"It's time to go." Spot felt bad making Spark leave, but Mr. and Ms. Casella would be worried if she came in late.

Spot and Spark walked the Brooklyn Bridge in silence. Most of his guys went home earlier. For Spot, it felt good to walk the streets at night. He had time to think. It was actually a nice change. Spot was surrounded by people all the time. People who feared him. People who depended on him. He couldn't remember the last time he thought about himself and only himself. But he was a leader. It was what he was supposed to do. And he knew it.

Spot could walk the streets of Brooklyn with his eyes closed. Even when it was dark out he knew exactly where he was. Making all the right turns, he and Spark came to the girls' lodging house. He knew Chase would want a full report. He would make sure to leave out the part out about getting on the front page of "The Sun". She wouldn't read the paper if they were on strike, right?

Chase stood in front of the mirror, tying rags in her wet hair to curl it. Chase prided herself in her appearance. It was something that didn't leave her when she left the upper class to be a newsie. She always made sure her hair was done nicely, she only wore trousers in the wintertime when it was cold, and her clothes were always clean. Yes, it was difficult work on mere pennies, but she managed.

"Chase," Chase felt a tug at her nightgown. She looked down and saw big blue eyes staring up at her, with a crown of golden hair. It was Ellie, one of the younger girls, she was only 6 years old. "there's someone at the window for you."

"Did Spark get locked out again?" Chase said.

"No, I'm right here." Spark came through the door and flopped down on the first bed she saw. It had been an exhausting day.

"Maybe it's your boyfriend." Story teased.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do!"

"What?" Chase felt her face flush.

"Spot is so handsome," said Katrina, the youngest girl at 5 years old. She ran to the window. Her dark brown curls bounced as she waved. "He makes my heart beat really fast!"

Chase just stood there. She didn't want Spot to see her right now, with her hair tied up in knots. And she wasn't wearing her camisole.

"Come on!" Katrina exclaimed as she and Ellie grabbed Chase's wrists and dragged her to the open window. Chase reluctantly followed. Spot stared at her from the street for a second.

"Hi," he said, "Oh. Wow. You look-"

"Shut up." Chase blushed, but she smiled.

"I was just going to say 'stunning'." He said innocently. Chase smiled bigger so you could see her dimples, which just made Spot smile back.

"Will you too lovebirds get on with it!" said Spark from behind. Chase pushed her away from the window. Thankful that Spot hadn't heard her.

"So," said Chase, turning back to Spot. "what is it?"

Spot paused uncomfortably.

"Um...I think we're winning."

"Yeah, I know." she threw a paper at him and it hit him in the face. Chase winced a little, she didn't mean to hit him necessarily. It was a copy of "The Sun", the one with Spot's picture on the cover.

"Oh, you saw that?" he said quietly.

"Mmhm..."

"Yeah... Sorry." Spot said, not that sincere.

"Ok, yeah, that's very convincing." Chase said sarcastically.

"Well wha'da ya want me to say?"

"Nothing." Chase smiled at Spot's confusion. She liked to trip him up from time to time, he wasn't always the tough, intimidating King of Brooklyn all the time.

"How was your day?" he asked her.

Chase just smiled, mischievously and looked behind her.

Spot cocked his head and then jumped back, avoiding the hundreds of newspapers that were being thrown at him from the window. And they just kept coming.

Spot stared at the pile of papes in front of him. There had to be thousands, all copies of "The World" and "The Journal". The girls upstairs giggled.

"Where did you get all these?" he asked.

"Did you even read the paper or were you just gazing at your own 'puss'? Page 9." said Chase. Spot raised an eyebrow at Chase's sudden use of street slang as he picked up the paper. It didn't suit her. He couldn't really read the paper in the dim light, but the article said something about newsgirls and the strike. "I told you I wouldn't let you have all the fun."

"What happened?" his eyes widened a little.

"We went out this morning and stood in front of the distribution building."

"And?"

"And when the scabs came out they were scared with all of us in their way, so they threw down their papers and ran. A lot of them joined the strike, too. It happened all day."

"How many joined?"

"Six hundred."

"Six HUNDRED?" Spot gaped at her.

"Yeah," Chase said proudly. "The guys helped us get some of "The Journal"'s newsies too."

Spot stared at Chase, amazed. She loved it.

Mush felt everyone's eyes on him as he went down the stairs the next morning. They knew that they would be seeing Spark again today and all the boys were waiting to see what Mush would do. It was so unlike them to be into the confusing drama that is love, it was more his thing. The room was silent and Mush didn't like it. He took a breath and walked outside. But Spark wasn't there. He looked up into her usual tree next to the lodging house. No, she wasn't there either. Maybe Race's joke last night embarassed her.

"Um... Ok. W-we should head out there now. Carryin' da ban- I mean, Strike!" Instead of going out the door, Mush went back up the stairs. The newsies thought he was crazy, but they didn't follow him. He had just forgotten his hat.

Jack stared at the portrait, his eyes wide. He knew it. He knew he had seen that girl before. It bothered him for days that he couldn't remember where he had seen her before, but this morning he finally recalled. She had the same playful smile, the same defiant eyes, same dimples, everything.

Jack was still looking at the picture when he heard footsteps.

"Hey Jack," said Mush, grabbing his hat. "what's that you got there?"

"Oh, um. It's your Bible. It uh, I found it on the floor next to my bed." Jack closed the Bible and slid it under Mush's pillow. Mush blinked at him. "Hey Mush, I got a job for you."

"Ok, what is it?"

Jack motioned Mush to follow him downstairs. He borrowed a pencil and a scrap of paper from Kloppman.

"I need you to go to Brooklyn for me." he said as he wrote.

"What, why?" Mush said.

"I need you to take Spot Conlon a message about the rally coming up."

"But why me? I've never even been to Brooklyn."

Jack stared at him for a second.

"Because- Because you're the only one that can do it. Me and Dave have to stay here and plan the rally. And I can't send any a' the other guys, they're still scared of Spot."

"What about Racetrack? He goes to Sheepshead every day so he knows the area."

"I, uh, I got another job for him to do."

"But-"

"Plus, you're the only one smart enough to read a map." Jack crossed his arms. "Wha'da ya say?"

Mush sighed.

"I'll do it."

"Great."

Chase's morning was going nicely until she reached the pier. Once again Spot refused to let her or any of the girls leave Brooklyn. Chase wanted to see the strike in action. She wanted to fight alongside Spot and Jack and all of the newsies and beat Pulitzer and Hearst. She didn't want to wait around to hear the news, she wanted to be the news.

"After all we did yesterday." She fumed.

"I know," said Story.

"Do I get a 'thank you'? No!"

Spark started. "Well, actually-"

She was pacing up and down the pier. "He says we're supposed to be having a meeting and yet he's just sitting up there on that throne of his. I want to do something! This is not a holiday, this is a strike. We're losing money every day we don't work and we're not doing anything about it." Maybe it was the summer heat getting to her, but Chase was feeling particularly antsy.

"Chase," said Story. "Just be patient. Spot's probably just trying to figure out our next move."

"Yeah," said Spark. "This is pretty much what they do in Manhattan anyway. Just a lot of sitting around and picketing."

Chase sat down and crossed her arms. "I know," she said. "I'm just tired of feeling useless. You and the boys get all of the fun while I'm stuck here with all of the kids."

"Spot just doesn't want you to get hurt." Story said.

Chase sighed, "He's been protecting me for the last three years. He needs to understand that I'm not a sheltered little rich girl anymore. I'm a newsie."

Sometimes Chase felt like she had traded the bondage of high society for the nearly equal stifling protection from Spot Conlon. The only difference was that she didn't need to sit up perfectly straight (although this habit had been permanently stamped in her mind) and maintain a proper, demure disposition at all times. Sure, having the King of Brooklyn on your side was a major benefit, almost every newsie in New York City feared him, so they would listen to him.

"You know, Chase." Said Story. "You could leave if you really want to. What is Spot gonna do? Send somebody out to catch you and bring you back?

Chase thought for a moment. "I guess you're right, but…" She trailed off. The actual act of leaving wasn't the problem. But Chase wanted Spot to look at her the same way he did with the other newsgirls. She wanted to know that Spot believed she could take care of herself.

"Yous look like damsels in distress." said a friendly voice above them. Chase, Story, and Spark looked up to see three of Spot's newsies standing over them. These boys were some of the older newsies, 17 or 18 years old, adorable, and very muscular. They were like the girls' older brothers, even so, Chase had an idea.

"You're right," Chase said, "I really could use some dancing." She looked at Story and Spark, her eyes twinkling. Spark took out her harmonica and began to play.

Mush stood at the Brooklyn bridge, trying to summon all the courage he had. This was very unlike him. Although he was sensitive, he wasn't afraid of much. He'd gotten his fair share of black eyes and he walked some of New York's shadiest, most dangerous streets. But Brooklyn made him nervous. It wasn't just because of Spot Conlon, who, according to legend, had killed the leader of one of Brooklyn's toughest gangs and became the King of King's County when he was only 12. Mush had heard other stories, and he'd seen the Brooklyn newsies. They meant business.

Jack needed him though. It was urgent.

Mush put his shoulders back and began to cross the bridge.

It didn't take Mush long to find the Brooklyn newsies. He saw them on their pier from the bridge. They weren't hard to miss, there were so many of them. As soon as Mush stepped foot on the pier, several guys stared him down. Mush didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him nervous, he just kept walking.

Mush stood on the pier and watched the Brooklyn newsies for a minute. Since the strike started, the Manhattan newsies spent their time playing in the streets, soaking scabs, and yelling "STRIKE!" into the crowds. Apparently, in Brooklyn, they danced. Maybe the Brooklyn newsies weren't as dangerous as Mush thought.

"Oh, no." said Spark when she saw Mush approach the pier. She threw her harmonica at a nearby newsie, who picked it up and began to play where Spark left off.

Spot raised an eyebrow when he saw Spark duck behind the crates. He shrugged and turned his attention back to Chase dancing with some of his newsies.

There were several couples dancing very close to the edge of the pier. A few newsies sat on some crates, including a girl playing the harmonica so well, she could give Racetrack a run for his money. A blonde girl and her partner were dancing so fast, they were just a blur. The other couples tried to keep up but it was clear this girl had a lot of practice. Every few bars, the girl's partner would spin her out and hand her off to another newsie. She never missed a beat.

Mush saw Spot Conlon on a throne of crates. He watched all the action on the pier with a smug expression on his face, like it was his kingdom. His eyes landed on the dancers and his expression softened a bit, a very small smile on his lips.

The song ended, the dancers paused, and Mush got to see who the blonde girl was.

"Roselia?"It was like time stopped.

The girl looked up. "Nicholas!"

Roselia ran over to Mush and hugged him, laughing so hard she started to cry.

"I never thought I'd see you again." he whispered, holding her tightly, he cried too. He couldn't believe it. He found his sister. And she was a newsie.

Thank you, Mush thought, remembering his prayer from a few nights before.

"I missed you so much," Roselia said, "They wouldn't tell me where they took you."

Mush saw Spot jump down from the crates. His arms were crossed and he was holding his cane. Mush took a step away from Roselia.

"Yous two know each other?" Spot asked, glaring at Mush.

"Spot," Roselia said, wiping tears from her eyes. Spot's expression softened again. "This is my lost brother, Nick. I thought he was gone."

Spot, looked at both of them. Mush saw sympathy in Spot's eyes although he was still glaring. He turned his icy stare back to Mush.

"Oh-" Mush took the paper Jack gave to him out of his pocket, "I have a message from Jack Kelly about the rally." Spot read the note and nodded. He tore up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. Giving Mush and Roselia one more look, he went over to talk to some of the guys.

"I thought you were at a boarding school." Mush said, that's what Mr. Pulitzer had told him, at least.

"I was," she said, sitting down on the pier. Mush joined her and she began her tale.

A/N: I know there's a weird break in the middle of this, switching from Mush's to Spot's point of views. I tend to write things in a very visual movie/play style where there are cuts to random characters in the middle of action. I'm sorry if this is confusing, I just really don't know where to fit these kinds of parts in.