"A'right, so this is what we got," Spot announced as he briskly lighted a match. He cupped his free hand over the cigarette sticking out the corner of his mouth and waited until the end glowed orange. "We were right, boys: Jumper and Tyce are workin' togetha. Noodle, the spy we put in Harlem, got a shit load 'a info for us, and that's the point 'a this meeting."

Tibby's Restaurant was at the peak of its slowest hours; too late for lunch and too early dinner, which was the perfect time for the boys to gather in a booth suspiciously, yet conspicuously, close to the back. Jack Kelly adjusted his red bandana to loosen up his neck as he took a swig of his soda. David Jacobs fished out from his pockets a sharpened pencil and positioned a leftover newspaper on which to write.

"Accordin' to Noodle, Jumper and Tyce are plannin' to call us out to a meeting at that old factory over in Brooklyn," Bolt added, "where they think they'se gonna attack right when we get there. And then, after that, they'se goin' after you guys, Manhattan."

Jack rubbed his eyes for a couple of moments. "D'we know when they're plannin' to do that? Goin' fer you guys?" he inquired.

Bolt retrieved a small slip of paper from his pocket and read the messy handwriting. "This Sunday."

"So, that gives us…" Jack looked above him in thought while one by one fingers sprang up from his hand. "Six days."

"Right. Conlon and I been talkin' this ovah for a while now and we think we got a plan worked out. We're just gonna run it by you'se guys."

Spot inhaled intensely on his cigarette and relaxed within the smoke filling his lungs. He watched the wispy, gray cloud seep out of his mouth and travel slowly before him. Calmed by the decent-sized inhalation, he watched the smoke swirls being blinked out of David's eyes across from him. He smirked to himself and continued Bolt's thought:

"Yeah. So, they'se sendin' a message to Brooklyn tellin' us the time 'a the meeting. Noodle said they're gonna just send a messenger and that he's gonna try to get be it. We don't know when they're doin' that, but since we know about the meeting's general date, we got time to work out a plan. Plus, there's no need to strike Harlem now." He held the cigarette between his forefinger and middle, occasionally pausing in his speaking to take a puff and flick the end of it. "Say they tell us to be there at six 'a clock, right? We go and set up in the factory at four. We wait fer them to arrive and attack them first. Beat 'em at they own game, see what I'm sayin'?"

Jack nodded in agreement, content and satisfied with the idea. David wrote swiftly on an article discussing a review for a random theatre show. He, too, nodded to himself.

"I like this," David said with his head still down. "It's not fancy or complicated. It's simple enough to work."

Spot sat back and leaned against the cushioned seat. "Exactly."

Along the street toward Gabby's apartment, the famous Spot Conlon smirk had returned from hiding and had come back with a vengeance. It was not the smirk that proved the scathing arrogance he once carried, but a smirk displaying the delighted superiority he used to feel. How many other newsies can one name who are seemingly a step ahead of his enemy? According to Conlon, the answer was "none."

The cigarettes filled his pockets and shared the room with this morning's money made. Spot strutted down the street until he passed an apartment with a tiny garden of flowers in the windowsill. How many of those can you find in Brooklyn? With a quick flicker of his eyes in both directions, he stepped to the window and swiped a luscious red rose from the patch.

Just before turning the corner to Gabby's street, Spot carefully stuck the rose stem into his pocket so just the petals were poking out. In his other pocket, he retrieved a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. For some reason on this day, his craving for such a habit was unusually high; he was not sure if he enjoyed the way it relieved the stress, or if he simply was celebrating his freshly stolen pack of cigarettes this morning. Patting around his other pieces of clothing, he noticed he had misplaced the matchbook he was carrying. Muttering quick obscenities under his breath, he looked around for someone who might happen to have a rolled and lighted piece of nicotine.

"Need a light?" a seductive and curious female voice questioned from behind him.

Spot turned around and faced what clearly seemed to be one of the hookers on this street. She had tanned skin, messy, brown curls pinned up in a way that suggested her free lifestyle, and a burning cigarette between her long, bony fingers. Her cherry red lips pulled one corner upward into her blushed cheeks, while a dark, thin eyebrow rose above her chocolate brown eyes. Under any other circumstances, Spot would have wanted more than a lighted cigarette.

The hooker held in her other hand a tiny box of matches. She stepped toward him, and, while maintaining a fierce eye contact, blindly struck the match against the rough cardboard. Spot concentrated on burning the end of the cigarette and took a step back once successful.

"Thanks," he said while breathing a wisp of smoke out of his mouth.

The girl, who was no older than he was, inhaled and stepped so close, their stomachs came into contact. "Anytime."

Spot furrowed his eyebrows at the girl and ignorantly stepped to the side to proceed down the street. The entrance to Gabby's apartment building was now in sight through the crowd of rushing people. While inhaling frequently he made occasional glances up at the sky, which was sunny with several clouds coming in. Yet with the threat of rain above him, Spot made his way contentedly toward his destination. Just as he reached the front doors, Gabby pushed her way out in a hurry with a flushed look about her face. She stopped and rested her hand on her hip, fanning herself off. Spot hadn't even noticed the heat. He breathed a quick laugh and stamped out his cigarette.

"Hey babe," Spot said while taking steps toward her.

Gabby looked over to the left with heavy eyes, and straightened up. A slow smile came to her face as she turned to face him. "Hey."

Spot met her in a tight embrace and held her close to him. "I got somethin' for ya."

"You do?" Gabby leaned back and left her arms wrapped around the back of his neck. "What's that?"

He quickly retrieved the red rose from his pocket and held it in front of her with a light smile. "For you, Gabby Rose."

Gabby's eyes softened immediately upon seeing her gift and her head slowly cocked to the side at its thoughtfulness. "Aww, thank you!" She took the flower and kissed him on the cheek several times. Her smile brightened as she put her hand on her chest, glancing between her loving present and Spot's adoring face numerously.

Spot moved his hands to grip her hips tightly, pulling her in close. "So, ya like it?"

"I love it," she answered, kissing him on the lips slowly.

He slowly snaked his arms around her lower back and picked her up while still in a kiss. Smiling against her lips, he walked around a small circle and eventually let her down so that her back was against the wall.

"Feelin' better from yesterday?" he asked while pressing his forehead tenderly against hers.

"Much better," she replied while looking at him through the tops of her eyes.

"Good." Spot then dove in again for a deeper, more passionate lip lock without any care that they were in very open public. A tiny giggle of delight sprang from her mouth as he kissed his way to her neck.

"Um…Spot?" Gabby said tentatively.

"Hm?" he said between kisses.

"There's somethin' I kinda want to talk to you about…" Gabby told him hesitantly. "And it's, um, well, I just need to talk to you about…something." It was on the tip of her tongue, the secret was itching painfully to come out.

"'Mlistenin'," he mumbled just before planting his lips seductively against Gabby's neck.

Gabby pressed her lips together and she could feel her hands shaking behind Spot's neck. "Good, good…uh…" Say it, say it right now.

Just when she was starting to get it together and work out what she was about to say, Spot nibbled just the slightest on her earlobe, sending pleasure shivers straight up her spine.

"I guess it can wait…" she heard herself say.

Gabby could even feel Spot smirking from where he was. She buried her fingers into his hair and pulled his face toward hers fiercely. He breathed once before hastily being pulled into a hungry, fervent kiss.

"Mm-mh," Gabby shook her head while still locked with him.

"What?

"I, uh," she paused and licked her lips. "I just need to talk to you…badly…"

Spot brought his hands up and held the nape of her neck intensely, leaning his forehead against hers once more. "I'm listenin'." He slowly rolled his head around teasingly while staring at her with big eyes and a slight smirk.

As Gabby took in a deep breath to gather her courage and thoughts, a sudden cloudburst of unusually warm rain fell from the sky and fell on them, gradually increasing in intensity. Both Spot and Gabby looked up and blinked out small droplets. Spot let out a laugh and stretched back his neck to take in the rain. Gabby sighed miserably and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I guess we should go inside then," Gabby said without emotion over the loud downpour. She made her way, partially drenched, out of his arms.

"Wait, wait! Don't ya remember playin' in the rain when you was little?" Spot asked with a goofy smile, stopping her with his arm from going back inside.

Gabby looked at him uncertainly with a reluctant smile growing on her face.

"C'mon, babe, let's get wet." His lips grew into a suggestive smirk while he rubbed her hips.

Her jaw dropped a little; she could not think of anything to say to that. She closed her mouth, opened it to reply, and then closed it back again. A smile formed on her face as the rain poured down it. She tucked her rose into his pocket for safekeeping, and looked back up at him.

Spot stepped back and held out his hand as if asking her to dance. Gabby laughed and placed her dripping wet palm into his, and he pulled his arm back to twirl her around the street. She spun around in the gradually forming puddles and came back into his arms. After a quick embrace, Spot turned to the side and linked his fingers between hers. Their arms glued together at their sides as they splashed around the street like children.

Umbrellas popped up all over the place and provided shelter for those carrying them, and vendors in the market hastily took cover beneath store awnings. The rain fell at a reasonable force; more than a mere drizzle yet less than a beating downpour. Jumping in puddles and fooling around in the rain were Spot and Gabby, out of place between the hurrying adults and small children, as if between two worlds and unsure of which to choose. They made their way up and down the street, occasionally stealing kisses and splashing each other.

At the end of the block, Spot turned and they faced each other, both laughing hysterically at their immaturity. Gabby looked up at him, blinking water from her eyes, and calmed her laughter.

"Aw, look at you," she said as she watched the raindrops slide down his drenched face, and looked into his eyes that seemed to light up with vigor and life. "Baby's just a lil' wet."

"Me? Look at you," he laughed. He brought his hands up and brushed her sopping wet hair from her eyes and face. "I'm right, though, ain't I?"

"Right about what?"

"Playin' in the rain is fun." He held her face in his hands as he tenderly brushed his thumbs over her cheeks.

"Yes, Spot, you were very right."

"'Course I was."

Without hesitating a moment, Spot moved in and kissed her hard, the rain running down the back of his neck and all over the two of them. After several deeply passionate kisses, Spot pulled away and they looked at each other for a number of silent moments.

"I really like rainstorms now," she told him quietly.

"Me too," he responded in a whisper.

Gabby looked down for a moment at her messy, sopping clothes. She wished she wouldn't have to ruin the moment, but if she did not talk to him, she would never say it. Her head still down, she pressed her lips together and prepared to bite the bullet. She inhaled deeply and summoned up her courage. She had to do this, no matter what happened to her; it was time for her to fix the situation. Make everything right again. She opened her mouth and got ready to speak.

"Hey," Spot said as she looked up at him. His face had suddenly taken on a serious tone, even though a sense of bliss was mixed in it. His voice level was low but Gabby could still hear him despite the loud pounding of the rain. Without saying anything, he pulled her into an even tighter embrace and she rested her head against his chest.

"I love you," Spot told her quietly, his eyes furrowed slightly."D'you know that?"

Gabby's eyes opened quickly and widely. There it was. There were those three words. I love you. It was so simple and not over-dramatic. It fit to the moment. It was perfect. Her head told her look him in the eye and explain it all, to come clean and confess everything. But in the few seconds she had to respond, Gabby decided to listen to her heart for a change.

She lifted her head and looked up at him. Without a thought running through her mind at all, she found herself standing on her tiptoes and whispering into his ear, "I love you too."

Gabby rested on her feet again and he kissed her once more. He picked her up by her waist and twirled her around again.

In her mind, she cursed herself forever, yelling at herself and screaming at the top of her lungs. Mistake. That was a huge mistake. I've dug myself into an even bigger hole. She thanked God Almighty, though, that it was pouring down rain, for she did not want the tears streaming down her face to be noticed.

It is a known fact, though, about flowers: if you give them too much rain and not enough sunshine, they will drown. And Gabby was drowning fast.