AN: WOAH! I know. It's scary. I'm finally updating. *cower* doode, what's with that? Mais bien – its late, and I'm sick, and therefore I have no time for shoutouts – but I LOVE YOU ALL TO PIECES! Seriously. You all rock my knee socks. Enjoy J

*****

The stars were just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky when Queens invaded Brooklyn. It wasn't a hostile take over, no, far from it. They came armed with booze, cards and strict instructions not to violate the unnerving peace that had settled between the two boroughs some time before.

"Ya get in a brawl, and ya on ya own, boys." Nails had threatened that morning.

So here they were, gambling addictions in hand, and wary looks in their eyes. There were echoes of bloodshed as they tramped up the steps.

Spot Conlon stood in the front foyer, his face stone and barely a hint of heartbreak in his eyes. In the face of adversary, you've just gotta pull on a mask and do the best you can.

Nails halted his troops just inside the doors. The two leaders stood silently facing one another, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Almost the whole world seemed to pause, waiting with bated breath.

Waiting.

Waiting.

And then, almost simultaneously, their faces broke into grins; Nails took a swaggering step forward and Spot met him halfway.

"Welcome to Brooklyn, boys!" his voice reached every newsie in the room as if it were some unspoken signal, and the ice broke.  A warm wave of camaraderie swept over the Lodging House, chairs were pulled up, cards were shuffled, whiskey bottles uncorked, and the fun began.

Few seemed to notice when Spots' mask slipped for a moment as he fingered his slingshot. Heartbreak, heartache and all degrees of suspicion. For all his grins and spitshakes and outward welcoming, he didn't trust Nails father than he could throw him.

Because something must have made Lock come back, after all.

His thoughts were broken, however, as a single girl entered the room.

Isn't that - ?

*****

Lock's arm was heavy across her shoulders as he played cards one-handed. Feels more like a ball and chain every day. Key felt out of the loop sitting here with him; she was seen as little more than a prize to his long-lost friends from Queens. "Ghost" they all called him, referring back to a time when she had lost her best friend to them – the most miserable period of her life.

Well, almost the most miserable.

She couldn't keep her thoughts from straying in that familiar direction, no matter how wrong or forbidden or cruel it was. Wanting what you can't have, she mused, her lips twisting upwards into a self-deprecating smile, always wanting what you can't have.

And as her eyes fell upon the object of her affection, her heart broke just a little bit more. He was standing slightly to her left, his hair ever hanging in his eyes and looking as regal as she had ever seen him.

Don't catch his eye, Key. You know that you'll never be able to hold yourself back if you do.

She needn't have worried. He was staring past her, motionlessly staring at – another girl. A beautiful girl, brown hair, chocolate eyes, simply paused in the doorway.

She practically glows.

His eyes didn't move, his breath seemed to be caught in his throat.

Just when you think that it can't hurt any more …

A hot spark of pain coursed through her, starting somewhere in her chest and speeding swiftly throughout her entire body. Lock felt her shudder, saw the tears in her eyes, and as he turned to embrace her, worry written all over his countenance …

His face lit up and he jumped to his feet:

"Dreamer!"

The girl in the doorway raised her eyes to meet Locks' and her face broke out into a delighted smile. She leapt to meet him, arms outstretched, and Key knew immediately where she was from.

Neither noticed the girl standing behind them in the rain. Papers were everywhere, ink all over… but all they could do was watch each other. She couldn't tear her eyes away as he clasped her hand in his, water running down both their faces … and a smile … a smile she hadn't seen for weeks …

And now here she was again, that girl, the girl from the rainy day – that rainy day, she realized, was today. It's funny how time seems to fast-forward when there's hurting involved. Here she was, the girl he smiled for, wrapped up in his arms, eyes closed, the picture of perfection.

As Key watched, unable to tear her eyes away, Nails sauntered into the picture. His walk was the movement of a cat, waiting to pounce on his prey, a tightly coiled spring about to burst. He stood on the outskirts of their joyful reunion [it's only been a day], and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. His hand reached up slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, and grasped Dreamers' wrist. [that's too tight. he's holding too tight] Her eyes snapped open, deliciously slowly, and there was fear there. Even in slow motion, everything was a blur as she was jerked away from Lock [too tight] As he turned to face Nails, time sped up and Key could suddenly understand what was going on. She felt, rather than saw, Spot take a step forward and she knew that he was watching the scene with one hand on his cane as the boys faced each other. Nails was smirking with malicious victory, and Lock looked more lost and infuriated than she had ever seen him before.

Their eyes never left each other as Nails nodded, once, and his smirk grew. Locks' fist clenched, and his jaw muscles tensed as he glared back.

Slowly, deliberately, never once taking his eyes off Locks', Nails trailed the fingers of his right hand across Dreamers' cheek, down along her jaw line. As his hand gripped the back of her head, Key could see her wince, her eyes closed in miserable expectation. Nails gave Lock a full out malicious grin before mashing her lips to his in a ferocious kiss. As he pressed his mouth against hers, Key could see that there wasn't any fight in her. In fact, she seemed to wilt in his arms, her shoulders slumped, her arms slack at her sides. And when he finally released her, she cast her eyes to the ground ; the perfect subservient girlfriend.

That's what did it. The grin enraged him, the kiss infuriated him, but the fact that she couldn't even look at him afterwards pushed Lock over the edge. As his fist connected with Nails' jaw, Dreamer simply stepped back, waiting for her boyfriend to divide and conquer.

Key was too frozen with shock to do anything but watch as Nails responded to Locks' attack. It had been clear even before the fight began who was tougher; the outcome was already decided. His eyes were alight with bloodlust and he grinned almost maniacally as he began to rearrange Locks' face.

She felt Spot rush by her, cane out and itching for a fight, but she couldn't get her legs to move. All she could do was stare at the girl who leant against the wall across from her, the girl who met her eyes with shameful pleading.

All she could do was stare at the girl who wasn't alive enough to cry.

Somewhere beneath their locked eyes, Spot had come roaring into the fray. After some well placed clubs of his cane, Nails' boys succeeded in pulling him back.

The two leaders glared at each other, one with a bloody temple, the other with a bloody cane, and for one horrible minute it seemed that all hell was about to break loose. Spot was now the coiled spring, the warrior, the dangerous one. His voice was dripping with hatred as he growled;

"Get – Out."

At his words, Nails drew himself up to his full height, shaking off the hold of his boys. He leant forward slightly, and spat on Locks' bruised chest. Spot's knuckled where they clutched the cane went white. Don't start this now. You aren't ready. You'll lose. Nails reached out and jerked Dreamer to his side. He bowed slightly, and smirked one last time before sauntering to the door, Queens in tow.

They were gone before Spot exploded, his rage thundering through the entire lodging house. Grubbs and Mole whisked Lock up to the bunkroom out of his sight almost immediately before retreating themselves. No one was left downstairs to witness as he lost control, smashing his way through three chairs and part of the banister before calming down enough to notice her.

For Key was still frozen on the bench in the corner, her eyes fixed on a small stain of red on the floor. Her face was whiter than he had ever seen it and as he drew closer, struggling desperately to get his anger back into check, he saw that her eyes were blank.

Spot knelt down in front of her unseeing eyes, and her lips moved slightly.

"Dreamer," she whispered, "He used to say her name in his sleep."

*****

There was glass on the floor of the Queens warehouse the nest morning. The breeze flowing through the shattered window ruffled Carvers' hair as he knelt to pick up the brick that lay on the floor. Silently, he handed it to his leader.

Scrawled on a crumpled sheet of newsprint were the words:

This means war

*****

AN: okay, I've got time for a bad pirate joke before I must pass out on my keyboard – How do pirates give three cheers??

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Hip

Hip

A R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R!!

…yeah. I need more sleep. As always. Review, please … I will attempt to update soonish this time around!