"Jack, what exactly are we supposed to do in Brooklyn?" Elise said with a pout, as she attempted to make herself comfortable on a bunk. That was no easy task lately, with her all-too-conspicuous abdomen threatening to take over the world.

"Hell, Elise, I don't know." Jack scrubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head in exasperation. "Work, make friends, play nice with the other girls that live there."

"We don't know anyone there."

"Which is why part of your job is to make friends."

"My newsies're all pretty good about lettin' new folks in," offered a boy who was small in stature but big in attitude. "A few of 'em might be a little standoffish, but once they get to know ya, they're okay."

"The thing is, Spit," Penny began.

"Spot."

"The thing is, Spot," she rolled her eyes and then continued, "we have a home here. We have friends here, we almost have a family. We have people who take care of us and people to take care of. And now we're being suddenly uprooted."

"There's nothin' more we can do for ya here, Penny," Jack sighed and lifted his hands defensively when Penny turned fiery eyes on him. "We ain't got room for you, and we sure as hell don't got room for a baby. 'Sides, what're you gonna do when that baby gets here, anyways? None of us knows how to raise a kid, much less deal with one."

"And I suppose, what with there being girls in Brooklyn and all, they'll automatically know more about it?"

"No," Spot interjected, trying to be as helpful as he could in such a delicate situation. "Guy that runs the place's got a wife, an' a couple'a kids. We had a girl once who was in Elise's sitch-ee-a-shun, an' the missus was real helpful 'fore the girl moved on."

"Lovely." Elise pushed her hair back from her face, stress showing unmistakably in her eyes. "And what of the questions people will ask?"

"Newsies don't ask questions." Jack and Spot looked at one another, shaking their heads.

"Everyone asks questions. An unmarried girl with a baby? It's going to pique someone's interest. Who's the father, how can you stand to show your face in public, et cetera, et cetera." The dark-haired girl stared expectantly into Jack's face, which was unsettling even for the unshakable leader of Manhattan.

"Well... uh," Jack bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "If anybody asks, you're my girl, that's my kid." This statement drew astonished stares from the small group in the room. "And if anybody says otherwise, they got me to answer to. So, okay? You're my girl."

"Okay, Jack."

Crutchy hobbled up the stairs, carrying a flower in his free hand. His intentions of giving it to Elise, however, were quickly shattered as he caught the tail end of the conversation through the closed door; as his smile faded, he decided he'd be better off in the common room downstairs.

A/N: This chapter is really short, I know, but I think making it longer for the purpose of taking up space would be a bad idea. I think it needed to be short. I bet you thought that the Jack/Elise/Crutchy storyline was dead and gone, but HA! You were wrong, my friends! It's baaaack! And with a vengeance! Ahahahaha. This should be eeenteresting. I feel like a mad scientist, and I'm not entirely sure why. Anyway, off I go to write another chapter, either for this fic or my other one (whichyoumostdefinitelyshouldreadRIGHTNOW)... please R&R, and enjoy! -Layne