DISCLAIMER: Basically, to put it in simple dictation, all the characters in Disney's Newsies belong to Disney. *SuRpRiSe* All the characters NOT in Disney's Newsies belong to me, with the exception of Angel-she belongs to herself. ^_^ And Rhapsody owns herself as well.

A.N. Yowzerz, so many reviews!! Goodness gracious. ^_^ Uhm...*sigh* I think I'm going to wait until the final chapter to make shout-outs to all the people who've reviewed since Chapter 25-or whatever chapter it was in which I stopped doing shout-outs. Ya know I love ya all though, right? Heehee, it's just that I want to get this story up and ready for y'all to read. W00t w00t! 4 More chapters; can you imagine?! And no sequel...*starts to worry* I guess I should be writing longer chapters from now on. Anywho, enough of my rambling, here's another dose of...

~*Just A Little Bet*~

~*~*~*~*~ Snap stopped dead in her tracks when the surroundings of the area through which Spot was leading her became much too familiar a burden. She had only agreed to accompany the Brooklyn leader on his trek through the borough for the sake of their would-be friendship; believing they had exhausted their verbal warfare back at the bookstore, she had no intentions to pursue enemy relations with him. If anything, she wanted all to be mended. It annoyed her that she would otherwise be endlessly labeled as something she had only become for the sake of her younger siblings...which reminded her, she needed to see about Marysol and Chelsea sometime soon and make sure they had settled in all right. There was no room in her mind for doubts concerning their successful escape from that wretched dump she had once called home; for now, she'd assume they were safe in the monastery.

Casting the matter aside momentarily, she continued walking aside Spot with her defenses drawn up, though not against him. He was actually being rather cordial with her presently, which probably should have made her even more suspicious, but she had always believed no one to be *that* apathetic. She didn't see Spot as the cold-blooded, heartless bastard so many talked him up to be. Sure, he could be a jackass sometimes, and he wasn't the emotional type who would get ridiculously sappy on you, but he wasn't the spawn of the devil either. She laughed at the idea.

Spot looked to her, a smirk on his face. "What's so funny?" She shook her head in response, but he wasn't satisfied. He pressed the inquiry a second time, and when she had denied him again, he snuck an arm around her waist and in one quick pull, brought her face to face with him. "Youse is just filled wid all kinds a secrets, aint ya?"

"Don't try tah figure 'em out, either, Conlon." She shrugged within his hold but did nothing to release herself. "Who knows, ya might not like what ya find out."

"Nah, I like a good mystery." His smirk grew more self-assured and he whispered onto her lips, implying the charm he was so infamous for to see where it would lead him. "After all, I've always loved a good challenge."

For a moment, she couldn't willingly pull away from him, as if some kind of force was prohibiting it. She found that she was losing herself in his eyes; spellbinding as they were, why hadn't she noticed their beauty before? She almost caught her breath in her throat but quickly allowed the feelings to dissipate. What was she thinking! She couldn't allow herself to succumb to this absurdity again...too much pain was involved.

She turned away from him out of his grasp and pretended that a fruit vendor across the street arguing with a customer had attracted her attention. Spot watched her, a bit disappointed, but he only shook his head with a grin and thought nothing more of it. If she wanted to take things slow, it was perfectly fine with him. He had had enough experience with speeding relationships up, only to have them end in disaster.

"Well, we'se better get going 'fore the boiys eat up all the lunch." Not waiting for her answer, he started to walk down the sidewalk heading towards the docks and his lodging house. Unlike Manhattan, the Brooky's hadn't ever established a diner as their own, and besides, they had unanimously agreed that their money was better spent elsewhere; new shoes and thicker clothes for the winter didn't buy themselves. And so, with the help of their lodge keeper Mr. Scaparti, the boys took turns making lunch for their brood.

If Spot remembered correctly, however, the twins Mace and Mason would be in charge of the kitchen today. He inwardly shuddered. He could only imagine what slop they would throw together and call food. Last time they cooked, he had gotten a stomachache for four days.

Snap spun around at his words, not understanding what he had meant. His back was facing her as he progressed on his way, but she willed herself to remain unmoving and so called out after him. "Whaddya mean 'fore the boiys eat up all the lunch?"

Without turning to face her, he replied, "well there's about fifty of 'em, Snappy. And there's only so much food. Sooner or latah, it'll be gone and I'se aint lookin' forward tah skippin' lunch today." He finally stopped walking and leaned onto a lamp pole while he waited for her to catch up with him. "So if youse'll kindly pick up the pace..."

"Whoa, whoa. Ya think I'se goin' back tah that place? The fellahs there friggin' hate me! I aint gunna sit in no room where everyone's glarin' at me and wishin' I'se was dead." She crossed her arms and stood her ground. "Why can't we'se just grab a bite at Tibby's or somethin', huh? Why ya gotta make it so hard?"

He let out a dramatic sigh and looked at her as if she were being unreasonably childish. "They's aint gunna treat ya like that, all right? Cause the foist scab who even thinks of opening 'is mouth tah insult ya will have the pleasure of feelin' me fist ram into 'is face. So long as youse and me is friends, they won't have a problem wid ya. They accept who I accept."

"Somehow, that aint too reassurin'. They may act all nice in front of youse, but the moment ya leave the room, I have a feelin' they's gunna toin into complete asses."

"Yea, ya probably right." Though the situation called him to be serious, he couldn't suppress a laugh from escaping him. Bipolar attitudes, one of the reasons he loved the enigma that was the Brooklyn realm. He pushed himself off the lamp pole and neared her in a few strides. "Listen, no one's forcing ya tah go anywhere. If ya don't wanna go tah Brooklyn, it's fine wid me but I can't be changing me plans to accommodate ya. I don't mean tah sound harsh or anything, but I'm only bein' honest."

She nodded, fully understanding. That was one thing she liked about Spot, he was always forward in his words or actions. If he thought you should know something, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you. And if he felt like doing something, he'd undoubtedly do it. Nothing held him back. "Well...ya think they'll be civil if ya tell 'em to?"

"They shoah as hell will be once I get through wid 'em." His grin contradicted the violent promises of the statement. He rested his hands on his hips and arched an eyebrow as if to say 'well?'

Snap felt a foreshadowing within her of terrible things to come. Why was she agreeing to walk forth into a territory filled with boys that despised her? Did she truly believe Spot could make them see her differently even after their opinions had been practically engraved in stone? She had high hopes. "Okay, I'll go," she said simply.

"Great. Now let's get movin', huh?" Spot turned around once again towards his destination, waited for Snap to fall into step beside him, and then started off to Brooklyn.

~*~*~*~*~

A rainy day kept the Manhattan newsboys from hawking afternoon editions as the inclement weather seemed to find pleasure in remaining directly over their borough. And so, the lodging house was more crowded than usual so early in the day, driving Kloppman mad-for he was quite accustomed to silence until late evening and upon seeing that he would be granted no such solitude in which to read a book or catch up on balancing his funding files, he acted much in the manner of an annoyed grandfather.

"Racetrack!" he nearly yelled as he slowly shuffled his way into the lodge's main room, careful not to flare up his back's arthritic tendencies. The boys there were lounged about a round table missing a leg, that leg having been made up for with stacked books. "Racetrack! Did ya get those books from my office, huh?"

Race put out his cigar bashfully and stammered for an answer. He could already feel the wrath of the chastising father-figure Kloppman often was towards the boy. "Uh...well, the boiys was needin' somethin' tah hold the table up right and..."

Kloppman waved a hand to signal he didn't wish to hear any more. He pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and mumbled something under his breath about how the day's youth needed to learn respect for their elders. The other boys seated only grinned and snickered at Race's scolding while the Italian glared at them. "Now, what's poker gunna get ya in life, Racetrack, eh? It's all ya do, day in and day out, but is it gunna make ya successful in life, boy?"

"Actually, sir," piped up Blink, "I hear that gamblers is makin' some good cash these days." The others rightfully laughed, up until Kloppman smacked Blink upside the head and grinned; then the laughed downright exploded into hilarity. Blink tried to look hurt by the action, but he had to smirk at the rebuttal.

"Now as I was sayin' before you rejects interrupted me," Kloppman continued all in jest, "is that you boys need to learn some discipline 'round here! Now clean up this mess and start scrubbin' the washroom 'til it's bright and sanitary, ya hear me?"

Mush's eyes nearly popped out their sockets. He bolted upright in his chair, gripping the edges of the table before him as if he'd collapse to the floor if he didn't have some kind of stability. His mouth gaping for a few seconds, he finally gathered his bearings and squeaked out a protest. "Scrub the washrooms!?" His wide eyes and curly locks of hair made him look almost boyish. "But that's...that's so...doity! Won't we'se get goims or somethin'?"

Blink and a few of the other newsies gathered around laughed and shook their heads at Mush's outcry, playfully punching his arm and exchanging joking comments that Mush was 'such a goil'.

"I don't wanna hear ya whining and complainin'," Kloppman said as he turned away and headed for his office where maybe he could find some peace and quiet. "Get up them stairs and get tah work!"

The boys moaned and groaned as Race collected each hand of cards and shuffled them back into his deck. "This is injustice," he muttered. "I'se can't believe that he's makin' us clean this place up! The way it is now is fine wid me."

"Aint there somethin' else we'se could do 'sides cleanin' up the washroom?" It was Mush who had asked the question, and he looked absolutely miserable at being presented the job Kloppman had assigned them.

"Ah, Mushie, soak it up, huh?" Blink draped an arm around his friend's shoulders and guided him towards the staircase. "What would the goils thinks of youse if they saw ya like this?" The younger of the two blushed at the mention of the opposite gender, giving his friends just one more thing to laugh at for the day.

"What's so funny?"

They turned around to see Vixen walking down the corridor that led to the storage room and mess of a kitchen. One of the springs for her bunk's mattress had busted and she had hoped that perhaps there were extra mattresses somewhere about the lodging house, but her search had proved in vain. She'd have to end up enduring an uncomfortable night from now on.

Race shrugged with a grumble. "Nothin' really. We'se just reveling in the fate Kloppman gave us. Cleanin' out the damn stalls."

"Oh yea? Well don't let me keep youse talkin' then. I should be ge..."

"Wait!" Mush exclaimed, freeing himself from under Blink's arm. "How come we'se is the only ones that's gots tah do somethin' 'round heah? Why aint Vixen ever done manual labor? Cause she's a goil?" He crossed his arms in childish indignation.

Vixen rolled her eyes, but smiled anyhow. "Well aint we'se actin' all hoity-toity today!" She gently smacked Mush's cheek, invoking a bashful smile from him, and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other in thought while they watched her in expectancy. "Fine!" she said at last, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'll...I'll wash the blasted dishes in the kitchen. Happy?" She turned on her heels before receiving their reply.

The kitchen was an utter mess. Vixen groaned at the piles of dishes and stray scraps of food left for her to conquer. The place looked like a madhouse! Cabinet doors were left open, empty boxes of crackers toppled over and coffee grains spilled onto the surfaces of the counters below. The plates in the sink stunk of discarded leftovers one might find in trash bins and in one area of the kitchen floor was a mound of spaghettis that had obviously been unintentionally dropped to the floor but then discarded.

The girl pulled back her hair with a piece of cloth and wondered over where to start. She liked making things clean, but the process was sometimes just too overwhelming. She walked the length of the kitchen, examining the damages and finally concluded that this chaos was why Manhattan always went out to eat. The boys were too lazy to clean after their own untidiness.

"Well..." she looked about her, speculating. "I guess I should start off cleanin' out the cabinets." She retrieved a chair from the main room and dragged it into the kitchen where she situated it against the counter. Then, climbing atop it so that she was at level with the cabinets, she began her task. She threw the empty boxes over her head and onto the floor behind her, simultaneously swiping away cobwebs with a dirty rag she had found. "I haaate spiders!" She nearly screamed when a daddy-longlegs speeded down the cabinet with means to traverse her arm had she not pulled it away.

Looking about her to make sure no one had picked up on one of her lesser weaknesses, she concentrated on the cleaning again. There was a glass plate nestled farther back in the cabinet she was presently working on and she reached forth to grab it. In better light, she found that its top was covered with a newspaper dated from eight months ago. A bit hesitant, she pulled away the paper and met a most disgusting sight of worm- infested apple slices decked across something she didn't even want to begin wondering upon. The stench was what got to her the most, and taken aback by its strong odor, she pulled back from the dish only to lose her balance and fall to the ground.

The glass plate shattered from the fall, its crystalline pieces lying scattered about the floor like shaved icicles. Vixen moaned from the pain of the fall and sat up on her elbows, shaking the daze out of her. When she saw the ruined dish, she cursed and immediately set to grouping together the pieces. Only seconds later, Jack rushed into the room looking quite panicked.

"Is everything okay!?" he asked worriedly, his breathing nearly panting and his eyes wide with fear.

"Oh...well kinda, yea." Vixen frowned. She motioned to the shattered glass all over the floor. "I accidentally broke one of the dishes."

Jack ignored the statement. "Are youse all right?" He strode over to her, not once glancing at the ruins. He had been conversing with Kloppman about yesterday's headlines when he had heard the shattering glass. Afraid that one of the younger newsies had gotten themselves into a mishap, he dashed down the hallways. Upon seeing Vixen, however, he grew even more compassionate.

"What?"

"Are youse all right?" he repeated. She remained on the floor staring at him as if he had lost his mind. With a sigh, he knelt down beside her and took her hands in his own to see if she had been cut.

"Jack, I'm fine," she answered him finally, though she didn't take her hands back from him. "I just fell is all. But the plate, I broke one of the plates..."

He shrugged. "So what? We'se could always replace one of those. But youse is more valuable." Embarrassed by the honest words, he tried to finagle his way out of coming across so gentle. "After all, I'se can't replace one of me newsies, right?" He quickly released her hands and stood to his feet, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt for no particular reason other than to take his attention off Vixen.

She also stood up and watched him with narrowed eyes. "So is that all I am tah youse, Jack Kelly? Just another one of ya newsies?"

He fixed his eyes back onto her, surprised she had asked him such a thing. What was he to say? He kept telling himself to confess his feelings for her, but his pride kept him from doing just that. What would everyone else think of him, seeing him head over heels like this. "Were youse expectin' me tah think of you as somethin' else?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Ya full of it, ya know that?" She threw the rag she had been holding onto the floor and stormed out the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. When she was gone, Jack kicked at one of the glass shards.

"Damnit, Kelly," he whispered to himself. "What'd ya go and do now?"

~*~*~*~*~

Spot entered his lodging house like a returning king, pulling open both doors of the Brooklyn lodge's entrance and then sauntering in like royalty. Snap followed in closely behind him, thankful the main room lacked sufficient lighting and hoping attention would not be drawn towards her.

"Heya," Spot greeted those newsies who were keeping themselves occupied in whatever way they found fit, "where's the rest of the crew?" A small boy who looked to be around six or seven years old explained to his leader that some boys were upstairs playing cards or marbles, while others had journeyed to Staten Island for a free cabaret show. Spot nodded in thanks for the information and proceeded into the room.

An all too familiar sight stopped him in his tracks and caused him to groan in annoyance. Runner was sprawled out onto the room's only couch upside down, a cigarette in one hand while he read yesterday's paper. Spot rolled his eyes and neared his cousin. "Runnah, get ya lazy ass up, huh? All youse has been doin' lately is sitting 'round throwin' yaself pity parties."

Runner laid his head back and looked up at the Brooklyn leader's voice, seeing an inverted vision of Spot. Saying not a word in response, he focused back on his newspaper. The elder Conlon didn't favor being ignored, though. With means to seek revenge, he casually walked over to the backside of the couch, seized Runner's sock-covered feet, and shoved the boy off the piece of furniture. Runner yelped and landed onto the floor with a resounding 'thump'.

"Damn, Spot, could youse be any more of a jackass?" Runner thought to climb to a standing position, but merely remained on the floor for lack of energy. He reached for his cigarette which had rolled away from his hand and was glad it hadn't gone to waste.

"As a mattah a' fact, I can," the other answered with a smirk.

"Ah, leave him alone, Conlon. The kid's freakin' heartbroken!" Rhapsody marched down the stairs gracefully, the ends of her ankle-length skirt brushing across each step with ease. "Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that, seeing how ya don't give a damn about any girl these days." She grinned at her leader teasingly and crossed the room to sit upon the couch Runner had just occupied.

Runner was watching her incredulously. "D'ya think we'se can keep me romance life on the down low?" he hissed at her.

But the commotion and gossip had already commenced. All the Brooky's gathered in the main room began to draw closer together to press their burning questions. "Runnah's in love?" "Who's the goil, Runnah?" "Another one of Spot's goils you stole?" Though everyone laughed at that last comment, Spot shot them a look of warning that silenced them.

"Ah, Spotty. Don't be hatin' us or anything," one of the older boys said cheerfully as he jokingly threw some punches at Spot's arm. "Now thinkin' about it, I don't think youse was ever in love."

"Spot's too good tah be in love, ya idiot."

"Nah, he just aint found the poifect goil yet."

Rhapsody watched on as everyone took turns teasing their leader. On intolerable days, Spot would have most likely snapped at each one of them and demand they shut their traps before he soaked them good, but today he seemed to be in high spirits. One could hardly get away with insulting Spot Conlon, even in jest. She caught his eye and then smiled brightly. "Spot isn't a romantic, fellahs. I don't think we'll ever see him settled down."

Spot shrugged with a smirk. "Well what can I say? When youse gots the entire female population of New Yawk on their knees fer youse, settlin' down aint that easy a thing tah do." He became cockier when his boys snickered at the crude remark and slapped hands with a few who were nearest him. Rhapsody only rolled her eyes; sometimes, she hated living with dozens of teenage boys.

"That's all good," Runner remarked from where he lay on the floor. "But I hope ya realize that they's only on their knees cause I wore 'em out the night before." His grin was a devilish one as the laughter in the main room crescendoed. He saw the spark in his cousin's eyes calculating a clever comeback, but when Runner noticed a girl standing behind him who had yet to speak a word, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What the hell is Snap doin' heah?" he asked bluntly.

At the mention of the girl whose name had come to be a curse in Brooklyn, everyone turned to face Snap, eyes set into hard glares. No one had even noticed she was present! A fierce tension began to arise in the room and the throng of newsies closed in tighter to prevent her escape. Snap's heart nearly stopped by the sudden attention; she could feel the hatred radiating off everyone. She stepped back hesitantly and looked to Spot for some kind of aid.

One of the first to speak was Scapegoat, who crossed his arms and spat onto the ground near Snap's feet with disdain. "Yea, what's a whore doin' in a place like this? Sorry, doll face, but we'se don't look too favorably on sluts. Why don't ya hit a bordello or somethin'?"

"Yea, get outta heah, slut!"

"Spot, make 'er leave! We don't like no damn doity people in this place!"

But Spot acted quite contrary to that last boy's request. With a strain of inhuman rage, the Brooklyn leader marched over to the boy in question, seized him by the front of his shirt, and threw him down onto the hardwood floor. Placing his shoe upon the boy's chest, he spoke words that instantly sent chills down every Brooky's spine. "If I ever hear ya say shit like that again, or if someone tells me that youse is actin' like a jackass behind me back, you can be shoah as hell that I'll break every damn bone in ya body." He pressed his foot down onto the boy harder. "Is that Understood??"

The boy nodded with incredible speed, and rolled over to catch his breath once Spot had released him. The leader looked the others in the eyes, making visual contact with every last one so that they might know the rules applied to them as well. Finally, his gaze rested onto Runner, who had by now pulled himself back onto the couch beside Rhapsody.

"Foist of all, this is a lodgin' house in case any of youse is too stupid tah remember that," he said sternly. "We don't question why anyone is heah and we coitanly don't make 'em feel unwelcome."

Runner fidgeted under his cousin's glare. Gulping down to clear his throat, he tried to splutter out an answer. "S-spot, I'se was just askin' why she..."

"SHUT UP!" the other yelled. Spot let the words settle into everyone's mind before continuing. Figuring Runner wasn't the only one to whom some scolding was due, he fixed his eyes on the others. "I don't give a damn why ya do somethin', ya hear me?? It aint none of ya business, simple as that. If youse gots a problem, ya come tah me."

He took off his hat, his golden locks dampened with sweat, and held it at his side while he resumed his leadership duties. "Now does anyone have a problem wid that?" No one did. "Good. Now I'll be goin' up tah me room now. If anyone even thinks of botherin' me with some stupid complaint or just..." He combed his fingers through his hair angrily. "...or just anything! I swear you'll hate me by the end of the day cause I aint gunna be leavin' no room for mercy this time around."

Then feeling he had said enough, he turned on his heels and motioned to Snap to follow him up the stairs that led to his room. Once they were on the second floor, she exhaled a sigh of relief but stopped midway down the hall and pulled Spot around to face her.

"Was that really necessary?" she whispered to him.

"What?"

She groaned at his ignorance. She swore, sometimes Spot just didn't think things through! "If they didn't hate me before, they definitely do now!"

He furrowed his forehead in confusion. "Whaddya talkin' about? Are ya deaf or somethin'? I just told 'em all one wrong move would end 'em up in the beatin' of their lives. They aint gunna mess wid youse now."

"But it don't mean they's not gunna hate me! Ugh! If they can't despise me openly, it's just gunna make 'em hate me all the more! Didn't ya see their faces when they realized I was in the room? They practically want me dead!" She sagged her body against a wall and let out an exasperated sigh. "I shouldn't have come heah, even if it was only for lunch. I don't belong heah."

Spot didn't know what she wanted him to say so as his mind fumbled for words that might comfort her, he brushed a few strands of her raven black hair behind an ear and stepped closer to her. "Listen, I...well, I know it's hard for youse and all, but ya can't let 'em get the best of youse, ya know? They're me newsies, and if I tell 'em tah do somethin' they'll do it. If ya want, I could maybe talk tah 'em about it and...I guess we'll see what happens from there."

"I just hope they listen tah youse," she said softly. She looked up to meet his look and was, for the second time that day, lost in the dazzling hues of sapphire that were his eyes. Soon after, she felt his hands resting comfortably on her hips and realized they were standing closer than she had realized.

Her heart beating rapidly, she took a chance on love this time around and didn't pull away when he pressed his lips against her own.

~*~*~*~*~

PLUGS:

"As the Curtain Falls" by Sita-chan

"The Show Must Go On" by Rhapsody4

"Bittersweet Martyrdom" by Morning Dew (yea, lol, another story for my repertoire. But the format got messed up during the upload. *growls* Ah well, the story's still intact so read and review when you get a chance!)