A/N: I'm trying to make the chapters big so I can keep all your attentions. You better love me for that. And love bitter, too, because she is a pain in my ass and she's the man. Woman. you know what i mean.

Anyway, quick note. To a reviewer whose name currently is a blank, and i am to lazy to go check, the POV of this story is Rose. Sorry if I didn't make that clear!

So. Read, review, and i'll love you forever...

As I scrambled to my feet, a smattering of applause reached my ears. Looking up, I found a knot of people standing on the sidewalk in front of me, staring. A few were clapping, some trying not to laugh, and a couple of girls looked particularly angry. A string of curse words flew from my mouth as I struggled to collect myself.

Not a shred of dignity left and a blush staining my freckled cheeks, I pushed Pete's helping hands away from me. "I'm fine," I insisted, trying to avoid the stares, "really. I'm okay. I have to get going…"

I could hear footsteps climbing the stairs behind me, and could only pray they didn't belong to Mix. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling she wouldn't have found the humor in this situation.

"Jesus Spot, I've heard of fella's knocking girl's off 'a their feet…but this ain't what I think they meant." The voice—a girl's—had a hint of a smile in it.

The owner soon stepped into view. She was petite—no, make that downright tiny–with curly raven hair swept up in a ponytail and porcelain skin. My eyes instantly fell on a scar that curled like a snake down her neck, tapering off as it reached her jutting collarbone. Smiling slightly, she offered me a hand, which I took gratefully. "Have a bit of a spill there?"

I brushed non-existent dirt off of my pants and shrugged. "I'm kinda clumsy sometimes…"

The girl glanced at Pete, who was now hovering in the doorway, then back at me. "Oh right, sure. Who ain't clumsy when they're being molested by Spot Conlon?" The comment was dipped in sarcasm and iced with mockery. Pete took another step away from me, scowling, and the girl laughed softly. "Relax Conlon, I'm just kiddin' around." She turned to me. "I'm Fearless, by the way."

I blinked. "Oh. Um…congratulations? I mean, that's good. It's a good um…quality, I gue—"

A burst of laugher stopped me cold. I turned to find Pete was convulsing with silent chortles. "What's so funny?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips.

"Dat's her name. Fearless is her name. Jesus, Rose…" Pete gasped, leaning against the doorjamb.

I raked hair out of my face and cleared my throat, now throughly convinced that this night could not get any more embarrassing? "Oh. Well, I'm Rose Nolan," I mumbled hurriedly, eager to get out of there, " and I really have to get goin'" I began to walk down the steps, and Fearless caught up to me. "I'll walk with ya. It's too hot to sleep, anyway."

I eyed her, frowning. "Well alright…if ya want."

"I do."

So we set off down the dim street, away from Pete and Mix, and all those horrible skeptical stares boring into my back like a thousand daggers.

A few blocks passed before Fearless finally began talking, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk with impossibly small feet as she did so. "So you're the 'old friend', eh?"

"I'm infamous already?" I wasn't too surprised by that. The Brooklyn Rumor Mill seemed to be in fine working order, same as before. "Wonderful."

"Well," Fearless said, crinkling her nose, "when ya get on Mix's bad side she makes it well known. Very well known."

I pursed my lips. "I didn't do anything…"

"Oh, but you did. You spent a moment alone with the Spot Conlon!" She threw a hand to her forehead melodramatically. "Surely, you two were havin' a hot 'n heavy love affair!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Me and Pete? He's like a brother to me. I'd never…"

"He was like a brother to you last time you saw 'im, right? That was a long time ago. Things change. People change."

I looked over at her, eyebrows knit together. "What are you trying to say, exactly?"

Fearless raised her shoulders. "Hey, I ain't sayin' anythin' exactly. I barely know what's going on between you two. I'm just saying, Mix is only angry because she saw you as a threat." She nodded sagely and continued kicking.

I laughed uneasily. "Mix is crazy. I ain't a threat."

"Whatever you say," said Fearless as she tried to hide a smirk, failing miserably. "But tell me, how did you manage to fall out of the door again? And with Spot tumbling right on top of you like that--"

"Here's my stop," I interrupted quickly, fearing what might come next. The big stone building rose out of the summer gloom and Fearless squinted up at it. "Ain't this an orphanage?"

"…and a convent," I muttered dejectedly, slipping through the bars of the threatening but rather useless iron fence that surrounded it. Turning back to Fearless, I saw a confused expression clouding her face. "I'm a Novice," I explained scornfully, "a kinda…nun-in-training. Well, for now, anyway."

Fearless's face looked like she had been sucking on a lemon. "Christ, a nun? No wonder you came looking for Spot." With a naughty grin, she took a step away from the fence. "Well, it was a good walk. Nice to meetcha, Rose. Maybe I'll see you again soon." With a small wave, she disappeared around the corner.

Sighing, I rested my still pink cheek on the cool metal bar, relishing my last few moments of freedom. My voice rang out clear and distinct on the abandoned street.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

"What have you gotten yourself into?" Becky demanded, yanking weeds with a vengeance from the patch of carrots occupying a corner of the Convent's vegetable garden. I sat back on my heels, wiping droplets of sweat from my forehead.

"I don't know. Hell, I don't even know what to think anymore."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Becky paused to readjust the straw hat perched on her head and glance at me out of the corner of her eye. I shrugged.

"That other night, when he took me to the vaudeville…three weeks ago maybe?" I commenced to chewing on my bottom lip and watched a parade of ants wind in between the rows of turnips. Three weeks was a long time.

"Rose, maybe you should just forget about it," Becky said, her voice dropping a few decibels as an elderly Sister plodded towards us. "I mean, it was good that you saw him and resolved your problems and forgave him and spent some time with him, but maybe…" She expertly avoided my stare. "Maybe it's done now."

I rubbed dirty fingers across my forehead, leaving a streak of brown over one eyebrow. "But what if I don't want it to be done?"

"You need to talk to him again," She said as she returned her attention to the stalks of green shooting up from the rich soil. "See what he says about you…going back. That's what you want, isn't it?"

I turned to stare at her in shock. That was the first time I'd ever heard any trace of bitterness, or anger, or anything other than kindness, really, in Becky's voice. Before I could say anything, she dropped her gardening tools to the ground and stood up with a full basket of vegetables in the crook of her arm. "I'm taking these in for supper."

With that she disappeared inside, leaving me with Sister Anne-Marie to poke and prod and coax our vegetables to grow.

She was mad at me. Becky was angry with me? This was an entirely new, entirely foreign concept that made my stomach turn flip-flops as I stomped up the back stairs to my room. I threw myself onto the nearest bed, raking hair out of my eyes with dirty fingers. Becky really had no reason to be angry. She was being selfish. That was it. She was jealous that I had found my past—Pete and all—and she was still here in the convent. Sure, that front she put forward was all about piety and religion, but really, who could possibly want to be a nun for the rest of their life?

There was a side of Becky I'm sure I had never seen—up until that moment. Now the devoutness slipped away, now I saw the green sparkling in her eyes whenever I talked about Pete. How could I have been so blind?

Well, now the blindfold was off. I was ignorant no longer. I sat up, my sore muscles energized with the plan forming in my head. So Becky thought she could treat me like that?

We'd see how she felt once I was really gone.

Knocking on that big green door of the Brooklyn Lodging House took a bit more courage without Pete standing beside me, as he had all the other times I'd been there, but somehow I managed to lift my shaking hand and tap out a few hollow notes. There was no sign of confirmation from within that my timid knock had been heard. Was it too late? Where they all out already, knee-deep in their nightly adventures around the dark, hot city?

My fist was lifted to try one last time when the door opened up about six inches. "Who's that?"

The muffled question was coming from the owner of one large blue eye that stared suspiciously out at me from the small crack. "It's um—It's Rose Nolan. A friend of P—I mean, a friend of Spot's? I've been here before. Um, a few times."

There was silence once again, that skeptical eye glinting out at me like a diamond. I cleared my throat and was turning to leave when the door swung open wide. There was a girl on the other side, feet set wide apart, arms folded across her chest, a black cap sitting at a jaunty angle on her head. "Rose Nolan? Yeah okay. I've heard all about ya. I think Spot's around. C'mon in."

With a wave of her hand she turned and began to walk, me following like an overeager puppy. I swallowed hard, willing any type of moisture into my Sahara-dry throat. "What's your name?" I croaked, my best attempt at breaking the tense silence between my guide and I.

The girl looked over her shoulder at me. "You can call me Aki."

"That's a interestin' name fer a Brooklyn girl, eh?" I smiled slightly. Aki shrugged and kept walking.

"Well, I ain't from Brooklyn first of all. Secondly, it ain't my real name."

"Oh," I mumbled, utterly defeated, "right."

She didn't seem to keen on carrying on much of a conversation as we wound around the downstairs of the house, looking, I guess, for Pete. Finally Aki sighed and paused by the stairs, eying me over her glasses skeptically. "I guess he might be upstairs…but really, I gotta go." She leaned over to glance at the mantle clock in the adjacent parlor. "You can manage, right?"

I nodded. It wasn't like I could get lost in the place, after all.

"Good," said Aki, sending me a slight smile in my general direction and walking off toward the front door. "See ya."

At that she was gone, and like a cautious mountain climber I mounted the stairs and ascended them slowly. Something about this house made my knees turn weak, and I clenched the banister so hard my knuckles turned white. "Pete?" I called, my voice bouncing down the darkened hallway. I knocked softly on the first door I came across, and after a minute a dark head popped out of the door.

"Who the hell is screaming lik—" Fearless paused when she saw me, her eyes small and puffy from the nap I had obviously interrupted. "Oh. Rose. What are you doin' here?"

I smiled at the familiar face, thanking God silently it wasn't Mix. "Heya Fearless…I was lookin' for Pete. He around?"

"Umm," Fearless glanced up and down the hallway, thinking. "Probably in the boy's room," she said, adding a shrug. I thanked her quietly and continued on my way down the hall, chewing on my bottom lip.

As my hand reached for the doorknob it was flung open, and I jumped back in surprise. Spot stood smiling at me across the frame, hair in all directions. " 'Evening, Rose."

I laughed in spite of my jelly knees and shaking hands. "Pete, how'd you know it was me?"

He shrugged and pulled me into the inky room. "Thin walls. Now, why am I bein' graced wit' your presence tonight?" The room was hot and stuffy and did not smell all to fresh, and I was grateful when Pete sat me down on a bed next to an open window.

"I wanted to talk to ya," I said, folding my hands in my lap. "I haven't seen ya in awhile…"

"Yeah, well, we've been havin' some trouble 'round heah lately, didn't want to get you involved. You could call it a mutiny."

I blinked. "A mutiny?" If nothing else, the Convent had at least improved my otherwise useless brain. "But why would your boys wanna get rid of you?"

Pete shrugged and rubbed a hand through his hair. "I'll be damned if I know." His words were tinged with a slightly defeated, tired tone that I hated to hear, especially in him.

"Well, listen, I've got something important to ask ya about." I leaned toward him, touching his elbow slightly. "I was wondering…"

"Yeah?" The moonlight streaming in through the window gave Pete's already light eyes an otherworldly sort of glow. Goosebumps rose over my skin as he stared evenly at me.

"I was wonderin' if I could maybe um…that is, I mean, would it be alright if I maybe…well, could I come and live here Pete? Become a newsie again?"

My question was met with a surprised silence. Pete cleared his throat. "What about the convent?"

"I need to get out of there. I'm dyin' in there, Pete. Suffocating. I'm done wit the convent…and the people in it." I nodded slightly, looking at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pete swallow hard.

"Well…" He began, only to fall off into silence again. "Well, of course you can come stay. I ain't gonna say no to you, for Christ's Sake."

I looked up, startled. Had he just said yes? I had been to busy waiting for a negative answer and a explaination to go along with it to actually hear what Pete said.

"I'd love to have ya around again, Rosie." His face broke into a wide smile; whatever troubling thing that had darkened his eyes and made his words hesitant a moment before was shoved hastily away. "It'll be just like old times again. That'd be nice." He reached up and cuffed me playfully on the chin, and I grinned.

"Good. I'll be moved in by the end of the week…okay?" I stood up and twirled around the room, practically drunk on the excitement of finally coming home again. Pete, too. I was coming back to him, for good. He stood as well, striding toward the door, beckoning for me to follow.

"Sure. We've got a few empty bunks in the girl's room. Now I hate to kick you out…but we start our days early in Brooklyn, and I need my sleep."

We laughed and joked all the way to the front door. I don't think my feet even touched the ground as I danced my way back to the Convent.