Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. Disney also owns Tinkerbell. I own Micki and Matti, Dan, Sport, and Dreamer. Willow Bark Tea was used by Native Americans to help lower fevers and relieve pain. I don't know if they still use it or not though. :)

(A/N: Matti is based off Criminal Mind's Penelope Garcia.)

"Damn it, Micki….Where are you?" 19 year old Matilda 'Matti' Andrews whispered as she leaned against her best friend's apartment door. It had been three months since Michaela 'Micki' Jennings had gone missing and her family had stopped searching for. Supposedly they received a letter from her telling them to stop looking; however, they wouldn't let Matti read it. They're lying, they have to be. I know Micki, she wasn't very trusting but she was a good friend…She'd never just leave without telling me. Never.

She had been searching now for three months to the day and still there wasn't any sign of her best friend. Matti had retraced Micki's steps more times than she cared to count. She had even questioned Micki's elderly neighbor, Mrs. Lee, who gave her the same answer each time, "I haven't seen her dear. If I see her I will make sure to tell you."

Matti twirled a piece of her ash brown hair around her index finger, a nervous habit of hers, and sat down. She untwisted her hair and pulled a long and thick chain out from her under her t-shirt and held onto the old, heavy, metal skeleton key she always wore. It had belonged to Micki's great-great-great grandfather, Spot Conlon. She had given it to Matti a year ago; Matti had wanted proof that she and Micki were truly friends since Micki was always so closed off to trusting anyone.

"This used to belong to my great, great, great grandfather. His name was Spot Conlon. He was a newsboy leader. My dad would kill me if he knew I had given this away, but I'm giving it to you. It's the key to our friendship. If I wasn't sure of our friendship I would have never given it to you in fear you'd sell it." Micki had stated. Since that day Matti wore the key around her neck and only took it off once in a blue moon.

She stretched her legs out in the hallway and pulled her tye-dyed stockings up a little after finding a wrinkle near her ankle. Her shorts pockets were filled with her cell phone, inhaler, notepad and small pen, and a few dollars. Matti had also chosen to wear her favorite t-shirt, or as she called it her lucky t-shirt since she was wearing it when her college accepted her application. It was somewhere between a pink and a peach color with red roses lining the triangular neckline.

Matti squeezed her hand around the key, "I miss you, Micki. I'd do anything to know that you're safe…"

March 1, 1901…

Spot Conlon gripped the golden ball of his cane tightly as he squared his jaw and glared at the Harlem newsie before him. The nerve of this newsboy, coming into Brooklyn and soaking Spot's second in command, Sport. Damn Harlem anyway!

"What do youse have ta say for youse-self?" Spot demanded as thought of his choices: He could soak the kid and send him back to Harlem; but he already knew that's what this kid wanted. Harlem was starting trouble again, this time they were bypassing the Bronx and going straight to Brooklyn, the newsie king's territory.

The tall and lanky blonde newsboy gave a relaxed chuckle as if the entire thing was a game. His silver eyes glistened with mischief that was far from innocent. "Heya, Spot." He simply greeted, "Thought I'se would drop in ta say hello."

"Soakin' me second in command ain't sayin' hello," Spot snarled as he took his cane out from his belt loop, he slammed the tip onto the wooden boards of the dock. "I'se know what youse ah tryin' to do, I'se tellin' youse know: Cut da shit."

"Well, if I'se had some scissors –"

"Don't be smart wid me," Spot warned. He knew he was going to have to take care not to fall into the newsboy's trap. If he soaked the kid then Harlem would have a good reason to start a war. For a long time now Harlem's Leader, a kid by the name of Joker, wanted Spot's reputation as the newsboy king and the toughtest and most feared newsie in all of New York. Dat reputation didn't come ta me overnight and it certainly took more dan some war to earn it. I'se had ta woik yeahs for it! He thought to himself in anger. "Tell me youse name."

The kid's thin lips pressed into a tight and sarcastic smile, "Da Walkin' Mouth."

Spot's patience was wearing thin, there was only one walking mouth in New York and that was David Jacobs.

"Name."

"Youse mudda."

Spot's hand gripped his cane tighter, he was just itching to punch this kid straight in the face. "Give me youse name," Spot warned, "Or-"

"Or what? Youse can't soak me or youse will start a war." Again his smile seemed to widen.

"I'se don't need to soak youse to make a point," Spot exclaimed, "Give me youse name or I'se will make sure youse life and Jokah's life is a livin' hell."

"Is dat a threat?"

"A promise ain't a threat," Spot replied and had to fight a smirk when the other newsboy grimaced.

"Fox. Da name is Fox."

Fox. Harlem's trouble maker.

"Go home, Fox." Spot sneered, "Youse tell Jokah-"

"Jokah ain't da leader no more," Fox exclaimed, his smile was now open mouthed revealing yellow teeth, "I'se am."

No wonder Harlem is so damned outta control.

"How many newsies youse got wid youse?" Spot demanded as he scanned the docks, most of the boys were from Brooklyn; however he didn't recognize a handful of them. He looked back at Fox; the newsboy's name described him perfectly. The new Harlem leader was cunning and sly; his face was wide, his eyes were close together, and he always narrowed his eyes when speaking.

"Five….I figured I'se would be easy on youse dis time, Conlon…Since out of da two of us youse ah da weakest." Fox smirked and turned; he gave a sharp whistle and waved for his newsboys to follow him.

Weak? Spot Conlon is NOT weak! Everything went red, anger made his blood boil, and his teeth gritted as he began to shake with rage. Before his newsies could stop him his fist flew forward straight towards Fox's back.

Modern Day…Two Weeks Later…

"Matti, youse have got to stop bein' so stubborn," Dan exclaimed the next afternoon in Tibby's. He took a large bite of his hamburger and winked at the waitress as she passed by. After swallowing he looked back at Matti, "If Micki's family says lay off, den quit searchin' for heh. Her dad is da owner of da landscapin' business and if he fires youse den I'se really in deep shit. Losin' Micki set our last landscapin' job back by three weeks. If I'se lose youse too den I'se bettah jist write Mr. Jennings and tell him I'm shuttin' down da Lower Manhattan part of his business cause we ain't got enough man power….I don't wanna do dat."

"I know," Matti replied, "But….Micki was my friend."

"Micki was youse reluctant friend. Micki didn't trust anyone. She liked me, but she didn't trust me," he shrugged.

"She was bullied in high school."

"Everyone was bullied in high school….Some jist don't have an easy time gettin' ovah it. Youse had an easier time dan she did…..Listen, I'se liked Micki a lot, I'se can't lie about dat. She was a good goil, real nice, and tough. Sure, she did heh fair share of whinin' but so do we'se all. But like I'se said before: Lay off. If youse don't den I'se will be da one to fire youse. If I'se fire youse den I'se get to replace youse. If youse wanna keep youse job den quit da damned search."

Matti flinched and gripped the edge of the table, anger coursed through her veins.

"Micki never told you how we became friends did she?"

"Nope."

Matti shoved a french fry into her mouth and glanced outside, it was the second day of constant rain. A mother and a small boy darted across the wet street towards the grocery store. The mother was laughing and smiling and turning the crossing into a game for her child. Sitting at the bus stop across from Tibby's were two friends, both girls probably in their twenties. They were giggling and laughing about something. When Micki wasn't at work she giggled and laughed too.

"So?"

"So what?" Matti asked in confusion as she looked back at Dan.

"How did youse and Micki meet?"

"At a newsie convention," Matti replied. "Last year, I was still in high school and I was looking for a job. My parents had enough saved up to pay for my college's admission fee and half of the first class. Anyway, I was at the Manhattan booth and dressed like the Manhattan leader, Jack Kelly. She came over to me dressed as Spot Conlon and said, 'Hey Jacky Boy, youse still on strike?' We started talking and kept in role for the rest of the day. We exchanged e-mails and phone numbers." Matti took a sip of her soda.

"After about a week she called me and told me she worked for her father's landscaping business and they needed a replacement. She asked if I was interested and I said yes. That's how I got the job. I noticed at work she didn't talk too much but after work she was the Micki I had met. She told me about something that had happened to her in high school, her best friend betrayed her, and said she was reluctant to have friends…..Then she said the oddest thing."

"What's dat?" Dan asked as he finished off his hamburger.

"She said I reminded her of her cousin, Tammy and for some reason she felt that she could trust me. We became friends."

"Dat explains why she was whinin' so much da day she disappeared. Youse weren't at woik dat day. Come ta think of it, she did heh best work when youse were workin'."

Matti smiled, "Work sucks when she's not around."

"Yeah…I'se know. She made woik bettah for all of us….Look, until we'se heah otherwise we'se gotta go wid heh parents on dis one. Deys said deys got a lettah from Micki and she's happy. Let da girl be happy, I'se shoah she wouldn't want youse bein' so miserable. Now c'mon, lunch is ovah and if we'se don't finish Mr. Monroe's garden today dan he's gonna be searchin' for another landscapin' company. If he does dat then there's a good chance I'se gonna be fired." Dan stood and left a dollar on the table for the waitress. Matti left a dollar as well and the two paid their bills.

As Matti walked stepped into the street to get back into Dan's trust she heard the skid of tires and Dan's shout. She turned in time to see an old and beat up white car spinning towards her. The driver was screaming and attempting to take back control of his car. Without another thought, Matti lunged out of the way and landed halfway across the street and kept rolling….

March 10, 1901…

Micki Jennings Delancey expected to see many things but her best friend from 2010 rolling across the street and just missing a carriage was not one of them. Her heart pounded as she braced her hands on the table and stood. Her stomach was extended and any day she would be giving birth to she and Oscar's first child.

"Jack! Lily!" She called out from her booth.

Jack jumped, "What is it? Da baby?"

Lily was staring at her wide eyed as well and had quickly jumped to her feet, "Micki, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it's Matti whose not."

"Matti? The baby?" Lily asked.

"No," Micki replied as she waddled towards the door. She had finally admitted to herself that she now waddled instead of walked. It's worth walking like a duck to have this child. "Outside…" She made her way out of the restaurant and towards the bakery, she was giddy with excitement but nervous as well. What would Matti think about her being married and pregnant? Most importantly, was Matti alright?

Matti finally rolled to a stop and bumped against a wall. She blinked and looked up at the sign: Flabbersham's Bakery. Bakery? There's no bakery on this street. The pushed herself onto her back and sat up and glanced around in shock. Was she dreaming? Was she alive? The streets were made of cobblestone the buildings were extremely old….This couldn't have been New York.

"Get outta da road ya lunatic!" Someone barked. She looked up to find a man dressed in black with a large top hat on sitting on the driver's seat of a large black carriage. Eight horses were reigned in front of the carriage, four of them were black, two of them brown, one gray with white spots, and the last was black and white. The driver was clutching their reigns tightly and looked less than happy.

"Jeez, sorry fella I didn't know.....This…Was….A reenactment…." She pushed herself into the feet and walked out of the carriage's way. The streets were wide and there were carriages and wagons. No cars in sight. The foot traffic was tremendous, like the New York she remembered, however people were wearing Victorian and turn of the century clothing. It was then she noticed something even stranger: It was no longer raining. The sun was bright and shining people were ducking into a restaurant across the street. She turned and her heart leapt into her throat. Tibby's. Maybe I've stared at those newsie pictures on Tibby's walls for way too long.

"Matti!"

Matti turned, "MICKI?!" The largest shock yet now slapped her across the face. Her best friend was scrambling….and kind of waddling, towards her. Her stomach was extended and as she got closer Matti was able to make out a moving lump showing through Micki's dark blue dress. Micki wearing a dress? A dress that moves around her stomach? Wait that's not the dress moving….Oh holy shit she's pregnant!

"Matti!" Micki pulled her into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much!" She beamed and frowned, "How did you get here?"

"Beats me!" Matti replied, "Where the hell am I? What happened to you? You just…Poof, vanished into thin air! If Houdini were still alive he'd pay you millions to learn that disappearing act! And…You're uh….Pregnant?"

"I'm due any day now," Micki smiled as she wrapped an arm around Matti. "It's a long story, come into Tibby's with us." She placed her free hand on her stomach and looked up. Matti followed her gaze, a tall boy dressed as a Cowboy ran towards them, beside him was a short woman wearing a white sun dress and large white straw hat. Matti recognized the boy instantly: Jack Kelly.

"This is Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly, the one you dressed as for the convention," Micki winked, "And his wife, Lily."

"Uh….Hi…." Matti managed to stammer out. What else was she supposed to say?! She was back in time for Pete's sake! If she said anything wrong she could change the course of history! How was Micki so comfortable with all this?! She glanced down at Micki's left hand and almost passed out from the shock she received. In only three months time Micki had made friends, married, and was now about to have her first child. Maybe she wasn't back in time, maybe she and Micki were aboard an alien space ship.

"And that's what happened," Micki finished an hour and a half later. "So I've only been missing for three months? That's it? I've been here for a year in June I think."

"In a year that you've been here you help to take down a powerful mobster, you married the man of your dreams who is now the manager of the World Distribution Center, and you're pregnant. That's…..Fast." Matti exclaimed as she sipped her root beer.

Micki laughed, "It happened very quickly and believe me when I found out I was pregnant I was blown away. But poor Oscar passed out, he scared the crap out of his older brother, Morris."

"Jack!" A short boy with longer and curly raven black hair shouted as he ran in. His eye was bruised and the side of his arm had a large and thin cut down it that ended just above his wrist.

"Sport?"

"Come quick, it's Spot, he's hoit real bad!" Sport exclaimed, his dark brown eyes wide with worry and anger.

"Jack!" Micki exclaimed, "Take Matti with you, her mom's a Native American healer. She taught Matti all she needs to know, she can help!"

"Youse a healer?"

Matti jumped up and nodded, "My mom is a medicine woman."

"Alright, Matti, come on!" Jack exclaimed and rushed out of Tibby's.

"The bill—"

"Don't worry about it, I'll cover it," Micki assured, "Hurry! They won't wait up, Spot Conlon is the newsie king. When he's hurt real bad it is an emergency."

"Spot….Wait your grandfath-"

"GO!"

Matti ran after Jack and placed her hand on her purse. Damned good thing mom taught me to always keep a few bottles of herbs with me. A few minutes later she found herself panting and almost out of breath, she was halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge and Jack was so far ahead of her that all she could see was a gray and black blur with red around its neck. She took a deep breath and forced herself to keep running, her legs ached and her muscles were taut and felt as if they were on fire. Now she understood how guitar strings felt.

By the time Jack arrived at what looked to be a large house of some sort in front of the Brooklyn Docks, Matti wondered if she could rent a wheel chair. She panted as she walked in through the doorway and quickly straightened. A huge crowd of newsboys and newsgirls filled the lodging house's lobby. Some were holding their caps in their hands, while others were threatening to kill Fox, and a few others were muttering something about a war with Harlem.

"Matti, up heah!" Jack called from the second story landing.

"Coming!" She exclaimed as if she were fine. When he darted away from the banister she sighed, balled her fists, and forced herself to move. A few of the newsies stared while some snickered. Finally one of them, a young newsgirl - who was probably no older than six or seven - walked up to her.

"When you're climbin' da stairs stretch ya legs. It really helps." She gave a kind smile.

"Thanks," Matti smiled, "What's your name?"

"Dreamer. Yours?"

"Matti." She replied as she climbed onto the first stair and took the newsgirl's advice. She skipped a stair and stretched her leg, though the pain didn't fully go away it dulled to the point she was able to ignore it. She followed Jack's voice into a large bunkroom with only three beds in it. Two of the beds were bunk beds, the third bed wasn't. Lying on top of it was a short boy with light brown hair, his face was bruised and blood was caked around corners of his eyes and under his nose. That's not good, not good at all. He could have brain damage.

As she became closer she noticed the boy's wrists were bruised in the shape of hands. His shirt was bloody and torn, his pants seemed to somehow survive, but his shoes were missing.

"It's bad, Jack," the boy exclaimed. "Harlem's gotten woise since Fox took ovah. I'se wasn't outta da lodgin' house for a minute when deys got me, me Jacky Boy, Spot Conlon. No one gets da King of Brooklyn an' soaks him. No one."

"We'se brought help, Spot," Jack exclaimed and moved aside for Matti. She swallowed nervously and looked down at Spot. The moment she saw him she automatically could see Micki in his face. They both had the same toughness about them, and both had larger eyes, and both seemed to be more stubborn than a donkey. In his case it's good. It's that stubbornness that's keeping him conscious.

"Hi Spot, I'm Matti," she greeted softly, "I'm a healer."

"A witch?"

"No. Native American…."

Spot stared blankly at her.

"Indian."

"Oh. Jack why is she heah?"

"To heal ya!"

"Den heal me, get it ovah wid. I'se gonna soak da bastards dat did dis ta me."

"Not anytime soon you're not," Matti muttered under her breath as she reached into her purse. Herbs alone wouldn't help him.

"What'd youse say?" Spot asked as he narrowed his icy blue eyes.

"That you need to be quiet so I can help you," Matti replied hastily, "Jack I need two warm bowls of water: the first needs to be soapy water, the second just water. I also need towels, cloths, rags, or any kind of fabric you all have that's clean. I also need old sheets you won't be needing and I need lots of pillows." She paused and lifted Spot's pant legs.

"Hey! Hey!" The newsboy exclaimed.

"Hold still! You're going to hurt yourself even more with that struggling," she scolded. His legs were swollen and bruised but much better than the rest of him.

"No one tells Spot Conlon what to do!"

"No one but your healer, now be quiet!" Matti snapped.

"I'se will get da stuff youse need." Jack replied as he eyed Matti and Spot. "Jist ta let youse know…Uh Spot-"

"Is the newsie king, I know, I know," Matti replied. "Believe me, I'll treat him with all the respect I can muster up. Will you hold still?!"

Almost ten minutes later Matti had managed to scrounge up a few newsboy to get Spot stripped down to his underpants. She couldn't say the newsie king was happy with his current state, but at the moment she could care less. Cleaning those wounds and getting all the swelling down was her first priority.

"Heahs da water, rags, sheets, and pillows youse asked for," Jack replied as he walked in carrying two bowls. Behind him came a long line of newsies.

"Thank you Jack. Spot, this is going to sting-"

"I'se can handle it!" He stubbornly snapped.

"We have cold milk!" Dreamer exclaimed as she darted into the room with three glass bottles of milk tucked under her arm.

"Dat's our milk for da week! Put dem back!" Spot exclaimed.

"Alright-"

"Leave them with me, Dreamer." Matti replied calmly, "I'll get you all some more I promise."

Spot stared at her, "Youse can't jist go ta market and buy milk! Youse gotta get it from da milk man and in case ya didn't notice, it's hard ta get him ta come by dis lodgin' house!"

"Don't worry, I'll talk to him. I'll make sure he swings by," she replied reassuringly.

"He won't listen to youse!" Spot exclaimed as he struggled to sit up. Matti gently pushed him back onto the mattress. "Youse a goil and youse wearin'….What da hell ah youse wearin'?"

At that moment every newsie in room stared at her and Matti found herself feeling a little more than self conscious. They probably stared at her hair first; though in her time it was a popular hairstyle, in this time it had never been seen before. She had pulled it into a high pony tail and never finished pulling the tail through the last twist in the hair band. The rest of her hair hung down and framed the sides of her face. Her glasses were a dark shade of red and had a tiny rhinestone set in the beginning of each ear piece of the frames.

She wore her favorite white peasant blouse under a black rain jacket with a large picture of Tinker Bell on the back; under her picture were the words: Perfect Little Flirt. She wore another pair of denim shorts, and polka dotted stockings; the stockings were white and the polka dots were different pastel colors. Then, her favorite and worn down white and green sneakers, and the key Micki had given her.

"Youse shoah do dress oddly," Jack muttered, "Even weirder dan Fred and Micki did."

"Fred? There's a third person who came from….A faraway place too?"

"Yeah, she's Racetrack's wife," Jack replied.

Matti blinked, just how many people from her time had wound back in the newsies time? She'd have to ask Micki later. She glanced at the newsies and decided to ignore their stares it was then she remembered Spot had said something about her being a woman.

"We women are just as good as you men," Matti exclaimed and then shrugged off the beginning of a bad attitude. As a healer she had to be positive, any negative energy could affect her patient, in this case a stubborn and egotistic newsboy, poorly. She looked at Dreamer, "Thank you sweetie."

"I'se stayin'," she said softly, "Spot's me big brother."

"Alright," Matti smiled, "I need a helper. Could you hand me soapy rags when I ask for them and hold your brother's hand?"

Dreamer nodded and held Spot's hand. Matti noticed that the moment she did the newsie king instantly seemed to calm, though his eyes followed her every move. And I thought Micki was untrusting, sheesh!

Matti began to clean the cuts and winced each time Spot flinched or tensed. Though he was a bit annoying she would never wish to hurt him. She tried to be as gentle and quick as possible. But the deeper cuts had to be cleaned carefully. When she was finally done cleaning his wounds and bruises she dried him off.

"Jack, do you all still have warm water?"

He nodded, "Yeah, downstairs."

"Can you bring up a cup of it?" Matti asked as she unzipped her purse and took out a few bottles of her herbs. After a minute of searching she found her bottle of Willow Bark.

"Is dat tree bark?" Spot asked wide eyed as Jack rushed downstairs.

"Sure is," she replied.

"Youse gonna put dat on me?"

"No, the bark goes into the water and I let it soak there for a minute. After it soaks you need to drink it."

"I'se ain't drinkin' no tree bark! What do I'se look like?! A farm animal?!"

Temper….Temper….Matti took in a deep breath to keep herself calm, "Willow Bark is known for helping inflammation, relieving pain, and reducing fevers. My mother had me drink Willow Bark Tea when I was a child. I broke my arm and it helped to relieve pain and helped me to heal. I promise you, Spot, nothing bad will happen to you. I can promise you one thing; if drinking tree bark turned you into an animal then I would have turned into one years ago."

"I'se ain't drinkin' it!" He crossed his arms and yelped in pain and quickly laid them down on the stack of pillows on either side of him.

"You want to get better and make sure this never happens to you again?" Matti asked, "Or do you want to lay here in pain and whine all day?"

"I'se want to get bettah!"

"Then when I make it, shut up and drink it." She noticed the room had become so silent it could have been confused for a funeral parlor. Everyone was staring at her in shock, the only person who was smiling was Dreamer.

"I like how you talk to my brother," She smiled, "You're not afraid of him! Everyone else is really afraid of him so he never gets in trouble."

"Well, that's changed. As long as he's in this bed healing I can catch him when he gets in trouble," she smiled. She paused and stared around the room, "I'm helping him get better. I can help you all too whenever you need it." She looked at Spot, who staring at her as if she was the evilest person to ever walk the face of the planet. "I need to make a garden, do you all have a backyard?"

"Yeah," Spot grumbled. "Why?"

"So I can plant herbs and continue making medicines to keep you all healthy," Matti replied.

Spot narrowed his eyes, "Why da hell would youse want ta help us?"

"Because I want too," she replied without a further explanation. She looked behind her as Jack entered the room. A few minutes later the tea was made and Spot was reluctantly sipping it. As he drank, Matti took the opportunity to stuff more pillows under his legs and another under his head. She bandaged his legs and put his left wrist into a splint. He had a few cracked ribs, but after a few weeks they'd heal as long as he rested.

Spot eyed this 'Matti' girl in front of him. It had been seven hours since she arrived; she had cleaned him up and cared for him. Though he didn't want to admit it that Willow Bark Tea had helped. He still hurt, but not as badly, and he was able to open his right all the way again. The sky had long since gone dark and Sport had just returned an hour earlier from selling his papes.

"She's a nice goil, Spot and she really saved youse hide."

"Don't remind me," Spot grumbled. He hated being in debt to anyone, especially a girl who made him drink tree bark.

"Aw, come on, Spot," Sport exclaimed, "Youse usually chasin' goils like heh. What's wrong wid dis one?"

"She's too damned bossy and everyone listens ta heh instead of me!"

"Dat's because she knows what she's doin' and she saved our leader. Youse coulda been a hell of a lot worse if it wasn't for heh!"

Spot glanced at his second in command, "Yeah, I'se coulda been but I'se woulda been fine."

"Oh yeah, fine. Youse told me ta run ta Manhattan and get Jack cause youse thought youse were gonna die."

Spot felt a blush creeping up his neck, "I'se was hoit! Youse said da same to me a few days ago! Dis how youse repay me by mockin' me?"

"Youse did da same wid me," Sport smirked. "So what are ya gonna nickname heh?"

"Who said I'se was?"

"Gimme a break, youse nickname every new newsie, especially da goils. So, what's heh name gonna be?"

Spot sighed, "Fine, fine, I'se got a name for heh…."

Sport leaned forward.

"Angel."

Sport's eyebrows raised and a smile crept onto his lips, "So youse do like heh!"

"No! She was jist…An angel cause she helped me dat's it."

"What's going on in here?" Matti asked as she walked in.

"Spot nicknamed ya. Youse an official newsie now," Sport beamed.

"Oh?" She asked in surprise.

Spot looked at Matti, as much as he hated to admit it she did look like an angel. "Angel."

For a moment Matti was frozen, Spot had nicknamed her Angel. She blinked rapidly to fight back the tears in her eyes. Although Spot hadn't said thank you (he had been too stubborn) she assumed this was his way of thanking her.

"Angel," she smiled, "I like it."

"Well den, welcome to da Brooklyn Lodgin' House, Angel. Manhattan don't get youse back until I'se bettah," Spot exclaimed. "I'se goin' ta sleep now."

"Don't mind him," Sport chuckled, "I'se don't t'ink he knows what ta do around a woman wid brains."

Matti laughed, "I think I'm going to have to get used to referring to myself as Angel."

"Youse don't hafta, but it's a good idea since dat's what everyone's gonna be callin' youse now." Sport smirked.

Angel smiled, "Well, I don't mind that a single bit. I'll take my nickname as Spot's way of saying thanks."

"Youse know what," Sport said as he sat down on his bunk, "I'se t'ink dat is his way of sayin' t'anks. Did he tell ya wheah to sleep yet?"

"I wanted to be in the newsgirls bunkroom but he wouldn't hear of it. I think he wants me near incase he wakes up hurting in middle of the night," Angel replied with a small shrug, "So I'm staying in his sister's bunk with her."

Sport nodded, "Yeah, dat's a good bunk, it has a curtain around it so youse got youse privacy. If Spot wakes up, I'll get ya."

"Thanks, you're planning to go to sleep tonight, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "But when Spot wakes I'se will know."

"Sport! Go ta sleep already!" Spot snapped.

"Are you two….Brothers or something?" Angel asked with a raised eyebrow.

The newsboy laughed, "Not by blood. But we'se known each odda since we'se were three. So we'se consider ourselves bruddas." He leaned forward and whispered, "Spot's sistah, Dreamer, likes ya so dat's half da battle won right dere. She usually don't like new newsgirls, so Spot's probably already warmin' up ta youse but he's too damned stubborn ta admit it."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Angel asked with a small chuckle.