A/N: Forgive me for the absence! Soccer and school have gotten the better of me and I simply haven't found the time. But here I am, updating for you all to enjoy! Let's see where we were…Ah yes, Spot and Gabby were having a little bit of trouble in paradise after a little tiff at Spot's shop. Spot also had this wacked out dream and we learn he has been having them for a while now. Interesting, very interesting. Shall we proceed?

Oh, I would also like to apologize for the amount of error in the last chapter—it's not that I spelled things wrong terribly, there was just a lot of weird word structure! I went back and read it and I thought, was I on drugs or something? I'll be more careful in the future and watch the syntax!

It's custom for Spot Conlon and Jack Kelly to drown their sorrows in a bottle of rum after a bad day. Rent wasn't paid. Didn't get much sleep. Hard day at work. Shoelace broke. Weather was cloudy. Take your pick. Any little obstacle was cause for a need to feed the urge for a good a drink grumbling around in their stomachs.

"Things are gettin' worse," said Spot miserably. He sat in corner of a wooden booth and rain-covered window in the Edward Street Bar, and his feet stretched out so that no one would sit next to him. His hand held limply the bottle of dark rum on the table and the other hand pinched each side of his temple trying to work out a migraine.

"You an' Gabby?" inquired Jack Kelly. He tossed his head back in a swig of vodka and leaned his arm onto the table.

"Yeah. That an' ev'rything else that's fucked up right now." Spot straightened up and folded his arms so that his elbows sat droopily on the table. "We keep fightin' all the time. Just last week she came into the shop and we argued. I coulda gotten fired. An' last night Noah was cryin' and she got up to…I dunno, take care 'a him, and this morning she was mad at me for it. 'S bullshit."

"Thank god Sarah hasn't had one 'a those yet," said Jack in reference to a child. "I'm not sure I'd handle it."

Spot looked up at him weirdly and said flatly, "Thanks. That helps."

Jack shrugged it off and inhaled on his cigarette. He twirled his red bandana that he had had forever around his fingers, a habit he had picked up when things started to get gloomy. The bar seemed slower than usual, not quite as exciting. David had been gone for weeks, Skittery was out with some girl he had picked up days before, and Racetrack was working at O'Reilly's.

"Somethin' don't feel right eitha," said Spot.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Like there's somethin' I'm forgettin' about…It's been botherin' me fer a while. Somethin' don't seem to be sittin' good with me but I can't put my finger on it. And I keep havin' these dreams, I don't know what's goin' with 'em. It ain't normal, I can tell ya that." Spot brought his drink up to his lips and sighed. The liquid traveled slowly down to the pit of his stomach.

The bell above the bar's door rang and Spot noticed a girl enter out of his peripheral vision. She sat at the bar and Spot glanced at her quickly. She seemed as old as he was, but the makeup and tight-fitting clothing aged her at least five years.

"I'm not sure what ya mean," said Jack, confused, bringing Spot back. "Kinda like ya lost somethin' an' ya can't find it again? That whatcha mean?"

Spot squinted as he thought about it. "Lil' bit."

Jack furrowed his eyebrows and let out a long sigh. He dug around his pockets and left a few coins on the table. "I gotta get back home. Sarah's been kinda mad I've been goin' out so much."

Spot rolled his eyes to himself and mumbled an insult to Jack beneath his rum-soaked breath. Jack, with a tip of his cowboy hat, exited to the misty humid streets.

Spot slouched back against the booth and outstretched his legs underneath the table. He reached for the key around his neck, which had been there for as long as he could recall, but then remembered he had given it to Gabby some time ago. He did not know what made him think he didn't wear it anymore. Why did he give it to her in the first place? Oh, yeah: He loved her. But that was his key…

Was that what was missing? The thing that didn't feel right? He closed his eyes and imagined it around his neck again. Nope, wasn't it; he didn't feel an imagined rush of relief come to him.

The bottle was half empty and it stared back at him, begging to be consumed. Conlon gave in, not that he was ever strong-willed to pass up a drink. After an hour of contemplating life's deepest questions and spinning one of Jack's coins about the table, Spot decided it was time to get back home. He set his money down next to the blatantly empty bottle of rum and set his hat atop his aching head.

Just as he began to turn towards the doorway, a heavily made-up face came to his. It was light with charcoal around its brown, doe eyes, with a mess of light curls framing it. It was the girl he had seen earlier. She had a form of a smirk across her rich, red lips. Cherry red.

"Hi," the girl said in a breathy voice that seemed to swirl from the tip of her tongue all the way down to her buxom cleavage.

Cherries sounded good…

"Hi."

Gabby brushed her finger against Noah's soft, chubby cheek. He stared up at her from his crib, a string of drool forming on the corner of his mouth. Had she not seen this and cleaned it up on an hourly basis, she'd have thought this cute. Gabby simply sighed and wiped it away with his blanket. At least he's finally quiet, she thought. Noah had been fussy since the afternoon and it was nearing eight o'clock.

Hoping that her son would quietly slip into a peaceful slumber, Gabby tip-toed out of the room and plopped herself onto the couch. Her pale face gazed up at the ceiling and her eyes fluttered to a close. Her back ached from constantly carrying Noah, her eyes were hardly awake from the lack of sleep, and along her fingers were splinters from the table Spot had promised to clean up and never did.

Something inside her wanted to wait for Spot to get home; it was seldom that she was ever awake when he did arrive, so perhaps something different was in order for tonight. Gabby's will, however, had left her a long time ago; she still loved Spot more than anything, but her head kept telling her that she needed to get some sleep. Lots of it. So, with her eyelids preventing anything else from entering her mind, Gabby allowed herself a good night's sleep.

At ten o'clock, a twisted doorknob brought Gabby from her heavy rest and to an upright position. Spot had come home and was slowly shutting the door behind him as if he were sneaking in from doing something wrong. The two stared at each other for a brief moment.

"Ya're up," greeted Spot.

"Yes, I know," replied Gabby in an even tone. She got to her feet and rubbed her eyes. "Don't make noise. Noah's asleep."

Spot took off his shoes at the doorway while Gabby walked over to shut off the kitchen light. Gabby looked at Spot as he walked by. In the light provided, she noticed something very subtle that startled her.

"Spot."

"Hm?" He turned to face her with a blank, melancholy countenance. His eyes were so blazed it look as though he were staring into a fire.

Gabby's eyebrows furrowed immediately as she marched over to him. She took his face in her hands and looked at it thoroughly. Spot began misreading her signals, touching her hips and waist suggestively. Gabby turned his face to the side so that his left cheek was in full light. There it was.

A faint red smudge lay upon his cheek, screaming at her piercingly. Gabby gasped to herself and her heat sank deeply. Spot rubbed his fingers against her stomach, unaware of what happened. Gabby's heart sped as she checked his lips and other cheek, paying no heed to the stench of alcohol in her face. She scanned all the way down his neck, pulling open the top part of his shirt, finding one more smear close to his collarbone. She brought her nose to his skin and took in the slight essence of lavender.

Gabby's lower lip began to quiver and she dug her teeth into it. Believing the ultimate proof was in his kiss, for the ones they shared were always meaningful, she pressed her lips firmly against his. Spot responded with an awakened surprise and dove in deeper. Gabby waited out her test for a few seconds and pulled back. Suddenly the grip on her waist was not as tight. He did not seem as close.

She was about to break down, and worst of all, she was going to break down in his arms. Gabby stepped back, to the dislike of Spot, and turned out the light. Tears burned scalding hot in her eyes as she held her breath.

The distance could have been the entire earth that night as they lay shoulder to shoulder in the same bed. It was confirmed now. Absolute. They were slowly but surely growing apart and the forces driving them seemed unstoppable. Something was missing in Spot, and something huge was missing with Gabby as well.