(AN: Hello. Hope everyone is enjoying the updates. Some background history…Spot Conlon was actually a real person. He was District Master Work Boy of the Brooklyn Union. Just some interesting history for you.)

Of Life, Love, and Laughter By CiCi

'Come in please.' 'Come in please.' 'Come in please.' The words seem to echo in Spots mind. Those simple words filled him with dread. He kept his face blank as he walked into the main hall. He was met with complete silence. The only other person in the room it seemed was the butler.

"Follow me if you please." The butlers' crisp words cut the deathly silence that seemed to overtake him.

He followed the older man through different corridors to a closed door.

"This will be your room for the next month. Enjoy."

The butler opened the door and let the younger walk in. The door was abruptly shut. Spot turned back around, almost colliding with the door. Grumbling he picked up his stuff and walked over to the bed. He slowly undid the ties on his shoes and slipped them off. The worn and dirty shoes looked as if it had no place in the room, as if they didn't belong. Which, they didn't. He didn't. Nothing that he owned nor he himself belonged in this place. Everything was too grand, too expensive. He wanted out. He felt caged. He hadn't been here, but five minutes. What was it going to feel like for a whole month? Hopefully not like this caged feeling he had. He wasn't one to be locked up. He had always been free. His mother even told him that he was a free spirit. Nothing could change that. The item around his neck was a symbol of his freedom. You wouldn't know that though without knowing the history behind it. His mother had given it to him when he was 10. He was recovering from a very nasty beating from his father, when she gave him a hug and put something in his coat pocket. His hand succumbed to darkness as he pulled something out of its deep tresses. It was a key on a brand new piece of twill. He looked up into his mothers' vast blue eyes and asked what this was.

"Benny, this is the key to your freedom. You can come and go as you please. It's the key to the front door. Now go on Benjamin Conlon before I take it back and never let you step out of this house again."

A knock on the majestically carved wooden door pulled him out of his memories. He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. It read 8:45. He didn't realize it was that late. With a cautious eye he opened the door to find the butler again. The butler motioned for him to walk with him. He had no idea where he was headed.

"Hey, so wat do ya do?" Spot asked trying to make small conversation.

"Sir?"

"I mean wat's ya job?" Spot asked again as they reached a door leading to the unknown.

"I buttle, Sir." He replied as he opened the door.

Spot walked in through the door. He turned back around to face the butler to ask him what buttle was when the door was shut in his face once again. He turned around to face the other occupant in the room. An average heightened man was sitting on a brown leather chair. Smoke was billowing around his head, from a pipe that was dangling between his thin lips. A few lines were seen on his face, not enough to classify him as old, but enough to know that he was always under a lot of stress. He had blue eyes and dirty blonde hair parted on the side of his head signaling that he was a clean-cut man. The sleeves of his white collared shirt were rolled up to his elbows and in his hand was a glass of some type of alcohol. With closer inspection and observation of a half empty bottle of liquor on a desk, it was most certainly brandy.

"You must be the…newsie that will be staying in my home for the next month. Sit down." The man said offering a seat to the youth.

"Naw, dat's okay. Ise will stand." The younger said.

"Okay, now you listen to me. One toe out of line and I will have you in the refuge before you could say your own name. You will dress accordingly to the occasion. I don't care what you wear around here, but you will not go out I that," he said pointing to the clothes the boy was wearing, "I expect respect and I will receive no less than that. You will stay away from my daughters and my wife unless asked. I don't want to hear anything about you from them. Do I make my self clear?"

"Crystal." Spot growled out.

"Come with me. You are to meet the children and my wife."

Spot followed the older man out into the main hall where the stairs where located.

"Cecilia, Coriander, Norma. Come down here please. I want you to meet the…new addition to our family."

Spot took his hat off slowly, almost lazily, to show respect to the nobles that were descending toward him. A woman in her mid forties was first in line. Second was a little girl about seven or eight, Spot concluded.

"So this is the young man who will spend the next month with us. I'm Cecilia dear boy and this is one of my daughters, Norma." Said the older woman gesturing to the little girl that was behind her.

"I want to be referred as Miss Norma Jean." The little girl said haughtily, sticking her hand out as if she was waiting for it to be kissed.

Spot rolled his eyes, but seeing a pointed look from Mr. Gates, Spot took a hold of the little girls' hand and kissed it.

"Where is that girl?" Mr. Gates abruptly boomed out, turning to the stairs, "Coriander! Coriander! Where are you? You blasted girl, come here this instant!"

A girl about sixteen hurriedly jogged down the stairs. Her hand was on the banister and her eyes were downcast. Her eyes glanced up to her mother. Her mother gave a glare. The girl rolled her eyes. She stopped jogging and took the rest of the stairs gracefully with one hand holding up her skirts and the other firmly on the banister. Once down, she walked gracefully to Spot with her nose up in the air.

"I am Coriander Gates, but you will refer to me as Miss Gates." The girl said, as if she was better than him.

Spot, getting tired of his façade, dropped his humble demeanor and burst out with a string of words.

"Look missy, I ain't one to be pushed around! Now you'se all see heah, I ain't callin' any of you'se anything, but youah foist name!" He hissed with contempt.

Spot stalked out of the grand hall never turning around to look at the family. He supposed they were still frozen with shock. He walked down a long hall that he thought took him to his room. With his frustration he missed his door and headed straight and turned right to another hall then a direct left. With another left and another right, he was certain he was lost. He tried back tracking, but that only got him lost further he concluded. He sighed and slid down the wall to tired to go any further. The youth ducked down his head and covered his face with his cap. He was certain that he was to sleep here tonight. 'God dose people ah gonna be da end a me.' Was his last thought before darkness enclosed him.

Coriander stalked through the halls of her grand mansion. She was on a mission. She had to find that boy. Not that she wanted to though, her father was making her. After recovering from the shock of being told off by a lowly third class peasant her father demanded that she and him would go out and find him before he could do any damage to the house. Her father insisted that it would be only them two to go find him for Norma was too young to go through the elaborate halls she would either tire out too quickly or lose her way. Oh yes, she would find her way fine in the daylight, but at night it would be too hard for her. And Coriander's mother was a lady and real ladies don't go gallivanting around in the house during the night. So her father and her were left to do the dirty work. Their maids and butler had already retired for the night and her father did not want to disturb them. Her thoughts turned to her father. 'I bet he is already in bed by now. Not caring one bit that I'm alone in this house with a dirty newsboy who probably wants to...' her thoughts were suddenly cut off as she almost stumbled over an asleep body in the hallway. She hesitantly kicked his foot. Seeing as she had no response she carefully lifted his hat off his face only to be met by his angered grey eyes. With a yell of surprise she hopped back. With his eyes still on her he stretched out of the uncomfortable position he was in and got up slowly.

"Whaddya tink youse was doin? I was sleepin heah!" The boy snapped.

"Now you just wait a minute! I deprive my self of sleep to go find your lost self and your not even thankful? My God! At least you could say thank you!" She ranted at the boy.

"Look heah, I don't say thanks ta no one! Now show me ta my room!" He demanded.

"Fine!"

She stalked off to his room her body fueled by anger. He dragged his feet after her trying hard to keep up with her pace. After a few minutes though it seemed as if her temper had cooled and she walked at a leisurely pace. After going down a few more corridors she stopped at a room and opened the door for the boy.

"This is your room. Enjoy. Oh there's one thing that I want to know."

He looked at her questioningly.

"What is your name?"

One word was all she got.

"Spot."

He turned and strode into his room to settle down for the night.

"Spot." She whispered as if testing it on her tongue.

She furrowed her eyebrows as if in question about the name. She shrugged her shoulders and turned to the left to go find her own bedroom so she could fall asleep her self. It had been a long night.