Title: The Mayor's Daughter

Author: Leah (swingin_newsy@yahoo.com, newsies_cheesecake@yahoo.com)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I own no one in this with he exception of Samantha, Anna, Anne, The Mayor, Dice, Mouse, Doll, Benji, Cap, Salty, the King Brothers and her cousin, aunt and uncle. Everyone else belongs to Disney. So ha! now you can't sue me! I own this plot and I claim rights to this story! Any MST must be sent to me so I can read it. I could always use a laugh!
Wait! Dice technically belongs to my best friend, Tuck!

Summary: Samantha Marie Palmer is tormented by dreams of past events. Then, she is forced to marry a man more evil then words. She isn't aloud to hang out with her friends, either. When she runs away, can a certain Brooklynite help? (fluffy)

Beta Credit to: Morning Dew

Chapter 1: Irving Hall

"What?" shouted Samantha Marie Palmer, turning as her pursuer, Jonathan King, tugged her arm.

"No one runs out on me bruddah! No one!" he shouted back, looking down at her maliciously.

"Fine! I'm no one," she retorted, wrenching her arm free, and running as fast as she could down the road.

He, unfortunately, was much faster than Samantha. So Jonathan caught up with her, and shoved her into an alley. At a glance, the road was deserted. Not a good thing.

"Now youse gonna get it, goil!" he said, bringing a balled fist back, and hitting her hard in the cheek.

She screamed as she reeled backward from the force of the blow. Jonathan looked as if he was about to wind up again, but stopped. He simply looked at her, lying there on the floor.

"I don't wanna hit ya. Rob'll get mad at me," he said, looking rather shy. "Let me take ya back home."

"Never!" she shrieked. 'Like I'll go home by my own will,' she thought.

"Dat's da las' time I try ta be nice ta you!" he yelled, advancing on her. He picked her up off the floor. Then he hit her again, but in the stomach instead.

 She fell to her knees, as she saw a figure in the opening.

"Ya shouldn't hit a goil, Johnny. I tought you was s'posed ta be a gen'leman," the figure said.

"Go home, Conlon! This ain't your territory!" Jonathan yelled, looking back.

Samantha gave the boy a pleading look that Jonathan, unfortunately, saw. Looking back at her, he said, "Don't you even t'ink about it brat!"

As he was saying this, the boy had run up behind him noiselessly. So when Jonathan turned around, there he was, just a few inches shorter than himself.

"Ya shouldn't hit a goil," he repeated. Then, in a blink of an eye, he took out his cane and hit Jonathan in the lower region. Then he whacked him in the head.

"He's gonna be out fer a bit," the boy said. Then stuck his cane back into his suspenders, and spit on Jonathan. "Are you okay?" he asked, helping Samantha to her feet. "I'm Spot." She was stunned. "I'll take ya home."

"No!" she shouted, having finally found her tongue.

"Okay," Spot said, nervously. "Wheah should I take ya, den?"

"You don't need to take me anywhere!" she said, feeling rather helpless. But then she heard a loud bang not to far off and said, "On second thought, Irving Hall!" She looked worried.

Spot was a bit mistified by what she'd said. 'Goils! Can't make up dere minds!' he thought. "Okay. I was on me way in dat direction anyways," he said, grabbing her hand and walking briskly, with Samantha just a step behind, looking rather disgruntled at being led by the hand down the road. 'This is poifect!' Spot thought. 'I was havin' a nice time, jus' makin my way to the Manhattan Lodgin' House to play some poker wit' Race an' Jack, and I HAD to be da hero an' save one o' da stupidest goils in New Yawk! I'm an idiot! From now on, I'm jus' gonna walk by. I'll be happier dat way!'

When they reached Irving Hall the doors were blocked by a flock of people exiting the building. They couldn't get in that way.

"Heah! Let's go in da back," he said, pulling her around the corner.

They opened the door and there was Medda.

Immediately, Samantha started bawling her eyes out. Spot happily let go of her, and she ran right into Medda's arms.

"Oh, Medda!" she shrieked. "I c-can't take it anymore!" she hiccoughed. This took Spot by surprise. 'It's happened before?' he thought. 'You'd think she'd be smart enough to preven' it from happnin'

"Shhh. It's alright, baby. What happened?" she asked lightly patting her head.

After a few seconds of silence, Spot said, "I'll ansah dat. Dis guy was hittin' her. Jonathan King. You know 'im?" he asked Medda.

"Oh my!" she said. " How dare he! He's too much bigger and stronger…he could've killed you!" she finished, with a worried look, and holding Samantha tighter.

"W'a's goin' on heah, Medda?" Racetrack said, entering the room. "Sam!" he shouted as he realized who the girl was. "Are you okay?" he asked striding over.

Sam let go of Medda, and looked at Race. She tried to wipe away some tears. "Race!" she said miserably.

"Sam! What 'appened! Ya got a huge bruise on ya cheek!" he said. Then he saw Spot. "Spot! You didn't..." he started, but Sam cut him off.

"No! Race...if it weren't for Spot, I'd probably be dead," she said, looking at Spot. Tears started flowing from her eyes, and she fell to her knees.

Everyone rushed over to her. That's when Jack, Mush, Blink, Skittery and Boots walked in.

"What's wrong Sam? You ain't never cried this hard before!" they all heard Race say.

"What!" Jack blurted out. "Sammy!" Then Jack, Blink and Mush rushed over, just as Sam flung her arms around Race's neck. Boots was glued to the spot in total shock. Skittery just turned out and walked away, indifferent. Blink and Mush felt as if their hearts were being removed.

Spot stood up then, and backed away a little, not knowing what to do. 'Why did Skitts leave?' Spot thought, mystified.

'Who is dis goil?' he thought. 'And how does all a dem know her?' He looked at her. She was so small, her medium length brown hair all in a mess, sobbing on Race's shoulder. She was so helpless.

"Where did he hit you dear?" Medda asked. Sam didn't answer.

"In da stomach an' da cheek," Spot said.

"Oh Sam," said Race. "Who was it? I'll kill 'im!"

"Well, he ain't 'xactly moving right now," Spot said.

"We heah for ya, Sam," Jack said, pushing Race out of the way, and giving her a big hug. He was full of all different emotions. He was angry, sad and worried all at once. He felt the need to hurt whoever it was who hurt his 'little sister.'

Boots, having finally gotten over the shock, now came over and joined the group of surrounding people.

Spot was just standing in the corner, still, quiet, and very nervous. 'How could dis happen?' he thought. He was more confused than anybody, and he thought he knew more about it than anybody. But Medda knew. Medda knew and she was about ready to hire a hit man to kill the King brothers, she was that angry.

"You can't stay here, Sam," Medda said. "I wish you could, but they'll find you here."

"Yeah. We can't take ya to da lodgin' house heah. Dey found ya las' time," said Mush.

'How many times has dis happened?' Spot thought.

"Then where can I go Race? Jack?" she said wiping her eyes, and letting go of Jack.

Race looked to his right, and there was Spot, nervous and resigned. He stood up and walked over to him. Mush and Blink created what they called a 'Sammy Sandwich.' They were always thinking alike, Race, Blink, Mush and Sam. It was like their brains were connected.

"Spot," Race whispered. "Sam is like a sistah ta me. Can you guys in Brooklyn take care of her?" he said anxiously. "Please?" Spot thought for a second. He looked over at the boys, all kneeling on the floor with worried looks on their faces. Everyone except Sam was looking at him, anxiously awaiting his reply. "Please," Race whispered again. Race was more worried than anybody in the room. He was itching to take her away from New York and get her away from everything that tortured her, especially the Kings Brothers.

"Well, she can't lodge wit da boys, but I got me own place, and she can stay wit me deah," Spot said. 'Why?' he thought. 'Why am I lettin' myself get roped inta this? An' now I can't play poker! An' I was feelin' lucky Tanight, too! I prob'ly would'a won, too.' He was inwardly moping by this time.

All of the boys let out their held breath. Race let out a massive sigh of relief.

"Tanks, Spot," Jack said. "Don't know what we'd do widdout ya."