I don't own Newsies or Jack Kelly or Katherine Plumber/Pulitzer. The only things that belong to me are my ideas, my computer, and my Newsies merchandise. Enjoy! :)

Jack's heart was pounding as he climbed the stairs up to the third floor. It somehow seemed much harder than climbing the fire escape. This, a world of padded staircases in apartment buildings and oil paintings on the walls of lobbies, wasn't a world he was used to. But it was Katherine's world. Or, she at least had one foot in it. And if it was a world with Katherine, he was pretty sure it couldn't be that bad.

The third floor had two apartments on it, and he experienced a moment of panic that he wouldn't be able to figure out which was hers. He certainly didn't want to be knocking on some random person's door. His heart stilled, however, when he saw the piece of paper sticking out from underneath one of the doors. Picking it up, Jack didn't recognize the hasty cursive—he had only seen her typed words before—but it was clear by the phrasing and grammar that the note was from Katherine.

It read: "The last time a boy dropped by to ask me on a walk, I never opened the door for him. Let's hope you have better luck."

Jack chuckled, imagining some unlucky soul standing at Katherine's door and getting rejected in such an unfortunate way. He folded the note up and stuck it into his pocket for safe keeping—when had he become so sentimental?—looking up at Katherine's door and rapping on the wood three times in rapid succession.

A couple of moments later, she was swinging the door open and smiling that breathtaking smile at him. He found himself grinning back, opening his mouth to say something sarcastic but then remembering that he was supposed to be a gentleman. "Miss Plumber?" There was no way he was calling her 'Miss Pulitzer.'

"Good morning, Mr. Kelly."

"Ah, I was just wonderin' if you'd like to come on a walk—"

"Stop."

Jack met Katherine's eyes with alarm. Was she… rejecting him? Had he ever been rejected by a girl in his life? He didn't think so… Well, did it even matter? This was Katherine. She did whatever she wanted and he didn't expect her to do anything else, but he'd just thought—

"Your attempts at suppressing your accent were too painful for me to listen to. I had to stop you." She smiled at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Let me grab my coat, and we'll go."

"Oh. Uh, okay." Jack could feel his heart as it began to beat again in his chest. "I'll just wait here, then."

"Don't be an idiot," Katherine said over her shoulder as she bustled away, skirts swishing, to find a jacket. "Come in and throw that apple core away."

Jack looked down at the apple core and then uncertainly up at the interior of Katherine's apartment. He moved slowly over the threshold and towards where he could see the kitchen. There was a garbage bin in the corner in which he deposited his apple core. Then he glanced around some more, unsure if it was appropriate to gawk at all of the stuff she had in here. One wall was covered with newspaper clippings, and his heart swelled a little at the picture of him and the other boys, along with her stunning article about the strike. A smile pulled at his lips as he scanned the articles, unable to make much sense of them but appreciating their worth anyways, as mementos to her if not anything else.

"Jack, are you—" Katherine came around the corner, fixing the pin holding her hair away from her face, and stopped when she saw him.

Jack grinned at her, pointing at the pinned articles. "Ace, did you clip all these?"

"Yes." She shuffled forward a few steps to stand beside him. Her closeness made him breathless. "It inspires me, you know? If I'm looking for ideas, I just look at all of these great articles that all of these great people have written, and I remember that I can do it, especially now that one of my own articles is up there." She chuckled sheepishly, glancing up at him. "Silly, huh?"

"No. Not silly." Jack didn't say anything else, because he couldn't think of the words for anything else he wanted to say, but Katherine still stared at him like the words that had just come out of his mouth were absolutely profound.

They were silent for a few moments, a comfortable silence that make Jack inexplicably pleased, as Jack examined the articles some more and Katherine studied his face.

"Well, all right then," she said finally, breaking the silence and tugging on his shirt sleeve. "We'd better be off then, Mr. Kelly. The day's not going to wait for us. It's a beautiful morning, and I'd rather not miss it."

Jack looked over at her and grinned. "Of course, Miss Plumber." Before he could even think, he offered her his arm. She smiled and looped her right hand through the crook of his elbow, bringing the left up to grip the right so he couldn't pull away. Then they were walking out the door, down the strange padded steps, past the oil paintings in the lobby, and onto the streets of the city. Jack had rarely ever felt so content.

Fluff, fluff, fluff.

I kind of really like the idea of Katherine having a wall of article clippings to inspire her. But I don't know how it would work in 1899... Did they have cork board? I'm gonna leave it kind of open-ended because I'm really not sure.

Also, I don't know if Jack can read or not... I'm assuming that most newsboys during that time period couldn't read that well, because none of them really went to school, but like, they have to read the headlines in order to hawk them, right?

Reviews and feedback are much appreciated! :)