A/N: Sorry babes, this one is a little shorter. Its a fun one though!
Hakunaaaa Matataaaa: I'm exited to see what you think of this one so let me know when you've read it :)
Guestanewone: That means so much to me! Ohmygosh, I'm so glad you loved the last chapter!
Succlentie: Ohmygosh, your review made my whole week! It was so amazing! I have my character interact a lot through looks and movements, because that's how I feel a lot of people interact in real life. I feel it makes the story more intimate, the characters closer. Like, I'm not going to tell my best friend I think the store clerk we're talking to is creepy, I'm going to look at her and sort of raise my eyebrows and make a face and tilt my head towards him and see what she thinks. As for Spot and Rois both holding back... Spot's a stubborn bastard. No way around that. We just love him anyway. Rois is still figuring out her place in the newsies world, I think. She cares about him and she's totally down for more, but she'd not gonna push him or prod at him about it. She's comfortable where things are and she knows she has time. About Czech :), I have some ideas... I'll shoot you a PM when they're more concrete.
Jaywing25: Your review mad me laugh a lot. It was so sweet! I LOVED THAT YOU PICKED OUT A LINE TO SHOW ME! I went back and read it and was like 'THAT ONE, JAYWING25 LIKED THAT ONE, OHMYGOD!' and got all happy. Let me know what you think of this chapter!
Emmalicious: Hahahahaaha- they're getting there, I promise!
~She wanted to stay.~
He rolled his eyes. She was a little manipulative, he thought but it wasn't as much of a turn off as he thought it'd be. She laughed a little at the small slip of emotion- the slight irritation on his features. Then said, "Brooklyn and the Manhattan boys are friends t'en," she asked, changing the subject for him and wanting to be sure of the relationship between the boroughs.
He was grateful for the new topic. He nodded, "We're on good terms. Manhattan's a bit different, but they're good kids," he told her. "Cowboy is the borough leader."
"Cowboy?" she laughed.
Spot shrugged, "Gotta hat, bandana, thing for the West. Just go with it, Doll. His name's Jack Kelly."
She laughed at the almost annoyed expression on his face as he described the other newsie and looped her hand through the crook of his arm, wondering when she began to feel this comfortable around him. He didn't push her away. She thought he might actually have smiled a bit, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he changed the subject. "You're not goin' there anyway."
"I'm amn't?" she asked, wondering if she should be offended or confused.
"I'm droppin' ya off at the theatre. Owner's a friend a the newsies," he explained. "She'll help ya get some clothes a' your own."
"What're you gonna do?" she asked.
"I'll be back to pick ya up, Dollface," he grinned at the way her face pinched at the nickname.
She rolled her eyes, "Fine, don't tell me. I'll just figure it out later."
"It's nothing important," he rolled his eyes guiding her around the bustling streets of Manhattan. "Couple a Manhattan newsies owe me a few pennies is all."
She raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "Don' soak anyone too bad."
"Tha's rich comin' from you."
"I-" she began slightly indignant but mostly amused. She was cut off by a loud voice ahead of them.
"Is dat the King of Brooklyn, Ise see?" a thick New York accent sang as the King and the Irish girl passed the corner on the way to Irving Hall.
"Kid," the Brooklyn Leader greeted with a nod.
"Nice a' you to visit," the blonde boy laughed. "And wit such pretty company." His single eye -the other being covered by a black eyepatch- roamed over Rois with a look somewhere between curiosity and pleasant surprise.
"This is Rois," Spot introduced stiffly. She almost laughed, but thought better than to undermine his surly reputation. He'd surely snap at her for teasing him in the open. He had a reputation to uphold after all.
"Kid Blink," the blonde identified himself with a playful bow.
"Pleasha'," she grinned, obliging him with a small partial curtsy.
He laughed, smiling at her before turning to Spot. "How's it goin' on the odder side a da bridge?"
Spot nodded, "Better than ever, Kid." he sounded slightly sarcastic, his voice making it clear that Kid had no business asking. Brooklyn was Brooklyn's problem. Butt out.
The blond got the message and quickly nodded concedingly. "Race was still at Sheepshead last I knew," kid informed him. "Probably spendin' whatever 'e owes you." Racetrack was one of the only newsies in existence capable of pissing off the newsie King without getting pummeled. If King's could have friends, Spot's was Racetrack. "And Jack's skirtin' Snyda'. Bastard was up and runnin' round today."
"Yeah, I saw 'im earlier. Left in that fancy car a' his few minutes ago."
"Bastard," Kid spit. "The boys and I are meetin' at Tibby's soon if youse is comin'," he said, "Can bring yer date an' all," he laughed. Then, he smiled at Rois again. And said, before either of them had the opportunity to correct him, "What's a pretty dame like yous doin' hangin' 'round with this monster?" he laughed.
She snorted a laugh. Spot may be a little scary but he was far from being a monster. "I'm a bit tougher t'an I look," she retorted.
"Whoa-ho-ho," Kid laughed, "Feisty! Where'd you find 'er Spot?"
"Thanks, Blink," Spot nodded without really answering the newsie's question and leading Rois down the street by her arm. She waved back at Blink with her free hand and laughed when he blew her an overly-dramatic kiss- Newsies could be such flirts.
"He was nice," she laughed as they walked away.
Spot rolled his eyes, and ignored the amused smile on her face. "Go 'round the back," he told her as they neared the theatre, waking by the fancy gold painted street sign outside the theatre.
"This place is huge," she commented as he steered her around the entrance to the alley that lead to the back door.
"Wait 'till ya see inside," he grinned.
She stopped before a particularly deep looking puddle in the sinking cobblestone and yelped as he lifted her up by the waist over the puddle. "Spot!" she shouted, clutching at his shirt.
"What?" He asked smugly, setting her down in front of the door as he knocked a few times, shouting, "Medda! Gotta present for ya!" as he dodged her fist. He grinned wryly at the affronted look on Rois's face when he referred to her as a present.
"Spot Conlon, well I'll be!" a high-pitched but sweetly accented voice exclaimed as the door swung open. Rois's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of the elaborately dressed red-headed woman. Medda Larkin was tall and curvy with thick long red hair curled to perfection and pinned in place with large sparkly pins. She had sharp symmetrical features, large bright green eyes, and plump painted red lips. Her cheeks were rosy as she smiled widely at the newsie King. "Where have you been?" she questioned, sweeping her broad, bedazzled green skirt out of the way.
"I been around," he smirked, swinging an arm over Rois's shoulders and dragging her forward. "Brought you a doll."
Rois shot him a hot glare before giving the woman small smile.
"Well aren't you just beautiful!" she gushed, holding her hands out to grab Rois's. Spot laughed to himself at Rois. Unused to the attention, her eyes widened comically and spine stiffened as Medda fawned over her, speaking so fast even he wasn't sure what she was saying until she tapped a finger under the irish girl's chin and exclaimed, "Oh, and such eyes!"
"I was hopin' you could set Rois here up with some clothes," he smiled, knowing she'd say yes.
She swatted at him good-naturedly, "Shame on you for not bringing her earlier! Look at these rags!" She tutted at the state of Rois tattered brown skirt and ushered them inside. "Come dear, we'll find you something pretty to wear."
Rois, still stunned by the expressive kindness of the rather eccentric theatre owner, didn't say a words, lips parted slightly as she swung her eyes to Spot, looking rather unsure.
"Can't stay, Ms. Medda," he smiled, stepping up beside Rois, an arm slung over her shoulders, "Gotta go see Jackie-boy and Racetrack." He shifted his attention to Rois, brushing her growing hair over her shoulder and saying, "I'll be back to pick you up after lunch. We gotta be back in Brooklyn for the evenin' edition." Before he could think better of it, he quickly pressed his lips to her forehead and then darted out of the alley, one hand on his suspenders, the other swinging his golden tipped cane, looking back only to wink when she swung her head to follow him in surprise.
Rois was pleasantly stunned, blushing pink as Medda smirked down at her. "We have a lot to talk about you and I."