Disclaimer: It kills me to admit this. But I don't own Newsies. *sobs* I write this story simply to express my adoration of said movie. The only character that belongs to me is Wren/Rachel. **********

Merle "Spot" Conlon gazed at his guests with a critical gray-green eye. He was fond of Jack Kelly and pretty fond of David Jacobs. His gaze stopped on Wren, Rachel Rhodes. No one knew what her real last name was, the Manhattan boys had just tacked one on the end for the sake of being there. Spot had heard the story when he'd first met Jack and Wren as they were selling papes just outside of Brooklyn territory. He hadn't been the leader of the rag-tag newsboys then. Neither had Jack, even unofficially. Now the two stared at each other, sizing up their opponent. Not that they would either of them win. They were evenly matched. Jack was strong and lithe but Spot was fast and knew how to use that speed along with his well- hidden strength.
"What brings youse all da ways out here, Kelly?" the younger newsie leader asked at last.
"We'se been havin' some problems with da Bowry," Jack replied easily, adjusting the brim of his cowboy hat.
"What're dey up ta now?" Brooklyn asked with a grimace.
"Same as always," Davey said. "Startin' fights with the boys, disruptin' our routes and our business. Last night they hit the Lodging House, toilet paper and trash everywhere."
It had actually been a year since either boy was actually a newsie but no one present cared. These were the two boys who had led the Strike. Besides they still sold papes on their off days, mostly to teach Les and Wren how it was done. Jack and Davey both held regular jobs now. Jack was a writer over at the Sun. Actually he was an apprentice to Denton now but he was working his way steadily up the ladder. And Davey helped his father with a man's clothing store on Sixth that was doing quite well, as the newsies would constantly sneak flyers into the papers advertising the shop. Davey didn't know about that helpful push though.
Spot looked at Wren for confirmation. It wasn't that he didn't take Jack and Davey at their word but, well, they just weren't newsies anymore. They weren't out everyday even though everyone would run to Jack with their problems. Wren nodded firmly and jerked her head back at Jack who was in the middle of speaking.
"We just ain't got the numbers or strength ta take on a buncha bullies like them," the young man was saying. Rachel agreed with Jack. She nearly always agreed with him. Jack was older than her by three years and he had so much experience, Rachel wondered why he hadn't gotten off the streets faster. Not that mattered, the past was the past and nothing was going to change that.
"So what? Ya want I should talk to'em?" Spot asked after a moment's thought.
"Would ya Spot?" Jack asked earnestly. "Me'n da boys'd really like that."
Spot nodded, his usual smirk in place, saying that he would go to the troublesome group and work something out, or at least get to the cause of their unrest.

**********

Rachel looked up from book as someone knocked on the room she kept in the Girl's Lodging House. She glanced over at the pieced together clock, a gift from Specs and Snoddy last Christmas.
"Come in," she called at last.
Racetrack came in and plopped himself on the end of her bed, tipping her book so that he could look at the cover. He made a face when he realized it was just Shakespeare.

"Why's ya so in love with this Shakespeare-y guy anyways?" he asked around a sneer.
"He writes beautiful stuff Race." Rachel flipped through the book until she came to the page she wanted, "Come gentle night, come loving black-browed night/Give me my Romeo, and when he shall die/Take him and cut him out in little stars/And he will make the face of heaven so fine/That all the world will be in love with night/And pay no worship to the garish sun."
Race looked at her for a moment then blinked. "Yeah."
Rachel rolled her eyes at Race. "So why are you bugging me anyways?"
"I gots bored, ya mind?" came the muffled reply. Race had buried his head in the mattress.
"More likely you started losing and got miffed," teased Rachel, poking at the Italian boy.
Race spared her a hot glare before snorting in contempt and turning back to scrutinize the sheets.
"Ok, say maybe it's more than that. Ya wanna talk about it?" Rachel asked at last.
"Yeah, Wren, I do," Race said in surprise. He sat up and regarded her. Rachel set her book down so that she could give Race her full attention. "Well, ya sees, dere's dis goil I sorta been lookin' at I guess. She's a looka, Wren, I'll tell youse. She's curvy an' all blue eyes an' blon' hair. She laughs at all mah jokes and she smiles at me like. I dunno, it's like I'm the centa of'er attention ya knows?"
Rachel smiled in amusement. It wasn't often that of all the boys, Race came to fill her ears with the talk of girls. Race tended to pay more attention to his poker game than the girls that gave him the eye. And despite his scrawny appearance, Rachel had often noted that girls and women gave him that hungry look like they'd just seen a full course meal or something. Rachel shook her head wryly.
"Ya know what Race?" Racetrack looked up at her. "Ya should tell'er how ya feel. She may just feel the same."
Race looked as though the thought had never occurred to him. He shot to his feet, planting a sloppy kiss on Rachel's cheek before bolting out the door making it protest at the abuse. She heard his steps crash down the stairs as he raced out into the New York evening.

**********

Rachel looked up as she heard someone taunting her across the street. She was walking back to the lodging house from visiting a friend of hers who was sick at home. She spotted the source of the call standing in the shadow of an alley coming up. They were three tow-headed boys ranging from it looked like ages fourteen to eighteen. Rachel stopped, looking around and hoping that they were talking to someone else. The street was empty but for her and the cat-callers. She shifted her cap on her head and eyed the boys suspiciously as she crossed to the other side of the street. Thankfully the boys did not follow her and she sped up.
She glanced back to find the boys crossing the street towards her. Rachel gulped and began to walk faster, nearly trotting. The boys began to speed up as well. Rachel looked back as she began to jog. The boys weren't running but they were still gaining on her. She cursed to herself and broke into a full run. She glanced back again and was caught off guard as a fourth boy stepped in front of her from the shadows. He caught her arms before she fell and she looked up into the leering face. His buck- toothed smile made her want to gag as she struggled to break free. The other three boys approached with similar twisted smiles on their faces.
"Leggo!" she cried, trying to kick at her assailant.
"This'uns a li'l spitfire, she is!" crowed the oldest looking boy, pulling at her cap. Rachel's dark braid fell down her back and she yowled in pain as one of the boys grabbed it, yanking hard.
The boys laughed. Rachel reached out and scratched the buck-toothed boy's face. He cursed and let her go as he covered his wounded face. The remaining boys were anything but happy with her actions. The advanced and began to pull at her limbs. She began screaming and struggling against the more powerful males. Someone kicked her knees out and she collapsed. Another boy lashed out with a hand and his open palm connected loudly with Rachel's cheek. She was flung aside like a rag doll. Before she had hit the pavement the abuse had started again. She felt something break inside her and began coughing and wheezing.
Footsteps rang against the pavement. Her abusers parted enough for her to see Jack, Mush, Blink, and Davey rushing towards them. The assailants scattered, running with their tails tucked between their legs. Jack and Blink took off after them while Mush and Davey stopped to attend to the sobbing, coughing, bleeding Rachel.
"Wren?" Mush called softly, gripping her shoulder as gently as he could. "Youse ok?"
Wren tried to shake her head but couldn't manage it and instead began to cough. She distractedly noticed the blood that was starting to smear the pavement.
"Shit!" Davey muttered as he picked her up as gently as he could. "We need ta get her to a doctor, now!"
Rachel wanted to protest, to claim to be fine but as Davey began to run she suddenly couldn't do it. Her head lolled against Davey's chest as she struggled just to breathe through the pain that flared from her ribs.