A/N: Happy Quarantine? Also Happy Easter I guess...

I hope you all are doing alright in these trying times. Thanks to way too much time at home and Disney+ there should be more Fightin Irish coming. As always, please review and let me know what you're thinking! PM me if you want or need to talk about anything. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and kept up with this story despite the long hiatus and super unpredictable updates You're amazing. Stay safe and healthy!


~His smile dropped as he strode past Jack and turned back, "Show me this strike ain't just some kid's do-or-dare, then we'll talk."~

When Spot walked into their room that night, she was waiting up on him. Sitting against the headboard, her knees pulled up to her chest, a threadbare blanket scrunched around her feet. She wore the flowy thin white nightdress Medda gave her. She didn't say anything when he entered, closing the door behind him and walking over to his cot, but he felt her eyes on him as he unhooked his suspenders from his pants and stripped himself of his plaid button-down, leaving him in only his too-big pants and a ratty once-white tank top.

When he looked at her, she didn't avert her eyes, just blushed slightly as her lips lifted at the corners.

"What?" he asked.

She shrugged, legs stretching out in front of her. "Ya t'ink they'll do it?" she asked.

He narrowed his eyes, "Jackie?"

"Ya t'ink they'll do it? Strike?" she asked, "For real? 'E said somethin' about stoppin' da wagons 'fore 'e left an'-"

He paused, walking over to the rickety bed and sitting down beside her legs, effectively cutting her off. "Why ya so interested?"

"I…," she fidgeted, "I just… It's a big fight- takin' on da businessman, takin' on Pulitza', the newspapa'. Dere's a lot, a lot could go wrong. I don wan' anybody ta git hurt." Her instinct was to dive-in head first. Her instinct was to jump in right beside them. She didn't say that though.

"Don' go jumpin' head-first afta Cowboy," he said warily. "'E's tough but he ain't real patient. We ain't doin' nothin' if he ain't gonna stick wit' it. Strike ain't goin nowhere if Jack don't stick by it." He paused, one hand lying heavily on her calf. Then, he shrugged, "'I ain't lettin' ma boys starve for nothin'. If da 'Hattan boys prove they're serious," he shrugged and looked away briefly before meeting her eyes once again, "we'll be dere ta back 'em up."

"Yeah?" she asked.

He nodded. He wondered what that strange glow in her eyes was.

She shifted slightly, moving closer to him. He looked beautiful in the low-light, tanned skin glowing in the thin moonlight and those cerulean blue eyes bright. Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his cheek with a small smile before sitting back and proclaiming, "You're sorda sweet sometimes ya know dat."

He snorted, raising his arm to nudge her backward onto the bed. Her face scrunched as she laughed, her legs curled up in front of her, bare feet peeking out beneath her night dress. He couldn't fight the smile that grew as she laughed softly, poking at his thigh with her pale white toes until he, quick as a flash, grabbed her ankle and dragged her closer- until her chest brushed against his arm.

"I ain't sweet."

"'Course not," she said, her face just next to his, a small teasing smile on her face as their breath intermingled, "Youse is absolutely terrifyin'."

Their lips locked.

Neither was sure who kissed who, but suddenly his chapped lips were brushing hers. Her fingertips were on his neck, cool against his warm skin. One hand ghosted along her leg, his other cupped the side of her face. They pulled apart, her eyes still closed as they shared a breath. His piercing eyes were unsure as his tongue darted out and traced across the place her lips had touched his. Her eyes opened. He saw the different greens swirling together, the specs of brown throughout.

"Spot," she said his name in a hushed whisper, her breath fanning against him.

"Hmm."

"You know there's green in your eyes?" she asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips as her hands fell from his neck down his chest and then gripped onto the fabric of his shirt.

His eyebrows narrowed in confusion, "What?"

She laughed, eyes squinting as she did. "Nothing," she said, her eyes darting away from him and back. "I- I uh," she sighed. "Goodnight, Spot," she said and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a chaste kiss, untangling her limbs from his and lying down to sleep.