When she shuffled into line the next morning, Kat wondered when, if ever, she would be accepted by her fellow Brooklynites. She didn't demand intimate friendships, only expressions that didn't threaten bodily harm.

She was exasperatingly far from the head of the line, which meant additional time in endangered territory. Even Spot's assumed presence did little to comfort her. He was stonily stoic as he'd been at the docks the evening before and she wondered whether this or his insolent and smugly charming self was more common. She wasn't sure yet which she preferred.

There were snickers coming from behind her and although she couldn't hear the muttered words exactly, she felt certain that they were about her. Kat pulled her neck down so that the base of her hat touched the collar of her shirt, wishing that she were a turtle so that her head might disappear entirely. Unfortunately she had not this skill, and when a hand tapped her shoulder she was forced to turn around. She didn't recognize the boys behind her, but from their sinisterly gleeful expressions she was about to.

"'Ey Doll face." said the one in front with a leering smile. He had long black hair that fell over his face and stuck out well under his hat. Perfect white teeth shown in his smile; a scar marked his broad face along the right side. It pulled down the corner of his eye slightly. For some reason, he reminded her of a pirate. She made no move to return his greeting but watched him guardedly.

"What was the name again?" He asked. Kat swallowed and dug her nails into already sweaty palms.

"Kat."

"Kat? Like… what? A bobcat? Are you feral?" he added suggestively. The boys behind him chuckled. Pirate glanced back at them before leaning forward with a widening grin.

Partly because she didn't know what it meant, and partly because she didn't like the way he'd asked it, she remained silent. She glanced around to see if any of the other newsies could be of any help to her. Spot wasn't there. Neither was William or Peter. She had been hoping that their lack of hostility would come in handy.

"Cat got your tongue?" Pirate sneered and his posse burst out in laughter. Kat fixed him with the fiercest scowl she could muster and was pleased to see brief hesitation. But he quickly recovered.

"So that was the answer to my previous question?" He said it like he didn't expect an answer, just to get a reaction from her. But she still didn't know what the question had meant, so she stayed sulky and quiet.

"So, Kat, excuse me for not introducing myself. I'm Gibbs. This is Tinker, Coal, and Crop." She didn't bother looking at the faces of the other three.

"It's so nice that you're here with us." Gibbs continued. "We've never had a girl working with us before. Or living with us for that matter. But you know Conlon- he always was one for convenience." This comment earned another round of guffaws from his cronies and a grimace from Kat.

"Excuse me?" she squeaked, so offended that her words spilled out before she could remember her aloof approach and stop them. Gibbs' laughter died out but there was still pleasure on his face.

"I bet he's been a real gentleman, huh? I'm sure he's been perfectly accommodating." His superior use of language was maddening. Only by his snide tone did she know to be infuriated.

"You sharin' a bed with him yet? We always wonder how he does it- blondes, brunettes, shy ones, smart ones, mean ones, and older ones, but all of 'em stunning. And somehow he manages to keep 'em as long as he wants. You'll tell us, won't you? What it is that he finally does to bed you? We're so curious."

At this point they were all howling with laughter. Kat was clenching her teeth and her fists, blushing up to her hairline with angry tears pricking in her eyes. She felt the familiar twitch of muscle that would send her fist flying into his stupid, scarred face. She longed to have some witty comeback, but she was so angry she hadn't a clue about what to say. So Gibbs went on.

"I helped bring you in the other night, you know. You weren't very heavy so I'd believe it if you told us he forced himself on you. But he's never had a girl who wasn't happy to have him. And you were a pretty good little runner, I'll give you that. Maybe you can hold your own…" He was thinking more to himself now, although aloud, for her benefit. "I just don't know what to think." His incredulity was forged with contempt, his eyes alight with the thrill of a good game.

Behind Kat, the man waiting to sell her papers asked how many she wanted without looking up from his ledger.

"50." She growled, adding five more to her usual number because she had an audience.

Then she hit him.

Gibbs' nose made a satisfying crunch when her fist sailed into it, backed by all the force her little body could pack. His breath whooshed out of his chest in surprise as his head snapped back. The laughter of his friends was immediately cut off.

There was a complete and heavy silence as Gibbs looked up from where his nose dripped.

"So you've already slept with him then."

Something like a snarl leaked from Kat's lips as she dove at him for a second time. In her mind, he didn't stand a chance. In reality, she was asking to die. Gibbs own roar sounded and he met her head-on. Kat's yelp of pain attracted the attention of the 5 remaining people who had yet to realize that there was a fight going on, and everyone in the distribution center stared on in a kind of shock that rarely plagued Brooklyn residents.

"Enough." Spot's voice cracked like a whip through the masses. He strolled forward as Gibbs and Kat pulled away from each other. Kat's lip was split and a scab on her cheek had been reopened. Her hat was on the ground; her hair hung around her face in knots. Her chest heaved with Gibbs' who was experiencing similar pain with a broken nose.

They glowered at one another as Spot stopped in front of them.

"What." He demanded. "What da hell is goin on 'ere?" He looked back and forth between the two of them until he realized that their silence was going to persist. His eyes glowed; his nostrils flared.

"There isn't any trouble here, Spot." Gibbs quipped up. He was much-accustomed to the warning signs of eminent explosion.

"Kat an' I just had a misunderstanding. She isn't aware of how things work around here."

Kat's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, shoih, Gibbs," Spot replied. "Enlighten me."

"The young lady here was simply embarrassed by the implications of your relationship."

"The hell I was!" she yelled and sprung once again at his face. She was airborne when steel arms fettered around her waist and yanked her back.

"I said enough." Spot's deadly voice was barely above a whisper in her ear. Kat hung limply against his chest, her feet having given out from under her,drooping against his arms. Her head lolled back as she tried to catch her breath, her cheek resting in the crook of his neck.

"Get sellin'." He ordered, and his newsies scattered. Gibbs lowered his eyes and hurried by in hopes of avoiding Spot's rebuke. Faster than Kat would've dreamed was possible, Spot had torn his arms from around her waist and thrown Gibbs up into the wall with his fists in tight balls on his chest. Nose to nose, Spot hissed in his face.

"Consider dat goil mah property, Gibbs, an' treat 'er dat way. Dere won' be any mo' trouble." His voice lowered so that she had to strain to hear.

"What I plan ta do wid 'er an' whose bed she ends up in is my business. Keep yer nose out of it. Or it'll end up busted again."

Gibbs nodded.

"Yeah, Spot. Fine." He nodded, and slinked off when Spot let him go. Spot kept his back to her for a moment before turning slowly with accusatory eyes.

"Yer turnin' out ta be moah trouble den yer worth." He asserted. Kat laughed once without humor.

"I'll do better." Her tone was lightly sarcastic. Spot smirked for the first time since the first day and looked at her knowingly.

"Looks like ya' need ta start suckin' up ta me, huh?"

This time her laugh was sincere.

"Don't hold your breath."

Spot stepped around her to pull her papers off of the counter and sling them up on his shoulder. His own papers he kept under his other arm.

"C'mon." He ordered. Kat tossed her money onto the counter and hurried after him.

"Are you selling with me today?" She asked incredulously as she caught up to him.

"No, you're sellin' wid me." He turned his head to the side and winked at her.

"How come?" She really didn't want to sell with him. Although she usually did alright, she was afraid of feeling self-conscious with such a master newsie at her side.

Spot raised an eyebrow at her and his mouth straightened into a line.

"'Cause I said I was. Is dere a problem wid dat?"

She shook her head as he smacked her papers into her stomach.

"No problem. I don't mind."

The smirk was back on his face and he stalled his walk to let her catch up.

"Good." He rumbled in her ear, stooping a bit to accommodate the height difference. "Ya get da benefit of obsoivin' me no charge." Kat pushed at his arm and wrinkled her nose as she laughed at him. She definitely preferred this side of him now, obnoxious as it could be. She followed him to a street corner she didn't recognize, hoping he realized she'd be lost if he left her. He turned back to her with a mischievous grin on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"Just play along, aight?"

She regarded him with mounting suspicion.

"Okay…."

"What kinda' actor are ya'? Kin ya keep up?" Spot prodded, his eyes sparkling with child-like excitement. Kat couldn't help but laugh at his exuberance.

"I think I can play along." She assured him, smiling with unexpected fondness at her new leader. Having been so assured, he stashed his papers off to the side behind a building. When he turned back around his face was terrifying. His brow was furrowed over tumultuous eyes and his mouth contorted into a grimace. He stalked up to her and grabber her arm, shaking her violently so that she dropped her papers.

"How stupid can you get?!" He hollered in her face. "Ya don' know notin'!" Kat blinked in surprise and tried to step back but his hands held her firmly where she was.

"Answer me! Ya' tell me right now! I ain't playin' no games wid you!" But he was playing games, she realized. For some reason or another he wanted to stage a fight. She could manage that.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes and her lip quivering.

"I can't tell you, I made a promise."

Spot's stormy face became stormier- something she hadn't thought possible.

"Promise 'er not. Yer gonna' tell me!" He was in her face, hands tight around the tops of her arms and screaming. Everyone around them was staring.

"I can't!" Kat persisted. Spot reared back and let his hand shoot forward, snapping across her cheek. She stared in shock. Her face didn't hurt. Somehow he'd stopped his hand just in time to avoid inflicting any real pain. But to the on-lookers, he'd hit her. Now he scooped up his papers and stormed off down the street. This was unexpected. She still wasn't sure why they'd just put on their little show and now he was gone. Her answer came bustling up a minute later.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" asked a middle-aged woman.

Kat put her puppy dog eyes back in place and nodded forlornly.

"Yes." She sniffed. The woman looked from side to side- strangers were not supposed to be so kind in Brooklyn.

"Well, here- let me at least by a paper." Oh. Spot Conlon was a brilliant, brilliant man. They made the transaction and Kat slumped to the curb where she was approached by six more women. She was chuckling maniacally to herself when the last women walked away. That took care of the additional papers she'd bought that day. She looked around for Spot but didn't see him nearby. Brilliant but stupid. Now she was stuck on that corner until he came back.

* * *

A couple hours later she heard him behind her.

"About time you got here." she was joking when she spun around. But it wasn't Spot. Gibbs stooped in front of her with distrust coloring his every feature. Kat felt the smile slide from her face. He took a step towards her. Kat took a step back. They continued on in this manner halfway across the street before Gibbs put an end to it.

"Why do you keep doing that?!" He exclaimed in agitation.

"Oh, I'm sorry- am I bothering you?" She spat. "I'm not allowed to get into any more trouble."

"I'm not here to be trouble." He replied. And he didn't take any more steps forward. "I wanted to say…" he glanced around. " I wanted to say that I was impressed by the way you handled yourself earlier. You sure can pack a punch." He added. Kat laughed once.

"Thanks. So can you." He nodded his thanks. They stood that way, in the middle of the street regarding each other with caution before Gibbs straightened and began to back away.

"This doesn't make us friends. Don't expect me to like you or anything." He warned. She felt her face fall though she wished she could keep from reacting.

"Fine with me." She replied. And Gibbs left.

This time it was Spot behind her. He stalked right up to her so that his chest pressed into her back and she jumped before spinning around.

"Oh! Hi. You're back."

He grinned in amusement.

"'Course I'm back. How'd our performance woik out?"

"I sold six papers thanks to you. So here." She held up half of the money she'd made. Spot took it without reservation and crammed it into his pocket. For the first time Kat noticed that he wasn't carrying any papers.

"Are you done selling?" She asked. And when he nodded, "All your papers? How many do you sell?"

He smirked and puffed out his chest.

"75."

With wide eyes she took a step back and looked him up and down reverently.

" Impressive."

He laughed and looked at the sizeable stack still under her arm.

"You've got all dat still ta' go?"

She scowled.

"Yes."

"Give some 'ere." He ordered, and when she gave him half he strolled off again. Kat watched him go; she followed his lithe stride with her eyes, admiring the graceful way he carried himself. Chuckling aloud at her own girlish thoughts, she turned back to the street and resumed hawking headlines.

* * *

Three hours later she bought some bread from a street vendor and sprawled in the shade of a nearby factory to enjoy it. As she was eating, a man burst from the factory door, dragging a young girl by the arm. He wore a huge apron streaked with filth, and his face was grimy with dirt and sweat.

"Get out you lousy little thief!" He yelled as he tossed the young girl into the street. She couldn't have been more than ten but she pulled herself to her feet and scampered away with tears running down her cheeks. Kat felt her face contort in concern. She considered going after the child to make sure that she was alright, but the man was still outside and he scared her. When she looked back at him, he was also looking at her.

"Hey." He called, and Kat was horrified to see that he was yelling at her. "Hey, kid! Come 'ere!" She slipped to her feet and took a few steps back, shifting to the balls of her feet.

"C'mon, kid. Don't stand there all day, get over here!"

"Get back ta' woik, Ben!" came a familiar voice from across the street as Spot sauntered up. "Dis one's wid me."

The man called Ben grimaced but nodded to him.

"Sure, Spot. Sorry about that- see you around."

"You kin count on dat." He affirmed as he reached her side. He watched Ben warily as he went back inside the factory. Kat looked up at Spot. He looked down, into her eyes, but said nothing. His eyes were liquid cobalt, warm and fluid and exhilarating.

"What just happened?" she asked finally, when his eyes brought thoughts to her mind that made her glad he couldn't hear them.

"I don' wancha' sellin on dis street no moah. Got dat?" He asked. His voice was serious but his face passive. She nodded obediently and looked down to brush at the invisible crumbs on her pants.

Spot held out a fistful of coins.

"From yer papes." He explained when she raised an eyebrow. "You done sellin' yet?"

"Yeah, Spot, I'm done."

"Good. Les' go 'ome." He turned in the last direction she would've picked, proving that she was completely lost, and began the walk back to the warehouse. Kat scuttled after him, and as they walked, she began to wonder about her future in Brooklyn. She was so unsure about why Spot had chosen for her to stay in the first place. The boys didn't like her and although Spot seemed to, Kat knew his reputation and that he probably only tolerated her. Brooklyn was a harsh and terrifying place. She was glad to be with him as they walked the streets. The factories spewed billows of smoke and the clay buildings absorbed the heat of the sun so that the brush of a building would do everything but burn your skin. In spite of all this, Kat liked her new job. Her old life was not something she wanted to return to. For the first time since she'd left, she thought of Kyle and wondered if he was looking for her. If he were, she reasoned, he would never think to look for her as a newsie in Brooklyn.

"Spot?" she began hesitantly. He didn't look at her but tilted his head to the side. " Do you… I mean, can I…" She cleared her throat and tried again. "I like it here, Spot. Can I please stay?" He laughed, with a tinge of condescendence, as the warehouse came into view.

"I asked yata woik fa' me, remembah? Coise ya kin stay. Yer sleepin in ma bed." He laughed again and she snickered too.

"I guess that was a stupid question."

Spot looked at her in agreement. She elbowed his arm.

"'Ey! I let dat slide oilier but dere won' be any touchin a me like dat. In dat violent way."

They laughed together, Spot harder when he slung an arm over her shoulder and she jumped and looked up in shock. But she didn't shrug his arm off-she wasn't sure if she wanted to- until they were entering the warehouse. Then she slipped out from under his arm and opened a side door to enter. Spot didn't seem at all phased when she glanced back at him. He winked at her and shooed her away to talk to the twins.

****** Thanks to the people who have reviewed so far! I'm always anxious to hear what you think so keep it up :) Love you guys!