Author's Note: Wow, at least I was gone for most of the time fanfiction.net
was screwed up. No reviews at all, sigh, why did the review thingy
have to mess up too? Well, anyways, Thankyou to Jazz, Gypsy, E
Maureen, Draco's Secret Lover, Spark, and Ashley, who did review. And my
undying gratitude to Spark for giving me her comments twice over when I
accidentally deleted them. Gracious.
This is the last chapter, the only part left in this story to go is
the epilogue. There are a lot more stories which I wrote before this one,
which take place after Mirror Image. Farewell all, 'til we meet
again!
Ciara Lewis
Chapter 11:
The glint in Spot's eyes showed the danger Fists was currently in. Fists however, was too pre-occupied to notice. He looked over his shoulder at Michaela, who leapt away from the window as it shattered into pieces, a marble rolling on the ground, and then back at Spot. A question formed in his eyes, and he hesitated, unsure of which was the true Brooklyn leader.
Spot grew irritated rather quickly at not being paid attention to. He tapped Fists on the shoulder with his cane, and when the bully turned his head, punched him hard in the stomach. Fists doubled over, holding his stomach, then, using his head, barreled into Spot, knocking him to the ground.
Fists pounced on Spot, taking advantage of his momentary lead. He pummeled the floor again and again, Spot rolling from side to side to avoid his fists.
"I just have one question." Fists said, connecting with Spot's left shoulder.
"And what.would that be?" Spot asked, clenching his teeth from the pain and kicking upwards with his foot, throwing his opponent off him. Spot leapt to his feet in a split second, fists raised. Fists did likewise, nodding his head to Michaela. "Who's yer double?"
Spot glanced at the back of the room, distracted for the moment. "You!"
Michaela was pushing the remains of the jagged glass out of the window, preparing to escape. She jumped, startled, and stared at Spot, "Michael?" She whispered faintly, too quietly to be heard, studying Spot's face.
Spot jerked sharply, barely avoiding yet another of Fists' attempts. His attention returned to his enemy, saving Michaela for later.
A sharp pain spread from the middle of his back suddenly, and Spot whirled around to face a group of Queens newsies. Spot swung his head around at Fists, who wiped the blood from his face, grinning triumphantly.
Spot ground his teeth and took a deep breath, trying to be logical. Unable to think of an alternate solution, he raised his clenched hands, willing to take on the whole of Queens. A few of them snickered, mocking his attempts.
Michaela peeked around Fists and her shoulders dropped. She looked wistfully out the window, then back at her brother, *If this is truly Michael, I can't let him go killing himself, much as his pride warrants it.*
Michaela brushed past the Queens leader, moving to stand beside Spot. Several of the newsies were caught rather off guard, and stared at the two. Spot glanced at Michaela and clenched his jaw. "I don't need youse, of all people, helpin' me. I can handle dis on my own."
Michaela looked him in the eyes, and said calmly, "It'll take more den dat ta get rid a me, Michael."
Spot lowered his fists, staring at her, shaken. Michaela nodded slowly, answering the silent question. A slow grin spread across Spot's face, and he turned back to the Queens newsies, raising his hands yet again.
"Heya, Fists, ready ta go back ta yer own territory? Cause I shoah don't remembah Brooklyn being part of Queens, and it shoah ain't gonna become part today."
Fists nodded to his newsies, and they began to converge upon the twins. He looked at Spot, his eyes wavering for a minute between him and Michaela. "Give it up, Conlon. Even you and yer little double ain't gonna take on the whole of Queens. You can't expect ta win."
"No, but we can." A new voice replied, coming from behind Fists. Jack Kelly stepped up next to Spot, his eyes flicking questioningly over Michaela, and the rest of the Manhattan newsies poured into the room. Brooklyn newsies were popping up like daisies around the room, appearing from thin air.
Brooklyn and Manhattan vs. Queens.
Spot straightened and tilted his head cockily at the Queens leader, giving him one of his trademark smirks. "You were sayin'?"
Fists angrily lunged for Spot, who sidestepped, causing the huge newsie to land on his hands and knees. He was up again quickly, but Spot had gotten around him and leapt onto his back once he was standing. Fists dropped to the floor and Spot whispered something into his ear. The room was deadly silent, all three groups of newsies staring at the pair on the ground. A couple were glancing at Michaela, uneasily.
Spot jumped off of Fists a moment later, and the beaten Queens leader stood up and headed towards the door, but Michaela stopped him, clearing her throat and holding out her hand.
He glared at her fiercely, but at look from Spot, grumblingly reached into his pocket and handed her the slingshot. Then he waved his hand and left the Lodging House, with his gang following in his wake.
***
Spot turned to Jack, breathing heavily, "I thought I told youse ta stay in Manhattan." His gaze flickered to the Brooklyn messenger. Bronny fidgeted, looking guilty.
Jack grinned, "When was da last time I listened ta youse? I can't seem ta remembah."
Spot smiled crookedly, running a hand through his hair. He glanced hesitantly at Michaela, who looked equally uncomfortable.
Jack's glance darted between the two, then landed on the Brooklyn newsies, hovering close by, ready to pounce on Michaela at a word from their leader.
Spot, however, didn't seem to notice. He stared at Michaela, eye level with her. Then he reached up slowly and gently lifted off her hat. Golden hair tumbled down out of the hat and settled around her waist. Icy blue eyes met his, twinkling, and she lifted her arms towards him.
Spot Conlon, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, who had never 'hugged' anyone in all of newsie history, wrapped her in his arms, amidst the astonished faces of the newsies of Brooklyn and Manhattan.
THE END
A.N. I still have the epilogue to go, so there's still a little more! REVIEW, and I'm sure the epilogue will be posted sooner!
Chapter 11:
The glint in Spot's eyes showed the danger Fists was currently in. Fists however, was too pre-occupied to notice. He looked over his shoulder at Michaela, who leapt away from the window as it shattered into pieces, a marble rolling on the ground, and then back at Spot. A question formed in his eyes, and he hesitated, unsure of which was the true Brooklyn leader.
Spot grew irritated rather quickly at not being paid attention to. He tapped Fists on the shoulder with his cane, and when the bully turned his head, punched him hard in the stomach. Fists doubled over, holding his stomach, then, using his head, barreled into Spot, knocking him to the ground.
Fists pounced on Spot, taking advantage of his momentary lead. He pummeled the floor again and again, Spot rolling from side to side to avoid his fists.
"I just have one question." Fists said, connecting with Spot's left shoulder.
"And what.would that be?" Spot asked, clenching his teeth from the pain and kicking upwards with his foot, throwing his opponent off him. Spot leapt to his feet in a split second, fists raised. Fists did likewise, nodding his head to Michaela. "Who's yer double?"
Spot glanced at the back of the room, distracted for the moment. "You!"
Michaela was pushing the remains of the jagged glass out of the window, preparing to escape. She jumped, startled, and stared at Spot, "Michael?" She whispered faintly, too quietly to be heard, studying Spot's face.
Spot jerked sharply, barely avoiding yet another of Fists' attempts. His attention returned to his enemy, saving Michaela for later.
A sharp pain spread from the middle of his back suddenly, and Spot whirled around to face a group of Queens newsies. Spot swung his head around at Fists, who wiped the blood from his face, grinning triumphantly.
Spot ground his teeth and took a deep breath, trying to be logical. Unable to think of an alternate solution, he raised his clenched hands, willing to take on the whole of Queens. A few of them snickered, mocking his attempts.
Michaela peeked around Fists and her shoulders dropped. She looked wistfully out the window, then back at her brother, *If this is truly Michael, I can't let him go killing himself, much as his pride warrants it.*
Michaela brushed past the Queens leader, moving to stand beside Spot. Several of the newsies were caught rather off guard, and stared at the two. Spot glanced at Michaela and clenched his jaw. "I don't need youse, of all people, helpin' me. I can handle dis on my own."
Michaela looked him in the eyes, and said calmly, "It'll take more den dat ta get rid a me, Michael."
Spot lowered his fists, staring at her, shaken. Michaela nodded slowly, answering the silent question. A slow grin spread across Spot's face, and he turned back to the Queens newsies, raising his hands yet again.
"Heya, Fists, ready ta go back ta yer own territory? Cause I shoah don't remembah Brooklyn being part of Queens, and it shoah ain't gonna become part today."
Fists nodded to his newsies, and they began to converge upon the twins. He looked at Spot, his eyes wavering for a minute between him and Michaela. "Give it up, Conlon. Even you and yer little double ain't gonna take on the whole of Queens. You can't expect ta win."
"No, but we can." A new voice replied, coming from behind Fists. Jack Kelly stepped up next to Spot, his eyes flicking questioningly over Michaela, and the rest of the Manhattan newsies poured into the room. Brooklyn newsies were popping up like daisies around the room, appearing from thin air.
Brooklyn and Manhattan vs. Queens.
Spot straightened and tilted his head cockily at the Queens leader, giving him one of his trademark smirks. "You were sayin'?"
Fists angrily lunged for Spot, who sidestepped, causing the huge newsie to land on his hands and knees. He was up again quickly, but Spot had gotten around him and leapt onto his back once he was standing. Fists dropped to the floor and Spot whispered something into his ear. The room was deadly silent, all three groups of newsies staring at the pair on the ground. A couple were glancing at Michaela, uneasily.
Spot jumped off of Fists a moment later, and the beaten Queens leader stood up and headed towards the door, but Michaela stopped him, clearing her throat and holding out her hand.
He glared at her fiercely, but at look from Spot, grumblingly reached into his pocket and handed her the slingshot. Then he waved his hand and left the Lodging House, with his gang following in his wake.
***
Spot turned to Jack, breathing heavily, "I thought I told youse ta stay in Manhattan." His gaze flickered to the Brooklyn messenger. Bronny fidgeted, looking guilty.
Jack grinned, "When was da last time I listened ta youse? I can't seem ta remembah."
Spot smiled crookedly, running a hand through his hair. He glanced hesitantly at Michaela, who looked equally uncomfortable.
Jack's glance darted between the two, then landed on the Brooklyn newsies, hovering close by, ready to pounce on Michaela at a word from their leader.
Spot, however, didn't seem to notice. He stared at Michaela, eye level with her. Then he reached up slowly and gently lifted off her hat. Golden hair tumbled down out of the hat and settled around her waist. Icy blue eyes met his, twinkling, and she lifted her arms towards him.
Spot Conlon, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, who had never 'hugged' anyone in all of newsie history, wrapped her in his arms, amidst the astonished faces of the newsies of Brooklyn and Manhattan.
THE END
A.N. I still have the epilogue to go, so there's still a little more! REVIEW, and I'm sure the epilogue will be posted sooner!
