#pascal-istheway

Character Info

Character Name: 

Nickname: 

Birth Date:

Place of birth:

Ethnic Background:

Religion?:

Pronouns:

Gender identity:

Physical Appearance

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Eye Color: 

Hair Color: 

Is their hair color dyed or natural?: 

How do they wear or style their hair: 

Skin tone: 

Do they have acne, blemishes, etc.?: 

Do they need glasses or wear contacts?: 

Do they wear a hearing aid?: 

Face Shape (round, oval, heart, etc): 

Any prominent features (freckles, moles, scars, tattoos): 

Who do they think they look most like (mom, dad, brother, celebrity, etc): 

General health (good, poor, etc.): 

Exercise level: 

What type of exercises do they do?:

Any current health problems or chronic conditions?: 

How do they dress?: 

What is their style?: 

Why do they dress like this? (to be noticed, to blend in, etc.):

Any special jewelry/accessories (if so why is it special):

Speech, Language, and Communication

Do they have an accent or dialect tone?: 

What language are they fluent in?:

Any favorite/habitual words or phrases?: 

Describe general vocab or speech pattern (educated precise, pretentious, average, uneducated, etc): 

Typical posture (stiff, average, varies with mood, relaxed):

Gestures (rarely, when excited, oddly): 

Common/habitual gestures (nail-biting, hair twirling, clenched fists, etc): 

Living Situation

Current Address:

Rent or own?:

Description of home (apartment, house, size):

Do they live with anyone?:

Describe the area they live in (rural, city, town, other): 

Is this an ideal home/location? If not, where would they rather be?:

Home Decor: 

Do they own a car? (make, model, color, age, etc): 

Pets? If yes, how many, what kind, and names:

How are their pets treated?:

Job/Occupation

Current occupation:

Job satisfaction (happy, discontent, ambitious, etc): 

Income: 

Is this their dream job?: 

Did they go to school for this career and if so, where?: 

Romantic Status

Sexual preference:

Marital status:

Are they romantically interested/involved in anyone?:

If they are, with whom, for how long, and how involved are they:

Any previous romantic partners?:

Do they have any pet names for their current partner?:

How did they and their current partner meet?:

Any children? (names, ages, other parents if different from current partner):

What is the relationship with their children (if any):

Everyday Behavior and Habits

Any special talents or skills?: 

Anything they are particularly unskilled at?: 

Any hobbies?: 

Any interests outside of work that they’d love to do more of?: 

Spending habits and finances (in debt, lives paycheck to paycheck, wealthy, criminal, etc):

Personal Habits (smoking, drinking, gambling, etc): 

Morning routine: describe their morning rituals, who do they wake up with, what time do they wake up, are they a morning person, do they always drink coffee in the morning, what do they do during breakfast, etc:

Afternoon/workday: Do they work outside the home, how do they get there, are they good at their job, do they enjoy being there, do they eat lunch during the day? How long is their work day. What do they do on days they aren’t working?: 

Dinner: Do they eat at home or go out a lot, what are their favorite foods or places to eat? Who cooks at home, do they eat alone or with other people?:

Evening: What do they do on a typical evening? Where and with whom? Do they enjoy down time or like to fill the evening with things to do? What is an idea evening for them?:

Sleep habits: Do they fall asleep easily or do they take a while to fall asleep? Any recurring dreams? Do they sleep soundly or toss and turn?:

Family Origin

Mother’s name:

Current status (living, deceased):

Mother’s age:

Mother’s relationship with the character:

Father’s name:

Current status (living, deceased):

Father’s age:

Father’s relationship with the character:

Any step parents, foster parents, or birth parents outside of the ones above:

Siblings (age, birth order, relative to the main character):

Relationship with the character:

Nieces or nephews:

Inlaws if any:

Other than above, who else is part of extended family (cousins, aunts/uncles, etc):

The Past

Home town (if different than current home):

Was their childhood happy? Troubled? Dull?:

Do they remember their childhood accurately?:

Earliest memory:

Happiest memory:

Saddest memory:

What’s the highest grade they completed?:

Did they like school?:

Did they get good grades?: 

Most significant childhood event:

Significant past jobs: 

Police record (convictions, sentence serves, where and when):

First crush/first love:

First sexual experience (was it positive or negative?): 

Major illnesses, accidents, or traumas? Are they still affected if at all from this?:

Relationships With Others

Who is their best friend?:

Who are other close friends?:

How in general do they relate to friends?:

How do they relate to strangers?:

To spouse/partners?:

To past spouses/partners?:

To children if any?:

To other family members?:

To the same gender?:

To opposite genders?:

To children in general?:

To those more successful?:

To those less successful?:

To boss (if any)?:

To those under them at work?:

To those above them at work?:

To competitors?:

To authority (police, politicians, doctors, attorneys, etc)?:

To animals?:

What do people consider their most likable trait?:

What do people consider their biggest flaw?:

In romantic relationships are they monogamous or uncommitted (if the latter, are they honest or secretive with partners?)

Are they sexually inhibited, average, experimental, or reckless? Has this changed over time?:

Who do they dislike the most and why?:

Who do they like the most and why?:

Who is the most important person in their life right now and why?:

Who do they admire the most (non romantically) and why:

Who is their biggest influence and why?: 

Who do they most misunderstand or misjudge?:

Who misunderstands or misjudges them the most?:

Have they lost touch with anyone significant in their life and if so, when and why?:

Who do they rely on most for practical advice?:

Who do they rely on most for emotional support?:

Who if anyone, do they emotionally support?:

Mental Attitude

Any psychological issues (phobias, mental health, narcissism, etc)?:

Are they an optimist or pesimist?:

Meyers Briggs Personality Type:

They are most comfortable when (home alone, hanging with friends, out partying, etc):

They are most uncomfortable when (in a crowd, alone, speaking in public, etc): 

Are they cautious, brave, or reckless in their approach to life?

What do they value/prioritize most in life (family, money, success, religion, etc):

Who would they be willing to die for?:

Are they generally compassionate or self involved?:

Do they have a personal philosophy?:

What is their biggest fear?:

Any prejudices (race, culture, sexuality, religion, etc): 

Political party or beliefs if any: 

Do they believe in fate or destiny?:

Are they superstitious?:

Their greatest strength:

Their greatest flaw:

Their weakness:

Other character flaws:

What are their favorite things about themselves?:

What are their least favorite?:

How do they think other people perceive them? (and is it accurate?):

Biggest regret:

Proudest accomplishment:

Other accomplishments:

Quirks:

Secrets (and does any one else know):

How do they react to a crisis?:

What usually causes the problems in their life? (romance, finances, friends, colleagues, etc):

What would they like to change about themselves?:

Long term goals:

Short term goals:

What is stopping them from achieving these goals?:

Likes and Favorites

Foods:

Drinks:

Books:

Films:

Colors:

TV Shows:

Music:

Sports:

Hangout Spots:

Mottos/Quotes:

Possessions:

Animals:

The sound of rain tapped off the window of your small apartment you and Frankie got together last year. You’d spent the better part of a month decorating it, getting the guys to come over from his unit to help rearrange the used furniture you’d bought at a second-hand store knowing it was better to just show up with it in the bed of your old beat-up truck than to ask Frankie if you could buy it. Not that he would have objected anyway. He loved you and seeing the way your face lit up when you found some rare, “one of a kind” antique made him fall in love with you even more. 

You curled up in the blankets wearing his sweatshirt, the smell almost gone after wearing it almost every night for the last six months. Frankie’s unit had been called out on another mission somewhere south of the border, you didn’t bother to ask. Sometimes it was better not to know, the scarce satellite calls only made you miss him more, and knowing where he was would only entice you to hop on a flight and join him - again. Being a journalist had its perks. 

You had joined him once when he told you he was in the same city you were doing a story in. The ass-chewing you got wasn’t nearly as bad as the fucking he gave you for breaking the rules. But not being able to walk straight the next day made it all worth it. God how you missed him.

You drifted off to sleep to the sound of thunder, wishing he was there with you. You could almost hear him whispering your name, telling you “I’m here, my love…” 

As if you were able to pull him from memory, a click of the door pulled you out of a deep slumber, and in walked a very drenched, and very real Frankie. His bag dropped at his side when he saw your sleepy little head pop out from under the blankets, eyes barely registering what you were seeing. 

He kicks off his boots, walking towards you, one piece of clothing coming off at a time as he makes it to the bed almost completely naked. You smile up at him, eyes half-closed, and reach a hand out to touch him but miss, your tired arm falling just short of your mark.

“Hello my sleepy angel,” you hear him whisper as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple, “God, did I miss you.”

“Mmmm Frankie, baby, you’re home,” rolling over, you open the blankets which he willingly climbs right in. His warm body wraps around you, hands touching your soft skin beneath his sweatshirt, “Is this mine?” he asks, pulling at the fabric. 

“Mmmhm, I missed you,” you snuggle into his chest, planting soft kisses on the little dusting of hair in the center. You breathe in, smelling him for the first time again since he left. It’s one of the best things you’ve smelled in weeks, feeling like even though the smell had faded from the shirt, it has somehow come back to life in your arms. 

His mouth takes yours, soft and gentle kisses that turn more frantic with each breath. You could feel how much he missed you with each shared breath and you taste the rain on his lips as he parts them, feeling his tongue slip inside your mouth and explore yours. 

Eventually, he tips you on your back, laying you there gently as he hovers over you, and you moan quietly, his hands moving up under the old sweatshirt. You let him move his body against yours, his hips grinding against you as you feel him becoming painfully hard beneath his own boxers. You don’t know exactly how long you make out with him, but it’s long enough that your body has completely relaxed, opening for him completely. 

It’s only when your eyes start to close for a moment too long that you realize you’re painfully close to falling back asleep. “Fuck, Frankie baby, I need you so badly,” you whisper to him in the darkness, lifting your chin to break away from him, “but baby I can’t keep my eyes open… I’m falling asleep here.”

“Can I…” he hesitates, “can I just taste you then?” the words come out as a whisper against your jaw, despite knowing how badly he needs this you feel his cock throb against you at the idea. “Please, I just… it’s been so long, I just need you.”

You nod but warn him, “I might fall asleep… I don’t want you to be offended.” 

“Baby, you couldn’t offend me right now,” he laughs quietly. 

You feel him shift lower in the covers, his hands sliding down your body as he removes your panties. It takes you a moment before a loud sleepy moan escapes your lips at the feeling of his tongue plunging between your folds, lapping your cunt slowly and methodically. 

He spreads your legs for you, massaging your thighs as he sucks and licks, teasing and tasting you, strictly for pleasure. The feeling is undeniably one of the best you’ve ever felt, if only you weren’t half awake. 

“Frankie…. Baby, I-” you feel the familiar wave of pleasure tightening in your belly, “I’m… I’m gonna-” your words get lost around the moaning and sounds of his tongue driving deep into you. His fingers find their way to your center, probing you one at a time as he massages your walls with his thick finger. 

Your back arches as your cunt clenches around him, the feeling overwhelming you as your orgasm rips through your core. Legs tightening and shaking at the feeling while his tongue laps away at you, drinking every last bit of you. 

“Fu-fuck…” you whisper, your hands unclenching from the sheets and weaving into his hair. 

“That’s right baby, just like that,” the words tickle your skin as he crawls back up and moves behind you. His hands fumbled with the last of his own clothing, the fabric being slowly lowered behind you so you can feel his bare legs brushing against yours, the small hairs tickling the back of your legs. 

“Baby,” you feel his hands slide down over your ass, squeezing your plump flesh as he goes, “can I just slip inside, just for a minute?” 

If you’d been awake, you’d laugh at the fact that he’s even asking, but in your sleepy state, you just push your ass into his hips, grinding slightly against his cock. A moan escapes his own throat as his hands part your folds and he rubs his fingers in your slick moisture before rubbing himself with it. You feel his breath pick up, the warmth tickling the back of your neck as he lines himself up with your center and slips the head inside. 

His cock pulses against your flesh, his restraint is failing as he thrusts softly into you to fully sheath himself. The sound he makes comes out strangled, like a wounded animal. Then he starts moving, slowly and thoughtfully, to the point where it’s almost painful.

The speed picks up slightly, the sound of your skin together starting to echo from under the sheets. You feel his lips come to your shoulder as he plants a kiss softly on your skin. 

“Ba-baby… fuck, I can’t hold my-myself much longer,” he grunts into the crook of your neck, teeth sinking down as you let you a moan of your own. 

“Do what you need, I’m right here for you,” your hand reaches around and holds his hip as he pushes himself into you over and over again. 

“Fuck, that-” he thrusts harder, “god damn it why are you s’so perfect?”

His breath becomes ragged as his thrusting becomes harder, his hands snaking up the sweatshirt you wear to grab your breast. You feel his cock swell inside you, stretching you as he fills you completely. You can tell he’s on the verge of orgasm, his sounds becoming more wild and uncontrolled as he lets himself go. 

The waves of orgasm hit you all at once, your pussy clenching him for dear life as he pours himself deep inside you in short, deep thrusts. The fullness in your belly holds you in your orgasm, your tight hole becoming unbearably tight around him. 

“Fu-fuck,” he breathes into your hair, kissing you slightly as he pulls himself out. 

5:27 PM

The sound of the saloon echoed around us as we drank, eyes glancing at the two men sitting on either side of me. Neither of the guys seemed to care as they knocked drinks back, chatting together as I sat back in my chair and listened, overly aware of the judgmental eyes watching us. Not only was a non-working girl sitting at the bar, but I was with men that were involved in the fight. Specifically Arthur. In their defense, they really hadn’t done anything to start that fight. Something which Arthur reminded the bartender as he ordered a bottle of whiskey for our group. 

And he was technically right, Bill had started the fight. The other guys that joined in were just following up on the initial blows from Bill and the guy he was fighting. Ride or die, I guess. 

“So you think you’ll go get him?” Lenny asked as he winced from the alcohol he sipped. 

Arthur grimaced, “if it were up to me, I’d let the bastard hang, but it ain’t up to me. This was Dutch’s call.”

“I feel like Micah doesn’t care about nobody but himself and only himself,” Lenny huffed, “well that and maybe his horse.” 

The men laughed and cheered in front of me, knocking their glasses back and slamming them down on the table. 

“Now, Emma,” Lenny turned to me and smiled, “tell me, does a lady like you know how to drink?” 

I scoffed, “a lady would never, but I never claimed to be such a thing, did I?” the corner of my mouth rose in a mischievous smirk as I glanced at Arthur who was smiling back at me. 

“I bet you can’t keep up with the likes of us,” Arthur leaned over and breathed into my ear, sending chills down my spine. 

I gulped but pulled back and looked at him square in the eyes, rising to the challenge, “oh you’re fuckin’ on cowboy,” and with that, filled my cup and took the drink in one swoop, cringing as it burned down my throat and settling into my stomach.

—

6:42 PM

The glass fell from Lenny’s hand and shattered on the floor beneath us, all three of us bursting out in laughter as if it were the funniest thing we’d ever seen. Arthur balanced one on his hand and with the sway of his body, it fell to the floor below, shattering alongside Lenny’s. 

The conversation covered just about every range of topics from Lenny’s parents and why Arthur never married Mary, to why I wasn't married and living in Boston with some rich oil man, to our horses and the people that filled the camp. It was such an easy-flowing conversation that I barely noticed when Lenny brought up what happened to my family when he asked about my mom. 

“She was young,” I finally broke our silence, the three of us sipping from our new, unbroken glasses. 

They both just listened as the story half poured out of me as if I was made of my own whiskey and emptying the bottle into someone else's glass. 

“I remember, we were on a train, buncha cowboys rode up on us and killed a whole bunch of folk in the cars in front of us. We were in the back in the private car with one of daddy's friends,” I paused and my face grew tight as I remembered the day it all happened. 

I remembered thinking my father had abandoned us all in that car, how Griffin had held me as I cried when that outlaw shoved his gun into my mother's chest and threatened her. A chill ran over my spine thinking about him, his features blurred in the haze of time passing over the memory. 

I could remember small details, how he had dark hair and wore a pocket watch like the rich men that sat with my father over brandy did. He was well put together, much more than any outlaw I’d ever imagined. I remembered the young man he had with him, how his eyes pierced into our own as he approached the man that killed my mother and told him the law was comin’. 

“I lost my mom that day, on the Southway rail back before it was Levi’s,” I downed my drink. 

Arthur nodded, his shoulder leaning into mine gently to gather my attention, “looks like we are both a product of change and society. One and the same. Orphans,” his lip came up in a small curl on one side - an attempt at relating to me. 

“Yeah, I guess we are,” I clinked my glass into his and poured us another round. 

—

8:31 PM

My eyes can't open. I'm laughing so hard as all the men in the saloon had gathered, the piano playing a lively ragtime tune. I clapped along with the beat and watched them all kick one leg out and then the other, balancing on each other's shoulders. It was the first time in a long time I’d laughed this hard. In fact, the whole evening was the first time in longer than I could remember that I’d laughed like this. 

Lenny jumps out from the line and grabs my hand, yanking me to my feet and pulling me into the line between him and Arthur. I yelp, eyes bugging from my head as I stumbled but they caught me, pulling me into the line as we all kick out of sync. It’s the best time I've had in god knows how long. 

Eventually, the music changes, something slower and more intimate and the line breaks apart, Lenny grabs the current bottle of whiskey and as he goes to hand it to us, he realized that Arthur has swept me up in his own arms, spinning me in circles. 

“Arthur…” I look up at him, my eyes worried because this seemed too intimate for public, but also I didn’t want to stop. 

“Just give me the one dance, darlin’,” his voice swayed as much as our bodies did and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lenny smirking at us as he drank straight from the brown whiskey bottle. 

—

10:87 MP?

“Lenny? L-Lenny!” I whipped my head around the saloon looking for him. 

“Len? Lenny… Lennayyyy?!” Arthur called, stumbling into the bar top and reaching for the bartender, “have you” he hiccups, “seen him?” 

“I don’t know who you’re talkin’ about friend,” the bartender said as he casually wiped down a glass. 

“Lenny!” I called again, stumbling up to Arthur, “you found him?” I sounded excited. 

“Nope. Not even,” hiccup, “not even close.” 

“I dunno where that boy would’ve run off to.”

“Let's go on a hunt!” Arthur slammed down the glass in front of him after shooting yet another glass of whiskey back. 

—

00:00 AMPM

“Whatever you do, do not go up,” hiccup “up… don’t go up.” Both of the Arthur’s I see in front of me look like they are about to tumble down the stairs as he points behind him to the rooms on the top floor. 

“Wh-why?” I stumbled into his arms as he descended the stairs. 

“Well see, they all look like Lenny, but they sure as shit ain’t Lenny! Especially the woman,” he broke out in a burst of almost violent laughter. 

“Where in the hell could that boy be?”

“Come on, let’s go look,” he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me along with him as we stumbled out the back door. A man and workin’ girl laughing saying “how nice it is to be young”. 

—

12:25 A/PM

We search, stumbling together around the back of the saloon headed in the complete opposite direction of the town, and find ourselves in a field, singing and dancing while sharing a bottle of whiskey. Eventually, we forget altogether that we were even looking for him. Our eyes adjusted to the dim evening, trees and grass blowing in the cool wind as we skipped and danced under the stars in that field. 

It had to be after midnight but even as the lights faded from the town, we could still faintly hear the party in the saloon still continuing on without us. The sound of Valentine growing quieter while the sounds of the heartlands growing louder. 

Eventually, we found a nice little spot under a tree, the grass was thick but we didn’t mind as we sipped whiskey from the bottle we passed between us. The amber fire made my belly warm and my body loose. It felt good to get out and have some fun. Something I’d never really been allowed to do in modern society when I was expected to behave like a lady. 

“Arthur, why aren’t you married? Or ever with,” hiccup, “with a woman?” I asked as I flopped down into the grass and rested my head on a soft pile of grass while I looked up at the stars. 

Arthur sat down at my side and laid back next to me, his head matching my own. He hesitated before he answered but finally told me about her. 

“I almost was as a matter of fact,” he said quietly. “Even considered askin’ her to marry me.”

I sat straight up in shock and looked down at him laying beside me, his left arm bracing under his head while his right arm reached out towards me for the whiskey bottle. 

“Well, what happened?” I asked, handing him the bottle. 

He took a long pull, “her daddy never approved of me. Hell, she never really truly approved of me either. She was some rich woman caught up in the romance of bein’ on the run. She asked me to leave this gang so many damn times and each time I thought sure, I could walk away from all this. But look at how that ended up for Hosea? And Dutch is like a father to me. He found me on the streets fendin’ for myself. I couldn’t turn my back on them.”

He smiled softly and looked up at me gawking as he spoke, “as much as I loved her, she would never love me the same way. Least not in the way I wanted her to. And I couldn’t be what she needed, I can’t change for someone like that,” he coughed as he took another sip and passed it back to me. 

“No one should ever ask you to,” I said softly as I took the bottle back out of his strong hands, his fingers brushing over mine softly. 

He just grunted, nodding as he looked up at the sky above us. The stars were so bright, so clear in the sky I could almost count each one of them. I watched his features change, the lines in his forehead becoming harder as his mind went over what was undoubtedly every conversation he’d ever had with this Mary woman. I could see the frustration, the anger playing out and I hated that she would elicit such emotion from him. He didn’t deserve to be hung up on this woman who was clearly no good for him. 

—

1:37 AM

We sat next to one another, Arthur to my left and a small tree to my right. I took a deep breath, thinking about Kieran tied up at camp, helpless and unable to fend for himself against the guys. I know Bill was absolutely giving him hell, I’d seen it with my own eyes. As for the girls, they were likely steering clear from him, not wanting to rock the recently steadied boat. It slipped out of me before I could even register what I was sayin’.

“Kieran was the one that helped me escape,” I hiccuped and took a very long drink from the bottle, not wanting to make eye contact with Arthur out of fear of what he would do. 

I pulled the drink from my lips slowly and watched him out of the corner of my eye. His eyes were trained on me, but his mouth parted, chest moving up and down with each breath. 

“He fed me and kept me alive during all that,” I paused, slightly nervous to keep talking, and looked down at the grass poking up around my legs. “I’ve been feedin’ him in camp, trying to repay him I guess. Abigail knows, but I wanted to be the one to tell you,” I cringed, thinking about how much time has passed since they first picked up Kieran. 

I couldn’t stop it once the admission came out, I just had to keep talking. “Abigail said that I should trust you with the knowledge. That if I really considered you my friend, I should tell you but I just…” I sucked in a deep breath, “I already lost everyone and didn’t want to lose you too. I didn’t want you to look at me the way Dutch does.”

There was a very long pause before he cleared his throat, lighting a cigarette that was perched between his lips, and took a long drag, inhaling the smoke and blowing it out. He looked up at the trail of smoke blowing away slowly in the gentle breeze. A chill ran over me as his eyes landed back on mine. 

“Arthur, say somethin’,” I pleaded. 

He took another drag from his cigarette and blew it out, “I know.”

“Wh… what?” I looked at him nervously. 

He laughed deep in his chest, “you ain’t as sneaky as you think you are,” he pointed his fingers holding the cigarette at me, and smiled a cocky grin. “But you should be thankful it was Uncle that said somethin’ and not someone else like John or Karen. They got loud mouths and if Dutch found out you were helpin’ an O’Driscoll?” he ticked his tongue against his teeth and looked at me again. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Oh I’m trouble?” I laughed, “What about you Mr ‘I’m gonna beat every man in town’,” I made a fake country accent and lowered my voice mocking him. 

“Is that what you think I sound like?” he laughed, tossing his cigarette and reaching for the bottle between us only to have me swipe it from his fingertips and lean back taking another sip.

His hands reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him and making me squeal in delight and surprise. I could feel his grip loosen but then his arm wrapped around my middle and we spilled over into the grass together, laughing and giggling like teenagers. His fingers tickled at the side of my ribs, making me thrash beneath him in uncontrolled laughter. 

“Watch out!” he hollered, “we got us a real wild mustang over here!” he laughed as I bucked my hips and tried to roll out from under him, only to be met with more torturous tickling. It was past the borderline of friendly fun and way into flirting territory but I think we were both too drunk to care anymore. 

“Arthur! Stop! I can’t breathe!!” I laughed, coughing as I struggled to breathe, “Stop it oh god!” I giggled. 

—

2:91 ?AM

“What’s going through that head of yours?” I asked, laying back down beside him. 

He grunted, “nothin’ worth talkin’ about.” His face turned towards mine, our noses barely touching and I could see his lips part slightly. His adams apple bobbed and his eyes shifted from my own to my lips. My tongue darted out and my own eyes wandered to the scruff of his beard. 

Before I knew what I was doing, my hand reached out to cup his jaw. My thumb ran over the scruff that dusted his face, tracing the small scar that parted the hair on his chin. His own hand came to my cheek and our eyes met once again, the breath between us mingling together as we soaked in one another. 

It happened so fast, his drunken lips finding mine, our teeth clashing together as our noses squished up into one another. I could taste whiskey and tobacco on his lips, his tongue pushing out to part my own, and I greedily accepted it, swallowing his breath with each lap of our tongues. They fought for dominance as his hand came to mine, pushing me back into the grass as he rolled over to hover above me. His strong thighs pushed between my legs, causing me to wrap them around his waist while one of his hands came down to my hip and gripped me with such a strength that I knew there would be bruises tomorrow. 

So this is what Arthur was like with his women. Not the controlled lover, but the dominant, unrestrained man with primal needs.

—

9:25 AM

Everything hurts. My eyes refused to open into the blinding light shining in from the window. The window…

Where was I? The last thing I could remember was looking for Lenny and then…

Oh god. 

I opened my eyes to find myself in the hotel of Valentine, partially undressed and wrapped in the comforter that lay on the bed. Arthur was nowhere to be found. 

What the fuck happened last night?

The door opened and Arthur walked in carrying a small tray of food from the saloon. It looked to be a breakfast stew of some kind, eggs, and meat and maybe some kind of gravy? My stomach lurched and I held the back of my hand to my mouth out of fear that if I didn’t block it, I would hurl all over this room. 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Arthur looked concerned. 

I shook my head, the movement causing me to groan and lay back down, “no, just shhh,” I tried to close my eyes again. 

“I brought you some good hangover food, this’ll help,” he smiled and sat gingerly down on the side of the bed, placing the tray in front of me. 

The smell was divine, unlike anything Pearson would cook back at camp, “god I could eat an entire horse I’m so hungry,” I laughed, propping myself up slightly as I took the fork from the plate and speared a piece of sausage. 

Arthur watched me and smiled when I proved I could keep my food down, but frowned when he noticed me hesitate as my eyes searched around the room. 

“What happened last night Arthur?” I asked. 

“What do you remember?” 

“We were lookin’ for Lenny and- did we ever find him?”

“Nope, but he made his way back to camp, I found out this mornin’ that he went back earlier.”

“Oh,” was my only reply. I ate another bite and immediately my stomach rejected the food, making me turn towards the trash can and vomit into it. My head spun as I flopped back down on the bed. 

“Remind me never to drink like that again,” I groaned, flopping my arm over my eyes, “oww.” 

Arthur reached into the satchel resting on the side of the bed and dug around for a tonic, pulling the cap off and handing it to me. “Here, try this, it’ll help you feel a bit more normal,” he smiled and nudged it at my arm. 

I groan, taking the tonic in one gulp and shutter at the taste as it threatens to come back up. I manage to keep all of the contents in my stomach this time. 

“How did we get here last night? I don’t remember ever checking in here.”

“I already had the room booked when I came to bathe. I just figured, one of us was going to be too drunk to ride back to camp and we might as well have a place to stay that we didn’t have to set up camp for ourselves.” He shrugged. 

“Smart,” I said as we ate together in mostly silence, the occasional sigh or grunt coming from one of us. 

“How are you feelin’,” I asked when I realized he looked much better than I probably did. 

“Surprisingly ok, considerin’ how much we had last night.”

“You take hangovers much better than I do I guess,” I smiled and winced, making my face into more of a grimace than a smile.

“You should drink some water, it’ll help,” he handed me a small canteen from the side table next to the bed. 

I graciously took it, bringing the canteen to my lips and taking a long sip. The cool water soothed the ache in my throat almost instantly. 

“So what do we do after this?” I forked another large bite into my mouth. 

“Well,” he paused around a dry biscuit, “I guess we oughta head back to camp. We did what we were supposed to, came out and drank, even if we lost Lenny in the process,” he chuckled. 

“Right, we definitely got the drinking part down,” I laughed as we finished up our meal. 

Arthur offered to take the tray back down to give me a moment to clean myself up and get dressed. I found fresh clothes he had brought from the saddlebags on Apollo, along with a new stalker hat that I wasn’t sure was mine. The reflection of myself in the mirror, half-dressed with my red hair going in every direction possible, I groaned, realizing that Arthur had seen me look like this. With a sigh, I straightened myself out and got dressed. 

I stood in front of the mirror, my red hair now in a simple braid down my back and dressed in black everyday pants, a black collared overshirt, and my worn boots. I placed the new hat on my head and looked at myself. I didn’t look like anyone I recognized. The skinny leather band that looped around the black hat glistened from the light coming in from the window like it had been freshly oiled. 

The smile on my face grew. I looked like the person my younger self envisioned I’d be. 

I looked like an outlaw. 

He was waiting out front with the horses, nodding off slightly as he leaned against the hitching post when I emerged from the hotel. Arthur wasn’t a particularly menacing man when he was calm and quiet like this. He looked beautiful, or at least as beautiful as one could look this relaxed. 

“You sleepin’ on the job cowboy?” I called out to him, making his head shoot up and look around for me. 

“Come on, I gotta make a stop on the way,” he said as he turned away from the horses and walked up to the wooden platform that ran along with the town. 

We walked together in silence, and as we approached the last building, he stopped and turned into the gunsmith. The bell chimed as the door swung shut behind us. 

“What are you aimin’ for to-” the gunsmith looked up and his eyes narrowed, “now listen mister, I don’t want no trouble. You just state your business or be on your way.”

Arthur’s hands came up showing they were empty, “I'm just here to spend some hard-earned money, that’s all.”

I looked at him and back to the gunsmith who was now staring at me, curious about my unladylike attire, and offered him a small smile. 

“What are we doin’ here Arthur?” I whispered. 

“We are gettin’ you a gun,” he smiled, walking up to the counter and opening the catalog. 

“No, no way. I have one!” I argued, “you can’t get me a new gun Arthur, that’s expensive!” 

He ignored me and pointed towards the Schofield revolver in the case, “can I see that one?”

The gunsmith pulled it out and checked it wasn’t loaded before handing it to him. He examined the weapon, then placed it down on the counter and slid it towards me. 

“Try this one,” he instructed. 

I scoffed but picked it up in my hand. It felt heavy and a little bulky for my hands. Clearly evident that it was too big for me, he shook his head and took the gun to hand back to the gunsmith, grip first. 

“How about that cattleman right there,” he pointed to a slightly smaller gun that sat to the left in the case. 

The gunsmith grabbed it, checking again to make sure there were no bullets in it, and handed it over to us. 

Arthur did a thorough inspection, checking to see if everything looked in order before handing it over to me again. I held the cool metal in my hands, unsure what he was really looking for me to do. I looked up to him as he hummed, then he asked how much. The men negotiated the price, and within minutes, I had a brand new gun and holster with ammunition to go with it all. 

“Arthur, I can’t pay you back for all this, I can’t…”

“It’s ok. You needed a proper weapon, not a relic,” he said as he adjusted my new holster on the belt. 

“It wasn’t a relic! I mean,” I scoff, “ok maybe it was a little old but it wasn’t that bad. It still works!” I protest. 

“No more arguing, let’s get a move on before we waste the whole day,” he turns and heads back to his horse, leaving me no choice but to follow behind. 

The horses were right where we left them, but there was a tall, well-dressed man standing nearby, gently stroking Apollo’s head while he whispered what a beautiful horse he was. It was odd to see a man that was so well dressed in a town like Valentine. Maybe an investor that had taken the train in from the city. Or an oil man looking for a bank to work with. Reminds me of Blackwater a little. Seeing the odd fellow come off the ferry every now and then. 

Arthur grumbled under his breath, the agitation wafting off him in massive waves. His shoulders scrunched tighter and his face turned sour with a grimace. My eyes pulled away from the man by the horses and looked at Arthur’s frown. 

“Do you know that man?” I asked, feeling slightly queasy from what I assumed was the hangover. 

Instead of responding, Arthur just walked up behind him and cleared his throat. 

“Trelawny, what do I owe the pleasure?”

The man turned and a huge almost cartoonish smile swept over his features, “Arthur! My word you’ve grown since the last time I saw you!” he held his hands out wide. 

“That was only a few months ago, Trelawny. I’ve stopped growin’ for a while now,” his voice rang with annoyance. 

“Ahh yes, maybe in height, but not in width, dear boy!” he smiled before realizing I was standing next to Arthur, “and who is this beautiful creature? Does she have a name?” he held his hand out to take mine, to which I placed my hand gingerly. The man leaned forward and kissed the top of my knuckles, his own lips lingering for a beat too long before I replied. 

“She speaks too,” I pulled my hand back and wiped it on my shirt. 

“Oh I like this one, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Yeah, she’s a real spitfire,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “What are you doin’ here Trelawny? Thought you were off scammin’ folk outta their money out west? Or did you give up on that particular charm of yours?”

“I come with news! News of a particular friend with whom we are acquainted. A certain, Irishman, a red-headed fellow.”

“That so?” Arthur’s eyebrows perked up. “What’s the word?”

“The word is that after your escape from Blackwater, which what a mighty fine show I might say. You’ve really got those bounty hunters in a frenzy. I wish you could’ve seen the place after you all nearly cheated death! What a grand-”

“Uh-huh, yeah. Get to the point,” Arthur interrupted him. 

“Don’t be rude boy, I was getting to that. Anyways, after all that commotion you lot caused, our dear old Sean seems to have himself stuck back in Blackwater I’m afraid. The same bounty hunters that were looking for you caught him trying to flee the area.”

Arthur sighed and looked at me, a high of an eye roll for the dramatics of Trelawny. 

“Ok, and what am I supposed to do about this?” “Well, I’m gifting you this information because they are holding him until they can get the best price for him.”

“With how much that boy talks, I’m surprised they haven’t asked to pay us to take him back,” Arthur laughed, neither of us finding it funny. 

I piped in, “so where are they holding him? Do we know?” 

“Well, my dear girl, that is the million-dollar question, isn’t it. From the information I’ve gathered, they are moving him soon, further upriver to a location for transfer. It’s all set to take place three days from now,” he nodded. 

“Well, I guess I’ll go run this by Dutch and see what he makes of it. You comin’ by to share the information? Or are you just stoppin’ in town to pick up a girl or two?”

I scoff at Arthur’s abrupt rudeness. Trelawny doesn’t bat an eye. 

“I’ll be there by tomorrow, I have some business to attend to in town. Give Dutch my love,” he waves over his shoulder as he retreats towards the saloon. 

We both stood there and watched his back fade into the swinging doors of the Valentine saloon before I turned to watch Arthur gear up to get on the road. It was safe to say that that man, Trelawny, put Arthur in a sour mood. Even more so than the hangover did. He’s silent, not wanting to discuss things any further and I don’t push him. If I were being honest, my headache alone was enough to throw me off balance. I didn’t need Arthur’s annoyance taken out on me instead. 

We both mounted our horses, me a little more slowly than Arthur did, but were soon headed off towards Horseshoe. Neither of us spurs our horses into anything faster than a trot, their hooves sloshing in the mud before hitting dry grass. It’s a quiet ride, for the most part, our bodies feeling like we could fall off our horse at any moment in time. It’s not until we slow to a walk that I let my mind do any real thinking. 

He hasn’t asked what I remember, nor has he offered what he remembers either. And if he asked, I’m not even sure what I’d say. That I remember it all? All the way up until the walk back to Valentine? When he had to carry me halfway because I was genuinely going to blackout? Or maybe before that, when we were still in the saloon. Do I just skip every detail, every conversation we had? At what point do I stop remembering the way his lips felt on mine? 

Lost in thought, I don’t even realize that my fingers have come up to touch my own lips, savoring the memory of the way he tasted. Of how he took control and devastated me at the same time. Do I choose to remember that he pulled away from me like I was made of hot coals, explaining how he couldn’t do this, not with someone like me? 

You’d been working all day on a new lead. A sicario had been caught on tape disclosing a location of one of Pablo’s various labs. The only problem was the satellite connection wasn’t stable so of course, half the call was cut out and you had to do your best to try and fill in the blanks. 

You sat at your desk, hands weaved into your hair as you rested your head in frustration. Everyone else had already gone home, your partner, Agent Murphy, being one of the last to leave beside you. As far as you knew, you were alone. 

You sign in frustration, closing the file and grabbing your apartment keys from the top drawer of your desk before trudging off to catch a ride home. 

You hadn’t accounted for the fact that it was after midnight on a Tuesday and no cabs would be running this late, especially near the office of an American DEA agent. Could this day get any worse? 

Defeated, your feet carry you back inside as you mentally prepare for the roughest night sleep on the world’s shittiest couch known to man. But as your feet are slowly carrying you up the cold concrete steps, your other partner, Javi, comes barreling through the glass doors, clearly as frustrated as you were feeling earlier. 

“Oh, shit, uh sorry there partner,” he skidded to a halt in front of you, “did you forget something?”

“Yeah, no cabs run this late,” you laugh, feeling silly for not realizing how late it had been earlier, “was just going to crash on the couch in the break room but I-“

“Nonsense, I’ll drive,” he held his keys up, jingling them around his finger. 

You hop into his older model Jeep, pulling the door behind you and clicking your seatbelt across your lap. He heads off towards your building, which coincidentally, is the same one he lives in. 

Being one floor below him was nice. You had the security if needed. The downside was his late-night visitors. The informants he kept company with would keep you up into odd hours of the night. As if your job wasn’t already hard enough, try doing it with little to no sleep, pining for a man who is upstairs fucking another woman. 

He killed the engine in his usual spot, parking nose out as he always did. The night just felt like it was dragging and you couldn’t wait to slip under the covers and blackout for what few hours you had left. You were thankful though, tomorrow you had requested to take off and desperately needed the rest. 

You followed each other up the stairs, your footsteps amplified by your partner as they echoed in the stairwell. When you arrived at your door, you stopped, turning your keys over in your palm. 

“So I guess this is me,” you say at the same time Javi says, “do you want to come up for a drink?”

You stand there and smile, laughing awkwardly with him. He rubs the back of his neck, “I mean, if you’re tired, maybe another -“ 

You interrupt him, “Javi, I’d love to. But only if you have whiskey,” pushing past him, you start up the stairs, smirking at him over your shoulder because you know damn well all that man has in his place is whiskey. How many late nights had you spent together going through surveillance photos over a bottle and cheap takeout? 

“What do you think I am, an animal? Of course, I have whiskey,” he shouts after you and takes the steps two at a time to beat you to his door.

He unlocks it, letting you in first, and closes it behind you with a soft click. You look around, taking in the bachelor pad he has created for himself. It was messy and unkempt, just like you’d expect from someone like Javi. Empty bottles sat on the coffee table from last night’s game you assumed he watched with Murphy, some food leftover in a bowl on the side table.

His voice interrupted your thoughts when he asked, “usual with ice?”

“Hmm?” your head whipped around to see him holding two glasses with a dark amber liquid in them. 

“I asked if you wanted ice,” he smiled, handing you one of the glasses. You look down at the brown liquid swirling around the sides of the glass and smile.

“Oh. This is fine,” the glass feels cool as you bring it to your lips, letting the liquid sit on your tongue before sliding down your throat. Javi wasn’t one to spend a lot on the good stuff, not that you minded. He didn’t have to impress you by any means. And it’s not like you guys could afford the good shit on a DEA’s salary anyways. 

Javi watches with interest, his eyes tracking the way your throat moves slightly when you swallowed - the way your tongue swipes out after you take your sip. It makes his pulse quicken, and it wasn’t from his own drink. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning your body from top to bottom. 

His reputation around the embassy wasn’t unknown to you. Javier was a womanizer in the sense that his reputation with his informants went far beyond the occasional reward for a casual tip. 

It was true that he loved women and that they loved him in return, and they loved him often. But not just because he was a handsome DEA agent. No, they loved him for far more than his skills outside of the bedroom. 

“You were working awfully late Agent,” he jokes with you, knowing damn well that you always are one of the last to leave. 

“I could say the same for you, Javi,” you smile, taking another long sip from your glass, “you are normally out of there well before I am.” 

“I had something I was working on. The time got away from me I guess,” he stretched his arm above his head, his shirt poking up to reveal the slightest bit of his stomach. The beautifully tanned skin was peppered with hair leading down below his pants, something you noticed every time he did this in the office. 

“Let me guess, Sharon over in the records department?” you laugh at him. 

He pauses, squinting at you before joining in on the joke, “haha very funny…” 

“Sorry but for a guy like you…” your words trail off as he takes a few steps closer, his glass hanging down at his side now. 

“A guy like me, huh. And what exactly do you know about a guy like me, huh?” he whispers your name, eyes squinted as if he’s challenging you for more. 

You swallow, your stomach shrinking while your heart beats wildly in your chest. Your eyes meet and suddenly, you get an overwhelming heat that burns between your thighs. Shit maybe it was the alcohol talking, but this version of Javi was one you didn’t ever want to back down from. 

Smiling a crooked grin, you take another large sip from your glass, “I know all there is to know about guys like you, Pena…” your eyes slowly trailing down his body, “and I mean, all there is…” your finger reaches out, nail dragging itself down his chest from the left to the right before trailing lower. You finish your glass in one sip, never taking your eyes off him.

He takes a sharp inhale, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. Your eyes immediately follow the shape of his lips. “Unless there’s something you think I still need to know…” words trailing off accepting the challenge he presented to you. He takes a step back, finishing the remainder of his glass and setting it down. In one swift motion, he grabs you, lips colliding with yours in a frenzied passion that overwhelms you. 

A moan escaped your lips as he grabbed you and hoisted you up on the counter, his lips finding their way to your neck and not so gently nibbling at the sensitive skin below your ear. His fingers threading through your hair as he moved it aside to get better access to your neck. 

“Javi, we -” you moan again as he bit down sharply, ignoring your protests. 

“I know,” he whispers, taking your head in his hands. You both reach for each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get out of them. 

“Javi….” you groan as he rips open your blouse, buttons flying in every direction.

“Bed,” he panted, picking you up and letting your thighs wrap around his waist. Your arms grasp around his neck and shoulders, clinging for life while your mouths never leave each other. He walks you blindly through his apartment like you’d assumed he’s done a thousand times before with however many women. But right here at this moment, you don’t care. 

He kicked open the door and tossed you on the bed, stripping each other’s clothes in record time. Kisses planted on every inch of your body as he crawled over you. His hand snakes up over your chest as he takes each breast in his palms, squeezing and pulling them in just the right way. 

“Jesus… could you be any more perfect?” he looks at you as he takes one in his mouth, tongue attacking the pebbled nipple, teeth ever so slightly scraping along the tip as he sucks and licks to a perfect peak. 

You moan, legs spreading wider underneath him. Your hands find their way into his dark hair, weaving your fingers through it and giving a gentle tug to pull his mouth back up to you. He leaves this small trail of kisses up your chest, following the curve of your neck and chin, before claiming your mouth again. He whispers your name into your mouth and you swallow it whole, tongues mixed in pleasure. 

You completely miss what he had asked over the sound of your own moaning. Sitting up, you look at him, eyes drunk with lust and whiskey, “wha?” is all you manage to get out. 

“Can I? Fuck them?” he palms your breasts again, breathing heavily as he watches his hands knead them in slow circles. Clearly, he has a thing for the perky breasts that you hide so well beneath your shirt. All you can do is nod slowly, mouth slightly agape. You’d never done anything like this before, so your movements were clumsy as he turned you slightly over the edge of the bed to where your head was hanging off the edge. 

You feel him spit into your cleavage before he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off to reveal the most exquisite cock you’d ever laid your eyes on. Eyes wide, you reach out and stroke him, seeing his knees buckle slightly at your touch. 

“Fu-fuck…” he groaned, looking down to where your hand was stroking him. Your eyes were just able to look past where he was standing on either side of your head to see him as he leaned over you and slipped his cock into your cleavage. 

“Hold your tits together, I want to feel them, baby…” he instructed, pushing them together with your hands in his. You hold them steady, kneading them ever so slightly as he slips his cock right in between them. His head drops forward and a loud sigh escapes from his mouth, eyes fluttering half-closed. 

You imagine what this must feel like for him as he pumps his hips in and out of your tits, watching him from this angle is absolutely erotic, something you never thought would turn you on this much. What you weren’t expecting was the feeling of his hand to find its way between your thighs, slipping under the soft fabric and between the folds to find your sweet center. 

His thick fingers found that small nub immediately, your core completely soaked with arousal that he didn’t even need to do much except take his hand and rub small circles. Your back arched as his fingers worked their magic, your chest pushing up into him as his hips flexed faster. Cock slapping against your chest, the sound echoing throughout his apartment. 

You moan as he slips a finger deep into your tight hole, then a second, curling them to hit that sweet spot in a matter of seconds. How he was able to find it so quickly, you’d never know but at this point, you didn’t care. He was magic with those hands. 

He pumped his fingers in and out to the rhythm of his hips, his balls slapping against your chest in tandem. You played with your breasts, massaging and kneading them in an attempt to massage his cock through them. The grunts he made just spurred you on, making your hips rise off the bed slightly and ride along with his hand. 

Pretty soon, you could feel his balls clenching close to his body, the sign of his explosion coming to a head. And it was really perfect timing because he was so close to getting you to a full-body orgasm. You could feel the muscles clenching in your abdomen, like tethers ready to snap one after another. 

Like a load under too much pressure, you did just that - you snap. An explosion of color erupts from your cunt, liquid flowing from you and down his hand as he swears and finally bursts over your chest, showering you with his own evidence. 

You both lay there, spent and completely useless, bodies sweaty and sticky. Eventually, Javi does get you something to clean yourself with, tossing it at your side. You manage to clean yourself and start to gather your clothes but as you sit up, you feel the bed dip and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

Things in camp progressed smoothly. Everyone pitched in to get the place set up and functional, despite the lack of supplies we seemed to have after leaving Colter. But they made do - the people will survive. It was really something I found myself slightly envious of, this ability to just pack up and move with nothing more than the clothing you had with you and your horse, a few provisions packed away in your bag, and a lifetime of knowledge to keep you alive on the frontier. 

There were so many moments that I’d dreamt of a life like this as a little girl, wondering what it would be like to live with nothing more than what I was given, the exact opposite of the life I was raised in. I’d let myself be carried away by the fantasy so often, and yet here I was, surrounded by these extraordinary people who were just fightin’ to survive. There was a certain beauty to the lifestyle they were living. A dangerous beauty, but still beautiful nonetheless. 

It made me think of that poor boy they had tied to the tree, the one who risked his own skin to help me survive. I glanced up from where I sat at the table to see him slumped over against the tree and my heart sank for him. My eyes searched his small frame and then around the camp, watching the stragglers that were still here move about their day. Most people were out searching for food or supplies, maybe an innocent passerby to rob. With most people gone, it seemed like a safe enough moment to return a favor. 

I grabbed a clean bucket of drinking water and a ladle from near Pearson’s wagon along with a plate of stew and bread with my bad arm, balancing it in my hand while trying to maneuver around the sling. Kieran sat on the ground, the occasional shiver rattling through his shoulders. Poor guy must have fever chills, not being properly clothed in the elements will cause even the healthiest to get sick. 

 “You need to stay hydrated,” I whisper, kneeling down to him and quietly bringing the ladle to his lips for him to sip. 

“Em-Emma? Is that you?” his voice wavered, head coming up slowly as his eyes blinked in shock as he looked over my face in surprise. 

“Be quick now, I don’t need them knowin’ I helped you,” I whisper, taking the stew meat and forking a piece, bringing it to his mouth, “I’m under enough pressure as it is.”

“Wh-what are you… what are you doin’ here? I thought you were gettin’ outta here?” his voice trembled. 

“No time for questions Kieran, eat quick, we can talk when it’s safer,” I pushed the fork closer, letting him take a bite. His eyes closed as he savored the food, the first bites he’d had in days. 

“Wh-where ar-” he tried to speak around the food I was practically shoving down his throat. I glanced around behind me, making sure that no one was watching, and caught the eyes of Abigail who just gave me a sad smile, her eyes filled with acknowledgment. 

 I froze in my spot, my own face pleading with her not to speak of what she’s witnessing. Thankfully, she moves her hands to her lips, motioning a key locking her mouth, and tossing it over her shoulder. The breath I wasn’t aware I was holding escapes, my shoulders relaxing as I turn back to Kieran. 

 “We can answer questions later, Kieran. You need to drink, eat, stay alive. I don’t know anything about what Dutch wants from you, or why. I’ll be back to help you I promise. It’s the least I can do.”

 I spoon more food and some water into his greedy mouth as he practically lunges for the food and water. Once it’s all gone, I smile and tell him I’ll be back tomorrow or maybe even later tonight if my shoulder is feeling up to it. To which he asks about what happened. 

 “Did they do this to you?” he asks sadly. 

“No, god no. This happened in Blackwater,” I reply, looking down at my shoulder. 

“So they technically did do it to you, just not directly.” he rebuttals. 

“Well… no.” I pause, thinking over what he said. Technically they did this to you… I guess he wasn’t wrong in that. 

He just looked at me sadly, “it is good to see you, Emma. I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“I know. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry that this is now happening to you.” I look at him with the most caring look I can muster. These men were monsters, I’d seen it in Blackwater and I’ve gotten to know Dutch enough that I know he’s not one to meddle with. “I’ll be back for you, I promise.” I set my eyes in steel as I look at him, promising him warmth and food. 

 ---

 Kieran had been tied to the tree the entire three weeks since we got here, while I snuck him meals and water. I think Abigail was the only one that really knew what I was doing and I’d hoped to keep it that way. One night she approached me after she caught me sneaking off with an empty plate, my own face going as white as a sheet when I heard her call my name. 

 “You best know what kinda shit you’re stirrin’ up there Emma. Dutch won’t take kindly when he finds out,” she crosses her arm outside of my tent. 

“I can hold my own against him. I ain’t afraid of him,” I swallow, unsure if I’m trying to convince her or myself. 

 When I woke the following day it was well past the normal time I normally forced my eyes open. Several of the camp members had already gone off on their ventures for the afternoon, seeking out opportunities to provide for the camp. There was still no word on Sean or Micah, despite the days dragging on and the friends Dutch had out gathering various bits of information for him. Still, nothing turned up. 

I hated to think that Dutch would just write them off like that, and when I’d asked Arthur about it, he just grunted and shrugged, giving a non-committal answer. Karen seemed concerned though, constantly checking in with Ms. Grimshaw and Dutch to see if they’d heard anything new. But of course, there was no news. And as Abigail mentioned to me when I asked her about it, no news was better than worse news. 

The trunk of clothes that the girls brought for me didn’t have much, but it did manage to have a pair of trousers and a blouse, something comfortable enough to ride in and not be too out of place. I’d finally felt ok enough to take my arm from the sling with a very strict warning from Ms. Grimshaw not to overuse it. It needed time to finish healing so I could do small movements, but “no shootin’, throwin’, or anything else that will mess it up.” She warned me that if I go and mess things up, I’ll end up a cripple in that arm and no use to anyone in this life, especially myself. 

I’d found Arthur over by the campfire at Pearson’s wagon, sipping some coffee and enjoying his conversation with Abigail while they watched Jack play with the small wooden horse from Colter. He had found more appropriate clothing as well, a tan jacket covering his blue work shirt and a pair of dark, worn jeans over his boots. 

The way that shirt hung to his chest beneath his jacket, it was like a slingshot pulling at a distant memory from a time when things were simple. When things weren’t uncertain and chaotic. 

Images flashed before me, memories pulling at strings from the depth of my brain. A man turning pages in a catalog. Light shining through glass bottles on the window sill. The smell of fresh bread from the bakery. Apollo’s hooves against the cobblestone. An exchange of glances, like the one we are currently having over the campfire. 

 Abigail’s laughter breaks through my thoughts and brings me back to reality. “Oh Arthur, you aren’t foolin’ no one,” she swatted at him. 

He held his hands up in defense, “no I swear I’m tellin’ the truth! Ask John, he was there!” 

“You boys are always up to no good, even as kids you were trouble,” she laughed, taking a sip of her own coffee as I approached them quietly. 

“Oh hey, Emma! Almost didn’t see you come up there,” Abigail greeted me. 

 Arthur turned to look at me, his eyes going straight to my newly freed arm and he grinned.

 I smiled in return to him, grabbing a cup and pouring the coffee into the mug, and gently took a sip, “how’s it goin’ over here this morning?”

“Arthur was just tellin’ me a fascinating tale, weren’t you Arthur…” Abigail chuckled into her cup. 

“It wasn’t that interesting,” Arthur poured the rest of his coffee out on the fire, the sizzle of the coffee over the wood let the steam rise from the rapidly drying logs. 

“Oh, no, this was a good one,” Abigail laughed, a small snort escaping from her nose. 

“Please, share with the class then,” I smiled behind the cup and sipped, adjusting my shoulder. 

Arthur took a big sigh and rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his belt before speaking, “I was just telling Abigail about how when I was a boy, I put horse shit in Dutch’s boots one morning and he was madder than… well then nothing decent I can say in front of two ladies…” he laughed. 

“I’m sorry you did what, now?” I choked slightly on my coffee. 

“Oh yeah, and it had rained the night before so the manure was nice and wet. Real nasty smelling too. The ass whopping I got wasn’t worth it in the end though,” he smiled, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep puff. 

 I shook my head and laughed, the movement agitating my shoulder ever so slightly but enough where Arthur noticed.

“How’s that shoulder treatin’ you?” he asked, pointing towards my arm, “looks like you’re out of the sling. Does that mean you’re back in the saddle?”

“It’s about as good as the last time you asked me, Arthur,” I offered a small smile. “These things take time to heal.” 

The corner of his lip came up before he took another puff of his cigarette and nodded, a grunt coming from his chest to follow. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 I could see the war playing out on his face. It was the same one that played every time we talked about my shoulder. He was upset about it, with every right to be. I took a bullet for him and it was understandable. I’d probably feel the same way if I were in his shoes. There was a silence that settled between us as we just enjoyed each other’s company by the fire. Then, Arthur spoke up, the flicker of an idea splashing across his face. 

 “What do you say we get out of here today? Go to town,” Arthur asked. 

“Is that even allowed?” I laughed. 

The corner of his lip curled, “Dutch won’t have nothin’ to say if we are just exploring opportunities. And besides,” he turned to head towards the wagon, “you’ll be with me so how much trouble can you really get in?”

I laughed, “oh, Arthur, you don’t know me that well yet!” 

He laughed along with me, “you ever been to Valentine?” Arthur asked as we walked together towards the wagon. 

“Yeah, a few times. Griff and I…” I trailed off, thinking about my brother, his warm smile lighting up in my memories. 

“It’ll get easier to talk about him, in time, you know,” he said, putting a hand on my good shoulder. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just still really fresh, you know?”

He stops me at the wagon and looks me dead in the eye, “yeah, still raw. I get it.” 

 I nod, an acknowledgment passing between us of the conversation we aren’t going to have. He gives me just the smallest of nods before turning back to the wagon to a very passed-out Uncle laying on the ground, propped up against the wheel. 

 Arthur grins at me and chuckles, “watch this,” before he gives him a firm boot to the thigh. “Careful not to work yourself to death there, Uncle!” 

“Hey, Arthur, Emma…” Uncle stands and groans, “I was thinkin’”

“Oh, does it pay well?” Arthur asked. This made me giggle. 

Uncle grumbled, “unngh well eventually…”

Arthur patted Uncle on the back and walked with him around the wagon, “sure, but while the rest of us are busy killin’, stealin, lyin’... fightin’ to try to survive, you get to think all day. How ‘bout that?”

“Well, it’s a strange world we live in, Arthur Morgan!” Uncle scratched his head. 

 This made all of us laugh, the honesty between the jabs was refreshing, to say the least. I liked Uncle, despite his general laziness. There was a certain truth to him. With Uncle, what you see is what you get. He wouldn’t tell you that he would do more or less for you than what he offered. And I liked that about him. You always knew what you were going to get from him and it wasn’t much. But he sure was fun to be around the fire with, drinkin’ the night away.   

 “You wanna head into town with Emma and me? See what’s goin’ on in Valentine?” Arthur asked. 

“Sure, why not, I got some errands to run anyways,” Uncle reached in his pocket for a paper with a list of supplies Pearson needed. 

“Great, then you can go check the horses are ready!” Arthur slapped him on the shoulder. 

Uncle grumbled, stomping off but did so without any major complaint. 

 “I swear that man always has a stick up his ass,” Arthur lit another cigarette and took a deep inhale, shaking his head. 

“He’s old, give him a break.” 

“A break! That’s all that man does is take one giant break from life!” 

 I’d been so focused on Uncle and Arthur, I didn’t even see Karen, Tilly, or Mary-Beth come up from behind the tents asking to come along with us. It felt good to get out of the camp, even if it was to be shoved into the back of the wagon with the girls. We talked, they sang songs I didn’t know the words to, even Arthur and Uncle joined in singing which was hilarious to hear them singing along. It lifted our spirits, being away from everyone. I, for one, needed to get away from the watchful eyes of those around me, Dutch in particular.

But also away from hiding away from Kieran, his sad form tied to the tree on the edge of camp. Each day I woke to do chores, we shared a look together that would settle into the depths of my stomach. I hated it, hated seeing him in the same exact position he rescued me from and I was unable to do for him what he did for me. The best I could do, I did. Bringing him food and water, covering him when it rained and snuck medicine from the cart next to him. There was no way Dutch didn’t know I was doing it, and to be honest, I think he just didn’t care about it at this point. 

Dutch was often busy off muttering about the next big score, the next big thing that will get him and this gang out of the trouble they created for themselves. Which, if I was being honest with myself, all sounded ridiculous. He had these grand ideas for money, trains and banks, and the likes. None of them ever worked out after he sent someone to investigate. It was desperation. The same kind I’d seen in the businessmen that lined the streets of Blackwater, looking for their next big “get rich quick” scheme. My mind wandered as we bounced along in the wagon, taking in the beauty around us of the rolling hills and tabletop mountains of the prairie. However, as we pulled into town, my thoughts were interrupted by Karen. 

 “Ok! Take a gooood look around ladies! Let’s see what we got here!” Karen said to the group of us as we rolled into the town. Her voice dropped low and she leaned into me, “Emma, you ever robbed a man before?” 

Arthur turned around from the driver’s bench, “Karen, don’t you go sayin’ shit like that.” His eyes connected with mine. 

“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to right now,” I pointed to my bad shoulder. 

“Oh, darlin’ you never know what kind of stuff you can find, even when you’re hurtin’! That makes it all the more fun!” she and the girls laughed as Arthur’s nose curled. 

“Sheriff's office is on the right. I’m sure you can pick up some bounties there, Arthur. You know if you want to get some money legally.” Uncle pointed out the building. 

“Heaven forbid you put your own head on the line, Uncle,” Arthur grimaced over his freshly lit cigarette. 

Uncle cracks open his flask and took a sip, “no way, Arthur. That’s a young man’s game.”

Karen looks all over the town as we pull in, “oh! Yes! We can get up to some mischief here alright!” 

Arthur calls out over his shoulder, “just remember ladies, keep a low profile. Don’t want anyone alerting nobody.”

“Will you remember that, Arthur?” Tilly calls back

“Probably not,” he said, laughing. 

 He pointed the horses towards the stables at the end of the road, pulling them to a stop next to the hitching post, and tied the reins gently around the post. The girls start to hop out, leaving me to fend for myself on getting out. Arthur appears at my side, smiling as he offers you a hand to help climb out of the wagon. 

“Thank you, my knight in shining leather, always there to help,” my hand lingered on his jacket. 

“Always here for you, Emma.” The smile that spread over his lips was genuine, reaching all the way up to the lines that caressed his eyes. 

“Emma, join me and Uncle?” 

“Sure, what are we doin’ there?” I ask, following in step behind the men. 

“What any self-respecting maniac does… put the women to work!” Uncle replied. 

“With pleasure! We’ll start at the saloon,” Tilly replied as the three of them turn towards the saloon. 

“Ladies, just stay out of trouble, don’t get yourself noticed,” Arthur calls to the women as they take off towards the saloon. We walked silently towards the general store before anyone spoke up. 

 “So that’s how you see yourself?” Arthur turns towards Uncle and smiled mischievously, “a maniac?”

“Well, as it so happens, in my youth I used to be known as the “one-shot kid”.” Uncle puffs his chest out and pulled at his suspenders as a laugh escapes from my throat, my hand shooting up to cover it. 

“I am not gonna ask why,” Arthur laughs alongside me, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright you two, don’t go makin’ fun of me. You’re a sad man, Arthur Morgan. But, I know you love me.” 

Arthur groaned, “yeah, desperately. You’re my favorite parasite… No, wait. My second favorite right behind ringworm.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Uncle turned to us as we desperately tried to control our laughter as we climbed the steps to the porch in front of the shop.

“I lied. Ringworm then rats with the plague, then you,” Arthur spit between choking laughter. 

“Would you two shut up!” Uncle called out, “this is the place, come on.” He pushed the door open grumbling, “I have better things to do besides listen to you two gang up on me.”

 The three of us walked into the store, saying our good morning’s to the shopkeeper. Well really it was just me that replied to the bristly man, Arthur and Uncle went straight to the shelves while I followed along behind and looked at the various items stocked on the dusty shelves. They grabbed their items, Uncle needing more whiskey while Arthur restocked some items for his horse and the camp before we paid and made our way back outside.  

The three of us sat on a bench outside the general store, passing a half-full bottle of whiskey back and forth between us. It was soothing, the hustle and bustle of the town as people were going out and about their days. It reminded me of early mornings in Blackwater. The morning’s I’d come in from a hunt and give poor Henry some mangled pelts at the butcher shop. I watched as a boy and his mother walked out of the hotel towards the store and a tear almost came to my eye.

The boy looked just like Griffin, just younger. He had the same dusty-colored hair and even the way his eyes squinted in the early day sun. This carefree frolic as he skipped through the mud, splashing some onto the hem of his mother's skirt, earning a scolding. But he didn’t care. It was fun for the boy, a joy in doing what he knew he wasn’t supposed to. The laughter from the boy and the sound of horses' hooves splashing through the mud blocked out the conversation between Arthur and Uncle at my side.

 I felt a nudge on my shoulder and my head snapped up back to their attention, “hmm? What was that?” 

It was then I noticed Mary-Beth had joined us, “I was just explainin’ that someone was saying her sister is takin’ a trip to New York or somewhere thereabouts,” her voice lowered, “aa train, full of rich tourists heading to Saint Denis before they cruise off to Brazil!”

Arthur nodded and grumbled, taking another sip of the whiskey. 

“Arthur, it’s a train laden with baggage passin’ through a bit of deserted country at night! They have to get to the docks before the tides! Someplace called Scarlett Meadows I think?” Mary-Beth seemed excited. 

Then Uncle chimed in, “yeah I think I know the place! It’s right out near New Hanover,” he leans into the group and whispers, “it’s real quiet out there Arthur.”

“Ok.. that could work,” Arthur smiled and leaned forward on his elbows, “take it to Dutch, see what he thinks.” The group nodded as I chimed in, “Hey, uh where’s Tilly and Karen?” 

“Oh, I think they went to the hotel. Picked up some drunken fellers to rob,” Mary-Beth sat down beside me.

Arthur sighed, “I guess I’ll go get them,” and stood, walking off to go see what was taking them so long. 

 Moments later, he returned, bruising on his knuckles and on Karen’s jaw, all while she grumbled on about “bein’ saved,” and how “I don’t need a man to save me, but I’m glad you did Arthur.”

It was at that moment when Mary-Beth noticed a man sitting on his horse, staring at our group. He was familiar and I noticed exactly who it was from where I was sitting. Jimmy Brooks. He was staring right at me, waiting to see if I recognized him or would just ignore him all together I guess. But then he saw Arthur walking up towards us and his eyes went wide with panic, remembering the hell that shot through the town of Blackwater just a mere few weeks ago. Although now looking back, it seemed like a lifetime away. 

 “Hey, I know you,” Jimmy finally grew the balls to speak, “weren’t you in Blackwater a few weeks back?”

Arthur turned to look at him, “me? Nope, you must be mistaken.”

“You sure? I could’ve sworn…” Jimmy squinted and then recognition glossed over his features. 

“Nope, wasn’t us,” Arthur stepped in front of me, shielding me from his view. 

“Oh no, I definitely saw you! You and a bunch of them feller’s with Miss Emma,” he pointed right at me making the whole group turn and look at me. 

“Nope, sorry you must have us mistaken with someone else. I have one of those faces,” Arthur started to walk towards him, “Listen, pal, why don’t you come here for a min-” 

Without any warning, Jimmy spun his horse around and took off, yelling over his shoulder, “Don’t you come any closer! I know what I saw! Stay away from me!!”

 “Arthur!” my hand shot out to grab his shoulder, “Arthur don’t-”

But all I got in response was a grimace and Arthur sprinting off towards a lone horse hitched nearby, with myself hot on his heels. 

“Goddamn it… You stay here!” he yelled back to the group, “I’ll go deal with it!” he jumped onto the horse as my own feet caught up with him. 

“Let me come, I know him,” I pleaded. 

Arthur hesitated for a moment as he looked down at me below him and then towards the direction that Jimmy galloped off in. He scowled somethin’ fierce and then reached his hand down, letting me slide my food into the stirrup and then yanked me over the back of the saddle and spurred the horse on to follow Jimmy. We took off so fast I nearly came off the back but Arthur’s arm reached out behind me and yanked my arm around him as I screamed back to the man that we would return his horse promptly. 

I grabbed around his waist and held on for dear life as we galloped through the hills, chasing Jimmy over the grassy terrain and dodging the occasional tree, spurring the horse on harder. His feet pushed off the dirt with every stride, dirt, and grass flying up in every direction. The standardbred rode hard, close to catching up before Jimmy’s horse ran clear over to a cliff and skidded to a stop, rearing and tossing him over the edge. 

 “Jimmy!” I screamed as I slid from the back of the horse and ran to him. “Hold on!” 

“Please dear God help me! I can’t get up! I don’t wan-wanna die!”

 I sprinted to my childhood friend hanging over the edge and leaned down to help grab his hand with one arm, screaming to hold on. I could see the terror in his eyes as his feet scrambled for the side of the mountain, his hands barely gripping the rock on the edge. Over my shoulder, my eyes watched Arthur as he took his time getting down off the horse and slowly stalked over to the cliff where Jimmy Brooks held on for dear life. He stood there at the edge of the cliff and just peered down, lighting a cigarette in the most intimidating way I’d ever seen someone light one. 

 “Now, Jimmy is it? I can call you Jimmy, right?” he inhaled deeply on his cigarette. 

“You can call me anything you damn well want just help me up!”

“Why you tellin’ lies, Jimmy?” Arthur looked at the man dangling below him as I went to go help, but Arthur just glared at me with a sharpness to his eyes before looking back down, “I ain’t never seen you before, and you ain’t ever seen me. Ain’t that right?”

“No, no! I got it wrong partner… I got it very wrong, I ain’t never-” Jimmy screamed as his fingers lost grip on one hand, my own grip on his shirt barely holding, “dear God just help me up!”

“Why should we help you, Jimmy?”

“I-” Jimmy swallowed and looked down over his shoulder, “you ain’t got no reason to mister!”

“I ain’t never been in Blackwater, you got that?” Arthur inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out towards Jimmy as he crouched down to look at the man. 

“Arthur, I can’t hold on much longer!” I looked over at him next to me crouched down staring between the two of us. 

“I gotta hear him say it,” he looked to me and then back down, “you ain’t never seen us. You got that?”

“Yes, yes sir, I ain’t never seen you before in my life!” Jimmy started to sob. 

“I just got one of them familiar faces, ain’t that right Jimmy?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, just familiar. But not to me!” tears streamed from the grown man's face. “Now please would you pull me up!” 

 Arthur seemed to contemplate his options. Either he could help him, or leave him here to die. Neither he looked too particularly fond of. The war of his options must have come to a close, his consciousness the victor as he groaned, leaned down, and grabbed his other hand right as he was about to fall. Jimmy was hoisted up from the ledge, pulled over the rocks and put down firmly on the top. 

 “Jimmy!” I screamed, “you alright?” I glanced from him to Arthur who was scowling at us. 

Jimmy brushed his pants off and slowly stood, not wanting to look at either of us, “what the hell are you doin’ with the likes of him Emma?”

Arthur’s scowl just grew, “I could still kill you, you know,” he reminded him. 

“Would you cut it out,” I grumbled at Arthur, clearly upset with him. 

 I dusted off Jimmy’s jacket, asking him if he’s alright - if he’s going to be ok but Arthur interrupted, clearly unhappy with the entire situation. 

 “I think it’s best we all just pretend this never happened,” Arthur’s eyes tore holes into Jimmy. 

“Oh, I agree, wholeheartedly,” Jimmy’s hands shook at his side. “You know, you saved my life, you’re a good man and I.. uh, here,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash and an expensive pen. “Here, it’s all I have but you saved my life and I owe you,” he choked out. 

“That’s very kind of you. But, Jimmy Brooks, I’m not a good man,” he said, sliding the pen in his satchel before leaning forward and placing an arm on his shoulder, “not usually. And you best remember that before you go tellin’ lies about me. You see, I was in Blackwater, and I kill people. Maybe I should’ve killed you,” he pulled him closer, Arthur’s eyes staring straight into his. “Should I have killed you, Jimmy?”

Jimmy stuttered, “m.. me? No no sir, I never saw you. N-not now, not never!” He stepped back and dropped his eyes to the ground, hands wringing together in front of him before he looked up at the terrorizing cowboy in front of him and choked out, “I think we have an understanding?” 

Arthur grinned menacingly, squeezing his shoulder to the point he winced underneath the strength of his grasp, “of course we do Jimmy.”

 The moment he released his grip around poor Jimmy’s shoulder, the boy all but ran back towards his horse that was happily munching on the grass behind us and lept on, galloping off to presumably never be heard from again. As soon as he was over the last hill and out of sight, Arthur turned to look at me and his eyes softened slightly, “are you ok?”

 “Am I ok?! What the fuck was that Arthur? Just letting a man hang like that? And for what?” my voice carried over the cliff. 

Arthur’s face soured, “what was that?” he grumbled, “You don’t get it do you?” he sighed, clearly frustrated, “if he had told anyone anythin’, just even in passin’, we would be done for. You get that, don’t you?” his hands rested on his belt. 

“Arthur you didn’t have to let him hang like that! He could’ve died!” I was yelling at this point. 

“And what? So he dies, and you and I don’t have to worry about whether or not the law is gonna come down on us?” He lit yet another cigarette in frustration and pointed his finger at me, “you’re wanted now, which means if the law came, you’d be hangin’ right alongside me and Dutch and Hosea and all them back at camp. Is that what you want?”  

I winced as he yelled, “well I-” 

“And even if some of them did get away,” he interrupted, “they would be hunted down and shot!” His voice echoed off the mountains as he yelled at me. His eyes were practically on fire as he tore into me. 

“You don’t get it, this is how we survive Emma. We have to stay out of the law’s grasp in order to survive. If you don’t like it, well then you should’ve stayed clear of us!” he was fuming. 

“Jimmy was an innocent man in all this Arthur!” I screamed back at him, getting up in his face. 

“He saw us in Blackwater, he saw all of us there. To us, that ain’t innocent!” he inhaled the remaining bits of his cigarette and threw the end over the cliff. 

“He was my friend!” I screamed. 

Arthur took a step back and shook his head, his voice dropping low, “well,” he paused looking at the ground before looking back to me, eyes squinting in the mid-day sun, “it’s good to know where your priorities are at...” 

 We stood there staring each other down, neither of us willing to back down in the fight. Something clicked for him and the air left his chest, his eyes weren’t so angry, but I could tell it wasn’t over, the fight wasn’t even close to being over. 

 “What are you even doing with us, Emma? Why didn’t you run when you had the chance?” Arthur’s voice was so quiet, it was almost like he was asking himself the question instead of directing it at me. I just stood there in front of him, mouth slightly open trying desperately to come up with some kind of answer. 

 But the truth was I didn’t know. Why hadn’t I run? Taken Kieran’s advice and ran as far and fast away as I could when I had the chance. Maybe a part of me was hoping for this opportunity to live the wild and dangerous life that I’d always dreamt of and when I had the chance to, I took it. Maybe that’s what this was, 

And with that, he turned towards the stolen horse and got on, barely looking over his shoulder, “get on. We gotta go back,” he sighed. 

 The ride back to town on the horse was silent, the only noise coming from the hooves of the horse pounding on the grass and dirt. Neither of us spoke to one another, both of us still fuming. The horse carried us through the grassy hills until the town of Valentine started to come into view. Arthur pointed the horse’s nose to the gallows where the man who owned our stolen steed was standing, pacing back and forth. His feet stilled the moment he caught sight of us and a smile broke over his face, laughing as he called out to us. 

 “You weren’t lyin’! You really did bring my Phoebe back!” he rushed over to us and the horse tossed her head at him. 

“I’m so sorry about that mister,” I said eyeballing Arthur as we both slid off, “we had some business and I’m so sor-”

Arthur cut me off, “no harm done. Here’s your mare, have a nice day sir,” and stomped away back to where the girls and Uncle were waiting for us by the wagon. 

 It was the angriest I’d ever seen him. He didn’t even look at me as he unhitched the horses and climbed into the wagon. We all scrambled as he harshly instructed us to get in with Uncle yammerin’ on about how grumpy he always was. We all exchanged glances and loaded up slowly and quietly, letting Arther stew in the seat as he gathered the reins and pointed the team of horses back towards the camp. 

The ride was silent, Karen and Mary-Beth whispering to one another and exchanging looks between me and Arthur’s back. No doubt wondering what the hell happened but I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up and I doubted Arthur was either. There was no point in discussing it. Mostly because I knew he wasn’t wrong. And that was probably the part that stung the most. His point about the law hammering down on the gang; in all honesty it was something I’d never really thought about. Because I never had to think about it. 

All my friends and family in my old life were honest folks. I didn’t have this constant fear of being wanted until, well now. The only thing I’d ever killed were animals, and that was just for hunting, never out of anger or fear like Blackwater had been. I never had to aim my weapon at someone that was aiming one back. It terrified me, this sudden realization that I was wanted. And not just for anything petty, I was wanted for murder and robbery. One of the biggest heists that town had ever seen and I was smack dab in the middle of it. 

The wagon pulled into its usual stop and we all unloaded silently, Arthur practically had steam rolling off him as he started towards Dutch’s tent to undoubtedly tell him all about my little outburst and what happened with Jimmy Brooks. My mind ran with all the things he was probably going to say. Who knows, at this rate I’d probably find myself tied to a tree very similar to Kieran. 

I honestly have no clue what the hell happened. One minute, things were fine, then she was screaming. Scared the shit out of me. When I turned around, the kid was falling and she was bawling. I was just as confused as she was though, but she was just so broken… I couldn’t make sense of what happened any more than she could. But I just knew that whatever it was, I had to help her at that moment.

And of course, as soon as I got things somewhat under control, then I had to open my fat mouth. Maker, I’m such a fucking idiot. “You can call me Mando…” What kind of shit was that? Here was this beautifully broken girl who laid her entire history out in an attempt to connect with me, as I asked her to, and this is the best I can give her? The disappointment on her face when I said it too was just beyond upsetting. I could see the hurt.

I wanted to apologize, to give her something, but everything I tried to think of just didn’t seem right. Plus, what good was an apology? “Hey, sorry you spilled your deepest parts and all I could come up with was a stupid line about calling me Mando!”

I feel like such an asshole. This has been one emotional ride after another. I have better luck getting the kid to take a nap than I do with her crying fits. Some days I just find her sitting alone in a corner of the Crest, quietly crying to herself. She just looks so helpless, like a little baby bird all alone without anyone to care for her. Is it wrong to feel the need to help her? Is this the way?

------

It’s been one week. One whole week since you or Mando have spoken a single word to one another. The tension in the air between you guys is so thick you can hardly stand to even be in the same room as him. You can call me Mando . His dumb, modulated voice keeps ringing in your head. What kind of fucking bullshit is that? That is not an appropriate reaction to spilling your whole life story to another person. What a dick.

That whole night was spent crying quietly in the hull after he was so hostile with you. You literally poured your entire heart out to him, had a fucking mental breakdown, and he reacts that way? Wasn’t it his idea in the first place to not turn you in? He drives you insane. Maker , why does he affect your emotions so much?

Now, you’re worried sick about him. It has been three days since you landed on Endor. Mando had parked the ship in a very isolated part of the forest to keep the Crest from being discovered. Not to protect you, only the kid , you think to yourself.

The kid has been sleeping through most of it, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. The past two days have been spent with you finding ways to keep yourself busy. Never in your life did you think you would have enjoyed cleaning as much as you have. Everything in the Crest was now spotless and organized. He will probably be irritated at you for touching his stuff. Oh well . Not your fault he can’t keep his shit clean.

As you pace around the inside of the Crest, your mind starts to wonder what you would have to do were he not to return. The responsibility of the kid and his ship would fall into your hands. Hell, you don’t even know how to fly the damn thing, you were no pilot. Back on Tatooine, you were a bartender - at best. On a good day, you could plug in a few droids. But even if you could figure it out, it isn’t like you could figure out where the fuck you were, in the middle of the forest, on this damn planet.

You were too scared to go outside and look around, Mando’s warning to not leave the ship still ringing in your ears. Curiosity had crept into your head a few times the last week, making you wonder when you would be able to see something other than the inside of this ship. The windshield in the cockpit didn’t give you the type of view you wanted. No, you would give it another day before you resorted to finally opening the doors and taking a peek.

Between the occasional glance out the window and pacing back and forth the length of the ship, you were starting to go out of your mind. There was nothing left to clean, no parts left to organize since you’d already done it and redone it three times. Sometimes, time could be a good thing. There was a time to settle in, time to adjust… but this was time to overthink and it wasn’t doing you any favors.

Emotions all over the place, you sit down on the floor of the crest with your back against some crates, bring your knees to your head, and place your forehead gently to them. The emotional turmoil of the past week weighs down on you, suffocating you and causing tears to start welling up in your eyes. No, no, no. I will not cry. I am okay. Deep breaths.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you were really worried about him. Even though he has been a complete asshole to you, that didn’t mean you wanted something bad to happen to him. The weight of having to take care of the kid, your brother, being stranded here, just everything seemed to be too much.

Your finger became tangled in your hair as you twirled it aggressively around a loose strand hanging from your face. A single tear escaped from one of your eyes and stained your cheek on the way down. You took the ends of your hair and held it in front of your face, looking at the jagged edges, taking a shaky breath in as you examined the strand.

Next thing you know, you can hear air hissing from the other side of the ship. The sound makes you jump out of your skin as the steam decompresses around the ramp, the platform slowly moving down. The slight change in air sways your hair around your face, the loose strands blowing with the wind.

It takes a few seconds for you to register that there is no danger, even after you see him walking up the ramp, bounty dragging behind him by a rope around his legs. All you can hear is your own heartbeat in your ears as you shakily bring your hand to your chest in a futile attempt to steady your breathing shivers rack over your body as you take in deep gulps of air. He stops to take in the sight of you sitting there on the floor. He makes no sound, no movement as he just stares at you through the black visor.

You look up from your spot, Mando standing there silently watching. Patiently waiting for you to say something - to do something.

“You…” you pause, swallowing a lump in your throat,  “you scared me,” you croak out when you finally catch your breath. It takes a moment before sound slowly returns to your ears and you feel your muscles beginning to relax.

Realizing there are tears on your cheeks, you bring the back of your hand up to quickly wipe them away, sniffling as you do. He saw the tears, that is for certain. Embarrassment floods over you once again. It’s ridiculous how weak and feeble you have acted for the past week. You’re going to have to toughen up if you plan on sticking with a Mandalorian.

He finally moves in the direction of the carbonite chamber with his bounty dragging behind him. The sound of metal clanking as he finally shoves the poor soul into the chamber and slams the button. That could’ve been you just a week ago… still could be.

Mando sighs as he turns back towards you. Realizing you are still crumpled up on the floor, you begin to try and stand on your feet. Your shaky knees wobble on the way up.

“Are you… ok?” He questions tentatively.

“I-I’m fine. I just… wait…” you pause, dusting the imaginary dust off your butt, “where have you been?” you ask, voice starting to rise. “Your bounty was only a few hours away. Why did you leave us for two days? We had no idea where you were… or if you were even alive!” you exclaim angrily, arms crossing defensively in front of your chest.

He offers no explanation except for lifting up the satchel on his hip in your direction. As he brings the satchel over his shoulders, you roll your eyes. Maybe you did want him to be somewhere in a hole dead. However, you regret the thought almost as soon as it formed when he pushes the satchel in your direction.

“I was getting these…” he paused, waiting for you to take the satchel, “for you. I walked to Quork City to get them. I was hoping to have been in and out within one day, but the walk was longer than I remembered.”

Silence fills the air of the hull as you cautiously reach out to take the satchel. He… he got you something?

He brings his hands to the front of his body and ties his fingers together. The way he is standing is a little awkward, almost like he’s a bit shy or nervous. It’s kind of cute, seeing him get so nervous about whatever is in the bag. Who would’ve thought he had a vulnerable side?

You fumble with the latch holding the bag together as you start to unfold it. Whatever is in here feels bulky. Almost feels like… no. It can’t be.

Except it’s exactly what you thought. The satchel falls to the floor as you completely reveal a brand new pair of black, leather boots.

A gasp escapes your lips as you turn the boots over in your hands to examine them. They are black in color, with very sturdy outsoles, and a few leather straps winding around the ankle. They lace up the front to ensure the perfect fit.

“I noticed you were walking around here barefoot for a few days. Your other shoes were ruined, so I threw them in the compactor. Figured it was only right I get you a new pair,” he says as he starts to fidget with his fingers.

“Mando… I-” you can’t seem to find the right words. Checking the inside of the boots, you notice they are a size too big. The realization makes you giggle.

“What?” he questions.

“I… I absolutely love them,” you start, “but, I just noticed they are a size too big.” As you burst out in a fit of giggles, you notice he starts to fidget his hands even more.

“I… I’m… sorry, I had to guess the size and I thought I had gotten the right one. I can take them-”

“No, they are perfect. I love them…” you look up at him, “really, I do. I can wear some bulky socks or something. Thank you.” Gratitude washes over you as you realize how much trouble he went through, along with being the first to make you smile in a really long time. The feeling is not very familiar, and it makes you very emotional for some reason. This was so… sweet of him. He had been a total ass to you lately, but this was so thoughtful.

Feeling the tears start to pool in your eyes again, you start to babble. “This is… just so thoughtful of you. I appreciate it so much and I’m so sorry . I have just been a complete mess here the past few weeks and I- I’m just so… afraid. Afraid for my brother, afraid of not finding him. Afraid of having to go back… just afraid. ”

One final tear escapes from your eye as you try your hardest not to get worked up again. Before you can reach up and wipe it away, you feel a gloved hand gently touching the side of your cheek. It happened so fast, you don’t know how to react. His thumb starts to slowly graze your cheek, wiping away the single tear that escaped.

“It’s okay to be afraid sometimes” He affirmed.

Body reacting before the mind, you lean your head into his palm, extremely grateful for the comfort. It has been an emotional rollercoaster the past few weeks. It feels nice for someone to offer you some sort of validation. Even if it’s from the Mandalorian who has been the reason for your emotional turmoil.

As soon as your cheek leans into his palm, he yanks his hand back so quick your head jerks. Oh no… why did I do that? Maker, I am such a dumbass. Not seeming to be able to make your body move, you drop your head to the floor and keep your eyes trained on your bare feet.

“No… I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I just… don’t…” he lets out a long sigh without saying anything else.

Too embarrassed to look up at him, you start to back away. “No, no it’s okay. I’m sorry I’m just so… overwhelmed. ” You begin. “I have been… awful to you… and I’m sorry. Everything is just all over the place. You have been kind to me. Not turning me in… that was something hardly anyone would’ve done, and I should be grateful. Buying me a pair of boots? That was also something nobody has ever done for me. It just threw me for a loop. I’m sorry I keep making the situation worse.”

Before he can say anything else, you are quickly whipping yourself up the ladder and into the co-pilot's seat. This is a safe spot where you can’t screw up anything else. What were you thinking? It probably gave him the wrong impression when you leaned your cheek into his hand. That’s the thing, it was not a reaction you had thought about. It’s like it just occurred naturally. Now, he probably thinks you are absolutely crazy if he didn’t already. The last thing you needed was him thinking you had a thing for him or something. He already hates you, you just know it.

Or does he? Your thoughts interrupt your thinking. He did just go way out of his way to buy you a brand new pair of boots. He cared enough to notice you were running around here barefoot. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him. Maybe it was nothing.

Maker, why does this ship have to be so damn small. It’s not like you can hide from him forever. For now, though, you are going to avoid him as much as possible. It was stupid of you to think that for a moment, the tension between the two of you would finally stop. You keep finding ways to make it worse. Maybe you should just lock yourself in the bunk and never talk to him again.

------

It has been so awkward in here now. If anything, you miss the tension that was filled with anger, not this uncomfortable silence. Once again, you two are in the not speaking phase. How do we keep getting here? You got to give it to him, though, he is a trooper for not throwing you out on your ass yet. You’d tried talking to him, but every time you’d gone to say something you’d just clammed up.

So the last three days have been spent sitting in silence together in the cockpit and sneaking away to care for the kid when you can. You have been using the kid as much as possible to provide an escape when the air is too thick. That happens more than you want to admit. He can only stay awake for so long, though. He is about the sleepiest little creature you have ever laid eyes on.

Since he is currently napping, you find yourself having nothing to do but sit here, in complete silence, with Mando in the cockpit. He won’t even as much as look at you. He just keeps pressing little buttons here and there and fidgeting with the controls. You watch his arms as they flex. He has nice arms. Actually, he has nice everything. Your thoughts take you by surprise, bringing a puzzled look to your face as you try to push the thoughts aside.

He starts spinning his fingers around in mid-air like he is trying to decide what button is appropriate to hit. It looks like he is doing anything he can to stay busy and not make conversation with you. Maker, you can’t take this anymore.

“Mando?” It comes out as a squeak, with no confidence behind the question whatsoever.

His hand freezes, hovering above the controls before he slowly turns his chair in your direction. Making no sound, you assume that is your cue to continue.

“Wh-where are we going next?” Wanting to ask about when you guys will start looking for your brother, you try to steer the conversation in that direction. You reach up and twirl a stray lock of hair around your fingers, anxious about his response.

“Not a very nice place,” he replies. Silence fills the cockpit as you wait for the answer to your question. “Corellia,” he adds without further explanation.

Trying not to sink down in defeat, you decide to ask about your brother later. This is not the time to add more tension to the pile.

A thought suddenly pops up in your head. Is Corellia pretty? Does it have water? An ocean? Maybe flowers? It has been so long since you have even seen the outside of this ship.

“Is Corellia… pretty?” The question comes out without a single thought.

He continues to stare at you without any movement. “It’s… something. A lot of architecture. There are some pretty places I guess… it’s just… rare.”

Architecture . “You mean like a city?” You question.

“Yeah, pretty big city… why?” He asks.

“I just… wanted to get a picture of what it was like… you know...” clearing your throat, you continue. “I… I have just been stuck in here for what… almost two weeks now?” hoping he understands what you are trying to ask, you stop talking. Your eyes plead with him by staring into the part of the visor you imagine to be where his eyes are.

“You… want to go out?” He asks. “Is that what you are trying to get at?”

Your finger has become tangled in that one strand of hair. This whole situation has put you on edge.

“I just… I’m going a little stir crazy. Especially for someone who has never left Tatooine. I had just hoped… maybe I could see… something ?” you struggle to find the right words, but continue, “... grass. I have always wanted to see grass.” A big smile spreads across your face as you imagine the scene.

“Oh, and flowers! I imagine they are just as beautiful as they seem. And water? I would love to see water… Like a body of water. I never even saw as much as a drop of rain on Tatooine. Always imagined seeing a large body of water. Could you just imagine? Water… in abundance? It’s unheard of!” Realizing how dumb you must sound, you try to elaborate. “Well, of course not unheard of for you I-”

“Woah, slow down there, little bird,” his hands shoot up, signaling for you to stop talking. “All in good time. You will get to see those things if you stick around long enough.”

Maker, you sure know how to ramble. Wait a minute, stick around long enough? How long does he expect you to stay?

“Depends how long it takes to find my brother,” your smile starts to fade as the words leave your mouth. Realizing you probably shouldn’t have said that, you look up to see if he has any reaction.

“Don’t worry little bird… we will find him. I just have to have the money for fuel to start searching.” He stops for a moment and clears his throat,  “That is why we are going to Corellia, big money, you know, kind of like you,” he jokes.

The statement doesn’t make you angry this time. Instead, you find yourself starting to let out a small laugh. He just made a joke with you, maybe he doesn’t hate you.

“You bet your ass I am,” you joke back. He lets out a slight chuckle. It takes you by complete surprise.

“What was that? Does he laugh? Wow, he’s human? Thought you were some sort of droid.” Laughter erupts from you. Before you can stop it, a snort escapes from your nose. Your hand comes up quickly and slams over your mouth and nose.

“That was… cute,” he shoots back at you sarcastically.

Your face is bright red. It is absolutely horrific when you snort like that. Granted, you hadn’t laughed in a long time, so you had forgotten it was a habit of yours. For some reason, even though he meant it sarcastically, you were hung up on the word “ cute ” coming out of his mouth.

“Alright, Tauntaun, I need to focus here and get us landed on Corellia safely.” He swivels around in his chair and gently places his fingers on the steering bar.

“Tauntaun? What is that?” The question comes out in a defensive tone.

“Hideous creatures, they make awful snorting sounds… I hate them,” is his only reply.

It’s quiet for a few moments as you watch him begin to land the ship. Not even thinking twice about it, the fact that he adds to his last statement absolutely shocks you.

“Only the snorting part,” he says quietly, feeling the need to clarify, “you’re definitely not hideous, and I do not hate you.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. He doesn’t hate me… and he doesn’t think I’m hideous. Does that mean he thinks I’m- Your thoughts are interrupted by how roughly the ship hits the ground. It startles you and jerks you almost completely out of your seat.

Suddenly, a spark shoots out of one of the buttons on the dash of the Crest. A screech escapes your lips as you hear a loud zapping sound. Sealing your eyes shut, you wait in silence for a few minutes, just knowing the damn ship is on fire. When nothing happens, you slowly open up one eye and see smoke shooting from the control panel.

“Dank Ferrick!” Mando shouts in frustration.

With wide eyes, you shoot him a horrified glance. All he manages to do is turn around, look at you, and raise his arms in the air. He shakes his head before letting out a loud sigh. Getting up slowly, he walks over to the other side of the cockpit and grabs a little box stashed above the doorway. Guess he’s a handyman now.  

------

Mando has been working on the ship for a few hours now, grappling with different tools and wires, mouthing off about the repair guy that was last under here - even though you were pretty sure it was him. The whole time has been spent with you talking his ears off, asking him about the planet you had landed on. When you look outside, you can see a huge city in the distance. Immediately surrounding you, though, is a greenery patch. There is actual grass on the ground outside, and a few trees. They taunt you as they dance in the wind.

Pressing your face to the glass, you try to make out every detail of the scenery below you. It doesn’t even bother you that you look like a complete child right now, eyes wide and excited with wonder.

“Alright, I think that does it,” Mando says beside you as he bangs a few tools in a box and shoves it back into a small spot on a shelf.

It hardly registers in your ears. You’re too focused on the beautiful scenery outside to focus on anything else.

“Hey, little bird.” He snaps you out of your trance. “Let’s go,” he grabs at your arm and lightly tugs at it, beckoning for you to follow him.

Following him without question, you get to the ladder behind him and let him go first. You place your foot on the top rung and start to slowly descend the ladder. Your movements are clunky and fast in an attempt to get down the ladder quickly; your foot slips and you lose your balance momentarily.  

A strong hand slides up against your back and steadies you, fingers wrapping around your waist and holding you firmly to the ladder. Electrifying : that is the only word that rattles through your head as you feel his hand hold you there for a few seconds too long. Your thoughts get fuzzy, and it’s like you forget how to move… even breathe for that matter.

“You good?” comes ringing out from behind you. Painfully aware that his hand is still there, you feel the leather warming your skin beneath your shirt - the slight pressure causing your breath to catch in your throat. He reaches the side of your waist and gives a gentle squeeze. Maker, what is wrong with me?  

Shaking your head to try and regain your thoughts, you finally reply. “Yeah,” you clear your throat, “ I’m good,” is all you can manage to squeak out.

A loud coo snaps you out of your trance. Looking down, you can see that your newfound friend has awakened from his long nap. He is standing at Mando’s ankle, little hands wrapped around his calf, hands tugging on his pant leg. He looks up at you and perks his ears to the side while making another loud coo.

“Hey, kiddo,” Mando says as he takes his hand off your back. He swoops down to pick him up. The child lets out a small squeal as he lifts him. He is the cutest kid in the whole galaxy, that’s for certain.

“Come on, let’s go.” Mando’s voice huffs over his shoulder as he turns with the infant in his arms.

“Go? Go where?” you respond, confused.

“I thought you wanted to frolic in the grass or something?” he says as he holds the baby on his hip. “There isn’t much, but I landed us somewhere you could at least see a little.” He continues. “Let’s go for a walk.” The kid lets out a shriek as he reaches for the floor. He must want to go on a walk just as bad as you. Mando sets him back down, and you watch as he waddles away towards his pod.

“You… you landed us here so that I could go outside?” The thought of him once again doing something like this for you makes you melt. He has been incredibly thoughtful to you lately, to the point you have questioned his motives. Maybe his actions have been what is making you have these random thoughts and reactions to him. Nobody has ever done anything like this for you before, so you don’t know how to react. It couldn’t possibly be that you are attracted to him. At least you think .

He continues to stare at you in silence. “Mando, this will be the first time I have ever stepped off the planet of Tatooine. This is… this is…. “ the words just don’t seem to come, “this is a first for me,” you settle on.

“I can make first’s very exciting.” his voice comes out low, and rough through the modulator as he leans his body in towards you. Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, he clears his throat and takes a step back.

Did he just… Your face flushes bright red as you quickly drop your head to the floor and clear your throat. Maker, what did he just say?

“I umm...I didn’t mean… “ His voice tapers off. He brings his hand up behind his helmet as he rubs the back of his neck. He clears his throat again and takes a few more steps back. Silence fills the hull of the cockpit as you both stand beside each other awkwardly.

“It’s okay… let’s just go,’ you squeak out as you speed past him. His statement had made you a little bit dizzy, and there was a really warm feeling in the pit of your belly. This is not the time for this, focus on your brother. You are not attracted to him… you are not attracted to him… you are not-

“That’s not the right button to get out,” Mando says behind you. Looking up, you notice you are just fumbling around, looking for any way to escape the tension you are feeling in this room. Your hand is hovering over the compact activator. For fucks sake . You turn away, hiding your cheeks from his gaze.

His footsteps echo across the floor as he moves closer to you to open the door. His hand reaches out beside your head and slowly pushes into the button right under your fingers. You continue standing there, watching the gloved fingers press down on the button, the glow bright enough to illuminate the activation of the door release. You didn’t want him to know how badly his statement had affected you, but it was becoming obvious.

His hand lingers there for a few seconds before dropping to his sides. Silence still hanging in the air between the two of you, you hear the ramp unseal from its clasps. The summersaults lurch around your stomach with the lingering anticipation of the lowering ramp. Bright light instantly pours into the room as the outside world starts to open up to you.

You watch in excitement as the tops of some trees outside start to become visible. The light is so bright that you have to squint your eyes when it finally touches your face. The wind is overpowering, whooshing and hissing all around you. It’s a little overwhelming if you’re honest with yourself but the promise of this new discovery has you almost bouncing in place. You step back a little, feeling your back bump right into the front of his chest.

The cool beskar feels smooth against your back, as solid as the man wearing it. A shiver runs through your body when he stands there, unmoving. Your breath comes up short in your throat, waiting for him to say something, but he never does.  

Too excited to see the outside world, you don’t move away from him. To be honest, you are a little bit intimidated, and being so close to him makes you feel slightly protected in this unknown place you’re about to step into.  

You close your eyes for a moment to moisten your eyes that have become dry from the wind. You listen to everything around you, the grass swaying in the breeze, leaves falling from a nearby tree, some kind of bird singing a tune to his love… It’s magical in the sense that it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You breathe in the world ahead and open your eyes, bracing yourself for what you are about to see.

The scene before you is absolutely… breathtaking. On instinct, and maybe from a little fear, you reach back and grab Mando’s forearm. Your intentions were to grab a hold of his arm and get his attention, but as soon as your hand made contact with him, a burning sensation in the back of your throat pushes its way past the wall you’d built. Tears begin to well up in your eyes once you look ahead. You keep trying to talk, to just say anything, but the only puff of air that comes out is a slight squeak, so you just squeeze his forearm a little as you hold it there.

You feel another hand reach up to your side and give a gentle squeeze. He holds his hand there, letting you take in the scene before you. The reassurance means more than he will ever know. Here you are, however many lightyears away from home, seeing things for the first time ever, and behind you was this man letting you know it is okay to feel .

It’s almost exactly as you pictured it. It’s so… green. And it’s everywhere, in the trees, on the ground, in every inch of your vision. There are little colorful dots splattered in the palette, different shapes and sizes of plants all over. The sunshine burns through the trees in warm rays. You can hear the sound of something absolutely roaring all around you… what is that?

You feel a slight push on your back nudging you to move forward making you gasp suddenly as you realize your hand is still holding a death grip on his forearm. While his other hand is prompting you to move forward, Mando continues pushing your body down the ramp, prompting you to take your first steps into the greenery.

You stumble over your own feet a little before finding movement in them again. He chuckles quietly to himself behind you, finding amusement in the fact you almost fell right onto your face. Turning around, you give him a mean look.

“Have you forgotten how to walk?” he questions. He gives it a nod, encouraging you to keep moving forward, taking one small step before the next. His hand pushes into your back once again as you continue to give him an ugly stare. Nothing is meant by it, of course, you are only teasing him.

“Come on little bird, time to fly,” he says.

You can’t stop the soft smile that begins to spread across your face as you turn back to look ahead at the world around you. The black visor stays trained on you as you finally find the courage to move your feet. Baby steps, this isn't supposed to be scary.

Taking in a deep breath, you finally move one foot in front of the other, the new leather of your boots making a small squeak with each step. You hadn’t broken the boots in yet, and they were a size too big, so they made you more clumsy than normal.

A squeal pierces through the air as the kid takes off waddling down the ramp. He is going way too fast for his little legs. You watch in horror as he stumbles over the bottom of his robe and tumbles down the rest of the ramp. His little body rolls all the way down into a patch of grass at the bottom of the Crest. Waiting for a cry out, you and Mando freeze. To your surprise, the kid just slowly sets himself upright and looks in your direction.

He had fallen right into some sort of flower and had made the whole thing explode into a thousand tiny pieces that floated away into the wind. A cute little sneeze erupts from his tiny body, causing him to fall back over on his butt, a squeal coming from him as he looks up at you with those big dark eyes.

A giggle escapes your lips as you watch him look at you for help, arms stretched out overhead and fingers grabbing at the air. Letting go of Mando’s forearm, you take off towards him and take a step onto the cold, hard, dirt - feet sinking into the ground slightly as you introduce it to the full weight of your body. Dirt … it feels so much softer than sand. A wave of euphoria washes over your body, causing you to take off jogging. Running a few feet from the Crest, you bring your feet to a jolting halt right in the middle of a patch of flowers.

Careful not to crush a single one of the beautiful plants, you plant your feet into a small patch of dirt right in the thick of them. Red, yellow, green, blue… just every color you can think of scatters across the ground all around you. A sweet smell fills your nostrils as you take a deep inhale.

There is a specific one right beside your boot that catches your attention. Something about it just sticks out above the rest. It is red and yellow in color and has a strange shape to it. It actually looks like multiple flowers piled onto a long stem. This is my favorite flower. It does not matter that you had never seen another, the only thing that mattered was how happy the cute little plant made you feel. You bend over and pluck it gently from the ground. The sweet smell fills your nose as you bring it up to your face. It tickles the bottom of your nostrils, making you let out a jolting sneeze.

Turning around, you want to show Mando how pretty the flower is. Surely, he would think it to be the most beautiful of them all. There he stood, at the bottom of the ramp, just watching you in silence. His right leg was stretched out in front of the other, and he had crossed his arms in amusement. He was slowly shaking his head as he witnessed the scene before him. More than likely, you did look like a maniac right now, but that didn’t matter to you.

“Mando! Look what I found!” You shout as you sprint towards him. Your fist carefully encloses the flower so as not to crush it.

“What is it?” He says flatly. It didn’t seem as though he was anywhere as amused as you were.

Stopping right in front of him, you look down at the delicate plant in your hand.

“I’m not sure… what is it called?” You question as you push the flower up to his helmet. Hopefully, he knew what it was called. Surely he has encountered one of these along with one of his many adventures through the galaxy. He grabs the flower and brings it up to his visor, rolling it around in his gloves a few times to inspect it.

“Looks like a Jebwa Flower, they are native to this planet.” He says softly. He lowers the flower back down for you, inviting you to take it back. The leather on his gloves lightly brushes against your bare hand as you take it back.

“ Jebwa flower…” you test the name out on your tongue. “It is now my favorite flower.” You say as you wiggle your eyebrows.

“It’s the only flower you’ve ever seen. How is it your favorite?” He questions. His helmet turns to the side in a questioning manner.

“It just is, shiny.” You say as you give him a perky smile. He lets out a sigh and starts to shake his head.

“I thought we were going for a walk?” You suddenly remember. “I want to see everything .”

“Fine, let’s go,” he replies. He starts to walk in the direction of the kid, taking the pod with him. The kid squeals as he reaches his little arms into the air. Mando picks him up gently and places him into his pod. The kid looks up at him and lets out a little coo. Mados helmet turns to face you, and jerks in his general direction. That must be your cue to follow him.

Joining him at his side, the two of you start to venture out into the forest beyond the Crest. There is a walking path that you assume leads to the city you saw in the distance. The trail is lined with greenery on each side. The trees provide appropriate shading that keeps you from getting overheated. Everything along the way makes you gawk in awe. It was all so pretty. Mando’s arm had to be sore at this point from how many times you had grabbed it trying to get his attention. Of course, he had probably already seen it all at least one-hundred times if not more.  

By the time the two of you had walked for ten minutes or more, you had concluded every single flower you came across was your favorite. Every single time, Mando would shake his head in response to your silly statements. It was unclear which flower was your favorite because everything here seemed to keep surprising you.

You look over at your quiet companion as the both of you continue on the path. He is so… large. Your eyes start at the top of his helmet examining every single curve it takes around his head. I wonder what he looks like under there . He could be as green as the kid for all you know. The fact that you had never seen even an inch of his skin, didn’t stop him from being attractive .

There’s just something about him, something that you cannot quite put your finger on. Something that absolutely radiates off of him. Everything he does, the way he walks, the way he carries himself, his voice… it leaves you with a constant feeling of curiosity.

Scanning your eyes over him, you trail down his broad shoulders, noticing the way the pauldrons sit perfectly over each shoulder. The chest plate resting across the expanse of him… You look down further, noticing his hands… shit … His hands were massive. His fingers alone were probably twice the size of yours.  Realizing you were practically undressing him with your eyes, you quickly glance back up to his helmet, hoping he hasn’t caught you looking at him. When you see that his visor is still focused on the path before him, you begin to start thinking again, your mind wandering off in an endless stream of thought.

I wonder what color his hair is… how long is it? What color are his eyes? Are they kind? Are they angry? Haunted? You didn’t have the slightest clue, and you were too afraid to ask. He was probably ridiculously gorgeous under there. What irony, being beautiful and never being able to show it. He probably had soft, delicate skin… maybe some light facial hair. What about his lips? I bet they’re soft… warm to the touch .

You stop yourself quickly, wondering what the hell has gotten into you. Why are you thinking about him like that? It had to be the fact that you hadn’t been laid in such a long time. That is what you settled for. Your brain was just scratching at an inch that hadn’t been in a very long time.

Your thoughts are cut short when you notice Mando has stopped and is examining some sort of fruit in the shrubbery to your left. You see a whole patch of the same fruit to your right and make your way over to it.

The entire fruit was so similar to something you’d eaten before back home, but yet, it was completely different. The outer shell had the softest fuzz surrounding it, tickling your hands when you grasped it. It looked exactly like some of the fruit Mando kept in the Crest so naturally, you’d picked it and decided it would make a great snack for the walk back. What you hadn’t accounted for was the fact that the ones on the Crest were purple and these were blue.

When ripe, the fruit posed no harm and were in fact, delicious. But before they were ripe, they were firm, sour, and contained a toxin that unbeknownst to you, was a powerful aphrodisiac. This posed one of several problems. One, you were currently in no position to be taking such a powerful aphrodisiac. Two, Mando was likely unaware of the full truth to your attraction towards him. And three, it had been a long, long time since you’d gotten laid - so even without it, you didn’t need much encouragement to get your rocks off.

You’d taken one bite and the toxins instantly started to set in, creeping into your veins and finding their way to the deepest parts of your body, making you desperate to eat more. The juice from this magical fruit dripped down your chin as you bit into it over and over again. Creating the illusion that you were starving, you devoured it, despite it tasting sour and unlike the ones on the ship which were sweet in comparison. You scowled before taking another bite and shrugging and continuing munching.

“What are you eating?” Mando yelled at you, swatting the fruit out of your hand.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with that!” you frowned, looking down at the half-eaten core on the ground. You pouted, your bottom lip protruding out, “what gives?”

“You can’t eat that,” he shook his head in frustration, looking up at the sky, “I swear it’s like having two children,” you hear him whisper.

“I am not a child!” you swing back around looking at him, the turn making you dizzy. He reaches out to steady you and you glance up at him, the feelings from before on the ladder in the Crest surfacing again. He really is an incredible man, despite the rough and tough exterior he puts on for everyone else. You notice his shoulders, broad and expanding past your narrow ones, the feeling of them under your hands.

Your face tingles slightly, the effects of your forbidden fruit taking hold quicker than either of you had expected. “Oh-” you giggle, the funny feeling in your chest radiating out towards your limbs.

“Mando, I feel funny,” you laugh, making a slight squealing when he grabs your arm and starts to walk you back towards the Crest. Your laughter grows, turning from the small giggle into a full belly laugh, little snorts and hiccups sneaking out from under your hand clasped over your mouth.

“Yeah, no shit,” he doesn’t bother looking at you but instead, drags your now drunken frame along beside him, sighing audibly through his helmet.

You follow, waving your arms around wildly as the toxin weaves its way through your system. You feel warmth, especially in places you weren’t expecting to feel it. Leaning on his shoulder, you look up and pout your bottom lip out, eyes big and wide as you attempt to plead with him.

“Maaaanndooo,” a slightly more annoying than cute whine comes out of your lips, “am I gonna die?” you giggle, clearly very serious.

He sighs through his frustration with your current state, “no… you will not die from that particular fruit...”

“Soooo... what’s gonna happen,” you ask running your hand up to his arm, your inner inhibitions coming to the surface and taking over. You feel the muscles under the fabric tense with your touch, continuing on the path from the top of his bracer towards his shoulder.

You smile sweetly up at him, a hint of devilish intentions lying beneath the surface as you ask, “Am I gonna die?” Your fingers walk across his chest, moving lower and lower before his hand reaches out and grabs you around the wrist and stops you from moving any lower.

“Maker, I just might…” he whispers, almost quiet enough that you didn’t catch it. You laugh, skipping off ahead of him. You hold your arms out wide and spin circles on the path, letting the drunkenness saturate your veins. You’d been drunk plenty before and this felt no different except for a few small details . For starters, you felt hot. Burning in fact. To the point where you could completely strip naked and that still wouldn’t be enough. And secondly, your nerves seemed to be literally electrified. The way the wind blew over your skin practically brought you close to orgasm. Every hair on your body was standing on end, alert and aware.

“Mandoooo,” your voice carries in a sing-song tone, “I’m hot Mando,” you whine, fanning your cheeks as they flushed with bright pink. A sheen slicks over your skin when you break out in a cool sweat. You shake your body as you walk towards the path, the crest coming into view. Your hips move from side to side as your hands slide down your sides, grabbing the hem of your shirt.

The fabric lifts up and over your head as you peel the shirt from your body and fling it to the side of the path. The breeze brushes against your skin, prickling every fiber in your being. Your breasts tighten and pucker against the cold air making you shiver.

“Mando, I feel so…” you pause and turn, coming face to face with the Mandalorian that had been trailing behind you. His chest armor brushed against your nipples, hardening them into tight peaks. A gasp escapes your lips as your hands find their way up to his chest towards his shoulders, feeling the strength of the beskar under your fingertips.

“I know,” he growls, desperately trying not to look down at your chest. You grab his hand and pull it to your chest, a pleading look pulling across your face. Your tongue darts across your lips as you pant when the leather finally touches your fevered skin.

A gentle “ please ” escapes your lips as you squeeze his hand around your breast. You feel him grasp you gently before a groan comes out from deep in his chest and he takes a firmer hold of you, pulling you in closer. His other hand comes around, gripping your back before moving down to cup one side of your skirt before he lets go, a frustrated groan escaping.

Unable to keep still through the torture, you turn and run up towards the ramp of the crest, the child’s pod glides up the ramp as you waive drunkenly to him as he passes by. Footsteps crunch up behind you as Mando joins you, beeping a few buttons on his wrist to secure him behind a metal door to rest.

“Mesh’la…” he whispers, cupping your neck and pulling your forehead down to his helmet, “I can’t do this when you’re love drunk. It’s just not…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “it’s not right…” he twists his head, pulling away like he’s in pain and when you look down to see him adjusting the large bulge between his legs, you can see why.

“When was the last time he’d been taken care of,” you wonder. The last time he’s experienced the feeling of someone warm beneath him. Was she pretty? Did she take care of him as much as he took care of her? Did he cum? What did he taste like?

“Let me take care of you then,” the words were out before you even realized what you’d said. Your head was fuzzy with toxin and lust, ideas floating around as you push him backward deeper into the crest towards a pile of crates. You force him to sit down on your makeshift cot, his knees buckling as you push him back on the edge...

He whispers your name, hands sliding up your thighs as you stand there, bare in front of him, “but… I -” he was at a loss for words, unsure of which direction to go. Here was this fiery woman ready to take care of him but deep down in his gut, all he wanted was to do the same. There was an element of control you knew he wasn’t fully able to give up.

“Just… watch,” you whisper, hands sliding up your stomach to your breasts as you gently grasp each one. You feel the soft skin under your fingertips and close your eyes, moaning slightly. With each moan you see his legs widening and the bulge between his thighs hardening. You rub your thighs together, feeling the wetness spreading between your legs.

Leaning down, you slowly bunch your skirt up, lick your hand and let it slide up your leg, and slip it between your thighs. You hear him groan at the sight, feeling a new wave of pleasure coming into your belly and spreading throughout your body. Rotating your fingers in circles with your hips, the sensation is driving you wild. Apparently, you’re not the only one, because you open your eyes to see his hand gently stroking over his pants. Grasping the thick fabric and what lies beneath - the sight alone drives you wild.

You turn away, pushing yourself out of your skirt and bending forward to give him a view of your perfectly round ass. The strangled sound that comes from behind you is almost a choking sound, but one of pleasure.

You get down onto your hands and knees, turning around to face him as you start to crawl forward, hair wildly falling around your face and shoulders. The cold floor feels smooth under your palms and knees as you crawl one step at a time towards where the Mandalorian is sitting, legs spread and waiting.

“I can’t - little bird…” he bites out, “careful now…” his voice was low, breaths coming out in shallow as your hands moved up and down his thighs. “Not when you’re like this,” his head rolled back, clearly regretting the words as they came out of his mouth.

“Shhhh,” you whispered, moving your hands up and down his thighs feeling his strong muscles clenching and unclenching under your hands. Your hand slides down to his buttons as you undo them one at a time, “I just want to make you feel good.”

He whispers your name again, his hands sliding to yours to stop you. He just looks at you through his helmet before he moves his arms up your arms until his hands reach your face, leaning forward and cupping your cheeks.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

Your eyes close and nod, hand coming up and touching the cold leather encasing the fingers you’d caught yourself thinking about when you watched him in the cockpit.

When they open, you slide your hands lower towards the center you desperately want. Firmly grasping the outside of his pants, you squeeze, his hips flexing upwards into your palm. His head rolls back and his legs spread wider as you lick your lips again already imagining the taste of him on your tongue. Reaching under the fabric, your hand is met with something warm and firm, the flesh pulsing below your grasp. At this point you can barely stand it, the pressure between your legs has built to an almost unbearable level that you think you’re going to explode as you nearly rip the fabric open and him from his pants.

Your eyes widen in pleasure and surprise at his size. Excitement floods to your core, a trail of evidence proving how soaked you are sliding down your leg already. You wet your mouth before leaning forward and grasping him in your hands. You pump your hand once slowly with a soft grasp, then again firmer before continuing with this motion.

He groans at your touch, your fingers moving softly up and down. You watch the way the skin moves, a clear bead bubbling at the very tip. You can't help yourself, thumb brushing over the top to roll the bead over the pink skin in an effort to tease him, squeezing and pulling in all the right ways. His hips push up slightly into your hand as his head rolls back again against the wall of the Crest, making a loud crack against the metal.

“Fu - fuck,” he groans your name loudly from under his helmet between breaths, “gah -shi… I need, fuck,” he sounds pained, barely in control of himself. This is exactly how you wanted him, exposed, open to you.

“Look at me, Mando,” you whisper, a shiver running over you as the breeze blows into the crest and over your bare breasts. A trail of spit falls from your mouth and between your breasts, getting them slick as you move forward and slide him between them. Lids half-closed, one of your hands in your hair, you move him slightly around between your breasts. The slick moisture you’d spit letting him glide between them with little effort.

A strangled noise comes from deep within him as he reaches up and takes his thumb, sticking it in your mouth. Instantly you know what he wants, taking him in and letting your tongue dart around. Your hand comes down to your breasts and squeezes them together, letting him pump himself in and out.

“ Fuck-” he grits out, “Y-you’re so fucking perf-” he groans when you gently bite down, eyes fixated on him. “I need - fuck, I can’t… do, ungh” his chest is rising and falling in heavy breaths.

“Take me Mando, please,” you beg.

“I can’t… I,” he groans as you pull away, “not like this. I can’t have our first time be like this…”

You look up at him and let one of your hands drift lower towards the center of your legs, “will you fuck my mouth instead?”

He’s silent as he thinks, clearly waging a war inside himself. It’s obvious how badly he wants you. He doesn’t answer in words, but the way he opens his thighs slightly and his throbs in your palm - it’s an answer enough in itself. You lean forward, lifting his shirt to press your lips to his fevered skin. You smile, realizing you’ve never actually seen his skin before.

It’s perfectly tan, despite being covered at all times, with a small covering of hair leading from his stomach to the most gorgeously shaped cock you think you’d ever seen. The kisses turn rougher, more of a sucking - biting. Leaving these small marks where no one else will see them which ignites something in you. Knowing he will have to walk around and collect vicious men with your mark on him.

You pull back, looking at your work to see the dark red marks left behind. A smile spreads over your lips as you lean forward, taking his hard cock in your hand and bringing him close to your lips.

“Talk to me,” you whisper to him, “if you won’t take me as your own, at least let me hear your voice as I…”

He cuts you off, “you’re going to a- actually be the dea...death of me, little bird, ” you can hear the strain in his voice, despite the modulator. The restraint he’s showing is impressive.

He’s been tortured enough, and at this point so had you - the pulsing in between your legs was so fierce you were on the edge of a complete full-body orgasm. Eyes looking up towards him, you lean in, opening your lips to let the tip of his cock rest on your tongue. As soon as the pink head rests on your tongue, he flinches forward, hissing as a hand snakes through your hair. A long “ fuuuck, ” hisses out from his helmet.

You open your jaw, letting him slip in a few inches before you slide back out and swirl your tongue around the tip. Tasting the salt and skin, you moan with him in your mouth.

“Y- your mouth…” he gasps, “fu-ck it’s s..so good…” he breathes.

Slowly, your head begins bobbing up and down, dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of him, making him pulse harder into your mouth. Your hand slips between your legs and you slowly slip between your folds, circling your tight bud of nerves. His grip on your hair tightens, moving your head slightly so he can watch both at the same time.

“Keep going, little b-bird… kee… fuc-fu-fuck… f-fuckfuckfuck,” his hips start rolling up into you as his control snaps. Your jaw feels tight around him, his cock completely filling your mouth with inches to go.

Angling your head slightly, you allow your throat to open to let him slip deeper into your mouth. You feel the head of him pushing against the back of your throat, your head still in his hand grips tighter around your hair and pulls you into him. Gagging slightly, he groans, before letting go and giving you a moment to breathe.

“Maker, you’re su-such a good girl ,” he pants, “ca-can you do that… again - do it… again for me?”

You wipe the wet off your face with the back of your hand and nod, opening your mouth again to let him guide himself into your mouth. You close your eyes and open your jaw, letting him in as deep as you can before feeling that burning at the back of your throat. You groan around him, making him jump, “ju-fuck… just like ngh,” he swears.

Letting you go, you continue on with your attack, bobbing your head while your jaw is practically on fire around him. The pain radiating down your throat is turning to pleasure as you rub yourself frantically, praying to the maker for release. Edging the two of you closer, you can feel your fingers slipping easier and easier between your folds.

“I-ng gon-a c-m” you say around his cock, blurry eyes fixated on the marks you left on him earlier. Just as your orgasm hits, he feels his own hitting and in the attempt to pull away from you, you open your mouth wider, sliding him into your throat and letting him spray himself deep into your mouth. You can taste him sliding down your throat, the saltness settling in your belly. Both of you ride through this wave of ecstasy together, the stars exploding from you and ending with him.

Spent, exhausted, and suddenly coming down from the toxins, you shiver and realize that the ramp is completely down to the crest. Anyone could’ve potentially walked by and have seen what you just did to him. Noticing your shift, Mando stuffs himself back in his pants, unclips his cape, and wraps it gently around your shoulders.

“You’re ok…” is all he says before he gets up and walks to the fresher. As soon as the door closes, you scramble to gather your clothes, pulling them on one at a time. You didn’t even notice him emerge from behind you with a wet piece of fabric.

“Here,” he hands it at you, waiting for you to take it, “you know… to uh, clean up.” he shuffles on his feet from one side to the other. Ok so maybe he was just as uncomfortable as you were. But he was just as into this as you were, wasn’t he? Did he not want this?