#BUT HEY THE RANCHERS DIDN'T EVER KILL ONE ANOTHER

[andyling]

FUCK. Whelp guys, it’s another Limited Life session so you know what that means!

Team Rancher isn’t dead, they’re just being silly

(but Jimmy is actually dead, no more silly for him)

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] // 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

summary: as tensions rise between your tribe at Black Hat and the Ottos at the ranch, you're certain the killing won't end. Of course, things start to change when the Clarks join the ranch, and one Clark in particular seems to be after the same thing as you: peace.

warning/s: mentions of discrimination, violence, death and injury.

author's note: hey all! so this was a request on here about a month ago and i've been trying very hard to get it written up, but between work and being ill lol, it's been hard. Finally though, it's here! this first chapter is a lil quick-paced to get through the scenes in the show, but it slows down after this and there’s much more alicia x you scenes too. four parts to expect, so stay tuned :)

(also peep the new layout 👀)

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

I was finishing eating lunch when my dad returned from his outing with a small party from our tribe. He didn't look hurt in any way thankfully, but when he spotted me, he dismissed those around him so he could speak to me privately.

"Hey, Y/N," he sighed, pulling me in for a side hug. "How are you?"

I returned the hug, curious to what he wanted to share. "I'm good. What happened? Did you get into another confrontation with the ranchers?"

The ranchers were those inhabiting Broke Jaw Ranch, owned by the Otto family, and whom had problems with us at Black Hat Reservation ever since they stole our land. Prior to the dead rising, my father and ancestors had been trying to win back the land the legal way, but legalities never worked in our favour. Now, no more laws meant resorting to the old fashioned method – violence. And that was exactly what the ranchers practiced, which made me fear every time my father left our home.

"We came across Troy and some others," my dad explained. Troy was one of Jeremiah Otto's sons – the other being Jake – who also headed up the ranch, and he was an absolute dickhead, but a dangerous one. "We warned them to stay away from us."

"You think they'll listen?" I asked.

He tried not to smile as he suddenly threw a bag on the ground from his back, and out tumbled several pairs of boots. Presumably Troy and his party's.

"They should get the hint," he answered. "And if not, they know the helicopter was us. They know what we're capable of."

I sighed inwardly, knowing he was referring to the helicopter our people had shot out of the sky the other night. It wasn't something I was particularly proud of, even if I wasn't directly involved, but it did serve to send a message. I understood why we did it, but sometimes I only wanted peace and not more violence.

"What is it?" he asked, sensing something was wrong.

I looked up at him, expression softening. "Can't we try to negotiate with them? I'm sure if we agreed to speak with Jake–"

"You know what this land means to our people," he said sternly. "The Ottos don't negotiate. Never have. Why would we try to meet them halfway?"

I nodded slowly, having heard this many times before. And to an extent, he was right. The ranchers and the Ottos were all the same, as experience had shown us. They didn't like us one bit, solely because we were different to them.

But if there was a chance at negotiation, Jake would be the one to go to. The most levelheaded of the Ottos, he wanted a peaceful solution, too. But my father didn't trust him, nor see it that way. And maybe I should've started to think like him, too.

"Sorry, I know you're right," I admitted. "I'm just tired of trying to survive, even now. I thought it would be over."

My dad frowned apologetically before pulling me in for a hug. "We're going to get our land back. And they aren't going to hurt us anymore. We've got the upper hand now, Y/N, you just wait."

I nodded, returning his hug, and tried to stop being so soft. His methods weren't always agreeable, but maybe they were necessary to winning this war.

"I'm gonna double check our security on the perimeter," he said once he pulled away. "Take care of yourself."

I offered him a small smile as I watched him walk away, before it faded and I felt shitty all over again. Deciding to get my mind off it, I went to the well to get some water, only for Ofelia to join my side and earn my attention.

"Hey, you look down," she noticed, glancing at me as she filled her bottle up. "What's up?"

Ofelia was one of our newest members of the Black Hat Reservation, someone my father saved from dying out in the desert. As I'd gotten to know her more and more, we became quite good friends and I was grateful to have her around, not really opening up to many people like I did her.

"Just thinking about all this stuff with the ranch," I admitted. "It's tiring is all."

"They should give back what they stole," Ofelia said with a sigh. "They can't get away with it, even now."

"I know," I agreed. "I just– sometimes I feel like the violence is a never ending cycle. They steal from us. We fight them. They fight us. We blow up their helicopter. When does it end?"

"When they surrender," Ofelia said confidently, and I envied it because why couldn't I think that way? Why did I have to be so soft?

I nodded, spacing out a little as I looked back to the well. She squeezed my shoulders slightly, comforting me.

"It won't always be like this," she promised. "We're getting close. They'll give it up eventually. And the cycle will end."

"I hope so," I muttered, before nudging her in the side. "Thanks, Ofelia."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

Barely a few days later, there was a commotion out front, and by the time I'd left the diner to see what was happening, my father was stood before Jake Otto himself and a stranger he'd brought along with him, probably another rancher. All guns were pointed their way and I grew curious to why Jake had shown up. Did he want to negotiate? Maybe there was a chance after all?

"Take them inside whilst I get cleaned up," my dad ordered, flicking his hand.

Some guards ushered Jake and the girl inside the diner as I exchanged glances with my dad, ignoring the bloody apron he wore, a consequence of him beheading a pig moments before.

"You're hearing him out?" I asked, trying to hide any hopefulness, but he knew me too well.

"Doesn't mean anything," he told me, giving me a knowing look. "But we shall hear what he has to say."

I tried to contain my curiosity and eagerness as I nodded. After waiting for him to clean himself up, we both went to the diner and took a seat at the booth opposite Jake and the mystery girl. It was quiet at first, Jake and my father eyeing each other up. Then his eyes met mine and he nodded slightly in acknowledgement, to which I returned. We'd spoken a few times on occasion, but that was in the old world.

The mystery girl beside him also looked between my father and I, though with a hardened stare as if she'd already made her mind up about us. It could have been laughable considering she didn't know us, but I was too eager to hear what their proposal was to care.

"My father will never abandon the ranch," Jake started calmly, meeting my dad's eyes. "You know that."

Without faltering, my dad answered, "Then we'll feed him to the crows like Phil McCarthy." I tried not to cringe as I recalled said rancher being left to be pecked away by crows when he trespassed on our land. "Then Russell Brown and Vernon Trimbol."

Those named were all shared founders of Broke Jaw Ranch, and the number one reason we could never have our land returned to us. My father harboured enough hatred for them for all of us, and I didn't blame him, even if he sometimes let it dictate his actions.

"Russell's dead," Jake informed us. "The adobe burned."

A little pleased, my dad said, "That karma's overdue, but welcomed."

"Vernon Trimbol's dead, too," the mystery girl spoke, eyeing my father curiously.

"I hope it was a long and... painful illness," my dad said without any remorse.

"He died with his family," the girl continued, almost challengingly. "His wife, his daughter. You killed them."

I furrowed my brows, eyes studying the brunette and her absurd accusation. But before I could even think to defend my father, he spoke calmly to Jake.

"Is this girl speaking for you?"

The girl and Jake exchanged glances before Jake ignored my father's question and instead pleaded, "We need the violence to stop."

"Soon will, Jake," my dad answered nonchalantly, before raising three fingers in the air. "Three down, one to go."

"My father never did anything to you or your people–" Jake began, but this seemed to irritate my dad.

"Tell me, junior," he interrupted, "do the lies turn your stomach? Do you taste the bile in the back of your throat?"

"State police investigated this," Jake explained, "they found no correlation between–"

"Stop–" my father banged his hand on the table with frustration, "–talking. You're boring me, like you did in court. Those days are dead."

"I thought we had an understanding, even outside of court," Jake tried again, and I could see why my father was growing more angry, despite holding it in.

"I understood," my father reminded him. "When you came here with your drunk friends, I was to serve them their food with a smile on my face. Tolerate their slurs. Clean up their vomit in the toilet, and thank them for their pocket change tips."

I swallowed hard, the memories of those days returning to mind as he mentioned them. Nobody wanted to see their family belittled, but that's exactly what we had to endure from Jake's family. The peace we wanted was looking farther and farther out of reach.

"The days of the white man's courts are over," my dad told him. "Land grabs, desecrations... over. Now you have our verdict. The first humans' verdict. You must vacate our lands."

It fell quiet as Jake stared at my father, trying to read his expression. Would he finally give in? Could this be it?

"I was hoping for a parley," Jake said instead, and I should have known it was too good to be true. "A chance to negotiate and to avoid more loss."

I glanced at my dad, seeing him stuck in thought as he digested Jake's words. But this was exactly what I was after this whole time and we couldn't just let it slip by.

"Let's do it," I spoke up for the first time, earning everyone's attention.

"Y/N–"

"No, I'm serious," I cut my dad off as he tried to make me reconsider, no doubt. "A parley is good. It's what we all need. To stop the killing. To stop the cycle."

"Exactly," the mystery girl agreed, and I glanced at her with both gratitude and curiosity.

My dad paused, studying my expression, and I communicated my hope for this all I could with just my eyes. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.

"Maybe you're right," he finally gave in, responding to Jake's offer. "If a parley can spare blood... we can talk about it. After we eat."

Just on cue, Ofelia approached our booth with a tray of freshly prepared food, setting it down before us.

After sharing an awkwardly quiet meal with Jake and his newly introduced rancher friend, Alicia, the latter excused herself to chat with Ofelia outside. I watched them leave, wondering who exactly Alicia was and how she knew Ofelia, but my attention was returned to Jake and my dad as they discussed the terms of the parley.

One of our people were to be exchanged with one of theirs as a hostage – in this case, Jake – to earn each other's trust and respect the temporary ceasefire. I was familiar with this method and even ready to offer myself up, but as soon as I brought it up to my dad once Jake left the room, I was immediately shut down.

"I'm not sending you," he said in that annoyingly calm but stern voice he pulled out on his subordinates. "I've already decided it's Ofelia."

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. "Dad, c'mon. I'm the right person for this! You know peace is all I've been preaching! I can do this, just let me! Let me be useful!"

"You are useful," he told me. "Here."

"Dad–!"

"End of discussion!" he silenced me, before closing his eyes with annoyance. "You're not going over there. Ofelia knows what she's doing. She's older."

"So, what? I'm a kid all of a sudden?" I asked rhetorically. "We both know I stopped being a kid a long time ago. Back when–"

"Don't say it," he warned me, and the hurt returned to his eyes momentarily. "Please, Y/N. Just respect my decision."

I clenched my jaw, frowning. I couldn't argue this with him, I knew it. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't hurt him, so I nodded reluctantly and left it at that.

"Good," he said with relief. "C'mon."

We joined the others outside, where Ofelia and Alicia seemed to finish up their conversation. My dad nodded to Ofelia, who approached us, seeming to know what was going to happen. After discussing the parley with her, we waited for Jake to be ready, but he seemed to be bickering quietly with Alicia on the sidelines.

"Do we have a parley or not?" my father asked impatiently, interrupting their fight.

Jake gave Alicia a disapproving stare, but nodded. "It appears we do. Alicia will be staying."

My father nodded and motioned for Jake to follow him for a moment. This was the perfect chance for me to speak to Ofelia.

"You know them?" I asked her quietly, away from prying ears.

"Only Alicia," she answered truthfully. "Remember when I told you about that family who helped me? The Clarks?" I nodded and she continued, "That's Alicia, the daughter."

I was surprised to say the least, glancing over at the brunette in question. "Small world."

"Uh-huh..."

"From what you told me about them, about her, it doesn't sound like they're like the Ottos," I said with confusion. "Why is she helping them?"

Ofelia frowned, looking down at her shoes. "We killed Travis, her family. He was in the helicopter when we shot it down."

I sighed, glancing out at the Clark girl who was standing with her arms crossed, looking like she was holding in a restrained anger. It made sense now, why she was so frustrated back there.

"It wasn't right," I said quietly, looking back to Ofelia, "but dad's stubborn. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone but the Ottos."

"Well, Alicia won't let that go," Ofelia said knowingly. "Not right now."

"But she's staying for the parley, so that's gotta be a good thing, right?" I asked somewhat hopefully.

Ofelia nodded. "She's levelheaded. Smart. She wants the same as you, Y/N. Peace. She won't wreck this, if that's what you're worried about."

I hummed in acknowledgment, studying Alicia once more, wondering if she was all of these things Ofelia was saying and more. If this was the same girl who took Ofelia and her family in when they needed help, the same girl who cared for strangers as if they were her own, then maybe all wasn't doomed.

"I have to go," Ofelia suddenly said, eyes glancing behind me at Jake and my father.

I nodded, pulling her in for a quick hug. "Be careful over there. They aren't all like your friend."

Ofelia snickered quietly. "I know." Then she met my eyes one last time, nodding in Alicia's direction. "Look out for her, yeah? She's good."

I nodded, if not for the stranger, then for Ofelia. "I promise."

Shortly after Ofelia left with Jake and a scout, I found myself washing up some dishes in the diner kitchen as usual. My dad was showing Alicia around the place, but I didn't expect him to turn up in the kitchen with her in tow, leaving her to me.

"Y/N," he called, and I shut off the tap, turning around and surprised to see to them. "Alicia is going to be sticking with you during her time here, helping around as much as she can. Is that alright?"

I raised my eyebrows slightly, glancing at the deadpan expression of the girl in question before meeting my father's eyes questioningly. Why me? There were so many other people he could have left her with. And besides, I thought he didn't trust my instincts when it came to stuff like this.

Obviously, I couldn't argue that with him in front of her, so I simply nodded.

"Sure," I said awkwardly, before meeting the green eyes already fixed on me. "You can help me finish the washing up, I guess."

"Thank you," my dad said gratefully, before leaving the two of us alone.

"Nice to meet you," I greeted her. "I'm Y/N."

"Walker's daughter, right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, before turning to face the sink as she joined my side. Swallowing uncomfortably, I felt the need to glance at her and say, "I'm sorry. About your– about Travis."

She furrowed her brows. "How do you know that? How– how can you even say that? It was your father's orders that killed him."

She wasn't shouting, but the anger in her voice was still present, only making me feel guilty because she wasn't wrong.

"Ofelia told me," I answered. "And I didn't want that to happen. I told my dad not to shoot the heli down, but his hatred for the Ottos runs deeper than anything else. Even me, sometimes."

She clenched her jaw, looking down at the sink, and I almost regretted bringing it up in the first place.

"What do you want me to do?" she changed the subject.

Knowing I couldn't do much about her dismissiveness, I nodded to the sink. "Start washing, I guess."

Between the two of us, we finished washing all the dishes and pans in no time, an uncomfortable silence filling the air, then I wiped my hands and spoke.

"I'm gonna go pick some vegetables from the field, if you wanna join."

"Do I have a choice?" she asked, neither bitter nor indifferent, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

"Look, you might not like this, but this exchange is the only way to ensure peace. If this works, maybe things can finally be okay."

She quirked a brow curiously. "And you want that?"

"What?"

"Peace?"

I looked to her with confusion. "Why wouldn't I?" She rose an eyebrow judgementally, so I asked, "Do you?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, giving nothing away. "Of course. I want to be safe. I want to keep my family safe."

"So do I," I said gently.

"Then we're in agreement," she noticed.

I sighed quietly, already leading her out the kitchen. "If only it were that easy."

She mumbled in agreement as she followed me to the vegetable patch, the both of us holding a basket to collect our pickings in. Again, it was quiet between us, something I presumed would remain considering we were still 'enemies', but it didn't last long as she spoke up.

"Will this really work?" she asked from beside me.

I paused, glancing at her as she worked. "Well, if we leave them out any longer, the sun's gonna fry them and then they won't be very edible any–"

"Not this," she stopped me, giving me a disapproving look. "The parley."

"Oh." I cleared my throat, continuing to pick the chillies from the plant. "Hopefully, yeah. If your people treat Ofelia with respect–"

"They aren't my people," she interrupted firmly.

As if she wasn't a mystery already.

"Okay...," I said slowly. "Well, if the ranchers treat Ofelia with respect, a relationship of sorts can form between us and them, opening everything up to negotiation."

"And if they don't?" Alicia asked.

I gave her a questioning look. "Won't they?" When she didn't answer, I grew worried. "Alicia, is Ofelia in danger there?"

"No, no she's not," she assured me when she saw my expression. "Not with Jake. He'll keep her safe."

Feeling warm under the sun, I used my sleeve to wipe at my face and sighed. "Jake is patient, much easier to talk to than his family, but it's not enough."

"Your father isn't very patient," Alicia commented.

I smiled dryly. "My people have been patient for centuries. More than you could know, Alicia."

"I'm not going to pretend to understand what the history of the ranch means to you and your people," she said earnestly, "but I'm hoping we can find a peaceful resolution. That's why I'm here, Y/N."

I nodded, meeting her gaze. For some stupid reason, I wanted to believe her. I think I might have. She seemed different to the others, maybe because of everything Ofelia had told me of her. I wasn't sure, but I truly hoped she wouldn't disappoint.

Unfortunately for everyone, the parley didn't last long and I still wasn't sure if it was slightly my fault. Maybe if I'd kept a closer eye on Alicia, they wouldn't have smuggled her out of there? Or maybe it was inevitable.

I wasn't sure. All I knew was one second I was telling her to get some water from the well and the next there was the sound of shooting coming from outside, along with a mini ambush of ranchers. By the time I'd grabbed a gun and made it outside, they were already driving away, a glimpse of Alicia in the backseat of their truck. And to make things worse, a few of our people were either injured or shot dead.

It angered me, but mostly I felt disappointment at the fact that we'd come full circle yet again. Alicia had seemed different earlier today, like she actually wanted this to work. So, why had she broken out of here, hurting my people in the process?

My fault for believing her, I suppose.

Of course, this didn't bode well with my dad, and understandably so. However, I certainly didn't expect him to send Ofelia undercover there, under the guise that she'd been thrown out, when in fact she was there solely to poison their militia with anthrax. As soon as she returned, that was when I found out. I worried about what was going on with her, since I didn't even know she'd left, but she was distracted.

"Ofelia, what the hell happened?" I asked worriedly, upon seeing her battered and bruised face. "Where have you been?!"

"The ranch," she answered angrily, though it wasn't directed at me. "I was supposed to make them sick. But he didn't tell me– it was fucking anthrax!"

"What are you talking about?" I said with confusion, trying to meet her flickering gaze. "Why were you at the ranch? What anthrax?"

And that's when she explained the plan, conducted by none other than my father. Except the catch was that it wasn't a little something to just weaken their militia, it was anthrax poisoning to kill as many of them as possible, and Ofelia didn't know until it was too late.

"Alicia didn't want to mess up this parley," she continued to explain. "Her mother used Troy to get her back because she was scared for her. It wasn't her fault. She still wants peace."

At this newfound information, I was surprised and also a little relieved because, stupidly enough, I still believed there was hope.

"And now her brother, Nick, is sick because of the anthrax," Ofelia finished guiltily. "And it's my fault."

I frowned, shaking my head. "It's not. You didn't know. He should've told you."

Not in the mood for my sympathy, Ofelia shrugged me off and walked away to be alone. And I only grew more frustrated at my father, ashamed at his manipulating tactics amongst his own people, all because of a vendetta.

Storming over to him in the greenhouse, I tried to keep myself calm, but it only irked me more when he tried to pretend everything was okay.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

Squeezing my fists together, I stared at him with disbelief. "Seriously? Am I okay?!"

Confused, he blinked. "Is that a no?"

"You lied to Ofelia about the anthrax!"

He sighed, like this was all a mild inconvenience. "I didn't want to. But it needed to be done. Someone had to weaken their militia."

"You don't get it, do you?" I asked with a glare. "This will never end. They killed our people. You poisoned theirs. They'll just keep coming back. It's a never ending cycle!"

"And I'll keep it going if it means getting justice for our people!" he finally snapped. "If it means protecting our home, taking back our land, then yes, I will keep going!"

I unclenched my jaw, exhausted already. "Wow. I hate to say it, dad, but maybe this just isn't worth it anymore. Maybe the ranch isn't worth it."

He frowned with frustration, about to retaliate and berate me no doubt, but our argument was conveniently interrupted by the sound of shouting in the distance. The two of us ran out to see what the commotion was, only to see some of our tipis on fire, along with ranchers driving around and shooting around.

"Defence, now!" my father ordered, and I immediately ran to grab the nearest gun before taking cover.

It wouldn't have made a difference though, as soon enough, a pickup truck belonging to the ranchers began to drive away with our reliquary in tow, one that contained many of our ancestor's belongings in one place. The only rancher who knew of its existence was Alicia, considering my father had shown it to her when she was here. Which only meant one thing.

She'd told them to steal it.

As predicted, this war was a constant back and forth and my dad was only seeking revenge, as usual. Once the ranchers had stolen our reliquary, they used it to try and negotiate peace with my father. But he was so angry that he declined and threatened them, giving them until nightfall to vacate the ranch. Instead, Alicia's mother, Madison Clark, did one even better. She offered us up Jeremiah Otto's head.

And that was how we negotiated a peace deal, where we could finally move back onto our own land, though sharing it with the ranchers.

It wasn't ideal, but if it meant no more bloodshed, and also no more Jeremiah, then my father was more than happy to accept. So, a handful of us began moving in.

Most of the ranchers seemed to accept it, but I couldn't personally be sure. I tried not to focus on that though, nor the clear divide between our people. Instead, I did what I did best. Gardening.

I was taking stock in the vegetable patches to see what was growing and what else could be planted when I heard someone approaching behind me. To my surprise, it was Alicia.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

I nodded awkwardly before returning my attention to the clipboard in hand. We hadn't properly spoken since the parley was broken, so I wasn't so sure where we stood with one another.

"So, it worked," she tried to make conversation, referring to the peace deal.

"Barely," I mumbled.

It went quiet, and if it weren't for the fact that her footsteps weren't heard, I could have believed she'd left.

"I didn't know they were going to come for me," she suddenly said, a hint of guilt in her voice. "My mother was worried."

I shrugged halfheartedly, but she felt the need to justify it, as if she cared what I thought.

"I didn't want more people to die."

Finally, I lifted my eyes to meet hers. "Nobody ever does. But when it's my people, it's just collateral, right?"

Her lips curved into a slight frown as she shook her head, and I really wanted to believe her. Desperately. Because she seemed genuine, and if she was, then this wouldn't be for nothing.

"Jeremiah is gone now," she reminded me. "This can be a fresh start."

I pressed my lips together, lowering my clipboard. "I know that. You know that. But what about the ranchers? His followers?"

"Most of them only want peace," she tried to reassure me. "They'll follow anyone who gives them a sense of safety."

I suppressed the urge to scoff. "I hope so."

"The only way to show them that is to be unified," she added.

I quirked a brow. "And how do you suppose we do that?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Work with me, not against me. Side by side. If our people see us working together, maybe they'll realise it's not a bad thing."

I exhaled quietly, impressed at her thinking. "That's a good idea." She nodded gratefully, and I continued, "But why? Why would you care? And why us?"

She ran a hand through her hair as she explained patiently, "I've already told you that I only want to keep my family safe, same as you. So, why not work together in that? You're the daughter of the leader of those the ranchers are learning to trust. They see you working with us, they'll ease up. I just know it."

It made sense what she was saying, and she'd never done anything to give me reason to distrust her. Best case scenario, we could truly establish peace. Worst case scenario, we didn't become friends. I couldn't see much to lose, so I gave in with a nod.

"Okay. I guess you're right, Alicia."

She began to smile, both hopeful and relieved. "Great. Maybe we can start with me giving you a rundown on what we're growing?"

I sighed, returning her smile, and it felt good to have a reason to smile again. "I– yeah. That would be super helpful actually."

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterSeven

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

AO3> Land of Thieves 

Warnings:  18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood.

tags: @mionemymind

It doesn't take long before you reach the town, trotting lightly on the road while keeping your hat concealing your face. You have been to Rhodes a few times before, mostly to play Black Jack at the hotel in town. 

You know it's not the best place to find money-making opportunities, but you lead your horse toward the hotel, where the only decent bar in town is located, to try to find something. Saloons and hotels are always good places where you can hear about business opportunities.

You are relatively surprised to find Carol's sorrel, tied up in the driveway with other horses. You smile, and pet the animal as you dismount from your own horse. And then you walk toward the entrance, ignoring the curious glances that the civilians cast at you, most of them curious to see an outsider woman wearing pants.

Not finding Carol on the fist floor, you immediately assume that she is playing on the second floor, and go up the stairs. You wave your hat at two ladies who look at you in surprise as you reach the second floor.

Looking around as you walk towards the card table, you smile as you notice Carol letting out a laugh as she wins a round. You cross your arms and stop behind the table, watching the game.

- I was told that you were looking for a job in Rhodes. - You mock loudly, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Seeing that Carol is quick to let out an exclamation sound, suggesting that she knows you, the other players just turn their attention back to the game. 

- Why don't you play with us for a while? - She suggests as the dealer begins to deal the cards again.

- I have work to do. - You say and Carol smiles wryly.

- We always have work to do. - She replies, and you laugh lightly. You watch her win another round, and then she signals that she is done playing. The table lets out an exclamation of disappointment, but Carol just shrugs her shoulders, walking toward you.

- Your friends are upset. - You sneer as she catches up with you and you walk toward the stairs.

- They will survive. - She replies with amusement. You reach the lower level, and walk to the bar. Carol buys herself a drink while you lean on the counter.

- Have you found anything interesting here? - you ask.

- That depends. - She speaks with amusement, and takes a sip of her beer before continuing. - I've encountered rednecks and ranchers with their boots buried in shit who think they are living in the best place in the country. - She sneers, and you laugh lightly. - But I also met the sheriff. They have some kind of feud between two families in this place.

- Really? - You ask and Carol nods.

- They look like those families from that story you liked as a child. - She says, gesturing as if she is trying to remember. - The one with the couple that dies.

- Romeo and Juliet. - You reply in an amused tone, finding the book's description funny.

- Yes, yes, that cheesy thing. - She says. - All I know is that they are filthy rich and they are trying to kill each other.

- Wow, that sounds promising. - You say as you think of the opportunities that might arise with these families of yours.

- I'll check out the families' properties later. - Carol says - I'll ask if they need more guards, or drivers. You know how rich people love to have several employees.

You laugh, agreeing. You are thoughtful for a moment, and Carol frowns.

- What is it with you anyway? - she asks and you shrug.

- I don't know, I'm a bit upset. - You say, turning to lean completely on the counter. - Potts just told me about Knight.

Carol put her hand on your shoulder, as she put the beer on the counter. 

- You know, you could use a drink. - She said as she asked the bartender to pour you both a whiskey. With the drinks in front of her, she raised her glass to make a toast. - To Knight.

You both turned the glass over afterwards, the drink burning in your throat. Carol shook her head and laughed lightly at the strong taste, and you laughed at her frown. 

- Keep it coming, honey. - She told the barman, who served you again. - I remember when I lost my first horse. - she said thoughtfully, before flipping another glass of whiskey. - Talos, he was the fastest Appaloosa I ever rode. Strong and stubborn. Wouldn't let anyone ride him but me, and then he was shot during a robbery.

- That's too bad. - You comment, drinking again. 

- Don't worry, kid. We'll find you another horse. - Carol says, and she gets annoyed at the bartender's delay in serving her and asks him to leave the bottle. After that, your glasses no longer remain empty.

It doesn't take long for the ground at your feet to start spinning along with your head. You are laughing at something, but not sure what. The musician in the bar is playing something very lively on the piano, and you join the people dancing, with Carol leaning an arm on your shoulders. You dance and dance until you stumble out of the bar, looking for a place to relieve yourself.

You stumble between giggles around the outside of the hotel, and Carol leans on you to avoid falling to the ground. You realize that it is already night, and tell the blonde next to you this in a false tone of fear.

- Our wives are going to be so angry. - She comments in a whisper, before laughing again. You follow her.

- Hold on. - You say, as you try to balance yourself. - I think we came from that side.

Carol nods, escorting you back to the hotel. 

You laugh all the way down the hall, and then you feel someone caress your face and your waist making you look up.

A harlot smiles at you, looking at you maliciously. You are too drunk to process exactly what is going on, but you let out a disgruntled grumble.

- Hey sweetie, do you want to come up to my room? - She asks as she presses your bodies together.

- No. - You say, feeling your head spinning. The other woman's perfume was confusing you. You're trying to remember exactly why you weren't enjoying being touched like that, but the alcohol wouldn't let you think straight. You thought it had to do with a redheaded woman. The harlot giggled, realizing your state. You tried to look for Carol, but you didn't see her anywhere.

- Come on, sweetheart. Let's have some fun. - The woman spoke again. You tried to lift her arms off her shoulders, but your muscles didn't seem to respond.

- Sorry, ma'am. - You say half breathlessly. - I think I'm married. - You almost beg, remembering Carol's line. - She'll be angry.

The woman laughs lightly.

- I don't see a ring. - She says holding up your hand. You blink, feeling your eyes tear up.

- Oh my god, have I lost my ring? - You whimper, your stomach starts to turn. 

- Come, I'll make you feel better. - She says, pulling you by the hand. You nod without really understanding what she is saying. She drags you around the room, and you finally see Carol, passed out on the drink counter. You call out to her, but your voice fails you.

And then you are no longer being pulled, and you look forward to see a woman you don't recognize, looking at you with a mixture of anger and concern. She pushes the harlot away, saying words that your drunken brain doesn't understand. And then she turns to you, her lips moving as she places her hands on your cheek, and the warm touch makes your body throb. You think someone is calling you, and you blink in confusion, trying to clear your thoughts. 

- Are you even listening to me? - says the woman, and lets out a grumble. - God, you're completely drunk. - She looks over the back of your shoulder, and you let your eyes wander to her neck, it looks so attractive. You blink in confusion as you are pulled around the hotel, your feet dragging.

- No, ma'am. I'm married, my wife will be upset. - You grumble, feeling your head spinning. 

The woman laughs.

- Oh yes, and who are you married to? - she asks jokingly. Before you know it, you've reached one of the bedrooms.

- I don't remember. - You whine. - My friend told me that my wife would be angry.

The woman doesn't answer, mumbling in response. She sits you down on the bed in the bedroom, taking off your boots. You start humming a song that you think you like.

- Getting wasted in an unknown city, you are so irresponsible. - You listen to the woman grumble, you don't understand why she sounds angry, but you hope she won't be angry with you too.

- Madam, I think I lost my ring. - You mumble, looking down at your hands. The woman helps you onto the bed, and you feel the soft pillows against your head. - Will you help me look for it?

- Yes. Get some sleep and I'll help you when you wake up. - she whispered tenderly. You smile, staring at the green orbs staring back at you with a slight frown.

- I wish you were my wife. - You murmur with a smile before closing your eyes. 

Your head hurts. A lot. You realize it as soon as you try to open your eyes. You grunt in pain, trying to get out of bed. You don't even remember how you got into a bed. And then you look around, realizing that it is a hotel room. Sitting up straight in bed, you run your hand over your face, trying to wake yourself up. 

You are very thirsty and you frown to find a glass of water already waiting for you at the head of the bed. Without thinking much about it, you grab the object and quickly pour the liquid down your throat.

The door opens next, and you let out a surprised exclamation when you see Wanda entering the room.

- Good, you're awake. - She says, but she seems annoyed. And then she lays a set of clothes on the bed. - Put these on.

And then you realize that you're only wearing a nightgown. You frown in confusion, trying to remember anything about last night.

- What happened? - Your voice comes out a little hoarse and you leave the now empty glass on the table. Wanda closes the door and crosses her arms, leaning against the wall.

- You and Carol got completely blasted last night. - She says, a serious expression on her face.

- Where is Carol?

- With Maria, in the next room. - She replies. You nod, stretching your body.

- How did you find me? - you ask, ignoring the latent headache.

- Well, Potts told me you had work to do. And Carol hadn't come back yet, so Maria came to look for her. We found Carol passed out drunk on the bar counter, and you were being dragged by a whore into one of the rooms.

- Oh, God. - You mumbled in shame, covering your face with your hands. 

- No, it's okay. - Wanda retorted, her voice slightly high-pitched with anger. - The woman was clearly trying to take advantage of you, and I told her to go fuck herself. Then she left you alone.

You let out a short laugh, finding Wanda's aggressiveness amusing. But the redhead looked angry, you frowned as you stood up, looking at the clothes she brought you.

- Why are you angry? - you asked, unfolding the shirt. Wanda snorted incredulously.

- You are supposed to be working and I find you completely drunk, almost having sex with a stranger! - Wanda exclaims angrily. You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- What is it now, Wanda? It's not like I never drink. - You grumble, loosening the threads of your sweater. You pull it off over your head, leaving only your underwear on to put on the clean garments Wanda brought you. Since you are both pissed off now, neither of you really registers this. - Besides, I was upset. With Knight's death and all. Carol just wanted to cheer me up a bit.

- Oh, of course. - Wanda said with a tone of debauchery as you put on your blouse. - You clearly tried to cheer yourself up in the first bed that came along!

You laughed wryly. Where were those accusations coming from, anyway? You didn't even remember anything.

- You just said nothing happened. 

- Because I came on time! - Wanda countered. - If I had stayed at the camp, you would be waking up in her bed right now!

- This is ridiculous. - You grumble, sitting up in bed to put on your boots after your pants. 

- But you know what, I don't even know why I'm saying this to you! - She exclaims flatly, and you don't look at her, just wishing this stupid fight would be over with. - You don't owe me any explanations about who you' re going to bed with.

- What?" - you murmur, but then Wanda comes out of the room, slamming the door. You sit there for a good few minutes, trying to understand exactly what has happened.

You hear a knock on the door, and then Maria pokes her head into the room, smiling at you.

- Hi Maria. - You greet her, getting up.

- Hi Y/N. We're going back to the camp, are you coming? - She asks, and you just nod, a sad smile on your lips.

- I still have work to do, and I don't think Wanda wants to talk to me right now.

Maria waves sadly to you, and leaves the room, closing the door. You let out an annoyed sigh, grabbing your hat from the headboard before leaving the room.

Carol waits for you at the bar, and she is drinking water. She doesn't seem upset.

- Hey, good morning. - She says hello and you accept when she pours you some water.

- Not so good. - You mutter as you sit down. Carol giggles.

- I'm sorry about your fight. - She says, and you frown with confusion. She shrugs. - You both talk loud.

You nod in agreement, leaning your face against your hands. 

- Is everything okay with Maria? - you ask, and Carol nods.

- She was worried, but not really angry. - She says, and grabs her own hat, which she had left resting on the counter, and puts it on her head. - Let's focus on work for a few hours, shall we?

- Okay. - You murmur, getting up to follow Carol out of the hotel.

Carol rides beside you as far as the city limits, humming softly. You are lost in your own thoughts, reviewing the argument with Wanda, when you hear her calling you.

- You need money, right? - she asks.

- Yes. - You simply reply.

- I have a hint. - She says. - I helped a fellow at the station. He told me about a carriage. 

You laugh.

- What fella, Danvers? - You ask, and Carol rolls her eyes, laughing lightly.

- It doesn't matter. - she says humorously. You continue riding in silence for a few minutes, then Carol checks her watch. - Well, tell me if you are going to participate or not. I have to be at the meeting point.

Blinking in surprise, you straighten your posture.

- Damn, I didn't know it was this time already. - You comment. - I'm in, of course.

Carol smiles, and leads the way. You slightly speed up the gallop of the horses.

- This is it. - Carol says when you stop in a rather isolated area of the countryside. You thought you were near Saint Denis. - They will come from that direction. Let's wait behind those trees.

Stealing carriages was not a difficult job in general. One just had to be careful that things didn't get out of hand. Fortunately, Carol's contact was precise enough with the number of guards. You fired quickly, giving them no chance to react. And then you noticed the army crest on the carriage and frowned.

- Damn, they were feds? - You exclaimed as you dismounted from your horse, Carol looked as surprised as you were.

- Shit, Alden. - she grumbled. You figured Alden was the name of her contact. - Let's just steal the locker soon, and get out of here.

You nodded, crouching down to feel the carriage vault at the bottom. It didn't take long to find it, and you pulled it to the floor. Using your revolver to break the handle, you let out a hiss as you saw the amount of bills.

- Good job, Miss Danvers. - You joked, counting the money. You divided it into three parts: yours, Carol's, and the Camp's. 

Carol smiled and thanked you, but she continued with that worried look on her face as you mounted again, and rode away.

You were silent for another moment, Carol was strangely thoughtful, so you decided to ask.

- I'm trying to find out if Alden would set me up. - she said, without taking her eyes off the road. - He's not exactly someone who makes enemies. He gives tips for carriage robberies in exchange for a share of the profit.

- Maybe he didn't know. - You comment.

- Yes, I don't think he knew. - She says. - But this is still suspicious. The information he had was that a landowner's carriage was going to pass by. Easy money, few guards. 

- So someone lied about the registration of the trip. - You say, without really caring about it. - Rich people lie all the time. Maybe it is an illegal service. 

- I hope so, kid. - Carol says. - I wouldn't want it to bring trouble.

You nod, and you ride off again in silence. 

It took a while for you to get all the items on Potts' list, but when you finally finished, you stowed the items in the load on your horse, and rode back to camp. Carol was no longer with you, she said she needed to investigate the two families in town, and you waved goodbye.

The camp was quiet, most members were going about their daily chores. You watched Thor demonstrate to Monica how to skin properly, as you passed the hunting wagon, carrying the wrapped items that Potts asked you to buy.

You smiled at Pepper as you handed her the items, and she thanked you by ruffling your hair lightly. 

Looking around the camp, you let out a low grumble, remembering that you had to talk to Wanda. You decided to take a shower first, because even in clean clothes, you still smelled like booze.

- Trouble in paradise? - You tripped in shock while bathing, suddenly hearing a male voice. It was Pietro, who sat on the edge of the lake where you were standing. You had chosen a far corner of the camp to bathe in.

- Hi, Pietro. - You greeted, lathering your own hair again.

- Wanda is pissed off. What happened? - he asks after a moment. You feel your body tense at the mention, but do your best to cover it up.

- We had a disagreement. - You tell. - Actually, I don't really understand what happened.

- Tell me what happened so I know what to say. - He asks with slight amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes.

- Carol and I have had a few more whiskeys than we should have. - You start, and Pietro raises his eyebrows in irony, but you just ignore him. - And then Wanda and Maria came to pick us up in Rhodes.

- Okay, this doesn't seem like a big deal. We already drank more than we should together several times and it never bothered Wanda.  - he comments. And he assumes a thoughtful expression for a moment. - Nothing else has happened?

- I am not sure. She told me that Carol was passed out when they arrived, and that I was being dragged away by a harlot. - You say.

- Sorry, repeat that last part for me, please. - He asked with a mixture of seriousness and humor in his voice.

You frowned, as you repeated the words. It took a minute, and Pietro burst out laughing. You splashed water on him, and he stood up quickly, stepping away.

- She almost punched me when I asked her to switch our chores. - Pietro began, still laughing. - All this because she is jealous.

- What? - You asked in surprise, feeling your heart racing.

- You two are a disaster, I swear. - He commented, as he turned and walked back to the camp.

You spent several minutes trying to understand what happened at the hotel, replaying the interaction you had with Wanda. And then you let out a laugh, feeling your cheeks flush a little. It was funny to think that Wanda was jealous of you, if only she knew how completely in love you were with her, and no one would ever take her place.

Finishing your shower, you put on your clothes and walked towards the campsite, hoping that your girlfriend would be willing to talk to you about it.

Your eyes search for Wanda the very second you enter the tented camp area. You find her at the edge of the lake, away from the rest of the camp, and standing in front of one of the long trees, fishing. You bite your lip to keep from smiling, thinking that she looks absolutely adorable.

You walk beside her, making a noise with your feet so as not to scare her. Wanda turns her head to look at you for a moment, but doesn't smile, turning her attention back to the water.

- Can we talk? - you ask as you stop beside her.

- We are talking. - She replies, still not looking at you. You smile, turning your head to face the water.

- Your brother has an interesting theory. - You begin. - He believes that you are jealous.

Wanda lets out an incredulous laugh, looking at you with irritation. You think she looks pretty.

- Are you trying to irritate me even more? - Wanda says, and you turn to her. 

- Let me show you something. - You ask, offering your hand to Wanda. She rolls her eyes impatiently, throws the fishing rod on the ground, and takes your hand. You smile, but don't take her very far. You pull her gently behind the tree, hiding you from the rest of the camp. You lean your back against the wood as you pull Wanda by the hand to yourself. 

Wanda holds her breath at the proximity, and you smile as you stare at her lips.

- You know, Wanda, you don't have to be jealous. - You whisper, and she blinks in confusion and irritation.

- I’m n...

- Let me finish. - You interrupt with amusement. Wanda shifts her weight from her feet and rolls her eyes, but she doesn't refuse when you place one of her hands on your waist.

- I wanted to show you... - You begin, and use your hands together to guide Wanda's hand down to the level of the buttons on your pants. You feel your heart race, but guide her hand down to your belly, slowly making its way through the fabric of your pants along with the cotton of your panties, until it superficially touches your wet pussy. You both gasp at the contact. - How much I want you. - You close your eyes, bringing your foreheads together. - Nobody makes me feel this way, Wands.

Wanda says nothing for a moment, you feel the tightness in your waist increase. You try not to shiver against her fingers, biting your lips to keep from moaning at feeling her so deeply.

- You'd better not forget that. - Wanda whispers with a mixture of aggressiveness and teasing that makes the spot below your stomach clench. She removes her hand from your pants, and gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking away, leaving you alone, hot and horny against the tree.