WOW! I'm on a roll! So many chapters in so little days! Keep those reviews coming!

Dedicated to Jeremy Jordan, we'll get married someday.

In Manhattan:

"Do you think we can visit her?"

It was late at night, Tumbler and Tinker, the two youngest boys, were whispering to each other in the bunk they shared. Being the youngest, they had been "adopted" by Skeeter and regarded her as the mother they never had.

"I dunno Tum, ain't Brooklyn far!"

They stopped talking quickly as Race, above them, grunted, tormented by nightmares that Skeeter was hurt, dead, or worse.

When Race had finally stopped tossing, the boys resumed their conversation.

"C'mon Tink, let's go! Instead o' sellin' papes tamarah, we'll go visit her! We'll bring her flowers and her favorite slinging shot!"

Tinker looked doubtfully at his friend, but his love for Skeeter won over his fear of getting caught by Cowboy.

"Ok, Tum, we'll go tomorrow. 'Member, we can't tell no one! Else Cowboy might get mad and yell at us like the time he did when he caught us making papah people"

The boys shuddered, remembering that time. Cowboy kept yelling about them wasting merchandise and they had kept crying. Finally, Skeeter had come to their rescue. She was like an angel, standing up to Scary Jack then. She had pushed him and told him to stop threatening them. Then she had hugged them and told them everything would be alright. No one had ever stood up to Jack before that.

The boys made a solemn oath to tell no one and they drifted off to sleep, dreaming of tomorrow when they would see their beloved 'Mama'.

It was near two in the morning by the time Spot had finished telling his story and had fallen asleep, but Skeeter was still wide awake, trying to process what she had just learned from the "egotistical jerk".

Curled up in the corner, Skeeter still refused to sleep near Spot. She glanced up out the window, trying to organize her thoughts neatly, but she couldn't think straight.

So that's why he did it. But, it doesn't make any sense. No sense at all!

He said he had taken over Brooklyn from the Butcher two years ago, Skeeter remembered Butcher.

He was a big burly kid who had rightfully earned his name by killing anyone who stood in his way. She was only thirteen when he had "disappeared" and Spot had taken over.

Spot was still "new" according to the other boroughs, he was tough alright, but he was still new. Apparently, he *didn't know why he took Skeeter* but if it would show the other boroughs that Spot Conlon meant business, then he was all for it.

He added that she was a pretty little thing, something *good* to show off at parties. Skeeter slapped him, the slimy piece of vermin.

On an endnote, Spot said he has now planned to make her a boidie (no one suspected a goil was spying on them), a house keeper (he still didn't listen when she argued that she had burnt water) and keep her in Brooklyn.

Forever.

This can't be happening.

"Hey Mush!" Jack called out to the handsome newsie.

The boys were at the distribution center, everyone had just finished buyin' their papes and were heading off to sell.

Mush reluctantly bade goodbye to the pretty goil he was talking to and faced his leader.

"C'mon, Jacky! I was makin' a move! I almost got her to go to Medda's wit me!"

"Later Mush, you know you'll just get anudder one"

Mush nodded truthfully and Jack continued,

"I want youse to sell wid Tumbler and Tinker, today. They didn't buy many papes and they looked suspicus…sispicio…susupiciousis…guilty."

"Cowboy! I don't have no time to babysit!"

"Make time, Mush. Now go find 'em!"

Mush grumbled and walked away to find the two little boys he was supposed to watch.

Skeeter had woken up at the crack of dawn, determined to get up before Spot. She noted the gathering clouds in the sky, a telltale sign of a storm, and found her way down to the kitchen.

Spot wants a cook, I'll show him a cook

In the cupboards, she found two bread rolls, some cheese, and three dozen eggs.

Taking care to set one egg aside, Skeeter did her best to boil the rest.

When they looked safe enough to eat, Skeeter arranged the bread, cheese, and eggs (still in their shells) on the plates.

When the boys, groggy and irritated as boys typically are that time of day, they gratefully accepted Skeeter's cooking.

"Tanks, missus!" cried one little boy with gap teeth.

Skeeter smiled at him, he reminded her of her own dear "children" back in Manhattan. The older boys blushed and murmured how grateful they were.

Only a few had the guts to flirt with her, but they were quickly silenced once Spot came down. Smiling to herself, Skeeter gave him his breakfast, set aside from the others.

"Tanks, doll" he shouted to her, doing his best to embarrass her in front of his newsies.

"See fellas, dere ain't no goil who can resist my charms. It's the same wid all women, dese weak when it comes to charms" Spot boasted to his friends.

Skeeter edged closer to him, trying to keep her anger at the boy under control.

Spot smiled at her and took the bread and the cheese and tried to shell the egg. But it wasn't the cooked egg, it was raw. And it splattered all over the King of Brooklyn's nicest shirt and pants.

Roaring with rage, Spot clenched his fists and advanced upon Skeeter.

"You little, I'll-"

"You said you wanted me to cook, Spot, so I cooked. And not all goils are weak when it comes to your so called charms!" Skeeter ran back into the kitchen while the newsies nervously laughed and eyes Spot, careful not to be on the receiving end of his rage.

Spot glared at her receeding form, vowing to find her weak spot and get revenge.

Those newsies who knew him well saw his ice blue eyes contract, forming a plan to make Skeeter pay.

"C'mon Tink! Wese lost him!"

Tumbler and Tinker had waited hours for Mush to get distracted by a pretty goil so they could escape.

Being so young, they couldn't understand why the boys liked them. Besides, Skeeter, they were all prissy and had cooties. Yuck.

The two boys threw down their papes and raced across the Brooklyn Bridge and into the other territory. Little did they know, they were being watched and followed by some very territorial boidies with orders from a very angry leader.

"Hey Tum?" Tink whispered, they were in one of Brooklyn's many alleys and were very very lost after a couple hours of aimless wondering with a purpose.

"Yeah Tink?" Tumbler whispered back.

"Wheres are we?"

Two ice cold hands snatched the back of the boys' shirts and held them in the air,

"You're in Brooklyn boys, trespassing in the wrong territory!"

The sound of their screams echoed in the labyrinth of alleys and streets, but no one could help them now.

Oooohhhh! Cliff hanger! I noticed a lot of reviews said the last chapter wasn't what y'all were expecting, hopefully this one isn't either! I don't want to be too predictable! Anyway, review review.

Plot Call!

Anyone with a good idea for a plot line, twist, I don't really know, feel free to message me!

The next installment should be published within the next week, hang tights!

*To all you who didn't believe in me, I won't give up on this story! Promise!