Nickels (Spot Conlon x reader) {Completed}

2

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city." Davey explained to Spot. They were trying to convince Spot to join the strike. Without him, they knew none of the other newsies would join.

"Whos else 'ave yous talked too?" Spot asked atop his throne.

"Queens, Staten Island, everyone in 'hatten-"

"Whats yous gonna do about Nickels?" Spot asked.

Jack scoffed, "We's are gonna go after 'ere."

Spot's face slowly grew into a large smirk, "Yous scared of Nickels and da Bronx!" He started laughing, the other Brooklyn newsies joining in.

"We's not scared!" Jack said, his voice getting louder, "We's just dink it'd be easier to convince Nickels wit yous dere (there). Didn't yous do someting for 'im once?"

Spot grew quiet, and Jack could see him biting the inside of his cheek. Spot was very obviously lost in thought. "Yeahs." Spot nodded slowly. "I'se not sayin' I'm joinin', but I'll go talks to Nickels. Yous gots a better chance wit me dere. Plus, I'se wanna see 'ow 'e's doin'." Spot added in a murmur.

Davey cocked an eyebrow. What did Spot do for Nickels?

"Yeahs!" Jack cheered, "Tanks Spot." Spot climbed down from his throne and the two of them spit-shook.

Davey grimaced. Spit was disgusting.

"We better get going." Davey interrupted, "It'll take a long time to get to the Bronx."

Spot nodded. He gave some orders to his newsies, twirled his pimp cane, and said, "Let's go."

***

The three newsies crossed the 3rd Avenue bridge, and as soon as they did, they noticed a shadowy figure, leaning against a building.

"Wells, wells, wells," Nickels' hat was drawn low over his eyes. Strands of hair fell from it. "If it ain't Jack Kelly and da King a Brooklyn 'imself." Nickel pushed off the wall and mockingly bowed low.

"Nickels." Spot spit on his hand and reached it out to Nickels. Nickels spit-shook back. 

"'Ello." Jack nodded. Nickels just raised an eyebrow.

His gaze then turned to Davey, "Whos the newbie, Jackie? 'Elpin' wit da strike?"

"I'm Davey." Davey held out a hand to shake and Nickels went to spit on his own hand before Jack interrupted, "'E don't like dat."

Nickels looked Davey up and down, disapprovingly, "Well, dat's 'ow dings are done on da streets. Yous gonna hafta learn dem ifs yous wanna survive. Trust me, I'se know."

"But yous heard about da strike?" Jack tried to turn the subject back.

"Yeahs. Whos hasn't? But yous ain't gettin' to Emerson. I'ma make sure of dat."

"We have to see Emerson." Davey said, "We're going to try and get all the New York newsies together to protest the price raise. Aren't you against it?"

"Oh, yeahs." Nickels said, "I'ma against the price raise."

Jack and Davey paused before Davey spoke up again, "Then will you let us through?" He asked hopefully.

Nickels pretended to think about it, "Nah." He said, "I'm not gonna let anyone nears Emerson."

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres! Nickels, come 'ere!"

Nickels pov

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres!" He exclaimed, "Nickels, come 'ere!"

Spot dragged me to the other end of the building, far away from Jack and Davey and any other prying eyes.

"Okays, cut da crap, Y/n," Spot said, pushing my newsies cap off my head, letting my h/l hair tumble down my shoulders, "Whys won't yous let us through ta Emerson?!"

"What the hell, Spot?!" I whisper-shout, bending down to pick up my cap and shoving my hair back up in it, "Dey could've seen!"

"Oh, who cares?" Spot mocked, "Now why won't yous let us through?!" His voice was getting more aggressive.

"He owes me!" I practically shout. I caught myself and brought it down to a whisper, "He knows, Spot, he knows!"

His face blanched, "How?"

"Nots a big deal." I shook my head, "Buts I'se not lettin' yous through. Even if I'se hafta soak ya."

Spot rolled his eyes, "Like yous could soak me."

I rasied my eyebrows, "We's both know I could, Spot."

"Whatever." We stood in silence for a bit, arms crossed, staring the other down, before Spot spoke up, "I'se make yous a deal. How abouts, yous lets us through, and I don't tells anyone dat's yous a goil... But, if yous don't lets us through, den I'ma make sure all da newsies know."

I scoffed, "Dat ain't a deal! Dat's...dat's blackmail!" My lip curled up, "But I'se makes you a real deal instead."

"Whats?"

"I'se lets yous through in exchange for... your pimp cane." My hand grabbed the end of it.

Spot jerked it away, "No deal... Unless..." He smirked and I see a familiar glint in his eyes, "Yous let's us through, and I'se gives yous da pimp cane, but yous hafta give me a kiss."

My eyes narrowed, "Always a one track mind, Conlon." I said, shaking my head, "Tryin' ta get a goil in bed. How shameful. I'se thought yous mudda taught yous better." I knew it was a low blow, bringing up his mother, but I wanted the last word. I thought over his terms really quickly, "But, one kiss for yours 'ere cane... seems like I'ma gettin' da better end of it."

"Don't be so sure, dollface."

"On one condition," I said, "I'se hafta escort y'all to Emerson."

"Fair enough."

We spit shook and I grabbed Spot's pimp cane out of his belt loop. I smirked as I leaned on it, "Yous gots yourselves a deal."