(Disclaimer- Newsies belong to Disney. The plot is our own insane little creation. Ink and Ace belong to LJ and Amanda, and Bernie the boisterous bartender and The Rusty Nail belong to LJ. Please don't sue us…we spend all of our money buying Newsies items on e-bay.)

(A/N: This chapter is about Ink getting settled in and the Newsies take a little detour. Yep. Love it. You know you want to.)

To our gorgeous reviewers:

Angelfish- Well, that's actually part of the central plot so…keep reading and find out! You get your very own muffin! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

antiIRONY- Hope you like this chapter! Here's a cookie, muffin, unibrow, and a patent for a non-working washing-time-machine.

Citty (aka PyroFlameHeart)- Where do we begin with you? No more GOILS. If we didn't love you so much already…well…you wouldn't get this free unibrow. Luv ya lots…and you must enjoy this chappie, or Frankie will bite you.

PyroFlameHeart- Citty…considering the fact that LJ is leaving for camp tomorrow for the next four weeks and Amanda is up at her campground which is two hours away…we worked very hard on this chappie, and you should love us. If we did not know where you live and if we did not luff you completely, we would throw things at you. Maybe we will anyway…Ha. –Grabs leftover muffins and begins to make muffin balls that will eventually be hurled at Citty-

Thanks for your reviews!

All is Fair in Love and Poker

Chapter 3 "Full House" prt.1

By: The.Pelvic.Thrust

"Hey fellas…you gonna hug ya old friend or just stand there starin'?" Jack snickered. He pushed Ink forward lightly, as if she was an item up for bid at an auction.

Ace broke into a grin almost waiting for an invitation to greet her best friend. She pushed Race so that he sprawled into Spot who promptly whacked him with his cane, and hurled herself into Ink. Ink stumbled back and the two laughed for a split second before stopping without warning. They took a step back from each other and began an elaborate handshake spanning about two minutes that finally ended with an exuberant hip bump.

The Newsies surrounding the two friends watched the display in various states of confusion, stupidity, and amusement. Racetrack was the first to address one of the two as they resumed laughing and talking with wild hand gestures, "You'se feelin' okay, kid?" As he spoke, he walked slowly to face Ace and placed the back of his hand on her forehead.

Ace swatted Race's hand away without taking a breath. Ink stopped abruptly and faced Race with a huge smile. "I'd know that voice anywhere…my, my Racetrack you haven't changed a bit!" Her comment was met with laughter, it was true after all…Race had suddenly stopped growing at age ten when he reached 5'4".

As she hugged Race she spotted another familiar face over his shoulder. "Skits? You on the other hand are not the scrawny little boy I left six years ago." Ink walked around Race and stood in front of Skittery. "You still don't know how to use a comb, huh?" She grinned, ruffled his hair, and laughed as he picked her up similar to how Jack had a few minutes ago.

By the time the station clock struck twelve, Ink had just hugged Specs, the last of her reuniting experiences. Jack was just about to open his mouth to introduce David to her, when one of the uniformed men dropped a leather suitcase at Ink's feet then tipped his hat and left. "You been doin' some travelin'?" Jack inquired with a smile, staring down at the suitcase in question that was covered with stamps, postcards, bits of letters, and postage stickers from all around the world.

"Well…" she stopped short, suddenly noticing a head of brown curls which bounced every which way as the owner kicked a pebble back in forth, oblivious to the rest of the group. "W-who is that…friend of yours?" she whispered in Jack's ear nodding toward the boy.

Jack glanced in the direction that she was nodding; he grinned and walked over to him. Putting an arm around him, Jack steered the oblivious boy in question over to the center of the group. "Dis heah is my pal Davey, da walkin' mouth." Jack grinned and looked back and forth between the two before pushing David forward much like he had done to Ink earlier.

"I heard about you in Jack's letters, you have a way with words…he says," she smiled and boldly met his eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you," Dave said gentlemanly. Race elbowed Blink and smirked as Dave held out his hand.

Ink glared at Racetrack for his customary immaturity, but when she received his trademark smirk, she couldn't help but laugh. "Nice to meet you as well," Ink shook his hand and smiled politely.

Ink grinned expectantly at Jack and he nodded his head and turned his back to her, bending down slightly. With a childish giggle, Ink leapt on his back and he lifted her in their traditional piggyback ride. "Six years and six inches later, and I can still lift ya no prob," Jack said leading the group on the trek back to Manhattan. "Mush, will ya get Ink's bag?" He did not expect an answer, as it was more of a command…he had to put Mush's daily push-ups to good use.

"Sure thing Jack," Mush replied cheerily, as he grabbed the bag and jogged back to the group. "You only got one bag?"

"Well, the rest of my things were already shipped to the apartment," she said thoughtfully, resting her head on top of Jack's.

"Hey…how come you'se neva give me no piggyback?" Ace asked Race remembering their journey to the station.

Race smirked, opening and closing his mouth several times. "Well, one- I ain't related to ya so I ain't obligated ta be nice…and two-…(long pause)…well, we ain't related."

Ace rolled her eyes and turned to Spot. "Well, what's your excuse Spotty boy?" she scoffed.

"I-uh-I had a long mornin'… my back can only take so much in one day…"

"You'se sayin' I'm fat or somethin'?"

There was a long pause and Race finally spoke after his laughter died down, "…well, I think he was tryin' to be polite…but yeah."

Ace's eyes grew wide and she pushed him to the ground. "I'm much smaller than you…but I can still beat you'se at poker, and push ya around, give you'se a black eye, and-AHHH!" She had been tapping her fingers as she said her list, and let out a shriek when Race swung his leg and kicked her feet out from under her causing her to join him on the ground. "You'se is gonna pay for dat one Higgins…these are my good pants…"

"Ya have good clothes? Thought I ruined 'em all…" as he laughed at her, she got to her knees. "Oh…you're doin' dat 'towerin' ovah me' thing again…like I said before, I'se taller than you, kid." He began to sit up to prove his height advantage once again, but was surprised when Ace put a hand on his chest and pushed him back to the ground. "What-" he was cut short as she straddled him and began to mercilessly tickle him. That was bad. Racetrack was a guy with a lot of composure…but all that flew out the window when he was being tickled.

She lowered her head so that she was inches from his face. "Tell me how pretty I am…" she said in a sing-song voice, as she tickled him.

"I-no-Hehehehehe-NO-STOP-Hehehehehe…"

"I know you'se can do it…wasa matta witchoo? Oh, I get it…you want me to tickle you more, right? You'se always was a darin' young boy, Racetrack Higgins." She nodded as he shook his head violently.

"NO no no no no no no!"

"Whaddya think you'se are doin'? Get off 'a him. You'se is smaller than me, m'kay? Get it? Got it? Now get the hell off 'a him!" Spot said exasperatedly.

"But-but…he didn't say I was pretty…" she whined, looking at Spot, but still tickling Race. Spot threw his hands in the air and continued on with the rest of the group, after he yanked his sister off of Race.

By the time Ace and Race caught up with the group, Ink had gotten off of Jack's back and was now walking ahead of David and Jack and telling an obviously amusing story to Skittery and Blink.

Race walked in silence next to Jack for a few minutes before speaking. "She ain't Ace…dat's for sure…" Good thing for Race that Ace had joined a conversation with Pie Eater and Snoddy, or he would've had another significant bruise on the back of his head.

Jack nodded.

"And…she's really…friendly…" David offered.

Jack nodded again.

"She's a sixteen-year-old goil," those around Jack nodded at the already known information, "No matta how much we'se thought it would be da same…it ain't. She ain't a little kid no more fellas…she's, well…a goil," said Jack finally as if it actually pained him to admit. Again, the Newsies rolled their eyes at Jack's obvious comment. He wandered around the same phrase but still arrived at the same thought, a thought more complicated than what most picked up on. It was obvious that his cousin had always been a girl, it was everything that came with her being a girl and looking like one that bothered him.

"Well, that's obvious…" Race smirked, cocking his head to the side and watching the group containing Ink infront of him. There were other murmurs of agreement.

"God guys…dat's Ink…don't you'se rememba? The klutzy little thing dat used ta dress in all 'a my old clothes and sell papes with Ace refusin' da fact dat she wasn't a boy?" Jack frowned as if he himself was even trying to remember. "She just looks so different is all. I-I hardly even recognized her. She's just got those eyes…"

"Not ta mention dat she's still got dat 'charming grin' 'a yours," said Racetrack sarcastically. Jack didn't pick up on the sarcasm but nodded and kicked a rock in front of him.

"Hey, ya know, at least it's Wednesday right?" David said trying to change the subject.

"So…what's dat gotta do wit nothin'?" Jack inquired sounding much more like his usual self.

"Dinner at my place, remember? Of course, Ma will want to meet Ink and all…and she's welcome from now on if she wants,"

"Welcome for what?" Ink asked turning around and walking backwards, the heels of her worn leather boots clicking pleasantly. There was a lapse in her conversation with Blink and Skittery, and she noticed her name being uttered behind her.

"Well, ya see, Ink, Davey's family invited me ta dinner a month or two ago, and since then, they just can't get enough 'a me, I guess. It's become sorta a tradition, so I go to his apartment every Wednesday at seven and there's nutin' like it. His mudda is da best cook and there's always somethin' ta celebrate. His little brudda is always breakin' into song or sayin' somethin' he shouldn't. But the best thing is when his mudda takes out da-"

"Hey, I'm hungry. Anyone feel like stopping to eat somewhere?" asked David hastily. Immediately everyone began to realize just how hungry they were, much to David's satisfaction. Spot began to name off places where they wouldn't get punched for walking in to, places where they could get alcohol even though they were underage, and even one that would allow free meals for anyone who could beat the bartender at poker. Race grinned and took the beat-up cards out of his back pocket, shuffling them as they turned down a shady street.

Jack whispered the rest of what he was going to say to Ink with a goofy smirk across his lips, "-photo book. There's only a few family photo's since they're expensive and all, but it's da stories dat his parents have dat are real funny. I'll tell ya, I still can't get enough 'a those embarrassin' Davey stories," The last part he said louder, causing David to tinge pink, "They get betta and betta every week," He finished, returning to a whisper.

"Hey Jackie-boy, when you'se finish eatin' at Dave's how'se about givin' us all a tour 'a da new place. Then we should christen da place wit a poker game," Race had a dreamy expression on his face, as though a poker game was somehow holy, and that Jack should only be so lucky as to accept his suggestion.

"I'd be honored Racetrack Higgins," Jack said mockingly in a dignified voice before breaking to laughter. Race shrugged and seemed unfazed as the group neared the end of the shady street and stepped into the scorching sunlight. Spot shielded his eyes with his hand and passed by the docks, heading up a small hill toward what looked like a rickety shack.

When everyone finally joined Spot at the top of the hill, they found that they were standing in front of the short building (if one could call it that), that stretched back much further than its initial appearance had let on, giving it the size of a small restaurant. It seemed to be made of many different types of wood nailed together (no doubt by someone highly drunk), and never painted, but discolored by the salty breeze from the harbor. There were various distorted fishing supplies strewn on the front lawn, and a crooked sign hung by the door reading "The Rusty Nail" in chipped black paint. The door in question was crudely made, hardly fit in it's frame, and there was a large jagged whole where the doorknob should have been.

To avoid touching the door which was covered in a slimy green substance like the rest of the building, Spot pulled his cane out of his belt and pushed it against the door which opened on contact. David noticed a light knocking noise on the other side of the door but ignored it as they all entered the restaurant. Once again, the shack surprised them. Mush opened and closed his mouth several times and Skittery blinked his eyes profusely.

A thin cloud of smoke hung over the candle-lit room which housed about ten velvet booths around polished wooden tables, and on the far side was a long bar with glittering glasses and hundreds of bottles. The place had an air of rough elegance, but as the newsies gazed around, they saw no one dressed any differently than themselves. Only four or five tables were occupied, all by people engaging in nothing out of the ordinary. Several people played with worn cards, laughing every so often with a cigarette dangling precariously from their lips, while others simply chatted over a meal or a cup of coffee.

"Welcome to 'The Rusty Nail', gentlemen," Spot grinned gesturing to the place, as he was quickly kicked by Ace, "…and ladies 'a course." He strolled lazily forward a few steps before yelling over the pleasant chatter, "HEY BERNIE! Got a couple 'a friends wit me!" he yelled toward the back of the building.

Suddenly David let out a yelp and jumped away from the door. A knife had gone whizzing past his elbow, joining several others on a roughly painted target on the back of the door. "Sorry Kid!" came a nasally voice from the bar. "Don't stand in front 'a da target, huh?" he chuckled to his friend, taking a large swig of an impossibly gigantic mug. David looked mortified and ducked behind Jack.

"Anyone else who chooses to endanger my life today please notify me beforehand!" David said earning laughs from those closest to him.

A portly bald man came around the bar wearing an apron and broke into a grin when he saw Spot and Ace. "Ah 'ello my darlings! AH such beautiful company…enjoy yourselves! Take the booth in the back! OH how good to see you!" Bernie's unusual boisterous accent filled the room with an odd pleasantness, as he kissed Spot and Ace on both of their cheeks, giving the group an appraising grin before waddling back behind the bar.

"Who was-" Skittery began.

"My uncle," Spot interrupted, "Dis place just opened a week ago, but he's been plannin' foreva. He told me ta bring some friends around for lunch an' he wouldn't charge us. His way 'a showin' Ace an' me he cares, I guess." Spot finished. Wiping his cheeks, he walked to the back of the restaurant to a particularly big booth lit with several large candles in the center of the table.

When they were all settled in the booth, they picked up menus and noticed that the prices were about the same as at Tibby's, but The Rusty Nail had three or four times as many selections.

"So what's wit da outside 'a dis place?" Blink asked curiously as he swatted at Skittery's hand. Skittery was currently passing his index finger through the flame of the nearest candle, his mouth was slightly agape, and a look of queer fascination shone in his eyes.

"Well, my uncle had a restaurant jus' like dis but, ya know, better on da outside. He got real mad when all 'a these 'fat cats' came from across town and took advantage 'a da low prices and took over da restaurant so dat none 'a his friends were there no more. They kept talkin' trash about his friends 'an all 'a da newsboys an' holdin' huge parties there wit so much clean up for Bernie and his workers afta. All 'a his workers deserted him since they couldn't take da pressure, extra hours, and being made fun 'a by da rich guys. So, he decided ta open up a place dat only his friends would know about an' dat only da newsies would be curious enough ta check out. You know my boys, always looking for an abandoned place to take a goil for some privacy."

"That's nice…" said Skittery distractedly, plunging his singed finger into his soda that just arrived.

"Jack, switch seats with me, will you?" whispered David urgently.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why Davey? If you're nervous about being next ta Skits when he's near fire, I don't think you'se gotta worry," replied Jack dismissively, gesturing to Skittery who was alternating between blowing on his finger and glaring at the candle as if it was somehow taunting him with its constant flickering.

"It's not that…t-there's a dartboard above my head…"

(A/N: Well that's it for the next month since LJ is off to camp tomorrow for four weeks. Expect Part 2 of "Full House" in about five weeks. Thanks for reading! Free pinecones from Vermont for anyone who reviews!)