Spot and Jack walked silently back to the lodging house, their strides fast and long, neither one of them wanting to think of a traitor in the group of newsies. The lodging house came upon them faster then either had expected, and they looked at each other, both hesitating to open the door.

They didn't have to wait long, for the door swung open and a short Italian girl walked through, laughing as Race made a joke behind her. Her light brown eyes lost their laughter as she spotted the two very serious looking newsboys. Nervously stringing a hand through long wavy dark brown hair, she put a hand on her curvy hip.

Race interrupted the sudden silence. "'ey Spot, a pretty little number with blonde hair was lookin' for you, I think she's still around," Race smirked, knowing exactly who Bitter was, but he couldn't help but taunt the tough Brooklyn newsboy.

The girl next to him gave him a nice hard punch in the arm. Race's face instantly turned apologetic. "Oh c'mon Kit, you know you'se the only broad for me…"

Kit rolled her eyes and started to walk away, her black boots clicking on the sidewalk. "Last one to de races is a scab!" she hollered behind her, taking off.

Race scowled. "Women." He rolled his eyes before taking off after her.

Once they had passed, the two boys dredged through the open door and into the smoky room. "You better go find Bittah," Jack said with a smirk.

Spot raised his eyebrows slightly, watching Jack walk over to a group of newsies sitting around a table playing a game of poker. Jack slung his arm around his girl Snicker. Next to Snicker was Pie Eater and he had his own arm around a slim older girl named Jittery. Her long wavy light brown hair seemed to keep getting in her face, for Pie seemed accustom to placing it behind her ears, revealing two pools of big brown eyes. Her silver locket gleamed in the light and reminded Spot of Bitter's silver cross.

Turning his thoughts back to Bitter, he began his search. It was hard to miss the noisy bunkroom claimed by the girls. The girls seemed a bit rowdy tonight and Spot soon found the source of it. Irish and Bitter had taken to a drinking contest in the corner of the bunkroom. Whiskey was their choice of liquor tonight and there were glasses lined up one after another.

The loudest one cheering them on was a short Italian girl, around the age of sixteen. Her black hair reached to her mid-back and her dark brown eyes glowed with amusement. There were at least three guys that had her attention rather then the drinking contest and she made sure to wink and smile at them every once in a while, her full lips every few minutes whispering to one of the boys, something obviously erotic from how they reacted. Half-Pint was her name, and she was the well-known flirt of the Manhattan lodging house.

Spot gazed at her exposed legs up to the black skirt she was wearing. Shaking certain thoughts out of his head, he returned his attention to Bitter and Irish who were getting drunker by the moment. Pushing his way through the small crowd he stood over Bitter who was currently seated on the floor opposite of her opponent.

"I heard you were looking for me, Bittah," Spot smiled as she gave him a slightly drunken glare.

"Yeah, well seeing as you're de goddamn reason I'm bloody well heah… thanks to some information I elicited from Captain… yes of course I was lookin for you Spot…" Bitter slurred drunkenly.

Spot was not one to impose on their fun, so he said nothing about her current state and told her, with an amused look on his face, "Find me when you're done heah…"

Bitter started to stand and barely achieved it without Spot grabbing a hold of her as she was about to fall. "We'll finish dis latah Irish," Bitter nodded at her friend, who was quite a bit more sober then Bitter, used to her treasured whiskey. Irish nodded and stood as well. The crowd broke up, seeing that their entertainment was spoiled. Irish went off to find her beloved Snitch, knowing he was around somewhere.

Bitter walked, with Spot's help, to the nearest empty room and was seated on a bunk by Spot. "You're a mess Bitter," Spot chuckled.

"Nah, I'se fine," Bitter stated, trying to talk normally. "Oh I saw Shootah by de way.. and she ain't gonna be stayin heah anymore it seems like… she gathered all her t'ings and shot out of heah…" Bitter yawned sleepily.

"Damn liquor.. always makes me sweepy!" Bitter elicited quite loudly, slurring and curling up, resting her head on Spot's lap as he sat down next to her.

Spot tried talking to her, but she passed out a few moments later. He didn't move in case of waking her up from her drunken slumber, and he knew what Bitter was like when she was grumpy, so he didn't risk it. He lay back on the bed and closed his own eyes, letting his mind go through the events of the day, the puzzles that needed to be solved, and the beautiful girl that was now snoring softly on his lap.

Upon finding her sweetheart, Irish had dragged him outside and to the fire escape, making him climb up it to the roof, all the while not answering his protests and questions as to where they were going and why.

Irish let her hands and mouth explain why they were on the roof. Her lips found his mouth as they lay next to each other, the cool wind rustling through their thin, ragged clothing, which were soon to be shed. Hours upon hours went their silent holding, wandering lips and hands finding a certain romance in their touching. Night came and went, and not a second of sleep was captured by either of the quiet lovers. No words had to be spoken, and none were until morning.

"You're beautiful," Snitch said as he watched her pull on her shoes.

Irish blushed a little, leaning down to kiss him before replying. "Thanks, but we ought to get down there, sellin' is gonna be a bit tricky without sleep." Irish paused and looked at the traces of glimmering sun hitting the horizon. "Looks like I'll be in Manhattan for a few days…" Irish smiled at the thought.

Snitch pulled himself to his feet and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck gently. "Well that'll definitely make me a happy man, maybe one of these days I can convince you to stay in Manhattan with me."

Irish snorted at the thought. "Fat chance Snitch, Brooklyn's more suitable for a goil like me anyways. My friends are there… y'know…" Irish trailed off, knowing that Snitch would be disappointed by her reaction.

Snitch shrugged it off. "I'm just lucky you're even my goil…" he said as he went back to nibbling on her neck.

Irish giggled and pushed his lips from her neck. "C'mon Snitch, we gotta get downstairs before anyone suspects anything."

Snitch rolled his eyes and let her lead him back down and they snuck back into the lodging house, catching the last hour of sleep that they could.