Until Tomorrow

Chapter 9:

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, I just love them! Don't sue me....

Author's Note: No brownies for me. I've had so much on my plate and I've been having server writer's block with this story. So if this chapter sucks, I apologize. Thanks for reviewing.

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General POV

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Spot woke up with Race in his arms. He looked toward the window to see the sun bleeding across the sky. He looked back at Race and kissed him softly on the cheek, "Race, wake up."

Race grumbled and turned over to see Spot's eyes smiling at him, "Spot it's early...five moah minutes..."

"Fifteen more minutes and the rest of the guys will be up and all the hot wadah will be gone."

Race just stared at Spot contemplating whether to move or not. Hot water or sleep, hot water or sleep.... "Fine..."

"Com'on." Spot got out of bed and headed down the stairs. A very exhausted Racetrack followed him to the washroom. About ten minutes later the two were dressed and heading out the door with Tack.

"So whyda think Harlem's fucking wid us Spot?" Tack asked while eating an apple he stole.

Spot shrugged and trudged forward. The truth was he had a slight idea why Blade was messing with him. But the incident happened during the strike.... "...stop soaking the scabs." Spot rebutted Jack and was paying attention to him when something caught his eye. Blade, the leader of the Harlem newsies, was flirting with Sarah Jacobs. Cowboys girl. Spot could tell Blade was drunk and saw that he kept drinking during the rally. At the moment he was smashed out his mind. And he kept flirting with Sarah and she didn't look too thrilled with the fact that Blade was hitting on her. Spot answered Jack's question and got off stage when Medda came on. While Medda was singing Spot pulled Blade to the side, "What'd you think yoah doin' Blade?"

"I'se jistttt...havin' myself a good time Spottie..."

"Blade dat goil dere is Jack's goil. I don't think that ya want Jacky mad at yah foah hittin' on his goil."

"Conlon calm down...Jacky won't mind..."

"Yeah, he will. Blade ya drunk. Go home."

"Fuck you Conlon I ain't drunk...I'se fine..I've only had foah beersssss..."

"Blade ya drunk." Spot said with a little more anger in his voice.

"Fuck you'se Conlon..." Blade pushed Spot and Spot pushed him back, causing him to fall down, "Back off."

The two scowled at each other and Blade pulled out a knife. He got up to his feet and charged towards Spot. Spot moved to the side and punched Blade in the arm. The punch was meant to knock the knife out of his arm but it didn't work. Blade slashed at Spot furiously but drunkenly. Spot tripped Blade to the ground and kicked the knife out of Blade's hand. He sat on top of Blade holding his arms down.

"Listen ta me Blade. Listen good. Don't fuck wid me, or wid Kelly, or wid any of my friends goils.. You're drunk outa your mind. Go the fuck home."

Spot got off and Blade staggered out the door with a look of murder on his face. "I'se gonna git you back for dis Conlon. Mark my fuckin' woids I will."