Someone once said that you should not go to bed angry. Spot Conlon had never heard those words and if he did, he did not listen to them. Not only was his "friend" forced to leave because of Pyro's actions, he now had to share a room and a bed with her. Spot liked having his own space. Now, he was forced to give up his favorite side of the bed because Pyro liked the side against the wall. It made her feel safe that she would not roll out of bed. There were other problems. Pyro's feet were in constant motion, always twitching and rubbing together, even as she slept. Then, there was the fact that she hogged all of the blankets. These were only the problems that Spot had to deal with while he was trying to sleep. Waking up in the morning was a whole different story.

Saying that Pyro was not a morning person would be an understatement. Everyone knew to stay clear of her in the morning. Now, not only did Spot have to wake her up but he had to deal with her after she got out of bed.

It was now three days after Pyro had accidentally set her room on fire. Using his cane, Spot nudged Pyro. "Hey, get outta bed!" Pyro did not move. "You leave me no choice, then." He muttered as he stood at the foot of the bed and yanked the blankets off of her.

The moment Pyro felt the cool morning air on her skin, her eyes shot open and she sat straight up in bed. She never said much in the mornings but her actions spoke for her. Getting out of bed, her bare feet touched the floor. Without a word, she grabbed the blanket and threw it at him. On the small night stand next to the bed, she picked up her lighter and her slingshot. Pushing her chin length bangs out of her face, she stepped over a pile of dirty clothes. Being a messy roommate was another problem Spot had with Pyro.

On the other side of the room was another pile of clothes. Picking up a shirt and a pair of pants, she sniffed them just to make sure they were clean. Not even caring that the shirt and pants did not belong to her and that they actually belonged to Spot, Pyro grumpily made her way to the door. Spot opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. "Don't care that these are your clothes. They're clean." She mumbled. With her hand on the doorknob, she shot him a glare. "And, if you ever nudge me with that fucking cane again in the morning, I'm going to take it from you and shove it up your ass horizontally. Then, I'll light you on fire."

As Pyro opened the door and stepped into the hallway, Spot called after her. "I liked you better when you were sleeping."

The short red head turned around and shrugged. "Then, you should have left me that way." And, with those words, Pyro went into the washroom to get ready.

Twenty minutes later, Pyro emerged from the washroom, looking more awake. With two braids in her red hair, she grabbed her gray cap and put it on. After rolling up her pants a few times on each leg, she made her way down the stairs and outside. Standing on the sidewalk with a cigarette in his mouth, Spot looked up at her. "I need your lighter."

"Bite me, Conlon." Pyro looked at him. She did not like to let other people touch her lighter. With a shrug, she walked towards him and then past him.

As she made her way past him, Spot grabbed her by the arm and spun her so that she was facing him. Not saying a word, he shoved his hand into her right pocket and retrieved the lighter. With a smug grin, he flicked opened the lighter and lit his cigarette. He noticed that Pyro's eyes flashed to an almost black color. Then, he put the lighter back in her right pocket, letting his hand linger for a moment. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Conlon?" She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his hand out of her pocket. Then, she walked away.

Spot shook his head and followed her. As he fell in step with her, he took a drag from his cigarette. "Where are you going?"

"To get away from you." Pyro looked at him. "And, unfortunately, it's not working because you're following me."

"Eh, you know you love having me follow you."

"You turn into stalker now or something?" A smile spread across her face. She was starting to snap out of her morning mood swing.

"No one in their right mind would stalk you." He teased.

"What makes you think you're in your right mind?" She grabbed the cigarette from him and took a drag.

"Glad to see that you're done being pissed at the world." He took the cigarette back. "Because, isn't today Friday?"

Pyro stopped and looked at him. "I am not going to settle your bets for you. You can get your own fucking money from Race."

Every Friday afternoon, Pyro would accompany Manhattan's own Racetrack Higgins to the races. She gambled very little when she was there. She mostly went to be in the company of someone that was not a brute from Brooklyn and to see the horses. Everyone seemed to think that Pyro liked animals more than she liked people. There were often times when that were true.

Spot glared at her. "I'm not asking you to do it. I'm telling you. And, you better not come back to Brooklyn until you have my money in your hands." He put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her brown eyes. "Because I have no problems with soaking a girl especially one that gets under my fucking skin as much as you do." With that as his warning, he turned and walked away.

"Bite me, Conlon!" Pyro called out after him and then she headed for Manhattan.