"What the…" Spot was woken up by a large crashing sound that echoed up the stairs from the lobby. Shooting up into a sitting position he saw that while he had slept nightfall had crept in, the breeze blowing through his window had turned cool. Fumbling around for a match, he lit the gas lamp that sat by his bedside and rubbed a hand over his face.
His door opening and closing abruptly made him jump. Pokey stood against the door, a sheepish smile on her face. Raising an eyebrow, Spot stood up and stripped off his shirt and undershirt, replacing them with fresher ones. The Brooklyn newsies pooled together their money once a week to hire a woman to do their laundry and mend their clothing. If they didn't have the scratch, one of the newsie's girls would do it, although unwillingly.
"What the Hell was that Pokey and what time is it?" Pokey shrugged and made a face.
"It's around seven or so. Are you going out tonight?" When Spot nodded, Pokey smiled and as suddenly as she had entered, she exited. Spot didn't want to know what the hell she was up to, he really didn't. When he went downstairs, he stared around his lobby in disbelief. It was filled with sudsy water and bubbles.
Pokey, Bourbon, Pistol, Loon, and a tiny Newsie by the name of Monkey stood knee deep in the mess, guilty looks on their faces. Spot let out a deep breath and put a hand over his eyes willing himself to be patient. When he dropped the hand, all five gulped nervously for his sapphire eyes were glittering with anger.
"It's not as bad as it looks Spot," Pistol hastened to say. When he swung his glower at her, she grinned at him with a wink. Spot shook his head, and slammed his cabby hat on. Pointing at Pokey with his cane, he growled.
"I don't want to know what happened, I don't give a shit. Just make sure this place is clean by the time I get back, you hear?" They all nodded and he stalked out of the lodging house.
Once outside, he took a second to light up a cigarette. He cast his eyes in the direction of Harbor Street where he knew Racetrack and Misery would be at home. He contemplated stopping by there, then decided not to. They had moved to Brooklyn to be closer to Sheepshead. It was rare that he visited them at home. As much as he loved their company he felt like an intruder.
"Hey Spot!" Hearing a familiar cry, he turned his head slightly, a smile lighting up his lean face. Riddle was running down the sidewalk to catch up with him, two other Brooklyn newsies, Pick and Lynch jogging alongside. He knew then that tonight was going to be a fun night. They were all amongst the oldest of the newsies, and the toughest. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he spat into his hand and shook with all of them.
Pick rammed his hands into his pockets, a grin sliding easily across his face. He was tall, with red hair and blue eyes. His face was smattered with freckles and he was missing a front tooth. Pick was one of the best lock-pickers and pickpocket Brooklyn could boast of. Lynch was short and squat with blonde hair and gray eyes. He was missing an eye like Blink, but he was nowhere near as good looking as Blink could claim to be. His scar ran up past the top and bottom of his eye patch and it was puckered and dark pink.
"What say you boys? Medda's or Molly O's?" Riddle pretended that he had to think that one over while Pick guffawed at him disbelievingly.
"What is there to think about? I want to go to Molly O's; I need some company for the night," here he elbowed Lynch roughly; "If you know what I mean." Spot rolled his eyes and chuckled around his cigarette as they sauntered down the sidewalk towards the pub down by the docks.
Molly O's was a popular establishment for prostitutes to drum up business. Most of the sailors and fishermen went there as well as working class chumps looking for a drink and other things. Spot and his boys were always welcome at Molly's courtesy of his being, who else Spot Conlon. He had never felt the need to spend his money on the street walking girls. Why pay for something he could get for free? More often than not, he enjoyed drinking with them and flirting. But he liked his girls willing, not paid for.
Riddle put a hand on Spot's shoulder and waited for him to stop, Lynch and Pick continuing on. Spot looked at Riddle expectantly, the other boy's face shadowed even though the street lamps had already been lit. A horse clopped by, a man sitting on the wagon attached to it, bent slightly forward, shoulders rounded and hunched. The horse's hooves echoed in the night air.
"A man was lookin' for yah today. Said he was related to yah. I didn't believe him though and told him I had no idea who you was and sent him on his way." Spot was curious and more than slightly alarmed. He wondered what borough was starting trouble and why. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he started walking again, Riddle at his side, their voices pitched low.
"What did the scabbah look like?"
"Ah y'know, he was old but not like an old man. He had your color hair and eyes, and he wasn't dressed real nice. Looked like a bum, but he had money. I saw him pull a nice lookin' watch out of his pocket at one point." Spot thought long and hard. He couldn't remember for the life of him if his father or mother had had any family here in Brooklyn besides their parents who were long dead. He assumed that it was possible he had an aunt or an uncle running around.
"Well if they're after me for money, I sure as hell don't got any," he finally said with a laugh. It was forced, for he was worried, and he sensed that Riddle could tell that for he glanced at the Brooklyn leader for a moment before looking away, the dark hiding his facial expression.
Spot was thankful then for the loud music and light spilling out from the open entrance to Molly O's. Shoving their way inside, they blinked to adjust their eyes to the light before sitting down at the bar next to Lynch and Pick who already had glasses of ale sitting in front of them, and girls on their laps. Both boys raised their mugs in salute to Spot who just nodded and took his cap off, placing it on the bar in front of him.
"Spot! Welcome back me boyo!" Spot was suddenly encompassed in plump arms, his face shoved into an even plumper bosom that smelled of rosewater and cigarette smoke. When he was pulled away, he saw Molly O's smiling, chubby face beaming at him, her cheeks flushed, curly red hair all mussed up. Smoothing down his hair with a hand, he winked at the older woman who hollered for the bartender to get him a drink and keep 'em comin'.
"Where have ye been? I was worried sick." Spot smirked slightly. He had grown up with Molly acting as a surrogate mother, providing him with food and a warm place to sleep when he needed it. She had been the one to nurse him when he was sick and to teach him how to survive the streets, along with Sneak, the old Brooklyn leader.
He chatted with Molly for a bit longer until she flew away in a flurry of emerald skirts and red hair to berate a prostitute for trying to pick a man's pocket. He swore that Molly had eyes in the back of her head; she saw all and knew all. It wasn't long before he felt the familiar pressure of someone pressing up against him. Tilting his head and glancing over, he saw a short girl with masses of brown hair falling down her back. Cool gray eyes studied him and apparently found him to measure up for the girl flashed him a wicked smile.
"You interested in some company?" Spot felt a slow smile spread across his face. The girl was obviously new in town or else she wouldn't have wasted her time on him. She wore an ugly brown dress with a low neckline that revealed she was definitely feminine and not lacking in womanly attributes. Lighting up a cigarette he blew smoke just past her face and raised his eyebrows at her.
"You offerin' doll?" She quirked an eyebrow at him and took a seat on the stool next to him. Ordering a whiskey, she slapped the coins down onto the counter and cocked her head, a lock of hair falling against one rosy cheek.
"Yeah if you're paying." Spot burst into laughter, smoke pouring out of his nostrils. When he calmed down, wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes, he saw her still watching him, sipping calmly at her drink. Taking a deep drag off of his smoke, he shook his head.
"Sorry honey, I don't pay for something I can get for free."
"Oh is that right?"
"Yeah that's right."
Blue eyes met gray and neither said anything for a few moments. The girl, although looking unwilling to admit defeat, downed the rest of her whiskey, made a face and without a backward glance swaggered off to another man sitting with a few companions at a table.
Spot watched her go, admiring her figure and attitude before forgetting all about her and focusing on the drink at hand. It wasn't until later, when he and his boys stumbled out of Molly O's to head back to the lodging house that he ran into her again.
"I said, where's my damn money?" A slap resounded in the night air, almost drowned out by the music and noise still emanating from inside the bar. Spot wouldn't have heard it, if he hadn't fallen slightly behind the others to light up yet another cigarette. The whimper of pain and hissed breath made his head swivel and eyes narrow.
Stepping into the alleyway where he had heard the voices coming from, he saw a man standing over a crumpled figure laying on the dirty ground. The man was tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms with fists the size of cannon balls. He was trying to get the person on the ground to stand up, and he threatened them with a constant flow of curses that didn't stop even when Spot cleared his throat.
"Is there something wrong?" The man shot a murderous glance in Spot's direction, before sneering at him.
"Get out of here boy before I REALLY loose my temper." Spot smirked and hefted his cane into one hand.
"Do you know who I am?" The man spat onto the ground near Spot's feet, and Spot curled his lip at the gob of spittle.
"No, nor do I give a shit kid. Get out of here before I beat your ass when I'm done beating hers." Spot smiled gleefully and for an instant the man was taken aback.
"That's all I wanted to know," Spot said before leaping forward, and with a solid blow to the man's head, knocked him out on the spot. The man dropped like a stone to the ground, collapsing near the girl, who was hurriedly standing up.
Whirling around to face Spot, he recognized the girl from the pub earlier. Fury was alight in her eyes, and she let out a cry of anger before trying to rouse the fallen man.
"What did you do that for?" she screamed at Spot. Spot was slightly pissed off and slightly incredulous at the same time. Was this broad for real? He had just saved her from getting smacked around and she was acting all ungrateful. He said as much to her and she laughed bitterly.
"You just knocked out my pimp, tough guy thanks a lot. Now I'll have nobody looking out for me. Yeah he hit me, but at least he made sure the customers behaved themselves. Thanks, thanks SO much." With that, she swept by him, breaking into a run when he made as if to stop her.
Groggily stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shook his head warily and headed towards the lodging house. Crazy broad, crazy town. Even though he had slept away most of the afternoon after work, he was suddenly exhausted. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep. Catching up to where Riddle had waited for him, they walked back to the lodging house in silence. Spot knew Riddle wanted to know what had happened, but he brushed it off and went upstairs, not stopping until his head hit his pillow and he instantly succumbed to sleep.
A/N – Boy I need to stop ending my chapters with Spot going to sleep. I promise I won't do it in Chapter three…
Spot - snores
Shout Outs!!
My dog ate my penname – Any review is good, I don't care if they're short!
Spot: Woo I got glomped! ::shakes his butt::
NaughteeLady – Nope that wasn't it. There's more!
Cici – Nah I don't know if they had Sing Sing back then. I'm assuming they did because it's an old prison and if I'm right, a lot of the gangsters from the 1920's ended up there so maybe if it wasn't around then it will be soon. I'm glad you like it thank you! :D
Kays14 – I know it was all I could do to not have him end up with Misery, but I had made Racetrack so right for her too that I just did it that way. Yes Spot ends up with someone else. I suck. ::cries:: Yeah it's where 'Under my Thumb' left off, so it's sort of a sequel…
Spot: There, there. You calm down and concentrate on writin' about when I get some, I mean end up with someone…::evil grin::
JamieBell – I'm reading those other fanfics of yours and enjoying them, thanks for pointing them out. Hahaha…Spot sounds like a girl in Spanish!! :D
I honestly have no idea how I can come up with so many story lines. I think I just go through a bunch of fics and try to come up with a story plot that hasn't been done yet which leaves me with all the weird stories I write.
Nada Zimri – Hehe..I'm psychic. No I'm not really but wouldn't that be creepy/cool? I had to write my Spot story, he's just...so…Spot. Muahaha…Unky Spot. ::pinches Spot's cheeks::
Emotions – Yep it starts where 'Under My Thumb' left off so it IS a sequel to that story sort of. Yes Spot is heartbroken, but he won't be that way for long. He IS Spot Conlon after all.
Spot: ::winks at Emotions:: You got a tub with hot water? I might just take up on that offer….::leer::
Now now Spot…behave. I'm glad you like it and I'm updating more often hopefully!
Spot: Behave…boooo….borin'.