"For she's a jolly good fe-ell-low! Which nobody can deny!" Specs, Jack, Skittery, and Dutchy, the tallest of the newies dropped her on the nearest bed.

"Hey! Watch me bruises!" Porter yelped. "Ya shouldn't have!" She added, teasing.

"Ya can say dat again. Boy, yer heavy!" said Jack. He was a little slow in ducking and the pillow caught him full in the face. This led to a full-fledged pillow fight.

Afterwards Porter allowed herself - 'against me betta judgment' - to be drawn into a poker game for the first time. "As long as I'se still a hero, nobody'll cheat me outta dat much." she explained.

"Me? Cheat?" Truth protested with the innocence of an angel. "I am as honest-"

"As dis ace up yer sleeve?" Snoddy finished, pulling it out.

"I can explain dat!" she retorted. "See, me fadda was trick shooter. He useta shoot at bottles, an' t'rough rings an' cards an t'ings. He was da best dere evah was." She said softly. "We traveled aroun' wit dis show. But dis odder guy in da act was jealous, cuz me fadda was so good. He rigged his gun, an' one night when me fadda was performin' it blew up. Before he died, da las t'ing he told me was ta always keep dis ace a spades for 'im cuz it was his favorite. He said he nevah shot t'rough it, but he always carried it, an' it brought 'im luck. It's da on'y t'ing I got a his anymore." A tear ran down her cheek, and she looked up sadly, then grinned. "Truth!"

Everyone who still had a pillow to hand threw it at her.

A very, red-faced Pickles, accompanied by Spot came up to Porter halfway through the game and tapped her on the shoulder. "Um, I'se heah from da guys in Brooklyn." He took a bite out of his endless pickle. "Cards'd be heah, too, but, um-" he glanced at Spot, and added hurriedly. "Anyways, um, we's sorry."

"Forget about it." Porter shook her head, more than a little embarrassed herself. "Da raid was sorta me fault, after all." As an afterthought, she added. "Ya can do one t'ing fer me, though. Tell Splitz ta take a dive in da river for me?" She'd remembered whose idea her own enforced swim had been. She saw Spot looking at her meaningfully, and followed him to the other room. "Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "Spitfire, odder den da fact dat I was mad as anyt'in at ya recently cuz I t'ought ya sold us out, I love ya. Ya me cousin. So what gave ya da idea dat I hated ya?"

She dropped her eyes. "Ya din't want anyone knowin' we was cousins. Ya said dat da foist day I joined in Brooklyn. An' I unnerstand dat. I mean it was one t'ing six yeahs ago when we was kids. Most people wouldn't want deir friends knowin' deir uncle married a black woman, so dat's aw right-"

"Porter Margaret Louise 'Spitfire' Conlon." he echoed both their words. "I happen ta know ya, an' youse da most stubborn, proud person I knows. If da guys had known we was cousins, dey'd'a treated ya like glass an' you'd'a hated it." He smirked. "At least until ya finally lost ya tempa an' decked one a dem. I had ta protect me newsies! So don't let me heah anymore about me hatin' ya, awright?" he added seriously.

She wriggled a little with embarrassment, smiled grudgingly, then laughed back, tweaked his nose and ran for the other room.

Porter sighed. The celebration was still going on early the next morning. Just before dawn, Crutchy had pulled her away from the others to watch the sunrise. It was a relief just to be friends again, but she still hoped . . . Don't be stupid. Dat's what caused all da trouble in da foist place. I wonda what he's t'inkin.

"It's beautiful, ain't it? Even betta den da sunset." Crutchy said. "Beginnin' somet'in, 'stead a endin' it."

Porter was a little hurt. Well what didja expect? Dat should teach ya ta be careful what ya wish for.

"Porter," Crutchy said quietly, all of the sudden. "Ya know what ya said before ya ran away?"

Startled she look away from the sunrise to study his face. He wore his 'serious' expression - the one that always made her heart ache - but he wasn't looking at her. "Yeah, I rememba."

Crutchy took a deep breath. "Did - didja mean it?"

She looked away from him, her face feeling hot, and silently blessed her dark skin; he couldn't see her blush. "Yeah, I meant it, but-" Her voice turned harsh. If this was an offer- "-I don't take charity from nobody, no matta what form."

"Neidder do I, but, well, ev'ybody needs somebody ta watch deir back, right? ta kick somebody in da shins for dem?"

She laughed at that. "Or smack somebody wit a crutch for dem?"

"Or tawk sense back inta dem."

"Or trust dem."

"Yeah. Well, I t'ought, if ya did dat for me, I could do it for you?"

They looked back at the same moment and smiled at each other, smiles that - after a few moments - became a kiss. As was only natural.

They returned downstairs when the sun was well and truly risen, and the party was beginning to die down. Kid Blink looked up from his poker game with Nickel, Mush, Race, Pounce, Spot, and Itey. "How's you an' ya goil doin', Crutchy?" he teased as usual.