Disclaimers: Okay, *whew* I finally finished a thirteen page chapter ten. I honestly don't know what came over me! But, here ya go, next chapter…this should be a fun one. Most likely short, but one never knows with me. Oh, and by the way, I DON'T OWN THE NEWSIES! I JUST OWN MOIRA! So please don't sue me!

Chapter Eleven

They took down decorations on Boxing Day, another day when no one worked. Carefully, the tenants of the lodging house removed their handmade ornaments from the scraggly pine and handed them to Moira, who wrapped them in old newspaper and placed them in crates that were to go up to the attic.

"Say, fella's." Jack asked, as he lifted Les up to get the silver painted star on the top. "Whadda we doin' for New Year's Eve?"

"We'se havin' a party. Like we do ev'ry year. Where ya been, Kelly?" Specs asked, setting down some more crates.

"You comin?" Jack directed this question to Moira, who looked up surprised.

"Me?"

"No, da Moira sittin' next ta you. Of course you! You comin' or not?"

"Oh, well, I suppose I could." She stuttered, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Good, we'se glad ta hear it, ain't we boys?" Their leader asked, getting, once again, sounds of agreement. He smiled at her, receiving a smile in return as Moira thought about how it was such a nice invitation.

"Mother!" She called that night, her voice ringing through the apartment, as Kathryn came storming out of her room,

"What on Earth are you screaming for?"

"I wasn't screaming. I just wanted to give you some prior notice that I'll be attending a party on New Year's Eve." Her mother perked up, almost instantly.

"Really? Who's party, might I ask?" Moira had to think about how she was going to answer this one. She knew her mother would most likely not let her go if she told her it was at the LH, but she needed a lie.

"William Baxter." She said quickly.

"Oh, really? How lovely. Where is it?" Another lie was needed.

"He hasn't told me yet, but I'm sure everything will be…fine."

"Of course dear, I'm sure it will be."

"So I'm allowed to go?" Moira asked, hopefully.

"I don't see why not. Actually, this is a blessing, I've been invited to the city ball, and didn't think you would want to go. It's very nice that you're going to be out somewhere, enjoying yourself, instead of sitting at home feeling depressed." Kathryn patted her daughter's cheeks. "Despite what you may think, I don't wish for your unhappiness, Moira, dear."

"Thank you." She said quietly, feeling bad for lying. But still, the excitement of getting permission to party with the newsies covered that up. "You look very nice, where are you going?" She asked, watching her mother put on the black cloak with the beaver fur around the collar.

"A friend of mine invited me to dinner." She answered, pulling on her matching gloves, trimmed also in beaver fur. Moira nodded, wondering if she was actually going to be allowed to stay at home. "I should be home a bit late, so don't worry, just lock the door before you go to bed."

"Oh, okay." Moira agreed, quite happy with the way the conversation had turned out.

As soon as Kathryn was gone, Moira flew down the hall and got her nightgown on, then into the kitchen for hot chocolate, and then finally onto the couch with her favorite book, where she spent the rest of the night.

***

Moira could hear the party before she had even left her own house. There was music being played, people screaming and laughing, and every so often, she heard someone screaming off the roof, "IT'S THE END OF THE CENTURY!"

Jack opened the door when she got there, and swooped her into the house, "HAPPY NEW YEAR, MOIRA!" He had to yell over the noise.

"Who are all these people?" She asked. He leaned his ear down next to her mouth.

"WHAT?"

"WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?!" She screamed, Jack shrugged.

"JUST FRIENDS, I GUESS!" He yelled and took her hand. "C'MON, WE'LL GET YOU A DRINK!" Jack pulled her through a throng of people and into the common room, where there was a six person band playing incredibly loud, Irish dancing music. If it had been hard to hear in the foyer, it was absolutely impossible to even try to hear anything- at least from where she was standing. Everywhere she looked, there were people laughing, drinking, talking and dancing, the common room was abuzz with life. Somewhere between the foyer and the kitchen, Moira had lost Jack and now stood in the middle of the room, rather lost. Someone pushed into her by accident, knocking her backwards, sending her ricocheting off of party-goers and finally onto one of the battered sofa's next to-of all people- Kid Blink and Mush. The two deviants were sitting next to one another, taking swigs from a large, brown bottle.

"MOIRA!" Mush shouted, excited to see her. From this side of the room, it was just a little bit easier to hear. She waved, he offered her the bottle.

"I DON'T HAVE A GLASS!" She yelled, shrugging. Blink rolled his eye, then motioned for her to drink from the bottle as they had been doing, but she vehemently shook her head. There were some things she just wasn't ready for. Mush looked around, searching for his own glass, when he spotted one nearby that was half full. Shrugging, the sixteen year old down the liquid that was inside, and filled the now-empty glass with what he had been drinking, and passed it to Moira, who put it to her lips cautiously.

Immediately, she hated it. It tasted like nothing she had ever had and burned her throat all the way down. She coughed and sputtered, handing it back to Blink. "What is this?" She asked, yelling into his ear.

"We don't know. A man down the street makes it for us, but he won't ever tell us what's in it."

"That's probably because he doesn't want you to know that he uses paint thinner in his beverages!"

"You're probably right!" Blink told her, refilling the glass. Not thinking, Moira took another drink. The taste was still vile, but it wasn't quite as acrid as her taste buds remembered. And, after a few gulps, it actually tasted pretty good.

"May I have some more of that?" She asked Mush. He poured her another inch, but she persistently held out her glass. "I'm going to circulate, why don't you give me some more, I don't want to have to keep coming back." Mush, smuggling laughter, poured her a half of a glass. "Thank you boys!" She yelled, getting up from the couch and easing her way back into the crowd.

By quarter to twelve, the party was two hours beyond full swing. It was now completely insane. Moira hadn't been seen for awhile, except by Kid Blink and Mush, who sporadically supplied her with liquor.

"Hey!" David shouted, over the pounding drums of the band as they started another jig. Racetrack looked up from dealing out a game of poker. He acknowledged David with a nod, but didn't say anything. "Have you seen Moira?" He asked, surveying the room.

"Is dat her ovah dere?" Race pointed to the opposite corner of the room where Moira happened to be. David got up and cautiously made his way over to where she was, sitting on a table, talking to three men. She smiled when she saw him, her glassy eyes lighting up.

"Hiya Davey!" She cried, with the excitement of a child. David glanced at the men she'd been talking to, some factory worker who hardly looked like gentlemen.

"Hi Moira. Are you feeling okay?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck. She giggled.

"Of course! It's the end of the century! Aren't you excited?" Before he could answer, she leaped off of the table and into his arms. Luckily, he caught her, and she laughed again. "Good catch!" David coughed, she reeked with the smell of liquor.

"What have you been drinking?" He asked, setting her feet on the ground.

"I believe the question is what haven't I been drinking. You newsies have really good wine!" She exclaimed, slurring her words together and taking another gulp from her glass.

"Moira, that isn't wine."

"Oh?"

"It's rum!" He told her, after smelling it. Her eyes widened.

"OOOOH! Is that what rum tastes like?"

"I'm not sure, but I think that maybe you've had enough."

"Maybe…" Moira got a far away look in her eye, and after a minute, began to laugh again. "Wait…is this booze?" She asked, stupidly, finally making the connection.

"Yeah!"

"Oh…huh! I've never had booze before." Moira said, still giddy. David rolled his eyes,

"I can tell!" One of Moira's 'gentlemen friends' nudged him hard in the ribs.

"Hey! Leave her alone! We was talkin' to her."

"Look, I'm her friend and I'm trying to help her out here. Do you mind?" He asked, not wanting to deal with these men.

"HEY EVERYONE! IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" Someone stood on a table and shouted. Everyone turned toward the clock, which read that there was about a minute left until 1900. As the minute ticked away, people began the countdown. "FIVE…FOUR…THREE…TWO…ONE…HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The house erupted into a thundering of applause as the people everywhere hugged and kissed one another. Moira looked around for a second, and before anyone could stop her from doing otherwise, grabbed a hold of David and planted a long, loving kiss on his lips.

"Happy New Year, Davey." She grinned, pulling away from a shocked looking David. Moira left him there, and stumbled over to the couch where Kid Blink was still sitting, just looking slightly more dazed. "BLINKY! POUR ME ANOTHER!" She shouted, holding out her glass.

"No, I t'ink you'se had enough, Moira." He refused, shaking his head. She gritted her teeth.

"No, I think I want another." Still, Blink shook his head and refused to give up the bottle. Moira then did something drastic, she fought the bottle away from him, held it to her lips, and took a few big gulps. Handing it back to him, she giggled and left the common room.

Stepping into the foyer, she stumbled, caught onto something, and tried to straighten herself out. Unfortunately, her legs had decided they would refuse to cooperate with the signals her brain was sending, and she ended up falling down. A random passer-by helped her up.

"Are you okay, love?" She asked, with concern. Moira nodded, feeling anything but, and decided that she would make her way outside before the nausea she was fighting over-rode her system.

Stumbling into the little alley between the LH and the cigar shop next door, Moira tried to breathe deeply, wishing away the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Wishing didn't seem to work though, as she held on to her stomach in pain and vomited into a nearby metal trash can.

"Oh, God." She moaned, feeling quite disgusting. At the same time, the whole situation was hilariously funny. She thought about the lie that she had told her mother, and the city ball, and how she had thought that the booze was wine, and kissing David…it was all just so hilarious. She began to laugh, and while she laughed, she threw up, and then started to cry, like she always did when she got sick.

When Jack entered the alley to deposit some trash, he found Moira, huddled together in the back, laughing and crying and throwing up.

"Oh my God! Moira?" He asked, running back to her. She looked up and smiled at him.

"Hiya, Jacky." She greeted cheerily and began laughing harder.

"What da hell happened ta you?" He asked, worried.

"I just drank…paint thinner." Moira began to giggle nonsensically again.

"Wait here." Jack doubled back into the house, while Moira struggled to her feet and clung to the wall for support. Still, she couldn't stop laughing, even when Jack returned, carrying a glass of water. "Drink dis." He demanded, pressing it into her hands.

"What is it?"

"Just drink it!"

"Is this that rum?" She asked, licking her lips. "Cause that was gooood rum." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Wouja just drink it? It'll make ya feel bettah."

"I don't drink things when I don't know what's in them." Moira explained, trying to steady her vision.

"Really? You was chuggin' down whatevah Kid Blink was givin' ya."

"I was, wasn't I?" She laughed again as Jack put an arm around her trying to steady her while she stumbled around.

"Careful, here, just lean on me." He told her, getting sick of the way she kept laughing whenever he touched her waist.

"Y'know, I've never had rum before."

"Ya hadda buncha people fooled about dat, Moira." Jack paused and looked down at her. "What happened, anyway?"

"I just had some booze. With the newsies." She paused for a second and thought about that. "Booze. Newsies." Another long pause. "Boozies." At this, Moira began to laugh so hard that she had tears running down her cheeks. "Boozies! What a wonderful word! Isn't it funny, Jacky boy?"

"I t'ink it's time ya went home, Moira." He told her, though chuckling at how astounded she was by the word 'boozies.'

"Oooh, I'll be so much trouble." She said, still laughing.

"Well, if ya need anyt'ing, you can just come back ovah." Jack told her, half-walking, half-carrying Moira across the street. When they got there, he found that she was all but asleep on his shoulder. Sighing, he pulled open the door and considered leaving her in the lobby of the building. His conscience took over, however, and he walked her up to her apartment, fished her key out of the purse, and went to unlock the door when he stopped. What if her mother was home? What would she say if she saw Jack dragging Moira home at twelve thirty, drunk as a sailor? Deciding he could lie if he had to, he turned the key and opened the door. Luckily, the house was silent, and he nudged Moira awake.

"Hey, Moira. Where do you sleep?" He whispered, just incase Mrs. Bailey was asleep. Not opening her eyes, Moira pointed to the room at the end of the hall. Nodding, Jack took her there, and more or less pushed her on to her bed, took her shoes off for her, and pulled the covers around her. Just as he was about to leave,

"Happy New Year, Jacky-boy." Moira muttered in her sleep. Jack smiled and left the apartment.

"Moira Bailey, what am I gonna do wid you?" He asked the window, from the street. At the moment, he didn't know, but it wasn't a problem he needed solved right at the moment. Because, in his eyes, Moira was no longer a problem, but a solution. A currently drunk, giddy, tired, solution, but a solution none the less.