Requested by simply_jenna2003

Summary: You're Wiesel's daughter, but you support the newsies. You also have a crush on a certain someone...

QOTP: Who's your favorite newsie?

Word Count: 2940

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says, his smile almost a smirk as he puts the papers he just bought from you in his bag.

You try not to blush at the name, seeing as he's called you it a hundred times now - 'he' being Jack Kelly, a long-time newsie who likes to harmlessly flirt with you on occasion.

"I should punch that boy one of these days," you father mutters, giving papers to the next newsie in line - your father being Wiesel, who the newsies like to call "Weasel."

"Oh, he's not hurting anybody," you reply. "Just leave him alone."

"This nonsense has gone on long enough, you know," your father says. "He's penniless, Y/N. There's no future with him."

"I never said anything about that," you argue indignantly, hiding your blush. "I meant exactly what I said: He's not hurting anybody - certainly not me - and you might as well just leave him alone."

Your father sighs. "Well, if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: Penniless!"

////

You heard the word "strike" being tossed around one day, so it doesn't surprise you when it actually happens.

The newsies are surprised, however, when you show up to a strike meeting.

"We're not negotiating, sweetheart," Jack says. "We're continuing the strike, and that's final."

"I know," you reply simply, kind of enjoying the look of confusion on his face.

"Then, why are you here?" he asks, genuinely perplexed.

Before you can answer, Spot very matter-of-factly says, "She's a spy."

This, of course, makes all of the newsies begin to talk all at once, some even shouting to throw you out.

"I'm not-!" you start, but the volume in the room reaches a crescendo. "I'M NOT A SPY!" All of the newsies stop talking, surprised. You continue at a lower volume. "I'm not a spy. I'm here to help you in any way that I can. I'm on your side."

Then, the talking starts up again. Jack says, "Hold on! Everybody just calm down a second!" He turns to you. "Why would you want to help us?"

"Because you deserve it? And my father also works for Pulitzer, so that could be an advantage?" you reply, confused as to why he'd need such obvious answers.

"But you said it yourself - your dad works for Pulitzer."

"So?"

"So, when we strike, your dad's out of work. And if we get what we want, he'll probably end up getting paid less."

"Exactly," you reply. "If I help you, you'll win the strike and it'll be over a lot quicker. And we can handle the drop in Dad's pay. It won't make much difference."

"But you really want us to win?" Jack just can't seem to wrap his mind around this.

You're exasperated. "Yes. Pulitzer treats you like dirt, thinking he can do whatever he wants to you and you're helpless to stop him. But he's more dependent on you than you are on him. Without you, there's basically no company. His paper sales would drop dramatically, never mind the newspaper stalls. Plus, I've always liked David vs. Goliath stories."

"Couldn't've said it better myself," a new newsie - Davey - says.

After a moment's hesitation, Jack grins. "Welcome to the strike, sweetheart."

////

This was definitely not what you signed up for, but here you are anyway: Dressed as a boy, fighting/running from the cops.

You decided it'd be best to be in disguise during the bigger demonstrations so your dad wouldn't recognize you, seeing as he'd probably be upset by it - especially at first.

Then, the cops showed up during a demonstration and started getting physical - even trying to drag some boys off to the Refuge.

A lot of the boys ran and got away, but you're still here with the ones who couldn't and the ones who didn't try to - namely, Jack.

You can see him fighting a cop through a blur of other cops and newsies, and you're trying to make it over to him purely because just standing next to him would make you feel a whole lot safer in this situation.

Suddenly, you're grabbed from behind.

On pure instinct, you scream, "Jack!" and begin kicking and fighting with everything you have. The cop holding you is shouting at you, but you can't make out what he's saying. You land a few blows, weakening his grip. Then, you remember you have a secret weapon.

You're a girl.

You get your arm up and pull off the hat that's holding your hair up, hoping that that will make him realize you're not a boy.

It does, and, in his surprise, you're able to get free and hit the ground, scrambling to your feet and running as fast you possibly can toward Jack, who was already heading to you.

"Get up to the penthouse," he says, and you don't argue. You want to help, but this is getting completely out of hand.

You run for the fire escape leading up to Jack's "penthouse", a place you've spent a lot of time in recently with Jack and often Katherine, the reporter for The Sun that's going to help the newsies in the strike.

As you're climbing up, you stop and look back, seeing Crutchie trying to get away from a cop. Jack's fighting, too, and he's too far away to help.

After a split second decision, you start climbing back down as fast as you possibly can.

"Crutchie!" you and Jack shout, almost simultaneously. You hit the ground and run for him, Jack soon on your heels, but it's too late. He's taken away.

In your shock and desperation to save Crutchie, you don't notice the cops around you, still ready to take as many as they can to the Refuge. Jack does.

He grabs your hand, half-dragging you back towards the fire escape. "Come on!"

He lets you climb up first and follows close behind you, both of you making your way up as fast as you possibly can.

When you make it to the top, you lie there on your back, looking up at the sky and breathing heavily. Jack sits down next to you, back leaned against the railing, processing everything that just happened.

It doesn't take long.

"I can't believe I just let Crutchie get taken away like that," he says, in the depths of his despair.

"You didn't-"

"I'm supposed to protect him. That's my job. Him and all the others, whether they like it or not. I-I'm the leader. I'm the leader of this whole stupid strike and I just blew it."

"Jack-" you start gently, trying to get him to listen.

"No," he interrupts. "I'm a failure. That's all I am... I failed everybody."

"No, you didn't."

"What do you mean I-?"

This time, you interrupt him. "Look at me, Jack. I'm still here, safe and sound. You didn't fail me. Honestly, you didn't fail anybody. None of that was your fault. It's a strike, and Pulitzer's screwed and he knows it, so he's gonna try everything short of meeting your demands to end it."

"But I didn't protect Crutchie from getting sent to the Refuge," he argues. "I didn't stop it."

"I didn't, either," you reply, standing. "But I know it wasn't my fault - nor yours. We will get him back, but you need to quit your moping and do something about it. So, let's go."

He looks up at you dejectedly. All hope is lost for him. "Davey's a better leader than I'd ever be, Y/N. Go talk to him."

You regard him for a second, finding that you want nothing more than to comfort him and see him smile again. Finally, you sigh. "Alright, fine. I will."

As you climb down the ladder, you wait for him to say something - to call your name, tell you to stop and come back. But he doesn't.

He doesn't say anything.

////

"Well, you're up, Davey. Good luck," you say to the boy, standing in Medda Larkin's theater, where Jack is painting backdrops in the basement.

"Me?" Davey asks. "I thought you were going to talk to him?"

"I already tried, and he wouldn't listen," you reply, referencing your talk in his "penthouse" after Crutchie got taken to the Refuge.

"Well, try again," Katherine says, "because if anyone's gonna convince him, it's you."

Your brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on," Les says, rolling his eyes. "I'm ten and even I understand."

Katherine chuckles at Les. "He likes you, Y/N. A lot."

You grow flustered, unable to form an actual sentence. "I- He- Wh-What...?"

"It's obvious," Katherine says.

"Why do you think none of the other newsies have ever flirted with you before?" Davey asks. "I mean, a lot of them flirt with anything that moves."

"But not me..." you trail off, realizing he's right.

"Yep," Les says. "Jack staked his claim to you."

"Now, I don't think-" you start.

"I mean, that's essentially what he did, whether he intended to or not," Katherine says, interrupting you. "He likes you, and everyone knows it, so they leave you alone. And now you know, too."

You think for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Well, why don't you ask him and see?" Davey replies, gesturing to the basement door.

You sigh. "Alright, fine."

////

"Jack?"

He has to admit that he's happy to hear your voice, but at the same time he knows why you're here. He doesn't turn around - though he wants to - and continues painting. "Hey, sweetheart."

"The strike isn't over yet," you say, coming to stand next to him, "so what are you doing here painting?"

"I'm out," he says. "I screwed up. I'm not doing it anymore."

"But you're their leader, Jack."

"I'm a lousy one."

"What did I say before?" you ask sternly.

He almost smirks. "Pulitzer's screwed and he knows it?"

You chuckle. "Yes, but that's not what I was looking for."

He sighs and stops painting, finally looking at you. "We're gonna get Crutchie back, so I need to stop my moping and do something about it."

"Exactly," you reply. "So why aren't you doing anything?"

"I am. I'm painting."

You roll your eyes. "Yes, and it's a very beautiful painting, but that's not what's important right now."

He takes a moment to answer, and when he does he's almost mumbling. "I told ya to go talk to Davey."

"I did. And he said he couldn't do it without you. He's upstairs right now - with Les and Katherine."

"Waitin' for me?"

"What else would they be doing?"

He sighs again and sets the paintbrush down. "Y/N, I... I don't know if I can."

"Just try-"

"Y/N-"

"For me?" you ask sweetly, even going so far as to bat your eyelashes at him, almost pouting in a very convincing puppy dog face.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Now, what did ya have to go and do that for?"

"I was told some information before I came down here that made me think that that would work," you reply vaguely.

He cocks a brow. "What sort of 'information'?"

"The - apparently - obvious kind."

"Well, it's not obvious to me."

"It wasn't to me, either, but it makes sense now that I think about it."

"What is it?"

You take a step closer to him. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he replies, taking a step toward you.

"No," you reply, "because it'll be very embarrassing and disappointing if I'm wrong."

He thinks for a moment, then asks. "Would this 'information' happen to have something to do with me?" You nod, so he asks, "Does it involve you, too?"

"It does."

"Was it - maybe - that I kinda, sorta... like you a little bit?" he asks sheepishly.

You chuckle. "Well, they made that sound like the understatement of the year, but, essentially - yes, it was."

"And how do you feel about that...?"

"Pretty happy, considering I kinda, sorta like you a little bit, too." He grins, sure that he's never felt more relief in his life. You grin, too. "So does this mean you're gonna try again?"

He shakes his head, chuckling at you. "I can't believe you'd use my own feelings against me like this."

"Well, we need you!" you exclaim, also laughing. "So if that's what it takes, then yes, I am."

"You'd do whatever it takes, huh?" he asks, smirking.

You nod, though you're a little worried by the look on his face. "Yes, I would."

"Even if that meant goin' out with me?"

You find yourself smiling. "Yes."

He smiles, too. "Okay, then. Let's try this again."

////

You can't believe what you're hearing. This is the first time you've seen Jack since he went to confront Pulitzer (by himself, as he insisted), and he's standing up on a stage in front of all the newsies, telling them to give up. To take Pulitzer's deal and just give up.

Davey and Les are angry, as are most of the other boys. They don't listen and leave, determined to see this strike through.

"You're just giving up?" you ask, unable to believe it. "I haven't been lying to my father about where I've been everyday for you to just-"

He shakes his head, clearly upset over the decision he's had to make. "No. I... Pulitzer said that if I didn't take the deal, he'd send us all to the Refuge. I didn't wanna risk that. I couldn't."

Now understanding the situation, you feel more upset than angry. "Jack-"

"And... I found out that Katherine's his daughter."

"She's what?!" you exclaim.

"Pulitzer's daughter."

"But she said her last name was-"

"Not Pulitzer?" Jack interrupts. "Yeah, I know."

You think for a moment. "Maybe there's an explanation. Maybe she was really trying to help."

"Then why would she lie?"

"Because she knew we'd react like this?"

"You didn't lie," Jack points out. "And now we're going out, for cryin' out loud!"

"I couldn't've lied if I wanted to. You already knew," you reply. He sighs, knowing you're right. "Let's just talk to her," you suggest.

Jack hesitates, then says, "Okay, fine."

////

Katherine explained that she didn't mention that she's Pulitzer's daughter for precisely the reason you said - how you reacted, that you wouldn't've let her help, etc. - and assured you she's on your side.

You also learned why Jack was sent to the Refuge - he stole food and clothing for the boys there - and you found his drawings of the Refuge. Katherine had an idea to print the drawings, alerting the public to the horrors in it. Jack agreed, even finding a printer to actually print the papers.

"I hope this works," Jack says, passing printed papers to you.

You pass the papers to Davey. "It will. I'm sure of it."

The paper, after it's printed, makes it's way to Governor Roosevelt, who shows up to support the newsies, forcing Pulitzer to compromise with Jack. He now has to buy back the papers the newsies don't sell, which will cause more newsies to want to sell his papers.

Crutchie is also freed from the Refuge, which is shut down, and the strike is over.

You did it.

"We did it!" Jack says, elated. He hugs you tightly, both of you happily laughing. Then, he pulls back just to enough to look at you, and without warning, kisses you. After you get over your shock, you kiss back. You're vaguely aware of newsies (especially Crutchie) whooping in the background.

You pull away, breathless. "Well, I certainly didn't expect that."

"Honestly, I didn't either."

Pulitzer also offers Jack a job as a political cartoonist, which he readily accepts - while also staying a newsie.

"So, what d'ya say we go out somewhere?" Jack asks later on, his arm around your shoulders. "You know, now that I've got money."

"You haven't drawn a single cartoon yet, Kelly," you say, though you're laughing. "Slow down. Let's go out and do something that's free."

"Like what?"

"Like..." You think for a moment. "A walk."

He scoffs jokingly. "Boring."

"Oh, hush. It could be fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

////

"So, you won, did you?" your dad asks casually, reading a newspaper. You stop walking towards the door, panic-stricken as you hope you didn't hear what you think you just heard. Your dad chuckles, seeing your expression. "You think I didn't know?"

"Well... yeah," you reply, slightly relieved that he doesn't seem mad.

"Well, you were wrong," he replies, still joking. "I figured you would go and try to help. Can't say I'm disappointed, either."

"So you're not mad?" you ask unsurely.

He sighs. "No, I'm not mad. I'm actually pretty happy. Those boys may be annoying, but it was pretty satisfying seeing Pulitzer knocked down a peg."

"Oh," you reply, surprised by his stance on the matter.

"My stance on Jack Kelly is still the same, though," he adds.

A smile grows on your face. "Well, how would you feel if I told you Pulitzer gave him a job as a cartoonist?" He hums in response, and you continue, "And that income would add to what he makes as a newsie, which is going to increase because of the strike."

He looks up at you, thinks for a moment, then says, "Alright, fine, I'll consider it."

"Little bit too late for that, but thanks."

"Too late? What do you mean too late?"

But you've already left to go meet up with Jack.