I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. 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 Adult Language.
A/N: I bet you didn't expect me to update so soon.

Super beta, pennylayne has me moving right along. She is amazing! Her outstanding writing can be viewed here at fanfiction, The Refuge, and the wondertwins LJ.


Chapter 20 – Itey's Party- Part One

"What the hell did I say?" Mush asked.

"Nothin', Mush," Skittery assured him. "Don't pay any attention to these morons, because you didn't say anything wrong. Things just didn't work out between Irish and me is all. . . . Damn, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since I left L.A. So where are you hiding the food, little brother?"

"The sandwiches are in the blue-and-white cooler on the left. The beer is in the white one," Itey replied.

"What the hell is going on?" Mush asked when Skittery was out of earshot.

"It's a mystery," Spot said. "Skitts and Irish seemed like the perfect couple. Everybody figured that they'd eventually get married, but one day they just split. I think that Skittery broke it off, but nobody really knows because he's always refused to talk about it. He was pretty fucked up for a while after it happened. He drank a lot and screwed anything that moved. He almost lost his scholarship because he was spending more time partying than studying. Eventually he got his head back on straight, but he never talked about her again."

"Why didn't somebody warn me? I feel like shit!"

"Don't worry about it, Mushie," Itey said. "It's been almost fifteen years already. It's about time somebody talked about it."

"Itey's right," Dutchy added. "We've been exorcising a lot of demons here tonight, and maybe it's time for Skittery to get an emotional kick in the ass."

"Are you going to analyze him right here, in front of everyone?" Mush asked.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm off the clock, remember? Just talk about what you want to talk about. If Skitts doesn't like where this is going, he'll let us know. Let him set the boundaries, and stop treating him like a child."

"So what did I miss?" Skittery asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Not much," Specs answered. "But I'm sure Race will tell us another story about how he and Blink have had the best sex any humans have had throughout the history of mankind."

"You're all jealous," Tony laughed.

"Ya know, it's been my experience that the people who talk about having sex the most do it the least." Skittery grinned.

"Not in their case," Jack grumbled. "Itey will need to have this place steam cleaned after they leave. There hasn't been a safe place to sit since they got here."

"Damn, Jack!" Skittery groaned. "That's disgusting! I'm trying to eat here!"

"Disgusting, but true," David added.

"Race can't help himself," Spot said. "It's in his genetic makeup. When you mix two passionate nationalities like Irish and Italian it's a fifty-fifty shot as to what you end up with. Either you get someone beautiful, sweet, and selfless like Reggie, or you get a five-foot-three-inch bag of testosterone with a temper."

"That's my kind of mix," Chris said, leaning back against Tony.

"Irish and Italian is one hell of a mix," Skittery mused. He paused for a little while before speaking again. "Ya know, I still remember how Irish looked the night of Itey's party. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen."


It looked as though everyone in town was at Itey's party. The Callo family was a crowd all by themselves, but when added in the neighbors and Itey's friends, the house was bulging at the seams.

Specs and Dutchy, however, were not there. Specs had called Itey earlier in the day to say that they'd try and be there, but he didn't think that Dutchy would feel up to it. Itey knew that meant Dutchy was either out looking to score, or he had already gotten his hands on some coke. It was the same with Email. You couldn't trust him out of your sight, and you couldn't keep an eye on him twenty-four hours a day.

Specs and Dutchy had been spending less and less time with their friends as Dutchy's drug habit became worse. Now, more than ever, Specs felt that he couldn't leave Dutchy alone. He knew that the minute he turned his back, Dutchy would be off to score from Pete or anyone else who would sell to him. Specs was tired and on edge, and his grades had fallen off miserably. Still, he didn't regret one minute of the time he spent with Dutchy.

Itey sympathized with Specs and understood what he was going through. Itey was worried about his brother, but at least for today, Email wasn't high. He was miserable and obnoxious just like he'd been since he started using, but he definitely wasn't high. Itey missed the old Email. He missed the brother that was the most like him.

Tony was grateful that the Callos had an entrance to the family room through the garage. Getting Chris and his broken leg down the narrow flight of winding stairs would have been a nightmare. Tony secured them a nice spot against the wall between a closet and the stairs. This seemed to be the only place where they could still see everything and not have Chris's cast getting in everyone's way. The large toy chest that sat against the wall was a perfect place for both boys to sit comfortably, and there was room behind the chest to hide Tony's bottle of whiskey.

Irish was talking to Jack and David when Skittery arrived. It had been two years since he graduated, and his entrance was causing quite a commotion. Skittery was no longer the skinny boy they all remembered. The athletic training he was receiving at college had helped him to fill out nicely. The eyes of every girl in the room were on him as he descended the stairs.

Pie Eater bristled when his girlfriend Sarah gaped at the sight. "Close your mouth, babe," he grumbled. "You're starting to drool."

After the handshakes and back slaps from his former teammates, Skittery made his way across the room to Irish. "Hey, guys," he said without looking at Jack or David. His eyes were fixed on Irish's as he squeezed between her and Jack.

"Nice to see you too, Skitts," Jack chuckled as he was nudged out of the way.

"What happened to you?" David asked pointing out the fresh bruise under Skittery's left eye.

"I slipped in the shower, Mouth!"

"It must be an epidemic," Jack laughed, pointing at Snoddy. "That's the same thing that Snoddy told me when I asked about his black eye."

"Don't you have someplace else to be?" Skittery growled as he glared at Jack.

"Don't get your shorts twisted, Callo. We can take a hint." Jack threw his arm around David's shoulder and whispered in his ear. Both boys roared with laughter as they strolled away.

"You look fantastic tonight," Skittery said. "You don't look anything like the kid I remember hanging around the house with my brother and his friends."

"It's still me." Irish smiled.

"It may be the same you on the inside, but your outside is a whole new package. . . . And it's a damn good-looking package at that."

"Thanks," Irish replied, subconsciously straightening the folds in her dress.

Snoddy was watching intently as Irish and Skittery became reacquainted. He studied their body language and facial expressions, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't make out what they were saying. Every now and again, Irish would look away from Skittery to glance at Snoddy. She could feel him watching her every move.

"Is everything okay, Irish?" Skittery asked.

"Sure. Why do you ask?"

"Then I must be boring you or something, because whenever I speak, you look everywhere but at me. Are you looking for someone to rescue you?"

"You are not boring me, and I don't need anyone to rescue me."

"Well, do I need a breath mint or something?"

"Of course not," Irish said, glancing away from him as she spoke.

This time Skittery followed her gaze and saw Snoddy sitting across the room watching them. "Oh. . . . Look Irish, if I'm bothering you, just tell me. I don't want to cause trouble between you and him."

"There isn't any me and him, and there never was!"

"Well, Snoddy doesn't share your opinion," Skittery said as he reached up and touched his black eye.

"That's because Snoddy is delusional! I didn't find out that I was supposed to be his girlfriend until today when Sarah Jacobs told me. When I asked him about it, Snoddy said that he didn't think I was serious when I said that we'd been friends too long for me to think of him as anything more. He thought I was just playing hard to get! I'm real sorry about your eye."

Skittery shook his head and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Irish bristled.

"I'd forgotten what it was like to be in high school. Everything is a major tragedy. It makes me glad that I'm out of there and away from all that drama."

"Well, excuse me, Mr. All-American college man," Irish huffed. "I suppose I should feel grateful that you came down from Mount Olympus so you could muck about in the dust with a lowly peasant like myself. And I'm sorry that our childish problems aren't mature and exciting enough for a worldly man like yourself. Now, if you will excuse me, I see several of the great unwashed that I would much rather be with than you!"

"Wait a minute," Skittery said, taking hold of Irish's arm. "I didn't mean it that way. What I meant to say was that back in high school you know everybody's business and they know yours. You're with the same people that you've grown up with, and you see them day after day. In college things are different. You can go days without running into anyone who even knows who you are. I definitely don't miss having everyone know my personal business, but I do miss my old friends. . . . And I miss some of my brother's friends too," Skittery said as he ran his hand down the length of Irish's arm.

Irish blushed when she felt a tingle radiating from the path of Skittery's hand. "That's a nice shade of red," Skittery teased as he lifted her chin with his hand. "It looks good on you."

"Does that line work on everybody?" Irish asked skeptically.

"You tell me." Skittery grinned as he traced her jaw line with his thumb. "It's the first time I'm using it."

Irish cleared her throat and looked down at her shoes. She was sure that her face was crimson, judging by the amount of heat radiating from her body. There was a long moment of silence until Skittery asked, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," Irish replied, being relieved that he'd broken the silence.

"I'll be right back. Don't disappear on me."

"I'll be here when you get back."

Skittery went and got two sodas and stopped by Tony to get a shot of whiskey in each. When he returned he found Irish in the same place he'd left her, but she and Snoddy were staring each other down. "Hold these," he ordered, handing her both cups. Then Skittery took her by the shoulders and turned her so that her back was facing Snoddy. "That's better," he said, taking his cup from Irish and giving Snoddy a warning glare.

Mush was sitting in the corner of the room, glancing at his wristwatch and glaring at just about everyone who passed. Spot had made several attempts to talk with him, but was greeted with extreme hostility. Mush made it clear that his mother dragged him there against his will. He told Spot, "The last place I want to be is here with you bastards and have to look at your ugly face! I hate you, Conlon, and you'd better keep the fuck away from me if you know what's good for you!"

Spot's life had never been easy, and his early years with his mother and father were an absolute hell. Mr. Higgins always said it was a miracle that Spot survived and became the strong and caring person that he was. Now, Spot wished for the numbness that he felt before coming to live with Jack and his mother. He longed for the wall that he'd so carefully built around himself. Spot could take a beating from the best of them and give back the same, but this was different. Mush's words hurt more than any of the beatings his father had given him. It felt as though Mush had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. Spot felt like he would die from the pain, but the worst part was knowing that he wouldn't.

Mush sank back into his chair and stared at his watch, waiting for the party to be over. Spot retreated to the opposite corner and stared at Mush while waiting for the pain to eat him alive.

Reggie glanced at her brother every now and again, expecting him to pounce on Itey for dancing too close or for holding her hand, but for some reason Tony wasn't bothering them. She didn't know why he was keeping his distance, but she was extremely grateful.

What Reggie didn't know was that Chris had convinced Tony to leave them alone while they were at the party. He reminded Tony that Itey was the only person who really made Reggie happy since their father's death. Tony agreed that he could keep from killing Itey for one night. He wasn't sure how Chris had convinced him, but he was now sure that Chris was going to make a kick-ass attorney.

Though Tony had agreed to keep his distance from Itey and Reggie, he kept a watchful eye as he sat with his arm around Chris. Each time that Itey moved too close or innocently touched Reggie, Chris could feel his body tense. Tony kept his temper in check until he saw Itey put his arm around Reggie and whisper something into her ear. Reggie smiled up at him and then nuzzled her face against his chest.

"That's it!" Tony growled as he slammed his Pepsi and whiskey down on the bench. "Do you see what that little shit is doing?!"

"Race, he's only got his arm around her," Chris reassured him. "His hands are in plain sight, and they are nowhere near anything important."

"Let's see him try and grope her after I pull his arms out of their sockets!"

Before Tony could stand, Chris pulled himself up and quickly sat on Tony's lap.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tony growled.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Chris purred as he nibbled on Tony's neck.

"I think that you're trying to keep me from getting to Itey!"

"You're only half right," Chris whispered as he traced the outline of Tony's ear with his tongue then slowly moved his mouth moved toward that special spot on Tony's neck.

"Um . . . What?" Tony stammered as he relaxed into Chris' touch.

"Well, I sat on your lap to keep you from getting to Itey," Chris said as he nibbled his way down the taught muscles of Tony's neck. "Then, it felt so good when I got here, I figured, why waste the moment?"

The feel of Chris' warm breath against his skin sent a shiver throughout Tony's body. He was grateful for the cover provided by the loud music when a deep moan escaped his throat.

"Face it, Race. It's been more than a month since we've been alone together. How long do you expect a guy to wait?"

"You're such a slut." Tony grinned.

"And don't pretend that you don't love every bit of it."

Tony looked at Chris' smile and forgot all about Itey and Reggie. "God, I've missed you," Tony breathed as he relaxed into the scent and feel of Chris.

Chris' mouth felt warm and familiar and better than Tony had remembered. It seemed like an eternity since they'd been together. It felt more like four months than four weeks. Now at Itey's party with Chris close against him, the strain and heartbreak of the past month faded as he let himself be carried away.

The Pepsi and whiskey, along with being out of Snoddy's line of sight, helped Irish to relax considerably. She was amazed at how much she and Skittery found to talk about. Skittery was surprised at how easy their conversation flowed once Irish stopped looking over his shoulder at Snoddy. They were getting to know each other as Irish and Skittery, rather than Itey's friend and his older brother.

"I read about you in the papers," Irish said. "I loved the picture of you sinking the ball in the last seconds of the game against Cornwall. That was a great headline, too: Callo Crushes Comets in a 64 to 61 Victory."

"Oh, please!" Snoddy grumbled from behind. He had moved from his place on the couch and was sitting on a nearby barstool. "Cornwall is the worst team in the division. I wouldn't call beating them by three points a miraculous victory."

"Steven Morrison!" Irish shouted. "If you don't get away from us right now, I'm gonna make you sorry that you ever woke up this mornin'!"

Skittery quickly moved in-between Irish and Snoddy. "Look, Morrison," he said, trying not to cause too much of a commotion. "I warned you about starting any trouble tonight."

"Excuse me!" Irish snapped. "I don't need you to go fighting my battles for me!"

"That's enough!" Skittery shouted. "Take this!" he said, shoving the drink back into Irish's hand. Then he picked up his own cup and took her by the arm and pulled her across the room. Irish's jaw hung open as Skittery opened the door to the utility room and firmly nudged her inside then closed the door behind them.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing, Skittery Callo? I can take care of myself you know! And if getting me alone in a mucky basement was the reason you asked me to meet you here then you're away in the head! Don't think that just because you are a big-shot college man that I'm gonna stay in here and mess around with you!"

"You think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?" Skittery laughed. "What makes you think that I brought you in here because I can't keep my hands off of you? Did it ever occur to you that I might want to keep you and Snoddy from having a fight and ruining my brother's birthday party?"

Irish opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Why, Irish Callan," Skittery smirked. "I've never seen you at a loss for words."

"Get out of my way you - - you braying ass!" Irish ordered as she tried to push Skittery aside. "I'm not about to be laughed at or treated like a common boot by you or anyone!"

"Calm down." Skittery grinned, leaning his weight against the door. "I'm only teasing you. You've got quite a temper, haven't you? And you've got quite a mouth on you, too."

"Excuse me if I'm not syrupy sweet like those phony little sorority girls you run around with at college. I'm not about to go pretendin' to be something I'm not for the likes of you!"

"I'm not complaining, Irish, I like it! It's nice to see a girl who stands up for herself. And did you know that your accent gets thicker when you get angry?"

"I think I've heard that once or twice," Irish replied, raising her jaw in defiance.

"I like that, too." Skittery smiled. "It's kinda hot! Now will you just relax and be yourself again? I brought you in here so we could talk and I could get to know you without having to share your attention with Snoddy."

"I suppose that I can give it a try," Irish replied cautiously.

"Good!" Skittery said, taking her hand again. "There's really no place to sit in here so we'll have to make due." He stopped in front if the clothes dryer and put his hands on her waist. "Up you go," he said, lifting her onto the appliance. He handed Irish her drink and hopped onto the washing machine next to her. "So tell me," Skittery said, giving Irish his most charming smile. "What is it you like to do when you're not threatening to beat the snot out of love-struck morons?"


"Snoddy was furious," David said. "He spent the next hour pacing back and forth in front of that door. I thought he was going to wear a hole in the carpet."

"Well, I thought he was going to kick the door in and beat the piss out of you!" Jack added.

"He could have tried," Skittery boasted. "But I would have given him a run for his money. I always believe in fighting for what you want. . . . Well, that's what I used to believe, anyway," he finished in a half-whisper.

Skittery got up from the bench and walked over to the beer cooler. He took one out and opened it, then wandered into the locker room.

"Well, babe," Specs whispered to Dutchy, "after all those years of Skitts supporting me, I think it's my turn to be the best friend."

Dutchy smiled and gave Specs a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he said. Specs returned the kiss, and then went to join Skittery in the locker room.

End Chapter 20

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