It had been three months since the charming street girl, Laces, had turned into the elegant lady of society, Audrey. Four months ago Laces had watched the love of her young life and the only brother she had ever known leave the city of New York indefinitely. It had been almost six years since Audrey met Spot and Laces met Jack. Almost six years ago that the broken scandal torn child Audrey had turned into the mysteriously intoxicating young Laces. Audrey Alexander Kai had never had a peaceful life, at least not one she could remember.
But in this moment, under the pale fall moon that was almost visible in the city's night sky Laces felt an eerily sense of calm. She knew it was nearing midnight, a time she had learned to love in New York City maybe from the dreamer Jack Kelly or maybe from her countless nights on the rooftops of the lodging house. It was quieter on the back steps of the small garden of the Longfellow Estate near Fifth Avenue than it had ever been on Duane Street or in Brooklyn Heights. Casey Longfellow had gone to bed hours ago and Thomas Longfellow remained patiently awake waiting for his ward to find her way to bed. Laces could sense Thomas waiting for her, hovering near his study window carefully glancing out to assure himself she was still on the steps. He wouldn't impose or demand for her to come inside, not like Casey, Thomas would wait for her to be ready to come inside.
Laces pulled the ragged quilt she had tugged out with her around her shoulders, closed her eyes and leaned against the iron railing of the steps. She sat curled into her own torso and her arms tightly wrapped around her knees. She just needed a moment, a time of the day not at the wedding, a time when she was alone. She heaved in a deep, quivering breath and inhaled the recognizable scent of power and cockiness with just the slightest hint of trepidation.
"Conlon." Laces sighed without opening her eyes. She could feel the warmth of Spot Conlon standing behind her, his knees close enough to her ear to hit her shoulder if he decided to bounce up and down. Without opening her eyes, Laces knew Spot was shuffling his feet as she listened to the grinding of tiny stones from the brick against his wood soles. A smile crept to her dimple her right cheek as she counted down to the coughing she knew Spot would resort to next.
Spot Conlon did dramatically cough as he looked down at Laces. The young woman didn't open her eyes though, not even for the cough. She merely leaned her head further into the iron railing and tilted her chin up. In the moonlight, if Spot Conlon didn't know better he might have believed Audrey Alexander Kai was at peace.
"What you doing out here?' Spot finally asked. He settled down to sit next to Laces, close enough that Audrey could feel his elbow rise to light the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Laces opened her eyes, blinking as the smoke from Spot's cigarette hit her eyes.
"Thinking." Laces smiled at the wrinkles that formed on Spot's forehead. Spot had never been one much for thinking or even dreaming that was always something best left to others.
"Thinking about what?" Spot asked wearily of her answer before hearing it. Laces pressed her left palm into her left cheek, letting the warmth spread on her rapidly cooling face. Spot noticed the movement and held out his cigarette for her as he scooted closer to her.
"Just thinking." Laces instinctively took the cigarette and pressed it between her two thumbs, letting the heat of the tiny bud radiate into her hands.
"About who?" Spot tried to suppress his scoffing.
"What is the west like?" Laces lifted her chin and looked up at the moon. Spot rolled his eyes as he carefully tucked the quilt tighter around Laces shoulders and snatched back his cigarette.
"Empty." Spot responded. Laces smiled, she hadn't expected Spot to describe the majestic nature of the west as Jack might.
"Empty?" Laces pushed her chin into her chest. The swinging of her chin pulled the chain around her neck and Spot caught sight of a sparkling key.
"You want to be talking to Jack?" Spot frowned at the key dangling on her neck.
"We never talked much, Spot." Laces whispered letting her right hand dance up to clutch the key.
"Of course we did." Spot flicked the last bit of his cigarette out into the Longfellow garden.
"Why do you think I want to be talking to Jack?"
"Being out west has always been about Kelly." Spot shrugged.
"Are you happy?" Laces wondered.
"Life isn't about being happy Laces." Spot smiled.
"What is life about then mighty Brooklyn?"
"Surviving and maybe… just maybe smiling once and a while." Spot shrugged as a broad cocky smile graced his face.
"Throwing a good punch." Laces sighed through a stifled yawn. Spot twitched and pulled out another cigarette as he ignored the anxious fidgeting of the girl next to him.
Laces was impatiently studying him in the moonlight. Spot Conlon was no longer the boy king though traces of the Brooklyn swagger remained. Though still actively refusing to be called by his birth name of Patrick, Spot Conlon was now a man. The West had not bronzed Spot as it had Jack, but Laces had always known Conlon to be the more temperate of the two. But there was more color in Spot's light skin tone and his hair had grown lighter and longer. His shoulders were no longer as square and he didn't automatically clench his jaw as if holding all his anger back by gritting his teeth. Spot Conlon had relaxed just slightly, not enough that anyone without a trained pair of eyes would notice. But Laces had noticed. She knew exactly how his posture had changed.
"You changed too, you know." Spot finally spat out harshly. His blue flickered with the usual impatience and annoyance at having to explain himself to anyone. Laces smiled at him and in over dramatic slow motion rested her head against his shoulder.
"How?" She prompted him.
"This…" Spot's fingers pulled at the tied up strands of her hair. "Always done now?'
"A proper lady doesn't even walk around the home without her hair done up." Laces giggled.
"Your cheeks are rounder." Spot continued.
"Think I've gotten heavier?"
"Think you've had three square meals a day for a regular period." Spot responded sternly giving the girl a warning to keep up the habit if she knew what was good for her.
Spot didn't finish explaining the differences he saw in her. Instead he let his hand rest on her properly straightened back. He felt Laces let her body relax becoming heavier on his shoulder as she fought with sleep.
"You can't let how much you miss us affect you this much Audrey." Spot whispered. He felt how her shoulder popped, her shock and displeasure with Spot being a physical reaction.
"Would you have taken Fiona with you?" Laces whispered. It was Spot's turn to let his body react to his shock, his wrist flicked inward as if preparing his hand for a fistfight but instead it pulled Laces grimly closer.
"Yes." He responded automatically, instantly. He had anticipated the fight from Laces to get away from him. His hold on her was strong and held her in place despite her struggles.
"Stop that." Spot growled at her.
"You would have taken Fiona, but you leave me behind…" Laces reproached. Spot ran his thumb back and forth on the bare skin above Laces' elbow.
"You are better loved than Fiona. You find protectors everywhere. You are well here." Spot whispered to her trying to soothe and make her understand her reality.
"I am not better here." Laces fought the tears that were starting to prick behind her eyes.
"Maybe not. But you are well. Taken care of skirts, schooling… three square meals a day." Spot repeated.
"You would have taken Fiona." Laces fought the tears now streaming down her face as she yawned again.
"I use to be more selfish." Spot whispered and then Laces fell. She choked out a sob as she slammed her shoulder into the stone steps.
"Audrey?"
Laces pulled the quilt around her tighter and pushed her knees into her stomach. No one said her name again until a pair of strong arms picked her up easily, expertly from the ground and carried her into the light of the house.
"Audrey," The whisper was forceful but calm.
"Spot, you can put me down." Laces gurgled through a sleep sob.
"You are burning up." He chastised.
"Spot, put me down. Where is Jack?" She asked clutching to his shirt.
"Baby doll, Spot and Jack aren't here." Thomas Longfellow stated worried.
"We haven't really been here all day Laces, but you know that." Jack laughed somewhere in the distance. It was a carefree laugh, the kind Laces remembered from the nights in Manhattan when Racetrack was running a poker game and Snipeshooter was playfully hiding Race's favorite cigar.
"You've been imaging us all day." Spot added more seriously.
"Get the doctor." Thomas was directing someone as Laces felt him ascend up the stairs.
"Jack…" Laces croaked.
"He's in New Mexico. We got a post card this morning, him and Spot are well." Thomas tried to explain.
Thomas pushed open the doors of the room that was designated as Audrey's in the mansion of the city. He stormed through his own house to get the girl upstairs and the maids trailed behind him anxiously. Thomas was calmly commanding the servants around him, getting one of their expert hands to undress the girl as he directed for cold compresses. In the fury of movements, Cricket instinctively reached for a window cracked it open and whistled out a little tune.
"They will take care of you." Spot's voice rang in her head.
"And we'll come back." Jack promised. Laces closed her eyes as Thomas' rough hands pressed a cold compress onto her forehead.