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flamehairedwritings · 5 years ago

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The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twelve

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Smooth As Tennessee Whisky

By candlelight, parts of her hair almost looked gold. He brushed his fingers over it, having learned minutes earlier that if he ran them through it they would just become tangled and she’d start giving him shit.

Now, she was quiet, lying on her side, her head on his stomach, facing him. Her eyes were closed, her hand tucked under her chin, holding onto the sheet he’d draped over his lower half and her, and his gaze lingered on her. It travelled over the faint scar on her left eyebrow, the light dusting of freckles across her skin, some darker than others, her swollen lips.

The last one brought a smile to his own.

She’d come undone again under his mouth and fingers, her hips bucking and rolling as she’d moaned freely and loudly. Then, she hadn’t wanted to stop kissing him, her fingers locked in his hair, her tongue dancing with his. It wasn’t until her legs had wrapped around his hips that he’d reluctantly drawn back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if they continued.

He’d lit more candles, poured himself a drink then settled back on the bed. She’d curled up, resting her head on him and he’d tugged the sheet over them and they’d been lying quietly since.

The saloon below had quietened, too, though there would be an occasional laugh or raising of voices, lasting only a few seconds. Hooves would sometimes sound on the cobbles outside but other than that the streets were silent.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace.

“What are you smiling about?” she murmured, making his gaze meet hers.

“Nothin’.”

“Really?”

“Nothin’ you need to know about.”

“Thinking about John?”

She laughed as he gently tugged on a curl, his lips pressing together to hide his smile.

“What were you thinkin’ about?”

Her head shifted a little, her smile now lingering. “My parents, actually.”

His fingers resumed stroking her hair. “What about ‘em?”

“They shared a night similar to this. My mother never told me the details, as you can imagine, but from what I gather that first night, when they ran away, they stayed at a hotel and probably got up to all kinds of mischief.”

She hummed softly as his fingers massaged her scalp.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask, how did they meet?”

“At a local dance.” Her hand moved out from under the covers, settling over his at his side. “He was passing through one night, on his way to New York to make a decent living, and he needed a place to stay. The saloon was holding a dance and he decided to have a drink before retiring for the night when he saw my mother. She’d been rebellious for the first time in her life and had snuck out of the house with a friend and gone to the saloon. One of the greatest nights of her life, she called it.” Her smiled widened a little. “’I danced so much, Adaline, I nearly wore the soles of my shoes down. Then I saw your daddy...’ He asked her to dance, she said yes and that was it. She knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. He made her laugh harder than anyone else she had ever met, and would have done anything for her.” Her finger tips idly brushed over his skin. “Her parents hated it, of course, so that’s why they ran away. She loved them but she loved him more. He was enough, she said.” She took in a quiet breath, her fingers tracing over his knuckles. “Then Thomas came along, then me. We were the only family she needed, she said, though she kept in touch with my uncle. He’d been exiled from the family for reasons she didn’t know before she met Daddy but she’d been writing to him secretly and he said he was happy for her, though he never visited.”

Arthur drew her hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing against her temple. “Do you remember much about him, your daddy?”

She shrugged a shoulder, grazing her teeth over her lower lip. “There are pieces of memories, then some things that I don’t know whether I know because I actually remember them or because Thomas and Mama told me them.” Her hand moved to his chest, her fingers splaying. “What were your parents like?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, exhaling a long breath. “My father was a no good bastard, didn’t much care for me. I don’t remember my Momma very well, she died when I was very young, but from what I do she was a kind lady.”

“What happened to your father?”

“He was hanged for larceny. I went and watched... It didn’t come soon enough.”

His gaze had fallen to where her fingers were tracing gentle shapes over his skin, and she smiled softly.

“Look at us, two orphans with such tragic stories.”

He chuckled, his free hand rising to settle over hers, pausing her drawings. “I don’t think adults can be orphans, sweetheart.”

“Sure we can. People will feel more sorry for us, then.”

“From what I’ve seen, people ain’t pityin’ orphans a lot these days.”

She snorted, adjusting her head on him. “Well-bred people do. They all read Oliver Twist and suddenly developed a conscience.”

“What’s Oliver Twist?”

“It’s a story from an English author about a boy who’s an orphan and he gets taken in by a gang of thieves led by a very charismatic man...” She trailed off, her smile widening. “... Now I mention it, it sounds rather familiar...”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, yeah, what else happens?”

“Thieving, a grand plan and murder. Oh, but he ends up being adopted by a very rich man so don’t despair, there’s hope for you yet.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips. “I guess there is... You sure like to read a lot, huh?”

Her lips twitched. “You make it sound like it’s an undesirable trait.”

“Nah, I just... You just read so fast, you and Hosea is always swappin’ books and talkin’ about ‘em. I can never get into ‘em.”

“Well, between playing make-believe, thinking about my dead relatives and sewing, there wasn’t much else for a young lady to do.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Weren’t those suitors takin’ up all your time?”

She licked her lips to hide the beginnings of a smile. “Not as much as you’d think.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it a moment later. “Did you really not accept their proposals out of practicality?”

“At first, yes... then it became up to my uncle when he realised he could make a good business arrangement if I were to have the right suitor. There aren’t many good arrangements in Strawberry, however, so the proposals stopped.”

He asked before he could stop himself. “Had a lot, did you?”

“I had six.”

“Six?!”

Her eyebrows shot up as a wide smile spread across her lips. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not that hideous and boring, am I?”

“No, I, I just—”

She cut in, deciding to spare him from having to search for a reply, still grinning. “I think it was just because I was new, at first, someone different.”

“Nah.” His fingers gently caressed the back of her neck. “I think it was somethin’ more than that.”

A fluttering sensation rose in her stomach as he gazed at her. Smiling widely after a moment, she lifted her head and leaned up on her elbow, the sheet slipping down her chest a little.

She didn’t know why she asked it.

“And what about you, Arthur Morgan, what ladies have you charmed in your life-time?”

His hand slid down her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her bicep. “Mary and I were engaged once, and... Well, you know already, it didn’t work out.”

“There’s been no one else?”

He gazed at her, wrapping his finger around a curl, then shook his head after a few moments. “Nah, no one else. Ain’t had the time, really.”

She tilted her head. “Not even with Mary-Beth?”

Arthur exhaled a breath, tugging on the curl slightly. “Nah, I ain’t ever done nothin’ with Mary-Beth. It sounds like you want me to have, though.”

“No, I just...” She shrugged a shoulder. “She likes you so much. I thought she would have tried to initiate something or...”

He arched an eyebrow. “Or I would have taken advantage?”

She pressed her lips together, a smile pulling at them. “No... She’s just a sweet girl, what’s not to like?”

“I know, I just... Ain’t been interested. You, however...” She got the feeling he was trying to distract her as he sat up, his arm wrapping around her back... and she allowed it, leaning into his hold with a widening smile. “... You have certainly caught my attention.”

She didn’t mind the distraction at all. “Mmh, and how have I done that?”

Arthur snorted, raising his eyebrows. “You lookin’ for compliments, darlin’? ‘cause I ain’t the best at ‘em.”

Her finger tips slid up his arm as his hand settled on her hip. “You don’t have to give compliments with words, Morgan.”

He laughed, half in awe, half in incredulity. “Miss Adaline, you’re quickly becomin’ insatiable.”

“That’s a big word for you.”

“Christ, let’s shut that mouth of yours...”

As she laughed, lying back on the bed, the sheet falling away, his mouth descending upon her, neither of them heard the movement on the balcony boards outside their room.

—

She awoke to his arm across her stomach and his mouth on her shoulder.

“I’m the insatiable one?”

“Be quiet, woman.”

He helped her dress, mainly as an excuse to have his hands on her. She said as much, grinning, and he didn’t bother to deny it, his lips finding hers. After returning the key to the bartender, who never seemed to sleep, they returned to their horses with their luggage, deciding to forgo breakfast as Arthur decided ‘we ain’t givin’ this place any more money’.

Once out of the already awake Saint Denis, they journeyed back to camp at a leisurely pace, smiling at passersby and offering greetings. It was a warm morning, the sun gently heating the earth. Glancing at Arthur occasionally, he would soon meet her gaze, a corner of his mouth lifting.

Javier greeted them upon their return.

“Well, good morning.”

“Hello, Javier, how are you?”

“Just fine, Miss Annie, just fine, and you?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

His far too knowing grin at her reply had her eyes narrowing slightly.

They hitched their horses, Kieran appearing from somewhere with a quiet ‘Hello’ and a promise to brush Faithful and Ophelia down. After retrieving their luggage from their saddles, they walked side by side down the main path, trying hard not to look at one another.

Karen and Tilly sat on the empty fountain, cups of coffee in their hands, suspiciously expectantly. A wide smile spread across Karen’s lips as Tilly hid hers with her cup, taking a long sip.

“Hey, you two, how was your evenin’?”

“Hello, Karen, it was fine, thank you,” Arthur answered, his tone disinterested, searching the area.

“Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Turning to Ada, his features softened a touch. “I’ll see you later, all righ’? I gotta catch up with Dutch.”

She nodded, smiling, and watched him walk away for a few moments before she turned to the girls. Tilly’s lips were pressed against her cup, Karen’s mouth was open in a broad grin, and Ada exhaled a long breath.

“Miss Annie Sawyer, you—”

“Good day, Karen, I need to get some coffee.”

“I bet you do, you—”

“See you later, girls.”

Ada left them giggling to themselves, shaking her head. People had obviously been speculating the night before and she found she wasn’t agitated at their speculations being true, or the teasing that had already begun... Not yet, anyway.

Placing her small bags in her stand, she brushed her skirt down, her eyes landing on Arthur on the other side of the camp, talking with Hosea and Lenny. He was smiling at whatever Lenny was saying, and that made her smile. However, after a few moments, it faltered.

Away from camp he had seemed more himself, relaxed, his own person. Back at it... How would it go from here?

—

Arthur chuckled to himself as he made his way up the stairs of the house. Lenny always made him laugh, God damn, he loved that kid.

“Have a good night?”

Already knowing who it was and already wanting to beat the shit out of them, he glanced up as he reached the top floor, finding a grinning John Marston leaning against the wall.

“Are you still here?” Arthur retorted as he moved past him, heading to his room.

John followed him into his room, laughing. “Trust me, I ain’t goin’ nowhere for a while.”

Worse than the God damn girls...

“Get outta my room, Marston, go and teach your son to stay outta people’s business.”

“Oh, he’s plenty good at that.”

“Maybe he can teach you, then.” He narrowed his eyes at the younger man as he dropped his bags and took his jacket off, watching John sit on his bed, leaning back against the wall and still grinning.

“Interesting times...”

Oh, for Christ’s sake...

Turning his head to find Dutch standing out on the balcony between the open doors, cigar in his hand, also grinning, Arthur sighed heavily.

This is gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I guess,” he answered, arching an eyebrow as he rolled his sleeves up. “So, what’s next? Dancing lessons? Deportment?”

“More along the lines of armed robbery.” Both John and Arthur looked at him, interested. Dutch smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Hosea’s handling reconnaissance on the bank. He and Abigail are gonna run some distractions, see how the law reacts.”

John didn’t say anything, playing with a fraying section of his shirt sleeve.

“Good,” Arthur said, running a hand down his face and holding off a yawn.

“Oh, and I spoke to Evelyn Miller,” Dutch said proudly, taking a seat on a crate. “A fine man. Here helping the Indian chief we saw.”

“Yeah, I met him, too,” Arthur said, taking a seat himself and stretching his legs out, “with the Mayor.”

Dutch nodded. “He’s lobbying officials in Saint Denis on their behalf. Maybe we could help.”

Arthur shrugged. It didn’t seem much like their area, in fact it was way off, it was a big issue, but... Dutch adored Miller and, well, ‘save people as need savin’’. “Maybe.”

“Now, I think there’s a lot of money on that riverboat in Saint Denis,” Dutch continued, probably having spoken about it the night before with Hosea. “A lot of money. And Trelawney, he’s investigating for us.” Dutch smiled, glancing at them both. “One big score down here, boys, and we disappear. We’re almost headin’ home.”

Arthur glanced at John as Dutch stood and walked past him, but couldn’t catch his gaze. He was just looking at Dutch.

“And where is home, Dutch?” Arthur asked lightly, looking to him.

The older man paused and turned back to them. “I don’t know, exactly.” Then, he smiled again. “But I can smell it.” Nodding, he moved out onto the balcony. “I’m gonna go investigate this trolley thing Old Bronte was talking about.”

“Okay.”

As Dutch departed, Arthur looked back to John who finally looked at him. Raising his eyebrows slightly, the younger man then suddenly broke out into a grin.

“So, you were gonna say how your evenin’ was?”

“I am gonna throw you off the fuckin’ balcony...”

—

"... Do you want the stick? Do you, Cain?”

The dog barked, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he seemed to be almost smiling.

“Go on, go and get it!”

She flung the long stick away, the dog immediately racing after it. She placed her hands on her hips as she watched him leap up into the air, catch it and... continue on running, disappearing behind a shed. Lifting her hands in faint exasperation, Ada then dropped them and let her gaze travel the expanse of the land. It had turned into a very warm day, drawing nearly all activity to a halt, as usual, people taking the opportunity to nap or relax. She’d unpacked what little luggage she had, leaving her new, beautiful dress wrapped in cloth to keep it safe, had some coffee and stew, then read a few paragraphs of her book, then gone to find work, then helped Kieran feed the horses.

They were all good distractions from thinking about Arthur.

She was fine with it all now, anyway. It was all straight in her head. It wasn’t serious. They were just enjoying each other, and why not? It wasn’t for forever. It was fine.

She’d wanted to talk to Sadie, to fill her in, but she was out hunting for most of the day. Anyway, it was all fine.

Whilst brushing down Faithful, she’d heard Cain faintly barking at the back of the house and had gone to investigate. She’d found him digging a hole, several others close by, and had decided they both needed to keep themselves busy.

Cain had obviously decided otherwise.

Some people are just out for themselves these days.

Turning, her arms swinging slightly as she tried to think of what to do next, staring at the ground, she headed for her stand.

Sleep? No, her body felt too... restless. Read? No, same reason. Walk? Possibly, but in this heat—

She collided with something solid. Hands gently gripped her arms as her head whipped up and she raised her fists. Arthur snorted as she paused, her body relaxing.

“You really think you could knock somebody out?”

She smiled, raising an eyebrow as her hands dropped onto his chest before she swiftly remembered where they were, her hands falling to her sides. “I’ve yet to get into a fist fight so we could find out.”

“Well, I know you ain’t that strong.”

Her mouth dropped open in good-natured indignation. “How dare you, you don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“How?”

“Your grip on my hair weren’t that strong.”

She pressed her lips together, involuntary heat rising on her cheeks as she fought off a smile. He hadn’t released her yet and she lifted her hands, knocking his arms away. He allowed it, following behind her after she’d side-stepped him and continued on.

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to hurt you, you’re very delicate.”

He snorted again. “Maybe. You can certainly bring me to my knees.”

For the love of God...

“Don’t you have important things to be doing, besides bothering me? Like robbing innocent people?”

“I like botherin’ you, though.”

“Obsession isn’t an attractive trait, Mr Morgan.”

“I can tell you what is attractive...”

Before she knew it, he’d caught her by the waist and pulled her to the side, pressing her against the wood of the house, one hand on her hip, the other by her head. A lazy smile broke out across his features as she huffed, his gaze sweeping over her.

“... The way you look today, Miss Sawyer.”

It was so hard not to smile. Folding her arms, she raised her chin.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr Morgan, but I have things to be getting on with so please move.”

“Like what?”

“Things.”

“Such as?”

“Things.”

“From what I saw, I think you got some time to spare.”

“I am actually incredibly busy.”

“Too busy for a kiss?”

That made her pause, her breath catching slightly. He took the opportunity.

Cupping her cheek, he bowed his head and kissed her softly.

Oh, Lord...

She relented... for a few moments.

“Arthur Morgan...” she murmured in the best scandalised tone she could muster as she drew her head back, her gaze darting about.

His smirk returned. “What? Everybody knows.”

“Everybody thinks.”

“Everybody’s right.”

She huffed again, though he could see the smile beginning to form. “Still...”

“Still, what?” he prompted as she didn’t continue. Chuckling, he brushed his thumb over her parted lips, his fingers splaying across her jaw and neck. “I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste...” he murmured after a few moments, his tone significantly lower.

She inhaled a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder before meeting his gaze. “... I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”

She said the words so quietly she was surprised he heard her. His thumb settled under her chin, applying a light pressure, making her head tip back.

“Good.”

His lips were on hers once more, teasing hummed moans from her as he kissed her leisurely. His tongue stroked at her in a way reminiscent of how he had rendered her speechless the night before... three times... and that morning... She hadn’t had much of a chance to return the favour, but the next opportunity she had...

Her hands found their way to his chest, curling into his faded blue shirt and holding on. Lord, she wanted his hands on her again, this was just so—

A pointed cough had her head recoiling back.

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Hosea asked, smiling even as his eyebrows rose in innocence.

Annie met his gaze and swiftly released Arthur as her cheeks flushed, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and Arthur sighed wearily, straightening. Hosea couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them.

Just like he’s a damn teenager again...

“You know you are, old man.” Arthur dropped his hands to his gunbelt as he turned with an arched brow, silently communicating a ‘what the hell’ to the older man.

Hosea raised his hands with a shrug. “My eyesight ain’t as good as it once was, I couldn’t tell if you were chokin’ her or not.”

Over Arthur’s shoulder, he could see Annie just about managing to hide a smile, her fingers pressed against her lips, but Arthur wasn’t as obviously amused.

“Righ’. What d’you want?”

“Josiah wants to see you in Saint Denis, at the tailor’s.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you go and find out?”

Sighing again, knowing exactly why Trelawney wanted him and cursing bad timing for it, Arthur muttered under his breath before turning to her. Hosea watched as his features softened and Annie smiled as their eyes met.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured, intimately, and Annie nodded, her hands clasped in front of her belt as she tried to control her smile.

“Okay.” Her response was just as quiet, and Hosea almost felt guilty for his intrusion. Almost.

Arthur shook his head at him as he passed. “We need to talk about boundaries.”

Hosea chuckled. “I think it’s a little late for that, son.”

They both watched him stride past the fountain and towards Ophelia, each smiling in varying degrees of fondness. After a few moments, his gaze slid to her.

He liked the girl, she was bright, could talk about literature just as much as he could and she had proven herself to be a valuable asset to the group. And, perhaps, he could admit, some of his opinion was also influenced by the fact Arthur was sweet on her, most evidently... and that was good.

The boy deserved something of his own, something good to keep him going. Dutch had agreed with him on that.

“Sorry about that,” he finally said as her attention turned to him, “but duty calls, unfortunately.”

Her cheeks were still glowing a faint red. “Oh, no, it’s no trouble at all. I have my own things to be getting on with, too.”

“Come, then,” he beckoned jovially, “let me escort you to your duties.”

She smiled widely, inclining her head. “Why, thank you, sir.”

She really was one of the good ones.

“How are ya gettin’ on with that book I lent ya?”

“Oh, I’m really enjoying it!” She found her arm looping through his as they headed for the girl’s wagon, his hand patting her arm. “Far more than a book I bought myself, actually.”

“Have you got to chapter eighteen yet?”

“No, why?”

“Ooh, you’ll see.”

—

Arthur didn’t return for the evening meal and neither did Trelawney. Upon enquiring to Charles, she discovered they were to make a hit on a riverboat in Saint Denis along with Javier and Strauss.

“My God...”

“Yes, it does seem rather...”

“Ambitious?”

“I think we laugh at that word here.”

She gave a light chuckle at that, then half-listened to him explain how he made poisoned arrows.

Stop worrying. He’ll be fine. He’s done things like this a thousand times before.

The rest of the camp, bar Bill, Micah and Sadie who were on watch duty, and Molly, who was sulking somewhere, gathered to eat together, Ada seating herself beside Hosea so they could continue discussing the book she was reading. If she went more in-depth than they usually did in her analysis then Hosea didn’t comment, more than happy to answer her questions and talk for nearly an hour.

Karen carrying a small crate and grunting from the weight of it finally brought their attention back to the group.

“Now... why don’t we have some fun of our own tonight?” the blonde woman grinned, placing the crate of what they quickly identified to be whisky down by her chair.

“Karen, where the hell did you get that from?” Tilly was the first to ask.

“Saloon in town gets deliveries every Thursday and I’m good at makin’ friends,” Karen answered proudly, looking very pleased with herself, “Now, we got plenty so drink up, everyone!”

As she handed bottles to Mary-Beth and Pearson to pass around, her gaze flicked up to Ada.

“C’mon, Annie, even you, have a little drink with us.”

Ada considered it for a second. “Fine, but just one.”

Having expected a little more resistance, so very much delighted, Karen beamed as she gave her a bottle. “That’s a girl, let’s have fun tonight!”

Yes, please let’s.

They all stayed around the main fire, some sharing bottles, the rest having their own. Ada continued her conversation with Hosea for a little while before Lenny sat on the other side of him and initiated a discussion about Saint Denis, his eyes wide as he told them of what he’d seen being sold at the markets and the people that had sold them.

Half a bottle in, Karen claimed they didn’t need Javier to provide music, slapping her hands against her thighs as she began a rowdy song that Uncle, Lenny and the other girls soon joined her in bellowing.

Hosea excused himself shortly after with a light smile, claiming his ‘old bones were demandin’ rest’. She watched him walk to the house, noting how stiff he seemed.

Despite everything, they really are just human.

She nearly snorted at herself.

What a romanticism.

She’d only been sipping at her own bottle of whisky, now actually a little used to the taste, but those sips had been adding up and a lightness had spread through her, an urge to just smile all the time lingering.

“Is this seat taken?”

Her head tipped back and her eyes rose to meet Dutch’s.

Oh.

“No, go ahead,” she replied, glad her smile for Hosea had remained in place.

Dutch returned it, taking Hosea’s vacated seat with a quiet groan as he settled down.

“How are you, Annie?” he asked, settling his hands on his knees. “We haven’t had a real chance to talk since that unfortunate incident with the O’Driscolls.”

“Which one,” she joked good-naturedly.

He chuckled. “Indeed. Are you all right, though?”

She nodded, holding her bottle against her chest. “I’m fine, thank you, really. This is a wonderful group of people to be with.”

Dutch cast his gaze around, his features softening. “That they are. I feel very lucky.”

“As do I.”

His eyes found her’s again. “And we are very lucky to have you in turn. I can’t tell you how appreciative I am of your work at the party. Those papers you found will help us immeasurably.”

Something in her chest twinged slightly. She shrugged her shoulders, wondering faintly how long she’d been smiling for. “Oh, well, I just want to help in any way I can.”

“And bringing Arthur back? Ridin’ out to Braithwaite Manor with us? Hell, defendin’ yourself against O’Driscolls before you came to us? You are a hell of a woman, Miss Sawyer.”

She laughed, quite bemused by her own achievements now they were grouped together. “Thank you very much, Dutch.”

He patted her knee gently, and it was in no way similar to how Micah had once lain his hand on her. “Don’t mention it. I like to give credit where credit is due.”

She couldn’t find the words to reply, her mind slower, so she just nodded, offering him her bottle a moment after.

“No, thank you,” he declined politely. “I think I shall be headin’ up. I’m too old for this now.”

She chuckled. “All right. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Annie.”

She watched him as she had Hosea, a gentle smile lingering.

How nice...

Oh, you fool.

Her smile fell as her chest twinged.

That had been it. That was how he brought people on board with his ideas; seduced them with kind words and charm, not as obviously as the villains she read about in all her books, but in a caring, gentle way... a way that had a person glowing at his good opinion.

You stupid, stupid fool. Remember yourself.

“Lord, bounty hunters can probably hear this racket from three states over.”

Sadie. Good.

Turning her head to the woman as she sat beside her, balancing her rifle against the log, Ada offered her the bottle.

“Drink with me.”

Sadie arched an eyebrow as she stretched her legs out. “Nah.”

Ada pressed her lips together. “Come on, I don’t intend to get drunk for the first time in my life on my own.”

“You got these fools to do that with.”

Ada tilted her head, trying to imitate how Jack looked when he wanted some of Mary-Beth’s secret candy stash. “But you’re my favourite fool, Sadie.”

Sadie snorted, a smile breaking out. “Well, when you put it that way, I’ll sure as hell join you.” Despite her sarcastic retort, she did indeed take the bottle and have a long sip, wincing with a slight hiss after she’d swallowed. “God damn... Y’know, I ain’t been drunk in a long time, either.” A faintly mischievous expression covered her features. “How about a drinkin’ game?”

“I’ve never played one,” Ada admitted, accepting the bottle back.

“All right...” Sadie pushed her braid over her shoulder as she sat up, glancing around before she nodded over Ada’s shoulder. “How about we see who can throw a rock in to that pot from a distance?”

Ada couldn’t stop a snort. “That sounds easy enough.”

Sadie just smiled. “If you don’t get it in, you got to take a shot of whisky.”

The auburn-haired woman rose to her feet, looking vaguely smug. “Well, I’ve got rather good aim so I certainly don’t think I’ll be getting drunk for the first time tonight.”

—

"... we are the boys of Wexford! Who fought with heart and hand, to burst in twain the galling chain, and free our native land!”

Ada grinned at Uncle as they threw their arms up into the air and continued, half-singing, half-yelling, “To burst in twain the galling chain, and free our native la-and~!”

The group broke out into whoops, claps and cheers even before they’d finished the extended note and Uncle finally dropped his hands and descended into a coughing fit whilst Ada, still beaming, flourished into a bow so low she had to take a step forward to stop herself from toppling over.

“Thank you s’ much!” she called out over their adoring audiences’ cheers as she straightened, now having to take a step back to steady herself. “Thank you, thank you!”

Her aim hadn’t been as good as she herself had believed. Stones had bounced off the pot, gone slightly over or under, and nowhere near it. Sadie, comfortingly, was only a little better so it hadn’t taken long for the bottle to be emptied, and nearly another one.

Falling down into her seat beside Sadie, she turned her head to the woman who beamed back.

“Jus’ wonderful, Annie, so good.”

“Annie, y—...” Her head swung to the side to look at Lenny to her right. “... You sing so good.”

“Oh, thank you, I jus’, I love singin’.”

“So do I, it’s so—”

“Look, they’re back!” Susan, who hadn’t had one drink, called out, pointing to the main path.

Bloodshot, squinting and glazed over eyes watched as Javier, Strauss, Trelawney and Arthur dismounted their horses, Kieran nearly tripping over his own feet to get to them.

Bill, who, after finishing his watch with Charles taking over, had quickly caught up with Karen where alcohol was concerned, stood, holding his arms out. “Gen’lemen! How was the misshon?”

“We’re still alive,” Arthur drawled, stroking Ophelia’s neck before he brushed the dust from the sleeves of his smart jacket.

“A success, I think,” Trelawney added positively, beaming at them all as they neared the group.

“Good! Come ‘nd celebrate with us, then.”

“Been havin’ your own little party, huh?” Arthur arched an eyebrow as he pushed his hands into his pockets, a smile beginning to form as he looked over all of them.

“Yeah, we though’ why should you have all the fun?” Lenny called out, drawing Arthur’s attention, and then his gaze landed on her.

Well, Miss Ada...

Ada grinned as the returning heroes settled amongst the group and Arthur moved behind them towards her, his smile widening.

“Hello.”

“Hullo,” she answered, her gaze sweeping over him and finally taking in his attire. He was in three-piece suit, one she preferred much more to the one he’d worn at the party, and his hair was shorter, neater, slicked back with pomade. His stubble was gone, too. Pushing herself up and stepping over the log to stand in front of him, she swayed a little as she folded her arms. “God, you look handsome. I mean, you always look handsome but I can see your face and it’s nice.”

Her hand went to his cheek, nearly involuntarily slapping him lightly with the unchecked momentum, caressing his smooth skin.

He chuckled, arching an eyebrow as he watched her, his hand settling on her lower back. “Josiah thought I better clean up to make a real impression.”

"An’ did you?”

“Yeah, I’d say I did.” The full story of their escapade could wait until the morning.

“Oh, good.” She’d continued to stroke his skin, her fingers finding their way to his neck, curling around to the nape.

“So, how’re you feelin’?” He tipped his head to the side slightly, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other. Her smile hadn’t dropped once.

“Wonderful.” She closed her eyes for a moment to emphasise her conclusion. “Absolutely wonderful. I feel like...” Her other hand clenched in mid-air slightly as she searched for the right words. “... I just feel good. It’s all fine.”

"That’s good.” His fingers gently stroked at her back, holding her against him.

“Yes, it is.” Her teeth grazed over her lower lip as mischievousness crossed her features, her voice lowering. “Not as good as you make me feel, though.”

“Miss Sawyer...” Imitating her scandalised tone from earlier, a wide grin spread across his lips.

“Oh, shut your mouth,” she whispered, grinning in delight at herself, “like you said, everybody knows.” As if to prove her newfound nonchalance at their relationship, her arms draped around his shoulders. “Karen’s been tryin’ to get details out of me but I haven’t said a word.” A yawn suddenly rose from her, her stream of thought changing. “Christ, I’m tired.”

“Mmh, well, we didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“No, we did not.”

Lord, she was... His own smile hadn’t faltered either.

“Come on, then, Miss Sawyer.” Sliding his arm around her waist as he turned, Arthur gently guided her towards the house, the rest of the camp too engrossed in listening to Josiah’s magnificent retelling of their mission to pay attention to them.

It was surprisingly easy, and quiet enough, to get her into the house and up the stairs, her body leaning against his as a few more yawns escaped her. Reaching the top, he glanced habitually through the hole in the wall to see Jack and Abigail sleeping. Ada did the same, smiling fondly; both of them had retired, unwillingly in Jack’s case, a couple of hours earlier.

Opening the door to his room, he finally released her, hearing her step away as he closed the door. When he turned back to her, he took a few moments to just watch, it only a little difficult in the dark.

She yawned again, releasing a soft sound with it, and placed her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. She started at the table covered in various kinds of ammunition, her nose wrinkling slightly, before she moved to the smaller table, gazing down at a map of the land he’d drawn out himself, a smile pulling at her lips, her finger tips brushing over his drawings. He thought he saw her mouth the names of a few places.

Then, she looked to him, clasping her hands behind her back as she smirked faintly.

“Are you goin’ to ravage me again, Mr Morgan?”

He smiled softly, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Not tonight, Miss Sawyer.”

“Are you sure?” she countered, arching an eyebrow as he unbuttoned his waistcoat, it joining the jacket.

He chuckled quietly, unbuttoning his dress shirt. “What did I say, Miss Adaline, insatiable...”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she murmured coyly as she kept her eyes on him.

Dropping the shirt onto the chair as he passed it, Arthur stopped before her and caught her chin between his fingers gently, tipping her head back and capturing her lips in a tender kiss. She hummed softly, her hands settling on his bare chest, sliding up to his shoulders a few moments after. His other arm wrapped around her waist, and he began to walk her backwards.

When the backs of her calves touched the side of the bed, she sank down and he leaned over, keeping his lips pressed to hers as her hands cupped his face. Then, he straightened, his hands sliding into his pockets as her’s fell into her lap, a smile pulling at his lips.

She caught on a moment later, her eyes narrowing.

“Mhm, seducin’ me into bed but not out of my clothes. Very clever, Mr Morgan, you really aren’t as dumb as they say.”

He chuckled as she lay back with a muttered grumble, rolling over to face the wall.

He so wanted to. Part of him felt like he needed to. To be back with her was... He hadn’t thought that the mission would go wrong, but it was the first time in a very, very long time that a quiet voice had whispered to him, ‘You have to survive this night’. Removing his shoes and running a hand through his hair to get rid of some of the pomade, he pushed the shoes aside and settled down on the bed behind her, his arm going around her as his chin rested on top of her head.

In order for both of them to fit, she had to be nestled perfectly against him, every inch of her pressed against him, and it was so comforting.

“This is smaller than the bed in Saint Denis,” she mumbled, her tiredness having caught up with her swiftly.

Yeah, it is,” he murmured, closing his eyes as his thumb brushed over her skin.

“Mmh... Cosier, though.”

“Yep.”

“Was this your plan all along?”

“My plan was to get you safe and horizontal before you fell over.”

She snorted. “How dare you, I have wond’ful balance.”

“Sure you do.”

She grumbled under her breath again, too tired to fully vocalise her retort, and he closed his eyes with a faint smile as, only a minute or so later, her breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep.

It felt... nice, to hold her. It wasn’t a grand enough expression for it but that’s what it was. It had gotten so familiar and so easy so fast and he didn’t mind at all. He didn’t want complicated. Christ, she was complicated enough on her own.

Stop thinkin’ too damn much.

His chin rested upon her head, his own eyes closing, and he just listened to her breathing, feeling the warmth of her.

—

He awoke the next morning in exactly the same position, hair in his mouth and an elbow digging into his ribs. Being very careful to move so as to not wake her, he glanced down at her. Nah, she was dead to the world, her mouth open, her breathing even. He could’ve fired a gun and she probably wouldn’t move. Smiling, he gently moved her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before he stood.

Stepping out of the open front doors and onto the porch, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up as he surveyed the camp. Everyone seemed rather sluggish, either from their revelry the night before or the heat of the morning. It was probably the warmest morning they’d had so far, he could already feel beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Maybe I do miss the snow a bit.

Stepping down onto the dirt, he headed for Pearson’s fire pit, seeking coffee.

God knows she’ll need it.

Sadie passed him and he grinned and nodded at her. She just grunted, feeling as bad as she looked. She already had coffee and was taking continuous sips of it. Shaking his head, he respected the small queue that had formed for the liquid of life and clasped his hands together.

“Good mornin’, Lenny!”

“Oh, don’t, Arthur...”

Sadie made her way onto the porch, her head pounding. Taking a seat, she sat back and closed her eyes, gripping her cup. A groan came from within the house, growing closer. Cracking an eye open, Sadie watched Annie step out, her features scrunched up, squinting and trying to shield her eyes from the brightness of the sun.

"Oh, God...” she heard her murmur.

“Hey,” Sadie greeted, her voice hoarse.

Turning her head slowly, Annie looked at her. “I feel like I’ve been hit over the head with several bricks.”

“Unfortunately, first time gettin’ drunk comes with first time feelin’ like you might actually die.”

Annie just groaned her agreement as she sat in a chair beside her, leaning back and closing her eyes, gripping the armrests. Sadie was delighted her friend didn’t feel like chatting. Though, when she felt more like a human being, they’d certainly have a lot to catch up on if camp rumours and plain observation was anything to go by.

“Mornin’, ladies.”

They both just made vague sounds as Arthur approached, a cup in each hand. Smiling, he gently touched Ada on the shoulder with a finger and handed her a cup when she opened her eyes. Mouthing her thanks, she sipped from it as Arthur leaned against the house, sliding a hand into his pocket.

“How was your night?” Sadie asked, her curiosity overcoming her throat’s desire for silence.

“Fine. Eventful.”

“Sounds like it was,” she snorted, then immediately regretted it as her head ached.

She was about to ask another question when Dutch appeared from within the darkness of the house, leaning out. “Arthur, if I could have you for a moment.”

Arthur nodded, looked at the two women to smile at them, found them both sitting back with their eyes closed and probably semi-conscious, and shook his head, smiling to himself as he followed after the older man.

“When you gonna let me come out robbin’ with you, Dutch?” Sadie called out, sipping from her coffee.

She heard Dutch laugh. “God, few more like her...” The rest of his response was lost as they moved further into the house.

The two women sat in silence, just drinking their coffee and waiting for it to work its magic. The usually peaceful sounds of nature, birds chirping and crickets trilling, were now just grating, and towards the back of the house they could hear Cain barking and Jack giggling. Sadie’s eyes cracked open again as the sounds grew louder, Jack chasing after Cain and coming round to the front.

Exhaling a long breath, she glanced at Annie, who could as well have been dead from how still she was.

“Maybe you and me should go out robbin’, I reckon we’d be just fine,” Ada heard Sadie say. Peeling her eyes open, she glanced at her, the throbbing in her head now slightly better.

“I think we would, too.” Oh, Lord, her voice sounded like she’d been yelling for hours. Which she had, nearly.

“If you could rob anythin’ righ’ now, what’d it be?”

Ada inhaled a slow breath, her eyebrows raising slightly. “Goodness, I’ve never thought about that before.”

“I ain’t sayin’ we’re gonna, just what would you pick if you had to.”

Ada scratched her head before leaning it against her hand, her elbow propped on the armrest. “Uh... Probably a house. I think it might be easy. There’d be different things to take, too, money, jewellery, guns.”

Sadie nodded, stretching her legs out, her hands on her stomach. “Yeah, that’s a good one. I think a train would be excitin’, too.”

“A lot to think about, though, and dangerous.” Ada found herself smiling, enjoying the image her mind created of them both holding up a whole train. Sadie could probably do it single-handedly.

“Yeah, but excitin’.”

Ada opened her mouth to respond when she felt Sadie pause in the same moment she did, looking up the main path.

“What the hell...” Sadie muttered.

Realisation dawned on them as Mary-Beth screamed.

“It’s Kieran!”

Kieran’s body, his decapitated head resting in his lap, sat astride his favourite horse, the horse walking idly down the main path. All anyone could do was stare, the scene not sinking in. And it didn’t have time to.

“Everybody take cover! O’Driscoll boys are comin’!” Dutch yelled from the balcony above a split second before men emerged from the bushes and began to fire.

Sadie and Ada lunged forward, their cups tumbling to the floor, using the columns before them as cover as people began shouting and barking orders to each other.

“Jack!” Ada heard Abigail scream and her heart dropped into her stomach as she looked out and saw the boy running past the fountain, terrified. She was about to surge towards him when John suddenly appeared, sweeping the boy up into his arms and racing forward, hiding them both behind the stacks of sandbags beside Charles who was firing back at the attacking men.

“Shit,” she hissed as her gaze darted across the porch. She’d come down without a weapon, a grave mistake.

Sadie had kept her’s beside her and was joining in the gunfight, cursing under her breath. All of them were firing back now and Ada, after counting to three, darted through the open doors behind her and grabbed the nearest gun, a Repeater, mercifully. Rejoining Sadie, she aimed and fired at the group of men. She couldn’t ascertain how many of them were there but for every one that was downed, another replaced him.

O’Driscolls. She should have known they’d come sooner or later.

“God damn O’Driscolls...” Sadie hissed, echoing her thoughts, but before she could respond Dutch was yelling again.

“Women and children inside! The rest of you, hold your ground!”

Then Arthur was suddenly there, ducking behind the column on the other side of the steps. “Get inside!” he shouted as Susan, Karen, Strauss, Tilly and Mary-Beth ran inside. Charles and Javier covering, John ran to Abigail, handing her Jack and pushing them towards the house. They made it inside as John returned to his post without looking back.

“Don’t let anyone back through that door!” Arthur shouted to her and Sadie, both of them nodding as they reloaded.

He ran to where John was and said something to him, before turning his head and saying something to Charles. He nodded and shouted to Javier. Arthur shouted something she couldn’t hear to Bill, Micah and Pearson. They all looked up, though, as a wagon came rolling down the path, filled with O’Driscolls.

“We’re overwhelmed!” she heard John shout as they all began to fall back towards the house.

“We’re overrun!” Charles shouted in the same moment.

“What in God’s name is goin’ on?!” Arthur yelled.

Ada and Sadie covered them as they retreated, her heart pounding. The O’Driscolls in turn were just moving closer, boldly. The men headed in to the house, then John, and Arthur looked to the two women.

“Come on, inside!”

“Everyone get inside!” she heard Charles shout from beside him.

They obeyed after a moment and Arthur and Charles followed them in, the last. As soon as they were all inside, he, John, Javier and Karen began to barricade the door, pushing and pulling the nearest furniture towards it.

“Everyone stay calm,” Dutch was saying as everyone kept low. The bullets from outside didn’t stop, and Ada heard a window in another room shatter. Once the door was barricaded, Dutch began to give instructions of posts they should go to. Waiting for her name, Ada then felt Sadie nudge her.

“Come on, this way,” she murmured, heading out of the room. Ada glanced at Dutch, who was too busy giving orders to notice them, and followed.

She followed her to the left, moving past Hosea’s room and out of the side door. A glance to her left showed her the O’Driscolls had some common sense and were keeping some distance. Fortunately, Sadie went right. Keeping low, they ran along the side of the house and—

“Watch out!” Sadie’s arm flinging out to halt her made her head whip up and she saw them.

More O’Driscolls. Coming from the south path. Coming from across the river. Firing. Making bullets fly over their heads and by her shoulder.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

Sadie surged forward.

—

What the fuck are they doin’ here and why are there so many of ‘em?

The last time the O’Driscolls had been this bold they’d kidnapped him and Ada. The time before that they’d killed Annabelle.

Was this it? The final battle between them? Why now, though, and how had they found out where they were?

Bronte.

It hit him like a fucking train.

Bronte must have spoken to him after the party, hell, Bronte more than likely knew they were staying here, but why cause all this? Something wasn’t adding up.

Ada.

Had Colm come just for her? Well, not just for her, but... Had the confirmation that she was still with the Van der Linde Gang been too much of an insult?

“Is everyone accounted for?” he called to John a few feet away, both of them firing out of windows.

“I think so,” John answered, distracted and for good reason; the men didn’t seem to stop coming.

“Sadie? Annie?” Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard Dutch say their names to give them instructions.

John just shrugged.

Pressing his lips together, Arthur moved to the window to his right, breaking it and firing out. An O’Driscoll was yelling something taunting and he swiftly silenced him, when he heard a scream.

Not of pain. Of fury.

His jaw clenching, he called to John, ”That’s Mrs Adler, she’s still out there!”

Knowing John would cover him, the men finally starting to thin out, he leapt out of the window and crouched at the railing. The cry had come from somewhere behind the shack before him, obscured. With his gang members firing at the remaining men behind him, Arthur leapt over the railing and ran. He could hear grunts of pain and Sadie yelling.

“Who the fuck’s this lady?!” he heard a man demand before there was another grunt and what sounded like a body falling to the floor. Rounding the shack, his breath caught in his throat.

Sadie was throttling a man, her features twisted in rage as she yelled savagely. The man’s eyes were wide as he clawed at her arms but she was driving him back, shoving him against the shack before he could recover enough to do something. Ada was stood with her back to them, firing at anyone approaching, protecting her friend. Her features were tight, and she never missed.

Sadie released another wild sound and drove a knife into the man’s neck. Neither he nor Arthur had seen where she’d procured it from. The man, his eyes bulging, fell to his knees, but Sadie just fell with him and struck him again, and again, and again, plunging the knife into his chest, throat, stomach. Then she wrenched it out and stood, breathing heavily.

Arthur looked between them as Sadie stood over him, blood on her face and clothes, and Ada shot the last two men approaching.

“Why the hell didn’t you both get inside?!”

“And miss all this?” Sadie drawled, glancing at him as she searched the man’s body for anything useful.

Before he could respond, Sadie had turned and was jogging away. “Come on, you two!”

He caught Ada’s eye and she pressed her lips together. They both followed.

“Now we go back!” Arthur called after her. “We need you both back in the house!”

Ada’s gun firing drew his attention and he joined her, shooting the men that approached from a boat on the river.

How the hell do they know how to get to us?

“Get down!” Ada yelled and he ducked as bullets from the right flew over their heads. More men.

Ada was behind a large crate, he dove behind a tree and Sadie... Sadie was damn near out in the open, hurling insults and calls as she fired. Her head whipping to the side as they finished dealing with the oncoming men, she then ran towards the house.

“Come on, they need us!”

He heard Ada hiss out something but she rose and ran after Sadie. He reloaded as he followed. O’Driscolls had circled the back of the house and were trying to get in, but John was still firing from within and doing a damn good job, as were Karen and Abigail from the upper level. With Sadie’s, Arthur’s and Ada’s help, the men didn’t stand much of a chance.

They had got the upper-hand. Damned if he knew how, but they had.

Maybe Sadie and Ada’s jaunt back here weren’t such a bad idea after all.

“Die, why don’t ya,” he heard Sadie say as they neared the house, her casual tone sending a slight chill down his spine.

I hope I never piss her off.

He ran ahead of Ada, wanting to advance on the men and see how the others were doing towards the front. Then, the side door burst open from the force of two men tangled in a fight and he raised his gun. Luckily, it was Charles who had the advantage. Arthur passed him as he plunged his knife into the man’s neck. Two men appeared suddenly from around the front of the house and he shot them, or believed he had at least; Ada was beside him once more, firing.

“Follow me!” he heard Dutch say from somewhere as Charles and Sadie joined them.

“Come on, Charles!” Sadie said, racing ahead.

At the top of the main path there were a group of men, using a wagon as cover. They joined Sadie at the sandbags. He fired and fired until he needed to reload, but he needn’t have bothered, really; Sadie and Charles were doing a fine job and from the silence behind him these seemed to be the last of them.

There was silence to his right, too. Glancing at Ada, he found her just crouched there, holding her gun at her side, her eyes darting between the remaining men.

A bullet passed over his head and he returned his attention to the priority. Firing at the three men left, watching them fall from one or all of their bullets, there was then no one else. They all paused. Waited.

Rising, Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Cowards!” Dutch spat from behind him and they all stood, keeping a grip on their weapons.

“We okay?” Hosea asked, stepping down from the front porch, sounding a little out of breath.

“I think so,” Dutch answered, looking between everyone for confirmation as they regrouped. Then, he looked down at one of the bodies on the floor. “... ‘cept for Kieran here.” He shook his head. “Poor kid. Mr Swanson, would you take this boy and bury him, someplace near but not too near.”

Arthur felt someone at his side, and he glanced at Ada again. She was looking at the decapitated body, expressionless.

“Of course,” Swanson was saying, rather dazed, “Charles, help me with the body.”

“We need to get this place cleaned up,” Hosea said as he lifted the boy’s head. “Mr Pearson, Miss Grimshaw—”

“Already taking care of it!” Susan called, before directing a pale Mary-Beth and a weary Tilly to the side of the house. “Come on now, work!” she added to the rest of them.

Everyone moved, picking up the nearest bodies to them, dragging them somewhere. They’d done this before.

Ada stood for a moment, then turned sharply on her heel and followed after Susan. Arthur inhaled a breath, watching her, then moved closer to Dutch who was shaking his head as he surveyed the carnage with John.

“Colm O’Driscoll...”

“That man can really hate,” Arthur muttered, the only reason for this he was sure on.

“So can I, Arthur,” the older man said, looking to him. “So can I. We need to get movin’. Away from here.”

“So we should start lookin’ for another camp?”

“You ain’t thinkin’ big enough, Arthur,” Dutch said, “You ain’t seein’ the vastness of our problems, and our opportunities.”

“I’m not sure I get you.”

“You will, son. You will.” Dutch patted his shoulder as he smiled. “Meet me near the trolley station once this has been cleared up, and bring Lenny!”

He watched him walk away, heading for his horse. John blew out a breath. Looking at him, Arthur then glanced at a body near them and raised his hand.

“Shall we?”

John sighed.

“Yep.”

—

After she’d asked, Susan had told her they’d collect all the bodies together and then dump them in the swamp for the alligators. Good. That gave her some time.

She didn’t recognise any of them, but... how could she know what Thomas would look like now? One had black hair and green eyes, but didn’t have curly hair, but maybe his curls would have gone with age. He’d be 29 now, he could have changed so much.

If he even is fucking alive.

She looked to Sadie, who was searching the body of the man they’d just carried over to the growing pile, drenched in blood from how close she’d been to the men she’d killed. She’d practically been pressed against them, had probably felt the life leave them. Probably revelled in it. Should that be how she should be behaving? An unstoppable force in her want for revenge against O’Driscolls, in her search for the truth about Thomas?

“You want this?”

Pulled from her thoughts, she found Sadie offering her a gold pocket watch. “I got three.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” She pocketed it.

Maybe I could sell it and buy passage to the other side of the world.

Licking her lips as Sadie stood, she smiled lightly. “So... How’s about a warning next time, huh, Black Belle? Before you leap into action.”

Sadie laughed, sliding another ring she’d taken a shine to onto her finger. A trophy. “Ah, you did more than all right, lady.”

A familiar sharpness twisted at her stomach as she watched Sadie walk away to retrieve another body, smiling, wiping the blood from her face.

Should that be how I am.

Arthur smiled as he saw Sadie, having come from the other side of the house.

“Easy, killer,” she heard him say to her, raising his hands slightly.

Sadie laughed again. “That’s rich from you.”

“Oh, I ain’t tryna rile you, believe me.”

Sadie’s cackle carried on the wind as she disappeared from view, and Arthur met her gaze. His smile softened.

"You okay?” he asked as he neared, his hand settling on her arm gently.

She returned his smile. “Yeah. You?”

His brows raised for a moment as he nodded. “Fine, somehow.” His thumb stroked lightly. “I gotta go and see Dutch in town, look at this trolley thing he’s worked out—”

“Now?” She frowned.

“Yeah...” He paused for a moment, then smiled. “I won’t be long. I’ll see you after.”

She managed a smile, folding her arms. “Okay.”

Ah, shit... There’s gonna be a conversation later.

“You did good today,” he murmured, squeezing her arm lightly.

“So did you.” Then she added, a corner of her mouth lifting a little, “Thank you for not dying.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Likewise.”

Lowering his head, he pressed a brief, firm kiss to her lips before turning and leaving.

Her smile faded as she watched him go, then her eyes dropped to the corpse Bill had just dragged over.

Searching.

—

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