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 2: The Mayor's Daughter.

"Youse bettah get goin'. If ya don't, dey'll find ya heah," said Mush, helping Sam up.

She gave him as big a hug as a girl her size can, and a kiss on the cheek. "You be careful, okay? I don' know what I'd do if I lost ya," whispered Mush.

'This is so mushy, it makes me sick,' Spot thought.

"I'll come by tamarrah, Sam. I promise. Sweet dreams," Jack said, giving her a hug and a kiss, and practically engulfing her.

'Give me a break,' Spot thought, feeling rather annoyed. 'Maybe next time he'll ask if he can come to my place!'

"Don't cry. It kills me," whispered Blink in his hug. "I love ya."

"I won't cry just because you said not to, Blinky," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

'Blinky?' Spot mouthed. 'There's nothing I say or think about that, it's so repulsive,' he thought, feeling the urge to barf.

"If anyone gives ya problems, jus' tell me an' I'll soak 'im for ya," Boots said, straight into her ear since he's one of the only Newsies who can.

"What it's already been done?" Sam said.

"Then I'll soak 'im again!" he replied, earning a lick on the nose by Sam.

"Gotcha!" she giggled.

"Ev'ry time..." he said, wiping his nose and laughing a bit.

'Ew,' Spot thought at a loss for anything better to think. His expression was priceless. It was distorted as if there was a really disgusting smell directly under his nose with a particularly repulsive looking bit of trash.

Finally, Race. "It prob'ly ain't nuttin' youse already hoid, but I love ya. Ya like me little sistah. Be careful, sweet dreams, and remembah always stay neah Spot. I'll see ya tamorrah. I love ya," he repeated, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

'I feel like I'm gonna barf,' Spot thought as Race walked over to him, holding Sam at his side.

"Now youse bettah take good care'a her," he said softly.

Spot looked at Sam and thought, 'I can't believe I'm doin' dis!' Instead he said, rather awkwardly, "Yer goin' soft Race. But don't worry 'bout it."

Race smiled and said, "Be good, Sammy. And remembah what I told ya." He gave her one last kiss goodbye, and then Spot and Sam set out for Brooklyn, Spot thinking 'Gag. Gag. Gagging.'

Sam was a bit hesitant to go with Spot. He didn't seem like he really wanted her there. Besides, she was afraid of him, the same way she's afraid of everything else.

About three minutes after they left, Sam fell, barely able to stand. She'd been fighting the urge to fall ever since they set out. Spot pretended not to notice until he realized she wasn't following him.

He turned around and asked, "You okay?"

"Ow," she said. 'This is just great,' she thought. 'Perfect. Now he's gonna think I'm totally helpless.' "I'm fine," she sighed. Then she tried to stand, but she passed out as soon as she got to her feet.

"Great." Spot said when he caught her. "Just great. First I have to miss a poker game for her and now I have to carry her home! I'm gonna have to sleep on the floor, too! I already hate her," he said walking down the street. Everyone he passed could tell he was mad, and avoided him completely as he mumbled about stupid little rich girls.

He started to think about her, when an old thought popped into his head.

Flashback

"Hey, Spot!" yelled Race down the street.

"Hiya, Race. Where ya been? I been waitin' for ya. I can't wait forevah!" Spot replied when Race had caught up with him. "So how many papes d'ya sell taday?

"Uh…'round forty. You?" Race replied.

"Ooh, 'bout eighty, I t'ink," Spot replied, vaguely remembering the number.

"Yeah. Dat headline was nuttin'. 'Sides, I don't wanna sell sumt'in dat could make Sam look bad. An' i didn' feel like readin' da article," Race had said.

"Who's Sam?" he'd asked.

"Samantha's da Mayah's daughtah. She's a friend a mine," Race had said, taking out a paper, and pointing to a shot of Sam, Medda, Jack and himself.

"I didn't see dat earliah," Spot said, taking the paper out of his hands.

"It's pretty hidden," was his only reply as they walked down to Sheepshead Bay.

End Flashback

'Well,' he thought, mystified. "Dat's odd. Who'd soak da Mayah's daughtah? An' why?'

~*~

Finally, he reached Brooklyn. The still noisy lodging house was right next to his place, but instead of going straight to his small 'house' next door, he went inside.

"Hey, Benji!" he yelled to a 10-year-old boy standing in the lobby. "Can ya tell all of 'em ta quiet down before I come in?"

"Okay, Spot," he said, looking at the bundle in his arms. "Boys! Boys!" Benji shouted when he went in the bedroom. "Spot's comin'!" That quieted them down considerably.

Then, Spot walked in and observed the boys for a second. "Boys. I'se need ya'll ta be quiet tonight. I ain't gonna be sellin' any papes tamorrah..." Spot started to say.

"Wow! Boss! Why ain't ya sellin'? You ain't nevah missed a woik day before!" said the seventeen-year-old Dice.

"Cuz! I ha's ta watch a goil. See?" he said, looking at the sleeping girl in his arms.

"Woohoo!" someone in the back said.

Spot just rolled his eyes and said "Nevah in a million years! Catch ya latah boys."

"Bye, Spot!" said various Newsies.

Spot walked out and bumped right into Salty.

"Watch it, Salty!" he said, walking back to his small home next door.