Race's POV
They have to be the most ridiculous two people in the world when it comes to each other. I mean, from the first time I saw them together I knew something was going to happen eventually. Extremely too obvious, even for someone like me. Of course, since I'm the only person who knows, I guess everyone else is far too wrapped up in their own lives to see it or understand it. Well, actually I think David suspects too, but then again, he IS the smart one.
When I first met Spot I was with Jack and strangely enough he hadn't met him yet either. We'd both heard stories of this fearless Brooklyn leader but hadn't actually seen him. And when we finally saw him it was by complete accident, you see were both wasted. I'm not even sure if we knew where we were going at that point.
But anyway, we got to Brooklyn all laughing at everything we said and just kind of stumbled into a group of Spot's older, more experienced and less forgiving newsies. Thankfully, Spot broke them up before anything too big could happen. The scene that followed is one that is sorched in my mind - and probably always will be.
* FLASHBACK *
"Clear da way, clear da way," Spot said charging through the boys like a bull to where I was and Jack was barely standing. He'' had a lot more to drink than me.
"An who are you?" Spot glanced at me then at Jack who was leaning over, hands on his knees trying to steady himself. You couldn't even see his face because his hair was hanging down shielding it from view. Jack wasn't making any attempt to talk, so I figured I'd have too.
"Well," I cleared my throat before launching into a slightly slurred introduction. "Me name's Racetrack Higgins an dis 'ere is Jack Kelly. We're not quite ourselves today."
Spot knew who Jack was obviously (I suppose leaders know other leaders) because he raised an eyebrow and turned to Jack, who was still bent over. Which kind of worried me.
"'Ay Jack, youse alright?" I asked looking down at him. He responded by nodding weakly and slowly standing up straight and looking Spot right in the eye. Something Jack is very good at. Drunk or not.
"Now dat youse know us, how bout you tell us yer name?" Jack said in the least shaky voice he could muster.
"Spot Conlon."
Myself, I choked on the very air I was breathing and just stared. Jack, however, was always the more straight forward one. He looked mildly shocked first, but his expression quickly went back to normal.
"Huh. Dat's great. Jist great I'se heard too much an ain't seen nuthin. Pleasure ta meet ya," Jack answered extending a hand which Spot took after only a moments hesitation. Then as if to make a gesture of respect 9or it could have just been the booze) he bowed down to the shorter boy and that was his mistake.
I'm not sure exactly what happened to get them in their next positions, (again, I blame the booze) but all of a sudden Jack and Spot were sprawled down on the ground, with Jack on top of Spot. It was a sight to see. Jack was laughing and Spot was making no attempt to get out of the situation.
"Ya know," Jack said next, abruptly stopping his laughter and letting his eyes roam over Spot's face. "I'se do believe you are as pretty as any goil I'se ever seen."
I could've hit him for saying that. But soon enough he was laughing hysterically again and rolled himself off Spot, helping hisself to his feet - which still weren't all that stable.
It was the look on Spot's face that caught and kept my attention. He wasn't disgusted or furious like I figured he would be. (Especially after that girl comment. Testosterone is strange about things like that) No, he looked like he was in some kind of dazed shock with this curious look in his eyes. But whatever he was thinking about, he definitely wasn't turned off by all the things that Jack had said and done. Not that Jack or anyone else but me noticed that.
I decided then and there something was going to happen. Sometime. Someday. But by the way Jack was walking I saw we needed to get back to Manhattan. So we left Spot and his boys standing there, watching us closely. And the next morning Cowboy didn't remember a thing. Or, at least none of the details and I never told him.
* END FLASHBACK *
And here they were, two and a half years later and still blind to each other. To me it was very frustrating because it's not like I could just voice my opinion on the situation randomly.
So I guess that's why when Jack announced his leaving to Santa Fe, the first person I looked for was Spot. Not that I really had to pick him out of the crowd. He was sitting across from me at the poker table with his back facing Jack.
At that moment, Spot looked absolutely nothing like the image he's built for himself. Instead of coldness and intimidation, he looked every bit like a broken child who just heard someone they loved was leaving them. The one thing I gotta give him credit for is he didn't break down and cry. Although he looked damn close to tears. Almost broke my own hear to see how much Jack was hurting him just by saying he was going. And made me angry too because Jack didn't know he was breaking Spot's heart.
Of course, I knew something happened that night after Spot said he would go and talk to him for a little while. Especially when Jack comes waltzing in hours later, flushed and in a deep thoughtful daze that he had a tendency to do sometimes. He didn't even try talking to us again, just went straight to bed.
When I found out Spot was avoiding Jack, I was almost to the point of pulling out my own hair in frustration. Personally, I was ready to just kidnap them both and lock them in a room together. Between Spot's "mysterious" disappearing act and Jack's moaning at night, I was just past the point of sick and tired. So I decided to confront one of them. And since Jack has to get ready to leave today, I picked MIA Spot.
He was, to say it nicely, shocked that I knew he loved Jack. But I think (hopefully) that I got through to him. And I think he'll show up to say goodbye to him. Because I know if he doesn't he'll regret it for the rest of his life. In fact, if they get all clingy and such, I just might buy Spot a one way ticket to join Jack. (I doubt it though. Spot would never do anything like that. He's got way to much pride to allow himself to do that.)
I just hope he'll show. Speaking of showing, I've got to get something from the lodging house then head down to the station since his train's leaving in an hour and a half. It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I demanded Spot come and then I get their late myself.
All this better turn out too, because damnit, someone needs a happy ending.
A/N: I wrote it last night, so I've got to post it now! And I'm almost done with this story, only two more chapters left, Jack's POV and then Spot's POV. So, la de da. I'm being lazy today so, thanks to everyone who reviewed you are all lovely. (gives more chocolate and such to make up for her laziness)
They have to be the most ridiculous two people in the world when it comes to each other. I mean, from the first time I saw them together I knew something was going to happen eventually. Extremely too obvious, even for someone like me. Of course, since I'm the only person who knows, I guess everyone else is far too wrapped up in their own lives to see it or understand it. Well, actually I think David suspects too, but then again, he IS the smart one.
When I first met Spot I was with Jack and strangely enough he hadn't met him yet either. We'd both heard stories of this fearless Brooklyn leader but hadn't actually seen him. And when we finally saw him it was by complete accident, you see were both wasted. I'm not even sure if we knew where we were going at that point.
But anyway, we got to Brooklyn all laughing at everything we said and just kind of stumbled into a group of Spot's older, more experienced and less forgiving newsies. Thankfully, Spot broke them up before anything too big could happen. The scene that followed is one that is sorched in my mind - and probably always will be.
* FLASHBACK *
"Clear da way, clear da way," Spot said charging through the boys like a bull to where I was and Jack was barely standing. He'' had a lot more to drink than me.
"An who are you?" Spot glanced at me then at Jack who was leaning over, hands on his knees trying to steady himself. You couldn't even see his face because his hair was hanging down shielding it from view. Jack wasn't making any attempt to talk, so I figured I'd have too.
"Well," I cleared my throat before launching into a slightly slurred introduction. "Me name's Racetrack Higgins an dis 'ere is Jack Kelly. We're not quite ourselves today."
Spot knew who Jack was obviously (I suppose leaders know other leaders) because he raised an eyebrow and turned to Jack, who was still bent over. Which kind of worried me.
"'Ay Jack, youse alright?" I asked looking down at him. He responded by nodding weakly and slowly standing up straight and looking Spot right in the eye. Something Jack is very good at. Drunk or not.
"Now dat youse know us, how bout you tell us yer name?" Jack said in the least shaky voice he could muster.
"Spot Conlon."
Myself, I choked on the very air I was breathing and just stared. Jack, however, was always the more straight forward one. He looked mildly shocked first, but his expression quickly went back to normal.
"Huh. Dat's great. Jist great I'se heard too much an ain't seen nuthin. Pleasure ta meet ya," Jack answered extending a hand which Spot took after only a moments hesitation. Then as if to make a gesture of respect 9or it could have just been the booze) he bowed down to the shorter boy and that was his mistake.
I'm not sure exactly what happened to get them in their next positions, (again, I blame the booze) but all of a sudden Jack and Spot were sprawled down on the ground, with Jack on top of Spot. It was a sight to see. Jack was laughing and Spot was making no attempt to get out of the situation.
"Ya know," Jack said next, abruptly stopping his laughter and letting his eyes roam over Spot's face. "I'se do believe you are as pretty as any goil I'se ever seen."
I could've hit him for saying that. But soon enough he was laughing hysterically again and rolled himself off Spot, helping hisself to his feet - which still weren't all that stable.
It was the look on Spot's face that caught and kept my attention. He wasn't disgusted or furious like I figured he would be. (Especially after that girl comment. Testosterone is strange about things like that) No, he looked like he was in some kind of dazed shock with this curious look in his eyes. But whatever he was thinking about, he definitely wasn't turned off by all the things that Jack had said and done. Not that Jack or anyone else but me noticed that.
I decided then and there something was going to happen. Sometime. Someday. But by the way Jack was walking I saw we needed to get back to Manhattan. So we left Spot and his boys standing there, watching us closely. And the next morning Cowboy didn't remember a thing. Or, at least none of the details and I never told him.
* END FLASHBACK *
And here they were, two and a half years later and still blind to each other. To me it was very frustrating because it's not like I could just voice my opinion on the situation randomly.
So I guess that's why when Jack announced his leaving to Santa Fe, the first person I looked for was Spot. Not that I really had to pick him out of the crowd. He was sitting across from me at the poker table with his back facing Jack.
At that moment, Spot looked absolutely nothing like the image he's built for himself. Instead of coldness and intimidation, he looked every bit like a broken child who just heard someone they loved was leaving them. The one thing I gotta give him credit for is he didn't break down and cry. Although he looked damn close to tears. Almost broke my own hear to see how much Jack was hurting him just by saying he was going. And made me angry too because Jack didn't know he was breaking Spot's heart.
Of course, I knew something happened that night after Spot said he would go and talk to him for a little while. Especially when Jack comes waltzing in hours later, flushed and in a deep thoughtful daze that he had a tendency to do sometimes. He didn't even try talking to us again, just went straight to bed.
When I found out Spot was avoiding Jack, I was almost to the point of pulling out my own hair in frustration. Personally, I was ready to just kidnap them both and lock them in a room together. Between Spot's "mysterious" disappearing act and Jack's moaning at night, I was just past the point of sick and tired. So I decided to confront one of them. And since Jack has to get ready to leave today, I picked MIA Spot.
He was, to say it nicely, shocked that I knew he loved Jack. But I think (hopefully) that I got through to him. And I think he'll show up to say goodbye to him. Because I know if he doesn't he'll regret it for the rest of his life. In fact, if they get all clingy and such, I just might buy Spot a one way ticket to join Jack. (I doubt it though. Spot would never do anything like that. He's got way to much pride to allow himself to do that.)
I just hope he'll show. Speaking of showing, I've got to get something from the lodging house then head down to the station since his train's leaving in an hour and a half. It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I demanded Spot come and then I get their late myself.
All this better turn out too, because damnit, someone needs a happy ending.
A/N: I wrote it last night, so I've got to post it now! And I'm almost done with this story, only two more chapters left, Jack's POV and then Spot's POV. So, la de da. I'm being lazy today so, thanks to everyone who reviewed you are all lovely. (gives more chocolate and such to make up for her laziness)