there?"
"They don't. They're new, genius. Remember?" Dutchy replied. Mush plopped down on the cobblestone and sighed. Dave leaned against a wall and ran his fingers through his hair. "We'll have to be careful when we're talking about things they shouldn't overhear."
"What did you guys do this time?" Specs asked, getting up from the fence he was perched on. He walked over and the color drained from four faces. Dave looked to Mush who looked up at Dutchy, who then glanced at Blink.
"Well see, the thing is…" Mush began, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "We were kinda talking still after you left…"
"You know, about which guy was cuter. Er, if they were female that is." Dutchy added quickly.
"Yeah, and…?"
"You musta've caught their attention when you stormed off, Spec." Blink said, cautiously. "Because they kind of overheard the things we were sayin'."
"They didn't hear before that, did they?" Specs asked.
"Don't think so." Dave told him. "It didn't seem like they knew about it anyway."
"Can you help me up, Specs?" Mush asked, holding out his hand. Specs took it and hauled him to his feet. "Hey thanks, pal."
"No problem." He replied.
"Oof!" Blink cried out. Specs started to turn around before a body slammed into him.
"ACK!" He yelled, struggling against the headlock he was in. Specs and Blink barely heard the hysterical laughter from Dutchy, Mush, and Dave.
"Heya, Blink." Slingshot said. Blink's head swiveled to look at him, with both eyes. The patch was now halfway up his forehead. "Hey! You really do have an eye. Nice selling tactic there, kid." He said.
"Shh, you crazy idiot! This is my selling area." Blink hissed, pulling the patch back down and shoving Slingshot off him.
"Get off!" Specs exclaimed, struggling out of the hold and throwing Stage to the ground in the progress. "Are you insane?"
"Pretty much." Stage replied, standing up. "Ouch, that cobblestone's painful. I'll have a bruise there."
"Didn't you know, Specs? Italians are a little crazy." Slingshot told him, making the motion towards his head. "Little messed up in here." [1]
"Make good food, though." Stage insisted.
"Speaking of food," Slingshot interrupted. "We need to get some. Know any good places?"
"You could have just asked, you know." Specs muttered, rubbing his neck.
"You really don't have to attack us." Blink added, still adjusting the eye patch of his. "But yeah. Tibby's is good."
"Let's roll!" Stage exclaimed, punching the sky. The boys exchanged glances, sighed, and led the way.
****
"Nice place." Slingshot commented looking around.
"I don't care how it looks, where's the food?" Stage whined as his stomach growled. "Ooh! Let's sit here!"
"How often is he like this?" Blink asked. "Stage certainly has a lot of energy."
"He's like this all the time." Slingshot complained. "At least you didn't have to be on a boat with him, or live with him."
"You're no picnic, either." Stage shot back.
"You could live with us at the boarding house." Dutchy suggested and he pulled out his chair and sat down. "All the Newsies in Manhattan are there."
"No thanks!" Stage and Slingshot chorused.
"Uh, I mean…we have a nice place and…" Slingshot started a cover-up.
"We don't like crowds—" Stage added, picking up on it.
"—to live in, that is—"
"—We're quite comfortable. Really!"
"…" All four newsies waited in silence to see if they were done or not.
"Oh, look! Foods here!" Stage exclaimed, breaking the awful silence and taking the boy's thoughts off their hasty decline of boarding. Slingshot was very interested in his coleslaw and pork chops. Stage was absorbed in digging the croutons out of his salad and eating them.
"Hey, there you are boys." Racetrack said, coming into the restaurant with Boots and Jack. "Spot's asked us to drop by Brooklyn today with the new ones."
"Says he wants to see the 'fresh meat', so speak." Jack said, looking at the two. Stage grinned, croutons forgotten and Slingshot smiled as well as he shoveled a forkful of pork chops into his mouth.
****
[1] Stage: SERIOUSLY! Italians are like, naturally wacky. I'm little strange myself, but you should meet my Dad and Grandmother. XD