#tatk

“That is a wild accusation to make accountin’ for the circumstance,” Jack grunted, dropping the deer across the table and whistling for Glauco to attend to his duties as the gang’s butcher.

“The circumstances bein’ that you just couldn’t keep your hands off that bandit camp, you stupid bastard?”

Works’ spine went rigid. “What is she talking about?”

Jack waved a dismissive hand once wiping both of them clean of blood using the rag on the table. “I’m not gettin’ into it now. We have enough money to get us through another month, not that I’d been hearin’ any gratitude about that this whole time.”

He headed to the shacks they called home for the time being, and Works stepped aside for a grumpy, tired Glauco to begin the process of prepping the game.

Works only registered the height of his own irritation when EJ gripped his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody got hurt, not even the bandits.”

“Did he remember that we’re looking after two children? Did an inkling of a thought cross his brutish brain to make sure you weren’t followed by a vengeful thief?”

“No, but it crossed mine.” EJ pushed Works a little to make sure he was able to focus on her. “Works. Settle down. He did a dumb thing and I know you hate when he does stuff like that, but I handled it.”

He took a deep breath, watching Jack shut the door to the shack he shared with EJ. “Those bandits have wanted Jack’s head ever since their last altercation.”

“I know, Works. I handled it.”

Works met her stare again and he outwardly calmed. He could hear the high-pitched giggling of Noya and Cady coming from around the tents, somewhat hidden in the dark of night and the shadows cast by the fire at the center of camp. He let that soothe him enough that he could project levelheadedness to EJ through his expression, though inwardly he felt anything but. “Right.”

EJ narrowed her eyes, wary. “You gonna let it go?”

“I’ll let it go.”

“Alright.” She let him go, brushing her palm over the front of his vest to clear it of dust from the air. She patted Glauco on the back and followed the sound of the girls past the fire.

Works made an immediate beeline for the shacks, taking care not to draw too much attention to himself sneaking inside and easing the door shut behind him. He turned to Jack, whose back was to him at the bedroll on the floor as he seemed to have gotten distracted by a book in the middle of preparing to settle down for the night.

“You wouldn’t kill a man with his back turned, would ya, McCoy?” Jack asked, voice smooth as silk but just as deadly.

“I didn’t come here to kill you,” Works snapped. “But I do want to make it clear that your recklessness could get us all killed down the line. Including those young girls. And if something were to happen to them...”

Jack snapped the book shut and swung around to him, a curious smirk pitching a corner of his mouth upward. His suspenders hung loosely at his sides. “Would you kill me then?”

“It’s not beyond the realm of my capabilities.”

“I believe that.” Jack nodded, sincerity in his tone. “No, I do, I believe that. You’re very protective of those girls, and we thank you for it. I’m not the smartest man around, y’know. That may be you, actually.” He tossed the book onto the bedroll. “But I’d like to think I wouldn’t get those girls hurt on purpose.”

Works set his jaw, peering up as Jack moved closer, the warmth of the oil lamp offsetting the stoniness of his eyes. When Jack stopped in front of him, using a single finger to push the corner of his handkerchief into the pocket of his vest, Works didn’t blink. “It stops now. Jobs need to be calculated and meticulously planned if we’re expected to last to the end of the year. Your particular brand of foolishness is a liability I’m not sure I can abide any longer.”

Jack balled the front of Works’ vest into his large hands and shoved him into the wall hard enough to knock the back of his head against the old wood, gritting his teeth. “Best not to forget where you stand here, McCoy,” he hissed.

“If you think you can intimidate me more than buckshot in my side at point-blank range, then by all means, put your back into it,” Works spat. “Be the leader you claim to be and put me in my place.”

The silence that followed was unexpected. An unrecognizable sentiment flashed through Jack’s eyes. He clutched Works’ head in his frying pan hands with nearly enough force to crush it and thrust their mouths together.

Works assumed, for a moment, that he was being murdered. He delivered a solid punch to Jack’s chest, reset his brain when he realized he was being kissed, and dug his fingers into the soft flesh under Jack’s arm.

Jack knocked his hand away and threw an elbow across his shoulders to pin him against the wall. Works stopped fighting and tangled his hand into Jack’s dark hair, reciprocating with ferocity he neither anticipated nor fully desired to portray. This wasn’t romance and it couldn’t even be categorized as lust. The name of the game was dominance, and Works certainly gave as good as he got.

“Jack? You decent?”

Caught off-guard by EJ’s voice outside of the door, Jack’s head snapped back as Works’ fist made quick and sharp impact with the middle of his face. He pretended not to be affected by the small crack of the cartilage in his nose, holding his face with his eyes screwed shut. “...Yeah,” he grumbled.

EJ entered the shack and did a double-take at the two of them. “What the hell happened in here? You okay, Jack?”

He broke out into a grin, emphasized by the blood pouring out of his nose. He looked at Works. “Better’n ever, darlin’.”

Straightening his vest and smoothing the wrinkles made by Jack’s fists, Works nodded. “I’m going to operate as if this night never happened. EJ, good night.”

“G’night, Works...”