#molly ringworm
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Just Do It
Examine your scalp for ringworm
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Hello! Could I possibly request something with a lovesick Eddie trying to win over the reader? He’s watched and studied rom-coms with Dustin to get his plan in action doing the basics of walking her to class, carrying her books, complimenting her, etc. but it typically ends with him inadvertently embarrassing himself. Super fluffy ending though!
This is adorable and I loved writing it <3
Warnings: angst-to-fluff, some language, spoilers for 80s movies
WC: 2.4k
Divider credit: @firefly-graphics
“You coming to Hellfire today?” Eddie asks you, munching on a pretzel. You weren’t an official member, but you like sitting in and watching campaigns, sometimes secretly helping the freshmen defeat their sadistic Dungeon Master.
You shake your head. “Sorry, Eds,” you shrug apologetically, “Robin, Nancy, and I are gonna catch a movie.”
His eyes widen and he grins excitedly. “Oh, shit! Which one? Eliminators?”
The prospect of the three of you watching an over-the-top sci-fi movie–without Eddie or Dustin nagging you–sends you into a fit of laughter. “Uh, no,” you manage between giggles. “We’re seeing Pretty in Pink.”
Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Isn’t that, like, a chick flick?”
“Yes, and we are chicks,” you say slowly, enunciating each word like it’s a novel concept for him. “Why, did you wanna join?”
Eddie would watch paint dry if it meant spending time with you, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he rolls his eyes. “Not a chance,” he scoffs. “You girls enjoy your Molly Ringworm.”
“It’s Ringwald, dingus,” you retort, borrowing Robin’s favorite insult for the occasion. “And we will. It’s nice to pretend that guys can actually care about a girl beyond getting in her pants.”
He’s about to ask you if you lump him into that category when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike plop their trays onto the table. They’re chatting excitedly about the upcoming campaign, a conversation Eddie usually never shuts up about, but the older boy is uncharacteristically quiet.
“Hey, Y/N,” Nancy taps you on the shoulder with a smile. “Robs and I were just about to finalize our plans for tonight, if you wanna sit with us.”
You nod enthusiastically, eager to leave the table now that the topic has switched to which cheerleaders are the easiest. “See you perverts on Monday!” you call out behind you, walking side by side with Nancy.
“Hey, sheep,” Eddie interrupts their riveting conversation suddenly. “Do I give off ‘douchebag’ vibes? Like, ‘only being nice to chicks for sex’ vibes?”
“If you are, it’s not working very well,” Mike snorts, only to have a pretzel lobbed at his head.
Dustin, however, is more perceptive to Eddie’s concerns. “Did something happen with Y/N?” he asks, glancing over at you.
“Don’t stare at her!” Eddie hisses, pressing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation. How do these two have girlfriends and I don’t? he wonders silently. “She mentioned something about liking chick flicks because that’s the only time guys treat girls nicely without trying to sleep with them.”
“Okay, and…?” Mike responds, earning him another pretzel to the head. This one lands in his mop of hair.
“And, what if she thinks that’s the only reason I’m nice to her?”
“To be fair,” Lucas pipes up between bites of pizza, “you do wanna sleep with her.” He quickly joins Mike as one of Eddie’s snack throwing targets. “Dude, you’re not gonna have any pretzels left if you keep chucking them at us!”
“Can someone just answer my question?” Eddie growls, standing up and pacing around the table. “Because if I’m gonna ask her out–”
“Not gonna happen,” Dustin mumbles under his breath. Eddie glares at him. “What? You’ve been saying that you’re gonna ask her out for ages now, but you never do!”
“Well, now I’m not, if she thinks I’m just some creep,” the metalhead grumbles. “I’d have to be one of those corny idiots from those movies for her to take me seriously.”
Dustin slams his hands on the table, startling everyone. “So be one of those corny idiots!” he exclaims. “Do you think I wanna sing The Neverending Story every time I talk to Suzie? No, I do not. But I do it because it makes her feel special and loved.”
“How would I even do that?” Eddie throws his hands up in frustration. “I’ve never watched any of those dumb movies.”
Dustin’s grin spans his entire face. “Oh, don’t you worry, my friend,” he says. “I’ve got a secret weapon.”
Turns out, Dustin’s secret weapon is Steve Harrington. More specifically, using him to check out as many romantic comedies as the boy can carry, completely ignoring the three movie maximum policy.
“Okay,” Dustin begins, pushing his way into Eddie’s trailer. “We’ve got The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Footloose, Terms of Endearment, and Y/N’s favorite, Grease.” He plops the video cassettes onto the table with a thwack.
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie buries his head in his hands. “What did I get myself into?”
“You can thank me later when you finally have a girlfriend,” Dustin retorts, ignoring his friend’s mild irritation. “Now, where should we start?”
By Monday morning, Eddie’s brain is buzzing with ideas to be the perfect rom-com boyfriend. He waits for you at your locker before first period, leaning up against it as you approach.
“How was your movie night with the girls?” He remembers Dustin’s advice to ask you questions about yourself, rather than launching into another story about his DnD campaigns.
“Good…” You eye him suspiciously. “Is there a reason why you’re blocking me from opening my locker?”
“Oh, shit, sorry,” he sputters, jumping back and smacking into another student passing by. “Son of a–”
You grab your math textbook from the top shelf, rolling your eyes at his antics. “Well, nice talking to you.” You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but it’s weirding you out.
“Wait!” he calls out, and you turn back around slowly.
“What is it?” you ask crossly, “I’m gonna be late for class.”
Eddie rubs the nape of his neck with his palm, unable to make eye contact with you. “Jus’ wanted to say that you’re pretty…” When you don’t reply within a nanosecond, he starts stumbling over his words. “Pretty nice, and stuff. No, just pretty. You’re pretty. N-not that you’re not nice, b’cause you are; you’re, like, really nice. But you’re also pretty. So, yeah. You’re pretty.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. “Are you okay?” What you really want to ask is, is this some kind of prank?
Eddie nods, fidgeting with the frayed edges of his denim jacket. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Are you, uh, okay?”
“Mhmmm,” you stretch out your response, backing away. “I’m gonna head to math before I get detention.”
What the hell was that? You wonder incredulously. The only time you’ve ever witnessed him being so tongue-tied was when he was paired with Chrissy Cunningham on a science project. But he was hopelessly in love with her; you were just his best friend. You’d have to ask one of the Hellfire freshmen what was going on. Maybe they’d have some insight.
You don’t get a chance to talk to Dustin, Mike, or Lucas before Eddie’s trying out his next move. He’s at your locker again between third and fourth period, desperate to redeem himself after his flustered performance this morning.
“Lemme walk you to class,” he blurts out.
“Eddie,” you laugh, “we have the same class now. You’d know this if you bothered to show up.”
“Oh. Right.” Actually, he has been showing up, partially because of his determination to graduate, but mostly because you’re there. “Then, can I carry your books for you?” He reaches for your composition book and pencil case before you have the chance to answer, and you pull away from him.
“Are you gonna throw my stuff in the trash or something?” You warily cock your eyebrow.
“No!” He seems genuinely confused and slightly offended at your assumption. “Why would I do that?”
“I dunno,” you shrug. “Why else would you do nice things for me?”
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “So that’s what you think of me, huh?” His eyes mist over, so angry that he’s about to cry. “Just another dumb guy who’s either trying to fuck you or fuck you over?”
“What are you talk—“ you start, but he cuts you off.
“Forget it,” he mutters under his breath, walking in the opposite direction. “Told Henderson this was a stupid idea.”
“Where are you going?” you call after him. “Class is the other way.”
“‘M ditching!” Eddie retorts, pulling out a cigarette and lighting in before he even reaches the doors.
You’re sitting in your room, highlighting and writing in the margins of the tattered copy of The Grapes of Wrath you’ve been assigned for English class. You can barely concentrate, though; your mind is consumed with thoughts of Eddie’s string of bizarre behavior.
The compliments, offering to walk you to class, trying to carry your books—what was that all about?
You vaguely remember him mentioning something about Dustin; the two of them were thick as thieves and basically attached at the hip. Eddie was the older brother Dustin never had. If anyone knows what was going on with him, it’s Dustin Henderson.
“Hello?” Dustin’s bored voice comes through the receiver, probably expecting the call to be for his mom.
“Hey, Dustin. It’s Y/N,” you begin nervously. “Do you have a sec to talk about Eddie?”
“Um, yeah,” he replies, caution evident in his tone. “He seemed really upset at lunch today. Did something happen?”
You exhale, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “That’s what I was calling about. He was being super weird this morning, and then he got mad at me, like, out of nowhere.”
“Weird…how?”
Starting at the beginning, you recall everything that occurred, emphasizing the babbling that was supposed to constitute a compliment and his explosion when you didn’t let him hold your books. “He’s always playing little jokes on me; what was I supposed to think?” you finish.
“Aw, shit,” Dustin muses. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but—“
“Please,” you beg him, “I just need to know what I did wrong.”
“No, it’s not something you did—well, maybe, kinda—but not on purpose,” he explains. “On Friday, when you told him about seeing Pretty in Pink, did you say something about guys in chick flicks being better than actual guys because they want more than just sex?”
“Yeah…” you say, confused. “What does this have to do with Eddie?”
“I’m getting to that part, jeez!” Dustin quips, and you roll your eyes at his attitude. “Well, when you said that, Eddie got all worried that you felt that way about him.”
“Of course I don’t!” you reply incredulously. “He’s…he’s Eddie! I know he would never use me for sex.”
Dustin presses on. “He didn’t realize that. So we watched those stupid movies all weekend, just so he could learn how you want a guy to show interest in you.”
Oh. Oh.
“Because Eddie…” you trail off, your mouth going dry.
“Yeah, the dude’s, like, in love with you.” Dustin spells it out. “He tries to act like nothing bothers him, but he really cares about what you think of him.”
“Shit,” you murmur. “I mean, thanks, Dustin. I’m gonna go fix this.”
“Any time,” he replies, then quickly adds, “don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll give me wedgies for the rest of my life!”
You knock on the Munson trailer door. Wayne’s already left for his night shift at the plant, and you hear the sounds of Eddie’s guitar, so you know he’s home.
“Who is it?” he calls from his room, still strumming.
“It’s me,” you answer, hoping he’ll let you in. “And I come bearing gifts.”
The guitar playing stops, and you breathe a sigh of relief when his heavy footsteps come closer.
“‘S not my birthday,” he narrows his eyes at the treat in your hand.
“I know. I wanted to recreate the ending scene in Sixteen Candles where Jake Ryan goes over to Sam’s house, but a whole cake was too expensive.” You smile warmly at him. “I hope a cupcake will suffice.”
Eddie returns your grin, leaning against the doorframe. “Depends. What flavor is it?”
“Chocolate cake, chocolate frosting.” It’s his favorite; the man has a mean sweet tooth. “Eddie, I’m sorry that I accused you of having some sort of ulterior motive for being nice to me. But when I said that stuff on Friday—about guys using girls—I wasn’t talking about you,” you tell him. “I was thinking about the Jason Carvers of the world, not the Eddie Munsons.”
He takes a big bite of cupcake. “Apology accepted,” he says, mouth still full. He swallows before speaking again. “How did you know that’s why I was upset?”
“Psychic powers,” you tease. “And a certain meddling, curly-haired nerd who just wants you to be happy.”
“Dammit, Henderson!” Eddie groans. “Little shit can never keep a secret—“
You interrupt him, pressing your lips to his chocolate-covered ones. The kiss doesn’t last long because the two of you can’t stop smiling.
“That’s for calling me pretty,” you tell him. “At least, I think that’s what you said; you kinda rambled on there for awhile.”
Now it’s Eddie’s turn to cut you off. “Then let me make it clear,” he says softly, running his thumb over your jawline. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He places a kiss on your forehead, and you feel yourself melt.
“No more trying to be some corny movie character,” you instruct him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I like you just as you are, Eddie Munson.”
He laughs. “Got it, boss.” He twitches his nose. “Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to do.” When you look at him quizzically, he continues. “You know that part in The Breakfast Club, where Bender gives Claire his earring?”
“Yeah?”
“Well,” Eddie says shyly, “I don’t have an earring, but I do have this.” He pulls his thin black ring off of his finger and holds it up. “Prob’ly be too big on you, but maybe you could wear it on a chain? And you could be my girlfriend, if you want?”
You press on your tiptoes, pecking another kiss on his lips. “Yes, Eds. To both questions.”
He throws his fist in the air á la Judd Nelson as he kisses you back, making you cackle with laughter.
“I can’t believe you actually watched that movie,” you tease.
He shakes his head, as though he can’t believe it himself. “‘S all right,” he says. “You can make it up to me by seeing Eliminators on our first date.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
~
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#eddie stranger things#stranger things#requests
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When you get to meet a cool band you have to take a group pic by the splat wall!
The band name is Molly Ringworm.
🖌️
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@mollyringding
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#NewMilfordct
#bandpic #artcenter #ArtisAHugForYourBrain #nonprofit
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Community lives so ingrained in my head that I can't see Molly Ringworm without calling her that
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now whos voting molly ringworm when theres a perfectly good penguin right there 🤨
not sure what you're talking about, that's not a penguin, she's an extremely normal, very short high schooler
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Early March 2023
This is a picture of a fire that was lit by someone at a punk show on a Friday night in the drainage tunnels next to Austin High School and under Mopac.
My friends and I look forward to going to these tri-weekly punk and metal concerts to watch, listen, and talk to all the offbeat, spikey, studded, people that the tunnels attract. What's even more entertaining is taking a step back from the dense and violent mosh pit that surrounds the band "Facist Peach Cobler", "HummusEater512", "Molly Ringworm", or "Heroin Babies" and watching all the extensive scenes of hazard and bizarreness evolve. It feels like being in a chaotic "Where's Waldo?" page, where you try to find an old guy covered in tattoos holding a chihuahua fitted with a spiked leather jacket, or someone getting their nose crudely pierced with a sewing needle and a cold can.
Usually, the scenes are pretty minor but this time it was a bit more major. We had been watching someone on top of the tunnels crouched and facing away from the crowd, fiddling with a pile of wood and cloth. All of a sudden a giant fireball erupted and the arsonist scurried off. The crowd's tone turned into a concerned but amused muffle and the band stuttered and fell out of rhythm for a bit but continued playing in true misfit fashion. The pierced and painted punks playing with the hellish fireball above their heads, casting long shadows in front of them looked like something out of a movie and made the metal setting ten times more metal.
Then the fireball slowly rolled forward and started to drip over the tunnel and onto the band. They frantically got out of the way and dragged their amps and gear out of the fireball's shower. Someone ran up the side of the tunnel and tried extinguishing the fire with a water bottle but it didn't do a thing. More and more people climbed up the sides of the tunnels and they all started kicking and stomping on it and it was eventually put out. Everyone cheered for the tattoed firefighters, the raucous music soon resumed, and everything was back to organized disorder.
This is a picture of a show at the Montopolis Bridge off of 183 and over the Colorado River. It's in a super neat location on this old historic bridge built in 1938 that was used to connect the Montopolis community and East Austin. It looks and feels especially awesome at night when the music bounces off the water and against the bottom of the bridge and makes the music sound really dreamy and surreal.
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Mary.... margaret..... molly ringworm.
You broke me.
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I watched The Breakfast Club this morning and-- you know the part where everyone starts dancing and "We Are Not Alone" is playing in the background (I'm making that my ringtone btw)?
Well, I thought about that scene again, and then I thought about the fact that Jeff danced like Claire (molly ringworm just look for the clip of Jeff and I getting drunk on YouTube for context, for those of you who have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about) and I'M KJSDJFFLDGJL I have that image stuck in my head now and I can't stop laughing.
kkdjd Honestly though, the entire sequence of our homage to Breakfast Club (and the painful aftermath) lives rent free in my head, if anything I'm paying it to live there.
Anyway, I just wanted to share that.
- Abed Nadir (Community)
'
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City.
Hot thick air
Full of flavours from food
A juxtaposition of ruins
And high rise homes
Business suits
And broken old shoes
Hundreds of lives in a postcode.
A girl is dreaming.
Churches, chain stores,
Temples, trees
Libraries and lamposts
Pubs, parking
mosques and markets.
Graffiti marks the places
People want to be heard
Soup kitchens serve scran
Languages loud and lively
Sirens cry over the hum of engines
Round ring roads and ringworm fences
Horses and fields on the outskirts
A collision of lives and stories
Molly Smith
@birdsarekiteswithoutstrings
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Abed Nadir- Community
“Abed from the show Community has autism.“ Was submitted by @potc4life. Which he very much is. This has been sitting in my asks for a few months because I had no clue who this was and I didn’t know it was Netflix. Abed is this little guy. This might get a part two as I watch more of the show with my sister.
I’m only on season two and Netflix has six seasons, so I don’t know if things with this character change drastically- though I expect not. So, into reasons why/how Abed has Autism.
Characters in the show (mainly Jeff) have hinted strongly at him having it. They’ve almost said a few times, but stop themselves every time.
He has a new show/movie fixation every episode.
MASH
The Breakfast Club
“I can’t remember the name of that girl from Breakfast Club. Mary. Margo. Molly Ringworm. Your broke me.”
“I was kinda raised by TV.”
“Movie reference.”
“It’s TV; it’s comfort.”
“I can only connect with people through...movies.”
Friends
“Wow. I didn’t realize we were really goods friends. I figured we were more like Chandler and Phoebe. They never really had stories together.”
“Which is why- and hear this on every level- you’re keeping us from being Friends.”
He stims a lot. It’s not always on camera and you have to look for it sometimes- he’s amazing at masking- but it’s there.
Doesn’t pick up on the awkwardness the rest of the group does.
Doesn’t understand tone and relies on other tells for emotions.
“Your mouth isn’t curves upwards. Did I misread something?”
Jeff: Is that really a sitcom staple? Abed: No, I have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m Abed; I never watch TV
He’s brutally honest all the time. Someone will ask the group something, everyone lies about it at the same time and Abed’s the one to tell the truth.
He’s not great with social interactions. The gif above is an example of this. The group was trying to set him up with a girl but they said he was weird so they needed to “change” himself so he was more “likable”. This was the other “version” of himself that he deemed a vampire.
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Ménage (2/13ish)
SWF, backstory, personal hurts, connection
He listened to Molly move through her kitchen, hoping to hear her talk to herself for some more info on her. That wasn't eavesdropping, not really, he told himself; she knew he was there. But she was quiet, and quickly returned with another glass, sinking down beside him again.
He accepted the refill of this not-pink-at-all-drink, raised it properly in a toast, and liked very much that she took his hand as she settled in this time.
"So, you sound like you have a lot of experience with celestials. Is it just angels? What are they like?"
"Celestials?" he asked. "You really wanna hear about them? Pompous, jealous, dickwads? It's not just angels, either . . . anything that didn't turn away from the Light calls itself a celestial, and they're all busy jerking off to their own superiority. Sometimes they like to try and herd lesser beings back to what they think is the Way. Gets 'em brownie points or some horseshit."
He took a swig.
"Is that what you were hoping to call here?" he asked, barely keeping the distain out of his voice. "They're like Jehovah's Witnesses or fucking ringworm -- you can't get rid of them once they're here."
He extracted his hand from hers and drew his blackened fingernails through her palm and to her wrist.
"I think you'll find getting me was a much better choice, baby."
Rapt, she listened, her thumb idly brushing the side of his hand; his disdain was easy to perceive, but she was fascinated nonetheless. How many humans got an opportunity like this, to hear about the afterlife, to know even tiny details about the ever-looming What Comes Next?
"You know, I don't doubt you. I'm not exactly the religious type anyway."
The scrape of his blunt, dark nails across her palm to the delicate inner face of her wrist made her heart stutter in her chest, and goosebumps immediately raised on her arm all the way up to her shoulder. Oh. That had felt far too good.
She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks again, wondering how many times this ghost had made her blush in the half hour or so he'd been in her home. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. She flipped her hand over, lying it palm up on her knee, and took a long sip of her drink, draining half in one swallow.
"Do that again?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, half a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
"This, baby?" he asked to confirm, even as he repeated the motion, first and second fingers circling in her palm, following the creases there like he was divining before dragging them to her wrist and the soft skin of her inner arm. He pulled his fingers backwards to her hand and did it again.
Without permission but with the same smirk on his face, his fingers skipped from her arm to her thigh. They were even lighter there, dragging slowly upward, even as he watched for her reaction.
If his smile wasn't enough to make her heart begin to race, the slow, deliberate drag of his fingertips across her palm certainly did the trick. There were calluses on her fingers from working in her gardens, but her palms remained soft, sensitive, and she couldn't help pinching her lower lip between her teeth to hold back a sigh. Who knew such a simple touch could have such a physical effect on her?
When his fingers migrated to her thigh, bare beneath a thin pair of cotton pajama shorts, she couldn't keep a soft moan back, shivering at the more intimate touch, sliding slowly inward. This . . . oh, it was nice but she couldn't . . . he needed to know what he would be signing up for.
"Hey," she whispered, placing her hand over his to still his progress. "This . . . look, I like you touching me. I like it a lot. But if you . . . if you want more . . . there's a few things you should know about me first."
She sighed, feeling embarrassment and anxiety creeping icy tendrils around her ribcage. "I don't . . . I . . . um, I haven’t done this. I haven't even been kissed. This is all fresh territory for me, and there's a really big reason why."
At the hesitation in her voice and her physically stopping his hand, he cocked his head. She had let the softest moan ever escape. There was the faintest tremble to the fingers atop his. Her breath had come more quickly, and that same pretty blush had darkened her cheeks again.
He didn't want to care about her reason; she was responsive and just the fact she'd called him was arousing. He sported a bit of a tent pole behind his fly, but he wasn't all demon. He knew pain. He'd caused pain gladly, sometimes. But Molly, this woman who may had inadvertently summoned him hadn't immediately banished him, so he wasn't going to do that to her.
So he stopped.
"Everyone starts somewhere, baby," he told her, hoping it sounded more philosophical and less smarmy, and then he waited.
She was grateful that he stopped, that he didnt press his hand forward, only cocked his head in response. He even spoke gently, assuring her that everyone started somewhere, and she was grateful for that too.
"I know. If it was just the virginity thing, your hand would already be in my shorts. I wouldn’t have stopped you just for that." She took a deep breath, let it out, realizing just how long it had been since she had spoken to another person about this.
"I . . . I lost my whole family when I was fifteen. All of them. My older sister was graduating high school and my parents threw a huge party for her. Everyone came, aunts, grandparents, cousins. Everyone. I was being a shitty teenager and didn't figure they'd miss me, so I took a walk, just wanting to be away from so many people asking if I was gonna graduate valedictorian like my sister. And . . . well, I grew up in a small town in the rural midwest, which means half the town made cooking meth their day job. Our neighbors happened to be cooking that day and it...went wrong. The explosion took out half the block, including the house behind it. My house." She paused. She could get through this. "No one got out but me.
"After that, it was foster homes until I could legally be on my own. I had a small fortune in inheritance, since I was the only living relative of anyone with a will. I got a shitty apartment and stewed in a delicious mix of PTSD and survivor's guilt until I turned twenty and started putting my life back together. Got my GED and a BA in journalism. Even got a girlfriend."
A short smile curled on her mouth, but it was joyless.
"Met on an online literary forum. She lived two states away, so we were long distance for a year. She was gonna drive down to spend Christmas with me, and her car . . . hit some black ice. She was killed on impact. She was still in the closet back at home, so I only found out because her best friend found my Facebook. I couldn't even go to her funeral."
"After that, I . . .I just couldn't do it. Everyone I ever loved had died, and not peacefully. I couldn't let myself be around people. I felt cursed. I still feel cursed. I bought this house and I . . . I don't leave it. That's why you're the first person I've spoken to face to face in nearly two years." Her head hung, ashamed at her own weakness, thoughts dark with the horrible memories she has dredged up from the murk.
"Still think I'm worth the trouble?"
Oh, he had some stories about his past that would rival hers, but this wasn't the time or place for one-upmanship. He could bitterly tell her that shitty things happen to everyone, and that's life: just a series of falling down to claw yourself back up again, over and over. You did it or you didn’t, and no one’s path was the right one for anybody else.
But the deep pain he’d experienced that should’ve made him calloused and sour wasn’t quite there. Hers was different, nothing like his, and that didn’t make the deep-seated anger flare.
“So you thought calling up a spirit would give you some companionship,” he said. It was a statement, not a question. His voice dropped. “And you got me instead.”
Slowly, his fingers curled in on themselves, towards his own palm, until he was no longer touching her. Gently he extracted his hand out from under hers.
He tried to chuckle, but it came out a little strained. “Second best again.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze flicked downward, away from her for a moment, until he collected himself. When he did, straightening and leaving his hand on his own knee, he was able to look at her again.
“Tell me again what you wanted from the spirit you were trying to call up. I’m no good at conversation, I cheat at cards and Monopoly, I’ve eaten my fair share of puzzle pieces. TV is okay, so long as it’s reruns of the Jerry Springer Show. I’m not really suited for the quiet life that it seems like you’ve got going here--I’m more an inappropriately physical specter, if you hadn’t noticed.
“I’ve liked being here, baby, and the drinks were nice, but you might be better sending me on my way and trying your ritual again.”
For a moment, though his eyes were downcast and his posture already shrinking back from her, Molly could see something in his eyes. Something fractured and irreparable. Raw and pained on a level she couldn't possibly begin to fathom. Then the veil dropped, the veneer smoothly tugged back into place, his voice carefully measured and cold.
"What?" It was her turn to cock her head, brow furrowing. "I don't understand, second best to who? I called a spirit and you answered. Haven't I said more than once that I'm happy you're here?"
Reining herself in before her voice got too shrill, Molly took a deep breath.
"Just like I wasn't sure what kind of spirit would answer, I wasn't sure what I'd want if they did. Different spirits have different rules." She bit harshly at her lip, tugging threads of skin loose until the spot began to bleed. "I hoped maybe we could figure it out together, but I guess I just ruined that. I want you to stay, Beej, but I won't make you. Everyone else left, so I shouldn't have assumed you wouldn't leave, too."
She shrank back against the arm of the couch, tugging her knees up protectively to her chest.
People tended to dismiss him, so that wasn't totally unexpected; it was a familiar ache. But people didn't tend to be upset that he offered to go, didn't tend to try and tuck the blame back in on themselves, and didn't tend to tell him repeatedly they wanted him to stay.
In the silence that stretched between them, he considered what she'd said. Seeing her worry her lip till the red on it wasn't lipstick, he dug around in a pocket till he found a scrap of cloth that may have been a handkerchief at one time.
"Here," he told her, shaking it out. He looked it over, reading the monogram, before offering it to her. "I can't imagine old HPL is going to mind you using this. Why the hell anyone would be buried with a snotrag is beyond me."
He left it on the cushion between them, and sighed.
"Molly, I'm sorry I'm not what you expected when you wanted someone here. But . . ." He paused and made sure she was looking at him before continuing. "None of those people in your life left you. Not voluntarily, and that's a big difference than someone choosing to go."
Now the hard part, because it was dangerous being honest; in his experience, people used it against him. "You've said you'd like me to stay. I'd like to stay too, baby. A little company and comfort? Who in their right mind would turn that down?"
His own gaze had flicked to one side, a little, but he forced it back up to hers.
Out of her peripherals, she could see him moving, and assumed he was getting off the couch to leave. So when he produced an off white square of fabric and placed it in the neutral space between them, her brow knitted in confusion. Molly reached for it; there was probably more bacteria on this handkerchief than in a public restroom, but the gesture was kind, and she held it to her bleeding lip anyway.
Hope leapt in her chest like a flame when he admitted that he'd like to stay. Unfurling from her position on the couch, she sat closer to him, and hardly believing her daring, she lifted her hand to cup her palm against his cheek, touch light in case she needed to pull away quickly.
"I was expecting at most some kind of poltergeist, something I could feel but couldn't see. Something to make the place feel less empty. But you came through, and I can talk to you and touch you . . . honey, don't apologize because you weren't what I was expecting. This is better."
Her thumb swept over the ridge of his cheekbone, secretly hoping no moss had rubbed off on her hand. "I would . . . I would really like you to stay. You're fascinating, and fun to talk to, and cute . . ." She bit her lips out of habit, wincing as her teeth raked the tender spot. "Please."
Her feather light touch made his eyelids flutter closed. It was something he could never get enough of, something he'd never tire of. He had to actively prevent himself from pushing into her like a damn cat.
When she relayed what she'd been hoping for and at her quiet admission that she'd like him to stay, he opened his eyes again and caught her gaze. He also couldn't help drop his eyes to her grabbing her lip between her teeth again. A smile grew on his face, and he hoped it distracted enough from what was growing in his pants.
Beetlejuice twisted his head under her hand a little, planting a kiss into her palm.
"I'd like to stay too, baby," he murmured against her skin, before he lifted his amber eyes to hers again. "You expected a poltergeist, but I can go bump in the night too, you know.
"If you're interested . . ."
There was something about the way his eyes fluttered shut, lashes brushing his cheeks as her palm brushed his cheek, that made her insides tremble; odd how such a minuscule gesture could affect her entire body, could make her breath catch. And oh, when his eyes opened again, intense and pinned to her, missing not a single move she made, and he smiled. Molly wondered if she was supposed to feel this way, if it was the isolation talking or if it was normal to have your heart try to hammer through your ribcage.
His lips were cool, colder than the rest of his skin from the chilled liquor, but they left a spot of warmth behind, ticking her palm as he spoke softly against it. Her stomach did a somersault, then another when he caught her gaze again, that playful flicker alight in his eyes. How could she possibly say no?
"I am interested," she breathed, her hand pressing just a bit more firmly to his cheek, leaning closer. Her drink was set aside, her other hand mirroring its twin, cradling his face between them. Her hands ached with the need to bestow gentleness on him; he seemed to be in desperate need of it. "You . . . you can touch me again . . . if you want."
He didn't need any further invitation. The hand he'd teased her with before went back to her thigh, using light pressure to draw a line up it. He made it to the hem of her shorts, then eased his fingers under it before stopping.
He shifted his head in her palm, and put his teeth on the fleshy mound below her thumb even more lightly than his lips had been.
When she moved closer in, he finally moved out of her hand again.
"Never been kissed, you said?" he confirmed, his voice a tad lower than before. "That's a crime. You bit your lip, and I don't wanna hurt you, baby, but I do want a taste . . ."
He left that hanging in the air as he tilted his head and his mouth covered hers.
The skin beneath his fingers seemed to tremble at their passage, a soft rush of breath leaving her as those gentle fingertips slipped under the hem of her shorts, caressing her inner thigh but venturing no further. A hot flush crept down her neck at the sight of his teeth, the soft scrape of the sharp edges making her lips part. Such subtle touches, but God, the effect they had on her.
Like a peal of passing thunder, the last parting rumbles at the end of a clearing storm, his question was asked, and Molly shook her head to confirm that no, she had never been kissed, head tilted back slightly to bare a throat that bobbed in a heavy swallow. Her hands slid to his shoulders, digging slightly into the material of his suit to ground herself as he crooned to her, leaning closer, closer . . .
tbc
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What happened to all the Witchcraft?
It's hard to say exactly what happened, but I haven't done a single witchy thing since the move ... and quite a bit before that, really. I think part of it was adopting Terra--having a little kitten bouncing off the walls and constantly knocking things over on my altar made it kind of difficult. Not to mention that she had ringworm, so I spent about the first 4 months or so taking care of her. And then there was the move--I'd hoped to pick it up again afterwards, setting up my altar was one of the first things I did in my office, but nothing ever came of it. It didn't help that one of my twin candle holders broke during the move, I haven't been able to find replacements at the thrift stores, and I hated not having that symmetry. I originally discovered witchcraft through Witchy Woman's spell jars which were posted here on Tumblr, and since I had a pretty defunct Tumblr account, I decided to revive it and use it mostly for following her and other witches, and eventually posting my own witch-related stuff. But, one my one, they all either stopped posting or lost interest in the craft, so that killed part of my inspiration. I've been starting to think of paganism and witchcraft as just a fad I went through--maybe I just wanted to be a part of that community. But today something kinda clicked. Molly Roberts posted a video, and her enthusiasm kinda rubbed off on me and I found myself suddenly compelled to wipe the dust off of my alter (literally--the table and everything on it was COVERED in dust! XD) and maybe start back up again. Also, another Tumblr account I was following, Witchy Words, is coming back on Halloween, so that's another witchy-related thing to look forward to. Yeah, I feel like it's time. I know this is kinda rambly, but it's mostly for myself anyway =P
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music: weekly roundup (our favorite submissions of the week)
Dreamaway - We Get On Somehow
This dreamy track has a drop around the :30 mark that picks up the pace and transports you into a boppy, upbeat walk in the park. The refrain throughout of “we get on somehow” is the perfect subtly-positive attitude. Keep an ear out for the high vocals around 2:40 to feel like you’re flying.
Sulene - Sleeping In
While this track is a little more electronic-based than I usually go for, the opening line really sold me. South African artist Sulene croons, “I wanna see what you look like / wearing nothing / but me”. When the first chorus kicks in and the instrumentals crescendo to meet Sulene’s voice, the melody really shines. This track is radiant, and it brings back every memory of teenage bliss.
Molly Ringworm - No Matter What
I do have to admit that I was first drawn to this track by the band name - I love a good pun. When I did my first listen, I was struck by the frankness of the lyrics and the attitude in the vocals. While it’s not overly angsty, it drips with disdain for some ill-behaved ex-lover? ex-friend? Open to interpretation (which makes it more effective, in my opinion) and it doesn’t matter, because Molly Ringworm is having a moment to tell you how they feel and why you suck. Better listen up.
Emily Chambers - Girlfriend Like you
This song is also not really my usual style, I guess this is a week for genre exploration for me. I was drawn to this song for a few reasons, the first being the smooth-like-butter vocals. Emily Chambers has a voice like molasses - it’s deep and rich with major R&B undertones. I also loved that this song is so different lyrically. Songs about female friendships and relationships and few and far between in the R&B universe, and this song felt so wholesome. Give it a listen with your ladies.
American Authors - Champion (ft. Beau Young Prince)
The staccato-like beat of this song is so fun and unexpected. It’s not like what I’ve heard from American Authors in the past, and it stood out in this week’s crop of songs that were largely electro pop. The drums in this are low and slow and they lay such a strong foundation for the rest of the track. There’s some brass hiding in there somewhere, which rounds up the instrumentation of this song beautifully.
Reminders - Picturesque
One of my favorite rare occurrences in the world are vocals that don’t mask an accent. The second the vocals kicked in on this punky little track, I was sold. The very subtle British accent here that carries through the track gives it a little bit of extra star power. The choruses pack a lot of punch. There’s a guitar break just after the two minute mark that feels so classic-British-punk. This song is something special.
Manic Year - Talk
As of now, this is Manic Year’s only track. While it has a lot riding on its shoulders, it doesn’t disappoint. I was really looking for something with some bite for this week’s roundup, and this was the only track that provided. It wastes no time in getting to the good part, the vocals kick in with grit and vitriol immediately and the lyrics match. The instrumentals don’t disappoint either - it’s almost hard to keep up with the ferocity of the drums. In case you’re thinking that that may be too much for you, don’t worry: there’s a time change near the end that slows things down just a bit and refreshes the track right before a very fitting but abrupt end. I don’t know what’s next for Manic Year, but I’ll be paying attention.
Listen to all of these songs on our playlist!
Article by: Jacq Kozak
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Crossroads | oc:Alice Harkins/Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Chapter 3: Horseshoe Overlook (Part 1)
[Read on AO3]
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
Alice tried not to complain now that they were out of the snow. The Heartlands were beautiful and Alice felt more at home in the area when compared to the deserts of New Austin. The temperature allowed her to finally be able to put her hair back up in a bit of a messy bun – although it still wasn’t exactly warm yet. Spirits were up in the camp. However, the first two weeks of settling into Horseshoe Overlook were a bit of a mess. Coordinating with everyone to ensure they all weren’t spotted in town at the same times in order to make it a little less obvious they all weren’t together, having to figure out the lay of the land and any emergency exits from camp, and mostly just readjusting to not freezing to death at every waking moment was making her feel a little stuffy. A few of the boys were already in town at the moment and Alice was not afraid to admit she had wished she could have gone along with them instead of being stuck with chores.
She was currently elbow-deep in a load of laundry. Her pruned fingers were itching for something to do that was a little less…typical. She didn’t always get stuck with the camp chores but when she wasn’t needed on a job she ended up with the ones Miss Grimshaw knew didn’t enjoy. Alice loved the woman, she practically raised her alongside Dutch and Hosea, but she knew how to put someone to work. Alice knew her and the other girls were antsy to get out of camp and actually do the things they were good at. Her and Mary-Beth in particular were worried their pick-pocketing skills might be starting to get rusty and were not afraid to use that as an excuse to get out of work if need be. She had overheard Uncle talking about heading into town earlier, so when she saw him talking with Arthur she knew it was now or never. Looking towards where she last saw Miss Grimshaw she saw her in a heated argument with Molly. Alice quickly began smacking Mary-Beth on the arm, splashing water on her face.
“It’s time!” She whispered loudly. “Get the girls! We gotta get out of here!”
The girls burst into a fit of giggles as they chased after Karen and Tilly.
The girl-gang assembled, they all quickly made their way over to Arthur and Uncle.
“Arthur!” Alice called out as she neared him. “If you’re takin’ Uncle into town, could you take us too?” She batted her eyelashes up at him.
Arthur struck a match to his boot, lighting the cigarette at his lips.
“Why, what you got planned?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Nothin yet, but we’ll find something. We always do.”
“We’re bored out of our minds.” Mary-Beth chimed in. “Been cooped up here for two weeks now! Karen’s about ready to murder Grimshaw.”
“Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?”
The girls all scoffed.
“’Can Miss Grimshaw spare you?’” Karen repeated. “What’s happened to you, Arthur? Four young, healthy women want you to take ‘em robbing, and you’re worried about house chores?”
Arthur had the decency to look bashful, covering eyes with the brim of his hat.
“Come on!” Alice tugged on his arm.
Arthur chuckled under his breath. “Fair enough, you got me. Come on then.”
The girls all whooped as they hopped into back of the supply wagon. Tilly was excited to see more civilization than they had in a long while. Alice picked the spot that was directly behind Uncle. Mostly because it was the first seat available, but it wouldn’t be a complete lie to say that she also knew it would reward her with the best view to gaze at Arthur as he drove. After some idle chatter, Uncle asked the girls if they’d sing a song for the road. The others agreed. Alice stayed quiet – she never liked singing in front of others, made her far too shy. She was more than happy to clap along to provide a beat for the girls to go off of. She spotted Arthur’s smile as he mumbled along the words that he knew. Suddenly, there was a commotion as a carriage coming along the road nearby sped past uncontrollably, crashing into a rock ahead of them causing one of the horses to break loose.
“Is one of you gonna get that fella’s horse?” Tilly asked, causing Arthur to stop the wagon.
“Oh, I got lumbago, it’s very serious!” Uncle turned towards them.
“Alright.” The girls all chuckled when Arthur groaned and shook his head as he stepped off the wagon. “I’ll see what’s going on.”
Alice watched as Arthur spoke to the man and then made his way over to the horse that broke loose. It was a lovely, white draft horse. She never got the hang of rounding up horses like Arthur did. He tried teaching her once, didn’t work out too well in her favor. She loved watching him do it though.
Everyone on the wagon was silent as they watched Arthur slowly make his way towards the horse, calming it along the way. When he was finally able to grab hold on the reins there was a quiet cheer from the girls so as not to spook the horse once more. Turning the horse back over to the driver, Arthur rubbed his neck at the thanks given to him.
“You’re a gentleman, sir, a gentleman!”
“No, not really…I was just, trying to impress the women.”
Arthur muttered the last bit but he was close enough for them to hear. Mary-Beth nudged Alice in the arm, leaning close to whisper.
“Or impress a particular woman?” She grinned widely.
Alice shushed her, shoving her into Tilly.
That was a silly thought. He had no reason to impress her.
With a cheer from Karen the wagon was back on the path towards Valentine.
Valentine was exactly how the boys had described it when they came into town before. Alice knew it was a livestock town long before they got near the sheep pens. The smell packed a punch. The girls were happy to finally see other people. Alice was taking in the various buildings and surroundings. She had to admit, a part of her missed living a town sometimes – at least for the familiarity. As they passed through the main street the girls got a little more serious as they eyed the people, looking for marks. Karen was a little too excited, causing Arthur to remind them to keep a low profile. Alice wasn’t quite sure what to look for just yet so for the moment she just observed, trying to figure out how the people of Valentine acted and how they dressed so she could spot any uniqueness. That would be the target for her. So far she wasn’t seeing much. Eventually Arthur stopped the wagon at the end of the street near the stables and the girls started jumping off. Alice grimaced at the sight of the mud that had splashed onto her shoes when she hit the ground. Karen announced that the girls were going to start at the saloon. Alice wasn’t quite sure yet if that’s what she wanted to do. At the moment she was just enjoying her time out of camp. She just wanted to explore a little, leave the mischief to the others.
“Alice?” Mary-Beth turned towards her. “You comin’?”
“Nah, ya’ll go on ahead. I’m gonna look around a little.”
She nodded and the girls were off, giggling along the way.
“Just stay out of trouble,” Arthur called out to them before they got too far away, “and don’t get yourselves noticed.”
Uncle mentioned something about the stores so Arthur called out for them to meet back up at the general store.
“What about you?” Arthur looked towards Alice.
She was currently stepping very carefully towards the porch of a nearby building to avoid the deeper puddles of mud.
“Well, I don’t have any ideas at the moment. So, I suppose I’m stuck with you two fools.” She smiled back at him.
As the three made their way towards the general store Arthur continued to pester Uncle much to the enjoyment of Alice.
“You’re a sad man, Arthur Morgan. I don’t know how you put up with him, Miss Harkins.” Uncle waved a hand through the air at no-one in particular.
“I sometimes ask myself the same thing. Uncle.” Alice grinned up at Arthur so he knew she was kidding.
Alice held a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughs when Arthur glared at the back of Uncle’s head.
“But I know you love me.” Uncle glanced back him.
“Desperately,” Arthur deadpanned. “You’re my favorite parasite.” Arthur stopped for a brief second as they neared the door of the general store. “No…ringworm’s my favorite parasite, you’re my second favorite parasite.”
“Very funny.” Uncle stopped in front of the door.
“I lied…”Arthur continued, causing Alice to turn around to laugh politely. “Ringworm, then rats with the plague, then you.”
Uncle mumbled something that Alice didn’t quite catch and went inside the store.
“Oh, Arthur.” Alice was still smiling when he turned around towards her with a grin of his own.
“What?”
“You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head as he held the door open for her.
“Perhaps.”
The inside of the store was small and musty but it had all the essentials. Alice’s sweet-tooth betrayed her as she honed in on the candies display in the center. Arthur walked around, grabbing a canister of coffee and a few other small things before he walked back to Alice.
“Can’t decide?” He mumbled, leaning down to her height.
Alice shivered at his voice being that low and that close to her ears. She felt her face heat up.
“There’s too many options.” She pouted.
Arthur hummed. “Get a little of each, my treat.”
Alice turned on him, his face now inches from hers. Arthur’s eyes widened at her sudden movement, coughing a little and standing up once more.
“I-I couldn’t ask that of you, Arthur!”
“It’s fine.” He waved her off, handing her a small bag and the scoop. “Just know that I get a bit of that.”
Alice smiled up at him. He was too sweet for his own good sometimes. She went to work scooping small portions of each of the candies available. Mostly hard ones that would last her a while before she could get more. Her full bag in hand she went up to the counter where Arthur was looking through the catalogue at some boots. Arthur smiled up at her as she placed the bag on the counter along with his items. The owner glanced between the two of them, a smirk forming on his lips. Alice had a feeling she knew what he was thinking and her face heated up once more as Arthur paid for everything.
Uncle was already seated on the bench outside the store nursing his new bottle of whiskey. He passed it to Arthur as the two relaxed. Alice sat next to Arthur, pulling two pieces of candy out. One was peppermint, the other she wasn’t sure. She chose the peppermint and held her hand out to Arthur.
“Here.” The candy clacked against her teeth.
Arthur looked down at her hand, a smile ghosted his lips. His free hand grabbed the candy from her palm, his fingers brushing over her own caused her to shiver. If he noticed, he didn’t react. Despite it being such a normal act, Alice couldn’t help but follow the candy to his lips. She was thankful Arthur wasn’t looking in her direction lest her heart burst from her chest. She’s saved a death by embarrassment, by Uncle drawing Arthur’s attention with a story.
They aren’t quite sure how much time had passed while the three of them sat there. Enough for Arthur to fall asleep, his body slightly leaning into Alice. She didn’t mind. She knew the man barely got enough sleep as is with all the work he did. She wished he’d just take a day for himself to catch up and relax for once. Perhaps she’d talk him into it another day. Alice was almost dozing off herself when she saw Mary-Beth approaching. They both smiled at one another.
“Gentlemen.” She called out to the men, startling them awake. “I think I’ve got something good.”
Alice moved closer to Arthur so Mary-Beth could sit on the edge of the bench.
“So, I snuck into this fancy house and acted like a servant girl - usually works.” She leaned in. “Someone was saying her sister was taking a trip from New York or some place. Train full of rich tourists, heading to Saint Denis, and then cruising off to Brazil!” Her excitement was infectious as Alice was smiling at what that could mean.
“Okay.” Arthur was nodding slowly, thinking about it.
“A train laden with baggage and passing through a bit of deserted country at night as to get to the docks in time for the tides.” Arthur seemed to get more excited as she went on. “Some place called Scarlett Meadows.”
“Yeah, I know it.” Uncle spoke up. “Yeah, yeah, it’s right out near New Hanover. Right, it’s real quiet out there.”
“Sounds good.” Arthur smiled to himself, enjoying the idea.
“Where’s Tilly and Karen?” Alice looked around.
Mary-Beth scoffed. “I think at the hotel, they were picking up some drunken fellers that they was gonna rob.”
“Why?” Arthur looked over at her.
“It seemed easy?” Arthur let out a sigh at that. “They have been gone for quite a while…”
Arthur groaned, shaking his head briefly before standing.
“Guess I’ll go see if there’s any trouble.”
Alice stood to go searching as well when Mary-Beth spotted Tilly being dragged away roughly by a man into an alley.
“Excuse me.” Arthur marched his way over.
Alice followed, not trying to get in his way but hoping to get Tilly out of there when he was through with…whatever he was about to do. As they got closer they could hear the man was arguing with Tilly, it seemed as though he was someone from her past. Arthur pulled out his gun, Alice placed a hand on the hilt of her knife, standing behind him.
“Get your hands off her, friend.” Arthur’s voice rumbled.
“Who are you?” The man was holding Tilly against the wall by her shoulder.
“A friend of mine.” She glared at him.
“Get off her.”
The man, idiot that he was, stepped up to Arthur, sizing him up.
“Or what, exactly?”
“You wanna find out?” Arthur’s voice was deadly low.
The man took a step back, glancing between Arthur and Tilly.
“You’re making a big mistake, Tilly Jackson.”
As soon as the man started walking away, Alice rushed in to take Tilly’s hand, taking her away from the scene.
“Take her to the others. I’ll go see about Karen.” Arthur’s voice was back to its normal timber.
Alice nodded, keeping her attention on Tilly. She wasn’t shaken up so much out of fear but out of anger. Alice didn’t press the issue as they walked on. She turned briefly to see Arthur make his way over to the hotel.
It wasn’t too long before Karen and Arthur exited the building. Everyone met up near the wagon, the girls immediately looking over Karen’s bruised face.
“Are you okay?” Tilly turned Karen’s face to get a better look at it.
“Sure, he only punched me.” Karen let out a quick laugh. “Arthur punched him a lot harder.”
Arthur was about to reply when Mary-Beth spoke up.
“Hey, who’s that guy over there looking at us?”
Everyone’s attention rounded on a man seated on horseback staring very obviously at the group.
“Weren’t you in Blackwater a few weeks back?” The man called out, his attention on Arthur.
Alice’s skin prickled.
“Shit.” She muttered under her breath.
“Me?” Arthur shook his head. “No, sir. Ain’t from there.”
“Oh, you were.” The man shook his finger at him. “Well, I definitely saw you. With a bunch of fellers.”
“Me? No, impossible.” Arthur stepped towards the man. “Listen, buddy. Come here for a minute.”
“I saw you…” The man grabbed his reins. “Come on, get!”
“I don’t like this.” Uncle watched the man ride off.
“Me neither. Go get the girls home.” Arthur saddled up on a nearby horse. “I’m gonna go have a word with our friend.”
“Be careful, Arthur.” Alice spoke up.
“Just a word!” He called back as he galloped away.
Alice watched him until both he and the man passed out of the town’s limits. She briefly heard someone yell after his stolen horse.
“Come on, girls. Let’s get you in the wagon.” Uncle started walking over.
“I’m gonna stay here, wait on Arthur.” Alice smiled at the girls. “I think we’re gonna meet up with the boys if they’re still in town.”
They all nodded, telling them they’d see her later. She let out a sigh as she went back to the bench she had been seated on previously while she waited, popping another candy in her mouth.
Alice guessed it was maybe an hour before she saw Arthur walking back down the main street. He must have returned whoever’s horse he had borrowed. He spotted her and she met him halfway in the road. He seemed okay. No blood on him from either him or the man.
“How’d it go?” She looked over his face.
“Fine. Don’t think we’ll have any more problems from him.” Arthur laughed through his nose. “Got a fancy pen out of it though.” He held the silver pen up for Alice to see.
“Well, look at that. Gonna sell it or use it in your journal?”
“Dunno yet.” He looked it over before putting it back into his satchel.
There was a bit of a lull in the conversation, but not an awkward one as the two walked out of the middle of the street.
“Well, I’m gonna see if I can’t find the boys. Knowing them they’ll probably be at the saloon.” He glanced down at her. “Why didn’t you go back with the rest of the girls?”
Alice shook her head. “I figured while I’m here I might as well see what horses the stable’s got to offer. Gonna need another eventually. I’ll meet you over there when I’m done?”
Arthur huffed with a sharp nod. Clearly not wanting to leave her alone after what had just occurred. She smiled up at him, grateful for his concern before waving him off as she turned back towards the stable.
After greeting the stable-hand, Alice made her way to the stalls to see what was available. At the moment they had three horses ready to be sold on the spot. There was a lovely palomino dappled Standardbred that reminded her far too much of her late Caramel. It hit a little too close to home. Next was a Warmblood with a lovely chocolate roan coat. Alice had to crane her neck to simply look up at the beast’s face. While beautiful, she had a feeling she would never be able to get her foot in the stirrup no matter how hard she tried. Finally, there was the Halfbred with a shiny, dappled, dark grey coat. Still, it would be slightly too tall to saddle, she thought. It also seemed far too strong for her to control.
Sighing, Alice thanked the stable-hand for his time. She’d have more options in other towns. That, or she could take up Arthur’s offer from long ago of taming a wild one for her.
Stepping back into the muddy streets of Valentine, Alice made her way up to the saloon. The sky was starting to darken as the late afternoon rain clouds began their approach. The town had quieted some as most of the traders were beginning to leave, the only sound coming from the saloon. Alice was eager, and almost giddy, as she got closer. It had been so long since she’d been able to have a nice drink, and actual hot food that wasn’t stew – no offense to Pearson. She ignored some of the looks she got from the men hanging outside the door, she’d grown used to them. Swinging it open carefully as to not knock into someone, she felt her cheeks pinch into a smile.
Which immediately fell along with her stomach as she took in the sight before her.
Javier and Charles were currently leaning against the bar, with two working girls between them. One of them had hair similar to Alice’s in color, but a much fuller chest than she’d ever have. The other, who had Charles’ arm draped around her waist, was beautiful, Alice would admit. Her slightly tanned skin and dark hair made for a lovely sight next to Charles. Arthur was currently saying something to the ladies. Alice couldn’t hear anything aside from the blood rushing through her ears. Seemingly upset with whatever nonsense had come from Arthur’s mouth, the girls stomped their way off. Javier pouted, glaring at Arthur. Charles almost nearly fell onto his face trying desperately to hold onto the hand of the woman that had been at his side. Alice felt her chest tighten. When Charles finally turned around after failing to keep his companion from leaving, his eyes found hers, still paralyzed in the doorway. He froze. His sudden shift in demeanor caused Arthur to follow his gaze. Alice was already small, but she felt in that moment that she had shrunk even further as her eyes shifted between them. Before either men could make a move or sound she was already out the door. She spotted their horses nearby, heading over to tend to them. Anything to clear the images from her mind.
“They’re here for one day.” She mutters. She’s not sure if it was to herself or Taima who she was currently brushing. “I know it’s silly. It’s for information. But do they have to look so…happy to do it?” She turns to Boaz, giving him a small treat. “Surely they can get information in some other fashion.” She rubs the muzzle of Arthur’s horse.
If she thought the noises from the saloon were loud before, the distinct sounds of a brawl was enough to break her attention from the horses. She walked around them and was almost in the street when someone was suddenly thrown through the window, landing harshly in the mud. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized just who was currently rolling around on the ground.
“Arthur!” She cried out.
Before she could come to his aid, an extremely large man came rushing down the stairs of the saloon.
“Come on, pretty boy!” The man bellowed out.
“Pretty boy?” Arthur growled. “You’re kidding me. Pretty boy?!”
A crowd was forming around the two men as they readied up to fight. Alice made her way around the edge of the crowd, keeping her eyes on Arthur. She spotted Javier, Charles, and Bill standing on the saloon porch so she made her way to them. She could feel Charles staring at her but her concerns were focused on Arthur who was struggling. Rain had finally broken free from the clouds, making the street even muddier. Every hit Arthur took caused Alice to flinch. She knew he was a good fighter, but whoever this man was certainly packed a punch with his size. She could barely register the cheers made by the men next to her. The man had Arthur pinned to the ground, one hand holding his face down into the mud while the other gripped Arthur’s forearm, appearing to try to break it. With a quick punch and kick to the gut, Arthur had Tommy – she learned from the jeers from the crowd – down on his back. It only took a few hard hits from Arthur for her to realize that Tommy was not going to be fighting back any time soon. But Arthur kept hitting. And he kept hitting. Alice turned her face away. She was no saint, she had blood on her hands, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it; whether it came from her or someone else. She realized at that moment that she had instinctively gotten closer to where Charles was leaning against the wall of the saloon. Before Arthur could finish Tommy off, a man burst through the crowd, begging Arthur to stop. She could see the tension in Arthur’s shoulders, she couldn’t see his face with his back turned away, but she could imagine the thoughts going through his mind as the man continued to plead for Tommy’s life. Alice released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when she saw Arthur push the man out of his way and move his way through the crowd. He kept going, nursing his bruised body as he walked along the porch toward the general store. Alice and the boys stayed where they were, giving Arthur his space. A familiar voice broke through the rain, causing Arthur to stop.
“Making new friends again I see, Arthur!” That voice was hard to miss.
Alice smiled as she saw the man, it had been quite some time since they last crossed paths with the magician. Dutch was with him, sending a nod her way.
“Look who we found sniffing about.” Dutch did a quick glance over Arthur.
Arthur shook his head. “Josiah Trelawny.”
“The very same!”
“Well, well,” Arthur continued, brushing the mud from his face as best he could. “I thought you’d gone to New York?”
“And miss all this glamour?” Josiah stretched his arms out sarcastically. “You must be joking.”
Alice worried her lip as she saw Arthur limp his way towards the two, rubbing his jaw. She could only imagine how his face was going to look tomorrow.
“How are you?”
“Well. Quite well indeed.” Josiah leaned against the hitching post nearby. “I went to Blackwater looking for you gentlemen. You’re not very popular there it seems.”
Arthur grimaced as he brought himself down to sit on the porch. As Alice and the boys neared, they drew the attention of the others.
“Ah, Javier and Charles. Alice.” Josiah tipped his hat at her. “I’ve missed you.”
Bill sauntered up behind them.
“And Bill, looking as well as can be. Always a pleasure.”
Alice looked amongst the men, out of all of them it seemed Charles was either blessed to have not been injured in the fight, or was really good at not showing his weaknesses. She was still avoiding his gaze, despite her observations. She helped Javier onto a nearby crate as he nursed his shoulder back into place.
“You’re right.” Dutch spoke up. “We ain’t too popular in Blackwater.”
“We left a lot of money there.” Arthur muttered.
“And young Sean it seems.”
Dutch’s shock was mirrored on Alice’s face.
“Sean? You found him?”
Josiah nodded. “Yes, I have. He’s being held by some bounty hunters, trying to see how much money the government will pay them. I know he’s in Blackwater… but there’s talk of them moving.”
“Well, if we step foot in Blackwater,” Arthur groaned, popping his jaw back into place. “Well, then we’re dead men for sure.” Arthur was already halfway standing before Alice could step forward to help.
“There’ll be Pinkertons all over the place, but,” Dutch looked over them all. “If he’s alive we’ve gotta try.”
Everyone nodded.
“Yeah, of course.” Arthur muttered.
Alice knew Arthur had mixed feelings about the Irishman – at least when he wouldn’t shut up.
Josiah looked over to Dutch. “It’s you they want, Dutch.”
“Always is.” Dutch thought for a moment. “Charles, go find out what you can. Carefully. Take Alice with you. I’m sure she’s itching for something to do.”
Charles nodded quickly, already walking away without a word. Alice hesitated a moment before complying, sending a tight smile towards Dutch. She had wanted to get out, but this wasn’t exactly going in her favor.
“Josiah, take Javier. Arthur, go get yourself cleaned up. Join them when you’re ready.”
Alice stopped for a brief second at that before continuing.
Javier was walking Boaz over to where Josiah had hitched Gwydion. Alice stood silently next to Charles who was searching through his saddlebag. She knew what he was looking for.
“Sorry,” She spoke softly. “I put the brush in the other one. Didn’t realize.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
She wasn’t sure if it was for letting him know where the brush was, or letting him know that she had already brushed his horse. She gave him a quick smile that she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Charles stepped up into the stirrups, pulling himself up onto the saddle. He let out a deep breath when he settled before leaning over to help Alice. She took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled up onto the back.
The ride out of Valentine was quiet except for the sound of the occasional groan from the man in front of her when either she or Taima moved.
She swore this man was just as stubborn as Arthur.
“Charles, just stop for a second.” She sighed.
He hummed in question.
“I know you’re hurtin’. And this is already an uncomfortable ride as is, we don’t need you physically uncomfortable as well.” She felt herself worrying her lip again. It was going to be sore later.
Charles didn’t say anything, and for a moment she wondered if he would just keep going until he pulled Taima off to a small clearing on the side of the road. Javier and Josiah rode up behind them but Alice waved them on, telling them they’d catch up. Alice slid out of the saddle, watching as Charles’ face contorted as he got down. She didn’t have much in her satchel that could help with anything serious, but she had a tonic that would probably help with the pain.
They stood there for a moment, neither speaking.
“Well?” Alice huffed. “Let me see.” She waved her hands vaguely towards him.
Gone was the flirty Charles from the saloon, and instead she spotted his cheeks darken as he began unbuttoning the collar of his shirt to remove it. Alice gulped, her face heating up just as much his. When his shirt finally came off he tossed it onto the saddle. His attention returned to Alice who was doing her utmost not to look him in the eyes. Not that she could drag her attention from the sight before her if she tried.
She had seen countless shirtless men. It was inevitable with the ratio of men to women in the gang, but none of them – save perhaps Arthur; she shook her head from that image for it would be too much to handle at the moment– could compare to Charles. She already knew he was a large man, both in stature and in bulk. His hands engulfed hers, and she now saw just why her arms could never fully wrap around his torso when she rode with him. Pushing her less than lady-like thoughts from her mind she focused her attention on the nasty-looking dark, welt that was forming on his right side. It was dark outside, but there was just enough light from the moon to allow her to see, just barely. She hoped he didn’t have a broken rib, there wasn’t much she could do about that. She stepped forward hesitantly, holding her hands up to prepare to feel the area. He didn’t stop her. She could feel his eyes on her, watching every move. She let out a slow breath as she placed her small, pale hands against his broad ribcage. The contrast in both size and color was fascinating to her. She prodded at him gingerly, trying to feel for anything broken without causing him too much pain. She didn’t feel anything too out of the ordinary.
“I don’t think anything’s broken.” She risked a glance up at him. “You got lucky.”
He huffed a laugh through his nose.
“Perhaps.”
She dug the tonic from her bag, handing it to him. He tried turning it away but she insisted. Charles went to put his shirt back on. As she was about to walk back to Taima, Charles’ hand latched onto her own, stopping her gently. His grip loose enough to allow her to escape his grasp if she wanted. She turned back to look at him, though her eyes focused on everything but his face.
“Alice.” His voice rumbled through her. “Please, look at me.”
She kept her head down a bit, but her eyes flitted up towards him. He looked…upset.
“I…”He struggled to find the words, his hand tightening and loosening its grip. “I hope you don’t think too poorly of me for what you saw earlier. Javier knew they’d be a good way to get information on some of the people in town…you know how it is.”
She nodded. She knew that. She knew. She didn’t know why he felt the need to apologize, if that was what he was doing.
“I just,” He grabbed her other hand in his free one, bringing them between the two of them. “I don’t know whether it’s just one-sided or not, but I do enjoy whatever it is we have going on. And I don’t want to ruin that.”
Her head lifted at this, her eyes searching his face for any sign that this was an illusion. That she hadn’t just been sleeping away in her tent back in Horseshoe Overlook and she’d wake any moment. She wasn’t naïve, she had feelings for him. Ever since he joined up with their gang she felt drawn to the man. The little moments and the ease at which the two were able to touch one another as if they had been together for years spoke volumes to their…whatever it was. Did she believe in destiny? No. But even her feelings for Arthur had taken their time to manifest over the years she had known him. With Charles it took only a few weeks.
Arthur’s face popped into her mind with her thoughts.
She was thrilled with knowing that Charles reciprocated her feelings, at least somewhat. He seemed interested enough to see where things could go at least. But she couldn’t deny that she had strong feelings towards Arthur as well. Was the world playing a cruel trick on her, forcing her to choose between two men she cared for equally? Hell, she thought, she didn’t even know if Arthur returned her feelings at all. Perhaps he only saw her as some sort of sister as John did. She’d never know, she’d never be able to ask him.
She didn’t know how long her silence had dragged on, but Charles did not seem impatient. Kind enough to allow her to process everything. She smiled up at him.
“I’ll admit.” She laughed sheepishly. “I may have been a tad bit jealous. But I know how information gathering works. I understand.” She felt him squeeze her hands. “And I can honestly say that it’s not one-sided, Charles. Whatever we have going on, if you’re willing, I’d be more than happy to see what could happen? If you’re agreeable to that?”
The soft smile that pulled across Charles’ face was enough to turn her somber mood completely upside down. She wanted to see that smile for as long as she could.
“I’d be agreeable to that.” He laughed under his breath.
With a final squeeze to her hands, Charles let go.
The two stared at one another for a moment, the rain still coming down softly as a cloud passed over the moon, darkening the world once more in night.
“We should catch up to the others.” Charles’ eyes never left hers.
Alice nodded, not finding her voice. Her mind still turning.
Charles hopped back up onto Taima, if the tonic worked she didn’t know, but he didn’t make a noise even as he helped her on behind him. She was gentle with the arm that neared his bruised side as they started off once more.
The ride to Blackwater was already going to be a long one. It was especially arduous due to Javier and Charles’ injuries slowing the party down. A trip that may have normally taken one night of camping ended up taking two. Javier’s injuries were greater than Charles’ simply due to the difference in size between the men. Charles could take a few good punches, Javier could not. The biggest issue for Javier was his shoulder. Everything else would heal fine, but his shoulder had been dislocated in the fight. For now it was simply a bother for him that he complained about in order to be doted on by Alice. The man loved teasing her, ever since he had joined up. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well. She could both take the teasing and dish it back in equal measure.
They had found a ridge overlooking Blackwater to camp in. Josiah took the time to head into town for information since his face wasn’t known there. For now it was simply a waiting game until Arthur showed up.
It was just reaching noon when Arthur finally crested over the hill. Alice was currently seated on a rock as a look-out as Charles and Javier laid on the ground scouting with their binoculars. She quickly made her way over to Arthur as he got off his horse.
“How are you feeling?” She looked him over. Whatever swelling he received from the fight had gone down significantly over the past three days, and his face was only slightly yellowed in spots from the old bruising. She didn’t know about the rest of him.
He smiled down at her.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.” He grabbed his things from his saddle.
“I’ll always worry about you, Arthur.”
He stilled for a moment before pulling out a cattleman revolver.
“I know if I ask you to go back to camp where it’s safer you’ll just argue so…here.” He holds it out to her. “I can’t always be there to keep you safe, but this should do the job.”
Alice’s gaze shifted between Arthur and the gun until she finally grasped it. It was small enough to fit in her hands without being too heavy. It seemed brand new as well, the silver plating was carved with roses and thorns along the barrel and grip. She noticed a small engraving on the bottom edge, “A.H.”
“Arthur…” Alice could feel her face heating up and she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
She held it off to the side as she placed a quick kiss to his cheek without thinking. She saw him try to hide his face behind his hat but the flush on his cheeks was hard to miss. She didn’t have a holster for the gun at the moment so she opted to just tuck it into her belt for the time being.
“The, uh, the boys are over there.” She pointed in their direction.
Arthur coughed a quick thank you before making his way over. Alice released a slow, shaky breath as she gathered herself once more. She did a quick scan of the area before heading back to where she was seated before. She couldn’t quite hear the boys since they were talking lowly amongst themselves, but she turned around to stare at the two men who were currently tugging her heart in two directions.
She was saved from going down that confusing rabbit-hole by the sight of a familiar red jacket coming up the hill. She nodded at Josiah as he dismounted and stalked his way over to the others. She caught a little of the conversation. Sean was being moved and it was now or never if they were going to get the man back. She saw Arthur point Charles off in one direction. Charles passed by Alice to grab his weapons.
“What’s the plan?” She walked over to him.
“Sean’s being moved to a federal prison. We’re getting him before they can get too far.” Charles pulled his sawed-off out of his saddle.
“And you’re going…?” She saw that Arthur and Javier were still on the ground.
“We’re gonna cut them off from two directions. I’m going up North.”
Alice blinked at him.
“…by yourself?”
“Yes?”
Alice huffed. They always sent Charles off to do things on his own. She knew he could take care of himself but, surely he needs back-up when it comes to dangerous missions like this?
“Well, I’m comin’ with you then.” She tapped her gun.
“Alice…” Charles tried to fight it but stopped when he saw the look on Alice’s face. “Just, keep close.”
By this point the others had showed up to mount their horses. Arthur did not take the news of Alice going with Charles very well, but she could tell he was holding his tongue. He did give her the gun for a reason. He was at least happy she’d have Charles with her to watch over her. The group split up, Charles and Alice in one direction, the rest in the other.
When they reached the Northern edge of the canyon Charles tied Taima up to a tree far enough away from where any action may take place. He and Alice sneaked over to an area of secluded bushes and rocks and waited for their opportunity. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves and a few bird calls every now and then. Off in the distance they could see the others on the cliff above where the bounty hunters had stopped their boat. Charles stepped out towards the edge, pulling out his binoculars. He waved at the boys.
“How’s it looking?” Alice whispered.
“I see Sean. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens until the others get here.” He made his way back to her quickly. “They’re bringing him up this way looks like. Keep a watch on where they take him.”
Alice nodded. She could hear voices getting closer and the distinct Irish accent of someone causing far too much trouble for the situation he was in. There was a party of about ten or so men who walked past with Sean in tow, kicking and screaming about something or another. Alice tucked herself closer to Charles. She wasn’t a stranger to gunfights and the like, the life of an outlaw meant she had to learn. But she only ever fought and killed when necessary. She never went out of her way to harm people. Her thing was stealing for a reason.
A few minutes went past when the sound of bullets came echoing from the canyon. Some of the men from before came down the hill to investigate, rifles at the ready. Alice looked towards Charles who was holding onto his tomahawk. She adjusted the grip on her new gun. He glanced down at her for a moment and she nodded. After that it was like the floodgates had opened. Charles jumped from their hiding spot, surprising the closest man with a hatchet to the back of the head. Alice had her sights set on a man currently too distracted by shooting her friends in the valley. She shot him in the arm, causing him to drop the gun, when he turned to face her she fired again, in the chest. Her new gun felt like an extension of herself. She was thankful for all the practice she’d gotten in the past from Arthur and Hosea as her aim wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
Bullets were coming from every direction: below, around, and above as the bounty hunters surrounded the area. She briefly spotted Arthur and Javier climbing the hill towards them when she heard a shout from behind her. She saw Arthur pointing up and when she turned she saw Charles being choked by one of the men. She raised her gun. Her hands shook at the possibility that she might hit Charles but Charles elbowed the man in the gut, giving her just the right amount of space for her to fire her weapon. She hit him in the neck, the bullet passing right through him. The man fell and his body toppled over the side of the cliff. Charles was currently coughing, catching his breath when Alice ran up to him. Her hands were still shaking from being unused to a firefight in such a long time.
After insisting that he was okay, she and Charles ran to meet up with the others as they crested the hill. The bounty hunters from their campsite had stopped shooting, probably to gain a defensive position.
“You good?” Charles called out as they got closer.
“Wouldn’t go that far.” Arthur replied, reloading his rifle.
“Their camp’s up this way, come on.”
The four of them crested the hill. Alice’s lungs were burning but she pushed through it.
‘Gotta get Sean.’ She kept reminding herself.
Javier and Arthur went left when they reached the camp while Charles and Alice went right. The fight started almost immediately. Alice could see Sean hanging from a tree near the back of the camp and that fueled just enough adrenaline for her to return fire from her cover. She saw Arthur pushing in, not even bothering to try and hide behind cover when the bullets got too close. Alice would have to argue with him about his bullheadedness later. A bottle near her head was shattered by a bullet, the shards of glass scratching at her cheek. She ignored the sting caused by the cuts but she could tell it wasn’t that bad.
Then there was silence.
Alice’s ears were ringing from the gunfire, but there was currently no one firing anymore as the last man went down. The only sounds now were the grunts of Sean trying to reach the rope around his ankles. Arthur quickly shot the rope, dropping Sean onto his back before running over to cut the rope off him.
“You know,” Sean started, “you’re a lot less ugly from that other angle, Arthur.”
Alice could see the cheeky grin on Sean’s face. Oh how she had missed him, she’d never admit it though.
“Do I get a hug, Arthur?” Sean laughed as he got up to his feet. “A warm embrace for a lost brother, now found.” He held his arms out.
Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder, laughing. “You know, nothing means more to me than this gang. The bond we share, it’s the most real thing to me. I would kill for it, I would happily die for it, but in spite of all that, I would have easily left you here to rot if Charles hadn’t stopped me.”
Sean scoffed. “I don’t believe a word of that Arthur.”
Alice laughed, drawing the attention of all the men. While they had been busy with Sean she had been catching her breath off to the side. Sean’s eyes lit up when he saw her.
“Alice! Now there’s someone who’ll give ol’ Sean a hug!” He walked over towards her, his arms out.
Alice shook her head with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah. You best behave yourself now. Arthur wasn’t kiddin’.” She winked at him as he brought her in for a quick hug.
Arthur huffed from behind them. “Get him out of here.” He called out to Javier.
“You’re a great man. Arthur Morgan!” Sean yelled out as he walked away. “The kind a young whippersnapper can really admire.”
“Oh, shut up.” Arthur rubbed a hand down his face. “Right, we should split up. Javier, will you escort Mr. Macguire back to camp? Charles, best you ride separately.”
Charles started making his way to where they had tied Taima.
“Be careful, there’s patrols everywhere.”
“What about you?” Javier turned towards Arthur.
“I’m gonna see what’s worth taking here. I’ll meet you back there as soon as I can.”
With that, Javier went to where Sean was currently seated on Boaz. Alice could see the displeasure on Javier’s face with his riding partner when he was already starting a story for the road. Alice watched as Charles made his way down the hill. She hated that once again they were just going to send him off on his own. She turned to Arthur.
“Well…I’d rather head back to camp now so, I’m gonna ride with Charles I suppose.” She kicked the patch of dirt near her as she looked up at Arthur. He was currently running a hand through his hair, sweaty from his hat. “I’ll see you back at camp?”
Arthur looked at her for a long while before he finally nodded. “Stay safe. I’ll see ya soon.”
She smiled up at him before heading off.
She’d never admit it, but she was looking forward to being back in her uncomfortable bedroll for once.
The ride back to camp went by much faster. They took one night of rest for Charles to help Alice clean the cuts on her cheek. He said they should heal up fine with no scarring. The ride from their camp to Horseshoe they took a little slower just to enjoy the scenery. Charles had let Alice sit up front in the saddle so that he could wrap his arms around her. She didn’t mind. She was thankful that things between them weren’t awkward. She was a little worried that once they acknowledged their feelings towards one another that there would be that limbo one has when they try to navigate the early parts of a relationship.
If that’s what this was. She hadn’t actually asked him. For now she was content with knowing that she didn’t have to worry about her feelings being one-sided anymore.
By the time they reached camp it was late in the afternoon. Javier and Sean were already back in camp, apparently having stopped for drinks on their way so that a party could be thrown. Arthur arrived not too long after and once everyone was accounted for, the night began.
Like Charles, Alice wasn’t that big of a drinker, she liked to at least stay somewhat conscious in case of emergencies. So tonight she resigned herself to simply having one or two beers and nursing them throughout the party.
Javier had other ideas.
Alice wasn’t about to turn down a challenge when it came to who could drink the most shots of whiskey, so when he asked she immediately said yes. They still aren’t quite sure who won.
She immediately regretted it. She wasn’t drunk, per say, but her brain was currently lagging a bit behind. She was singing at the top of her lungs with Karen and Sean while Pearson played his accordion. The notes were a little jumbled but no one cared. Alice’s attention was brought to Arthur who was sitting just out of sight near Dutch’s tent with Hosea. Dutch had turned on his gramophone and was taking Molly out for a spin. Alice’s legs were up before her brain could stop her.
“Arthur!” She sing-songed.
The man looked at her, shaking his head with a grin.
“Yes, Alice?”
“Wanna dance.” She meant to ask it as a question.
Arthur had been pulling a beer to his lips but stopped it just to look at her again.
“I, uh, I ain’t much of a dancer.”
Alice felt a pout forming.
“Come now, Arthur.” Hosea laughed, looking between the two of them. “Be a gentleman and give the lady a dance.”
“Yeah! Dance with me, Arthur.” Alice grabbed his free hand.
With a groan, Arthur tipped his beer back, finishing it off before being pulled into the space in front of Dutch’s tent. Alice heard Dutch say something to Arthur but she didn’t quite catch it. Whatever it was caused Arthur to grumble, his face flushed.
After a few turns on the impromptu dance-floor, Alice was finding herself smiling once more.
“For someone who says they ain’t much of a dancer, you sure is good at it.” Alice looked up at him.
Arthur simply chuckled.
“I think that’s the drink talkin’, sweetheart.”
Alice sighed. “I like it when you call me that.”
Neither of them said anything else, just enjoying the dance until it ended. Alice tried to curtsy, she ended up fumbling a little and that caused her to start giggling uncontrollably. Arthur simply laughed – she wasn’t sure if it was at her or the situation.
“Why don’t you go sit down? Charles is seeming mighty lonely over by the fire.” He nodded in that direction.
Alice turned around far too quickly, causing the world to spin a bit.
“Well, we can’t have him bein’ lonely.” Alice turned back to Arthur. “We should do this again! Perhaps when I’m not such a mess.”
“Alright.” Arthur tipped his hat, his smile soft. “You have a good night, Alice.”
Alice flopped rather unceremoniously on the ground next to Charles’ leg. He was seated on a log, poking the fire. The night seemed to be winding down as everyone started splitting off. Javier was plucking at his guitar by his tent, not playing anything in particular. They were the only three over here at the moment. Alice leaned her head on Charles’ knee.
“Please remind me never to drink with Javier again.” She glanced up at the man in question who simply smirked.
Charles’ laugh rumbled through his body.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He placed his hand on her neck. “You should probably go get some rest. Don’t want a headache in the morning.”
“But I wanna spend time with you!” She leaned back so she could look at him. “You were all ‘someone’s gotta watch the camp while everyone drinks.’ “Her voice lowered in an attempt to match his. “And I didn’t get to see you all night.” She batted her eyelashes up at him earning a smile.
“Yeah. But you had fun though, didn’t you? Saw you dancing with Arthur.” His thumb rubbed circles on her neck.
She nodded. “It was fun, yeah. Next time I’m dancin’ with you though, no excuses!” She poked at his knee.
“Of course.” He laughed as he stood, helping Alice to her feet. “Let’s get you to bed first.”
Alice simply nodded, allowing herself to be guided to her tent. Charles was holding her hand gently. It was warm. She brought her free hand up to place it on the top of their joined ones.
“I’m real happy, Charles.” She leaned into him. “Real happy.”
Her tent wasn’t very far but he seemed to be walking much slower than necessary. Perhaps to prolong their time together. But like all good things, it came to an end. She looked at the front of her tent then back up at Charles.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.” She smiled. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Goodnight, Alice.” He squeezed both of their hands together before letting her go.
Alice’s tent wasn’t much. It was a good enough height for her to stand, probably not the boys if they ever – she stopped that line of thought. She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes and instead just fell down to the ground onto her bedroll. She was out before she even knew it.
#fic: crossroads#my ocs: alice harkins#rdr2#arthur morgan x ofc x charles smith#arthur morgan x ofc#charles smith x ofc#arthur morgan#charles smith
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Tagged by: @afanofeverything5
We’re snooping through your playlists. Set your entire music library on shuffle and report the first 10 songs that pop up. Then choose 10 victims.
1) Lecherous, Senseless, Debauchery | Signor Benedict the Moor
2) Thieves | Ministry
3) High Hopes In Velvet | The cab
4) A portrait of | Sorority Noise
5) Red Roof Inn | Bitch Face
6) Sober | Fidlar
7) I'll Sleep When I'm Dead | Set It Off
8) Ready To Blast - Original Mix | Cyberpunkers
9) Half-Lit | Single Mothers
10) Molly Ringworm | Nuclear Rabbit
#go ahead and do this if you want#i'd love to see it#sorry i don't acrually talk to people here so i can't tag anyone i'm lame#tag meme
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