12-12-02 – Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Spot sells in Brooklyn, Race & Kid meet some people at the track.

Disclaimers: Honestly, I don't own them, just between the two of us though… (If I DID own them, I would not be here writing stories!) (Don't you hate people who try to make up fun disclaimers?)

Rating: Right now? PG, later PG- 13 and even later probably R (I can't resist it!)

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! I LOVE YOU GUYS! Nothing makes me want to keep writing like getting reviews- every one makes me happier! Yes, Spot is very conceited, but I figured he would be (he seems like he is- and we never even see him on his own turf- except the beginning). Basically the idea is he thinks he owns the city (which he does), so he's not used to people rejecting him.

Spot woke up moaning, like every morning, call him whatever you want besides a morning person. He had his own room (a/n: come on, necessary for spot to get ANY action- and you gotta leave that door open just in case!), but he could hear the newsies outside slowly waking up for the day. Stumbling out of bed he grabbed a towel and went into the bathroom with the other boys, splashing and playing around. Unlike Manhattan, the Brooklyn house actually had a place for girls downstairs, though sometimes they slept upstairs and vice versa to, ah, keep the beds warm.

"Alright yous newsies, we gots to sell more, dem Manhattan boys is makin us look like losers, deys sellin mo papes den us and Midtown together!" Spot proclaimed over the clatter.

"But dey gots more boys and more area!" shouted Dips from the sink.

"Hey, has dat evah stopped us before?" retorted Ditch.

"Yeah Brooklyn!" yelled one of the little newsies.

"Brooklyn!!!" the newsies cried as they poured out onto the streets.

As they walked towards the distribution center, Dips caught up with Spot. "Heya, Spot- I been wantin ta ask ya somethin."

"Yeah, what is it?" Spot was careful not to sound impatient, as dealing with his newsies problems was part of his job.

"Well, ya see, der's dis goil. And she wants me ta get a real job, says carryin da banners for da little kids. I'm eighteen Spot. Yous only sixteen, yous da leader of da bunch and you move 80 more papes den me every day. I dunno man, she's pretty convincin, and she says I could live in her parents place a little while and everythin."

"Hey- you wanna stop sellin papes- you stop sellin papes, but don't let no goil tell ya what ta do, she don't got nothin on you." Spot vehemently replied. "Don't ever let no goil control ya."

The intense look in his eyes was enough to shut Dips up for a little bit. "Ok, thanks Spot."

As they got to the distribution center, Spot walked up to the front of the line, cutting in and started reading the newspaper. Not as inclined to make enemies of the distributors like Manhattan, he simply stated he wanted the usual and threw a few coins down.

Heading off to sell, he thought about what Dips had said to him earlier. It's da same problem all ova. Dem boys let der goils control em. Dey all get pushed around and made a fool out of, and den she just moves on when she gets bored. Dese boys are too good ta be treated like dat. Dey work hord and dey make money, den spend it on stuff for da goils. I'm never gonna let no goil use me like dat.

He sold all his papers and stopped by Lucy's place again. When he got back to the docks, he was informed of a poker game in Manhattan (a/n: ok YOU think of a better way to get all our favorite newsies in one place, and WE'LL stop writing about poker games, but for now- it works) that night.

Meanwhile- in Manhattan

A little boy is standing outside the Sheepshead Races. Racetrack Higgins and Kid Blink walk up to the track.

"So I'sa told this goil "bros ova hos" and I think she got mad, cause she smacked me and left. But I'se not gonna let no goil come between me and Mush," Race said to Kid, who nodded silently.

"Please spare some change mistas?" coughed a little boy from the side of the path. Inspecting him more closely, Race saw that he never ate very much, his limbs were lean and his face shallow. His eyes pleaded, making Race melt and feel sorry for him, realizing how good this kid was, he decided to talk to him.

"Hey- Kid, hold up, what do we gots here?" Race stopped and crouched down and looked at the kid. "Where ya from?"

"I don't got no home!" The boy stated without doubt in his voice.

"Well, ya makin lots a money doin dis?" Kid asked doubtfully.

"Well, me and me sista can usually make enough for da two of us to have a little food, den we usually just sleeps in any alley we can find," the boy replied.

"I'm Race, and dis here's Kid Blink, we's Manhattan newsies. You say you gots a sista too? You got some real talent kid, I think you'd make a great newsie. Go find ya sista, if she's half as good as you, you two can sell wit us today and den decide if ya wanna come back wit us." The kid eyed him thoughtfully for a minute, then scampered off without saying a word.

Race just shrugged at Kid and they walked in, placing a few bets and selling their papes. Not a minute later, the same little boy walks up dragging his sister behind. She was a little taller than him, not much more filled out. She looked to be not much older than 12. Her bright green eyes peered out from a little face, flitting up and down their bodies as if she was taking measurements. She eyed the two boys skeptically for a minute before she stuck out her hand.

"I'm Kit and dis is me brudda, Port," said the girl.

"Well, we is pleased to meet yo acquaintances, dis is Race and I myself is de infamous Kid Blink," he reached out to take her hand and kiss it, but she pulled it away.

"Look, I don't care whether yous famous or not, don't try nuthin funny. We don't need yous, we been doin just fine for a few weeks now." As she spoke, she stood taller and she appeared older with every word she said. Her face hardened and she grabbed her brother's hand, ready to walk away at any moment.

"How old are you two anyways?" Race quickly asked to calm her down as she huffed after her mini speech.

"I'm 10 and she's 15," Port said with authority, "She's really brave."

"I'm sure she is." Race replied, and the 4 of them (Kid still sulking from his rejection) walked into the racetrack shouting out headlines.

Sorry about the slow plot line, but I wanna make this long (I LIKE long stories), and I don't wanna get to my plot too fast or I'll have nothing to write about later. I'm pretty busy right now, which is why these chapters are so short, but I will write more, and I'll try to write often. I'm going out of town this weekend and a lot over break, but I'll keep posting when I can- that is IF I keep getting reviews. So far- you guys have been GREAT- it's AWESOME getting feedback (sorry, but it's EXCITING to get reviews! Ok, maybe I just have no life, but still- I get excited).

I still need characters (I'm having one hell of a time trying to find names for these people- I had like all "I" names Ditch, Kit, Dips- so I tried to mix it up a little, and honestly I think it's just getting… bad. Also I'm trying to combine this with some English exercises that I have to do, which may be why some of the description sounds odd- but hopefully it's good! Anybody else have a pinche of a time with spell check on these words?