Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies...though I wish I did...mmmm...anyways. I don't even own Kidah, she's property of my best friend, I'm using her with permission so it's all good. Newsies I believe still belong to Disney...the big meanies...I spent four months working for that place and they STILL won't let me have them!! Oh well...someday. I do however, lay claim to any original character that pops up (right now that would be Squints, Corky, and Krista who you'll meet later). I believe that is all.

Author's Note: Please be kind and review. I've been working hard on this story and really hope that people enjoy it. Also a slight warning...throughout the story there will be swearing and soft-n-fluffy slash (Sputchy). Nothing too major on either counts and in fact the slash is probably going to be more implied than anything else...unless I get a wild hare and decide to do a bit more than subtle hints/implication :winkwink:. At any rate...enjoy the story and please be sure to leave me a review. Thank you.

CHAPTER ONE
July 19th, 1902

Dutchy sighed as he leaned his thin frame back against the cool brick wall. The afternoon sun had been brutal that day, melting the tar on the docks and radiated off the streets. Summers had always been his favorite time of the year; he loved the warmth of the sun on his skin, the sights and sounds of everything so alive. Sure it was never fun sweating off pounds he really couldn't afford to lose, but just being able to be outside in the fresh air and spend his free time lounging in the shade of a building or trees to watch the clouds drift lazily by made it all worth it.

He liked to wander through the parks during the summer, hands tucked into his pockets as he whistled to himself, watching as the younger kids—free from their worries of school masters and homework—played ball under the canopy of lush green leaves. On more than one occasion, Dutchy would find himself meandering over to a game if he saw they had an odd number of players and offer to play with them. He loved playing games with the younger kids. He would even find himself getting into the same silly arguments with the "umpire" over a bad call. It didn't matter that he was nearing on being an "adult", for some reason, he still believed in his heart that he was just as young as the kids he joined games with. They seemed to have the same energy and zest for life that he still possessed. All too soon though, the games would be over; the kids all running back to their homes for dinner as the sun would dip below the city and he would once again be alone to wander.

That day in particular Dutchy made sure to spend as much time playing and daydreaming as he could. As he sat against the shipping warehouse, watching the moon reflect off the river, he sighed once more and closed his eyes. A warm breeze brushed against his soft pink skin—the sun having slightly burned it that afternoon as he attempted to sell his papers. He smiled slightly to himself as he felt the gentle wind rustling his straw-blond hair as he leaned his head back in thought. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to sell the papers he hawked on the corner and as he glanced down at the half-dozen unsold evening editions by his side, he couldn't help but wonder why that was. He would change his call and technique every so often to keep things fresh, he would even do flips and dance moves to get people's attention. Lately though, it seemed all it was doing was getting him funny looks from the passerby's.

Reaching a hand up to push his bangs out from his eyes, he blinked twice before pulling his hand away, staring at his arms and hands as if he'd never seen them before. Funny how he never noticed that his wrists stuck a good two inches out past his dirty old shirt cuffs until just then. Stretching his lanky legs out in front of him, he blinked in the moonlight as he noticed even his pants legs were a tad shorter than what he always remembered them being. No wonder people were giving him strange looks on the street. How long had he been walking around in clothes that he'd since out grown and never had the notion to notice?

"I thought I might find you here," A sweet voice said to his right. Lifting his head and pushing his shaggy blond bangs out of his deep blue eyes, Dutchy looked up at the shadow and smiled a little.

"Hey Kidah," he answered, smiling some as he looked back out over the water.

Emily, or Kidah as she was more commonly known as, was a former newsgirl turned writer. She was also the wife to one of Dutchy's best friends, Pie-Eater. Dutch still found it hard to believe that the two had actually gotten married the Christmas before. It hadn't been anything big or spectacular, just a nice private little ceremony with only their closest friends and one of the priests who helped run and support the newsies lodging house. Granted, both Pie and Kid were nineteen already and Pie-Eater—who had started to go more by his real name of Peter than his newsie nickname—had managed to get himself a "real job" working on the docks, it was still hard for Dutchy to picture them as anything other than the kids he'd grown up with.

Kidah smiled as she leaned against the wall next to his head and placed a caring hand on his hair. She'd always had an instinctive maternal aura about her that made her seem far beyond her age and always made Dutchy just want to tug on her sleeve and playfully ask what she would be making them all for dinner that night.

"What brings you out this way this time of night?" He questioned, picking a rock up from next to him and lamely tossing it towards the water.

"Pie-Eater. He'd forgotten something in the warehouse and had to come back for it, so I decided to tag along. Figured it was a nice night and knowing you, you'd be out either wandering or soaking in peace and quiet next to the water. Looks like I was right." She answered with a small chuckle as she looked out over the water.

"Yeah," Dutch said softly, staring out in front of him, "you usually are right."

"That's why I'm the mommy," was Kidah's response. Dutchy couldn't help but laugh some as he shook his head. That phrase had always been one of her favorite things to say, even when she was still living in a lodging house, and given that most of the younger ones had often looked to her as a mother figure it had always stood true.

The pair sat in silence for a time, listening to the crickets chirp and the occasional gurgle from the river as different water bound animals would move in and out of the lazy current. The full moon above cast its pale white glow down around them, causing tiny sparkling diamonds to appear in the water. Closing his eyes once more as another gust of warm air rushed against him, he wished he could stay outside like that forever.

"Oh…here, I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this but, well, now seems like as good of a time as any," Kidah said, breaking the silence between them as she dug into her pocket and pulled a rectangular shaped item from it.

Dutchy cast his wire-framed glasses up towards her and knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. It was funny how, even at nineteen and as a married woman none-the-less, Kidah still would wander the streets dressed in long pants and a men's shirt. He supposed it only seemed right though since the paper she did correspondence for thought she was in fact a man and that her name was Emile instead of Emily. Reaching out to take the package from her, he tilted his head to one side.

"What's this for?"

"You're birthday, Muttonhead. I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but seeing as how that's when everyone else will be showering you in love and affection and gifts, I thought I'd give it to you now. Well don't just sit there staring at it, open it!"

Dutchy broke into a wide smile as he tore into the plain brown paper. He hadn't exactly been looking forward to turning eighteen the following day, which was why he'd spent so much of this time that day trying to act as much as a child as he could while he still had the chance. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his birthday; he did, and for as long as he could remember his birthdays had always been fairly decent. True there had been years where all he had gotten was a verbal good wish for the day and not a single present, but it hadn't mattered to him. People cared enough about him to at least wish him a happy birthday, and that was really all that mattered to him. Though, for some reason, the thought of turning eighteen had seemed to bring his excitement to an end.

"What is it?" He questioned.

"It's a book!"

Rolling his eyes and giving a small smile, he glanced back up at her. "I can tell that much, I mean…what book is it? I can't see the title."

"Oh…it's called The Sketch Book. It's a collection of Washington Irving stories, like Rip Van Winkle and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I thought you might like it. Apparently Washington would go up North of the city and listen to old Dutch ghost stories and such and, well…I don't know, it made me think of you." Kidah answered with a shrug as she leaned against the wall and looked down at him. "Do you like it?"

Smiling, Dutchy slowly opened the cover and ran his hand down the smooth cool page inside. He hated to admit that he'd never owned a single book in all his life and that her gift meant more to him than he could even begin to describe. Nodding, he closed it again and stood up to give her a thanking hug.

"I love it, thank you. Just one thing," Arching an eyebrow, he tilted his head a little and chuckled, "you guys do know I'm not really Dutch, right? I mean, don't get me wrong I love the thought but, I still want to know why everyone thinks just because I go by Dutchy that it automatically makes me Dutch."

Kidah laughed as she smiled and hugged him back.

"I know you're not, but I still thought you might like it, anyways."

"I do, I love it, really. Thank you, Kidah. I mean it. This is probably the best birthday present I've ever gotten." Dutchy smiled as he pulled back from the hug and looked back down at the book in his hands. He couldn't wait to get back to the lodging house and sprawl out on the foyer floor to read by lamp light.

Nodding and tucking her hands behind her back, Kidah glanced over her shoulder as she saw the light from a couple warehouses down go out and a lone figure step out the door. Smiling wistfully, she gave a small sigh before looking back at her friend.

"That's Pie-Eater, I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow night, though!"

"Heh, tomorrow night…right. I'll see you then. Say hi to your guy for me. The bunkroom sure isn't the same without him in there."

"I will, Dutch." Kidah gave a small smile as she leaned in and up to give his cheek a quick peck before squeezing his arm and turning to head off down the dock to where her husband stood waiting for her.

Dutch gave a wave to the pair, smiling slightly in the moonlight as he watched them walk off. Leaning down to scoop up his unsold papers, he looked back down at his book and couldn't keep the wide smile from spreading across his face. It had been a very, very long time since he'd had any form of a bedtime story, now thanks to the thoughtfulness of his friends he had an entire book filled with stories for him to read at the end of the night. Looking up at the moon directly over head, Dutchy took in a deep, contented breath before he started his leisurely stroll back to Duane Street where his nickel-a-night bunk sat waiting for his return.