(Once again I'm going to ask you to open a review box now, because by the end you are going to hate me so much all you will be able to do is swear at me and I want to have some of your opinions before you degenerate into mindless enraged profanities and Killersabinx, I know I'm an asshole.)

Pips had walked the familiar streets for lower Manhattan with out seeing anything around her. She was too lost in thought and misery to know where she was, or where she was going. There was no destination in mind, but she was still surprised to find herself outside Irving Hall. She stood staring up at the bright gaudy picture of Medda for a few moments and with a particularly bitter gust of wind she decided to go in. The steamy backstage was sharp contrast to the chill outside and it took Pips a minute to adjust.

While she was still chafing her hands together to warm them Medda found her, "Why hello darling, you're here early."

"Huh?" She suddenly remembered the 'party', "Oh right, um..."

She shrugged hopelessly and Medda gave her a kind smile, "Come with me."

She took the young girl down a hallway of dressing room doors, "I'm used to newsies coming to me when they have problems. Most of the time I put the boys to work to take their minds off of it. After a while it usually doesn't seem so bad. Sometimes the problem just goes away on its own. I usually have them clean up the messes of the rowdy late night crowds, but that's not proper work for a lady. Besides it's much too early for that kind of mess."

Medda stopped and opened a door with a large golden star painted on it. She led the girl into a large dressing room with a plush blue carpet, a full wall vanity and large overstuffed furniture. They crossed the room to a door and it opened into a closet equally as big as the present room.

"Now dear heart, you can see that this mess of costumes isn't very well organized. I will gladly pay you a dollar to put the dresses in order by color and size. It would be a great help to me because I have no idea what half of the things in there are."

"Alright."

"Wonderful, I'll let you get right to it." Medda smiled and quickly crossed the room, she paused at the door, "You may help yourself to the candies on the vanity." Then she was gone, leaving Pips alone with the dresses and a large bowl of brightly colored sweets.

Pips sighed, she was too miserable even for comfort food so she went straight to work. It was harder than she had expected. Most of the garments were large and unwieldy and an occasional shoe or hat box would come tumbling down. She was soon absorbed in her task and barely noticed the growing noise in the main room. It wasn't until she crammed the last frilly, spangled dress into the closet that she remembered the celebration. She really didn't have the heart to go so she looked around the large dressing room for anything to keep her there. Her eyes landed on the dish of candies and she decided to indulge herself. Pips carefully selected a pale blue candy and popped it into her mouth.

The taste of peppermint brought such a strong wave of memory and emotion that she had to grab the edge of the vanity to keep herself up. She could suddenly feel Blink's lips against hers again and taste his warm sweet breath.

The sensation passed slowly and she remembered Medda's words, 'I'm used to newsies coming to me when they have problems. I usually have them clean up the messes of the rowdy late night crowds.' Blink hadn't been to a bar that night and he hadn't been drunk. He had been upset and gone to Medda for help and come back filthy and tired. Judging from her aching back and arms after the light work she had done she could understand why he had been so disoriented.

Pips rolled the mint across her tongue and could almost feel him against her again, but his words from earlier that night also came back, along with the hurt and the shame they caused. She sighed and looked up into the mirror to see someone coming in, "Blink."

He looked absolutely distraught, "Pips I's so sorry. I didn't know what I was talkin' about." She stubbornly refused to turn and face him, "Please listen ta me, I t'ought you'd jist cut an' run for home. I didn't know nuthin'. I was wrong."

She still wouldn't look at him and he got frustrated, "God! Can't a guy make a mistake? I's stupid alroight, an' I's really sorry for what I said. What's it gonna take fa yous ta forgive me?"

She finally turned to look at him. He looked bedraggled and worn and she got the feeling that he had been looking for her for a very long time. That was pretty hard to believe considering what he had accused her of. But, when she thought about it, it seemed like a reasonable reaction of someone who thought they had been sold out for money.

She wanted to forgive him for the hasty words, but she had to make sure he was truly sorry. There was only one way to make sure. There was one thing he would never reveal, unless there was no other option. Pips took a few steps towards him and repeated the one question she had asked long ago and never again, "What happened to your eye?"

The look on Blink's face was one of a man asked to do the impossible. His eye pleaded with her to ask for something else, anything else, but she was resolute. With a pained expression he moved to one of the couches and sat down. He ran his hand back through his hair a few times, with his eye firmly fixed on his feet. Finally he looked expectantly up at her and she went to sit at his side.

It took a few more minutes for Blink to get the words out, "I, um, I usta live wit me parents. Me mom was an angel. Nevah hoit nuthin' in her live, evah. I'll nevah know how she got stuck wit me fadah. He was a drunk, 'e nevah woiked, an' 'e liked ta take 'is problems out on us, if ya know what I mean. Dere was dis one night, me muddah wasn't doin' too well. She was still hoitin' from da last time 'e want aftah 'er. At dinnah she spilled some watah, jist some stupid watah, an' he flipped out. He kept hittin' her an' hittin' her an' hittin' her."

The boy paused and forced the memory farther away, took a deep breath, and went on, "Somehow 'e got a hold of a bottle an' smashed da end off on da table. Dere was beer an' glass everywheah. He lifted it lifted it like 'e was gonna stab 'er. I couldn't jist sit dere an' watch 'im kill 'er Pips, I couldn't."

She took his hand to reassure him, suddenly regretting her request, but now that he had started she didn't think she could make him stop, "I grabbed 'is arm an' tried ta hold 'im, but I was too liddle an' he was too strong. He turned an' smashed da bottle inta me face, den shoved me inta da wall. Afta dat he left to go to da bar down da street. Me muddah was alive, but she was too beat up ta move. I ran outta da apartment an' down da street to da doctah's house. He came out an' I tried ta tell 'im ta come quick, dere wasn't much time until me fadah would be back, but 'e wouldn't let me say nuthin'. 'E took me inside an' fixed up me eye da best 'e could den put dis patch ovah it. When he was done I finally got ta tell 'im what had happened. He called da bulls an' when dey got dere we all went ta me house. It was alroidy too late by den. Me fadah was comin' back outta da buildin' an' da coppers took 'im, but it was too late. If we'd gotten dere just two minutes eoiler he wouldn't a killed 'er, just two minutes, but it was too late..."

He trailed off and Pips could feel tears standing in her eyes, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It was none of my business."

"No, it's alroight," He took a deep breath, "It feels bettah to git it offa me chest."

He gave her a wavery smiled and she frowned, "Are you sure?"

She took his face in her hands and made him look at her when he answered. Blink suddenly couldn't find his voice, it was like it had been lost in her eyes. He could only manage the barest nod.

Pips continued to try to find the truth in his eye and realized that the string for his eyepatch was right under her hands. She carefully wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it off.

Blink winced and turned his head away, "You don't wanna see dat."

She just quietly recaptured his face and turned it back to her with no resistance. He was afraid to look up at her. He didn't want to see the look of disgust he knew would be on her face. He heard a soft noise and his eyes flew to hers. He couldn't believe that it had ben a chuckle, but from the look on her face he know it had been, "Wha?"

Her finger traced from his eyebrow, down across the corner of his eye and stopped gently on his cheekbone. Another laugh escaped her and she shook her head, "Oh you poor stupid boy. Did you ever once bother to take the patch off and see how it was healing?"

"No, I don't need ta see a disfiguahin' scah ta know dat it's dere. An' what're you laughin' at anyway, dis ain't funny."

She was giggling when she stood up, grabbing both of his hands on the way, and dragging him after her, "Come here."

She pulled him to the vanity and made him face the mirror. He wouldn't have looked if it hadn't been for his nagging curiosity and her incessant pulling. When his eyes finally found his reflection he was shocked.

There was nothing there. Not a single mark was visible on his face. Even the tan outline of an eyepatch was faint because he was so winter pale. His legs smacked against the counter as he tried to get closet for a better look. His face was almost against the glass before he could see the faint scar running from eyebrow to cheekbone. It was almost impossible to see it with that eye open, but when he closed it the line across his eyelids was plainly visible.

He grinned like a manic and spun around to grab Pips up in a huge bear hug. When he let her go he quickly snatched the eyepatch out of her hand and put it back on. "What are you doing?"

"It's too bright in heah witout it." He smiled down at her so happily that she couldn't help smiling back. Neither of them could think of anything fitting to say to break the silence. They just continued to look at each other and slowly began to realize that they were only inches apart.

Blink slowly lowered his head and paused right before their lips touched. In that split second the door burst open with a 'whoop' and all of their friends came pouring in. The couple lept apart and were quickly engulfed in a crowd of joyously laughing and chattering newsies. All of them were going on about some bet.

One voice cut through the noise, "See Racetrack. I toldja, I toldja it would be Blink."

"Dere ain't no proof a dat Marble."

"Oh shut ya trap, everyone knows dat I won da bet, an' yous keepin' up your end here, tonight."

"Dat ain't faih."

"Shoa it is, now git ready, yous got a show ta put on."

* * *

The newsies were crammed into the front section of Irving hall anxiously awaiting the show. Marble had promised them something they would never forget. The tension was incredible. Every time the band started up they would jump to attention, waiting for the show of their lives, and every time it would be Medda doing an old favorite, stalling until Race got the courage to come onto the stage.

The conductor stood up and everyone held their breaths, and let them out in a stream of grumbles as the band played the opening chords of 'My Lovey Dovey Baby'. They went back to their conversations as the curtains opened. A gasp and a thump brought their attention back to the front.

Frick had fallen out of her chair and her brother, Marble, Pips and Blink were laughing hysterically, but they weren't looking at her, they were looking at the stage. Over twenty boys did a collective double take, leaving their jaws on the floor. Seconds later from those open mouths came hoots of laughter and raucous catcalls.

Up on the stage, flushed beet red, was Racetrack. He was wearing a black spangled dress stuffed in the front, a blond wig, ruby red lipstick and black heels (Watch Sgt. Bilko to see exactly what it looks like). The boys laughed even louder as he began to dance and lipsinc with Medda's voice coming from the side stage. No one could hear a single word of the song over the noise of the boys cheering him on.

On the last note the curtains snapped shut. It took a good twenty minutes for the room to calm down. Backstage Race fled from the laughter of the crew and locked himself his a dressing room. He had thrown the wig to the floor and was scrubbing furiously to get the make-up off of his face when he heard a knock at the door.

"Go away."

"Race come on, let me in." He refused to move for a minute then let out a resigned sigh and crossed the room to unlock the door. Pips slipped into the room and quickly shut out the disorganized noise of a vaudeville house's backstage again.

She kept a straight face, but when she spoke there was laughter in her voice, "Race you were good, have you ever considered being a show girl for a living?" He turned away from her sharply and continued to scrub at his face.

She laughed and walked up behind him, "Oh I was just kidding, calm down."

He turned to look at her and she cracked up because there was make-up smeared all over his face. Before she managed to regain control of herself he had finished washing his face and was struggling with the dress, "How do ya woik dis t'ing?"

"Come here, I'll get it for you." Pips unzipped the back of the dress, pausing twice to swallow a fit of giggles.

She collapsed onto a chair laughing when he shot behind the changing screen to put his clothes back on. Race waited until he was sure she had calmed down before he came back out. He expected her to make some comment, but instead he found her asleep in the chair. The stress from the past week, followed by a day of hard travel had finally taken its toll.

He didn't want to wake her up, but he wasn't about tho carry her home after the comments she had made about him. He took her shoulders and shook her gently. She made a small sound and brushed his hands away. He shook her harder and she groaned and twisted her body away. Race had a sudden evil inspiration. He leaned close to yell, but was cut off. It took him almost a full minute to sort out why.

Pips was awake, very much awake. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was kissing him full on the lips. He pulled away abruptly and straightened up. She stood just as quickly and their bodies pressed together.

Race took a step back and she followed him, "Pips what're ya doin'?"

His voice cracked when he spoke and she just laughed, "What does it look like?"

"But, but what about Blink?"

"What about Blink?"

"Da two a yous, you..." He stammered off at the amused look in her eyes and the shake of her head.

"There's nothing going on with us. I can hardly stand him and he doesn't like me much better."

"But,"

"Besides, last time I saw him he was sneaking off into a closet with some waitress or another. I don't want him Race, I want you."

She kissed him again and he hesitated for a minute before stepping back, "No, dis ain't roight. You an' Blink love each uddah, everyone knows dat."

She stepped right up to him again, "Why in the world would I love Kid? He's never done anything except insult me and play childish pranks. Racetrack you took me in, you gave me a home, you gave me a job, you were my friend through everything. You even spent all of your money on a ticket to New Jersey just to bring me back. I owe you everything. I really and truly love you Race."

She kissed him one more time. He couldn't think of a single excuse or argument to make hem pull away. Instead he found himself kissing her back. They lingered like that for a very long time and his arms smoothly snaked around her waist. Holding her seemed so natural, so right, he did know why he had never done it before.

They slowly pulled apart and Pips smiled up at him, "Come on, we're missing our welcome back party."

(How's that for predictable? HUH? Damn straight just sit there with your mouth hanging open thinking of every imaginable curse word to type at me. As fun as the cliche ending would have been somebody's (Treble) comment irked me incredibly and I was inspired to piss everyone off. And I'm not mad at you dear, although everyone else might be, I'm grateful you helped me break the cliche plot thing and you are an awesome author so it's all cool.

Anne Letoile I looked back on your review of chapter 5 and here it is, your first guess was right. And Stage, I hope you don't mind if I make Mistress of Twistles my official title, I think I've earned it. To everyone out there still struggling to find my missing detail and wondering what I named Pips' husband here it is, I DIDN'T NAME HIM, I went through the whole thing without once giving him a name because quite honestly I didn't like him and I was planning on killing him anyway. I'm running out of things to rant about so I guess that's all, this is it.)

THE END