So…I owe you all a lot for those who have reviewed despite the fact it's been months since I've updated. Thank you to Ealasaid Una for inboxing me which made me realize I was being a very bad person and not updating…it was weird to come back to this story but at the same time enjoyable. I still remember where I wanted to go with it so here is the next chapter. I didn't exactly listen to much music while writing it only because I am currently studying musical theater for the summer so all I really do is listen to that. Not a bad thing! But anyway, though this is not the longest chapter I think it's relatively acceptable. The next chapter will be more interesting but I really did enjoy writing this chapter. Thank you for all who have read so far! Please listen to Isabelle by Gregory and the Hawk for this chapter, particularly for the storm cellar stuff. Happy Reading (:

Spot stood, tall and strong, as rain dripped off his cap and clung to his shirt, hands in his pockets as he surveyed the scene before him. Spot Conlon did not take well to being ignored. "Ise said, 'what have we here' boys. So tell me, what have we?"

There was something more menacing about the casual coolness to his tone. It may be because the idea of being killed by someone because they are mad at you seems almost less frightening than the idea of being killed by someone who could care less and is doing so just because they can. An involuntary shiver went down my spine.

The two bums stiffened before turning their backs on me. They were both bigger than Spot but they eyed his cane warily. Finally one of they spoke, "Wese was just comin' to take what's ours, no trouble intended Spotty."

A ghost smile illuminated Spot's lips. "Oh really and what would dat be?"

I could see the mist rolling in his eyes, the waves churning, and the laughter of lightening as he raised his head to make solid eye contact with the speaker.

"Dis goil heah." The beady eyed one spoke again, "Smirks just needs ta…'borrow' her for a while."

There was a silence where only the rain patted on the cobble stone ground, and Spot nodded.

The beady eye took that as a good sign and his tone began to warm up. "She's a lil' lost boidy heah in Brooklyn, what do ya need her foah any way?"

"Nothin', nothin' at all." Spot nodded again and I felt my stomach clench.

"We didn't mean no trouble so wese will just be takin her-"

"Ah, ah, ah." Spot tutted, hand gripping his cane loosely. "Ya see bummah, dats where youse is wrong. Cause Ise pretty sure I just saw one 'o me boys limpin' up da street to the Lodge. So really, ya did mean harm, didn't ya."

It was a statement. The beady eyed goon took a step back which was always a good sign for an opponent like Spot, to show him that he was winning on intimidation alone.

"Firecracker." Spot said casually, "What do you think?"

Firecracker? I didn't see him anywhere…until he emerged from a shadow just behind his leader, red hair blazing in the dim light. How did he do that? "Ise is thinking dat dey wanted ta show Brooklyn a thing or two. How 'bout you boss?"

"Well Ise is thinking youse is right." Spot smirked. "Ain't he boys?"

"No, no wese was just…" Both boys fumbled for words as yet another Brooklyn newsie emerged from the shadows and then another. In a shot of desperation the silent goon jumped back and wrapped his arm around my neck but I slammed my elbow back into his softer gut, a move I had been using a lot recently, and he loosened his grip enough for me to tear away before I slipped in the mud and crashed into the wall beside us. The added force of pushing away from him made my head crack sickeningly. Another thing that seemed to keep happening, why do I keep getting his in the head?

Before I could react the silent one was behind me again pushing my face and front roughly against the stone wall. "Birds 'o a feather should die together, right Spot?" He seethed.

What the hell did that mean? I didn't spend too much time wondering as I was currently being suffocated by a wall.

"See there you go again." I couldn't see Spot but I could hear him, "You mean lots of harm to me and Brooklyn ya stupid apes." He paused before adding, "The goil is mine, as in my possession, when she's back to Jack youse can do whatever ya want with her but foah now…well…" I could hear the stormy chuckle in his voice.

I wasn't sure what was going on but I heard a bit of a tussle and then Spot whisper quietly just behind the hand holding me. "You have da nerve ta come ta my turf and threaten my Brooklyn. Ya don't mess with Brooklyn boyo unless youse want Brooklyn ta mess with you."

A hand roughly dragged the one on me off and another took hold of my arm dragging me down the alley way before the voice it was attached to stated darkly. "Give them a message boys and tell them to bring it back to Smirks."

All I heard after that were feet running and the shouts of pain caused by flesh hitting flesh.

Spot kept moving though, his grip on my arm hard as we moved down the street. I could feel my energy draining and the cold kicking in fully, I shook in his grasp and remembered I what Firecracker had told me about warming my chest. I tried to pull my arm out of Spot's grasp.

"No ya don't." He said simply coming to a halt and jerking me around to face him. "Ise is not gonna save ya from ya own stupidity again. Ya hear me? If youse wasn't under my ownership I woulda left ya there ta die. Ya got me?"

His eyes are sharp and angry as his tone, the lines clear.

I went to nod but that made my head hurt and my knees weak, which they already were due to the shivering. So I simply said, "Yes." Looking away from his eyes.

I felt the rough skin of his free hand take hold of my chin and turn it up to him. "Look at me when you speak if you're gonna be the one who costs Brooklyn it's separation."

He was so present it was overwhelming and so was my headache. My legs began to falter. God damn it could this get any worse? I thought as I caught myself halfway unable to straight completely as my body tried to warm itself in vain by closing in. He would leave me there. He had already saved me tonight, surprising as it had been. But I had also just gotten him involved with the war, or maybe I had. I wasn't really sure.

But tonight was a night for surprises I suppose as I saw Spot look left and right before heading down a backstreet to our left. "Follow me."

Still slightly hunched over I forced myself to walk, steeling myself for punishment or interrogation or whatever was to come, and followed as best I could.

We passed a few bums sleeping out because they had nowhere else to go; they paid us no mind so I ignored them as well. I saw him come to a stop just outside of a small storm cellar. I'm not exactly sure what he did but suddenly it was open and he was walking in so I followed suit. Why wouldn't I? It was definitely warmer and dryer than where I had been. Even if only by a little.

Inside I found a small cot with a hole filled blanket covering it, this filled most of the small space. Water was leaking in from above in a few spaces and it smelled of mildew but other than that it was fine.

"Stay." Spot told me. It wasn't like I was going anywhere though; I suppose my body mostly decided to give up then. My head was really hurting too. Still. I landed on my knees and hunched over trying to rub my hands along my sides to create heat. Screw Spot, being a newsie meant being a survivor and I was both.

I heard Spot close the door, darkness filled the room spare a few cracks in the large cellar doors that let the little remaining light in. Shivering I heard my own teeth chatter, it wasn't even that I was cold anymore. It was that I wasn't anything. I couldn't feel any of it, only the steady throbbing in my skull.

"Take ya shirt off." He told me as he crossed the room. I just stared at him, my brain not really working as he lit a match and put it to the wick of a small candle that had been on the floor. When he turned to see I had made no progress he simply rolled his eyes as he began to undo the buttons of his own shirts, sliding his suspenders down. "If I wanted ta take advantage of ya I would have already ya dumb dame."

Normally I would have yelled at anyone for calling me that but at the moment my brain was still remembering why he would ask me to do that otherwise. Right, I thought, the shirt is cold and wet and so when you are cold and wet you need to take off the clothes that are keeping you…cold and wet.

I know the inner workings of my mind in that moment were subpar but that's what they were. Slowly I fumbled with the buttons but my numb fingers were slow and shaking too hard to really work. With a scoff I guess Spot got tired of watching me and came over, crouching down next to me his fingers quickly leaving the shirt open before he started on the next. There was a speed to this that would have made me uncomfortable otherwise, it must have shown on my face because he smirked down at his work. Not saying a word.

I tried to slide the top shirt off myself as he slipped his shirt off revealing his white undershirt. He pulled me over to the bed. When I tensed up he said, "Oh relax."

Pulling me into his lap I felt something that I never had before. Like I have said I'm not one for being violated, though I don't know if this really counts since he was in fact helping me. Even with Racetrack I never let things get very far, Blitz told me that's why he dropped me. Sometimes she's a bitch…but sometimes she's right too.

Anyway, he wrapped one arm around my stomach and up toward the other side of my chest, the other over my arms so his hand was resting on the opposite. Despite having been in the rain his body was much warmer than mine and as he rubbed the circulation back into me my shivers slowly began to still and I relaxed.

I was so tired at one point my eyes started to close. "Don't fall asleep." He muttered. "Damn kid. Jackie boy askin' me foah favors, makin' me save his little girlie from freezin' and…damn kid."

"I'm sorry…" I mumbled back.

"Yoah damn well should be." But something in his voice made me feel like he might have been happy he saved me. It was like the Spot who had carried Swipes away that night.

In the candle light I could see the muscles in his arms moving back and forth as his hands went against my skin. Much appreciated warmth spreading through me. Something about his touch made me think about home, Jack and Race and Blink and Molly and…

Though I knew I was okay now, I was fine, and I should move away from him something made me not want to. His strong hands made it hard to shove him away, because I really didn't want to, though this was strange and unnecessary, I really didn't.

I was sitting in a storm cellar.

With the fiercest borough leader in all of New York.

And my shirt was hanging open.

But I was safe.

But I wasn't that kind of girl who died with a little bit of attention anymore. I wasn't. And this wasn't attention.

I needed space.

Pushing myself up I moved away from him now.

"What? Not happy with me company?" He smirked at me cockily.

"I'm sure there are plenty of girls who would be." I told him back. I was tired and though thankful he had saved me not in the mood for the sarcasm of a boy who got every girl he wanted.

"Don't worry I'm not in the mood for yoah's either. Just needed to make sure ya survived."

I paused for a moment before saying. "Thank you. I…I owe you one."

"Yes. Yes ya do."

That stopped me in my movements for a second before I continued. He still leaned against the wall on the cot, watching me. It was a bit unsettling now.

"So how did ya get dat scar on ya face?" He asked bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

"Ya heard me. How'd ya get it?" His tone was disinterested but clear.

Since I felt a wary about answering questions but knew if I didn't he would somehow find out the truth I simply stated, "I don't know, I've had it since before I can remember." I ran my fingers over the white mark that marred my appearance. That made it so I could never be as beautiful as Marquee or as sexy as Blitz.

But it made me tough, at least in looks, so that was something.

I turned to see him nod thoughtfully like he had when he had agreed I was nothing to him or Brooklyn. Which was technically true.

That made me remember…

"You don't own me." I told him.

His eyes jerked to meet mine aggressively. The storm rolled slightly in his glance. "Oh yes I do. And don't ya go tellin' anyone otherwise until ya month is up."

There was a finality in what he said that was so strong I wasn't sure how to proceed other than just staring at him with all my might before going back to pick up my other shirt from the floor.

There was a creak as he went to lay back on the cot. "Ya got a sweetheart Hummingbird?"

Bluntness was his specialty at the moment I suppose.

"None of your business."

"Of course it's me business." His voice was cool, commanding. Wind made the doors to the cellar rattle.

"No it ain't." I told him as I finished getting ready before turning back, and he laughed. That confused me. "What's so funny?"

His face immediately became blank in the candlelight "Nothin'."

Boys could be so frustrating. "It was definitely somethin'!" My voice rose a bit as he laughed again, louder. "Where are we anyway?"

Sitting up he slid his suspenders over his shoulders before his eyes scanned the floor for his shirt. "Brooklyn."

I rolled my eyes at him and then realizing he might not have seen in the dark I added, "I meant where is this room."

He smirked and looked up at me. "It's where I take me ladies when Ise want some privacy."

"You-"

"I'd watch what I say if Ise was youse little goil." He told me, his voice suddenly become dark again. Like it had before. "I'd remember where I am and who I'm with."

And very quickly my brain started to remember who I really was with, who I was being sassy to, and who I honestly did now owe my life to. It was Spot Conlon. I don't know why I hadn't noticed when he stood up but all of a sudden he was there, standing in front of me and I…was incredibly intimidated.

He stared down at me for a moment, I could almost feel the silence covering the room before he said, "Ya too nice foah Brooklyn."

I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Because he was right…I was too nice for Brooklyn, and that's not something I'd normally admit if I was anywhere else.

His gaze softened for a moment before he turned away. "Firecracker will come and get ya in about ten minutes. Do go anywhere until he does."

"Why can't I just got back?" I asked stupidly.

He didn't even turn to me as he began to open the cellar doors. "Because I have places ta be dat youse have no business bein'." Then after a pause he added, "It's stopped rainin', no one else but Brooklyn know where dis place is…see ya around doll."

So this is a safe house. I realized as he went up the steps, they creaked and cracked as he moved up them sounding as tired and weighted as I felt.

"Oh and Hum?" He said from the top. I looked to him, curious. "Try not ta need any more savin' tonight. Other goils might start to get jealous."

As the doors slammed shut and the light of the candle became my soul resource I could almost see him smirking in my mind's eye. The storm brewing in his eyes with a the mist churning teasingly in its wind.

Damn boys.

Thank you to:

Elasaid Una for constant encouragement.
Moonlight0 for the kind review, it meant so much.
ElleestJenn for going back to remember what the story was about and then reviewing.
And to everyone else who reads or has read this so far (: