Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, Disney obviously does(*tear* Lucky
Rats!), and I don't actually own this story, my talented friend, Kristina,
does(she, too, is a lucky rat!) and I am merely doing her a favor! But, I
actually DO own Tig and Annabelle, others as well, but you have to wait for
the sequal! So, for these reasons, don't sue me!
Summary: Marie 'Target' McCoy is a loveable tomboy who lives and sells with the Manhatten Newsies. She starts to date Spot Conlon, but what happens when her heart starts to belong to another newsie that she's known for years? NOT A MARY SUE!!! Skit/Target, Mush/Tig, Jack/OC
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Hey, I'm so sorry to anyone who is actually reading this story! I went back to school after Thanksgiving vacation and was loaded down with a ton of test(I'm sure you all know how that is!). But, I got some time today, seeing as how I'm from the East Coast(Pennsylvania to be exact!) and we had a snow storm last night, so I was called off today! Again, I'm truly sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy this chapter of NewsieGoil!
May 30, 1900
The next day, Target didn't wake up before the boys; she was so exhausted from the day before. The boys thought it was strange that she didn't wake that morning. The Newsies went about their business as quietly as they could so they didn't wake her up.
"Hey Jack," Blink began to whisper, "shouldn't we wake Target up?" He turned to her door as he finished buttoning his shirt. "I'se mean, she always gets us up and movin'."
Jack finished adjusting his bandana and said, "Get some of the boys and follow me."
Blink told Mush, Race, Skit, Bumlets, Snoddy, and Specs to follow him. The eight boys stood in the doorway of Target's room. Jack began to whisper to the boys his plan. They turned back around, faced forward and yelled all at once, "CARRYIN' DA BANNA!"
Target jumped, rolled to the other side of the bed, then fell to the floor. The Newsies laughed uncontrollably. Target's head popped up from the other side of the bed. A few pieces of hair fell in her face. She placed her head and arms on the bed and blew the hair out of her eyes.
"T'anks," she sighed. The boys were still full of laughter. She picked herself up off of the hard wooden floor. Most of the boys turned and walked out of the room. Jack, however, stayed and leaned up against the wall, an expression of grief fell on his face.
"What?" Target asked, concerned. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards Target. He lifted his head and he looked at her with eyes of stone.
"Da scabbas got anudda Newsie dis mornin'," he stated and looked around the room. "Dey got Les."
The color drained from Target's face. "Les? Our Les?" she asked, her forehead scrunched up to hold back to tears.
"Yeah, our Les. He got soaked pretty bad; real bad gashes here and dare. Dey almost broke his arm, too," Target fell to the bed behind her. "Dey almost got dis six-year-old, too," he walked back to the window. "Da boys and I decided dat we'se gotta teach da scabbas a lesson!" he exclaimed, turning back to Target.
"What are we gonna do?" she asked, clearing her throat.
"Listen, Target, er...we'se gotta go ta Brooklyn ta get back up, ya know? Dare just ain't enough of us ta do dis alone," Jack walked back across the room. "Spot Conlon is da leada ova dare. Now, you'se got no reason ta be scared of him, he wouldn't hurt a goil, not intentionally," Target got up.
"I'se heard of Spot, who hasn't? I'se guess I'se gotta go wit you'se den?" she asked, placing her hat on her head.
"You're gonna be da only goil dare, so if anyone gets a little crazy, just punch 'em, 'kay?" he said in question. Jack began to walk out of the room.
"Jack," she called, "is dis Spot Conlon good lookin'?"
Jack could see a figure out of the corner of his eye. He slightly turned his head. Skittery was mouthing the words 'no' and waving his arms. Jack turned back to Target in her room and said, "He's okay, I'se guess."
A little ways beside his, Skittery hit himself in the forehead and than headed downstairs. Back in the room, Target smiled and grabbed her slingshot out of the dresser beside her cot. Jack and Target made their way out of the muggy Lodging House.
Outside the sun was high and bright. Many Newsies stood leaning up an empty wagon. Others paced back and forth on the sidewalk.
"Ok, boys," Jack paused, "and Target, off ta Brooklyn," he sighed. So the Newsies walked, and walked, and walked, until they finally reached the Brooklyn Bridge. It had been two years since the Newsies went to Brooklyn for help.
They walked across the bridge, hands in their pockets, and serious looks on their faces. What they didn't know is that it was the celebration of Spot's birthday and that Mr. Conlon wasn't in the mood of being bothered with something like this.
The air was warm as the breeze blew against their faces. The group made their way down to the docks where Spot and his Newsies hung out. They walked on a wooden platform, some of them could see the Brooklyn Newsies in the distance. The air was a great deal cooler down by the water. As they drew nearer to Spot, Jack placed his hand out to his side.
"Stay behind me," he said to Target. As they passed the crowd of boys, it seem as if every eye was drawn to Target. She held on to Jack's arm as she scanned the unfamiliar faces. With her other hand, she gripped her slingshot.
Target let go of Jack's arm and took her slingshot out of it's holster and felt the round marbles in her other pocket. Spot lifted his head and saw Jack and his gang walking toward him. No one said a word.
"You'se likes me little celebration, Jackie-Boy?" Spot asked.
"Happy boithday, Spot," Jack answered.
"What do you'se need now, Kelly? I'se is kind of busy here."
Target walked up and stood beside Jack.
"So, Jackie-Boy, who's your broad?"
"Hey pal, I'se ain't no one's broad!" Target shouted, pointing a finger at Spot. That was how she showed she cared as she placed her cigarette back in her mouth. Spot leaned in and whispered to Jack.
"You'se know, she ain't dat bad lookin', Kelly," he turned and took a long look at Target.
"I'se wouldn't try anythin', Spot! She's got a mean right hook, I'se know from personal experience."
Spot gave a soft smile in her direction and said, "She may be a fighter, but can she shoot?"
Target raised her eyebrows and lifted her slingshot. "Give me a target," she said, taking the cigarette out of her mouth. Spot looked at her and smiled. He pointed to a sign hanging about a doorway.
"Shoot dat," he ordered. "If you'se hits dat, you'se can be me goil."
"You'se must want me pretty bad if you'se give me dat big of a target," she said, taking a bright green marble out of her pocket. She looked deep into Spot's blue eyes. "You see dat boid ova dare?" she pointed to a pidgen on top of the same house. "If I'se hits dat, den I'll be your goil. Dat fair?" she walked closer and blew smoke in his face.
"Sounds fair, sweetie," Spot replied, stepping forward. Target had to tilt her head backward to look at him. She stuck her cigarette in Spot's mouth to hold and turned back to the house.
"You'se," she pointed to one of the younger newsboys, "what's your name?" she asked.
"Grinner," he answered.
"Well Grinner, what I'se want you'se ta do is throw a rock at da roof a dat house. Got it?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, picking up a smooth, round stone and rubbing it between his fingers for a few minutes. He hurled it towards the roof. The bird burst into flight. Target pulled back on the elastic tight with her right hand. Everyone was dead silent; the only nose was the marble whizzing through the air as she let go of the rubber band. Everyone's mouth dropped as the marble stuck the bird dead in flight, both plummeting to the ground.
A smirk appeared on Target's face. She actually didn't know if she would be able to clear that shot, but she had. Maybe this would make Skittery a little jealous and make him come after her for himself. Marie turned back around to Spot.
"Da name's Spot, Spot Conlon," he said, extending his head out for a shake. Target spat in her palm then shook his hand. All the Newsies cheered except for Skittery. He was feeling very jealous. "What's your name, sweetheart?" Spot said, wrapping his arm around her.
"Target, and no one calls me otherwise."
"Well, I'm gonna call you'se sweetheart," he explained, pulling her closer.
Jack turned around to see Skittery; his face was pale and cross as he walked sadly away. Jack turned back to Spot in regret.
"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea ta bring Target along," Jack said to himself quietly. "I'se is Skit's buddy. Buddies don't do dat to eachudda," he thought.
"So, Jackie-Boy," Spot began, "why did you'se come here, besides to give me dis gorgeous boithday gift?" he questioned, looking at Target.
"Gift? I'se ain't no gift!" she thought to herself.
"Well Spot," Jack said, moving towards the couple, "we'se need your help again. Da scabbas have just been beating up us Newsies in da street; dey got Les da other day. We'se need ta put an end ta all dis...wit your help of course."
Spot looked at Target, then back to Jack.
"Yeah, I'se know Jack, its been goin' on here too. You'se help us, we help you'se," Spot said as Target took her cigarette back out of Spot's mouth.
"So, will you help us?" David asked, stepping forward beside Jack.
"Hey, it's da walkin' mouth! How's it been, Davie?" Spot said, laughing. It was good to see his old friends. "Yeah, we'll help." They were lucky Spot was in a good mood that day, or else they wouldn't have gotten more then a grumble.
*** *** And then there was chapter three! I hope you all enjoyed this one and, remember, R/R; it's very much appreciated and makes both of our days!
JustDuck: Thanks! It does get better, and believe me, when it does, you'll be so happy that you have a special place in your heart for Skit! And yes, that is a nice image(even though, personally, Mush is mine! LOL It's Kris who's obsession went from Spot to Skit!) Remember to try and review again! It's nice to hear from fans of the story who read it from the beginning!
Summary: Marie 'Target' McCoy is a loveable tomboy who lives and sells with the Manhatten Newsies. She starts to date Spot Conlon, but what happens when her heart starts to belong to another newsie that she's known for years? NOT A MARY SUE!!! Skit/Target, Mush/Tig, Jack/OC
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Hey, I'm so sorry to anyone who is actually reading this story! I went back to school after Thanksgiving vacation and was loaded down with a ton of test(I'm sure you all know how that is!). But, I got some time today, seeing as how I'm from the East Coast(Pennsylvania to be exact!) and we had a snow storm last night, so I was called off today! Again, I'm truly sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy this chapter of NewsieGoil!
May 30, 1900
The next day, Target didn't wake up before the boys; she was so exhausted from the day before. The boys thought it was strange that she didn't wake that morning. The Newsies went about their business as quietly as they could so they didn't wake her up.
"Hey Jack," Blink began to whisper, "shouldn't we wake Target up?" He turned to her door as he finished buttoning his shirt. "I'se mean, she always gets us up and movin'."
Jack finished adjusting his bandana and said, "Get some of the boys and follow me."
Blink told Mush, Race, Skit, Bumlets, Snoddy, and Specs to follow him. The eight boys stood in the doorway of Target's room. Jack began to whisper to the boys his plan. They turned back around, faced forward and yelled all at once, "CARRYIN' DA BANNA!"
Target jumped, rolled to the other side of the bed, then fell to the floor. The Newsies laughed uncontrollably. Target's head popped up from the other side of the bed. A few pieces of hair fell in her face. She placed her head and arms on the bed and blew the hair out of her eyes.
"T'anks," she sighed. The boys were still full of laughter. She picked herself up off of the hard wooden floor. Most of the boys turned and walked out of the room. Jack, however, stayed and leaned up against the wall, an expression of grief fell on his face.
"What?" Target asked, concerned. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards Target. He lifted his head and he looked at her with eyes of stone.
"Da scabbas got anudda Newsie dis mornin'," he stated and looked around the room. "Dey got Les."
The color drained from Target's face. "Les? Our Les?" she asked, her forehead scrunched up to hold back to tears.
"Yeah, our Les. He got soaked pretty bad; real bad gashes here and dare. Dey almost broke his arm, too," Target fell to the bed behind her. "Dey almost got dis six-year-old, too," he walked back to the window. "Da boys and I decided dat we'se gotta teach da scabbas a lesson!" he exclaimed, turning back to Target.
"What are we gonna do?" she asked, clearing her throat.
"Listen, Target, er...we'se gotta go ta Brooklyn ta get back up, ya know? Dare just ain't enough of us ta do dis alone," Jack walked back across the room. "Spot Conlon is da leada ova dare. Now, you'se got no reason ta be scared of him, he wouldn't hurt a goil, not intentionally," Target got up.
"I'se heard of Spot, who hasn't? I'se guess I'se gotta go wit you'se den?" she asked, placing her hat on her head.
"You're gonna be da only goil dare, so if anyone gets a little crazy, just punch 'em, 'kay?" he said in question. Jack began to walk out of the room.
"Jack," she called, "is dis Spot Conlon good lookin'?"
Jack could see a figure out of the corner of his eye. He slightly turned his head. Skittery was mouthing the words 'no' and waving his arms. Jack turned back to Target in her room and said, "He's okay, I'se guess."
A little ways beside his, Skittery hit himself in the forehead and than headed downstairs. Back in the room, Target smiled and grabbed her slingshot out of the dresser beside her cot. Jack and Target made their way out of the muggy Lodging House.
Outside the sun was high and bright. Many Newsies stood leaning up an empty wagon. Others paced back and forth on the sidewalk.
"Ok, boys," Jack paused, "and Target, off ta Brooklyn," he sighed. So the Newsies walked, and walked, and walked, until they finally reached the Brooklyn Bridge. It had been two years since the Newsies went to Brooklyn for help.
They walked across the bridge, hands in their pockets, and serious looks on their faces. What they didn't know is that it was the celebration of Spot's birthday and that Mr. Conlon wasn't in the mood of being bothered with something like this.
The air was warm as the breeze blew against their faces. The group made their way down to the docks where Spot and his Newsies hung out. They walked on a wooden platform, some of them could see the Brooklyn Newsies in the distance. The air was a great deal cooler down by the water. As they drew nearer to Spot, Jack placed his hand out to his side.
"Stay behind me," he said to Target. As they passed the crowd of boys, it seem as if every eye was drawn to Target. She held on to Jack's arm as she scanned the unfamiliar faces. With her other hand, she gripped her slingshot.
Target let go of Jack's arm and took her slingshot out of it's holster and felt the round marbles in her other pocket. Spot lifted his head and saw Jack and his gang walking toward him. No one said a word.
"You'se likes me little celebration, Jackie-Boy?" Spot asked.
"Happy boithday, Spot," Jack answered.
"What do you'se need now, Kelly? I'se is kind of busy here."
Target walked up and stood beside Jack.
"So, Jackie-Boy, who's your broad?"
"Hey pal, I'se ain't no one's broad!" Target shouted, pointing a finger at Spot. That was how she showed she cared as she placed her cigarette back in her mouth. Spot leaned in and whispered to Jack.
"You'se know, she ain't dat bad lookin', Kelly," he turned and took a long look at Target.
"I'se wouldn't try anythin', Spot! She's got a mean right hook, I'se know from personal experience."
Spot gave a soft smile in her direction and said, "She may be a fighter, but can she shoot?"
Target raised her eyebrows and lifted her slingshot. "Give me a target," she said, taking the cigarette out of her mouth. Spot looked at her and smiled. He pointed to a sign hanging about a doorway.
"Shoot dat," he ordered. "If you'se hits dat, you'se can be me goil."
"You'se must want me pretty bad if you'se give me dat big of a target," she said, taking a bright green marble out of her pocket. She looked deep into Spot's blue eyes. "You see dat boid ova dare?" she pointed to a pidgen on top of the same house. "If I'se hits dat, den I'll be your goil. Dat fair?" she walked closer and blew smoke in his face.
"Sounds fair, sweetie," Spot replied, stepping forward. Target had to tilt her head backward to look at him. She stuck her cigarette in Spot's mouth to hold and turned back to the house.
"You'se," she pointed to one of the younger newsboys, "what's your name?" she asked.
"Grinner," he answered.
"Well Grinner, what I'se want you'se ta do is throw a rock at da roof a dat house. Got it?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, picking up a smooth, round stone and rubbing it between his fingers for a few minutes. He hurled it towards the roof. The bird burst into flight. Target pulled back on the elastic tight with her right hand. Everyone was dead silent; the only nose was the marble whizzing through the air as she let go of the rubber band. Everyone's mouth dropped as the marble stuck the bird dead in flight, both plummeting to the ground.
A smirk appeared on Target's face. She actually didn't know if she would be able to clear that shot, but she had. Maybe this would make Skittery a little jealous and make him come after her for himself. Marie turned back around to Spot.
"Da name's Spot, Spot Conlon," he said, extending his head out for a shake. Target spat in her palm then shook his hand. All the Newsies cheered except for Skittery. He was feeling very jealous. "What's your name, sweetheart?" Spot said, wrapping his arm around her.
"Target, and no one calls me otherwise."
"Well, I'm gonna call you'se sweetheart," he explained, pulling her closer.
Jack turned around to see Skittery; his face was pale and cross as he walked sadly away. Jack turned back to Spot in regret.
"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea ta bring Target along," Jack said to himself quietly. "I'se is Skit's buddy. Buddies don't do dat to eachudda," he thought.
"So, Jackie-Boy," Spot began, "why did you'se come here, besides to give me dis gorgeous boithday gift?" he questioned, looking at Target.
"Gift? I'se ain't no gift!" she thought to herself.
"Well Spot," Jack said, moving towards the couple, "we'se need your help again. Da scabbas have just been beating up us Newsies in da street; dey got Les da other day. We'se need ta put an end ta all dis...wit your help of course."
Spot looked at Target, then back to Jack.
"Yeah, I'se know Jack, its been goin' on here too. You'se help us, we help you'se," Spot said as Target took her cigarette back out of Spot's mouth.
"So, will you help us?" David asked, stepping forward beside Jack.
"Hey, it's da walkin' mouth! How's it been, Davie?" Spot said, laughing. It was good to see his old friends. "Yeah, we'll help." They were lucky Spot was in a good mood that day, or else they wouldn't have gotten more then a grumble.
*** *** And then there was chapter three! I hope you all enjoyed this one and, remember, R/R; it's very much appreciated and makes both of our days!
JustDuck: Thanks! It does get better, and believe me, when it does, you'll be so happy that you have a special place in your heart for Skit! And yes, that is a nice image(even though, personally, Mush is mine! LOL It's Kris who's obsession went from Spot to Skit!) Remember to try and review again! It's nice to hear from fans of the story who read it from the beginning!