Disclaimer: We do not own the Newsies or the major plot of this fic. We do own all subplots and original characters and witty humorous remarks. Thank you.

CHART OF FEMALE ORIGINAL CHARACTER NAMES (to lessen the confusion)

Real Name Nickname in Story NML Name

ErinSketchMinstrel

Emilyanne SageStargazer

AmberDaydream Daydream

Christin Shades Shades

Jewell Rusty N/A

AshleySpazz Dragonsong

Ellen GimpyN/A

The Girls of New York

By Daydream, Sketch, Sage, Spazz, and Shades

Chapter One: Out of the Rain

She stared out of the window of the shop and sighed. The rain had begun to fall in torrents, sending sheets of water down off of the roof and onto the sidewalk. People on the street ran to their destinations, trying their best to stay out of the summer storm. Nobody entered the small dress shop, where Emilyanne sat quietly, reading War of the Worlds in between gazing at the rain and making sure that her boss was still upstairs, asleep. There hadn't been a customer all morning, and frankly, she knew that she didn't need to be there. However, it was her responsibility to man the counter in case any brave souls decided that they needed a new dress or corset so badly that they would come through the rain to buy one.

She twirled a stray lock of her brown hair around her fingers absentmindedly, already knowing the ending from reading this particular book before. The best part of the book was yet to come, when the main character was reunited with his wife after neither knowing if the other was alive. Emilyanne smiled as she finished the last few pages, and set the book down on the counter. She was now lacking in entertainment for the rest of the afternoon.

Just when she had the thought to leave for her apartment, the bell over the door jingled, and she heard someone enter the shop. She immediately tried to fix her hair back into its original up-do, and put on her "I'm-happy-to-see-you-despite-the-dreary-day" face. But when she reached the front door, her smile died.

Before her stood a teenaged newsboy, who had blood all over his face and shirt, and appeared about ready to collapse. Sure enough, before she could reach him, his knees buckled under him, and several wet, leftover papers fell onto the neatly polished wooden floor. Emilyanne rushed over to him, and tried to find where all of the blood was coming from. His right eye was huge and puffy, and he had a cut over his eyebrow.

"Are you alright? What happened?" She said quickly, and helped him over to a nearby armchair. Then the young man spoke for the first time in a voice riddled with aching.

"Fight. Do you have anything cold I can put on my face?" He turned his one good eye to meet hers. She looked away nervously, and busied herself with examining the cut.

"I'm sure that I can find something. Let me see your eye again, I don't think that it's seriously injured, the rain just makes everything look worse than it is," She said consolingly, and left to wet a spare rag, her long pink skirt swishing behind her. When she returned with a washcloth and some alcohol, the boy ran a hand through his dark brown hair, making it stand up in various directions. He caught the strong scent of the alcohol, and grimaced. She smiled reassuringly at his face, and gingerly started dabbing the cut with the wet cloth. He winced as the alcohol burned on the wound.

"May I ask whose cut I am tending to?" Emilyanne said, and blew gently on the cut, trying to get the stinging to stop.

"I'm Michael, better known as Skittery to my friends," Michael took deep breaths to deal with the pain. Then he decided to continue the conversation, "What's your name?"

"I'm Emilyanne. Unfortunately, I haven't yet had the honor of being bestowed with a nickname," She joked, and once she was happy with the progress of the cut's healing, she laid the cloth over Michael's eye. She then took his hand in hers, and set his over the cloth to hold it in place.

Emilyanne withdrew and brought a chair over to face the newsie. She also brought over a water-cress sandwich that she had been saving for lunch. She gave half to the young man, who devoured it quickly. He sat back against the chair and sighed.

"Is it alright if I call you Skittery, or would you rather me call you Michael?" She said, and began to twirl her hair between two fingers again.

"Well, I haven't heard anyone call me Michael in years. So you can just call me Skittery. No need to break the tradition," Skittery said almost ruefully, and Emilyanne didn't question him further about the strange choice of nickname.

"How did you find your way to the shop, Skittery? This doesn't seem like a place that would promise good healthcare. I know for a fact that there is a doctor's office located a block south," She said, attempting to divert his attention. There was a pause. Suddenly, Skittery's depressed face disappeared, and a smile began to form at the corners of his mouth. Emilyanne blushed; he most certainly wasn't unfortunate-looking.

"Well, do you want the truth? Or would you rather have the lie I was going to tell you if I got too nervous?" Skittery asked, his single brown eye giving her an inquisitive look.

"I tend to believe that the truth is better in most situations, this one included," Emilyanne said slowly, not really knowing which version she'd rather have. It was more than likely that both were lies.

"Good, I was hoping you would say that. Well, this guy from Queens , he met up with me in an alley earlier today. He said that he had a perfect job opportunity for me. Of course, being the fool I am, I believed him," Skittery sighed heavily and continued, "Anyway, the deal went bad, and I got pretty beat-up in the process. It was really raining, so I tried to find somewhere to sit down and get cleaned up. I recognized this store from a few days ago, when I sold over here, and saw you going inside. So I came in here when I had the chance. I thought you might be here, and I wanted to see you again."

Emilyanne smiled to herself and lowered her face to the floor modestly. Apparently, he had taken a liking to her. She made sure to keep her composure.

"I see. Well, I am glad that you decided to join me. I just finished my book, and I needed someone to talk to. My boss is upstairs, asleep, like she usually is on a day like this. I'm left to fend for myself," She said the last part with exaggerated sadness, but was unable to keep her face serious, and ended up laughing at her own silliness.

"Why are you laughing?" Skittery said, unable to keep a straight face himself, and cracking a small smile of his own.

"I don't know, just an attempt at humor, I suppose. It obviously didn't go the way I wanted it to...," Emilyanne trailed off and looked at her hands in her lap.

"I don't mind, smiling makes for a nice change," Skittery said with a small shrug.

"Why? Do you not usually smile?" Emilyanne had returned to twirling her hair.

"Emilyanne, when you're like me, there isn't much to smile about," Skittery said and motioned to his wounded eye.

"I always thought that being a newsie would be fun. You'd have the opportunity to run around the city streets and be with friends...," She gazed at the ceiling for a few moments, as if thinking about something. She was brought back after Skittery cleared his throat quietly. She shook her head slightly, and continued calmly, "I always thought that it would be very exciting."

Skittery laughed out loud at this. Emilyanne thought that this was a nice change from his gloomy face earlier.

"Being a newsie is anything but exciting or fun. We work in all weathers, and we get no gratitude from anybody. I barely make a living. But you're right about one thing. You do get to be with friends," Skittery nodded firmly, and sat back farther into the chair.

"I still think it would be exciting," Emilyanne said stubbornly. Then she decided to voice something that she was very curious about, "You never fully answered my question, though. Why did you choose to come into this shop, when there are places to fix your cut elsewhere?"

"Like I said, I wanted to talk to you. You caught my eye. I usually don't see girls like you working. They're usually being waited on by others. I wondered why a pretty young woman like you didn't have someone opening doors for you," Skittery said honestly. Emilyanne tried to hide her glowing face by talking some more.

"You're right about one thing; I most definitely don't have anybody making money for me. I have to do that by myself. But everything else, I don't know if that's true. You can't even see me fully, " She said in an amused voice, smiling almost a little too widely.

"I know I'm right," Skittery said, "And I can see you with both eyes."

He lowered the cloth from his eye, and attempted to lift the swollen lid. Emilyanne immediately got up to make sure he didn't damage his eye more than it already was. She tutted him softly, and held the cloth in place. Skittery moved his hand up to hold the cloth, but when Emilyanne tried to move her hand out from under his, he held her firmly in place. She blushed furiously, and she was glad that he couldn't see her red face.

"I've got one," Skittery said simply, turning his head, so that he could see her out of his good eye. Emilyanne waited patiently for him to finish, wondering what he could possibly be talking about.

"I know what your nickname can be. You seem like a pretty smart girl- you did fix my cut. You can also fix a very good water-cress sandwich," Skittery said in jest, while Emilyanne smiled. Skittery finished his thought, "How about Sage?"

He nodded, obviously rather proud of his choice. Emilyanne's blue eyes finally met Skittery's brown one.

"That sounds good to me."