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after-witch · 11 months

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My Heart Was Not So Heavy Then [Yandere Spring Spirit x Reader]

Title: My Heart Was Not So Heavy Then [Yandere Spring Spirit x Reader]

Synopsis: You've always known you were going to die in the spring.

Word Count: 8600ish

Notes: yandere, reader is a married woman, misogyny, mentions of expected pregnancies and childbirth, reader becomes pregnant, physical abuse (slapping); some animal birthing descriptions

You have always known that you were going to die in the spring. It was not a fact that you shared with others--you learned very early that such talk was not acceptable. It earned you stares and whispered words and on one occasion, sore knuckles from your mother rapping them with a stick, sternly telling you to stop talking like that.

So you did.

You pretended not to know that one spring, when the flowers were in bloom, you would die and cease to be. You kept this knowledge with you, a secret in your pocket, but you no longer let it slip from your lips. You kept your thoughts to yourself between the snow melting and the heat of summer rising, wondering, always wondering: is this the spring?

And if you grew up with death woven into your thoughts, stitched like embroidery into your heart, was that so bad? You still grew up. You had friends and played. You learned to read enough to get by and you loved to paint, when your parents could afford the materials, and life was sweet and bitter in all the right turns.

And now you were old enough to marry, though the prospect of it all--marriage, birth, death--seemed almost fruitless sometimes. What was the point? How long would it last?

You were going to die in the spring. And your husband didn’t even know.

You had a beautiful dream that morning. A lovely thing. Hazy--perfect for spring. Something that would no doubt be half-remembered by the early afternoon, only recalled in desperate snatches that you could not possibly hold onto for very long. Not when there were chores to be done and your husband’s younger sisters and brother to mind and neighbors to visit and your mother-in-law to appease.

Such beautiful dreams were lost in the tumult of life. It was to be expected that you’d never fully retain them past childhood, and certainly not now, married and expected to carry your load in your husband’s household while you waited to start your own.

When you were a child, the thought of your impending death was almost like an adventure. But now, you’ve found, it makes your heart feel sick with worry. Would it be worse to die before or after you had a child? Should you even have children? Was it wrong not to tell your husband what you knew?

But you remembered your sore knuckles and the way people stared when you told them, voice high and babbling, that you were going to die in the spring. So you said nothing. You woke up and you ate and you worked and you slept and you dreamed.

Even snatches of beautiful dreams, fleeting and whispered, were better than nothing.

Your mother-in-law--and you all live under the same room, mother-in-law, husband, wife, and his younger siblings--doesn’t care much for dreams. She told you so, the first time she caught you smiling at the breakfast table, still lost in the dizziness of a lovely dream.

Dreams are for children, not for married women, she had said. Someone about to have children of their own, running around your feet. Someone who is expected to be a proper spouse, a proper mother, a proper everything.

Best forget about your dreams, is what she told you. And you knew she meant it in every way possible.

Your husband, Thomas, doesn’t seem to mind your dreams. Figurative and otherwise. When he has a few extra coins in his pocket, he sometimes buys you paints, a little easel. The paints are cheap and the easels need to be carefully prepared before they will accept paint, but you don’t mind the effort. When you’re ready, he always ushers his mother into the house and lets you sit outside and work.

Your paintings will outlive you, and maybe that’s why you like it so much.

Not that your mother-in-law sees the benefit in any of it. Though you’re glad, at least, that she prefers to send you outside the home to work. Go to town, collect herbs, collect wood to be chopped by your husband or his brother that is old enough to wield an ax.

You don’t mind that she puts you to work outside the home so much. There will be plenty to do inside once you’re married, she tells you now and then, and even more once there’s a baby in your belly.

The thought makes you feel already heavy, leaden, like there’s a chain wrapped around your stomach keeping you to the floor… but you don’t tell her that.

Instead, you briskly step through the threshold as soon as you can, sometimes pulling off your husband’s younger sister who loves you (and you do love her, despite her clinginess, despite the knowledge that you won’t be here forever) and wishes you would stay home with her instead.

But you like the woods. You’re always alone in the woods. There’s nobody here to judge you. For your secrets or your paintings or anything else.

The woods are quiet and not-quiet, all the same. Buzzing insects and the trill of birds and the snap of branches from foxes and deer and perhaps, on occasion, a bear.

But there are no squealing children, shouting neighbors, or nagging mothers-in-law here. No children dragging against your skirts, no mother-in-law staring at your belly, tsking, wondering no doubt: when will you be ripe?

Ripe. What a thought. Your hand goes to your belly. You and Thomas had already started… becoming one, as they say, before you were married. You’re not meant to do so, until you’re married. But you were betrothed and Thomas said no one would mind very much, if your belly was a little round at the wedding that winter. But you weren’t pregnant at your wedding. And not now, either.

You wish you could avoid town for a little longer. And, more wistfully, you wish you could remember your dream from this morning. It was something beautiful and fresh. It made you feel renewed that morning, gave you a spring in your step. But what was it?

You sigh, ready to turn at the fork and head into town--when you hear it.

A horrible bleat.

You know that sound, and what it means.

Your legs carry you quick as anything towards the wild, primal noise, and sure enough, there--on the other side of a fence is a sheep, keeled over on her side, bleating awfully with one fresh lamb sitting at her head. She licks it in between her awful screams and you know that there must be another one still beside her. But it won’t come out.

You hop over the fence and her bleats intensify at the sight of you, despite the soft hushings you give her. Your hands reach towards her exposed underside and you see the edge of a leg, tiny and jerking. But no matter how much she bleats, it does not progress.

It’s stuck.

You tug your sleeves up to your elbow--they’ll probably get bloody anyway, but best to spare them as much as you can--and stick your arms inside, feeling the wet, squirming gore covering the lamb that refuses to be born.

“Do you need help?”

Your mind jerks but you force your body to stay still, lest you injure the lamb. You glance up and there is a young man standing in front of you, behind the fence. A stranger. He has chestnut hair that glints a little golder in the spackle of the spring light.

“I--”

The lamb tries to push again, which only seems to make the little thing underneath your hands tremble. But it moves no further.

“It’s stuck,” you say, tongue almost sticking to your mouth. There is no time for introductions or questions when there is a bleeding sheep and a stuck lamb before you. That can come later, as it always does, in times like these. “I need someone to push on her while I move it.” You pause, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Or I need four hands.”

The man laughs and leaps easily over the fence, landing right next to you. When he crouches, the smell of forest flowers spreads, though there is no breeze to bring them. He wastes no time in assisting you, and he must be the son of a farmer, you think, the way his hands deftly manipulate the lamb through the sheep’s thick wool and skin.

As he does so, your hands slip further inside, gripping the slick bloody wool and turning, turning--until there is a little rush of thickened blood and the lamb slides out. There is a moment of silence in which you think, poor lamb, poor thing.

But it bleats. It lives. And the mother jerks her body up, terrified bleats turning to ones of relief, and soon the stubborn second lamb is joining the first in getting its first mother’s bath.

“Bluebells,” you say. And then your mouth goes to your lips.

The man looks at you, and quirks his head to the side. “Hm?”

“Bluebells,” you say again. Then you smile and look down at your hands, covered in wetness and blood and birthing gore. “I… dreamt about them last night. I’ve been trying to remember my dream all morning, and it came to me just then as the lamb came out. How funny.”

He stares at you. You think back to your mother, your neighbor, your friends--the look they gave you when you told them about your spring-induced death. But you just told him about a dream. Why should he look at you so intensely?

But the look is gone before you know it, and instead he smiles. It’s a toothy smile. He stands, and then extends his hand to you. You glance down at your bloody hands and help yourself up, and he merely shrugs, and lets out a little laugh.

He insists on following you to the farmer’s door, so that you can let him know about the lambs. He tells you that his name is Robert, but everyone calls him Robin, and you can call him that, if you don’t mind.

You don’t mind, so you do.

“Did you make a wish?” He asks suddenly, as the two of you make your way up the winding, cleared path between the neighbor’s fences.

You’re busy wiping your hands on your apron--oh, how Thomas’ mother will seethe at the sight of it. “A wish?”

The man does a little spin as he walks--a spin!--and you can’t help but smile at him. He looks to be about your age, but he seems more carefree than the other men in town. Certainly more carefree than Thomas, who as of late has begun to calculate how much he will need to work, to make, to save, in order to expand his family’s home for your own children. You try not to think about that.

“A wish,” he repeats. “during your dream. On the first bluebell of spring.”

You laugh, and a cow somewhere on the other side of the fence moos in response. Silly thing. You’re not sure whether you’re referring to the cow or yourself.

“I’m afraid not,” you say, shaking your head. “I didn’t know.”

The man pauses his steps and hums. His fingers go to his lips, as if this is a serious conundrum, indeed. You remember, then, that you never asked his name. He hops back over the fence and you’re about to call out when he lets out a noise of success, and saunters back with a sprig of bluebells in his hand.

You didn’t see them there before. But you were paying more attention to your hands than the flowers.

He holds them out to you, and raises his eyebrows. “They aren’t the first bluebells this year, but I don’t think it will matter much.”

Making a wish on bluebells. How silly. But it’s just the sort of thing you used to do, when you let yourself indulge more in your secrets.

You reach out and brush the petals with your fingertips, letting the soft petals and stems tickle your skin. Then you close your eyes and make a wish.

You keep that wish in your pocket with your other secrets.

---

That night, Thomas holds you too roughly in bed and pushes too roughly inside you and you close your eyes and think, suddenly, of the bluebells. And the lamb. And the blood. And Robin.

When he pulls out, the stickiness of it all makes you wince. You don’t tell him that you pretended at your own release, and he doesn’t notice the lie.

“That should take,” he says, voice breathy. He rests his head back against his pillow and glances at you. Is it wariness in his eyes, or weariness? Sometimes you wonder if he regrets the marriage. Most of your friends, married off earlier than you, were already with child. Or had one weaning from a wet nurse already.

You wonder if any of them missed their dreams and took them out of drawers and gazed at them, the way you like to do. Any notions you had of leaving town and being a painter died long ago. When your parents died, maybe--but perhaps earlier. When your parents tutted at the idea of paying for painting lessons or when they pulled you out of schooling because you didn’t need much, they said, to run a household. Or when you had that first realization that you were going to die someday, in the spring, when the flowers bloomed, and was there any point to pursuing a life when it was all going to end, anyway?

Thomas says your name and you’re pulled out of your reverie. He leans forward and kisses your cheek, and you lean against him. He’s not a bad man, really. He buys you paints. He peels his mother-in-law from your presence when she’s overbearing.

But sometimes you catch him staring at your empty belly with a frustrated sadness that makes your fingers curl.

Beside you, on the bedside table, is a sketch of bluebells you made when you came home. You didn’t bother using your paints on it--you don’t have the right blues to capture them just right.

The next day, you dutifully visit the farmer to ask about the lamb. You tell your mother-in-law this, and she smiles, grateful that you’re enduring yourself to their neighbors. It is essential, she has told you before, that you maintain a good standing in the community.

And you aren’t exactly uninterested in the lamb or the farmer. But you’re mostly hoping to run into Robin on your way there, if only to ask him to help you find more bluebells like the ones he gave you yesterday. You want to dry them out and save them, and perhaps the next time Thomas’ purse is heavy (though when that will be, considering all the things he is planning, you don’t know) he might be able to find a suitable paint.

But when you ask the farmer if he’s seen the man who helped you yesterday, he gives you a look. A look that reminds you of rapped knuckles and whispers.

“I don’t recall anyone with you yesterday,” he says, glancing behind you before giving you a look that was perhaps skin to pity. Maybe he remembers the dusty rumors from your childhood. Or maybe the sun is in his eyes.

“Well…” you start, and it’s best to shrug it all off, isn’t it? “I’m sorry to have bothered. I’m glad to hear that the lambs are doing well.”

It’s funny how easy it is to wash away strange looks with complacent, neighborly smiles. Funny and a little sad. The farmer waves you off and gives you a basket of fresh bread his wife baked and vegetables his son harvested and a tin of jam his daughter made. You imagine baking bread to give to neighbors and something inside you shudders.

So the farmer didn’t remember seeing Robin. Perhaps Robin was standing behind you. Perhaps the farmer had gotten into the drink a little early.

Perhaps Robin wasn’t real and you were losing your mind and dying from some unknown illness that was finally, finally going to kill you and--

But when you reach the fork in the road that leads in and out of town, there is Robin, leaning up against a tree, a thistle of something dancing in his teeth. He’s wearing a loose white top with frills, almost akin to an undershirt than anything else, and plain black trousers. When he catches your eye, it drops from his mouth as he practically runs toward you.

You think to ask him about the farmer, but he’s talking--there is a bit of green stem in his teeth--before you can speak.

“Did you dream of bluebells again?”

You smile, a forced politeness, and shake your head. You didn’t dream of bluebells, and it was a shame. Instead you dreamt of your belly growing big and there was an awful pain and grayness, and you were dead before your child could even walk, and your husband didn’t care--all he did was pick up the beautifully squirming baby and go on his merry way.

“I dreamt about…” But you can’t tell him about that. You wouldn’t tell your husband about this dream, much less a stranger wearing

Robin’s grin broadens. “What? You can tell me. I like hearing about these first dreams in spring, you know.”

You’ve known this man for less than two hours, yesterday’s lamb birth and walk to the farmhouse considered, but you find him refreshingly strange.

But you shake your head. You shake your head. You wouldn't burden a stranger with the troubles of your life that spill into dreams. What would this young man care about the woes of your life, anyway? Your fears about death and life and marriage. Though perhaps he had a wife. Perhaps she was at home, toiling over the hearth, while he sprawled about the woods and talked gaily with others and grinned at them and gave them flowers.

You force down the bitter kernel of resentment. It wasn't fair to him, you suppose, to spin such an assumption out of nothing. He looked young enough to remain untethered, and men often went longer without marrying, anyway. He was a helpful--albeit unusual--young man who helped you pull a lamb out of a stuck sheep and escorted you to-and-fro afterwards. That was all.

“You think too much,” he says, and the shock of it pulls you out of your thoughts and brings a bit of heat to your cheeks. You do think a lot. It’s a bad habit, started from childhood, when thinking about things (you’re going to die in the spring) was revealed as preferable to saying them out loud.

“You’ll get wrinkles,” he points out, voice sing-song, and gestures a finger towards your lips, which are set in a somewhat serious frown.

He grins.

“It doesn’t matter. Look--” He sweeps his hand down towards the ground, and you instinctively step back as you notice for the first time that there is a carpet of bluebells underneath your feet. They weren’t there before… or were they? You were so often lost in thought in the spring that you perhaps paid more attention to the limited nature of your future than you did the world around you.

And aren’t these just the most vibrant bluebells you’ve ever seen? Their color reminds you of

“Witches' thimbles,” you blurt out. He quirks his head again, like you’re a fascinating specimen at a museum. Not that you’ve ever been to one, or will likely ever go. “That’s… another name for them, isn’t it?”

Heat blossoms across your cheeks. You feel stupid. Silly. Who cares about another name for bluebells? It’s exactly the sort of thing that made people give you strange looks when you were younger--blurting out facts that no one cared to hear. Whether it was the fact of your impending demise or a stream of names for spring flowers.

But he doesn’t look at you like you’re strange. Instead, he busts out laughing.

“Yes!” Like an extremely enthusiastic tutor, thrilled that his pupil has finally gotten an answer correct. “Or wood hyacinth, lady’s nightcap…”

He crouches down and brushes his hands over the blossoms, drooping blue-purple bells that sway just enough in the breeze.

You crouch down--oh, it’s so untoward--and take a sniff. Bluebells don’t have a very strange fragrance, and you only get a bit of bright greenness. And then another name comes to you, and you can’t help the carefree grin that spreads across your face before you spit it out.

“Crow’s toes!”

He stares at you, and there’s a split second where you think ah, that was too much and now I’ve ruined everything, before he bursts into laughter.

“Cuckoo’s boots!” He counters, voice choking with mirth.

It takes you only a moment before you’re the one bursting with laughter, and your crouch turns into a full blown sit right on the ground. Your skirt will be dirty and if someone comes across the pair of you, the local gossip will never end, but you don’t seem to care in the presence of the laughing, strange young man in front of you.

When the laughter fades and you’re left inexplicably sitting on the ground in a pile of bluebells, you finally think to ask something of him. Something you really ought to have asked before, but you were distracted. By lambs and bluebells and the season itself.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before, Robert?”

“Robin,” he says, light and easy. He shrugs just as easily. “I’m only around sometimes. I like to travel.”

His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue. Not quite deep enough to mimic a bluebell, but there’s a dancing light in them. The thought is too much, and you clear your throat and help yourself to your feet.

There is a difference, you think, between being yourself (when is the laugh time you laughed giddily? The last time you made a joke? Your husband could be kind, but he was not silly or carefree or funny…) and being improper.

“Well,” and your voice is back to sounding almost prim, an echo of your mother-in-law. You are a married woman, after all. “I’m glad I’ve caught you when you’re visiting, then. Thank you--” He looks up at you, and there’s confusion in his eyes. Maybe a little hurt, too. “For your help with the lamb,” you finish.

He doesn’t stand up, which is odd enough. Instead he pulls his knees up to his chest and stares up at you. “I didn’t do much.” He sighs, a soft, long sound that makes you want to contradict him. “You could have done it even without four hands, I bet!”

The compliment makes you want to stay. It also makes you want to leave.

“It’s nothing.” You glance down at your hands. They aren’t a painter’s hands, though you often wished they were. They were a farmer’s hands. “My parents were farmers and I grew up here. It’s not the first lamb I’ve helped birth… or cow… or goat.” A low sound from your throat, a mirthless chuckle. “Or a person.”

He blinks up at you.

“Do you have children?”

Your hand goes to your stomach.

“No.”

Your lips get tight and thin and yes, perhaps it is time you left.

He groans, suddenly, and flops back on the grass. One hand splays over his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding annoyed and sorrowful and pouting all in one breath. “Ugh!” He opens his eyes and stares up at the sky. “Sore subjects, there’s always sore subjects…”

You almost feel a little sorry for him. He reminds you of… yourself. Somewhere, deep down, buried under layers of corrections that began with rapped knuckles.

“It’s all right,” you tell him, voice soft. “You didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a common enough question, I suppose.”

“Please don’t go,” he asks, and you want to smile a little at the wheedling tone in his voice. “You’re fun. I like it.”

You shake your head and lift up your skirts. It’s too much, isn’t it? Someone might see. And even if they don’t, there’s that pit growing in your stomach, a pit all women must cultivate for situations like these.

He continues to lay in the grass for a few moments, before he hoists himself up and jumps back into a standing position. He’s back to smiling, as if nothing had ever been said between you.

“If you stay…” His voice is teasing you, drawing you in, pulled candy held on a stick. “I’ll let you use these.”

And you take a step back now, when he crouches and reaches for a bag left loitering on the ground. You don’t remember seeing that bag. Maybe you are too overworked lately. Your brain must be frazzled and fried like eggs in a hot pan.

But instead of pulling out a weapon or something else that has your lips ready to shout for help, he pulls out… paints.

A set of paints. And a traveling easel, with a sheet of cloth ready to be bolted over it.

You stare at the paints. Then at the bluebells. And then at him.

“I… could stay for a little while.”

That evening, blue paint stains your fingertips while you finish your sewing for the evening. Your husband’s shirts, first; then your mother-in-law’s; then the children’s; and then your own.

There is a robin perched in the window and you laugh. A bright, beautiful sound in a room that has seen little giddiness since you and your husband have made it your home. Your husband, busy with his own work, looks up at you with a peculiar expression.

But he says nothing.

He said nothing about your fingertips, either. Although he clearly saw them when you came home. Instead of asking--and you would have told him, surely?--he pursed his lips and gave your arm an affectionate squeeze and told you that he’d bartered for some fresh cheese from the neighbor.

You like cheese, so you’d thanked him, and went about your day.

And now it was evening, bordering nightfall, and the time for chores has ended as a new nightly task was set before you. The task that had you unfastening the laces of your dress, and then your stays, and climbing into bed in your night chemise to wait for your husband.

The window behind you was open, letting in the cool spring air. Singing crickets were as good as music and darkened pinks and purples filtered through the window, the last bits of dappled colors before night would come.

The robin is still there when you tilt your head up and look out the window to catch the fleeting sunlight.

And you swear the bird quirks its head as your husband unfastens his trousers and climbs into bed.

It’s not right to do this. You know it’s not. But you meet Robin again, and again, and again. The spring seems longer than ever and for once you are not fretting about childhood prophecies, you are not foregoing thoughts of happiness and friendships because you’re worried about the fact that you won’t live to cherish them forever.

Instead, you’re meeting with Robin at the same spot, the far far end of the neighbor’s fence where only the lambs like to go. Where the stubborn lamb was born and comes, sometimes, sneaking underneath the fence and sitting between the two of you.

Together, you paint. After a while, Robin brought a proper easel with him, along with a canvas worth more than ten of the canvases your husband could ever afford to buy you. And the paints, oh the paints! Such rich shades that perfectly mimic the natural colors of the world around you. For once, you are making progress on bluebells that aren’t hampered by a limitation in color or quantity.

But you don’t just paint. You talk. About your dreams and the future and everything but your secret. Because for once, you’re not thinking about it.

Because Robin makes you laugh.

Because he makes you feel like yourself, or someone you used to be. Like you can peel off layers of smoke and grease and find yourself again, fresh and new.

Because he makes you feel unmarried.

And if you come home later than usual, if you sing more than you ever had before, if your smiles and laughs fill the house with a lightness it has been sorely missing… is that such a bad thing? Your paintings of bluebells are hung up in your bedroom, and your husband hums at them and says they look pretty. And it’s not exactly like being a real painter but it’s nice enough for the life that you have--and that’s all we can ever hope for, isn’t it?

Robin’s kisses are tinged with the flowers he likes to nibble on now and then. Spicy and sweet.

Today his kiss tastes of honey and you draw back and press disbelieving fingers to your lips. When he grins, as he always does, his mouth is sticky with thick, orange honey.

“Wh--where did you get--” You sputter, licking the taste in your mouth. A delicious floral honey, earthy and sweet.

“Honeycomb.” He gestures behind him, somewhere in that wild, beautiful forest that surrounds the carefully plotted paths the townspeople made so long ago. Then he pulls out a chewed piece of raw honeycomb, jagged and broken. It’s a wonder he didn’t get stung.

You laugh--oh Robin, silly Robin--and say nothing more, but lean forward and begin to lick the rest of it from his lips.

Before the afternoon is out, the two of you make love for the first time. Beneath the tree, above the bluebells, yards away from the stubborn lamb who fell asleep by the fencepost hours before.

“You wicked slut!”

There is a flesh-colored blur and then a sting across your face. Not painful but humiliating and surprising and oh God, you think, at least it wasn’t my knuckles.

She knew. They knew. Your mother-in-law and your husband and probably half the town, if not the whole of it. Someone saw you two (the farmer? You hope not, thinking of his basket and his smile, but thinking of his strange look at you, too) and your mother-in-law has put two and two together to make four.

Four being that you and this young man are clearly engaged in something other than paintings and picnics. You could tell her that you’ve only kissed, nothing more. But it would be worse to admit to anything right now, when gossip has inflamed her imagination.

Do you dare look at your husband? No. Not for more than a second. He stands, firm, his mouth pressed into a frown. But he says nothing as his mother screams at you and slaps you once, and then twice.

“Have you been together?” She practically shrieks the words out, and spittle flies towards your tingling cheek.

“I--” You don’t answer, but your stuttering is enough. Your face is enough. The way your body seems to shrink inward is enough.

Your mother-in-law’s voice turns into a ragged gasp, and she huffs until she sits herself down in a chair pulled from the kitchen. She’s done, burnt out, probably thinking of ways to turn you out of the house.

You don’t know what else to do, so you turn towards Thomas and look at him as fully as you can despite the pain in your cheek and the guilt rolling about your chest.

He stares at you for a moment. And then he raises a hand to slap you, the way his mother had slapped you, the way that his mother has slapped the children and no doubt, the way she slapped him, when he was a child.

But he doesn’t touch you. His hand lowers, slow, and you catch a hint of tears in his voice as he tells you to go to the bedroom and stay there.

Guilt, regret and rebellion, turn over in equal measure in your stomach.

You’re not allowed to walk beyond the plot of the garden fence surrounding your home. Your mother-in-law forbids it, and your husband does not contradict her.

He does tell her that you are never to be slapped again, and that is at least something.

But what relief comes from that is overshadowed when he throws away your paints and your papers, your sketch pad and your pencils.

“No more,” he says, voice low. “No more.”

“Why?” You ask, and you see yourself in his eyes. A wife who sneaks out of the home to dally with young men in the forest, a wife who comes home with paint on her fingers, who stains his mended shirts with the color of bluebells.

He says nothing. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and asks you to mind the cooking supper while his mother goes into town.

You begin to throw up in the mornings.

You begin to have strange dreams, feverish ones, of bluebells and births and sticky dark lamb’s blood.

It’s not until your mother-in-law treats you more tenderly that you realize what it all means. The sickness and dreams and odd feeling in yourself.

You haven’t bled since the end of winter.

You are with child.

The news lightens the household. At least, it lightens Thomas and his mother, who is beside herself with preparations for you. She spends the evenings working on a pile of baby clothes and often comes home from the market with fruits said to ease your stomach, poultices she swears will be ideal when you begin to have swollen feet.

You don’t want to have swollen feet. You don’t want to think about how Thomas must now build the addition to the home sooner than anticipated, and how you’ll have to learn how to feed your child and raise your child, and how there will always be a tether between the two of you that could be snipped at any moment.

Your husband brings you things that are pretty and sweet. But never paints. You don’t think you’ll ever see him walk through the threshold with those again.

But you can’t complain about how he treats you. He insists on buying cushions for the chairs, so you don’t have to sit down as far. He minds what you eat. He holds you in the night, and no longer insists on entering you--a respite in several ways.

He says nothing when you look pensive in the evenings, hands itching for your pencils, your paints.

He never asks whether or not the child might be his, which is just as well--because you have no idea.

The robin comes back only once, which dispels your fantastical notions that perhaps it’s been Robin in disguise all along. That would be ridiculous, of course. Just as ridiculous as the notion that you were some carefree unmarried thing, free to dance about with a stranger in the woods. Just as ridiculous as the notion that you’re going to die in the spring.

“Please?”

Thomas frowns. You haven’t been allowed past the garden in several weeks. It was now nearing the end of spring, your dreaded season, and something deep inside you was going mad with the need to see something past the confines of your marital home.

“Just to the end of the path and back.” You sigh and stretch your legs, lifting up your skirts to show him your swollen ankles. “It will be good for my legs. And fresh air is good for the baby, or so your mother says.”

Thomas can be stern. He has a right to be, you assure yourself, all things considered. But he is not terribly cruel. And so he sighs and tells you yes, but only to the end of the path, and don’t stop for strangers, and come right home.

And you intend to obey him like a dutiful spouse. You really do.

It’s just… when you get to the end of the path, near the fork in the road…

There is the bleating of the lamb.

The smell of bluebells, richer than before.

The twitch of your hand, aching for a brush and paints.

And Robin, leaning up against a tree, a flower rolling in between his teeth like a wayward goat.

He catches your eye, and pushes himself off the tree. His grin is as easy as it was the day you met him and the many days in between.

What do you say in situations like these? Your heart thuds, but offers no answer. Your stomach twists, but says nothing at all.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, head downcast. “I haven’t been able to come.”

“Hm?” You glance up, and he quirks his head. Like a bird. “It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s been weeks, and there’s a stinging in your chest. You’re one of many, most certainly. Or he does have a wife at home and he’s been busy with her and you’re a silly, stupid fling that he’s forgotten about. Heat rushes to your cheek faster than it should--damned pregnancy.

“Sorry,” he says, his eyes wide and his smile chipper. “I said something stupid, didn’t I? I don’t have a head for time.” He sighs, and the soft, languid sound of it goes a long way towards soothing your hurt.

Then he finally looks down at the swell of your stomach and his eyes get wide, the crisp blue of them seeming to glitter as he

“I see…”

He walks a few paces back to the tree and plops down, his back against the bark. You hesitate. You should go home. Someone will see you. More than that, you said you’d go back. You can’t even keep your word, how are you ever going to raise a child?

But you take one step and then another, and Robin reaches out and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

The silence between you feels uncomfortable. But apparently Robin feels nothing of the sort, because all he does is stretch out his legs and pull out his bag (and God, you swear, where did it come from today?) to retrieve paints and easels and your fingers practically shake as he hands them to you.

You talk while you paint, but there is nothing light about your conversation this afternoon. Just as there is nothing light about your painting. It is bluebells, yes. But not a pretty field of them buzzing with bees and floating dandelion seeds and spring sun. Instead it is dark and overcast, the soggy aftermath of a storm.

“I want it on my terms,” you say, and your frown is so set that your teeth begin to ache. Robin hums, and your brush drags down over the canvas, agitated. He doesn’t understand. He can’t. He’s…

Robin watches you paint, and then pulls up a long blade of grass and begins to chew on it.

“Tell me, then.” As if it’s the easiest thing in the world to say to anyone. Much less him, in your current state.

“Thomas told me this morning,” you begin, laying it out with a simmering anger. “That perhaps I can paint again when we’re done having children. When they’re grown. When it will be… appropriate.” The word drips from your mouth like poison.

How often have you heard that damned word in this world? It’s not appropriate to tell people that you see green people in the woods. It’s not appropriate to tell your mother that you met a fairy and she was very nice, and gave you a flower to put under your bed when you slept. It’s not appropriate to mention at breakfast that the flower was magic and it told you your future, that you were going to die in the spring and that was that.

You don’t notice that you’ve stopped painting until Robin’s hand is on yours. When you glance at him, he looks a little serious, and it’s so unlike him that the brush slides from your fingers so that they can intertwine with his own.

“Tell me,” he says. “About the secret in your pocket.”

Your throat constricts. “I don’t have a secret… in my pocket or otherwise.” You feel heavy, suddenly. Because of your skirts and your child and your life.

“I was your secret for a while, wasn’t I?” He taps your nose, a gesture that might have made you giggle a few weeks ago, but now only makes you frustrated. He’s never serious enough, when you need him to be. “You can tell me.” He quirks his head--the bird--and adds, lightly. “I already know, but I’d rather you tell me.”

And… you do.

You tell him about the woods and things you weren’t supposed to see, and your dream about your death that has followed you ever since. You tell him about the way people looked at you until you stopped talking about it at all. You tell him about Thomas’ mother slapping you and the baby growing inside you and the fear that you will die before it is born or die before it is old or die before you’re ever, ever allowed to paint again.

When you’re done, he laughs. He throws back his head and laughs, and it hurts and confuses and tears are blinked away as you try to muster up what to say to him.

The blade of grass gets curled up in his mouth, and he blows on it--a whistle.

“It’s easy. Just don’t get any older.”

It was your turn to laugh. A short, bitter thing.

“Everyone grows old.”

They do, don’t they? Growing old has been a part of you since childhood. Eggs to chicks to hens to table. Watching your grandfather go from lifting you up high to sitting in a chair to lying on a table, his body looking waxy and stiff as everyone wept around you and the room smelled funny.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. As if the very idea was ridiculous.

“You don’t have to do what they want. Grow old--or don’t. Be a painter--or don’t.”

Your fingers brush over the unfinished canvas in front of you.

“Even if I could stay young forever--and I can’t. I… I can’t be a painter when my husband won’t buy me paints.” You frown, which only deepens as you speak. “Or when I’m about to have a child, who will need me to nurse it and care for it, who will pull on my skirts when it learns to walk, who will need to be wiped and washed and taught. And soon enough I’ll be just like Thomas’ mother, and I’ll nag my own daughter-in-law and maybe I’ll slap her when she displeases me. And then my children will be grown but I’ll be old and I won’t be able to hold a brush even if I wanted to.” You take a breath. “And that’s assuming I don’t die well before then, in a spring just like this, and everyone else moves on after me because that’s just what you do when people die.”

He shakes off your words like morning dew. Unimportant, silly things.

“You made a wish.” He picks a bluebell and twirls the stem in his fingers. “You dreamt of bluebells and you got the first wish of spring, and it will come true.”

There’s a pang of stinging irritation in your chest. Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed. It feels like no time at all has passed between you and all the time in the world at the same time.

“Robin.” There’s patience in your voice, and something sterner that reminds you of Thomas’ mother. “Wishes aren’t real. Not like that.” You can’t just wish yourself to never grow old or be a painter or do whatever it is you want in this practical, limited place called life.

His smile softens, sweetly. You’re reminded of the kiss with honey between his teeth.

“You had a dream that you would die in spring, and that is real. But you don’t trust in wishes?”

His fingers tighten over yours. Just enough for you to notice. And then they loosen and he’s splaying his hand out, palm up. “Come with me, then. I’ll make your wish come true.”

And he doesn't say it soft and honeyed and low, a temptation. He says it with sureness--with a grin on his face, with the gold in his hair shimmering in the afternoon light, with the blueness of flowers in his eyes.

“It could always be like this,” he says, looking out towards the fence across the way. “If you come with me.” The stubborn little lamb toddles after its mother and there are bluebells surrounding you and Robin at your side.

And a baby in your belly.

“What about my baby?” You blurt out the words, a hand resting on your stomach.

He shrugs, and far away, the lamb bleats. You realize that he never asked if it was his child. Like Thomas, he says nothing of it. It's a baby in your belly and that is that, or so it seems.

“Keep it if you want to. Or we can give it away, if you feel bad.”

You don’t ask to whom you’ll be giving it away, but the way he says it unnerves you, untethers you just a little.

You don’t think he’s talking about leaving the child with an orphanage or on the doorstep of a kindly neighbor. Beads of sweat stick to your back and you think of the stones you used to see in the woods as a child. Large, smooth paved stones. Someone (your grandmother? A neighbor? A whispering thing that dripped words in your ear while you slept?) told you that women left babies there to be taken by fairies and spirits and anything else that would have them.

Green men didn’t always look green, and just where did Robin get his bag and his paints and his bluebells?

You don’t bother asking him what he meant. You’re not sure, really, that he’d tell you.

The thought of not keeping your child never actually registered before today. But then, running away with Robin never registered until this moment either.

What do you want? You stare at Robin’s outstretched palm and look at your own naked one. The memory of the stinking rich lifeblood on it comes to mind, as does the sight of your friend’s round bellies, the screams and sweat of the birthing rooms you attended with your mother.

Is that what you want? A child? That life? The uncertainty of wondering when when when will I die?

There’s a lurch in your chest and you want to leave before it becomes too much. You stand, wobbling, refusing Robin’s hand and starting down the path without another word.

He yells after you, jovial, unconcerned.

“Tomorrow! It has to be tomorrow!”

On the way home, your hand plucks the last of the blooming spring flowers so that you can explain your long absence in front of what you’re sure will be frowning, tutting faces.

But when you stride frantically in, skin flushed and hand clutching a bouquet, everyone stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. You were gone less than a half hour--the time it normally takes to walk up the path and back.

That night, your bed feels rock hard. Or maybe it’s just your nerves that keep you afloat, refusing to let you sink into the mattress as you’d like to do.

Your hand rests on your stomach and Thomas isn’t in bed yet, late nights doing work to make more money to build you an attachment so that you aren’t sharing the same space as his mother forever, and you both love and hate that he’s not here.

If he was here, you might not have the luxury of thinking about anything at all.

But you do, and the thoughts race inside your head, bouncing to and fro like frantic children.

Do you go with Robin? Is Robin a human? Do you keep the baby? Can you leave Thomas? Is it better to live here and die here or go somewhere else and perhaps, be there forever?

There is no bird in your window that night, but you swear you smell the delicate scent of bluebells. Fresh and green and bitter, right under your nose.

Thomas lets you walk to the end of the path again, because you complain about your swelling legs and he thinks getting out of the house is better for your increasingly isolated mind.

And so, here you stand at the fork in the road.

You could turn around and walk home. Back to your husband and his mother and the new life that awaits there. You would let your mother-in-law tut over you and tell you the best way to nurse and feed and how long to wait after birth to conceive another. You would let Thomas guide you and hold you and look at you with stern pity when you wanted nothing more than to paint. You would live there and die there, and who knows when that would be? Could you stand the agony of each spring, every shifting season, promising life for others and death for you? Could you stand never picking up your paints again?

You could walk towards the farm. To the lamb and to Robin, to a beginning that might not have an end at all. You could see if Robin’s skin would peel back green or if he knew where to leave your child so that it could have a good life (but would it?) and ask him if he meant it, when he said you never grow old.

What life do you choose? Which one could be called a life at all? Both? Neither?

Take a step back. Take a step forward.

Stop keeping secrets in your pocket and splay them out on the table and make a choice.

Make a damned choice.

But you don’t get to make one, after all.

Instead, a familiar hand grabs your wrist and tugs you forward, and you stumble over bluebells that don’t crumple down even when you trample on them.

“Robin--”

He’s there, smiling and holding onto you, and behind him is a wild field of bluebells that are so thick and fragrant it’s as if you walked into a maze of them. You spin around, his wrist still holding your own, but the path is gone. That world is gone, lost and brushed over with this hazy spring afternoon.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your nose. He smells like flowers and honey and something bitter underneath that has perhaps always been there, covered with the scent of paints and lamb's blood and your own uncertainty.

“Well?” His grin is as vivacious as ever, and his chestnut hair seems to shine more deeply here, glimmering with golden hues that beg to be run through with your fingers.

In his eyes is the lamb, the roundness of your belly, the deep hue of the bluebells in your dream and the paint that stained your fingers. Were his eyes always so rich? Or did you fill them with your conversations and your laughter, your kisses and your touches? Just as he filled you with dreams and smiles and an airiness you'd long since plastered over.

“Come on!”

He pulls you along, laughing and you don’t know where you’re going. Whether you will live forever or ever paint again or what it will be like. You only know the three of you will start there together, whether you wanted it or not.

You were always, in the end, going to die in the spring.

#yandere #yandere oc #seasonal spirit #afterwitch writes #my bb!!!#wahh I can't believe he's done and the series is rounded out #how funny that one person being like hey you should do other seasons #led me to do this ;asdfsd #seasonal spirits #folklore writing #original stuffs

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zikariogirl · 1 year

Text

‘ 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 ’ — 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧-𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨, ⇨

❥ 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠: ‘𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥’ 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐚𝐛𝐝𝐮𝐥

summary ┆ working at wusang was a dream come true for you. you had great friendships there and even began to develop feelings for a certain intern. but things started to change — big reveals left you shocked, and instead of running away you felt yourself become more captivated by him. . . and he seems to notice you as well. nothing in this world really matters to jang han-seok, but you? he will burn the whole world for you.

key: bold = english

warnings ┆ not really a warning but a bit ooc han-seok only cause he’ll be a simp for you… but i’m still writing his character as accurate as i can!

Your feet were killing you from all the running you’ve been doing today. It’s been a hectic day at the law firm and it seems like everyone has it out for you since you simply could not catch a break. From having to file paper work, make phone calls, even grabbing coffee for some people; it was a lot.

You were out of breath and leaning against a wall when someone ran up behind you to spook you.

“Boo!”

You screamed and slapped whoever it was that scared you, your eyes widening when you saw Joon-woo rubbing his cheek.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

“That was very funny,” Cha-young laughed and wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“Wow you hit hard,” Joon-woo pouted down at you.

“Don’t scare me like that,” you playfully slapped his arm, earning a groan from him in return.

“Yeah well he had it coming,” Cha-young rolled her eyes before giving you a hug. “By the way, we won!”

You hugged her back just as tightly, a smile forming on your lips. “Really? I’m so proud of you!”

You could say the two of you were rather close, almost like sisters. Other than Joon-woo — who she can barely tolerate — you were the only person in the law firm that she genuinely liked. You both grew incredibly close and are practically inseparable. She was your favorite person in the world until Joon-woo started to work at Wusang, and it’s been a battle for your attention ever since.

You and Cha-young both held hands and began to jump around in circles while you squealed before Joon-woo wrapped his arms around you two and jumped in.

“Hey hey,” Cha-young shoved him away. “This is our girl moment.”

“Aren’t I considered one of the girls?” He grinned while pressing his index finger against his cheek.

Cha-young looked at him with disgust. “No you moron.”

“You’re so mean to him,” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hands. “You will always be one of the girls.”

He smiled at you but had to quickly excuse himself when he felt his phone ringing. “I will see you two later. Bye besties.”

He proceeded to twirl away like a ballerina, and while you looked at him with admiration, Cha-young was definitely unamused.

“You like that?”

“He’s so cute.”

The three of you decided to celebrate after work and although you insisted that drinks would be on you, Cha-young refused to let you pay at all. You sometimes get a little too carried away when it comes down to drinking, seeing as how you already drank about four bottles of soju and was feeling tipsy already.

“I love you twooo,” you slurred as you grabbed both of their hands.

“______ you’re drunk,” Joon-woo laughed and you quickly hushed him.

“Not yet. I’m just tipsy.”

“That’s what they all say,” Cha-young shook her head with a smile before looking down at her phone. “Anyways I have to go. This is for the soju.” She placed a couple of bills in your hand but quickly grabbed them and handed it over to Joon-woo. “I don’t trust her with it.”

“I got it boss,” Joon-woo gave her a thumbs up. “Bye!”

“Goodbye my love!” You waved at Cha-young and blew her a kiss.

“Why don’t you ever call me that?” Joon-woo pouted.

You weren’t sure if he was joking or being serious, but considering your friendship, he was probably kidding around with you. It sort of hurt, knowing he probably doesn’t feel the same way, but you still cherished every little comment and touch you shared with Joon-woo. You felt yourself lean against his shoulder as you softly caressed his arm.

“Okay my love, I’m sorry.”

Your heart began to beat erratically inside your chest and you felt him wrap his arms around you. Maybe the alcohol was making him act weird as well, but when he asked if you wanted to go for a drive, you almost slapped him again. Even though you weren’t one-hundred percent sober, you were very much aware that drunk driving was not only against the law but super careless. Joon-woo promised you that he wasn’t tipsy or under the influence, and he shook his two empty bottles of soju in front of your face to prove his point — he also drank a good amount of water too.

In the end, you agreed to go on a drive through the city with him, having the windows rolled down while the wind fanned your faces and you both sang your hearts out. You sang to Perfect Man, Careless Whisper, some BTS songs, hell you even did some throwbacks and sang to the Backstreet Boys.

The night was amazing. It felt like a dream.

You were currently blasting ‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’ while you stuck your head out the window and let the wind blow your hair back, your eyes closed as you held your right arm out.

“But now, there’s no where to hide! Since you pushed my love aside! I’m outta my head, hopelessly devoted to you!”

You were too busy singing to even notice Joon-woo smile in your direction. You looked ethereal to him. The way your beautiful hair is flowing in the wind, how your voice sounds angelic when you sing, the way your smile lights up the night sky. He was incredibly whipped — if you could put it that way. He has never met anyone be so…perfect. He doesn’t know what it is about you, but he feels drawn to you, like you were meant to keep him grounded. The one pure thing in this world that he genuinely deserves.

He wants you to be his. He wants that so bad.

But for now, he has to wait. There’s no rush in making you his yet. Joon-woo wants to make sure he does this correctly because usually, he makes sure he gets what he wants when he needs it. But you’re delicate, you’re pure, you’re someone that managed to crawl inside his cold heart and slowly thaw it out. He doesn’t want to risk losing you or scaring you away, so in the mean time, he will cherish whatever friendship it is that you two share.

—

“He said what?!”

You and Cha-young were in her office as you spoke about your amazing night with Joon-woo. After he dropped you off at your place, you could’ve sworn it was going to lead to a kiss. The way he looked at you, with so much intensity, it made you feel weak in your knees. You wanted that kiss so bad but all he did was open the door for you, guide you inside, give you a glass of water, and give you a goodbye hug.

“At first when you left he pouted and asked why I never call him ‘my love’. Then I lean into him, apologize while calling him that, and he wrapped his arm around me. Cha-young I almost fainted.”

“Okay, then what?”

“We went on a drive and I made sure he wasn’t tipsy or drunk, which he wasn’t. It literally felt like something straight out of a kdrama. I just,” you let out a dreamy sigh and dropped yourself onto the ground, “it was perfect.”

“I mean this isn’t the first time you’ve hung out with just him right?”

“No, but it was definitely… different.”

“Ah that Joon-woo,” Cha-young frowned while pursing her lips. “Such a moron to not realize what a catch he has in front of him.”

“Maybe he likes you,” you suggested with a pout but wasn’t being serious about it.

“Me? Ha! Never in a million years! I terrorize him enough and even if he did, he’s not my type. I can beat him up for you.”

“You already do with your words.”

“I can also do it physically.”

“But then you’ll ruin his perfect face–”

“Hello my besties!”

Your eyes widened at his sudden arrival, and he walked around the table only to stop when he noticed you on the floor.

“Oh? What are you doing down there?”

“Dying.”

“Ah,” he nodded his head.

Cha-young stomped towards Joon-woo and slapped him on his shoulder. “Do you knock you moron?”

He awkwardly laughed. “So sorry but the boss man called. Mr. Han said that Babel Pharmaceutical’s Drug Development Division called because one of their researchers that was in quarantine went missing.”

“What?!”

You slowly sat up. “This is top secret information. I must go.”

“No, you’re coming with us.”

“Huh?” Both you and Joon-woo said at the same time. Cha-young seemed pissed and didn’t even acknowledge you both as she grabbed her bag and marched out the office, like a lion ready to mangle its prey. You and Joon-woo looked at each other with confusion before you both hurried out of the office and tailed behind the angry lawyer.

The three of you reached your destination in no time and you stood behind Cha-young — who was sitting down and was eerily quiet. Joon-woo on the other hand? He was getting after the two pharmacists in front you.

“It’s been two days. Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Look at her,” he gestured at Cha-young. “She’s so upset!”

“I’m sorry,” one of the pharmacists apologized.

“My god… seriously,” Joon-woo hissed out.

Seeing him angry…was kinda hot.

Cha-young finally broke her silence as she glared at the two men. “I told you to keep a close eye on all the newly employed researchers. I didn’t want them to complain, so I got them to stay at the chairman’s villa!” She stood up and paused for a second before continuing. “If that researcher talks nonsense, we’ll lose this suit.”

“And that new drug, it’ll be the end of it as well!” Joon-woo stepped in.

“I’m truly sorry,” one of them apologized… again before the two bowed.

This was truly frustrating to watch.

“Do the higher ups know?” You involuntarily spoke without realizing it, making everyone look at you. You placed a fist over your mouth and slowly turned away.

“No ma’am. They don’t.”

“Then let’s keep it that way. Don’t you dare tell them,” Cha-young glared at them.

“Never!” Joon-woo pointed a finger.

After the two pharmacists agreed and you three took your leave, you walked out of the building to sort of decompress the conversation. Cha-young was still irritated — rightfully so. Joon-woo was saying things that irritated her more. And you? Well, you were there for support. Things took a turn when Cha-young spotted the Chairman of Babel, Jang Han-seo, and practically ran to him. The whole encounter was short since he seemed to be in a hurry and it almost felt like he brushed her off in the end, which made your jaw drop.

“I get that he’s a chairman, but how can he talk down on us on our first encounter?” You frowned and crossed your arms.

“And he’s young too,” Joon-woo hissed.

“Anyone who’s rich and powerful can do so even if they’re younger than me,” Cha-young spoke with displeasure.

You scoffed. “With that mindset, you might as well have a child actor tell you what to do.”

The three of you stood there for a while before Cha-young excused herself and said her goodbye’s, claiming she had somewhere to go. Both you and Joon-woo watched her leave before he tapped your shoulder with a smile.

“Want some steak? I got paid yesterday.”

“You don’t even have to ask me twice, let’s go!”

And boy was that steak so damn good. Maybe it’s the fact you were starving since you skipped out on breakfast, which was definitely a bad idea on your part. You didn’t even bother eating anything since you woke up with such a grimm taste on your mouth due to the alcohol. All you did was pop a mint into your mouth after you brushed your teeth, got ready, and went to work.

“Wow you’re going to finish before me,” Joon-woo’s jaw dropped. “Did you not eat breakfast?”

“I didn’t have time. After you dropped me off last night I went to bed and felt super woozy and just knocked out. Woke up feeling like crap, plus, I was running late too.”

“You can’t skip out on meals though,” he pouted with a small frown. “You’ll get sick.”

“Aw, you care about my well being?” You cooed.

“Of course I care,” he muttered to himself before taking a bite out of his steak.

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach at his words and you took a sip of your water, trying to fight the blush on your cheeks.

“______ do you like anybody?”

Cue you choking on your water as you lightly spit it out. Joon-woo immediately stood up to help you while you embarrassingly coughed so loud that everyone decided to look at you. You cleaned your face with a napkin while Joon-woo patted your back, and you were quick to hit his stomach, making him flinch.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you and Cha-young were talking about it.”

Holy fuck did he hear us?

“I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but I did hear her saying she’ll beat someone up for you and you said no since it’ll ruin his perfect face,” he sighed. “Am I not one of the girls after all?”

“That’s different girl talk though,” you quickly defended yourself.

“So you do like someone?”

“I never said that.”

“But you’re acting suspicious.”

“Okay so what if I do?”

“Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

“Who is it?”

He was bombarding you with questions and you felt cornered. It didn’t help that he was practically leaning into you while one hand rested on your chair and the other on the table. If he leaned in just a little closer, you could easily move your head up and kiss him. Why is he curious about your love life? Does he like you?

“Why do you wanna know so bad, hm?” You pressed.

“Just looking after you. Cha-young may be fierce but I have the muscle.” He stepped back and punched the air while doing sound effects. “No one will dare hurt you.”

Oh, so he’s just being a good friend. You’re gonna let that disappointment sink in right about now.

“I’m still not telling you.”

“But why?” He whined.

“Do you like anybody?”

“I actually do.”

Your fork clattered onto your plate while you stared up at him. He was smiling and looking up at the ceiling, and he appeared to be daydreaming or something. He sat back down on his chair and you did your best to hold your composure.

“Oh. What’s she like?”

Joon-woo let out a dreamy sigh. “She’s amazing. Hard-working. Has a good sense of humor. She’s perfect to me.”

You wanted to throw up. Your appetite vanished and the delicious steak that sat in front of you didn’t seem appetizing anymore. Your hands felt numb and you could literally feel your heart breaking at his words.

“She sounds nice,” you mumbled while plastering your best fake smile.

“Mhm. I really want to ask her out but I just don’t know how do it. I think she likes someone else though, but that won’t make me give up.”

Maybe you should. Forget her.

“Joon-woo, she’s an idiot for not liking you.”

“You think so?” His eyes brightened. “How should I ask her out then?”

Why the fuck are you the one that has to listen to this conversation? Why couldn’t it of been Cha-young? You could either just walk away and lie about your stomach hurting and leave him here, or you could genuinely help him. You didn’t want to be a bad friend, and you most definitely didn’t want to bail on him just because you felt jealous and was undergoing a heartbreak. You weren’t that type of friend. He deserves everything, especially your support. If he doesn’t like you, then you can’t do anything about it. It is what it is and you have to suck it up.

“Start off by getting her small gifts. Flowers, food, anything she likes. Compliment her when she’s feeling down or when she thinks she doesn’t look great… she’ll eventually start to notice you. Buy her a bouquet of flowers, something really pretty, then pour out your feelings and let her know how much she means to you.”

You wanted to cry. Your eyes were brimming with tears and you were just a second away from a breakdown.

“Excuse me I have to pee.”

You shot out of your seat and ran to the bathroom, and the moment you stepped inside, you broke. You have never felt this type of heartbreak before, not even with your previous partners. Joon-woo isn’t even your boyfriend, and yet, he’s the one who broke you more. You were a crying mess while you pulled out your phone and called Cha-young. The moment she heard your sobs, she went crazy. You told her what happened but made her promise to not kill Joon-woo after this, and that took a lot of convincing.

“Can you just… p-please call him and make up an excuse. I-I don’t think I can be here right now.”

“Ah! This is so frustrating! I can’t just hit him at all?”

“No.”

She mumbled a few curse words before replying. “Fine. Send me the address and I’ll be on my way. I’ll think of something.”

“Thank you.”

You hung up and gave yourself a bit more time before stepping out. You washed your face and applied a bit of make up to hide the fact that you were just crying. When you stepped back outside and began to walk towards your table, you noticed Joon-woo was on the phone.

“But we’re having steak,” he replied and shot you a wave when he saw you. “Cha-young please,” he whined before letting out a huff. “Fine.”

“What happened?”

“Cha-young called saying she needed you for some errands. She said you weren’t answering her calls.”

“Really?” You acted clueless and pulled out your phone, staring at your empty lock screen. “Oh wow, I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “She’s on her way to pick you up.”

“Did she say where we were going?”

“Nope.”

You nodded your head and turned your attention back towards your steak, gently stabbing it with your fork. Joon-woo squinted his eyes when he noticed your change in demeanor.

“Hey, you okay?”

Fuck.

But right on cue, your phone began to ring and you quickly answered it. Relief hit you when you heard Cha-young say she was outside and you shot Joon-woo a sad smile.

“Sorry, I have to go. Be safe heading back home and text me when you get there!” You scurried out of your seat and paused for a second. “Good luck with that girl.”

Then you left, leaving a completely dumbfounded and upset Joon-woo behind.

—

The next few weeks definitely felt different and you tried to put as much distance between you and Joon-woo as possible. He seemed to pick up on it and would try to follow you around, asking if something is going on. You would put your best poker face and tell him that everything was okay and you were just busy with work. He didn’t seem to buy your excuse but you didn’t care anymore. You wanted to get over whatever feelings you had for him.

Then, the tragic news hit of Cha-young’s father passing away, and she was a mess. You knew they never got along but you weren’t blind to the fact that deep down she cared for him. He was her father after all. Even though Joon-woo was there for her, you were the one who slept over at her place — well her dad’s house — to cheer her up and offer her a shoulder to cry on. You were devastated when she left Wusang though, but nonetheless, you’ll still be able to see her outside of work.

When you received a call from her that she was apparently detained, you grabbed Joon-woo and ran towards the police station to bail her out.

But instead, a rather handsome guy wearing a suit waltzed in, providing concrete proof and demanding for her to be released. He definitely held some power to him and you wondered if he was her new partner since she did take over her father’s law firm. The moment you all left, she immediately walked towards his direction as he spoke on the phone.

“He’s smart,” spoke Joon-woo.

You nodded in agreement. “He’s also hot, but wow do they look good together.”

“Hot?” Joon-woo’s voice sounded a bit rough, but he cleared his throat and fixed his collar. “I mean, maybe they’re dating.”

You squinted your eyes. “No… she would’ve told me about it. I think he’s that lawyer she’s been telling me about.”

“Vincenzo Cassano?”

“Mhm,” you nodded your head and shoved your hands in your pockets while walking over to them, Joon-woo following behind.

“Lawyer Vincenzo Cassano?” Joon-woo curiously asked.

The man turned around with an impressed look. “You’re the first Korean to pronounce my name correctly.”

Joon-woo smiled at the compliment. “I used to be her assistant back in Wusang. I’m Jang Joon-woo.”

“And I’m _____ _____, you’ll probably hear more about me.”

Vincenzo nodded his head but squinted his eyes at Joon-woo. “How do you know me?”

“Ah, because I did a background check on you for Cha-young.”

Cue him doubling over after Cha-young kicked his leg. You choked back a laugh and shook your head when everyone’s eyes landed on you.

“Sooo, are you two working close?” You asked with a smile.

Vincenzo just looked at you with a bored expression before walking off. “No.”

Your jaw dropped at his rudeness, and Cha-young apologized on his behalf before saying goodbye to you and chasing after the dickhead.

“What an asshole,” you muttered. “He’s not boyfriend material.”

“Well I think him and Cha-young are perfect for each other. They’re both cranky, lawyers, and–”

You didn’t even bother listening to what Joon-woo was saying as you walked away, waving him over to follow since you both had to head back to work.

“Wait.” Even though he was limping, he managed to catch up to you. You felt him grab your wrist and twirl you around to face him. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been… different lately. Ever since that day I took you out for steak. Did something happen?”

“No,” you feigned innocence.

His expression grew serious when he let out a deep sigh. “I know you were crying in the bathroom.”

“How? You spied on me?”

He shook his head. “No but the lady next to us was heading to the bathroom too… until she heard you crying. She thought you were my girlfriend and told me, and she mentioned you speaking to someone on the phone.”

Why the fuck are people so nosy?

“Did you call Cha-young to pick you up?” He was grabbing your shoulders at this point and you refused to make eye contact with him. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about Joon-woo,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“______,” he bent down so he could be at eye level with you. “Why won’t you talk to me. Did I do something?”

He looked defeated and it made you feel guilty. Why are you making his life hell when he doesn’t deserve it? It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same for you. You preached about being a good friend to him, yet, you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder ever since your conversation about his crush.

You swallowed back the lump on your throat and smiled up at him. “No no, it’s not you. I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch lately–”

“You’re not a bitch.”

“Shh,” you placed your finger on his lips. “Let me finish. I was going through some stuff and my boy trouble didn’t help. Then when you started to talk about the girl you liked and how you probably made more progress with her, I just felt like poop because the guy I like and I have made zero progress. I was just sulking and the whole thing with Cha-young’s dad also happened. I took it out on you and I’m sorry Joon-woo.”

He didn’t say anything as he processed your apology, so instead you hugged him, not even caring if he returned it, but the moment you felt him wrap his arms around you, you felt happy. “Can my bestie forgive me? I’ll treat you to some ice cream.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed. “Let’s get some ice cream.”

And for the first time in a while, you felt happy.

—

You were once again running around the law firm, attending to errands and requests by the lawyers around you. You have never been bossed around so much in your life before and it was definitely frustrating. Some of these lawyers had ridiculous requests but you knew better than to question them. You were exhausted, probably since you didn’t get a good nights sleep. As you were rounding the corner your eyes fell on a dancing Joon-woo, and it took everything in you to not laugh at his dorkiness.

“Joon-woo?”

He turned around at the sound of your voice, a huge smile forming on his lips. “_______!” He practically ran towards you and gave you zero time to react as he picked you up and spun you around.

“Oh my god! What are you–”

“Guess what?” He looked up at you, completely forgetting how he was holding you.

“What?”

“You’re looking at Lawyer Jang Joon-woo.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and your mouth fell open before you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh my god! Really? Congratulations Joon-woo!”

“Thank you!” He smiled as he continued to spin you around. You were really hoping he wouldn’t be able to feel your heart beating like crazy against your chest. He was holding you so close and it almost felt like it was just you two existing in that mere moment.

Until it got ruined.

“What are you two doing?”

You both froze and turned towards the sound of the voice. Standing a couple of feet away was Lawyer Choi and she was looking at you two with confusion. You never interacted with her much, but according to Cha-young’s description of her, she is a pain in the ass. Neither you or Joon-woo dared to move, and he was still holding you up while Ms. Choi appeared to be growing impatient.

“Are you two deaf?”

“N-No,” you stuttered out while wiggling in Joon-woo’s arms. He quickly set you down as he fixed his suit, flashing her a small awkward smile. “We were just celebrating his promotion.”

“What kind of celebration was that? It looked like he just proposed to you and you said yes.”

You immediately turned red at her words, but Joon-woo was quick to step in. “We just got a little too excited.”

“Hm. Don’t do it again.”

That was the last thing she said before walking off. It felt like you could finally breathe and that’s exactly what you did as you let out the biggest exhale of your life. You leaned back against the wall and fanned your face, but Joon-woo stared at you as if you grew two heads.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never been in trouble before,” you whispered. “She’s one of the top dogs.”

“Top dogs?”

“Yes, top dogs,” you repeated. “She’s scary.”

Joon-woo chuckled and ruffled your hair. “You’ll be fine. You want to grab some dinner with me?”

You wanted to say yes so bad, but your evening was swamped with work. “I can’t. I’m working late today.”

He shot you a pout. “That’s not fair.”

“I know,” you groaned and slammed your head against the wall. You already hated the idea of working so late today, but knowing that you’re going to miss out on having dinner with Joon-woo, it makes the situation worse for you. But it still makes you wonder why he’s asking you to eat with him? Didn’t he have a crush on someone? Wouldn’t he ask her instead? You shook those thoughts away, not wanting to stress yourself over it.

All you could was say goodbye to Joon-woo and smile as he shot you an army salute before walking off. Maybe he’ll ask his crush since you declined his offer. Curse your overthinking brain because now you’re definitely left in a bad mood.

—

You don’t know how it happened but somehow Joon-woo was able to have you as his personal assistant, so you began to follow him everywhere to provide some assistance whenever he needed it. You were glad to finally have a break from your previous position, but that also means you’re spending more time with Joon-woo now. You just don’t know if that’s a bad thing or a good thing. Being with him almost every day of the week made it hard for you to get rid of your feelings, especially when he’s been acting rather close to you.

Joon-woo has been sending mixed signals and you’re not even sure if this girl he spoke about is even in the picture anymore. You did lean towards the idea of him possibly liking you, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

Your relationship with Cha-young has also been hard to manage ever since she begged you to leave Wusang and work for her law firm. She went on a whole rant how Wusang is covering up for Babel’s illegal schemes and you shouldn’t support them or get caught up in their mess. She even said you could try to convince Joon-woo to join her law firm as well — even though she was half against it. He was quick to turn down her proposal, which left you in the middle. You told her you’ll think about it and get back to her as soon as possible.

But for now, your mind was focused on assisting and following Joon-woo — along with Mr. Han and Ms. Choi.

Your first time in court was… unexpecting. First Cha-young “fainted”, then the power went out, and lastly, giant hornets were flying around the courtroom and stung the judge. His face was left so swollen he couldn’t even talk, so the trial was postponed until the following week.

“This is better than a kdrama,” you whispered to Mr. Han who sat next to you.

He looked around, trying to make sure no one would hear him as he leaned in and nodded his head. “I agree.”

But his demeanor completely changed on the ride back to Wusang.

“Gosh. In my twenty-five years as a lawyer, I’ve never experienced such chaos in court before,” he chuckled before kicking Joon-woo’s seat. “It’s my first time! Okay?”

“That hurts, boss,” Joon-woo hissed while he winced from pain.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Well, suck it up! Suck it up!” Mr. Han yelled while repeatedly kicking and punching the seat again.

“Sir aren’t you being too rough?” You tapped his arm to grab his attention.

“Too rough? I don’t think so,” he waved you off.

“On top of that, my first trial as a lawyer was a flop,” Ms. Choi stated, unamused.

And yet experiencing my first trial was hilarious. You thought.

“God those dirty bastards. Of all things, how could they think of bringing in those hornets? What should we do?” Mr. Han sarcastically laughed.

“It was so funny,” you blurted out, causing everyone — but the driver — to face you. Your heart hammered in your chest while your eyes widened, and you slowly sunk in your seat as best as you could. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You didn’t mean to… oh god,” Mr. Han flicked your forehead which made you wince. “Should we just leave you stranded here?”

“No, sorry sir.”

“Ah! It’s not like you’re of any use anyways,” he shoved your shoulder, making you bump into Ms. Choi. “Gosh this is frustrating. You think it’s funny?!”

“Sir, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

The sudden change in tone on Joon-woo’s voice caught you by surprise. It was low and if you didn’t know any better, it sounded like he was warning Mr. Han. You could see his eyes staring into the backseat from the rear view mirror, and he was glaring at his boss.

“You shut up. Gosh you’re so annoying,” he kicked Joon-woo’s seat once again but this time, he showed no reaction. He was stiff and continued to glare at Mr. Han, and that was something you will never forget.

The car eventually arrived back at Wusang and you followed Joon-woo up to his office. He was eerily quiet. Not cracking any jokes or trying to converse with you about the trial. The moment you two stepped into his office and he closed the door, he turned to face you.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked at him. “Huh?”

He walked up to you to touch the same spot where Mr. Han flicked you. It felt a little warm to the touch and you noticed him clenching his fists. Was he… was he actually mad on your behalf? You quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it away from your skin.

“Oh that, don’t worry I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

“What he said to you…” he shook his head and turned his body, causing you to flinch when he slammed his palms against the wall.

“Joon-woo… are you okay?” You walked up to him and placed your hand on his back. “He was kicking your seat as well. I know you said it hurt.”

“I don’t care what he does to me, I can tolerate it. But you? I don’t want him doing that shit to you. I don’t want him talking down on you as if you don’t mean anything.”

“Well in the eyes of Wusang, I really don’t.”

“But you mean something to me.”

His words left you speechless. Joon-woo turned to face you while his eyes held some form of emotion you couldn’t decipher. He was always care free and even during the times when he showed anger, he still seemed… normal. But the Joon-woo standing in front of you right now was cold and full of hostility — something you’ve never seen before. His hand hesitated to reach up and touch you, and he appeared to be having an internal battle with himself.

“I have to make a phone call. You want to grab something to eat after?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.” You were honestly too shocked to speak and your own stutter surprised you as well. Joon-woo shot you one of his sweet signature smiles before walking out of his office.

What the hell was that?

—

“And then, his demeanor completely changed. I’m talking like Billy showing himself as The Scream and saying his famous quote ‘we all go a little mad sometime’,” you ranted while mimicking the movie quote.

“You’re comparing Joon-woo to Billy from that Scream movie?” Cha-young gave you an incredulous look.

“Okay it’s not my best analogy but the personality change was there! He got so mad. I have never seen him act like that.”

Ever since that specific encounter with Joon-woo, you had to tell Cha-young about it. Sure you could’ve called or texted but talking about it in person is ten times better, plus you always prefer to ‘gossip’ face to face. You made sure to include every detail that happened, including the ones of your interactions after his comment. Joon-woo was stuck to your hip since then and he even asked if he could call you ‘babydoll’. The pet name caught you off guard and you did not hesitate to ask why, his simple answer was that he thought it was cute and fitting.

You nearly exploded when he said that.

Cha-young rubbed her temples as she appeared to be soothing herself. “______ I didn’t think you were this clueless.”

“Huh?”

“He likes you.”

Rewind and pause. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Mr. Nam answered from behind his computer. “Sounds like he has the hots for you.”

“You were listening to our conversation the whole time?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Against our own will,” Vincenzo groaned. “Can you talk about this some other time?”

“Why? You guys have important stuff to do?”

“We do. We’re trying to find out who the real chairman of Babel is,” Mr. Nam answered for Vincenzo but was immediately silenced the moment the Korean-Italian lawyer glared at him. “I-I mean… so Joon-woo is Scream?”

You frowned at his words and faced Cha-young. “Wait what? Is Chairman Jang not the real chairman after all?”

Before Cha-young could answer, you felt your chair being dragged away from the table, the sound of its feet scraping against the floor was hell for your ears. Vincenzo pulled you back to the entrance before walking towards Cha-young.

“Hey!” You stood up and marched over to him.

“We can’t trust her,” he spoke with seriousness. “She works for Wusang.”

“As an assistant,” you clarified and bent your head down so you could face him. “Not really an important job.”

“Then why don’t you quit and work here?”

“Uh, because I’m still debating on it.”

“She’s trying to marry her future husband,” Cha-young clarified with a roll of her eyes.

“Love like this only comes once in a lifetime,” you whined and slammed your forehead on the table. “I’m a mess.”

“I agree,” Vincenzo muttered to himself but you heard him loud and clear. You shot up and pushed your body towards him as you began to shove him into a corner, your eyes shooting daggers his way.

“What did you say?” You quirked up an eyebrow and felt victorious when he clearly seemed to be uncomfortable at your proximity. You let out a huff of victory and sat down next to Cha-young but your relaxation was short lived when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket, a smile plastering on your face when you saw Joon-woo’s name pop up.

“Hello?”

“Is it your boyfriend?” Vincenzo’s voice caught you off guard as he bent his head down towards your ear, speaking very close to the microphone. The panic settled in as you stood up and began to hit him, Mr. Nam running to stop you.

“Uh, hello?” Joon-woo sounded incredibly confused.

“Hi!”

“Who was that?”

“Oh just Vincenzo being his goofy self. You know how he always wanted to be a comedian,” you stuck your tongue out in his direction when he pointed a finger at you.

“Vincenzo? You’re with him?”

“Not by choice. I came over to gossip with Cha-young. You know, girl talk.”

“Ah,” he chuckled and cleared his throat. “Well I’m going to pick you up. We’re supposed to meet up with Chairman Jang.”

At the mention of him, you thought back to your earlier conversation with the Jipuragi group, since they believed he was not the real chairman. Thanks to Vincenzo they couldn’t go into too much detail about it — much to your disappointment since you’re naturally a very curious person.

“Alright I’ll be waiting,” you smiled and hung up the phone while letting out a sigh. You did a double take when you noticed three pairs of eyes looking at you, and your face became red in embarrassment. “Don’t say a word!”

—

“I’m so busy as it is. Why does he want me to brief him all of a sudden? Why does he need me?” Mr. Han was on another one of his rants during the drive, and he kept looking at you and Ms. Choi when he spoke. “All the Babel companies must know how things are going.”

He may be your boss but he can sure be annoying at times.

“Joon-woo you better do a proper job. Don’t you stutter.”

“Sorry? Right, okay okay.”

You wanted to laugh at his obliviousness. He’s so adorable. He looks so innocent whenever he puts on his smile and you absolutely love it. When Mr. Han started to get after him and Joon-woo seemed to find it funny, you quietly let out a small laugh before pulling out your phone.

You: stop aggravating him. i’m suffering back here

Joon-woo ♡: LOL. I feel sorry for you

“Who are you texting?” Mr. Han poked his head by your shoulder and you swiftly flipped your phone over as you turned it off.

“No one!”

“You’re texting your boyfriend aren’t you? Ah, this is going to drive me insane,” he scratched his head and pointed a finger at you. “No texting while we’re with the Chairman, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

The drive was rather quick before you all made it to Babel’s office building. You all were escorted to one of their conference rooms and you took a seat next to Ms. Choi, but you couldn’t stop staring at Chairman Jang without thinking about Vincenzo’s and Cha-young’s speculation. He’s a phony… apparently. But he didn’t look like one to you, if anything, he fits the CEO look perfectly.

You turned your attention to the front and shot Joon-woo a thumbs up, sending him all your luck for his presentation in front of the Chairman.

“Begin. I said, start,” Mr. Han whispered.

“Alright then, I will begin the briefing,” Joon-woo spoke through the microphone before stepping aside, giving you all a good view of the TV. ‘The Secret of Babel’ ascended on the screen and you choked back a laugh when you realized Joon-woo went for a Star Wars theme as the intro.

“I will now reveal the secret of the Babel Group, WOW!”

You looked towards Ms. Choi and Mr. Han who seemed super confused with the direction the briefing was going, but Mr. Han was quick to let out a laugh before turning to face Chairman Jang.

“We came up with a fun briefing,” he awkwardly laughed but was brushed off by the Chairman.

“Chairman Jang Guk-hwan, the founder of Haemun Group, now known as Babel Group, had two sons.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, giving you confirmation that the theory Vincenzo and Cha-young have could be true. Is the other brother the actual Chairman? And if so, who is it? But right now, you were more confused on where Joon-woo’s presentation is actually heading to. You thought this was going to be a quick briefing about Babel, not the Jang family. Your superiors seemed to share the same confusion as you and even the Chairman looked a bit uncomfortable.

Yet, Joon-woo continued with a smile before skipping to the next slide. “He and his wife, Hwang Suk-jin, had their eldest son. As for his second son, he was birthed by Seo Min-hui, a young secretary,” he paused for a second while walking up to the screen. “Instead of focusing on the company, he cheated.”

Your hand shot up to your mouth at his words and you quickly turned to look at everyone else. Mr. Han let out another one of his discomfort laughs before standing up. “Hey, Joon-woo! What are you saying? Joon-woo! Come back here.”

But Chairman Jang tapped the table to grab his attention, ordering him to sit down which threw you off. He’s allowing this presentation? Mr. Han did as he was told but when you looked at Joon-woo from the corner of your eye, you noticed his expression. It was the same expression he wore that one time when you were insulted in the car after the trial.

“First,” he continued on like nothing, “who is his second son? It’s none other than Chairman Jang Han-seo! What a surprise!”

He aimed a laser at him and Chairman Jang opened his arms up with an awkward smile before resorting back to his emotionless face. You were not liking this. The air felt thick and your palms were beginning to sweat.

“Now, who is the eldest son?” Joon-woo began to click through pictures on the screen. “He was always smart and active. He was always the top student.” He began to walk around while appearing to be passionate about his wording. “He didn’t graduate from Stanford Law School as a top student, but he got good grades. On top of that, God has made him perfect and charismatic.”

The way he’s talking about the eldest son… you didn’t like it. It sounded like bragging. Like he was taunting all of you.

“So who is it? Who?”

Your hands began to shake as you held them up to your face. The moment the screen switched to a ‘Who is the true king of Babel?’ and a picture of Joon-woo sitting on a throne with a crown popped up, you nearly fell out of your chair. He walked to the edge of the table and leaned his hands down against it.

“It’s me. Jang Joon-woo.”

You heard Mr. Han stutter something out but you didn’t even care. Your mind is trying to process the information that was just given to you. You really, really hoped this was just a silly prank from Joon-woo, but doing this in front of his superiors? He wouldn’t risk his career for that.

“The real owner of the Babel Group is Jang Joon-woo!” He screamed out before looking at Chairman Jang. “Han-seo, are you ready?”

Then the brother’s proceeded to start singing and chanting with Mr. Han joining them soon after.

“I fooled you all! Babel Group is actually mine!” Joon-woo chanted as he ran towards your side of the table, started to do the worm, and grab your shoulders as he shook you from side to side. Let me go, is what you wanted to say but you didn’t seem to have a voice right now. Mr. Han was the first to apologize as he bowed down to Joon-woo.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me for my transgressions.” He looked petrified.

“It’s okay. I had fun,” Joon-woo waved him off with a smile.

So was your friendship with him just pretend as well? Something to add to his Joon-woo persona? You remember Cha-young and Mr. Nam telling you that it appeared Joon-woo likes you, but after this situation, you started to wonder if his feelings are even real. Was everything a fucking lie? He wasn’t even looking at you yet, which is giving you the opportunity to shoot a murderous glare towards his direction. How dare he play with your fucking heart like that.

“Sit down,” he gestured for all of you to take a seat, but you remained standing up, which caused everyone to look in your direction. “______?”

You clenched your jaw but refused to move. The sound of someone kicking the table made you flinch, and your eyes landed on an irritated Mr. Han. “Hey, you! Are you deaf? Gosh you never–”

The sound of a hand slamming against the table made everyone flinch, and it quickly shut Mr. Han up. “Mr. Han,” Joon-woo spoke through gritted teeth. “Is that any way to speak to a lady?”

“S-Speak to a lady? Uh, no no no you’re r-right, my apologies ______,” he stuttered out with fear.

“Sit,” Joon-woo smiled up at you.

“Yes, sir,” your voice was dripping with venom as you slowly sat down. You practically tuned out the whole conversation, not paying attention to what they were discussing. Nothing that they spoke about was of any importance to you, and frankly, you could care less about your career at Wusang now. Joon-woo was a two faced liar who played everyone, including you. He made you feel special and you thought everything he did for you was genuine.

The meeting was rather short and it ended quickly before everyone began to get out of their chairs. You didn’t wait for a response as you left the room, that suffocating feeling completely gone now since it felt like you could finally breathe. You wanted out, especially when the guy you like turns out to possibly be a murderous CEO. Come to think of it, Joon-woo is Billy from the Scream since he just revealed himself to all of you.

Yeah, things were definitely not going your way.

#SoundCloud #vincenzo kdrama #reader x jang hanseok #jang hanseok #jang hanseok fic #jang hanseok x reader #reader x jang joon woo #jang jun woo #jang hanseok oneshot #vincenzo #ok taecyeon vincenzo #jang joonwoo

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doxypsychlean · 2 years

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Hello, I loveddd your recent Aegon-post. I would like to share an Aegon x Reader idea that I would love to hear your take on. My pitch: Noblewoman is engaged to Aemond and very pleased. He is handsome, gentle with her, very strong, skilled, well-read and intelligent. Yet she can not seem to be able to resist his brother Aegon, whose advances appalls her almost as much as he intrigues her.

Irresistible

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: Explicit language, NSFW themes(only hinted at)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and tickle you with an axe!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Why, thank you, kind stranger! Glad to hear you liked it. And as I usually do, I'd like to apologize for taking my sweet time with posting the results. Cheers!

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The brothers were complete opposites, she'd come to realize. Aemond, her betrothed, was rough, cold and distant to the rest of the world, but soft, warm and sweet to her. He always had a kind word for her. The prince was so careful whenever she was around, as if not to spook her away.

The two spent most of their time in the Red Keep's library, reading to eachother. Stealing longing glances. Averting their eyes as one caught the other.

When they weren't in the library, the lady was watching him train with Ser Criston. Gods, he was strong... Through most of his training sessions, the lady could be seen standing off to the side, almost drooling at the sight of Aemond Targaryen swinging at his opponent. And who could blame her? The young man was ridiculously attractive. That patch made it even harder for her to keep her hands off...

Aemond rarely ever touched her. And when he did, it was for a second or two and always sickeningly innocent. Not because he didn't want to, no. Not even because it was deemed inappropriate. But because he wanted her to voice her needs before he acted. Aemond wanted to hear her give herself to him completely.

The older one, on the other hand...Prince Aegon was a menace. He sure lived up to all the stories she'd heard about him. He cared little that the lady was soon to be his sister-in-law. He cared even less about hiding his lust. His desire.

His insatiable hunger scared her. But there was more to what she felt. She knew it deep down, even if she tried to deny it. It excited her. The shiver that ran down her spine when the prince took her hand in his and kissed it the first time they met said more than enough. The woman could tell all the lies she wanted, Aegon could see right through all of them. Aemond could too.

She knew it wasn't right. She was to be married to Aemond soon, but the short-haired man was just as delicious looking as his younger brother. It was pure torture.

Unlike him, Aegon wasn't afraid to touch her. It amused him, the way she'd blush as his hands would find their way around her waist, all under the pretext of having to pass through right where she stood. Her reaction to his flirtatious little comments was even better. Lips parted slightly, eyes open wide, chest heaving, hands shaking. It was the same thing every single time.

"You know, brother... We've known each other for quite some time now, wouldn't you agree?" Aegon joked one night, after she'd left the two and headed for her chambers.

Aemond only hummed in response, glazed expression on his face. He couldn't say why, but he'd felt inclined to accept his brother's offer to join him for a drink after the feast. His patch now laid discarded on the small table between the two as they poured themselves glass after glass.

"As brothers, we've had to learn how to share from a pretty young age..." The older one trailed, his eyes meeting with those of his brother- the real one, as well as the sapphire. The light of the fire they sat close to was bouncing off of the gemstone in all directions.

"Careful now, brother. She's not a toy. My woman doesn't exist for you to play with whenever you're bored of your whores."

"She's not yours yet, is she? And you're mistaken, brother... I do not wish for you to give her to me. As I said, we've learned how to share...right?"

Aemond hummed once more, his cocky smirk finding way back to his face. He was no longer looking at Aegon, but instead over his head. Towards the now open door.

"I am not the one you should be asking for permission, Aegon."

"Then I should go and ask her then? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No need. Just turn around and speak the words."

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #hotd #game of thrones #accepting requests #requests open #hotd one shot #oneshot

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tom-whore-dleston · 11 months

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(moodboard or fic or whatever you’re feeling up to bby)

i crave seeing this man be put in situations you wouldn’t automatically think to put him in, so give me frat boy!adam warlock who only joined because his parents made him, ya know legacy and all that + the philosophy student who is the opposite of someone you’d ever see at a frat but gets roped into helping him pass a class!

Creations: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)

join the celebration!

hjasfghjkdhga now hold on bc fratboy!Adam sounds so hot I'd drop the last bit of my morals for 24 hours with him 😩 I have a million headcanons running thru my mind rn so we'll start off with some light appetizers 😜 sorry this took a million years to write and that its so frickin long 😭

First and foremost, Adam wears crop tops and short shorts unironically and he fuckin ROCKS them! All the other frat boys don't look as good as him

He also wears gold chains bc why tf not

His parents met in the partnering fraternity and sorority that did charities and events. They then got married and had Adam straight out of college. Since the birth of Adam, his parents had it set in stone that he would work hard to attend the same university and join the same fraternity as his father.

As an underclassman, Adam genuinely enjoyed the frat life. His parents were proud of him. He was dating Gamora, the most popular girl in the sorority and of course another legacy. He was basically set to become president of the fraternity by his senior year.

At the beginning of his junior year, his whole world flipped upside down. His father died suddenly, and Ayesha was having a hard time grieving. On top of that, Gamora left Adam for Peter Quill, current president and Adam's arch nemesis.

All this caused Adam's straight A's turn to straight D's. With Quill as president, he threatened to kick Adam out the fraternity if he didn't bring his grades up.

And this is where you come in.

You are the top student in yours and Adam's philosophy class. It kinda helps that you are a philosophy major and always leading discussions during lectures. All your classmates were annoyed of you talking the professor's ears off, except for Adam. Without anyone's knowledge, he would jot down your talking points in case they would be useful in the future.

After the second exam of the semester, he finally approaches you after class, asking you to tutor him. Without hesitation, you agree, mainly because you have always seen him in your classes and found him attractive.

During your study sessions, you both got to know one another, realizing you have more in common with each other than Adam did with Gamora. He eventually confesses to you that he didn't care all that much about the frat life and he willingly agreed to rush because of his parents. You reveal to him that your parents practically disowned you after going to a college away from home and majoring in anything outside of law or medicine. You and Adam almost shared a kiss that night. That was until your best friend and Gamora's step sister, Nebula, came home from work.

Adam invites you to one of his frat parties where you're stuck to his hip the whole time. A drunk Quill encounters Adam, constantly harassing you throughout the night. Fed up with Quill's antics, Adam and you finally leave.

That was until Quill said, "Once you get tired of Adam's dumbass, you know where to find me. It won't be the first time a girl realized I'm ten times the man Adam Warlock will ever be."

Adam was ready to beat his ass, but you pushed him to the side, strutting towards Quill and back-handed slapped him across the face, sending him to the floor. You stoop down to Quill's level, muttering through gritted teeth, "You're right. Adam will never be you because he isn't some scumbag like you." Then, you took someone's cup of beer and poured it all over Quill before leaving with Adam.

As Adam was dropping you off at your apartment, he pulled you into a heated kiss and thanked you for standing up for him. When you shut the door behind you, you did a happy dance which Nebula caught you in the middle of. This, then led to you both staying up the rest of the night to spill the details of the party until you and Adam kissed.

Next week in class, Adam surprised you with your usual coffee order from the cafe on campus. On the coffee cup, there was a message that wrote:

"Dinner and movie at 7? I could use a study break :)"

Your face was warm from smiling so hard. You couldn't wait to finally go on a real date with Adam and neither could he.

Adam showed up to your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. You had to do a double take because it was the first time you haven't seen Adam wearing shorts and a crop top. He wore a buttoned shirt with jeans and his hair was neatly combed back.

"What happened? Did you run out of shirts that show off your abs?" You joked, leading to Adam picking you up and spinning you in the air before kissing you sweetly.

"Gotta look nice for my girl, you know."

You raise an eyebrow, taking the bouquet from him. "Your girl?" You curled your lips inward to hide the goofy smile on your face.

"Is it okay if I call you that?"

"Only if it's okay for me to call you my boy."

The date proceeds and it consists of a lot of hand holding, kissing, and you laying your head on Adam's shoulder. At the end of the date, it was obvious neither of you wanted it to end. While making out in his car, Adam reached for the bottom of your shirt, trying to pull it over your head until you stopped him.

Adam's face was full of concern. "I'm sorry, I should have asked if you were okay with this. I don't want you to think-"

You interrupted him by pressing your lips to his. "Don't worry, Adam. You didn't do anything wrong." You looked over at the window of your apartment, realizing no light came from inside. "Do you want to come inside? Nebula is most likely out for the rest of the night."

With that, Adam followed you into your apartment. You two barely made it into the bedroom before your hands and lips were all over one another. You fucked on the sofa before moving to the bedroom to cuddle.

As you were dozing off, Adam whispered, "I think I'm gonna quit the frat."

Now you were wide awake. "Why? I thought you loved it."

"For a while I did. I felt like I had to care for my parents. Now that we are halfway through junior year, none of that matters anymore." Adam paused to move your hair out of your face. "Besides, I'm thinking about applying to work at the cafe. My girl deserves all the free coffee I can make her for the rest of our college years."

"You are the sweetest." You kissed Adam on his forehead. "Whatever you want to do, I'll support you along the way."

#1.2k celebration🌱#creations 🪴#inklore #jordan loves laur #inklaur #college au #adam warlock #will poulter #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #adam warlock headcanons #adam warlock fic #adam warlock imagine

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katnissmellarkkk · 6 months

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Okay! So I literally haven’t done one of these in like almost a year but here’s a bookcomb of Katniss being on the receiving end of affection! I’m gonna have to do one for each book separately because, to my surprise, she was actually given love plenty of times. I also only included when she was on the receiving end, not the giving end, of affection. So not when she consoled Prim or tucked Peeta into the sleeping bag. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy.

My sister and my mother come first. I reach out to Prim and she climbs on my lap, her arms around my neck, head on my shoulder, just like she did when she was a toddler. My mother sits beside me and wraps her arms around us. For a few minutes, we say nothing.

And then the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we’re all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I’m saying is “I love you. I love you both.”

“Promise you’ll wear it into the arena, Katniss?” she asks. “Promise?”

“Yes,” I say. Cookies. A pin. I’m getting all kinds of gifts today. Madge gives me one more. A kiss on the cheek. Then she’s gone and I’m left thinking that maybe Madge really has been my friend all along.

Finally, Gale is here and maybe there is nothing romantic between us, but when he opens his arms I don’t hesitate to go into them. His body is familiar to me — the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the sound of his heart beating I know from quiet moments on a hunt — but this is the first time I really feel it, lean and hard-muscled against my own.

Cinna climbs up before us and ignites our headdresses. He lets out a sigh of relief. “It works.” Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. “Remember, heads high. Smiles. They’re going to love you!”

It’s not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta’s hand. That’s how tightly I’ve been holding it. I look down at our linked fingers as I loosen my grasp, but he regains his grip on me. “No, don’t let go of me,” he says.

I dig my fingernails into my palms as my face comes up, expecting the worst. Then they’re flashing the number eleven on the screen.

Eleven!

Effie Trinket lets out a squeal, and everybody is slapping me on the back and cheering and congratulating me. But it doesn’t seem real.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says Cinna and gives me a hug. “Oh, wait until you see your interview dress.”

But instead of fleeing the room, the girl closes the door behind her and goes to the bathroom. She comes back with a damp cloth and wipes my face gently then cleans the blood from a broken plate off my hands. Why is she doing this? Why am I letting her?

“I should have tried to save you,” I whisper.

When all the garbage has been dropped down a disposal and the food cleaned away, she turns down my bed. I crawl in between the sheets like a five-year-old and let her tuck me in. Then she goes.

Effie takes both of us by the hand and, with actual tears in her eyes, wishes us well. Thanks us for being the best tributes it has ever been her privilege to sponsor. And then, because it’s Effie and she’s apparently required by law to say something awful, she adds “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!”

Then she kisses us each on the cheek and hurries out, overcome with either the emotional parting or the possible improvement of her fortunes.

“Do you want to talk, Katniss?” Cinna asks.

I shake my head but after a moment hold out my hand to him. Cinna encloses it in both of his. And this is how we sit until a pleasant female voice announces it’s time to prepare for launch.

Still clenching one of Cinna’s hands, I walk over and stand on the circular metal plate. “Remember what Haymitch said. Run, find water. The rest will follow,” he says. I nod. “And remember this. I’m not allowed to bet, but if I could, my money would be on you.”

“Truly?” I whisper.

“Truly,” says Cinna. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Good luck, girl on fire.”

Rue has decided to trust me wholeheartedly. I know this because as soon as the anthem finishes she snuggles up against me and falls asleep.

But I’m too exhausted to begin any detailed plan tonight. My wounds recovering, my mind still a bit foggy from the venom, and the warmth of Rue at my side, her head cradled on my shoulder, have given me a sense of security. I realize, for the first time, how very lonely I’ve been in the arena. How comforting the presence of another human being can be.

“This is an enormous improvement over the mud,” he says. “Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag . . . and you.”

Oh, right, the whole romance thing. I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips.

Peeta sits beside me, leaning against the wall, his bad leg stretched out before him, his eyes trained on the world outside. “Go to sleep,” he says softly. His hand brushes the loose strands of my hair off my forehead. Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don’t want him to stop and he doesn’t. He’s still stroking my hair when I fall asleep.

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her.

“No, it’s good. You need to eat. I’ll go hunting soon,” I say.

“Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.”

I don’t really seem to have much choice. Peeta feeds me bites of groosling and raisins and makes me drink plenty of water. He rubs some warmth back into my feet and wraps them in his jacket before tucking the sleeping bag back up around my chin.

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a small child.

“You will. I promise,” he says, and bends over to give me a kiss.

“Well, he probably used up a lot of resources helping me knock you out,” I say mischievously.

“Yeah, about that,” says Peeta, entwining his fingers in mine. “Don’t try something like that again.”

“That’s exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of,” I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he’s probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it.

“Then I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he says, and moves in to me.

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.

But I don’t get it. Well, I do get a second kiss, but it’s just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peeta’s been distracted. “I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it’s bedtime anyway,” he says.

In stark contrast to two nights ago, when I felt Peeta was a million miles away, I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe.

I’d be the first to admit we’re not exactly riveting today. Starving, weak from injuries, trying not to reopen wounds. We’re sitting huddled together wrapped in the sleeping bag, yes, but mostly to keep warm. The most exciting thing either of us does is nap.

“You have a . . . remarkable memory,” I say haltingly.

“I remember everything about you,” says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.”

“I am now.”

“Scoot over, I’m freezing.”

I make room for him in the sleeping bag. We lean back against the cave wall, my head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me.

I scoot over and shake Peeta’s shoulder. His eyes open sleepily and when they focus on me, he pulls me down for a long kiss.

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.”

He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him.

“Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss.

“I whistled. Why didn’t you whistle back?” I snap at him.

“I didn’t hear. The water’s too loud, I guess,” he says. He crosses and puts his hands on my shoulders. That’s when I feel that I’m trembling.

“I thought Cato killed you!” I almost shout.

“No, I’m fine.” Peeta wraps his arms around me, but I don’t respond. “Katniss?”

I push away, trying to sort out my feelings. “If two people agree on a signal, they stay in range. Because if one of them doesn’t answer, they’re in trouble, all right?”

Twenty-one tributes are dead, but I still have yet to kill Cato. And really, wasn’t he always the one to kill? Now it seems the other tributes were just minor obstacles, distractions, keeping us from the real battle of the Games. Cato and me.

But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me.

[…]

We stand there a while, locked in an embrace, feeling each other, the sunlight, the rustle of the leaves at our feet. Then without a word, we break apart and head for the lake.

We hear him hit, the air leaving his body on impact, and then the mutts attack him. Peeta and I hold on to each other, waiting for the cannon, waiting for the competition to finish, waiting to be released.

“Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. It’s a bit warmer, sharing our body heat inside my double layer of jackets, but the night is young. The temperature will continue to drop. Even now I can feel the Cornucopia, which burned so when I first climbed it, slowly turning to ice.

“Cato may win this thing yet,” I whisper to Peeta.

“Don’t you believe it,” he says, pulling up my hood, but he’s shaking harder than I am.

“Why don’t they just kill him?” I ask Peeta.

“You know why,” he says, and pulls me closer to him.

He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets me go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. “On the count of three?”

Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says.

Peeta pulls me to the lake where we both flush our mouths with water and then collapse into each other’s arms.

I turn and see them all waiting in a big chamber at the end of the hall — Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna. My feet take off without hesitation. Maybe a victor should show more restraint, more superiority, especially when she knows this will be on tape, but I don’t care.

I run for them and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic. Effie’s somewhat teary and keeps patting my hair and talking about how she told everyone we were pearls. Cinna just hugs me tight and doesn’t say anything.

It’s a relief to be alone with Cinna, to feel his protective arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the cameras, down a few passages and to an elevator that leads to the lobby of the Training Center.

When the elevator doors open, Venia, Flavius, and Octavia engulf me, talking so quickly and ecstatically I can’t make out their words. The sentiment is clear though. They are truly thrilled to see me and I’m happy to see them, too, although not like I was to see Cinna.

Haymitch’s eyes shift around my musty holding space, and he seems to make a decision. “But nothing. How about a hug for luck?”

Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all, we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. Only, when I put my arms around his neck, I find myself trapped in his embrace.

“Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you weren’t responsible for your actions.” Haymitch pulls back and adjusts my hairband. “Got it, sweetheart?” He could be talking about anything now.

“But you think I’m not?” I say, taking the opportunity to straighten a bright red bow tie Cinna must have wrestled him into.

“Since when does it matter what I think?” says Haymitch. “Better take our places.” He leads me to the metal circle. “This is your night, sweetheart. Enjoy it.” He kisses me on the forehead and disappears into the gloom.

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms. He staggers back, almost losing his balance, and that’s when I realize the slim, metal contraption in his hand is some kind of cane. He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in?

I sit so close to Peeta that I’m practically on his lap, but one look from Haymitch tells me it isn’t enough. Kicking off my sandals, I tuck my feet to the side and lean my head against Peeta’s shoulder. His arm goes around me automatically, and I feel like I’m back in the cave, curled up against him, trying to keep warm.

Caesar Flickerman gives me a warm hug when I come in. “Congratulations, Katniss. How are you faring?”

“Fine. Nervous about the interview,” I say.

“Don’t be. We’re going to have a fabulous time,” he says, giving my cheek a reassuring pat.

We sit somewhat formally on the love seat, but Caesar says, “Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want. It looked very sweet.” So I tuck my feet up and Peeta pulls me in close to him.

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.

“Yes, it’s your fault I’m alive,” says Peeta.

“He’s right,” says Caesar. “He’d have bled to death for sure without it.”

I guess this is true, but I can’t help feeling upset about it to the extent that I’m afraid I might cry and then I remember everyone in the country is watching me so I just bury my face in Peeta’s shirt. It takes them a couple of minutes to coax me back out because it’s better in the shirt, where no one can see me, and when I do come out, Caesar backs off questioning me so I can recover.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.

I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.

#thg #hunger games #bookcomb ♥️🔎#Katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #primrose everdeen #Cinna #effie trinket

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koogl001 · 2 years

Text

Wrong Target

Requested by: ❤️ @oyasumimosura ❤️ May I please request some Stolas x wife! Reader? An Au where Stolas got into a healthy relationship with someone who loves him for who he is. Perhaps the reader rescued Stolas when they were little since she’s more athletic and catches him before he could hit the ground, they both didn’t know that they will soon be married. While (y/n)’s sister which is Stella doesn’t like Stolas that much and even abuses him whenever she’s away. That one time when they were adults when she caught Stella about to slap Stolas she was very angry with Stella that she banned her from coming into her home. In the end, Stella did hire Striker who ended up killing (y/n) while she was protecting Octavia. Like I need some angst where Stolas came home and looked so happy but to find the house was messy. He finds Octavia crying and beside her was (y/n)’s lifeless body.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

“Oh dear, you should have seen him. Stolas of the Ars Goetia, the Great Prince of Hell, stuck in a tree not knowing how to get down. He was gripping it as if it was his life line. I thought at the time that he was the biggest drama queen I have ever seen, and look at him now, I was so right!”

Octavia heartily laughed with me as I draped the covers over her and with a quick kiss on the forehead, I bid her sweet dreams. I joined Stolas at the balcony with a blanket and tea to relax.

“So my dear, what were you telling our little owlet that made your laughter carry all the way here?”

We snuggled under the blanket, enjoying the peacefulness of each other's company. Being a parent was harder than you could have imagined, but the best thing that ever happened in your life. Your side of the family was not ideal, with an overly dramatic and cold older brother and an aggressive and jealous twin sister.

“I was just telling our little princess how we first met, love.”

I caressed my husband's cheek, closely inspecting it and finding a red handprint on it.

“Dear Lucifer, whatever happened to you?”

“Nothing my Calytrix, you needn't worry about me.”

His eyes avoided mine and from the tone of his voice, I could tell he was not sincere with me. Yet pushing him would make him even more uncomfortable, which you didn’t want. With worry still evident in your eyes, you rested your head on his shoulder, slowly falling into dream land.

“Enough!”

You shouted, catching Stella’s hand as it was about to connect with the already reddened cheek of your husband. You always knew your sister was a confrontational person, but to resort to violence, much less trying to hurt her own brother-in-law was outrageous. You certainly didn’t expect to see the two fighting when you returned from your play-date with Octavia and Charlie.

“I will not tolerate violence in this household! Leave, and never come back!”

I sent Stella a deadly glare as she smashed the door behind her strongly enough it almost came out of its hinges. Oh, how blind you were. Suddenly all those marks and occasional bruises Stolas sported made so much sense.

“Come love, I need to tend to your wounds.”

Gently grabbing his hand, I led Stolas to our bedroom. As I wept, begging for forgiveness for being so naïve and blind to the situation, we spent the rest of the day in each other's embrace.

“I don’t care who you have to go thru, make it happen!”

Stella shouted at the phone. Her sister dared to go against her, which was a grave mistake. She would not have her killed, no. She would have her suffer seeing the deaths of all those she held close, starting with her husband and her own child. A fate worse than death.

“Understood.”

“Starfire, Starflower, wherever are you hiding?”

Stolas exclaimed, walking into his home. In order to have a relaxing afternoon with his family after what happened, he personaly went and booked the Loo Loo Land for a whole day only for his two darlings. They could enjoy the rides without having to wait in lines, win prizes, watch a private clown show and eat as many sweets as they would like.

“Love?”

He continued walking towards Octavia’s room, hearing slight noises emerging from within. As he carefully opened the door, his heart stopped. His little princess was crying hunched over a body. Your body.

“(Y/N)!”

Your cold corpse sprawled on the floor, a massive wound right through the heart, blood everywhere. This is wrong. This can’t be. This is not REAL! Stolas fell on his knees next to his daughter, screaming with all his power.

“(Y/N)…"

He took Octavia into his arms, taking her out of the room.

“I failed to kill the right target. It won’t happen again.”

A pale imp reported to his employer without a care in the world.

“It better not...”

#helluva boss #stolas #reader insert #fanfiction #oneshot #fanfic #reader #stolas goetia #octavia #stella goetia #striker #viziepop #stolas x reader #wife reader #family au #minnie #moxxie #luna #loo loo land

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curlysgirl0202 · 9 months

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TITLE:

JOHNNY RINGO: FORBIDDEN LOVE ON THE WILD FRONTIER

Last summer, I received a request to write a story about Johnny Ringo falling in love with the Earp's younger sister. It's taking longer than predicted due to research.

**When the Earp's younger sister comes to Tombstone, Ringo quickly feels drawn to her large, liquid eyes and fiery spirit. Upon discovering an odd obsession Wyatt has with reader allows for a swashbuckling tale of adventure, romance, love and a BIG surprise for Curly Bill. Follow Johnny Ringo and the reader through their forbidden love all while fighting the Earps' disapproval as the brothers are hellbent for leather to keep the two apart. ***

CHAPTER ONE

RIVALS OF THE HEART

It is no secret that there is major tension between the two most powerful factions in Tombstone; The Earps and The Cowboys. Wyatt Earp and his brothers Virgil and Morgan all served as peace officers, deputies and even served as sheriffs and marshals. Although they were good at keeping the peace which usually meant a fair amount of violence, they ultimately wanted to leave the law behind them and move to Tombstone, Queen of the Boomtowns with more to do than in Dodge or Silver City and seemed to attract all sorts. Miners came to Tombstone for the silver, farmers came to buy a piece of land or try their luck at the gambling houses, young men came to stake their claims, families came for the new schools which were on the other side of Allen and Freemont Street. And of course cowboys came for a hog killin' good time. Traditional jackeroos wandered through Tombstone after a cattle drive to get drunk, visit the dance halls and houses of fallen angels and raise hell. The Cowboys who were led by Johnny Ringo and Curly Bill Brocious were rustlers and their reasons for coming were to get rich gambling. Ringo had a poker face so stone cold, it almost seemed like a dead stare while he was sitting at the table. Curly usually chuckled every now and then while playing cards, but also had a staunch poker face. They baited the Earps by refusing to give up their guns and although Wyatt and his brothers were seasoned law men and were hoping to give it all up and live a peaceful life. But the tensions in Tombstone gave them little choice.

So in Tombstone everyone is seeking their fortunes while trying to avoid the group of rough and rowdy cowboys who rode through town with their pistols blazing showing off how they weren't afraid of the law. Ringo and Curly Bill were known as the Kings of the Cowboys and rode with the Clanton's and McClaury's, Indian Charlie, Pony Diehl, Billy Clairborne and Frank Stillwell.

It was on one such evening when the Cowboys were at the Oriental, that they all notice you standing near Wyatt Earp and his brother Morgan. While you are talking, the two men are chuckling and seem to be enjoying your company. Since you are elegantly dressed, they can see you are not a lady of the line. Curly Bill looks over at Ringo who is staring intently at you, his mouth falling open. Curly Bill chuckles and says, "Hey Juanito! You see what I see? Who's that beauty talking to the Earps?" Ringo is so entranced with you, he hardly hears Curly. And when Ringo is thinking about anything important it can be hard to pull him out of it. Curly smiles and slaps Ringo on the back and Ringo turns as if just woken up.

"Who is that?" Curly asks, standing with his arms folded.

"I don't know," Ringo answers in a low voice. He would like to go to where you are, but not when the Earps are around. When Wyatt notices Ringo's stare, he locks eyes with the cowboy and shows an icy look that says, "stay away from her." Ringo shakes his head and sits back down and pours more whiskey. If he sees you alone, he is going to talk to you...

Billy Breckenridge walked through the batwings and headed over to where the Cowboys were enjoying their moonshine while talking to some of the rameras that worked there.

"Hey Billy!" Curly Bill howled. "Who is that lovely lady talking to Wyatt?" Breckenridge lowers his head and smiles.

"Her name is Y/N and she's the younger sister of the Earp brothers."

"Well," Curly began. "She sure don't look like any of them. Why don't you introduce us?"

Breckenridge smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "I don't think I can. Wyatt and Virgil don't want her near..."

"Who?" Curly asked. "Us? The Cowboys? He ain't got no right to do nothing like that. He may be her brother, but hell that don't make her his damn property. She oughta be able to decide herself if she wants to talk with us or not. They ain't the type to follow her around like damn guard dogs, are they?"

Breckenridge shook his head. "Well, if she stays and they leave, I'll introduce you and Ringo. But no one else."

"Well that's only fair!" Curly shouted, while slapping the deputy on the back. A few moments later, the Earps left and she was alone. Breckenridge immediately got up, he enjoyed helping the Cowboys and Curly was always protective of him. Billy returned with Y/N. You look more beautiful up close than far away. Ringo's face grows red and flushed and he suddenly grows anxious. And it is not entirely because of your subtle beauty, but that something that lovely could come from the same gene pool as her stone cold brothers. Your smile is a light that beams and causes Ringo to relax a bit. He can't stop looking at you and it seems to be amusing to old Curly.

"Curly Bill, Ringo, this is Y/N. She's here visiting her brothers. Your smile lights up the dark room and Ringo suddenly stands up, takes his hat off and pulls the chair out for you.

"Thank you. What is your name?" Ringo grows flushed again, but manages to answer, "John Ringo. Most people call me Johnny."

"Well, it is nice to meet you, John Ringo. Johnny!" At this, he can't help but smile and he can't believe you are related to the Earps who always seemed to stare with icy eyes that pierce right through a man. Ringo wonders for a moment if perhaps you are not blood related.

"And I'm Curly Bill Brocious!" Curly declared. "I run the cowboys along with Johnny here! What's a lovely lady like yourself doing here?"

Ringo remembered Billy said you were visiting and he wondered if that meant he had limited time to get to get to know you. And if he did get to know you, would be have to say good bye to you? He was already feeling a strong sense of disappointment.

"I may end up staying." You answer.

"It's getting a little warm in here, Juanito," Curly says. "Maybe you two could go outside and get some fresh air." Curly winks at Ringo, who stands up before you do, takes his hat off again and escorts you outside. He began to think of the irony that he could probably do a better job of protecting you than all your brothers combined! The thought of any of them seeing you with him causes him to grow anxious, but continues towards the exit. Once the two of you are outside, you notice the night air that is perfumed with the Palo Verde trees and wildflowers along with ladies body sprays, horses and men wearing their range duds. Your eyes seem to sparkle even at night and Johnny is taken aback about how lovely you look in the light. He stands there with his hat in his hands, trying to think of something to say or at least ask you. He finally manages, "when did you arrive here?"

"Just two days ago. I came from California."

"Oh really?" Johnny begins. "I thought the Earps came from Kansas."

"We do, Well...I decided to go to California with my family. I ended up leaving because I just wanted a sense of adventure. I joined a theater group and did some singing and dancing in a few shows. Thankfully, Wyatt was the town marshal in Bixby where one of our shows were running for several weeks."

Just the mere mention of Wyatt's name was enough to cause Ringo's heart to sink because for a moment he forgot who you are related to.

"Will you be performing here at the ?" Johnny asks.

"Well, maybe. I know Wyatt really doesn't want me to!"

"Your brother has quite a bit to say about what you do." Ringo said, hoping it doesn't offend you. You smile up at him. "I guess he just worries because he's my older brother." The two of you start walking down Allen street. Ringo fears word will get back to Wyatt that he was seen with his sister. He doesn't put a hand on you although he would love to.

"Does he tell you who can court you?" Ringo asks almost immediately regretting it because it sounds so much like a leading question.

You smile up at him. "Well..." At that moment, you both hear gunfire and Ringo shields you from any danger. He pulls his pistol and looks around. Ike Clanton is stumbling out of the Silver Slipper saloon, firing his gun into the ground in a drunken stupor. Ringo replaces his gun in the holster. "You alright?" He asks. He sees the fear in your eyes and it takes everything in him to not take you in his arms and hold you tight. He desperately wants to tell you that you will always be safe with him and that would never let anyone hurt you. Although he just met you, he can't help but be so attracted to you. It's not just your beauty, it's your sweet smile that has just enough sweetness and innocence with a hint of a seasoned woman. And Ringo just met you!

"Things can get wild around here fast. Did your brother mention that?" Ringo asks.

You take a deep breath before answering.

"He did say certain parts of the west were wild. I guess there's a reason it's called the wild west!" You brush some dust off your dress. Ringo hates that you had to witness such a scene. "I guess I can either leave or get used to it." You look at Ringo and wink and he is taken aback by your bravery. You came to Tombstone to not only see your brothers, but because you clearly have a strong sense of adventure and you're a brave woman who isn't afraid to venture out in your own. It is this that Johnny Ringo clings to. If you're a woman who can make up her own mind, you wouldn't need the approval of your brothers.

It wasn't that Ringo and Curly Bill hated the Earps. They never really had any issues at all until the Earps started wearing badges and locking up Cowboys for interfering with their business ventures. With me like Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo out of the way, the Earps could prosper in Tombstone which is what they really wanted. Wyatt hung up his badge and gun for a reason, but you know it's just a matter of time before your brothers put those badges back on because it is the one thing they're good at. And the Cowboys certainly gave the Earp crew plenty of reasons to swear themselves into law enforcement once again.

It was more than that for Ringo. It was Wyatt and his brothers and their damn self assurance; that they were so certain they would win over the Cowboys. They didn't seem to play on an equal field either; the Earp brothers put badges on and locked up every cowboy, cowpoke and jackeroo that came through Tombstone and had a little too much. Wyatt and his brothers had an aire of self righteousness although they engaged in the same activities as the Cowboys.

"Thank you for walking me home, Johnny!"

Ringo removes his hat out of habit and waits to put it back on once you're safe inside. He puts his hat back on and heads back to town. He can hear Curly Bill's loud guffawing before he enters the Dead End saloon which was located in the older side of Allen Street.

"Come join us, Juanito!" Curly is sitting with two chippies, one on each side of him. Curly got lucky playing faro and was spending his winnings on two of his favorite things: whiskey and women. Ringo knew that Curly Bill was as lonely as any other rustler, but Curly seemed to be able to laugh through his adversities whereas Ringo held a space of guilt and shame.

"Johnny here likes to read Shakespeare!" Curly says as he puts more money on the table and when he does, both girls start laughing hysterically and vying for the big rustler's attention. Johnny admired how Curly Bill could smile through his pain. Ringo knew that in spite of all of Curly Bill's stories and practical jokes that he was as lonely as Ringo was. But finding love in the old west was tougher than finding gold in a mule's ass.

Curly Bill looked over at the redhead that was sitting at his left. "What do think, Juanito?"

Ringo's head was still spinning from his time with you and he didn't feel like spending the night with a lady of the line. He shook his head and Curly knew not to push the issue. Ringo downed a few shots before heading back to the cowboy camp. He didn't have enough money to stay in town and just wanted to get some sleep.

Johnny tried to fall asleep and although he was exhausted, he kept tossing fruitlessly in his tent thinking about you. If only you weren't related to those damn self righteous Earps! To think he would have to ask Wyatt Earp for permission to see you...Or worse to have that damn Doc Holiday snickering in the background because Johnny Ringo is a lowly cowboy who never amounted to anything in his life except for a few semesters of medical school was going to court the younger sister of the Earp brothers. Wyatt Earp would be able to look down on Johnny Ringo with the same kind of scorn that is deemed decent by righteous men; men of the law and men of some substance would scowl and even laugh when they see you with Johnny Ringo. And when you defend your cowboy, they just laugh and when their laughing fit is over, they remind you who Johnny Ringo is....

Oh God... don't let that happen. Ringo thinks. The thought of you losing your family because of him was more than he could bear. He couldn't stand the thought of you having to move away from your support so you could spend the rest of your life with a worthless cowboy. It was those thoughts that kept Ringo up all night.

Days go by and you and Ringo see each other in town regularly, enjoying a pastry or ice cream, strolling through town or taking a walk and enjoying the delightful breeze and aroma of wildflowers that burst through the ground. You enjoy each other although he as not laid a finger on you. Yet. Ringo hasn't been able to shake the vision of your face from his mind. He recalls your smile and your liquid eyes that are full of wonder and a lust for adventure. The other cowboys notice Ringo's change in his mood and laugh about how Wyatt Earp would have an outlaw for an in-law. However for Johnny, it is no laughing matter; he can't stop thinking about you and he's uncertain of how he'll be able to see you again and what will happen if word gets out that Wyatt Earp's younger sister is seeing a famous gunslinger.

CHAPTER TWO:

LOVE AGAINST THE LAW

The next morning, Ringo rose early. He could hear Curly Bill snoring and muttering in his sleep. He mounted his horse and went to town for a bath, a shave and to have his clothes laundered. When he emerged from the barber with a fresh shave, he sees you walking. Ringo tips the barber and waits for you to see him. When you do, you greet him with the smile he has come to adore.

"Well hello, Johnny!" You say. Ringo can feel his neck and face grow hot and flushed. You appear more beautiful with each encounter.

Ringo takes his hat off and nods as if to say hello. He is surprised at how nervous he feels. He begins to shift his feet while waiting for something to say.

"How are you?" He finally asks. Your smile warms his heart and makes him feel at ease. "I've missed you these last couple of days!"

"Oh ok." You look at the ground. "Sorry I have not been in town. I've been just a little upset, that's all."

Ringo desperately wants to know why you're not smiling and even more, wants to put that smile back on your lovely face.

Johnny wants to press the issue because he sincerely cares for you, but doesn't want to come across as pushy or that he's into your business. You sway on your feet with your eyes to the ground. "I think I made a mistake coming here!" At that, Ringo's heart falls and suddenly starts pumping fast. He thought maybe you would want to stay for him. He completely dismisses the idea. As if he had a chance with a beautiful woman who just so happened to be the younger sister of his nemesis, Wyatt Earp. Morgan and Virgil held the same virtues as their brother, but didn't have the same self righteous attitude that Wyatt did. His icy blue eyes and cold stare could pierce through anyone and Wyatt didn't seem the least bit threatened by the Cowboys; if anything he regarded them as a nuisance.

"Why?" Ringo finally manages to ask. You shake your head and look up at the Shakespearean quoting gunfighter.

"It's my brother, Wyatt! He just doesn't want me to do anything! Like I'm not smart enough to take care of myself. Then he wants to be with Josie, who is just like that!"

Ringo looks at you. He knows if you were his sister, he would do anything to protect you. But as a free and natural man himself, he would let you spread your wings a bit.

"Wanna take a walk?" Ringo suggests. You nod your head and take his arm. He's surprised at that and you notice his body stiffen. You see him looking around at everyone in town and you wonder what he is so preoccupied with. Johnny is concerned about anyone telling the Earp brothers that their sister has been seen walking through town with non other than Johnny Ringo.

While walking, the two of you hear the familiar voice of Doc Holiday.

"Well, Johnny Ringo!" The sick doctor starts. "And hello to you, Y/N. A lovely day for a stroll through our little town." Doc looks Ringo up and down and flashes a death smile. As much as Ringo hates the Earps, he has such disdain for Doc Holiday who parallels Johnny's spiritual sickness with his tuberculosis. Doc's pale face forms a sinister smile. "Do your brothers know that Johnny Ringo is escorting you through town. Doc puffs on his cigarette and blows the smoke away from you. His lips curl into a death grin and the sweat beads forming on his brow only add to the sickness he endured.

"I don't care what they think!" You snap. Holliday takes a step back and Ringo marvels at your bravery as he himself wouldn't want to get into it with Doc. You're beautiful in your anger and Johnny is relieved it is not directed at him.

"Y/N," Doc begins, trying to take your arm. Ringo puts his arm around your waist, knowing damn well he could be shot to death by the sick dentist or one of the Earps. But Ringo isn't a man to shy away from a challenge, especially if he's defending a woman. Doc's consumption driven pale eyes looked at Ringo up and down.

"Well, maybe we should just ask this lovely lady here how her bothers would feel if she were seen with or worse..." Doc let the smoke flow from his nose and mouth before finishing his sentence. "Letting the deadliest pistoleer court their darling little sister." Doc's eyes locked with Ringo's. You care about Ringo and this would no be the first time they aired their opinion and concerns about who you associate with. However, you're an Earp and just as stubborn although that stubbornness is not accompanied with the self assurance or rather damn self assurance and self righteousness. Wyatt always had an attitude that he was going to win out over his enemies and most of the time he did. You care about your brothers, but enjoy the budding romance that is blooming between you and Johnny Ringo.

Although Doc seems infuriated with your burst of disobedience and defiance, does not completely show his contempt towards your decision. He takes your arm is if to guide you away from the cowboy, but you resist and pull away quickly much to Doc and Ringo's surprise. Ringo knew spirited women before, but they were usually the older wives of even older farmers or ladies of the line. But a lovely woman who could hold her own was shocking as it was intensely beautiful. When Ringo looks at your eyes that are full of rage, he is relieved that your rage is not directed at him. Your fiery eyes stare through Doc Holliday, who is almost too shocked to speak. An Earp defending Johnny Ringo and forcing her independence all in one moment is not something these men see often, especially in places like this.

"I'm going to let Johnny escort me through town!" You declare.

"You know what will happen," Doc answers, trying once again to get you to walk with him. "If you care about this cowboy," Doc begins, eyeing the gunfighter. "You will not be seen with him anywhere. Anyone who sees you of all people conversing with him could land you both in trouble." Doc takes another drag of his cigarette. "What do you think people will say? They'll look at you the same way they look at him." Doc didn't care that Ringo heard every word he said; the two had a mutual understanding; they couldn't stand each other.

"Oh that's funny, Doc. Considering who my brothers pal on with." Ringo almost laughs out loud as he knows you are referring to your brothers' dark relationship with Doc Holliday, who was a man who never let the law get in his way.

"Pull in your horns, Holliday," Ringo interjects. "Your brothers know where to find me." At that, you take Ringo's arm and the two of you head through town together. He is still marveling at how well you handled yourself; with dignity and grace and yet strong. However, Ringo does feel a strong sense of guilt and shame that you have four or at least three men vying to tell you what to do. You have a rebel attitude so of course Ringo is intrigued. He knows it's only a matter of time before Wyatt has a talk with him and puts spokes in Ringo's wheel by throwing him in jail for a minor offense or just running the whole bunch of wild jackeroos out of town.

"I've never seen anyone talk to Holliday that way," Ringo says while you start walking. You turn and look up at him with fire in your eyes; that fire is married to a vulnerability that is so endearing to Ringo that he can understand why your brothers would be worried for you.

"It's not the first time we've met!" You answer, taking Johnny's arm. As nervous as he is when townspeople stare at the two of you or stop, remove their hats and watch intently as if they needed to verify what they were seeing. Some people looked at each and shook their heads while others laughed or chuckled. You ignore the glances, but you can tell they hurt the big gunfighter. His reputation for being a ruthless and mindless killer has been squelched by the coolness of your kind and nurturing spirit. You are seeing him in ways nobody else does...Not even himself and it causes Johnny to wonder why he held onto so much shame over the years. He intended to be a doctor or a surgeon; women often complimented him on how his hands seemed delicate for a man as bold as he is. Hands that could cure and heal and that was what Ringo wanted; Dr. John Peters Ringo, Surgeon and Healer. But the then the war happened and Ringo saw everything and most everyone he loved fall to their knees due to the Yankee oppression. Ringo dropped out of medical school and vowed to return, but the war had other plans for him. He went off with the Youngers and Charlie Quantrill and others who were of the thinking that the war was still going on and they were not going to rest until they killed every damn Yankee and Jayhawker that wandered through Missouri.

The idea of inflicting pain on others and to destroy the lives of others was something that made Ringo cringe when he was a boy. Then he saw his father die...Why did he do it? Ringo often tossed the idea around that his father wanted to die and that it was no accident that a shotgun blew a bullet through his skull and Ringo can recall his mother dropping to her knees and screaming "Martin! Martin! NO!!"

The sight of his father's dead body laying there in a puddle of blood and brains was an image that was etched into the gunfighters mind. He could never forget it. Liquor helped to numb the pain or sometimes it caused Johnny to wander into the darkness of his own mind. But he and the family continued their journey and this all occurred before the damn Yankees took over.

Ringo sometimes wondered what it would be like if he were the upstanding citizen that he pretended to be when writing letters to his sisters.

"Dear Sisters,

Your brother John is living in Tombstone, Arizona and I own a sizeable spread of cattle. I have prospered and am doing very well. In fact, I am invited to many social clubs where I meet other cattle barons and we share drinks and fine cigars. Please know that I am well!

Ringo recalls writing letters like this and he always hoped to God that his sisters would never come visit. They would come in on the stage and ask the hotel proprietor where they can find John Ringo, cattleman and prominent member of the community. And of course the individual would grow wide eyed with curiosity while eying these lovely ladies. And then they would tell his sisters the truth: "Johnny Ringo doesn't have a room to his name."

Please, God in heaven have mercy and never let them come see me! Or ask for money...

Now Ringo is with a beautiful woman that he can't stop thinking about and it's a damn shame...A damn curse from God or the Devil that Ringo would fall for the sister of his worst enemy. As you walk together, you ask Ringo is he would like a drink somewhere. Ringo agrees, but does not want to go to the Oriental and does not want to go to the Dead End Saloon which was located near the older parts of Allen Street. Ringo did not want to walk into the Oriental with you on his arm, He knew Wyatt was probably there with his brothers and maybe even Doc. He wasn't going to put you in a situation where you would have to go against your brothers in public. Ringo cares too much for you to see you fight with your family. Especially over a good for nothing cowboy who was either going to end up dead or buying a small piece of land, working tirelessly all day while plowing his shit field. But if he has you with him, he'd be happy to do that all day! He imagines you running out to field with cold lemonade or something to eat and he would take you in his arms and tell you how's he's the luckiest man in the world...Or at the happiest...He has what he has always wanted; a wonderful woman to love him, appreciate and respect him and shower him with gratitude for his gallantry and hard work. And in turn, he would rain affection on you and show you as often as possible. All these thoughts whirl through his spinning mind while he walks with you.

The two of you stop in front of the Crystal Palace and he escorts you in. The place looks busy with people sitting at the bar, playing cards or talking with the soiled doves or listening to the lovely lady sing in the back parlor. Ringo eyes the room and sees no one he really knows and nobody who rides with the Earps. Satisfied you both are safe, you walk to a table. He doesn't want to sit at the bar with you as if you are a lady of the line. He orders whiskey and you order wine. The bar dog's hands are trembling when he brings your drinks over. He knows who Ringo is and you sigh with a small degree of contempt over the heat Ringo endures everywhere he goes.

"Well, here's to you, Johnny!" You say, lifting your glass. He smiles and the two of you clink your glasses together. Ringo sips his whiskey slowly before the bar dog returns with a refill. Ringo eyes the bartender and asks for a bottle. Ringo likes how you sip your wine slowly. The Cowboys generally take one shot after another. But you sip your liquor slowly and it is clear you are enjoying it and not downing it in an effort to get sozzled. When Ringo was visiting his family, the Youngers in Missouri, he remembered how John Younger sipped his cognac just like that. It was not about becoming intoxicated, but more about enjoying the moment. And you remind him of his cousins...Ringo pays the tab and orders you another glass of wine. You continue to sip your drink while eyeing Johnny who finds himself almost lost in your loving and kind eyes. Women have always given Ringo kindness. The softness and comfort of a beautiful woman's touch is equal to the angelic; the only beings in the world capable of healing in ways no doctor ever could.

"Here's to you, Y/N," Ringo answers. "I hope you change your mind about leaving..." Ringo lets the words move slowly through the air like a balloon running out of helium.

"I think I am seeing some reasons I should stay." You answer. Ringo's heart lifts and he hopes that your motives are related to him.

"Oh?" He asks, taking another sip of whiskey.

"Yes. It took quite a while to get here and I thought maybe I could perform at the theater. Wyatt or Morgan or Virgil can't stop me from doing that!"

"Is that the only reason?" Ringo asks.

Your dancing eyes light up when you look at him.

"Well, no. I like it here. I like..." You smile and sip your wine.

"I like you, Johnny. And I don't care what my brothers think. I would like to keep seeing you and I am not ashamed to be seen with you!"

Your bold declaration causes something to stir inside him and he can feel his throbbing masculinity begin to awaken. He doesn't know what to say.

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies …" Ringo says to you, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile at him. "Lord Byron," you answer, smiling. Ringo is surprised and pleased that you have heard of one of this favorite poets. Each time you are together, you surprise and delight him.

"Sho'ly he was writing about you, Y/N." Ringo says, a small glow burning in his eyes and a fire in his heart. Ringo feel like death most of the time and sometimes wonders why he wakes up everyday in a world that seems to hate him. But then you came into this life and changed everything.

"You're nothing like your brothers," Johnny remarks, sipping more whiskey. You look at your glass of wine as if you're trying to find the right words to say something, but just can't bring yourself to.

"What it is?" He asks.

"I uh...well. It's just that I'm not actually an Earp."

Johnny's face turns inquisitive and he is at a loss for words. "What do you mean?"

You take a few sips of wine and it is clear to Ringo that there's something you desperately want to tell him. He doesn't want to push you so he simply puts his hand on your leg to show his compassion for you.

"Do you mean you're adopted?" Johnny inquires.

You shrug your shoulders and look into his intense eyes; eyes that are so full of pain and wonder yet mixed with a yearning for life and love. His eyes showed a man who was capable of deep feeling, empathy and compassion. You can see that he is nothing like your brothers described. His reputation was not even a shadow of him but another person altogether.

He tried to recall when exactly he became Johnny Ringo, the deadliest pistoleer since Wild Bill and Billy the Kid. Maybe it was his father's death, his mother's disapproval of his lack of faith or maybe it was the war...Or all of that. Those events and moments caused a gentle man to turn to lawlessness and killing. He recalled how he was tortured by a Union Captain when he was separated from Quantrill during a guerilla raid. He was tied to a post and whipped until he almost passed out and there were still traces of the scars on his back.

"Johnny..." You whisper do to the pain this is causing you. "My mother had a love while my father was away..." Your eyes well with tears and Ringo looks into your eyes. "Do you think that's wicked, Johnny? Being a love child? It wasn't even my mother who told me. My mother's aunt told me when she was dying...she had to get it off her chest I suppose. You can't imagine my confusion!"

"So you're not of the same father..."Johnny says in a rhetorical way.

"No...my father was an Italian and a performer. He did everything... Dancing, acting, signing. His troop came to town and...well." You look at your glass of wine and gulp down the rest. Your eyes suddenly look tired and sad as if it took so much for you to admit that and Johnny feels a strong sense of relief yet sympathy. To grow up thinking a man was your father only to find out he isn't and what's worse is you'll probably never meet your real father. Ringo admires your courage and your strength. Your beauty should have been a dead giveaway. You look nothing like your brothers.

"You're a strong woman. Maybe that is the Italian in you." Johnny comments. "How about some fresh air?" The two of you leave and walk until you're far enough away from town that the sounds of Tombstone begin to fade and you're finally alone. A lush carpet of wildflowers burst up through the ground and are shaded by a few Palo Verdes. A monsoon had come through Arizona and small puddles of glistening water framed the bed of flowers.

The two of you turn to each other. He cups your face and to his own surprise, he kisses your lips. He is overwhelmed by his sudden burst of passion. The two of stay locked in a kiss before looking at each other, your eyes full of wonder and Johnny's are suddenly vulnerable. You begin trembling and the cowboy holds you close. You embrace for a few moments before exchanging another kiss. He touches your face and feels so blessed just to be with you.

"Let's walk," Johnny suggests. The two of walk together without saying a word. The birds above sing softly and you can hear the summer insects chime in between the bird songs. A wonderful melody of nature surrounds you while butterflies and dandelion puff float through the air. The scene is soft and beautiful unlike town.

The two of you sit under a tree near a small bed of flowers.

Johnny wonders what you see in him as he feels he has lost his handsome face and body due to the war, whiskey and gunfighting. He often avoided looking in the mirror because when he did, he saw a man with sunken and sad eyes and and a face pale from the traumas of his life. The guilt and shame that Ringo often felt weighed so heavy on his heart, it caused him to age. You look beautiful and your eyes sparkle and glow, especially when you smile. He wants to ask you, but hesitates.

"Johnny, what do you want to do?"

Ringo looks puzzled for a moment.

"I mean do you ever think this place will be a ghost town like Calico City in Kansas? What would you want?"

Ringo wishes be had a solid answer for you, but with his red sash gang and with Curly Bill as a best friend, he figured he would be shot, jailed or hanged before he ever got to decide what he wanted.

"I guess buy a small bed of land and tend it. It ain't so bad. Farming I mean."

"I think farming is wonderful! Growing things." You pick a flower and smell it before giving it to Johnny. He pulls you towards him and you fall into his arms and the two of kiss. He lays you down on the soft, dry ground and begins removing the lacing on your dress. Your heart begins beating like mad as Johnny pulls your dress away and shows your breast. He begins caressing your breast, trying to arouse you. He begins to undress. He puts his jacket behind your head and suddenly feels guilty that he's too broke to take you to a hotel. But he loves how spontaneous you are.

Ringo gets on top of you and his throbbing curiosity finds yours and the two of you are joined in a unique union of love so powerful, you see stars when Johnny drives you to ecstasy. You suddenly cry out loudly and then softly, laughing with tears forming in your eyes. He reaches his climax and begins laughing out loud in spite of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made love to a woman; he had plenty of encounters with the chippies and rameras, but the comfort of a woman's body that trembles and moves under a man, a body pure and loving with no other agenda that to give pleasure because of the result of deep feeling. Ringo covers you with his shirt and you kiss. Ringo stops and sees you're crying. He suddenly feels shame for taking you like that and hopes you're not disgusted with yourself or him.

"What, Y/N?"

"Oh Johnny! I think I.." He puts his hand over your lips. You want to tell him how you feel and that he is the only reason you want to stay in Tombstone. Now that you have made love, you want to be with Johnny. You know he's loyal to Curly Bill, who would probably be thrilled to know a woman came into Ringo's life and awakened the gunfighter's spirit.

He laces your dress before putting his own clothes back on. Your hair is wet with the sweat that formed when Johnny drove you to bloom inside of him. The two of rise and look at each other. You share another kiss before Johnny takes you home. While on your front doorstep, Johnny asks when he can see you again.

"Tomorrow!" You kiss him and invite him inside. He takes his hat off and explains that he's probably in enough trouble with your brothers.

CHAPTER THREE:

An Unyielding Love

Johnny leaves and returns to town and heads for the Oriental. When he walks in, the Earps are lined up at the bar, facing the batwings Johnny Ringo just came through. Johnny walks up to the bar and Rattlesnake Jack walks over.

"Whiskey," Ringo says without looking at anyone. The bar dog returns with a glass and a bottle as he knows Johnny Ringo is going to ask for more. Ringo takes too shots before hearing the familiar voice of Wyatt Earp.

"Ringo," Earp begins.

"Earp." Ringo answers.

"I want you to stay away from my sister." Wyatt's icy blue eyes stared Ringo down, but at that moment, Ringo still felt the delight of your love and even Wyatt couldn't take that away. Ringo smiles to himself. If only you knew, you bastard...

"She can make up her own mind." The gunfighter states.

"No she can't." Wyatt declares. Ringo scoffs at Wyatt who's piercing eyes looked lifeless at Ringo. Eyes that saw the same horrors of war Ringo witnessed. And eyes that don't lie. His demeanor was so full of self assurance, it made Ringo want to slap the faro dealer. At that moment, Virgil and Morgan came over.

"Did you tell him?" Virgil asks.

Ringo looks at the three men who are staring at the cowboy, their expressions bordering on disgust. It made Ringo sick that these three self righteous brothers could have such a hatred for the Cowboys and their business dealings. Doc Holliday had been accused of cheating several times at the Oriental and although many patrons expressed their concerns to the Earps, they always seemed to look the other way. Wyatt moves close to Ringo. It was not so much that Wyatt doesn't want you dating or having any of the men in Tombstone court you, but more that it is Johnny Ringo. Wyatt would rather you be with anyone but the Shakespearean quoting pistoleer.

Ringo stands up and he is at least two inches taller than Wyatt and uses that fact to stand over the Dodge City law dog.

"I'm warning you, Ringo!" Wyatt snaps.

Ringo looks down at Wyatt and at that moment, Doc Holliday strolls through the batwings to stand by the Earps Ringo is in no state to fight although it is clear that Holliday is intoxicated. But even when is that drunk, the doctor of death still had some of the steadiest hands Ringo had ever seen.

"Well, Johnny Ringo. What a fool you are thinking you can court the younger sister of the Earps." He flashes a sick smile and his pale face curls into a cruel smile; a smile that says, "you will lose, cowboy!"

"Why don't you leave Y/N alone. She seems old enough to know what's right for her." Ringo feels cornered.

"You don't talk about her!" Morgan growls. "You and your cowboys better stay away from her." Morgan stands tall, but is still a bit shorter than Ringo. The only one not talking is Virgil, who Ringo notices is simply eyeing the cowboy up and down with such contempt, it wouldn't surprise Ringo is the older brother shot him dead right there. The hatred between the two factions was so intense, it fell over the place like a dark cloud. Ringo took his glass, finished his drink and made his way to the batwings.

Morgan moved towards Ringo and his brothers restrained him. "Not now, Morg! We'll get him sooner or later! We'll get all of them!"

Get me? Ringo rages in his mind. Ringo returns to the cowboy camp so full of frustration and anger. He sees Curly Bill who is usual spinning old stories, adding to them each time he tells them. Curly can see Ringo is in no mood to socialize. When Ike and Billy Clanton ask Curly about Ringo, Curly already knows; Ringo has been away from the camp for a few days, only returning to get some sleep and Curly Bill knew it was because he was spending time with you. Those damn self righteous Earps! Curly raged in his mind. It was clear how Ringo feels about you and Curly Bill would hate to see love ripped from Johnny's life. Especially at the hands of their nemesis.

"Hey Ringo! You with Y/N?" Frank McClaury shouts. At that, Curly Bill looks over at the cowboy and growls, "Don't even say her name, Frank! You don't know nothin' about her!"

"She's an Earp, ain't she?" Frank bellowed. "You can't trust that bitch!" Curly Bill stand up, ready to deck McClaury who like Ike ran his mouth too much.

Ringo emerges from his tent and eyes McClaury, who is suddenly backed by his brother Tom and a few other cowboys.

Curly Bill eyes the cowboys and chuckles while flicking his tongue. "That's a hard row to hoe, Frank!" Curly bellows. "You ain't fightin' Ringo! You'll find yourself in a heap of trouble real fast and no one's going up against Ringo! So hobble your lip, Frank!" The big rustler sits back down and Ringo and Curly share a look. Ringo returns to his tent and falls asleep, thinking of the afternoon and the perfect love you made. His mind wanders without the limits or borders of guilt and shame, but a flood of desire, wonder and absolute love. He can still feel your body under him, moving effortlessly with the rhythm of his body. How his manliness caused beads of sweat to form around your lovely hair and the sounds of your climax along with your laughing floods his ears like a warm rush of spring water. He smiles to himself. He lets his mind settle into a secret dream...

He is dressed in white and you are covered in a light blue that highlights your expressive eyes. The air feels sweet with springtime and eddies of color bloom and fade before him while he makes his way to you. You face each other as if you are about to exchange your precious vows to each other. You blink slowly and brush your hair away from your face. He feels no guilt or shame or fear and the sun is so bright, it is nearly blinding, but doesn't bother him. The two of you fall into a soft embrace and he kisses your neck, causing passion to stir within you. You share a kiss and he strokes your hair and your face while his hands are working stroking the rest of your body, moving from your shoulders to your breasts and down to your hips. You continue to kiss until he can hear the voice of Wyatt Earp.

"Stand up, Ringo!" Ringo is still lost in his dream and wants to wake up, but his tired body remains asleep.

Wyatt has a double barreled shotgun pointing at Ringo. Morgan, Doc and Virgil come out from where they were standing and they are armed as well. Doc sneers at the cowboy. "You're outnumbered, rustler," Wyatt states. He looks over his brothers and Doc. "Tie him up!" The men get a hold of your love while Doc holds your arms behind your back which only causes Ringo to fall into a dark rage. "Let go of her, Holliday!" Ringo screams in his mind.

"And what if I don't?" Holliday joked, mocking Ringo. Morgan and Virgil got a hold of Ringo and tied his arms to a fence post.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, cowboy," Wyatt says, moving toward Johnny, his shotgun never leaving the site of Ringo's head. Ringo tries to escape, but the tie ropes are tight. Wyatt slaps Johnny, who grits his teeth and hold back his anger, but it is obvious how angry he is by the tears forming in his eyes. Holliday wrestles you to the ground and tries to undress you. Ringo becomes so overwhelmed, he screams, "NO!!" And at that moment, he awakes and realizes he was dreaming. He gasps and looks around the cowboy camp. Most of the men are asleep, but there are a few sitting around a campfire talking.

"Jesus.." He whispers. Afraid to return to sleep for fear of having another nightmare about you, he reaches for his writing materials and begins to write in his journal:

I met the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and her smile lights up my soul. Her name is Y/N and I believe I have fallen in love with her. I always wanted to experience this kind of love, but then the war came...I want to take her away from everything. I can't do much or anything besides farming or maybe working as a tutor or maybe a deputy in a place no one knows who I am...I can change my name and she can change hers...I can't stand the thought of her losing anyone in her life because of me...I would be the happiest man in the world if she would agree to be my one and only. My beautiful and wonderful loving wife who I rescued from her brothers.

Ringo closes his journal and shuts his eyes while imagining riding out of Arizona on his stallion with you holding his waist and telling him how you love him and are so grateful for him for rescuing you. A man can dream, he thought. And my dreams are so much brighter than my memories. The sweetness of the image in his mind is so delightful, he falls back asleep.

The following day, Ringo awakes and has a small breakfast of beans and bacon; a cowboy's staple. He sees other cowboys sharpening their bowie knives, twirling their pistols or downing coffee.

"Hey, Juanito!" Curly Bill bellows. Ringo nods at his friend and gets ready to go to town. The McClaury's stay quiet and don't want another episode with Ringo, who is already touchy and extremely protective of women. Ringo shakes Curly's hand and the two exchange a mutual glance. Curly Bill would do everything Ringo is doing for Y/N. If Curly could find a woman like you, he would leave everything behind and take you away and start a new life. He can't blame Ringo for risking so much for you as he knows he would do the same.

Ringo mounts his horse and heads out to Tombstone, knowing you are probably already there shopping, going to the library, meeting a friend for lunch or going to the museum which he knows you love.

Ringo takes his horse to the livery, tips the stable kid and begins his journey through town. Some residents eyed him cautiously, others turned away from him and some showed their contempt with sneers. Today it did not bother him as much; even though he knew anyone of them could look down at the cowboy with the kind of scorn reserved for the righteous and decent. But you make him feel like he is more than just a down and dirty cowboy.

While moving across the street, he sees Wyatt and his brothers marching towards him. Ringo tries to ignore the trio, but knows he can't. Wyatt and the others stop in front of Johnny. Many townspeople leave or head into the shops. closing the doors. More trouble between the Earps and the Cowboys.

"What's it gonna take, Ringo?" Wyatt growls. "I told you to stay away from Y/N!" Ringo is suddenly surrounded by the brothers and Doc Holliday emerges from a corner, his loud coughing can be heard down the street. He coughs up a drop of blood and eyes Ringo with a stare so cold, he swears the doctor is already dead. Ringo looks around and sees the armed make shift posse.

"Wyatt Earp!" A voice screams from a distance. Wyatt and his brothers turn and they see you running towards them. "Wyatt! What the hell are you doing?" Wyatt gaps at your sudden burst of passion and he turns with his mouth hanging open.

"This don't concern you, sister!" Morgan interrupts.

"Shut up, Morgan!" You rage much to Ringo's pleasant surprise.

"You better watch it," Virgil steps in, coming close enough for your bodies to touch.

You turn to face your brothers with a fire in your eyes so strong, Wyatt's icy blue piercing eyes couldn't extinguish it. Johnny loves you in your anger because your eyes are full of passion and he can't help but enjoy your admonishment of his enemies.

"No! You better watch it!" You demand, causing Virgil to back away. They know that you are different from them; your fire and passion is never contained the way theirs is. Ringo smiles and cannot help but chuckle a bit. Here he thought he was as good as dead and a relative of the Earp brothers is coming to his rescue. If people did not see it for themselves, they never would have believed it.

"You need to learn to mind me, woman!" Wyatt says, taking you by the arm. You pull away with such ferocity, it scares Wyatt and the fear on his face is clear.

"Don't tell me what I need, Wyatt! You act like you are so much better than those you knock over the head and throw in jail! Well, you're not, Wyatt. You're not my father!!"

"I promised mom and dad I would look after you! And you will do as I say, sister! Now you are going to stay away from Johnny Ringo! You understand me, woman?"

"My name is Y/N! You self righteous bastard! Wyatt grabs your shoulders and forces you towards him. "Let go of me, you cold hearted son of a bitch!" At that moment, you slap your brother so hard, he falls backwards. Ringo's eyes are so wide with wonder and he can't believe what you just did. Doc Holliday moves close and pulls your arm, angry that you just humiliated his friend. "Don't even think about it, Holliday!" You sneer at him while Virgil and Morgan take your arms and hold them behind your back. "Let go of me!" You scream.

"Let her go!" Ringo finally manages to say. He'd been rendered speechless by your courage and willingness to defend yourself against some of the coldest men in the west. At that moment, Curly Bill and some other cowboys are well within sight of the altercation. Curly Bill chuckles and folds his arms, marveling at you and your unwillingness to let your brothers control you. Wyatt rubs his face where you slapped him and realizes his lip is bleeding.

"Everyone back away now!" Wyatt shouts. "You are coming with me, Y/N! You are getting on the stage tomorrow and you are going back to California since you can't be trusted to make your own choices!"

You rip away from your brothers who were still holding you tightly.

"I am not doing anything you say!" You yell at Wyatt, who is concerned about the crowd gathering and how people would talk how he couldn't control his younger sister and how she ran off with a cowboy right under his nose. If he can't protect his own sister, how the hell would be able to run for sheriff? His frustration is growing and he is desperate to control you. But it is clear you are not going to be controlled. The Earps came from Scottish and English ancestry, but you are not; your father was an Italian and full of fire and passion and it is so unfitting with the rest of your family. You must take after your father, Ringo thinks.

"You need to understand something," Wyatt begins. You cut him off quickly. "No! You need to understand something!" You look over at Ringo, who is still recovering from the shock of seeing you stand up to all four men who though they had such power over him.

"I love Johnny Ringo!" Your declaration causes some townsfolk to put their hands over their open mouths in absolute shock. Curly Bill laughs and wishes he could relive this moment over and over.

"I'm tired of you telling me what to do! You have been doing that my entire life. I did not come to Arizona to have you three and this circus freak friend of yours dictate my life!" The Cowboys can barely contain their laughter at how well you insult their enemies. And all by yourself!

"You'll be sorry!' Wyatt states, staring you down.

"Not as sorry as you'll be if you try to tell me what to do or who to see. I care about Johnny and he cares about me." At that moment, Ringo puts his arm around your waist and he can't believe what is happening. His head is spinning so fast, he's grateful for you because his knees are so weak he wouldn't be able to shoot fish in a barrel.

"Alright! Maybe sometime in jail will change your mind," Wyatt growls. Your brothers take your arms and tell you not to shout out. "Whatever it takes to keep you away from Ringo.

"You can't arrest me, Wyatt!"

"I am not arresting you. You are now under house arrest!"

"NO!" You scream, pulling away from your brothers. "Johnny! Help me!" Ringo feels helpless as Morgan and Virgil are still pointing pistols at his head. "Take her home and we'll get some good men to stand guard until we can get her on the stage."

Ringo who was certain he would be leaving with you and starting a life is now seeing you practically being kidnapped by your brothers. Curly Bill eyes Wyatt. "You son of a bitch," he growls.

Doc Holliday is charged with returning you home with Morgan and Virgil. Wyatt is still in town, hoping to send a strong message to Ringo and all the cowboys to stay away from you. Of all men...Why did it have to be Ringo?" Wyatt shakes his head. He doesn't care who you see as long as it's not one of the Cowboys.

CHAPTER FOUR:

Riding For Love

Back at your home, Doc ties your arms behind your back before securing you to a chair. You struggle, but cannot get free.

"You son on of a bitch!" You scream at Holliday, who casually lights up a cigarette. Your brothers stand outside the door. You struggle against the ropes at Doc's amusement and you curse him under your breath.

In the meantime, Ringo is picked up by Wyatt and a few others while he is getting his horse from the livery. When he turned, he them.

"Where do you think you're going, Ringo?" One of the deputies demands. "You can't save her, rustler. She's being guarded until we put her on the stage. I don't care what we have to do to keep you away from her!"

They take a hold of Ringo and bring him to the town jail and lock him up. Wyatt jingles the keys before Ringo in a taunting manner. "I always win, John. One way or another. The two of you will never be in the same room again, lessen she's visiting you in the hell bound prison I'm sending you!" Ringo bangs the bars of bus prison cell.

"You no good son if bitch!" Ringo rages. Wyatt smiles. "When will you Cowboys get it? Tombstone is our town. Y/N is not going to ruin my chances at becoming U.S. Marshall because of you, Ringo."

Ringo shakes the bars and tries to control his overwhelming rage. "You don't care about Y/N! You rat bastard!" Ringo moves away from the bars and sits on the cot in the small prison. He holds his head in his hands for a moment. Wyatt is enjoying watching the gunfighter squirm. Ringo was right on some level; Wyatt didn't care much about you. He knows you're not one of them and Wyatt always held a space of anger against his mother for straying in the marriage and deciding to raise her love child without ever telling his father the truth. Wyatt's mother told Wyatt that no one would believe him and that when her sister confessed to Wyatt about his mother's affair, it was a matter of pride for Wyatt. He didn't reveal to his brothers until you were older. Wyatt's disdain for how his mother betrayed his father caused great pain for him. He regards you as the fruit of adultery and that fact if it ever got out could ruin Wyatt's chances to enter into public office. You like the Cowboys were an obstacle.

Ringo eyes Wyatt who is still jingling the keys that represent Ringo's freedom. "By the time you're out of here, Y/N will be on a train and will be far away from you and you will never find her! So just sit and think about that, cowboy!"

"You are an unimaginable son of a bitch," Ringo declares.

Wyatt looks through Ringo with a coldness Ringo could feel.

"I'll leave Tombstone!" Ringo says, his head in his hands. "Let Y/N go and I'll leave and I'll never see her again. Let her go! Let her decide!"

"So she can run off with you and make a fool out of me?" Wyatt shook his head. "No one is going to interfere with my plans. Especially not some piece of forbidden fruit that was born out of infidelity!"

"You and your self righteousness!" Ringo rages.

"It's what is right. So say goodbye to your sweetheart!" Wyatt turns to leave and Ringo sits in a cell, feeling helpless that he can't come to your rescue. He knows you're strong, but your brothers can overpower you. What that Doc Holliday is doing with you just to piss Ringo off when he hears about it.

Doc Holliday tells you he'll untie your hands if you promise not to attack him the way you attacked Wyatt in the street. You assure the death doctor you will comply and he unties you. You rub your raw wrists and move to the sink for some water.

"Where is Johnny?" You demand.

"Rotting in a jail cell, darling. You really thought you were going to be with Johnny Ringo? You have no idea what's about to happen..."

You turn to face Doc after gulping your water.

"What do you care?" You ask.

"Johnny Ringo will never be with you. He'll grow bored with such an association. Remember who he is...And who he always will be."

"Yeah, better than all of you!" You shout. At that moment, Virgil enters.

"Why did you untie her?" He demands.

"Why, Virgil. You know she can't go anywhere and you know Johnny Ringo will not be coming to your rescue. He'll be hanged before you get back to California." You're so full of rage, you charge Holliday like a bull, but you are intercepted by Morgan. "Just give up, Y/N! We know what we're doing."

Doc smiles. He delights in getting one over on Ringo and what better way to anger the gunfighter by holding his woman against her will?

Back at the Cowboys camp, Curly Bill is passing a bottle of whiskey around and staring into the fire. Breckenridge told Curly what happened and now he's planning to help Ringo bust out of jail and rescue you. Curly Bill is not going to let the Earps have their way. Especially when it comes to one or two of their own. Since you're Ringo's girl, saving you is just as important to the Cowboys.

"How we gonna get Ringo out?" Ike whines. "Ain't he being guarded by them boys? How we gonna get to him?"

Curly Bill answers without taking his eyes off the fire. "We're gonna position ourselves like we did when we finished off them greasers in Skeleton Canyon. Them boys think they're real clever...But we've broken boys out of jail before and we can do it again."

Stillwell, Diehl, Indian Charlie, Barnes and the Clanton's and McClaury's sat around the fire.

"They wanna go up against one of us...You come down on all of us! That's the Cowboy way," Curly takes a swing of whiskey and passes it to Stillwell. "We're all in, Curly." Stillwell remarks.

"Let's go while them Earps are dealin' faro. Those bastards don't know what we know." Curly Bill rises and mounts his horse. The Cowboys follow slowly and quietly. They enter into town one or two at a time as too not draw attention. Curly looks at the jail and notices No Neck Ned playing with his pistol. The older dude can't hardly twirl it without it falling to the ground and Curly thinks the old timer just may shoot himself in the foot before he kills anyone.

The Cowboys surrounded the jail and Curly looks inside and sees Ringo with his head in his hands.

"Don't worry, Juanito," Curly whispers. "Tomorrow morning, you'll be holding Y/N in your arms. We ain't gonna let them Earps take her away from you. I sure as hell would risk everything for her..."

Stillwell and Barnes grab No Neck Ned and thrust his arms behind his back.

"Make a noise, you're dead, No Neck," Stillwell says in a quiet and gritty voice. "Real slow, old timer." A few Cowboys stay outside while Stillwell and Curly go inside.

Curly takes the keys and jingles them. "Well, Johnny...Why so glum?" Ringo looks up and sees Curly Bill with a smug smile while he flicks his tongue as he does when he's amused.

"How the hell?" Ringo begins.

Ringo follows Curly and the others out. In the night, they sneak out and ride back to their camp to gather some things before going to your place where Holliday is still holding you hostage. Holliday takes a flask from his pocket and takes a swig. "Well, it looks like I'm in need of fermented lots."

"I'm going into town." Doc shakes his empty flask.

"Is she tied up?" Virgil asks.

"No..."

Virgil goes inside. You stand before your half brother. "Get a hold of her!" He demands.

Morgan and Doc restrain you and once again tie you to the chair. "You'll be untied when you get on the stage," Virgil growls. Doc leaves and goes straight to the Oriental. When he arrives, he sees Wyatt dealing faro.

"Hello, Doc." Wyatt says, not looking up from dealing.

"Well, Wyatt. How's your prisoner?"

"Still sitting in his jail cell. No Neck Ned is guarding him.

"I'd be happy to check on him for you." Doc orders whiskey and downs three shots before heading to the jail. No Neck Ned puts his hands up.

"Them boys was gonna shoot me. I ain't dying for some no good gunfighter and I sure as hell not takin' a bullet for one of you boys."

"What the hell?" Wyatt demands. He almost shoots the old guard. He was stupid to let Ned stand guard. They went in and see the empty room.

"Shit!" Wyatt exclaims! "Get out to that camp!"

"You think they'll still be there?" Ned inquires.

"Them boys are stupid enough to stick around. Get back to the house and make sure Y/N is still there. Damnit!!"

Back at the house, Doc returns. Unbeknownst to him, you've managed to loosen your tie ropes. You sit in the chair with your arms behind your back and stare up at the stone cold doctor.

"Well, well! I just found out Ringo decided to leave town with a ramera. One of his chippies. He was never loyal to you. Didn't your brothers tell you?" Doc is close enough that you can smell his sickness mixed with the whiskey and stale smoke that seem to be his signature aroma.

Doc brushes your face with his hand and chuckles. At that moment, you stand quickly and punch Holliday so hard, he falls and is knocked out. You grab his pistol. Morgan and Virgil enter the house and you stand before then like a wild warrior, Doc's iron handled pistol in your hand. You point it at your brothers.

"Put it down, Y/N! This won't work! Wyatt's on his way here."

"Really? You inquire not moving.

"You listen..." Morgan moves towards you and tries to grab the pistol from your hand. Doc sits up and in your distraction, Virgil grabs the gun from you. Before he has a chance to cock it, you kick it out of his hand. Virgil moves to grab it, but you dive under the small table and slide across the floor. Morgan grabs your hair and you turn and kick him in the face. He falls backwards and drops his gun.

"Bitch," Doc growls. You turn to face Doc who has underestimated your fighting skill. You grab the gun, but Virgil pulls your arm and the gun flies out of your reach again.

"Damnit!" Virgil yells as he moves to you a second time. This time, you kick Virgil so hard in the shins, he falls in agony. Virgil staggers to his feet and wipes drool that is coming from the side of his mouth. Doc grabs you from behind. You twist his arm so hard he cries out and then you send Virgil back to the floor by kicking him in the balls so hard, he falls to the floor coughing and cursing.

"Oh, you're finished!" Morgan tells you. Doc tries to grab you again and this time you punch the doctor and he falls again. Morgan charges you. You grab a vase that is sitting on a table and bash him in the head.

All three men are on the ground when Wyatt finally gets there with two deputies; Slim and Yankee Jay. You're breathing heavily, your hair is wild around your beautiful face. Wyatt looks at his brothers and friend in complete shock. He knew you were tough....But had no idea you could take on three men by yourself without a pistol. He continues to stare with his mouth agape. "What the hell?" Your breathing continues.

"I told you you were not going to tell me what to do!" At that moment, Wyatt slaps you and you fall backwards.

"Tie her up!" Wyatt demands his deputies. "We're ending this!"

The deputies tie to a beam with your arms over your head. They have you tied so tight, you can barely struggle. But you're finally unable to fight.

Ringo and the other Cowboys were riding to your house while Wyatt was holding you prisoner.

"Let me go!"

Curly Bill and Ringo along with the other Cowboys surround the house.

Slim turns his head and a bullet comes out of nowhere and hits the deputy in the chest. He falls to the ground and meets his maker. Another bullet came through the window and hit Yankee Jay in the head. Wyatt can hear Curly Bill's loud guffawing.

"Hey Wyatt!" Curly shouts. "You give up yet?"

"What do you think you're gonna do, Ringo?" Wyatt yells. "Rescue the damsel in distress?"

"Damn right," Curly growls.

You know now how much Johnny cares for you now. You continue to struggle, but cannot get free. Wyatt stands alone in the room in complete disbelief that you knocked out three grown men.

Ringo leads the Cowboys into your house. He sees you tied up and suddenly feels like Perseus saving Andromeda. He looks around and sees Holliday along with the other Earp brothers on the floor because you knocked them out.

"Well, well," Curly chuckles. "Someone sure had some fun." He winks at you. Ringo desperately wants to untie you, but knows he can't yet. You look at each other...You look so helpless even though you clearly are a strong and capable woman.

"Wyatt," Curly Bill begins. "Looks like you're outnumbered. We ain't leaving without Y/N. You understand? Cuz I ain't kiddin'!"

Wyatt cocks his pistol, but before he can do anything, Ringo fires a shot in the air that blows Wyatt's gun right out his hand.

"The deadliest pistoleer since Pat Garrett and Wild Bill," Curly laughs.

Wyatt turns to leave and then looks at the Cowboys. "This ain't over."

"Well, I guess we'll meet again," Curly answers, tipping his hat.

You continue to struggle against your tie ropes. "Johnny...Joh.....Neeee..." You can barely speak and after that you have been through and what you have done in the name of love would exhaust anyone.

Ringo takes his Bowie knife from his pocket and cuts the ropes that are holding you prisoner and keeping you from holding him.

You fall into his arms and the two of you share a moment of pure love. Ringo begins to sob while stroking your hair. "Y/N...I thought I lost you!"

"Never!" You answer, holding your cowboy tight.

"Three Cheers for Ringo and Y/N!" Curly starts whistling and the cowboys start hooting and howling, firing their pistols into the air.

Although Ringo knows you're more than capable, he picks you up and carries you outside. He loves being a hero for you, but is amazed at how strong you are; how you could take on three men at once...And not just any..The Earp brothers and Doc Holliday were rendered helpless by you.

Ringo mounts his horse and pulls you up. You wrap yourself around Johnny and he feels like he is living the dream of rescuing you from the oppression of your jealous brothers who had an odd obsession with you. He wonders if Wyatt had a secret devotion to you, but conflicted due to your lineage. How disgusting to think that the self righteous son of a bitch had his eyes on his own half sister and didn't want any man touching her.

You hold his waist just like in his fantasies about you. The wind blows through your hair and feels like true freedom. You can hear Curly's loud guffawing at the lead of the Cowboys who draw their pistols and fire them into the air. You all head back to the Cowboy camp where some other boys are waiting. They all start whistling and hooting and shouting, firing their guns in the air.

"You did it, Johnny!" Claireborne shouts.

"Boys! We got us a real live one here! Y/N proved she ain't scared and she whooped some ass on them boys! You shoulda seen it, fellas! Or you won't believe it if I told you! Somethin' y'all need to see. She had them boys knocked out!"

You and Johnny turn to each other and you both don't care that the entire red sash gang is watching, you embrace and become locked in a passionate kiss that goes on for several moments. You don't really care that Curly Bill and his gang are whistling and cheering. You and Johnny rescued each other and it was not just that you proved yourself to be a force to be reckoned with, you awakened Ringo's almost comatose spirit and brought him back to the light. You stirred the embers on his breaking heart and ignited a blaze that he himself can't fully understand yet. But Ringo knows what it feels like to be truly alive and not moving through life like a ghost sitting outside the circle and watching from afar as he stays in darkness.

"I love you, Johnny Ringo!" You say with pride. Curly Bill cheers for his best friend.

"I love you, Y/N. You can't imagine what you mean to me and what our time together has meant...if you'll marry me, I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy. And if you say yes to this old cowboy, I'll be the happiest man alive!" He falls to his knees and you pull him back up to face you much to his surprise. You want him at your level and not staring down at him. And he loves that you regard him in that way.

"Yes, Johnny! I will and I'll be the happiest woman alive and I swear to make you happy!"

"Let's hear it for Ringo and Y N!" Curly shouts again. "We're having a wedding, boys!"

Ringo does not want a big wedding the way Curly Bill would. He can't wait to see you as his bride and he hopes nothing will ever come between you two again. Curly Bill reassures his friend that the red sash Cowboys are going to do whatever it takes to ensure your wedding day even if they have to execute every son of a bitch that tries to upset your wedding day. Curly will have men standing guard with their double barreled shotguns ready to empty at any fool that thinks they can interfere. Curly always has Ringo's back.

CHAPTER FIVE

Bound By Love and Honor

In the meantime while the Earps are nursing their wounds, James, the oldest brother of the Earps receives a letter from his s little sister. You have always had a close relationship with James and he was the first brother to learn of who your father was and yet never looked down on you because of it.

Dear Brother James...

By now you probably know I am still in Tombstone. Things here have been very different than I ever expected. I know that Wyatt and Virgil have been writing to you about me and now I am begging for your intervention. You see, I have fallen in love with Johnny Ringo...He is in love with me. We have been through much together. Wyatt, Morgan and Virgil are doing what they have always done. They want to keep me and Johnny apart...I implore you to come to Arizona and please give me and Johnny Ringo your blessing. I would do anything to have my father here, but I have been unable to find him... Please come, James!

Love,

YN...

When James Earp reads your letter, he is deeply moved. He understands how his younger brothers can be; especially Wyatt, who hid behind self righteousness on an attempt to hide his obsession with you. After careful reflection, he decides to go to Arizona to not only give you his blessing, but also to help you. He is moved by your honesty. As the oldest brother of the family, he feels it is up to him to help you make peace with your brothers. He knows who Johnny Ringo is and of course is concerned, but the way you describe Ringo in previous letters, it seemed many were wrong about the gunman. James packs a bag and heads for the train depot. The ticket agent asks where to and the passenger simply states, "Tombstone, Arizona." James hands the agent the funds for the ticket plus a few dollars more for not asking questions. James takes a seat on the train near a strange yet very handsome looking man. James would not normally describe a man as gorgeous, but this man was undoubtedly the most attractive man James has ever seen and in some ways, the stranger's eyes remind him of yours.

The strange man is reading a newspaper while sipping a glass of red wine.

"Good afternoon, sir," James says with an attempt to keep polite conversation.

"Bon Giorno!" The stranger replies while taking another sip of wine. He crushes out his cigarette in the ashtray provided and goes back to reading his paper. James eyes the familiar stranger.

"Where are you off to? James Earp asks, settling into his seat.

"Andare a Casa," the strange man replies. "Finally..." The stranger takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his eyes.

"Lei è bellissima," the man whispers, crushing out his cigarette. lei è "Vorrei non averlamai vista..." The older man looks at James Earp with wide dark eyes that seem to dance with light of the evening and the dimness of the inside of the train. The stranger lit another cigarette. "Lei è una bellezza."

James buries his interests in the newspaper provided by the railroad. He could not shake the fact that he has seen this man before; his eyes looked so familiar. It was late so James put his head against the window and fell asleep. When he wakes, he notices two glasses of red wine to The stranger picks up one of the glasses and says, "here is to love..." He sips it carefully and allows the warm liquid coat his throat which he clears before putting the glass back on the table. James takes the other glass and studies the red wine carefully as if looking for something. He sips it and like his fellow passenger, places it on the table. The stranger smiles at James and his smile seems familiar and his dancing eyes catch the dim light in the small car they shared. Eyes that could light up a room, James thinks to himself. Like YN...

"Why are you going to Arizona?" James asks.

"Amore...To see...to meet my daughter. It was her mother's dying wish. You see...Her mother and I were not of a traditional association." The stranger smiles through his pain that is obvious by the pain in his eyes. But he seems to move through adversity well with a strong heart.

"I'm sorry," James answers. "My mother just passed..." James takes another sip of wine before continuing. "Does your daughter know you are coming?"

"No.." The stranger answers. "She has never met me. Was her mother's wish." At this point, James is starting to realize the stranger's daughter was the result of an affair. How tragic to find love only to know it is forbidden. James can relate because he knew of his own mother's wandering. James knew his mother was sad over something, but never could put his finger on it. His father passed before he ever knew and now with both parents gone, James feels an overwhelming need to protect his little sister, who was the product of a love affair that occurred outside of the marital covenant. James finishes his wine and is intrigued by the apparent coincidence between the two strangers.

"What is her name?" James asks.

"YN," the stranger whispers before gulping the last of his wine and placing the glass on the table with a look of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the Cowboys are scattered so the Earps can't track them, so they hold up at a farm about an hour's ride from Tombstone. Johnny and Curly Bill want you to be as comfortable as possible so they insist you sleep indoors while they find comfort in the barn.

"Damn, Curly..." Ringo begins. "I wish you were something soft and womanly." Curly guffaws loud enough to spook the horses.

"You can always sneak in and see that soft and womanly being," Curly yawns. "I sure would, son."

During the night, when Curly's snoring becomes unbearable, Ringo sneaks into your room where he either makes love to you softly or simply lays his head on your bosom. He cannot wait to start a life with you and he promises himself to keep you safe, warm and as comfortable as a farmer or deputy can provide.

In the morning, the farmer's wife prepares breakfast and Ringo notices how you always help. You serve Ringo and Curly before you help yourself to anything and when breakfast is over, you help clean and then assist the farmer's wife any chores. Ringo and Curly both see how hard you work and how your natural beauty doesn't fade when you have been working all day. At these moments, you remind him of his mother who always maintained her natural and delicate beauty even after she became a single mother working on a farm. He may not know it, but you are preparing yourself for living on a farm with him. He was still a strong man and Ringo was confident he could make something of a piece of land. During the day, Curly Bill and Ringo help the famer as they are both accustomed to this type of work and they want to be helpful and also show you they are not lazy, good for nothing cowboys. They are hard working men. And always return favors. So in exchange for letting them stay, the offer as much help as needed whether it is mending fences or even milking the cows. "A man can get used to this!" Curly Bill says while you walk towards them with fresh lemonade.

"Well, just in time," Curly says. Both cowboys down their lemonade quickly before tipping their hats and returning to work. In the middle of the day, you come out of the farmhouse with a basket of fresh fruit and sandwiches for everyone. "You're real lucky," Juanito," Curly Bill comments, taking a big bite of his sandwich. "She's...I guess I ain't got the words," he finishes with his mouth full. Ringo smiles and nods. "I can't believe she's real, Bill. I still wake up and wonder if the whole thing is just a dream."

"Well, it ain't!" Curly laughs, washing down his sandwich with lemonade. "She's as real as rain...Damn lucky."

You look over at the two cowboys. Curly Bill lifts his glass of lemonade and winks at you. Ringo flashes a warm and happy smile. A look of absolute peace and joy that comes from being freed of his guilt and the chains of shame that have held him down for so many years...The two men still cannot believe that you single handedly took on three men by yourself...And all without a pistol. They were fast with their pistols, but not as fast as you are with your fists. They both wondered what a force you'd be if you could shoot.

Ringo tells Curly about your father and how was an Italian performer and artist and that he and your mother had a brief and very passionate love affair and you were the fruit of their love.

"I knew she weren't no Earp!" Curly guffawed. "Hell! She don't even look like any of them!"

"I knew my father..." Ringo begins. "I spent time with him..."Ringo shakes his head. "And here I am feeling sorry for myself for losing my father and here she is, never knowing him. And she never that let get her down the way I did..."

"Well, at least we know she ain't no Earp," Curly declares while finishing off his lemonade. "I knew that.."

"I know she really wants to meet her father, but finding him may be impossible. I wish there was some way I could..."

"Well, she seems mighty fine. Hell, she's a damn hellfire! Her brothers are damn ten cent men. But she's a hellfire I reckon," Curly continued.

"Yeah..." Ringo agrees. "She sure is."

"Let's get back working, Juanito! Them fences ain't gonna mend themselves!" You return and gather the empty plates and glasses. Ringo puts his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck. Curly laughs. "Oh come on, son!"

You turn and kiss Ringo before watching the two men walk away. "Thanks for the grub, YN. They was good." Curly mentions before turning to leave. He is happier for Ringo than anyone; Curly met Ringo during the Sapleton cattle drive out of the Lazy U ranch. Ringo and Curly knew they would be destined to ride together and they did. Many rustling operations that Curly Bill was in charge of and he always asked Ringo to help plan them and Ringo did; the Cowboys spent many days and nights at the Clanton farm planning rustling enterprises.

"You're working hard, Ringo says to you."

"I'm no stranger to it. Johnny. I could get used to living like this!" Ringo appreciates your gesture because you know farming is more than likely Johnny's future as the good woman you are will support your husband even if that means you never perform again. And Johnny loves you even more because you care so much for him. He watches you walk back into the house. You emerge with a broom and start sweeping the front porch. She never stops working! He says in his mind.

James is now convinced that the foreign stranger is in fact your father and wants to tell the man that he is your brother and knows where you are.

"I think I know your daughter," James finally speaks.

The man sits up quickly. "My YN...You know my YN?"

"Yes. I am going to see her."

The stranger looks intently at James. "Meraviglioso!" The man shouts standing up to face James. "Where is she? What does she look like? She is beautiful, no? Bellisma like her mama!"

"She's my sister..." James comments. "My mother told me about the two of you when her sister died."

"Your mother told me to never come to see her. So I leave America and go back to Italy. I wondered all the time where she was...I loved your mother very much..." The stranger shakes his head. "We had a love...a perfect love. If only...I hope our daughter finds the love of her life...We both. Her mother and I felt guilty that our daughter was the fruit of forbidden love..."

"My name is James Earp." James holds his hand out for the man to shake. "Francesco Giordano." The two shakes his hands.

"I will help you locate YN. You see, she's getting married." At that news, Francesco's eyes well up with tears he begins to sob uncontrollably. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his eyes. "Dio Mio!" He cries, raising his hands into the air as if worshipping a deity.

"My beautiful daughter...Nina mio...At last, I can hold you in my arms."

James feels a sense of pity for Francesco, a man who fell in love, fathered a child and never had a chance to build a life with the woman he loves. Nicholas Earp was a hard man who was deeply conservative. James always remembered seeing his mother cry often or at least looked like she had been crying. She seemed lonely and sad as if there was something missing from her life and that something must have been very powerful...Now he knew everything and he was sitting on the same train with the man who fathered you. The train stopped and people began getting off. James waits for Francesco to gather his things. The two men walk off together.

"We need to get on the stage," James tells Francesco. "The stage leaves tomorrow morning early. "We're going to Tombstone. That is where YN is." The two men journey through the small town and find a hotel for the night. Too tired from their trip and overehelmed from recent revelations, the two fall asleep and do not wake until morning.

James wakes up before Francesco and heads to the post office which is just opening up.

"Howdy, can I help you?" The post office worker asks.

"I want to send a telegram."

"Sure, mister. Let me to where and what you gonna say."

"Dear YN. I am here in Arizona. I will be in Tombstone in a day or two. It all depends on the stage schedule. I am looking forward to seeing you. I plan on talking to Wyatt and the others and I will let them know I am here to help you and Johnny Ringo. I understand the concerns of our brothers as I have heard of the gunfighter. We can talk more when I see you. There is something you need to know...I have found your father and he is coming with me."

James returns to the hotel and sees that Francesco is dressed and ready. The older man looks different now that James can see him in the morning light. His dark hair framed a strong and handsome face with large and expressive dark eyes. In many ways, he was the most attractive man he had ever seen and he could see the resemblance between the two of you.

"The stage is late. How about breakfast?" James asks.

"Bon Giorno!" Francesco says. "Si, breakfast!" The two men go down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. There were a few people sitting at tables; they tipped their hats to the two men. The waitress came over fills their cups with coffee. "Cream or sugar?" She asks.

"Per favore!" Francesco announces with a smile. He cannot believe he is going to see you...To meet you for the first time. He hopes you do not reject him. He knows you are getting married and wants so much to be the one to walk you down the aisle and give you away to the love of your life. He imagines what you will look like while sitting with James. The two order breakfast and the waitress returns with their plates and gathers other dishes from empty tables.

CHAPTER FIVE:

Echoes of the Past

Back at Tombstone, Wyatt has received James' letter and knows his eldest brother is coming. He feels nervous and yet somewhat irritated that you contacted the older brother, who was always protecting you and even indulging you when you were little. James behaved more like a father than a brother, Wyatt recalls. James admonished his brothers several times for upsetting you; you were so different than they were. You were bursting with life while Wyatt always seemed to be frowning or confused by something.

Billy Breckenridge rides out to the farm where you are and gives you the telegram James sent you earlier. You read the telegram and drop to your knees, your hand over your open mouth. Tears are streaming down your face when you fold in the paper in half. Ringo's eyes grow wide with concern.

"What's wrong, YN?" You hand him the letter and Ringo reads it. He too is quite shocked and so pleased and he hopes you are excited about meeting your father. Ringo has mixed emotions. He is happy you are going to meet your father. He is also concerned that your father won't approve of your relationship when he finds out you are engaged to Johnny Ringo, cattle rustler, thief, stage coach robber and killer. Or he may learn that Ringo is nothing more than a lowly cowboy who never amounted to anything in his life. The darkness Ringo thought was leaving his soul was slowly creeping back into his heart. His eyes fall to the ground and he lifts you up, his heart sinking at the thought of your father admonishing you because of your choice of men. He is dreading another episode similar to the one he had with Wyatt. Ringo has seen what happens to people when they try to get between the two of you; you clearly love him. But he can't help but think James is bringing your father with him to convince you to return to California. Ringo helps you up and when you look into his eyes, you notice a wetness around them that is not sweat. You heart falls and you wrap your arms around him. He feels selfish for caring about his own feelings when here you are, learning that you are going to meet your father and how you must have dreamed of this time your entire life. And here he is taking it away from you like a damn bastard he knows he is.

"Johnny! Can you believe it?! My father is coming to meet us!" At that moment, Ringo feels less nervous; that fact that you want your father to meet you and the man you love is reassuring to the cowboy who never wants to lose you...

He picks you up and holds you close. "I don't know what to do!" You say with a smile on your face. "I don't even know what he looks like now. I have just seen a few pictures from theater programs your mother collected. You know from those pictures that your father was a very handsome man with large dark eyes and black hair that hung to his shoulders. You thought he looked like a Greek God and you always wanted to know him and know where you come from.

"Johnny! You think he'll be pleased to meet me? I mean after all these years?"

"He's coming to meet you, isn't he?" Ringo brushes his mustache with his hand. "You think he'll try to convince you to go with him back home?" It was Ringo's way of asking the obvious; what if your father does not approve of your love?

"No, Johnny! I am not going anywhere where I cannot be with you!" You kiss him and hold him tight.

"Hey Juanito?" Curly Bill shouts. "You comin'?"

"Yeah, hold your horses, Curly!"

"Go, Johnny. Curly Bill needs your help mending the fence on the other side of the stables. I'm going to clean the stables out after the dishes are done and the eggs are collected."

"You sure this is your first time on a farm? You seem to really know your way around!" Your kindness and ability to brighten the darkness of his mind never seizes to amaze and delight him.

"I just can't believe it!" You whisper as you take the plates and glasses back inside.

Ringo joins Curly Bill who is busy hammering nails into the fence post. He had taken his red shirt off and was sweating, looking forward to the bath he was planning on taking at the end of the day. A large pond was located a few minutes walk from the farm and the water was clear and clean. Curly Bill preferred bathing in a lake or pond as he always considered himself to be a natural man. Ringo took baths in the pond too because he was trying to avoid going into town because of the Earps. Although after what you did, he would be bombarded with questions since Ike Clanton shot his big mouth off and told people in town that Ringo's girl knocked out the Earp brothers and was reached by the Cowboys. Ike was there when they saved you at your house and couldn't stop talking about it even though Ringo asked him not too.

"What happened, Johnny?" Curly Bill asks.

"YN's brother James is on his way here."

"Well that's all fine. Is he like the others? Thinkin' they can own her like their damn property. Ain't she been through enough with her damn brothers?"

"She wants him here..she said he protects her."

"He ain't got not odd feelings for her like old Wyatt?" Curly says as he takes his hat off and wipes his brow.

"I don't think so...YN says he's got his head about him. He found her father. They're both coming. Ringo takes his hat off and old Curly understands why Ringo is so worried. To meet another brother and your father would be tough for any man in Ringo's position. Curly has sympathy for Ringo.

"Juanito," Curly begins. "I ain't never been no good with words and such. I ain't got the right words. "Johnny... Ain't you see what happens when anyone tries to get between you two? She already showed you and well all of us she is a fighter. Hell! She took on two Earps and Holliday all by herself. She ain't no wallflower! She knows what she wants not like most women who don't know what they want or they ain't got no opinion on nothin. YN knows and she ain't gonna take nothing from no one. Hell! All is boys should be that lucky."

"Yeah I really love her..." Ringo sighs.

"Of course you do!" Curly Bill answers. "Hell iffin' she didn't belong to you, I'd be putting on the charm. And I ain't shamed to say that. She's real special and real sweet. But then she ain't no tenderfoot neither! She's everything I'd want my woman to be!" Curly Bill shouts. "Hell, I'd do anything for YN if she were mine so i can't say I blame you for risking everything! I'd do the same iffin' I ever got as lucky as you, Johnny!"

James and Francesco mount the stage and the driver shouts, "gyddiap! Let's go team. We got a damn schedule to maintain!"

"How much longer? So you know where she is? Who is this Johnny Ringo? Is he Italian?"

James doesn't want to be the one to tell your father that the love of your life is a good for nothing cowboy. But he understands your spirit and how unbreakable you have always seemed to be. You were always outspoken and strong. But also, your singing voice could bring the devil to his knees. Not just your voice, but the passion in which you delivered. Surely this Johnny Ringo will understand your family's concern for you. Nicholas Earp passed a few years after his wife and James sometimes wondered if his father ever knew that the beautiful daughter he raised was the fruit of a love his wife shard with another man.

"Well, I guess I should let your daughter tell you. We are almost there."

Johnny watches you as you nervously make yourself ready; the farmer's wife helping you get dressed and offering to brush your hair. Ringo looked on with delight and anxiety; he's so elated that you are going to meet you father, but still fear he won't accept him and will try to convince you to leave like everybody else. And to think you would have to choose between him and your father...If you choose him, you may never see your father again and you have waited all this time to meet him and because of him - Johnny Ringo, outlaw, you may lose your father because of him...Or he will lose you because you choose your father. Johnny is so conflicted and anxious, he can hardly focus and he desperately wants to be strong for you especially if your father rejects you...And would it because of me...Johnny thinks.

The stage coach stops in front of the Grand Hotel and James notices how busy Tombstone is; people moving up and down the street; gentleman dressed in new suits and smoking cigars, ladies wearing the latest fashions, people moving about going to the library or the museum, having coffee or ice cream at the dessert parlor which also serves freshly baked cakes, residents playing at the bowling alley or playing their luck at the many casinos in Tombstone. Voices and music from the saloons mixed together and to James, it sounded like a broken accordion. He desperately wants to find a hotel of someplace to spend the night so he can find you as soon as he can and bring your father to you. James wants to size up Ringo and see if he is as bad as his brothers say he is. It is clear from your previous letters that you really care for Johnny and that he cares for you.

James walks into the Grand Hotel and registers for a room.

"Do you know YN?" James asks the hotel clerk.

"Oh yes. Everyone round here knows about her. Rumor going around is that she is so in love with Johnny Ringo, a deadly pistoleer and that she took on two Earp brothers and Holliday. Knocked them cold out! All for Johnny Ringo. Well, folks say they never heard anything like it. Curly Bill was bragging on about Ringo's lady and that if knew how to shoot, everybody would need to watch out!"

James nods and takes the key from the hotel clerk and the two men head upstrairs.

"When, James," Francesco begs. "When do we find her?"

"Let's get settled and then we'll ask around where we can find her." James lets out a big sigh. He has always known that you were a spirited woman. Even as a child you had a light and a fire inside of you so powerful, even Wyatt's cold stare could not extinguish it. But to know you have taken up with Johnny Ringo has your brother's head spinning. He is uncertain on how to tell your father. He has heard of Ringo and that his propensity towards violence is undeniable. He rode with Frank and Jesse James along with the Youngers robbing stage coaches and trains. Ringo also rode with Bloody Bill Anderson and Charlie Quantrill and they were guerillas hunting Yankees in Missouri. Ringo was also involved with the Hoodoo war and along with Quantrill and the James gang, killed over one thousand Jayhawkers in a few days time. Seasoned guerilla raiders carried at least three pistols with them and when there was ten or more of them, could fire off sixty to seventy shots in a matter a few minutes. These men were fast enough with their pistols that they could easily switch from two guns and then to one. Ringo was also known for being morose and dark and once shot a man for refusing to let the gunfighter buy him a drink. And now he's a homeless drifter who rides with Curly Bill Brocious and the Clanton gang known as The Cowboys.

"Por favore! I cannot stand this any longer, Senor James. I want to meet my nina.."

James nods and the two men leave and head downstairs. It is nearly lunchtime and the hotel staff is being preparing for customers.

Deputy Breckenridge enters the hotel while James and Francesco are leaving. James notices the deputy's badge and stops him.

"Deputy, my name is James Earp." Breckenridge looks the tall man up and down and can see the resemblance of his brothers.

"Nice to meet you," Billy answers and the two shake hands.

"This is Francesco Giardano."

"Pleasure," Francesco answers, holding his hand out.

"I'll get right to it. I am here to see her. I met her father on the train here. I need to see her and..."

"I know where she is staying. I'll get a wagon for us with a driver."

"No need. I can drive the wagon," James answers.

"Your sister is lovely. Everyone in town thinks so. She is quite the fighter. I think it's wonderful...Fighting for the love of your life!" The deputy declares.

"Is that what happened?" James asks. "Ringo or his pals didn't put her up to anything?"

"Oh hello no! Not Ringo or Curly Bill! Ringo is real touchy when it comes to women."

"Oh?" James inquires.

"Yeah, the only true gentleman around here. Doesn't even let a woman open a door when he's around. Protective too. He saved your sister...From what the Clanton's are saying, it was quite the rescue. YN was a damsel in distress and Ringo came to her rescue. Along with the other cowboys. They fight together. You hit one of them, you hit all of them. The Cowboy way, Curly says."

"Sounds like YN and Johnny Ringo really care about each other," James says and takes a long sigh.

"Who is this my my nina wants to marry?" Francesco asks. "Does she know I am coming?"

"Yes," James answered. Billy approached the farm where you were staying. Ringo feels nervous and apprehensive and he can feel his heart beating in his chest. He's meeting your brother who happens to be another Earp and your father. Meeting the approval of both men seemed an insurmountable task. Billy pulled the wagon all the way the house where you were inside preparing dinner. Curly Bill runs over to meet your brother and father.

"Well, howdy boys!" Curly says in his loud voice. James and Francesco get off the wagon and your father approaches Curly.

Francesco takes Curly by the shoulders and kisses him on each cheek, an Italian custom which overwhelms Curly Bill, but he guffaws and shakes Francesco's hand. Curly already likes the man who seems genuine and sincere and like James, Curly has never seen a more attractive man.

"I'm James Earp, Curly Bill. Thank you for your intervention. I hear you were involved in rescuing her." James looks at the ground. Much time has passed since James has seen you and a feeling of guilt seeps into his heart. Your wild passion could never be contained.

Curly Bill removes his hat places it on is heart and bows his head. "Well, wouldn't have been any other way. Come inside!"

The men walk into the quaint and quite large farmhouse. At the right of the front door stood a long staircase that led up to four large bedrooms. A sitting room was situated on the left on the staircase. A couch sat lazily against the wall and next to each arm was a small table with vases filled with freshly picked flowers. A coffee table lazed in front of the couch and another vase with florals relaxed on it. A gentle breeze blew the sheer curtains that draped around the windows.

"Well, come in." Curly Bill gestures for the men to put their bags down. Curly guides them to the kitchen where you are preparing a meal with the wife of the farmer, a homey looking lady with wide hips and long hair that she always keeps in a hairnet. She is quiet and appreciative; ever since a few of The Cowboys came to stay with her and her husband, they have not had to worry about thieves taking their animals or Apaches intimidating them. It gives Ringo and Curly great pride to know that they are reciprocating the generosity the kindness of the famers.

You turn and see your brother and your father. You turn to hug the wife and she kisses your head before leaving to check on her husband who is outside.

"Mio Dio! Mio Nina!" Francesco stands in shock and the two of you stare at each other as if you are seeing something no one else can see. You walk to your father and the two of you embrace. Francesco begins speaking in Italian, with tears streaming down his eyes. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks and then embraces you again. James and Curly stand watching, they both remove their hats; Curly Bill finds himself choked up for a moment. What a sweet occurrence to witness. You and your father continue to hug. James beings to weep in silence and Curly Bill is deeply moved in spite of himself.

"Bellissima.....Nina. Y/N. Like your mother! My love..." Francesco finally lets go of his embrace. "Where is the man you love? I must meet him!"

James moves towards you and you hug your brother so tight, tears begin streaming down his eyes. "I have missed you, James!" You whisper. "How did you find my father?"

James wipes his tears and at this point, Curly can feel tears welling in his own eyes. He firmly believes that you deserve such a wonderful reunion especially after your fought so hard to prove your love for Johnny Ringo.

"Quite by accident."

"Where is he?" James asks, eager to meet Johnny Ringo, outlaw, thief, rustler, member of Quantrill's raiders and killed Yankees with Bloody Bill Anderson.

You run upstairs and burst through the door where Johnny is waiting. His heart is beating in his throat and his hands are shaking. You embrace your cowboy and the two of you exchange a passionate kiss. You hold him and can feel him trembling. He's weak and apprehensive. He knows the stories circulating about him and in deeply concerned your dinner conversation will revolve around him being forced to answer questions about his crimes. He takes a deep breath and holds your hand. You lead him downstairs.

Your cowboy stands before your brother and your father, he can feel sweat forming on his head and his hands become cold.

"James, Daddy...This is the man I love. This is Johnny Ringo."

Francesco moves toward Ringo and just like when he met Curly, he holds Ringo's shoulders and kisses him on each cheek and then hugs Johnny who hugs your father back. "Bel Monto Bel!" Your father touches Ringo's face. Ringo already likes your father and his free spirit...Just like you.

Ringo understands what your father is saying as he learned some Latin in the few semesters of medical school that he attended. He thinks I am handsome. Which is quite the compliment since your father is unbelievably attractive. His dark eyes are soft and welcoming and his black hair is to his shoulders and is pulled back in a ponytail like fashion. He stands barely two inches taller than Ringo.

"Piacere di conoscerti, Senor Johnny Ringo!" You father says. "Meraviglioso! Wonderful! Wonderful!" You father hugs you again and this time picks you up and holds you so tight you can't help but start laughing and weeping at the same time and your father joins you in your powerful emotion over your reunion. Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo can feel their chest grow tight and they cannot help, but begin to cry a bit too. Curly Bill is happy for Ringo; for as long as he known Johnny, he was always sad and morose and never seemed satisfied. Sometimes Johnny would simply gaze onward as if looking at something or reflecting on his life. Sometimes the cowboy would smile and others times, he would lower his head and let out a long sigh. Curly could usually bring Ringo out of that dark place with his stories and practical jokes, but there were other times where nothing seemed to bring Johnny out of that darkness. Until he met you, now Curly sees his friend in ways he has never seen before; a warm and genuine smile that suggests he is truly happy and has finally found what he so desperately wanted his entire life. Curly Bill had to admit he was at times envious of his best friend; having a beautiful woman who loves you and wants to be with you regardless of your past is a true treasure for any man. Curly figured he would probably retire in Mexico at one of the ranches he frequents when selling stolen stock he rustled from Texas. Some of these areas had rancheros with one or two daughters that were not married off yet. Their fathers let old Curly know he is welcome to marry one of them and settle down on the ranch. And that was better than retiring alone...But none of these rancher's daughters looked anything like you!

"Well! This calls for a celebration!" Curly Bill announces with his hands in the air as if cheering for a winning team. "It just so happens deputy Breckenridge and old Fred White brought over some champagne earlier today. Sayin' it's the best damn champagne the Oriental has to offer. Took two of them boys to pay for these few bottles so we can have ourselves a fine time together!" Curly opens the first bottle. "Cheers to you!" He shouts while the foam falls around the sides. He pours the liquor into the glasses provided.

"Salud!" Your father cheers while holding up his glass and looking towards you and Ringo. Your father puts his glass down and starts clapping his hands in rhythm and beings to sing, "Bacio! Bacio!"

Curly Bill guffaws loudly at your father's energy. He can understand your wild spirit and energy now that he has seen who your father is. You have embraced the Italian energy thankfully and did not inherit the demeanor of the Earps. Curly wonders if Wyatt, Virgil or Morgan will be at your wedding! He chuckles at the thought of the Earps and the Cowboys attending your wedding. Seeing Wyatt seething with anger and jealousy would be something Curly does not want to miss.

Francesco continues to dance and sing traditional Italian folk songs while he takes you in his arms and dances around the kitchen. You're laughing and crying and Ringo can't help but laugh too. He can't stop giggling watching you with your father. Francesco finishes his champagne and motions for more. He doesn't sip it slowly, he finishes his second glass and Curly chuckles and pours him another.

"What are you preparing, my nina?" Francesco asks moving through the kitchen.

"One of the markets here has fresh basil so I am preparing caprese for us with fresh bread and formaggio! And of course, red wine."

Francesco kisses his hand and waves it through the air. "Ahhh...Caprese! Belissmo! Tomorrow we go out!"

Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo are so delighted by your father and he has been so bombastic, James seems to be in the background watching with Ringo, who doesn't know what to say and is just happy watching you and your father.

James asks what he can do to help and you ask him to please set the table for dinner. James and Francesco set the table, Francesco is singing and dancing while laying the plates down.

"Questo è bellissimo!" Francesco sings as he puts the last plate on the table. He moves to Ringo and hugs him again. "It is you that put that smile on my nina's face, no?"

"AMORE!" Francesco begins to sing again. "That's amore!"

Quando le stelle ti fanno sbavare come la pasta e fagioli

Questo è amore

Quando danzi giù per la strada con una nuvola ai tuoi piedi

Sei innamorato

Quando ti immergi in un sogno, ma sai che non stai sognando il Signore,

Scusami, ma lo vedi, indietro nella vecchia Napoli

Questo è amore

Oh fortunato!"

The farmer and his wife come down from upstairs and join in the festivities. "Oh how wonderful this is," the woman announces, putting an arm around you. You have been so helpful to me. All you boys. Will the others be joining us?" James looks at you and you shake your head. "No, they are back at camp. They wanted to give us some privacy, but I am sure they'll be celebrating with us soon." Ringo wonders if you'll let his red sash gang attend your wedding. He knows how sweet you are and is confident you will allow his boys on your special day. Knowing how your father is, he seems like he would want more people to celebrate with. Francesco hasn't stopped smiling, laughing, drinking and dancing since he walked in the door. Curly Bill and Ringo have never met anyone like your father, but in all fairness, they have never met anyone like you either. They know your father was a performer and loves an audience, but is also full of life and love and like the Cowboys, loves to celebrate and embrace the moment!

You all sit down to dinner and James lowers his head and says a prayer. Francesco lifts his glass and announces, "mangiamo!" While you all enjoy your meal together, Curly Bill tells your father the story of how they rescued you. James feels slightly uncomfortable how Curly is talking about his brothers, but is grateful for the Cowboys since you were rendered helpless by Wyatt's deputies. With you bound to a beam in the house, there was nothing you could do and James wondered what Wyatt would have done to you if given the opportunity. But then Curly shot both deputies and when they entered the house, they could not believe what you did to James' brothers.

"I thought you coming to Arizona was a mistake, YN. But I can see that you are happy." James looks down at his half eaten dinner. Francesco has been dominating the time so James has not had a chance to really talk about his feelings regarding everything.

"I know how Wyatt has treated you over the years," James says, clearing his throat. "And...I'm sorry. But I...They are my brothers and.."

At this point, you begin to feel a sense of defeat and you are waiting for your brother to tell you he is not going to give you his blessing and you begin to grow weak with anticipation over what he is going to say next.

"I always knew you were a hellfire, YN." He shakes his head again. "But three of them...Jesus."

"She was in danger," Curly Bill remarks. "All she wanted was to talk to Johnny. They didn't want her talkin' to anyone cept Breckenridge and Fred White. They didn't want her havin' anyone. Maybe a few ladies."

James nodded. "I know how Wyatt is...He has always had odd feelings towards YN."

Francesco interrupts after taking a bite of food and sipping his wine.

"They love each other, no?" He asks. He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth with it and pushes his plate forward and away from him. "Amore proibito," he utters. "I could not be with mi amore...When there is amore, you must preserve and persevere. You must!"

"I know they are in love, Francesco. There is major tension between these two factions. I just don't want to see anymore fighting. I am not sure it is a good idea for you two to stay in Arizona or anywhere our brothers are."

"What are you saying?" You insist, your heart beating fast. Ringo sits in silence and is deeply concerned for you. He also understands your brother and the thought of you losing the one family member you really love because of him was too much for Ringo to take. His guilt, shame and sadness begins to stir inside of him again and he can't stand the thought of anything happening to you.

James sighs and pushes his plate away. "I want you to be happy, YN. I also want peace in the family. With mom and dad..." James looks at Francesco and continues. "You have..." James takes a small handkerchief from his front shirt pocket and wipes his tears. He can't stand the thought of you losing the love of your life and he also knows what could happen if Johnny Ringo becomes a member of the Earp family. Not just for the integrity of the family name, but the gossip that would flood the southwest could prove disastrous for Wyatt's political aspirations.

"You have my blessing," James sobs through the words. "But please leave Arizona, YN, Johnny...Please. I plan on meeting with Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan."

"No!" Francesco interrupts. "Mio Dio! Nina lives where she like!"

"Francesco, please...This is about our family. Our brothers. You wouldn't understand."

"CAPISCO!" Francesco stand up and looks at James, tears forming in his dark eyes. "Più di voi...I know more than you!" Francesco shakes an angry fist at James and Ringo and Curly Bill are intrigued by your father's courageous disposition.

"Nina...Signore Ringo..." Francesco stands and lifts his glass of red wine to the two of you. "You have my blessing and you can come and live with me in New York. I have a casa there. Please, nina. Come and live with me with the man you love..." Francesco lifts his glass to Ringo who is beyond grateful of your father's approval of him. "Or I buy you a house here or anywhere you want to live! ho molti soldi! Money does not matter. I will take care of you and Giovanni!" You look at Ringo and then at your father. Tears are beginning to flow from your lovely eyes. You nod and look at Johnny for support.

"I have always wanted to see New York," Ringo says with a half smile on his face. You know how conflicted he is; he loves you and wants to be with you and he also wants the reassurance that you support his bond with his gang..They are like brothers to him and they have been through just about every kind of hell there is. To leave everything behind and start a new life is something Ringo has always dreamed about...But how he would miss his friends although they make him crazy at times with their intellectual ineptness and stench that could would make a skunk jealous. At the same time, Ringo has tremendous desire for you to know your father. Ringo knew his father..He lost him but at least he knew him and had time with him when he was growing up. You, however went through life thinking the man who raised you was your father when in fact he was not...You were the fruit of two people who's love was so strong, they created a beautiful child from their love and you were like a secret...A shameful secret. You embodied what Ringo was so fearful of; shame and guilt. But he has seen how you have overcome all of that with a happy heart and a hellfire spirit...You are clearly a woman who can take care of herself and at the same time, you truly appreciate a chivalrous man and when you are in need of rescue, you relinquish and let him be a man and save you. You know how to make a man feel like a man...And that is something Curly Bill has noticed about you. You are clearly a strong and athletic woman. When you need a man, you embrace his chivalry, let him slay the dragon (although you could probably do all that by yourself) and carry you to a secluded place where he can devote his love and drive you to euphoria.

"Venire! Venire!" Francesco announces. "Mi casa is big enough for you! YN can perform at the theater if she so desires!"

You and Ringo share a glance. He can see you are as conflicted as he is. And Ringo knows you care about him and his relationship with his cowboys. You don't want to take him away from that and Ringo is so unbelievably grateful you care that much about a bunch a dirty cowboys who have spent more time sleeping in tents than in houses.

"Well, hell!" Curly Bill announces. "Now we Cowboys got a reason to visit New York!" Ringo begins laughing out loud in spite of himself. Francesco gets up out of his chair and motions for Johnny to stand up and when he does, Francesco hugs him again, kissing each cheek. "Butteros in New York!" Francesco begins to sing in Italian and his mood is so light and delightfully refreshing, Curly Bill can't help but stand as well and begin dancing with Francesco. The two men begin laughing and Curly's loud guffawing mixed with Francesco's singing breaks the silence and even James finds himself chuckling. He never knew your real father and now that he has seen how your father is, he can understand your wild and free spirit. A spirit that cannot be contained by anything and a heart that can withstand such pain, it is awe inspiring and it is at this moment James knows he must give his genuine blessing and allow you to be the woman you are because like your father no one is going to hold your energy hostage.

"Amore!" Francesco sings again. "Salud! Salud!" He continues to sing and you get up from your chair and he hugs you tights, spinning you around in a wonderful father daughter duet of a very special love.

"May I," Curly Bill asks, taking you away from your father. The cowboy chuckles and starts to dance with you. "You don't mind if I dance with your beautiful lady, do you, Juanito? It ain't everyday I can do this with such a lovely lady. You hug Curly Bill who you regard as one of your heroes and he enjoys holding you and feels envy once again, but that envy is dominated by his overwhelming happiness for Ringo.

You look up at Curly Bill and he smiles at you. "My, my...Ringo sure is lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Curly. I'm lucky to have him too!" Curly hugs you close and kisses your head. He regards you as a special woman and one worth fighting for. He would live anywhere just to be with you.

"Gosh, I am tired!" James declares as he sits back down. He removes a handkerchief from his front pocket and wipes the sweat from his forehead. "Can't remember the last time I danced!"

Francesco who seems to have an endless amount of energy begins to clap his hands again.

"Comma dei fari pì amà sta donni?

Di rose dee fare nu bellu ciardini

nu bellu ciardini

ntorni p'intorni lei annammurari!"

Curly Bill begins clapping his hands in sync with your father and is tempted to ask the older gentleman if he would like to come to the cowboy camp and continue their party. James sits at the table and you pour him another glass of red wine which he sips slowly. Ringo takes you in his arms and starts dancing with you. You throw your shoes off and stand on top of Ringo's feet and he holds you close against his chest, thinking what you are doing is wildly adorable and fun. Your father looks over and continues to sing, his voice unbelievably bold and full of vibrato.

Ringo looks into your large and liquid eyes. "This is is a dream. I am afraid if you pinch me, I may startle awake and you'll be..." Ringo kisses your head and you hold his face in your hands and kiss him on the nose. "It's not a dream, Johnny...This is really happening. And I can't wait to be alone with you." You hold each other close and being to dance slowly in the middle of the kitchen. The two of you become so lost in the exploration of each other and your rare and perfect love that you do not notice that everyone has stopped and stand with their eyes on the two of you, inspired by your devotion to each other. At that moment, your father begins to weep softly.

"It's late," James announces. "Please don't let me stop you. I am staying at the hotel in town with Francesco."

Francesco nods. "Tomorrow, we celebrate again!"

Francesco hold you close and kisses your head while brushing the hair away from your face.

"Dormi bene!" He says to you before following James and Curly outside.

"Where do you sleep?" Francesco asks the cowboys.

Too ashamed to answer, Ringo simply lowers his head. Curly Bill speaks up. "Well, it all depends really. Cowboys move around quite a bit and some us boys ain't got a homestead. There just ain't no need lessen we settle down like Ringo here."

"I have a small house just outside of town. I saved up for it. Johnny has done some work in the yard for me. It's looking real nice. But I plan on selling it if we were to move." "All this we discuss another day! No matter where you live as long as you follow your heart to your dreams!" Your father announces. "I live in hotels when I performed as a young man. Sometimes they say, they don't want Italians in their shows and sometimes I had no money." He lowers his head. "I missed so much, YN. I will always help you and Giovanni."

"Who?" Curly Bill asks, not knowing that Giovanni is Italian for Johnny.

"Johnny! Giovanni My new son!"

Too moved to say anything, Ringo almost falls to his knees. He cannot believe how accepting your father is and how he truly sees how much Ringo loves you. Francesco and James leave and head back to the hotel. Both men are exhausted. Francesco sings to himself as he gets undressed and gets into bed. Next door, James looks at his pocket watch and then gets undressed, yawns and is asleep soon after his head hits the pillow.

Back at the house, you and Ringo hold each other. Curly chuckles and heads to the barn so you and Ringo can be alone.

When no one is around, you and Ringo fall into a passionate kiss. He lifts your leg and begins rubbing your thigh with his strong hand while you envelop him with your kisses. You run your hands through his hair while you stay locked in a union of pure love. You both breathe heavily and Ringo picks you up and carries you upstairs, eager to make love to you. He places you on the bed and gets on top of you, your soft and strong body writhing under his strength. He wants to hold you still and just kiss you so you acquiesce and stay motionless while Ringo unlaces your top. He slowly undresses you, savoring your beauty with each stroke of his fingers. You lay your head back and sigh while Ringo continues to explore your trembling body. He kisses you and lets his hands discover your erogenous zones and caress until you can no longer stand it and you wrap your legs around him and hold him tight. Ringo chuckles at your euphoria and your vulnerability; a sensuality flows from from your body like the sweat that gathers on your chest. Ringo caresses your thighs and moves his hand between your legs and into the garden of delight that has him so intrigued and fascinated, he can't help but start rubbing your flower until he drives you to ectasy. You wish to return the wonder he just gave to you, but your body lies weak, your thighs shaking. Johnny whispers, "shh.I can do that again." He then tickles your precious and causes you to delight in his manliness. All he wants to do is give you pleasure and your love and passion break through you so the rhapsody of wonder continues to flood your body.

Ringo's skill with a woman's body came from his days as a younger man when he asked a Mexican ramera to show him how to drive her to elation and she taught him and taught him well...Johnny kisses your stomach and chest, his mustache caressing you gently. He holds you close and you fall into a deep sleep together.

CHAPTER SIX

Passion on the Prairie

James wakes early and heads down to the hotel for breakfast. While sipping his coffee, he reflects on how the conversation will go with his brothers. He agreed to meet with them today to discuss the unconventional relationship their sister is having with Johnny Ringo. James rests his chin on this hands, his elbows resting on the table. He lets out a sigh and heads to The Oriental where Wyatt is counting receipts and going over the books with Morgan. Virgil enters the room. "Where is he?" The oldest brother grunts. He takes a seat and puts his hat on the table.

"It's been a while since we've seen James," Morgan interjects. "Damn that we have to see him over this." Morgan touches his head; a bump still lays on his skull from when you bashed him in the head with the vase. He looks to the ground. "She probably belongs with a son of a bitch like Ringo Wyatt looks over at Morgan and slowly lights a cigar. "He's here," Wyatt groans, his cigar between his teeth.

Virgil rises along with the other two and they shake hands with their brother. James takes his hat off and holds it in his hands while standing in the doorway. He nods before speaking. "I know that you wanted me to come here to convince YN to return to California." He stands with his hands on his hips. James clears his throat and moves past his brothers and takes a seat. Wyatt nods quickly and pushes his paperwork away.

"James. You don't know anything about this Ringo fellow!" Wyatt takes a puff of his cigar. "He's a damn killer. A thief and a rustler. He's the quiet type that is like a stick of damn dynamite. He can lose his cool quickly. I've been dealing with types like Ringo before my days in Kansas. He's no good, James. He's no good. He's trash and all he'll do is harm YN." James looks towards the door and then back at Wyatt. "What the hell went down, Wyatt?"

Wyatt looks over at Morgan and Virgil, both stand with their arms folded. Their wounds ran deep especially since you took all of them on by yourself. Wyatt begins speaking. "YN got here and her and Ringo began spending some times together. I'm guessing that damn gunfighter thought he could court her. And she let him. She's always been reckless and passionate. Never had mature choices in men anyway." Wyatt clears his throat, takes a puff on his cigar and continues. "Doc saw them together and tried to warn her, but she wasn't having any of it. She made a scene in public, James!" Wyatt sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. "She slapped me in public! That scene she made. So like YN to act like that. She's not going to ruin my chances at becoming deputy US marshal. And especially not that damn Johnny Ringo! I won't have it, James!"

James nods methodically. "How about a drink, Wyatt?" James finally says. Hearing the story of you causing a scene in public is troubling to James, but after meeting your father, he understands where your passion comes from. "I don't drink anymore. Not whiskey anyway," Wyatt grunts, reflecting for a moment on his own shady past.

"A beer for your older brother, Wyatt? I am deeply concerned about you and YN. All of you!"

Wyatt moves towards the bar and pours two beers, taking them to the table. Both men sip their beer for a few moments. "Cigar?" Wyatt asks. James shakes his head. "Go on, Wyatt," James continues.

"After the scene she made, her and Ringo tried to go off together. We arrested that trashy gunfighter and brought YN back to her house to keep her restrained until we could get her on the train back to California." James leans in, listening intently. "Doc was there to see to it she didn't escape and No Neck Ned was put in charge on watching Ringo. Ringo, that bastard!" Wyatt takes a breath to regain control over himself. "Curly Bill and some of his brainless cowboys got Ringo out and then went to YN's. Morgan and Virgil got here before me and Yankee Jay and one other deputy. She viciously attacked Morgan, Doc and Virg. She was like a wild animal. A wild vicious animal like Ringo!" Wyatt pounded his fist against the table. His sudden burst of passion demonstrated the fact that you come from a family of deeply passionate people and Wyatt had his fair share of criminal activity. His own father broke him out of jail for horse thieving.

"Knocked me to the ground along with Holliday and Virgil!" Morgan interjects. "Wyatt's right, James. She's like a damn hellfire. She had no right to attack us like that. You weren't here and I swear she had a demon in her!"

"She told me Doc tied her to a chair and then told her Ringo ran off with a whore. Is that true?" James ponders.

"Doc was supposed to keep her tied to the chair so we could escort her properly to the depot." "Why was she tied to the chair?" James asks.

"We told you she's an animal. We weren't taking any chances and look what happened with she got loose? She could have killed Doc. He's still limping around."

"Wyatt, have you talked to her since?" James asks, knowing the answer is probably no. Wyatt shakes his head. "I should have slapped her right there in the street when I had the chance!" Wyatt shouts much to the surprise of his brothers. "Slapped some sense into her!"

"Wyatt!" James intervenes. "She told me she loves Johnny Ringo and they plan on getting married. I have already given her my blessing.

"You what?" Morgan bursts. "You know what this means? You think we're going to share our family name or anything with that devil in black, Johnny Ringo!" James puts his head down in frustration.

"There's more." James says, is voice just above a whisper. "I found YN's father. He's here."

"You think you could have told us, James?" Wyatt snaps. "You think I want to meet the man who got our mother pregnant with that stain you call a sister!"

James, too shocked to speak, stares at Wyatt and can understand why you became to enraged when he tried to keep you away from Ringo. James knew Wyatt's tendencies towards self righteousness and his high and mighty attitude that he could force anyone to do anything and he would punish those who got in his way. That was one of the reasons Wyatt made a good law man. He would never stop pursuing those with whom he had a warrant for. He and his brothers would hunt Cowboys for the rest of their lives until every law breaker in the territory is either jailed or hanged. Wyatt's coldness expressed itself through his relationship with Mattie; Wyatt ignored her while he went off with Josephine.

"Wyatt, stop! She's our sister!"

"She's not related to us," Virgil interupts. "It's like Wyatt said, she's the fruit of an affair our mother had when Pa was away. Our mother strayed with some show pony from Europe. Why the hell do we care who he is?" Virgil still stands with his arms folded, his expression had not changed since he entered the room.

"Our mother was seduced by this man and he knew she was married. He had a child with her and left?"

"What our mother did shouldn't concern us now," James bleats. "She's gone. Pa is gone. We still have each other. And like it or not, YN is at the very least, your half sister." "A half breed," Morgan grunts. "I don't want to see her again."

"Then why do you care who she marries?" James argues.

"It's a matter of pride for us, James. You should have more respect for our father. Our mother had no right to go off with that dirt actor," Morgan continues. "She's no longer anything to me. She's just a half breed whore who wants to give herself to one of the most dangerous men in the country!" Wyatt leans forward in his chair, his cigar wedged between his teeth. "I think we're done here, James. You tell YN she is no longer welcome. She is to stay away from Warren and Martha too. They don't need her bringing that trash Ringo around them. Son of a bitch."

"Wyatt? Shouldn't you let Martha decide if she wants YN in her life?"

Wyatt grunts, focusing on his receipts. "It's a family thing, James. Go ahead, give her your blessing. I've got unfinished business with Ringo and if I see that European, I just might have to kill the stupid bastard."

James gets up and quickly leaves, knowing the conversation went as well as expected. Wyatt did not favor anyone who did not agree with his beliefs and the only person he trusted without limits was Doc Holliday, also known as a vicious killer. James wanted to bring that point up to Wyatt, but there seemed to be no point in trying to convince his brothers of anything. The three of them were always close and Morgan and Doc were good friends. Not as close as Wyatt was with Doc, but enough to the point that Doc could easily influence Morgan. James heads to the hotel, feeling defeated. He loves you and has always regarded you as a special woman even though he knew where you came from. James never held it against you that your existence stemmed from an affair his mother had. That was no fault of yours; you came into the world not knowing your own father and you confided in James that you were heartbroken when you learned that Nicholas was not your real father. You had to deal with the fact that you were a mark on the family, the loss of both parents and the fact that you may never know your true father. Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan never seemed to understand that and Wyatt always had an odd attraction to you. As a young girl, Wyatt engaged in several fights with men who tried to court you. He would not let you out of his sight and sometimes James would notice they way Wyatt looked at you; with lust in his eyes.

Tombstone was becoming a dangerous place now and James knows that although Francesco is passionate about you making your own decisions, if you stay in Tombstone, there will be nothing but conflict. And James knew Wyatt wasn't joking about killing your father.

James sadly returns to the farm to tell you about his meeting with your brothers. He decides to wait to talk with you. You just met your father and have already endured so much he cannot bear to hurt you with the news that your own family is rejecting you. He decides to stay in town and returns to the hotel. When he sees your father, a tightness forms in his chest. He would hate to see this gentle man murdered by Wyatt because he had an affair with your mother.

The following morning, Francesco wakes early and heads to the post office. The postal worker stood up and tipped his hat. "Well, good morning, stranger. You new in town?" Francesco takes his beret off and asks if he can send a telegram to New York.

"Well, sure. I can do that for you. Just let me know what you want to say!"

Francesco recited his message: To Daphne, my beautiful nipote. Your uncle Francesco has found your cousin, YN. I am here in a place called Tombstone and it is in Arizona. She is getting married and wants to come to live with us. We are staying here a little longer. Te Amo, nipote, Daphne. You can come to this place or we see you in New York soon. Few weeks maybe. Not so sure...

Francesco sighed and nodded his head at the postal employee and left. He returned to the hotel and met James in the lobby.

"Well, how about some breakfast, Francesco," James suggested.

"Si! ho fame!" Francesco answered. "We eat and later we go out with Giovanni and YN! The best place in town!"

The two went into the hotel restaurant and ordered a breakfast of steak, eggs and biscuits, a favorite among the Cowboys. It was what Curly Bill usually ordered.

Back at the farmhouse, you and Johnny sleep in. When he wakes, he finds you in his arms the same way you fell asleep. Your soft thighs and warm body next to his. He begins stroking your hair and you awaken, looking at him with the smile he adores.

"Good morning, Johnny!" You whisper. He smiles at you and when you begin to stir to get up, he holds you down in a loving way to suggest he isn't ready to let you go...You settle into his arms.

You and Johnny can hear Curly Bill who has already been awake for a while. "Them fences are repaired! Now I'll go work on rebuilding the stable doors iffin Juanito ever gets up," the old cowboy guffaws.

"Looks like we got work to do!" Ringo whispers and the two of you get dressed for the day. Once downstairs, you collect eggs for breakfast while Johnny meets Curly outside. Curly Bill flashes Johnny a grin. "Well, didn't see you in the barn last night? You had somethin' nice, warm and womanly," he chuckles. "I'm sure she smelled better than them animals!" He slaps Ringo on the back and they begin carrying lumber to help the farmer repair his stable doors which had been damaged during a monsoon that swept through the area a few months prior. In fact, the storm had done significant damage to other parts of the farm and Ringo and Curly had spent all their days making repairs. At one point, during their stay, Curly Bill delivered a calf, something he had done on Old Man Clanton's farm. It wasn't the job he would prefer, but Curly Bill is a man who reciprocates when treated well.

After you collect the eggs, you enter the kitchen and you begin preparing breakfast for everyone while the farmer and his wife take a little walk together. Having Curly and Ringo and a few other cowboys helping them has been such a relief.

After you prepare breakfast, you invite the cowboys in. Curly, Ringo, the Clanton's and Stillwell walk through the door, taking turns washing their hands.

"Well, this looks mighty fine!" Curly declares. "A man can get used to this. Good grub made by a lovely lady. You know, Johnny, I'm a tad envious of you, boy!"

Curly Bill winks at Ringo and you all enjoy breakfast. Upon finishing, you gather all the plates and begin cleaning up. You then grab a basket and head outside to pull up some carrots and pick some vegetables and fruits for a soup you want to make for lunch. You remember that your father wants to take everyone out to dinner so you want to make a lighter lunch.

The afternoon sun lazes on the mountain range that frames Tombstone and James and Francesco take a stroll through town. Francesco enters the saloons and begins to clap hands and sing in Italian. James looks at the floor and smiles. Francesco enjoys a good time and his contagious enthusiasm floods the saloons he enters with other patrons lifting their glasses and cheering. Several ladies of the line approach Francesco as he is one of the most attractive men they have ever seen. However, he is there to enjoy the town and see how Americans spend their free time.

"Show me the most expensive ristorante!" Francesco motions to the bar dog.

"Across the street, place called Historic Palace. But it's real spensive and only the high rollers go there."

"Perfect!" Francesco answers and then leaves to view the rest of town.

Billy Breckenridge comes running down the street with a piece of paper in his hand. "James! James! A telegram for Francesco!"

James stops and takes the paper from Billy who is out of breath from running the two blocks from the post office.

"A message from nipote!"

Dear Tio,

I am so happy you found YN! How did you find her and where is Tombstone? I never heard...I am going to the train station and buying a ticket to you. I am coming to this place called Tombstone. I have never been to the west...Are there butteros? Westerners? I only see them in pictures. What are they like, Tio? I come to see!

Te Amo, Tio!

"Mio Dio! Too wonderful to be true! My nipoto will be here soon! Oh how long will it take for us all to be together?"

James smiles. "Who? Nipote?"

"Si si!," Francesco replied. "How you say in English? Daughter of my brother?"

"Your niece!" James exclaims. "Wow...This is turning into quite the family reunion for your, Francesco!" James fights back his tears, recalling the conversation he had with Wyatt.

"I must go to farm and tell YN and Giovanni that Daphne is coming. She is coming to see us. She never knew YN either. Mio Dio!" Francesco lifts his hands in the air as if praising the sky.

"We go," the man says impatiently.

"Alright, I'll get us a wagon," James answers.

"Follow me, Billy suggests. "I've got a wagon here."

"Graci! Graci," Francesco shouts.

James drives them out to the farm where you are all working. You see your father jump off the wagon, the telegram in hand.

"Nina! Nina!" He shouts, waving the paper and running toward you. You hug your father tight and Ringo and Curly come over to see what the commotion is all about.

"This is too good to be..." You hold the paper, tears forming in your dark eyes.

"My cugina! My cousin. She is coming here to Tombstone from New York?"

"Si! Si! She say she wants to see the west and meet a real westerner." "She said that?" Curly Bill asks, straightening himself up and adjusting his hat.

"I have picture! I show you!" Francesco shows the picture to Curly Bill and Ringo. Ringo winks at Curly, who asks Francesco, "You sure she wants to meet a cowboy? She said that?" "See yourself!"

Are there westerners there? Curly Bill reads and then he flicks his tongue and lets out a loud guffaw that echoes through the farm.

"Well, ain't that mighty nice. She wants to meet a cowboy."

The afternoon sun dripped onto the hills behind the farm and Ringo and Curly went to bathe in a the pond while you head to town for a proper bath and have your clothes laundered.

Your father and the others join you at the Historic Palace for dinner. Francesco orders a few bottles of champagne and red wine for everyone and insists of ordering the most expensive items on the menu; oysters Rockefeller, filet mignon, crab cakes, toasted French bread and fresh tomato salad.

"Here is to familia! Familia!" Francesco stands and toasts to everyone. Curly Bill stands up and joins Francesco.

"Cheers to our Talian friend," Curly declares. His social ineptness is adorable...

"And cheers to that lovely little lady who says she wants to meet a westerner! Maybe I'll get lucky like old Johnny here!"

You all stay in the restaurant until it closes, eating and drinking and socializing.

"Hey, Francesco..."Curly Bill begins. "You think I could look at that picture again?"

The older man smiles and takes the photo of his niece out of his pocket and hands it to Curly. He looks at the soft curves of her body and her beautiful face. He wonders what she is like. Is she like YN and full of blazing passion? Would she be able to knock out three men?

Francesco pays for everyone's dinner and they all return to the farm or hotel for some sleep. In a few days, Daphne would be in Tombstone.

A few days later, Francesco heads to the post office, wondering if Daphne sent another telegram regarding her whereabouts.

"Bon giorno!" Francesco announces.

"Well, good morning to you, sir. You have a telegram!" Francesco can barely contain his excitement.

Tio. I am in Tucson now. I will be in Tombstone tomorrow! I cannot wait to see you and meet cugina and the man she wants to marry.

Will you have a westerner with you? Is cugina's love a westerner?

Francesco smiles to himself. Yes. Many cowboys he thinks to himself.

The day of Daphne's arrival, Curly Bill can barely think clearly. He took a bath in town, had his clothes cleaned and even bought a new pair of socks. He went to the barber, had a hair cut and his mustache was neatly trimmed. He was pacing back and forth at the Oriental saloon while waiting for the stage. Curly downed two more shots before you, Ringo and Francesco entered the saloon and moved to where Curly was standing, leaning on the bar, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Well, I can't remember the last time I saw you this jumpy, Curly Bill," Ringo remarks. "And we've seen all kinds of hell together," Ringo takes a sip of whiskey and you and your father order wine. It is late morning and the sounds of people moving through town grew louder as townsfolk came to dine and drink and try their luck at the casinos. Curly Bill nearly spilled his drink when he heard the distant sound of the stage entering into Tombstone. Curly's heart began to pound faster and he feared the people around him could hear it. He tried to compose himself, but continued pacing, rubbing his clumsy hands together. Thoughts trailed through his mind:

What is she thinks I'm ugly like everybody else?

Maybe she hates range duds that smell like horses and cows...

She'll think cowboys are down and dirty...How will she feel about...

Curly Bill waits for the stage to come to a stop. He waits patiently, but his heart is beating so fast, he fears he may fall over. Two people exit the wagon and then Daphne emerges...She is more beautiful in person and Curly takes a deep breath... Damn! God have mercy!

Daphne arrives to meet family...And Curly Bill. Curly Bill watches Daphne hug Francesco tightly; the Italian man swings his niece around and she holds him tight, the same wide smile on her face. Daphne and YN look at each other and the old cowboy watches in delight while the two women embrace in a tight and loving hug. He takes his hat off and waits before he approaches. Ringo smiles and looks at his nervous best friend whose nervousness seemed so out of place for the big cowboy, who never seemed afraid of any challenge. But now in the presence of a beautiful stranger, Curly can barely contain himself.

"She's mighty pretty," Juanito. "Damn."

"I reckon she is," Ringo answers. He motions for he and Curly to approach you, Daphne and Francesco. Francesco introduces Daphne to Ringo and Curly. Daphne bares a remarkable resemblance to her uncle and her cousin and is the most beautiful woman Curly Bill has ever seen. Many handsome women lived around Tombstone and had pretty faces with light hair and an appearance that bordered on masculinity. But Daphne looked so feminine and delicate, but probably just as strong as YN. "Buttero!" Daphne exclaims. "Si, buttero?" She looks up at Bill, who can't believe how fearful he feels.

"What is that?" Curly asks.

"Cowboy!" Francesco exclaims happily. "Daphne has never been to the west. And she has never met a cowboy, but she always wanted to!" Curly Bill's mind races with thoughts and he desperately tries to calm the storm in his heart, but Daphne eyes pierce through him with such a confidence, it is intimidating. She wants to meet a cowboy, Curly said in his mind and he hoped he could put the charm on her and be as blessed as Ringo. "Welcome to Tombstone," Curly begins. "What's a beauty like you doing here in the west? Ain't it nicer in New York?"

Daphne smiles and looks up at Curly Bill, who can't help but smile down at the lovely lady he just met. Daphne and YN hug again and Francesco claps his hands together and hugs the two women close.

"Where is Giovanni?" Daphne asks. Ringo has come to love the name, Giovanni and he delights in hearing her and Francesco say it.

"Here!" YN says, bringing Ringo close to you. Curly watches as Daphne kisses each cheek as her uncle did.

Daphne brushes the hair away from Johnny's face in a sweet and almost motherly manner. "Giovanni! Giovanni! You are YN are so in love!"

"Yes, we are," you answer. "And wait until you hear about all the excitement about how we saved each other." You look up at Ringo and you share a smile together.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without Curly Bill here!" Ringo admits, winking at Bill, who suddenly feels important. "Curly Bill is one of the toughest men around here, Daphne!"

"This here is Curly Bill Brocious." Ringo introduces Daphne who kisses his cheeks and her sweet and citrusy perfume floods Bill's nostrils and seems almost intoxicating.

"Cowboy?" Daphne asks. "A real westerner. Exciting." Daphne eyes Curly Bill and then looks away, much to the disappointment of Curly.

"Where are you staying," Curly asks Daphne.

"At the albergo. The hotel," Daphne answers.

"Well, why don't we get you there so you can rest a bit first." Curly picks up her bag and she looks at him and smiles, her eyes still full of wonder. "I'll escort you through our town and anywhere you need to go."

At that moment, two ruffians come riding down the street, their pistols drawn. They begin hooting and howling and firing their guns in the air. Clearly intoxicated, the two fire shots towards the stage where Daphne is standing. They turn and ride over to where she and Curly are waiting. Curly Bill begins to growl. "Can't you see there's a lady right here! What the hell is going on here!" His loud voice booms over the noise of the town.

The two drunkards look down at Curly Bill, who is well armed with his two six shooters that rest on his hips.

"I'll shoot both of you iffin you ever bother her or any lady around here!" The two look at each other and ride off, they know who Curly Bill Brocious is and to mess with him or worse, someone he cares about is a sure way to secure an early exit from this life.

"You alright?" The big rustler asks, looking down at Daphne, who is clearly shaken up by what she just saw. She nods, her large liquid eyes looking fearful.

"They won't hurt you again! They won't bother you again neither!"

Daphne, too shocked to move or speak, stands in disbelief and Curly Bill realizes this may be the first time she has witnessed such lawlessness that is not as predominant in the east.

"Graci! Thank you! Thank you!" Daphne beams at Curly Bill who starts to feel like her hero. He chuckles a bit before answering, "it ain't nothing. I'll make sure you're safe."

Daphne continues smiling while Curly picks up her bags and escorts her to the hotel. Ringo and YN smile at each other and Johnny loves it that Curly Bill has an opportunity to court a wonderful woman. Ringo puts his arm around you and you both watch Bill and Daphne.

Curly Bill pays for Daphne's room and when she is given the key, he takes his hat off and stands to look at her. "Let me help you up to your room," he tells her.

"Very good. I would like that, cowboy." Her smile intoxicates the old rustler. He helps her with her bags and unlocks the door of her room. Once she is safe inside, Curly puts his hat back on.

"Well, I hope you'll be joining us later."

"Of course! I want to celebrate with everyone! And you will be there too? Yes?" Her dancing eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

"I wouldn't miss it. Maybe a few other cowboys will be joining us. How that be, Miss?"

"Si. Butteros. I have never met a real cowboy. I have only seen pictures or drawings." Bill smiles and winks at her. He absent mindedly brushes hair away from her face. She looks at the floor and smiles. Bill turns to leave and Daphne begins unpacking and freshening up. She checked herself, took a short nap and when she awoke, she put on a new pink dress that had thick straps that rested on her shoulders instead of sleeves; a common fashion in New York. She let her hair flow freely, put on some walking slippers and went to the hotel lobby.

A few guests approached Daphne and tried to make polite conversation; rumors were circulating around Tombstone regarding the controversy between the Cowboys and the Earps and the recent adventures shared by both. Both Ringo and you were celebrated since the Earps lost some popularity when the buzz included slangander about how Wyatt had an odd attraction to his half sister and did not care who the man was, no one was touching her.

Curly Bill remained close to the hotel so he would know when Daphne came out; he knew other men would approach her and may lay on the charm and he wondered if she would rather spend time with suitors who seemed more in common with her.

A few cowboys stood near Curly, waiting to get a glimpse of your beautiful cousin, Daphne . Stillwell and Barnes sat lazily in chairs across the street from the hotel and the Clanton's and McClaury's and a few others were sipping beer and twirling their pistols or sharpening their knives. Billy Clanton lit a match using his boot and puffed on a cigar while Curly tried not to make it obvious how nervous he was.

Daphne emerged from the hotel, her lovely pink gown fell almost to the ground and was layered with white and cream colored ruffles; her dark hair providing a deep and enticing contrast to her lightly colored dress. She looked like an angel and looked up and down the street before deciding to cross. Curly Bill saw her take a step into the street just as the Wells Fargo stage came ripping through Allen Street. Curly dashed across the way and pulled her away from the street moments before the stage passed the two of them. Daphne held onto Curly and gasped. "I guess I just didn't see..." Her breath seemed heavy and she was clearly shaken.

"Glad I got here just in time, then," Curly answers, taking his hat off. Daphne smiled again.

"Thank you!" She replied. Curly felt important as he escorted her across the street. Barnes and Stillwell stood up and tipped their hats to Daphne , Ike spit tobacco and Billy Clanton dropped his cigar while staring at her.

"Boys! This here is Daphne! She's the cousin of YN and she's here for a while." Curly felt a strong sense of importance when Daphne leaned in close to him as if she needed the big rustler to protect her.

"This woman is under my protection! Anyone that upsets her answers to me! I ain't kiddin neither." Curly has his arm around your waist and you lay your hand on his chest and he can smell the aroma of your perfume. Daphne looks up at Curly Bill and he cannot believe that he has been able to lay the charm on her so quickly. He puts his arm around her and it sends spasms through her body. He can feel her trembling and his heart lifts as he is feeling mighty important he knows you appreciate his chivalry and he enjoys knowing that he's showing what a real cowboy is like. "I can't thank you enough!" Daphne says as the crowd filters away from the two of you.

"Well, that's what cowboys do, Daphne ! We protect lovely ladies and make sure you're safe. This is a wild place and it ain't nothin' like the big city where you're from." This causes Daphne to smile and look at the ground. "It certainly is wild here. I almost died twice now. But I'm ok." Curly Bill winks at her and offers his arm. "Anywhere you wanna go, I'll make sure you get there without nobody botherin' you." "Really?" Daphne asks, her dark eyes dancing in her delight. In the city, men showed less chivalry to women and because in the city, there was an abundance of quality women, they really didn't have to unless eyes were on him. To not show a woman chivalry in public would cause people to look down on a man even if he was rich and influential. But in the wild west, women of substance were rare and a woman of substance who is lovely and appreciative is nothing short of a dream.

"Wanna take a walk, Daphne?" Curly asks.

"Yes. With you!" You smile again and you eyes settle into a relaxed state.

"Well, I'll show you all around," Curly said, even though he really wants to show Daphne off.

"This here is called a boomtown! It was built up real quick after silver got discovered here in Arizona. I've been to all sorts of boomtowns all over the west."

Daphne is holding his arm with one hand and her dress with the other and was intently listening to him.

"Any places wilder than this?"

"Well, down in Kansas, there's Dodge City and that ain't no place for a pretty lady like you. They ain't got nothin' like here. There ain't no museum or library. We got a bowlin' alley here and down the street, across from Freemont there's an ice cream parlor. I bet you like ice cream, right?" "Oh, yes!" "Well, then let me get you some." Daphne and Curly Bill walked down past Freemont and he helped Daphne up the stairs and into the parlor. A few people were sitting at the tables either licking their cones or spooning the sweet cream.

"We'll take two ice cream cones," Curly says, pulling some money out of his pocket.

"Chocolate for me and what would you like Daphne?"

"Strawberry!"

The man behind the counter prepares your cones and then Curly escorts you to a table where the two of you sit, enjoying your ice cream. You lick the cone in such a way, it causes a throbbing in Curly that he cannot control.

"Have you ever heard of gelato?" Daphne asks.

"What?" Curly asks.

"Gelato. Italian ice cream!"

"Well, ain't all ice cream the same?"

Daphne smiles and then chuckles which causes Bill to stop and ask, "what's so funny?" He's smiling at his own awkwardness and remembers you come from the city and are more cultured than he is. How ironic that many people want to leave the wild west and live a more peaceful life back east. But then there's this beautiful woman who wants to leave that behind in exchange for a sense of adventure and to meet a real cowboy! And now she's in the west enjoying ice cream with Curly Bill Brocious, King of the Cowboys!

"Well, different places have different types of ice cream. Gelato is very, very creamy. I had the best gelato when I was in Venice."

"Where's Venice? Is that in New York?" Daphne smiles brightly as she is so intrigued by this westerner who is a free and natural man who would find city life confining and unexciting.

"It's in Italy where Francesco is from."

"Well, I ain't never been to no other country cept Messico. But they ain't got what you called ice cream."

Daphne can't help but smile at her cowboy whose social awkwardness was refreshing and even endearing.

"Gelato." You finish up your cone before Curly Bill does and he watches on in delight as you lick your fingers in an almost child like manner which shows him you're not afraid to be yourself and maybe get your hands dirty. If she wants a cowboy, she better used to men who's duds smell like horses, Curly thinks to himself. He finishes up his treat and the two you sit at your table, looking at each other.

"So, what do cowboys do?" Daphne asks, shrugging a bit.

Curly Bill is happy that she wants to know and since cowboying is the only thing he really knows how to do, it's one thing he's great at and can talk about it for a long time.

"Well, we round up cows off the ranch and drive them to the range. It takes about 20 cowboys to drive about 3,000 cattle and we all have about three horses each." "3,000?" Daphne put a hand over her mouth. "Wow! Amazing!"

Curly Bill smiles and wipes his black mustache with his hand.

"That's right. And it takes several weeks movin' them cows and it can get real dangerous sometimes!" Curly begins straightening up as he talks about his life as a cowboy and loves how her eyes grow wide with excitement as he continues telling her about a drive.

"We take turns watchin' them cows at night so sometimes I work all day and then watch them cows at night. We take two to three hour shifts. Cowboys don't get much sleep on a drive and we're in the saddle most of the day." "That sounds dangerous, Curly Bill!"

"Hell, that ain't even the worse part. Sometimes we ain't got no water and we need to keep moving so we come across water for us and for the horses and cows. No time for bathin' neither. When I get to town, first thing I do is take a real long bath and get my clothes clean!"

"I can't imagine!" Daphne answers, her mouth open in amazement which only inflates Curly's already sizeable ego.

"And iffin we was moving through an area with Apaches or Comanches, it gets real dangerous cuz them Injuns want to hunt us down and take our scalps or worse, take us boys for torture!"

Daphne's eyes grow wide with concern; the look of concern on her face was so satisfying, Curly continues talking. She put a hand over her mouth and let out a gasp.

"You heard of them Injuns?"

Daphne nods her head slowly, her hand still over her mouth.

"Well, them boys are damn sneaky! We gotta move real good and sometimes we give them a few of our cows so they won't go killin' us boys!"

Daphne slowly shakes her head and Bill smiles at her sweetness.

"Then there's scorpions, rattlers and grizzlies."

Daphne's hand is still over her mouth and she removes it and whispers, "grizzly bears?"

Curly nods. "They can come into our camp and run off with a horse or cow or one of us! I sent a load of buckshot into a grizzly or two!"

"Curly Bill!" Daphne exclaims so loud, patrons of the parlor look over. Curly tips his hat to the concerned customers and looks back at her with that confident smile he is so well known for.

"Well, it gets real dangerous and it ain't no job for no tenderfoot. A man gotta be strong to be a cowboy and know how to live with all that danger! And we do all that on about four hours of sleep a night iffin we get any at all!"

Daphne is speechless and locks her liquid eyes are still wide with wonder. She shook her head. "I never knew it was like that. I have only seem pictures of cowboys." That makes Curly Bill smile and is overcome by the happiness blooming inside him.

"And if that ain't bad enough, we got to deal with cattle stampeding."

"You mean they all run at once?" Daphne asked, slowly removing her hand from her open mouth. Curly Bill winks at her and continues talking, relishing in how interested she was in everything he was saying.

"Yeah, and it can happen so fast. Mostly when we boys are done for the day. Someone just laughs too loud or hell, anything can spook them cows and off they run!"

"Oh my God...Curly Bill!" She said again. causing some customers to look over again. A few of them looked at the rustler, at Daphne and then at each other, some shaking their heads and others staring at Curly, their expressions bordering on confusion.

"It's all hands and the cook when a stampede happens! There ain't nobody out of their saddles! And iffin a poor fellow or a damn greenhorn rides too fast, they can fall off, they ain't gonna be above snakes that's for damn sure!"

Confusion grows on Daphne's face and she leans in close and asks, "what's a greenhorn? And what do you mean when you say, "above snakes?"

Curly smiles and realizes a refined lady like yourself has never heard cowboy slang.

"A greenhorn is a tenderfoot; a cowpoke that ain't never been on a drive. And when a man is above snakes, it means he ain't dead."

"Oh!" Daphne smiles. "It sounds so...so...I don't know...So...I don't know how you can do that!"

"I've been cowboyin' my whole life!"

"It's a good thing you're so big and strong!" Daphne responds, her eyes still gazing at Curly.

Curly Bill flicks his tongue and his smile turns to a seductive grin which causes a fire to stir within Daphne. "You're King of the Cowboys?" She says softly as she is in the presence of the strongest and bravest and toughest man she has ever met.

"Well, it looks like we had dessert before dinner" Curly Bill says.

"It was wonderful. You will be joining us for dinner?" Daphne asks.

"Well, I sure would like to." "Please?" Daphne asks. "I...I don't feel safe here....Well, not without you, Curly Bill."

Her declaration caused Curly's pride to rise like a powerful wave. He beamed from ear to ear while glancing into Daphne's eyes. He wondered if she had the same fire as you, but so far she seemed more delicate. I can't wait to find out, Curly Bill thinks.

Daphne takes his arm and walk back to the restaurant and meet Francesco and James you and Ringo.

"Time to celebrate!" Francesco announces, his hands in the air.

"Daphne! Where did you go? Did you get to know Bill?"

"Yes, Tio and he saved me twice already. I almost got hit by the Wells Fargo stage! But Curly Bill was there just in time!"

"Graci, Bill!" Francesco gushed loudly. "You are already showing Daphne the wildness of the west! And for keeping her safe." Francesco put an arm around Daphne and then shook Curly Bill's hand. "Maybe that is why she wants to meet a buttero. Because the men in the east do not have, how you say, cavalleria?"

"Chivalry," Ringo elaborated.

"Ahhh....Yes! Chivalry! That is what Daphne deserves now!"

"Well, it ain't no trouble protectin' Daphne . She's a mighty fine lady." Curly winked at Daphne who grinned and wanted to put her head on her cowboy's shoulder, but decided against it as they did not know each other very well.

They all walked into the restaurant and the hostess took them to the best table. Francesco immediately ordered champagne and red wine for everyone and asked for toasted bread with tapenade. Since Curly Bill usually eats steak and eggs, bacon and beans so this type of delicacies are different for him. Daphne puts some olive spread on toasted bread and give it to Bill, who takes a bite and feels the warm and rich flavors dance in his mouth. The soft and savory flavor mixed with the crunchiness of the toasted bread lit up Bill's palate and he enjoyed the marriage of flavors. Daphne then makes one for herself and takes delicate bites and in between nibbles, sip her wine slowly and Curly likes the way she takes pleasure from eating delicious cuisine. He usually shoves cowboy grub into his mouth faster than anyone and he can eat more than most. Eyeing Daphne savoring her meal inspires him to do the same; he slows down his pace and takes sips of his wine and then does his best to nibble on his toast and tapenade.

"What's this stuff called?" Curly Bill asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Daphne takes a sip of wine and captivate Bill with how slowly she moves when she eats.

"This is tapenade," she answers, preparing another one for Curly. He thanks her and waits for her to spread some of the salad on toast for herself. "It's different types of olives crushed together and then seasoned. Do you like it?" She looks up at him with her dark eyes that dance with the dim lighting in the restaurant.

"It's nothin' like I ever had before. It's tasty grub though. This something from...Where did you say you had that ice cream? Vin?" Curly Bill drained his wine glass and concealed a small burb, chuckling a bit.

Daphne smiles and takes Curly's hand and he feels a little flushed both from the wine and Daphne's touch.

"Venice," she responds. "It's in Italy."

"Excusa me!" Francesco motions for the waiter, who promptly walks over, a white napkin lay on his bent arm.

"Yes sir?" He inquires politely.

"Canapes with smoked salmon if you would por favore! Another hors d'oeuvre for tutti!" He sings, moving his hands in the air. Curly and Ringo love how animated your father is when talking.

The servers in the restaurant brought out the canapes and Curly and Johnny were curious about ordering different dishes with small portions. They ate one plate with many foods on it and never experienced dining like this and they did find it unique and refreshing. The waiters filled Curly's wine glass each time he finished and he could not believe the service he was enjoying. Curly and Ringo looked at each other and grinned. Participating in such cultural delights was not a part of their upbringing although Ringo did attend lavish parties at the Youngers plantation, but his familiarity with these flavors was new and unusual.

Lyonnaise salads comes out next and the plate of foods looked so artistically created and each dish looked the same. A poached egg rested on top of the lettuce and shallots along with a light olive oil dressing. Each dish served seemed more delicious than the previous and Curly was surprised at how much wine you could enjoy. He smiles to himself.

Upon finishing your salad, the servers at the restaurant bring out the main course which is beef bourguignon. Curly and Ringo look at each other and it is clear that Italians love to eat and enjoy food with others. Each dish that was set before them tasted more delicious than the previous and after a few glasses of wine and wonderful bites, Curly feels satisfied and wants to take a walk with Danielle.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Curly asks Daphne as he watches her down the rest of your wine.

"I would like that," she answers. Curly Bill takes some money out of his pocket and attempts to hand it to your father, who golds his hand up in protest.

"Assolutamente no!" Francesco replies, throwing his hands up. "This wonderful feast is on me! I want to spend my money on happy times! You and Danielle take a walk together!"

Daphne and Curly Bill look at each other and smile. Daphne clearly enjoys Curly's company and after years of dreaming, finally got to meet a real cowboy and Curly seemed to be everything she dreamed about. A swashbuckling hero of a man who helped Ringo rescue you and Daphne enjoys hearing the story over and over. How you took on three grown men and were seconds away from danger before Johnny and Curly came to save you.

As you move to the door, Curly opens it for Daphne , feeling like a true gentleman. His heart lifts when she smiles up at him.

"So, will you be leaving to move cows soon?" Daphne asks.

"Well, I am not sure. I feel I may gettin' too old for rustlin-," he stops for a moment. "Cowboyin' and driving them cows. Like I said, it sure is dangerous!"

"Well, you are so big and strong!" Daphne responds, taking Curly's hand. Her touch sends spasms through his body. "You sure are sweet," the big cowboy observes. "Real sweet. I ain't never met anyone so sweet in my life. I don't think my old mother was ever this sweet!"

"Really?" She asks, turning to her cowboy. "It's easy to be sweet to you, my cowboy!" Daphne confesses. Curly's head begins spinning from the wine and Daphne's touch. Her voice flows over him like a warm sea wave and he cannot deny his intense feelings for her. "Well, this cowboy would like to give you a kiss, Daphne." Curly looks down at Daphne , whose eyes are wide with wonder and a touch of nervousness and Curly knows his presence is intimidating. And he feels privileged that the first cowboy to kiss her is him.

He cups Daphne's face and leans down to kiss her. His heart lifts when she reciprocates his kiss with her soft and luscious lips. People in town walk past the two, but Curly Bill and Daphne stay locked in their kiss. Curly stops and kisses her head and she leans in so he can put his arms around her.

"What are you doing now, cowboy?" Daphne asks. "Do you want to come to the hotel for a drink? We can sit in the bar if you like! And then maybe you could stay for a visit in my...My room." Daphne shrugs sweetly.

"Well, I reckon that'd be real nice." He puts his arm around Daphne and walks proudly to the hotel and to the bar where several people are sitting, drinking and smoking cigars. A few men lift their glasses to Curly and he feels such a sense of pride, he tips his hand and nods. Then he looks at the woman who made that moment possible for him. Curly, like any other outlaw, desperately wanted to experience the feeling of being respectable. And this lovely lady opened the door to that possibility.

"What can I get you?" The barkeep asks.

"White wine, please," Daphne responds.

"Whiskey," Curly answers.

The two enjoy their drinks together and Curly is so surprised at how much Daphne can drink. But she doesn't down her liquor the way others do; she enjoys and savors each sip.

Curly Bill takes Daphne to her room and Daphne is tempted to invite him in, but slowly closes the door, whispering "good night."

For the next several days, Daphne and Curly spend much time together. Daphne comes to the farm to help work and Curly and Johnny seem equally impressed that your cousin Daphne embraces a strong work ethic. Daphne does various chores such as cleaning out stables, collecting eggs, cleaning indoors or harvesting vegetables. Daphne also prepared food or chopped vegetables. You and Daphne takes turns preparing fresh sandwiches for the cowboys to enjoy while they take a midday break from working. Curly and Daphne look at each other often, Curly winking at her or tipping his hat.

Ringo shakes his head while finishing off his lunch while he watches Curly Bill, who can't take his eyes off Daphne.

"She was so beautiful that she made the torches around the hall appear to grow dim. She was a dazzling jewel illuminating the dark night sky," Ringo recites.

"That more Willy Shakespear, Ringo," Curly Bill inquires.

"Of course," Johnny replies. "Maybe you could memorize a sonnet or two, Curly. Impress Daphne."

"Well," Curly begins, finishing off his sandwich. "I reckon she likes cowboys!" "I reckon she likes you, Curly." Johnny downs his lemonade and puts the glass on the ground and then adjusts his hat.

"Yeah, I reckon I like her and I'm wondering if I'll be as lucky as you, Juanito. Gettin' a beauty like that to swoon over you and then be a damn hellfire all at the same time! I guess it must that Italian way. I've known a lot of Mex women which I thought were spirited, but hell! Never one like YN. And I'm figurin' Daphne is just like that. It's kinda hard to believe, Johnny! That YN had a cousin just as beautiful and she was wantin' to meet a real cowboy! It's like a dream!"

"Well, like you told me before, Curly, it ain't no dream and these women are as real as rain! I keep thinking maybe YN is the reason I stayed alive all these years. Just so I could meet her." "Even old Willy Shakespeare couldn't write a better story!" Curly Bill muses. "I sure as hell wouldn't want anything to happen to Daphne , but iffin' it did, I'd come to save her and nothin' else would matter to me!" Curly winks at Daphne, who is walking over to gather their dishes and glasses from lunch.

"Well, thank you, Daphne!" Curly croons.

"It's my pleasure, cowboy." Daphne gushes, causing Curly to stand up. Ringo looks at the ground and smiles. He found it amusing watching old Curly do everything he could just to impress Daphne, who already seemed smitten with the old rustler.

"Well, we got more work to do, lovely lady." Curly adds before tipping his hat and handing Daphne his empty glass.

"Ok. I will bring more lemonade soon. And I am preparing dinner this evening. YN and Tio will be coming along with James. Please invite some cowboys. I am making a tomato gravy. And will be serving it with freshly made pasta."

"Well, I never heard of a gravy made from just tomatoes," Curly notes. "That something Italian," Curly inquires.

Daphne nods. "It is very different. I will show you how I prepare it later. You have work to do cowboy!" Daphne turns to leave and Curly admires her curves.

By late afternoon, you and your cousin take a bath together while Ringo and Curly bathe in the pond near the farmhouse. After getting dressed, you and Daphne come downstairs just as James and Francesco arrive in a wagon.

Francesco hops off the wagon and kisses everyone on the cheeks as he always does when greeting anyone.

"Tempo di vivere! ora di mangiare!" Francesco sings, handing a loaf of freshly baked bread. "For our dinner! salsa di pomodoro de Daphne! She is making a wonderful Italian sauce you cowboys will love this!"

"I reckon anything she makes will be tasty!" Curly bellows.

"Si Si! In Italy we never rush eating or drinking! Come come! Let us set the table together!" Francesco beings to sing in Italian wile gathering plates and glasses.

"Open the wine! Pour the champagne! Fare l'amore!" He continues dancing while putting each plate on the table. The Clanton's and Stillwell come through the door and Francesco welcomes them and pours wine for everyone.

"Daphne has prepared Pomodoro! Let's eat!"

After finishing dinner, Curly and the others go outside to smoke while you and Daphne clean up.

"Will you take me to the hotel, Curly Bill," Daphne asks.

Ike and Billy Clanton look over at Daphne and Curly chuckles when he sees their mouths drop. They stare intently at her luscious curves and they wish they had a beauty asking them to take them home.

"Well, I would be real happy to do that," the big rustler responds, putting his arm around her. Curly helps Daphne on his horse and walks beside while she rides. She glances down at her cowboy and smiles and he returns her smile. Then, Daphne blows Curly a kiss. Curly Bill laughs loudly, flicks his tongue and tips his hat.

"Goodnight, pretty," he grinned when they reach the hotel.

"Goodnight, cowboy." Daphne moves towards the hotel and Curly watches her, knowing he would love to go upstairs with her, but he wants to treat her like the lady he knows she is.

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Romancing Italia

Curly Bill returns to the farm and tries to fall asleep in the barn. He tosses and turns with thoughts of Daphne running through his mind. He wanders if she'll become disenchanted with him over time. That a refined and lovely lady would eventually grow tired of a down and dirty cowboy that never amounted to anything in his life. Or that she would become tiresome of decent folks scorning the old cowboy for trying to court such a rare and beautiful lady.

When Curly awakes on that Sunday morning, he decides to surprise Daphne with a bouquet of exquisite wildflowers and some candy. He hopes she will say yes and that he can spend the day with her. He get dressed quickly and downs the breakfast you prepared and he mounts his horse and rides into town to get a shave and pick up a few things at the general store.

When Curly gets into town, he rides to the livery and after tipping the stable kid, he strolls to the general store, the bouquet of flowers in his hand. He whistles while he crosses the crowded street. Some townsfolk glance at the cowboy while others stare in wonder; what is this big cowboy doing with flowers. He smiles to himself and when he enters the general store, a few customers quickly move to the other side of the store. Curly frowned as this was a reminder of what he thought about the night before; that Daphne would become frustrated with such encounters and would be fatigued by defending him all the time. Curly tips his hat to a few of them and they look the rustler up and down.

"Do you have some real nice candy?" Curly Bill asks the shopkeeper, who pushes his glasses back on his large face.

"Oh yes! We have very nice chocolates. Is it for a special lady?" The short store owner asks, wiping his hands on his apron.

"A real special lady, sir. No one else like her." Curly winks.

"Well, I think she's going to like these specialty candies. Do you know they come all the way from Belgium?" The shopkeeper states proudly.

"Where's that?" Curly asks, curiously.

"Oh, that's in Europe! We have some other imported things here!" The short little man comes out from behind the counter and heads to the other side of the store.

"See this here perfume?" The little man picks up a small bottle and opens the lid ever so gently.' "All the way from Paris! Maybe your lovely lady friend would like some perfume to go with her chocolates?" Curly Bill knows he doesn't have enough money to buy both items and decides to purchase the chocolates. "Maybe next time," the rustler answers. The merchant replaces the lid of the perfume and puts the bottle back.

"Of course!" He puts the box of chocolates in a small sack and hands them to Curly. He smiles and hands the merchant some cash. "Have a lovely day!" The shop owner beings humming to himself while he grabs a broom and starts sweeping.

Curly Bill heads to the hotel to see Daphne and he walks in and sees an employee by the register. The man being the counter recognizes Curly Bill and has seen the old cowboy around town with Daphne. Daphne and yourself have quickly become the two most desirable women in Tombstone and the irony that the two most beautiful ladies have fallen for two of the most dangerous men. It all seemed too good to be true for Curly Bill, who decided to enjoy the moment before Daphne's admiration for the cowboy metamorphizes into disgust.

Curly can hear a door close upstairs and a door close and he watches while Daphne comes down the winding staircase looking as beautiful as ever. Her delicate beauty takes Curly Bill's breath away and he sighs and looks over the cashier who finds some amusement in watching the large gunfighter squirm over a gorgeous woman.

Daphne steps down and moves towards Curly Bill, whose heart is beating so fast, he fights to take a breath. Daphne looks up at him with her dark, smoldering eyes. Curly Bill can't believe that he feels so nervous; he ate meals with her and watched her work with you on the farm, but at this moment, she appears more beautiful than ever. Curly hopes his dream of making her his girl would not die slowly once Daphne becomes tired of him and his cowboy antics.

"Hi, Daphne," Curly clears his throat. He would remove his hat, but his hands are full with the flowers and the chocolates he just purchased for you. "These are for you." He hands her the flowers and she smells them and then smiles at Curly. "And these too. I thought maybe you would like these. The merchant said they were uh...imported."

"Oh, I love chocolate! How did you know!" Her gratitude was so satisfying to Curly Bill; her genuine smile and large eyes that dance in the light.

"Well, I thought that'd be real nice for you since you're so sweet." Curly feels his face turn red. He cannot recall when he saw a more beautiful woman.

"These flowers are beautiful!" Daphne exclaims. "Let's go to my room so I can put them in a vase."

Curly follows her up the stairs. Daphne opens the door and a wonderful aroma floods his nose and fills his heart and makes him dizzy with affection for her. He watches while she carefully puts the flowers in a vase.

"Let's go," she says before locking the room and putting the key in her purse.

"I would like to take you around, show you what else we got here in Tombstone." Curly begins, holding Daphne's waist. While strolling through the street, Curly meets the glances of several townspeople. The women look at Daphne and then back at Bill with wonder in their eyes while the men tip their hats or do a double take and Curly Bill smiles to himself as this is a moment he has always dreamed of; to be the envy of the other men in town because he won the heart of one of the most beautiful women that ever graced the streets of Tombstone.

Curly Bill rents a wagon to take Daphne around on instead of having her riding on the back of his horse. He wants her to be as comfortable and respectable as possible and knows that if people see her riding on the back of the horse of Curly Bill Brocious, they would get the wrong idea about her and that is the last thing this old cowboy wants for her.

Curly Bill stops the wagon near a small pond with glistening blue water. The lavish wildflowers burst up through the earth and decorate the landscape with wonderous pastels and deep dark reds. Palo Verde trees provide some shade and Curly puts a large and thick blanket down. He invites Daphne to sit next to him and she does, taking he chocolates and opening the box.

"I was hoping to talk with you, Daphne," Curly says in a low voice. Daphne looks at him and smiles and then brushes his hair behind his ear. Curly takes her hand and kisses it.

"What is it," Daphne asks.

"Well, I'm just wonderin' iffin' you're gonna be staying here in Tombstone or heading back to New York with your uncle and Johnny and YN. I know they've been talking about leaving here to get away from everything's that going on. You know about YN and the Earp brother, I'm guessing."

"Oh yes, I heard it from YN. She told me how her brothers, well her half brothers tried to keep her and Johnny apart and they ended up taking her against her will. Kept her like a prisoner and YN said that you helped Johnny rescue her. You broke Johnny out of jail and then you helped save YN. She said you were so brave!"

"We had to save her. She's with one of us, then she is one of us and anyone comes down on one of us, hell, they come down on all of us."

Daphne takes a bite of her truffle and licks her lips. "These are wonderful!" "What are you going to do, I mean...I guess I ain't got the words." Bill shrugs, wishing he could tell her how he feels and that he is certain he is falling in love with her. Curly Bill regards Daphne at a his last shot at happiness-his last hope for love and a real life away from all this violence and living on the dodge. He knows he wants her and he desires no one else as this old cowboy wants to take Daphne away, marry her and spend his life with her.

"I don't know much about how do anything cept working on a ranch and I know that ain't nice and good for a lovely lady like yourself. I'd think you probably like it better in the city. It's much cleaner and you got a pick of some fine gentlemen I am sure."

Daphne finishes her truffle and takes another, smiling while biting through the rich confection.

"I am not sure I want to return to the city alone."

"Well, you'd be with Johnny, YN and your uncle."

"Yes, but I don't know if I want to go back to the city at all now that I have had a taste of the west. And my whole life I looked through magazines and saw pictures of the west. It looked so exciting and since I didn't have anything or anyone keeping me there, I just took a chance."

"How do you feel about cowboys now that you met one," Curly asks.

"I know I like you..."

Curly Bill leans in to kiss Daphne and she responds by holding him close. He becomes lost in her kisses and she falls on her back and Curly Bill kisses her neck. He can feel her resistance and he stops, stroking her hair. He knows he must move a little slower with her. He wants to ask her if she'll be his girl, but fears she may say no or that she wanted to meet a cowboy, not marry one. But he continues to believe he can lay the charm on her and she could see what a great fellow he really is.

The two spend the next couple of hours talking and resting in the warm sun. Daphne picked flowers and smelled them. She took one small flower and gave it to Curly Bill, who took it and smiled. He wanted to make love to her, but could sense some fear coming from her. He was grateful that she at least him kiss her.

"Well, I can take you back to town now," he begins, helping her up.

"Ok. This was wonderful. I hope we can do it again soon!"

On the drive back to town, Daphne rests her head on his shoulder and he feels a strong sense of pride. He was in love with her and hoped between God and hell that she loved him too...

"I gotta bring this rig back. How about you meet me in the hotel restaurant? I'd like to have a drink with you. Maybe a little dinner with this old cowboy?"

Daphne nods. Her helps her off the wagon and watches her move to the hotel. She looks back at him and smiles, brushing the hair away from her face. When he returns to the bar, Daphne already has a glass of whiskey waiting for him.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

A Bullet For Love

While sipping their beverages, they both turn when they hear commotion at the front door.

"Well, howdy folks! Rumor has it there's a real pretty lady here in town! Came in on the stage a few weeks ago!" Curly turns and sees Rattlesnake Charlie and Texas Pete enter the front door. Both skilled gunfighters with reputations for busting up towns with their six shooters and were both guerilla raiders during and after the war. Their skills with firearms almost match that of Ringo's.

Some of the patrons leave the hotel in fear and Daphne looks up at Curly Bill, whose confidence is intact.

"What do you boys want?" The big cowboy asks, not getting up from the bar stool.

"Well, we just want you to introduce us to this lovely lady here."

Curly looks at Daphne and the fear in her eyes grows wide.

"You don't deserve to know who she is. So, just make your way to the door, boys!"

Texas Pete touches Daphne's hair and she quickly pulls away.

"Don't touch me!" Daphne demands.

"I can do whatever I want!" Texas Pete growls.

"Don't you touch her!" Curly Bill howls.

Texas Pete tosses Daphne aside who falls to the floor. Pete aims his pistol directly at Curly and at that moment, Daphne springs to her feet. When the shot goes off, Curly doesn't feel a thing and when he looks at Daphne , she's limp in his arms. Daphne ran to block Curly Bill from Texas Pete's shot and the bullet entered her shoulder and she lay motionless in Curly's arms.

Curly Bill drew his pistols and shot the two gunfighters. They both dropped and met their makers.

Several residents come running into the hotel and see Daphne, laying in a death sleep with Curly Bill, who is weeping at her side. He pulls her face up and shakes her to wake her up, but her eyes remain closed and she's barely breathing. Curly feels intense guilt that Daphne jumped in front of him so she can take the bullet for him. Curly knew men over the years who vowed to take a bullet for him, but ran like rabbits when given that opportunity. But to have a lovely lady who has never seen the west move to save him filled this old cowboy with a number of unfamiliar emotions and stirred up old ones. He knew that he would never forgive himself and what would Francesco and James and the others think? Curly worried they might lose confidence in his ability to protect Daphne or that he let it happen. Dizziness and confusion enfold Curly and he holds Daphne close to him, tears streaming down his face.

"What happened?" The hotel cook dashes from the kitchen. Fatty Jim, the cook knelt by Curly.

Fatty knew Curly Bill well since the cowboy enjoyed many meals in the restaurant and even defended the old cook when some of the ruffians that frequented Tombstone got too rowdy or refused to pay their bill.

"I heard three shots!" Fatty said, taking his apron off and putting it under Daphne's head.

"You stay here with her, I'll get Doc Fletcher!" Fatty ran out the door while some townsfolk came in, their hands over their open mouths.

"No!" Curly bellows. "No! Not the prettiest damn flower in Arizona! Please be ok!"

Daphne moans softly and moves her head. Curly holds her close.

"Bill..."She whispers. She tries to move towards him, but he helps her to lie down.

"What is it, Daphne! Anything...I'll do anything for you!"

Doc Fletcher comes running with Fatty Jim and the doctor falls to his knees. He quickly checks Daphne's pulse. She opens her eyes and looks up at Curly, with confusion and pain in her eyes. "Bill.." She whispers again.

"Let's get her upstairs!" Fletcher shouts.

Curly Bill picks Daphne up and carries her upstairs, unaware of the stares and glances he is getting from concerned patrons and citizens of Tombstone. Gunfights are not uncommon in Tombstone and outlaws have been known to participate in fights over anything from losing a poker game to crawfishing a deal. But for a beautiful stranger throwing herself in front of a known rustler and killer did not make the headlines of any paper in the west.

"Fatty!" Curly declares. "Go get Ringo, James Earp and Daphne's father!"

"Anything for you, Curly. I can't forget what you did for me!" Fatty runs downstairs and heads to the restaurant where Francesco is enjoying dessert. You and Ringo stand when Fatty storms in.

"You better come with me!" Fatty bellows. "Something happening with your niece, Francesco!"

Francesco stands quickly. "Cugina! What happened to my Daphne?"

"It's best you come with me," Fatty answers, wiping his forehead with his arm.

They all head out to the hotel.

"Cosa sta succedendo?" Francesco begs.

The hotel clerk approached them quickly, wringing his nervous hands together. "They're upstairs!"

Ringo and you head up first, Francesco beginning to weep. James knocks on the door and Doc Fletcher opens it, wiping his hands with a towel. "She's been shot!" Fletcher confirms. "But I don't think it is fatal. Luckily, the bullet went right through her!"

"How did this happen?" You implore, sitting by your cousin.

"She did it for me," Curly answers, holding his hat in his hands.

"What do you mean?" Francesco blurts. "What happened, Bill?" Francesco weeps.

Curly Bill stands, holding his hat, tears forming in his eyes.

"It don't make no matter now," Fletcher answers. "We gotta get the bleeding to stop!" Fletcher pushes his glasses up his nose with a bloody hand.

"Is she going to die?" Ringo asks, his heart sinking.

"I don't think so. I've seen lots of these shoulder hits in the war."

"You better step outside a bit," Fletcher explains, opening his medical bag and putting an apron on. He covers his nose and mouth with a surgical mask and begins cleaning and stitching her wound.

Ringo, you, James, Francesco and Curly head downstairs. The hotel clerk closed the doors and decided to reopen in the morning. By that time, everyone cleared the dining room so just the five of them sat there. Fatty brought some drinks out for everyone and sat at the table, sweat dripping from his fat face.

Ringo brings you back to the farm so you can get some rest and then he returns to the hotel to check on Daphne and Curly Bill. Ringo knew how wild Tombstone can get; and it didn't seem to matter if it was day or night...

You toss and turn in your bed, worried about your cousin and this would push James to express more concerns about your association with Johnny and what would happen when word got out that Daphne was shot right in front of Curly Bill would cause many townsfolk to look down on the cowboy and encourage you to stay away from him and Ringo. All they would cause you and Danielle is trouble and more trouble...

Doc Fletcher opens the door of Daphne's room and slowly heads downstairs. He wipes his glasses with the sleeve of his shirt and moves to the table where Ringo and Curly, James and Francesco are sleeping, their heads on the table.

"I cleaned her up," Doc Fletcher announces and the four men jolt awake.

"Can I see her?" Curly implores.

Fletcher nods. "Sure, son. She's real sleepy. I gave her quite a but of morphine so I could stich her well. Only words outta her mouth are "Bill." Fletcher lowers his head. "She kept calling for you, Curly Bill."

At that declaration, Curly runs up the stairs and bursts into Daphne's room.

"Daphne!" Curly says, kneeling next to your bed.

"Bill," she whispers.

"Don't say nothin'. Just rest." He answers. Curly lays his head on Daphne's lap and falls back to sleep.

"It must have happened so fast," Ringo begins. He shakes his head. "Tough to believe they got the drop on Curly."

"What do you mean?" James asks.

"Curly is fast. Faster than most. I don't know if they were targeting Bill or her." Ringo looks to the floor, his heart filled with sympathy.

"She'll be ok in a few days. She'll be able to tell us more about what happened. Curly seems in shock and he doesn't want to talk about it." Doc Fletcher announces, taking a swig of whiskey.

"I gotta get cleaned up," the doctor says, heading to the closed door. They all watch him leave and head back to his office.

"Give her some time. She's still sleeping and recovering. Let her rest."

Curly Bill comes downstairs and looks at James and Francesco. "I gotta take care of something, boys."

They both watch him leave. Curly heads to the large general store.

The shopkeeper steps off a short ladder and heads to where Curly is standing.

"Can I help you, sir?" The little man asks.

"I'd like to buy a ring. A real pretty one. For someone real special." "I remember you. You bought candies here. How'd that lady enjoy those?" "She liked em real fine," the rustler answers. "Show me what you got for rings." "Is this an engagement ring?" The merchant asks, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

Curly nods. The shop owner unlocks a display case and brings out a small box and opens it. Beautiful jewels sparkle and gleam. Curly picks a light pink one as he remembers the dress you wore when you enjoyed ice cream together. Curly looks at it and then nods. The merchant closes the box and replaces it into the display case and locks it. "Shall I wrap it for you?"

"No," Curly grunts and takes the ring and returns to the hotel.

Curly heads up to Daphne's room and sees that she is still sleeping. He watches her sleep and still cannot believe her devotion to him.

Curly takes Daphne's left hand and with tears streaming down his face. He reaches into his pocket and with trembling hands, he places the ring around Daphne's finger. Curly wipes his tears with his shirt sleeve and then falls asleep in the chair next to her.

James lets out a long sigh. "She's damn lucky Curly got them both before they killed her. I can't forget that fact."

Ringo feels a strong sense of relief that James can recognize that Curly would never put Daphne or any lady for that matter in a dangerous situation.

"I know YN is going to want to see Daphne," Ringo starts. "I'm going to head out to get her." Ringo stands to leave. He glances at Francesco and James who both nod.

"I need to see my Daphne!" Francesco announces. He stands and heads upstairs. He touches Curly Bill's shoulder, causing the cowboy to awaken and stir.

"Francesco!" Curly bellows. "She's gonna be ok!" Curly continues. I can't say I'm sorry enough!" Curly's bloodshot eyes begin to well with tears.

"Sorry? You saved her!"

Curly glances at Francesco, who's holding back his own tears.

"Curly Bill..." Daphne utters again.

"Daphne! Tio is here too!" To the surprise of both men, she smiles. She moves to sit up and winces in pain, touching her shoulder, tears of agony streaming down her face.

"Rest, Daphne," Curly says, holding her delicate hand in his big clumsy one.

"Okay," she answers, her pep returning. Curly is so surprised that in spite of everything, Daphne still looks beautiful...

Curly kneels next to her. "Why, Daphne? Why did you do that?"

Daphne touches Curly's face. "I wanted to save you like you saved me..." Daphne answers, tears steaming down her face.

"Mi Dio!" Francesco replies. "Vero amore!"

"What?" Curly asks, in complete disbelief. To think she actually took a bullet and that she was willing to die for him fills the old gunfighter with such gratitude, love, admiration for you and a sense of shame. Nobody ever cared for him like this!

"Tio, Curly saved me twice in one day! He saved me. I wanted to show you, Bill how much I appreciate you!"

Too moved to speak, Curly Bill lifts Daphne from her position so he can hold her in his arms. She feels so limp and almost lifeless. He takes her hand and lifts it to kiss it. He then shows her the pink jewel that is wrapped around her finger.

"Curly Bill," Daphne whispers, tears falling from her large, dark eyes. She swallows hard and tries to sit up, but winches in pain. She falls back on the pillow, coughing. Daphne looks at the shining gem that lays on her delicate finger. Her eyes lock with Curly Bill's.

"Why, Daphne?" Curly asks again. He feels his throat tighten and fights back tears.

"Because..." Daphne begins. "I..." She closes her eyes.

"Daphne!" Curly Bill utters. "You're just about the best thing that ever happened to me!"

"I just wanted to show you that I am worthy of your love," Daphne confesses, wiping the tears that still drip from her tired eyes.

Curly's heart drops and then lifts into a flying crescendo of wonder. Nobody ever risked their hides for Curly Bill except for a few surly dudes, but a beautiful woman who risks her own safety, her own life just to protect this down and dirty cowboy causes Curly to sob, almost uncontrollably. He shakes his head and looks into her eyes that are full of love.

"Daphne," Curly weeps through his words and quickly composes himself, although filled with an unbelievable marriage of intense feelings ranging from love to shame to wonder and to absolute joy.

"Will you marry me?" Curly Bill gulps. He feels he's in a dream-a trance and that in a moment, he'll be back to the hell he lives in. But he remains in the glorious reality he never thought he would experience.

Daphne sits up in bed, slowly moving through her pain. "Yes!" She exclaims. Curly pulls her up so he can hold her, her body so weak in his arms, but he is grateful he can hold her close to him. He touches her soft hair and kisses her almost lifeless lips.

"Well," Curly starts. "You just made me the happiest man in the world!"

"Two weddings!" Francesco announces, his handsome face turning to a smile. "Daphne will get well! Very soon!" Francesco and Curly Bill share a hug and then shake hands. Francesco kisses Curly Bill on both cheeks. "I go and get YN! You stay with Daphne!" Francesco begins singing softly in Italian while running down the stairs.

A short time later, Francesco returns with you and Johnny. In your arms, you hold a basket of beauty items so you can help your cousin wash up and brush her hair as you know how important that is to her. You and Johnny head upstairs to find Daphne and Curly Bill locked in a kiss.

"Baci!" Francesco declares. "Amore! Amore!" He sings. You and Ringo look at each other, Johnny's arm around you.

Ringo shakes Curly's hand and you look down at Daphne's finger and sees the beautiful ring Curly Bill bought for her.

"Daphne," you begin. "Let's get you cleaned up a little." Your pour water into a basin and with a soapy cloth, you wipe Daphne's arms clean.

"If you could wait outside, a bit," you ask the cowboys and your father.

"Si! Si!" Francesco agrees. "Take care of Daphne ! We go eat a bit, ok?"

Curly and Ringo feel famished and follow Francesco down to the hotel restaurant. The restaurant only serves meals at certain times; 8 to 10 for breakfast, 12 to 2 for lunch and 5 to 730 for dinner. Fatty comes out of the kitchen, mopping his face with his apron.

"We're open for you, boys!" Fatty declares. "Have a seat and I'll bring out some coffee, steak and eggs! I got biscuits leftover from breakfast and since we ain't serving lunch for another hour and a half, you boys take your time!"

"Much obliged," Curly nods, rubbing his face with his hands.

Fatty returns with their breakfast and puts wild honey next to the basket of biscuits. The boys nod, eating quickly and they can't believe their hunger. They eat, double fisted, taking large bites of everything until their plates are empty.

The boys can hear Fatty talking to the workers in the kitchen and he comes back to their table, quickly gathering their dishes and cups.

"How is Daphne?" Fatty asks.

"She's gonna be alright," Curly replies, smiling. "I can't believe what she did," Curly looks down, resting his elbows on the table.

"What?" Fatty inquires, balancing the dishes.

"Morire per amore!" Francesco belts, his eyes glowing with tears.

Ringo nods, understanding the basics of the language. She was willing to die for love, Ringo laments. Daphne, although did not knock out three grown men on her own, proved her strong and passionate spirit that parallels yours. Both women demonstrated strength, courage, love and passion so intense, it seemed nothing could stop it from flowing through them. How proud Francesco must be! Ringo thinks to himself. One woman fought and defeated three men and the other threw herself in front of her cowboy so she could prove worthy of his love! And now, Curly Bill and Ringo were going to spend their lives with them.

"She threw herself in front of Curly when some thugs tried to shoot him," Ringo answers.

Fatty gasps and drops a dish. "Hot damn!" Fatty declares. "I ain't never heard of anything like that around here!" Fatty looks at Curly Bill. "You're a lucky man! Well, you're both lucky. Two ladies who would die standing up!" Fatty shakes his head while heading into the kitchen.

After finishing their meals, Curly Bill and Johnny head into town to have their clothes laundered, get a bath a good shave. Curly doesn't want to be away from Danielle for too long and feels a strong obligation to ensure her safety.

While Daphne rests, Johnny and Curly head back to the farm with you so you can rest also.

You and Johnny head upstairs to take a nap together while Curly rests in one of the spare rooms that has a bed without a frame, but is cleaner than sleeping in the barn. While Curly Bill drifts off to sleep, losing himself in a dream. He imagines Daphne, watching a gunfight take place and all she could do was jump in front of him to shield him oncoming danger in an attempt to prove her love!

Prove her love? Curly gloats. The thought of a beautiful woman risking her life to save him threw Curly's heart and mind into a glorious wrestling match of delight, intrigue and awe. Awe that anyone would risk their lives for this down and dirty cowboy, especially in a land of such lawlessness. Curly's mind replays the event when Daphne lunged forward and fell to the floor and Curly Bill thinking she was dead. At that height of uncertainty, Curly saw his dreams come crashing down like a building on fire. When he learned that the gunshot simply grazed her shoulder, he felt happy to be alive; maybe for the first time in his life. Curly drifts off to sleep, eager to awaken so he can see his love.

Ringo caresses your hair while you lay your head on his chest. Both tempted to make love, but feel the fatigue of the excitement overtake your bodies and you and Johnny fall asleep together.

Curly wakes up and notices much time passed since he fell asleep. He couldn't believe his lethargy. He stands and looks out the window. The stars that occupy the night sky seem to burn brighter and stronger now. He can hear the cows moo in the barn and the symphony of insects delights his senses. He imagines his future; sleeping next to the woman of his dreams; the woman who changed everything for him. Curly vows to hold her until she falls asleep for the rest of his life and promises to prove his love to her. To spend his life hoping to prove he is worthy of her love.

Everyday. His generosity towards Daphne would be his way of showing gratitude to the heavens for giving him a second chance at love.

And life.

The following morning, Curly rises while you and Ringo are still sleeping. He rides into town and heads to the restaurant and orders a plate of food for Daphne . He then goes to the hotel to give Daphne some nourishment.

Curly enters the room and sits by the bed where Daphne lay sleeping. Her breath slow and steady and she was so beautiful even in sleep. He takes her hand and kisses it, playing with the ring he placed around her finger. Daphne stirs and then wakes up, a smile on her face as soon as she realizes Curly is with you. He smiles and helps you sit up.

"Curly Bill," Daphne whispers, feeling her strength return. "What did you do?" Her countenance lights up the room. Curly puts some food on a fork. He's never fed woman before; in is awkwardness, he spills the food onto the bed, missing her mouth. Daphne giggles and Curly joins her.

"I sure am sorry, pretty!" Curly belts out, laughing.

Daphne takes the fork, but Curly grabs it back, intent on feeding her. He regains some control and slowly feeds Daphne until she has devoured everything on the plate. Curly then takes a slice of apple pie and takes a bite and then gives most of it to her. She smiles though each bite, gratitude forming in her dark eyes.

"Thank you!" Daphne declares, wiping crumbs from her mouth.

"I'm going to take care of you today," Curly says, rubbing her head.

"Show you I'm worthy of your love!"

Tears begin to stream down Daphne's face and Curly wipes them , fighting back his own powerful emotions.

Daphne hears the sound of horses trotting outside and Curly looks out the window and sees Ringo riding up with you on the back of his horse.

"YN is here to help you. I'm gonna make sure you have everything you need. I'm just damn relieved to know you're gonna be ok."

You enter the room and help Daphne get dressed because you want to take her back to your small cottage so you can rest better at home.

Curly Bill helps Daphne on his horse and he walks alongside while she rides slowly. The air fills with the aroma of wildflowers in bloom and Daphne feels grateful she can be outside now that she's feeling better. Curly Bill gets off his horse and slowly helps Daphne down. She falls into his arms and he wraps himself around her, not able to let go and he loves how she doesn't pull away and lets him hold her as long as wants to. He kisses her head and takes her hand to guide her up the stairs.

Francesco and James come rising towards your house. They're in a buckboard they rented from town.

"Mio Dio!" Francesco announces, jumping off the wagon. "How are my lovelies?" He runs towards Daphne, who is still being guided by Curly.

"Tio!" Daphne smiles.

"I help you, Bill!" Francesco suggests. "Get her in bed!"

"No," Daphne says, shaking her head. "I feel like I have been in bed for so long, Tio. I want to rest a bit, but I would like to get out a bit."

"Your uncle is right, Daphne!" Curly agrees. "I'll be right here! I ain't leaving you out of my sight!"

"Dio vi benedica!" Francesco says to Curly, who smiles widely at the older man.

"God bless you!" Francesco declares.

Curly Bill help Daphne onto the couch so she can sit. "Anything there you need! Just let old Curly know! Me and my boys are going to watch out for you now!"

You enter the room with Johnny.

"What's happening in town?" Ringo asks James, who takes his hat off and sits on a chair by the small table.

"Well, things are settling down. I don't think they want anymore trouble," he lowers his head. "I had a talk with Wyatt and he knows my position and that you're going to marry Mr. Ringo whether they like it or not." He clears his throat before continuing. "And that you have my blessing." James grows silent and then looks up at you and Johnny Ringo.

"What did Wyatt say?" You ask.

"He said he couldn't be more ashamed of you, YN," James grumbles.

Ringo, understanding how it can feel to be rejected by family members puts his arm around your waist, feeling unimaginable gratitude and pride. He also can't help but feel a sense of vindication; he stole something from Wyatt, something Wyatt secretly desired, but couldn't have. Ringo also knows that you may never see your brothers again with the exception of James.

"That all?" You inquire.

James looks at the door to your cottage. He lets out a long sigh. "You're not a part of the family anymore and he's telling Warren and Martha that you decided to run of with a known outlaw and you are no longer welcome at any family events.

You bite your lip, feeling the sting of rejection. You slowly nod your head, leaning into Johnny, who kisses your head and whispers in your ear, "I love you."

You turn to Ringo and wrap your arms around him. "I love you, Johnny!"

"And if you break off your engagement with Johnny here, you'll be welcomed back into the family." James finishes.

Francesco, who is usually full of life walks over to you and Ringo. He takes your face and kisses your forehead. "Then there is no love in his heart!" The Italian says. "Anyone who loves you, wants you to be happy! No conditions or limits on love."

"Martha doesn't want to see me?" You ask, feeling your heart sink. "She's my sister. I have always been close to her. She wanted to stay in Kansas and marry Bobby Fisher. Wyatt didn't seem to care that she stayed behind. She got to marry her love, but I can't?"

"YN," James begins. "You know you will always have me. I know how Wyatt is. He didn't have odd feelings for Martha and she was always considered a stand up lady." "She was just obedient to mother and father!" You say, your voice rising. James motions for you to calm down.

"I know this is painful and it is a lot to think about."

"What happens if Martha gets sick or has a child?" You beg, your voice cracking.

James shakes his head slowly. "Not if Wyatt has anything to say about it. He's damn angry about all of this. It's not just you and Johnny getting along together. It's the fact that the Earps despise Curly Bill and Ringo and well, all the cowboy types."

"Cowboy types?" You demand. "He's a self righteous jack ass!" You blurt out. Curly Bill guffaws loudly.

Ringo looks down at you. "You do what you must." He takes your hand and kisses it.

"I'm going to marry the man I love! It is so unfair that Wyatt treats only me this way!"

"I know, YN."

"Look at the woman he is with! That Marcus woman has been with every man in town! And Doc Holliday? He's a stone cold killer!"

James stirs uneasily in his chair. "It's more than that you and know that. You know how he feels..."

This causes you to grow angrier. You begin sobbing. Ringo takes you in his arms and holds you close. He can't believe the sacrifices you made for him and what you have given up and plan on giving up just for him. His family rejected him and he understands the pain. You are willingly removing yourself from your family so you can be with Johnny Ringo.

"I just want to leave! Start over somewhere!" You annouce.

"You always have me!" Francesco interjects. "I take care of you! You can come with me to New York or you can live anywhere you like. I have money and I can give you and Giovanni everything! And I give everything Daphne needs to and Bill. I want all of you to be happy and be with the person you love!"

You run to your father who hugs you tight. "Father! Thank you!" Francesco lets go of you and looks around the room. "We are leaving here. You have weddings here and once you are all married, we go anywhere you want!" Francesco claps his hands and smiles, causing you and Johnny to giggle a bit. The older Italian man was so full of life!

"Lets have one big wedding!" Francesco shouts. "We have it here. No one going to say anything!" He takes you and waltzes around the room and then goes to where Daphne is resting her head on Curly Bill's chest.

"What do you say, cowboy Curly Bill?" Francesco requests. "What a wedding! Two of the most beautiful women in the world marrying cowboys! Wonderful! We plan now!"

Francesco's ability to lift the spirits of everyone in the room inspires Ringo and Curly Bill. Francesco had a lust for life that seemed contagious.

"We eat! Yes?" Francesco glances at you and you go to the kitchen to prepare some food.

While you are making a stew and a few steaks, Daphne asks if she set the table and you nod your head. You show her where the dishes are. Curly Bill heads over and takes the pile of plates. "I'll carry these," he winks. Daphne gives him a kiss which causes the old rustler to blush a bit.

After you finish dinner, Francesco begins planning the double wedding. "We have it outside and far from town so nobody comes to bother you!"

Curly Bill looks at Daphne. "You alright havin' my boys come?"

"Of course!" Daphne answers.

"Well, that's mighty nice and I'll make sure them boys don't go causin' no trouble by getting too rowdy." He takes Daphne's hand and kisses it, looking at the ring on her finger.

"Tomorrow, I'll go into town and pick up a catalogue of wedding dresses," you say.

"Yes!" Francesco beams. "The most expensive and most beautiful dresses for my girls!"

Curly Bill and Ringo return to their cowboy camp so they can celebrate with their closest friends. The Clanton's, McClaury's, Barnes, Indian Charlie, Stillwell, Cruz and a few others shake hands with Ringo and Curly. Others are clapping with lit cigars in their mouths and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. They hoot, howl and whistle while clinking their bottles together.

"Y'all getting hitched! Still can't believe it!" Billy Clairborne claps, spitting tabacco on the ground. "Damn!"

"Where you gonna live, Curly?" Ike Clanton asks, holding a cigar between his teeth.

"Wherever Daphne wants to live, I'll go!" Curly bellows. "I ain't never letting that little girl out of my sight! She's not just my girl, she's a good lick charm, boys! Hell! I'd be dead if it weren't for her!"

Billy Clanton takes a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and then lights a cigar. "We're coming to your wedding, right?"

"Well, of course, I gotta have you boys there. Man only gets married to a gorgeous woman once in his life!"

The cowboys bray and shout enthusiastically.

"What about you, Ringo?" Barnes asks. "We coming to your wedding too?"

"We're having a double wedding, boys!" Ringo announces. His sad eyes look full of delight and happiness; a look the other cowboys did not see in Ringo.

The men continue their party; a few cowboys play guitar and harmonica while Curly Bill and Ringo pass whiskey around to the boys and they keep drinking, singing and dancing until they grow so tired and weary. they escape into their tents or velvet couches and fall asleep.

(In progress...let me know where you want this go)!

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