Disclaimer: Don't own the newsies. Anyone you don't recognize as canon is mine, so don't use them, plzkthx.

NOTE: I owe a massive heap of thanks to TWO people:

Colleen (Oxymoronic Alliteration) : Who helped me HUGELY with the planning and the layout and everything. I owe her my life.

Cheri (Glum N Dumb Skittery) : For various things, but mostly for helping me with my terrible cutandpaste Japanese non-skills.

Domo arigatou gozaimasu to you both. Suki da yo!

And now, please, read and review:

Tell Me Lies

Skittery wasn't always a patient boy, but some things, he knew, were worth waiting for.

So he sat on the curb in the hazy drizzle, tossing pebbles in the street as he waited for that familiar voice that came every afternoon, after selling and before eating. He smiled to himself and tossed another pebble, watching the ripples it caused in a nearby puddle. Soon He'd be here soon.

"Skitts! Heya!"

And Skittery's smile widened; he stood up, accepting the brief hug and ruffling his friend's hair. "Hey, Skitcha. What kept you?"

"It was rough selling today," Snitch said, adjusting his cap and looking up at the cloudy sky. "Though it don't look like you had any problems."

"Maybe I's just a better seller."

"Yeah? Well, I still get more money."

"You little pickpocket."

Snitch only smiled, and shrugged noncommittally.

The pair started off down the street, Snitch skipping from puddle to puddle, trying to soak his friend, and Skittery merely sidestepping each attempt with a serene smile. They were walking slowly, in a different direction than usual. Snitch obliviously led the way, too busy enjoying the wet to notice anything peculiar until he turned around and noticed Skittery standing outside a house a ways back.

"Skitts?" Snitch jogged to his friend's side, placing a hand between his shoulderblades. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Hm?" Skittery turned his head to Snitch, then turned back again. "Oh, uh... nothing. Just... it's a pretty place, ain't it?"

Snitch furrowed his eyebrows and looked a bit closer, but he couldn't find anything too very outstanding about it. "I suppose," he muttered, just to be agreeable. 'But it's only a house, Skitts."

Skittery raised his eyebrows. "Maybe to you it's just a house. But to the people who live there, it's a home."

"What's the difference? A rock is a rock is a rock, and you can't do nothing but smash it to make pebbles, my mama said."

"But see, that's the thing. A house is a roof over your head, but a home... a home has love."

Snitch's fingers clenched in the fabric of Skittery's vest, and he pressed his chest against Skittery's arm. "You already got a home then."

Skittery glanced at Snitch, then smiled. "Yeah, Skitcha. I guess I do."

They smiled at each other for a moment before Snitch shook the wet from his hair, and Skittery wrapped his arm around Snitch's waist. The misty rain seemed to consume them as they walked down the street, soon disappearing from sight, to the slight disappointment of a young girl who watched them from the upstairs window.

She waited until they had vanished completely before turning to look at her mother, who was desperately sorting through various dresses, trying to pick the perfect one.

"Evelyn, don't you own anything pretty?"

Evelyn raised her eyebrows; her mother always said such things. She would buy expensive custom dresses, just for her little girl, then deem them unfit and ugly the next time Evelyn needed something pretty to wear. In this case, since they were pressed for time and Evelyn was still in her underclothes, they would settle for something, but only because there really was no other option at this point in the game.

Evelyn was meeting with Claude Kells, the esteemed mayor's oldest son. He had chosen to court Evelyn for her beauty, so of course they had to exploit that as well as they could.

And Evelyn supposed she was beautiful, as she studied her reflection in the fogged windowglass. Gently curled brown hair, big blue eyes, sharp chin, high cheekbones. Her neck was long and elegant, her shoulders softly curved. Like most other well-off girls, she wore a corset under her dresses, but she wasn't sure if she needed one; her waist was slim and her chest high. And all of this was taken from her dear father, whose portrait still sat on the downstairs like a mirror (had Evelyn been born male). Her mother had once been pretty (she must have been, Evelyn decided, if that was how one found a husband), but certainly no more; her hair had faded from flaxen to dirty white, and her skin had started to bunch and fall. The veins in her hands were always hidden behind white gloves, and Evelyn could only pray she didn't age as poorly as her mother; what disgrace! If Poppa hadn't died so early, would he have stayed with Momma? Or were there other things that kept a man tied to his wife? Evelyn couldn't help but wonder.

A knock on the door made both women jump. "Mrs. Wickham?" The servingman called through the wood. "Mr. Kells and his son have arrived."

"Oh, Lord, save us!" Evelyn's mother whispered, before demanding, "Well, Toby, what are you doing standing around? Have Jordan and Bridget show them in, and send Sophie up here to help Evelyn get dressed."

"Yes ma'am."

Mrs. Wickham threw a blue dress, yellow flowers hand-sewn into the full, lacy skirt, across the bed. "Evelyn, wear that one. Sofie will help with your corset. Come down as soon as you're dressed."

"Yes Momma."

Mrs. Wickham swished from the room, and Evelyn got up from her seat by the window. Even alone, with no one to impress, she was graceful; it was just how she had been raised. To move slowly, as if dancing; to elegantly bend her fingers as she slipped her gloves over her hands; not to cry out as the maid tightened her corset, instead prettily biting a pouting lip, making it redder, more noticeable.

Sofie finished with Evelyn's corset, brushed her hair to a soft sheen, got her into her dress, and applied some rouge to her cheeks to bring a lovely rosy hue. She then smiled and opened the bedroom door. "Buona Fortuna, Miss Evelyn."

Evelyn nodded politely, unsure of what her maid had said, but what did it matter? Her mother always said that Sofie was only Italian and Toby only Japanese (or was it Chinese? She couldn't remember) and Mary Jo the cook was only Negro. Evelyn couldn't bring herself to worry too much about what they said in their own languages. She didn't understand and probably wasn't meant to. That's why they spoke other languages. Wasn't it?

She descended the staircase, and heard her older brother, Jordan, telling his tall tales in the tea room, his wife Bridget giggling and encouraging him as she was prone (or trained, like Evelyn had been?) to do.

"Miss Evelyn?"

She turned at the bottoms of the stairs and smiled; Toby, the butler, stood by the kitchen door, black hair elegantly slicked back and chin held high, but still unable to hide a smile from her.

"You look lovely."

Her smiled widened; his accent (which she could at least understand) and friendly slanted eyes comforted her. "Thank you."

"He'll love you."

"One can certainly hope so."

Toby bowed slowly, in that way that made her feel like a princess, and retreated into the kitchen. She was glad he had caught her; even if he was just a Japanese servant in her home, it always comforted her to speak with him. Like he was a father who wasn't dead, or another brother who was always home.

"Evelyn? Dear, is that you?"

Evelyn shook her head, pasted on a smile, and entered the tea room.

"Mayor Kells, my daughter, Evelyn." Mrs. Wickham stood and went to her daughter's side, placing one hand in the small of her back as a silent reminder: shoulders back, spine straight, chin up.

The bald man with the bushy beard was all-too-familiar to Evelyn; she had seen his picture in the paper hundreds of times. She curtsied as he stood to welcome her. "It's a pleasure, Mayor Kells, I'm sure."

He smiled, and kissed her offered hand. "Such a lovely girl, Mrs. Wickham. Like her mother." Even Evelyn knew he was lying, but he was nonetheless kind to do so. "May I introduce my son, Claude?"

And there he was. Evelyn smiled pleasantly and curtsied again, pleased by his good looks. If being beautiful qualified her to be a bride, then Claude Kells was also well-qualified to be a groom. Shiny brown hair, strong jaw, and oh delight! Dimples appeared in both cheeks when he smiled brilliantly at her, mouth full of white teeth. Such a handsome beast she'd never seen, but then again, she never really got out very often anyway.

"Miss Evelyn." He kissed her hand. "You are a vision. Astonishing. I'm in awe."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Kells. You're too kind." Evelyn bowed her head, not meeting his eyes; demure, shy, but alluring. Just like her mother had taught her.

"There's a space on the couch next to me," he said, gently squeezing her hand. "Will you grace me with your company?"

Evelyn was obligated to accept.

There was something she found slightly uncomfortable about sitting so close to a man that wasn't her relative. Evelyn supposed this was normal; the only other men she had ever really known were family. Well, and Toby too.

But was it normal that, despite his pretty face, she found it hard to be interested in what he had to say? She guessed so; she wasn't supposed to understand politics or the demands of the lower class, or any of those things. At least, they had never been brought up in her lessons.

She sat up straight anyway, smiling and nodding, even laughing when given the cue to do so. She wasn't entirely sure what was funny, but she could tell her mother didn't either, or Bridget, so she must be on the right track after all.

"Evelyn, dear?"

She blinked once, surprised at being spoken to directly; the men were mostly speaking to each other, leaving the women to listen, or pretend to. "Yes Momma?"

"Will you go in the kitchen and check on the cook? Sofie should have brought in some food for our guests by now."

Evelyn was confused; it would be easy to simple call Sofie out and see what the problem was. But she smiled and stood up anyway, wanting to appear obedient, bowing her head as she floating from the room and trying not to look as confused as she was.

She slipped through the kitchen door, smoothing down her skirt. "Mary Jo?"

"Yes, Miss Evelyn?" Mary Jo stood by the stove, stirring a large pot of something that smelled heavenly. While Evelyn didn't spend a lot of time in the kitchen or by the servants' table, it didn't mean she appreciated Mary Jo's Southern-born cooking skills any less.

"My momma sent me in here to check on the food for our guests?"

Mary Jo laughed, a deep resonating sound that filled Evelyn with a quiet comfort. "Sugar, I swear, if you wasn't so pretty to look at, you'd be completely useless."

"What do you mean?"

"I sent out that food ten minutes ago. Your momma and them was just trying to get you outta the way."

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. "Really? But why?"

"Who knows? Certainly not me." She turned a put a hand on her hip, pressing kinky curls back under her cap. "Probably to talk about dowry and plans and whether or not they's willing to do anything after all. But it ain't my place to know."

Evelyn leaned against the doorjamb and sighed. She supposed her presence wasn't really necessary for such things. Her mother would receive the dowry, and her brother would help with other arrangements. Evelyn just had to do as she was told. So she decided to be kind and give them a few more moments to discuss. "What are you making, Mary Jo?"

"Supper."

The younger girl smiled. "No, what is it? It smells wonderful."

"Thank you, darling. But I ain't gonna ruin the surprise."

"Oh, Mary Jo, please?"

"Well..." Mary Jo pretended to think. "All right, but only 'cause you's so sweet all the time."

Evelyn smiled. "Thank you, Mary Jo."

"You're welcome, child. It's an old recipe from my-"

"Naze ikenai yo!"

The outburst from the other room startled Evelyn, made her jump, placing one hand over her chest. "What in the world was that?"

Mary Jo frowned, annoyed at the praise of her cooking being brought to such a sudden stop. "Toby's sister's in again, giving him hell. 'Scuze me, Miss Evelyn."

"Don't worry. Toby has a sister?"

"Lord, yes, and don't that girl have a mouth? Always in here wanting some thing or another, I can never tell." Mary Jo made a noise with her tongue. "If I's Toby, I'd pop her in the mouth, that'd teach her to keep coming by here and messing with me."

Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"Chiyo-chan, uso tsukanaide-"

"Machigattemasu!"

"Shizukani!"

Mary Jo shook her head and made the noise again. "So noisy. That girl needs a good smack on the face, I tell you."

Evelyn brushed hair out of her face and slowly approached the door to the servants' room.

"I wouldn't go in there now if I's you," Mary Jo called. "Ain't gonna be pretty, and you got a wedding coming up."

"We don't know that yet," Evelyn responded, reaching for the doorknob.

"You's pretty, he's pretty, you's both rich. Honey, you's marrying him. If you survive that girl, that is."

Evelyn smiled to herself, shaking her head slightly as she opened the door.

The servants' room wasn't so much a room as it was an extra space with a table to eat at and a back door, to leave through when the day was done. The walls were grey and fading, and the floor dirty; they spent so much time cleaning the rest of the house, they hardly seemed to care about their own portion of it. Evelyn lifted her skirt slightly, so as not to get the hem dirty.

Toby sat at the table with his tie undone, strands of hair hanging in his face. "Kaimawanai," He muttered, looking irritated. "Onozomide areba."

A girl, leaning against the back door, smirked slightly. "Arigatou, aniki. Hontou ni arigatou."

Toby waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal and looked up. He blinked once when he saw Evelyn, then stood up instantly, blushing softly. "Miss Evelyn! I... didn't see you!"

Evelyn smiled. "It's all right, Toby. I'm sorry I sneaked up on you; I certainly didn't mean to." Toby started to brush his hair out of his eyes and redo his tie. "It's just... Mary Jo mentioned your sister was here, and I wanted to meet her." She clapped her hands together, and didn't notice when Toby's smile fell. "I didn't know you had a sister!"

"... Actually, Miss Evelyn, I have two sisters. And a brother."

"And I never knew! Toby, why didn't you tell me?"

Toby opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the girl at the door. "She calls you 'Toby?' Aniki, are you a pet in this house?"

"Shabaranaide, Michiyo," Toby snapped; Evelyn raised her eyebrows. She'd never heard Toby speak this way before. His sister pouted.

"I didn't have to give up my name-"

"What do those boys call you? 'Itchy?'" The girl's scowl deepened. "And you're not supporting four people anyway."

Evelyn hid her mouth behind her hand, again trying not to smile; the pair had been fighting, and she had just barged in without even an introduction. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. I suppose, some other time-"

"No, no, Miss Evelyn." Toby forced a smile and gestured for his sister to step forward, something she did quite reluctantly. "Miss Evelyn, this is my youngest sister, Michiyo."

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. Michiyo? That was certainly an odd name, though pretty in it's own way. Kind of like the girl, she supposed: Michiyo was smaller than Evelyn, both by height and build. Her hair was long, black, kept in a braid tied with a piece of string, and her slanted eyes were dark and her face hadn't been so softly shaped, Evelyn might have mistaken her for a boy; she was wearing pants, after all, and a yellow boy's shirt. Evelyn couldn't remember having ever seen a girl wear boy's clothes before. How peculiar.

Evelyn bit the inside of her lip and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure, Miss Michiyo. Did I say it right? Mi-chi-yo?"

The smaller girl shrugged. "Close enough. And it's better than Itchy."

"Why do they call you that?"

"Because they're fools." Michiyo wrinkled her nose. "And my name. 'Mmm-itchy-o.' Or so they say." She made a noise of annoyance and blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. "Stupid boys."

Evelyn smiled pleasantly. "I think it's a pretty name, Miss Michiyo. Certainly something new."

Michiyo blinked, seemingly surprised. "Well... thank you... Miss Evelyn."

"You're welcome."

"If you like my name, why did you change my brother's?"

Toby grabbed his sister's shoulder and shook her. "Chiyo! Shabaranaide!"

"Demo, aniki-"

"What do you mean?"

Both Michiyo and Toby turned to look at Evelyn, who seemed very confused. "His name isn't Toby? That's what Momma said it was." She glanced at her servant of the past ten years. "Your name isn't Toby? What is it, then?"

Toby glared at his sister and shook her again before sighing heavily. "Tatsuya. My name is Tatsuya."

Evelyn pursed her lips. Tats-ya? Yet another odd name. Culture, she supposed. "Tats-ya?"

"Yes, Miss Evelyn. Tatsuya. But please, don't go to any trouble. Toby is fine."

Michiyo rolled her eyes and pulled away from her brother. "I have to get back to work." A white cap appeared from the back of her pants, and she slung it on her head. "Nice meeting you, Miss Evelyn."

"Likewise."

"Itsu goro, aniki?" she asked her brother.

"Kami-sama! Konshu. Chiyo-chan wa fukanou."

"Atashi wa jikangai."

"Sekaseranai!"

Michiyo grinned, and for a moment, Evelyn found her not just pretty, but absolutely stunning; there was a girl ripe for marrying.

The smaller girl waved and slipped out the door. Her brother sighed heavily and shook his head. "I apologize, Miss Evelyn. My sister... she is very stubborn. And," he chuckled slightly, "very poor. And several other things. I... I am very sorry, Miss Evelyn."

Evelyn glanced at the servants' door, then back at Toby. And she smiled. "Don't apologize, Toby. It was quite entertaining."

He smiled back. "Yes. Michiyo can be that too." Suddenly he gasped. "Miss Evelyn! Your guests!"

Evelyn froze; in all the excitement, she'd completely forgotten about the mayor and his son. "Oh my goodness! Oh, Toby, excuse me, thank you!"

"Good luck!" He called as she hitched up her skirts and downright ran from the room, through the kitchen and out into the main hallway, boots clicking on the old wooden floor. She slowed as she reached the tea room, dropped and smoothed her skirts, and entered the room with her head lowered.

"Evelyn!" Her brother, Jordan, cried, standing up. "We were beginning to think Mary Jo had slipped you in her stew for our supper!"

Evelyn smiled sheepishly and wished her brother would stop treating her like a child; no wonder Michiyo was so angry with Toby; Evelyn briefly thought of doing as the little Asian girl had done, and couldn't keep her smile from growing.

"I apologize," she said. "I got caught up in a conversation with the cook and couldn't bring myself to leave."

"Kind to the servants," the mayor commented quietly to his son.

Claude smiled. "How sweet."

Evelyn's blush deepened.

"So we've come to an agreement?" Jordan asked the mayor.

"Yes, I believe so." Mayor Kells stood up and smiled at Evelyn. "Welcome to the family, my dear!"

Her heart fluttered to a stop. "... Pardon?"

Claude stood as well, and came to take her hands. "Your family and mine have discussed it and come to a decision: you and I will court for the next few months and marry in January." He kissed her hands, and Evelyn felt her face heat up.

"Mr. Kells, I'm flattered."

"Please, call me Claude." And his smile was lovely.

The Kellses departed not too much later, needing to make an appearance at a theater downtown. They agreed to come to Evelyn's eighteenth birthday celebration later that week, and Claude chucked her chin, told her she was beautiful and that he couldn't wait to dance with her; Evelyn could only smile.

Sofie helped her mistress undress afterwards, and to tug a nightgown on. As she pulled down the covers, lantern flashing shadows on the wall, Sofie asked, "How does it feel to be engaged, Miss Evelyn?"

Evelyn blushed and shut the curtains by her window. "Not too very different, actually."

"Really? You're not excited?"

"I suppose I am. But it's only part of my life, isn't it? To marry well, to have children, to keep house?"

The look on Sofie's face suggested great amusement at the thought of pampered Miss Evelyn keeping house. "I guess so, Miss Evelyn. Your bed is ready."

"Thank you." The young girl slipped between the covers and lay back against down-filled pillows. "Good night, Sofie."

"Pleasant dreams, Miss Evelyn." The maid blew out the lantern and shut the door behind her, leaving her pretty mistress in the dark.

Evelyn rolled onto her side, watching a sliver of moonlight through a crack in the curtains. Why wasn't she more excited? She was engaged and would be married next year, and to the mayor's son no less! That was certainly big news that her mother was definitely writing to all their relatives about right at this moment.

So why didn't it feel big?

She sighed and closed her eyes and wished she could be more like Michiyo. What a strange girl she had been, but at least she knew how she felt and why.

Evelyn smiled; yes, Michiyo was a girl in control of her emotions.

And sometimes, Evelyn wondered if she had any emotions at all.

END

.:AUTHOR'S NOTE:.

I'm really kind of excited to get this one moving, but I have a couple other things I have to finish before I can really let myself get into it. Unfortunately, I don't quite have my priorities in order yet and have already started the second chapter. Mostly because you guys aren't supposed to understand what was going on with Michiyo and Tatsuya in the kitchen (unless you speak Japanese or use a dictionary), and the next chapter will clear it up a lot faster.

Also because I'm in love with these girls. Evvie and Chiyo are going to be marvelous, I promise.

And if you haven't guessed yet, yes: this will eventually be femmeslash. There's not nearly enough of that in this fandom (I can think of three others total, that are just femmeslash) and I felt it was time for more. Don't worry; the Snittery will continue, but only in the background. Evelyn and Michiyo are the stars here.

Please read and review and tell me what you think?