Tinker

When you are young everything is easy. You play, you laugh and you dream about becoming older. But once you do become older things become more complicated and the laughter dwindles until you forget how to laugh, especially at yourself. When you become older you find yourself looking back on your care-free days as a child and wondering what went wrong to change everything so horribly. This story is about two people that lose their childhood relationship, but the difference is they know when it went bad...on one fate filled night....

(Like that Intro? Yeah there's a reason I'm not a professional writer can ya tell? lol)
~~~~~~~~~********************~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spot smiled at Tinker before her pulled her into a hug. "I’m real glad ‘bout dis," he told her.

"Me too," she agreed. "Bein’ friends wid ya was nice…but dis is nicer."

Spot smirked. "More perks."

Tinker hit him playfully. "Dat ain’t what I meant!"

"But it’s true," Spot reminded her, learning into kiss her.

"I gotta agree wid ya der," Tinker murmured before meeting Spot’s lip with her own.

Once they had pulled away from each other Tinker began giggling.

Spot quirked and eyebrow. "Dat ain’t usually da response I get when I kiss a goil."

"No…I was jest thinkin’ ‘bout what Jack’s gunna look like when we tell him. He’s gunna be sooo shocked."

Spot smiled. "Poor Jacky-boy."

"Well, it’s not like anythins gunna change dat much," Tinker pointed out. "It’ll still be da same. Hell, it’s been da same since we were five! Nothin’ can break up da three muskahteers!"

"Yeah…but some things are gunna definitely change," he told her, circling his arms around her waist.

"So, we’ll go tell him an’ den I’m goin’ ta Brooklyn?" Tinker asked.

"Yeah," Spot agreed. "But foist…" he trailed off, kissing her again.

"Things are gunna be bettah den evah," Tinker thought.

~~~~Three Months Later~~~~

"We gotta get word out ta all da newsies a New Yawk. I need some a dose…whadja call ‘em?" Jack asked Davie, using hand movements to illustrate his thoughts.

"Ambassadors?" Davie suggested.

"Yeah, right, you guys, you gotta be am-bastards," he told the entire group of newsies that had gathered around him.

Davie and Tinker exchanged amused glances while the rest of the group burst into laughter.

"Go tell da othahs dat we’re on strike," Jack continued.

"Say, Jack, I’ll take Harlem," Blink offered.

"Yeah, I got Midtown," Racetrack claimed.

"I got da Battery, Jack," Mush volunteered.

"Hey, I’ll take da Bronx," Crutchy told him, grabbing a friend near-by and enlisting him to join in the mission.

Jack, pleased that his newsies were willing to jump into action, started assigning the others, hoping they would be just as willing. "All right. An, Bumlets, an’ Specs, an’ Skittery, you take Queens."

The assigned boys nodded and started on their way.

Jack, feeling a small rush from ordering people around, continued. "Pie Eatah, Snoddy, East Side," he ordered. "Snipeshootah, you go wid dem."

Those three boys nodded in agreement and departed.

Jack, one to quit when he was ahead, decided to ask who wanted to go to Brooklyn, realizing it would be difficult to force anyone to go.

"So, what ‘bout Brooklyn?" he asked. He sighed when he noticed all the boys re-direct their eyes to the ground and try to look inconspicuous.

"WUSSES" he thought. "Come on, Spot Conlon’s territory! What’sa mattah? You scared a Brooklyn?"

A small boy courageously stepped forward saying, "Hey! We ain’t scared a Brooklyn!" Then, losing a little of his bravery, he quietly added, "It’s Spot Conlon dat makes us a little noivous."

"Yes! A victim…I mean volunteer…" Jack thought. Out loud, he said, "Well, he don’t make me noivous. So, you an’ me Boots, we’ll go ta Brooklyn. An’ Dave can keep us company.

Tinker let out a relieved sigh that she wouldn’t be the one visiting Spot.

"Sure, but Jack, don’t ya think Tinker should come too?" Davie asked.

Tinker glared at him coldly. "Damnit Davie!" she exclaimed.

"Well, from the story you and Jack told me about what happened, I doubt Spot’ll run to help us out if you’re here."

"He’s right," Jack decided. "I know ya don’t wanna see him so soon, but you gotta tell him da truth. An’ trust me, I don’t want him ta know anymoah den you do…but it’s time ta tell him."

"No," Tinker stated. "I don’t wanna go."

Jack, still on his power trip, told her, "Tough, yoah goin’, even if Dave an’ I gotta carry ya da whole way der."

Tinker glared. "I shoulda told him da truth from da beginnin’ jest so he’d soak yoah cocky ass."

"I love you, too," Jack said sarcastically.

"Look, Tinker," Davie intervened. "We need Spot to help with this strike. We can’t do it without Brooklyn. Spot prolly won’t do it after what happened last week unless you tell him the whole truth."

Tinker thought about it for a moment. "All right, yoah right Davie. I’ll go," she decided.

Davie gave Jack a smug smile. "Ya shoulda jest said dat, Jack," he told him.

Jack glared at Tinker, who was always giving him a hard time even though they were the best of friends.

"Aw…don’t be angry Jacky-boy. Jest ‘cause Davie’s got a way wid women an’ you don’t doesn’t mean ya gotta be jealous," she told him.

"I’m beginnnin’ ta wish dat I’d nevah intraduced you two," Jack muttered.

Tinker smirked before running over and throwing her arms around Jack, "Aww…I still love you! Ya know I only give ya a hard time ‘cause I care. I wanna make shoah dat yoah head don’t get too swollen ta fit in yoah hat!"

Jack looked upset for a few moments before he rolled his eyes and hugged her back. "I don’t know how we’re still friends when yoah so damn mean ta me all da time."

"Well, we can’t all be like Les an’ follow ya ‘round," Tinker said, pushing Les’s hat down playfully.

"Hey! I do not," Les protested, pulling his hat back up. Les smirked and added, "I’se jest usin’ him foh his pape sellin’ til I know ‘nough ta go inta business foh meself."

Tinker burst out laughing. "A kid aftah me own heart," she said, putting an arm around Les.

"So, are we goin’?" Jack asked.

"Sure," Davie answered. "Just as soon as you deliver our demands to Pulitzer."

Jack looked shocked. "Me? To Pulitzer?"

Davie flashed him a fake smile, looking very smug. "Your the leader Jack."

Jack looked uncertain for a moment before regaining his cocky attitude. "Well, maybe da kid’ll soften him up," he said, grabbing Les away from Tinker and dragging him into the building.

Tinker and Davie laughed. The newsies that had been there, listening the entire time, began cheering loudly as Jack entered The World building.

"So, Davie, I’m gunna go back ta da Lodgin’ House an’ write me will," Tinker told him.

"Your will?" Davie asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah," Tinker answered. She waited until a younger newsie that had shook Davie’s hand had left. "It’s foh aftah Spot kills me."

Davie started laughing. "Okay, den. We’re probably goin’ tomorrow right?"

"Yeah, see ya latah," Tinker said, walking off as a cheesily-dressed man approached Davie.

----The Next Day----

Tinker, Jack, Davie and Boots made their way to Brooklyn early in the day. Tinker was her usual, amiable self, joking and talking the entire way, even though she was actually very scared about seeing Spot again so soon. As nervous as Tinker was, Jack was twice as nervous, trying to imagine what Spot would say when Tinker told him the truth. Boots was busily searching for pebbles the entire way, thinking he might be able to bribe his way into Spot’s good graces. Davie was just curious about this mysterious Brooklyner that had so many newsies ‘nervous’.

"I’ve never been to Brooklyn, have you?" Davie asked Boots, knowing the other two had.

"I spend a month there one night," Boots answered.

Davie thought about this for a second before laughing.

Jack hit Boots lightly and pointed to the rail of the bridge. Boots nodded and they walked over to the edge.

"You guys don’t…" Tinker started.

Jack and Boots took deep breaths and leaned over the edge of the bridge and started yelling.

"…yell off the bridge, it’s embarassin’," Tinker finished, lamely.

"Tradition," Jack told her once he had stopped.

Davie, finally asking the question he had been wondering for a long time, said, "So, is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?"

Tinker, Jack and Boots all started laughing as if he’d just said something extremely funny.

Davie, unsure if this was affirmation or negation, let it drop.

~~~~~*******~~~~~
The group finally reached the peer that was filled with Brooklyn newsies.

Davie, noticing all the tough looking boys, asked, "Are ya shoah he’s gunna be heah?"

"Yup," Tinker answered.

Suddenly a boy pulled himself onto the dock. "Goin’ somewheah, Kelly?" he asked.

Jack glared at the boy and walked around him, continuing his trajectory. Davie and Boots followed, glancing at the boy warily.

Tinker however said, "BLUE! Hey!"

The boy looked shocked to see her. "Tinkah!" he exclaimed, hugging her.

"AAAH! GET OFF!" she yelled, squirming around. "WET! WEEET!"

Blue laughed and pulled away quickly. "Ya desoive it foh not tellin’ us ya were leavin’. What happened? A couple a da bravah boys asked Conlon but he wouldn’t tell us nothin’."

"Spot an’ I had a…uhh…small misunderstandin’," Tinker told him.

"Well, if Spot gets dis mad ovah somethin’ small I would shoah hate ta be der if ya cheated on him or somethin’," Blue joked.

Tinker raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

Blue stopped laughing abruptly. "Oh no…ya didn’t did ya?" he asked, looking worried.

"No…well…no a course not," she answered.

Her whimsical assurance didn’t support the diminution of his apprehension. (do you like that sentence? Big words…)

"I bettah go talk ta him," Tinker said, knowing she couldn’t put it off much longer.

Blue gave her a half smile. "Jest keep a safe distance, all right? He definitely isn’t in one a his best moods."

"Goody for me," Tinker said, sarcastically, walking toward where Spot was.

She walked up just as Davie said, "So, ya gotta join, I mean…well, you gotta!"

Tinker noticed Spot had a highly amused and agreeable expression. "Davie does got a way wid difficult people," Tinker thought, walking to where Spot could see her.

"You’re right, Jacky-boy, brains. But I got a brain too, an’ more den jest half a one," he stopped when he noticed Tinker standing there. "What da hell are you doin’ heah?" he asked.

"Hello to you, too. Oh, thanks for askin’, I’m jest great," Tinker said.

Spot’s scowl deepened. "What da hell are ya doin’ heah?" he repeated.

"I came ta talk ta you," Tinker answered.

"Den ya might as well jest leave…now," he told her coldly.

"C’mon Spot. Can’t we jest talk ‘bout dis?" Tinker asked. "Aftah bein’ friends foh ovah twelve yeahs shouldn’t I get da benefit a da doubt?"

"No. Hell, I already gave ya me trust an’ look how dar dat got me," he told her. Then, not wanting to exhibit how hurt he truly was, he emotionlessly added, " I told ya not ta come back heah foh a long time. Now, leave or I’ll make ya."

"Spot…" Jack started.

"Cowboy, stay outta it. I was willin’ ta let it slide foh you since we’se been friends foh so long but I can only take so much."

"What da hell?! So it was all right foh Jack ta kiss me since he’s been yoah friend foh twelve years but not me even doh I’se been yoah friend jest as long an’ ya said ya love me? Or were we nevah friends an’ ya were jest lyin’ da entire time?" Tinker asked, hurt.

"You bitch!" Spot exclaimed. "I did love you an’ you went an’ kissed me best friend. If anyone was lyin’ ‘bout bein’ in love it was you! Now go da fuck away befoah I make ya!"

Tinker stared at Spot in shock for a few moments, tears welling in her eyes. She turned on her heels and ran away from the docks and Brooklyn as fast as she could.

Spot stood silently for a moment, watching her leave, before turning back to Jack and Davie. He cleared his throat. "Wheah was I? Yeah…I remembah. I was wonderin’ how do I know you punks won’t run da foist time some goon comes at ya wid a club? How do I know ya got what it takes ta win?"

Jack, who had been wavering on if he should revel the truth about Tinker to Spot, decided against it and answered, "Cause I’m tellin’ you, Spot."

Spot stared at him for a minute then told him, "Dat ain’t good enough, Jacky-boy. You gotta show me."

~~~~~~********~~~~~~

Jack, Davie and Boots returned to Manhattan a little discouraged and immediately went to find the rest of the newsies to give them the news.

"Der’s Tinkah," Boots pointed out.

Jack saw her and jogged to catch up to her. "Hey Tinker. You okay?"

Tinker looked up and Jack could see her eyes were red and swollen from crying. "I’m jest peachy," Tinker said sarcastically.

Jack immediately felt horrible for not telling Spot the truth. "C’mere," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I’m really sorry, Tinkah. Dis is all my fault."

"No it’s not," Tinker answered, slightly muffled since she was talking into his chest. "It’s mine. I shoulda told him da truth from da beginnin’ an’ not had all dose stupid thougths ‘bout him trustin’ an’ lovin’ me an’ everythin’."

"No…it’ll be all right. I’ll talk ta him. I might end up not bein’ able ta walk…but I’ll talk ta him."

Tinker pulled away. "Don’t Jack. I don't want ya ta ruin yoah friendship jest cause a one lousy night. Jest leave it alone. Maybe Spot an I’ll become friends aftah awhile but I think anythin’ else is ruined."

"Is dat really what ya want?" Jack questioned.

"Yeah, I think so," Tinker confirmed. "Well, maybe not what I want, but dat’s da way dat things are."

"All right, den. Is der anythin’ I can do foh ya?" Jack asked.

"Nah, I’m jest headin’ ta da Lodgin’ House. You should go find da othah boys. Dey’ll wanna know what happened."

"Don’t you?" Jack asked.

"I already do. He said no…I could kinda tell by how he was answerin’ Davie befoah he saw me," Tinker responded.

"Nice call," Jack commended.

"Well, when yoah friends wid a guy foh dat long an’ den spend every second wid him foh two months, two weeks an’ five days, ya start ta be able ta tell his reactions," Tinker explained.

Jack gave her a smile, trying to cheer her up. He wished he could somehow make the pain that he had instigated disappear.

Tinker gave him a half smile in return. "I’ll see ya latah."

"Wait…Tinkah…I was wonderin’…" he started.

"Da answer is yes," Tinker responded.

"Yes? I didn’t ask da question yet!"

"Ya were gunna ask if I know how yoah gunna respond like I know how Spot is an’ da answer is yes."

Jack looked completely shocked and a little frightened. "But…how did ya know…dat don’t make…" he stammered.

Tinker smirked. "I’ll see ya latah, Jacky-boy," she told him walking off.

Jack shook his head wondering how any guy, especially someone that was infamous to be a good judge of character, could let someone like Tinker go. He shrugged and walked off toward the Square where all the Manhattan newsies were sure to be.

~~~~~~******~~~~

The next days passed relatively unexciting for Tinker. She usually went off to do her own thing while the boys were off getting into fights, soaking scabs, and attempting to break into the Refuge. Although Tinker was a strong supporter of the strike she didn’t agree with the violent tactics the boys utalized to help achieve their goal. Jack agreed with her that she shouldn’t be there every day since she was hopeless at fighting.

Tinker found other activities to occupy her days, such as visiting old friends from different parts of the city that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

~~~~*****~~~~~

One day Tinker had been in the Bronx talking to her friend Squibble and walking around.

"Hey, ain’t da Weasel?" Tinker asked, pointing to a man surrounded by a group of other men.

"I dunno who dat guy in da middle is but dat guy he’s talkin’ ta is da leadah a da Crips."

"Why would he be talkin’ ta dem?" Tinker wondered out loud.

"Who cares? Let’s go back ta Manhattan. Ya told me dat you’d intraduce me ta dat Davie kid…gawd is he cute!" Squibble exclaimed, being slightly boy-crazy.

"Jest a minute. Dis seems fishy. Stay heah," Tinker ordered, stealthily walking toward the men.

Tinker ducked behind some garbage cans and tried to ignore the foul stench coming from them. She listened attentively to the suspicious conversation.

"So, you give us da money an’ we beat up da kids?" the alleged leader of the Crips inquired.

"Yep," Wisel answered. "Jest gotta discourage der strike if ya know what I mean."

"I dunno ‘bout dis. Beatin’ up innocent kids dat’re jest tryin’ ta make an honest livin’ doesn’t seem right," the leader protested.

"I’se payin’ ya good money an’ ya don’t gotta soak ‘em all…jest scare ‘em. Ya beat up der leadah, Kelly, an’ dey’ll back off."

"Yeah, but what’ve we got ‘gainst dis kid? It ain’t jest ‘bout da money ya know."

"Ya got a lot ‘gainst dis boy. He’s Timothy Sullivan’s kid. ‘Bout seventeen now…not really a kid anymoah."

"Timothy Sullivan, huh? Dat rat! Ya jest got yoahself a deal. We’ll be der tomorrow," the man said, shaking Wisel’s hand.

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Tinker muttered to herself. She curled into a small ball as the men walked past her hiding place.
As soon as they had turned the corner Tinker ran to Squibble.

"Ya gotta go ta Manhattan," Tinker told her, grabbing both of her arms. "Tell Jack or Davie dat Weasel’s got da Crips!"

"Whoah…wait…what? Wheah are you goin’?" Squibble asked.

"I’m gunna tell Spot an’ get his help," Tinker told her. "Tell Jack an’ Davie not ta back down. It’s gunna happen tomorrow. An’ I’ll have Brooklyn der."

"What if ya can’t?" Squibble asked, doubtful.

"Den I’ll get der befoah da fight an’ tell dem. Don’t worry. I’ll get dem."

Squibble nodded and ran toward Mahattan as fast as she could.

Tinker took a deep breath and sprinted in the direction of Brooklyn.

~~~~~~*****~~~~~~

"Spot?" Blue said, walking up to him.

"Yeah?" Spot responded.

"Tinker jest entered Brooklyn. I jest got word. Ya told me ya wanted ta know if she was evah heah," Blue informed him.

"Wheah’s she headed?" Spot interrogated.

"Heah, I think," Blue answered.

"Shit! All right, well thanks foh lettin’ me know," Spot told him.

"Should we let her in?" Blue inquired.

"Yeah, might as well," Spot responded.

"All right," Blue said, walking away.

"What was dat all about?" asked the girl who had been talking to Spot before Blue interrupted.

"I told da boys ta let me know if Tinkah was evah comin’ so dat I could leave," Spot informed her standing up.

"Why?" the girl questioned.

"You know da story, Jersey. An’ I jest ain’t feelin’ like seein’ her," he responded, picking up his discarded slingshot and placing it in his back pocket.

"I don’t udnahstand why ya don’t give dat bitch da soakin’ she desoives," Jersey answered twirling Spot’s cane around in her hand.

"It’s complicated, Jers. I’ll see ya latah," he told her, grabbing the cane and slipping it through his belt loops.

"Well den get some revenge! Don’t jest sit ‘round an’ do nothin’ while she’s screwin’ yoah best friend!"

Spot looked like he was going to hit her but instead clenched his teeth and stated," You don’t know what yoah talkin’ ‘bout an’ dey aren’t ‘screwin’ so jest shut da hell up."

Jersey rolled her eyes. "Look, Spot, we’re friends right?"

Spot nodded in affirmation. "What’s yoah point?"

"My point is ya can eithah let da goil chase ya outta yoah own Lodgin’ House or ya can be a man an’ get some good ole fashioned revenge. Whadja say?"

Spot thought about it for a second before sitting down again. "Whadja have in mind?" he asked.

"Well, what if she thought dat you were gettin’ some, too. At least ya wouldn’t feel like such a losah," Jersey told him.

"Losah!?" Spot asked, angrily.

"Uh…socially challenged?" Jersey suggested.

"How ‘bout yoah gunna be walkin’ challenged? Meanin’ keep on talkin’ an’ ya won’t be able ta walk," Spot threatened.

Jersey gave him a pat on the head. "Poor Spot. Still in denial."

Spot rose a fist but Jersey quickly pacified him saying," I’m sorry. Revenge, remembah? I’m helpin’ ya!"

Spot dropped his fist. "How do ya get along in Brooklyn when yoah so fuckin’ annoyin?"

"It’s a skill…so what goil are ya gunna use?" Jersey asked.

"I dunno…How is dis supposed ta work anyway? I may be charmin’ but I dunno ‘bout gettin’ a goil in bed befoah Tinkah gets heah…"

"Fine…I guess I gotta sacrafice," Jersey resigned.

"What? Yoah gunna sleep wid me?" Spot asked, shocked.

"You wish! It’ll jest look like we are. Go tell Blue," Jersey commanded.

"What exactly are we tellin’ him?" Spot questioned.

"Nevah mind. I’ll go wid ya. C’mon," Jersey said, taking Spot’s hand and pulling him across the room.

"Blue?" Jersey asked. "Spot an’ I are gunna go be busy in his room so when Tinkah gets heah make shoah ta let her know."

"Be busy?" Blue asked, raising an eyebrow at Spot.

"Yeah…dat’s right. Tell Tinkah she’ll have ta wait ‘til we’se done…don’t stop her from comin’ in doh if she tries ta," Jersey instructed.

"Uhh…all right…" Blue said, still confused. He waited for Spot to give his approval for this.

Spot shrugged. "Do what she says," he ordered.

"You got it. You guys bettah get goin’. She’s gunna be heah soon," Blue told them.

Spot nodded and started toward his room with Jersey following close behind him.

~~~~******~~~~

Squibble reached the Manhattan Lodging House perfectly happy. She had hitched a ride on the back of a wagon and ridden all the way there, not seeing the rush.

"Hey Squibble, how’s it goin’?" a familiar voice questioned.

"Blink! Hey!" she exclaimed, hugging him.

"Whatcha doin’ heah, Squib? I thought Tinkah went ta visit you taday?" he said, confused.

"She did an’ dat’s why I’m heah. I gotta talk ta Davie or Jack," Squibble informed him. "Do ya know wheah dey are?"

"What happened? Tinkah is all right, ain’t she?" Blink interrogated.

"Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. I jest got a message foh Jack or Davie an’ I gotta give it ta dem right away," Squibble told him. "Do ya know wheah dey are?"

"Yeah, dey’s ovah at Davie’s house foh dinnah. I think dat Jack is sweet on Dave’s sistah," Blink confided.

"Nice ta know…do ya know when he’ll be back?" she questioned.

"Uhh…lemme think…I think Jack said he’d be back…" Blink started.

"Right now," Jack finished, walking in the door. "Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout me foh?"

Squibble turned around, slightly frightened that Jack had popped up just as they were discussing him. "I gotta tell ya somethin’," Squibble told him.

"Who’re you?" Jack asked.

"I’se a friend a Tinkah, Squibble," she stated. "Can I talk ta ya…kinda in private?"

"Shoah, c’mon," Jack agreed pulling her away from the curious newsies.

"All right, taday when Tinkah an’ I were walkin’ ‘round we ovah heard Weasel hirin’ da Crips ta soak ya an’ she told me ta run ovah heah an’ tell ya not ta back down an’ foh youh boys ta fight ‘cause she’s gunna bring all a Brooklyn wid her tomorrow."

Jack looked completely befuddled. "Why would dey wanna soak me?"

"Well, deys supposed ta "discourage" da strike an’ da leadah a da Crips hoid dat youh Tim Sullivan’s boy an’ he said he’d soak ya happily an’ so dey’re gunna be der tomorrow."

"Shit!" Jack swore. "How’s Tinkah gunna get Brooklyn heah?"

"Well, she said dat she’d talk ta Spot I guess. She said if he said no she’d be back heah in plenty a time ta stop you’se guys from goin’."

"All right…ya didn’t tell anyone else dis infohmation did ya?" Jack asked, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"Nope, jest you," Squibble assured him.

"Good, don’t tell anyone else," he ordered. Then, looking outside and noticing how dark it was he said, "You bettah stay heah tanight. It’s dark an’ all."

"Thanks, I will," Squibble agreed, happily.

~~~~~~*******~~~~~~

Jersey sat down on Spot’s bed. "So, now what?" Spot asked.

"Can ya turn ‘round?" she asked.

"What?" Spot asked.

"Well, if Tinkah comes in she’s gotta think we’re really goin’ at it," Jersey rationalized. "Meanin’ dat I gotta at least lose me shirt an’ so I’d appreciate it if ya turned ‘round til I can get undah da blanket."

"Uh…all right…" Spot said turning around and uncharacteristically blushing. He had, had sexual encounters with many girls but had never only pretended to so he was a little awkward.

A few moments later Jersey said, "Okay."

Spot turned around to find her under the blanket with her naked shoulders showing. "Oh boy," Spot muttered. "Remembah she’s jest yoah friend…jest Jersey…nothin’ ta gawk at! I’m actin’ like a twelve yeah old boy!" he thought to himself.

"Spot yoah gunna have ta take yoah shirt off , too," Jersey commented. She had noticed the way he was looking at her and didn’t like it, especially since she knew he was still head over heels for Tinker.

"I knew dat," Spot informed her and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Spot she’s jest outside da House," a voice called in.

"All right," Spot yelled, ripping off his shirt and diving for the bed.

Jersey squealed. "What’re ya doin’!?"

"Getting’ in da bed!" Spot told her, exasperated.

"Ovah da sheet! Hello, don’t have a shirt on!" Jersey reminded him.

Spot rolled his eyes before getting under the blanket but over the sheet.

"C’mere," Jersey said, pulling Spot closer.

"Wow, dis is weird," Spot said, laying on top of her.

"Yeah, it’s about ta get weirder," Jersey said, putting her hands on Spot’s bare back.

"Now what?" Spot asked.

"We wait…shouldn’t take her too long ta barge in."

~~~~~~~During this~~~~~~~

Tinker ran all the way to the Brooklyn Lodging House, in-between catching rides on carriages. She didn’t think about anything except getting to Spot, thinking he would make everything all right as he had done so many times in the past.

Tinker pushed open the door hurriedly and stumbled up the stairs toward Spot’s room. Everyone else in the House looked startled since they, not being privy to the plan, assumed Spot and Jersey were in his room having sex.

Tinker walked up to Blue. "Is Spot heah? I really gotta talk ta him. It’s life or death…literally."

Blue looked very uncomfortable. "Uh…Tinkah…Spot’s real busy an’ I don’t think he wants to be interrupted."

"So he’s in his room?" Tinker asked, walking toward the door.

"I wouldn’t go in der," Blue said very loudly, hoping to give the two plan-makers a warning that Tinker was there.

"Blue, please don’t try ta stop me. It’s really serious," Tinker told him.

"Fine, but I warned ya," Blue resigned, really wishing she wouldn’t go in there.

Tinker smiled at him. "Thanks," she told him, knocking on the door and opening it before there was a response.

"Spot I know youh busy…" she started. Then her eyes fell upon Jersey and Spot, presumably completely naked, involved in a long kiss. "Oh my gawd!"

Tinker felt a wave of nausea come over her. "I jest had ta tell ya dat…attack…uhh…shit…" she mumbled before running into the washroom and being sick.

"I hope you guys are happy," Blue yelled before running after Tinker.

"Dat wasn’t exactly what I was expectin’," Jersey commented pushing Spot off her and grabbing her shirt of the ground.

"Yeah, no kiddin’," Spot said getting up and pulling on his own shirt.

~~~~******~~~~

Blue walked in and gathered Tinker’s hair behind her so it wouldn’t get in the way. "Took dat pretty hard, huh?" he asked her.

Tinker sat down on the ground and wiped her mouth. "Maybe jest a little," she muttered. "How long has dat been goin’ on?"

"Tanight," he answered. "I’m really sorry."

"Yeah, well me too. An’ now I gotta talk ta dat jerk," she grumbled.

"Well, den, get ta talkin’," Spot said, walking in. "What da hell are ya doin’ burstin’ inta me bedroom?"

"I had somethin’ I needed help wid but I guess I shouldn’t a come heah," Tinker told him. "You really are da meanest most horrible…thing!" she yelled, not thinking of a better insult.

"At least I wasn’t screwin’ yoah best friend in der," Spot told her.

Blue looked from Tinker to Spot and decided he was unnecessary. He closed the door as he left.

"I didn’t ‘screw’ Jack! All we did was kiss…once! An’ dat ain’t even what I’m talkin’ ‘bout," Tinker corrected.

"What are ya talkin’ bout den?"

"Da fact dat ya did all dis jest ta hurt me," Tinker answered.

Spot looked thrown for a moment. "I don’t know what yoah talkin’ ‘bout."

"Give me a break, you prolly knew da second I entered Brooklyn. Spot I lived heah foh two an’ a half months. I know how things work."

"Did ya come heah foh a reason?" Spot asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. Ya gotta come ta Manhattan by tomorrow wid all yoah boys," she told him.

"An why’s dat?" Spot inquired skeptically.

"I ovah heard Weasel hirin’ da Crips an’ dey’re gunna attack da newsies," Tinker explained.

"Are ya shoah? Dat don’t sound like da Crips ta me…beatin’ up street kids ain’t der style."

"Dat’s what da leadah guy said but den he found out dat Jack is Tim’s boy an’ said he would do it."

"Figuahs ya’d be doin’ all dis ta save Jack," Spot muttered.

"What da hell is yoah problem? If ya don’t remembah Jack’s yoah friend, too. He’s been yoah friend foh fuckin twelve yeahs an’ now ‘cause of one stupid kiss dat ya don’t even know da whole story ‘bout yoah willin’ ta jest abandon all yoah friends? You are definitely not da guy I thought you were," she told him angrily, before getting up and starting to leave.

Spot grabbed her and pulled her back. "I didn’t say I was gunna abandon him. When is dis attack gunna happen?" he asked.

"Tomorrow…dat’s all I know," Tinker said, taking her arm out of his reach.

Spot tried to digest all the information he had just received. "Wait a minute…whadja mean I don’t know da whole story ‘bout dat damn kiss? I saw it wid me own eyes!"

Tinker rolled her eyes. "Dat ain’t important anymoah. Look, will ya help us?" she asked.

"I want ta know what ya think da whole story is," Spot insisted. "Explain ta me how ya weren’t jest bein’ some whore dat was goin’ in-between two best friends."

Tinker glared coldly at him. "Ya wanna know da fuckin’ truth? Huh? Jack was drunk an’ kissed me! Dat was it! An’ you came ‘round da fuckin’ cornah blamin’ it ALL on me…fohget trustin’ someone yoah supposed ta love..no…dat’s to much foh da ‘great’ Spot Conlon!"

Spot stood there stunned. "What?" he asked slowly.

Tinker threw her arms in the air. "Nevah mind. Look, can I count on ya tomorrow or not?"

Spot clenched his teeth. "If I have ta ask ya ta tell me da story one more time der’s gunna be hell ta pay. Jest spit it out. I got a right ta know what me old goil an’ best friend are doin’."

"Fine! Fine...We were at da party an’ Jack got real drunk so I said I’d take him home ‘cause you know how he gets when he’s drunk…ya nevah know what he’s gunna do an’ I didn’t want him ta start a fight wid one a da guys. An’ so we got inta da alley an’ he kissed me an’ befoah I even knew what was happenin’ you came up an’ threw him off me an’ were blamin’ me," Tinker told him.

"Why da hell didn’t you tell me dis befoah?" Spot asked, furious.

"Why da hell didn’t you give me a chance ta tell ya dis befoah?" Tinker asked, just as furious.

"I’m gunna soak him. I’m gunna save him tamorrow jest so dat I can soak him meself," Spot muttered to himself.

Tinker grabbed his arm. "Don’t you dare Spot. I swear dat if ya evah touch him I’m gunna…" she trailed off trying to think of something she could threaten him with.

"Ya’ll what?" Spot challenged.

"I’ll…I’ll…well damn it I’ll think a somethin’ really bad ta do!" Tinker claimed.

"Well, while yoah busy thinkin’ I’ll soak him," Spot rationalized.

"An’ ya wondah why we didn’t tell ya? I figuahed dat aftah a while ya’d get ovah it an’ realize dat I would nevah do anythin’ like dat if ya really knew me an’ Jack wanted ta tell ya but I didn’t want ta ruin yoah guys’ friendship," Tinker explained.

"Why da hell do ya think it hurt so bad? I always figuahed dat ya’d nevah do anythin’ like dat an’ der ya were in an’ alley kissin’ me best friend an’ not havin’ any excuse," Spot pointed out. "I don’t read minds ya know."

"It’s not important anymoah," Tinker decided. "Da important thing is dat ya come ta Manhattan an’ help da boys an’ dat ya don’t soak Jack."

"I’ll help but I ain’t makin’ no promises ‘bout soakin’ Jack," Spot told her.

"No, promise. You know how Jack gets when he’s drunk…almost as bad as you," Tinker explained. "He apologized a bunch da day aftah when I told him what happened."

"I’ll help," Spot told her. "We’re leavin’ tomorrow really early…’bout two…ya can sleep in my room an’ I’ll sleep in da bunk room."

"I don’t need your favors…I can sleep out in da bunk room," Tinker said, huffily.

"I said dat you’ll sleep in my room an’ ya will. Goils aren’t allowed ta stay in da bunk room of a boys lodgin’ house," he explained. "Not ta mention some a me boys ain’t exactly da gentlemen type dat yoah prolly used ta in Manhattan. C’mon," he told her.

Tinker, exhausted, in any way possible, from her day gave in and followed him.

"Der’s some a yoah old stuff ovah der," Spot said, pointing to a corner of the room. "Do ya need anythin’ else?" he asked.

"No, I’m fine," Tinker assured him. "Thanks."

"No problem. Hey…Tinkah…you were right," Spot told her awkwardly.

"’Bout what?"

"Wid Jersey…I wanted ta hurt you how you hurt me," he said, even more awkwardly, hating to deal with his emotions.

"Uhh…nice ta know," Tinker said, looking at him oddly. "I don’t know what ya expect me ta say ta dat…"

"We didn’t sleep tageddah, really," Spot told her.

Tinker tried to stifle a laugh but failed.

"What’s so funny?" Spot asked.

"I knew dat…ya had yoah shirts on da floor but not yoah pants…dat an’ ya had a sheet in-between ya," Tinker told him, laughing harder now.

"Ya saw dat?" Spot asked.

"I ain’t stupid," Tinker pointed out.

"Jersey’s gunna be upset dat her plan didn’t work," Spot told her.

"Yeah…nice try, doh," Tinker said.

Spot rolled his eyes. "Well…goodnight," he said, leaving.

"Yeah, g’night," Tinker replied.

~~~~~****~~~~~

Spot sighed as he closed the door quietly. "Well, ya screwed dat one up pretty bad Conlon," he muttered to himself. He took one look around the bunk room and realizing it didn’t look all that appealing he climbed out the fire escape instead of into bed.

Spot stayed up the entire night, reviewing his past with Tinker and Jack in his head. By two he had realized what a jerk he had been and had a small pile of half-smoked cigarettes that he had absent-mindly smoked.

He rubbed his eyes, exasperated with everything that had happened and was determined that he would be in a good mood for the rest of the day, hoping that Tinker would possibly forgive him and they could get over this. He hadn’t wanted to admit this to everyone, since his feelings weren’t up for public discussion, but he had been in a bad mood ever since he had turned the corner and found Tinker and Jack kissing.

Spot stood and went to get everyone up for the long day they had ahead of them.

~~~~~*****~~~~~

"Hey, wake up," Spot said, nudging Tinker.

Tinker mumbled incoherently and turned away from Spot, snuggling into the blankets.

Spot shook her arm again. "C’mon Tinkah. We gotta get goin’."

"Five moah minutes," Tinker muttered.

"Right now," Spot insisted, pushing a little harder.

Tinker pushed his hands away. "All right, I’m up," she informed him, her eyes fluttering open.

"Good, now let’s go," Spot suggested taking her hands and pulling her into a sitting position.

"I don’t wanna get up!" Tinker groaned.

"If we don’t get goin’ now den we won’t be in time ta get inta position," Spot reminded her, trying to drag her to her feet.

"I don’t care! All dey wanna do is soak Jack. He’s too cocky foh his own good anyway," Tinker whined, swaying on her feet sleepily.

Spot laughed. "As temptin’ as it is ta leave our best friend out ta dry I think dat I’ll go."

"Have fun," Tinker encouraged, edging back toward the bed.

"No ya don’t," Spot told her, grabbing her hands and pulling her out into the main bunk room full of many tired looking boys.

"Why da hell are you so awake dis mornin’?" Tinker asked, noticing he was the only ‘wide-eyed, bushy-tailed’ one of the group.

"Nevah went ta sleep last night. Things ta do," he told her.

"Care ta share?" Tinker inquired.

"Nope. C’mon you’se guys. Let’s get goin’ ta Manhattan," Spot ordered the entire group.

All the tired Brooklyners filed out the door and down the street toward Manhattan.

Tinker was surprised but pleased when Spot remained beside her during the walk. She felt a little odd with the awkward silence between them. Spot, however, showed no outward sign of even noticing the silence.

Finally, after a long pause, Tinker thought of something to say. "Uh …Spot? What’re we plannin’ ta do gettin’ theah dis early?"

"I wanna make shoah dat da othah newsies won't run so we’se gunna hide. If dey run den Brooklyn goes home an’ doesn’t help wid da strike. If dey fight den we’se in," Spot explained, looking slightly relieved they were talking.

"Um…not dat, dat isn’t a good idea an’ all but won't it be hard ta hide all dese people?" Tinker asked, looking at the multitude of newsies.

Spot cocked his head to the side. "Don’t ya trust me?" he joked with a smile.

Tinker laughed. "A course. Don’t know what I was thinkin’. Spot Conlon ain’t a mere mortal. I shoulda known bettah den ta question him," she teased.

"Dat’s right," Spot agreed, smugly. "Don’t you fohget dat."

"Course not," Tinker assured him. "Wouldn’t dream a it. Speakin’ a dreams yoah plan bettah be good cause I’m damn tired an’ could be sleepin’ in yoah nice, warm bed right ‘bout now."

Spot laughed. "It’s good. Relax already!"

The rest of the way Spot and Tinker joked back and forth. The conversation was slightly forced at some points but it was much better then it had been before. They managed to steer away from any subject that might have forced them to think about their future, both just relieved to be talking again.

During this time Tinker was thinking, "Dis is da Spot dat I fell in love wid. Da ole Spot befoah dis whole mess started."

Spot was thinking, "Aw…doesn’t she look cute when she’s sleepy…I wondah if I’ll evah see her like dis again…prolly not…Hell, I prolly won’t see her evah again. I doubt she’ll fohgive me foh befoah. Gotta remembah ta thank Joisey foh her brilliant plan."

~~~~~~In the Square~~~~~~

"All right, everyone dat I didn’t say find an alley or somethin’. I don’t care what ya do, jest be back in time foh da fight," Spot commanded. "Da boys I said, you follow me."

Spot, Tinker, and a group of Brooklyners walked toward the World Distribution Office. "Be really quiet, boys. Der’s people dat live heah," Spot warned in a hushed voice.

"Whadda we doin’, Spot?" asked a tall boy.

"We’se gunna climb up der," Spot said, pointing at the roof. "Den we’re gunna hide an’ we wait foh da attack."

The group nodded and followed Spot over the gate and up the roof.

"Stay down ‘til I give da sign," Spot ordered.

The boys all nodded and situated themselves around the Distribution Office, waiting for the coming event.

Tinker took her place next to Spot. Neither talked but just stared off into space, thinking. Tinker’s head was soon slipping to the side a little while she fought to keep her eyes open.

Spot noticed her on-going battle. "Tired?" he asked.

"Jest a little," Tinker admitted with a sheepish smile.

"C’mere," Spot said, putting an arm around her. "I’ll wake ya up when somethin’ happens."

Tinker looked very surprised before snuggling into him very content.

~~~~~~~A Few Hours Later~~~~~~

Spot noticed movement down below and removed his arm from Tinker. He propped her carefully against the wall before scrambling around the roof checking that his boys were awake and alert. Once he had gone around to all his boys he returned to his own place finding Tinker awake.

"Yoah up," he commented.

"Yeah well sleepin’ against a wall is hardah den sleepin’ against you," Tinker informed him with a sleepy smile.

"No kiddin," Spot joked. "I had ta warn da boys, see," he told her, pointing at the gang that was assembling down below.

Tinker looked at the sky. "Da newsies should be comin’ pretty soon."

~~~~~~~Down Below~~~~~~~

Wisel hurried forward to greet the leader of the Crips. "Yoah late," he said, angrily.

"We got heah in plenty a time," the leader assured him. "I don’t see any newsboys."

"We had an agreement," Wisel persisted.

"Yeah, you give me money an’ I show up ta scare off da little kids. I’se heah now wheah is me money?"

"Heahs da rest. Ya bettah do a good job or I sweah dat…" Wisel started.

"You’ll do what?" the leader asked, moving forward threateningly.

Wisel took a few steps backward for safety and then said, "Well, let’s jest say it won't look good foh yoah reputation if ya couldn’t take care of a few kids…"

The leader glared at him before taking the money and assuring him, "We’ll get da job done."

Wisel nodded. "We ring da bell in ‘bout twenty minutes. Make shoah yoah boys are ready," he told him before disappearing into the office.

~~~~~~~~On the Roof~~~~~~~~

"Look at dem," Tinker said in awe. "How could anyone be so horrible? Dey brought chains an’ stuff ta beat up little kids!"

Spot smirked. He never failed to be surprised by Tinker’s innocence. "Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll take care a it."

Tinker smiled at him. "I guess he is still da same Spot dat can make everythin’ right," she thought to herself.

Spot looked a little awkward for a moment before telling her, "Yoah not goin’ down der."

"What did ya say?" Tinker asked, confused.

"I said yoah not goin’ down der. I’se seen ya fight an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya," Spot reiterated.

"But…dey might need me help…I’ve got a bettah chance den some a da little kids dat’ll be der," Tinker protested.

"If yoah down der it’ll jest make me worried an’ I won't be able ta fight me best. Jest stay up heah, all right?" Spot asked.

Tinker thought it over for a moment. "Fine, if ya want me ta stay heah den I will," she decided.

Spot opened his mouth to stop her protests but was surprised when none came. He looked at her strangely. "Ya mean it?" he questioned, stunned.

"Yeah," Tinker said, as if it made perfect sense.

"Ya know dis is da first time ya’ve evah done anythin’ jest cause I asked ya," Spot told her.

Tinker laughed. "Don’t think dat it’s gunna become a habit," she warned him. "It’s jest dis once…gotta keep ya guessin’."

"It was too good ta be true," Spot joked.

They sat in silence for more time before Spot decided to tell her what was on his mind. "Tinkah?"

"Yeah?"

"Ya nevah liked Jack, right?" Spot asked.

"Well he’s a great friend an’ all…but not like dat…"

"Oh, well…den I’m sorry. I shouldn’t a…ya know…did what I did…" Spot told her, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Ya mean it?" she asked.

"Yeah…"

Tinker burst out laughed. "Dat’s da foist time ya’ve evah apologized ta me ‘bout anythin’!"

"No it isn’t," Spot protested. "I’ve known ya foh twelve yeahs I can’t be da first time dat I’se apologized!"

"Yeah it is! You haven’t evah apologized! Da closest ya came was when we were seven an’ you got mad an’ threw me doll dat me muddah gave me inta da watah! An’ den ya only said ‘dat was dumb a me ta do’."

Spot smiled sheepishly. "Well, der’s a foist foh everythin’. Jest don’t expect dat it’s gunna become a habit."

Tinker laughed. "Too good ta be true…"

"Ya know what would really be too good ta be true?" Spot asked, leadingly.

"No, what?"

"If ya could fohgive me?" Spot asked, trying not to seem too hopeful.

Tinker pretend to think about it for a moment. "All right, do you fohgive me too?"

"Yeah, definitely," he agreed.

"So…uh…now what?" Tinker asked.

"I dunno…maybe we could…uh…" Spot tried to suggest but he couldn’t quite get it out.

Tinker, being the more open of the two, simply asked, "Could we maybe give it anuddah shot?"

Spot smirked. "Yeah, I think dat’d me a good idea."

Tinker smiled. "I knew ya were gunna say dat…"

Spot looked at her oddly. "Uh…all right?"

"Oh…I had dat conversation wid Jack, huh? It’s jest I was braggin’ ‘bout how I can tell what yoah reactions ta stuff are gunna be," Tinker explained.

"Really…can ya tell what I’m gunna do next?" Spot asked.

"I’m thinkin’ yoah gunna kiss me," Tinker prophesied.

"Yoah good," Spot mumbled, leaning in to kiss her.

Tinker smiled before kissing him back. Their kiss continued on, maybe making up for lost time, for a long period of time.

Tinker finally noticed something out of the corner of her eye and turned her head abruptly.

"What?" Spot asked.

Tinker pointed. "Look," she ordered. Down on the ground Jack was surrounded by members of the Crips and things weren’t looking too good for him.

"Ah well," Spot muttered, going to kiss her again.

Tinker laughed. "C’mon Spot hurry up," she demanded. "Give da sign. Look he’s on da ground."

"All right, all right," Spot agreed. He waved to a couple of the boys on the roof and they popped up immediately. Spot then followed their example and popped up, raising his sling shot. "Nevah feah, Brooklyn is heah," he exclaimed, looking extremely cocky.

~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~

And the rest, as they say, is history. Tinker and Spot got back together and remained happily together for a very long time. Spot, although angry at Jack for a short while, maintained his friendship with him. The leader of the Crips was shamed after his brutal defeat by the newsies and had to leave New York after the rest of the city heard about it. Spot continued to help Jack with the Newsie Strike and eventually they beat the ‘big boys’.

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