Hey, this is my first Fan Fiction. I am open to any suggestions and hope everyone will enjoy this story.

Disclaimer: I am not the creative genius behind The Newsies.

Chapter 1

"Extra, Extra, Hurricane hits Galveston, thousands left homeless," Amara heard a newsboy call. Amara pulled out a quarter from her clutch purse and approached the boy. For the past few weeks Amara had been following the news. She was particularly interested in the Newsie Strike. She had been fascinated by the pure nerve of the boys involved. Imagine, Amara thought, pushing her spectacles up her nose, going up against powerful and prestigious Elite like Pulitzer and Hurst.

"I'll take a paper, please. Thanks so much." Amara did not want to be nosy, but it was outside of her nature to not be curious. "You weren't by any chance involved in the Newsie Strike, were you?" She asked hesitantly.

The boy, who could not have been more than nine or ten, turned a brilliant smile on her. "Yeah, I wois there. It wois a real blowout. We knocked Pulitzer on his rear. But what do you know about it?" He asked suddenly.

"Well, if you must know, I have a special interest in the strike. I found it to be most exiting and quiet intriguing." Amara said, almost breathlessly. "The way you and the other newsies went up against…" Amara suddenly noticed how close she had gotten to the Newsie. She was almost in his face. Taking a step back she said, "Well, I am sure you of all people would know about it. Thanks for the paper. Bye." With that Amara took off to her Uncle's office building.

I really must learn to mind my own business, Amara scolded herself. I really embarrassed myself, oh well, with that she let the matter go. She checked the time with the pocket watch her father had left her. It had been the day before he and her mother had left to visit some relatives in Austria, of all places. Her father had entrusted Amara with his watch before leaving her at her Uncle's house.

Almost 3 o'clock, Amara sighed and went to put her watch back into her purse. She had just closed her clutch and pushed her spectacles up her nose, when she noticed a small riot forming in the street. Uh-oh, I wonder what is going on? I should get off the street, Amara thought shaking her head. As she was turning around she was almost knocked back by a rough pull on her clutch purse. Caught off guard, she let go and watched, stunned, as a small red haired boy ran off with her purse. Any sane person would have notified the local authorities, but Amara had a good thought chain, therefore it was only natural for her to give chase.

Amara chased the boy for what seemed like forever. He zigzagged through alleys and back streets, which made Amara extremely nervous, but now that she had started this game she was determined to win. Finally the boy dodged into a crowed plaza and took off. Amara stopped to clean her spectacles and noticed a statue in the center of the plaza. A group of what appeared to be young hooligans. They were laughing and appeared to be, no they couldn't be, but yes they were, they were indeed, singing and dancing. And right in the middle of them was a familiar red haired child.

Really ticked off, Amara marched right into the groups mist and grabbed the red heads shirt. "Please give me my purse back." She said in a calm monotone. The boy's face snapped around and a look of fear appeared on his face.

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"My, my, what do we have 'ere?" Racetrack asked Mush, Davey, and Crutchy, around his cigar. The boys followed his gaze and they noticed a girl, a rather odd girl, harassing Fingers, a new Newsie. She had long brown hair and spectacles. He had earned the name Fingers, 'cause of his fondness for stealing. That nasty habit seemed to have gotten him into a little bind. "Whadda yous say we go 'elp him out, bummers?" Kid Blink asked. The boys agreed and headed in the direction of Fingers and the girl.

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"What do you mean finders, keepers?" Amara demanded of the red haired boy. "Your lucky I did not alert the authorities." That brought the boy up short, Amara noticed with a smirk. When she looked up a group of older boys were standing in front of her, eyeballing her hand on the boys shirt.

"What appears ta be the problem, Ms." Said some smart aleck boy who was puffing away on a cigar. He was surrounded by a blonde, with an eye-patch, a muscular boy with brown hair, a tall, better dressed brunette, and a crippled boy with a silly grin on his face. "Would yous ah mind taking yer 'ands off da lad?"

"Not until this future convict returns my clutch purse. It has something of personal value in it, that I would like very much to have back." Amara told the group.

"Well, 'scuse me Ms. High n mighty, but I believe dat possession is nine tenths of da law." The same smart aleck phrased, as the rest of the group laughed. And then Amara realized that the only way to achieve victory was to outsmart these goobers. With eyes narrowed, she began to think. The young boy was afraid of the police, so maybe these older guys were.

"Very well then, you leave me no choice. Good bye fellows." Amara replied with a mean look in her eye. A sudden seriousness settled over the boys as the blonde boy asked, "Hey where are yous going. Come back," he shouted as Amara started to walk away. "Come back and we'll give yous yer stuff back."

Turning, Amara replied, "I am going to the police, I am sure you all are doing something wrong here. No matter what it is, I am sure the authorities would appreciate being notified." Amara leaned back a little and waited for a reply.

"Hey, there's no need for dat. Tell 'er why Davey." The blonde said.

Davey, apparently, said " Ohh thanks Kid. Well, for starters, Fingers is just a kid. He doesn't mean it and I am sure that he will give it back. In fact, I guarantee that he will. Second of all, we were just funning with yah. We weren't serious. Tell her your sorry, Racetrack." Davie said to the smart aleck.

"Hey would yous really call the Pols on us? I mean…" He was stopped by the muscular brunette shoving his elbow into Racetrack's stomach. "Will yous stop dat Mush, tanks, what I'm trying ta say, Ms., Is dat I am very sorry for disturbing yous. I did not mean to offend yous."

"Very well, I will let the matter go, if my belonging are returned." Amara warned still a little wary.

"Give 'er the bag, Fingers," the crippled boy urged.

"Do I 'ave to Crutchy, look at da way she is dressed, she don't need the money." Pleaded the boy.

"Dat don't matter, part o' being a good thief, is being 'onest one." Crutchy answered. With that Finger's threw the purse back at Amara and turned angrily away.

Before Amara could thank him, another boy approached the group. He had blonde hair and wore a cowboy hat. "Hey, what's going on 'ere?" He questioned.

"'ey dere Cowboy, we was just entertaining our new friend 'ere. Ah Ms… what did yous say yer name was lady?" Crutchy inquired.

"Oh," given the circumstances, Amara did not think it would be appropriate to give them her full name. "My name is Amara."

"Is dat right," Said Cowboy

Feeling a little uncomfortable Amara looked down and realized that she was talking to the leader of the NewsBoy strike. She mentally slapped her head and came up with a million questions she wanted to ask him.

"I don't mean to be rude, but weren't you involved in that strike?" Amara asked. At his nod, she continued, "What was it like, was it terribly exciting, were you scared, where did the idea come from, who was the brains of the operation, why did you all decide to do it, do you know Medda, do you know Denton, can I meet them?" She finished breathlessly. Realizing that she hadn't made any sense, she began to blush. Looking around at their faces she knew that they thought she was a loon. "Forgive me, I was a little intrigued. I am going to leave now." Amara wanted nothing more than to run from the crowd. As she turned to just that she knocked over another boy.

"Oh god's, I am so terribly sorry." Amara apologized to the boy.

"It's alright, lady. I ain't 'oirt. 'Ey, I remember you. You bought a paper from me today. Are you 'ere to interview the boys about the strike?" The boy asked.

"It's funny dat yous would ask dat Les, we was just talking about da strike." Cowboy joked.

Amara was not used to being the bud of the joke, well that wasn't true, but she stll did not like it. Deciding to stand her ground, she looked them each in the eye, then said, "That would be lovely, Les. I would very much like a first hand account of the events. Any volunteers that would like to go first?"

The news boys look around at each other not sure what to do. Amara began to tap her foot impatiently. Well I guess that showed them. She was about to leave when Racetrack, being smart again, stepped forward. "It would be me pleasure ta regal yous will an account of me adventures." He boasted as his friends giggled.

"Very well then, you first Mr. Track. Meet me here tomorrow and I'll speak with you. Unfortunately, I have to leave now. Until tomorrow." Amara said.

"Tomorrow it is. Goodbye, Ms. Amara." Racetrack replied.

"Who putta bee up 'er bonnet?" Race joked.

"Yah no joke, she is awfully uptight." Kid Blink answered.

"You'd be uptight to if someone stole your money." Les said defending the lady.

"Anyone mind telling me what is going on 'ere?" Cowboy, also known as Jack Kelly asked. As the boys explained what had happened this afternoon, Racetrack thought about what he would tell Amara tomorrow. He didn't want to give her a hard time, but she was so easy to annoy.

He understood her reasons for running after Fingers, but he had to doubt her sanity. He wondered why she didn't just get the Pols first thing. He decided to ask her about it when he met with her tomorrow.

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Well that is the First Chapter, let me know what you think. Thanks.

Amber