Chapta Twenty

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.
A/N: Hahaha, more than 100 reviews. Cheers, people! More romance here, only this time, it's more like the kind of romance you'd expect from Spot. :)
The Next Day
"Spot!"

"Yeah?"

"Where did you put the sandwiches?"

"Over there."

"Where's that?"

"I don't know."

Natalie put her hands on her hips, annoyed. "How do you not know where you put them?"

"I forgot," Spot replied. He was playing with a piece of wood he found on the floor. Natalie snatched it from him and threw it away, causing him to tousle her hair until she pulled away, even more irritated.

The house was crazy. John, Natalie's father, had requested that Spot join him on a hunting trip to Prospect Park, back in Brooklyn, where they'd shoot the thanksgiving turkey. Spot knew that this was just something so he could 'bond' with the boy that was starting to become like a son.

Also, because of the thing he had with his daughter. A sudden change in Natalie's, and Spot's attitudes were raising suspicions. So, yeah. Spot would bet Race a million he was going to be reminded of rule number one.

He shuffled around lazily, until John pulled on his coat and motioned for him to come outside.

Later...
The forest was quiet.

Late fall brought a chill with it's winds, and Spot was grateful for the large, thick, heavy overcoat Natalie had granted him. He lay on his stomach, back up, in dead silence, with John laying next to him, peering over a bush and waiting for an unsuspecting bird. After about thirty minutes of this, they sat up, deciding no turkeys would come now, and started to unwrap and eat their sandwiches.

"So," said John, "Do you have an education?"

"Nah."

"What?"

"I don have one."

"Any boy that is courting my daughter ought to have some intelligence."

Spot froze, and there was quiet. "...Wha?" he asked, surprised.

John laughed, flicking his wrist and shaking his head. "I'm just kidding," he said, and Spot silently sighed, "I know you wouldn't do that."

Spot did not respond. How wrong he was.

Another few seconds of nothing, while John turned to fix his gun, before saying, "Because I think you know what would happen if you did, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So you don't need a reminder."

Spot grew annoyed. "No, I don," he said, refraining from what he wanted to say, "An' ya can stop worryin' if I love Natalie aw not. I don."

John stared at him, but before anyone could say anything else, he quickly turned to hear a gurgling noise - a turkey strutted out from the brush and began pecking at something on the ground. John aimed, then fired, and the turkey landed with a flop and a last, weak, gobble.

"You got one!" Natalie cried, standing at the door. Spot handed her the plucked and naked bird, and kissed the side of her head quickly, so it looked as though he were whispering something to her.

Natalie chuckled and carried the turkey inside, where she put it on the table and left it, her mother the one to do the stuffing and cooking and such. She climbed the stairs to the second floor, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. Spot was in the attic, and she heard the straw rustling around like he was some noisy animal.

"Spot?" she called.

"Yeah?"

"What did he tell you?"

The noise abruptly stopped, and his head peered down the stairwell towards her. There was silence.

"He said if we was goin' out, he'd kick me out."

Natalie sighed. She knew her dad would say something along those lines. "What'd you say?"

"I said we wasn't."

Another silence.

"Come down here."

Spot managed to pull himself out of the hay and climb down, straw sticking to him everywhere and falling before his feet. He reached the bottom of the stairs, and Natalie stared at him.

"You do like me, don't you, Spot?" she asked carefully, not wanting to tread into territory that wasn't hers.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"I don't know... It may be fast, but you don't seem to be showing it. This is just how it was a week ago, before there even was anything."

"...So whaddaya want me ta do bout it?" Spot asked suddenly, his voice taking on a husky tone and eyes gleaming with seduction. You have to remember what Race had said - Spot went crazy if he had a crush, slept with the poor girl, and then walked away. That was it. And now, something in the back of his mind was begging him, "Just this one more person, please?"

Spot shook the though out of his head. They had only been going out for two friggin days! But he wasn't one to put up with naughty impulses, especially when he had shacked up with the one they were about... most of the time.

Natalie leaned against the wooden headboard, putting all her weight onto her shoulders, and stared at him.

"I don't know," she said, looking out the window, before returning to his gaze.

In a sudden movement, he let it go - the nasty urges he had been having all day. He sprang foward, and Natalie instinctively put her hands up, and he caught them, holding her hands above her head and gazing at her. Her eyes reflected surprise, but that was okay - in two seconds, he pushed her down onto her bed and pounced, kissing her intensely.

For the first few moments, Natalie did not open her mouth - she didn't know what had been coming and was thrown off all together. But she recuperated, and kissed him back, trying to make as little noise as possible. Spot's weight was on top of her, having straddled her, and he was surprisingly heavy for someone of his size... But then again, big things come in small packages.

Spot continued to kiss her forcefully, with a hidden lust that was only just beginning to revel itself. His hands pressed into her shoulders, holding her down, and his tongue traced every corner of her mouth, and finally, he let his hands slide down and they rested on her waist.

She shook her head abruptly, and he sat up.

"...Wha...What do you think you're doing!" she cried breathlessly, wiping sweat off her forehead. Spot pulled himself off of her and shrugged.

She was still panting. "If... If my parents found out, do you know what would happen?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you just...!"

"Ya asted me ta show ya I cared."

She could not argue with this, but there was no harm in trying.

"Be reasonable! Even if my parent's wouldn't give you the boot, do you know the reputation I'd get!"

"Somethin' along da lines o' Spot's ho."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Well, yeah..."

Neither of them spoke a word for a while, until Spot got off the bed and went to sit on the rocking chair. Natalie did not move, and, oddly, felt a little guilty - he was just being a boy, or, more likely, a teenager, and she had asked for it. Seeing his downcast and crestfallen face, she too stepped off the bed, came up on his left, and kneeled down. Spot did not look at her, too embarrassed of his own actions to notice she had approached him.

"...Spot?"

"..."

Natalie stroked his hair, making him turn slightly to face her.

"Not now," she said gently, "Maybe someday, but not now. I need to know you better."

The only sound was the rocking chair creaking slowly back and forth, and it was cut sharply as Spot leaned over and wrapped his arms around her neck in an apology.

A/N: R & R!