Author's Notes: This chapter is a bit long. Not super long, but a bit. I want to thank Emba and Stress for being nice enough to read through this mess and even leave feedback. There are newsies in here! Yay!

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Newsies, or any of the characters from it. Disney laid claim to them before I had the chance. I still love ya, Disney.

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Chapter Three
A Simple Thanks

The sun's beams poked and prodded through the spaces between the buildings, bounced off a shop window and landed squarely between Ellie's eyes. She scrunched her face, turning her head to the side, and tried to swat the light away with her hand.

"We've figured it all out."

Ellie tilted her head up from her slouched position on the ground. A pair of green eyes stared directly at her. The child had a head full of thick blonde hair that stood on its ends as he peeped down from the base of the statue. He grinned at her. Another head popped into view right next to him.

"Yeah!" he chimed. He had a newsboy cap on (one that was obviously too big for him), covering the top of his dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends.

Ellie had no idea what they figured out, or who these kids even were for that matter. But a combination of her own exhaustion and the hopeful looks on their faces made her play along.

"What've you figured out?" she asked with a lazy smile, her voice still thick with sleep.

"You're seeking refuge in Manhattan after fighting an epic battle against a gang of bad guys and their big monster sidekicks," Green Eyes began.

"We know because you're too pretty to be a bull," explained Brown Curls. "And because of the battle wound," he said, pointing to her arm.

"And we know it was a big fight because you were unconscious by the time you got here!"

"And the best part," Brown Curls said standing up, "is that you came all da way from Santa Fe!" He emphasized this detail by pointing due west.

She had to laugh. They were so animated and energetic. And completely random. "Why Santa Fe?"

"Cowboy told us that in Santa Fe, heroes always fight bad guys and ride off into the sunset on their trusty horses," green eyes explained.

A cowboy? What on earth were they talking about? Ellie thought with mirth. "So, I'm a hero from Santa Fe?"

"Yeah!" the two said excitedly.

"And, and, and! They call you… Princess Pony the Magnificent!" Green Eyes exclaimed.

"Princess Pony." Ellie's shoulders visibly slumped. She was hoping for a more glorified name.

Brown Curls removed his cap and smacked Green Eyes over his head.

"Ow!"

"That's not it!" Brown Curls said. His chest puffed up with dramatic tension. "And they call you… Pegasus, the crime-fighting, gang-busting Lady of the West!"

"Oh yeah!" Green Eyes drawled in remembrance, still rubbing the back of his head where Brown Curls had hit him.

Ellie laughed as she slowly stood up. "What're you kids, fiction writers?"

"We're newsies."

"Ah." Well, that explained the wild imagination.

- - - - - -

"You two almost make me miss the Delancey brudders," Race said, shaking his head at the pair of meek young men behind the desk of the Distribution Center. "Hey Jack," he called. Jack had already sat down on the platform and was flipping through the paper.

"Yeah," he answered, not looking up.

"What're we gonna do about our morning entertainment?" Race asked loudly.

"What do I look like, the circus?"

Race ignored his last comment. He picked up his papers and stooped down on the platform, sitting himself right next to Jack. His dark brows furrowed as he browsed the headlines. "Lousy mornings, lousy headlines…" he muttered.

"Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes," David piped. He looked to Skittery, who was coming down the steps after buying his papers. "Right, Skittery?"

Skittery plopped down on the lower steps and muttered a "yeah, sure," before thrusting open the newspaper and skimming the articles.

"Hey, Sunshine. What's with the long face?" Jack asked Skittery with a teasing grin.

"Nothin'."

"I coulda sworn he woke up with a smile on his face," Kid Blink said, nudging Skittery playfully. Standing beside Blink was Mush, who laughed as he remembered the glazed, far away look of content Skitts had had in the morning.

"I was having a good dream," he rejoined.

"Yeah?" said Jack.

"Yeah."

"Then what happened?" Mush prodded.

"Then I woke up."

"Hey, look at this, guys," David interrupted. "This article says that the recent muggings are linked to some gang situated in Queens."

The newsies just stared at him.

"So what?" Jack questioned.

"So… couldn't we do something about it?"

"Why?" Skittery asked without looking up from the paper.

"Because… well, what if one of us were attacked by this gang?"

Jack stood up and patted David on the back. He knew David was in one of his seize-the-day-let's-make-the-world-a-better-place moods that he had adopted after the strike. "Dave. It ain't none of our business," he said. "And I sure as heck wouldn't be scared of no little girls." He walked over to Mush and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

David frowned. "There isn't anything in the article about little girls." Just to be sure he began to read through the article again. "Wait, how do you know they're girls?"

Jack cocked his head to the side, looking at David as though the answer were obvious.

Bumlets, still waiting in line to buy his papers, explained. "We're out on the streets all day long, Dave. We eventually pick up things those reporters don't."

"Oh."

One by one, each of the newsboys bought their papers and settled as they flicked through the pages, searching for ways to twist the bland headlines.

"Forty papes, please!"

The newsboys by the platform looked up at the sound of the chirpy voice.

"Heya Clue! How've ya been?" Jack greeted the small child.

"Hiya Cowboy! Guess what? We met a real life hero from Santa Fe and she came riding on this big horse and she was all bloodied up because she was fightin' these mean bad guys and her name is Pony – no, not Pony, her name is Pegasus, the crime-fightin', gang-bustin' Lady of the West and she's going to be our selling partner but I don't think she's ever sold papes before, it doesn't matter, huh, Cowboy? She's real pretty at least I think so and me and Alec are going to show her how to sell papes and she even said she would buy us ice cream! Well, I've got to go, they're waiting for me to go back with the papers," Clue rattled, as he shrugged two piles of papers that seemed to be half his size.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa," Race said, stopping Clue in mid-motion. "What?"

"Slow down, kid," Skittery added. "Who's this 'Lady of the West'?"

"Pegasus," Clue said, exasperated that none of the newsies understood what he had just explained.

"Are you kids just going to sit out there all day long?" asked Mr. Wilson, the paper distributor. He pored over his small glasses expectantly.

"Carryin' the banner!" Clue exclaimed and he bounded towards the open gates.

The newsies watched the enthusiastic young boy leave and chuckled softly. Even Skittery couldn't help but grin.

- - - - - -

Green Eyes or, as Ellie learned, Clue came running towards her and Alec (whom she had kept referring to as Brown Curls). He wavered from side to side, holding a large stack of newspapers under each arm. The duo led her down the busy streets of Manhattan, to their usual selling spot.

When Ellie had asked them why they were named as though they were Snow White's forgotten dwarves, she had gotten two wide-eyed and puzzled stares that clearly asked, "Snow what's what?" As they walked from the newspaper distribution center, Ellie briefly told them about the fairy tale.

"That's a girly story," Alec said, scrunching up his face.

"Did it end with a 'happily ever after'?" Clue asked earnestly.

"Yes, to the both of you," Ellie said. How do the two of them get along? "Where did you get your names from?" she asked more clearly, straying from referencing any other unfamiliar fairy tales.

"Alec's name is short for 'Smart Alec' - Cowboy started calling him that," Clue said.

"And what about your name? Why's your name 'Clue'?" she asked.

Alec tugged at her skirt. Ellie bent down as Alec whispered, "Because he don't have none."

Ellie glanced at Clue, who only looked up at her with a toothy grin, his eyes gleaming with innocence. His smile tugged at her heart. He slept in the streets, in the arms of a cold statue – surely no replacement for the warm embrace of a parent – and was robbed of being spoiled with presents and sweets like other children with families. But he remained untainted by the cynical world.

She ruffled their hair playfully. "Where's this selling spot of yours?"

They stopped in front of a new coffeehouse which was brimming with customers.

"We just started selling here," Clue informed her. "The morning papes disappear in minutes!"

Ellie watched them from behind, sitting casually on the ledge of the red brick shop building. As the kids sold the newspapers, she finally had time to focus on her mess of a situation. She was frantically trying to figure out how to get back to Ivy Street. And how to explain her absence to Mr. and Mrs. Richardson. A worried expression crossed her face. She pursed her lips, knowing that her job with the Richardson's was in serious jeopardy. She wondered if Francesca was able to go home, and Ellie knew the blame would fall on her if the brat never made it back into the house. She thought back on the disaster of the night before when a stinging pain ran down her left arm. Grimacing for only a moment, she looked down at the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around her arm, which had been carefully concealed with her shawl. She needed to change the poor bandaging and to actually treat the wound. She concealed her arm with the shawl when the kids came to her with empty hands and pockets full of change. Sure enough, Alec and Clue sold all of their forty papers within the hour.

"What's next?" Ellie asked, her lips widening into a natural smile.

The boys looked at each other and nodded knowingly. "Tibby's!"

- - - - - -

Skittery removed his cap and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. The day was not going as well as he would've liked it to, which he fully expected. He still held ten papers and he felt as though his stomach were shriveling up with hunger. He sighed with relief when someone finally came up to him for the morning paper. It's about time, Skittery thought wearily. He handed the man a paper and accepted the money. "Thank you, sir," he managed to say as the man hurried past. He pulled his cap over his head, lowering it over his eyes to shield against the bright autumn sun. Skittery walked past Huyler's Ice Cream Parlor and despite himself, looked through the parlor window. Inside, people were chatting and enjoying ice cream sodas. He could afford one… if he were willing to give up two days worth of lunch. Slowly, he turned away from the window and shoved his way through the bustling crowd. He thought back on the dream he had had that morning. In it, he was inside Huyler's and was about to dig into a huge bowl of ice cream sundae. His mouth was watering for the sweet treat; he felt like a kid again – carefree, innocent, full of life. And just as he was about to bring a spoonful of ice cream and syrup to his mouth, Kloppman's voice and Blink's snickering broke through his dream. The moment he opened his eyes that morning, he felt all the hardships of reality swoop in, pounding heavily in his chest.

Skittery was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't notice the suddenly empty street in front of him. Nor did he hear the clanging and clattering of the runaway carriage.

She did, though. Ellie watched the crazy man as he walked, rather nonchalantly, in front of the carriage's path as it rolled on the down-sloped street. Women screamed, men shouted warnings. The people were pressed against the buildings, trying to get out of harm's way. Ellie pushed through the huddled group and before she knew what she was doing, raced into the open street.

Skittery realized too late. He just saw the carriage rapidly tumbling towards him when a sudden force slammed hard into his body and knocked him off his feet.

He groaned. Was that it? Am I dead?

"Are you insane?" came a voice from directly above him.

Skittery's eyes snapped open. He found himself lying on his back and vaguely heard the carriage come to a crashing stop. His hat had flown off his head. After several moments, he focused on the weight on top of him and the pair of light brown eyes boring into his own.

Ellie sighed with relief when she saw that he was overcoming his shock. He looked incredibly confused. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him if he were insane – she knew if he answered "no," it really meant "yes." The more proper and immediate question was, "Are you all right?"

"Wh – yeah, I'm fine," he grumbled.

She scoffed. "You're clearly not fine. Physically, maybe. But mentally," she pointed at her head, "I don't think so."

"What're you talking about?"

"You were heading straight for that carriage!" Ellie exclaimed, not able to believe that a perfectly healthy looking young man could be so dense.

Skittery was not insane, contrary to what this girl was probably thinking. He was just having a bad day. "Look, I'm fine, all right? Maybe you should get off me," he snapped.

"Maybe you should let go of me first," she retorted.

He realized with surprise that his arms were wrapped around her waist. He quickly let go and she bounded to her feet. Skittery glanced at her as he stood up. He was taken aback to see that she was quite young – her voice had been like that of a reprimanding mother – perhaps around his age.

She bent down to pick up his hat. Her shawl slipped off her arm and he thought he saw her shirt stained in red, but she quickly covered her it up again before he could be sure. A wave of guilt overcame him. Had she gotten hurt because of him?

She extended her arm towards him with his cap. He cautiously took it. "Listen, you're arm…" he trailed off.

"What?"

He was caught off guard by her tone of annoyance. He knew he had something to do with her being upset. "You don't have to sound so angry," he defended.

She turned wide eyes on him. "Oh, but I am angry. I just saved a crazy man from being crushed to death," she gestured towards the shattered carriage at the end of the street, "and he doesn't even mention a simple thank you."

"Fine. Thanks," he said. She seemed to be appeased.

"You're very welcome."

He closed his eyes and shook his head resignedly. When he opened them again, she was gone.