Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and the patience in waiting for this chapter.  I have a full time job and I go to school full time, so it takes me forever and a day to finish a chapter.  But, never fear, I have not forsaken yee.  And, I wanted to add something that I forgot to put in the first chapter.  The main characters name is Tarah – pronounced like Tear-a.  Therefore, when I say Tar – it really sounds like Tear.  This will make more sense later on, though :D

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Newsies. Period. The original newsies (Spot, Jack, etc.) are property of Disney. I own both Tarah, her family and Stress. Anyone else is property of themselves.

Summary: She's been wandering around New York for the past three years, making no friends and leaving only countless customers behind. Will the arms of a Delancey or the embrace of a Conlon be enough to settle this stray?

 chapter two:

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Tarah finished washing the dirt off of her right forearm before holding her nose and diving back under the water.  At least all of the swimming newsboys couldn't shoot nasty looks at her and send catcalls her way if she was hidden under the slight waves.  Unfortunately, though, one can only stay under the water for a short period of time.  When the fresh air in her lungs was spent, Tarah reluctantly broke through the surface, praying that the others would give her a wide berth so that she could exit the river, grab her bag and head out on her way.

"Well, well.  What have we got here?"

Tarah turned her head sharply to the left. There, standing right in front of her on the edge of the docks, were three people: a shivering, smirking newsboy still in his wet underwear, a petite blonde with an amused expression on her face and a short boy wearing red suspenders and clutching some sort of walking stick in his right hand.

For a moment Tarah's brown eyes met the second boy's cyan ones.  They stared into each other's eyes, almost daring one another, before Tarah jerked her head away, brushing the wet strands out of her face.  Just my luck, she thought with a bitter smile as she tried to ignore to ignore the three impressive figures gazing down upon her, Spot Conlon and his cronies.  She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good one.  All she knew at that moment was that, though she had broken the intense gaze only moments before, the heat of Spot's eyes was still boring down on her.  Spot Conlon...

Everyone, whether you lived in Brooklyn or not, knew who Spot Conlon was.  The story of the three cops he took on by himself when he was only twelve was legend with any kid who lived on the streets.  In fact, Tarah secretly admired that about him -- even though he was short for a boy of sixteen, Spot made up for it with his stubborn attitude, sure shot slingshot and the fact that his every pore seemed to ooze confidence.  Of course, though, Tarah would never tell him that; Spot was also known for being stuck up, friendly with the ladies and extremely sure of himself.

Tarah's thoughts - and bath - were interrupted when the other boy, the one who had already tried, unsuccessfully, to kick her out of the river, opened his mouth.  "See, Spot.  There's some dame in our river."

Both Spot and Tarah turned to look at him while the blonde girl standing at Spot's side rolled her eyes and snickered.  "Nah, Blue, ya gotta be kidding.  I don't see no dame down there."

The half naked boy scowled and crossed his arms over his bare chest.  "Can it, Rae."

The girl, Rae, stopped snickering at once.  "What did you say?"  This should be interesting, Tarah thought to herself as she caught a glimpse of the tiger-like glint in Rae's blue eyes.

Spot, whose eyes had remained on Tarah down below, must have heard the dangerous note in Rae's voice because he turned to look at her.  "Rae.  Stop."

And, for one of the first times ever, Rae heeded his words and fell silent.

Now it was Blue's turn to snicker.  "Yeah, Rae.  Stop."

Before Rae could have the chance to retaliate, Spot turned to Blue.  "Blue, what the hell do you think you're doing?  Haven't you learned before not to mess with Rae?  She could probably kill you if she wanted too."

Tarah dared a glance over at the petite blonde, whose chest seemed to swell with pride at Spot's words.  What can this girl do?  But, since it was Spot Conlon that said it, Tarah was pretty sure that it was the truth -- and that glint in Rae's eye did look mighty dangerous before.

But not as dangerous as the livid face of Blue as he spat at Spot.  "That little bitch couldn't do anything to me -- she'd have to get her man to do something to me for her."

Rae looked coldly past Spot, who had wisely stood strong in between the two, and whispered, "Don't you dare try and bring 'Sippi into this.  I could take care of you anytime, any place, Albert."

The use of his real name was just too much for Blue.  He sputtered wildly before trying to get at Rae.  When he realized that Spot wasn't going to budge and he would have to get back at her later, Blue turned to his other sense of annoyance.  "Spot, what are we going to -- hey, wait a sec."  Blue used his hands as a shield against the sun as he scanned the nearby area, only pausing when he witnessed Tarah sauntering away, wringing the excess water from her long hair as she went.  "Get back here, girly."

Tarah ignored him and continued down the docks.  It had been amusing to her to watch their argument, but now it was time to go.

But Blue wasn't prepared to let her get away that easily.  As Spot and Rae stood on the dock, awed by her audacity to sneak away from them while they were fighting, Blue pushed past the pair and easily caught up with her. 

"I ain't done talking to you yet, you dirty little whore," he spat out as he grabbed Tarah's arm.

At that, Tarah snapped.  After all the hard years on the street she was used to being called names, especially a whore -- after all, why deny the truth?  No, it was the unwelcome advance on her person that caused her to loose her cool.  Nobody was allowed to touch her without her consent.

Tarah wrenched out of his tight grip, wheeled around to face him and, before the newsboy had a chance to react, she swung at his face, putting behind it all the strength that she could muster.

Blue, caught entirely unaware, dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, clutching the left side of his face as he fell.

Tarah stood over him and glared into his glazed over blue eyes.  "Don't ever touch me again," she hissed before spitting at his feet and stalking off.

But she didn't get very far before she was stopped again -- this time when Spot called out to her.  "Hey, wait a moment, there.  I don't know who you think you are, but I happen to be Spot Conlon, the leader of this territory.  What I say goes around here.  And I say that you can't just go around swimming in our docks, prancing around in your wet clothes and swinging at one of my boys."  Spot lifted his head royally and looked at Tarah like she was nothing more than the muck on his scuffed shoes.  With a swift motion he placed his walking stick under the strap of one of his suspenders and crossed his arms, daring her to talk back to him.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught a band of his boys preparing to exit to river in order to help him out, but he shook his head.  He would take care of this one without any help.  After all, she was just a girl, right?

Tarah grinned to herself as she turned around and began to walk back to where Rae was smirking over Blue, making sure he remained on the ground while Spot had words with the girl.  Tarah threw one more hate-filled glance in Blue's direction before batting her eyelashes at Spot.  "Really, Conlon?  Well," she began, now standing within an arm's reach of Spot, "since you are more than happy to tell me what exactly I can and can't do, I think I'll just go ahead and do the same.  In fact, I think you," she started, her grin growing wider, "need to cool off."

Spot looked at her quizzically before he understood the meaning of her words.  Well, actually, the shock of the semi-cool water better served to explain what she meant.

Tarah looked down into the water she in which she had just shoved one of the toughest newsies in New York.  "And, for your information, Conlon, I happen to know exactly who I am.  The name's Tarah.  Look me up if you ever happen to be in Manhattan."  With that Tarah winked and began to head back down the docks again.  This time, though, no one stopped her -- All the Brooklyn newsies in the river had swam over to help their drowning leader, while Rae stood doubled over, laughing over the sputtering Spot and the bruised Blue.