Hi guys, sorry I haven't posted in ages! I've been super busy with school and theatre and internships but today I was listening to Newsies and got inspired to continue! I cut this chapter in half because it's already really long like this, so keep an eye out for chapter 3! :)

Chapter 2:

It was midafternoon by the time Killer and Spot had finished selling for the day. The winter had finally left New York and spring came in its place, so most of the newsies were at the docks swimming or playing. Spot went back to his perch, observing all whom he cared for, and Killer sat at her normal place on his right side. Squirt had recovered from the morning scare and was now laughing and running around with the other children.

"Careful," Spot warned when they came a bit too close to the edge. Immediately the boys stopped, looked up at him and obeyed, moving away from the water before resuming their play. At their actions Spot chuckled lightly, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead in his hand. "Killah what are we'se gunna do wit 'em?" he mused. She smirked at him and shook her head.

"You'se is stressin' yourself out, Spot," Killer stated. Spot looked up from his palm and scoffed. She raised an eyebrow and he groaned.

"So what if I is? There's not'in I'se can do 'bout it," he replies gruffly.

"Why don't you'se go to 'Hattan and play some pokah. That always cheers ya up," Spot contemplated this for a moment but shook his head.

"I'se can't leave, you'se know that," she shrugged

"Fine, then invite 'em here," he raised an eyebrow.

"Now, that, that could work, why don't you'se head over to 'Hattan and invite 'em before it gets too late."

"Why do I have to do it?" she asked sharply.

"It was your idea," he started. She simply narrowed her eyes, so he added, "and you'se know its too dangerous to send anyone else wit all the trouble on the streets lately. I'se don't trust anyone else to go." She stared at him for another moment before letting the air out of her nose and tightening her cap on her head.

"Fine," she said finally and jumped off the crates walking in the direction of Manhattan.

…

It was a rather long walk to Manhattan, but Killer didn't mind. It gave her time to think, and to dream. She would never tell anyone, but she spent most of the day with her head in the clouds. It was her only escape from the brutalities that took physical form in the searing pain which accompanied every new cut and bruise. Her philosophy was that she could escape anything as long as she has quiet and an imagination.

She realized she was close to Manhattan and grabbed the key around her neck, stroking it lightly before placing it inside of her shirt. She soon made her way to the lodging house and entered, making sure to maintain her stone cold expression.

The lobby of the lodging house was threadbare, its only furnishings being the desk in the front and a tattered couch off to the side. Its wallpaper was torn and faded, but she could still make out faint outlines of flowers climbing up the walls. She gave the room another look; it was filled with younger boys who glanced at her every so often whilst continuing their games. Kloppman sat behind the desk, scratching something carefully into a big book using a small piece of charcoal. He looked up at her through the thin glasses sitting upon his nose, trying to see if he recognized her.

She approached and smiled lightly, saying "Hey Kloppman," upon hearing her voice his expression changed into a warm smile. He and Mr. Finch have been coworkers for years, often meeting to discuss how things in the different boarding houses were going, so he had seen her grow up over the years, and had grown fond of the adolescent.

"Why, Mary," he said, "it's been ages. My, have you groan! For a moment I thought you were a boy!" She laughed.

"That's the idea sir," she replied, tugging her cap again.

"Well what brings you to Manhattan?"

"Came to see Cowboy, is he around?" she asked nonchalantly. Kloppman grinned, for he had often thought the two had feelings for each other. She rolled her eyes at his knowing expression. "Not like that, Klopp! Spot told me to invite them all to pokah tonight," she clarified laughing.

"Oh of course!" he laughed, in turn rolling his eyes as well, obviously not buying the story. "He's upstairs. You can go up, but no funny business ya see!" She chuckled stepping away from the desk.

"Thanks you old coot," she called going up the worn staircase. She returned her expression to its cold default before stepping on the upper landing. She walked through the old hallway, half naked boys with towels slung over their shoulders giving her odd looks as they passed, but she simply ignored them, finding her way into the main room filled with bunk beds and man stink, a stench that should bother a young girl but she had grown accustomed to over the years. Scanning the room she saw a couple of older boys in a group in the back of the room. She slowly approached them, quietly listening to the argument that seemed to be ensuing.

"I'm tellin' ya, man," a short curly haired boy with his back to Killer began "it's a sure thing, just spot me two bits and it'll be doubled by this time tomorra!"

"No way!" another boy wearing an eye patch replied.

"Oh come on," the curly haired boy, Racetrack, yelled, "when have I ever lost!"

"Any time you'se play me," Killer interjected. Racetrack spun around, his face looked red with anger, but he stopped himself upon seeing who it was.

"Killah!" he exclaimed nervously. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" he tried to use his smooth, "sweet talking" con man voice but Killer saw right through it.

"Spot told me to invite you bums to pokah tonight," she said simply.

"Pokah?!" Race asked, his face lighting up.

"'Ey, Race, you'se bettah not be tryin' to con the new guys into playin' again are you'se?" A voice from behind Killer said. She turned around to see a tall, handsome boy with shaggy brown hair, and mischievous brown eyes.

"Since when am I the new guy, Cowboy?" she asked raising an eyebrow. He threw his head back and laughed lightly.

"Sorry Killah, didn't recognize you'se," he replied. He then spit into his hand and held it out. She did the same and they shook. Another boy, about Jack's height with curly hair and a pressed, striped shirt came into the room. When Jack saw him he called him over. "Davey," he said addressing the stranger, "this 'ere is Killah. The toughest newsie in all of Brooklyn," she smirked at her introduction and nodded before spitting in her hand and offering it to David. He looked at her hand for a moment, and then looked back at her. He was about to say something when he looked into her eyes. Something about the way they looked told him it was best to accept her offer, spitting into his own hand and meeting to hers. She nodded, indicating that he past her test.

"Hi Killer!" he said brightly. "Glad you're visiting, sorry for the mess."

"What mess?" Blink shouted from his perch on one of the beds.

"Well, I mean look at all this shi-" he began but Jack hit him before he could continue.

"Have some manners would ya?" he said sternly.

"What did I do?"

"You'se was about to cuss in front of a lady," Pie Eater interjected from his bunk above Killers head. He didn't even look up from his comic, clearly bored with the events that were transpiring.

"What lady?!" David demanded sharply, rubbing the back of his head where Jack had struck him. Everyone looked at him as if he were crazy, even Pie Eater glanced up. Killer simply laughed. David suddenly had a look of realization, then of discust. "You're a girl?!" he asked, his face twisted as if he just ate a lemon.

"What did you'se think she was, a moose?" Racetrack asked, placing a cigar between his teeth.

"You just, you don't look like a girl," David stuttered.

"What do I look like, Davey?" She asked, her voice calm, maybe too calm. Cowboy's eyes shifted from her to David, before exchanging looks with the other boys, all of whom were getting nervous with where things were going.

"Well I mean, you look like a boy," he said simply. She raised her eyebrows and clenched her jaw. Cowboy put a hand over his face, silently cursing how much of an idiot David could be at times.

"You callin' me ugly, Davey?" her voice was low, almost a growl, as she took a step forward.

"What?! No, no!" David replied getting nervous. "It's just, you well, you um…" Cowboy was glaring at him now, as was the rest of the room. "You wear boy's clothing." Killer narrowed her eyes but before she could speak again another half-naked boy with a perfectly toned stomach appeared.

"'Ey! Killah! It's good to see you's!" he said, his face filled with a large smile. A full smile crossed her lips before she could stop it.

"Hi Mush," she said, her demeanor soft and light, a complete contrast from when she spoke to David. Mush took her hand in his, and bending at the waist he kissed it, never breaking eye contact with her. She couldn't help the blush that began to creep up her face. Suddenly, a shoe came out of nowhere and hit Mush in the face.

"Off!" Blink said, holding the other threateningly.

"I was just being polite!" Mush began and the two began to bicker. Shaking his head Cowboy turned back to Killer.

"So what brings you to Manhattan, Killer?" he asked, leaning an arm on the block, letting himself tower over her slightly. She stepped forward so they were only inches apart.

"Who says I came for anything, who says I didn't just wanna see you'se?" she asked in her best innocent voice, looking up at him through her eye lashes and making her eyes wide to create the look of an innocent doe. He leaned down a little closer before whispering in her ear.

"Because you'se know I don't fall for that crap," at these words both of them began to giggle ferociously, something that Killer rarely did with anyone. Once they had calmed down a bit he draped his arm over her shoulders, also something Killer reserved for a select few people.

"But seriously, what's going on?"

"Oh, Spot's been so stressed lately and I'se think he needs to blow off some steam so I was hoping you'se guys would come to Brooklyn and play some pokah," Jack nodded before yelling to the boys.

"'Ey, 'ey everyone! The older kids is goin' to Brooklyn, Mud, I'se is leaving you'se in charge, make sure everyone gets to bed on time, alright? All you'se bettah listen to Kloppman, I'se don't wanna hear anything bad, got it?" They all nodded or replied in an affirmative way. "Alright, you'se bums," he said referring to the boys around him. "Let's go to Brooklyn!" The boys chorused in a loud cacophony of sound and all headed over to Brooklyn with Jack and Killer leading the charge.

Like I said it as kind of a long chapter but I have the next one written up so if you would like to read it I would appreciate a review or two! :) DFTBA!