" 'Bout time you decided to grace us wid yer presence." He stood up. "I'll meet ya outside." She stood there, assuming that he would just turn and leave. But he stared at her till she realized he wasn't in the mood to wait for her.

"But who's gonna get Jo Breakfest? I haven't even eatin' yet..."

"You shoulda thought of dat."

"I'll git 'er breakfast!" Said a giddy little girl, obviously from the second floor. Gwen hesitated, looking at her, then dashed to the door and down the stairs when she caught Spot's razor sharp eyes cutting into her. He sort of gave a little chuckle when she was gone. Still standing beside Jo's bed she gave him a playful hit as she giggled.

"Don't let anyone tell you youse not a gentlman." He looked back around at her, smiled and gently climbed over her back to the window. When he was on the fire escape he grabbed his papes which had been balanced on one side of the windowsill.

"Gotta teach dose new bloods der place, wouldn't have gottin where I am if I was a gentlman." Jo continued to smile. (She had been feeling better first thing in the morning.)

"I guess not."

"I'll come by lattah," he rolled his eyes " 'course wid dis goil dat may be midnight." And with that he headed down to meet Gwen at the front stoop. Though 'meet' isn't the word I'd use. He really just walked by expecting her to catch on and catch up. As she saw him walk by she ran to keep up.

Back upstairs...

As promised the little girl, Magic, brought Jo something to eat for breakfast.

"I feel so much better today, maybe I'll get up and walk around a bit. Though I do seem ta get sick aftah I eat." She looked down at the garbage Mrs. Butts called breakfast. 'It's no wonder I git sick aftah I eat.' Jo thought to herself as she played with her food, pushing it around the bowl with her spoon. She needed her strength however and knew it was this or nothing. Reluctantly she spooned it into her mouth swallowed quickly and washed it down with water, until the bowl was empty. The year in Buffalo had spoiled her, never would they feed their girls such slop their. When she was done Magic took the dirty dishes back down to the kitchen. Jo rolled over to sleep more, the whole time she'd been sick she always felt terrible after eating and would try to sleep through the pain. This morning however was quite different, the food had not sickened her the way it had been, but rather energized her like it used to. Feeling her strength slowly returning she sat up, having been in bed for so long it was difficult to do so. She leaned up against the wall next to the window and let her feet hang over the side of the bed. Sitting there she rested herself to prepare for her long walk to the bathroom. Other days she had gotten help from a few of the orphans downstairs, but today she would do it herself or die trying.

Gwen still walking hastily behind him, Spot slowed up when they were across the bridge. He checked to make sure she was still there and stopped for a moment, so she could catch her breath.

"We's almost dere." He was actually a little impressed that she was able to keep up, and didn't complain the entire way. Her supposedly close friendship with Jo, he thought, would make her less likely to take him seriously and more likely try to take advantage of him having seen him so vulnerable with Jo. Try as he might to see her as just some girl he had to admit to himself that there was something in her eyes that he found thrilling. And not knowing what that was, was making him feel vulnerable when alone with her. With this thought popping into his head he began walking again, heading straight for Medda's. Once there he knocked on the backstage door, not knowing Medda as well as Jack or Jo he thought it only polite. (Yes I know, SPOT thought it was polite? Well when it comes to beautiful older women he has to do more then be tough to impress them!) Toby answered the door and at once recognized Spot from the rally and ushered them in without a word. He silently motioned fo r them to stay there, and went to get Medda. Spot leaned up against the railing of the stage steps impatiently toying with his rather large stack of papers. Then Medda came down the stairs, at first only seeing Gwen standing by the door.

"And who are you?" She gestured to her with her feather fan. Spot then walked into view, and she smiled. "Vell, vell. Spot Conlon. Haven't you seen you around lately."

"Ya well, I'se got business in more den jist Manhattan." He smiled back but his impatience showed. He reached into his pocket and took out Jo's note. "Jo wanted me ta give ya dis. She's ben awfully sick lately." He looked over to Gwen as Medda read the note. Then she too looked over to her.

"You must be Gwen. I've heard a little about you." For some reason Medda seemed less excited to meet her as the girls back in Brooklyn. "Well," Medda began, her Swedish stage accent disintegrating, "I can't start you today, but if you'd like to come back tomorrow I could show you some of Jo's responsibilities." Gwen finally had a chance to speak, but didn't know what to say.

"Yes, I'd love to...I'll be here bright and early." Spot snickered at the thought of her getting up early enough to be in Manhattan bright and early. Gwen looked over to him with a sharp look, a look she hadn't dared give him before. She had put up with so much this morning and couldn't take it any longer. Medda just watched the two questioningly. From in the auditorium they could hear the crowd becoming louder and chanting her name.

"Vell, my people await." She smiled gave a fake bow fanning herself with her feather fan, much like she had done when she first met David and Les. Then she floated up the stairs and out onto the stage to appease her now cheering patrons. Gwen and Spot had watched her go, both in awe at how graceful and sought after she was. When she was back up there doing what she does best, Gwen looked back at Spot who's gaze remained on Medda a smirk beginning to form. She had to break the silence sometime.

"What am I supposed to do today if Medda doesn't need me?" Spot's straight face returned and looked over at her.

"I'll drop ya off at Central Pawk. You cen hang around dere til I'se ready ta go back ta Brooklyn."

"Why can't I just stay with you?" Gwen hadn't meant to let that thought be heard out loud. He looked over to her and laughed.

"You've put me behind enough taday, Ise gotta make a livin'. It's gonna be hawd enough ta sell all dese dis time a day, Ise don't need you slowin' me up." There was an awkward silence. "Come on I'll show youse central pawk." He headed out the door and through the streets to Central Park, doing his best to sell his papers on the way. Spot earned his position as the best of the best that day as he sold most of his papers by the time they reached the park.

"Heya Spot." Gwen was startled at how loud, close and unexpected the voice was. Spot didn't seem phased and turned to see Jack and a few other Newsies headed over.

"Heya Cowboy." They shook in the usual Newsie fashion. Jack quickly noticed the girl, clearly not Jo, by his side as did the others; Race, Mush and David.

"Hey Spot, who's da catch?" Race questioned, looking her over winking at her. Mush, let his eyes wander, David just blushed.

"Dis heah's Gwen, Angel's friend from Brooklyn. Ya mighta hoid heah tawk about her." Spot watched as the newsies continued to stare at her, almost making him jealous. Gwen was disgusted by the way they stared at her but figured she should try to look flattered. The last thing she needed was to alienate the people she had worked so hard to meet.

"Ya well Ise gotta git goin' gotta sell de rest of me papes sometime taday." Spot began to leave. "I'll be back aftah suppah, jist stay heah." He told Gwen as he headed towards the park exit without another word to the perplexed, yet too love stricken to care newsies.

********************************************************

Jo had managed to get to the bathroom, get cleaned up and changed all by herself. Granted she had had to rest a few times, she wasn't completely back to normal. Magic had brought her, her lunch and was just now getting her some supper. It was earlier then she usually eats but the younger ones usually eat early, before the working girls come back. Jo sat on her bed, her back against the wall and her feet towards her pillow, looking out the window wondering when Spot and Gwen would be back.

"Got you some supper Jo." Magic brought her the same bowl of slop that they had at nearly every meal, accompanied by a glass of water on a tray. "I was gonna make it special like Gwen always did but I couldnt find what she uses."

"Make it special? What do you mean special? What you bring me is the same as what Gwen always brought me." Jo looked over at Magic, sitting on Sammys bed.

"You know, special. She always adds somethin' from a little bottle, must make it taste bettah...or maybe it's medicine ta help ya git bettah?" Jo just looked at her like she was crazy, took a sip from the glass and set in on the table (trunk) next to her bed. Magic continued to rant. "I saw her put it in every time I watched her make you a meal. Must be somthin' from Buffalo though, she always takes it out of her pocket. Doesn't seem like a big bottle, she must like you a lot to let you use it so often." Jo began to form thoughts in her head, of what might be in the bottle. She tried to push them from her mind, Gwen wouldnt do anything to hurt her...but she did get sick after every meal...and Gwen had been getting her every meal since shed been sick...and now that Gwen wasn't serving her anymore she was getting better rather quickly.

"Forget it Magic. What you bring me tastes way better then what Gwen ever brought me." Jo tried to hide her fear as she looked over to Magic reassuringly. "Promise me somthin' Magic?" She had perked up after Jo's compliments.

"Anyting, Jo you know dat."

"Promise me dat only you will make me food while I'm still ill...just like you your food has the Magic touch. Seems it's the only thing getting' me bettah." Magic smiled proudly as Jo finished her supper. After she was done Magic yet again took the dirty dishes down to the kitchen. With all her strength Jo got herself up and down the stairs. The old clock at the bottom of the winding staircase read four thirty. Spot wouldn't be back for at least another six hours.

(Part seven is currently unfinished-stay tuned to my site for updates: http://josephina_jacobs.tripod.com/)

continued