After what happened between Pete and I in the kitchen, things changed. Again. It seems to me, now, that that's all life really is: change after change after change. Just as things are going well and you're happy and content, it disappears, slipping out between your fingers like so many grains of sand. Now this change, like so many others in my life, wasn't for the better.

Pete and I did not fall together into some passionate, heated relationship after the kitchen incident. Hell, what we had wasn't even lukewarm. Pete kissing me turned my world positively upside-down, and I panicked. I avoided him to the best of my ability, finding refuge from his inquiring gaze in dark alleyways and the Lodging House roof, among other strategic, out-of-the-way places. And trust me, it wasn't an easy feat to elude Pete Conlon. It was like he was everywhere, all at once. Up and down, left and right, around every corner waiting for me, waiting to begin the conversation I knew would eventually have to come between us, waiting to touch me with those hands and look at me with those eyes and make me fall to pieces in front of him, just like I always did. Just how I hated to do.

In time I became the resident hermit of the Brooklyn newsies, fearing that if I went out it would simply give him another chance to try and corner me. Besides, my newspaper hawking skills were sorely lacking, and I didn't have enough money to go drink it away in some seedy bar like the others did.

My plan seemed to work for a few weeks, and work well. I avoided Pete and Pete…well, I think eventually he got the hint, and as much as he didn't like it, he left me alone too. But then I let my guard down. And Pete saw the crack in my defense and took advantage of it, just as he always had done with everything else.

It was freezing out on the roof, yet there I remained, defiantly swinging my legs off of the edge, staring out across the clear January night, a stubby cigarette clenched between two fingers. My thoughts were playing a rousing game of leapfrog; jumping from the kiss to the convent to Becky and Hades, then to Mix to Jimmy and everything in between, when the sound of footsteps, assured and steady in their path towards me, echoed across the empty space.

A moment later Pete sat down beside me, teeth chattering. "Christ Rose, it's two-fifteen in the morning. What the hell are you doing?"

I shrugged, nonchalantly shifting over some. Space. Yes, that's what I needed between me and Pete. Lots and lots of space. "Ain't tired…"

"It's freezing out here," Pete returned, frowning as he gazed out over his kingdom, a mass of menacing shadows and darkness despite the bright, full moon above us.

"I don't mind."

There was silence. I took the opportunity to take another drag of my cigarette. I could see Pete frowning out of the corner of my eye.

"Since when do you smoke?"

I shrugged. "Since a little while ago. That a problem?" I congratulated myself on the steadiness of my voice. I sounded almost downright bored by the conversation

"No." He sat back on his palms, sighing. "Rose…"

Shit. Here we go. I could feel the beginnings of a long and painful conversation in that little four-letter word. "Yeah?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

I stiffened slightly. "I'm not avoiding you." Jesus, I was an awful liar.

"Don't lie to me, Rose. I don't need to worry about you lyin' to me, of all people."

Thoughtfully I considered the glowing orange embers at the tip of my cigarette. "Okay. Fine. I'm avoiding you."

"It was that kiss, wasn't it. In the kitchen…the night Mix left?" He said it as if I might have forgotten it. As if I ever could.

Words refused to form. My tongue lay like a useless, fat slug in my mouth. I simply nodded, swallowing hard and flicking away the butt that had since gone dead in my fingers. Pete moved closer to me, and in a flash of bravery I turned to face him, hoping my expression was unreadable. "Was it really that bad?" He asked, a shadow of a smile playing across his face. I wretched away from him sharply.

"Stop it, Pete. You know perfectly well that it wasn't your kissing skills that made me…" I paused. Made me what, exactly? I couldn't even really tell for sure. Scared? Happy? Angry? Nervous?

"…Uncomfortable." I finished with a little sigh. There. That was at least sort of neutral, sort of safe. Maybe he wouldn't question it.

Pete paused, considering this. "I didn't think…I mean, we've known each other for so long, I figured it'd be sorta…expected. Hell, haven't you thought about it? Ever? I have," he added, after a moment.

I couldn't honestly tell him that I hadn't. He would see right through me if I tried to lie again, anyway. So I sat in silence again, hugging myself for warmth.

"You have," said Pete fiercely, answering the question for me. "I know you have. So what's the matter? Why are you running away from me?"

"It was just…strange." I whispered, feeling oddly woozy. My fingers wrapped themselves around the edge of the roof, holding on for dear life. "You and me, kissing?" I shook my head. "Didn't it…bother you?"

"Bother me? Not really." He paused for a moment. "Okay, maybe it was a little strange. But good strange, right? Good, I-want-it-to-happen-again strange?"

I looked up and was startled to find Pete grinning at me. Did he think this was funny? Did he not realize the absolute torment that that one single moment had caused me? Suddenly infuriated, I leapt to my feet. "I'm not some stupid Spot Conlon devotee that melts into a puddle every time you send a smile my way, Pete. For Christ's sake, give me bit more credit than that."

He scrambled after me as I stormed away, fuming over the fact that really, he had hit the nail right on the head. How could he have known me so well and yet to me, he remained an enigma? That was unfair. Completely and utterly unfair. "Rose! Rose, hold on. Wait a second, will ya? I'm sorry, okay? I was kidding…"

My hands were on the window frame, tugging it open, when he caught up to me and gently seized my wrists, twisting me round so we were face to face, and far to close together for my liking. "I don't want it to be like this between us anymore, okay? I miss not spending time with ya. That kiss was…I don't know what it was, and I don't know where it came from, Rose, but I liked it. It felt right to me…and I wouldn't mind it happening again."

I blinked at him, speechless. "A-again?"

He nodded, a smile creeping back onto his face. "Yeah. You know, if it ain't to…uncomfortable for ya."

I tried to tug my hands away from his grip, scowling. "Pete! Don't make fun of me—"

He chuckled a little, pulling me closer despite my protests. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I won't make fun of you anymore, okay?"

At that very moment I made the unnerving discovery that my muscles were slowly transforming into jelly as our proximity increased. He wrapped strong arms around me, and leaned forward, eyes dropping closed. Jesus, I thought, not again.

Quickly I ducked my head, and his puckering lips met nothing but cold air. I could help but smile a little as he opened his eyes and glared at me. "Rose! Jesus Christ! What is it? What are you so afraid of?" He loosened his grip on me slightly, frowning. "Didn't you tell me that you weren't afraid? What happened to that girl, huh?"

It was a trap, and he had set it perfectly. Of course I was going to defend myself. He knew me far to well.

"I'm not afraid!" I contended, banging one fist into his chest. "Why would I ever be afraid of you, anyway? Arrogant jackass." There was silence for a moment between us, and I knew that I had been caught. Cursing inwardly, I heaved a huge sigh. "Look, I'm sorry Pete. It just…threw me off guard. I wasn't expecting you to go and kiss me. Ya didn't even warn me. But…" timidly I touched his cheek with a few fingers. "Maybe I can get used to it. Maybe."

The frown on his face vanished, replaced now by a slight smile. "Maybe's the best I'm gonna get now, ain't it," mumbled Spot with a grin, pulling me close once again.

I surrendered to his insistent lips. What else could I do? This was Pete. And now he was mine, all mine. Forever.