Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies, just Moira and the plot. Don't know why you'd want to, but if you feel the dire need to borrow her, just ask sil vous plait! Merci!

Chapter Three

"'Ey! Moira!" Jack Kelly's overly loud voice resounded through the house. Moira rolled her eyes.

"What?" She yelled back. Her mother would surely die if she knew how her daughter had to act around the newsies. She had to be loud, wasn't able to sit properly when they all crammed onto the couch, a whole lot of other things a lady wasn't supposed to do. Between the things she said and the things she wanted to say…well, Kathryn just wouldn't have been impressed.

She'd been working there for almost a two weeks, and it had proved to be quite boring. After the office had been organized, Moira realized that one of her only real duties would be to balance the books and whatnot…but it wasn't the end of the month yet, so there really wasn't anything for her to do. Instead of sitting around being bored, she brought a stack of novels that she'd been wanting to read. In fact, she was trying to get through one at the moment, but Jack Kelly obviously had some pressing issue that needed her immediate attention.

Moira made no move from her relaxed position (chair leaning back, feet on the desk) as he sauntered into the office. "Can I help you with something, Kelly?"

"Whacha reading'?" She put the book down and showed him the cover.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"Actually, I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Where's ya granfadda?"

"How would I know that, Jack? He goes out and does what he does, and then he comes home." She looked at the clock. "Why aren't you out 'carrying the banner' or whatever it is that you newsies call it?" He smiled.

"No, you're right. We carry da banner. But I gots done early today."

"Lucky me."

"Nah, sorry sweedhaht. I'se gonna go see Sarah. Catch ya lata!" He left without another word.

"Not if I can help it." Moira muttered under her breath. She was getting to a point in her life where hating Jack Kelly not only worked for her, but seemed to be essential to her state of mental stability. She'd honestly tried to put up with him, but it didn't work. He was too…something. Something that bothered her, she just didn't know what it was yet. Poor Sarah.

She knew that Sarah was David's sister, and that she and Jack had some kind of 'thing' going on. Moira could only offer sympathy to a girl she'd never met and wonder in amazement how she dealt with a nuisance like Jack. Maybe he's a good kisser, or something. She couldn't believe she'd just thought something like that. Did it matter if he was a good kisser or not? Of course not, let Sarah worry about that. In an attempt to purge her mind of the thought, she buried her nose in her book once more.

"Who are you reading today?" A friendly, familiar voice asked. Moira smiled, but didn't look up.

"W.M. Thackray."

"Sounds interesting." David mused.

"I would certainly hope so." She commented, marking her place and standing to see eye to eye with her new friend. "You're back early too! What on earth is going on?"

"I'm not sure, I'd gone through seventy by noon."

"I'm impressed." Moira glanced around the counter. "Where's Les?" She asked, worried. She'd taken an immediate liking to the little boy from the minute she'd met him on her second day of work.

"Oh, Race took him to the track today. He told me he's trying to find his own personal selling spot."

"He's adorable." She was glad that he'd decided to go with Racetrack. She didn't mind him. He was actually an all right individual, if one could get past his gambling addiction and love of cigars.

"So, Moira, what are your plans for the afternoon?" She held up the book,

"Just The Newcomers and I. What are you going to do?"

"I was going to try to find Jack. Any ideas where he might be?" David asked as Moira made a face.

"He went to see Sarah. God bless her."

"What do you have against Jack?" He asked. She shrugged.

"He's just so…I don't know. For one thing he's so loud. And over confident. And…loud." She trailed off lamely.

"You don't like him because he's loud? That doesn't seem very fair."

"Well, it isn't, I suppose. But there's something about him that just bothers me. I can't put my finger on it.

"Why don't you give him a chance? You may be pleasantly surprised." David gave her a wink and turned from the counter.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to work."

"Oh. Why did you stop in then?"

"Just to say hello." He told her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. She smiled.

"Hello."

"Hello." David gave her another smile, "I'll see you later, Moira."

"Goodbye!" She called, before hearing the door slam.

Moira read for the rest of the afternoon, on the verge of being bored out of her mind. Some time around four, the little bell above the door jingled and she looked up.

"Dere she is!" Jack exclaimed upon seeing her. She sighed, but hid her disappointment when she noticed his hand attached to that of a pretty girl with long brown hair and big, brown eyes. Sarah. She automatically thought. "Are ya busy, Moira?" He asked as they approached the desk.

"Not terribly. Can I help you with something?" She asked, remembering what David had said about giving Jack a chance.

"Have ya seen Davey today?" Jack drummed his fingers on the counter as he spoke.

"Yes, I have. He stopped in just after one." Moira looked from Jack to Sarah, realizing he probably wasn't going to introduce them, she extended a hand. "You must be Sarah."

"Yes, I am." The two girls shook hands and Jack seemed to remember who she was.

"Oh, Sarah. Dis is Moira, Kloppman's granddautah."

"Oh, of course. David's told me all about you." Sarah said, smiling. She turned to Jack. "If David's not here, we should go find him."

"Good idea." Jack agreed.

"I'm just going to go get the book he left here." She turned back to Moira. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too." Moira returned, and watched Jack follow her with his eyes all the way upstairs.

"Ain't she somtin?"

"Yes, she's something."

"What about you?" He asked, suddenly. Moira didn't understand the question.

"What about me?"

"Are you…Y'know, involved with anyone?"

"I can't see how that's any of your business."

"Just curious. So, is dere anyone?"

"I don't know. It's a complex situation."

"Try me." He countered.

"No, thank you."

"At least tell me his name."

"Jonathan." She answered quietly, not wishing to disclose anymore information.

"I see. And wad happened? You leave Jonathan hahtbroken in Boston?"

"No, actually. He's at school in London." Moira was getting irritated with his interrogation.

"So, wad you'se tellin' me is dat you'se worried dat he's gonna find somebody else in London?" Jack pressed on. She moved her bangs out of her eyes.

"As I've said before, Jack, this really isn't any of your business."

"Well, I wouldn't worry." He began gently, covering her hand with his. "I'd imagine you'd look pretty good from a t'ousand miles away." At this, Moira pulled her hand away from his, the tips of her ears burning as he laughed at his own joke.

"Honestly, can't you find something better to do with your life than to make mine miserable?" She asked, infuriated. He opened his overly-loud mouth to reply, but Sarah popped her pretty head into the office.

"Ready to go?" She asked, smiling at Jack, who nodded before turning back to the counter.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, Moira."

She said nothing, but waited until the door was fully shut before she yelled, "I CERTAINLY HOPE NOT!" The sound of her shriek echoed off of the walls of the empty lodging house. She sat down, still fuming over what Jack had said. He'd just about called her ugly! The nerve of that boy! The sheer nerve! Moira didn't care what David had said- she hated Jack Kelly- and that was that.

***

August 29, 1899

Dear Diary,

I'm not sure how much more of Jack Kelly I can possibly bear. Having this much rage cannot be good for anyone. I've tried to like him, or at least tolerate him, but it is of absolutely no use! He has to be one of the rudest people I've ever met in my life, with no respect for human feelings (especially mine) and no disregard for anyone but himself. He insults me on a daily basis, I am constantly the punch line of his jokes…I just don't know how much I can stand. Please God make him go away. Please? I'll do anything.

Moira

Delaney read the entry a few times. She felt sorry for Moira. Poor girl, in the city with her weird mother, getting harassed by Jack Kelly on a daily basis. Beside her, Keaton was fast asleep, snoring like a pig. She rolled her eyes. Her husband had been only slightly interested in her findings, he'd even helped lug the trunk upstairs, while she took the sketchbooks and diary. But aside from that, he really didn't care. In his eyes, this was their house now, and the past should stay in the past. Delaney refused to believe this. Discovering the past was how she made her living.

Moira Bailey wrote faithfully in her diary everyday. Her life was mildly entertaining- her entries about Jack were just plain funny- but because of the lack of details given, Delaney wasn't finding anything useful out. Still, she reminded herself, she'd only been there for two weeks.

"There has to be something more." She said quietly to herself, looking, once again into the little box that contained the locket, the charm bracelet, and the lock of brown hair. She was certain if she kept reading that she would find something that unlocked the mystery behind each of the items. Delaney was most curious about the lock of hair. It was just so strange. So deliciously random. It was the kind of thing she, as a historian, thrived on.

She looked at the time: eleven thirty. Luckily, it was Friday. Still, the next day she would have to start unpacking, and that took energy. "Well, Moira. I guess I'll just have to wait to see about that box." Delaney told the book, closing it and turning off the light next to her side of the bed. She knew, she just knew that the answers she needed were in that diary. She'd just have to keep reading.