#it about pen sensing his colin's gaze and looking up to find it

[ohtendril]

2.07 - 3.08

[myfanfictionjournal]

Soul Gazing with Mister Bridgerton

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x OFC Amanda Jennings/Reader

Summery: Your two dearest friends Pen and El have as usual asked you to join them in the Bridgerton home when the youngest of the three eldest Bridgerton men; Colin returns from his Grecian adventures. It seems as though his return has brought about a new buzz about the home that everyone can blatantly see.

Song: Fix You Coldplay cover by Low Strung

Memo: So it’s weird how I’ve written this story, but the concept is giving you the reader the opportunity to create yourself as Amanda Jennings. It wasn’t sitting right with me to have to not give my main protagonist a name given the universe I’ve decided to experiment with. I don’t know how well this will read for everyone. I couldn’t exactly find a happy stopping point; therefore if there is enough interest. I’ll look into writing another. Either outcome; I’m just glad I gave myself the opportunity to take on a different genre of writing as a whole. I’m proud of what I have here and do hope you enjoy it as well.

Meeting his gaze. This gaze. Much like he so clearly was; you too wore an expression of awe at his presence. It been so long since he took leave for his travels and despite the passage of time; his gaze reminded you of that first night you met. His eyes captured your soul right then and there. Just as he has done in this moment.

His mother; Lady Bridgerton couldn’t help but smile with a delighted giggle as she moved to embrace her child. Your smile seemed to have brought him back to his senses despite having just given his mother a hug.

“Miss. Jennings. I was unaware you’d be joining my family so early. It is a refreshing delight to have seen you the same hour I returned. Please excuse my lack of gentlemanly gestures; for I have much to unpack as well as many stories to share with my siblings.” You were taken back by his polite request and completely delighted at his remark of seeing your presence as something to be desired to an extent.

Lady Bridgerton beamed from the corner of your eye as she sound comfort in one of the chairs and giving her son a curious look. One that was none other than that of great pride and joy for his return. You couldn’t allow your smile to fade nor did the way your heart wish it as Colin Bridgerton returned your smile. His eyes sparkling with a happiness you rarely saw in another man’s eyes. It is an expression he naturally exudes. Colin bowed his head in respects before flashing you a dazzling smile that even took his sister and Penelope Featherington by surprise.

As you wiped your neck around to see their giddy chatter suddenly hault and become fits of giggles.

“Whatever is so amusing girls?” The Lady of the house asked with curious giggles of her own.

“Oh! Nothing mama!” Eloise insisted as she came to your side and Penelope on your left.

“We wish to take a stroll. Would that be alright with you brother?” El asked her eldest brother in a mocking tone.

“Oh course it is. We will end up at the modiste if anywhere in particular.” Before you had any say in the matter Pen and El took each elbow and started towards the door.

Or rather straight for Colin who stepped aside with chuckles until his gaze fell upon your own once again. This gaze. Once more leaves you feeling suspended in air as if holding you up and keeping you above the cliff side; is him.

“I will see you again soon Miss Jennings!” Colin called out as he leaned out of the doorway after the three of you lady’s.

As you tried to turn and look back Penelope’s eyes met your longing gaze first. To which she beamed then let out a hearty laugh that Eloise joined in. You looked to her in disbelief then at the lady on you right and stopped walking. The two stumbled a moment as the lost grip of your arms.

“What ever are we doing?! Is there not a Ball we have to prepare for? At the Danbury home nonetheless! Do you two not wish to make good impressions this season?!” You stood your group as you longed for genuine answers in their eyes.

Empty expressions looking back at you that clearly have not a single aligned interest. You looked down then craned your head over your shoulder wishing so desperately for the Lord Bridgerton to be standing there. Staring back at you so openly and honestly. You took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh as you composed yourself.

“I know it not to be something you wish to possibly think of. Or possibly imagine as tolerable. However. I for one. I do wish to marry. I wish for a husband and a marriage. Children. Yes. I want the responsibility of running a household, give visible value to the name I will be married into. For those things I love. I might be like you two with open hearts and intellectual conversation. But give me one reason. Why we can’t at least indulge while the season is at its peak!?” The lady’s looked to one another then their feet as they could not seem to find the words at your outburst.

An outburst that was bound to happen, the unexpected news of an eligible Bridgerton back home, the Sharma’s and their affairs from the scandals under the Featherington roof that does not seem to bother your beloved friend.

“I am sorry for my outburst, but…Eloise.” You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide your desire for Colin and so you moved in close and took Eliose’s hands as you stared deep into her eyes to hopefully reach her soul as you chose your next few words carefully; “I am a woman ready to marry. If despite my lack of social effort…I have found a man I am in raptures about. One whom sees me. The way we all wish to be seen by man. I know what I see in his eyes and my own. So I implore you to hear me pronounce to you in my full confidence that…after tonight while my happiness flourishes. I do hope you’ll see it for that. The blossoming of something beautiful bound to happen.” As you spoke Penelope held her chest in awe of your declaration.

“Amanda…that was so beautiful.” She giggled and as you looked to her; she was looking to the floor as if to be avoiding someone else’s eyes.

You looked back to Eloise worried she would be angry. That being the last thing you want; however; she was giving you a devil may care kind of grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone speak so highly of their devotion to their future family. Miss Jennings.” Colin’s voice felt like a warm breeze after a summer rain from behind you.

Eloise dropped your hands as she looked away as if she hadn’t heard her brother.

“Pen and I are going out. We will see you at the ball tonight Amanda.” She smiled and her eyes held that promise as bright as the smile she flashed before dashing off.

You giggled as Penelope gave you a cheeky grin then followed after her best friend. You took a deep breathe before turning to face Colin. As you did you were able to take in his full appearance. The japes his brothers made on behalf of his facial hair was but a fleeting thought and yet you wanted to laugh at how cruel they were. The joy unable to stay inside as you giggle as you both take a moment to take in each other’s presence. Alone.

“I…I do hope we can promenade tomorrow morning after we share a dance tonight.” The way he stumbled to ask for your company was the first blow of many that sent you into a state of wanting that; until now you’d never truthfully desired until this moment.

“Miss. Jennings. I know that my leaving was abrupt and sudden, leaving many with the notion that I was just a child wanting to escape my realities, I however. Want to assure you that I’ve come home a changed man. I seek a wife and many, many children in my future. And please forgive me again. For it is impolite of me to share such feelings unprovoked.”

“Unprovoked? You seemed to have heard of my expectations for my future and now you want to apologize not only for being charming, but dare I say. . .” You found yourself avoiding his eyes as you spoke.

Knowing full well that this was completely inappropriate and yet as you laid eyes on one another; there it was again. That feeling of complete comfort and trust that these words were meant for you and you alone. It was his eyes. The way he was looking at you. All you could see was a future with children and dogs running about. Just as you blinked Colin took a step closer and softly grasped the back of your wrist.

“I shall take this hand and escort you onto the dance floor. First and last tonight. Might I be given that privilege. I wish to. . .” Once more someone at a lose for words.

You felt the tension building. The kind you willed yourself to not think about, but could feel in your joints. It was the way his hand tenderly caressed your own at this point, his thumb ever so softly sweeping across the top of your hand. You gave him a smile and despite how wrong it felt. There were urges. Begging and pleading in your mind of how this could be the best and worst thing to happen to you.

“I see. You’re at a lose for words. That is alright. A look. That is the only answer I desire. For I have done all but appreciate all that is laid out before me. As we all do as we learn to who we become. I for one; Lady Jennings, want nothing more than to be a worthy husband to a wife who will no doubt be the absolute greatest thing to me. So. All I need before I depart...” He spoke with an intense sincerity as he continued to stroke your hand.

He squeezed his fingers around your wrist and released in a quick action as your eyes darted from the floor to his sapphire eyes; “is a look.” He said as plainly as one could.

Your nerves ache and mind became fuzzy as looking into his eyes once more gave you no other place to land. They were so clear, curious, joyful, knowledgeable, and there in the center you inhaled a shaky breath that he mimicked to further give attention to the blatantly obvious.

“Lady Jennings! Mama told me you’d be here! COLIN?!” Her Grace the Dutchess Hastings had come up the stairs with much enthusiasm for both the people she had encountered.

She dashed forward and halted at the sight of your hand so tenderly being caressed by her brother whom did not drop your hand but brought it to his lips and placed a kiss to your knuckles.

As you glanced to address the Dutchess; Colin brought your hand up into the air. His gaze never leaving you as he pressed the flesh of his lips to your knuckles. Soft, full, and that gaze never breaking. His gaze that begged you to seek what he sees.

Daphne stood with pursed lips and blushing cheeks. Her hands folded neatly behind her as she witnessed the gentle gesture of her brother. A smile on her face as Colin brought your hand back down and released it. You beamed and couldn’t suppress your giggles. Colin followed with chuckles that lead to Daphne joining in to which Colin shuddered in shock at the sound of his eldest sister.

“Sister!” He beamed in her direction as he bowed then proceeded to walk up and engulf her in a tight embrace.

She laughed in delight at his genuine happiness to see her and as they pulled away he cleared his throat. The three of you stood there in a growing awkward silence; despite how pleasant it was. It was indeed awkward.

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: Presumed Character Death, Violence Descriptions (In This Chapter) Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton,  Pretty Much Everyone (at points) Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

It was a simple affair that lacked the formality and solemnity that such a wedding might have had should it have been performed back home in London. Country weddings, especially elopements weren’t exactly known for their stark adherence to the religious doctrines.  The fact of the matter was that the men who performed such rites were hardly true clergy.

Penelope could hardly believe that this had become her life and that she was indeed marrying Colin. After everything they’d been through,  he had deemed her worthy to be his bride and the sentiment wasn’t lost on her.  She couldn’t but look back seeking the safety and approval of Anthony and Benedict as she uttered her vows though.

Hearing Colin say the words and knowing that he meant them had been everything that she’d ever wanted before he’d gone missing and when he’d come back she’d been so caught up that she’d failed to really take notice of the fact she wasn’t quite the same infatuated girl she’d been before. She had changed as a person.  She could hardly ignore the loudness of her thoughts against the quiet of his words and her own.

She certainly didn’t intend to regret this though, even if the whole thing felt a bit like an out of body experience.  She wasn’t unhappy but she had imagined that she would feel more joy flittering through her veins, excitement at spending the rest of her life with the man she’d deemed as her soul mate.  She felt something deep inside that she couldn’t quite explain though and she wasn’t quite willing to investigate.

To be perfectly honest she was terrified of what she might find if she did explore it.  She loved Colin. She always had.  God knew that she always would but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she hadn’t made the right choice. Maybe they should have taken it slower, maybe they both needed more time to grow before they had their happy ever after if it was meant for them.  It didn’t make sense to her when it felt so right though. She’d been so sure moment ago.

The smile she’d plastered on her face through the aftermath of the ceremony felt like a cover for the sheer and utter panic she was trying to keep down.   There was something she felt deep down inside that she couldn’t quite explain, some feeling like something had to go wrong. She’d felt like that most of her life whenever something was going right. It didn’t normally take hold of her quite so strongly. She could feel it wrapping around her life a vice.

They were all to walk together to the local inn to eat and celebrate the occasion.  Her arm was held steadfast by Colin and she was trying desperately not to have him catch on to the fact she was a bit shaky.

“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” Colin finally told her after a moment. His eyes gazed over her appraisingly from the side, his grip on her all the tighter.  His normal smile was still there, never ceasing but there was concern etched in the depths of his eyes.

“I was just thinking,” Penelope told him though she didn’t choose to expand upon it.  She nodded sympathetically, patting a hand on his arm to provide some sort of reassurance that she was okay but she wasn’t sure if it was believable or not.  “Perhaps, I’m just a bit hungry.”

“Well… we’re going to fix that,”  he insisted.  Whatever skepticism he had over her words didn’t seem to last as he went back to smiling, holding conversation with Anthony as they walked.  The words sort of managed to blur together until they’d found their way to their destination.

--

There had been food and dancing.  It was definitely not the kind of thing that would have gone over as a social event in London but it was comfortable and homey. Penelope did feel full and the dancing did happen to calm her nerves and as the sky began to transition from day to twilight, she felt sure that maybe she’d simply let her mind get the best of her.

When Colin excused himself to go ensure that they had a proper to sleep on their wedding night, she’d let herself be left amongst the mix of stranger and Bridgertons.  Anthony had certainly had allowed himself to partake of the libations to the point where he was a bit sloppy.  She couldn’t help but feel a bit like she was intruding on a bachelor’s night with the way he was carrying on with a random woman.

Benedict for his part was keeping a respectful distance though every so often she would feel his eye on her and know he was more concerned with her safety than finding someone to spend the evening with.  She was grateful for it honestly.

“You can actually converse with me, you know?” she told him, decisively moving so that she could sit across from him at a table.  “You don’t have to go back to ignoring me.”

The fact he couldn’t quite meet her eye told her that it might have actually been his plan.  He forced his gaze up after a minute though.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he lied.

She knew he was lying and she fully intended to call him out on it. She would have if she didn’t hear a crack of the door that pulled both of their focuses away.

A tall, broad shouldered man came barreling into the room.  There was something about the presence of him that commanded everyone’s attention.

“Clara?” he bellowed.

The woman that Anthony had been carrying on with pulled away from Anthony and seemed to practically disappear into the wood of the floors. She paled and it became quite clear who Clara was.

The man’s next actions were to move toward her and raise his fist to strike.  Anthony, for his part, attempted to stop it. His drinking had made him unsteady and he took the punch himself.  Like any man of honor, he decided it appropriate to strike back.

Goosebumps formed on Penelope’s skin as she watched in absolute horror at what was taking place, the world slipping away. Before she could try and stop Benedict, he was up moving to try and get the giant away from his brother.

Anthony was most definitely losing. It wasn’t an even or fair fight by any stretch and he was going to be bloodied and bruised come the next day.  Benedict simply wanted to stop it from being worse than all of that.

What she didn’t realize was the man was reaching for a knife and neither did Benedict until he was in the process of trying to get in the middle of them.  The whole thing happened so abruptly that there was little she could do to stop the blood curling screams that escaped her as Benedict’s eyes widened and he crumpled to the floor.

The man clearly realized his mistake as soon as it happened, taking off running just as he’d came leaving a bloody mess in his wake.  The woman who’d caused it all taking one look at everything before following after.

Penelope didn’t think, didn’t breath as she moved to try and see the extent of the damage.  Anthony was trying his best to get up and be helpful but he was in no condition to go get a doctor when he needed one himself.

His voice broke as she demanded someone go find a doctor before crumpling to her own knees, accessing the wound.  She ripped the fabric from her dress, trying to use it to compress the bleeding at his abdomen as if it might be enough to hold him until a physician could arrive.

“Hold on,” she demanded.

Benedict was still awake. His eyes were open and he was breathing.  Those were all things to be hopeful for. He opened his mouth to speak a few times but the words seemed to be a struggle for him, the fact he wasn’t speaking only alarmed her all the more.

His hand moved to rest on top of her own, becoming increasingly caked in his blood.  He didn’t have to utter the words for her to know what he was trying to say.  She knew that he wasn’t going to make it but it wasn’t something that she could stand for. She wasn’t sure if she could live with herself if that was the outcome of this.

“Please don’t,” she begged.

Word had apparently gotten back to Colin about there being a problem. She didn’t hear his footsteps but she did know when she heard his horrified voice and saw him there kneeling beside her.

There was so much blood, it wasn’t completely clear who was hurt now.

“Are you hurt?” Colin asked her.

“No, Ben – he was trying to protect Anthony,” she couldn’t even finish the words.  Colin tried to take over her task of holding the wound, trying to order her away with his hands.

“I have this,” he tried to tell her.

She didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving him,” she uttered. She was near hysterical anyways. She couldn’t unseen what she’d seen.  She’d never be able to get the imagery out of her head.

“Pen, you shouldn’t have to -  I’ll stay with him,”  Colin insisted, trying to keep a calm exterior but he was far from it.  The little cracks in the normally calm exterior were on full-display.

“No,” Benedict uttered, giving Colin a look that made him relent and completely give up on any ideas he might have had about sending Penelope away from the carnage.  The damage was already done.

--

By the time they’d actually managed to get a physician there,  Benedict was already beginning to fade.  He was going in and out of consciousness. Every time that he went there, it began to feel as though he might not come back.

Anthony had begun to sober up thanks to water and the horror around him.  If it was possible, he looked worse than Benedict. The guilt was clear on his face. He blamed himself for the whole damn thing.

“Not your fault,” Benedict had told him a few moments of alertness. “I’ve always had your back in a fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Anthony told him solidly as the physician attempted to examine the wound. The grim look on his face made it clear that Benedict wasn’t going to be okay.

“The wound penetrated the spleen,” the physician informed them,  cleaning the wound with liquor which caused Benedict to writhe in pain.  He was paler than usually the shirt that he’d been wearing long discarded to be used to help try and stop the bleeding.

Penelope had read enough books that she knew that the odds weren’t in favor of anything being able to be done here except provide comfort, drown out the suffering until the brutal end.   There was a choice to be made here. They could either selfishly keep him alert or allow the physician to allow him to sleep until the end.

One look at his face and she knew the path he wanted.

“We need to get him to a bed,” she uttered. Colin and Anthony could get it done, especially with a little assistance.  Benedict deserved a little dignity and not the floor of this place.

There was no argument from the two of them either, especially as they moved to help with Anthony taking the feet and Colin taking the torso. There was a room with a bed not far off from there so they made their way, physician in tow.

When they managed to get him there, she moved to help remove his boots and socks. She was trembling but there was a mission to be had here.  She’d spent most of the last year grieving in one way or another and she would spend more of it doing the same but for now she needed to keep it together.

“Help him with the rest of his clothes,” she ordered to her new husband, turning away to provide him a little modesty.

Colin did precisely as instructed, Anthony fetching extra blankets to keep their brother warm.   They were far too shell-shocked to offer much argument over what they should be doing.

When she turned around, the physician was mixing some ingredients in a mortar and then pouring it into a drink.

Benedict’s eyes were closed but the shift in the sound of her dress, made him open them again. He nodded through the pain, offering her a silent thank you for taking control of this.

“I want you all to leave me,” he said resolutely after a long moment.  It was the strongest his voice had been since this whole nightmare had began.  “He will let you know when it’s over.”

“I will not,” Penelope said firmly.

“We will not,” Colin chimed in.

“You will. You can’t deny a man’s last request,” he said trying to offer a weak smile.  The wince made it clear it was a struggle for him.  “Take her away from this.”

Colin and Anthony exchanged looks.  As men, they had no choice but to honor the request.

Penelope wasn’t going to go as easily.

“Your last request is denied,” she told him firmly.

“I’m going to miss that fire,” he murmured after the doctor gave him the concoction.  It was already starting to make him feel drowsy. Whatever words he had left would be slurred. His gaze moved between his brothers and then Penelope again. “I’ve loved you all.  Take care of each other and… the others. Go.”

Bridgeton men were not above overly sentimental moments but Anthony touched a hand to his shoulder and nodded as if to silently say he loved him too.  He then turned heel and left, following direction.

Colin followed suit, attempting to grab Penelope by hand at first but when she refused, he picked her up and outright carried her while she kicked and screamed to be allowed back down.  He didn’t put her down until they were all outside to where they could get fresh air.

While the men handled this with stoicism, she absolutely fell apart.  She crumbled into Colin’s arms, crying and screaming until her voice was gone.  She had known something bad was going to happen and now it had.

[snowbellewells]

The Lawman, the Thief, and the Outlaw

by: @snowbellewells

(Here we are, at long last!! I am so excited to present the Rio Bravo AU I have been thinking about and wanting to write for so long.  As we are now just a little under three weeks away from Netflix’s “Heartstrings” and seeing Colin as a cowboy, I had to get going on this and channel that excitement.  If you have ever seen the old John Wayne/Dean Martin/Ricky Nelson/Walter Brennan Western “Rio Bravo”, then this will follow a lot of the basic plot points, though I will take some of my own twists and turns as well. I definitely have to give it some inspirational credit, as well as @theonceoverthinker for her help with a few plot issues I was trying to wrangle, and for the lovely ladies on the Discord chat: @kmomof4  @profdanglaisstuff @ultraluckycatnd @darkcolinodonorgasm @teamhook @wellhellotragic  for helping me with title suggestions.

Please enjoy, and I’d love to hear what you think of this opening!!)

Summary: Sheriff Killian Jones has done his best to leave behind a troubled past and bring law and order to the town of Blanchard Ridge. However, when he upholds his duty in the face of the most feared and dangerous outlaw gang in the area, allies are few and he dreads trapping them in the same situation he finds himself. The small Western town is about to become a powder keg, and one lawman, his deputies, and a resourceful woman too stubborn for her own good are all that stand in the way of bloodshed and lawlessness...

Chapter One

Sun beat down brutal and unyielding from the hot August afternoon sky onto the packed dirt of Main Street in Blanchard Ridge while the town was sleepy and still; not even the bark of a dog or the clop of hooves from a passing rider disturbed the dusty hours before the evening meal. The stage was due in at four, but as far as Killian Jones’ sharp gaze could reach from where he sat, chair tilted back on the wooden slats of the porch, appearing relaxed and lazy, nothing moved in the time of the ‘siesta’ as their neighbors just a few hours south in Pioche would call it. 

Though all appeared normal - more still than normal, even - in the sleepy little town he was meant to watch after, Jones was not about to drop his guard; he had learned long ago that calm could turn to chaos on a dime, and he aimed to be ready when the storm came. Idly, he flicked his pocket knife along the grain of the whittling stick he worked as he sat surveying the nearly deserted street, hoping to convey boredom despite every sense being keenly attuned, nerves jangling in a way that warned him something was coming - even if he didn’t yet know what it might be. He hadn’t survived as long as he had, nor gained the reputation he possessed, by growing careless, and he trusted his instincts. He slowly let his hand slide down casually, almost without notice, making certain his favorite Colt Single Action was in its holster, before going back to the soft humming and carving he’d employed since he took up his seat just past the noonday meal, upon his return from lunch at the Nolans’, and since his deputy, Scarlet, had taken off for the afternoon. 

Reflecting for a moment as he watched heat shimmer in waves before his eyes, Jones knew that he was far from the typical lawman, even in these rough territories, and the irony of his ending up here wasn’t lost on him. He didn’t give himself leave to think much on the twists and turns his life had taken, and he tried not to waste much time debating whether or not he deserved the opportunity and trust he had been granted, seeing as how neither did anyone a lick of good. But on long, lonesome afternoons such as this one, when the parched brown earth and flat, monotonous chaparral stretched before him as far as the eye could see - such a contrast from the verdant rolling hills and cool breezes of Ireland, from whence he’d immigrated with his father and brother more years ago than he could rightly count - he did sometimes wonder how he had wound up here in the desert. He was a haunted man, and he didn’t like to leave the gate open to thoughts of the past any longer than he could help it, so he slammed it closed before they could go much further. Suffice to say, he’d been offered a second chance on the right side of the law, to be part of something that wouldn’t lead to jail, lynching, or death in some back alley from a knife in the back, and he had taken it.

There was only one inmate in the jail behind him, but it was one more than usual in the peaceful settlement where folks generally got along and abided by the few simple laws there were. It had him on edge, this Felix Nightshade in their cells, and it was why he had sent Will out for a few hours when he had, so they would both be around once night fell. They’d bunk in the jail, just to be cautious. Nightshade himself might only be a bank and stagecoach robber, interchangeable with any other, but word had it that he was the lieutenant to Pan Malcolm himself, the feared and bloodthirsty outlaw who had lead the notorious Lost Boys gang terrorizing the state for some years. Killian expected a rescue attempt to come before the Federal Marshals came to fetch Nightshade and take him into custody, and if so, he reckoned they  would strike under cover of darkness. It was what he would do himself.

He was standing to stretch his long legs and lean frame from the stiffness of sitting in one position for too long when the ground beneath his feet began to tremble and there was a rumbling sound like distant thunder suddenly drawing near. A cloud of dust kicked up on the horizon and drew ever closer, until Killian began to think that he had been wrong to surmise his adversary would wait for nightfall, when he recognized what was coming. His stance eased and his hand once more slid away from his six shooter as ‘yips’ and ‘haws’ rang out with the sound of hooves and the lowing of cattle. A train was driving their herd into town.

From under the awning, the sheriff waited to see if he knew any of the riders, but it was the distinctive brand on the cows themselves as they jostled into view taking up the whole street in a lumbering river, that let him know whose livestock had arrived. The ornate “O” interlocked with a “Q” told him the whole lot of them were a former compadre of his, Robin Sherwood’s, and coming from his ranch out on the Rio Bravo river, a prime bit of real estate that had been in his second wife’s family for generations. Another former immigrant, and once ne’er-do-well like Killian himself, Rob had found love, married a powerful heiress and become one of the most prominent cattle ranchers around, going respectable with impressive style and giving his spread the name Outlaw’s Queen.  Jones didn’t know Rob’s wife all that well, didn’t even see his friend that often, as the ride out to their land was long and he didn’t often give himself days off, but she was rumored to be quite the lady. Robin truly did treat her as royalty… and was happy to do so.

Chuckling, Killian moved forward as the herd cleared through, driven into the holding pens down by the livery kept for such wagon trains passing through, then came down the steps to meet Sherwood as he swung from the saddle, smiling widely and already calling out a greeting.   The rest of his riders, including the young orphan he had taken under his wing upon hiring him as a ranch hand back in the spring, moved the cattle on, slowing them as they neared the large corral and began to guide them through the gate.

Killian had started down the weathered plank steps of the boardwalk to the packed dirt of the street, and already had his hand out to shake Rob’s, even as his old friend moved forward in a similar fashion, when the loud crack of a gunshot ran clearly in the afternoon air. Even over the lowing and stamping of the herd, the sound was unmistakable, ricocheting off the buildings and startling everyone nearby, who ducked instinctively. Unfortunately, the bullet had already found a target. Whether its intended one or not, the damage was the same, and Robin Sherwood listed to the side horribly, crashing to his knees at the foot of the steps, his hand going almost dazedly to where blood was already seeping through his shirts at the ribs.

“Rob!” Killian called out an alarmed warning too late to do the other man any good. Even as Killian hurried the last few steps to where his friend was slumped in the street, still breathing, though painfully labored, but unable to right himself from his knees where he had crumpled. “Mate, hang on,” Jones added fervently, as he knelt to survey the damage. Where the bullet had entered, if it had exited cleanly or was still inside, played a huge part in what could be done for the rancher. And even as he looked, Killian was also remaining in a crouch himself, hoping to make as small a target as possible for the unseen gunman, and keep an eye on their surroundings in case more shots were yet to come.

Chaos had erupted around them at the crack of the gunshot; the straggling cows not yet in the corral threatened to stampede in fright, and the rest of Sherwood’s riders darted here and there, whooping and hollering to keep their animals in line. All except one of them -

Killian swallowed back an unwanted lump of emotion trying to burn its way up his throat at the sound of young Henry’s cracked voice crying out an anguished “No!” over the melee, his horse thundering up to the hitching post near them and his gangly legs swinging into Killian’s view as he dismounted and slid to his knees beside them, looking to the sheriff for some sort of reassurance. Killian honestly didn’t know if it was the living hope still alight in the youth’s wide brown eyes - not yet having lived long enough in the crooked old world to have lost faith in things turning out alright - or if it was the vivid flash of horrific memory, bringing his brother’s pained face, as he last remembered seeing it, swimming with ghastly clarity before his eyes too quickly for him to fully shutter it away. Jones didn’t have time for sentiment; the shooter needed to be found. He also needed to be certain no other citizens were hurt, and see to Rob’s wounds once the dust settled. It looked as though the injury had been a clean through-and-through shot, and if he could get Sherwood to Nolan’s without his losing too much blood, he thought David’s pretty, fresh-faced wife: cook, seamstress, and pretty much anything else a person could call for, could stitch him up while they got Doc Hopper to make sure no infection set in. 

The melee around them seemed to be settling down; the riders herding the rest of the cattle into the pen safely and no further shots coming from wherever the assailant’s hiding place had been. The thought that the bullet in Rob’s side had quite probably had his own name on it, was another thing Killian Jones had no time to ruminate on. Clearly the shooter had turned tail when they’d botched the job of taking the Sheriff out of commission, and ridden back for further instructions rather than risking discovery. From what Jones had heard of Malcolm and the precision with which he expected his orders to be followed, the law man reckoned that bloke had every bit as unpleasant a few hours in front of him as Robin did with people poking and prodding at his side.

Pushing all his numerous worries and concerns back for the moment, Killian met the eyes of the lanky young man before him, “Henry, isn’t it?”

The boy nodded, not saying anything, but acknowledging the sheriff’s words with a determined furrow of his brow, trying manfully to hold in his obvious fear and worry for his adopted father. Killian was grateful for the youth’s gumption, even if he hated asking more yet. He knew well how much Sherwood must mean to the lad. When Henry had arrived in town back in the spring, by far the oldest child on the Orphan Train that had driven through seeking homes to take their charges in, it had been clear that a boy of nearly fourteen was not the age most childless families were hoping to start out with. Robin, however, having lost a first wife and young son who would have been about Henry’s age to the influenza years prior, hadn’t hesitated for a second when Killian had mentioned the boy’s plight to him.  It did some good to even Jones’ toughened and grizzled outlook on the world to see that the arrangement had worked out better than he could have hoped. Aiming to put some semblance of encouragement in his tone he added, “I think he’ll recover if we can stop the bleeding and get him sewn up,” he offered. 

Moving to brace Robin on one side, and gesturing Henry to do the same under his arm on the right, between the two of them they got Sherwood to his feet, thought unsteadily and leaning on their combined strength. In a shuffling walk they had soon guided him across the way to the inn and restaurant, finding its proprietor, David Nolan, already at the door and coming to help usher them in to safety, his petite, dark-headed wife Mary right behind.

In a better moment, Killian might have shaken his head and laughed at the pair of them, never far from one another and both with hearts as wide as the Rio Grande itself, always trying to do what they could for anyone in need who came to their door. He’d had Mary’s cool, soft hands fluttering over him more than once after some on-the-job injury in the line of duty, and so he knew the woman must already be itching to get her hands on Rob and do what she could to ease his pain.

To speak his mind plainly, Killian would have been forced to admit that he’d often wondered how two people as fine as the Nolans, whose very nature and bearing spoke of class and manners unheard of this far West, had ended up in this rugged New Mexican outpost. They both were too kind, too open and trusting for their own good, and Killian spent more time than he would admit to hoping they weren’t robbed or taken advantage of by whatever rough characters might come riding through. Yet beneath the surface, where he sensed there may once have been a sheltered, easy life that would never have been enough for either one of them, he had long since decided the pair must have a wealth of strength he hadn’t at first been able to see. They’d come to Blanchard Ridge and opened the inn not long after Killian had pinned on the Sheriff’s badge, and neither one seemed to have a thought in their heads towards leaving. 

Once they got Rob laid out on a bed in the closest possible empty room, Mary began preparing hot water, clean washcloths, and other materials she needed, while her husband set out with the young ranchhand to fetch the Doctor. Sherwood had clung to his senses as long as possible, but he seemed to be drifting away from awareness, now that he was settled and had reached relative safety. Killian made sure the lady had no need of his assistance, to which she shooed him away to go watch for the others’ return.

Striding out in the main dining area, Jones set up watch at the door, not as much for the doctor, Nolan, and Henry as to see what was happening in the main street. Gunfire was as unusual as he could possibly make it in the center of their small outpost, and so after the ruckus of the last hour the dirt thoroughfare was deserted, people having no wish to be caught in the crossfire - whatever was going on.

His first instinct, the gunfighter’s fire within that had pushed him along until settling there and seeking out a modicum of peace, even if he had to keep it himself, had him edgy, chomping at the bit to get out after the culprit firing on himself or his townspeople in broad daylight. But the lawman he had become had to allow his temper to subside; he couldn’t lash out with the need for vengeance and retaliation. And, if the shot hadn’t been meant to kill him outright, then it had no doubt been meant to send him chasing after shadows rather than staying on guard with his prisoner awaiting the Federal Marshall.

The only thing that was stirring as he continued to stare out at the street before him was the cloud of dust drawing closer and signalling the arrival of the four o’clock stagecoach. They pulled up down the way by the post office, before heading on to the livery, for those horses to be watered, brushed down, and a new team hitched up before the stage headed on to the next settlement. One rider jumped down from up top to run the mail pouch in to the postmaster. The whole routine carried on exactly as usual, until a dainty booted foot stepped out onto the wooden boardwalk from inside the stage. A deep green traveling dress, accented in places with an overlay of black lace, drew his eye up to a stunning, pale feminine face, a strong chin and pert little nose, though the rest of the unknown woman’s visage was hidden by an artfully tilted hat with wide brim to shade her face. Now that was unusual; visitors to the Ridge were exceedingly rare.

He tried to move on from the arrestingly lovely sight, as the woman surveyed her surroundings and then began walking in his direction towards the inn, an enticing sway in her step. No call to be gawping at her like some untried greenhorn, no matter how long it had been since --   No, no time for those thoughts either. He was standing lookout over the main way in and out of town, the jail, and his friend; that was more than enough to focus on.

However, as the lady neared the entrance, Killian did open the door for her, touching the brim of his hat slightly, with an easy dip of his chin and a simple, “Afternoon, Ma’am.” 

She raised her head enough for beguiling green eyes to be seen from beneath her own chapeau. They twinkled with some bit of mischief and humor, as she replied, “Why thank you, Sheriff,” with a pointed glance to his badge. “Good afternoon to you.”  She then brushed by him so closely that he felt her warmth, making the small hairs on his arm stand on end, and caught the inviting scent of apple blossom, and the cold mix of leather and cinnamon along with it.

Was it only an hour or so ago that the town had appeared sleepily uneventful? Sheriff Killian Jones sensed now that his trouble was just starting, and in more ways than one.

Tagging some who may enjoy: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @linda8084 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @effulgentcolors @thisonesatellite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @shireness-says @spartanguard @winterbaby89

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Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Marina Thompson/Phillip Crane, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane, Kate Sheffield/Anthony Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Phillip Crane, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

Penelope had always been a pretty girl but when she came down the stairwell with Eloise at her side prepared for their evening out, Colin’s jaw practically came unhinged. If she was looking to give him a heart attack, she was succeeding. His pupils widened and felt stomach clench in anxiety and desire.  

It probably had to do with the fact she was in a dress that contoured to her body, left little to the imagination and was dangerously short.  He wasn’t sure whether to jump her right there on against the stair railings or throw a coat on her.

“Get a grip on yourself,” Eloise murmured, rolling her eyes at him.

He took a moment pondering whether it would be appropriate to suggest that he wanted to get a grip on Penelope instead.  He opted for a different direction.  A joke about masturbation might earn less ire.

“I love to but we’d be late to meet up with Phillip,” he retorted before offering his arm to Penelope.  He waited for her to latch on before offering his other to his sister.

Penelope could overhear Eloise murmuring the word disgusting as she did latch on and they made their way outside to a waiting ride.  There was no sense in any of them driving if they were to drink and Colin hadn’t saw fit to force anyone into the Designated Driver role. It was far easier to all pile in and let someone else do the heavy lifting of getting them to the bar they’d agreed to meet up at.

Colin had made up his mind that he was going to get the seat in the back with Penelope.  There was absolutely no way he was sitting in the front with the driver.

“I’ll let you have the front,” he offered Eloise.  “You’ll have more room to spread out.”

She didn’t go for that though.

“I’d really rather sit in the back with Pen,” Eloise told him, sizing him up with her eyes.

“We could all sit in the back then,”  Colin said knowing there would be no convincing his sister otherwise.

“I can sit in the front if it’s a problem,” Penelope offered after a moment, not wanting to be in the middle of a sibling fight.

Colin and Eloise both let out a “no” at the same time. They’d at least found one thing to agree about.

Penelope let out a laugh at that.

“Okay then,” she told them letting them sort out who was going to sit where.  She had the whole night to hang out with Colin so she wasn’t terribly fussed about where. Eloise was the smallest of the group so it made sense if he took the middle seat.

She was surprised when somehow she ended up in the middle though. She felt a bit ridiculous squeezed into the space but as long as there wasn’t an argument about it and they reached their destination, she wasn’t going to complain.

She wasn’t completely sure the seat belt was going to even fasten. She couldn’t help but squirm when she felt Colin reaching under her try and find it, spending a little more time than necessary to try and help her get the job done.

“You really do look incredible,” he murmured quietly to her, hoping the vehicle’s music would keep the words beyond his sister’s ears. He didn’t need or want commentary.

Those five words were enough to make Penelope’s cheeks pink in the dark.  She had a feeling she’d stay a particularly rosy shade if the night continued on this path.

She might have been trapped between Colin and Eloise but Colin’s proximity was the only one that felt electric.  One glance at Colin and she could almost read his mind.

He was debating how many times his sister might bounce if he pushed her out of the car.

--

The ride itself to the city wasn’t long.  There was literally no person who wasn’t eager to get out of the car when they got there.  Colin easily spotted tall, unassuming Phillip standing against the brick façade waiting on them.

He offered a hand shake upon approach.

“I’m glad you could find a sitter,” he said with a smile before gesturing to Penelope.  “This is Penelope and …”  He then gestured to Eloise, “And this is my pain in the ass little sister.”

“I’m Phillip,” he said greeting both girls though Colin completely picked up on the fact his sister didn’t have a remark. He gave her a glance and immediately questioned whether using Phillip as a distraction was a good idea.  Eloise was practically melting into the sidewalk and he’d never seen her with that look on her face. Why was his sister looking at Phillip like that?

“I’m Eloise,” she said afraid, offering her arm. As Eloise started off inside with Phillip, Colin couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.  He waited for a second before looking at Penelope who looked a bit stunned and amused herself.

“Don’t ask me. I’ve never seen her act like that around a guy before,” Penelope said as she latched onto Colin, her laughter filling the warm night as they followed behind him.

“Do I let it play out or do I immediately remind her that he’s grieving?”  Colin couldn’t help but ask.

“You let it play out,” Penelope told him. “Maybe if she’s distracted, I’ll be able to get a dance or two in with you without her trying to dance in-between us.”

“She never tried to dance in-between us at parties before,” Colin couldn’t help but say. He was amused to hear Penelope glad that Eloise was distracted though.

“The way people dance in front of their mothers is entirely different than the way they dance at a bar,” Penelope couldn’t help but muse.

Colin grinned wickedly at that. She did make a very valid point. He shot a glance toward his sister who had dragged Phillip toward a booth to get some drinks.  Phillip was well aware of the fact he was dying to get a little one on one time with Penelope so if they just happened to not go join them for the first round it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Shall we dance then, Pen?”

--

Eloise was the absolute last thing on Colin’s mind once he was on the dance floor with Penelope. She’d always been an exceptional dancer but there was actually a big difference between formalized dances at boring society events and this.

He loved the fact that she wasn’t shy about the way she leaned back into him, guided his arms around hers or the way they swayed to the music.  The warmth of her curves against his was enough to distract him from anything.

He’d planned to have a few drinks himself but he was stone cold sober and he was grateful for it, especially when he decided to spin her around to face him so he could bring her even closer.

His gaze fell on hers and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Penelope more alive as she shifted, filled any space that might have dared exist between them. His hand went had respectfully stayed on the small of her back, couldn’t help but find its way to her ass.

“I need to confess something,” he told her, leaning his tall body down enough so that she might have a fighting chance of hearing him.

Her eyes met his and she seemed to be debating whether to tell him to go ahead or not but her face softened and she decided to cut him off at the pass.

“I’ve always wanted you,” she told him confessing the truth of the matter.

He’d planned to say something along the same lines or at least that he wanted her and that he’d probably always had and hadn’t quite realized just how much until recently but the words didn’t come out.

Instead he dipped his head down and pressed his mouth to hers, a free hand tangling in her red curls as he showed her just how much he wanted her too.

Penelope received the message loud and clear, her shorter body pushing against his until she had Colin against a hard wall in some dark corner. It was certainly far from private but the shadows were at least somewhat more private than the dance floor.

Never in his most erotic dreams had he imagined Penelope would be the aggressor in this situation and yet there they were and it was all he could do to keep it together as he tried to regain some control, spinning her around until she was the one against the wall. He was too much of a gentleman to take her there but he certainly wasn't going to miss the opportunity to make her beg for it.  Then again, he was probably the one who ought to be begging for it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured against her lips. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[invisibleinorange]

Goodbyes

Chapters: N/A, One-Shot (Maybe) Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: G Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply;  Vague mention of Lord Featherington’s death. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington, Violet Bridgerton Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary: Colin waits to say goodbye to his family before leaving for Greece but there is someone he wishes was there. A Colin POV from the final episode of s1 of the show series.

--

He’d made it clear that he would be departing promptly at noon. Colin had to keep a schedule if he was going to make it to the ship and on the way to Greece.  That didn’t mean that as his family said their goodbyes to him that his eyes didn’t keep gazing toward the windows of the Featherington home.  Nor did that mean that he didn’t find himself stalling a bit.

Eloise had apologized off, promising that she wouldn’t be late to say goodbye some hours ago. He’d seen her heading off in that direction.   While it hadn’t been a topic of conversation beyond an idle passing remark from his mother, he was aware that Lord Featherington had died unexpectedly. It made sense that Eloise would want to check on her best friend.

He didn’t begrudge her that.

It wasn’t his sister’s absence that bothered him at all actually nor any other family member. It was the distinct lack of Penelope.

Despite the abundance of reasons why she wasn’t there, Colin had been certain that Penelope would at least show her face one last time before he departed.  It bothered him that she wasn’t there, not that he could have voiced as much.

He could have easily asked Eloise to bring Penelope over for his departure. He had no doubt his mother would have latched onto any request though, read into it far more than he would have appreciated.  It wasn’t a conversation that he was ready to have.

He had tried to speak directly with Penelope at the ball.  She’d practically glowed in the candle light and she’d been as lively and passionate as he’d ever seen her.  While he’d told her of his plans to leave, told her she was encouraged him back to his travels there was so much more that he’d wanted to say.

She’d apparently had things to say too and by telling her that he was leaving, she’d clammed up. He had watched her spirit crumble, the way she pulled away and refused his offer of a dance.

She didn’t know that he’d wanted to spend whatever fleeting time that he had left at home in her presence but he’d not had the opportunity to say as much. He couldn’t even chase after her.  Penelope was far from slow when she was determined to make an escape.

Perhaps he let her though.

She deserved better than a foolish boy with wanderlust in his veins.

Her family and the Ton maybe didn’t see her or appreciate her but one day he knew someone would come around and absolutely sweep her off her feet.  Her time was coming and she’d be the happiest of them all.

“Do you want me to go grab our sister?” he heard Anthony ask, clearly picking up on the fact Colin had dazed off staring at Featherington’s window. Clearly he’d been staring at the window for far too long.

His cheeks burned and he focused his attention back to his horse, pretending to be fascinated with the straps.

“Why would you want to go and do a thing like that?” he said, forcing a crooked smile.  “She’ll ruin the whole thing.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sealed letter. His messy cursive penned on the letter to indicate who it belonged to. He debated pocketing it again, forgetting about the whole ordeal all together.

He cast another glance to his pocket watch with his other hand before deciding it was now or never. If he didn’t get on his horse and leave he wasn’t going to end up doing it.

“Will you do me a favor?” he asked to brother, careful to keep his voice low away from their other siblings or worse their mother.

“No, but you’re going to ask so go ahead,” his older brother replied.

He narrowed his eyes, lips pursing before he extended the letter.

“Just give this to our annoyingly tardy sister.  She can handle the delivery,” he uttered.  

Anthony looked it over, raising a quizzical eyebrow before pocketing it.  The look was enough to make Colin’s jaw tense in defensiveness.

“I wanted to extend my sympathy.  I practically married into their family. Penelope has been a –“ he started, prepared to go on an absolute tangent in defense of not only the best Featherington but one of the most decent people in the Ton.  Penelope had always been there for him. She was an living, breathing angel and he wouldn't stand for anyone, including his brother lumping her in with the rest of her family.

Apparently his voice had risen significantly enough to earn the attention of everyone waiting to say their goodbyes.  He’d also completely overlooked the fact his tardy sister had finally arrived with little time to spare and was looking more than curiously at the whole interlude.

Eloise raised an eyebrow as well, hearing just enough to know that she didn’t want to ask questions.

“Speaking of Pen, she wanted me to wish you safe travels. She’s sorry that she couldn’t do it herself but – things are difficult at her house right now,” Eloise explained.

“That poor dear,” Violet said. It was clear that she didn’t add further for fear of speaking ill of the dead or the rest of the Featherington clan.

“I wouldn’t even be here to say goodbye to me if it could be helped,” he  responded with a shrug.  He was grateful for save, though he was hardly comforted by thoughts of Penelope Featherington’s pain.

He decided he could not prolong his goodbyes or linger there thinking of it.  He moved from sibling to sibling in an effort to get on his horse and go.

As he climbed upon his trusted steed, he cast one more glance toward his own and then another at the Featheringtons before he departed to waves of his family.

His resolve was thin but he couldn’t stay.