Mizu-chan!'s Notes: Hey, guys! This was my first pathetic attempt at a Newsie fanfiction. I always planned on revising the whole thing but I never got around to it. I might later on if it sparks enough interest. It's insanely long.. heh, heh, sorry about that! I hope you guys will read it, though! It's not that hard of a read! Well, enjoy. Let me know what ya think! Flame me if you wish.. I'm trying to become insensitive! XD! Oh! And on the Newsie list my nickname was Uhm. But I don't think anyone remembers me.. oh well..
I wrote this story because I was tired of reading fanfics where Spot was paired up with this really tough girl. I personally couldn't see it because I'm a huge supporter of the saying "Opposites attract". That's why I tried to make Uhm or Selece strong in areas Spot isn't and weak in other areas. I'm not sure if I did it well.. you be the judge! XD! Anyways, I'll continue posting chapters swiftly because I already have it all typed up. Unless I don't get any reviews.. ~:~talks into the nothingness that is her readers~:~
Anyways.. enjoy! If ya can..
New York City
Brooklyn
October, 8th
1900
Spot Conlon sat on the steps of the lodging house he had been staying in ever since he had become a newsie. A hand cupped his chin delicately as he watched the few straggling newsies try to sell off their papes. It was almost the end of the day. The sun was beginning to set casting a soft glow over the harsh streets. Dinner was cooking and everyone was heading back to the house. The newsies would 'hawk' the headlines as they walked towards the lodging house.
It had become a habit of Spot's to pick some pathetic newsie and buy a pape from him. He did it to be nice. It always helped with his popularity. And besides, he almost always sold all his papes before dinner.
"So, Spot, whose you gonna pick tonight?" came a low yet feminine voice. A dark brunette plopped down on the steps besides the bored leader. Her eyes glinted as a smirk slithered across her face. She, like Spot, almost always sold her papers before dinner. But unlike Spot she didn't feel bad for those who couldn't. She laughed her head off at them.
Sugar had arrived at the lodging house just days after the end of the strike when being a newsie had become a new and popular trend. There were more run-aways then orphans these days. Everyone suddenly had these daring stories to tell about how they became a newsie. Spot never told anyone his story, though, even if they pleaded for him to.
Sugar had eyes of fire, daring one to mess with her. The very air that surrounded her seemed to crackle. The moment she met someone was the moment she decided whether she liked them or not. Once she chose, there was no changing her mind. Sugar was as tough and stubborn as they came hence why she got her name. It was a joke. 'Sugar is sweet but you shoa as hell ain't.'
Spot shrugged as he kept his eyes trained on one particular newsie. Something about this brand new newsie intrigued him.
"I dunno, Suga," Spot murmured, not even looking over at her when he spoke.
Sugar narrowed her eyes. What was taking Spot's attention away from her? With a pouty expression flashing across her face, Sugar followed Spot's gaze.
"HER?!"
"What?!" Spot jerked up at Sugar's outburst. He turned his head sharply to stare at her incredulously. He wasn't the only one. A few people on the streets also stopped to see what the commotion was.
"The new girl? You gonna buy 'er pape?!" Sugar bellowed, nostrils flaring.
"I neva said that," Spot began. He cast a glance to the aforementioned "new girl" as she made her way down the street. She had arrived at the lodging house that morning, laid down her money and asked for an empty bunk. Usually when a newsie came, the first thing they wanted to see was the infamous Spot Conlon. But she had left as soon as she arrived to go sell papes, which gave everyone the idea she was nothing but a snob. Not to mention that it had dented Spot's ego.
"Of all tha people, Spot. You had ta pick 'er," Sugar glared and shook her head, reprimanding him, before standing up. She brushed herself off then stomped into the lodging house, rigid with anger.
Spot sighed then stood up himself. He might as well go buy the new girl's pape. He had already gotten yelled at for it. Slowly, the Brooklyn leader headed down the street for the girl.
His eyes softened, as he grew closer. She had bought 20 papers and by the size of her stack, she hadn't been very successful. A meek expression was plastered to her face as she cried out the headlines. It was a wonder no one had bought papers from her simply because of sympathy. But then again this was Brooklyn.
"Ahem," Spot cleared his throat as he reached his destination.
"What?" the girl stopped proclaiming the headlines. She blinked, glancing over to Spot. The instant she recognized the tough famed leader of the Brooklyn newsies, the girl lowered her eyes to the ground.
"Hm," Spot scrunched up his face. So, the girl wasn't a snob. She was shy. That explained most of it. He smirked then pulled a penny from his pocket. "One pape," he ordered, holding the penny out towards her.
"What?" she repeated herself, looking up with a shocked expression on her face. She blinked her eyes. Blue. A deep ocean blue. Spot suddenly found himself staring into them; losing himself quickly on the waves they seemed to have swirling in them.
The girl blinked again, seeing she was being stared at. She ripped her gaze away from his down to the penny he held in his hand.
"But, Mr. Spot.. sir. You, you just sold all yer papes. Why would you want one of mine?"
Spot blinked also. His ways had actually been questioned. No one ever questioned the ways of Spot, the mighty leader of the Brooklyn newsies. He smirked then snatched a paper from her arms. He shoved the penny under her nose. "Either you take dis penny and we make a trade or I jus' steal dis pape."
Her eyes went wide. She fumbled around, grabbing the penny from his hand and shoving it into her pocket. Once again, her eyes were lowered as she mumbled out a thanks. The girl then proceeded to begin walking towards the lodging house.
Spot puffed out his cheeks. Without even knowing it, this girl was doing what any other newsie would have been too frightened to do. She was walking away without him saying he was finished. Did she just happen to forget who he was? The rough and tough, gritty and grimy leader of the goddamn Brooklyn newsies! He grabbed her arm, causing the frail girl to twirl around to face him.
"So, goil, what's yer name?" he asked, leaning in close. His eyes were narrowed as he waited for her to reply.
"Uhm.." the new girl began, tugging on her arm. Spot finally released it, holding back his surprise.
"Yer name is Uhm? Who named ya dat?" Spot questioned, cocking his head to the side. His puzzled expression made him look years younger. Almost like a child.
It caused "Uhm" to giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain herself. Spot blinked, straightening up. He didn't understand what was so funny but the soft, gentle sounds of this girl's laughter made a goofy lopsided grin to appear on his usual angry face.
She giggled again before replying, "Uhm, no, that is not my name, Mr. Spot.. sir. My, uhm, name is Selece."
Spot smirked. "Uhm is just somethin' ya say alot. I see. Well, I'mma gonna call ya Uhm anyways." The boy then walked past her and headed towards the lodging house.
"Uhm, okay.." Selece began. She hurried after him then stopped. He probably wouldn't want to keep talking to her anyways. Selece sighed and walked the rest of the way to the lodging house a few feet behind Spot.
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"So, Spot. What was da new goil like?" Sugar leaned over the table, her soupspoon held delicately in her hands. She leaned on the top of her hand, a smirk spread across her face.
"Well, she wasn't no snob. She was shy, actually," Spot replied. He took a gulp of his soup and grumbled. Once again, it was watery. "Gr, we ain't got no good cooks."
"Shy, huh?" Sugar spoke, ignoring Spot's other comments. She smiled, looking down at her soup. "Shy.."
Spot looked up, tilting the bowl away from his face (he never worried about spoons). "Suga, what youse plannin'?"
"A welcomin' gift," Sugar replied. "A welcomin' gift? Suga, don't be dum'," spoke the boy who was sitting directly besides Spot. He lifted his ice blue eyes from his soup, staring across the table at Sugar. There was something he didn't like about Sugar. The feeling was mutual.
Spot sighed. This was exactly how he had come to know Sugar. She had been given 'a welcomin' gift' herself when she had first come. And she had gotten so angry with the boy who had done it. She blew up in Snork's face and just wouldn't stop. Spot had to come over and stop her himself. Something about Sugar's angry-take no prisoners attitude had attracted Spot to her. But now all he saw from her was cruelty.
"Blue's right, Suga. Leave da new goil alone," Spot glanced over to his best friend, smirking. Blue caught the other boy's gaze and they shared a mutual smirk. There was no way Sugar was going to continue with her welcoming gift plan.
Sugar stood up, defying the two toughest boys of Brooklyn. She quickly spotted the new girl. It wasn't that hard. Selece was one of the few girls there and the only one with such a beautiful hair color. It reminded Sugar of strawberries and cream. She was bursting with happiness at the prospect of making a mess of that beautiful hair as she headed over to the new girl, bowl of soup in hand.
"What da?" Blue nearly leaped across the table, his temper flaring. "Dun she know nuttin'?" he growled out, fists clenched.
Spot was also a bit angry. Both he and Blue had disapproved of that idea and yet, still she went. Selece had the courtesy to not actually know when she was pissing Spot off. Sugar had done it deliberalty.
"Who cares?" came another voice from the table.
Spot's angry gaze swerved to look at the boy who spoken. Snorks was staring at Spot, no emotion flashing in his dull brown eyes. "Everyone gets a welcomin' gift," spoke the newsie whose love of the water rivaled that of Blue.
Both Blue and Spot shared a mutual glance before sitting back down. Blue tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Sugar to do what she intended. Spot slugged his friend in the shoulder, a rare smile overcoming him, "Stop wit' da tappin'!" Blue smirked then returned to tapping.
Sugar didn't even say anything. She didn't even pretend to trip or anything like that. She simply walked behind Selece, slowed her steps and tipped the bowl of watery yet still hot soup onto the shy girl's head.
Selece gasped, jumping up as the hot liquid was spilled onto her. Her chair tipped over from her sudden leap causing a loud thud. All the newsies that were busily eating stopped themselves to stare at the new girl. Selece turned around to stare at Sugar who was laughing her head off.
Selece's eyes grew wide as the soup dripped all over her face. Small bits of carrots and potatoes were caught in her beautiful waves of hair. Her eyes began to water.
"I.. I'm sorry. Was I in the way?" Selece spoke, looking down.
Sugar smirked, grabbing the girl's chin. She yanked Selece's face up so their eyes met. "No, I'se jus' dun like ya." Sugar then laughed, a short cruel laugh and walked into the kitchen to drop off her bowl.
"Dat'll teach 'er! We 'ate snobs!" came a yell from somewhere in the crowded room.
Selece struggled to find who it was but all the newsies looked the same to her. Seeing nothing else was going to happen, the other Brooklyn newsies returned to their meals and didn't give Selece a second glance. With tears brimming in her eyes, Selece dashed out of the room, soup flying from her hair. She raced up the stairs, into the bunkroom and proceeded to then collapse in a crumpled heap of tears on her bunk.
"Does Suga bother anyone but me?" spoke Blue, still tapping his foot. Usually he was calm and withdrawn, only sparking to life every so often. But ever since Sugar had arrived, the usually quiet second in command was always angry.
"She's jus' kiddin'," mumbled Spot. He himself was never this lenient but Sugar was a girl. She was probably jealous, thinking Selece was trying to steal Spot from her. Spot had to give her a break. "'Ey, Blue, can you take me bowl back?"
"Yea', shoa, Spot," spoke Blue. "You goin' ta bed already?"
"Yea'," Spot mumbled.
"Good," Blue grinned. Spot groaned, the only time Blue ever grinned was when… "I didn't want ta hafta bring ya along wit' me. I'mma goin' out wit',"
"Spades. Yeah, 'eard it all before," Spot said, rolling his eyes. Blue was so strange when it came to his girl. Spot gave his best friend another quick slug to the shoulder before racing up the steps to the bunkroom.
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"Hey, ya in 'ere, Uhm?" Spot asked as he stepped into the bunkroom. He knew she was, though. He could hear her soft sobs in the far right corner of the room. Spot sighed, he hated when people cried. Even though the girl had insulted his pride earlier, he still felt some sort of sympathy for her.
"Please go away," came Selece's whispered reply. Spot went rigid, his cheeks puffing out again.
"No, I'm not gonna go away! I came ta check on you and you tell me ta leave?!" Spot growled out. The sobbing slowed down a little bit. He started to slowly walk towards the far right corner of the bunkroom but then froze as realization kicked in. Far right? Corner? He dashed the rest of the way to Selece's bunk and skidded to a harsh stop when he saw where her small form was. "Dat's MY bunk!"
"Wha.. what?" Selece pulled her head away from the cave her arms had formed. She looked up at Spot from her bottom bunk position. Tears were streaked down her pale visage and her eyes were red and puffy. "But they said it was empty."
"Yeah! But I sleep on da top!" Spot roared. He was the leader! THE LEADER! He got his own bunk, didn't she understand that?! By the confused look on her face, Spot assumed she didn't. "Argh, nevamind."
Spot glared at Selece who was still staring at him. He then kicked off his shoes and shoved them under the bed. His plan to cheer her up had been foiled by her ignorance to the rules of the bunkroom.
"I'mma goin' ta sleep," he annouced. There was nothing else for him to do. Blue was probably already out with Spades and Spot didn't really feel like doing something with Snorks or Sugar or any of the others.
Selece's stare never faltered. Spot blinked and found he was unable to move. It wasn't that having a girl in his bunkroom was any big deal. All the other girls were there and they all got ready for bed at the same time. That was just the way it was in Brooklyn. The builders of this lodge never actually thought that any self-respecting girl would want to be a newsie in Brooklyn so there was only one bunkroom. They made do and no one seemed to mind. But there was something about Selece that suddenly made the outgoing Spot a little more conservative. With a growl, the boy climbed up into his bed deciding to just sleep in his street clothes for tonight.
Selece sat on the bottom bunk, listening to unhappy grunts Spot was making as he got himself settled in bed. The other newsies would be coming up to bed soon. Selece wanted to be asleep by then. She flopped onto her back and stared at the bottom of the bed above her. Then with a sigh, she got on her knees and poked her head up to Spot.
"Hey, Mr. Spot.. sir, I'm sorry."
"Ah, shaddup!" Spot growled, flinging his pillow at the girl who quickly ducked back under the bed.
"Goodnight, Mr. Spot.. sir," Selece murmured, pulling her sheet over herself and closing her eyes, falling asleep quickly.
"G'nigt, Uhm," Spot muttered, trying to get comfortable again. He grew still, closing his eyes also. When he heard Selece's soft even breaths of sleep, he couldn't fight the urge to smile just a little. He leaned over the edge of the bed, staring at the sleeping girl. Then with a content sigh, flopped back onto his bed and fell quickly to sleep, long before any of the other newsies had arrived to the bunkroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New York City
Manhattan
October 9th
1900
"No, Les. You got it all wrong," Jack said to the young ten-year-old boy. He grabbed Les's arms and arranged them correctly. "Now, do a hook."
Les, eyes wide, tried a left hook with his fist. A smile spread across his face like wildfire. He glanced up, staring into the eyes of his hero.
"Did I do it right, Jack? Huh? Did I?"
"Well, its not bad fer a kid," Jack replied. A half grin appeared on his face as he whacked Les's hat down over his face. "You're gonna hafta keep praticin' till ya get as good as da Cowboy, dough."
Les pulled his hat back up, eyes shining. "Of course, Jack!"
"Jack, Les, lunch is here," Sarah commented. She had been watching the two practice fighting while she waited for the food to be served. Sarah smiled as she glanced around Tibby's, taking note of the current newsies all feeding their 12:00 hunger there. Tibby's was almost like a second home. Whenever she was sad, all Sarah had to do was come to Tibby's and there was almost always someone there to cheer her up. No one could cheer her up like Jack, though.
"Oh, yeah!" Jack proclaimed, dragging Les to the table. He and Les sat down and stared hungrily at their meals. It was almost like they were a real family. Just the three of them. Jack and Sarah and their little boy Les. Jack couldn't help but laugh at that.
"What's so funny?"
Jack stopped laughing, glancing over to Sarah. He merely shrugged then began to inhale his hot dog. Les repeated Jack's actions. Sarah smiled, watching the two before she too began to inhale her hot dog.
"Whoa, hey Spot. Whacha doin' all da way ova 'ere?" came the voice of Racetrack. He had been sitting at a table by the window, eating lunch with his best friend Kid Blink. Usually Race (nor any Manhattan newsie) wouldn't have the guts to ask Spot, the infamous Brooklyn leader a question about his reasons for doing something. Spot went where he wanted, no questions asked. But after the strike a year ago, relations with Spot had eased up. Spot was actually quite friendly.
"Shaddup, Race," or... maybe not.
"Well, somebody got up on da wrong side of da bed dis mornin'," mumbled Race. He was being quite courageous this morning.
Spot narrowed his eyes, storming over to Race. He whacked the boy quite hard on the head with his trademark cane. "I dun need non of your remarks, Race. I'mma havin' a bad da', you jus' shaddup!"
Race grimaced, rubbing the top of his head. "Dats gonna leave a mark," he complained, causing Kid Blink and the rest of the newsies at Tibby's to chuckle.
"GOOD!" Spot cried out, twirling on his heels and storming over to Jack's table. He grabbed a chair and set it harshly at the table, plopping himself down on it. The Brooklyn newsie set his elbows on the table and set his chin in his hands. His face was a storm, his eyes cloudy and angry.
Sarah blinked, as did the other two at the table. The rest of the newsies had gone back to eating. Sarah looked over at Spot curiously who met her gaze with an angry one.
"What you doin'? I needs ta speak to me men 'ere!" Spot growled out at her. He lifted his chin from his hands, making a shooing gesture with them.
Sarah looked over to Jack, who nodded his head. Jack had never seen Spot so angry and disturbed before. They had better do what he said. You never took chances with Brooklyn newsies. Never! Sarah nodded back, then stood up and dashed to sit with Racetrack and Blink.
"What is it, Spot?" Jack questioned, setting his hot dog down. His face was full of concern as he stared into his friend's eyes. Then he spit into his hand and held it out to Spot who also spat in his and they shook.
Les sat, watching quietly. He didn't want to speak for fear that Spot would send him away also. Les admired Jack but he feared Spot. Spot had been nice during the strike but still Les wasn't so sure if he was the best guy to be hanging around with.
"Wells, you see. Dere's dis new newsie in Brooklyn," Spot glanced nervously around. He then leaned in closer to Jack and whispered slowly, "It's a goil."
"You like 'er or somethin', Spot?" questioned Jack, his eyebrows raised in shock. He knew Spot had been real close to that Sugar girl but this was a different reaction. Jack could tell Spot hadn't been attracted to Sugar the way he was this new girl. It intrigued him. What kind of girl could have this effect on Spot? Spot! Of all people! Spot! She must be pretty tough.
"Well, dat's me probelm. I dun know if I like 'er," Spot complained. "She's real shy but she does dese things no one else would dare to do to me."
"Shy? 'Ow can she be shy and do tings otha newsies wouldn't dare ta do?"
"Well, it's like she dun know she's doin' it, ya know? Like, I was buyin' a pape from 'er and she asked why I was."
"Maybe she's stupid," offered Les. He realized too late that he shouldn't have said that. Spot's head turned slowly, his eyes brimming with anger. Even Jack glared at the ten year old.
"You get outta 'ere before I bust yer 'ead open!" Spot bellowed, edging from his chair. Les bolted from the table and raced to Sarah. He hopped onto his sister's lap, causing Race and Blink to burst out laughing. Spot smirked. He still had it. Jack just sighed.
"Anyways, continue, Spot," spoke Jack.
"Oh, yeah. She also took mah bottom bunk."
Random newsies around the restaurant gasped on cue causing Spot to send murderous glares to everyone. There were a few muffled snickers. It seemed that strike had damaged his image a bit. At least to the Manhattan newsies. But have no fear. He'd get his image back.
"She did? Dat's like.. dat's like, jus' sometin' you dun do," Jack commented, shaking his head sympathetically.
"Yeah, but da weird ting is dat.. I liked it."
"You liked 'er sleepin' unda ya?"
"Yeah.. like.." Spot sighed. If Jack hadn't known who Spot was, he would've sworn he saw a dreamy look in Spot's eyes. But Spot never had dreamy looks; they didn't go with his image.
"So, you like dis new goil but you dun know why."
"Dere.. dere jus' sometin' about 'er.."
"Den you gotta do sometin' nice fer 'er. I mean, if she's dat kinda goil."
Spot looked panicked. He was supposed to know what type of girl would like him to do something nice? He clenched his fists together, brows knitted as he thought deeply on this subject.
"I.. I.. what kinda goil likes nice tings?!" Spot screamed out, slamming his head into the table.
Jack was worried. Was his friend on opium? He never acted this way. Especially not in public. Especially not in the presence of other newsies.
"Spot's lost 'is marbles," Racetrack proclaimed. Kid Blink and the rest of the people in the restaurant burst out laughing. Spot pulled his head from the table, kicking out his chair and storming over to Race.
"You shut your mouth!" he growled, grabbing the collar of Race's shirt.
"I'm sorry, Spot. It was jus' a joke. Ya know, funny? Ha ha?" Race whimpered. The look in Spot's eyes assured Race that if he had answered any differently Race wouldn't be breathing right now.
"You say anything else and I'll.." Spot trailed off as he caught sight of Sarah who had been sitting across Race. A smirk slithered across his face as he sat Race down. "Heyas, Sarah."
"H.. hello, Spot," Sarah replied as she prayed to God the boy wouldn't flip out on her.
"Sarah, I got a feminie question fer ya," Spot said. In all seriousness. Race had to hold in the laughter while Kid Blink and Les didn't get it. "Nows, what goils like nice tings and what goils don't?"
"Well," Sarah began, wording her answer carefully, "Most girls like nice things done for them. Especially by people they like. But you never know just what girl likes it and what girl doesn't. You just have to do something nice and see what happens."
"Yeah? You tink dat?" Spot said. He didn't take his eyes off Sarah as he pulled Race out of his seat, which he quickly sat down in. Race shrugged and moseyed over to Jack's table since Jack's services weren't needed anymore. "What is a nice ting to do fer a goil?"
"Hm," Sarah tapped the bridge of her nose. Everyone held their breath, wondering if she'd take advantage of the situation and tell Spot to do something really stupid. No one had a doubt in their mind that if Sarah told Spot jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge was a nice thing that he would do it. "You have to find out something about her. Since you said she was a new newsie, you could find out what she missed most about her home or wherever she was before she came and give it to her."
Spot's eyes lit up as everyone sighed in disappointment. "Dat's a great ider!" he bellowed, leaping from the seat. He raced out of the restaurant; tripping every so often in his great hurry.
"You shoulda told him ta do sometin' stupid," Kid Blink grumbled. Sarah glanced over to him, eyes narrowed. She whacked him over the head.
"I'm not mean like that."
What will Spot do fer Uhm?
Will he jump off the Brooklyn Bridge?
Will Spot seriously injure Race whenever he goes back to Manhattan?
Will Sarah actually have an important part?!
Find out next time on...
THE..
STORY..
OF..
UHM!!!!!!!!!!!!!
