Chapter One: Gold-Tipped

Criss-Cross looked up as the newcomer walked in. A slight smirk spread across her face as she set down her bowl of hot vegetable stew and stood up. She always enjoyed taking the newbies on a tour. It was fun. She'd been the leader of the Colorado Springs Lodging House since it had opened, and she was proud to say that she had never left a tenant unhelped. As she opened her mouth to speak, Criss-Cross noticed something different about the newcomer. For a second, it had looked like one of her old friends from New York.

It can't be..., she thought, can it? Nah. Dere's no way! Her thoughts were confident, but a shadow of doubt had crept into her mind, just as it always did when she thought about New York.

"Hey dere. Welcome ta da Coloradah Springs Lodgin' House," she said, her tone confident and challenging, just like it always was.

She walked over to the stranger and stood like a powerful queen before a peasant. Spitting into her palm, she extended it toward the stranger and continued"I'se Criss-Cross. Criss-Cross Kat Conlon. Dat's me full name. D'ough everyone 'round heah jus' calls me Criss-Cross. Or CC if deys can' 'membah Criss-Cross. I'se da leadah a dis steam gratin'. Who's you?"

The stranger had kept their head down as she'd talked, and had never taken her extended hand. His actions were starting to stir up Criss-Cross's bad temper. Especially since a sly smile had spread over his face when she'd said her name. Criss-Cross had already indefinitely decided that the person was a boy, and that she didn't like him much.

"Conlon?" he asked, his voice agreeing with Criss-Cross's decision that he was a boy.

"Yeah. You'se got a problem wit' it?" she challenged him. Her temper was rising, and as she finally pulled her hand back to her side, she balled it into a fist and clenched it tight.

"Nah. Only dat ya changed yer name. Ain't dat true, Criss-Cross Katherine Watson?" his voice asked, slyly in a New York accent. Criss-Cross's eyes drew wide and she backed up a step, nearly falling over. It had been a long time since anyone had called her by her old initials. It's been near a year since I've heard that... she thought. She was growing more and more bewildered.

"What da yas want?" Criss-Cross asked, slowly backing towards the counter where she'd left her slingshot.

"Only ta bring ya dis." The stranger pulled something from underneath his jacket that Criss-Cross had not seen in years. It was a gold-tipped cane, and it had once belonged to her brother, Spot Conlon, the fearless leader of Brooklyn.

Criss-Cross gasped, and the last thing she felt before her world went totally black, was the face of Specs, a Manhattan newsie she had befriended when she'd last been in New York.

A/N: Yeah. It's kinda a lame first chapter. But oh well. You'll see. I'm just trying to get out the main plot. After I'm finished writing it, then I'll come back and fix things and add in details to make them better.