Author: Brooklyn Oracle
Genre: Romance/Drama and Fiction
Setting: 1900's in New York
Summary: Spot and West get into a HUGE fight. West leaves for Manhattan and tries to take her friend, Kennedy, with her. Kennedy refuses and stays in Brooklyn. West starts to date Jack even though she knows that she'll ALWAYS love Spot. Spot gets jealous of her dating HIS best friend, so HE starts dating HER best friend. AND! - In the middle of all this chaos a mysterious person from the "Joel's" past arrives!
A/N: These characters belong to Disney© Incorporate. (I wish I owned Spot! ) Please do not plagiarize! I do not own any of the characters except for West/Kate Turner, Blue/Aaron Turner, Crest, Snaps/Chris Turner, Trey Turner, Helena Turner, Heath Conlon, Joel Conlon, Tina Conlon, Joel/Spot's mother, Kinks, Leg, Morey, Paw, Spinner, South, Ready, Quickie, and Tinge, Mel's Diner, and Kennedy Shefford/Stripes, Sage D'Ancanto/Demure.
Thank you: Thanks to Mister B. who made us watch this movie in music class. Thanks to my family, friends, and many others for supporting me. Thanks to Gabriel Damon for being so darn good looking and for inspiring me to write about this character. Thanks to everyone. Please give me feedback! Also thanks to "Stripes" and "Demure" for letting me use them in my story!
Chapter 5
Spot stormed into the lodging house, full of vicious rage. He slammed the door, hoping no one would disturb him, when he heard a featherweight knock on the entrance.
"What kin ya possibly want now?" he spitefully asked the unknown person behind the halfway-opened door. A brunette head poked in innocently.
"Umm… Spot, it's me, Stripes. Kin I… umm… come in?" Her heart drummed more rapidly as his icy blue glower landed on her soft cinnamon eyes.
"Ya know, youse is da one who started all o' dis. I shouldn't even be lettin' ya in my Lodgin' House!" he established, gritting his teeth.
"I know. I'm so sawry. I didn't mean what I said back dere. She's a good goil an' I guess I jus'…" she deliberated.
"Yeah? Ya don't even know her! Well, now she's gone no thanks ta you. Da one poison in my life dat I truly evah loved is gone. How do ya think I'm gonna deal wit dat?" Stripes stared down at an imaginary speck on the floor and shuffled her feet. Then she mumbled something inarticulate and tried to untangle an invisible knot in her shoulder-length chestnut hair. "What'd ya say ta me?" She looked up at him, matching the intensity of Spot's glare.
"I said, 'Youse is bettah off without her anyway!'" Stripes exclaimed vehemently.
"Wha'd ya mean, 'bettah off without her?' She was everything to me -no, she was my everything. Now she's left me!"
"See? Ya've gone soft on us- all of us. Even Queens hoid about your 'change.' That's what I wanted to talk about." Spot looked confused. Stripes' eyes looked sad for a moment and sat down on Spot's bed. The aged mattress slouched under her weight and squeaked. "There's been news. News I hoid." Spot crossed his arms over his chest and stood with one raised eyebrow.
"Really? Well, now, I wondah how I didn't heah dis from my lil boidies from all ovah."
"It's 'cause dey was all too scared ta tell ya." He fumed and groaned.
"Tell me what, exactly?" Stripes twiddled her thumbs and looked up tentatively. Spot's cold blue eyes were boring into her head, always seeking the truth. Of course she couldn't hide it from him. Who could? Stripes knew how lucky West was from that moment on.
"When Jimmy hoid dat youse gone soft 'cause o' your goil, he thought it a poifect opportunity to take ovah Brooklyn. Ya know, 'cause everyone knows, dat Brooklyn is da most powahful borough in all o' New York, right?" Spot nodded, smirked and told her to keep on going; his ego never failed him. "He figured dat he would send someone ta corrupt everythin', get on da inside-dat poison was me. 'Cept, when Ise got heah, youse all saved me life, an' I could nevah do anythin' to someone dat I owed so much to. Plus you were cute." She gave him her best irresistible smile and winked, but Spot Conlon was not smiling back.
"It was moah Jacky-boy savin' ya den us," he stated, knowing he was right.
"So I couldn't do it. I've been plannin' all dis time. An' I was supposed ta turn ya inta da ruthless, cruel, man ya used ta be. Everythin' went as planned an' everythin', but when West left, you gave a diff'rent reaction den what I thought. Foist of all, I could actually see your reaction,' she laughed sardonically. "Well, anyway, I jus' came ta ask for your forgiveness. I guess I should be goin' now, seein' as how you're upset wit me an' all." Stripes stood up and her eyes locked with Spot's. She looked away abruptly, embarrassed, and reached for the door handle. Before she got an opportunity to turn it, a larger palm came down on top of Stripes', preventing her from twisting the knob. She glanced up into azure eyes and she felt goosebumps rise along her arms and her cheeks turning pink as Spot moved closer. As he closed the space in between them, Spot inched his face nearer to the younger girl's and he whispered into her ear.
"You're forgiven." She smiled and he kissed her softly on the mouth and stood back. Stripes let herself out of the leader's room and headed to the sick bay where she was staying. She closed the door behind her and leaned upon it, tilting her head back. She closed her eyes and sighed. The slowly, a sly smirk crawled across her face and her deceiving eyes glittered in the candlelight.
West Turner came down the old wooden stairs of the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House with red, puffy eyes. She sniffed and looked around. Everyone had gone to Tibby's Diner for dinner except for Jack Kelly and Racetrack Higgins, who were waiting for her. Race peered up from lighting his cigar and took a long draught of smoke into his lungs. The short Italian boy looked over to the taller brown-haired boy and exhaled. Jack gave West an once-over and cleared his throat.
"Umm… so, West, do ya mind tellin' us what all dis 'corruption' is? 'Cause me an' Race, wese a bit confused a da moment." She snuffled again and nodded her head solemnly.
"Ya, shoah. But on one condition, 'Kay?" She wiped her eyes on her sleeves of Spot's shirt and breathed in. Her eyes started to water again, so Jack pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
"Whatevah youse want," Race replied. West tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
"I don't want to see Spot Conlon ever when I'm heah." Race and Jack looked at each other. Jack put a supportive hand around his friend's shoulders. He was starting to see her in a whole different light ever since she ran into his Lodging House crying.
"You know he's gonna come lookin' fer ya, right?"
"Yeah, I know," West said dejectedly as the three friends walked to dinner in silence.
Racetrack, Jack, and West walked into Tibby's with pretend grins on their faces. All of the Manhattan Newsboys were there. From Skittery to Snipeshooter, and from Bumlets to Mush, these newsies were a diverse group of boys. They had also just received a girl newsie who was only seven, but utterly adorable and darling.
"Hey, everybody! It's da infamous West Toinah!" West blushed and glared at Mush, a curly haired boy with big brown eyes.
"Ah, shut your mouth, Mush. It's not like you ain't infamous eithah… fer datin' a different goil every week!"
"Oohhhh…" the whole restaurant taunted as the playful banter went on for a few more minutes. The three were finally seated and the food came.
"So, umm, West… wheah's Spot on dis lovely evenin'?" Crutchy asked. West laughed and brushed her black hair out of her eyes.
"I have a feelin' ha won't be comin' 'round heah no moah… git what I'm sayin', Crutch?" Race replied, elbowing the skinny boy with a little more power than you're supposed to nudge an impaired person with. Crutchy obviously didn't get it when he looked at them blankly.
"Why not? Wheah is da notorious Spot Conlon goin' fer poker night den?" All eyes turned to West.
"Ise left him… in Brooklyn." The diner went into a sudden uproar and questions got piled onto the petite girl like a load of bricks.
"Why'd you leave him?"
"What happened?"
"If he did anythin' ta hoit ya, I'll…"
"You ain't gonna git your hands on 'im! Not if I git ta him foist!" West's head was spinning out of control. Jack peered at her through the mass of yelling bodies and stood on the table.
"Would y'all jus' SHUDDUP!" The whole room got silent and Jack sighed. "West'll tell ya what happened if y'all jus' sit down an' ask 'er one question at a time," he said, catching the grateful look on her face. "All Ise knows is dat she came inta da Lodgin' House today from Brooklyn, in da snow, mind you, cryin' her poor eyes out. Now you all need ta show a lil respect to da lady. She's been through hell an' back today." They began around the room, pointing to people who had their hands raised. As she told her tragedy, boys were starting to shout things like, 'I'll git him fer ya!' 'Ise get Stripes aftah Spot's done usin' her!' or 'Ise gonna punch his face in!' After finishing her affliction, she told the newsies that they didn't need to do anything to Spot or Stripes, because there was nothing they could do-the damage had already been done. Her only request was that she was not to see anyone from Brooklyn unless it was her brother, Snaps, or Tinge.
Everyone walked in a big group around her, being extra careful not to mention the Brooklyn Leader in any of their conversations. That challenge made it very difficult to talk about anything, so they all remained in an awkward silence. The quiet was so loud that it sounded like an ocean roaring into their ears. Finally, West couldn't take it anymore and spoke.
"You guys don't gotta wait fer me, go on ahead!" she said with a fake grin that turned into a grimace.
"Youse gonna be alright?" Race asked.
"Yeah, jus' fine. Now go!" They both laughed and Race ran off to join the others, leaving footprints in the fresh snow.
"Hey, Skits! Wait up!" West giggled and felt a hand hold hers. Despite the cold, she warmed up immediately. She looked up into chocolate eyes and a charming smile instead of blue eyes and a cunning smirk.
"Did Race jus' run out on ya?" Jack said jokingly, tipping his cowboy hat to her. West pouted.
"Yep. Now Ise gotta walk ta Pokah Night at da Lodgin' House all by me lonesome!"
"Not anymore, ya don't." West stopped and imitated to look confused at Jack.
"What are ya talkin' 'bout, Kelly?"
"Ise sayin', ya don't gotta be alone in all o' dis, West."
"I know. I got you, me family, the boys, an' some o' Brooklyn." West knew that's not what he meant, but she wanted to avoid the subject. Jack gazed at her seriously this time and exhaled.
"Look, Ise want ya to be my goil." West cringed at the words. "I know it's fast an' all, but when I saw you runnin' inta my Lodgin' House wit snow blowin' around ya, I knew I had to help ya. I've liked you fer a long time, but I didn't go fer ya, 'cause I knew Spot would butcher me. But now you're outta his grasp, an' I don't wanna loose da opportunity."
"I dunno if Ise ready yet, Jack. An' I don't see how dis is gonna help eithah." Jack hung his head. "Ya know I'd still love Spot even if I was your goil, right?"
"Yeah… but Ise jus' wanna see what Spot gets that makes him gloat. What you feel like. What he's done to deserve you." West was truly touched.
"I'll have to think on that, Cowboy." Jack nodded.
"Well, let's go den!" The two walked hand-in-hand, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched.
A girl with red hair and a freckled face ran down the alleyway and stopped in front of a shadowed figure. Her breath was coming out in puffs of smoke from the chilly air.
"So, what do ya have fer me, Miss Irish Flame?" the man said in a smooth voice. The girl smirked and held her coat tighter to her.
"Don't Ah get a hello er somethin'?" Flame asked, a playful frown coming across her tan face.
"No, but ya git my thanks aftah ya tell me what I want ta know, Edana" he replied, using her true Irish name. She harrumphed and put her arms on her hips.
" Och, here's Spot Conlon-leadah o' Brooklyn. He's the man wid da biggest fame, attetude, terretory, an' ego in all o' New York."
"You got dat right, now spill." Spot stepped out into the luminescence. He had his undershirt unbuttoned halfway under his jacket and his hair was tousled. He had obviously been drinking a bit too much, but not enough to be severely drunk. Spot Conlon was arrogant, but smart, and he knew when and where his limits were. True, he stepped over them at some points, but he always sorted them right.
"Ah saw yer lass and that Kelly character talking on the way back tae the Lodging House. Jack asked her tae be his girl even though he knows she'll always love ye. Isn't that romantic?" Spot snorted and rolled his eyes.
"She kin love me all she wants, but I don't love her. I got me a new goil anyway," Spot growled.
"Spot, stop kidding yerself. Ye love 'er an' ye always will." Flame started to walk away and Spot had to jog to catch up to her.
"No, really! I got a new goil. You two would get along just grandly. Her name's Stripes. She got her nickname from all her different color moods," he laughed and Flame slowed down to walk along with him. "You are a lot like your brothah, ya know dat?" Now it was Flame's turn to roll her emerald eyes.
"Ye always say I'm so much like Flicker. But just by looks-Nae by anythin' else. If I were Flicker, I wouldn't have given up Manhattan tae Jack." They walked in a comfortable silence for a while until Flame broke it with her light Irish accent. "Ye two are gan tae kill each other by doing this, ye know, me lad."
"What're ya goin' on 'bout now?"
"Ye and Stripes, West an' Kelly. Et's like you're both doing et on purpose. If I know anythin', et's matters of the heart. An' Ah kin tell ye this: Whatever each of ye is tryin' tae do, et will nae work."
"Neithah of us are tryin' ta do anythin'!" They reached the Brooklyn doors and Spot shook his informant's hand, at the same time giving her two pennies. "Thanks, boidie. Find out anythin' else, ya tell me, okay?" Flame nodded and headed back to Battery in Manhattan. "Well, at least I don't think any o' us are tryin' ta do anythin'…" Spot mumbled when the Irish girl was out of sight. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag and exhaled slowly. He sauntered to the door and tossed it open, allowing it to shut loudly. Everyone's head popped up, knowing what was about to happen. Stripes casually walked up to him and kissed his cheek with a grin.
"Saddle up, boys. Wese goin' ta Manhattan ta play us some Pokah."
A/N: Hey you guys! Read and Review! BTW, Battery in Manhattan is a small borough on Manhattan Island. The Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, and Manhattan are the actual MAJOR boroughs of New York. Irish Flame's real name, Edana means 'flame' in Irish Gaelic. I tried to get her accent right, but you know how it is. Hope you liked it!
Check out my other stories too!
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