Chapta Nointeen

Disclaimer: I ain't ownin' Newsies or "Ebudae."
A/N: Yeah! They finally got together, what we've all been cheering for! WOO! Read on now. Song in this chapter, or a part of it. (Ebudae)
Ali crept up the stairs to the attic where Race was lounging around. She had another surprise for her boyfriend and wouldn't pass up a chance to see that cute, adorable scared expression he got when she pounced him.

Their date yesterday had been awesome, or, at least, she thought so. He had taken her to Irving Hall to see the plays

She stepped on a creaky board and froze. It was about seven, and she knew he wasn't asleep, so she had to be super careful while carrying out her attack. Reaching the top step, she saw Racetrack, lying on his stomach, reading something. She tiptoed over and stood above him, holding her breath. He didn't notice. Not even look up.

With a "RAWR!" and a jump, Racetrack spun around in fright just as Ali landed on his chest. She laughed and he tried to breathe, before pulling her up to meet his eyes.

"Wha the hell ya think ya doin'!" he cried, but his eyes were playful and carried a twinkle which read something Ali could not understand. He took her chin with his hand and pressed her mouth onto his in a greeting kiss, which was quickly turned into something else. She kissed him back, praying she wouldn't start laughing and screw it all. He rolled over, with most of the power, and, like she had feared, in their parting, she started snickering. He stopped and raised his eyebrows.

"Wha?"

"You look funny when you're scared."

"Thank ya."

"You also look funny when you kiss."

Race looked at her like she was an alien. "Who da fuck keeps dere eyes open when dere kissin'?" he asked, confused. Ali laughed, and, forgetting his seriousness, joined her.

After a moment or so, he went over to the mirror and began fixing his touseled hair. "So," he asked, combing an annoying piece behind his ear, "'Side from just me bein' hot, wha's all da 'let's- pounce- Race' about?"

Ali swatted at him playfully. "You? Hot? Let's not flatter ourselves."

"Who's flatterin' demselves?" Race raised his eyebrows jokingly.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding...You're hot... in the eyes of a dwarf."

Race laughed, slapping his knee, and was quickly joined by Ali.

"Anyway," she continued, after she caught her breath, "My parents said we could go out to dinner tonight, so you can come if you want,"she invited. Race didn't even need to stop and think. "Sure," he replied, "Where to?"

"Some place called The Umbrella."

"'Da Umbrilla'?"

"Yeah."

"Neva hoid o' it."

"It's at the far end of the Bronx - and it's fancy."

"Fancy?"

"You shouldn't have a problem."

"Fancy is me middle name," he answered, puffing his chest out mockingly and strutting around. Ali stood up from her place on the bed and kissed his cheek, before he turned and the two made out for about five seconds.

"I'll let you get dressed," Ali said, stepping towards the stairwell, and Racetrack saluted her. As she trotted down the steps gaily, she began to wonder where the line was drawn between true love and a crush.

Because she couldn't tell anymore.

"Racetrack!" Ali called, forty-five minutes later, and then realized that her parents didn't know that he had a nickname and shouted, 'Anthony!"

The family was waiting by the door, ready to go, but Race was holding them up for no apparent reason.

"Wha?" he finally called down, his voice distant and faint.

"What's taking so long!"

"I-I can't go!" he finally answered.

Ali paused, then asked, "Why not!"

"Cause I can't!"

"Why not!"

"Come up here."

Ali glanced at her parents, who nodded, before running upstairs to see Racetrack who, apparently, hadn't dressed up fancy in a long time.

He. Looked. Like. A. Clown.

Nothing matched. Brown, Blue, Black, White... Red. Ah. It hurt her eyes.

"Race..." she started, sighing and shaking her head, "Just... Just start over. Take everything off and start over. Black goes with white. Black goes with blue. White goes with anything. And hurry up."

Twenty minutes later, he came downstairs. He was still a bit mismatched, but it was fine. They had waited long enough.

The group hopped into the small, black horse drawn carriage, Ali's father taking the front seat to lead the mares. Race, Ali, Victoria and Arthur clamored into the cab and sat, silent. Race and Ali sat side by side, and Victoria sat, pale and tight-lipped as usual, and Arthur stared out the window. It was dark and rainy, and the bumpy streets made the ride seem even more uncomfortable. Race peered out onto the dark streets. Rain pattered against the clear windows, making a noise that could only be described as... well, rain. He turned.

After about thirty minutes or so, Victoria pulled on her hat and swung open the door, gusts of wet wind blowing in.

"I'll be right back," she said, "I'm just going to sit with your father."

Victoria stepped out and closed the door, leaving the kids to sit quietly. Racetrack pulled down the tiny curtains, not wanting to look at the gloomy weather. Ali sat, rigid, for a few more moments, before smiling oddly and stretching. She gazed at him.

"Well," she started, cracking her knuckles. Race put his feet on Victoria's empty spot. "How long does it take ta get dere?"

"Not much longer, I suppose."

"Suppose?"

"Well, yeah... It's bad out there, it ain't a sunny day that where everything's clear."

"Hmm..."

Ali sighed, and there was a pause.

"Race, what do you want for Christmas?"

"Christmas?"

"Don't tell me you don't–"

"I know what it is," he intervened, than thought for a bit. "I dunno. I ain't used ta gettin' presents." He paused again. "Am I even allowed ta stay dat long?"

"I can ask."

"Thank ya."

"Oh, guess what?" Ali cried suddenly, apparently happy.

"Wha?"

"In a week, my family's going out and visiting my cousin, Dawn, and we're staying at her house for two days. If you want to come to that, you can, and that'll be your excuse to stay longer!"

Racetrack smiled to himself as Ali planned everything out

He loved her so much.

That Night...
Natalie lay, under her covers, thinking. She was feeling crappy the last few days, with a bit of a cough, but it was going away. With a sigh, she stretched her arms.

A faint humming noise brought her to attention, and in the dark of night, sat listening. It was coming from Spot's room, and it sounded like he was singing. She chuckled to herself. Spot...singing? Did he think no one could hear him? Because he was dead wrong.

Creeping upstairs to the attic, she was surprised to find him asleep, muttering in Gaelic again.

"Amharc, mná ag obair lá's mall san oích,

Ceolann siad ar laetha geal, a bhí,

Bealach fada anonn's anall a choích."

It was a pretty melody, and he whispered something else that was inaudible. His back was turned to her, and she gently took his shoulder and rolled him over.

He was crying.

Natalie hadn't thought it possible to cry in your sleep, but it was. Eyes closed, puffy and red, tears halfway down his cheeks. She grew uneasy, watching him suffering from something she could not help - he was asleep, he was out of her hands. But she brushed his face lightly, and he stirred - before his eyes popped open.

Spot gasped a bit, not expecting to see her there, and sat up, only to find his face wet.

"Wha happened?" he asked.

"You were crying in your sleep."

Spot searched through his memory. Yes, he had had a bad dream, and it had disturbed him badly, but he couldn't remember it. It was probably the same dream about the girl and the tombstone, but he set it aside and wiped his cheeks off. "I'm fine."

Natalie put her hand on his neck. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah... I dunno wha dat was."

"What?"

"Nothin'."

Natalie sat, gazing at him affectionately for a few more minutes and rubbing his head softly, before smiling. "Okay. Well, goodnight."

"G'night."

A/N: not much in this chapter, but in the next one - Spot and John go a' huntin' and the Manhattan Newsies are ever drawing closer.
Gaelic Translation and Pronounciation:

"Amharc, mná ag obair lá's mall san oích" (Amm hark min Ag o bear las malls an eesh) Look, women working by day and late at night

"Ceolann siad ar laetha geal, a bhí,"(Sho lin shay ard air latha geel, a bee) They sing of bright days that were

"Bealach fada anonn's anall a choích." (Bee lach fada a nun's a nall a chee) A long way back and forth forever