Title: Never Enough

Summary: For every prohibition you create you also create an underground. SET IN 1921. The rivalry between the Manhattan Mob and the Brooklyn Boys, between Kelly & Conlon, is legendary in this business. What happens when two girls dance up to the line and cross it while sticking their tongues out?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Newsies characters mentioned in this piece; I do, however, stake claim to Jess Kelly, Frankie Kelly, Reagan Malloy and a whole mess of other characters that will most likely pop up throughout this work.

Author's Note: Yeah, when I said that the OC's would be in this chapter, I lied. I added a small detour so Reagan and Frankie won't meet up with their pals until the next chapter. Also, I was reading the reviews for the last chapter, and I just want to say a dew things. I know there hasn't been any male interests pop up yet, but he's coming – trust me :) As sad as it sounds, this story is maybe 30 percent done, if that. Also, Frankie isn't just helping Reagan because she's nice; she's actually quite manipulative when you get to know her (takes after her father). Trust me, she has enough to get out of befriending Reagan. Again, though, you'll have to wait until next chapter to see that. Luckily for you, since I know what's going to happen next chapter, that should be coming out soon.

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PART X

Frankie opened the door but, once she had stepped outside of the room, immediately let go of Reagan's hand. With a flick of her wrist, she motioned for Reagan to stay behind. Reagan remained at the door but did not step out into the hallway.

Her parents were still discussing matters with Blink; at that exact moment, Frankie knew, they were probably deciding on what to do with the girl. She adopted a demure smile and cleared her throat, trying to get their attention without making it appear that she was trying to listen to their conversation. Her mother did not like when she snooped and there was no way that Frankie was going to let go of her ticket into Brooklyn just yet. "Daddy?" she called, softly, when none of the adults paid her any attention.

There was no way that Jack would not respond to his daughter's call. No sooner had she said his name, did he turn his head around to face her. He was wearing a tired smile that told Frankie that whatever the adults were talking about, he did not like it. "Yes, Precious?"

She swallowed. This didn't look good. If she didn't do this just so, Reagan could be in trouble. Or, worse, her father might just send Blink out with her – and that wouldn't do either. "Daddy? How much longer do I have to stay back here?" She tried to sound as bored as possible.

Jack sighed and turned briefly to face his wife and associate. Blink just shrugged and Jess whispered something to him. Jack nodded. "What did you have in mind, Precious?"

He knows. Sometimes she just didn't give her father enough credit. It was hard for her, especially with the affection she felt for him, to remember that he was Jack Kelly, head of the Manhattan Mob. There was no way he could have gotten there with no brains. She would have to be even smarter, though, for this to work. "Can't I go back home? We'll be alright if we hurry over and lock the door behind us," she added, while crossing her fingers behind her.

Jack narrowed his brown eyes at his daughter, creating wrinkles in his forehead. Frankie tried not to giggle at his expression. He would be even more aware that something was up if she did. "Who's 'we', Precious?"

Damn. She hadn't expected him to pick up on that. "Oh, me and the new girl, here. She hasn't really said much since you brought her here – I think the office is making her nervous. It might just be better if I took her home with me. Besides, safety in numbers, right, Daddy?"

Again, Jack turned around to exchange a glance with his wife. No doubt he was remembering the manner in which they came to acquire Reagan's company. But, when he turned in his chair, he was surprised to see his wife nodding. He was about to ask her what she was thinking – there was no way he was letting his little girl walk the streets of Manhattan without protection – when he saw Jess shake her head slightly before jerking her thumb to her right: Blink. Jack nodded. "Precious?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

He smiled. "You can go to the apartment, now, and wait for your mother and me. We have some more grown-up talk to do and you're right – it's not fair to make you girls wait here." Frankie began to thank her father but, before she could, Jack held up his hand. "I will have Mr. Blink here accompany you, though, just to make sure nothing happens." And by 'nothing happens' everyone knew what he was referring to. Brooklyn was still a major threat.

As if Frankie needed reminding.

Her mind already racing with ideas on how to shake her father's associate, Frankie smiled naturally. "Thank you, Daddy," she said before flicking her wrist again. Reagan took this to be a sign that she could finally leave the room.

- - -

The walk to the apartment building where the Kelly's lived was quiet and, for the most part, uneventful. The pair of girls walked awkwardly ahead, aware that Blink – who they had yet to figure out how to lose – was stalking a few paces behind them, his good eye on the lookout for anything strange, his hand wrapped around the pistol in his jacket pocket. The man was eager to prove himself to his boss; he had felt humiliated after Frankie knocked him down and disobeyed him. If he screwed this up and Jack's only daughter got in trouble while walking back to her home, his career – and, not to mention, life – would be over. He wasn't taking any chances.

So when, for the third time since their trek began, Frankie tried another ploy to get him to hurry back to the office he had just left, Blink was just as resolute that he would stay with the girls until they were safely inside the apartment. Sure, he would be very late for dinner and his date with Lorelai – it was quite rare that he could find someone to watch all of their four children – but he was going to do his job right. Mush owes me next time. His partner had gone home earlier that night after he had allowed Jess to get arrested; if there was one thing that upset Jack more than the chance that his daughter would get hurt, it was when something bad really happened to his wife.

"Mr. Blink, I think I left my purse back at the office. Can you run and fetch it for me?" Frankie asked, simpering. Blink shook his head. Did this girl think he was born yesterday? First she tried to say that she didn't need him, then she told him that she left a lit cigarette going in the office – Yeah, like Jack Kelly's daughter smokes, he thought, remembering the argument he had witnessed earlier between Jack and Jess – and now this. "Sorry, Frankie, no can do. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to get your purse," he said and smirked to himself when he saw her shoulders slump in defeat. Maybe now she would give up.

When he saw her straighten again and tap the blonde on her arm, Blink lost his smirk. Frankie wasn't done yet. He still walked behind them, waiting to hear what ploy the girl was going to try this time.

But, when someone spoke, it wasn't Frankie – it was the blonde. She stopped and turned to face Blink, determination written on her face but fear hidden in her eyes. Frankie obviously had no idea what the other girl was doing because she kept walking a few steps more before realizing that she was alone. Surprised, she stopped as well. "Excuse me," Reagan said, addressing Blink.

The man paused. Jack had told him what had happened in the park – how a young man, a man the blonde had been with that evening, had assaulted Jess and, subsequently, had been shot by Jack in defense. When the boss had turned his gun on the girl, Jess had stopped him and convinced him to bring her back with them. Back at the office, Blink had wanted to shake his head. Him and a couple of the other boys, though they never would freely admit it, felt that Jack listened to his wife too much sometimes. It wasn't good for his reputation, being under her thumb. "Yes?"

Reagan took a deep breath before her blue eyes slid to her right; she looked behind her and glanced Frankie waiting. She hadn't been able to succeed in getting their chaperone to leave – maybe Reagan could do it. And I think I know just how to do it. "There's something going on between Manhattan and Brooklyn, right?"

Blink looked harshly at Frankie, a look that said 'What have you been telling her?' Frankie just shrugged. She had no idea where Reagan was going with this. Blink nodded. "Yes," he said, almost drawing the one syllable out.

She took another deep breath. "Then I think you should go back to the office and tell your boss that something's about to go down."

Now Blink got apprehensive. He didn't like what Reagan was saying. It took all of his self-control not to take out his gun and get the girl to tall whatever she was trying to tell a bit faster. Jess, however, had said that the girl was not to be harmed – Jack had reluctantly agreed; the gun remained in his pocket. "What do you mean, kid?"

"Because the man he killed? The man I was with tonight? He was Mickey Finn, one of the Brooklyn Boys – Boss Conlon's boys." Her voice shook when she made her pronouncement and, almost at once, she felt that she should kick herself. Why did I tell him that? They're going to come after me now.

That thought had clearly crossed his mind. The older man definitely looked rattled and Frankie, who was just as surprised as Blink was at Reagan's statement, could see that he was now torn between fulfilling his job in staying with the girl and running back to the office to tell Jack what he found out. I can help him out with his decision.

Adopting a shocked expression, Frankie turned to Blink. "Mr. Blink, you need to go tell Daddy about this. If that Conlon bum finds out that one of his boys was killed over here, there could be a problem. Look," she added, pointing down the street, "the apartment, is only a block away. We'll run inside and lock the door behind us. You go back down to the office."

This while thing struck Blink as fishy but what could he do? News like this would redeem him in Jack's eyes. And Frankie was right – the apartment was only a block away. He nodded. "Just make sure you girls lock the door behind you. Especially now," he added. He didn't need to elaborate. The brief fire-fight between Manhattan and Brooklyn that followed Crutchy's death had been awful, but vindicated, because Brooklyn had started it. What would they do now when first shot fired was Jack's fault?

- - -

Once Blink was out of sights, hurrying down the street so that he would get back to the office as soon as possible, Frankie turned to look at Reagan. "You didn't tell me you were with a Brooklyn Boy," she accused, pointing a finger at Reagan.

Reagan gulped. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. It had been in the spur of the moment that decided to tell them about Mickey being a Brooklyn Boy. She could tell the Frankie was trying to, unsuccessfully, get Blink to leave them alone. She had assumed that Frankie was a friend now. If Frankie Kelly was trying to go against her father to save her, she was going to sacrifice something for her. She hadn't expected Frankie to look so upset. "It was our first date. He brought me to Manhattan to show how tough he was and, later, he tried to prove it by yelling at your mother. Of course, I didn't know it was your mother – I didn't know you – but when she hit Mickey, he wanted to get her back. Then your dad came alone and shot Mickey in the chest. I didn't know what to do, so I screamed and I could tell he was going to shoot me next but your mom – have I said how much I like her? – well, she told him not too and that's how I came to be at the office where I met you…" Reagan revealed, rambling as she did so.

All Frankie could say, with a small smile, was: "Ma hit a Brooklyn Boy?"