Newsies Road Trip AU (nope, no creative title)

3 Hours Later

Note: This section heavily implies some...stuff.  Read at your own risk.

1:00 AM

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A weak fluorescent light filtered into the van from a nearby gas station, illuminating five exhausted faces. A series of indescribable noises emitted from the backseat and Davey clapped his hands over Crutchie's ears.

"What're you doin'?" Crutchie said wearily.

"Protecting your innocence."

"Shouldn't ya be doin' that to Les? He's younger, and if he finds out anythin' he shouldn't it'll be your problem."

"He's probably heard it before at this point. He'll be fine." A brief glimmer of a smile crossed his lips. "Besides, I doubt he could hear anything buried in all those bags."

A small hand emerged from the pile of bags, followed by the face of a young child. "I heard that just fine!" He scanned the group. "Hey, has anyone seen Spot and Race? They've been gone about twenty minutes, and I'm starting to get ideas."

Davey turned to face him but did not move his hands. "Surely you can get ideas without them."

Les grinned fiendishly. "Yes, yes I can." The noises reached a crescendo, and Jack turned toward Davey.

"How d'you open the glove compartment? I put somethin' in there earlier an' now would be a good time to get it back out."

"Oh, sure. You just push the little tan button and pull the handle. I would show you, but I'm occupied right now." He nodded towards Crutchie, who was making himself as comfortable as possible on the floor. "What're you getting out of there?"

Jack dramatically jiggled the handle to the glove compartment. "Oh, you'll see."

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1:05 AM

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Everyone was back in the van. Race and Spot had been retrieved from the back seat, soaked and blushing but otherwise unharmed, and Jack followed them, proudly brandishing a spray bottle. Davey glanced at them and, seemingly assured that the worst was over, released his hands from Crutchie's ears, while Crutchie squirmed thankfully, glad to be able to move around without pulling Davey behind him. Les pulled himself out of the pile of bags and grinned at Racetrack.

"Have fun?"

"Oh- uh, yeah." Inexplicably, Racetrack started giggling. "Yeah. It's real fun back there." He nudged Spot, who was wincing slightly. "Ain't it, Spot?"

"Yeah, fun." They glanced at each other uncomfortably for a few seconds. Jack tossed the spray bottle in the air, tried to catch it, and dropped it on the pavement.

"Well, I guess we should call it a night, then." There were several mutters of agreement, as well as just as many yawns. Jack climbed into the shotgun seat and pulled his hat over his face. "G'night, everyone."

"G'night, Jack."

"'Night."

"So nobody's usin' the back seat, then?"

"Romeo, no one here's gonna-"

"Ta sleep in. Gosh, getcha head outta the gutter!"

"'Night, everyone!"