Wow. I'm already on the third chapter. I am so happy that people like this story! And as long as people keep reviewing, I will keep writing... until the story ends, I run out of ideas, or I get killed and/or horribly maimed in a gruesome accident. If none of that happens, expect new chapters!

Disclaimer: Ok, apparently, just because Walt Disney is a frozen head being held somewhere in the deep Arctic waiting to be thawed and cured of whatever disease he had, doesn't mean he will give up the rights to Newsies without a fight. I still don't own it.

Chapter 3

It had been night once again when they had gotten back from Manhattan. Once again, Angie had been the only one to stay awake, saying good night to the last girl about an hour ago. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, so she didn't bother wasting time trying. For at least another week, she would have to follow the vampiric schedule that her body somehow got hooked on.

Feeling cramped in the apartment, she grabbed her notebook and pencil from the nightstand and headed to the docks.

Angie didn't know where the urge to draw came from, but once she picked up a pencil, she couldn't stop. It had become a second nature to her. No matter what kind of mood she was in, she could always find something to draw. This time, sitting on the docks, her feet dangling over the water, was no different.

The docks probably weren't the safest place to be at night, but she felt relatively sure in the fact that she could fend for herself. Besides, there wasn't anyone around. Opening her notebook, she started to sketch.

Then she started to think about her conversation with Jack.

Had he meant what he said about her and Spot becoming close? Did he really think that would've happened? She hoped he knew her better than that. Spot was a jerk. A macho, chauvinistic, loves-himself-too-much jerk. But, then again...

Angie had only talked to him for a short amount of time. Who was she to judge him? Maybe he just acted like that as a show. She had seen it before. Hell, Jack had acted like that the first time he had met her. But Angie had gotten close to him and learned that it was just a front. A mask he wore. How did she know that wasn't the case with Spot? Could she ever find out?

Angie sighed, and fleetingly wondered why this one particular guy made herself ask so many questions she didn't have the answer to. Get ahold of yourself, she thought. He means nothing to you.

As if fate had decided to take upon itself to put her foot in her mouth, she looked down and saw what she had been mindlessly sketching. A pair of eyes stared at her from the otherwise blank page. Even though they had none of their magnificent blue color, she could recognize who they belonged to. You'll probably never even see him again, her mind tried to reason with her.

"Well, look who's up past her bedtime." There goes fate and her foot again.

Angie quickly snapped the notebook shut, and turned to face the owner of the voice. Once again, Spot was standing not two feet from her, leaning on one of the many poles that held the dock up. How had he snuck so close without her hearing?

"Well, look who was let out of his cage." she said, mimicking his tone and turning back towards the water. It seemed to be easier to think when she wasn't looking at him.

A short silence passed between them. It felt like hours. Spot was the one to break it, though he voice was so low Angie wasn't sure if she had heard it.

"It's nice out here, ain't it?"

"What?" she asked, turning back to look at him once again. If his voice was still low, maybe she had a chance of reading his lips. But when she turned, she was met by the astonishing blue eyes that were also in her notebook, only these were all the more amazing for the simple fact that they were real. Any chance of reading his lips had flown away.

"I just said it's nice out here." He took a step towards her, closing the already small space between them. "It's peaceful, 'specially when dere's no one ta screw it up."

Angie was taken aback. Was Spot trying to make small talk? The fact made her inwardly shudder, but, oddly, she liked it. He seemed like he was waiting for a confirmation, or something along those lines, but Angie just found herself saying "Ok. Did you come out here with a point, or to just make small talk?"

It had come out a lot harsher than she wanted. She mentally kicked herself when he seemed to back away.

"Well, I did come out here ta discuss our little problem," Spot started to get defensive. "But if yah don't want me here, I guess I'll leave." He turned to go.

Still kicking herself, Angie forced herself to say "No, wait. I'm sorry." It felt weird to say those words. She had barely said them at all in her life.

Spot stopped. Probably wondering if his hearing is going bad, she thought bitterly. "What's on your mind?" She didn't have to force herself to be sincere, she actually wanted to know what he was thinking. It, along with several other feelings that were attacking her now, was alien.

He hesitated, doubtlessly thinking whether or not it was a trap and that, as soon as his guard was down, Angie would push him into the river to drown. But he seemed to work past that thought, and sat down next to her, resting his arm on one leg and letting the other hang off the dock. Angie turned towards him, folding her legs under her.

"Well, I was thinking about what Kelly said."

Angie was once again mesmerized by him, and it took her a minute to register who Kelly was. Realizing it was Jack, she laughed quietly to herself. Not so quietly, for Spot gave her a strange look, but her saying "And?" seemed to remind him that he wasn't finished talking.

"And... he may on ta somethin'. I have been low on newises lately."

Once again, he seemed to have the power to completely shock her. Spot was asking for her help? She had to say it several times in her mind before it rung true.

The silence that once again accompanied their conversation gave Angie time to think. Maybe Jack had been right. Maybe her and Spot were twins. They seemed to be proving it more now than ever. At first, Angie was surprised that Spot was trying to make small talk. Then Spot was shocked that Angie didn't let him leave. Now, Angie marveled at the thought that Spot was asking for help, let alone help from her. Also, they both seemed to be a little awkward with the conversation, aloways expecting it to turn into a fight, and never expecting one to be nice to the other. So, either they were alike, or they were very easy to surprise.

It then occured to her. An answer for Jack's question, why did they hate each other? She didn't think they did. Sure, they weren't the best of pals, but hate was too strong of a word. But they didn't get along because they were similar. Too similar.

It actually made sense. If the saying 'opposites attract' was true, then it must mean 'similarites repel'. The thought of pointing that out to Jack the next time she saw him made her smirk, but it was quickly gone. Another thought, one of her and Spot "repeling" each other, had made a sense of gloom settle on her shoulders.

"All right." Angie spoke, realizing she would have to say something eventually.

Spot's head shot up, her voice probably taking him out of his own deep thoughts. He just nodded, still not wanting to admit he was asking for assistance.

"There's a little problem, though." Angie started again. "Believe it or not, you weren't the only newsie who thought that girls should stay at home." She was referring to the many other boys who seemed to have a problem with them being there, only most not as vocal as Spot.

Spot smirked, and Angie's heart fluttered. "You just leave dem ta me." She would have to trust him.

Feeling the conversation was done, they both stood, but only Angie started walking back towards the city. She was just about to pass Spot when he seized her arm and pulled her towards him, his lips meeting hers.

It seemed cliche'd when she would hear about a kiss that 'felt like it lasted forever', but know she knew what they were talking about. Before she could think on it any longer, Spot pulled away. Without a word, he turned and walked quickly back to Brooklyn, leaving Angie just standing there, doubting her sanity.

Without consent, her mind traveled back to the last words her and Jack had said. He had brought it up right before they were leaving, so she hadn't had time to interrigate him.

"You know, me and the guys have a bet goin'." He smirked.

"On what?" Angie inquired.

"On when you and Spot are gonna get togethuh."

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I am so sorry! I know that took a long time! I was having more trouble than I anticipated. Another big shout-out to David Bowie, who singlehandedly saved this chapter from the deepest, darkest pits of forgotten fanfiction! Go Bowie! This is another chapter that I'm worried went too fast, but I was just dying for them to kiss. Weird, I know.

Also, I know Angie may seemed more like a fangirl in this chapter, but you have to remember, this is being written by a fangirl. Expect Spot to be complimented on his looks A LOT. But, I will keep a plot, instead of it being "I love Spot", "Spot's so hot", etc., etc. Another also, it may be just my extremely messed up mind and the fact that I never payed attention, but I just realized yesterday that Spot and hot rhyme. I think it's more than a coincidence. Forgive me. This is what becomes of me from only having seven hours of sleep in a 48 hour period.

Review! I'll give you Spot! Yeah, right. If I had Spot, I would keep him for myself. But, I will update! Doesn't that make you wanna review? Please say yes.