DISCLAIMER: These characters do NOT belong to me unfortunately. I tried to kidnap them from Disney and was unsuccessful. Go figure. However, Runner and Mallory are MINE, and so is Josephine, Aunt Patricia, and Daisy! Muahahaha! So take that, Mickey!! OoOogles! I almost forgot Becca and Snap. They's mine too!! BleH! : ) Ah, the list just goes on, there's Mr. Carter too of course. And Vixen...Charles Hutton's mine too. Same applies to Flame and Falcon, Father Romanik, Father Aesop, and Mother Smith.

A.N. We're Breaking 150!!!!!!!!!!! We're Breaking 150!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!! W00t w00t! I think there's something wrong with fanfiction.net because it's counting my reviews wrong, or is counting them too slow. But we're on 150!!! WOOOOHOOOOO!!! THANKS SOOO MUCH!!! YaaaaY, lot's of reviews!!! So keeping true to my promise, here's a Wednesday update!!! Awww, I just watched Gladiator for the millionth time and it still makes me cry. Russel Crowe's soooo cUte! Heehee. Welperz, hope ya like chapter 16!

~Snuggles: w00t w00t! I hope that update comes soon! I want to read more of "Visitors from the Past"-and that second one you started writing. I really liked that one too. Hahaha. More Spot/Jack sessions! You're good at this, Snugs!

~Apollonia: Haha, Jack will be in this chapter. : ) And as for whether Samantha and crew were telling the truth, they were. Runner will actually get mad at her in this chapter because of that.

~Rhapsody: It certainly does seem as if Samantha is telling lies, doesn't it? *thinks* Unfortunately, they're not. Aww, you'll console him? Heehee. I'm sure he wouldn't mind that, though Mallory might. : )

~Skittles: Heya Skits, hope your sister's doing better. My dad had surgery a few weeks ago and I wasn't able to update for a while; I know how it is. Anywho, thanks for the review! W00t w00t!

~geometrygal: Alrite, two reviews in one shot! *dances on her chair* You'll like this chapter mucho; there's more Runner/Mallory cuteness in it! : ) Enjoy!

~racesgurl52787: Hahaha, a chat with Father Conlon, eh? That'd be funny! He'd probably just stare at you. I think Charles is too scared to do anything with Becca with girls like you on the loose. ^_^ Thanks for reviewing!

~cjd: Charade...hmm, I like that word. I think I might use it in some later chapter. Well, as I tell everyone else, I LoVe new reviewers! Thanks so much for reviewing; I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. : )

~Angel: I can't believe Spot took Snap in either! Grrr. I don't know if the Brooklyn newsies will beat her up, but I know Spot is going to Hate her to death, lol. The "line", as we so lovingly refer to it as, will come about in Chapter 20 probably. Alotta things have to happen before then. Ya wanna be a character in this, huh? Email me your character's profile and I'll see what I can finagle. : )

~Shortie: d00d, you're weird. Hahaha. But who isn't weird these days, right? Poor Everybody! *cries* Besides Snap of course. She's just being her evil self again. And as for Becca...haha. She'll cheer up eventually and her past is even revealed soon!

~Trek: Snap got told, lol! Glad you took pleasure in that! : ) Yea, poor Jack kicked her sorry behind out. She broke his heart one too many times. But anywho, I know I'M jealous of Runner and Mallory! Hahaha. "Lily, it's just a story..." *chases after her muses with a rolled up newspaper. "I know THAT!"

~Deanie: Heehee, Mallory and Runner are like, the only functional couple in this whole story but can't be together because of mean ol' Father Conlon. *sigh* I was just thinking about who Jack would end up and I have no idea! Same goes for Spot! LoL! Ah well, I'll have to figure it out. Thanks for the review!

~Southern Spell: Keep writing I shall. Here's another update! Hope ya like it.

*Just A Little Bet*

~*~*~*~*~ Jack pounded a fist on one of the stall doors of his lodging house's wash room, a line of his newsies standing behind him in sour moods. "Mush, would youse unlock the door already?! Ya been in there fer an hour!" A voice from inside made a mumbling reply, followed by a gagging sound.

Race stepped out from the crowd and approached Jack with a worried face. "What the hell is he doin' in there?"

"This, my friend," answered Jack as he turned around to address the rest of his Manhattan boys, "is what I'se call ya foist hangover." Blink threw back his head in laughter and applauded at the announcement. He had been trying to get Mush to drink for months now! The younger boy always preferred pop or simply water instead.

"Mush!" It was now Race's turn to yell though the door. "Some of us heah need tah make a deposit in the toilet bank, if ya know what I mean!" The room exploded into vociferous guffaw; even Jack couldn't resist taking the joke to heart.

"Heya fellahs, uh........." Bumlets' nodded his head to the open doorway of the bunkroom, his eyes fixated on the slender girl who stood there, unamused and seemingly annoyed by something. A series of low whistles naturally broke out, so that one would think the newsies had never found themselves in the company of a young lady until now, but Jack waved his hands at them and forced them to discontinue the catcalling.

The Manhattan leader closed the distance between him and the girl in steady strides, his grey eyes unreadable. "So Vixen, what brings ya tah the bettah side of the bridge?" He knew she was a Brooklynite, a former playmate of Spot's, and he was fully expecting the girl to be here on the sole basis of delivering a message.

"Ya goily Snap moved in and it's been nothin' but sheer torture. Youse have no idea how much I wish she would just die! It was bad enough wid her floitin' wid Spot day by day like the lil' slut she is. Now they friggin' argue every 10 minutes and it's drivin' me insane! Ya know what I mean? I just, hate 'er!"

"That makes two of us then," he laughed. The stall door behind him creaked open and out walked a fatigued Mush, his face soaked with sweat and his legs wobbling with no coordination. He would have collapsed to the floor, but Race and Blink managed to catch him then, patting their friend on the back for enjoying one of his first manly experiences.

Vixen arched an eyebrow at the display. "I see things is the same no mattah where ya are. Lemme guess, foist hangover?" Jack nodded, quite impressed. "Well I can't stand another night in Brooklyn. Spot's a bastard and I aint got enough profane woids in me vocabulary tah describe Snappy. Ya think I could hitch a stay heah?"

Mush was just made aware of the girl's presence and wiped the small drops of vomit from his lips in a quick hand movement. Blink punched his arm playfully with another laugh. "She's a real lookah, aint she Mush?"

Jack appreciated the fact that the girl had at least asked to be lodged rather than demand she be given a bed. But she looked like the troublemaker type, just as Snap had been. Would he regret taking her in? "Shoah, so long as ya keep the peace, huh?"

"I aint got no problem wid that," she said. "That's what I came heah for. Peace and quiet."

* * * * *

"Sam, I can't believe you told her about that!" Runner kicked a locker in anger and turned to face the girl. "It's none of her business what happened between me and my father a year ago!"

"Obviously your father doesn't think so," Samantha retorted. "I'm only looking out for the both of you. Until you learn how to stand up to him, it's the least I can do."

Runner clenched his jaw at the insult. "I don't need your input on whether I need to stand up to him or not."

"I'm giving it to you in any case. He had no right to embarrass you like that! When are you going to tell him off, Lucas? When are you going to stop letting him control your life?"

"Stay out of it, okay? I don't need your help." He leaned back against the lockers with a smile. "Look, there she comes."

Samantha rolled her eyes. When was he going to get his head out of the clouds and face the reality of the situation? No matter how much Mallory liked him and vice versa, it wasn't going to change the fact that Father Conlon would forbid the relationship.

Mallory slowed her steps when she saw the blonde girl aside Runner. She still wasn't sure about Samantha, though it had nothing to do with the merit of the lunchtime story she had shared concerning the high priest and his fanatical policies. Mallory actually had asked a few of the Junior acquaintances she had made during orientation about the event; it seemed as if the whole student body knew of that fateful day when Father Conlon blew up on his son in public. "Good Morning, Lucas...and Samantha," she said as cheerfully as her current temperament permitted. Being candid with herself, she couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that was steadily crawling through her subconscious.

"Heya cutie," Runner said before pulling her into a quick hug. "How was your day?"

"It was good," she replied, feeling nervous under Samantha's watchful gaze.

The boy caught her mistrust. "Uh, Sami? You think you can..."

"Yea, yea yea." Sighing at the sight of the potential couple, she walked off into the crowds of students, most probably on her way to gossip some more with Alessandra and Jane.

Runner laughed after the girl and shook his head. He wished he could hate her, but she only spoke the truth. And as annoying as she could be at times, she was still the closest thing to a sister he'd ever have. He looked down at Mallory. "You hear about the Valentine's Dance?"

She smiled. "Of course! That's all the girls in my class have been talking about! How they want a certain someone to ask them, what dresses they'll wear, how they'll wear their hair."

"I'm sure some lucky guy has already asked you then." He nodded his head at two of his friends who were passing by and slapped hands with a third.

"No, not really." Feeling herself blush, she looked down at her shoes and let the redness fade away. Was he going to ask her out? She'd been asked out before, but it had never been this nerve-wrecking! Her heart was practically palpitating, ready to jump out of her chest into his hands.

"Did you want to go with anyone in particular?" he asked, looking for something to distract him from confronting her one on one. "I mean, were you hoping someone in particular would ask you?"

Mallory made the mistake of looking into his eyes then and lost any coherency she might have had. "I, uh..., I uh...I wanted to go with... you, but I'd rather meet your parents first."

"What's the purpose in that?"

"I'd just like to meet them first."

"I'm sure they'll both be fine with it, Mallory," he lied. "Besides, I didn't mean the school dance. This club in Queens is supposed to be hosting the biggest dance yet, and I thought I'd only take you to the best. So how about it?"

The girl wasn't so quick to answer. It was her heart's desire to say yes, yet would that be wise? If Father Conlon went on another rampage and decided to suspend her from St. John's, her dreams of attending school would be shattered. Worse of all, she'd be torn away from Runner! "I'd love to go. I'm not sure if it's a rational thing to do, however."

"I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear that last sentence," he laughed. "So tomorrow around six in the evening, okay? See you then, Mallory!"

"Lucas!" But he wouldn't turn around for fear that she would reject him. "That boy will be the death of me!"

* * * * *

"That's not fair!" Becca exclaimed. "I don't want to go to the dance with Charles! I don't even know him that well. I'd sooner label him a complete stranger than a friend. If I could go with Race though..."

Webster shook his head. "Nonsense. You'll go with Charles and have more fun than you've ever had."

"I highly doubt that, mister."

The man laughed. After all these years, Becca still deemed it necessary to address him so properly. One would think that after the girl had been with him for a fourth of her life, she'd feel eased enough to talk with him as she would a father. But no. He supposed she was still mourning her past. "You don't even know this Race fellow from beans. How can you be so sure of him?"

"Because he cares about me; he said so. And I know that he's telling the truth." Her heart was still wavering over the matter, but something was telling her she was right in saying that. Race did care for her.

"I've known Charles and his family a year now," was Webster's reply. "They're kind and well-mannered people and I know Charles will be a good escort for you."

Becca had a feeling that she wasn't being listened to. She didn't want to attend the dance with Charles! How many times would she have to declare it? "Why can't you let Race go? I know it's only for the Sheepshead staff, but can't you make an exception? He's a wonderful guy, and I'm sure you'd like him just as much as you do Charles."

Even so, Webster was still not convinced. The girl was like a daughter to him; ever since he had first taken her in she had always been so. He took it upon himself to shelter her, feed her, employ her with a job she loved, and protect her-the last charge not being fulfilled if he let her run off with some newsboy off the streets.

"Becca, it's only one day that I'm asking you to do this. One day out of the whole year. Is that too much?"

When he put it like that, she knew she couldn't refuse his invitation. "So he can't simply come along?"

"I'm not even the one hosting the party," he explained. "The Track owners across New York are joining together; it's more of a banquet. As a manager, I'm only allowed two guests. You and Charles. I'm sorry but that's the way it is, dear." He gave her an apologetic look and then excused himself to go tend to a customer.

Becca plopped down onto a stack of hay with a whine. What was she going to tell Race now? He'd surely hate her for not being strong enough to dissuade Webster from making her go to the dance with Charles. And with Valentine's Day mere hours away...She let out a cry and kicked the dirt at her feet. Life was rather unfair at times.

* * * * *

Spot studied the hand of cards before him with a resolute demeanor, determined to not give in to the excitement he felt presently. He was up against one of Brooklyn's best card players, a kid called Scapegoat, and the pile of money before the two was a staggering amount that exceeded seventeen dollars and ninety two cents. Originally there had been eight players, but when the stakes rose to great and dizzying heights, the boys involved had excused themselves from the game disappointed.

"How 'bout we'se just both contribute tah the prize tah bring the baby up tah twenty, eh?" Scapegoat counted one dollar and four cents from his pocket and threw it onto the table's center. When Spot mirrored his actions, he sat on the edge of his seat and rubbed his cards between his fingertips. "Okay, Spot. Let's make this quick." He laid his cards one by one in front of him, revealing three of a kind.

Spot smirked. He leaned his chair back on two legs and yawned, as if the game had been a piece of cake. Then, arranging his cards into a semi-circle formation so that the numbers and suits were visible to everyone, he fanned himself and shrugged. "I win again, Scape." He had a straight.

The Brooklyn newsies applauded their leader; even Scapegoat joined in the recognition. Meanwhile, Spot was collecting his winnings and basking in the glory when loud footsteps thumped down the stairs accompanied by a nagging voice.

"These damn stairs," said the borough's newest grouch, Snap. "Why don't ya use that money and fix this shithole up? What kinda leadah are youse anyways? Subjectin' ya newsies to this kinda crap? Those stairs is about tah fall down!"

"When I want ya opinion, I'll give it tah youse," Spot replied. The girl had been a resident in his lodging house for a little over twenty-four hours and was already managing to crawl under his skin with the utmost annoyance. Paying no heed of his warning to her to not bother him in any way seen fit, she barked at him whenever given the chance and devised countless ways to debase the leader in front of his admirers. She was a pestilence to the Brooklynites, a festering plague that threatened to disrupt their harmony and union.

She laughed sarcastically and gave him a nasty look. "Ya think youse can control everyone on ya turf, huh? Ya nothin' but a damn manipulator, Conlon! Ya lil' boys heah is nothin' but puppets on strings!"

Scapegoat jumped to his feet. "You mess with Spot, you mess with Brooklyn. I've had about enough of your shit as I can handle. If I was into soaking girls, I'd bust all your teeth out right now!" He beat a clenched fist into his open hand and glared at her. Several other boys backed him up, yelling insults at the girl and threatening her to make one last move so that they might strike her.

"That's enough!" It wasn't a yell; Spot barely raised his voice. But everyone knew that a command, whether whispered or shouted, was a command nonetheless and they quieted down instantly. He studied Snap with curiosity. Why was she going to the extreme of making herself susceptible to hatred just to piss him off so much? All he knew was that the task was tiring. Every debate involving two opposing arguments was theirs for the taking and they would scream and curse at each other for hours at a time. Was it really worth it, though? "Snap, I don't know what the hell is ya problem but I'se this close tah chainin' ya up tah a pole and lettin' me boys beat the crap outta youse."

"Of coise. Let 'em do the doity woik while the lil' prince sits back and relaxes on his throne of crates! What'sa mattah? Aint cut out tah do it yaself?"

He smirked. "That aint it at all, sweetheart. I'se afraid that if I was the one doin' it, I'd end up killin youse in thoity seconds flat."

At first she thought he was merely joking, yet when his expression never changed she grew worried, and the silence that followed where there should have been laughter pierced her heart with fear. She looked into the faces of the boys nearby, a little too nearby if she had anything to say about it. It was as if they were all conspiring against her at the moment. She needed to get out of that room as soon as possible. However, she wouldn't leave with a lack of dignity, for just like Spot she had her pride to consider. She turned her gaze back to him, flicked him off, and spit onto the floor of the main room. Then wordlessly, she turned on her heels and proceeded to show herself out.

One didn't have to be seated at the poker table to see Spot's neck veins tighten with rage. Suddenly, he scooted back his chair and advanced towards the girl ready to attack her. "Snap, stop walkin' and face me!" he yelled at her backside.

"Why?" she asked as she slowly did as he asked. "Because everyone has tah obey ya worshipfulness? Ya so full of it, Spot! Ya think ya so big and bad but ya nothin' but a lousy street rat!"

"That aint what youse were sayin' the other night," he said, loud enough for the others to hear this time. He figured he might as well let them in on the inner story. She gasped and raised her hand to slap him but he caught it in midair before her fingers could reach his face and pulled her forward so that she fell onto her knees. "Aww, youse aint so tough now when ya meet someone who aint gunna take ya crap, are ya? Ya know what, Snappy? I kind like ya in this position...ya know, on ya knees and all."

The Brooklyn newsies snickered in mocking tones and Spot let them. Snap had crossed the borders of respect and she deserved all that was coming to her. She snatched her hand away and kept her eyes focused on the floor.

"Heya Snap, youse that fiery in bed?"

"Conlon, ya mind if I borrow 'er fah a night?"

"Nah, ya don't want that trash. Ya bettah off screwin' a doity whore."

Spot sneered at the remarks, watching Snap's face the whole time, reveling in the fact that the tables were finally turning and that she was now the one receiving the heavy blows. She stumbled to her feet and addressed them all. "Youse can all go tah fuckin' hell fer all I'se care!" As she slammed open the front doors and disappeared down the docks, the newsies were overwhelmed by their success, and even though Spot joined them in the celebration, he couldn't help but feel some kind of remorse for having wounded the girl so deeply. He quickly brushed away the feeling.

* * * * * !!!!!!!ATTENTION!!!!!!! WOoOoOoO!! At the end of another chapter, you all know what THAT means!!!! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! We're on 150, goils!!! This is GREAT! Let's keep up the good work!!! I have a little GAME for this ROUND of REVIEW-MANIA. Let's set up a little, VOTE, hmm? VOTE VOTE VOTE!!! Here's the topic for this time around. "Who's your FAVORITE character and WHY?!" Muahaha! The results will be featured in a future chapter, maybe in the 17th or 18th. So send in your VOTE today!!! Thank Ye! Love ya All!