#and after movin around we just Kept Finding Things and agreed this trip we had to return from

[jesterbots]

i mean when you get right down to it, what is family compared to the lifelong bond you make when a coworker beats a beast off your face with a shovel

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Bonus Chapter: Colorado

Description: Takes place a year and a half after the first bonus chapter Back to the Beginning. The reader and Chris are married with life changes ahead. Original description for the series Conversations: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader, Scott Evans

Warning: Slightly NSFW (18+ only!), cursing, talk of pregnancy, fluff, Grumpy and Sassy shenanigans. 

A/N: Look who finally wrote a bonus chapter for Conversations! This girl, right here! Just a little timestamp in the reader and Chris’ life. And of course we needed some Scott time. You do not have to read the series to read this one shot, but it doesn’t hurt. Reblogs, comments, asks, what have you, I enjoy. 

Italics are internal thoughts

**

“Honestly, love, it’s fine,” you spoke softly into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice even. The last thing you want is for him to feel worse than he already does.

“I don’t know…” Chris trailed off. “Usually, when women say the word fine, they really don’t mean, fine.”

“Such a guy,” you chuckle. “I promise, Scott and I are going to have a terrific time. He’s taking care of me and promised not to get us into any trouble.” You raise an eyebrow at your travel companion seated next to you in the hired car.

Chris laughed and then followed it up with a groan. “That does not make me feel better. Put me on speaker.”

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked or rather demanded. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Scott, you better take care of my wife. She’s precious cargo. And she’s carrying precious cargo. So, it’s extra precious cargo.”

You laughed; hand automatically going to your stomach. You were four months along and just starting to show. Family and close friends knew the two of you were expecting your first child, but the tabloids had not caught wind. The two of you had been going back and forth on whether to let People Magazine do an exclusive cover shoot when baby Evans is born. The money earned from People would be donated to charity which was the only reason you were even considering it. Plus, the whole you two breaking the news rather than the public finding out when you weren’t ready. Chris wanted to be the one to introduce his child to the world rather than having paparazzi sneaking into your backyard to get a picture. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“Would you relax! You’re going to give yourself a coronary and then I’d have to take care of both precious cargos and you don’t want that.” Scott shouted.

I really hope the driver doesn’t recognize Scott.

You smacked his arm, taking the call off speaker and bringing it back to your ear. “Chris, we are both going to be just fine. The plane ride was as relaxing as any plane ride can be and we are almost to the hotel. Scott and I are going to pamper ourselves and eat lots of great food. Work is important and I completely understand.”

Chris got called back to Los Angeles for reshoots that he couldn’t get out of. He planned a couple of mini babymoons and this was going to be the first one. Because of your advanced age – insert eyeroll – your doctor had mentioned it may not be safe to travel a lot once you were six months along. Chris took this seriously and booked a trip to Colorado at a gorgeous snowy mountain resort. There wouldn’t be any skiing, just loads of alone time and cuddling by the fireplace. When Chris had to cancel, Scott stepped in and volunteered the cuddles.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you. I’m just disappointed our romantic getaway is now being shared with Scott. My brother,” he said, voice in mock disgust.

“It’s fine. Scott and I haven’t hung out just the two of us in forever.” Scott reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Have a great time and rest please.”

“You know I will. I love you, babe. Say hi to Pedro for me,” you said, smile evident in your voice.

“I will. Love you too.”

**

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans?” The check in clerk, Barbara according to her nametag asked.

“That’s right,” Scott chimed in, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Newlyweds.”

You forced a smile and bit the inside of your cheek so that you wouldn’t laugh.

“Congratulations!” she replied with a sweet smile on her face.

She tapped her chin with her index finger before going back to her keyboard. “Let’s see what I can do here,” Barbara replied, typing away on the computer in front of her. “We have you in a one-bedroom suite with a mountain view, but,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I’m moving the two of you to one of our honeymoon suites.”

Scott gasped and slapped his hand on the countertop. “That’s mighty nice of you,” he spoke in a fake southern accent.

Where did that come from?

“Me and the misses really appreciate it. Don’t we honey?” he asked, turning his attention back to you.

“My pleasure,” Barbara said before you could reply, laying two room keycards on the counter next to Scott’s hand.

You smiled brightly but kept your mouth closed, so afraid of letting a chuckle out or saying the wrong thing. Scott steered you away from the counter, placing a hand on your bottom.

Once you turned the corner to the bank of elevators, you yanked Scott’s hand off your behind.

“Newlyweds. Really?”

“It got us an upgrade, didn’t it dear?”

**

The first night you were fine. Scott kept you occupied with stories of the single life and the wonders of online dating. You weren’t sure how he did it. Or rather, how he didn’t. After he told you about the guy who wore Barney the dinosaur underwear in a child’s size husky, you laughed until you cried.

“But did you still sleep with him?” you asked wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Sassy! Of course not. Barneeeeyyyy,” he drawled out.

Shrugging your shoulders, you got up to grab yourself a tissue from the bathroom. Coming back in the room, Scott was on his phone, fingers swiping feverously. You plopped down on the couch, tucking one leg under yourself.

“Here,” Scott said, handing you his phone. On screen was what you would refer to as tall, dark, and handsome.

“He’s hot,” you said, passing the phone back to him.

“Barney.”

��No,” you gasped.

Scott sighed before he started to laugh which got you going once again.

**

The second day you weren’t so fine. The two of you ordered breakfast in the suite. Pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy thick cut bacon, sausage links, a bowl of mixed fruit, and decaf coffee because Scott was in solidarity with you on your caffeine hiatus.

“Let’s go for a walk. There are tons of trails that the resort clears of snow. I need to work off this breakfast,” Scott said patting his stomach.

“You and me both,” you said, getting up to put on actual clothes instead of the pajamas you were still wearing.

“You are so lucky. Get to eat whatever you want and can just blame it on the baby.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face him, lower lip slightly wobbling. Since the minute you found out you were pregnant, you found it really hard to control your emotions. You knew Scott didn’t mean anything by the commit, but your brain couldn’t help itself.

“I have to work really hard to be healthy. It’s bad enough the doctor said I’m old.” A sob escapes your lips. The tears already starting to roll down your cheeks. “I can’t have any caffeine, can’t eat a lot of my favorite foods, have to cut back on my salt. My salt! You know fries are my jam. Doesn’t help that my husband is built like a fucking Greek God. I’m not a model or an actress. I already feel like Dodger’s poo compared to him.”

Scott was out of his seat before you could utter another word. Strong arm pulling you to his chest while one hand cradled your head.

“Stop that. You are fucking beautiful and frankly my bonehead brother is lucky you agreed to marry him. Do you even know how many times I have had to leave the room in the last two months when he starts talking about you growing his child inside you and that it turns him on?” Scott pulls away slightly an emulates puking.

“Stop,” you said, burying your head in his neck.

“Why is my neck wet, Sassy.”

“It’s snot,” you said with a chuckle, wrapping your arm around him and holding on tight.

“You two are meant for each other.”

After a minute he pulled away and grasped both of your hands. “I’m with you in any way you need. If you need a healthy eating buddy, I am your man. If you want to say ‘to hell with it’, I’ll pick up McDonalds for the two of us every day if you like.”

You wiped at your eyes and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I love you Grumpy.”

“Love you too,” he replied and then clapped his hands together. “So, are we napping or are we walking?”

“Walking,” you stated, making your way into the bedroom to finally get changed.

That evening, the two of you got dressed up and went to your dinner reservation at the hotel where you were addressed as Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Scott stuck to sparkling water even though you encouraged him to get an alcoholic beverage.

“I don’t need to drink to be the life of the party. You know that.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d kept you entertained even without the raspberry liquor he force fed you years ago.

“I think we need a dance party when we get back to the room. For old time sakes. Before I am too big to shake it.”

“Done and done.”

The night ended in a bubble bath with both you and Scott in your swimsuits in an oversized soaking tub. Dozens of pictures were taken with many going to your husband. Rather than a text in return, he called.

“What is this? My brother movin’ in on my wife?”

“Babe! You know that it was me and Scott from the start,” you teased.

Chris chuckled. “You go away for a couple of days and it’s like that.”

“You know you are my one and only. Scott’s just making me smile.”

“I know baby. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you said.

**

The next day you were weepy. As much as you tried to put on a happy face, you were missing Chris. Pregnancy hormones or not, Chris had been working a lot and you had barely seen each other. This romantic babymoon wasn’t what you had in mind. Yes, spending it with your best friend was great, but it wasn’t the same.

The fire place was roaring while Magic Mike was queued up on the flat screen. You and Scott were dressed in jeans and cable knit sweaters with fuzzy socks on your feet. The snow was coming down heavy which was fine with you since neither of you had any place to be.

Pop in hand, though you wouldn’t let Scott hear you call soda that, diet for you, regular for him, the only thing you were needing was Dodger’s wet nose on your stomach and Chris.

“You know, Chris can do that,” you said pointing at the screen where one of the dancers picked up an audience member like she weighed a pound.

“No. Stop. Do not ruin this movie for me. I do not need to picture what you and my brother do.”

“Scott, you do know where babies come from, right?”

“Gross.”

You chuckled, standing up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Why you brought up Chris when you already cried twice this morning was beyond you. After using the bathroom, you cleaned up your face and stepped back into the living room of your suite.

Scott draped himself over the couch, phone in hand, eyes shifting between the screen of his phone and the TV.

“I think I’m going to take another bath. Need to relax a little bit.”

Scott looked up. “Not too hot.”

“Yes, dad,” you said, offering him a mock salute.

You kept the bath water warm, but added extra oils and bubbles to make it feel more luxurious. The lights were off but a few candles were lit and your phone played 90s R&B. You snapped a pic of your soapy legs and sent it to Chris. Within a few minutes you had a reply.

Chris: My brother better not be in there

Y/N: I’m all alone

Chris: We can’t have that

You heard the door open and you scolded yourself for not locking the door. This text conversation seemed to be heading into rated R territory. You did not need Scott to witness that.

“Scott,” you drawled out. “I’m not wearing my suit tonight. Get out of here.”

When you heard the distinct sound of a belt buckle, you turned around. Rather than Scott dropping his pants, it was Chris.

You gasped, mouth hanging open.

“Room for one more sweetheart?”

You nodded your head unable to form words but those tears had no trouble forming.

Chris continued to undress while you tried your best to compose yourself. He joined you a moment later slipping in behind you.

“How? I thought you were working.”

“I put in some long hours so that I could get to you. I was miserable without you.”

“I know that feeling,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest. Chris lightly rubbing your stomach before sliding his hands up to your breasts, fingers tips rubbing against your nipples. “Babe, did you lock the door?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, I got Scott another room.”

You reached your left hand behind you grabbing on to Chris’ head bringing his mouth to yours. Chris kissed you deeply, your back automatically arching at the taste of his tongue.

“Was he mad?” you asked.

“I don’t even care,” he replied, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Neither do I.”

Tagging: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @xoxabs88xox @heartislubbingdubbing @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @ab-baybay @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @dangerouslovefanfic@kelbabyblue @sweetlittlegingy @dont-need-another-fandom @chrisevansforever @evansxxx @southerngracela @bitterstar88 @squirrelnotsam @kitkatd7 @marvelislove10 @the-doctors-fallen-angel @hista-girl @cocomel0613 @also-fangirlinsweden @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries​ @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7​ @lakamaa12​ @deidrashouseofpain @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @zestygingergirl @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee

[scarlets-maximoff]

Hollywood Wonder

Just a little drabble for my good friend Moon! Love ya hon <3333

- @caitlinsnow-yayyy

“Alright people, take five and then we’re gonna do this scene in one take!”

The sound of the director made Wanda shrivel up slightly - yes, all of her scenes had been done well up to this point, but she was still so nervous in this massive world called Hollywood. She was fresh on the scene, and could easily be cast to the side like anyone else at the signature of her agent’s pen.

So, as she wandered around the set for a place to sit, her tap shoes click-clacking against the hardwood floor as she moved with as much briskness these heels would allow, she almost ran into someone.

“Oh!” she squeaked. “O-Oh my, I-I’m so sorry madam!”

And then, the actress she had run into turned to face her.

Agatha freakin Harkness - an icon in the world of tap dancing, which she sought to model herself after.

Offfff course.

“Oh, no sweat, dearie!” Agatha laughed aloud. “I completely understand - all this hustle and bustle has got us movin’ around like a jackrabbit jacked up on morphine.”

Wanda didn’t really understand the comparison, but oh well, it was her dancing idol. Was she really gonna question her? “I-I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Wanda smiled nervously. “Before the big dance break scene.”

“Oh, you’re in it too?” Agatha asked. “Lovely! There’s a futon right over there we can relax on before the big number anyway.”

Wanda had no idea how she had missed that very comfy-looking futon, but she didn’t care now - it was there and that’s what mattered. She flopped backwards onto the soft surface, and Agatha joined her.

“So, what’s your story, mornin’ glory?” Agatha asked. “Tell me everything you’re comfy with and then some.”

Normally Wanda wouldn’t have even wanted to make conversation with a person who would lead a conversation with that sentence, but she was so enthralled that her idol was actually speaking with her that she told her entire story of how she came to Hollywood after working as a waitress in several surrounding restaurants.

“Wow, you certainly built yourself up,” Agatha smirked. “Look at you now - latest cutie on the block that all the casting directors want in their movies!”

Wanda blushed. “O-Oh, I-I don’t know about all that… that’s incredibly sweet of you, though.”

“Well it’s nothing if not the truth!” Agatha smiled. “The only things I haven’t seen to admire of you are those feet you got down there - you ready to shake a leg or two?”

“Oh gosh, I hope so,” Wanda muttered. “It’s my first big dance break, so I’m terribly nervous, as expected of any newbie… just like the rest of em…”

“Well you’re not afraid to admit it,” Agatha said, “so that sets you apart already. And what if I helped you out?”

“Oh? How would you?” Wanda inquired.

“Just tap along to what I’m doing,” Agatha smiled. “Let your feet follow mine - I guarantee it’ll go swimmingly!”

Suddenly, the director called for the ensemble to gather at the set. Agatha stood up, and held out her hand. “You ready for some tap dancin’, pumpkin pants?”

Wanda may have still been nervous, but this newfound friendship with her dancing idol was helping to soothe those nerves quite a bit. 

She smiled, and accepted her hand. “Let’s do this.”

-0-

Long story short, the tap dancing went swimmingly.

The whole time, Agatha subtly guided Wanda through the motions and made sure she didn’t trip over her own feet - it had happened one too many times, and Agatha had seen too many poor ladies and gents sacked for it. 

She wasn’t gonna let that happen to her new favorite dancing partner - yes, she had only known Wanda for like half an hour and she was already her favorite, and what of it?

Anyway, it was quite a magical little moment - they were just swinging, tapping, and having fun. It was almost like the cameras weren’t even rolling at that point!

But after the cut was called, both took a deep, long breath together. As fun as tap dancing was, it was also very tiring.

“Whoo!” Wanda said. “I don’t, hoo, know about you, but that was delightful! Yet also, I ache all over now…”

“Oh, but it was worth it,” Agatha chuckled, dabbing her forehead. “Listen, sweetie, I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap. What say you?”

Wanda blushed a bit. “U-Uhm, w-where exactly would we nap?”

“Hows bout that futon we bonded on earlier?” Agatha smiled.

Wanda managed to convince herself this was all innocent banter, and agreed to go seek out the place of rest. They found it with relative ease, and Wanda took off her tap shoes, laying them next to the couch. Agatha kept hers on, only fueling Wanda’s slowly brewing conspiracy she was secretly unable to remove them because of magic.

“You did really well,” Agatha said softly. “I’m really proud of ya, toots.”

“Mmm… thanks…” Wanda whispered, already finding herself lulling to sleep. The previous night had mostly been spent tossing and turning, so sleep sounded very attractive right now to her.

“Hope we can tap again sometime,” Agatha continued, “your feet were movin like nobody’s business! It was quite impressive if I-”

She was interrupted by a snore. Looking to her side, she noticed Wanda had leaned her head back, and was now fast asleep.

Not wanting Wanda to undoubtedly wake up with a crick in her neck from that awful sleeping position, Agatha tucked her arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her over to her shoulder. 

Yes, this was totally a gesture done completely and exclusively out of friendship and goodwill - why do you ask?

...Though, she had to admit, she was quite a sleeping beauty.

Agatha couldn’t shake the feeling she was gonna like this one a lot.

[a-r-t-h-u-r-m-o-r-g-a-n]

Desperate Times

Word Count: 6.6K 

Warnings: Angst, mention of domestic abuse, smut, language, violence. (wow sorry guys.)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Plot: Arthur takes up a Bounty Poster. It’s for you, he’s been promised a very handsome reward for bringing you in.

Notes: I really couldn’t stop once I started writing, if the response is good, maybe I’ll work on a part two? 

Arthur Morgan left the sheriffs office and mounted his horse, taking out the poster once more, just to be sure he knew where he was going.

The last known location of (Y/N) was outside of Annesburg, he was in Valentine. It was gonna be a long trip there and back, so he made a stop at the local general store, buying the appropriate provisions, before heading out. He’d been told you were very dangerous, but wanted alive. He’d questioned how dangerous, because to be honest, you didn’t appear threatening in the poster. Maybe ten years younger than he, and ten times more beautiful. But the sheriff and his deputies insisted, saying, “(Y/N) murdered her husband, stepfather, and burned the families house to the ground, leaving her mother with absolutely nothing, causing the poor women to commit suicide. When the first batch of law caught up to her, she gunned them down and disappeared once again.”

Arthur didn’t ask any more questions, wasn’t any of his business anyhow. All he needed to know, was the reward for bringing you in, and it was a big one. Sitting at two hundred dollars. He figured just for a bounty being brought in alive, it was a piece of cake.

You got wind of a bounty hunter asking for you. You overheard a few riders as you packed up camp that morning, discussing the prize for bringing you in, but also the risk. Which made you smirk. You’d chosen this life, and you’d spent four years preparing for it. You’d be damned if a couple of bounty hunters or deputies took it from you. But if there was already men looking for you in Annesburg, it was definitely time to move on.

You finished packing up your camp before mounting your beautiful Kentucky Saddler, and headed northeast. Your plan was to find a nice quiet spot on a mountain, live out your life in peace, and never look back. You’d done what you needed to do, and if no one understood that? To hell with them.

After about an hour into your travels, you noticed two riders ahead of you. You made sure to keep your head down as you continued onward, already veering Jesabelle to the side to pass with no issue. As you grew closer, your eyes peered up under your hat to judge the situation. They were definitely paying close attention to you. Your six shooter burned against your side, ready to be drawn and shot.

As you passed, one of them spoke. “S’cuse me ma’am. Do you happen to have a smoke?”

“No.” You responded plainly, continuing on. You heard the shift in the horses hooves as they turned to follow you. Great.

“Not even a hello?” The other spoke with a laugh. “You look familiar, do we know you?”

“I think we do William, I think this is (Y/N)-“ He didn’t even get out your last name and you had your weapon drawn and a shot fired right into his skull. You aimed it at the other, apparently named William, who raised his hands as his horse panicked under him.

“I-I’ll go, I didn’t see you. Please.” The look in his eyes was that of pure desperation.

“It’s not personal.” You exclaimed, firing the second shot and watching him fall to the ground as his horse took off. You slid off Jesabelle and moved over to the men, checking their pockets. You came up with six dollars and a pack of smokes, as well as some ammo for your pistol. You began moving the bodies off the road, and using your boots to kick dirt over the blood. Just in time too, another rider was coming behind you. But this one was slow moving, no doubt out for just a ride. You mounted back up, and took off at a slow gallop.

You covered a lot of ground before finding a suitable spot to camp for the night. You prepared some dinner, popped open your last bottle of whiskey, and settled in for the evening. Your eyes watched the stars above you, appreciating the constant that was the nights sky. Always so bold and beautiful, always changing but always appearing the same.

You heard the snap of a twig and your gun was drawn in a matter of moments as you pointed it in the direction of the sound. “Whoa!” You heard a voice call out, and then a man came into the light. “I didn’t mean to startle ya miss. I’m simply finding a place to move my camp to. There’s a bear out here, too dark to track it, and I don’t really wanna get eatin’ in my sleep.”

You looked him over, he had a kind enough face, and he was looking right at you without asking if you were someone he knew. Still, could never be too careful. “Move on then.” You said, pointing your pistol in the direction he’d been heading in.

“Thing is, I ain’t got no food, would ya mind?”

Again, you looked him over. Two pistols on either hip. His horse came up behind him, a few repeaters and a rifle. This was a traveling man, no doubt. Could be a bounty hunter, but most were so eager to collect their bounty. Ah hell, you could do with some good karma after the day you had.

“Sure.” You said dismissively. “Holster on your horse though. Then I lower the gun.”

“You make the rules.” He said as he took his holster off. “I’ve learned not to bite the hand that feeds ya.” He rested his holster over his saddle and moved forward once you lowered your gun, keeping it at the ready, however. “Foods in the pot. It ain’t much, but you can have the rest.”

The man moved towards the pot and helped himself. You took notice how he didn’t really take any double glances at you, he just seemed appreciative for the food. “What’s your name?” You asked, watching him carefully.

“Arthur Morgan.” He spoke as he ate, still not looking at you. Perhaps he was just hungry. “Yours?” He asked, finally letting his eyes find yours. And it seemed like there was something behind them, some sort of secret, you weren’t sure.

“(F/N).” You said plainly, giving him a fake name, just in case.

“Well, (F/N), I thank ya for the food. I’ll be on my way.” He tipped his hat and moved back to his horse.

“Head Southwest.” You said after him, causing him to turn and look at you again. “Tons of tree cover, and that bear of yours is movin’ North. I tracked it earlier just to be safe.”

“Again, thank you.” You watched him saddle up and head out, actually missing a little company for once. You hadn’t had any in so long, being on the run, it was nice to talk to someone without them recognizing you. But you’d chosen this life, you set yourself up for loneliness, might as well get used to it. After awhile, you settled in for the night, keeping your eyes on the stars as you lay flat on your back. You kept your pistol at the ready, before drifting off into sleep.

The next morning, something felt off. Wrong. You made your coffee, your senses on high alert as you began packing away your camp. Even Jesabelle seemed to know something was wrong. You made quick work of putting everything away, and right as you were about to pull yourself onto your saddle, a rope went around your middle and yanked you backwards.

You let out a string of curse words as you felt the ropes tighten, and a figure stood above you. “You?!” Arthur Morgan unceremoniously pulled you over so you were on your stomach, and he tied your hands and your feet before picking you up. “You son of a bitch! I fed you!”

“And again, I thank you for that.”

“Wait!” You shouted, your eyes catching sight of Jesabelle. “My horse!” He kept walking. “Oh have some fucking decency! I’ve had her since I was a kid, at least take her into town and put her in a stable for me!”

You heard the man sigh as he dropped you to the ground and went to fetch Jesabelle. You hadn’t expected him to actually agree to it. He lead her over to his horse, before tying her reigns to his saddle, and then headed over to you. He thought for a moment before cutting the ties from your feet, picking you up and put you on Jesabelle. “Now don’t get stupid, you ain’t gonna be able to outrun my horse, and with your hands tied you won’t get very far. You try anything? I leave your horse behind and you can get tossed over the back of mine. Got it? We got a three days ride, I’m bein’ polite by makin’ you comfortable, don’t make me regret it.”

All you did was glare at him, feeling absolutely humiliated and betrayed. “I fed you.” You repeated as he pulled your guns off your horse and holster.

“You did.” He said simply as he pulled himself onto his horse and began moving. You couldn’t believe you’d been so damn stupid. Letting a bounty hunter that close to you, letting him eat your food and move on his way.

“Why didn’t you just take me last night? Instead of coming up with some lie about a bear and being hungry?”

“Because I’d been followin’ you and I knew you was smart. You took out those two boys, you tracked that bear, I knew I had to get the drop on you, what better way than before you finish your morning coffee?” He’d been following you the whole time? You’d seen a rider after taking care of those other bounty hunters, had it been him? “After watching you shoot those fellers without a thought, and given yer crimes against yer own family, I figured I’d be safer watchin’ you and takin’ my shot when the moment was right.”

You didn’t say anything as the two of you rode on. Anger boiling through your being, wishing for any chance of escape, but it really was pointless. Even if you managed to escape into the woods, he’d track you. And with your hands tied behind your back, you wouldn’t get far, you weren’t stupid.

After about an hour, he spoke, “What? No, I’m innocent, don’t take me in, you got it all wrong, let me go?”

You rolled your eyes before tossing a glare at him. “I know what I did, and I’d do it again. I also know when I’m shit out of luck, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk to you.”

“Fine, fine, but I got one question, why?” Arthur turned a look to you, but the look on your face caused him to shake his head. “I’m just curious why a young lady such as yerself would do somethin’ like that.”

“Oh haven’t you heard, Mr. Morgan? Us ladies are crazy. Hysterical.”

He shook his head again before dismissing your sarcastic response with a wave of his hand.

After another several hours, you heard hooves behind you two. You tossed a look over your shoulder and noticed a group of four making their way quickly to you both. “Looks like you ain’t the only one lookin’ to bring me in.”

Arthur nodded without looking back. “They’ve been followin’ us awhile now. Guess they decided nows their moment.” You watched as he steadied his hand on his six shooter, and in a matter of seconds the men were in front of you, turning their horses around to block the road.

“I believe you’ve got our bounty, mister.” One of them said with a grin on his face. And you recognized him instantly, bringing a smile to yours.

“You again? Figured you’d given up after our last run in. How many of you did I kill? Six? Seven?”

“Don’t matter missy, you ain’t got a gun this time.”

“No, but he does.”

“Look fellas, move along. Trust me.” Arthur spike lowly, his hand tight on his gun. “I ain’t got your bounty, you’re after mine. I don’t want no trouble, so keep ridin’.”

“We’ve been after her for weeks. She ain’t yours to take in.”

“Sounds like she is, if she was able to drop six of you and it only took one of me to get ‘er, I think I’ve earned the right to take her in.” It took all of a second and Arthur had shot two bullets into two of their heads. The other two raised their hands instantly. “Now. Move along. I see either of yer faces again? I won’t be so kind.”

You watched as they raced away. “Nice shooting.” He holstered his pistol and continued forward. “You know, it’s polite to thank someone for a compliment.”

He side eyed you for a moment before turning back to the road. You rolled your eyes and let the two of you continue on in silence.

Once evening rolled around, Arthur took to setting up a camp for the night. Once he got it all set up, he got you off your horse and set you down, tying your legs together before switching the ties on your hands to bring them around to your front. “Aw, you worried about my comfort, cowboy?” You chided.

“No.” His tone was gruff as he finished off the knot. “Ya can’t eat with yer hands behind yer back. I ain’t havin’ you die before I get you back to Valentine.”

“Oh, Valentine is where you’re taking me? Strange. Not Saint Denis?”

“Why would it be Saint Denis?” Arthur moved to his horse, taking out an assortment of vegetables and what appeared to be a small piece of venison.

“Cause that’s where I killed them. The cities finest sheriff and his deputy!” You laughed as Arthur moved to get the venison over the fire.

“Maybe Valentine is offering the reward and you’ll hang in Saint Denis. I don’t much care about anything but the money.”

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll get you double what they’re offering you. Just cut me loose.”

Arthur laughed, “And get shot? I’d rather keep my heart pumpin’.”

“I know a few ways to get your heart pumpin’.” You flashed him a grin.

“I bet you do.” He said shaking his head before moving to you and placing a carrot in your hand.

“What, no venison for me?” He didn’t say anything as he moved back to the fire. “Come on, Arthur, if that’s your real name. Humor me at least a little.”

“I thought you said you knew when you were shit outta luck? That there was no point askin’ me to let you go?”

You shrugged as you leaned back against the tree he had propped you against. “Makin’ conversation. Besides, I know I’m shit outta luck, figure it wouldn’t hurt to offer you somethin’. I’d rather not die. What if you were in my shoes, Arthur? What if you were on your way to the rope? You ain’t a good man. For one, you’re a bounty hunter. Two, you shot those men without blinking.”

“Never said I was a good man, but I wouldn’t have gotten caught. And I wouldn’t have killed my family.”

“Stepfather.” You corrected.

“And yer husband.”

“Neither counts as family. Neither were blood, and I was forced into that marriage by my stepfather. Don’t pretend to know me.”

“Forced? I don’t see how someone like you could be forced into anything you don’t want. You ain’t that weak.”

Anger took over your features and heat flushed to your face, your mouth moving before your head could catch up with it. “Believe me, I’ll never be forced into anything ever again. I grew up watching that man come home drunker than sin and beat my ma. Beat her senseless every fucking night. When I got older I tried to step in, stop it from happening, but then he’d turn on me. And all I kept thinking was at least he wasn’t hitting her. And then? My ma got angry with me for begging her to leave him. She got angry with me because I stood up for her. Because she swore he loved her. So when I became too much of a problem, he married me off. To his deputy. His best friend. And then he took to hitting me too. So I learned. I learned how to shoot, I learned how to hunt, all while he was at work. And then finally I did what I had to do. So don’t assume to know anything about me. Don’t assume I’m weak. You know nothing, Arthur Morgan.” You looked away from him, unable to see the soft expression that came over his features. You were breathing heavily just thinking about it. “They got what they deserved. I’m only sorry what my ma did to herself. But at least she’s in a better place now.”

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t expecting those words, and you weren’t expecting the genuine tone that came with them.

Your eyes found his, but you had to look away. You hated feeling vulnerable. “Yeah.” Was your only response as you moved as best you could around the tree so you wouldn’t have to look at him. Your eyes found the stars, feeling the peace they always gave you wash over you. You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to take you.

————————————————

The next morning, you felt so stiff. Sleeping in an upright position against a tree would do that. You stretched your arms above your head, bringing them back down to your sides, and then your eyes snapped open. No ropes? You weren’t tied. You scrambled to your feet, looking down and then looking around, to see Arthur packing up the rest of his things. He noticed you were awake and he gave you a nod. “I put your guns back on yer horse there.”

“Why?” You asked, unable to say anything else.

He shrugged. “You were right, they deserved it. No one should live a life like that, and you got out of it. I ain’t gonna be the one who makes you swing for survivin’.”

You ran your hands over your wrists, as if still disbelieving he was letting you go. “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all you could say. You moved over to Jesabelle, running your hand over her before pulling yourself up. Should you say more? Was there anything else to say? Did you have anything to give him? All you had was your guns and some food. And a pack of cigarettes you’d gotten off those bounty hunters the day before you met him. You took them out of your saddle bag and tossed them to him. “Wish I had more.”

You clicked your spurs into Jesabelle and headed off, keeping her at a soft gallop as you headed northeast. You still couldn’t believe he let you go. Wasn’t it for the money? Just a job? Wasn’t he just another man in it for the reward? Plenty of the men you’d come in contact with knew your story, because you had pleaded it to the town, but no one believed you. Because a sheriff wouldn’t do that. A law man wouldn’t do what you claimed they were doing. But he believed you. He’d been the first.

Interrupting your thoughts, were several gunshots coming from behind you. Without a thought, you spun Jesabelle around and took off towards the shots, drawing your weapon as you got closer, hopping off Jesabelle and giving her a slap to flee. You moved quickly, taking up cover behind a tree as you looked out to assess the situation. It was the men that had been with the ones Arthur had shot. They’d brought more. You fired several shots, letting Arthur know he had help, and letting the other men know they weren’t fighting one man.

It was only a matter of minutes, between the way the two of you shot, it wasn’t long before they were all dealt with. You came out of cover, and so did Arthur. When he saw you, a look of surprise passed over his features. You shrugged. “You saved my life. I owed you one.”

“Well. Thank you.” Arthur said with a nod. “They was lookin’ for you.”

“They always are.” You said, holstering your gun before letting out a whistle for Jesabelle.

“Where you gonna go?”

“Northeast. Find a nice quiet spot on a mountain.”

“Alone?”

You shrugged. “I got no other choice.”

“They’ll keep comin’.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, Morgan, you’re doing a terrible job. You regretting letting me go? Think I’ll be better off dead?”

“No. I’m only sayin’ bein’ alone ain’t always the safest. You could come with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry?”

“I got family. We’d keep you safe. Eventually they’ll stop lookin’ for you. Or at least less people’ll be lookin’.”

“You want to take me in, like some sort of lost puppy, just like that?”

“Look, I ain’t callin’ you a lost puppy. But you know how to shoot, you know how to take care of yerself, and you got no one. That’s all ya really need to be one of us. Family is important. Unless you think yer safer alone?”

You knew he was right. Course he was. “I can’t bring my baggage into your lives.”

“Trust me, we all got baggage, you won’t be any different. And most of the baggage we got, it ain’t for as good of a reason as yours, believe me.” You remained quiet, weighing your options. Sure, living alone on some mountain wasn’t exactly how you expected your life to turn out, but you knew that was going to be a small price to pay, given what you had to do. “I ain’t tryin’ to force you, or pressure you, I just know the life of an outlaw, and believe me, it’s better when you got a gang behind you.”

You wanted to say yes, but getting caught up with others, you didn’t want anything bad to happen because of you. Still, he made valid points, and if anything went wrong, you could always leave. “Alright.” You said with a nod, and the two of you were off.

————————————————

About a month had gone by, and you didn’t know what it meant to have a home, but you knew this was it. You’d settled in to Clemens Point quickly, and everyone accepted you just as quickly, once Arthur vouched for you. You’d inadvertently stuck by Arthur, he’d been the only one you knew for awhile, and the two of you managed to get along just fine. He was your favorite to run jobs with, not just because of his skill, but because the two of you working together was what Hosea liked to call the dream team.

You were both riding out for a simple house robbery, a tip he’d gotten earlier that day, the family was out of town, so it was going to be easier than pie, and the family was loaded. Huge house, too much money than they deserved. The two of you waited for nightfall, just to be on the safe side, before leaving the horses in the woods and heading up to the house. Arthur made quick work of picking the lock, and you were in. You headed upstairs while Arthur took the downstairs, pocketing everything that was of value, and looking for the safe that apparently held all the money. As you looked, you heard heavy and quick footsteps racing up the stairs. “I know we’re alone but you really should learn how to-”

Arthur clamped a hand over your mouth and pulled you into the closet, pulling the door closed behind you. “What the hell?” You asked through his hand, but he brought a finger to his lips. You heard the front door open, and footsteps sounded downstairs.

“We ain’t the only ones trying to score here.” He said quietly.

“So let’s take ‘em out!” You hissed at him, but he simply shook his head.

“Ten of ‘em, at least, we start shootin’, we ain’t far from neighbors. The law’ll be on us too quickly. Better to just wait.”

“And when they come to search upstairs? They’re gonna check the closet.”

“Not if they think it’s locked, now quiet.” He hissed, his hand holding firmly onto the door handle, and that’s when you realized his other hand was around your waist. You suddenly felt hot, and tried to slightly pull away, but your back was against a wall, and you realized how small this closet actually was.

It seemed at that moment is when he realized where his hand was and he pulled it back, only to let his elbow hit the wall. He cursed under his breath as he moved it back to your side. “Sorry.” He rumbled, and you could feel the vibration in his voice. You could feel the heat rise between you two, as you both realized your situation.

Footsteps sounded towards the stairs, and you took in a breath as the two of you stood there, pressed against each other, unable to say or do anything. His grip tightened on the door handle as the footsteps entered the room you were in, and began ransacking the place. You couldn’t figure out if you were scared you were both going to be found out, or if it was because you were pressed so closely to Arthur Morgan. You wouldn’t lie, the way you looked at him and started to change over the last month. How could it not? He was the kindest man you’d ever met, even if he tried to hide it under that gruff exterior. But you’d never let it show, never let it known, because you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. You had Hosea and discussed Arthur and his past, and he’d simply lost too much. He’d never let himself trust anyone that way again, understandably.

A loud crash brought you back to reality as you jumped against Arthur, whose hand tightened on your waist as you jumped, sending heat through you. “We got it!” One of them shouted as another crash sounded, and then what seemed to sound like him prying open a lock box. “There’s gotta be close to two grand here!”

“Well bring it down!” A voice sounded from downstairs. “Let’s get outta here!”

You heard the man leave, some loud cheering, and then the house was quiet. Neither of you moved, and you knew it was because you wanted to make sure they were gone, but you also didn’t want to be the first to pull away. You let out a shaky breath, wishing you could see his face, but it was too dark in the closet. His hand remained tight on your waist, as the two of you listened for any sign that the others hadn’t left.

After what felt like a lifetime, Arthur turned the door handle, and moonlight spilled into the closet as he moved his hand from your waist and walked out. You suddenly felt cold as you followed him, trying to let him see how nervous you’d gotten. It was silly, to get so worked up over something like that. “I think we’re alright.” He said lowly, looking out the window. “They’ve gone. With the money. Dammit, this woulda been a good score.”

You nodded with him, unable to say anything, because all you could think was how that had been nothing to him. You had to figure something out, stop thinking of him in that way. “You alright?” Your eyes found his, his brow creased as he looked at you.

“Yeah, great, just, ya know. Wish we coulda found the money first.” You cleared your throat, looking around the room. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much more value here. Might as well head out.”

“Sure.” His tone told you he knew you weren’t being entirely honest. You led the way out of the house and back to the horses.

You heard his footsteps behind you as he spoke, “(Y/N), if I made you at all uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I made a quick decision to keep us safe”

“I know.” You snapped, tossing a look over your shoulder. You sighed, stopping as you turned to face him. “You did nothing wrong, Arthur. I promise, alright? So can we keep moving?” He nodded, following behind you as you moved forward again. You needed to sort through these feelings, because at this point you knew you were just setting yourself up for disappointment.

————————————————

Another month had gone by, and you’d been distancing yourself from Arthur, because there was no way to stop your feelings for that man. He was kind, passionate, stubborn, headstrong, caring, and it was just too much. He’d noticed, you knew he did, because he’d keep asking you to go on jobs with him, but you’d always come up with an excuse. At first, he seemed fine, but as time went on, and as your excuses became less and less believable, he seemed to purposefully ignore you as well. Which pissed you off, but you did it to yourself.

You were riding alone, needing to just get away for awhile. If it hadn’t been for the connections you’d made back at camp, you would just move on. You’d fallen, and you’d fallen hard. Even after having barely any contact with Arthur Morgan, you always looked forward to seeing him, and you always caught yourself watching him. No matter how hard you tried, he’d snaked his way into your heart, and it seemed he was there to stay.

As you rode, you noticed someone was tailing you. You began making random turns on the paths, but they followed you each time. You needed to run. You clicked your spurs into Jesabelle sharply, and she took off. The rider behind you did the same, and you did your best to lose him, before realizing another rider joined behind him. And then another. There were three of them. You pulled out your gun and fired several shots, none of them finding their mark as you pushed your horse faster and faster.

Arthur’s warnings of you riding alone was all that you could hear. It had been two months, you had been hopeful they had stopped looking for you. You turned and fired two more shots, one hitting a man in the shoulder, and he fell off his horse. As you turned to face forward again, another two more riders were blocking the path, you tugged on Jesabelle’s reigns, trying to change direction quickly, but it only resulted in her loosing her footing, and the two of you hit the ground hard. The wind was knocked out of you, and you scrambled for your pistol, but you felt a kick in your side instead.

“Looks like we finally caught up to you, (Y/N).” You looked up, and you recognized the man as one of the officers from Saint Denis. “You’re gonna hang tomorrow.”

Suddenly, red filled your vision as the man fell to the ground. You heard several more shots before you were able to pull yourself to your feet, seeing Arthur and John riding up to you. “(Y/N)!” John shouted. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, still catching your breath from the fall as the two of them pulled to a stop and got off their horses. Arthur made a beeline towards you, gripping your shoulders tightly. “What did I tell you about ridin’ alone?”

You slapped his hands away. “I was fine! You didn’t give me a chance to be fine!”

“You were on the ground! Surrounded! You weren’t fine, don’t be ridiculous!” Anger was dripping off his words like venom, which only made your blood boil.

“I don’t need you to save me, Arthur!” You shouted, “I can take care of myself!”

“Whoa guys, calm down.” You and Arthur both tossed a glare towards John, which made him throw up his hands. “Alright, alright, I’ll see myself back to camp.”

You watched him leave before turning your glare back to Arthur. “You got anything else you wanna yell at me? Or are we done here?” You asked, your eyes remaining steady with his.

“No. We’re done.” He growled, moving back towards his horse.

“Figures.” You mumbled as you moved towards Jesabelle.

“What was that?” He asked after you.

“Nothing.” You shouted over your shoulder, continuing to move to Jesabelle who had run into the woods. Right passed the tree line, before you could mount Jesabelle, you felt a hand spin you around. Your eyes found Arthur’s, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“You coulda died.” He said lowly. “They woulda taken you to swing, don’t that mean anything to you?” Your eyes searched his, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“I woulda gotten away.”

“But what if you hadn’t? I need to know whats goin’ on, (Y/N). You quit talkin’ to me, you run off alone, you yell at me when I save yer ass, what the hell is goin’ on?” His eyes searched yours now, and you noticed his brow creased as they did. You didn’t know what to say to him, you know you hadn’t been fair to him, but what were you supposed to say? Hey, sorry, I realized I was in love with you and had to back off? “If I...” He stopped himself, shaking his head. What was he going to say? “If I had lost you, I don’t know.” His voice was so low, his hands loosening as he let them slide off your shoulders, and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What?” You asked, needing him to finish his sentence. “If you had lost me, what?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I don’t wanna lose you. I feel like I already have. But I don’t know what I would do if you died. So just, just be careful. I know you don’t like me much, I don’t know what I did, so I know I can’t ask much, but just be careful, alright?”

He turned to leave, and your voice started before you could think. “You wanna know what’s goin’ on?” You asked, causing him to turn back to face you. “Why I quit talkin’ to you?” He just stood there, and you knew that was his way of saying yes. “I quit because I just couldn’t anymore, Arthur. I couldn’t spend all that time with you, and not-” Your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it before shaking your head. “You started meaning too much to me. I couldn’t look at you the same, because I knew, I knew it was pointless. But the more time I spent with you, the more I started to feel it. And I just couldn’t anymore, I couldn’t do that to myself, and I couldn’t tell you because I couldn’t put you in that situation. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry that I fell for you. I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it like I should have. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop, I’m sorry-”

Before you could finish, his lips crashed against yours in desperation, and what felt like relief. As if that had been all he had waited to hear. You kissed him back, your hands moving to his back, pulling his torso into yours as your lips matched his in desperation.

He walked you backwards, further into the woods, before your back found a tree, he pressed into you, and you could feel how much he wanted you. You pressed your hips closer to his, causing a groan from his mouth to escape into yours. His hands moved to the sides of your face, before trailing to your neck, all of his movement desperate, finite, passionate. You gripped his back harshly as his fingers found the top button of your shit, working his way down, his fingers grazing your skin as he did so.

He tossed the fabric away, his hand finding your breast, moving over it desperately, his thumb grazing over your nipple, his lips not leaving yours. His hand snaked down your stomach, leaving chills as he went, and he tugged on the button of your pants before sliding his hand under the fabric, finding your center, his fingers slipping between your folds, causing a moan to leave your throat and into his mouth. His fingers discovered your center, moving in soft circles before letting a finger enter you, and then another. You moved your hips, desperate for him.

You moved your hands to his shirt, trying to get the buttons to cooperate, but with his fingers inside of you, your mind wasn’t connected to your hands anymore. You ripped his shirt open, tossing it away and he pressed into you, your skin on fire as you felt his against yours. You let your hand move to the front of his pants, feeling how hard he was for you sent thrills through your body before you undid the button and gripped him, moving your hand over him.

You felt him tremble under your touch, and a low growl found his throat, and it echoed in your very soul. He moved quickly, removing his hand, causing an unexpected whine to leave your throat. You noticed the grin it brought to his face as he lifted you, your legs wrapping around him, your mouth finding his again as he moved the two of you further into the woods, before getting you onto your back. He kicked off his pants before sliding off yours. You watched him take a moment to let his eyes admire you, which caused you to shiver. Once his eyes locked with yours again, his expression changed, and he moved over you, guiding himself to you, and entering you quickly, causing a breathless gasp to escape your throat. He barely gave you time to adjust before he began moving in and out of you.

Your entire being was on fire for him, your knees resting on his hips, your hands entangled in his hair, his breath hot on your neck,. There was nothing else in this world except the two of you, here and now. Nothing else mattered, because nothing else existed.

Your moans matched his thrusts, your skin hot, your breathing ragged, as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. Your hands moved to his back, gripping him sharply, and he knew what it meant. He picked up his pace, your hips matching his, moving in perfect rhythm together. He moved up just a tad, his eyes finding yours, watching you. As you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You felt your body succumb under him, and the corners of his lips turned up as you rode out your pleasure. A few more hard thrusts, and you felt him empty himself inside of you.

His forehead fell into your shoulder, his breathing matched your labored breaths, your hands moving back up to his hair, running your fingers through it as you closed your eyes, basking in the leftover ecstasy. After a few moments, he pulled himself off of you, sitting on the wooded floor, his eyes watching you. You pulled yourself up, sitting next to him, unsure of what to say. Your eyes found his, and you felt a smile pull at your lips. “What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothin’.” His voice low, a smile on his lips and in his words. He lifted a hand, pulling a leaf out of your hair. “Just wish I had the balls to do that sooner.”

“You and me both.” You said with a laugh.  

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

Hunters of Flesh and Money Part 4 Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fletcher has requested help from Arthur in dealing with a nuisance.

TW: violence 

The heat is ON boys! This is becoming one of my favorite works and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have!

Part 3 

Part 5

Master list

The sun was blinding and the streets of Saint Denis were bustling and busy. The sooner you could leave the city the better. If it were up to you, you would’ve skipped the noisy city all together but Cripps had a buyer and as he says, money is money. It was a needed trip, after an easy delivery you were able to make it over to the tailor to replace your torn raggedy garments that were destroyed in your run in with the wolves.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, this muggy heat didn’t agree with you- but neither did the pungent smells of civilization or the constant noise of chaos. The wagon was parked just across the street from the tailor, you rubbed your temples as you descended the stairs, your head was throbbing. Your eyes were on the ground and you didn’t even see the man until you crashed into his chest. “Oof! Sorry bout-“

“Fletcher?”

When you looked up, a familiar face was smiling down at you from under the brim of his hat. You returned his smile, “well, if it isn’t Mr. Morgan. What brings an outlaw like you into the big city?”

He scoffed, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged, “had to run a delivery for my business partner. Decided I’d stop and grab some new clothes while I was around.”

“How ya healin’ after that by the way? Ain’t seen ya since we did that job together.”

You gave him a thumbs up, “healed up just fine.” You gave him a look over and he looked better than you remembered. His clothes looked newer and he looked more cleaned up- his beard was trimmed and styled and his hair wasn’t so wild. His sleeves were rolled to accommodate to the southern heat and you couldn’t help but notice his strong forearms. You cleared your throat in an attempt to pull your mind from the gutter. “I told you my business here, how bout yours?”

He rubbed his neck, “oh, just runnin’ round for Dutch. I actually just stepped out for a drink and some air.” He paused. “New business partner, huh? What kinda business are you runnin’ outlaw?”

You smirked, “wouldn’t you like to know.” Your eyes flickered to the late afternoon sky and an idea came to mind. “Actually, would you like to know?”

“Well I just asked, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be a smart ass. Come with me.”

He followed behind to your wagon and whistled for his horse. As the two of you climbed up you began to explain. “An old friend a mine who travels with me had the idea.” You flicked the reins and the wagon lurched forward. Arthur’s Arabian followed close behind. “Ya! He’s got a talent for makin’ things and I got a talent for killin’ things. I bring him animals and skins and he turns ‘em into... well anything really. When it’s time to sell to a buyer I take the supplies and deliver.”

Arthur raised his brow, “sounds like you’re the work horse of the operation.”

“It ain’t a big deal. I like huntin’ and not every delivery is easy. Between bandits and rival traders Cripps probably woulda been shot by now if I let him do the deliveries.”

Arthur tried to ignore the pang of annoyance. You had never mentioned traveling with another man, now you’re running a trade route with him? He shouldn’t care, you’re just another woman he’s met on his travels. A beautiful woman, who can fend for herself as well as he can. “Jesus!” He cursed as you ran over a rock and the wagon shuttered and jumped as if it was about to fall apart.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “sorry.”

His gaze remained on you as you turned your attention back to the road. A beautiful, rough living woman- who can’t drive a wagon to save her life. The ride to your camp wasn’t long- set up in Scarlet Meadows just between Rhodes and Saint Denis.

“It ain’t much,” You said as you climbed down the side of the wagon. “But its home. Can’t keep too much, we move camps every couple days.”

Arthur was impressed- what did you mean ain’t much? For two people the campsite was huge and flourishing! “Yall are really movin’ all this every couple days?”

“Ol’ Cripps is usually the one who does all the movin’. But I didn’t bring ya here to discuss living arrangements.” You took a seat beside the fire and beckoned for Arthur to join. As you talked you skinned the rabbits you had killed that morning. “I brought ya here to discuss business. Ol’ Cripps is out of tannin’ supplies and I need to go grab some more before nightfall. Usually it’s more than easy enough for just one man on the job. But I’ve acquired a bothersome business rival.” You paused to cut a piece of meat from the rabbit carcass and cook it over the fire. “He’s costin’ me some real money. I’ve had Cripps move us every day and he still finds us. Haven’t been able to get Cripps supplies ina coupla weeks now.”

Arthur raised his brow, “One man is givin’ you this much trouble?”

Your lip curled in disgust. “He’s got an...annoying specialty.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What kinda speciality?”

“You’ll see.” You handed him a piece of cooked meat and picked up the skins. You gave him a quick nod to follow. “Cripps!” You shouted. The man looked up from his butcher’s table.

Arthur felt relief when he saw the older man look up from his table. The man looked at least Uncle’s age and when you slapped the rabbit skins down, the exchange of smart ass comments and passive aggressive insults eased his looming jealousy. Arthur wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, he watched the way your face contorted and twisted to show every emotion and the fierce fire behind your eyes. Stubborn, hot headed, and ready to beat the every living hell out of a man- he liked that. He straightened his back when you turned back to him.

“You comin’?” You asked as you passed him, walking in the direction of the hitching posts.

“Awright I’m comin’. We not takin’ your wagon?”

“Naw, well take the horses this time. In case that bastard comes after us again I ain’t losin’ a whole carts worth of supplies- that would send me into bankruptcy!” You fed Garbanzo a carrot before mounting him and Arthur mounted his steed as well.

“Let’s ride!” You shouted, and your horse shot out like a bullet.

Arthur rose beside you easily. Your horse cast a shadow over his, but his girl was built for speed, not power. “Where we headed?”

“We’ll pick up the supplies from the general store in Rhodes. I want to try and stay off the trails as much as possible, let’s turn off here.”

Arthur clicked his tongue and the two of you cut off into the trees. The pace slowed slightly as to not run into trees.

“Keep on the lookout for a rider with an all black Arabian, he usually keeps a bandana over his face.” You called to Arthur. “And keep your gun on hand at all times, he has a nasty habit a comin’ outta no where.”

Arthur nodded and pulled his new guns from their holsters- two brand new semi auto pistols.

You eyed them and nodded, “those new? I ain’t seen you packin’ anything like that.”

He nodded and smiled smugly. “Ain’t even used ‘em yet.”

You returned his sinister smile as you pulled your golden Mausers from your side and nodded. “Well maybe today will be yer day.”

Arthur kept a watchful eye as the pair rode through Scarlet Meadows. Carefully scanning every cliff, rock, nook, or cranny that could hide the potential bandit. As you passed the red barn and Rhodes came into view, Arthur relaxed. “Looks like your friend may not show his face today.”

You shook your head. “He’s not tryin’ to kill us, he’s tryin’ to get our supplies. He ain’t gonna try to touch us til after we leave.”

Arthur nodded. Your adrenaline began pumping as you entered the town- the streets were damn near barren but that’s nothing new for this dusty little town. It still made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. As you loaded the supplies on the horses, Arthur kept a watchful eye on the surroundings. You had to admit, it was nice to have company on the ride and the additional set of eyes was helpful as well.

As quickly as the two of you entered town, you were now booking it back in the direction of camp. Your hands were sweating around the grip of your pistols now. If you lost this round of supplies Cripps would be out completely and you had already lost two different suppliers for “being irresponsible with product.” You worried this little cash cow you had made for yourself was going to run dry. You kept your eyes forward and cleared your mind- you had to be ready.

Arthur’s eyes scanned the cliffs around him- his eyes narrowed as he spotted a lone rider. His eyes couldn’t distinguish much, but as the rider turned and began barreling down towards them, he was certain the horse was black as night. “Rider on the cliff, headed our way!”

“That’s him alright, let’s kill this bastard.”

Arthur pulled his rifle from his back and lined up the scope. His breathing evened and as he focused, time crawled in front of him- this was his specialty. But time around this man did not stop, he was still barreling fullspeed ahead and no matter how hard he tried Arthur couldn’t line up his shot. “What the hell?”

“It’s his specialty, I can’t get a shot on him either, the Slippery Bastard.” You said between gritted teeth. You had been hoping it was just you, but this guy, this slippery bastard couldn’t be aimed at and he was speeding closer and closer to you.

“What the hell are we supposed to do if we can’t get a shot on this guy?” Arthur yelled.

“I don’t know!” You cried.

The slippery bastard barreled down and blew passed, you unloaded your mausers and couldn’t get a single shot. “Shit!”

Arthur had an idea. “Fletcher, lead him up that hill there!”

You nodded, pushing your spurs into Garbanzo you pushed him up and the bastard followed. Bullets whizzed by and you cursed, he never resorted to guns until now. Just as you rode up the top of the hill a bullet hit Garbanzo and he buckled and whinnied in agony. “Banzo!” You cried.

Hot tears welled in your eyes, you grabbed your shotgun from your back and pushed back the tears. You would make this bastard pay for what he’s done. As he shot up the hill, you fired wildly, just one shot of slug would be enough to debilitate him at least if you could just land one single shot! He circled you once, aiming his rifle down at you. When he stopped, you pulled the trigger. The empty clicking of the shotgun made your blood turn cold, out of bullets. Everything seemed to slow as he raised his rifle to you, you didn’t have time to reload or draw your pistols, he was right in front of you and you couldn’t land a damn shot.

Arthur came out of no where, jumping from his speeding horse to tackle the man down from his own horse. The bastard’s shot was knocked high in the air and it shook you to the core.

Arthur hogtied the man easily, outmatching him in strength ten fold. “Awright,” Arthur said proudly as he lifted himself off the man. “Got yer man, what do we do with him?”

After no response, Arthur turned in your direction and his heart dropped. You were on the ground beside Garbanzo, no longer moving. He approached you slowly now, his voice soft. “Fletcher? You okay?”

You sniffled and wiped the tears from your cheeks as you stood. “Yeah,” Your voice broke. “Just tellin’ him bye. He was such a good horse.” Your voice broke again on the last syllable and Arthur moved closer now. He wrapped his arms around you, at first hesitant to how you would react. When you slumped into his arms and wrapped yours around his waist he tightened his grip and buried his face in your hair. This moment was not a long one, but in that moment the world seemed to stop around the two of you and neither of you wanted to pull apart. You were the first to loosen your grip and sighed shakily. When Arthur released you he spoke, “what do you want to do about this guy?”

You remained quiet as you grabbed the reins of his black Arabian. You said no words as you led the horse to its master. Your eyes were cold as you stared him in the face and put a bullet in the head of his horse. The man screamed and cursed as his horse crumpled, his words were muffled by the gag Arthur had placed on him. He was silenced as you placed a bullet between his eyes. Arthur stared in disbelief as you sniffled and wiped your nose a final time before looting the dead body in front of you. You cleared your throat. “Give me a ride back to camp?”

Arthur nodded and didn’t say a word. It was easy to forget this beautiful woman who couldn’t drive a wagon to save her life had almost as high a bounty as him. How many people had she killed? As many as him? More?

You broke the silence. “You mad at me?”

“For what?”

You rolled your eyes. “Killin’ that man and his horse.”

He shrugged. “I done worse.”

You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sure you have.”

By the time the two of you arrived back at camp, the sun had fallen and the night sky was twinkling with stars. Cripps greeted you sarcastically. “The mighty heroes return. Hey, where’s that big horse a yers?”

“Dead.” You threw the bag of supplies at Cripp’s feet. “But we killed that bastard that’s been givin’ us trouble.”

Cripps felt heat rush to his cheeks in embarrassment “oh.”

You sighed, “I need a drink, how bout you Mr. Morgan?”

He scratched his chin, “I dunno, my camp is a good little ride from here-“

You tossed him a bottle of whiskey and he caught it. “I got a spare bedroll, you can stay here tonight.” You opened a bottle of whiskey and drank deeply while staring into the fire. “It would be nice to have a friend to drink with tonight.”

Arthur looked down at the bottle of whiskey and then to you. For the first time, you didn’t look like an outlaw, or a beautiful woman, or a hunter, or a threat. In that moment, you looked tired. You looked like a woman mourning the death of her closest friend- Arthur could relate. He opened the bottle of whiskey as he sat down beside you. “Ya know, I had a horse not too long ago- her name was Boadicea. Gorgeous, fast, most loyal horse I ever had. She got shot in the gun fight when we was fleein’ Blackwater. I think I broke a rib or two in the fall but that didn’t stop me from yankin’ the feller who shot her down from his horse and beatin’ him to death.” He sighed. “They ain’t just animals. They’re smart, Hell I think most of em are smarter than us.” He chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m real sorry bout your horse.”

You gave him a sad smile and leaned into his hand. “S’okay. I reckon I’ll have to ride to the stable tomorrow and pick out a new one.” You scoffed. “The idea of pickin’ out a new horse while grieving is almost insultin’ but it ain’t like I got a choice.” You paused. “I saw your wanted poster when I was down there not long back, what did you do?”

He groaned. “It weren’t even me who did it!” He sighed. “Don’t matter. I don’t think I’ll ever make it back west. Dutch is talkin’ crazy, bout leavin’ the country? I want to believe him but...”

“But that don’t sound like a good plan.”

He chuckled, though he didn’t find any humor in it. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and tipped it towards the sky. “I just want to go home. This land ain’t my home and never will be. The air here is too humid, too much-“

“Civilization?”

He met your eyes and felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself. “Yeah,” he breathed.

You smiled, “I miss it too. I go back when I can, but Cripps says the eastern territories are better for robbin’ and tradin’. I guess he’s right bout that, but it feels like them damn bounty hunters are movin’ in closer and closer.” You took a long gulp of whiskey and it made your stomach hot. “I miss bein’ free.”

“Amen to that.” Arthur raised his whiskey in a cheers and you clinked your bottle against his.

You belched after taking a deep drink of whiskey. “Why don’t we just go back?”

“S’cuse me?”

“Me n you. Cripps could find a new business partner, your gang can go to to whatever country they want. Me n you can sneak back across the West Elizabeth border. We can go anywhere ya like, Hell we could even cross the border to Mexico.” The alcohol had debilitated your thought filter and you felt your cheeks turn hot.

He exhaled a deep breath. “Fletcher that’s...”

“Forget I said anything.” You stammered. “I know it was a stupid idea.” You chuckled nervously, “guess the whiskey is hittin’ me faster than I thought.”

He sighed, “it don’t sound stupid at all, it actually sounds great.” He paused. “But we got people to take care of.” He looked at you with a smile. “It’s a nice dream though, Herbert.”

You choked and spewed out your whiskey, earning a hearty laugh from Arthur. You stared at him in disbelief. “Wha- how did you-?”

Arthur tried to contain his laughter as he pulled a parcel from his satchel and handed it to you. When you opened it, it revealed your wanted poster- and not one with your alias. You tossed it into the fire and crossed your arms.

Arthur wiped the tear from his eye and sighed, “Herbert Fitzgerald, huh?”

“Shut up.” You said in annoyance.

“What the hell kinda name is that for a woman?” He snickered.

“A family name goddamn it! And a name you ain’t ever gonna call me.” You snapped.

Arthur was not intimidated by your lash out in the slightest. “Why? I think it’s a lovely name.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I cain’t believe you found that. Where the hell was it?”

“Riggs Station I believe, buried under bout ten bounty posters.” He took a sip of whiskey. “That’s quite a price you got on yer head, girl.”

“Ya know, I bet my head alone could pay off yer bounty. Why don’t ya try’n turn me in?” You tipped your bottle to the sky and finished off the last drops. “Catch up, Mr. Morgan.”

He followed suit and tossed his now empty bottle. His eyes trailed you as you got up to grab two new bottles. “I don’t foresee it bein’ that easy.”

You gave him a mischievous smile as you leaned down to hand him a new bottle. “I didn’t say I’d let ya, I said you could try.”

Arthur’s eyes were hooked on the way your lips curved around the syllables, your face only inches from his. There was a moment of electricity in the air and suddenly his throat was dry and his mind was not working to form words.

His face was illuminated by the firelight and it made him look almost angelic. His lips looked so soft and supple, his stubble around his cheeks defining his square jawline. You caught his eyes flicker to your lips and the heat swelled behind your cheeks. Your heard was pounding in your chest and all you could think to do was hide. You cleared your throat and sat back down, a good distance between the two of you. With your head spinning from the alcohol you were finding it harder to keep control of your own emotions.

The silence between you felt horribly awkward and heavy to Arthur. Had you noticed his blatant staring? He was certain you couldn’t see how his chest clinched at your close proximity. He felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was thankful when you finally broke the silence.

“Don’t you dare tell Sadie you know my name. She’d kill us both.”

When he braved to look at you, you were smiling kindly to him. A glimmer in your eye he wasn’t quite sure he had ever seen. He just shook his head, “that woman scares the hell outta me. She’s a fighter that one is.”

You nodded. “She’s given me strength more times than I can count.” You looked up at the sky and sighed. “I oughtta be travelin’ with the herds, ya know. That’s how the best traders do it. But I caint bring myself to distance myself from Sadie.” You paused, quite drunk. “I think I quite enjoy your company as well Mr. Morgan.”

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. He wasn’t a confident man, but he was quite certain that there was a hint of flirtatiousness behind your eyes. The liquor didn’t hinder his boldness either. He scooted closer and smirked, “well, I think I’m takin’ to your company too.”

Your head was swimming, he was close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from him. The voice in the back of your head wasn’t screaming to stop now, so you didn’t. You leaned your head against his shoulder, he responded by resting his head on yours.

He held his breath as he slowly inched his fingers closer to yours. When they touched, he felt your body jump slightly and he held his breath. When you didn’t shy away from his touch, his fingers entwined with yours. He let out his breath when you squeezed his hand. His heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. The whiskey was the force pushing him, forcing him to swallow his fears of rejection and reminding him how lonely he’s been over the years. Just the sensation of another hand around his had him feeling light headed. He looked down at you and you were looking up at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and inched his head down slowly.

You were caught in the moment, everything felt floaty and for the first time in god knows how long, you felt a genuine romantic connection with someone. He was moving closer now, and you moved too, you knew you wanted it. But as his eyes closed and his lips were within inches of yours, the voice was back, screaming st you to stop this foolishness. It was loud as a train whistle and you pulled back so fast you almost lost your balance. Guilt bled it’s way through you as you watched him open his eyes, only briefly did his eyes betray his emotions and they were crystal clear: confusion, hurt. He looked at you and you couldn’t meet his gaze. “I-we should uh...it’s gettin’ late.” You mumbled as you stood.

“Oh...okay.” He cleared his throat. “You’re right. You got that spare bedroll?”

“Oh! Ah, yes.” You dug around your tent and grabbed it. When you handed it to him, he grumbled a thanks but didn’t look you in the eye. “Goodnight, Arthur.” You said softly as you turned towards your tent.

“Night.” He called as he unrolled the bedroll beside the fire.

Neither of you slept well that night. You tossed and turned in shame and regret. Why did you pull away like that? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone? But you knew you had to push him away, like everyone else. He was too good for you and the thought of something bad happening to him made your chest seize in pain. You were doing both of you a favor, or at least that’s what you told yourself. But if that were true, why did you have such a strong urge to go to him, desperately longing to feel his lips against yours?

Arthur lied awake, his own demons tearing him apart from the inside. How could he be so stupid? He swore to a life of celibacy long ago, knowing he lived a life too dangerous for a family. He had hoped it would be different with you- a woman made from the same cloth as him- but he was wrong. What a fool he was, believing a woman of such high caliber would even be interested in a raggedy old wretch such as himself. He knew better than to act on his emotions, for the sting of rejection never gets better. His mind replayed the image of you jerking back over and over again, tormenting him and reminding him of just how big a fool he was.

When you awoke the next morning, your head was pounding. You stumbled from your tent and groaned as the morning sun drove its rays through your skull. “Christ,” you groaned.

Memories from the night before lazily trickled back to your mind, hazy with the fog of inebriation. You were stretching your back when the memory of Arthur’s attempted kiss came back and it shook you to the core, stiffening you where you stood. Your eyes scanned the camp, he was no where to be found. In his place was a neatly rolled bedroll and a small piece of paper.

Fletcher,

I appreciate your hospitality in allowing me to stay at your camp. Know the favor will always be in return if you need it. If anyone gives you trouble again, don’t hesitate to write and I can lend a hand- or atleast drive the wagon. I look forward to our next meeting.

Yours, Arthur

You wondered if he remembered the kiss, his note seemed to remain in the same casual yet friendly tone as all of his letters. You hoped he was too drunk to remember, the memory lost in the haze of drunken stupor. The look of pain in his eyes in your memory caused your stomach to twist. Before you could get a rein on your thoughts, you imagined how those plump lips would’ve felt on yours. Butterflies rose from your stomach and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push the feeling of regret from your gut. You tried to tell yourself you did the right thing, but you never considered yourself a very good liar.

[imladris-soldier]

Lashes (pt 19)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The mood around camp stayed tense over the next two days while Hosea and Dutch debated the bank job. The anticipation of that, on top of the lingering ice from the fight, kept things subdued and awkward. Star felt as though every one of her muscles were taut to their breaking point more often than not and soon took to arrow-making to occupy her time and take out her emotions on some unsuspecting wood. Charles provided her with endless feathers as he spent his time away from camp entirely, and he always brought back hunted birds to feed her new habit.

Bill kept quiet about the fact that he was protecting his lover, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was doing, sitting at her side with a gun near at hand. She felt better with him close, and every time Micah's eyes even slightly drifted in her direction, Bill would be reaching for his rifle. While she knew she would soon move past her altercation with the man and lose the lingering feeling of vulnerability, it was helpful to feel safe in the meantime.

Late one afternoon, Hosea began making rounds, announcing that the bank robbery was going ahead in the morning. As he approached Star and Bill, Arthur tagged along behind him. “Dutch says to get some rest,” the white-haired man told them. “We're movin' on Saint Denis in the mornin'. That said, Star... I was hopin' you might agree to stay behind at camp.”

“Why?” Bill demanded.

“'Cuz we need good fightin' folk to stay with those who ain't comin' along. Mrs. Adler will be stayin', and I was hopin' you might too. Whadda ya say?”

Star paused the monotonous movement of her knife against the stick in her hand to think. She could feel Bill's eyes on her, knowing well that he would prefer she go with him, but what did she know of robbing banks? She'd barely been involved in the Valentine job, and perhaps she had pushed her luck far enough by attending the mayor's party in town.

“I'll stay, Hosea. Seems like the best fit.”

He clapped his hands together, smiling. “Excellent. I'll leave you to it.”

As Hosea walked off, Arthur joined the pair around their small fire. “Appreciate ya bein' willing to stay,” he told her. “I know ya like to be in the thick of things.”

She offered him a smile before going back to her work. “I dunno. I'm a bit out of my depth here.”

“Nah. But I, for one, will feel better knowin' them that's stayin' has you and Sadie lookin' out for 'em. You are both mighty women.”

“Thanks, Arthur.”

As she scraped her knife against the wood, Star glanced at Bill out of the corner of her eye. He was slumped slightly in apparent disappointment, and he seemed to be mulling over some words to say, though he also seemed unwilling to speak them with Arthur present. After a moment, he cleared his throat and quietly asked, “Arthur, can I get a minute alone with my wife?”

Star's movements slowed immediately to a stop as Bill's question rattled around in her head. There was something intoxicating and dangerous about hearing him call her his own in such a way.

“Sure,” Arthur replied, lumbering to his feet and knocking the dust off his jeans. “I'll see you two in the mornin'. Get some sleep.”

He left them, and Star sighed, sitting aside her project to devote her attention to Bill. He was fiddling with one of the patches on his pants, tugging at the haphazard sewing. She waited patiently for him to start, and began weaving together a small crown of grass in the meantime.

“I... I know I ain't exactly made myself clear on... well... seein' as how sometimes I want you to stay home and sometimes I'm draggin' ya out there in the middle of shit. I just don't want ya to think... I know you're a good shot and all. I know you can take care of yourself. But, ya know, it's like you said. We watch each others backs, but we can only do that together. I-I-I'd just feel better... havin' you with me. That's all.”

Star nodded, taking some time to think on that. Her fingers worked at the grass in her hands, twisting it into a long rope that left behind a slight green stain. “You realize I would be a liability, don't you? I've never robbed a bank. Not properly.”

“Don't mean you ain't good at it,” he replied with a slight smile. “Ain't seen much you can't do.”

A small laugh skittered out of her. “Now, now. Compliments will not change my mind. Hosea was right to ask me to stay. I'll be of more use here looking after everyone. We have the rest of our lives for me to look after you.”

Something about that seemed to take a weight from Bill's shoulders. He smiled at the ground. “Guess that's right. Didn't think of it that way.”

“Besides, you know I'll be with you in spirit.” She crawled to him, placing her grass rope around his head before tapping his chest. “Right here. If you get into a tight spot, just ask yourself what I would do. And then... depending on the situation, perhaps do the exact opposite.”

Bill laughed, grabbing her waist and pulling her atop him as he laid back in the grass. She shrieked playfully, laughing with him. From her position above him, she pressed her nose to his. “You'll be ok. Everything is going to be ok. And when it's over, we'll be headed for a tropical paradise where the only things we'll have to worry about are sea monsters and sunburns.”

She said it for her own benefit as much as his. With the way things had been going, it was impossible not to worry and doubt, but doing so brought down the wrath of Dutch who was just so damned sure of himself and his dream. Star wanted to believe in him and the future he spoke of, but there were so many unknowns. When this job was finally out of the way, perhaps they would finally have some direction.

The pair spent the night close together, turning in early though neither found sleep so easily. After some tossing and turning, they both gave up. Bill took a comb to Star's dark locks and tried to practice his braiding. Charles had shown him some time ago, but he was still struggling to get it down. Fine motor skills weren't exactly his forte. Still, it was comforting for Star to feels his fingers in her hair, even if they occasionally pulled. He apologized every time.

As the sky began to turn grey, Star's anxiety grew. Despite knowing that it was best for her to stay, she wanted to go and watch her man's back. Hell, she wanted to watch everyone's back. Her single trip to Saint Denis was enough for her to know that it wasn't going to be easy getting out of there. Winding streets made for too many places that pursuers could bottleneck them in or cut them off.

When the camp began to stir, Star helped Bill dress in his suit, unable to keep a snicker to herself. “What?” he asked, turning to and fro, trying to find what she was laughing at.

“Nothing. It's just... was that the only fabric you could find?

“What's wrong with it?”

She appraised the plaid suit, leaning her chin into her hand. “I mean... nothing, really. It's just a bit... chaotic.” His hair was a bushy mess too, as usual, adding to the frazzled look. “Come here.” She grabbed some pomade and coated her comb in it before dragging it through his hair until it laid down into something resembling respectable. “Better.”

“I ain't tryin' to get a job at the bank, I'm tryin' to rob the damn thing,” he retorted, though not without amusement and warmth.

“You gotta get in the place first, and they're not going to let you within a mile looking like a vagrant who's had too much cocaine.”

“Now, that's just unkind.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his torso. “I'm only joking. You look fine.”

He sighed, twisting his arms around her shoulders. “Still wish you was comin' with me.”

“I am, remember? Right here.” She tapped his chest again. “Besides, you'll be back before sundown, and then we'll be outta here. No more gators and buzzing bugs. Paradise.”

“Right. Mangoes. All that.”

“Exactly. So go on. The sooner you go, the sooner we leave this place.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, and for a moment, Star wondered if this is what normal couples felt like. Just a wife sending her husband off to work with the dream of a better future. Of course, normal jobs didn't seem quite so harrowing.

They made their way outside where the camp was bustling with activity. Everyone was dressed sharply and mounting up or climbing atop a wagon. Star escorted Bill to the wagon he would be driving, though as she stood there, Charles squeezed her shoulder on his way by and Arthur pat her back with a reassuring smile. She gave them both smiles, then handed Bill's rifle up to him.

“So,” Hosea called, “we rob ourselves a bank, and within six weeks we're living life anew in a tropical idyll, spending the last of our days as banana farmers! Let's get the hell outta this place and rob ourselves a bank!”

With a clamor of whoops and hollers, nearly half the gang rode out of camp, kicking up dust. Just as they disappeared through the trees, Dutch's voice floated back. “This is it, gentlemen! The last one!”

And just like that, Shady Belle fell quiet once more, leaving those left behind with nothing more to do but wait. Ms. Grimshaw made half an effort to convince people to pack up so that they'd be ready to move when it was all said and done, but she didn't take to it with her usual vigor. Everyone was worried, but hopeful.

Star and Sadie kept an eye on the borders of camp, each taking patrol of either side. Without really realizing it at first, Star picked the eastern edge of camp so that she could stare in the direction of Saint Denis as she paced. Of course, for a long while, such an endeavor seemed useless, but when an explosion carried through the air, and a distant pillar of smoke became visible, it no longer felt so.

Ms. Grimshaw came to stand with her, staring in the direction of the smoke. “Must be Hosea's distraction. He is quite the showman.”

Star smiled softly. “You wouldn't guess it just from looking at him.”

“No,” the older woman agreed, “but I have known him for a very long time. He enjoys an artful distraction.” She paused, eyeing Star with a perception that smacked of a mother's. “Don't you worry yourself. They'll be alright. This ain't their first rodeo.”

A small chuckled found its way out of Star's tense frame. “No, I suppose it's not. It's all just kinda new for me, you know? I've only been with you all for a few months, and sometimes I forget the reputation the Van Der Linde Gang had prior to Blackwater going south. Even I had heard a tale or two of your exploits.”

“That right?”

She nodded. “I'm from farther north than you guys ever roamed, but stories travel. Of course, they change every time someone tells it too.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Ms. Grimshaw laughed. “Well, I'll leave ya to your work. Whenever you get hungry, Mr. Pearson made some oatmeal this mornin'.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.”

When Star was left alone again, she turned her attentions back to the swamp. The only threat she could see was the monstrous creatures that lurked in the mud and hissed at anything that got too close, but they didn't seem particularly interested in raiding the place. The O'Driscolls seemed to have learned their lesson and stayed away, though they'd done damage enough by taking Kieran. Deep down, Star was looking forward to getting away from here – away from all the bad memories.

Morning turned to afternoon, and as that began to drag on, the fragile confidence that had hung over the camp began to dissipate. Star abandoned her post to find Sadie who was standing near the entrance of the camp, gazing into the trees.

“Don't you think they should've been back by now?” the Lakota woman murmured, trying to keep her voice low enough so that her concerns would not infect the others.

“From what Arthur told me about the plan... yeah. Maybe they just got held up.”

“Maybe. Had to take the long way back to shake followers or something. Still... we should probably get everyone ready to move, in case we need to make a quick exit.”

“Right. I'll see to that. You stay here. Keep an eye out. Holler if you see anything.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Sadie headed into the heart of camp, hurrying people along with the packing. Most of the equipment was good to go, but there were some lingering tasks to be done. Normally, Star would have expected to hear one of the girls grumbling about it, but no one did. The stakes were too high. Even Reverend Swanson had taken to loading things onto wagons.

Afternoon took a turn towards evening, and Star's chest grew tighter as the sky grew darker. The shadows between the trees were becoming harder to see through. The camp behind her was eerily quiet, almost as if they were all straining to hear any sign of the bank party.

When she could no longer see more than fifty yards in front of her, Star pulled back to camp. “Mr. Pearson,” she called quietly to the cook. “Keep the fires small.”

He nodded, but then asked, “Why does it feel like we're expecting to be attacked?”

“Because we don't know what's coming. They should've been back by now. For all we know, the next riders through those trees could be Pinkertons. Let's not give anyone more cause to find us than we must.”

“Star,” Sadie called, waving her over to a secluded spot by the porch.

She jogged to join her friend, and they huddled together in discussion. “Sadie, something isn't right.”

“I agree. We might wanna consider movin' camp.”

“To where? Nobody thought up a contingency plan if everything went pear-shaped.”

“I know, I know,” Sadie sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Just don't feel safe, stayin' here.”

“You're right. It doesn't.”

In the distance, little Jack asked, “Miss Mary-Beth, where's momma?”

Star and Sadie glanced over to find Mary-Beth's eyes on them as she answered, “Don't you worry about your momma and daddy. They'll be back soon.”

A slight rain had begun to fall, adding absolutely nothing positive to the mood of the place. “What do we do?” Star whispered, almost rhetorically.

Just then, she caught movement in the trees at the entrance of camp. She ran out, gun raised and shouted, “Who goes there?”

“Charles and Abigail!” her chosen brother's voice called back.

The camp burst into noise as everyone rushed the pair who had arrived alone and on foot. “Where is everyone? What's happened?” Ms. Grimshaw cried.

“It went bad,” Charles replied as Abigail rushed forward to pull Jack into her arms. “Pinks and cops everywhere. Hosea's dead. Lenny too.”

Mary-Beth gasped and Karen sighed, “Jesus.”

“John got cuffed and taken away. We don't know where.”

“What about the others?” Pearson asked.

“When I left 'em, Dutch, Bill, Javier, Arthur, and Micah were going to sneak on board one of the docked ships in the harbor. Don't know which one. Don't know where they are or where they're going. It's... it's just us.”

Everyone stood in shocked, grieving silence. Star turned her gaze back towards Saint Denis, fighting the desperate burn of tears around her eyes. I should have gone with him.

“We need to move camp,” Sadie announced decisively. “They're probably lookin' for the rest of us. We got everything pretty well packed, but we gotta find somewhere to go. Me and Charles will ride out in the morning to find a place. Star, you'll stay here to keep an eye on things, and when we find somewhere, we'll come get everyone.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement and comprehension before what was left of the Van Der Linde gang slowly dissipated to find what sleep and comfort they could.

Charles came to Star, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked, his dark eyes watching her own as she gazed out into the darkness.

“No,” she whispered, her lip quivering. “But I'm not gonna let them see that. Somebody's gotta be strong for these people, and it's gonna have to be me and you and Sadie and Ms. Grimshaw. Otherwise none of us are going to make it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But maybe they'll be back sooner than...”

“It doesn't matter what may happen. We need to proceed like they're never coming back. Because they just as surely might die wherever it is they're going. We can't rest all our hopes and actions on assumptions that they're coming back. They might as well be dead.”

“Star... he's not dead. Not yet.”

She turned to him, eyes sparkling with tears. “And maybe tomorrow he will be. He's not here. None of them are here. And we have to function without them. So there's no use holding onto hope. Hope has forsaken us.”

With that, she turned and stalked off into the night, unable to bring herself to go to the tent she and Bill shared. Instead, she made her way through the house, up the stairs to the Arthur's room. For a while she stood staring out of the broken window across from the door, then she moved around the room, examining Arthur's belongings. Each one she placed into her satchel. Whether he came back or not, she didn't want to leave them sitting around.

As the exhaustion of the previous sleepless night crashed down on her, Star curled up on Arthur's cot and cried herself to sleep, vowing that in the morning the tears would stop. When she rose the next day, she would be the protector the gang needed her to be. But for tonight, she would mourn her friends and send a hapless, hopeless prayer to the universe to keep the man she loved safe.