A/N: I do not own Skittery, Kloppman, or the Newsboys Lodging House.

+Hidden Talent+

There was something about running that Tug liked; it was exhilarating, feeling her heart beat rapidly against her chest and the muscles in her legs tighten with every pounding step. She liked how the way the rush of air felt against her cheeks as she sprinted through the crowded sidewalks, darting and weaving with great agility between the people.

By the time she had reached Number Nine Duane Street, Tug was out of breath and ready to collapse. Leaning against the building, just outside the door of the Newsboys Lodging House, she took in a few deep breaths. When she finally regrouped from her hasty jaunt across town, Tug walked into the reception area. Kloppman was in his usual position, perched behind his desk, working on the log books. He glanced up at the sound of the door, surveying her over the tops of his spectacles.

"Hi there, Tug," he said, greeting her with a crooked smile. "Whatcha up to?"

"Hey, Mr. Kloppman," she replied, still a bit breathless. "Specs said Skittery was here. D'ya mind if I go up?"

"Skittery? I ain't sure he's here," Kloppman said, scouring his memory for Skittery's return. "He might've slipped in while I's in the back though. Alright, go on up and have a look if ya think he's there." He gave a nod toward the stairs.

Tug grinned. "Thanks!"

She ascended the stairs quickly and showed herself into the bunk room without knocking; most of the boys were out selling so she knew she was safe. Walking on her tiptoes, she peered over the tops of the bunks, expecting to find Skittery lying on his bed; he wasn't there. She stooped over and looked between the bunks thinking that he might have been to lazy to climb onto his own. Still, there was no sign of him, or anyone for that matter. Straightening up, Tug paused for a moment to listen; the room was completely silent.

Looking once more around the room, Tug quirked a curious brow. Why would Specs provide her with inaccurate information on Skittery's whereabouts. She gave a slight shrug to herself, signaling that there was nothing more to be done, and turned around to head back downstairs. Kloppman would be interested to know that he had not missed Skittery's arrival, and that in fact the place was deserted.

She had just stepped from the room when something caught her attention, bringing her retreat to a dead halt. Her wide eyes shifted from side to side as a melodic song had broken through the silence of the room. With a look of pure shock slapped across her face, Tug turned slowly on her heel, listening to the beautiful sound floating pleasantly from the innards of the washroom.

Silently praying that the floor would not creak beneath her feet and give her away, Tug inched cautiously toward the washroom. She leaned against the wall, just outside the entrance, listening to the enchanting voice from within. Tug smiled to herself as his voice grew louder and more confident, sending a wave of shivers up and down her spine. It took all her will power to suppress the noises that suddenly wanted to surge from her mouth and also to keep from peering around the wall; she knew that the moment he realized he had been caught it would end.

He carried on for a few minutes longer; Tug was so absorbed in the delightful sound that she didn't realize it was growing closer to her until it was too late to do anything about. Skittery flinched violently when he caught sight of her lurking just inside the room; the song was immediately cut off, replaced by a strangled gasp.

"Tug!" he managed to shout and groan at the same time, his cheeks reddening. He narrowed his gaze on her.

Quickly she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, but the sparkle in her eyes was too much of a give-away. It was very embarrassing to be caught eavesdropping, especially since this was something that he obviously kept private. Tug failed in her attempt to find words to explain herself; she simply stared, trying not to laugh at the embarrassed fury that twisted his expression.

"What're ya doin' here, huh?" he demanded, trying to work around actually talking about what she had overheard.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to seem less amused by the situation. "I--uh--well, Specs said you was here. I thought --"

Oh, heck, she really didn't have a reason for being there, other than simply wanting to spend some time with him, but that seemed like a rather weak excuse now that he was demanding an explanation. Biting her lip, she looked at him tentatively. "Maybe, I should just go."

With one last encouraging grin, Tug turned to take her leave. She had almost made it to the door when he called after her,

"Don't go."

She turned back around, hopeful. His anger seemed to have deflated, leaving only traces of embarrassment behind. A loud sigh escaped from the depths of his lungs as he rubbed the back of his neck, holding her gaze with his somber eyes.

"You ain't allowed to tell no one, got it?" he said, the words almost threatening, but his eyes were silently pleading with her.

Her eyebrows soared toward the ceiling; he was taking this very seriously. It was kind of funny, and so cute that Tug couldn't help the smirk that pulled at her lips as she replied,

"What're ya gonna do if I tell somebody, huh?"

His hand shot out and he grabbed her arm, pulling her in close to him and grinned. "I'll soak ya!"

Tug laughed and then sighed dramatically. "Fine. I ain't gonna tell nobody." Relief spread quickly across his face. She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled. "Besides, who'd believe me?"