Bedroom Games
Author Note: Uh…what can I say, I write too much. Actually this is an old fic I haven't worked on in a while, but finally got inspiration to do it. I hate to contribute to the millions of Spot fics out there, but he seemed like the perfect character to put in this situation. Don't let the title fool you! This fic is *not* dirty! It has some violence and other stuff ((don't wanna give it away)) in it to make it PG-13. So, that's all. Enjoy!
The cold wind blew over the gravestones. Ben Conlon shivered. Not necessarily from the cold, but at the thought of who was lying in the ground below him. Still. Quiet. Not a word was spoken by her, not even in life……
Spot Conlon was on patrol of his territory. Usually his newsies would go about watching over it, but there had been problems with a new gang. They'd tried to take over Brooklyn territory about a month earlier. Spot's gang had been on the edge ever since especially him.
The ruckus on the street was interrupted with a showcase of entertainment. A girl came tearing through the crowd. She wasn't watching where she was going and was headed in front of a wagon traveling by. Spot's attention was caught by what was pursuing her - two men. They were shouting out profanity and running after the girl. That's when he saw the wagon coming near.
In a matter of seconds, Spot found himself on the ground with the girl. He recovered his bearings first, going to help the girl up.
"Are you okay?"
The girl only pushed him away, grunting. The two men came storming up to them. "What did I tell you I was gonna do to you if you tried to escape?!" the first man yelled, jerking the girl to her feet.
"Ye never suppose ta do that, lassie" the second man - who was Scottish - said coldly, wrapping his arms around her waist. She started to wiggle from his grasp. "Stop it now!"
The girl was jerking furiously to get away and grunting loudly. No words came from her mouth. Spot stood there in utter shock. He knew it wasn't any of his business, but to treat this poor girl like that - it made him angry.
"Hey, hey! Whatcha doin' ta her?!" he shouted, breaking in on the action.
The two men glared at him. "None a ye business, slug!"
The girl was now gasping for air, still trying to get away from the man's arms. She was trying so hard, she was hurting herself.
"Why the heck you treatin' her like doit!" Spot asked, hand on cane…ready for battle.
"She's dumb" the first man replied.
Dumb? Spot shock his head. She didn't look 'dumb', but he wasn't sure what they meant by that. The first man finally slapped her. Spot's eyes turned gray as the gold tip of a cane connected with the man's temple. Spot fought to free the girl. He succeeded.
He grabbed the girl's wrist and ran into the closest alleyway. He was pulling her along when she tripped over some boxes. She fell hard on her knee. It started to bleed. Spot stopped, sighing in frustration. The girl was tearing up now.
"Let me see." He bent down next to her. The girl glared at him with glassy eyes. When he tried to touch her knee, she moved away hurriedly. "Don't be scared. I won't hoit you."
She glared at him, suspiciously. It was hard to believe, but the girl let him look at her knee. She hesitated though. "It looks bad, but we'll get you fixed up." All she did was stare. Spot cracked a smile at her blank expression. "Whatcha name?" Staring…she didn't respond. "You can tell me yer name. It's okay. Look, I'll tell you mine. I'm Spot Conlon, leader a the Brooklyn newsies." No response. "You nevah hoid a Brooklyn? Do you know where ya at?" This was getting to be old. Spot slapped his hand on his leg. "Girl, why won't you talk?! Talk, fer crip sake!"
The girl backed away again at his anger coming out. He noticed this and calm down. "I'm sorry. I jist wish you would say something." She started gesturing with her right hand. Spot watched, but didn't understand. "Wha' the heck are you doin'?"
The girl touched her throat then did another hand gesture. Spot was totally confused by now. "I ain't heah ta play games. I saved you from dat wagon and who evah dose men were, but I got places ta go. Bye." He started to walk away. The girl grunted, grabbing onto his wrist. "WHAT?!" She started gesturing again this time it was more like surrads.
She pointed to her eye. Spot played along. "Eye. Okay, what about your eye?" She waved her hands over each other then covered her mouth. Spot scratched his head trying to figure this puzzle out. Finally, it struck him. "I…can't…talk?" He looked at her. "You can't talk?" The girl slumped her shoulders, nodding sadly.
Spot turned flush from embarrassment. He bent down in front of her again. "I'm sorry." She hung her head. "I'm guessing you don't got a place ta stay?" She nodded. "You can come wit me den. Come on." He helped her up, leading her to the Brooklyn lodging house the back way.
Spot lead the girl into the Brooklyn lodging house. It was practically empty, not even the house keeper was in. Spot knew Baxter - the house keeper - wouldn't mind the girl staying there as long as she keep out of the way. He stopped and walked behind the desk in the lobby. The girl watched him curiously. He emerged with a pen and note paper.
"Can you write?" he asked, holding the pen in the air like he was writing.
The girl sighed, slumping her shoulders. She did something with her hands which was actually sign language.
"Can you?"
The girl took the paper and pen, and wrote something down. She handed it back to Spot. The paper said a simple, "Yes."
Spot almost wanted to laugh. "Whatcha name, den?"
The girl wrote on the paper again, and handed it back. "Kathryn. Dat's a pretty name. So…Kathryn, follow me upstairs."
She stared at him oddly, making another sign with her hands. Spot groaned. This was already starting to irritate him. He became irritated very easily. Almost all his life, he'd been like that. That's one reason he became the Brooklyn leader…his flaring temper.
"Since you sayin' heah, don't think it'd be wise to sleep in the bunkroom with the boys. So you'll sleep in my room" Spot said, leading Kathryn to a small door near the end of the bunkroom. He opened it, revealing a small space in the wall. It was about the size of a large, narrow closet with only a bunk bed, crate, and night stand where a lamp sat. There were no windows.
"You can take the bottom. The top bunk is mine." Kathryn nodded in agreement. "Like I was sayin' about the boys, they're very frisky. If any of 'em give you trouble, come to me. I wouldn't suggest in trusting any of them." Kathryn nodded again.
"Look heah, Kathryn, I know you couldn't be a newsie - dat requires a voice." She appeared slightly taken aback by the comment, but understood. "You think you can do chores 'round heah? It'd give Baxter a break and maybe they'll be your pay back for staying heah." Kathryn smiled a little, bobbing her head.
"Okay. C'mon…" Spot directed her out the room to the main bunkroom. "We'll wait fer the boys downstairs in the dining hall. It's almost dinner time."
In the small dining hall, were two long tables. Some boys had already filtered in from a hard days work. Kathryn was surprised at how big they were. The boys looked more like muscled giants to her. Spot lead her over to the head of the table where he sat. The boys stared at Kathryn like she was a piece of meat ready for the dog's eating. Kathryn hung her head low from shame mostly, not wanting to see their faces.
Spot looked over his band of newsies. They were all waiting for Baxter to finish the soup so they could pick it up at the counter. Kathryn sat down in the seat next to Spot's, but he didn't sit.
Taking his gold-tip cane out his pant's loop, Spot began to speak. "Boys, dis is Kathryn. She needs a place ta stay, so, she's stayin' heah. She can't talk, so, don't get offended if she doesn't reply ta you. I don't want none of you givin' her trouble or you'd have to answer ta me. Got dat?"
All the boys agreed. But one had this curious expression on his face. The girl looked oddly familiar to him. He was about to stand up and ask, when Baxter called the soup done. There was a rush to get in line. Kathryn waited for Spot to take her up there.
"Baxter, I need a favor" he said as they stepped up to the counter after all the boys had gotten their soup and paid.
Baxter, who was around his mid-forties, saw Kathryn and knew what was coming. "Now Spot, I'm not housing one of your girlfriends so you can be close to her."
Spot threw him a deranged look. "Wha'? No, no, you don't understand. This heah is Kathryn. I found a buncha slobs hurtin' her today. She can't really be a newsie, but she can do chores ta pay back fer the rent. See, she's mute."
"You don't say…" The older man glanced over Kathryn. She was rather ragged looking, and was holding a notepad and pen. It broke his heart at the pitiful sight of her. "All right, she can stay. But if I check anything happening, you'll be thrown out like that." He snapped his finger. "You maybe the leader of these boys, but it's still my house you're livin' under. I only let you manage it."
"Fair enough" Spot said, nodding. "Thanks Baxter. C'mon Kathryn, I'll buy you dinner."
Everyone was about finished eating and were bringing their bowls to the sink in the kitchen. Kathryn saw this, deciding now would be a good time to start work. She let Spot know what she was about to do ((by notepad, of course)), and headed to the kitchen where Baxter was already starting to dash the dishes. She stopped him to start herself. Baxter was pretty glad to not have to do the extra work.
It didn't take long before she was done. The dining hall was cleared. Kathryn scanned around the room to see if anything had been left on the tables. There really wasn't any spills or whatnot. They must try not to spill a drop - she thought to herself. It was really the first thought she had all day other than the decisions. Rarely she tried to think about anything. It would only hurt to brood over her own life.
She was about to leave when a newsboy strolled in casually. He stared at her very intensely, like he was staring at a piece of art work that just couldn't be figured out.
"I know you from somewhere" he finally spoke. Kathryn looked down, shamefully. "I just can't put my finger on it" The boy keep talking as he stepped closer to her. Kathryn's breathing grew harder and her nerves beginning to be on edge. "Oh well, guess I'll remember soon enough. Flaggler is the name."
He stuck his hand out to shake. Kathryn didn't know what to do. She peered up at him as if confused. "You don't know what a hand shake is or is ole' Spot keepin' him for his self?"
"Cool it, Flaggler" a stern voice echoed from the doorway across the room. Spot was there, leaning against the frame.
"Wha'? I was just foolin' around, Spot" Flaggler defended, turning from Kathryn.
"I know you, Flaggler, and you weren't foolin'." Spot sauntered up to the two then slipped between them. "You stay away from her, all right?" His intense eyes were sending daggers into his newsie's eyes.
Flaggler smirked wickedly. "Yeah, whatever you say. I'll remember who you are, girly." With that, he walked out the room.
Spot turned to face Kathryn. "Dang it, he's always been trouble. He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Kathryn shook her head. "Good. Now let's get upstairs, it's almost lights out."
Author Note: Uh…what can I say, I write too much. Actually this is an old fic I haven't worked on in a while, but finally got inspiration to do it. I hate to contribute to the millions of Spot fics out there, but he seemed like the perfect character to put in this situation. Don't let the title fool you! This fic is *not* dirty! It has some violence and other stuff ((don't wanna give it away)) in it to make it PG-13. So, that's all. Enjoy!
The cold wind blew over the gravestones. Ben Conlon shivered. Not necessarily from the cold, but at the thought of who was lying in the ground below him. Still. Quiet. Not a word was spoken by her, not even in life……
Spot Conlon was on patrol of his territory. Usually his newsies would go about watching over it, but there had been problems with a new gang. They'd tried to take over Brooklyn territory about a month earlier. Spot's gang had been on the edge ever since especially him.
The ruckus on the street was interrupted with a showcase of entertainment. A girl came tearing through the crowd. She wasn't watching where she was going and was headed in front of a wagon traveling by. Spot's attention was caught by what was pursuing her - two men. They were shouting out profanity and running after the girl. That's when he saw the wagon coming near.
In a matter of seconds, Spot found himself on the ground with the girl. He recovered his bearings first, going to help the girl up.
"Are you okay?"
The girl only pushed him away, grunting. The two men came storming up to them. "What did I tell you I was gonna do to you if you tried to escape?!" the first man yelled, jerking the girl to her feet.
"Ye never suppose ta do that, lassie" the second man - who was Scottish - said coldly, wrapping his arms around her waist. She started to wiggle from his grasp. "Stop it now!"
The girl was jerking furiously to get away and grunting loudly. No words came from her mouth. Spot stood there in utter shock. He knew it wasn't any of his business, but to treat this poor girl like that - it made him angry.
"Hey, hey! Whatcha doin' ta her?!" he shouted, breaking in on the action.
The two men glared at him. "None a ye business, slug!"
The girl was now gasping for air, still trying to get away from the man's arms. She was trying so hard, she was hurting herself.
"Why the heck you treatin' her like doit!" Spot asked, hand on cane…ready for battle.
"She's dumb" the first man replied.
Dumb? Spot shock his head. She didn't look 'dumb', but he wasn't sure what they meant by that. The first man finally slapped her. Spot's eyes turned gray as the gold tip of a cane connected with the man's temple. Spot fought to free the girl. He succeeded.
He grabbed the girl's wrist and ran into the closest alleyway. He was pulling her along when she tripped over some boxes. She fell hard on her knee. It started to bleed. Spot stopped, sighing in frustration. The girl was tearing up now.
"Let me see." He bent down next to her. The girl glared at him with glassy eyes. When he tried to touch her knee, she moved away hurriedly. "Don't be scared. I won't hoit you."
She glared at him, suspiciously. It was hard to believe, but the girl let him look at her knee. She hesitated though. "It looks bad, but we'll get you fixed up." All she did was stare. Spot cracked a smile at her blank expression. "Whatcha name?" Staring…she didn't respond. "You can tell me yer name. It's okay. Look, I'll tell you mine. I'm Spot Conlon, leader a the Brooklyn newsies." No response. "You nevah hoid a Brooklyn? Do you know where ya at?" This was getting to be old. Spot slapped his hand on his leg. "Girl, why won't you talk?! Talk, fer crip sake!"
The girl backed away again at his anger coming out. He noticed this and calm down. "I'm sorry. I jist wish you would say something." She started gesturing with her right hand. Spot watched, but didn't understand. "Wha' the heck are you doin'?"
The girl touched her throat then did another hand gesture. Spot was totally confused by now. "I ain't heah ta play games. I saved you from dat wagon and who evah dose men were, but I got places ta go. Bye." He started to walk away. The girl grunted, grabbing onto his wrist. "WHAT?!" She started gesturing again this time it was more like surrads.
She pointed to her eye. Spot played along. "Eye. Okay, what about your eye?" She waved her hands over each other then covered her mouth. Spot scratched his head trying to figure this puzzle out. Finally, it struck him. "I…can't…talk?" He looked at her. "You can't talk?" The girl slumped her shoulders, nodding sadly.
Spot turned flush from embarrassment. He bent down in front of her again. "I'm sorry." She hung her head. "I'm guessing you don't got a place ta stay?" She nodded. "You can come wit me den. Come on." He helped her up, leading her to the Brooklyn lodging house the back way.
Spot lead the girl into the Brooklyn lodging house. It was practically empty, not even the house keeper was in. Spot knew Baxter - the house keeper - wouldn't mind the girl staying there as long as she keep out of the way. He stopped and walked behind the desk in the lobby. The girl watched him curiously. He emerged with a pen and note paper.
"Can you write?" he asked, holding the pen in the air like he was writing.
The girl sighed, slumping her shoulders. She did something with her hands which was actually sign language.
"Can you?"
The girl took the paper and pen, and wrote something down. She handed it back to Spot. The paper said a simple, "Yes."
Spot almost wanted to laugh. "Whatcha name, den?"
The girl wrote on the paper again, and handed it back. "Kathryn. Dat's a pretty name. So…Kathryn, follow me upstairs."
She stared at him oddly, making another sign with her hands. Spot groaned. This was already starting to irritate him. He became irritated very easily. Almost all his life, he'd been like that. That's one reason he became the Brooklyn leader…his flaring temper.
"Since you sayin' heah, don't think it'd be wise to sleep in the bunkroom with the boys. So you'll sleep in my room" Spot said, leading Kathryn to a small door near the end of the bunkroom. He opened it, revealing a small space in the wall. It was about the size of a large, narrow closet with only a bunk bed, crate, and night stand where a lamp sat. There were no windows.
"You can take the bottom. The top bunk is mine." Kathryn nodded in agreement. "Like I was sayin' about the boys, they're very frisky. If any of 'em give you trouble, come to me. I wouldn't suggest in trusting any of them." Kathryn nodded again.
"Look heah, Kathryn, I know you couldn't be a newsie - dat requires a voice." She appeared slightly taken aback by the comment, but understood. "You think you can do chores 'round heah? It'd give Baxter a break and maybe they'll be your pay back for staying heah." Kathryn smiled a little, bobbing her head.
"Okay. C'mon…" Spot directed her out the room to the main bunkroom. "We'll wait fer the boys downstairs in the dining hall. It's almost dinner time."
In the small dining hall, were two long tables. Some boys had already filtered in from a hard days work. Kathryn was surprised at how big they were. The boys looked more like muscled giants to her. Spot lead her over to the head of the table where he sat. The boys stared at Kathryn like she was a piece of meat ready for the dog's eating. Kathryn hung her head low from shame mostly, not wanting to see their faces.
Spot looked over his band of newsies. They were all waiting for Baxter to finish the soup so they could pick it up at the counter. Kathryn sat down in the seat next to Spot's, but he didn't sit.
Taking his gold-tip cane out his pant's loop, Spot began to speak. "Boys, dis is Kathryn. She needs a place ta stay, so, she's stayin' heah. She can't talk, so, don't get offended if she doesn't reply ta you. I don't want none of you givin' her trouble or you'd have to answer ta me. Got dat?"
All the boys agreed. But one had this curious expression on his face. The girl looked oddly familiar to him. He was about to stand up and ask, when Baxter called the soup done. There was a rush to get in line. Kathryn waited for Spot to take her up there.
"Baxter, I need a favor" he said as they stepped up to the counter after all the boys had gotten their soup and paid.
Baxter, who was around his mid-forties, saw Kathryn and knew what was coming. "Now Spot, I'm not housing one of your girlfriends so you can be close to her."
Spot threw him a deranged look. "Wha'? No, no, you don't understand. This heah is Kathryn. I found a buncha slobs hurtin' her today. She can't really be a newsie, but she can do chores ta pay back fer the rent. See, she's mute."
"You don't say…" The older man glanced over Kathryn. She was rather ragged looking, and was holding a notepad and pen. It broke his heart at the pitiful sight of her. "All right, she can stay. But if I check anything happening, you'll be thrown out like that." He snapped his finger. "You maybe the leader of these boys, but it's still my house you're livin' under. I only let you manage it."
"Fair enough" Spot said, nodding. "Thanks Baxter. C'mon Kathryn, I'll buy you dinner."
Everyone was about finished eating and were bringing their bowls to the sink in the kitchen. Kathryn saw this, deciding now would be a good time to start work. She let Spot know what she was about to do ((by notepad, of course)), and headed to the kitchen where Baxter was already starting to dash the dishes. She stopped him to start herself. Baxter was pretty glad to not have to do the extra work.
It didn't take long before she was done. The dining hall was cleared. Kathryn scanned around the room to see if anything had been left on the tables. There really wasn't any spills or whatnot. They must try not to spill a drop - she thought to herself. It was really the first thought she had all day other than the decisions. Rarely she tried to think about anything. It would only hurt to brood over her own life.
She was about to leave when a newsboy strolled in casually. He stared at her very intensely, like he was staring at a piece of art work that just couldn't be figured out.
"I know you from somewhere" he finally spoke. Kathryn looked down, shamefully. "I just can't put my finger on it" The boy keep talking as he stepped closer to her. Kathryn's breathing grew harder and her nerves beginning to be on edge. "Oh well, guess I'll remember soon enough. Flaggler is the name."
He stuck his hand out to shake. Kathryn didn't know what to do. She peered up at him as if confused. "You don't know what a hand shake is or is ole' Spot keepin' him for his self?"
"Cool it, Flaggler" a stern voice echoed from the doorway across the room. Spot was there, leaning against the frame.
"Wha'? I was just foolin' around, Spot" Flaggler defended, turning from Kathryn.
"I know you, Flaggler, and you weren't foolin'." Spot sauntered up to the two then slipped between them. "You stay away from her, all right?" His intense eyes were sending daggers into his newsie's eyes.
Flaggler smirked wickedly. "Yeah, whatever you say. I'll remember who you are, girly." With that, he walked out the room.
Spot turned to face Kathryn. "Dang it, he's always been trouble. He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Kathryn shook her head. "Good. Now let's get upstairs, it's almost lights out."