Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-10-02 07:31 pm
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-10-02 07:31 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Outside, Early morning
They had discussed it. Kate had said she wasn't going to leave the bar until she knew that Bill, Boo, and Kate Warner were safe with Demeter. So when Doc got word that they were leaving, early in the pre-dawn hours when most folks would be sleeping, they agreed to get their belongings in order and see them off.
Satisfied that things were well in hand, she answered with a nod when Doc squeezed her hand, silently asking if she was ready to go.
She paused to drop off a few notes and things with Miss Bar, and once settled, she shouldered her duffel -- stopping to hush the kittens nestled carefully within -- and followed Doc out through the backdoor.
She watched his long strides in the gray light, his black duster occasionally billowing and allowing glances at the gleaming sixshooter at his hip. He reached out for her hand, and she gave it to him -- a bond that felt impossible to sever as they made their way towards a new life.
Together.
.
Satisfied that things were well in hand, she answered with a nod when Doc squeezed her hand, silently asking if she was ready to go.
She paused to drop off a few notes and things with Miss Bar, and once settled, she shouldered her duffel -- stopping to hush the kittens nestled carefully within -- and followed Doc out through the backdoor.
She watched his long strides in the gray light, his black duster occasionally billowing and allowing glances at the gleaming sixshooter at his hip. He reached out for her hand, and she gave it to him -- a bond that felt impossible to sever as they made their way towards a new life.
Together.
.
no subject
No. Way.
And then there isn't time for anything else. There's a flash of pain and then he can't breath and...fuck, he can't breath but he can taste blood and he's seen enough people die to know that this is not good. This is not good at all.
'Bitch.'
It's the only word he can rasp out before he drops. It was an apt word, he feels.
no subject
Even if he can hear her, it is not relevant.
She crouches down beside him, shifting his body so that she can get a good grip and heaves.
There is no way X seems like the kind of girl who should be able to carry a man with ease, but even his height is not that awkward.
The blood makes him a little slippery, and her clothes will need to be burned (they would even if they were not also shot full of holes), but that is all right.
She still has plenty of time to deliver him to the infirmary. Even if their return pace is slower than the speed at which either of them set out.
And X still has an arrest report to write.