I guess I am feeling extra productive tonight. Actually, I am trying to avoid doing homework. So you lucky people get to enjoy the fruits of my procrastination. Have fun!

dPocket was long gone when Racetrack exited the lodging house, and he cursed himself for not going after her immediately. Now it was going to be hard to find her. What if she needed help? Blue had hit her pretty hard and she'd been a little unsteady when she left.

Footsteps pounded behind him; he whirled around, fists ready.

"Jesus, Blink," he grumbled when he saw who it was. 'Whatcha doin?"

Blink took a moment to catch his breath before answering. "Same as you," he panted. "Findin Pocket."

"What for?" Race asked suspiciously.

Blink rolled his good eye. "Pocket's me pal," he said simply.

Racetrack continued to stare at him until Blink shoved his shoulder.

"Quit lookin at me like that," he mumbled. "C'mon, let's go."

Racetrack started walking. Blink fell into step beside him.

"Where d'ya think she is?" Blink wondered.

"Not sure . . ." Race trailed off, thinking. Then it hit him. "I know!" he crowed and jogged off in the other direction. Blink hurried after him.

"Ain't nobody here," Blink whispered as they approached a factory. The huge brick building was completely dark, a little bit spooky.

Racetrack's shoulders fell as he looked around. He'd been sure he'd find her here. Disappointed, he turned to go when something caught his eye. He squinted into the darkness. He nudged Blink and pointed toward the roof. Blink looked up and saw it too, the faint orange glow of a cigarette. They clambered up the fire escape to the roof, almost landing on top of Pocket. She stood ready, legs planted, fists clenched. She visibly relaxed when she saw it was them.

"Whatcha doin here?" she asked gruffly.

Now that they'd found her, Racetrack wasn't sure what to say. "Wanted ta make sure you'se alright," he spoke hesitantly, unsure of her reaction.

"Yeah," Blink chimed in. "That Blue clocked ya pretty good . . . Bastard," he muttered as an afterthought.

Pocket scoffed. "I'll be alright," she said.

"Ya sure?" Blink pressed.

"I'se fine," she insisted. "Bum barely got a hand on me." She spoke bravely, but her lip was cracked and puffy, and her jaw swollen, bruises already starting to show.

"Thought ya might be, ya know, upset or somthin," Racetrack tried again. Pocket gave him a dirty look.

"What's to be upset about?" she said stoutly. "Ain't like I nevah slept on the street before, is it?"

The three of them stood quietly, looking out over the darkened city. Pocket wandered over to sit on the edge of the roof.

"I did like Manhattan, though," she sighed wistfully. Her earlier bravado was gone, now she just looked tired. "It was kinda nice knowin where I was gonna be sleepin every night." She lit a cigarette. "Oh well," she tried to sound casual. "Time for me ta move on. I'se gettin bored there anyway."

"Listen, Pocket," Race went to sit next to her. "Spot wanted me ta tell ya somthin."

She looked over at him, head tilted, waiting.

"Wanted me ta tell ya he's got room in Brooklyn," he told her.

Pocket looked surprised, then thoughtful.

"An he also said," Racetrack continued, "that he had a bunk for me, too."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ya goin ta Brooklyn?" she asked.

Race nodded.

"What tha hell for?" she burst out. Blink laughed.

"Why not?" Race shot back, wounded. "Don't think its fair that ya have ta leave just cause you'se a goil," he explained with dignity. 'Not sure I wanna stay with folks like that."

Pocket looked at him appraisingly, her eyes narrowed.

"Ya don't care I'se a goil?" she wanted to know. He shook his head. So did Blink. "Ya ain't mad I didn't tell ya?" she pushed.

Racetrack grinned wickedly. "Oh, yeah, ya big secret," he mocked. "I already knew." He laughed at her shocked expression.

"How'd ya know?" she shoved him.

He raised a shoulder. "Can't explain, really," he mumbled. "Just knew."

Pocket wasn't convinced. "Sure, Race," she rolled her eyes. "Tell me how ya knew."

Even in the dark it was obvious that his face was bright red. He looked away from her, his answer so soft and quickly spoken she almost didn't catch it. Almost.

"Ya saw me in the bath!" she shouted, shoving him again, harder.

"I didn't mean too!" he rushed to explain. "I only saw for a second, I swear! Besides," he went on slyly, "ain't like ya got much to look at anyway. Ow! Stop that," he held up his arm to block her as she tried to thump him. He pushed her over.

Laughing, she jumped up and grabbed him. Blink joined in too and they wrestled around until they were each to weak from laughing to keep on. They flopped onto their backs and stared up at the sky.

"I mean it, Pocket," Race said after a while. "I ain't stayin in 'Hattan if you ain't."

Pocket was quiet for a minute, and when she answered her voice held a note of uncertainty.

"Ya'd do that for me?" she whispered.

"Course," he told her. Then, uncomfortable with emotion, he poked her in the arm. "Ain't really for you, anyway," he announced. "Been thinking of movin for a while. Be closer to the tracks." Pocket chuckled.

"Ya still gonna visit, right?" Blink asked her.

"Guess so," she told him.

He nodded, satisfied. They lay there, the three of them, feeling like the only people in New York as they gazed up at the stars. Blink was soon snoring, and just before Racetrack drifted off he heard Pocket's quiet whisper.

"Thanks."