(no subject)

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

[OOM]

Joe is sitting in the bar, sipping whiskey and looking thoughtful. He doesn't look averse to company, though; hell, maybe he wants his mind taken off things.

Comments

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

Mina glides down after a few minutes. On her arrival, a letter (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/3253907.html) appears out of the bar. She opens it and smiles. She slides it over to Joe.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

"Hey, good-lookin'. Got a letter?"

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

"All for you. Pity you can't read it . . ." She nods to it. "It's in french."

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe nods. "Have to have Meg check it over. Hope to hell he didn't say I was blond or something." Or that he had all ten fingers, which is admittedly less likely to turn up casually.

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

She looks to the door as Meg enters. "We could go check now . . ."

[balletrat]

*Meg, conveniently, sees them and head over. Amazing timing, that Meg's got.*

'lo, Mina, Joe.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Meg," says Joe. "Nick wrote us the first letter of introduction. You want to look it over, see he doesn't say raise trouble?"

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

She smiles. "Been back home, Meg?"

[balletrat]

*Meg nods.* I just came from Paris - I was doing a favor for a friend.

*She takes the letter and peers at it.* Not bad handwriting, for a guy, *she comments, hypocritically, and starts to read.*

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe waits. He sips his whiskey.

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

She, too, waits.

[balletrat]

*Meg skims up and down it, and finally looks up.*

It looks pretty normal to me - a lot of unnecessary trailing off in bits, but, you know, that's Nick. Definitely usable, and just as applicable to Roland as to you.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe smiles. "Excellent. But we'll need one with a physical description, I reckon. Can your mam do one? You said she'd want to met Roland anyhow."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland's there, with coffee. He looks as though he wouldn't mind trading in for whiskey, though, so he does. "Hile."

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

"Howdy," Joe sips. "Hear you got some good news?"

[lastgunslinger]

"That I did." Roland's smiling. "That I did."

"He remembers."

Any other man would be grinning fit to burst. It's Roland, though, so he just looks happy.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

"So the bastard's dead," Joe says with a small smile. "Cigar?"

[lastgunslinger]

"Say thankya."

And it's lit.

"How are your tricks?"

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

"Pretty good. Meg's got the first letter we need. Now we need one from her mam." Hesitation. "She says you'll have to meet her first."

[lastgunslinger]

"In Paris?"

Roland doesn't look as though he'd mind that very much.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe nods. "Unless she comes here, which I don't know that she does."

[lastgunslinger]

"Good." Pause. "It's a nice city."

Without futher words, he lifts Joe's Colt out of his left holster and puts it in front of the bounty hunter.

"Say thankya."

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe takes it carefully. "Anytime."

[lastgunslinger]

And the Gilead Special is back in Roland's left holster, where it belongs.

Killing's done, for now.

Without further ado, he says, "You're the one who does the cutting."

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe raises an eyebrow. "Yep. So I told Tuco, a few years back. Remember, I told you the scam?"