I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. I know, I know. You all thought that I did, but you were mistaken. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.

I do not own the character Saiorse "Irish" Callan. She is owned by her creator Lady of Tir Na Nog, who has graciously offered the use of "Irish" as a character in this story.

I am making no money from this story. (Bet that comes as a great surprise to y'all.)

Rated M for Slash, Sexual Situations, and Language.

A/N: This chapter was beta'd by the amazingly talented pennylayne. Not only did she beta this chapter, but she finished the next one, posted a new chapter for her story "Sidekicks" (at fanfiction) and posted to her new LJ "wondertwins"(co created with friskywallabee). This was all done in less than one hour. That's why I call her the quintessential overachiever.

Chapter 18 – Hot Food and The Cold Shoulder

Tony held the door for Chris as he struggled to get his crutches through the diner's entrance.

"C'mon, Blink. Stop being so damned stubborn. Give me the crutches and let me help you."

"I don't need any help! I'm not a child!"

"Well, you're acting like one!"

"I can still kick the crap out of you! Now get out of my way!"

"Fine!" Tony snapped, though he was more hurt than angry. "I was only trying to help!"

Chris flashed an angry blue eye in his direction then shoved Tony out of the way as he hobbled past.

"Let's sit here," Tony said, stopping at the booth closest to the door.

Chris ignored him and clomped to a booth at the far end of the diner. He was tired enough to fall over, but he wouldn't give in.

Tony watched as Chris struggled to remove his jacket. He was balancing on one leg and one crutch while he held the other crutch with his chin. He tried wiggling his free arm out of the jacket, but he lost his balance and stumbled backward. Tony caught him from behind and steadied him. "C'mon, Blink," Tony whispered. "Enough already."

Chris opened his mouth to argue, but exhaustion took over and he reluctantly surrendered the crutches. "Hang on to me," Tony said, placing Chris' arm around his neck. Chris snorted in protest as he pulled his arm away, then held onto the back of the bench as Tony took his jacket.

"Stubborn!" Tony mumbled to himself, but deliberately loud enough for Chris to hear.

"Ass!" Chris grumbled as he flopped onto the seat.

Tony bit back a response and went to the counter to speak with Irish. Chris strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn't make out a word. Irish disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying two milk crates. Chris could hear Tony say "Thanks," as he headed back to their booth.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chris snapped.

Tony didn't answer. He pulled the table out into the isle and stacked the crates one on top of the other in front of Chris. Then, after bunching up his own jacket and putting it on the crates, Tony gently lifted Chris' broken leg and set it to rest on the jacket. Without a word, Tony pushed the table back in its place and slid himself into the booth next to Chris.

Chris' anger softened at the gesture, and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. He didn't want to admit that he could be won over that easily, but moments like this reminded him of how much he loved Tony. It was so like him to want to protect and take care of Chris, but that was what the argument was about in the first place. Now, Chris was angry with himself for not being able to stay angry with Tony.

"Thanks!" he huffed, trying to sound like he was still annoyed.

Tony saw right through the charade and smiled. "Okay, I admit it," Tony sighed. "I'm a little overprotective, but this is your first trip out of the house since you broke your leg. I just want to make sure that nothing else happens to you. You're so tired you can hardly walk."

Chris' body tensed as Tony's words mimicked those of his mother. "Damn it, Tony. You're my boyfriend, not my mother. If I wanted to go to the mall with her, I would have asked her to take me!" The pulse in Chris's jaw was visible as he glared at Tony.

"I don't know why you're so pissed," Tony grumbled.

"You know damn well why I'm pissed. You embarrassed me in front of the entire record store."

"I embarrassed you? How did I embarrass you? Oscar started it. You didn't expect me to let him say something like that and not do anything about it, did you?"

"You should have ignored him."

"I was only away for three weeks, Blink. That's not enough time for you to forget who I am. I wasn't about to stand by and let him call you a one-eyed one-legged freak."

"He was trying to provoke you."

"Well, it worked!"

"And everybody in the store was staring at us. It was embarrassing."

"They were staring because we're two incredibly handsome guys," Tony smirked.

"They were staring at us because you called Oscar a limp-dicked mama's boy who can't get it up without his brother watching! You could have gotten yourself hurt!"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Tony said. He was trying to laugh, but it was obvious that the day in the gym was in the back of his mind.

"Well, it would be the first time that you got yourself hurt because of me. You should have ignored him."

"I don't believe you. You're the one who's always shooting his mouth off at the Delanceys. You never back down. You surprised the shit out of me today."

"Well, what did you expect, Race? I can barely stand on those crutches so it's not like I could fight him. And in case you haven't noticed, I can't run either. If you and Oscar went at it, what was I supposed to do? I couldn't help you, and I couldn't stand there and do nothing."

"Okay, Blink. I'm sorry, alright?"

Chris didn't answer.

"C'mon, Blink," Tony said, taking his hand discretely under the table. "You know that I can't back down when it comes to the Delanceys, and you know why. I refuse to let them think that I'm afraid of them. I can't let them think that they've won."

"I do understand, Race. I really do, but . . ."

"But what, Blink?"

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. "Never mind," Chris mumbled. "Just promise me that you won't go looking to get yourself killed until I'm in better shape to help you out. Okay?"

"Okay," Tony said, giving Chris' hand a firm squeeze. "I promise to try and stay alive while you're recuperating. But that doesn't mean that I won't defend myself or you if I have to."

Chris wasn't satisfied with the answer, but he knew that it was the best answer he was going to get.

"Lighten up," Tony grinned as he hit Chris playfully with his shoulder. "Nobody got hurt."

"This time!" Chris huffed. "But at least we got Itey's present before Oscar showed up."

"Are you sure he's gonna like it?"

"Of curse he'll like it. Itey loves Michael Jackson. And Thriller is his favorite album. You saw him and Swifty leading everyone in the Thriller Dance that time in the gym. He's seen the video so many times that he knows every step."

"He's not the only one. I seem to remember that there was a good looking blond guy with an eye patch who was up there dancing right along with them."

"The point is that he's going to love his present. We all chipped in for the tape deck and now he has his favorite cassette to play on it."

"If you two are finished arguing, I'll take your order," Irish chuckled.

"We weren't arguing," Chris grumbled.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that shouting and calling Race an ass was a form of affection."

"Sure it is," Tony smirked. "That was foreplay for me and Blink."

"Gag me!" Irish groaned as she hit Tony on the head with her order book. "That's disgusting! People are trying to eat in here!"

"Speaking of eating," Chris said, ignoring them both. "I'll have a chili dog, onion rings and a coke."

"No," Tony glared. "He'll have a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk."

"Are you starting again?" Chris fumed. "What are you? My mother?"

"No, but I have to answer to your mother. She warned me not to let you eat any junk food. Her exact words were, 'And I'd better not find out that you made him eat the usual garbage you get him. He needs healthy food so he can heal properly.' If your mom smells chili dog and onion rings on your breath, it'll be my ass in a sling, not yours!"

"It doesn't sound like Blink's mother likes you much," Irish laughed.

"That's an understatement," Tony grumbled. "But it's understandable. After all, I did turn her normal All-American son into a sissy-boy."

Chris snorted a chuckle when Tony grabbed his thigh under the table.

"What are you laughing at, homo?" Tony smirked.

"Nothing, fruitcake ," Chris laughed, placing his hand over Tony's.

The calm atmosphere in the diner ended when the bell atop the entrance door rang.

Half of Pulitzer's basketball team, most of the cheerleaders, and a few sports groupies barreled in. They immediately filled the counter and most of the tables and booths.

Irish looked at the only other waitress and groaned as shouts of "Let's have some menus over here!" and "Who do I have to screw to get some service!" filled the room.

"Hi, Irish," Sarah Jacobs said as she squeezed up to the counter between Swifty and her boyfriend, Pete Scolari. "It's too bad you had to work this morning. You should have seen your boyfriend in action. You would have been proud." Then Sarah turned to her boyfriend and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "You were great, too, Pie sweetie."

"My boyfriend?" Irish asked. "What boyfriend?"

"Earth to Irish," Sarah laughed as she rolled her eyes. "I'm talking about your boyfriend, Snoddy."

"You really should have been there," Pie interrupted. "That boyfriend of yours was fantastic. He looked like a pro out on that court today. Between him and Jack Kelly the rest of us coulda stayed home."

"Hey babe," Snoddy said, coming behind Irish and sliding his hands around her waist.

"Excuse me?" Irish replied, sliding out of his grip.

"What's the matter, babe? You havin' a bad day or something?"

"C'mere," Irish said as she grabbed Snoddy by the front of his shirt and pulled him into the employee's locker room. "What's all this 'babe' business, and since when am I your girlfriend?"

"Since we started dating after the fall dance," Snoddy replied, looking totally confused.

"Jeeze, Snoddy. We've had three dates, and only one of them was an actual date. The other times we went with the rest of the guys to the movies. That hardly constitutes me being your girlfriend!"

"Ah, c'mon, babe. Don't be like that."

"Be like what? And don't call me 'babe!'"

"I figured that since we made out after the dance, and started dating, that you and I are a couple."

"That jock strap of yours must be too tight, because it's cutting off the circulation to your brain! We kissed a couple of times, but then you started grabbing at my sweater and I told you to take me home."

"Yeah!" Snoddy said through an enormous grin. "Most of the girls I go out with wanna screw around on the first date, but you were different. I like when a girl plays hard to get."

"I'm not playing anything, and I'm not hard to get, I'm impossible to get. I told you on our one and only date that I don't like you that way. I told you that we've been friends too long and I can't think of you like a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but I thought - -"

"No, Snoddy. You didn't think, and you didn't listen. You're one of my best friends, and I could never think of you as a boyfriend. It just isn't gonna happen."

"Well, what about Itey's party? Aren't we going together like we planned?"

"We didn't plan anything. We're both going to Itey's party along with everyone else."

"Can I at least pick you up?"

"Jesus, Snoddy. I live across the street from Itey. I don't need a ride. I only need to walk across the lawn!"

"Okay, then. I'll meet you at the party."

"No, Snoddy. We'll see each other at the party, but I'm sort of meeting someone else."

"What the hell! Who?"

"Itey's brother, Skittery."

"You've got a date with Skittery Callo? He - - He's too old for you. He's in college, for shit's sake!"

"He's only two years older than me. And it's not a date. I just agreed to meet him there is all."

"Skittery Callo? - - Son of a bitch!" Snoddy shouted, then turned and stormed through the diner.

"Looks like it's gonna be an interesting night," Tony said as they watched Snoddy kick the front door open.

End Chapter 18

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