Author's Note: Oh. My. Newsie. This is the last chapter! *wipes away a tear* Well, I'd like to thank WolfxAngel, Readergirl21, analogheart828, Smiley94 and Mids-all-the-way (where have you gone?!?! ha ha), GlowingGreenEyes, huffle-bibin (Mush is standing shirtless, clutching a tray of brownies, hoping you feel better, and, oh yes, also squeeing over you :D) and, last, but most definately not least, CES5410 (your reviews always made me smile and I could always count on one! I'm so glad you sqweed over my last chapter! My life's work is done! ha ha). Thank you Thank you Thank you!

Disclaimer: I created Camille, Alicia, and Gill, the rest belongs to Disney

Camille stood, grimacing in the pack of dancing high school students. She hated dances, absolutely abhorred them. Apparently she had been deprived of the dancing gene, handicapping her in the area of fluid motion. Not only that, but public displays of affection were amped up due to the fact that the couples seemed to forget that, although there are only strobe lights on, there is still enough light to see them grinding against one another and shoving their tongues down each others throats. Gross. Camille hurried away from a particular couple that was quickly reaching that level and spied Spot jumping about giddily, pretending to be a woodland faerie, Blink chasing after him to make sure he didn't bring any harm upon himself or others. It was a rather odd sight to see the King of Brooklyn, cane in hand, frolicking about a black lighted area, with Kid Blink, sweet, semi-blind newsie of Manhattan, awkwardly stalking after him. Luckily none of the dancers noticed, much too into their own dancing skills to care.

Gill and Davey were sitting on fold out chairs that had been placed around the decorated gymnasium, discussing mathematical equations, finding the dance to be an utter waste of time. Mush, Racetrack, and Alicia were performing a rather nifty little tap number together, Snitch hovering nervously about them, glancing around in concern of the numerous people around.

Camille slunk her way out of the crowd, eyes peeled for something that glowed without the help of an extension cord. Seeing nothing and needing some quiet, she jimmied the lock of a room located off of the gym, filled with ping-pong tables for the Racquet Sports gym class. She leaned against one of the tables, breathing deeply and trying to think of the most logical place that a glowing object pertaining to New York would be. The history department seemed the most likely choice, and she began brainstorming possible areas that contained New Yorkish items.

Alicia's voice came slicing through her thoughts. "Dude! Great idea! The only thing that could make that dance better is some intense ping-pong playing…and maybe some pickles…but ping-pong will do! Who wants to be on my side?" she asked of the three boys that had followed her into the previously silent room.

Spot pushed his way through Mush and Racetrack, quickly followed by an out-of-breath Blink. "I wanna be on Mommy's team," he announced, holding his hand high in the air to be seen.

Camille looked around at her friends incredulously, "No, we're not playing ping-pong; we need to find a way to send you guys back."

"Sometimes there're glow-in-the-dark ping-pong balls," Alicia pointed out in excitement.

Camille gave her a dead-pan look. "Do they have the ability to transport people to 1899?" she asked sarcastically.

Thinking for a minute about the prospect, Alicia finally said, "No…"

"Then we're not going to play with glowing balls!" Camille yelled in frustration. No one was taking the situation seriously; did they not realize the possible consequences?

Racetrack stepped forward, "Whoa, cool it, Chip."

"Do not tell me to 'cool it' Racetrack Cornelius Higgins!" Camille yelled, then added satirically, "Unless you've somehow found out how to get back to New York." Race hung his head, hating to be scolded, by a girl his age of all people.

Camille stormed from the room, into a deserted hallway of the school. It was the art corridor, which contained the many works the artists of Houlton High produced. She strolled along, admiring paintings, breathing deeply, and trying to calm herself down. Spot sped toward her. "Whadda we'se lookin' for Mommy?" he asked sweetly.

She smiled over at him. It was hard pretending to be a mother when you had to look up into the 'child's' eyes. Those gorgeous eyes. And adorable nose…and lips. Oh god, Camille thought. I've got it bad for a boy who thinks I'm his mother! And then she stopped. It was the first time she had openly and clearly admitted what she felt for the leader of Brooklyn, and for some reason it sent her heart fluttering. Idiot! she screamed to herself. He thinks you're his mother! Plus you have to send him back over an hundred years into the past!

"Mommy?" Spot repeated.

"Oh, right, um, Spot, we're looking for something that's glowing," she explained.

"Oh! Like that?" Spot pointed ahead of him to a painting on the wall. Camille glanced up and did a double take, staring in awe at the painted Manhattan scenery shining brightly with an unnatural gleam.

"Yes, Spot, just like that," Camille said in hushed tones. "Now, run back and get, er, Daddy and the others; tell Alicia to get Davey, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?"

"Of course!" Spot smiled as he sprinted back to the dance, happy to make his mother happy.

Camille stepped closer to the picture. It was a beautiful scene of a cobble stone street complete with carriages and tiny newsies of its own. Brick buildings dominated the landscape and a river could be seen in the background. As her hand stretched out toward it, a loud shout from the end of the corridor sounded, "No!"

She turned to see Blink, Mush, Racetrack, Snitch, and Spot dashing her way. "What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Don't touch it," Race panted.

"Okay…"

"It's how we'se got here," Blink explained.

Race chuckled, "Bone-head heah is the one that touched the foist item." Blink blushed as Mush punched him good-naturedly.

Camille smiled, an ache slowly making its way to her chest. Don't cry! she scolded herself. "Well, maybe we should start saying…good-bye," she suggested chokingly.

A quiet took over the hallway as they stared at each other, reality settling in upon them. The boys were going back, and never returning. "Good-bye?" Spot whimpered.

Camille could feel the tears coming. "Yes, Spot. You and Daddy are going to go on a fun trip for a while," she lied expertly.

Spot furrowed his brows. "Ain't ya comin' with us?"

Camille shook her head. "No Spot, I can't."

"Then I'se'll stay heah with ya," Spot declared hopefully.

Camille sniffed, "You have to go with Daddy, Spot."

Spot wailed. "But I wanna stay with ya Mommy!" he cried out, grasping her in a hug laying his head on her shoulder.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms around him, "I wish you could," she whispered truthfully. She knew getting attached was going to lead to problems, so how did she end up becoming so close to these boys in a mere week? And why did the one she wanted only recognize her as his mother? "Mommy's going to say good-bye to Daddy now." Spot reluctantly let her go and walked dejectedly over to Mush, who slung a comforting arm around the boy.

Blink stepped forward, trying to grin brilliantly. They hugged, then stepped apart from each other. "What ya gonna do without a husband?" he joked. "You'se gonna be a free woman." They laughed and Racetrack came forward.

His hat was in his hands. "Well, Chip, its gonna be different without seein' ya everyday," he commented.

"Just give me a hug Race," Camille laughed, enveloping the gambling man.

"A'right, a'right," he relented, returning the gesture with vigor. Then he reached into his pocket and took out a tattered deck of cards held together with a rubber band. "It's gonna get borin' without us, so I'se want ya ta have me lucky deck. Alicia said you'se was a mastah pokah playah, and, well, don' tell 'er I said so, but she needs the practice. Teach 'er well," he instructed.

The tears the girl had been holding back dripped from her eyes. "Oh Race!" and she caught him up in another hug, accepting the deck graciously, trying not to bend the already dog-eared edges.

Snitch was next in the line. He was bashful and mumbled, awkwardly returning the embrace Camille forced upon him. In a sudden surge of daring he twirled her around like he had done during his sugar rush, making Camille giggle, a sound she had practically never uttered, and cry even more.

Mush swept her up in a rib crushing bear-hug, not wanting to let go of his new friend. "Well, I'se certainly won't forget ya, what with that kiss ya laid on me," he grinned.

"I won't forget you either, Mush," she replied, giving him a cute peck on the cheek, causing a pink to flush into the boy's face.

No one noticed how close they had huddled around the painting until Alicia's strangled shout of "we're coming" erupted from down the hallway.

Alicia, Davey, and Gill came flooding down the hall, Gill successfully halting, Alicia and Davey losing balance and pitching forward, crashing into the group. The result was a domino-like proceeding, right up to Mush, who was launched into the painting.

After Gill was able to regain sight from the abrupt flash of light, she stared at the vacant space before her, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "Oh, dear…"

"Why do ya always have ta be on top?" Spot smirked from underneath Camille. He rolled, pinning her purposefully below him, and, without warning, kissed her soundly, his tongue dancing around her lips, making her gasp, surrendering her mouth unintentionally to the boy on top of her.

He pulled away with a grin that she slapped off his face. "How dare you kiss me!" Then she pulled him close in a hug. "But you're back to normal! I loved you as a child, but pretending to be your mom was getting pretty old."

"Yeah, yeah, you'se is strangling me!" he mildly protested, then began kissing her face.

Camille chuckled, "Spot! Stop!" But really, she wouldn't have minded if he continued, which he did, smirking into the crook of her neck.

A scuffling next to their heads cut short their newly found joy as the two looked around. Racetrack, Davey, Mush, Alicia, and Blink, along with Spot and Camille were strewn about a dark, moon-lit street made of cobble stone. A flame lit lamp post stood on the nearest corner, illuminating a few of the store fronts and a shoe-shine station. Camille's face fell, dread swiftly taking over her cheeriness.

A stray newspaper blew smack into Kid Blink's face. He seized it, after squealing in surprise, searching the front page, and letting out an excited yelp. "Boys! We'se back!"

Alicia and Camille met each other's eyes, fear growing in each pair. Back? Back where? If they were back, then what were Camille and Alicia doing with them. That wasn't part of the plan! No, Camille and Alicia were only supposed to help the newsies on their way, not actually continue on the way with them!

Alicia, who had landed, sprawled out, next to Blink and Racetrack ripped the paper from the patched newsie's hands, scanning the front page as well. Her mouth formed an "o" and she dropped the paper. It gently floated Camille's direction.

Rapidly aware of the comfortable, yet wrong she reminded herself, weight of Spot on top of her, she shoved him off and snatched the paper up. Spot complained under his breath, clearly back to the cocky, self-absorbed leader that he was. There, under the paper's name, was the date. Camille choked on words that she didn't know to say. The headline anounced the end of the Newsboy Strike. The strike that had taken place in...

1899.

Author's Note: So ends the Newsie's adventure of present day Wisconsin. I'm not sure if I'll write a sequel to this story or not about what the girls do or anything like that. Maybe sometime if I feel like it or feel inspired I'll continue on...It wouldn't be for a while though, considering school is piling on the homework and I've got a few other stories I'm supposed to work on :( I'd just like to say thanks one last time to all of you! Your reviews are what helped me continue on with the story instead of breaking down into a blubbering pile of reviewless tears ha ha!