AU: Oakville, Texas. The morning after.

[ikissdhimbck]

**NOTE: This is part of a plot arc that was meant to occur in Milliways over the Spring/Summer of 2011 in Bar Time. It has since become an AU, and should be treated as a standalone plot not associated with any game, and not fitting into Kate's continuity.**



Kate doesn't sleep well. Once she gets to her room and undresses (for the last time tonight), slips on her chemise, and slides into bed (alone), she finds she can't stop playing their conversation out again and again. As she stares at the ceiling in her darkened room, driving their words so deep into her memory it'll be a while yet before she can erase them, she finds herself growing more and more agitated.

Stupid man.

Stupid drink.


Stupid her.


She wakes up later than she normally does. The light outside her window is already starting to yellow, hinting closer to seven o'clock than to six. She rises and gets dressed, mind still cranking, making sure she looks a smidgen more 'respectable' than when they first rode in. More womanly. More businesslike. And by the time she's finished she has a rehearsed speech all set in her mind. This constant arguing is pointless, and she won't do it anymore.

She steps out into the hall, catching sight of her wearied boots on worn and shabby carpeting. The rug was likely quite fine in its day, but like the knotted old wood it's trying to hide it's grown bedraggled and thin. She contemplates knocking on his door and quickly dismisses the idea. Her day doesn't hinge on whether or not Gene Hunt is happy with her.

She makes her way down to the dining room where the senorita from yesterday is cleaning shot glasses and tumblers, asks for a hot breakfast, and sits herself down at a table.

"Has my associate been down this mornin'?"

"No, ma'am. Only you."

Kate nods.

And waits.



By noon Gene still hasn't come down. She wonders if this is ordinary for him, but she's run out of reasons to linger in the bar without looking like a fool. She leaves a few coins for the barmaid, and debates whether she should go on and head out and just hope he gets the idea whenever he comes to. No. Things are mendable, ignorable, and shouldn't be left to fester simply because of their pride.

She scales the stairs and stops in front of his door, takes a breath, and resists rolling her eyes. She reminds herself that this is the last time this is going to happen. By god, this is the last time. And she knocks.

There's no answer.


She knocks again.


Perhaps he slipped out early, and no one noticed he left? She figures he wouldn't bother to tell her, especially if he's upset about last night. He could've just decided to take a look around town, or — 

Her heart sinks.


Or he could've gone back to The Bar.


She opens his door — it's unlocked, just like he said it would be — and takes a look inside.

"Gene?"

He's definitely not here. Perhaps it should be comforting to note that his bags are still in the room. It doesn't look like he bothered to pack or clean up. But he's gone, along with his coat, which leaves only two equally unhappy possibilities. He's gone back to Milliways, left, had enough of her and this; or he's out, and likely been out all night. All night with...


She rubs at her forehead. Sighs heavily. Sits on the edge of his bed and just... just sits.

Her rehearsed apology and the amendment she planned to offer suddenly feel utterly childish. She feels utterly childish, for so whole-heartedly believing she was going to set things right. For actually believing, after so many failed attempts to overcome her doubts, her worries, this  —  this curse she can't ignore despite how fervently people tell her to, that she could get it together long enough not to mess another good thing up.

She considers feeling angry. For the briefest second, she does. But then all she feels is disappointed. It was never going to be part of the deal to let him in enough for her to get hurt. She wasn't going to care when everything went to hell. And eventually it would, she knew that, and that was okay. It is okay. This all blew up in their faces, just like it was always going to. And she's still okay with it. It's fine.


Just don't mind the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach.

Comments

[the_gene_genie]

He turns up eventually. He always does, much to the disconsternation of most of the criminal scumbags of Manchester.

Of course, he's rather drunk when he appears. Rather dishevelled, and certainly looking tired. Also, surprised to see her in his room.

'Oh.'

A beat, which turns into a much longer pause, while he blinks and becomes aware of the light in the windows.

'Time passed.'

Duh.

[ikissdhimbck]

She jumps ever so slightly when he appears at the door.

She's so utterly surprised to see him, she doesn't even think about masking the shine in her eyes.





"Miss Bar let you back out."

That's where he was, wasn't it? Otherwise he wouldn't be so surprised to see the daylight, unless he's even drunker than he looks. Still, she didn't think that was possible without her there to open the door.

She has the presence of mind to look away, and realize she's sitting in his room.


"I'll let you..."

Do whatever it is he was planning on. Sleep it off, likely.

She gets up and heads to the door. Of course, she can't get out until he moves.

Awkward.

[the_gene_genie]

He doesn't move. He just leans on the wall.

'You been here all nigh'?'

[ikissdhimbck]

She watches his shoulder hit the wall, and then she eyes him.

"No. It's after noon here."

She's seen him in a state once or twice, but nothing quite like this before.

"I was lookin' for you."

[the_gene_genie]

'Well, look. You found me.'

He blearily lights a fag, then scrubs a hand over his face. He's pissed, sure, but maybe not as bad as she thinks. He looks terrible because he's been up all night. Well. And beause of the drinking too, of course.

[ikissdhimbck]

"I did. Ten pounds heavier than when I left you, I'd reckon."

She's treading very, very carefully.

"Did you not go t'bed last night?"

[the_gene_genie]

He just gives her a look, and walks past her to the bed. She doesn't get to nag. She's not his wife.

'I'm not havin' another row. If you've come for one, I'm not interested.'

[ikissdhimbck]

She was just asking. His rush to leap to defensiveness makes her think maybe he is looking for a fight.

Fine.

"I didn't come for one."

The path to the door is clear, and so she takes it. Let him sleep it off. If she's looking for a decent conversation, she's not going to find it with him grouchy and her still smarting.

[the_gene_genie]

Well, if she's going to be like that...

Fine.

He shrugs his jacket off, stubs his fag out and flattens himself onto the bed. Anything she wants can bloody wait.

[ikissdhimbck]

She heads out while he, hopefully, goes to sleep. The whole morning is wasted now; no need to let the afternoon and evening suffer the same fate.

She checks in on the horses and has a stern conversation with the stable manager. It's not one he entirely deserves; the horses are in good order, as is their tack. She only has a few requests and questions that come out more clipped than she means for them to. Still, she feels slightly better after that, and continues to nose around town. She runs into a few of the gentlemen they came across yesterday and is as pleasant as you please, until her foot comes upon the boardwalk outside one saloon in particular.



A few hours later she comes back to the hotel, well after dark. There's a tear in her sleeve and sawdust on her riding skirt, but she marches to the bar as if all is right as rain and orders a hot meal. She sits at a table in the corner and collects herself until her food is ready.

[the_gene_genie]

He sleeps the whole afternoon, flat on his back and barely moving. Early evening too; he only wakes really because of some loud voices in the street outside, and only gets up because he desperately needs a piss. Not a chance in hell he's using the chamberpot though, so he has to go downstairs. By the time he's done, he figures he's up, so he might as well eat, wash and have a hair of the dog.

He's just ordered his dinner, and paid for a bath for after, when he sees her. And he's not going to avoid her, or do anything as childish as go and sit somewhere else. He catches sight of the state of her as he sits down, and instantly frowns.

'What happened to you?'

[ikissdhimbck]

She doesn't see him come in, but once her good sleeve is rolled up and she's begun working the torn one to match, she glances up to catch his approach. He looks moderately better than he did at noon.

She waits until he sits before she glances away again.

"Your gentleman friend from last night has some unpleasant counterparts 'round town."

Three of them, to be precise.

"I ducked into the saloon at the north end of town an' he weren't too happy t'see me again."

[the_gene_genie]

'...they wen' after you?'

Well, that's his evening planned, then.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Technically they were already there."

She doesn't appear too rattled, because she knew the saloon was rough going in. She'd gotten the name off one of the men she met before she came back to Milliways to fetch Gene. Someplace where she could rustle up some information, make some contacts.

"It was nothin' worse than what happened last time. Put a girl in a boy's playpen an' they'll start tuggin' on her braid."

[the_gene_genie]

'Right.'

He sounds neutral. Not indifferent, but neutral.

He's totally not going to bother with that bath. Not until after he's ripped their bollocks off and forced them down their throats.



'What did you want to say, earlier?'

His dinner arrives at that point, and he digs in, as though the row last night had been nothing more than a tiff over paying for drinks, or something.

[ikissdhimbck]

She watches him for a moment, and then glances around the room. A few sets of eyes quickly glance away.

"I wanted t'offer some kind of middle ground. Seein' as how we have trouble communicatin'."

She hasn't forgotten the words she rehearsed, but figures it's better to save them for a moment when there's less chance of being overheard. She sets into her meal.

"It can hold 'til later."

[the_gene_genie]

'Middle ground.'

He's heard of the concept, but tends not to hold much truck with it. Not since he chucked Stephen Warren in the nick, anyway. And it's hard to imagine what middle ground there can be in this case, but he'll hear her out.

'Well, I've just got t'step out after dinner. After that, I'll be all ears.'

[ikissdhimbck]

"All right."

A few moments pass in silence.







"...You've gotta step out after dinner?"

[the_gene_genie]

He pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth, and flicks his eyes up to meet hers.

'Yeah.'

He doesn't want to outright lie about where he'll be going, but he will if he has to.

[ikissdhimbck]

He doesn't have to answer to her. It's just that his wording is odd.

Where would he have to go?

"All right."

She gives him a wary look, but returns to her meal.

"I reckon y'don't need me to come with you?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Nope.'

It won't be long until he's done, the way he's shovelling this down. Bloody ravenous he is, seeing as he didn't finish dinner last night and didn't eat much of anything in the bar either. Doing wonders for making him feel more human though - or perhaps that's just the whiskey.

'You goin' to be around here then tonigh', or are you goin' out again?'

She doesn't have to answer to him either, after all.

[ikissdhimbck]

"I planned on cleanin' myself up. Didn't think too hard on whether or not I'd head back out afterwards."

She had at least meant to see where they stood before she spent the whole night out galavanting.

"Reckon I'll be here when you get back, unless y'plan on bein' gone a while."

[the_gene_genie]

'Nah, won' take that long.'

He chucks his fork down and wipes his mouth. It's only when he's standing that he pauses, and looks down at her.

'You'll be alrigh' here then?'

[ikissdhimbck]

That... that was just about the last question she expected to hear from him at this moment.

"Yeah."

Maybe there's hope for them after all.

"Yes, I'll be fine. Be careful out there, all right?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Keep tellin' you, luv. Indestructible.'

He walks out of the place with a spring in his step, pausing only to tell the bird behind the bar to put his bath on hold for half an hour. She flirts something back, which he ignores, and heads for the street, pushing his hat back on his head as he goes. He knows where that bar is, and he hopes to hell the bloke's still in there.

He's not shy about entering, slamming through the swinging doors like he owns the place, like all those lawmen of old do in the movies. He stops like they do too, scanning the room for his intended victim. Got to be in here somewhere.