Snitch stormed out of the Lodging House, his face cross as fat raindrops began to fall on his cheeks and forehead.

Dumb bastards, he thought sourly, I ain't a baby. I's sixteen years old, and I ain't a baby.

"But you suck your thumb!" Mush had countered earlier that morning. "And you still sleep with that damned blanket!"

"So?" Snitch had replied stupidly. That had been when the others honed in, teasing and taunting him about his bad habits.

Snitch continued walking until he reached the alleyway by Tibby's, where he stopped and glanced around before ducking into one of many cardboard boxes that lined the walls. Sulkily, he placed his thumb in his mouth and sucked on it, eyes half-lidded, hugging his knees to his chest and wrapping them in his blue blanket. The bastards. They just didn't understand. They would never understand.

He rocked for a while then fell onto his side, still sucking his thumb softly. It tasted of newsprint and coffee from the cup he'd spilled that morning. His face pinched in sullen anger as he remembered being teased for that too: "Can't even keep your cup upright!" Jack had said, laughing.

"Want us to get you a bottle, baby?" Swifty had cooed before chucking Snitch's chin in a demeaning manner. Snitch hugged himself tighter, now chewing slightly on his wet-wrinkled thumb.

The rain started to fall harder on top of the cardboard box, making it bend inwards, but Snitch ignored this. He was more intent on pouting. I ain't a baby, he insisted in his head, I ain't.

Snitch sighed as a black skirt swished by his box, scuffed boots stopping in front of the opening. A few seconds after they stopped, a green-eyed, chubby face appeared there. "Hey there, Snitch. What's wrong?"

Snitch scowled at the girl. "Ain't none of your business. Go away."

The girl blinked at him. "Oh, stop whining, babe, I…"

"I ain't a baby!" Snitch shouted before curling back into himself. The girl smiled.

"Oh you aren't, are you? Why are you sucking your thumb then?"

"'Cause Mama never made me stop." Snitch responded, not bothering to remove the thumb from his mouth.

"And what's that blue rag you got there?"

"My blanket. My Mama gave it to me."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well, why are you hugging yourself?"

"'Cause my Mama ain't here to do it for me."

"Oh, I get it then. You're not a baby." She looked up at the sky, then back at Snitch. "Got enough room in there for me? It's getting kind of wet out here."

Snitch nodded and sat up, pushing himself against the side of the box so the girl could join him.

"Thanks," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "But, as I was saying, you're not a baby."

"I'm not?" Snitch asked, his thumb dropping from his mouth.

"No. You're a Mama's Boy."

Snitch started to pout again. "A Mama's Boy? Lute!" He whined. "Why am I a Mama's Boy?"

The brunette smirked at him. "Well, in every answer you gave me, you mentioned your mother. Thus, you're a Mama's Boy."

"That's not fair." Snitch whimpered, sucking his thumb again. "What are you doing out here in the rain anyway? Shouldn't you be at home sewing doilies with your mother?"

Lute scowled at him. "I'm looking for my puppy. He ran away."

"Wonder why."

"You're being awfully rude."

"Well, so are you!"

She quieted, her lips shut together so tight they were almost the same pale color of her skin. Snitch pouted back at her, and there was silence in the box for a moment, save the thrumming of the rain overhead. Then Snitch glanced at her, sideways. "I didn't know you had a dog."

"He's just a puppy." A flame of distress lit in her eyes. "His name is Danny."

Snitch cocked his head at her. "That's my name, y'know."

"Is it now?" Lute blinked at him, and a grin crossed her face. "Then you can be my puppy."

"You're drunk." Snitch accused, slipping his thumb out of his mouth, but clutching the blanket to his chest.

She giggled, but shook her head. "Not now. Maybe later, but not now."

"Why don't you go find your puppy instead of adopting a new one?"

"It's raining. I was getting wet." Concern flashed over her chubby face, making her cheeks flush. "I hope Danny's okay."

Snitch pouted for a moment, then nuzzled her shoulder with his cheek. "When the rain stops, I'll help you look, okay?"

She nodded fretfully, then smiled. "Nothing like another person's troubles to take your mind off your own, hm?"

Snitch blinked at her, then grinned sheepishly. "Guess so. But I'm still mad."

"Who called you a baby?"

"Everyone!"

She laughed, sending a quick stab of discomfort into his chest and flushing his face. "Then maybe there's something you need to learn from that."

"You saying I'm a baby too?"

"No, of course… well…" She bit her lip and stared straight ahead into the gray Manhattan street. "Maybe. Kinda." When Snitch scowled at her and turned away, stabbing his thumb into his mouth, she sighed. "Oh, Snitch, come on! Do you know any other sixteen year-olds that suck their thumbs? The blanket I'll understand, but thumbsucking? I stopped sucking my thumb when I was five!"

Snitch ignored her, insulted. When she started to stroke his hair, he pulled away from her with a sulky grunt. The box shook with his movements, and she cried out, making him laugh.

"Got what you deserved, missy."

"What?"

"I oughta shove you back out into that storm right now."

"You wouldn't though."

"No." He answered, sounding defeated. "I wouldn't."

"Because you're better than those other idiots you live with."

He glanced at her, thick eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all, you're a gentleman. Those boys you live with wouldn't think twice about leaving a girl to catch her death in the rain. Second of all, you're considerate."

"I don't know that word."

"Basically, you're kind. You agreed to help me find Danny."

Snitch shrugged bashfully.

"Third, you're just too sweet. Who could resist a curly-haired boy with innocent eyes and a dirty face?"

"You make me sound like I'm three years old."

"Well, sometimes, you sure act like that's your age."

He pouted at her, but she ignored it. "Finally, you're a Mama's Boy. And I know this is going to sound harsh, but it's true; you're a Mama's Boy without a mama to cling to. And that's the best situation I can think of."

"How so?" Snitch asked, his voice light.

"The problem with most Mama's Boys is that their mother takes that position, leaving no room for a girlfriend or wife to have her say. You wouldn't have that problem."

"I guess not." He replied, slumping forward over his knees, his fingers softly caressing the tattered blue rag in his hands. Lute smiled sympathetically, and squeezed his shoulder for encouragement.

"Hey, the rain's stopped." She said quietly, as if simply observing a fact. "I better get out there and find Danny." She crawled out of the box and brushed dust off her skirt as Snitch followed her. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I said I's gonna help you find your puppy. And I's gonna." Snitch said, rolling his blanket into a ball and placing it delicately into the yellow pouch that swung at his hip.

"Well… thanks, I guess." Lute said, sounding surprised.

"Naw." Snitch answered as they started to walk down the wet but sunny sidewalk. "Thank you."

Lute blinked at him, then blushed, smiling. And nothing more was said on the subject for the remainder of the afternoon.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

Gaaaahhh… I haven't written anything in, like, a week! That's why this is crappy! I'm so suffering from creative build-up here!

Of course, I need plot bunnies. I'm also suffering from a mini-writer's block. So if anyone has any plot bunnies they're willing to share, I'm willing to take! Or inspirational things… whatever. I'm kinda desperate.

Off I go to the library. Maybe there's some inspiration there.