next chapity-chap-chap-chapter. sorry, had to get the craziness out for a serious chapter

disclaimer-i actually remembered! go me! oh yeah, i actually have to write stuff here, dont i? important, legal stuff, so that just in case one of you is an angry newsie cast or crew member, you dont sue me(but if you are, tell me, cause i would all but faint) anyways. the only parts of this story i own are Mustang, Dunder, well, not really. ok, scratch that. i own Mustang and Chris andCowgirland my beautiful lack of plot and puffins also i think they go quite high too, maybe not as high as the moon. wow, sorry. since im disclaiming stuff, i dont own the moon song either. or Greensleeves. i guess maybe i could claim dunder, but then again he was in the movie, technically, so never mind, i cant. ok, i think im done now.


Mustang sat on her bed holding the leather horse. She considered going back to sleep, but she was pretty sure she knew what she would dream about. Besides, she was too awak now. Instead, she thought about the day that the sun had risen over the charred remains of her house. They had agreed to go to New York. She had ridden Cowgirl, their small bag of belongings tied behind her. Suddenly, she found herself wondering where that bag was. She still had a few items that had been in it, but most of them were, she assumed, still in it. She had it when she first arrived in Manhattan, but not when she left for Long Island. How could she have forgotten about it? That meant it was still here. She ran out of her room and up the stairs. At the top, she had to pause for a moment. Her head was pounding, damn head injuries. She glared over at Racetrack. She noted that Kid Blink's pillow was hanging over the edge of his bed and was about to fall. Well, if it was going to fall anyway, it would hurt if she guided it a bit. She crept over as quietly as she could and carefully pulled the last half inch of the pillow out from under Blink's head. She slammed it down on Racetrack's face and ducked behind the head board. He jolted awake and sat up, swinging blindly with his fists. If he had been about an inch taller, he would have hit his head on the bottom of Blink's bunk. Still mostly asleep, he pushed the offending pillow onto the floor and flopped back down. Supressing giggles,(yes, mustang giggles) she put the pillow back on Blink's bed. Then she remembered why she was there and tip-toed across the room.

"Dutchy," shw whispered, poking his shoulder, "Dutchy, wake up." He rolled over, but as soon as he saw her he pulled his sheet over his head.

"Five more minutes, still's dark," he muttered.

"I know it's still dark," she resisted the urge to yell at him, mostly because she didn't want to wake anyone else, "and I don't care. Get up! It's important." She pulled the sheet back down and he blinked up at her. It was a tough desiscion, Mustang or sleep.(sleep, not Sleep emily) The latter seemed highly preferable. He closed his eyes and tried to roll over, but she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Please." She could see force wasn't working here, so she resorted to a method she had mastered while living in the orphanedge. Her own unique form of persuasion, mixing a sob-story with sucking up. "I was looking for something I lost, but I can't find it. You're so smart, won't you help me?" She lay her head on his shoulder and peered up at him with her best puppy face, even though she was fairly sure he couldn't see her. He sighed and patted her head, careful to avoid the bruise.

"Poor Mustang," he muttered, hoping her act hadn't woken any of the others. "I's gettin up. Go downstairs, I'll be down in a second." She kissed him and ran down the stairs. He sat up and stretched before putting on a pair of pants and his tan shirt. He felt around for his glasses, found them on the floor, and went down the stairs. Mustang was pacing her room, holding the leather horse and messing with the bandana around her neck. Dutchy walked in and flopped into a chair with a yawn.

"So, wha's dis thing you's lookin faw?" he asked, blinking as she lit her lamp. "Wait. If you're jus turnin on da lamp now, how're you lookin before?" His brain wasn't stringing words together very well yet. She smiled and sat down next to him.

"I knew you were smart. No, I lied, I wasn't looking before. I don know where to start."

"Could you've waited till da sun rose at least?" He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Please Dutchy." She leaned her head against his shoulder and took his hand in hers. "It's important to me." He sat back up and kissed her hand.

"Alright, alright. What're we lookin fer?" He couldn't believe she was making him do this.

"The bag of stuff I brought with me from Santa Fe." His mood suddenly changed. No more could he be mad at her. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He thought for a moment about the day she left for Long Island. Even then, he wasn't entirely sure why she had done it. He thought back to a few days before that, when they hid the bag and some other things. "You don't remember? A couple days before you left, I made you promise you'd come back and visit us. To make sure you did, we took the bag, and a bunch of other memory stuff,"

"And we hid it under the floor boards!" They ran to the floor between the foot of her bed and the wall. Mustang found her hands shaking too badly to get a good hold on the loose floor boards. Dutchy took her hands and held them for a minute until she calmed down a little. Together, they pulled up the boards.(yay for corny cuteness!) There was the bag, and with it other things from her life with the Manhattan newsies. There were short notes she and Dutchy had scribbled to each other. There was the dirty strip of cloth she had used as a sling when she broke her arm.

"Mustang, look at this," Dutchy laughed, holding up a small veil of flowers tied together. Since she and Cowgirl hadn't been able to enter a real race, Racetrack had given her a different challenge. They had to run a small course in half the time it took the fastest newsie. Mustang laughed, remembering the make-shift ceremony after she'd won.

"What's this?" she asked, holding up a newspaper with the newsies' picture on the front.

"From the strike. Guess I've kept putting stuff in here after you left."

"You're not very photogenic, are yeh?" She turned the paper sideways so that theDutchy in the picture was right side up. He laughed and moved closer to her to read over her shoulder. In the soft light of the lamp, with Dutchy's chin on her shoulder and their heads resting against each other, Mustang felt all her wories being pushed to the back of her mind. She silently lifted the leather bag and opened it. She wished she had let that peaceful moment last so much longer, but no, she had opened the bag, and there, sitting right on top was an upside down envelope, still sealed. She picked it up and turned it over, barely daring to breathe, as though afraid it would turn to dust. There on the front was one word written in smudged ink. A word she hadn't seen written in 6 years. Andi.


oooooh, dramamtic, cliff hanger ending. bwahahahahahaha.