Author's Note – Hello to anyone that's still out there reading this! And to any new people that may have joined in on my madness! You didn't think I could really stay away from Spot and Anne forever, did you?! : ) .

PREVIOUSLY...

“Why were ya pokin' round closets anyway?” Spot chewed at his lip as he regarded Jack.

“I was getting an extra blanket...guess it didn't cross my mind that you'd be cheap enough to take a girl in a fuckin' cupboard, Conlin.”

Anne pushed past them and stumbled into the hallway.

“Annie!” Jack strode out after her.

“Angel...” Spot barreled his way past Jack and grabbed her arm.

“I don't feel so well...” she muttered, not breaking her step.

“Come on, sweetheart – you just need to get some sleep.” Spot flung his arm round her shoulders and walked her to her room, going in with her and closing the door.

Anne felt nauseated. She laid down as soon as Spot had closed the door.

“Ya alright, sweetheart?” The mattress dipped slightly as he sat next to her.

“I just need to sleep for awhile – I'll be fine,” she muttered as she rolled to her side, leaving her back to him. She didn't bother to undress, it would take too much effort. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Her eyes fluttered open to a dark room. Dark and empty. She must have slept all day, the stars were shimmering through the lacy curtains. Her stomach was still sour and when she sat upright, her head felt as though it was full of fluid rushing about. She walked to the window and pulled the curtains aside to allow as much silver light in the room as possible. Thankfully, the sky had cleared a bit and lit the table enough for her to find the matchbook and lantern. A flame was struck and the glass was placed back over the wick, casting a yellowing glow around her. She snorted at herself softly as she realized that this cabin was most likely equipped with gas lamps, she hadn't needed to go through this trouble of finding a light. Restlessness reared over her and she decided what she really wanted right then was some fresh air. She opened her door and walked down the hall, lantern in tow. She glanced at the clock as she passed by and it indicated that it was near the witching hour. Down the stairs and to the front the door, she was outside without seeing anybody. She wondered where Spot had disappeared to, but was glad that he wasn't there because she could use some time alone.

The trees towered her path as she wove her way into the woods. An owl hooted up above and it nearly made her jump out of her skin. There was something off with her right now. It wasn't like her to be this jumpy and her constitution was normally more rigid than this. She shrugged at her own thoughts, jotting it down to it being caused by her state of emotions as of late. Attitude can play a huge part in one's life, it wreaks havoc on your entire system. Not to mention her raw engagement, that wasn't exactly stable, either. Just as these thoughts were playing in her mind, an unpleasant gurgling in her esophagus told her she was about to be ill. She let the lantern thump to the ground quickly and leaned over to vomit into a poor little bush. She barely registered the hands that pulled her hair away from her face. A few more heaves racked her chest and then she was done. The back of her sleeve wiped at her mouth before she turned to see who had joined her.

“Ya ok?”

Anne nodded her head. “How did you know I was out here?”

“Saw ya come outta the house.” Spot reached up and pulled a cigarette from behind his ear.

“Where were you?”

“Standin' out here.” He retrieved a match from his pocket, whipped it against the tree bark and puffed his cigarette to life.

“I can't believe I slept all day...” She watched him, the crimson ember shadowed his angular features.

“How ya feelin' now?”

She shrugged. “Better.”

His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled a few more deep drags, then threw it to the ground and pressed it into the dirt with his toe. “Come here.”

She stepped into his open arms and he enveloped her. He ran his hands up and down her sleeves soothingly, then kissed her crown. He started to sway her in his arms. “Ya like dancin', don't ya, angel?” he murmured into her hair.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“There ain't no music, but will ya dance with me?” he backed away and grabbed her hands into his.

“Yes.” Anne smiled and grew fuzzy at his boyish grin. His palm covered the small of her back, he lifted her hand and covered it with his long fingers. They danced in place to a nonexistent tune, the moon served as their spotlight.

“I love you, Spot.”

“I love ya, too, honey...” His cobalt eyes pierced into hers. Their feet were still moving to the left, then the right, then the left. He was trying hard not to mutilate her feet, he never was much of a dancer. “I don't do the things you like to do enough, do I?”

She thought he was being flippant at first, then paused at his sincerity. “It's alright.”

“No, it ain't.” He stopped their motions, they stood frozen. “I gotta think more about what things you wanna do – stop bein' so damn selfish all the time.”

“It's ok...where is all of this coming from?” She bit her lip at his somber expression.

“We're gettin' married – I ain't gonna be one of them deadbeats who run around on their women, never carin' what nobody wants but them. I wanna be a good husband to ya, angel. I ain't gonna be no asshole.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I know you won't – I mean, I know you won't be a jerk...well, no more so than usual,” she teased but he didn't flinch. “What's making you think of all this all of sudden?”

He stared at her hard for a moment then resumed their steps. He looked away as he answered, “nothin.”

Anne rested her head in the crook of his neck as they continued their silent dance, he held her to him tightly. She shivered a little in his arms.

“Ya cold?”

“A little.”

“Let's get ya back inside.” He clasped her hand in his and grabbed the lantern from the ground. The door creaked open as they entered the parlour. Two people were seated on the couch and both snapped their gazes up to see who had come in.

“Spot! I have to talk to you!” Gil exclaimed, Jack was seated next to him.

“What the hell are you doin' here?” Spot asked Gil suspiciously.

“You have to go back to Brooklyn – there's trouble.”

“Yeah, he ain't lyin', Spot – said Queens is rumblin.” Jack hopped up from the couch.

“Meck – and Dodd...there's talk that they're headed towards Brooklyn tomorrow.” Gil now stood as well.

Anne turned a panicked look to Spot. “Meck? Isn't that that jerk from that party months ago?”

“Yeah, that's him – the dumbass that was runnin' at the mouth to ya before I knocked his damn teeth out...” Spot's face darkened at the memory.

“And Dodd is the leader of Queens?” she wondered.

“Yeah – ya met him once, long time ago, Annie.” Jack answered. “He's big and stupid...like Meck – guess that's why he's his second in command. Both idiots.”

“Ain't that all o 'em?” Gil joked but no one was in the mood to laugh.

Spot hardened his jaw. “Well, what are we waitin' for? We got ourselves some business to take care of.”

“Now? Do you have to go now?” Anne was scared for him. Ever since that altercation with Spot and Meck, things had been tense between Queens and Brooklyn.

“Gotta go right now, angel. She needs me.” Spot brushed her cheek with his fingers. “My two gals – you and Brooklyn – both of youse always get yourselves into trouble,” he said glibly. “I'll be back soons I can.” He kissed her hard.

Jack cleared his throat uncomfortably at their display. “I'm gonna round up Manhattan – I'll get Race to talk to Harlem. Davey already left, I told him to get Skittery and Blink talkin' to the boys.”

Spot gave a jerk of the head. “Good – thanks, Jacky Boy. You're a real friend,” he told him with earnest, though the tightness was still in the air. He leaned in to kiss Anne one more time but she pulled away.

“I was sick earlier, so don't-”

“I don't care, silly woman.” He pressed his lips to hers again. “I'll be back soon – ya start plannin' this weddin' of ours, huh?” He left her with a parting smirk, then was out into the night with Gil following close behind.

Jack looked at Anne. “Annie – will ya tell Betty what happened? She's sleepin', I don't wanna wake her.”

“I think she'd want you to say goodbye at least.”

“Don't have time,” Jack engaged her with pleading eyes. “Please, Annie.”

“Ok, I'll tell her.” She forced a half smile, knowing that Betty was going to be upset at Jack leaving without a word to her.

Jack went to leave but startled her when instead he grabbed her into a hug and held her tightly. “Be careful,” he whispered to her before he released her abruptly and ran outside, leaving the front door open. Anne went to shut it but paused at the sight before her. She saw the forms of Spot and Gil retreating into the darkness and then Jack jogged to meet up with them. There was something very melancholy in the sight, almost grim, in the way the figures melted into the black. She shook away the worry and shut the door. Sickness overcame her once more and she rushed upstairs to retch again. Fifteen minutes later she was done, she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. She went to her room and laid on the bed when a sudden thought jarred her.

“Oh God...” she mumbled to herself as fear and realization overcame her.

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