The next evening found Annie pacing nervously in her apartment after work. Back and forth, back and forth she strode as she talked out loud to the kitchen appliances. "Should I go? I should go, right? I mean, I wanna go, they want me to go…it makes sense. Only, what if dey don't want me to go? What if dey's jus' bein' nice?" Even she couldn't convince herself of that; she rolled her eyes at the idiocy of anyone going through all that trouble to get someone they didn't like to spend time with them. Then her breath caught in her throat: "What if they did?"

Her pacing was interrupted by the entry of her father from the bedroom. He had lost his job – again – and now spent most of the day in a drunken stupor, dreaming about his wife and the way things used to be. Because of this, Annie was surprised to see that he was sober. Well, mostly, anyway, she thought bitterly, staring at the half-empty bottle in his hand.

He peered at her through watery red eyes. "Annabelle, I'm sorry," he said finally. "No, wait," he cut her off as she opened her mouth to reply, "I've been watching you the last month or so, and something's different. Something's changed. You're happier now than you ever were before, and I don't know why." He shook his head in amazement, "What kind of father am I that I don't know what was making my daughter unhappy, or what's making her happy now?"

Annie's eyes dropped to the bottle, then back up to his face. He caught her look and smiled, "Is this what you've been so worried about?" He waved the bottle around, "Annabelle, I don't drink so much. Just – enough, y'know? It's hard being a working man and father. Especially now that you're mother's…Well, anyway, you don't have to worry about me abusing you or anything. I'll never get that drunk."

Annie bit her lip, her eyes shining with unshed tears that she held back for him – everything was for him. "I know, Da," she said softly. "An' yer a great fadder."

He shook his head and smiled sadly at her. "I was a great father. Before your mother…before Caroline," his lip trembled and he lifted the bottle to his mouth with a shaking hand. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he whispered, "I'm sorry," before turning around and going back into the back room.

Annie stared after him for a moment, the hurt evident on her features. For a moment, she looked as though she were about to cry, then the sadness gave way to anger. With quick, violent motions, she grabbed her shoes and yanked them on, snatched her coat from the coat rack and threw it around her shoulders, and jerked the door open. She glared over her shoulder, and her face softened. "I love you, Da," she whispered before leaving.

The walk to the Lodging House seemed faster than ever before. Annie strode forward confidently in a sort of fog, thinking about absolutely nothing except for the feeling of safety that increased as she neared her friends. Somehow these boys had found her and cared for her, had become her source of strength. Annie paused to smile at the sign over the door of the Lodging House before heading inside.

A couple of boys glanced up as the door swung open, but most of them looked back down as soon as they recognized Annie – actually, most of them simply recognized "that goil who bums around wit' Jack an' Race an' all." Jack and Mush, however, bounded forward to greet her.

"Annie!" Mush yelped, "You're back! I didn't think you was ever gonna come back. I'se glad ya did, though."

Annie smiled at him. Race, who was watching her from the chair where he was smoking a cigar and shuffling his cards, noted that it was a real smile, with no pain or guilt. He continued to observe Jack's and Mush's excited greetings before finally getting up himself. Annie noticed his approach and turned to look at him. When she realized who it was, a huge smile lit up her face for a moment, then she immediately directed it at the floor. Race paused in confusion for a moment, but by the time he reached them, she had schooled her face into a less buoyant grin.

"Hey, Annie!" he said, then mouthed "Bell" over the other boys' shoulders. He chuckled at her glare, then at the confused looks on Jack's and Mush's faces as they heard his seemingly unwarranted laugh.

"So, what's goin' on tonight?" Annie asked. "I remember you'se guys tellin' me dat da older newsies don't usually come in till later, but it seems like everyone's here before dinner tonight."

"Not Blink," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah, he's never been very good at poker," Mush said, "I think this date wit Samantha is jus' an excuse for 'im not to play."

"Oh, because you're 'Mr. Cards' 'imself, huh?" Jack teased.

"It's a poker night," Race explained, "we'se jus' waitin' for a couple more people to get 'ere, den we'se startin'."

Annie nodded and said, "Well, since it looks like it's all guys an' I'm not much on poker anyway, I'll come back later."

"No, stay," Jack protesed, "You can jus' watch if you want."

Raising a sarcastic eyebrow, Annie said, "Oooh, dat sounds like fun."

"Naw, dere's someone out every round, an' people'll be talkin' an' stuff. You won't get bored." Mush grinned hopefully at her.

Race, who had been staring incredulously at her the whole time, said, "You dunno how to play poker? How is dat possible? Everyone who lives on da streets has to learn. It's self-defense!"

"I know how to play," Annie said, "I'se jus' not very good at it. I fold when I should call an' stay in when I got nuttin'. An' I ain't had a lot o' practice. It's not like I've spent a lot o' time wit' odder kids."

Race shook his head, "Dat's no excuse. You're stayin'. No arguments. Ya gotta learn how to play sometime, an' it's safest among friends."

"Safest?" Annie laughed, but Race held up a warning finger.

"You never know," he said in mock-seriousness, "when a poker game could mean life or death."

Rolling her eyes, Annie allowed herself to be led to the game.

OOOOO

Cries of "Annabelle!" issued from the other room.

"Yes, Da?" Annie called back.

"Come here, please."

Perplexed, Annie drew her sudsy hands out of the water, wiped them off on a nearby towel, and headed for the back room.

"Yes, Da?" she said again, on reaching it.

Her father was sprawled out on his bed, clutching something in his hand. "Annabelle, I just want you to know…I mean, if anything – I love you, you know that, right?"

"Da, I…" Annie trailed off, trying to get a better look at what was in his hand.

"No, really," he seemed very anxious to convey this to her, "I love you more than…more than anything." He began waving his hands around to emphasize his point, and Annie caught a glimpse of the photograph in his hand, enough to ensure that it was her mother, although she could have guessed that easily.

"Not more'n anything," she muttered.

"What's that?"

With some effort, Annie summoned up a bright smile, "I know, Da, an' I love you, too. Only I gotta get back to da dishes."

Her father nodded and waved her off, and she headed back to the kitchen with a lot on her mind. After she finished the dishes, she headed off to the Lodging House, as she so often did now. One or two of her friends would often be lurking about, and, if not, she knew their favorite haunts well enough by now to be able to dig one up. Tonight, however, it was not necessary, as she found Jack lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked brightly as she entered the bunkroom.

Jack allowed himself a grin before answering, "Thinkin'."

Annie nodded and climbed onto the top bunk next to his, laying down with a sigh of contentment.

After a few minutes, Jack began to speak – rather nervously, Annie noticed. "Annie, we've known each udder a while, an' we'se pretty good friends, huh?" He sat up and looked at her to gauge her reaction. Annie nodded. "Well, um, y'see, it's like dis: I like ya, Annie. I like ya a lot. An' as more'n jus' friends."

Annie sat up, too, in a panic. "Jack, you don't…you don't mean dat!"

"I do, Annie, or I wouldn't be sayin' it. So I wanted to ask if you'd be my goil."

Annie stared at him in horror for a moment, then turned away. "Jack, I–" she trailed off helplessly.

"Wait. Before you say anything, jus' lemme tell you: dat first time I saw you – you remember, you was cryin' on da porch," Annie tensed visibly at those words, but Jack didn't notice, "I thought dat I'd like to know you better. You was so pretty an' helpless an' I jus' wanted to take care o' you. An' I have, a bit, ever since. An' –"

"Jack, I'se not really da pretty an' helpless type," Annie was trying to be gentle. "I don't wanna be 'taken care of.'"

"Then what do you want?"

"I dunno. Something else, I guess."

Jack began fidgeting with his bandanna. "Look, Annie, I wouldn't o' asked ya if I didn't think dat you – dat I had a shot, y'know?"

"But what would make you think you had a shot wit me?" Annie asked incredulously. Then, realizing how that had sounded, she corrected herself, "I mean, not dat you shouldn't. But why wit me in particular?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno. You always seemed alright wit showin' me when you're sad an' upset. You always let me comfort you, an' I know dat's a hard thing for you. Well, for anyone on da streets."

"But Jack, I don't come to you," she said bluntly, "you jus' always catch me."

"You told me about your Pop," he shot back.

"You came bargin' into my house an' saw 'im! What was I s'posed to do?" Annie was beginning to get angry, her usual response when people forced her to show emotions. Neither was Jack very calm himself, though his was the anger of embarrassment and disappointed hopes.

"Fine," Jack hissed, "you don't wanna see me, don't bother comin' back." He immediately regretted his words, but they couldn't be unsaid. "Annie, wait. Annie, I'se sorry." But Annie was already walking out of the room.

At the door she turned around. "I've got odder friends here too, you know. Is it OK if I come see dem? Only every now an' den when your majesty permits, o'course." With one final, angry glare, she slammed the door on his protests and apologies.

Y'all, I'm so sorry that it keeps taking me so long to update. I'm just...OK, there's no excuse. But I do have news! Guess where I just got back ffrom? New York!!! Only I didn't see a single newsie. I wonder how that happened...

Let me tell you what I did see, though: WICKED!!! And it was amazing. Beyond amazing. Idina Menzel is just...indescribable. Well, enough gushing. On to my faithful reviewers:

koodles: what would I do without your oh-so-nice reviews? Thank you sososo much!

Sarah: Well, here's my effort to continue. Hope you liked it. I actually have the next part planned out (Oooh! Ahhh!) so the next update should be soon. Actually, you know what? Just forget I said that. No promises on non-procrastination.

Autumn-Park: O'course I won't forget you. I'll be back on the 13th, m'love. Why are there so many apostrophes in this shout-out?