Author's Note: Chapter seven! This chapter is pretty cool, we get to see some interaction between Sinker and Trip :D and Spot makes an appearance at the end, so thats always good :) Thanks to all of you guys for your reviews! I luv you all!!

Disclaimer: I own my characters, Disney owns thiers :P

Sinker hadn't thought of it much, but as she sat on the windowsill, purposefully ignoring Blink, and staring out the window, she realized Spot was inadvertently playing right into her hands. Pulitzer had wanted her to get involved with Spot, much to her displeasure, and the newsie was making it horridly easy. He even knew she was working for Pulitzer, yet he merely made her a small deal. Something was up, but Sinker was having trouble placing her finger on it.

It was at that moment that Mush plopped himself down beside her, a goofy grin on his face. "Hiya Sink!" He was dripping water from every article of clothing. It reminded Sinker of when they had first met, after he had rescued her from the deathly depths of the harbor.

Sinker couldn't help but smile at him, "How's it rollin' Mush?"

The boy made a face, sticking his tongue out to the side and rolling his eyes upward. "Sellin' ain't so good with this," he jerked his thumb at the rain outside, then he smiled. "But puddles sure are fun ta jump in!" That was Mush, always seeing the best in everything.

She subconsciously wondered if he could find a silver lining in her predicament. It would probably be along the lines of "Well, you're alive!" which she would promptly add "for now" to the end of.

"Anyway," Mush began, "I was gonna see if ya wanted ta sleep in me bunk tonight, seein' as Jack's kickin' you an' Blink outta your bunk for Trip."

Sinker laughed. "I dunno, did ya sell at the harbor again? 'Cause ya always stink aftah that!"

Mush puffed out his chest. "It's a manly smell," he boasted with a large grin.

She smiled warmly back. "Yeah, sure," she replied. "But, uh, where's Blink sleepin'?"

"Boots an' Snipeshooter are gonna share tonight, so Blink gets a bed ta himself," Mush explained. "Me and him are too big ta share, and I jus' thought that ya might not wanna share with him t'day…you'se seem a little…" he couldn't some up with a good word to describe the two newsies' tension, but he didn't have to, Sinker understood his meaning.

She clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Well thanks Mush, I appreciate it."

Mush nodded and bounded over to where Racetrack, Skittery, and Snitch were playing cards, leaving Sinker to stare out at the pouring rain. She shivered, glad that she didn't have to be out in the cold.

Trip was sitting by herself as well, rubbing her red nose and shaking. She didn't know why but she was freezing. She, too, was relieved to be out of the downpour. Rubbing her hands together to warm up, she made her way over to where Crutchy was counting his meager amount of pennies.

"Hey Crutchy," she mumbled, feeling a little out of place.

Crutchy smiled brightly. "Hiya Trip! How'd ya sell t'day? I ain't havin' much luck lately…"

Trip sneezed. "Sorry ta hear that Crutchy." She dug into her deep pockets and pulled out a nickel, sliding it over to Crutchy's penny pile. "I ain't been doin' so bad."

Crutchy immediately shook his head in refusal. "No! I can't take—"

"Oh shush! Ya can pay me back latah if ya really wanna," she smirked, enjoying the ecstatic look that broke out across Crutchy's sweet face.

"Gee, thanks Trip! I really owe ya!"

Trip rolled her eyes. "Don' mention it." She coughed into her hand. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Night, Crutchy."

"Sweet dreams," he replied cheerily, waving as she headed to where she was going to sleep for the night.

"Why the hell are you waking me up so god damn early?!"

There was no light shining into the bunkroom, Sinker was still cranky from yesterday, and Mush had smelt like dead fish, even after being drenched in rain water. Not to mention, Sinker despised getting up in the mornings.

Trip was understanding and patient, as usual. "I'm assumin' Spot wants ta spend the day with ya. In order ta get back ta Brooklyn for the start a the day, we gotta leave now."

"I hate Spot," Sinker grumbled, more to herself than to anyone in particular, but Trip still heard. She burned inside at the childish remark. Trip would have given anything for the kind of attention Spot was giving Sinker.

"Well that's not my problem," Trip snapped uncharacteristically, taken aback by her own tone.

Sinker was startled as well, covering her shock she whispered, "Geez, I'm gettin' up."

She untangled herself from Mush's vice grip (he had apparently mistaken her for a childhood teddy bear named Cuddles while he was asleep), and slipped from the bed. Mush snuggled deeper into his pillow and murmured, "Cuddles…"

As Sinker was dressing, she glanced up at the other newsgirl, who stood awkwardly looking off into the distance. Trip had no make-up on, Sinker noticed, and her nose was red. Purple bags were puffed under her eyes. Trip sniffled and wiped with the back of her hand, yawning in the process.

If this had been Sinker's first impression, she thought she probably would have grown to like her. But, as it was, this was not their first meeting, and Sinker scowled at the memories as she tied her shoe laces.

The boys were still snoring as they made their way down the stairs, trying to avoid the steps that squeaked, but failing completely. Their attempt was pointless anyway, for when they exited the building, Sinker forgot to slowly close the door and it slammed shut with a resonating bang. "Oops…" she sheepishly mumbled.

The two walked along in tense silence, except for the occasional cough or sneeze from Trip, and the grinding of Sinker's teeth. Halfway to Brooklyn Sinker finally noticed that Trip was rubbing her arms and shivering. "What's wrong with ya?" she sort of spat out, sounding more rude than she had intended.

Trip shrugged. "Dunno, prob'ly just a cold, I'm fine."

Sinker nodded and they continued on without looking at each other for a while until Trip said, "Ya know…I don't like Blink…"

Sinker stumbled. "What?" she managed to choke out, not really believing what she had heard.

Trip took a breath. "Spot just wanted me to take Blink's focus off a ya. I don't like Blink." Then she added, "And ya clearly don't like Spot, so just tell 'im."

Sinker shook her head at the last comment. "It ain't that easy…"

"Yeah it is," Trip continued, her currently nasal voice growing louder. "Just tell 'im straight out that ya don't like 'im and—" she stopped, a sudden realization hitting her. Why hadn't this thought ever occurred to her before? "Wait a minute. If ya don't like Spot…then why are ya togethah?!"

Sinker grimaced, she had been hoping Trip would remain oblivious, but one does not become second-in-command in Brooklyn by being oblivious. "Ah, we just, uh, have a deal, which is really none ya business…" Then Sinker caught on to something. "Wait. Why do you care so much about me tellin' Spot I don't like him?"

A crimson blush flooded Trip's anemic face as she made up some excuse about how being Spot's right hand meant she had to look for things that he didn't see. Which was a lame excuse, considering Spot pretty much saw everything.

Sinker's mouth dropped and then she grinned wide, pointing and doing an odd, annoying little dance around Trip. "Ya like Spot! Oh my—Ha ha ha! You like Spot!"

Trip's lips were in a thin line and her jaw was set as she picked up her pace. Sinker followed behind, mouth agape and chuckling, before Trip swung around to glare at the newsgirl. "Listen. I don't want ta like 'im, but I do. It's nobody's business but mine though, so I'd 'preciate it if ya'd butt out!" Then she turned back in the direction of Brooklyn and continued marching.

Sinker blinked, slightly shocked at Trip's outburst, but quickly recovering, snickering and whispering, just loud enough to reach Trip, "Trip likes Spo-ot…"

By the time they had arrived at Brooklyn's Lodging House Trip had become quite irritated with Sinker's behavior, but she figured she'd rather have the girl poking fun than plotting revenge.

The Brooklyn newsies were trotting down the stairs as the girls shoved their way up. A few whistled and cat called jokingly at Trip before they noticed Sinker behind her, and they promptly shut their mouths and tipped their hats or winked. Spot had taught them to be classy, not lewd; however, it was questionable whether Spot even stuck to that lesson.

Speed came down the stairs, stretching his long arms. He saw Trip and Sinker proceeding up and grinned. "I heard he sent ya yesterday…had ta see it ta believe it, considerin' ya don't take kindly ta any form a water," he chuckled at Trip's miffed expression.

She sniffed, more because her nose was running than anything else, and pointedly ignored her friend, who laughed, slapping her good-naturedly on the back and tipping his hat to Sinker. Speed bounded down the steps, yelling, "See ya on the streets!"

"Who. Is. That?" Sinker gasped. Trip stared at Sinker in disbelief. No way was Sinker suggesting—"Why don' ya like him? He's…he's…who is he?!"

"That's Speed," Trip informed her. "We're friends."

"How could ya like—"

Trip clamped a hand over Sinker's mouth. "Never say what ya were about ta say around this place." She whipped her head to make sure no one had or could over hear. "No one knows…"

Sinker smirked. "So you'se sayin' we got a secret between us?"

"If ya wanna put it that way…"

"Well I 'spose I could rephrase it as 'blackmail'…"

"A secret is fine by me!" Trip ended the conversation, then pounded Spot's door, coughed, and yelled. "SPOTTY!"

The door was wrenched open by a disgruntled Spot, hair every which way, shirtless, eyebrows knit. "How many times I gotta tell ya not ta call me that?!" he noticed Sinker standing behind Trip with a highly amused expression.

"Delivery," Trip quipped before turning to go. "See ya latah Sink…" she added slowly, a tad unsure.

Sinker looked at the ground, scuffing her shoe. "Yeah, see ya," she replied quietly before smiling up at the girl.

Trip nodded and walked down the stairs, sneezing as she went.

Spot was a little confused at the exchange. He had thought the girls were enemies, merely because of the circumstances they had met under. He shrugged, then glanced at Sinker, who now stood alone in the hall, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. He smirked. "I'll be right out, doll."

Sinker grimaced, about to retaliate, when the door slammed in her face.

Author's Note: And there you have it. Don't you wish Spot would call you 'doll'? I know I do! And .Will guess what!! Next chapter we see a bit of Spot's sweet side!!! Yay!!! ;D