Until We Find Each Other Again

We May Have Entered A Better World | June 24, 2011

AAAAAA I'M EXCITEDDDDDD

Enjoy! :)

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Race and Spot kiss exactly at midnight...

...Then are instantly interrupted by a loud sound.

Startled, Race pulls away and looks at his surroundings. He blinks. Then blinks again.

This isn't the lodging house at midnight.

This is the streets. 

In the daylight.

Ma che cosa?

"Race?"

Race turns around so fast he can feel his neck crack, and lets out a huge sigh of relief to see that Spot is standing next to him. Even if he has no clue what the heck is going on, he's got Spot beside him.

"Are we dreaming?" Spot asks.

"Uhhh..." Race pinches himself with one hand and Spot with the other hand. When they both yell "OW!" Race lets go, concluding, "guess not."

Spot huffs. "Seriously? Wasn't there a better thing you could have tried?"

Race puts his hands up in surrender. "Well what else would you have liked? Me slappin' ya?"

"It's a better reason to shout out in pain than my sweetheart randomly decidin' to pinch me."

Race stops. "Even after that, I'm still ya sweetheart?"

Spot huffs again and shoves Race without any real force. "Yeah, you are, I still likes ya even when you're does stuff like this, yadayadayada--let's just start tryin' to figure out what in the world is going on, okay?"

Race finally slows down for a moment. "Okay."

Staring into each other's eyes, they take a deep breath in together, and a deep breath out. Holding hands, they look at their surroundings.

It's New York...but not their  New York.

Something shiny is on the ground. Its glint attracts Race. Like a cat hunting a mouse, he focuses on it, and closes in.

Spot watches him, shaking his head. "I swear you're a magpie in human form."

Race shushes him, not taking his eyes off the quarter, only a little miffed by Spot's statement (but considering that him being attracted to shiny things led him to impulsively spend a day's pay on that harmonica, Spot really isn't too wrong though), squats down so as not to touch the dirty ground more than he has to (even if it's not his New York he reasons that any New York is as dirty as heck), and as carefully as he can picks up the quarter.

"Ain't it bad luck to pick up a quarter?"

"Nah, I think that's just pennies."

"I thought it was good luck to pick up a penny."

"Well it is until it's heads down..." Race stares at the back of the quarter.

"Don't tell me. Yer superstitious AND it was lyin' face down."

"Nuh-uh." Race shakes his head, still staring at the quarter. "Spot, ya ain't gonna believe this."

"What?"

Race beckons for Spot to come closer. He does, but then Race brings up a hand to flick him away when he's breathing down Race's neck, not unlike what Jack did back in Tibby's over the summer when Spot was too eager to see his picture.