Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be loverly

I forgot to do this for the last chapter, and I totally meant to… I'd like to thank the wonderful human beings who have reviewed the story so far (Wapameo Huntress, Roseybelle2, A Nonny Mouse and Paisley the Flowergirl). You are all rock stars.

Chapter 10

Flora's POV

I was running.

I didn't recognize where I was, but I could tell, by some bone deep instinct, that this wasn't a good place to be. My hair was red again, and it flew wildly around my face. I was wearing a lavender dress, much fancier than anything I owned. It billowed out like a parachute around me.

I had to keep moving at all costs, otherwise… what? What would come get me? Or who?

"Flora," an eerie voice echoed. I didn't recognize the voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once. I picked up the pace, practically flying across the cobblestones. I frowned. My feet were bare. Why were my feet bare?

"Flora," the voice echoed again. I tried to run even faster, but I was feeling a sinking sickness in the pit of my stomach. I was trying to outrun the one thing I would never really escape.

"Flora, get up, would ya? Cowboy wants ta see ya before we's going!"

I bolted upright, and thwacked my head on something painful. I let out a string of choice curse words.

I heard someone whistle. "I's don't think she learned dat at St. Jerome's!"

I glared through squinting eyes. It all came flooding back to me. I was at the Duane street lodging house, not on some mysterious street, I was more or less safe, my hair was still a dark walnut colour, and I was wearing pajamas, not a silk gown. All was right in the world. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and hopped down onto the floor. "So Jack would like to see me?"

"Taday, if possible," Skittery smirked. I gave him a death glare. So this is who Jack sends to wake me up? Why couldn't he send Crutchy or someone else sweet? "So get dressed, an' go meet 'im!"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine." I retrieved my bag from where I stashed it, nestled under the bunk. If he was going to be impatient, fine. I could easily play his game.

The night before, I had constructed a screen out of some spare sheets for me to change behind. I slipped behind it, and sat down. I was in no hurry.

About five minutes later, his voice sounded from the other side of the sheet. "Um, Flora?" He sounded nervous now. That was good. "Jack kinda wanted ta see ya right away."

"I am making myself presentable!" I sang. This was too fun. I got dressed quickly, humming all the while. Once I was done, I sat again. Let him wait.

Ten more minutes passed. "Flora?" he sounded really nervous now. "You have ta go see Jack."

"Jack is not seeing me until I look as pretty as I possibly can!" I was probably being a bit mean to this boy. I'll give it ten more minutes.

"Jesus Skittery!" Jack burst into the room. "I tell you to bring her back in five minutes…" He left his threat unfinished.

"I tried!" he protested. "But she said she needed ta make herself 'presentable'! What da hell does dat mean?"

I glided out. "It means to make myself lovely." I smiled prettily, and Skittery flushed angrily. "Hey Jack. You wanted to see me?"

"Ya, I did." He smiled down at me. "So, I figured, if yous is gonna stay here, we oughta go ovah some rules."

I frowned at him. "So, you're turning my hideout into St. Jerome's?"

He backtracked. "NO! I wasn't… I mean…"

I laughed it off. "No, you're right. I'm in your house, your rules."

"Okay," he seemed relieved by me agreeing so easily. "Ya gotta do somethin' ta make da guys think that ya not jus' gonna mooch."

"Can do."

"No datin' da newsies dat live here,"

"Specifically those who live in the lodging house?" My mind flashed to an image of David. "Sure."

"Ya can't leave da house."

"What? No!" I whirled, outraged. "You can't pen me in like I'm some kind of animal!"

"We's tryin' ta make sure dat da convent doesn't pen ya up!" He stared down at me, infuriatingly calm. "Don't yous want ta be free?"

"Yes, but I thought I was free when I got here!" I gave him the death glare.

"I'd say yous could give Conlon a run fer 'is money wit ya glare," he smirked, not taking me seriously. "But yous already did." He walked out of the bunk room, and I stomped in frustration. Suddenly, it occurred to me that Skittery was still there.

I spun on my heel to where he stood. He was laughing at me! The absolute nerve of him! I directed my glare at him. He jumped about a mile in the air, and scurried out of the room. I snorted. So that was why they called him Skittery! Anything scares him, he skitters away!

I sat down on a bunk, my momentary amusement fading away. So they would keep me trapped in here, would they? They would regret this! I would make them regret it! I just needed a really good plan. Something that would prove my ability to go outside and not get caught. But I would make it so they couldn't get mad at me, or make Kloppman babysit me. But what?

And then it hit me. I smiled wickedly. Jack wouldn't know whether to be angry or thrilled.

David's POV

"Ey, Davey!" Jack called. "Good day?"

"Yeah," I called back. "Headline was good!"

He sauntered over. "How many times do I's gotta drill it inta ya head?" He punched me in the arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I grimaced, rubbing my arm. He may have meant it jokingly, but it still hurt. "Headlines don't sell papes; newsies sell papes."

"Damn right!" he grinned. "Davey," his voice changed suddenly, becoming much slyer. "D'yous wanna go back ta da lodgin' house?"

"Why?" I was a little worried about the tone of his voice. What was he planning?

"Oh, no reason," his grin grew wider. "Jus' thought ya might wanna see ya goirl."

"Flora is not my girl!" I exclaimed.

"Maybe not now…"

"Fine then! I would like to see her." I admitted.

The first thing I noticed when we got into the lodging house was the smell. It reminded me of when I was little, and would sit in the kitchen in my apartment watching my mother baking.

Boots careened through the hall, coming to a stop in front of us. He mumbled a long stream of gibberish, then swallowed and tried again. "Guys, yous gotta try da cookies!"

Jack frowned. "Cookies?"

"Ya, Flora baked us cookies as a thank yous!" Boots grinned. "And dey's da best cookies in da history of da world!"

"That's so thoughtful!" I exclaimed. It was so kind of her to make us food.

"Ya, thoughtful," Jack snorted. What was with him? She did something nice.

We walked up the stairs and into the bunkroom. Every newsie was sitting on their bunks, yelling back and forth. And waltzing between them was Flora, carrying a tray of cookies.

"Hi David!" she sang. She looked luminously happy. "Want a cookie?"

"I would love one," I responded, trying to match her happiness. She walked over to us and pulled a cookie of the tray she balanced precariously in her arms. She held it out to me. I took it, and bit it. Immediately, I could taste cinnamon and sugar, warm and delicious.

"This is the most delicious cookie I have ever eaten," I tried to say, but my mouth was full of pastry.

She laughed. "Do you want a cookie, Jack?"

"How in da hell did yous make cookies?" Jack glared at her. I felt a surge of protectiveness rise up in my chest, but fought it down. She could take care of herself. She didn't need a hero.

"Well, first I sifted the dry ingredients together, then I…"

"I mean, how'd yous get de ingredients?"

"Oh, I just went down to the grocer…"

Jack's voice sounded like thunder. Everyone suddenly got quiet, but she wasn't backing down. Her eyes flashed like steel. "And how did yous go ta da grocah if I asked yous ta stay in here?"

"I thought that feeding your newsies would be fine with you, but obviously not!" She slammed the cookie tray down on one of the bunks. "There's another batch if anyone wants more." She stormed out of the room.

Everyone stared at the door where she'd exited.

"I should go after her," I said, and began towards the door.

As I left, I heard the beginnings of a conversation. "Y'know, dey were damn good cookies," Race said.

"Dey really were," Kid Blink added in a hushed voice as the door swung shut.

As soon as I left the room I saw her perched at the top of the stairs, her mouth twisted into an ironic smile. I sat down beside her.

"I shouldn't have done that," she admitted, not meeting my eyes.

"It was a nice thought," I tried to cheer her up.

She twisted around to look at me "But I did it to drive him crazy."

I shrugged. "No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness."

Her gray eyes lit up. "Aristotle?"

I nodded, and her smile lost its ironic slant. It was softer, more genuine. "Then you must be a little mad."

"So…" I blushed, abruptly changing the subject. "Where'd you learn to bake like that?"

"One of the sister's favourite punishments was kitchen duty. I turned it into a learning experience." She explained.

I whistled. "You must have gotten punished a lot to get that good."

"I have a bit of a problem with authority." She smiled, a little embarrassed.

"So does Jack," I grinned. It was true; Jack didn't believe there was any authority that superseded his.

She sighs heavily, her narrow shoulders bending inwards in a slump. "But he is the authority. If her wanted he could just kick me out, and I'd be stuck."

"He could never kick you out,"

"Why not?"

"I heard that you kicked Conlon's ass at poker. He's never going to let someone who can do that slip through his fingers!"

She threw her head back and laughed. I was transfixed by her laugh. It wasn't a flighty giggle, or charming and musical; her laugh was a throaty hiccupping sound, manic and hysterical. It made her seem like a human being, not the mythical girl who fell from the wagon.

"I should go apologize," she stood, using the bannister to help herself up. "After all, I don't want the only reason I'm kept around to be for Manhattan to show off."

I got up as well. "It'd be a damn good reason, though."

We walked back into the bunk room.

As soon as we entered the room, everyone fell silent, their eyes trained on Flora.

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry that I undermined your authority by leaving the house. It won't happen again."

Jack looked down at her. "Apology 'cepted," Loud whoops were heard throughout the room. "But yous have ta keep makin' cookies."

She tilted her head, confused. "Really? But you were so angry about them. What changed your mind?"

He looked a little ashamed. "I tried one, an' it was perfect."

"I have to be able to go outside to buy ingredients." She fixed him with a pleading stare. She was quite good at it; she made her eyes wide and her lip quiver to full effect.

"Alrigh', fine. As long as someone is with yous!"

"Yes!" she shrieked, bouncing over and hugging him so tightly he began to choke.

"I's kinda regrettin' dis decision."

"Don't worry; I won't give any cause for worry!" She looked up at him with delighted eyes. I had a feeling that Jack would regret it; but not for the reason he thought he would.

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