Every Friday- Spot

[Spot]

Spot frowned at her. "You realize you supply beer right." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's what you do. There's no need to be personal about it." He took a swing of his gin. "It's not like you have a purpose in life beside providing beer for me and annoying me out of my right mind." He took another long sip of gin. "And putting my wife in danger all the damn time and trying to kill her and," he sipped one last time, "Ruining my borough."

"Ya. Romance is stupid. But you wouldn't understand Fox. You don't love anybody," He laughed. "You don't even love yourself!" He was starting to get drunk, and he was losing the actually control of what he was saying. It was just slipping out his mouth like a river, flowing down his throat and out of his mouth.

He gave a quick hiccup, smiling at her, not as drunk as they could be. He looked at Fox. "Why don't you go be happy somewhere Fox. Just stop being a dumb drunk and go be happy and fall in love with someone." He frowned at her. "Go back to Manhattan and do it."

[Fox]

Rolling her eyes, she sneered angrily. "I do know I supply beer, but I am entitled to indulge in what I supply", she paused, taking another swig of her drink, coughed and savored the burn in her throat. "And I have never tried to...intentionally kill doll. If I ever did, it would've been an accident." Smirking, she didn't really address the topic of her hanging around in Brooklyn all the time. Not that she didn't like the Bronx- heck, she liked it a hell of alot better than 'Hattan. Really, she liked the Bronx alot, and she wasn't in love with Brooklyn. The reason she hung around Brooklyn so often was unfathomable.

"Ya. Romance is stupid. But you wouldn't understand Fox. You don't love anybody," He laughed. "You don't even love yourself!"

Glancing to the side, she tossed her empty bottle of liquor to the back wall of the alley, watching it shatter. He was right. "Hell, I take that fact with pride", she hissed, pulling out a random drink from a bag and downing it into gulps. She coughed, beating her fist against her chest. She didn't have a reason to love herself. Anyway, the odds were that Fox wouldn't make it past age 20. With all her alcohol consumption (and who knew about the years to come) she was practically on the road to her death. Not that she minded at all, actually. Fox could never see herself beyond 16 years old, and she was already 15.

"Why don't you go be happy somewhere Fox. Just stop being a dumb drunk and go be happy and fall in love with someone."

She knew Spot was drunk- even her vision had started to get pretty hazy. Her eyes flashed murderously, "What the hell?", she asked- a combination of anger and incredulous-ness. "I ain't no dumb drunk. Nor am I some stupid air-brained person who needs love to satisfy her." Never had she been taught the concept of actually opening up to someone. AKA, she really couldn't love someone.

"Just shut up", she hissed, angrily, her fury practically growing with each word, neglecting the fact that she didn't even live in 'Hattan anymore. "SHUT UP!"

[Spot]

"I don't know what that means," he said bluntly. Spot was no linguist, he knew what he knew. Entitled he had heard before, but the word indulged was definitely foreign to him. He sighed, taking another swig of the stolen bottle. Fingers gripped across the neck, he swung it around, tense while talking about Doll and death. "Accidentally is too close to the real thing." He muttered under his breath after taking a breath swig, feeling the burn. "You're lucky I let you anywhere near her."

The shatter followed by her snarky comment and another bottle of alcohol was the perfect example of Fox's behavior, which amused Spot. "Your gonna kill yourself drinking like that." He smirked at her a bit, "And then what will Doll do to get herself in danger." Not that she needs help with that, He thought. She was just so damn fragile.

"Oh, don't be so sensitive," her mumbled under his breath. She was like any girl. Too emotional. He knew that even more and more the longer he was married to Doll. She was a girl, gently by design (in Spot's mind) and she was easy to hurt, physically and mentally. He only had to say one word wrong, give a look the wrong way, forget to tell her something and she'd be hurt. Unfortunately, his wife had the poker face of an expert gambler, and was stubborn enough to think that she could take care of her problems all alone. That's where he came in.

Her frustrated and childish 'shut ups' did nothing more than egg him on. He took another swig before continuing. "All I'm saying is that maybe you wouldn't be such a stubborn bitter hermit that nobody lies around except for delusional cheerful people and my wife if you just tired not to bite the head off of a guy who wanted to... date you?"

Not that anyone wanted to date Fox. He shrugged, sipping again before looking to her honestly. "They say Doll did wonders for my temper. I don't see it, but eh!" He shrugged again.

[Fox]

"God, Spot. Your an idiot", she said with an incredulous tone. She had some book smarts, but more street smarts. What she really lacked was common sense. Even if she sensed that she was walking straight into a pit of fire, she wouldn't care; heck, she'd dive in. "Entitled. Allowed. Permitted. Expected. Ring a bell?"

"Accidentally is too close to the real thing."

"She's still alive", she smirked, adding on, "ain't she? If anyone ends her life, it ain' gonna be me." Trouble- for some freakish reason- tended to follow Doll. That was probably the price that she had to pay for falling for the most infamous newsie around.

"Your gonna kill yourself drinking like that."

At that slight mention, she gave him a sarcastic look, the corners of her mouth upturned, and pulled another bottle of God-knows-what out of her bag. "Yeah uh, ain't that kinda' the point?" Not so true. Most of the time, those who were drinkers, didn't really aim to die (a good portion did, though). Some of them used alcohol as an eraser- but it didn't necessarily do the trick for some. She shoved a drink toward him randomly, not sorting out her thoughts thoroughly.

"Oh, don't be so sensitive."

"I ain't sensitive, Spotty-boy. Hell, if anyones sensitive, its you. Doll gets a cut the size of a strand of hair on her finger. Your reaction?", she paused briefly to gulp down some of her drink,"Is to sort through every living being in Brooklyn till you find out who did it, then you start screaming your head off like someone just killed Doll." Spot literally looked after Doll as if she was worth all of the hoity-toity's fortunes in the city. Waste of time, she thought. People were stupid. It was even more stupid to constantly fret about them. People weren't worth the thought- there were so many of them, anyway.

"All I'm saying is that maybe you wouldn't be such a stubborn bitter hermit that nobody lies around except for delusional cheerful people and my wife if you just tired not to bite the head off of a guy who wanted to... date you?"

"1) I am not a bitter hermit. Hermits do not move, and do not do anything. I move. I travel. I walk, I run. I sell. That is called moving", she continued, "2) Delusional Cheerful People shape our world. Manipulation- heard of it? 3) Dating is STUPID! As is marriage. Commitment. Ugh." She wasn't bitter about not having practically anyone view her in a dating way- dating was useless. A mere distraction.

"They say Doll did wonders for my temper. I don't see it, but eh!"

"What idiot told ya' that?", she stated, "You fight with Doll, you make up. Your happy when you make up, but pissed as hell when you fight. Maybe you just scared the crap outa' whoever told you that and they was trying to be nice."