Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the characters or the places mentioned in the story. All that is Disney's is Disney's, and all that is mine is mine. This disclaimer holds true for all chapters posted, or to be posted of this story. I am not making money with this story; I am dirt poor, so don't sue me. I also take no claim to the song lyrics. Those belong to the producers, the artists, the composers, the record label, the writers, and the genius that is not my own. I am not making money off of it or any part of this story, no infringement is intended, so don't sue me.
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A/N: I love FF.net. I just thought I would share that. Sometimes it can be a pain or have its problems, but overall it is an awesome system and operation. With that out of the way, I am going to simply say that right now I have been solely inspired to write this story and not Blind Spot. I feel that it is more appropriate the write this story any way, considering it comes before Blind Spot. No worries for the faithful readers of that story, I will still be updating it, I just think that this one will be updated more frequently until it is finished, then I can focus my sole attention on Blind Spot.
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Warning: This chapter is PG for mild language.
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Chapter 13: The Key
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//Things my heart,
Used to know,
Things it yearns,
To remember…//
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So the mighty Spot Conlon arrived at the Manhattan lodging house to find Cowboy Sullivan there, looking heroic as ever. The group of boys that had escorted him was there, but the others had returned to their respective boroughs as instructed. All of the boys and girls were crowded around their freed leader as he told his variation of the tale. Standing in the stairwell, Spot listened with an amused smile on his lips. When he had heard enough, he climbed the last few stairs and tapped his cane on the floor. Automatically, there was a hush.
"Well Cowboy," Spot walked over to his fellow leader with his confidant swagger. "Ah da bulls goin' ta know ta look foah yous heah?" he asked.
"No," Cowboy shook his head. "Dey don' know dat I'se a newsie," he answered and Spot looked at him suspiciously.
"Yous got ta get a new name," Spot instructed, and Cowboy looked at him blankly. "Ya know, somet'ing ta hide undah," he explained and looked around the room for inspiration.
A copy of the day's paper lay on the floor and Spot picked it up, thumbing through the pages. Scanning all of the articles, he tried to find a name that suited his friend. Again and again, he would shake his head or mutter something under his breath, but he didn't find what he was looking for until the last page.
"Jack," Spot announced and Cowboy blinked. "Youah name is Jack," he said plainly and Cowboy seemed to think about it for a moment.
"A'ight," he nodded. "Jack," he tested the name. "I like it."
"Good, cause dats youah name," Spot said tersely, tossing the paper to the ground. "Now whot about youah last name?" he asked, opening the floor for suggestions.
"How 'bout Edwahds?" One girl piped up.
"Oah Smith," Said another.
"Jack Smith?" Race raised an eyebrow at the bland sounding name.
"Brown, Jack Brown," Kid Blink offered and Jack made a face.
"Jack Pulitzer!" Specs added with a laugh and a chuckle ran through the group.
"Why don' ya add DeLancey why yous at it," Jack grumbled, not particularly enjoying any of the propositions.
"Kelly," Spot said plainly. "Jack Kelly."
For awhile no one said anything, if anyone didn't like the name, they didn't say so. It was probably in their better interest that they stayed quiet because it was Spot's suggestion. For a moment, Jack looked up at Spot and then seemed to be thinking over the offer of the new name. It was better than any of the other suggestions that he had gotten.
"Jack Kelly," he tested the name hesitantly. "Jack Kelly," he said it again, a little bolder and a smile tugged at his lips. "I likes it!" he proclaimed and Spot smirked.
"Den Jack Kelly it is," Spot slapped his friend on the back and looked around the room. "Dis heah is Jack Kelly an' anyone dat says differ'nt is goin' ta havta ansah ta me," he threatened and no one said anything. Without another word, Spot left, heading back to Brooklyn. That crisis had been handled with ease, he only hoped that everything was under control back in Brooklyn.
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//Living might mean taking chances,
But their worth taking,
Loving might be a mistake,
But it's worth making…//
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Spot walked back to the lodging house at his own pace, confident that Frost would still be there. Again and again the scene played over in his mind, she had kissed him back. Though she had kissed him back before, he hoped that things had changed since that random embrace on the bridge. The knife that he had used against her nestled safely in his boot. It wasn't his habit to carry it regularly, his cane and slingshot normally were enough, but since the run in with the Pullvines and Frost's brother, he didn't want to take any chances. His supply of marbles was drastically depleted as he had used more than he anticipated in plaguing the drunks on the bridge. The pain in his body was sharp and the weariness could be seen in his eyes, but there was a spring in his step as he headed back home that night.
The group of newsie instantly noted the change of mood that their commander in chief had registered upon re-arrival. No one brought it up, but there was an evident alteration. This mood was curious to say the least. Though he never openly expressed himself, his posture spoke loudly. No longer were his shoulders slumped or his forehead pulled into a slight pucker, no he stood tall and his face was bright. Whatever had happened since he had left had certainly changed his outlook on life.
Though Spot had returned, Frost hadn't. This was the only thing that damped their leaders cheery outlook. The fact was not that she hadn't returned, but it was that Spot hadn't seen her. Now wasn't the time to go poking around looking for her. Now was the time to make believe that he had extracted whatever bit of information he had desired from the renegade girl. Though in the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder where she was.
Whot if she didn't come back? The sudden thought came to him, but he tried to push it aside. She came back, he reasoned. Wheah else could she go? He smiled inwardly at the thought, she had to be here. But if she's heah, den wheah is she? That was the last though he was able to construct before his co-leader came over and interrupted them.
"Did ya talk ta her?" he asked and Spot looked at him stupidly for a moment before processing what he had said.
"Whot? Oh, yeah," Spot blinked and Outsider eyed him curiously.
"Yous okay?" He asked hesitantly and Spot glared at him.
"O' coyse I'se okay," he looked up at his tall friend. "Jus' t'inkin' 'bout dat goil down at Millah's dinah," he smiled suggestively and Outsider's deep-set eyes twinkled.
"Da new blonde?" he asked and Spot whistled through his teeth, Outsider laughed. "She's got da coyves of an angel," Outsider replied and Spot merely nodded.
It was true that Spot had noticed the new waitress, but he hadn't made any moves towards romancing her. His appetite for woman had waned drastically in the past weeks. If this girl had two heads he probably wouldn't have noticed. Luckily this girl was obviously quite a looker.
"So whot did yous need ta talk ta dat goil about?" Outsider changed the topic back to the precursor, obviously much relieved that his leader at least seemed to have his interest elsewhere.
"We had some t'ings dat she need ta undahstand if she wos goin' ta stay heah," Spot answered smoothly and Outsider nodded. The girl obviously needed someone to draw the line for her and who better to do so than Spot?
"She goin' ta be causin' any pro'lems?" Outsider raised his eyebrows.
"No," Spot answered confidently. "She ain't goin' ta be any moah trouble."
"Good," Outsider sounded pleased. "We'se got a pokah game stahtin' ovah dere, ya wanna join?" He offered and Spot shook his head.
"I'se t'ink Is'll sit dis one out," he informed and Outsider walked away.
So he sat out the poker game, he went over to his bunk and climbed up onto his bed. Though he was exhausted, he couldn't have gone to sleep if he tried. What he wanted to do was find Frost. Where was that girl? Surely she hadn't stayed out on a night like this. Didn't she ever learn? Maybe she was here, but somewhere else in the building. The roof was a possibility, as was the unfinished bunkroom.
He wanted to get up and go and check, but how could he do so without being conspicuous? This was a challenge, as it was that he had already left once that night, but he was the leader, no one would question him. Being the leader though meant that he was always closely under watch. Irritated, Spot frowned, his good mood quickly evaporating. What did it matter if everyone was watching him? There wasn't even any guarantee that she was going to be there. Beyond the point of caring, Spot jumped down from his bunk, his aching feet protesting under the abuse.
Casually, he went out the bunkroom door, closing it after himself, and walking down the hall. He could easily be going to the bathroom, which was separate from the bunkroom, and he convinced himself that everyone thought he was going there. There was no reason why he should even be worried about what the others thought. Right now, he was looking for the only thing he really cared about. The door to the unfinished bedroom was still unlocked, apparently the workers hadn't been there today. Sadly the room was empty, so he quickly shut the door and walked to the end of the hall where the ladder waited. Unsteadily, he climbed.
Going up a ladder with only one functioning hand was more difficult than he remembered from the night before, but he managed. When he opened the hatch the first thing he felt was the intense cold and he wished that he had brought his coat. The icy air burned his lungs and made his broken bones ache, but he pulled himself up onto the roof and saw what he had been looking for. Her back was to him, and she had her arms wrapped around herself, her long hair had been loosed from its restrictive braid and flowed freely in the frigid air.
"Whot do yous wont, Spot?" she asked harshly without even turning around.
"I needs ta talk ta yous," he walked towards her and he saw her shoulders stiffen.
"Fine den," she didn't look at him as he approached. "Talk."
Spot didn't start until he had walked around in front of her. Though she was looking forward, she stared into oblivion. It was as though she was looking right through him and he shifted uncomfortably. Those dark eyes looked so hallow as they didn't waver from their course. Struggling for the right approach, Spot chose the path of brutal honesty for this situation.
"I kissed yous," he stated blunted and he thought he saw her jaw clench. "But yous kissed me back," he pointed out and she didn't move. "Why?"
The question hung in midair for a long time, unanswered. Frost's face didn't alter a fraction as she stood there, staring into Spot's chest. The bitter cold was a painful reminder to Spot that he didn't have his coat, and it took all of his will to keep his teeth from chattering. Then there was a deep sight from Frost and she dropped her head, mumbling something that Spot couldn't understand. The chestnut hair fell on either sides of her face, hiding her expression.
"Whot?" he prompted and she looked up at him, glaring.
"Jus' cause I kissed yous back don' mean nuttin'," she answered harshly and Spot smirked.
"But ya still kissed me," he pointed out.
"An' why does dis mattah so much ta yous?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Cause," he gloated, "I knew I'se could make ya do it again," he boasted and dark fire flashed in Frost's eyes.
"I ain't no prize foah yous ta claim," she hissed.
"Don' woahy," he shrugged his shoulders. "Yous ain't dat bad a kissah," he enjoyed the expression of rage that crossed her face.
"Gawd you ah such a -" she was cut off.
"A bastahd?" he asked and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'se really am," he watched her face change from one of anger to one of confusion. Had the great Spot Conlon really just insulted himself? "But Is'll tell ya a secret," he leaned down close to her ear and whispered suggestively, "I t'ink dats why you likes me."
Her body tensed noticeably as he pulled back slowly, his words sending anger back into full swing. How could he be so completely insufferable, so incredibly inconsiderate, so unbearably rude, and yet so utterly perfect? Heat flooded her face at the accuracy of his guess, but she would die before she admitted that. Enraged, she spat at his feet, blatant disrespect shining in her eyes. Mirth was shining in his steel blue eyes as he laughed, his breath making clouds in the night air.
"Dat's a nice necklace yous got dere," Spot said, changing subjects so quickly it made Frost's head spin. In an instant he was reaching out and fingering the gold cross that she had forgotten to tuck back inside her shirt when he had interrupted her thoughts. "Wheah'd ya gets it?" he asked and Frost knew he thought she had stolen it.
"It's mine," she said coolly. "An' I didn' take it from no one," she added and Spot's face told her that he didn't believe a word she said.
"Shuah," he bent down to get a close look at it in the dim light. "Is dat real gold?" he asked and Frost shifted uncomfortably.
"Will yous stop pawin' my t'ings?" she reached up her hand and tried to remove his.
This task proved harder than she imagined, as she couldn't pry his fingers off of her necklace. Frowning, she tried harder, but his strong fingers wouldn't budge. Her head was bowed as she tried to see what she was doing, but it wasn't doing much good, she couldn't see anything very well at such a close position. The cold had made her fingers numb and practically useless, but she kept trying and Spot didn't give a fraction of an inch.
"Let go dammit!" she swore looking up from her work briefly to glare at him and had intended to look back down at their entangled hands, but couldn't when she met his eyes.
He was so very much closer than she remembered him being before and he was watching her intently. A magnetic power was held in his intense gaze and she couldn't help but look back. Neither of them moved for a moment, and then before the chance passed, Spot began to lean in. Their hands were still tangled around Frost's necklace, as her eyes fluttered closed, unable to resist the kiss she knew was coming.
For the moments before his lips touched hers, she tried to remember why they couldn't do this. Of all the complication that it would bring, and all of the hurt it would entail. She tried to remember who this boy was, what he was, and that he was probably just using her. She tried to remember that he was just going to forget her just like the rest, and that she couldn't stay in New York long enough to have a relationship with him.
Gently, Spot brushed his mouth against Frost's as if testing her willingness. Against all of her will and her reasoning, Frost returned his gesture with her own and he stepped closer to her, wrapping one arm around her. Suddenly it wasn't cold anymore as fire spread through their bodies. This kiss didn't have the brute force that its precursor had, but it was just as passionate. It was painfully slow and soft that is only served to increase the ache of longing inside of them.
A million thoughts were running through each of their minds. Neither of them staying focused on any of them for long enough to process them correctly. Lights flashed behind their closed eyes and whatever logic they might have had left them. Leaving them completely to the mercy of their swirling emotions. It didn't matter that Spot's lips hurt, or all of warning bells that were ringing in Frost's mind, nothing mattered in those moments beside what was happening.
Somehow, through all of the jumbled thoughts and all of the shivers running up and down her spine, Frost was able to remember whom she was kissing. More importantly, she able to remember what he was. He was a boy that couldn't be trusted with her heart, and someone with whom she couldn't take this chance. Though she couldn't really pin the reason she had to pull away, she knew she had to, so she did.
"Let go," she said breathlessly, referring to her necklace that he still held firmly in his good hand.
"No," he responded, leaning in for another kiss and she was helpless to stop it. Though she pulled away again, quickly.
"Stop," she ordered shakily and he looked at her questioningly. "I'se can't do dis," she tried to put some distance between her body and his.
"Why not?" he stared into her eyes plainly and she felt her resolve weakening. He looked so open, so void of his normal masks of self-confident arrogance.
"Let go," she whispered and he didn't move. "Please, Spot, let me go."
"Why did he call yous Lois?" Spot changed subjects, still holding her close to him and she ducked her head slightly as his masks came back up.
Was that all the kisses had been? A way to extract information from her? She should have known better, she shouldn't have let him get that close. Inside she was seething but she was also incredibly sad. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she avoided his eyes. Why had she ever trusted him enough to let him hold her like this? It didn't matter now though, the kisses had done their job and resisting was useless. She was just so tired of trying to hold it all back.
"Dat's youah name, ain't it?" he prompted and she turned her profile to him, not answering. Her silence was as good as a yes in this case. "Whot's youah bruddah's name?" Spot asked tightening his arm around her waist slightly, enjoying the warmth her small body gave.
"Luke," she mumbled into the darkness and Spot was surprised at the ease to which she gave him information.
"An' why's he chasin' yous?" Spot prompted and her dark eyes flittered towards his as she turned her head back towards him.
"He wonts me necklace," she looked down as their hands that were still tangled around the golden cross.
"Why?" he whispered, as though asking for a great secret.
"Because," she looked up at him, pausing as she seemed to be debating whether or not to tell him. For a long while she let her words hand in the air before continuing her thought, Spot waited patiently, assured that she would tell. "Because," she said again, dropping her voice below a whisper. "It is a key."
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//If that's all you will be,
You'll be a waste of time,
You've dreamed a thousand dreams,
None seem to stick in your mind…//
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So came the change in leadership of the area of Manhattan. The outgoing Jack Kelly replaced the mysterious Cowboy Sullivan. Known as Cowboy by some of his closest friends. One of those friends was Spot Conlon. Though he only referred to Jack as his friend once, it had made a lasting impression on those around him. The word was not used lightly by the short leader of Brooklyn.
As it tends to do, time passed and the boys around him grew and some of them left, some of them stayed. Spot Conlon stayed as did his right-hand man, Outsider. While his companion grew tall and lean, Spot stayed shorter, but he held much more power than his counterpart. No one disputed his authority and rumors floated around of various heroic deeds that he had committed.
Perhaps they were heroic to the boys that starved for someone to idolize, but they were nothing but an assortment of petty crimes and theft. One thing was for sure, there was no one in Brooklyn as well known in the lower class children as the infamous Spot Conlon. The enigma that was Spot Conlon held the highest respect of many, and that is how he intended it to stay.
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//Love has a way,
Of making you stumble,
Making you fumble,
For the right words to say…//
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He let her go after she said that. The arm that had been coiled around her waist withdrew and the hand that had been clamped around her cross released. A key? What kind of answer was that, and did he even want to know? Of course he wanted to know, but he had sensed her withdraw after he she had answered and knew it would be futile to try and pry anything else out of her right then.
The warmth that her lean body had yielded left a painful void, as he stood in the cold, unable to fend off the biting iciness that surrounded him. Though she stood in the same place, he knew that there were walls between them now. The key that hung around his neck bit into his skin as the cold metal reminded him of his own key. Hanging around his neck was a real key, but how could that cross be a key?
Though it was clear that asking her questions would only prove a frustration, he had a million that he was desperate to ask. He hadn't spent several weeks with her not to know her behavior and that anything he asked would either come back as a different question, a cryptic answer, or a complete insult. This girl was the stone you couldn't squeeze blood from. One question remained, how could someone be so close, but seem so far away?
Frost was wondering the same thing because it wasn't just she that had pulled away it was he. Could there possibly be a similar reason for his withdraw? No, she had pulled away because of the intensity of the emotions that she had been feeling, that couldn't have been his reasoning. It was clear that he cared only for the information she could provide and the enjoyment he could gather from her pain. This realization made her draw father back into her self-constructed shell.
It hurt for both of them, but neither could say a word.
The damage had been done, while it might have seemed like a step forward in their relationship, it was at least ten backwards. Trust that had been shakily developed was being broken now as both of them held back what they really wanted to say. It hurt. A lot. The thing that neither of them knew was that they held the key to their relationship, they held the key to their love. They just had to accept it and then it would be free, but until they did that it would strangle them, killing them slowly.
Both held parts of the same key, but neither knew how to use it.
"It's cold," Frost said finally, wrapping her arms around herself. "And youah not weahin' a coat!" she laughed mechanically, trying to ease the tension in the situation, Spot didn't move. "We'se should go inside," she turned her body slightly towards the hatch and watched him carefully. His expression was the unreadable stone mask she had come to love and hate.
"Lois," Spot said softly and Frost's eyes met his.
There were so many swirling emotions behind those orbs that even in the pale moonlight, she could see he was confused. Inwardly she wished that she could ease his pain and just tell him everything, but she had trusted him with too much already. Now wasn't the time to offer her heart, for she was sure he would take it and break it like he had done so many times before. In the back of her mind a question echoed. If he doesn't care about me, why would he look like he was hurt?
"Yeah," she prompted, swallowing heavily for the question that she knew was to come.
"Youah bruddah," he paused as if collecting his thoughts. "Luke," he clarified and searched again. "He wonts youah necklace?" Spot asked the futile question, hoping for an answer and Frost stood silently for a moment.
"He wonts da key," she said and Spot was confused by her answer.
"Youah necklace is da key," he stated it more than asked.
"Luke wonts da key," she repeated and Spot scratched the back of his head with his good hand, trying to keep his body from shaking so violently.
"Whot'll he do ta get it?" Spot asked and a sad smile played on Frost's lips.
"Pro'ly kill me," she said it almost like an apology that she would have to tell him such an awful fact, but Spot wasn't surprised.
"Lois?" Spot asked again after a time of silence.
"Yeah Spot?" She asked, her voice strangely hopeful as her eyes met his again.
"I-" he paused and closed his eyes. "I-" he tried again but then opened his eyes and looked at her and something changed. It was barely anything at all, but it was a change and Frost's hopes fell. "I'se t'ink dat we'se should get inside," he said finally and Frost nodded, heading towards the hatch.
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//So tie me,
Around your neck,
And wear me,
Like a key…//
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Frost and Spot didn't talk at all as they returned to the bunkroom. In fact, Frost went straight to bed and stayed there for the rest of the night. Spot, on the other hand, was up late playing cards and listening to the others talk. Listening, he had found, was the greatest tool any leader could have. For while listening, one could find out much about those around him. Though his thoughts were absent and his attention wasn't truly devoted on the words swirling around him, he did pick up an interesting bit or two.
Mostly it was the latest gossip of the group. Who had switched selling spots, whom liked who, how much they had made. So on and so forth, but there was one bit of conversation that Spot perked up when he heard.
"Dere wos a man dat came up ta me taday an' looked at me real funny afore askin' me if I knew a goil named Lois," A girl named Spitfire claimed, wrinkling her nose as though offended by something like that. "I nevah knowed a goil named Lois in me life!"
"A man came up ta me an' asked me da same t'ing!" Spice exclaimed. "Did he have a patch ovah his eye?"
"Yeah!" Spitfire nodded vigorously.
"Wait, whot about dat man dat came in heah da oder day. Wosn't he lookin' foah a goil named Lois?" Outsider added his thoughts and Spot broke from his reverie to listen to the development of these words.
"Yeah," Ghost put in. "An' he had a patch ovah one eye," his brow wrinkled with confusion. "Whose Lois?"
"Any o' you goils named Lois?" Outsider asked the group around him and the females all shook their heads.
"Whot 'bout Frost?" Spitfire asked. "Don'cha t'ink we'se should ask her if she knows anyt'ing 'bout dis?" She proposed. "Aftah all, we ain't nevah had no trouble wit' dis afore she came heah," she pointed out and a murmur ran through the group.
"She don' know nuttin'," Spot spoke for the first time since he had joined the circle and every eye flew to him.
"Whot da ya mean, Spot?" Outsider asked his leader.
"Jus' whot I'se said," Spot looked at him indignantly. "She don' know nuttin'," he shrugged. "Even if she did, she ain't goin' ta be tellin' yous," he smirked and everyone was quiet for a moment.
"Yous pro'ly know bettah dan anybody," Outsider muttered. "Ya spend enough time wit' her," he added and Spot bristled.
"Whot's dat supposed ta mean?" Spot growled.
"Jus' whot I'se said," Outsider spoke out again his leader mimicking his own words. This was an unusually bold move, even for the second in command.
"Da goil wos causin' trouble," Spot pointed out. "I wos jus' makin' shuah she loyned da lesson she needed ta loin," he let a small smile play on his lips. "Dis goil loyned slowah dan most."
This answer seemed to satisfy the group and no one brought up the subject again. Whatever the mystery man wanted with whoever the strange Lois girl was didn't have anything to do with them, so they didn't care. So very typical of the human race, and Spot didn't say anything else for the rest of the conversation. One by one, the circle of talking heads grew smaller until it was simply Outsider and Spot.
"So dere ain't nuttin' wit' you an' Frost?" Outsider brought up suddenly and Spot looked at him sharply.
"I said dere ain't nuttin' afore," he narrowed his eyes. "Ya don' believe me?"
"Yous do spend alotta time wit' her," Outsider pointed out, after all, Spot was his friend.
"So I spend time wit' her an' dat means I'se likes her?" Spot arched his eyebrow.
"No, it's jus' dat…" Outsider drifted off and he looked at his friend. Spot didn't wait to hear his answer as he stood and headed towards his bunk. Now wasn't the time to talk about this, he didn't want to hear it and Outsider didn't want to be the one to tell him.
So they parted ways before any more toes could be stepped on and went to bed. In the darkness of the quiet bunkroom, Spot breathed out a long soft sigh as he closed his eyes. The weariness that filled his body was fully realized as he lay there in the silence of his comrades breathing. In his imagination he thought that he could hear Frost's breathing above the rest, but he knew it couldn't be so. The romantic idea was nothing more than that, an idea.
Behind his closed eyes he could still feel Frost's lips under his, the wild willingness and the excitement it had brought. Through all of the wonder and the terrifying feelings that the kiss had invoked, but she had pulled away. Why had she pulled away? She herself had said that you could kiss someone without motive or desire. Had that been the case with this?
Through all of these questions, Spot didn't realize one important factor. All he had to do was show that he cared for her, and she would be more than willing to answer anything he had to ask. All he had to do was use the key that he held in his hands. The key to her heart. A sad thing it was that Spot didn't know he had it, and even if he did, he had no idea how to use it.
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A/N: Even though this was a short tacky chapter, it marks the one hundred thousand-word count for this story. Dang, that is a lot of words for one stupid story. That is a 1 with 5 zeros. Maybe this is a hint to end this story soon? Like now? How does that sound? Sounds good to me, but then again I am sick so I am just in a bad mood in general. Anyway, enough of my complaining and onto the review board. I didn't get any reviews for my last chapter, but I had some from the one before that I didn't get to, so I will acknowledge those.
Fallen Phoenix: Well, well, well, I hope I left you on another cliffhanger. The whole thing is kind of coming into a wider perspective right now. How exciting! Well, the only cure for writer's block is to write. Even if you don't like what you write, it sometimes gets ideas flowing and the general idea for the plot started. Even if you absolutely hate what you wrote, you can always start over and use what you liked about the chapter and take out what you didn't like. Ah, the wonders of being about to select-delete on computers. [ smiles ] AO-hell that made me laugh. I've never heard that, but I am sure that some of my friends that use it would agree. ^_^ I thought it was funny that Spot punched a wall too, but it seemed to fit his character somehow. Brash, irrational when emotional, violent, and sometime just kind of stupid… but that is just like most men….
Red Cinnamon: Yep her brother, big ol' brother boy. Scary, I hope my brothers never end up like Frost's brother. [ Shudder ] Ha, ha, very lucky Frost to get to touch it! I want to touch it dang it! I hope you've enjoyed the updates. ^_^
Ireland O'Reily: So now that you are 16 do you get to drive? That is the question of the hour. I can't drive till I am seventeen. [ Mutters something about stupid family rules ] Well I figured you would see the whole family connection thing, but I knew no one would see it was her brother. Well I was pretty sure. Normally in the newsie fictions I read the siblings are "so close" because they bonded through their parents beating them… Well in this case it is different. Anyway, poor Frost is so unsure of how to actually care for someone as herself she is pushing the poor baby Spot away. Aw, don't be sad Spot, I'll take care of you! Well, he wouldn't want me to take care of him because I have this habit of um [ Cough ] beating him up. Your right, I do tend to smash him around quite a lot. [ Giggles ] Poor Spot. I am a terrible author to do that to him, oh well, blame the muses.
Kaylee: Jack Frost… ha, ha, she was Cowgirl in Manhattan, so that really doesn't matter. Poor Spot isn't too bright for hitting a wall, but he is still hot so that is all that matters, right? Yes, the scary eye patch boy is her brother, not Blink. I need to write a Manhattan fiction sometime… oh well. Anyway, thanks for the review. ^_^
Ali: Aw shucks, she loves my story. [ Draws pictures with the toe of her foot in the dirt, all embarrassed ] How sweet of you to say so. You are rooting for Spot and Frost? Well I am too, and I don't think Jack will ever catch up with her, but who knows what the muses have planned. They are strange. When I started this story I couldn't help but think how in the world am I going to keep them arguing through this story and not have them always fight the same argument? Well, somehow, I think I have always managed to find some different way to make them argue even if it boils down to the same Spot power trip thing. I'll try and keep this fiction going just for you! Update Oblivious again! I sound like a demanding idiot, I know, but I love it! There is so much I could say about it…. But for now I will just say this: I WANT MORE!aS
Rae Kelly: Well, welcome to the reader's circle on this fiction. As for the email you sent me, I think The Adventures of Doctor Spot Sounds like an interesting concept. Pursue it when you have the time. It seems that you have several stories out on the table that are yet to be finished, maybe you should do those first before moving on to more? Oh well, I just am not smart enough to have too many stories going on at one time. My poor little brain just can't handle it. Well, thanks for the review! ^_^ And which one of your stories should I start reading next?