The night was still young, distant laughing and music streaming in through a cracked window. On the bed in the room were two bodies, one sprawled out and snoring softly while the other sat at the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette, the smoke dancing through the heavy and humid air of the room.

The man glanced over his shoulder at the snoring man behind him, frowning slightly. What a disappointment.

With a sigh, he rose from the bed, crushing the cigarette in an ashtray on the bedside table before running a hand through his blond hair. This had been such a waste of time, and money for that part, he had been the one who ended up paying for the room after all. Affording it was no problem but it annoyed him, he had gotten absolutely nothing from this encounter.

You win some, you lose some, that was just life but it didn't change the fact that he hated losing, he absolutely hated it.

Another sigh escaped the man, more annoyed now, the more time he spent thinking about it, the more frustrated he felt. He had to get out of here, had to distract himself with something or someone else.

It didn't take much time for the young man to get dressed, pulling on a pair of dark jeans, putting on a light blue cotton shirt, doing up the buttons with quick fingers and tucking in the shirt. Once done, he put on his belt and gun holster, giving his pistol a once over before putting on his boots and jacket. Finally he looked over at the man on the bed one last time while grabbing his hat and putting it on his head.

The other man’s clothes were right there, surely there was something worth money to be found? No, it was a bad idea, the blond had stopped in this town to relax a few days, stealing a few dollars, at most, just because he was annoyed at this stranger wouldn't help him, it would just mean having to get back on the trail a few days earlier than he had planned to.

After a another moment of consideration, weighting his options back and forth, the blond gave the bed a light kick, and then he turned on his heel and left the room with a worse mood than when he had entered it.

~~~

“Elliot? Thought you’d left for the night boy, join us for a game will ya?” A voice called out not long after the man by the name Elliot had entered the saloon for the second time that evening.

“Had some business to tend to, you know how it is,” Elliot chuckled as he made his way over to the table, patting the shoulder of the man who had spoken to him before taking a seat and tossing some money on the table.

The town was small, further away from the bigger towns, the once were Elliot would find wanted posters with his face hung up in all kinds of inconvenient places, and, surprisingly enough, friendly to strangers. He hadn't been planning on stopping anywhere, but he was still recovering from taking a bullet to the shoulder not too long ago, and Lakota, his mare, had seemed tired and in need of rest so Eli had decided they could stay, especially since it had been a long time since he'd seen any signs of someone being after them.

“Your turn boy.”

The blond glanced down at his cards before grinning ever so slightly and pushing a small tower of chips towards the middle of the table, “Raise.”

Playing cards was a great pass time, it was a nice way to wind down and get his mind off the earlier disappointment of this evening. No, instead of dwelling on that, or worry about law men and bounty hunters, he would have a calm evening and empty the pockets on some men twice his age. Playing cards was easy after all, you weren't even playing cards, it didn't matter what you had on hand, all that mattered was the ability to read and play the other people.

He didn't need the money, he had just done a job further down in the country with a few fellers he knew since some years back. Whenever he was around their parts, he would join up with them for some weeks, do a job or two, and get back on the trails. This time they had robbed a train, getting a good amount of money to fill their own pockets, and a couple nice valuables, one of which he now carried in his jean pocket, a gold pocket watch. It was just temporary, he hadn't gotten around to selling it yet.

The job had gone well, as simple and easy as train robbery gets really, that was until one of the people on the train had decided to play hero, firing at them and luckily for Eli, the man had been a terrible shoot, only managing to hit his shoulder.

“Ready to fold now, are ya?”

Elliot looked over at the man across from him, and then glanced at his cards, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips before he managed to mask it.

“No, let’s keep this going a little,” he said as he pushed some chips towards the middle once more, noting the slightest hint of insecurity in the man’s eyes.

The man that had shoot him on the train was dead now, of course, but Eli was left with a nasty wound and a painful shoulder, it was getting better, but that didn't mean it bothered him any less.

It had caused such a commotion too, a train robbery was bad enough but add a few dead bodies and you had half the county sweeping the place for the people responsible. If people would just learn there places, there would have been much less blood on that train, but oh well.

Once the law men had started snooping a bit too closely, the blond had packed his stuff and ran, like he always did, almost slipping away without any problems, if it hadn't been for those two bounty hunters looking for a quick pay out. It was safe to say that they didn't get one, nor would they ever again, but after that encounter, Eli had picked up speed to get out of there and that was how he had ended up in this town after a few days spent running.

A thick layer of dust seemed to lie upon every surface of the town like a suffocating blanket. Kieran grimaced and ran his palm over his face yet again, swiping away the gritty dirt that rubbed abrasively against his skin. Night had long since fallen, and the small town was poorly lit; only a few lamps burned dimly along the pockmarked main street. Kieran found himself peering aimlessly into the darkness from his position along the treeline.

A few blurry figures drifted between the lamps, but they were sucked up into the vast darkness before Kieran could ever get a good look at them. He knew he’d have to move into town to get a better idea of what he was dealing with, but the thought gave him pause. Small towns like this were always more difficult to work with; their residents tended to be more close-knit and often closed ranks at the first sight of a suspicious outsider.

Kieran sighed and turned to Onyx. The mare dozed against a nearby tree, and she snorted softly as Kieran deftly untangled her reins from a low branch. “Sorry, girl,” he murmured quietly. With Onyx in tow, he stepped carefully from the treeline, scanning his surroundings intently before heading for the town’s boundary.

Calling it a town was generous, to be frank. From his position, Kieran had been able to identify a saloon, a general store, and a run-down stable at the edge of town. The rest of the scant few buildings looked to be homes or other miscellaneous businesses. The place made him uneasy; he was much more used to operating in cities or larger towns where he could simply disappear into crowds to avoid attracting attention. Tonight, he was going to have to be much more careful.

His hand drifted into the pocket of his jacket as he walked, fingers tracing the worn paper tucked inside. He’d plucked the flyer from a notice board a few towns back. It was certainly helpful to put a face to a name, and the flyer’s presence meant that the nearby towns were on high alert. He wouldn’t have been surprised if his target had been spotted in the vicinity recently.

Kieran’s boots crunched against the ground as he stepped onto the dried mud that made up the town’s main street. Wrinkling his nose, he picked his way carefully through the road’s many potholes until he stood before the general store. He doubted he’d be lucky enough to run into his target inside, but he needed to stock up on supplies, and he hoped that the store owner might have some gossip to share with him.

Slipping Onyx’s reins onto the hitching post outside, Kieran stepped onto the store’s porch, the rotted boards creaking loudly beneath his feet. The door swung open with a squeal and the soft tinkle of a bell overhead as he ducked inside. The shop owner behind the counter only spared him a brief glance before returning to the item catalogue before him, twirling a worn-down pencil between his fingers.

Kieran wandered towards the shelves lining the back wall of the store. He had plenty of ammunition and medical supplies shoved in his saddlebags, but his food stores were beginning to run low. He plucked a few sachets of dried meat from the shelves, and after a few moments of deliberation, grabbed a can of fruit as well. It was a luxury he could hardly afford, but he was getting tired of eating stringy, painfully dry jerky for every meal.

He took his purchases to the counter, where the clerk finally turned his attention to him fully. He eyed Kieran warily, evidently cautious of the stranger in his shop. Kieran gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just these.” He fished a few bills from his pocket and slid them across the wooden grain of the counter. Glancing up from the small stack of money, he held the shopkeeper’s gaze for a moment before sliding several more bills to him.

The clerk straightened, pulling the bills towards him and counting through them quickly. “You looking for somebody?”

Kieran blinked. “I am. How did you know?”

The man shrugged. “You’ve got that look about you.” He tucked the money beneath the counter and folded his hands before him. “Maybe I can help you out. Point you in the right direction or something.”

Kieran glanced behind him surreptitiously; the shop was still empty aside from him and the owner. He pulled the flyer from its pocket and spread it flat on the counter before the shopkeeper.

Elliott Dunn. Though the reward on the flyer was nothing to scoff at, the sum that Kieran’s client had offered him far surpassed it. The widow of a man killed by Dunn during a train robbery, she had inherited the entirety of his impressive fortune, and had decided to use it to exact revenge on her husband’s murderer. For the amount that she was providing, Kieran was more than happy to help.

The shopkeeper scanned the flyer for several moments before shaking his head. “Sorry. Haven’t seen him around.”

Kieran’s heart sank. He’d been certain he was right on Dunn’s trail. He tucked the flyer back into his pocket, gathered his purchases, and turned towards the door. “Thanks anyway.”

Onyx whinnied at him as he stepped back onto the shop’s porch. “I guess we’re hitting the road again,” he told her glumly, tucking his newly purchased supplies into her saddlebags.

As he adjusted her saddle, preparing to swing back into his seat, the sound of voices from across the road reached his ears. He glanced up to see that he was directly across from the town’s saloon. It was a small, run-down building with a sagging porch, but it seemed busy; a steady stream of patrons passed through the doors, laughing raucously and talking in boisterous tones.

One drink before he headed out wouldn’t hurt, Kieran reasoned. His lack of leads in town had put him in a bad mood, and perhaps it would cheer him up. He patted Onyx’s neck gently. “Be back in a minute.” With that, he hurried across the street, up the groaning porch steps, and through the double doors of the saloon.

The game went on between the group, Elliot quickly learning to read the men he was up against, and while he could have wiped their pockets clean by now, he hadn't. It was tempting, it really was, but it was more important for him to stay friendly with these people. He was going to leave the game with more money than what he came in with, but he would be careful, as boring as that was.

People came and went through the doors of the saloon, and between small talk and keeping up with the game, Eli also kept an eye on the door. One of the perks with a small town like this was that it didn't take long to know who belonged and who didn't. Having spent time getting accustomed to the town and its residents meant he was starting to know who most of them were.

If the situation had been any different and the blond knew he didn't have people on his tail, he might have stayed an extended period, but he would let his shoulder heal up some more and then he would hit the road, after the incident with the train, it was far too risky to stay put. He had no reason to believe that the townsfolk would rat him out, they seemed to like him, and why wouldn't they? But he was still a stranger and it would be dangerous to think that these people would protect him.

Glancing at his cards, Elliot decided to fold. He might have been able to bluff his way into a win but he didn't feel like it, instead he got up and made his way over to the bar and got a round of drinks for the table, returning with the drinks to a cheering bunch of older men. Sometimes, many times actually, it was as simple as that to get people to like you, get them a round of drinks, spend some money on them and they will remember it. There was a fine line though, spend too much money and it got suspicious, the questions on were one would earn such money starting, and once you got caught in that conversation, it was hard to dance out of it.

Eli settled back down at the table, trained fingers rolling a cigarette as he waited for the next round of cards to be dealt. The mood was good tonight, easy and light, and Eli’s own mood was also starting to improve after the evenings earlier disappointment.

Time passed quickly, some leaving the game, either because their pockets had run dry, or simply because they had to get back home to the missus, while new players joined in. The blond, Elliot, remained at his spot by the table, his pile of chips on the table slowly but tactically growing, it would be time to pull out soon and find a place to sleep. With any luck the guy from earlier might have woken up and left the room they had shared? It was paid for the entire night after all.

As the young man sat quietly with his own thoughts, sipping on a drink while weighing his options, he barely noticed as the volume seemed to drop in the saloon, conversations pausing briefly and voices dropping in the same way it had the first time he himself had walked through those doors. People’s attention was drawn towards the stranger walking through the doors, some of the townsfolk staring rudely at the man before catching themselves and looking away.

The moment was over by the time the stranger had reached the bar, people picking up conversations again, although some gazes still lingered on the stranger, Eli’s being one. The young man shifted in his seat, just enough to where he could see the figure out the corner of his eye.

“Someone ya know?” One of the men asked, his voice a bit lower than previously as he leaned closer to the blond.

Elliot raised an eyebrow slightly, caught of guard by the question and confused on the reason for it, “I ain't never seen that person in my life before, sir.”

“We don't get many strangers ‘round here, and then ya show up, few days later, a new feller shows up, smells like trouble to me,” the man grumbled before adding, “Ya ain't bringing trouble to our town are ya?”

Elliot let out a low chuckle and took a sip of his beer, leaning back in his seat again and giving the stranger another quick glance. “Sir, if I was in trouble I wouldn't be playing cards right now, I’d already be halfway out of here,” he then stated, offering a slight smile.

While that answer seemed to satisfy the older man, it didn't satisfy Elliot himself, it was strange and that old man could very much be right. Just as the night had been starting to get good as well, of course…

Reaching up, Eli scratched the back of his neck a little, adjusting his hat at the same time, making sure to push it down in front of his face slight. There were two options now, turn the stranger into someone he knows by finding out what his business here was, or find a way out of the saloon without being seen. He already knew where the back door was, slipping out that way was an option, but then he had to make sure to not be sense by anyone. Or, of course, there was the third option and then one he would go for now, observe. No escape plan just yet, but also no engaging with the stranger, simply looking busy with the game while keeping an eye on the man.

Kieran felt the energy in the saloon shift as soon as he passed through its double doors. It felt like every face in the establishment turned to unabashedly gawk at him, and the hum of multiple conversations dwindled to a mere murmur. Kieran ignored them, striding through the saloon towards the bar. He was used to being met with suspicion while on assignments, especially in small towns like this one. He supposed he couldn’t blame them; their safety likely depended on their ability to trust one another, and the arrival of an outsider disturbed that.

He crossed to the bar, leaning on his elbows against the rough-hewn surface. The bartender eyed him apprehensively, and Kieran nodded at the mug in his hand that he was wiping out with a damp cloth. A minute frown flickered across the bartender’s face, but he turned away from Kieran quickly, directing his attention to the kegs behind the bar.

Kieran took a moment to surreptitiously scan the rest of the saloon. The volume of conversation had mostly returned to normal, though Kieran could make out a few whispered tones that he was certain involved him. A handful of the saloon’s patrons were still staring at him openly, distaste and scepticism written plainly across their faces. Kieran paid them little mind; he’d be out of town soon enough, anyway.

The barkeep returned with his drink, setting the mug down hard enough before him that a few drops of liquid sloshed over its rim. Kieran smiled thinly at him before reaching into his coat pocket and depositing a few coins on the bar.

The barkeep was clearly not keen on Kieran’s presence, so he collected his mug and slid off of the barstool he’d been leaning against. Some of the saloon’s patrons glanced up as he got to his feet, but the majority had paid him no heed. Evidently they didn’t find him interesting enough to keep an eye on. Most of the saloon’s tables were occupied by groups of men who looked as if they’d come directly from work; their skin was still crusted in dirt and mud, and the exhaustion that lingered around their eyes was obvious. Kieran felt a brief stab of pity for them. Life on the frontier was hard, and he was sure it was even more difficult to make a living in such a small settlement. Even so, he gave their tables a wide berth. When the men glanced up at him, the fatigue in their faces was replaced by blatant mistrust.

In the corner of the saloon sat a wider table, occupied by a larger group engrossed in a game of cards. Several spectators were gathered around the table as the game went on, so Kieran wandered over slowly, hoping to blend in with those observing. A few men spared him cursory glances as he approached, but none of their gazes lingered too long on him. He found an open spot by the wall and leaned against the warped wooden boards, cradling his mug against his chest.

Most of the men seated at the table were older, their faces grizzled and hardened with time. Kieran doubted they’d give him any trouble; they were well past their physical prime, and they seemed friendly enough in demeanor. At the opposite end of the table sat a much younger man, his features obscured by the brim of his hat and the dim lighting of the saloon corner.

A few of the older men exploded into raucous laughter, and Kieran felt a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. They were well on their way to getting drunk, judging by the amount of empty mugs scattered around them, and their intoxication would only make them more harmless. His eyes flitted across the group carefully just as the young man across the table glanced up.

Kieran’s breath caught in his throat, and he quickly schooled his features into an expression of neutrality. The man was Dunn, no doubt about it; his unusually pale hair and eyes were a dead giveaway. Kieran took a deep swig of his drink as his mind raced. The men surrounding Dunn were far too relaxed to know that they were in the presence of a cold-blooded killer - that, or they were working with him. Kieran felt an icy bolt of dread cut through his chest at the thought. Dunn was inconspicuous, but he wasn’t trying to hide his identity by any means. Kieran supposed he’d managed to stay ahead of the news of the train robbery thus far.

Kieran certainly couldn’t confront him now. Dunn was an outsider in these parts as well, but the suspicion that the locals treated Kieran with didn’t seem to extend to him. Kieran doubted that he would fall for the guise of a friendly stranger, especially one who approached him in the middle of a card game, and he couldn’t afford to let Dunn slip away as soon as he grew skeptical of Kieran’s intentions.

Waiting him out was the only other option, it seemed. Kieran adjusted his position against the saloon wall and took another sip of his drink. He’d have to follow him once he left the saloon. It was risky; Dunn could be staying somewhere in the town limits, or he could return to a gang of co-conspirators that greatly outnumbered Kieran. It was a gamble he’d have to take.

It would be a lie to say that the stranger’s presence didn't bother him. The other man was right, it did smell like trouble. Of course, it could just be a traveler, hunter, someone looking for work or anything else along those lines, it was just as probable, if not more, as the other option, bounty hunter.

He thought he had been moving fast enough to stay ahead of the words about his involvement in the train robbery, no one here had said a word about it yet, and he didn't find that he had been clumsy enough to leave any trails. Yes, there had been those two bounty hunters but it had been several towns ago, and they could have been after anyone, not just little ol’ him.

Lifting his eyes to catch a glimpse of the stranger now that they had come closer, their eyes met, and just for the briefest moment, Elliot could have sworn he saw a shift in the man’s otherwise neutral expression. He looked away again as the other lifted his mug to his lips, adjusting in his seat and looking at his cards.

It just didn't fit. He didn't fit. If he was meant to be a bounty hunter, he sure didn't look like any bounty hunter Elliot had ever seen. The stranger was too… Pretty. Yes, pretty was the word. The man looked far too pretty and delicate for that line of work, but then the question still remained, what did the man actually do? He looked too delicate for any job that would bring a man out into the middle of nowhere to a one-pony town like this.

Eli’s attention snapped back to the men around him at the table when they broke out in laughter at a joke he had missed, although he didn't let that show, quick to join into the laughter before anyone caught on to the fact that he was distracted. The last thing he needed was to make the people here suspicious of him, he had just spent days gaining their trust, one meaningless stranger wasn't going to ruin that for him.

The game continued, Eli’s eyes not wandering further than to the men surrounding the table, refusing to let the stranger know he was aware of their presence. Still, it took everything in the blond to not glance over at the man again, maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but he swore that he could feel the man’s eyes on him.

For every ticking second, Eli felt himself growing more and more annoyed, even if he was doing a good job keeping his composure, his face remaining calm and relaxed, his fingers gripped the cards just a bit tighter than necessary. God, he hated this. Why had that man shown up now of all times?

With no other options left, Elliot remained seated at the table, playing and sharing laughs with the citizens of this run down place called a town. Time passed, people coming and going, mostly going at this late hour, but one person seemed to remain, that damned stranger. Every so often, Eli would turn his head in a way that made it possible for him to see the man in the corner of his eyes, hoping that the man would have magically disappeared, and each time he would be left disappointed and increasingly annoyed.

Enough time had passed that the man should have been done downing his drink by now, yet Dunn hadn't seen him move, no moves to get a new drink, no moves to leave or even trying to chat up the locals, just quietly watching the game of cards, something that really wasn't that interesting to watch for so long unless you were actually part of it.

Eli folded his cards, watching the others continue while he fished his rolling paper and tobacco out of his pocket, rolling a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag while letting the smoke poison his lungs and waiting for this round to finish.

“Well,” he lightly slapped a hand against his own thigh as he began to rise out of his seat, “I reckon it's time for me to head out, but who knows, might join you fellers tomorrow?”

Shit.

As he stood up straight he could feel his world spinning a bit, the floorboards moving like waves under his feet. He had definitely had a drink too many. For a day that had started so well, it sure had just been going further and further downhill. Glancing at the mugs lining the table, he realized what a mistake he had made being so careless, but then again, he hadn't expected a bounty hunter, or whatever the hell that stranger was supposed to be, to show up and be a problem. Well, potential problem.

He smiled slightly as he gave the man next to him a pat on the shoulder, his eyes moving towards the dealer who counted his chips quickly before handing him his money. With a bow of his head, he stuffed the money into his back pocket, no need to count and make sure it was right, firstly, he didn't care, and secondly, even if he did, he had been too preoccupied with thoughts of the stranger to keep a count.

“The night’s still young, I thought a young lad like yerself would have no problem keeping up with us old timers,” one of the men teased with a chuckle.

“Ah, there's a day tomorrow as well,” Elliot half-smiled as he began turning away, his eyes landing on the stranger and instead of continuing towards the saloon doors, he closed the distance between himself and the unknown man. An idea had popped into his head and as far as plans went, this was currently the best one he had, because it was really the only one he had.

“Besides, I can't go hogging that chair all night, not with this feller standing here and batting his eyes, how about you all try your luck with him,” Eli flung an arm around the man’s shoulders, having concluded that if this was a bounty hunter, the man wouldn't try anything in here, “You look like you play cards, hm?”

Without waiting for an answer, Eli was already ushering the stranger to the chair that he had just risen from, some of the intoxicated men already welcoming the stranger to the table. There were still a few of them that gave the man a suspicious look, but Elliot paid them no mind, he just needed to buy himself a few minutes of time, as long as he could get the stranger occupied for just a few minutes, he would have nothing to worry about.

Best case scenario was of course that this man was just a regular person, passing by and wanting to clench his own thirst, and in that case, Dunn had actually done the man a favor, now the stranger got a chance to actually get to know the townsfolk, maybe even score some extra work if he wanted?

Worst case scenario though, this was truly a bounty hunter and he would tell the others who Elliot really was, but if that was the case, Elliot would, hopefully, already be on his way out of here before they got to that part.

The blond retrieved some of his earlier winnings from his pocket, putting it on the table to pay for the stranger. He remained standing behind the stranger for a moment, hands on the man's shoulder. He definitely didn't hold him on a tight grip, but he might have held on for a moment too long before catching himself, leaning down slightly as the dealer had began handing cards out, “Show these old folk how it's done.”

Giving the stranger a pat on the shoulder, Elliot released his grip on the man, tipping his hat and the others and heading towards the door. He had no clue if the stranger could play cards, and he genuinely didn't care, as long as he was able keep the stranger distracted long enough to make his escape, there would be nothing left to worry about.