A/N:So, here I am again, venting my odd obsession with Newsies. This time Racetrack is my victim. Poor boy. Anyway, I actually managed to write the entire story before I posted anything so now all that's left is for you to read it. Please, let me know if you feel anyone is OOC, Flash is too much of a Mary-Sue, or you have any problems with the plot, information, etc. and I'll do my best to fix it. Just to warn you, it starts off a little slow and the plot doesn't actually make an appearance for some time as I had to set up the characters and their relationships with one another. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own and that includes any ideas or phrases you may have seen in other stories by other authors. Terribly sorry if I borrowed anything from you, say the word and I'll give you credit.

Gone in a Flash

By: Blue Skies Rusty

Chapter One

"Anythin' good?" Flash ungracefully plopped down between Racetrack and Jack, pulling one of her own papes from her stack and beginning to skim over the articles. Unfortunately, news was once again slow after the newsboys strike.

"Same as always," muttered Jack, brows furrowed slightly.

"Unless ya think it's news that the mayor's dog was run ovah by a carriage," threw in Racetrack as he flipped a page.

"Looks like anothah slow day." Flash sighed and shook her head slightly.

"Yeah, well," said Cowboy as he dropped to the ground and collected his papes. "The soonah ya start, The soonah it'll be ovah."

Racetrack and Flash both made noises of agreement as the leader of the Manhattan newsies wandered off. He caught sight of a new face entering the rusting metal gates and immediately made his way over. Perhaps the day wouldn't be so slow after all. New kids usually brought an interesting twist to things.

"Hmm," Racetrack said, catching Flash's attention. Hm's were always a promising sound when a newsie was scanning the headlines. "A rabid dog was wonderin' 'round the city. Must'a drank the watah in Brooklyn."

Flash rolled her eyes and turned to Race. "Lay off the wise cracks 'bout Brooklyn and Spot Conlon, would ya?"

Racetrack lowered his pape and smirked at her. "Why? Just 'cause yoah sweet on him…"

Her lip curled as she glared at him. "I am not sweet on him! I just gotta lotta respect for 'im, is all."

"Shoah, shoah." Racetrack was still grinning as he put his cigar up to his mouth. "I believe ya." His tone contradicted his words and made Flash glare harder.

"What d'you 'spose Spot would say if heard ya was talkin' 'bout Brooklyn that way?" As she spoke she casually picked up her paper and began leafing through it again.

"Ah, C'mon, Flash!" He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt and worry. "You'se know I was just jokin'."

"Shoah, shoah. I believe ya," she said, throwing his words back at him.

He adopted a casual air of his own as he returned to his newspaper. "'Sides," he said slowly, catching her attention. Racetrack Higgins rarely spoke slowly. "You'd stick up foah me if he tried anythin'."

Flash snorted and dropped her paper. "If anythin' I'd help 'im throw ya off the bridge."

Now it was Race's turn to snort. "Yeah, okay." He shook his head, puffed his cigar and continued to read his pape. Flash, normally would have said something about his tone of voice and the way he was acting-- his ribbing was a harsher than usual-- but today she was willing to let it slide with a mere shake of her own head. Racetrack, on the other hand was far from done with the conversation.

"So, how was Ha'lem?" He sounded too nonchalant and uninterested to be just asking. Flash could almost hear the snide comment before it even left his lips. "You certainly like shackin' up with T-Bone and his boys, don't ya?"

She glared at him. "What exactly d'you mean by that." She knew exactly what he meant. Flash was neither young nor innocent and the implication was not lost on her.

As the two of them began a rather heated discussion about Flash's virtue, the other Manhattan newsies completely ignored them. Over the years they had all learned it was usually best to just let the two go at it. It was the same thing every morning. They'd sit and peruse their papes together and make a few wise cracks which would quickly escalate into a playful argument. Normally it involved a lot of sarcasm and occasionally. raised voices-- though it was not to be said either of them ever spoke in what could be considered a quiet voice. Once in a while their arguments would take a turn for the worse and spiral out of control into huge blow-out. These, however, only ever seemed to happen when Flash returned from one of her days-long trips to another borough, and sometimes even before.

Unfortunately for all parties in a three mile radius, Flash had just gotten home from Harlem the night before. They were overdue for fight. This, of course, meant much shouting on both parts and winces and grimaces from all the surrounding newsies who had to try and block it out.

"What's yoah name, kid," asked Jack Kelly as he stopped the young man who had just gotten into the back of the line.

The boy, probably about fifteen or sixteen, eyed him for a moment. "Lucas," he answered slowly.

Shouldering his stack of papes, Jack spit in his hand and held it out to the new kid. "Name's Jack. Jack Kelly, but some'a the guys call me Cowboy."

After a moment's hesitation-- in which, the boy tried to discern whether this tall, blonde newsie in front of him really was the Jack Kelly-- Lucas spit in his own hand and shook with Jack. The grimace that graced his face didn't slip by Jack. As they shook, the Manhattan newsie glanced over the boy and took him in. Average height and build, untrusting but curious brown eyes, light brown curls under a chocolate cabbie hat, semi-clean clothes, and soft hands. He was not a kid accustomed to life on the street. In fact, he reminded Cowboy a lot of his selling partner David Jacobs, who was currently at the window with his brother, buying papes.

"Ya evah sell befoah," asked Jack, looking the kid over again and moving with him as the line inched forward. He already knew the answer even before Lucas shook his head. "A'right well that's no problem, we'll set ya up with a sellin' partnah 'til you'se get the hang'a it."

For a moment he looked like he was going to protest but then he seemed to think better of it. "Alright," he said at last, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging.. "I guess."

Jack smiled. "A'right. That's good ta heah." He turned and surveyed the newsies that were coming and going. "Now, I'd be yoah sellin' partnah but I'se already got one." As Jack spoke, Davey started walking towards them with Les in tow. "That's Davey me partnah and his little brothah, Les."

"Hi," greeted David as he came to stand beside Jack. "Nice to meet you." Without spitting into it, he proffered his hand and Lucas seemed relieved as he shook it.

"This heah's Lucas," explained Jack, speaking for the newest addition to the Manhattan newsies. "I was just 'bout ta find 'im a sellin' partnah, then we can go."

"Okay," shrugged Davey. "Who's it gonna be?"

Jack turned and looked at the surrounding newsies. "I was thinkin' Kid Blink." As he was about to call over the mentioned newsie, who was across the center talking to one of the younger newsies and Crutchy, a commotion broke out on the platform just below the window.

"YOU LOUSY, NO-GOOD, BUMMER!" Flash and Race were standing toe-to-toe and she was screaming in his face.

"YOAH CALLIN' ME A BUM?" He shouted back, arms flailing.

"Did I stutter?" Flash snapped.

There were a series of groans from the other newsies as they all turned their attention to Racetrack and Flash. "Here we go again," was muttered by several different people and Snipeshooter was even brave enough to tell them to lay off.

"PUT A LID ON IT!" Roared Racetrack.

"SHUT IT, SNIPES!" Flash had screamed at the same time. Then they turned back to each other and, arms flailing for emphasis, resumed their shouting match. With many eye-rolls and head shakes, the other Manhattan newsies proceeded to ignore them and continue with what they had been doing.

"On second thought," Jack said, watching them and grimacing at the shear volume of their raised voices. "Maybe I bettah pair ya up with Flash."

Davey's brows furrowed. "Are you sure that's such a good idea, Jack?" He had seen Kid Blink try and pull Flash away from Racetrack once, about three days after the strike. The memory of how she had 'defended' herself-- albeit, not at all fairly-- made him cringe even a month later.

Cowboy shrugged. "Yeah, why not? 'Less you wanna listen ta those two go at it all mornin'."

Seeing Jack's point, Davey gave a hesitant nod. "Good luck," he muttered as his selling partner walked over to the fighting duo.

"Which one's Flash," asked, Lucas, looking from one shouting newsie to the next. Worry was written all across his face and David got the distinct feeling the young man was wishing Jack had called Kid Blink over like he had originally planned.

"The girl," replied Les, before David got the chance to answer.

Lucas looked from Les to David. "The girl," he confirmed.

At that moment Jack had reached Racetrack and Flash and had said something to them. "WHAT?!" They screamed in unison as they both whirled on their leader, furious at having been interrupted.

Their voices were suddenly quieter and they couldn't be heard from across the center. Lucas and David watched as Flash spoke with Jack, flinging an arm out to indicate Racetrack. The Italian newsie promptly threw his hands up in a defensive gesture before pointing back at her. Turning, she placed her hands on her hips and was scowling at Racetrack as she spoke to him. With his cigar in hand, he pointed at her again, saying something which made her hands ball into fists at her sides.

"She doesn't look very friendly," observed Lucas as Cowboy waved his hands, settling the pair down slightly.

David glanced at Lucas briefly. "Don't worry, she's a lot nicer than she seems."

"Dey both are," corrected Crutchy as he hobbled by with his papes, Kid Blink beside him. "She got back from Ha'lem late last night and ya know what dat means." Kid Blink and Davey both nodded sagely.

Lucas furrowed his brow and Davey caught the look. He turned to the slightly younger man and explained. "Flash likes to roam around New York a lot; visit the other boroughs."

"'Change'a scenery,' she calls it," added Crutchy, helpfully.

"Yeah," agreed Davey. "We never know how long she'll be gone for. Usually it's just a couple days, but every time she comes home her and Race get into a huge fight."

"Bigger than usual, anyway," joked Blink.

"Do they fight a lot?" wondered Lucas.

"Nah," said Crutchy, smiling. "Dey gets along pretty good most'a da time. Shoah dey tease each othah and argue but we'se all do dat. But don't worry. By da end'a da day you'd nevah guess dey was eveah mad at each othah."

They were all quiet for a moment, watching as Racetrack picked up his stack of papes and walked away, muttering to himself. At the same time, Flash sat down on the wooden platform again, shaking her head and talking to Jack.

"Are they…" Lucas hesitated to ask but he didn't have to finish.

"Together?" Supplied Davey. He too had once wondered the same thing. He shared a glance with Blink and Crutchy before shaking his head. "No."

Kid Blink laughed. "The day those two get togethah is they day one of us newsies becomes a richie."

Crutchy and Davey both laughed along with him, sharing the inside joke. Lucas on the other, crinkled his brow and looked between the three of them. Crutchy clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, you'll get it soonah or latah." Then he hobbled off, enthusiastically telling Blink a story as they went.

"Lucas." Jack was striding up to him with Flash in tow. "This heah's Flash. She's gonna help ya sell taday." He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in front of him.

She was shorter than he had thought, but Lucas didn't know if she just seemed shorter because Cowboy was so tall. Her dirty, button-down shirt was loose and looked like it had once been light blue but was now gray from overuse and under washing. Her trousers were dark brown with patches on the knees and hems rolled up and frayed. It was clear they were far too large for her and the belt around her waist and black suspenders were both very much needed to keep them from slipping down. A faded and worn black cabbie hat was nestled on her head and slipping down to her eyebrows because it was slightly too big.

"Nice ta meet ya." Flash spat in her hand and held it out for Lucas to shake. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly not having expected a spit-shake from a girl.

"A pleasure," he muttered, after a moment. As he shook her hand, he noticed that her fingers were stained black from the ink and she had rough calluses.

She grinned, making her green eyes crinkle. "Looks like we got another walkin' mouth."

At the teasing look she sent Davey, he rolled his eyes. "Spot Conlon is the only one that ever calls me that," he defended.

"Now that just ain't true," she said, grinning wider. "T-Bone and his boys have taken a shine to the name."

"Oh, great," he muttered darkly.

Laughing she turned back to Lucas. "You educated?" He nodded, not quite sure how she could tell but she quickly told him. "Can tell by the way you talk. Real proper like. Hope they taught ya some big words. It'll help ya sell if ya use 'em."

"We bettah get goin'. C'mon boys." Jack began leading Davey and Les towards the gates. "See ya latah," he called over his shoulder, waving.

Flash waved back. "Anyway," she said. "Lesson numbah one. You'se gotta get heah earlier if ya wanna get out outta heah 'fore the aftahnoon edition." As she spoke she indicated the line. They were actually next in line-- the entire time he had been talking to the other newsies they had moved along with him as the line crawled forward-- and Lucas took it as a slight exaggeration. He nodded anyway.

"Next," called the elderly man behind the window.

"Twenty papers, please." The man looked at him funny at the use of manners but took the money and gave him the papes. "Thank you."

"Why'd ya only take twenty," asked Flash as she went down the steps with him.

"It's my first time selling," he replied. "And the headlines aren't that good."

She laughed. "Like Cowboy always says, 'headlines don't sell papes; newsies sell papes.' 'Member that." They walked through the gates and took a right. "So, who've ya met othah than Jack, Davey and Les?"

Thinking for a moment, Lucas shrugged. "I didn't catch their names. A guy with an eye-patch--"

"Kid Blink," she supplied. "We usually just call 'im Blink."

Lucas nodded, filing the information away. "And a gimp."

She shot him a dirty look but didn't comment on his choice of words. "Crutchy."

"Right," he said quietly, worried that he had offended her. They were quiet for a moment before he asked, "Where are we going?"

Flash smiled. "The mahket. It's Monday so it should be pretty busy. The rest'a the week ya can get some papes sold there but there are othah places ya can go. The boxin' ring outside Tibby's on Wednesdays, foah example. Saturdays you wanna go to Central Park."

Again he nodded quietly. There weren't too many people around as they walked quickly down the street. A few passersby here and there. They turned a corner and Lucas noticed that this new street was noticeably busier than the last one. There were people coming and going from a few shops but not enough for it to be considered a crowd.

"Well," she said, stopping and turning to him with that grin of hers. "Let's see what ya got."