milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Well, gol-ly."

Kate is smirking by the time she crouches near his table, eyes on the game.

"Is this what the infamous Billy the Kid does in his free time?"

"Helps t'keep practice on things that keep the mind sharp as well as the hands," He says with a grin, looking at her.

"How you doin', Kissin' Kate?"

"That right? Well, sage words comin' from you."

She points out a move she thinks he should take. Not that she's ever played this game before, or has the slightest clue what the object is, of course.

"I ain't complainin', Kid. Though I could if I wanted to," she jokes.

He takes it cheerfully enough, plucking the hopped peg off the board then studies it some more.

"Y'know, someone once told me complainin' is for folks who ain't got a gun t'take care of their problems."

He laughs, and when he looks over at her his eyes are dancing.

"I don't think you're one of them folks."

She smiles wryly, shaking her head as she straightens up and takes the seat opposite him -- after asking his permission, of course.

"I ain't, 'cept for when my love for other folk stills my hand. Far as I'm concerned, there are just some men out there who deserve a bullet 'tween the eyes, but not everybody shares them sentiments."

"Hm."

He nods like he understands, and he does. Sort of.

"Dick wanted t'take those Murphy men we were after in alive, back when we were all deputized. I plugged 'em anyways. Dick got over it."

Sort of.

He didn't live long after the killing started.

"S'at what you call it?"

Yeah, she remembers what happened to Dick. Maybe them Murphy boys had it coming to them, but she remembers the haunted look in Doc's eyes when he told her that story.

She stops a waitrat and asks for a whiskey -- heck, make it two.

"Anyhow, things work lil' differently in Milliways than they do in our wild West, Billy. An' t'be fair, them steppin' in probably saved my life. Don't mean I don't still wish I shot the bastard when I had my gun on his throat, though."

Not that she's explained any of this particular story to Billy yet.

Billy doesn't comment about Dick. She either knows what happened from Doc, or from those dime books she's read. Either way he's not inclined to go down that path tonight.

He's much more interested in what happened to her.

"They work the same, just not as far to run when lawman comes lookin' for you." A pause as he thinks about that a moment, then he laughs. "Well, actually maybe there's more room t'run if you think 'bout the front door an' all the places it can take ya."

Having your life saved does mean something, though, and he's curious about the rest of the story.

"Sounds like you had him dead t'rights, what went on?"

She had been staring at the tabletop and that game of his, eyes somewhat unfocused. His question brings her attention back to his face, and she realizes her mistake.

"Oh. It was... an argument. Over a horse."

That gets a smirk out of her, but she isn't quite feeling it.

"The owner threatened me, I threatened him right back. It ended with our guns drawn. Hopeless, really, fer either of us. Friend of mine came by t'check on me, saw the quarrel, broke us up. Well," she shrugs, "tried to, at least. Ramon wasn't backin' down. I ended up grazin' his guts, an' when he dropped his gun I knocked 'im out.

"Problem with leavin' him alive, though? S'now he wants revenge."

He listens, head cocked to the side a little in an interested manner. By the end his brow is furrowed slightly in confusion.

"So, then you finish it."

Doesn't seem that hard to him.

"Ramon got a lotta friends of his own?"

Maybe that there's the problem.

She shakes her head a little, pleased when the waitrat returns so soon with their drinks.

"So he claims. He ain't got no mortal fear, nor any regard for rules 'r authority, an' now he's alert. There're too many uncertainties, an' too many people involved, now."

Besides, she's not keen on the prospect of getting herself kicked out or killed, neither.

"That's quite a situation y'got yourself in," He comments, all casual like as he helps himself to a glass of whiskey.

"Man like that is gonna come at you hard, given the chance."

"He already has," she sighs, stretching against the chair back as she draws her whiskey to her lips. "Ain't afraid t'hit a woman so as t'make her feel it for days."

There's a dangerous spark in her blue eyes.

"That a fact?"

His eyes scan her quickly, looking for any sign of injury.

"Sounds like a prime candidate for a bullet 'tween the eyes. Short of that, he needs a good beatin', let him know what it's like t'get a lickin' from someone bigger'n stronger than him."

She smirks wryly.

"You'd hafta convince him that there are bigger'n stronger men out there than him, first," she mutters, shaking her head. "He don't think no body can take him down."

Her bruises have long since healed, and they were never as bad as some she's had in the recent past anyway. She's gotten pretty good at dealing with pain.

She don't know if the same holds true for Kate Warner, but the other woman wasn't acting particularly pained despite the ugly mark on her face the other day.

"Just gotta prove him wrong."

Taking another drink, he scratches his nose thoughtfully, then laughs.

"What you need is a pugilist."

She snorts softly.

"You think so?"

"Sure, if you're not gunnin' him down, takin' a few teeth might do ya."

Emptying his glass, he studies the bottom.

"What'd you say his name was again?"

"So long as he don't gun you down for the trouble," she points out with a laugh. "'Sides, I don't know any pugilists."

She catches another waitrat, asking it to bring them a bottle.

"Ramon. Salazar."

It only occurs to her then that it might not have been the best idea to give his name to Billy. Her eyes flick to his face with suspicion.

"He might think he's untouchable, but there's always someone better."

Like Billy, but he's not going to say that, he doesn't even react to being given the man's full name. Instead he sets his glass down and pushes the peg board towards her.

"Give it a try. Point is t'fill up the holes with the pegs 'cept one, then you jump the pegs, takin' them off as you do it, until you got no more jumps. Wanna try and end up with as few pegs on the board as y'can."

There's always someone better.

She nods, though he throws her off by pushing the game her way and suddenly switching gears. He doesn't seem all that interested in Ramon -- which, if Kate knew him as well as Doc does, she might take that as a bad omen. But, since she doesn't, she simply forgets the subject.

"Don't sound too hard," she says, resting one elbow on the edge of the table as she appraises the game. "I've been tryin' t'keep my head down 'round these parts for the last little bit, just in case. Haven't forgotten 'bout our deal, though."

She plucks out the peg she just 'hopped'.

Something dances in his eyes, but it's gone by the time she looks up from the board.

"I was hopin' you hadn't."

"I've lined up a couple guns an' even a safe cracker, if you'll believe it," she informs him, pausing after plucking out two more pegs to shoot him a smug grin.

"Y'have?" His smile widens and this time he doesn't hold back the wicked gleam in his eyes.

"You betcha," she nods, pleased to see the approval on his face. "All we need now's t'git organized, 'n figure out a plan of action. Wade said he'd come help me scout out a good target, but I ain't seen him since all this trouble's been going 'round the Bar."

"Let's do that, then." Billy prefers action to waiting around.

"I'm sure Ben's 'round here some place. Who else we got ridin' with us?"

"Well, y'know Doc was plannin' on it, 'fore his whole..."

She waves her hand around her face vaguely.

"Episode."

She's not thinking about whether or not Billy has seen Doc since he came back to the Bar ten years older. She just assumes, them being such good pals and all, that he has.

"Probably still is. Then we got my friend Bela, an' the safe cracker I met, Amanda. Still gotta talk t'her, though, make sure she's up t'snuff."