Hello again!

So here's Chapter Two! Out and Coming! I hope you guys like it! I'm kind of just going with the flow right about now. I had some plot ideas and I know partially where I want this to go...so yeah, but if you have any suggestions please suggest them!

Now! To the Second Chapter

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Stormy closed her eyes and her hand immediatley swept to the cheek that she had covered up. She could feel that it had smudged off and it was now uneven, perfectly allowing parts of the hand-print welt on her face to be seen.

"Nothing." She said, hiding that side of her face by turning away.

"Agahn, that shore looks like a lottah nothin." Spot said and cupped her chin in his hand. He moved it so he could see the side that she was trying to hide. Stormy shut her eyes tightly and breathed deeply.

"Who did dis?" Spot asked as his free hand moved strands of black hair out of her face and gingerly touched what he could see of the red, lightly rised hand print.

"No one, can we please move on?" She asked impatiently, her eyes opening. They no longer were fragile but cold and mean with a sense of hurt.

Spot knew there was something going on. Stormy had her nickname for her changing moods so suddenly, sure, but this...this was different. Way different.

"Yah didn do dat to yahself and I know it. Now Storms, tell me dah truth."

"No second option?" She asked with a hard sarcasm. The volumes of her voice chocked him at the sudden sharp, menacing sarcasm that dripped on her question.

"No." He said firmly. Spot Conlon wasn't one to give up. Ever.

"Fine, but not here." Stormy said miserbly. She gave in. She knew he was going to win eventually anyways. Putting things off did no good eiter.

"Okay, but maybe you should fix that." Stormy looked reluctantly back at her house. For a second she thought of going back and redoing her make-up. She shook her head. "No. It's fine."

Spot raised his eyebrows, "yah shore?"

"Yeah, come on, it's a ways to Brooklyn." She said and slipped her hand into his. She used her free hand to rub at her face and try to smear the make up back in place.

"Just take it off." Spot said, grabbing the hand that was frantically running at her face when they were in the streets and out of the alley.

"How? Do you happen to carry make-up remover with you everywhere you go?" She shot back.

"Naw, I ain't like dat darlin', but I know a guy who knows a guy." Spot said with that cocky smirk because he had won that argument, no matter how little it may have been.

"And where is this guy at?" She asked, an eyebrow raised as they continued walking. She wasn't all too sure where they were headed, probably Brooklyn but she was just going to follow Spot for now.

"Dats classified infahmation, doll." Spot said with a grin.

Stormy shook her head with a roll of the eyes. "Most of everything is with you, Conlon." She said with a playful smile.

"CONLON!" A voice unfamiliar to Stormy called out from the crowds of people. For once she actually took in her surroundings. Newsies were in groups everwhere, girls, boys, everybody. They had just corssed the Brooklyn Bridge she realized and smiled. She loved this place.

One boy, about 13 came up. He had short messy black hair and big blue eyes.

"Matty, how's it hangin?" He asked and did the traditional spit in the hand greeting. Stormy scoffed at this and rolled her eyes.

"Pre'y good" The boy started to say something else but his name was called by a group of others who all had their sling shots in hand. "but ' ey... I gotta get goin. I gots sometin to tawk to ya bout later though."

"Aw what? Ya afraid of a lil spit?" He asked holding his hand up to her face, pretending that his motive was to rub it in her face. HE hadn't heard Matty who shrugged and walked away, figuring his Leader would realize he had left eventually.

"UGH! Get away!" She said and let out a squeal as she darted him. He grabbed her around the waist and tickled her a little before he just held her there.

Stormy fell into fits of giggles until they died down and she realized she was still in Spot's arms. She felt uncomfortable...but in a good way.

Is there even a way to feel uncomfortable in a good way? Of course there is. Wait... Oh this makes no bloody sense at all.

Her battle within herself ended as she smiled up at Spot in a coy way. "How about ya let me go Mister?" She asked with an innocent look that she had used oh so many times before.

"Awe, but I caught such a beautyful buttahfly." He said in a charming way with an earnest grin playing with a smirk on his lips.

Stormy smiled and batted her eyelashes, looking up through the tops of them at Spot.

Their playful banter continued for a few minutes before some Newsies came up to the two. "Spot, Jack's waiting for ya."

Spot looked to the Newsie who spoke, he wasn't all that old, maybe ten or eleven. Spot was at least eight or nine years senior to him. "Where? Foah wha?" Spot asked, an arm casually around Stormy's waist.

Stormy remianed still while the group of four young News Boys crowded around, delivering that Manhatton's own "Big Boy" was in Brooklyn for a visit with the Fearless King O' Brooklyn.

"Didn' say why sir. Juss tah tell yah when yah came abou' that he was waitin at yah place." The messenger said with a helpless shrug.

"Huh." He said and pondered for a moment.

Stormy remembered how one time when Spot had paid her an unexpected and not really unwanted (though she claimed it as that at the time) visit he had been afraid of her mother's yappy and annoying poodle. She couldn't help but want to giggle. Brooklyn's FEARLESS King, afraid of a yappy poodle. Suddenly the giggles overcame her and she found herself in a fit of giggles.

The younger boys looked at her and then Spot who shrugged.

"Uhhh. T'anks Foots. I'll take care of it from heah." Spot said and watched as the boys walked away. "Wha in da hell is goin on witchoo?" He asked the girl who was recovering from her giggles.

My God she's hot.

Spot thought while the girl threw her head up in attention. A smug smirk played on his lips as he watched her.

"You...Mom's poodle...Yappy...you got scared...Fearless Kind O' Brooklyn...scared...of...a...poodle!" The memory popped into her head and this sent her into another fit of giggles.

"Oh shuddup." He barked and picked her up bridal style spinning her around a few times. Stormy laughed joyfully and threw her head back as they spun.

"Where're we going?" She asked suddenly aware he was taking her somewhere,

"My place. Jack's dere waitin, ain't he?" Spot asked, his cool demeanor returning to him.

"Yeah, yeah yeah. All you 'Big Boys' gotta meet up once in a while, huh?" She more stated than actually asked.

"Well no shit Sherlock." Spot replied.

"Aw...Poor baby probably doesn't even know who Sherlock is." She said in a mock sad voice with a tint of pitying someone.

"Hey, Doll, watch out...I'm da one carryin ya, ain' I?" Spot playfully warned her.

"Mmhhmm. but I thought I was your Butterfly?" Stormy replied as they reached the rickety cabin a little ways from the lodging house for the Brooklyn Newsies. It was made of old wood but put together so well that there were hardly any slits inbetween the wood to let a lot of cold air in on winter days. Spot kicked open the ramshackle door to reveal a pacing Jack who was clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again. A look of stress and disdain was painted all over him and his brown shaggy hair was a mess from his hands having been run through so many times. Trickles of sweat fell down his forehead and if one looked close enough you could see there was worry in his eyes.

Stormy examined the room. It was cluttered with dirty clothes on the ground, a few empty bottles, the single dresser where most of the dirty clothes were dumped at with some clean clohes hanging out of the drawers. A single desk near a small window with a table a few feet from it. A candle in the center of the table and on a bed-side table near the old worn bed that was up against the wall lit up the room. She shook her head and smelt the familiar smell of whiskey in the boy's room. He had obviously taken up drinking again.

Go Figure.

"Jesus, wha happened to ya Storms?" The boy asked when he caught site of the two. Spot put Stormy down and slipped an arm around her waist. Jack looked to Spot momentarily thinking Spot could have done it but immediately terminated the thought from his mind.

Stormy was jolted out of her examination by Jack's question. Her body went rigid and she froze for a moment before regaining her composure.

"Just an accident." She said and slipped out of Spot's arm and pushed past the two boys and into the washroom that was connected by an old wooden door to Spot's cabin.

An old cracked and dirty mirror barely showed her her reflection. She sighed and was thankful they had running water here. She let some water fill the sink and bent under the sink to look in the cabinets under it for a towel. She was damned and determined that if she did anything she'd clean up this place while she was here.

A disapproving scoff left her lips as she pulled out an old white towel from the disgustingly dusty space under the sink and dipped it into the lukewarm water that had filled up the porcelin sink half way.

It was an old sink, a very old sink and the color was an off white mixed with an off blue. The colored ended up a light blue, almost grey color. It reminded her of Spot every time she looked at it. She took the end of the towel she had dipped into the water and rubbed at the mirror, slowly taking off the dirt and grime.

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Spot was surprised by Stormy's sudden action but didn't stop her.

"What was dat all bout Spot?" Jack asked bewildered

"Nothin' dat concoins yah yet, Jack." Spot answered and this seemed a good enough answer because Jack dropped it.

There was silence for a moment between the two and they could hear Stormy scoff at something in the bathroom.

"Whats goin on Jacky Boy?" Spot asked as he took a seat at the table and motioned for Jack to take the seat across from him.

"We goddah problem Spot."

"Wha happened?" Spot asked, suddenly concerned though his eyes still wore their icey look. Jack usually came to him when they had a situation but he wasn't usually this distressed.

"One o' our boys den got demselves caught up in somfin I'm not shore I can take care of."

"Wha is it?" Spot asked, leaning back in his chair. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "Ya wan one?" He asked, holding out the pack from across the table.

"Shore." Jack said and took a cigarette. Spot threw him a pack of matches and Jack lit up, skiding both the pack and the matches back to Spot.

"Sos... Go on buddy." Spot encouraged.

"We got ourselves a snitch." Jack announced.

"Whadya mean?" Spot asked, his ears perking at the mention of a snitch.

"Well ya know wha wen down da othah da ovah the brigde...somebody's gonna sqeel." The elder of the two said and burried his head in his heads "Spot we gottah do somfin."

Spot was silent, relazition that this wasn't something petty as he had begun to think it was.

"Jacky-Boy, you know what we gotta do, right?" Spot asked finally.

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Stormy inspected the mirror with a smirk of triumph on her face, the dirty towel still in her left hand. "There." She said approvingly, placing both hands on her hips. She looked at her reflection and other than the cracks in the mirror you could now clearly see yourself when looking at it.

"Damn...She slaps hard." She said grimacing. Her fingertips brushed the welt lightly and she shook her head, a sad frown on her face. The memory of this morning still haunted her. Her mother had never harmed her...never. Not even as a child...

Shaking thoughts that she didn't want to think about anymore out of her head she decided to go to work on getting the thick make up off of her face.

Again, she bent down to look for a clean towel. "Spot...you need more towels." She grumbled through clenched teeth as she searched through the cluttered cabinet. Empty bottles, some cologne bottles, some random objects like a discarded tooth brush here or there or a bandage came up but no towels other than tow large ones. Sighing she pulled out of the cabinet and rested on her knees for a moment.

Stormy tried again, pushing everything to one side causing a lot of bottles to clank together several times. She pulled out a single hand towel and rolled her eyes. "I should have gone back home and done it. This is way too much work for one towel." She said bitterly.

Standing up she looked from the towel to her reflection and emptied the sink of the brown water, turning on the water to make sure that there wasn't any dirt left in the sink. She closed her eyes and let out a depressed breath.

"Darlin', Save some foah da fishes!" She heard through the door and laughed.

She put the clog in the drain and let the warm water run over the cloth. She put it to her cheek and began rubbing in circles.

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Jack nodded and sighed, glad he had Spot to help. Brooklyn was always close with Manhatten and they were always there for each other when one or the other ran into a trouble.

"Ya like a bordah to me Spot." Jack said, also leaning back in his chair. He placed his hands behind his head and placed his foot against the table, pressing to list the front two legs off the ground.

"Yah ain't gonna hug me, are yah?" Spot asked, "Cuz...I ain't like dat Jacky-Boy."

"Naw. I ain't gonna hug yah." Jack chuckled.

Water started running and there was a comfortable silence in the room between the two boys.

"Darlin', Save some foah da fishes!" Spot yelled out after a few minutes of hearing the water running. He heard a laugh and a satisfied smirk played on his face.

"So Spot you an' 'er goin' ou' or somefin?" Jack asked, rocking his chair with his foot.

"Naw, we's just friends...dats all." Spot said, but secretly he wanted to say yes. He had always wanted to say yes every time some one asked that very question.

"Da tow of yah have been "Juss Friends" For a long time, doncha ya t'ink?" Jack asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yah...I know Cowboy, I know..." Spot said trailing off. "Believe me when I say I wouldn' mind datin' 'er but I'd prolly end oup givin up mah ladie's man life style, t'know?"

"Yeah...She's an odd broad da one." Jack said with a shrug.

"Yeah, she shore is." Spot agreed and a smile played on his lips. He closed his eyes, he too rocking his chair with his foot.

After a few minutes Stormy came out of the bathroom, a disgruntled look on her face. She had both hands on her hips and her eyes were narrowed.

Spot opened his eyes to this and raised his brow. "Whats up doll face?" He asked, letting his chair fall to the floor. He got out of it after the wood crashed against wood making a rather loud noise. "Ah, it ain't so bad, is it?" He asked, taking her face in his hand and gently running his fingertips over the wound.

His touch sent shivers down her spine and where his fingertips touched felt warm.

Uh-uh I cannot be crushing over Spot Conlon, the Ladie's Man of New York. This simply won't work.

She tried to make herself think other wise but the tingling sensation he gave her kept coming.

"Naw, it ain't as bad as I thought it was." She said finally.

"You shore are pickin up an accent Goily." Spot teased, slipping an arm arond her waist and pulling her over to his chair and onto his lap.

Stormy smiled and pretended to be aggravated. "Yeah, all thanks to you guys. You know, you are a very bad influence on me." She said with mock ignorance and a fake glare. She situated herself to feel comfortable.

"Ah, I know sweets, I know." Spot said and then a smirk fell onto his face, "Ya like dough, ya know ya da."

"Unfortunately...Yes, yes I do." she admitted and a light crimson shade flushed to her cheeks.

"Hey, at least she's an honest broad!" Jack said.

"Yeah, can't have a liah." Spot agreed.

"Oh, damn! I was sup'sed ta meet Davey bout ten minutes ago. I'll talk to yah latah Spot. Bye Storms, I'll see yah 'round Hatty latah sometime."

"See ya Jack." They both replied in unison.

Jack waved and walked out of the little cabin, leaving the two alone.

Stormy's head fell inbetween Spot's head and his shoulders. "Ya know, I been t'inkin'." Spot started, his breath blowing some of her black hair.

"Oh yeah?" She asked, turning her head slightly.

"Why havn' we evah dated?"

The question got Stormy thinking. Why haven't we ever dated? Oh yeah...cuz he;s a horny ladie's man who can't keep a girl for more than five days.

"Because, Mr. Conlon you have a reputation you must keep up, remember?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

'True, true... But! Yah know... " He trailed off, his voice was intriquing and Stormy found herself hanging on his every word. This faces were less than four inches apart. "I'd give it all up." He finished just as Spot's right hand man, Sam, cracked the door open. "Uh...Spot?"

Spot let out an agravated sigh. "Yeah, Sam?" His tone showed that he was obviously inturrupting something.

"Um, I would have waited until later but you have a visitor." The boy said. His voice was full on uncertainty as to what to do.

"Who is it?"

"It me Spot!" A high pitched voice yelled as though the door was closed and three inches thick.

Spot groaned and let his head fall into Stormy's back. Stormy laughed and got up off of his lap slowly. She was facing his the whole time. "And that- Is what I'm talking about." She said as she sauntered out of the room, opening the door to reveal the sandy haired boy who looked very uncomfortable.

"He's all yours, sweetie." Stormy said to the blonde who reminded her of a dog on crack. She was perfect in every way. Perfect long legs, perfect long blonde hair, perfect blue eyes, perfect lightly tan skin, perfect height, perfect. Stormy rolled her eyes at the squeel that erupted from those painted red lips and walked over to the bridge, she leaned against the bridge of face the water.

"Heyya Storms." Stormy looked to her left see a Manhattan Newsie that was very familiar to her, Racetrack Higgins.

"Heyya Race!" She replied with a smile on her face.

"What ya doin' heah? Doncha mommy want ya to stay away from us bois?" He asked teasingly. His eyes saw the slap mark but they only stayed on the mark for a few seconds before they turned to her clear green orbs.

"What she don't know, won't hurt her." Stormy said and turned back to the water. "What brings you to Brooklyn?"

"Pokah game tonigh' figured I'd spend da day ovah heah after I sold all my papes." He said with a shrug Stormy saw from her preifferail vision.

"Yeah, Spot told me about the poker game. Whose all gonna be there?" She asked just have an idea of what to expect. The boys usually had a very scuffs, some got drunk and passed out before the games were over, some got kicked out.

"Well, it's juss a free nigh tonigh so no one special, people from da Bronx maybah, Queens fo' shoah, Manhattan gonna be dere to. And o'course do brooklynites gottah be dere, its bein held heah. A lottah people dough, why ya goin'?" He asked, his gaze fixed her face.

Stormy still looked out over the bridge. "Yeah, Spot wanted me to go with him, so I'm going." She said with shrug.

"Ya know, people wondah why da two of yah nevah date or somefin." Race said as though suggesting they hsould date.

"Well, I'll give you a good reason." She said smartly and turned to face him. "He's got the worst reputation with girls ever to be known in New York and - What?" The look on Race's face confsued her. She couldn't tell what he meant by it. .Ugh. Doesn't he like have a different girl every week?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, but ya know Storms, da two of yah fit. Yah do, everybodahy sees it doll." Race said with a sweet smile.

I want himmmm. Spot I mean. I want Spot...but-his reputation...It's so bad. He's never kept a girl longer than two weeks. I don't want to give him my heart and have it crushed.

"But, Race, I don't want to give him my heart and have him stomp all over it after he sees someone better than I am and goes after her." She said reasoning with herself.

Stormy had had a crush on Spot for a while but had to push her feelings away. She'd seen what Spot did to his girls. He'd flirt, smile, be happy, blah blah blah two days later he dumped her.

"I know, I know Storms but...ya shud try!" He gave her a hopeful look.

"He did bring it up earlier..." She trailed off and Race's face beamed.

"He did? Come on go out with him!" Race pushed her shoulder playfully.

Stormy groaned. "I do not want my heart broken."

"Don't worry, Doll, he hoits ya, I'll hoit 'im." Race said with look on his face telling her it was the truth.

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Okay...so my second chapter is done...what do you think? A review would be nice! Umm...trust me, there's going to be a lot of angst, mysery, substance abuse, and all kinds of things I have planned for chapter three! It'll start getting intersting VERY soon, I promise!