dances around with invisible partner I could have danced all night! I could have danced all night!

SNITCH: Um, Jockey?

I could have danced all night!

SNITCH: Jockey!

What? Can't you see that I'm busy?

SNITCH: Youse may be busy but we's gotta show ta do. Are you interested or not?

sighs and put invisible partner away in the closet fine if I have to...perky self returns Hello everybody! Back for another chappy? I'm really proud of this one cause it is really long! does a long chappy dance while newsies stare in disbelief Yes, I'm happy! Chocolate covered newsies for everyone!

NEWSIES: look for places to hide in horror

Race, darling, you're up!

RACETRACK: smiles his sexy smile and walks to middle of room Shout outs from Jockey:

Aier of Mirkwood Darling, I totally understand what you mean when it comes to the evils of computers. shakes fist at her lap top Mine takes ten minutes to boot and all that jazz. Anyhoo, you're more then mentioned in this chappy. Hope I portrayed your gurl right. Just let me know if I have to change anything for you. huggles Aier Which chocolate newsie do you want?

Hawk Kelly Boys never learn. Especially these boys quirks eyebrow at the newsies who try to look nonchalant about looking through Jockey's underwear drawer Men! We can't live with them, but would be totally bored without them! giggles and eats a chocolate covered Skittery Yummy! Hope you like your gurl. Let me know if I need to fix anything about her. Chocolate newsie? Which one for you?

Shooter O'Brien I love writing your character. She is so fun to do! I'm glad I could help you become famous joins Shooter's dance I know, weren't the boys so sweet to cry for you. I didn't even use special effects. They were real tears! Honest to goodness they were! holds up scout's honor Here, have a chocolate covered Blink! giggles and huggles Shooter

Mistymixwolf Hey there honey! Yes, I will give you Spot! You deserve it! How about a chocolate covered Spot? How does that sound. You were reading the story during school? shocked not really, I write it during school. Shhhh...its a secret! giggles Huggles to ya gurlie!

Cue Les!

LES: Jockey don't owns any of the Newsies or Hawk, or Accent, or Shooter, or Kitten, or Sweeps. She only owns Dover and Tripper.

Thank you darling boy! glomps Les Isn't he cute folks? Ok, onto the show!

Chapter Six

The merry jingle of the front door's wind chime alerted the girl behind the front desk of the bookstore of the presence of a customer. Her gaze lifted from the book on the counter in front of her to see whom her customer was. Her look of mild annoyance and false pleasantness turned to bright smiles and excitement when she saw the duo stepping into the dimly lit store.

"Hey Shootah! How's it rollin'?"

Shooter rolled her eyes and silently gagged behind her back, "Yeesh Accent! Youse startin' ta sound like yer boyfriend! Youse gotta stop hangin' 'round him so much."

Accent stuck her pale tongue out at Shooter before turning back to her book to put it away. She wasn't very tall being only about five feet tall. Her light honey colored hair was held back from her face by a bright blue ribbon that brought out the blue of her eyes. Her petite frame was dressed in an off-white blouse and dark blue skirt. Her small feet were shod with dark brown button-up boots.

Shooter gave an impatient sigh and tapped her foot as Accent slowly gathered her things and cleaned the desk.

"You 's slowah den a toitle! Move yer lazy butt! I'm starvin' and we's still gotta get da udders!"

Accent gave Shooter an exasperated glare before running toward the back of the store.

"Jist a sec, Shootah. Mistah Mackenzie? I'se goin' ta lunch. Dat okay wit youse?"

A deep, cultured voice resounded from the back office, "Yeah, get out of here, kid! Take your time too. We aren't busy right now. Just be back to help clean up for the evening."

"Yes sir! Tanks for da free aftahnoon!"

She skipped back into the main part of the store with her cabby hat and light shawl in hand. She placed her hat firmly on her head with a smirk toward Shooter.

"Okey dokey. Now we's can go."

Shooter rolled her eyes toward Tripper with annoyance. "Oh, before's I forgit agin. Dis is me bestest friend from Ireland, Aurora O'Moore or Trippah, as she is affectionately called."

Accent's happy, go-lucky attitude disappeared and was replaced by a demure, shy countenance. Her gaze shifted to the floor as she shook Tripper's out stretched hand. When Tripper shot a confused look at Shooter, Shooter just grinned.

"No, ya didn't do anyting wrong. Accent tends ta be shy around new folks. Don't worry. By da end of da aftahnoon, she'll be her bubbly self who won't shut up."

Accent glared at her jabberin' friend before haughtily marching out the door and down the street toward down town Manhattan.

The three young ladies had been walking for nearly twenty minutes before they reached a large, fancy building. Accent was starting to come out of shell and talking with Tripper and Shooter.

Tripper looked up at the large sign that was posted about the entrance of the building.

"Um, Shooter? Why are we at a theatre?"

"Because we's gotta pick up Kitten. Hopefully, she's done wit practice and ready for lunch."

Accent led the trio through a side door that led to the dimly lit backside of a stage. Standing there waiting for them was a pretty young girl about their age and an older woman with bright red curls and in a frilly, pink dress.

"Bout time youse scabbahs got heah!" The girl stood only about two inches taller then Accent with a petite build. Her dark brown curls came to down to her waist and her bangs came to just below her eyes. Her hazel eyes were bright and alive as she stood grinning at her friends. A pale scar stretched itself along the curve of her right jaw.

She wore a pair of tight black pants and a loose yellow shirt. On her pretty head sat a dark green cabby hat.

"Trippah, I'd likes youse ta meet Kitten and her employah, Medda, the Swedish Meadowlark."

Medda gave Tripper a bright smile and a bow while Kitten gave her hand a mighty shake.

"Pleasurah ta meetcha, Trippah! Youse joinin' our little circus den?"

"Aye, I believe I am."

"Swell! Well, Medda, I'll be back before da evenin' show. Maybe we's ken git da boys ta come wit us tanight too."

"All right, that's fine Kitten. Behave yourselves girls."

"Yes, Medda." All four girls answered with angelic looks glued to their faces till Medda disappeared behind a curtain back into Irving Hall.

"Come on, goilies! We's got's ta get Sweeps and Hawk before lunch is ovah!"

Sweeps was in a good mood that afternoon as she stepped out of the well to do home. She had just finished cleaning the house's four chimneys, which meant a little more jingle in her pocket for the day. Things were definitely looking up for her chimney sweep business.

She was so covered in coal dust and soot that her naturally black hair was even blacker if it was possible. Her dark brown eyes were fully seen with the clear rings around them. The formerly light grey shorts, light red shirt, and light brown cabby hat were unrecognizable. The tall sweep brushes that she carried over her shoulder brought out her small stature.

She whistled a bright tone from one of Medda's shows, and a spring was in her step as she made her way down the street toward the apartment she shared with her four other friends. If the past repeated itself today like it had been for the last year or two, the others would be coming to find her to go out to lunch. They would also be expecting her to be at least a little bit more presentable then she was. Out of their entire group, she had the dirtiest job.

As she neared the red brick building they called home, the chattering of several girls could be heard coming toward her from the opposite direction. If Spot, Jack, or any of the boys had been there, they would have called her friends "boids" because of their noise.

The four other girls rounded the last corner, smiles and laughs radiating from them. It seemed like the sun was shining straight down on the four beauties. Sweeps shook her head in amazement at her still talking friends.

"Hey Sweeps! Where's youse goin'? We's hungry, starvin' really. Let's go get Hawk and go grab some food." Sweeps didn't recognize the fourth girl who she had taken for Hawk.

"I'se 'll meet ya at Tibby's. Youse know dey won't let me in lookin' like dis. Go get Hawk and meet me dere."

"Kay, dat's fine wit us. Oh, yeah, Sweeps, dis is Shootah's friend Trippah. She jest came ovah from Ireland, and she's gonna join our crew."

Sweeps held out a hand toward the golden-red haired girl who took it after only a moment's hesitation.

"Nice ta meetcha, Trippah. Welcome to New Yawk, and welcome to da group goily misfits." Her bright white grin made Tripper like her immediately.

"Well, we's will see ya latah, Sweeps. It takes fifteen minutes walkin' ta Sheepshead Bay. See ya at Tibby's."

With that, the two companies split and went their separate ways. Sweeps headed inside the building while the other four ran to catch a passing wagon for a free ride to the races.

Sheepshead Bay was loud and crowded as the four girls tried to get inside without being noticed. Horses and exercise riders were the main part of traffic. Several important races were scheduled, and the stakes were high.

Weaving their way through the pushing and shoving throng, Accent led her troop toward the stables where she knew Hawk would be tacking up one of her mounts.

Hawk worked as an exercise rider for several of the big racing stables who had their horses at Sheepshead. She had been riding since she was able to walk, making her one of the best riders at the races other then the jockeys. It was a dream of hers to one day ride one of the gorgeous beasts to the victory circle as a true jockey.

Right now, she was busy saddling the English Thoroughbred owned by a Mr. Huntington. The horse was a ball of energy as his big brown eyes rolled, and his long ears twitched at the noise and crowds that moved around the grounds.

Hawk stood at five feet three inches. Her skin was a dark tan because of being outside most of her days. From underneath the gray and black checked cabby hat on her head flowed straight dirty blonde hair that reached just past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes shown with impatience and exasperation from behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses. She was at her wit's end with the darn piece of flesh in front of her.

"Come on Dovah! Hold still fer once. Ye'll get ta go aftah dos udders soon enough. Hey! Watch it, stupid!" The large animal swung his hindquarters around to skitter away from the sight and sound of a flapping flag, pinning the small girl against the stall's wall.

Girlish laughter interrupted Hawk's fuming as she attempted to move the horse's butt that kept her pinned.

"Having some trouble, Hawk?"

"Shuddup Kitten! Git dis stupid beast off a me!"

Snorts of suppressed laughter came from the four girls as they pulled and pushed the horse around to get their friend free.

"Tanks for nuttin' Dovah! Tanks ta youse four goilies dough. If ain't for youse, I'd probably nevah gotten him ta move. Come on, Beast. We's gotta get youse ta dat mountin' ring. You four meet me at da sidelines. Accent knows my favorite spot."

With the hurried instructions, Hawk led the still dancing steed down the aisle toward the ring where his owner and jockey waited. Accent quickly led the other three to the track's white rail fence by the starting line.

Tripper was excited! It had been nearly seven years since she had last visited a racetrack. She had missed the sounds, smells, and electricity of the place. Her stomach jumped about in expectation about what was to come.

A breathless Hawk joined the group hanging on the fence.

"Dovah's numbah five. Right in da middle of da pack. He hates da middle, so it'll be a miracle if he gets even a placing. But da stakes are set high on him since he's a favorite."

The girls watched in silent anticipation as the horses were loaded in the boxes. The magnificent beast finally settled for the break. All was silent as if time had stopped for the moment of the breaking bell.

The shrill ringing of the bell caused the girls to jump and the horses to break from their white cages. Shouts and whistles filled the air, cheering the horses onto victory as they rounded the first turn.

Tripper felt the excitement bubble up inside her. "Come on Dover!" She said under her breath.

"Come on Dover! Come on boy! Come on!" Each word escalated in passion and volume as they passed her lips.

The pack of horses rounded the last turn and was headed for the home stretch. Dover was neck and neck with Brooklyn's Sunshine. Fifty feet from the line; thirty feet, twenty feet!

"Come on Dovah! Move yer bloomin' arse!"

Hehe! I love that saying! It's from My Fair Lady! Ok, first person to review gets to choose who does the shout outs for the next chapter. So push that pretty blue button! Jockey over and out