Snitch dashed down the street, scuffed boots pounding on the pavement.

"You! Hey, you, get back here!"

Snitch chanced a glance over his shoulder, and was shocked to see that the fat man was still following him, and the guy wasn't too far behind either. Snitch took to ducking and dodging, zig-zagging over the sidewalk to try and lose the guy. In his focus, he didn't see her in time enough to stop, and ended up knocking them both to the ground.

"Hey!" she shouted, insulted. "Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," Snitch panted, standing up and holding his hand out to her. "I's tryin' ta get away from dat guy…"

She glowered at him, and smacked his hand away. "I can get myself up, thank you very much." she said, pushing herself into a standing position, then proceeding to brush dust off her brown skirt and white blouse. Snitch studied her as she did so, momentarily forgetting the fat man in the interest of meeting such a strange girl. She was much smaller than he was (but that was typical; he was 6'2''), and much thicker too. Her shoulders were broad, almost masculine, and her hips were wide. She was a bit on the chubby side, but her body was softer than her face, and that was probably a good thing. Her eyes were hazel-green, sitting over rosy cheeks and premature laugh lines. Her face had acne scars and was framed by the shortest hair Snitch had ever seen on a girl; chopped off at her chin, and a dark dull brown color.

She finished cleaning herself and looked up at him.

"What are you staring at? If you're running from someone, shouldn't you be running instead of gawking at me?" she spat.

Snitch jumped. "Oh, shit!" he looked over his shoulder and realized the fat man was gaining… he'd never lose him now. "Please 'elp me, lady, youse gotta 'elp me! if dat guy catches me, I'm goin' ta da Refuge, an' I doan evah wanna go dere again!"

She blinked up at him suspiciously, then sighed. "I'm too gullible for my own good." she whispered under her breath. To Snitch, she said, "Give me your hat, then duck into that alleyway. I'll cover you."

Snitch did as he was told, although the orders confused him, and he knelt behind a stack of old boxes, his eyes just high enough to watch the scene unfold.

"G'day, sir!" the girl said as the fat man jogged past her, his face plum-colored. "Are you all right, sir?" her face was pleasant. Snitch frowned, Sure, she's nice to him.

The fat man stared at her, then noticed Snitch's hat, which she was wearing on her head. "Where'd you get that hat, goil?" the man huffed.

"This hat, sir?" She asked innocently. "I got it from my brother, sir. A birthday gift when I was young."

"But… there was a boy. He stole my wallet, and he had a hat just like that…"

"Stole your…" The girl flashed an angry glance at Snitch, and he got onto his feet, ready to start running if she told on him, but was surprised to hear her continue the charade. "Well, I am sorry, sir, but I haven't seen any boy. Are you sure you didn't just lose your wallet?"

The man frowned at her. "But he was…and then he…and that's his…" He threw his pudgy hands in the air and stalked off in a huff.

The girl smiled after him, but as soon as he was gone, her gaze fell into anger and she glared at Snitch.

"You didn't tell me you stole from him!" she hissed, tearing the hat from her head and stalking into the alleyway. Snitch grinned helplessly.

"Youse didn' ask." he answered.

She glared at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to continue, then exhaled angrily, blowing her bangs out of her face as she did so.

"Here's your hat," she said angrily, throwing it at him. It slapped against his chest before he caught it, and stared up at her, his hazel-brown eyes surprised.

"Uh… t'anks." He said, confused. She nodded stiffly. "No, really… t'anks. I woulda gone ta da Refuge if youse hadn't stuck wit' me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, then she shook her head. "No one deserves the Refuge. Not even a filthy little thief like you."

Snitch's eyes widened, then he blinked and tried to smile at her. "If ya want, I'd like ta repay youse?" He stood up and held a dirt-streaked hand out to her. "C'n I take youse ta dinnah tanight?"

She eyed him suspiciously, then sighed. "I'm too gullible for my own good. You keep in mind that if you hurt me in any way, my father will find you and hurt you bad." She paused. "I'm Lute McDonaghey."

Snitch grinned. "Snitch Riccio."

"I won't go out with you until I know you better."

"I un'nahstand. Spend da day wit' me."

She considered, then sighed. "All right." And she took his hand to shake.

Her hand was tiny, pale, thin. His was large, dirty, boxy. Complete opposites. Yet they fit together perfectly.

He didn't expect her to show up that night. He played poker with his friends as he waited, restlessly. Race and Jack would yell at him to keep his head in the game, and Snitch would apologize, play his cards, then go right back to his anxious movements.

And the funny thing was, he didn't understand why he was so anxious for her arrival. They'd spent most of the day together, and her attitude towards him was one of complete aloofness. And somehow, he wanted to see her tonight… all the time. He didn't know why. She wasn't attractive. She wasn't sweet or demure. She didn't like his stealing. And yet here he was, waiting for her like a puppy waits for his family to return from a holiday. He was disgusted with himself, and yet he couldn't help anticipating her arrival, which would probably not happen.

But he couldn't keep his face from lighting up when she entered Irving Hall, her hazel-green eyes scanning the area for hm. He waved and she nodded, walking over with her head held high. Disappointment poked at him when he saw the disapproving look in her eyes, but he pulled a chair up for her anyway.

"Guys, dis is Lute." he said simply. Itey glanced up at her, then went back to his cards. None of the others did anything. Snitch scowled, took his cards and glanced at Lute, who sat in her chair, trying to look bored, but failing. There was too much going on for her to really be bored. Snitch smiled at this, and she looked at him.

"What?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Snitch shrugged. "Nuthin'. Hey, ya want somethin' ta drink?"

Lute blinked, then smiled the first real smile he'd seen from her that day. "Can I get a little beer?"

Snitch's smile dropped from his face. Beer? His father had been an abusive alcoholic, and beer conjured up bad memories. Snitch only drank it at celebrations.

Lute watched him expectantly. "Well?"

Snitch stared at her, then sighed. "All right." He put his hand in the air, and a slim, blonde waitress appeared at the table. The card game stopped momentarily as the newsies stared at the pretty girl. Lute watched them with a face filled with jealousy and disgust. Snitch took a drink from the waitress, paid her, then handed the drink to Lute, who took it and started to drink sullenly. Snitch watched her for a moment, then turned back to the game, disappointed. Then, an idea came to him. "D'ya wanna play, Lute?" his voice tapered off slightly when he noticed her already getting another drink, but then she smirked at him.

"I don't know how to play." she admitted, drinking from her new cup.

Snitch beamed. Time to show off. He explained the game to her as he played, then shook his head at her. "Cain't b'lieve a New Yawkah doan know how ta play pokah."

She shrugged carelessly, but her eyes were resentful. "I don't like card games." She finished her drink and ordered another. Snitch noticed her face taking on a reddish tinge.

"Whaddaya do fer fun, den?" He asked her, before putting three cards on the pile and taking another three.

"I spend time with my friends. I read. I write." She blinked at his when he folded his cards.

"Readin's no good." He said. "I'd still raddah play cards."

Lute scowled at him, but he noticed that it was a softer glare than they had before. "Do you read at all?"

"Don't know how." he said, studying his new quintet of cards as she ordered another drink. "Not like it mattahs. People who read get ideas. I likes meself widdout dat whole t'inkin' t'ing."

Lute snickered softly. "What are you talking about? Ideas are good."

Snitch grinned at her. "Well, 'ow 'bout youse get da ideas fer me, an' I'll jus' go along widdem?" He blinked when he noticed she had another drink.

"That's silly." she said. "I get ideas constantly. I can't be with you all the time."

Snitch's face lit up. "Why not? Dat'd be fun!"

"Because I have school. I can't drop out." She grinned easily. "I'll skip, sure, but I won't drop out."

Snitch shrugged, and added a few pennies to the pot. "'Sall da same ta me." he smiled innocently. "C'mon, how can youse leave me alone all day tomorrah?"

She stared at him, then snorted. "The same way you were alone all day yesterday? You don't need me." She ordered another drink. "Dumb."

Snitch pouted playfully. "Aw, I need youse!"

"Don't whine, you sound like a girl. And since when do you need me? You've gone on for a while without me, haven't you?"

"I need youse like da eart' needed da sky since dey met on da second day of da woild." He grinned, pleased with himself. "Me mama used ta read da Bible ta me."

Lute stared at him, then grinned sarcastically. "Good for you. You're a smart one, aren't you?" she finished her drink and ordered another. "You lay it on real thick, too." She lifted her glass to drink, and Snitch Pouted.

"Youse doan wanna be my heaven?" he asked, hurt. He'd seen the other boys, laying on the charm and they usually worked. Why wasn't it working for him?

Lute laughed loudly, kicking at the floor. "If I want to be your anything, I want to be your living hell!"

Snitch blinked at her, and folded the game. "Dat's okay wit' me. I's headed dat way anyway."

She laughed again, and Snitch thought Oh God, she's drunk as a skunk. "Stealing and lying's not bad enough to send you to hell! Besides, if your life's a living hell, then your afterlife will be heaven."

Snitch shrugged. Strangely, that made sense. "Youse sure smart, Lute." he said, grinning. "And youse smell like beer."

"I do not!" she said, finishing another glass. Snitch grabbed her wrist to prevent her from ordering another, then he leaned close to her face and sniffed.

"You do too!" he said. "Youse had 'bout seven glasses."

Lute giggled. "Guess I didn't realize how much I was drinking." She stared into his eyes and he suddenly felt very self-conscious. "You have really pretty eyes, you know?"

Snitch blinked and sat up straight. "Really?" Then she shook his head. "Mebbe I oughta take youse home."

Lute took Snitch's hand. "I can't go home, my sister would kill me." She giggled and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "I love your hands."

"I'll take ya ta da Lodgin' 'Ouse, den."

Lute giggled. "All right. Fine with me!" She tried to stand, but lost her balance, falling back onto her chair with a giggle. "I can't get up!" she squealed. A few newsies looked up at her with light annoyance. Snitch frowned at that; they would be squealing drunk within the hour. He snorted and took Lute up in his arms.

"Hol' on." he warned, and carried her out of the building and towards the Lodging House.

She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. "It's like Coney Island!" she exclaimed. "Only better 'cause it's a nice, tall guy with good hands!"

Snitch flushed slightly. "Careful, Lute, I doan wanna drop ya."

She nuzzled into his shoulder contentedly. "Yeah, because it would hurt this time. There's no chair to catch me. And I'd drag you down with me!" she giggled. "Like to Hell!"

Snitch clutched her tighter as he headed up the Lodging House steps. "Youse c'n sleep in my bed, Lute. I'll share wit' itey tonight."

Lute's voice was slurred when she spoke. "No, you stay with me, 'cause you sleep with Itey, Itey rape you…"

Snitch struggled to open the bunkroom door. "Dat ain't funny Lute, Itey's me best friend."

Lute giggled. "Best friend has nothing to do with it!" Another giggle escaped her. "You have real cute cheeks, you know that? They're all high and chubby-cute and rosy-red!"

"Dey're rosy red cause youse keep talkin' 'bout me like youse talkin' ta your goil friends. Remind me not ta let you drink evah again."

Lute giggled shrilly. "But I don't call my girlfriends cute! That's silly!"

Snitch put her on the bed, then sat next to her. "Go ta sleep, Lute. Youse c'n sleep off da alkie."

Lute sat up. "I can't go to sleep on this bed. It's not my bed. And it's cold." she giggled. "Can I mention just how full your mouth is?"

Snitch blinked. "What d'ya mean ya can't go ta sleep in it? If it's jus' cause your cold, dere's a sheet dere."

"I don't think it's the bed." she giggled again. "I think it's you! You're a dream-boy, and if I'm dreaming, I'm sleeping, and I can't go to sleep if I'm already sleeping!

Snitch stared at her. Her cheeks were flushed with alcohol, her eyes were bright, and her smile was genuine. Earlier today she hadn't attracted him at all, but her strange personality had intrigued him. Now, she was almost pretty in this foolish, drunken attitude.

And was he crazy? Here he was, alone in a dark room with a drunk girl that was very obviously sweet on him, and that he wouldn't mind having on his arm at Irving Hall every night, something he realized with light surprise.

He grinned at her. "Youse is kinda dreamy too…"

Lute giggled once again. "Then we're dream people! C'mon!" she grabbed him around the shoulders and fell onto the bed, dragging him down with her. He cracked his skull against the edge of the bed as he fell, and Lute giggled. "Since we're dream people, that didn't hurt!"

Snitch whimpered. "Yes it did. We ain't dream people jus' 'cause we's dreamy, Lute." He sighed. "Dream people doan exist."

"They exist in dreams. And if we're dreamy, then this is a dream. So!"

Snitch flushed, and curled up slightly, resting his head on an almost empty pillow. "Pinch yerself, Lute. Dis ain't a dream. I's glad youse real."

She blinked at him. "What?"

He shifted slightly. "Nuthin'."

"No, no. What did you mean? It'll bother me so I can't sleep."

"I likes ya. Dat's all I meant."

"How much?"

"I dunno…" He thought about it. "I guess a lot."

"Why?" She looked honestly confused.

"I dunno…" he repeated. "I guess 'cause youse jus'… interesting. Diff'rent."

"How so?" He didn't reply, because he wasn't sure himself. He just knew that she was different, and that he liked her therefore. She giggled at him, and rubbed her thumb across his left eyebrow. He shuddered at the strange, yet welcome, touch. "I love your eyebrows too."

He flushed. "I's gonna leave da room 'til ya falls asleep, 'cause I's distractin' ya." He stood to leave, but Lute grabbed his arm.

"Please don't leave, I don't like being alone in strange places!" She dug her fingernails into his wrist and he yelped.

"All right! All right, okay." he sat down. "I'll stay, but only if youse promise ta stop talkin'!"

"Can't promise you that." she giggled. "Have I mentioned how much I adore your teeth? They're so cute!"

He flushed. "'S gonna look real queer if youse n' me's on me bed togedda an' nuthin's goin' on." He tightened his jaw. "An' even d'oh I likes ya, I ain't gonna do nuthin', 'cause dat'd be wrong. 'Cause youse drunk."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "You smell nice, Snitch." she said softly. "For a boy that lives with other boys I mean."

Snitch hesitated, then stroked her hair. "I wouldn't kiss ya like some guys woul' if dey 'ad a drunk goil alone widdem." He said it almost as if he was scolding himself. Then his face brightened. "Okay, how 'bout youse get dressed fer bed? Dat'll getcha tired."

Lute blinked at him, then giggled. "In my underskirts?"

Snitch flushed bright red. "What?"

But she was already unbuttoning her skirt. Within moments, she was sitting beside him in her white underskirt and bloomers. Snitch was averting his eyes from this sight he had never seen before; a girl in her underwear.

"Now it's your turn!" Lute squealed, taking to unbuttoning Snitch's shirt. He cried out and pushed away at her hands, but she persisted, and he resigned to letting her remove his vest and shirt. He took off his pants though; he refused to let her touch his legs.

"Ya sleepy now?" He asked, feeling really self-conscious in his long-johns.

Lute considered, then giggled and shook her head. "No, but I am much more comfortable now." she rested her head on his shoulder again, and he was very aware of the differences between her body and his.

"I ain't gonna kiss ya. I ain't. I ain't." He chanted it like a mantra, reassuring himself. Lute giggled at him.

"Who said you have to kiss me?" she asked, taking his hat and running her fingers through his hair. "You're just being shy…"

"But I's ain't s'posed ta…" He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head and gave her a short peck on the mouth.

Lute gasped, and flushed bright. "Did you really just do that?" she sounded shocked, and Snitch was pretty shocked himself.

"No! Yes! Ah, shit." he stood up to leave, but ended up pausing and standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. Lute tried to stand and go to him, but ended up losing her balance and falling back onto the bed. She pouted for a moment, then looked at Snitch.

"Come back," she said softly. "Don't be shy."

"I ain't bein' shy…" He shuffled his feet. "Please go ta sleep, Lute. I doan wantcha catchin' sick."

Lute giggled. "I don't know why, but I can't go to sleep! I'm sorry, but I can't!"

"Lute!" Snitch whined. "When da boys come back, den will ya go ta sleep?" It didn't seem to occur to him the perhaps the guys wouldn't let a drunk girl in her underskirts go to sleep, but his current problem was getting Lute to sleep. He'd worry about everything else when it happened. This whole situation was making him nervous, and he was trying to be chivalrous.

Lute's face fell. "Do you not like me anymore, Snitch?"

Snitch jumped. "No! Lute, I still likes ya! Really! I jus'… doan wantcha ta be mad at me when youse sobah."

Lute giggled again. "When I'm sober, I won't remember any of this! I can promise you that."

"But I'd remembah, Lute! I'd feel guilty, an' what if I tells ya an' youse gets mad at me?"

"You wouldn' tell me. You know you wouldn't." She giggled. "Dumb."

"I ain't dumb, Lute!" Snitch protested. "Whaddaya want me ta do? I's tryin' ta be a gen'leman!"

That sent Lute into peals of laughter. "But you're a newsie!"

"A gen'lemanly newsie." Snitch said, sitting down beside her. "Jeez, I's exhausted. How can youse still be goin'?"

Lute giggled. "Because I'm drunk!" she squealed, falling backwards onto the bed. Snitch sighed and lay down net to her, their faces parallel on the worthless pillow.

"I wish youse wasn'." He said softly.

She stared at him, then reached out and hugged him. "But I'm more easy-going when I'm drunk."

"Dat's da trut' but youse almos' too easy-goin'." He yawned. "An' ya giggle too much."

She pouted. "Don't talk mean."

He shut his eyes and his thumb drifted near his mouth. "I ain't talkin' mean." he said. "I's tellin' da trut'." His thumb finally found his mouth, and he settled down, his breathing even.

Lute watched him for a moment. "Then I can tell the truth too, Snitch; I do like you. A lot. More than I could ever admit when I was sober."

He didn't respond. She frowned, and realized he was already sleeping. A sigh escaped her mouth, and she kissed his forehead before drawing the sheet up over them, and settling down for the deep sleep of drunks.

Snitch woke the next morning, and almost cried out when he saw Lute's chubby face sleeping across from him. Then he remembered the previous night, and smiled to himself. He stroked her hair, then got up and pulled his knickers and shirt on before heading for the washroom.

"Hey, it's da man a da hour!" Race cried, making Snitch jump.

"Whattaya talkin' 'bout, Race?" Snitch asked, scratching his head and yawning.

Blink grabbed him and tousled his hair. "Doan t'ink we didn' notice dat youse got yerself a goil in dat bed."

Snitch gasped, and pulled free of Blink. "Dat ain't whatcha t'ink it is, guys. She's a friend. She got drunk an' couldn' go home 'cause 'er family'd be mad." He flushed. "We didn' do nuthin'."

"Yer mout' says ya didn', but yer flush says ya did! How far'd ya go, Snitchy-boy?" Mush asked as he lifted a razor to shave facial hair that was non-existent.

"Didn' get anywhere, 'cause dat's wrong! She's drunk, youse guys."

"Youse ain't no fun!" Bumlets scolded. "Youse probably a pansy."

Snitch frowned. "No, I ain't! I jus'… I jus' doan t'ink it's right ta.. ta take advantage of a goil, dat's all."

"Well, youse alone in dat sense, Snitch." Itey grinned at his best friend, clapping him on the back. Snitch made a face at him, then went about his usual washing routine. The others scrambled out, but Snitch hung back, taking his time.

"Heya, Lute." He nudged her. "Time ta get up."

She mumbled in her sleep, and rolled onto her back. Snitch paused slightly, then nudged her again. "C'mon, we's gotta getcha home."

Lute opened her eyes, winced at the sunlight, and rubbed at her head. "Jesus Christ, how much did I drink last night?"

Snitch grinned. "Seven glasses worth." He grabbed his hat off the floor, smacked the dirt off, and placed it on his head. "Get dressed, ya gotta get home."

She looked at him, confused, then she seemed to remember him. "Snitch..." she said softly. Then she blinked, and rubbed her temples again. "What… where am I?" she looked at herself and sat up straight, her face flushed. "Where are my clothes?"

Snitch grinned. "Y'can't sleep in yer clothes. So ya took 'em off!"

She glared at him. "Sure, I took them off. What did you do to me?"

Snitch's grin fell off his face. "Whaddaya mean, what did I do? I's da one what took ya heah so's yer sistah wouldn' kill ya! I didn' do nuthin'!"

"Liar!"

"I ain't lyin'!" Snitch protested. "I didn' do nuthin', 'cause I ain't dat kinda guy! I brought ya heah, and let ya sleep in me bed so's dat yer sistah wouldn' kill ya fer getting' drunk. Dat's all!"

She glared at him, and he saw her wanting to believe him, but finally she just huffed, and ordered him to get her clothes.

He scowled and gave them to her, turning his back modestly as she dressed. "What's yer problem wit' me, anyhow? Ya didn' hate me like dis las' night."

There was a pause. "What kind of things did I say last night?"

"Youse couldn' stop tellin' me what ya liked 'bout me. Everythin' from me 'ands to me eyebrows." He stopped and remembered that soft touch on his forehead, and a rosy flush came up his cheeks.

There was a longer pause between them, before Lute finished dressing and told him he could turn around again. She was looking at her feet, almost ashamed.

"Well… I… I was drunk, you know. I didn't have much control over what I said." She scowled at him. "Besides, you… you're probably just making that up."

"No I ain't, an' you know it too." He bit his lip and sighed. "Why youse so defensive now? Youse so easy-goin' las' night. 'S like… youse two dif'rent people livin' in dat one body."

Lute finally looked up at him, then she set her jaw, and walked right out of the bunkroom without a word. Snitch raised his eyebrows and followed her, shouting her name.

"Doan be mad at me! Please doan be mad!" he called, jogging after her on the dusty street. Newsies were already shouting headlines, and he momentarily thought of just letting her go, and going to get his papers instead. But he decided against it; this girl liked him, even if she denied it. And he liked her. That he was sure of. He wasn't going to let her just leave.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. She shook it violently, in an attempt to throw him off, but he hung on.

"Why's youse so stubborn?" He asked her.

She glared at him. "Because I can be."

"Doan lie ta me when I asks ya dis: does youse like me?"

She finally shook her hand free, and looked him in the eye. They stood there like that, their eyes locked together for several moments before Lute sighed, and broke the gaze.

"Yes." she said softly. "Now can I go?"

"No. Tell me why youse doan act like youse like me."

"Because I don't know how to act like I like you. Can I go?"

"How can ya not know 'ow?"

She broke. "Because I'm not that kind of girl, all right? If you want the kind of girl that will do anything you want, that will be demure and accepting, that will tell you exactly what you want to hear, then I'm not the girl you're looking for! The girl you're looking for is my sister, Lissy, and you'll be just like the other boys, only after me to get to her!" She burst into tears, and Snitch suddenly felt guilty for being so hard on her. She was a stubborn girl, but she was still just a girl. He stood by her awkwardly for a moment before hugging her comfortingly, letting her cry into his chest. When she finished, she pushed him away roughly.

"That never happened." She sniffed, wiping her eyes.

Snitch gave her a half-smile. "Whatevah you say."

She looked at him. "Why are you so interested in whether or not I like you?"

He shrugged. "'Cause I likes youse. I tol' ya dat las' night, but… I guess ya doan remembah."

Lute blinked at him. "You… you're just like the other boys, that's all. You're only telling me that because you want to get to my sister through me."

"I's nevah even met yer sistah."

"But when you do, you'll want her. Not me."

"What's yer sistah like?"

Lute sighed. "Perfect."

Snitch laughed. "What's poifect?"

She didn't look amused. "Blonde hair, blue eyes." She began, pushing a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. "Tall. Hell, she'd probably reach your nose, unlike me." She sighed again. "I don't even reach your shoulder. But Lissy… she's just beautiful. Everything beautiful in Mama and Papa went into Lissy. She's demure, quiet… I've never seen her get angry. Boys are falling all over each other to ask Papa for her hand." She looked at her feet and fell silent for a few moments, then she turned her gaze back to Snitch. "No one's asked for mine yet."

Snitch shrugged. "Ya evah t'ink dat maybe dere's a guy out dere dat ain't lookin' fer a goil dat's… demuah or quiet? Mebbe dere's a guy out dere dat feels like uncomf'table wit' a goil like dat?"

"And where would I find a guy like that?" Lute questioned, looking frustrated.

Snitch shrugged, then smiled. "Me."

Lute stared at him, then shook her head and started to leave. Snitch blinked in surprise and grabbed her wrist again.

"Whaddid I do now?" he asked, a little hurt.

"You're too much like the others." She nodded slightly.

"What oddas?"

"The ones that went to my sister through me."

Snitch dropped her wrist in surprise. "Guys used ya ta get ta yer sistah?"

She tightened her jaw. "Yeah, but I got over it. I'm fine now. I don't need boys." She tried to leave him once again, but he followed her. "What are you doing?"

"Lemme take ya home. Please?"

She studied him, then sighed. "All right. What harm could it do?"

He grinned, and she couldn't help but grin back at him as they started walking, and their walk was companionably silent except for Lute's occasional sighs of indecision and confusion.

"This is it." She said sullenly, her plump face still downcast as she gestured to a thin, white house crammed between two others of almost the exact same build. "I'll see you around, all right?"

Snitch cocked his head to the side as she started up the front steps. "Wait, Lute!" he called on a whim. She started, then turned, her eyebrows raised.

He hesitated. "Lute… Lute, I likes ya. Has I tol' ya dat yet? I wantcha ta be me goil."

Lute stared at him for a moment, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want to believe you, but I can't. It would hurt too much."

"I sweah! I wouldn' hoit ya like dose odda guys!"

She turned fully, and put her hand on her hips. "Sorry to shock you, but boys don't exactly come up to me every hour on the hour and beg me to be their girl. I'm not exactly a guy's dream girl, y'know?" She sniffed, and turned back to her front door.

"Youse my dream goil. Dat's all dat mattahs." Snitch replied to her back, and she stopped, her hand on the doorknob.

"That sounds beautiful. But is it true?" she asked without turning.

Snitch followed her up the stairs and grabbed her around her thick waist. "Lemme show ya." he said softly, spinning her around and kissing her hard on the mouth, having to lift her slightly to reach. She struggled at first, her heels off the ground, but after a moment her struggles ceased, and within another moment she had her hands on his back, drinking in his kiss with a great thirst.

He parted from her and they stared at each other. Lute felt for her doorknob, a flush rising into her cheeks, but Snitch reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Doan t'ink I's gonna hoit ya, Lute. 'Cause I ain't gonna. I ain't like dat." He promised softly. Lute only stared at him, one hand on his waist, the other on the gold-plated doorknob. "Smile fer me, Lute. Youse pretty when ya smile."

She relaxed, and a smile spread over her face. " I'm too gullible for my own good." She sighed, her eyes raised to the sky before coming back to Snitch. "You keep in mind that if you hurt me in any way, my father will find you and hurt you bad."

Snitch laughed and embraced her. "I woan hoit ya." he repeated. "I woan."

"I'm going to go let my mother know I'm okay, but I'll be right back." she said, still smiling.

Snitch nodded and released her. She went into the house, sneaking shy glances at him from behind the door. He leaned against the railing of the steps and waited for her, smiling himself. She wasn't always the prettiest thing to look at, no, but he liked her attitude. And her smile. That was all that really mattered, wasn't it? That he liked her.

The door opened, and he pushed himself off the railing when Lute appeared in the doorway.

"Uh…" She ran her fingers through her hair, then looked up at him. "Mama and Lissy would like to meet you."

Snitch blinked. "Dey would?"

Lute nodded. "Yes. Mama… Mama likes to meet my friends. And Lissy's home anyway, so… they wanted to meet you." She stood back out of the way. "Come on inside."

Snitch hesitated, then put his scuffed boots into the clean front hallway, ready to meet Lute's mother, and Lute's sister.

The chubby girl studied him, and brushed dust from his vest and shirt, then she took his hat and ran her fingers through his hair, as if combing it. She smacked the hat against a nearby table and dust billowed from the spot where the two articles had met as she handed him his hat.

"Leave that off, Mama likes a gentleman." Lute instructed as he went to put the hat on again. He opened his mouth the protest, then decided against it. "All right, I think you're as ready as you can be." she sighed, and took his hand. "Let's go."

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

Okay, like I mentioned earlier, this is based on an RP I did with RosieRed, and if you want me to continue, I will, but if you don't want me to, I won't. The story works fine like this, so I don't have to continue, but I have ideas if you want me to. So! It's up to you guys.

I don't really like how this was written, but if I get to write more, perhaps it'll get better, more emotional, more descriptive. This is from an RP, after all, up to where Lute and Snitch go to sleep. RPs are supposed to be mostly dialougue. So, yeah. ^^;;

Eh. Whatever, I guess. Don't forget to review! ^^ Bye!