Snitch and Skittery plan to surprise each other with Christmas presents. Racetrack volunteers to help and misunderstandings abound. (1899 Snitch/Skittery SLASH. Humor/Fluff.) Rated for mild slash and language.
I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.
I am making no money from this story. I seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who would pay money to read anything I have written.
A/N: This story has not been beta'd. Revised 06-05-07.
A Very Snittery Christmas
Skittery pulled up the collar of his thin woolen jacket in an attempt to shield himself from the biting wind. The sudden change in temperature had come as a surprise and was destined to be with them until April.
Skittery hated November. Trying to sell newspapers to people who wanted nothing more than to get out of the cold was torture. He had to work twice as hard to sell half the number of papers as he did in the summer. At the end of the day, Skittery was lucky if he broke even. He considered it a good day if he earned enough for one simple meal and the ten cents fee for his bed at the lodging house.
Winter was still several weeks away, but the chill in his bones convinced Skittery otherwise. This was only the beginning of the dark, cold, and depressing months ahead.
Though it was still more than a month away some of the younger boys had begun to talk about Christmas. Those who could remember their families would tell stories of handsomely decorated trees, sumptuous dinners, and presents. But there were no Christmases like that for the newsies. Every year Mr. Kloppman would do his best to make the holiday special. He would use his own money to buy the boys a turkey and fix them wonderful dinner. Then, they would all gather around the fireplace and sing the few Christmas songs they could remember.
Sure, the dinner was good, but Christmas was still just another cold day to Skittery.
Snitch, however, loved the winter. The cold air invigorated him, and he delighted in playing in the snow. He'd run to the park and make fat icy snowmen seven feet tall and then throw himself onto the ground to make armies of snow angels.
Skittery couldn't understand what was so wonderful about getting your hands wet and frozen while playing in the snow. To him, the mere thought of getting snow in his collar and down his back was horrifying.
The only thing Skittery could stand about winter, was watching Snitch enjoy it. Seeing him happy was one of the few things that ever made Skittery happy.
This year, more than anything, Skittery wanted to buy Snitch a present. A real Christmas present. He'd spent hours watching Snitch and thinking about what would make him happy. It was a hard decision to make because just about everything made Snitch happy.
Then one morning, while they were still in the washroom, the answer came to him. Snitch needed a razor.
Most of the older boys had their own razors, while younger boys used the few community razors that were available. These were the razors that were discarded by the older boys when they had saved enough to by themselves new ones. They were dull and covered with nicks, but were fine for the peach-fuzzed faces that only had to shave once or twice a week.
Unfortunately for Snitch, he was past that stage. He had to shave every day now that his peach-fuzz had turned into real whiskers. Each morning he would use one of the old razors, but the shave was far from close. They left his smooth flawless skin with stubble, cuts, and razor burn. Snitch, however, being the kind of person that he was never complained.
Skittery offered to let Snitch share his razor, but the younger boy declined. "A man's razor is a personal thing," Snitch told Skittery. "You need to have your own razor. I'll buy one as soon as I can afford it."
Skittery had purchased his own razor in the local hock shop. It had taken him more than a month to save enough money to buy the second hand instrument. Now, he wasn't sure how he would do it, but he was determined to buy Snitch a razor of his own.
That afternoon Skittery stood looking in the Emporium window. There, displayed right up front, was the most beautiful razor he'd ever seen. The blade was so shiny, it looked like a mirror, and the handle was genuine ivory. It came in a handsome wooden box that was lined in dark blue silk. It carried a handsome price tag as well. One dollar and seventy-five cents. He would have to sell three hundred and fifty newspapers to earn enough money to purchase it. And that didn't include the number of papers he would have to sell, for his living expenses. Skittery figured, that if he worked extra hard, and gave up some of his meals, that he might be able to give Snitch the perfect Christmas present.
Snitch had no trouble deciding what he wanted to get for Skittery. It was something that he really needed. A Scarf. A thick warm woolen scarf. A brown scarf. Skittery looked nice in brown.
Racetrack found Snitch sitting on his bunk and looking at a mail-order catalogue. He was using a pencil, a piece of paper, and both sets of fingers to calculate how many papers he would have to sell in order to earn enough to but the scarf.
Race took one look at the catalogue and instantly knew the answer. Snitch was crushed. There was no way he could earn enough money by Christmas.
Racetrack glanced around the room to make sure that they were alone. "There is another way you can get Skitts that scarf, Snitchy-boy," Racetrack said. "You could knit one yourself."
"Are you crazy? I don't know how ta knit. Only girls know how ta knit."
"Well I know how ta knit, and I certainly ain't no girl," Racetrack, grumbled "My pop taught me when I was just a kid. When my ma died, he realized that he didn't know how ta do any of the stuff she did ta take care of us. He had ta learn how ta cook and sew and do all da stuff that ma did. And he had ta do his learnin' while he was still workin' at the factory. After that, he taught me how ta do all that stuff too. He said that everyone should know how ta take care of themselves in this world. That included learnin' how ta cook, how to sew on a button, and how ta knit."
"If you want, I can teach ya. It'll hardly cost ya anything for the wool, and if you get started on it right away you can have it done by Christmas. The only thing I ask is that you don't tell anyone that I taught ya. I don't need these bummers teasin' me about it."
"Gee, Race. Do ya really think I can learn ta make Skitts a scarf by Christmas?"
"Sure ya can," Race assured him. "Is it a deal then?"
"It's a deal!" Snitch replied. Then they sealed the deal with a good hearty spit-shake.
The next day, after they'd finished selling their papers, Racetrack and Snitch went over to the Emporium to buy the wool.
"Can I help you gentlemen with something?" the sales clerk asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Racetrack replied as he remover his cap and nudged Snitch to do the same.
"My friend here wants ta buy enough wool ta make a man's winter muffler."
"Did your mother send you her to buy the wool?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," replied Snitch. "I ain't got no ma. I'm the one that's gonna be makin' it. My friend here is gonna teach me how."
She smiled at Racetrack looking pleasantly surprised. "You know how to knit young man?" she asked.
"Yep, ma'am I do. My dad taught me. Now, I've decided ta share my talent with my young friend here."
"Very good," replied the clerk with an approving grin. "What type of scarf were you planning to make?"
"Somethin' really warm," Snitch said excitedly. "It's for my friend Skittery. He's always cold. And I want it to be brown. Skitts likes brown."
When the clerk presented her choice of wool to the boys, Snitch almost squealed with delight. "That's it!" he said. That's just what I want."
"That'll be just fine," Racetrack nodded with approval. "Now, we are gonna need some knittin' needles ta make it."
"I have just what you need," she said, rummaging under the counter. "Here you go. And there's no charge. This is an old pair of mine. I replaced them years ago. They've just been sitting around here gathering dust. I've been waiting for an opportunity to pass them along to someone who could make use of them."
"No kiddin', lady? You're just gonna give 'em ta me?" Snitch asked.
"Yes I am," she replied with an enormous smile. "They were given to me when I was first learning to knit. It's only fitting that I pass them on to you."
"Gee, thanks, lady. You're aces!"
The clerk wrapped the wool and needles in plain brown paper while Racetrack helped Snitch count out his pennies.
"Good luck, and have a Merry Christmas," the clerk said as she handed Snitch the package.
"An many happy returns ta ya'self" Racetrack replied as they headed out the door.
Out on the street, Snitch bounced with excitement as only he could do. Normally this would grate on Racetracks nerves, but not today. It made Race feel good to see Snitch so happy about making Skittery happy.
They hadn't gone too far when Race spotted Skittery selling his papers.
"Shit!" Racetrack snapped. "Stick that package inside your coat before Skitts sees it."
"Well, well. Where have you two been?" Skittery asked. "I was lookin' for ya. Ya never showed up ta get the afternoon edition."
Snitch started to stammer, and his face turned bright red. He never could lie to Skittery.
"I was takin' care of some business, and Snitch here was helpin' me," Racetrack answered.
"Business? What kinda business did ya kneed Snitch ta help ya with?"
"Personal business," Racetrack answered, looking Skittery in the eye.
"So, Skitts? Are you gonna meet me for supper later?" Snitch asked.
"Nah, I can't. Unlike the two of you, I got papes ta sell. I ain't got time ta go gallivantin' around the city like some people."
"Okay then," Snitch smiled. "Well see ya back a the lodgin' house."
Skittery didn't reply. He merely grumbled to himself as he went off to sell his remaining papers.
Racetrack and Snitch grabbed an early supper so they could get back to the lodging house before the rest of the boys returned.
Race untied the package and told Snitch to go and hide the knitting needles. Then, after looking around the room, he chose what he thought to be the perfect place to get started.
"Come on with me," Race ordered as he went into the washroom and held open one of the stall doors.
"Why are we goin' in there?" Snitch asked, feeling totally confused.
"You don't want anyone ta walk in and see us do ya? Now shut up and get inside. . . . Okay, now put your hands out straight, like this," Racetrack instructed.
"What for?" Snitch asked.
"You gotta hold the wool while I roll it up. Ya can't use it the way it is now. It'll knot."
Snitch stood leaning with his back against the door while Racetrack sat on the commode rolling the wool into a ball.
Sometime later, Skittery entered the bunkroom and hung his coat on the bedpost. He noticed Snitch's coat and the brown paper lying on his bunk, but Snitch was nowhere in sight. When Skittery heard voices coming from the washroom he went to investigate. There, he saw two pairs of feet facing each other inside of one of the stalls.
"Snitch! What the hell are you doin'?" Racetrack grumbled.
(Snitch and Race are in the stall together?)
"I can't find the other ball," Snitch answered.
(What the hell?)
"Whadda ya mean ya can't find it?"
"Sorry, Race. I had both of them in my hands just a minute ago, but now I can only find one"
"Damn-it, Snitch! Whadda ya mean ya can only find one? Both balls have gotta be there. It didn't just disappear?"
Skittery banged furiously on the door. "What's goin' on in there?" he demanded.
"Nothin," Snitch answered. "We ain't doin' nothin'."
"If ya ain't doin' nuttin', then why is this door locked?"
"Just' takin' care'a some business," Race answered as he attempted to hide the wool inside his shirt.
"What kind'a business do ya need ta take care of in the terlet!" Skittery shouted.
"Personal business," Racetrack replied.
"Personal my ass!" Skittery shouted as he pulled himself up to look over the door. There he saw Snitch, red faced and looking guilty as sin. Racetrack had his back to Skittery, and appeared to be buttoning up his clothing.
"What the hell is goin' on in there? Open this door now, Snitch!"
Snitch did as he was told and emerged looking like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Gee, Skitts," he said. "There's no reason ta get excited."
"No reason ta get excited? Whadda ya take me for some kinda fool? I heard the two of you in there talkin' about holdin' each other's balls. I saw Race puttin' his clothes back on."
Snitch looked at the infuriated boy and started to giggle. "Look Skitts, that may be what ya think ya heard, but believe me, you've got it wrong!"
"Oh? So I heard it wrong did I?" Skittery stormed out of the washroom and threw himself into his bunk.
"Yea. Ya heard it wrong," Snitch assured him, climbing into the bunk with Skittery. "Don't ya trust me, Skitts?"
"Yea, I trust ya. . . . But him, I don't trust!" Skittery snarled, gesturing in Race's direction.
"Look pal," Race challenged. "You don't have ta worry about me. I ain't no cradle robber like some other people around here."
"Why you little . . ."
Snitch stopped Skittery before he could get out of the bunk and go after Racetrack. "What's the matter with you tonight, Skitts?" Snitch asked as he settled himself in next to Skittery. "You're actin' all crazy like."
"It was a long day, Snitchy. The sellin' was tough."
"Did ya eat any supper?"
"Na. I was too tired ta even think about it."
Before Snitch could say another word, Skittery was sound asleep.
The following weeks were rough on Skittery. He got up early, and he stayed out late trying to sell enough extra papers to buy Snitch the razor. In the evenings, he always found an excuse not to have supper with Snitch. He didn't want to spend any money that could be used to buy Snitch's gift. Skittery survived on coffee, crackers and apples.
As the days went bye, both boys were feeling the strain on their relationship. Snitch's feelings were hurt. He was beginning to think that Skittery simply didn't want to have supper with him anymore. At the same time, Skittery's feelings were getting hurt by all of the time Snitch was spending with Racetrack. When Skittery came home each night, he expected to have some time alone with Snitch, but it seldom happened. He was either out somewhere on business with Racetrack, or they were huddled in a corner whispering. Skittery knew that Snitch wouldn't really do anything wrong with Race, but he was tired and hurt and getting fed up with everything.
About a week before Christmas, Snitch decided to ask some of the guys if they knew why Skittery was acting so strange. "I wish I knew what was botherin' him," Snitch sighed. "Skitts sure has been actin' miserable the past couple of weeks"
"How can ya tell?" Blink asked "He's always miserable."
"Blink's right?" Mush agreed. "He's been in a bad mood all day. Come ta think of it, Skittery's been in a bad mood since I've known him."
"Skittery's not that bad," Snitch said defensively.
"A'corse he is," Blink answered. "The only time I've ever seen him happy was when he was with you, but that don't even make him happy anymore."
Finally, Christmas Eve came, and Skittery had saved enough to buy Snitch the razor. He got up extra early to buy his papers and then stood outside the Emporium waiting for it to open. He didn't want to take the chance that someone would buy the razor before he got there. He had worked too hard to lose it now.
Skittery purchased the razor from the same nice lady that had helped Snitch to choose the wool. The clerk wrapped the box in some pretty paper, and then she tied a small red bow at the top. Skittery carefully placed the package into his pocket and went about selling his morning papers.
The selling was extra good that day and before he knew it, Skittery had sold all of his papers. Finally, he had the time and the money to have a nice relaxing supper with Snitch. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the restaurant, Snitch wasn't even there. When Skittery asked the other guys if they'd seem him they said that Snitch had already finished eating and left with Racetrack.
That was the final straw. Skittery stormed out of the restaurant and headed off to the lodging house. He flung open the front door and ran up the stairs two at a time. He found Snitch's coat and hat thrown on the bunk, but there was no sign of him.
Skittery ran back down the stairs to continue his search, and then he heard laughter coming from behind the big overstuffed chair in the meeting room.
It was Snitch and Racetrack. Snitch had just finished the scarf, and he was beside himself with pride.
"That's it!" Skittery shouted. "I've had enough of you two senakin' around behind my back!"
Snitch quickly hid the scarf under the chair and jumped to his feet. "Stop actin' so crazy, Skitts," Snitch pleaded. "Me and Race was just . . ."
"Yea, I know. You was just taking care'a some personal business. Well, you can take care'a all the business ya want from now on. I've had it with the both of ya!"
"Come on, Skitts. Please don't be like that. Let me explain."
"I don't wanna hear it anymore! I don't care. Just leave me alone. I don't want nothin' ta do with ya anymore!"
"Don't be such an ass!" Racetrack interrupted. "Let the kid explain."
"And you, ya son-of-a-bitch!" he shouted at Racetrack. "You keep away from me, or so help me I'll kill ya!" With that, Skittery stormed back up to his bunk and crawled under the blanket. He didn't move again until morning.
Snitch never left the meeting room. He stayed awake curled up in the large chair all night.
In the morning, Skittery went into the washroom as usual. After seeing his expression everyone stayed out of his way. When he went back to his bunk, he found a package wrapped in wrinkled brown paper. It was the same paper that was wrapped around the wool when Snitch purchased it. He'd saved the paper for Skittery's present. Snitch had also saved one piece of wool to tie around the package in place of a fancy ribbon.
"That's what the kid's been hidin' from ya all this time," Racetrack called from across the room. "I was helpin' him to make a Christmas present for ya."
Skittery looked over at Racetrack and then stared at the package.
"Look, Skittery. I'm gonna say my peace whether you like it or not," Racetrack declared. "That kid planned what he wanted ta get ya over a month ago. He worked hard on it . . . Real hard . . . And it took every penny he had too. The kid was so proud'a himself, and you went and kicked 'im right in the teeth. Personally, I don't see why he did it for ya. You're just a miserable son-of-a-bitch, and ya ain't worth it. You don't deserve a good kid like him feelin' the way he does about ya."
Skittery didn't say a word. He picked up the package and untied the woolen bow. Carefully, he unfolded the paper to reveal Snitch's masterpiece.
It was lumpy and it was crooked and about a foot too long. It had a few holes where Snitch had dropped some stitches, and it had bumps where he'd somehow added a few. It was a bit wider at one end than the other, and there was a small piece of twine knitted into the pattern where Snitch accidentally got it tangled with the wool. It was uneven and it was sloppy, but it was brown and it was beautiful and it was the greatest present Skittery had ever received.
"You're right, Race," Skittery choked. "I am a son-of-a-bitch, and I don't deserve ta have somebody as nice a Snitch care about me."
"Well, you'll get no argument from me," Race sneered.
"Where is he?" Skittery asked. "I've gotta find him and apologize."
"I dunno" Race answered with a shrug. "He left about an hour ago."
Skittery quickly threw on his clothes and headed for the door. He stopped briefly to take a look in the mirror at his beautiful new scarf.
Once outside, Skittery stopped to think where Snitch might be? It didn't take him long to realize that there was only one place that Snitch would be. It was the place with the most undisturbed snow in New York City. . . .Central Park.
Skittery ran all the way laughing and tipping his cap to the ladies as he went along.
There, sitting on a bench in front of the largest patch of undisturbed snow Skittery had ever seen, was Snitch.
"Hey, Snitchy," Skittery said as he came up from behind.
"Hey," Snitch said meekly as he half glanced in Skittery's direction then looked back down at his own feet.
"I've been lookin' for ya."
Snitch just shrugged his shoulders.
"I wanted ta wish ya a Merry Christmas," Skittery said, sitting down next to Snitch. "I wanted tell ya that I'm sorry. I know that I've been actin' like an ass lately. I didn't mean all that stuff I said ta you and Race last night."
Again, Snitch just shrugged his shoulders.
"C'mon, Snitchy. Will ya at least look at me?" With that, Skittery took Snitch by the shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other.
Skittery's heart sank. Snitch's beautiful blue eyes were all red and swollen. Snitch had been crying. Worst of all, Skittery knew he had made Snitch cry.
"Snitchy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean ta hurt your feelin's like that. I was just jealous is all."
"You were?"
"A'corse I was. You were spendin' all that time with Race. I thought that maybe you were startin' ta like him more than ya did me. Then this mornin' I found the package on my bunk . . . Snitchy, this is the best present I ever got. It's beautiful!"
Snitch looked up at Skittery. He hadn't noticed the scarf around the older boy's neck. Snitch's eyes brightened just a little, but then suddenly the frown returned to his face.
"It's not beautiful," Snitch moaned. "It's crooked and it's ugly."
"It is not!" Skittery declared. "It's beautiful and it's warm and it's brown. Ya know how much I like brown. Why, I don't think that the Mayor his self has a scarf as fine as this one. And I'm positive that he don't have someone as good as you who cares enough about 'im ta make such a beautiful scarf."
"Do ya really like it, Skitts?"
"Like it? Hell, I love it! I'm gonna wear it every winter from now on!"
Snitch's eyes were now sparkling, and a wide toothy grin covered his face. "I'm glad ya like it" he said.
"It's the best present anyone ever got! Hey, I almost forgot. I got somethin' for you too, Snitchy."
Skittery reached in his pocket, and pulled out the small package, with the little red bow.
"Merry Christmas, Snitchy!"
Snitch stared at the package, but made no attempt to disturb the wrapping.
"Well, ain't ya gonna open it?"
"I can't," said Snitch. "It's too pretty ta open."
"Well how are ya gonna find out what's inside if ya don't open it?"
Snitch carefully untied the ribbon and placed it into his pocket, and then he unfolded the paper and put that into his pocket as well. Slowly, Snitch opened the box and saw what was inside.
"Skittery, ya didn't!" Snitch screeched, with delight. "It's beautiful. I ain't never seen a razor this beautiful . . .But you don't have da money ta buy somethin like this . . . You didn't steel it, did ya?"
"A'corse I didn't steel it! I bought it at the Emporium."
"But where'd ya get the money?"
"I earned it," Skittery said proudly. "That's why I ain't been around so much. I was sellin' extra hard ta save up. That's why I couldn't have supper with ya the last couple'a weeks."
"Ya mean that you gave up eatin' supper to buy this? . . . For me?"
"Ah, it was nothin'" Skittery replied.
Snitch threw his arms around Skittery. "You're the best boyfriend anyone ever had."
Suddenly, Skittery grabbed Snitch by the hand yelling, "Come on!" and dragging the younger boy through the snow.
"Where are we goin?'" Snitch asked, struggling to keep up.
"You'll see."
As suddenly as he started, Skittery stopped in his tracks. Then he let go of Snitch's hand and fell backwards in the snow.
"What are ya doin?" Snitch asked.
"I'm makin' snow angels!" Skittery laughed.
"But you hate the snow!"
"That was before I had this beautiful scarf ta keep me warm. Now, are ya gonna join me or what?"
Snitch laughed and fell backward into the snow.
For the next hour, they did nothing but laugh, hug and make snow angels.
That evening, the boys enjoyed the wonderful feast that Mr. Kloppman had prepared. Skittery even helped him with the dishes. When they were through, Mr. Kloppman and the boys gathered around the fire and sang Christmas Songs.
Later that night, Snitch and Skittery crawled into their bunk, exhausted and happy.
The next morning, Skittery watched as Snitch used his razor for the very first time. The sharp blade was a new experience and he soon nicked his chin, but then continued on proudly. Snitch emerged from the washroom wearing a large smile, and several bits of tissue that he'd stuck to his face to stop the bleeding.
Skittery gently rubbed his hand along the side of Snitch's beautiful smiling face. "Not bad," he declared. "Not bad at all."
Later that day while they were selling they passed the Emporium and saw the nice woman who had helped them with their purchasers. She recognized them immediately. "Good morning, Gentlemen. I trust that you had a good Christmas?" she asked as she glanced at Skittery's scarf and Snitch's nicked face?
"Yes, Ma'am," Skittery answered. "We certainly did." "Yea," Snitch grinned. "It was the best Christmas ever!"
Snitch's razor now rests in a cup on the shelf next to Skittery's.
Tucked away under their bunk is the box in which the razor came. Now, nestled inside the box, they keep one small red ribbon, one folded piece of pretty paper, and one piece of brown wool tied into a bow.
END
A/N: The story kept bouncing around in my head, and writing it was the only way I could free myself.
Thanks for reading. Your reviews will be greatly appreciated.