Title: Monologue
Series: A First Time For Everything
Author: Sweets O'Rielly
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Pairing: Spot / Jack
Disclaimers: Jack, Davey, and Spot belong to Disney.  If they were
mine, oh the fun I could have.
Note: 1. The accents... just aren't doing it for me.  I'm not going
to misspell every single word to get the effect.  It's ugly, messy, and
just plain bad.  Hopefully you won't hold that against me.  2. I do plan
on going back and writing the beginning of Spot and Jack's relationship,
which would explain the second sentence of this monologue.  So don't be
scratching your head wondering where that came from.  :o)

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He's spent more time with Dave than with me, so ya can't blame me for thinking that somethin' was goin' on.  He betrayed me before, so why should now be different?  Sometimes I think I'm stupid; other times, I know I am.  I have ta be, ta get myself into this again.  When it comes ta Jack, I just don't learn nothin'.  What is it about him that's so special?  What makes him different?  I'm the leader of Brooklyn, I don't have any trouble findin' lovers.  If I want someone in my bed, I snap my fingers.

That's the way it works.  I whistle, they come.

But Jack... he's different.  I don't know why.  He's the only lover that I ever took back.  The others I just ran outta Brooklyn.  This is my city.  If I don't want to see your face, you won't step foot across the city limits.  My boys don't even need a reason, just the order.  I earned my position, an' the respect that comes wit it.  When Spot Conlon
talks, everybody listens.

Jack confuses me, an' I'm not used ta that.  I'm s'posed ta know the answers to everything.  People come ta me when they need help.  Who's gonna help me?  Who's gonna save me from myself?  'Cause that's the problem, even if I don't wanna admit it.  I want him.  It's not Jack's fault.  It's mine.  I don't even know what the hell we have, I just know it's good.  We just meet every week or two and head for the nearest flat surface, it don't even have ta be a bed.  Just something where one of us
can push the other down and have our way.  It's not just the sex that made me let Jack back into my bed.  It's prob'ly a big part of it, but I know it's not the entire reason.

But the sex is good.  The way my body feels after sex is even better. It's a little uncomfortable, but not sore.  Just a nice reminder of what I did. 

I'm not an easy person to get along with.  I'm impatient, cocky, and I think of myself first.  It's how ya have to be to survive.  I been on my own since I was 7.  To make it on your own, you have to change. Sometimes I wonder who I would be if I grew up like Davey.  Wit a family who cared.  Wit sibs who loved me.  Wit real friends ta look out fer me.

But I didn't.  My fatha was a drunk who scared my motha away.  I was an only kid, no sibs to take care of.  Real friends are rare, 'cause everybody looks out for themself.  But now things ain't so bad.  I got a roof over my head.  I got respect.  I got a few friends that I trust wit my life.  The shit I been through, the shit I put up wit for years, is what makes me who I am.  The leader of Brooklyn.  Could I do tha job wit'out who I was?  Nah, 'cause I wouldn't be who I am.

I know that Jack is as confused as I am 'bout this thing we got.  If I could explain it to him, I would.  But I can't, 'cause I don't know the words.  I don't know what to say.  I don't even understand it myself.  I don't think I have the feelings anymore.  I got rid of 'em a long time ago.  Had to, to get through some of the things I done.  It happens a
little at a time, until finally you realize that you don't got no more feelings.  Maybe that's why I took Jack back - he makes me feel something. 

It was sink or swim; I chose swim.  Look what it got me: Brooklyn.  No regrets. None so far, anyway.  Somethin' tells dat I'm gonna regret this thing with Jack.  I don't know when.  Next week, next month, next year, next lifetime?  It's gonna happen.  For now, all I can do is enjoy it. Enjoy it, and stop worrying 'bout it.

Jack's sleeping now, I can tell by the way he's breathin'.  I hate it when he falls asleep first.  I always have time to think, then.  Some things shouldn't be thought about.  They only confuse ya and get ya into trouble.  I can't believe he fell asleep!  The boy is gettin' old.  Time was he could take much more and still be ready for an encore.  I know I'm ready for more.  I gots two options: let him sleep and take care of
it myself, or wake him up and get him to do it for me.

He's lookin' really wore out.  No one better say that Spot Conlon ain't kind when it suits him ta be.

End