A/N: Here is my entry for Delancey Week. This was a tough one..wow, was it tough. Anyways I hope you enjoy it. It's not my usual style of writing, but somehow this is what happened, so I ran with it. Enjoy and let me know what you think (in review form of course)! Thanks so much!

"We'll play again tomorrow, Cowboy."

Everyday started the same way for Oscar and Morris Delancey.

Everyday the brothers would leave the small, two-room apartment they shared with their uncle and make their way to work. It was an easy job, working for the New York World. It was a boring job, but the brothers made their own excitement.

Everyday they would show up outside the gates of the World Distribution Center, pushing and shoving their way through the endless sea of newsies gathered in front.

Everyday, Oscar and Morris would choose a boy to harass. Sometimes they would take turns throwing an unsuspecting young newsie to the ground; sometimes it was a combined effort. The younger the boy, the better.

Everyday, Jack Kelly would play hero and run to the aid of his small friend. A fight between the older Delancey brothers and Jack Kelly and his band of newsies was inevitable. It was an everyday occurrence.

Everyday the Cowboy and his gang of ruff and tumble street rats would win.

Everyday one of the Delancey boys would say the same thing.

"We'll play again tomorrow, Cowboy."

Everyday they wondered how such a ragtag band of boys and their leader could manage to ruin their mornings. It was the same routine day in and day out. Sometimes they wondered why they felt the need to attack these boys, these children. Sometimes they wondered why they bothered at all.

Everyday they wondered if Jack and his army of newsies knew just exactly whom they were dealing with. The Delancey boys liked to make it known that they were connected to the dark, dirty New York underground world. A world where goons and gangs ruled. Oscar and Morris knew people. People who could make the lives of the annoying paper carriers a living hell if they chose.

"We'll play again tomorrow, Cowboy."

Everyday the brothers hoped and prayed the large pack of headline hawkers would not find out that the Delancey boys were not the streetwise, connected thugs they made themselves out to be, or wished they were. In fact, they knew little of the rough life that could be lead in the harsh streets of the city.

Everyday they were beat by a young man who was admired by all around him. The Cowboy looked out for everyone, and in turn everyone looked out for him.

Everyday Oscar and Morris told themselves they didn't need someone to look out for them. They had each other, and when the mood struck him, their uncle. The brothers would never admit out loud that they wished someone would look out for their well being the way Jack did for his crew.

Everyday Oscar silently wondered if Morris knew how envious he was of the life hardened but carefree newsies. Morris silently pondered the same thing.

"We'll play again tomorrow, Cowboy."

Everyday the imitation thugs exchanged nasty words and hurtful blows with the newsies.

Everyday they wished they were instead exchanging playful banter and friendly arm punches with them.

Everyday the Delancey's pretended they were alright with the lives they had chosen to lead. They pretended it was truly fun to torment these younger boys, when in actuality it was the younger boys who tormented them. The newsies would never know.

"We'll play again tomorrow, Cowboy."

Everyday one of the Delancey boys would say the same thing, and everyday they wished they could really mean it.

The End