A/N; Short sweet but opens the doors. Disclaimer in first chapter but I'll say it again, I DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT, own Newsies. I own Marit Logan, Mr. Logan, Mrs. Logan, Maria, Sarah and maybe a few more to come. Don't sue, thank you and have a nice night.


He's in Manhattan.

Marit heard a knock on the door, "Wake up dear" can a cheery voice. It was Maria, their maid. She slowly opened the wooden door and walked in briskly, straight toward the curtains. She flung them open, allowing the sunlight to pour in. Marit moaned and rolled over.
"Get up dear, a young lad is here to see you. He says his name be Andrew," Maria said in her strong Irish accent.
"Thank you," Marit moaned as she sat up. She stagger over to her dresser and pulled out a white long sleeve shirt and a pair of cut off suspenders. She slipped on the suspenders and then the shirt, which she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. She sat down and brushed her honey hair and pulled it into a low ponytail.
She stood up and looked in the mirror, As good as I can get for now, aye?
She walked out of her room and down the hallway.
"Marit, your breakfast is ready," Maria said.
"Oh, no thank ya. Me and Andrew'll pick somethin' up on da way," Mari said as she grabbed Andrew and ran out of the door.
"Mornin' to ya," Andrew said as they began to walk toward downtown.
"Mornin' to youse too," Marit said as she looked at him and grinned.
The rest of the trip was silent, well at least between them. The noisy streets of downtown Bronx was enough to make up for their lack of talking.
They approached the building where Andrew had brought Marit the day before to buy the afternoon addition. Tons of boys were already there, chatting and yelling about miscellaneous things that seemed to interest them greatly.
"Heya, Andy." a black haired boy said to Andrew as he approached him.
"Heya Tav, oh yea... Tav this heah is Marit Logan, she is tha newest newsie ta add to da bunch. Marit, this heah is me friend Tav, he's da leada of Bronx."
Tav grinned widely and stuck out his right hand while he took off his hat with the other, "Pleasha ta meet ya, beautiful," he said taking her hand and kissing it.
"Pleasha ta meet youse too," Marit giggled.
"Well, we'se betta gets our papes and get ta woik, aye Marit?" Andrew said grabbing Marit's arm and leading her to the booth.
"Hund'ed papes," Andrew said handing the man a coin and moving out of the way so Marit could speak to him.
"Fifty papes," she said handing the man the money and taking her papes.
She followed Andrew and sat down on the curb to examine the paper. She unfolded one of her papers and began to skim the headlines..... but it wasn't the huge headline on the front that caught her eye.. it was the smaller one at the bottom that did.
"Andrew....... what's dis about Manhattan newsies goin' on strike?" Marit asked pointing to the article.
"Oh they's goin' on strike, they's gots demands and shit... want all da boroughs ta join in too, dunno if Tav's joinin' in or not... Spot Conlon and all da Brooklyn's have done joined... wateva Spot does, Tav does, so I says we'se will be in it soona or lata." Andrew said as he turned a page, "They'se a picha on page t'ree."
Marit raised and eyebrow and turned to page three; she skimmed the picture and gasped.
"Oh my god........" she said, tears filling her eyes to the point she couldn't even hold them in.
"What?" Andrew asked as she scooted closer to her.
"its Taylor!" she screamed, "he's in Manhattan!!!!"
Marit jumped up and threw her papes down.
"Sell me papes fo' me, keep da money, I'se don't give a damn... I'm goin' ta Manhattan. Don't tell a DAMN person where's me at, aight? Tell NO ONE. I'se don't cares if da coppers ask ya, youse don't know me. Ok?" she said as she grabbed the cigarette from Andrew, kissed him on the cheek and ran off down the street.
"I will never figure her out..." Andrew mumbled as he looked down at the picture. Sure enough, on the right hand side of the picture was Taylor Logan.
I hope she knows her way around Manhattan... and I hope Spot isn't anywhere in Manhattan..... he thought to himself.