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verai-marcel · 3 years

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Firsts & Lasts (RDO Fanfic, Mateo x Min, 18+)

Summary: Before she was Verai Marcel, she was Hui Min, servant of the powerful Lin family in San Francisco’s Chinatown. She meets Mateo Delgado, a bounty hunter who will become the biggest part of her life. She just doesn't know it yet.

Author’s Notes: I'm using the pinyin spelling and Mandarin pronunciation of Min's name, but the Chinese who lived in San Francisco's Chinatown in the 1880s were predominantly Cantonese speaking. I've done some research, but I'm definitely not an expert on this time period. Given that this takes place in the Red Dead universe, I’m making an alternate history and working that into my story. Also stealing from myself, since I took Grace’s backstory and altered it for my RDO OC, haha.

Tags: RDO OC, period racism, some historical inaccuracies, smut, 10 year age gap, tragedy, character death

Word Count: 4415

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San Francisco, 1889

Mateo rode through San Francisco, eyes wide like a child's as he took in the city. He hadn't been to such a large city before, having mostly stayed in Southern California his whole life. But after his brother died, he had to get away from everything familiar. He even shaved his mustache, cut his hair short, and started going by his nickname, the name his mother would call him when they had been living near the San Pasqual Valley.

He took off his drifter hat and ran a hand through his shorter hair. Fanning himself for a minute before fitting his hat back onto his head, he looked around at the roads, the people, the closeness of everything, and shuddered slightly. It was too crowded for his liking, but he had to make some connections here so he could start getting better bounty jobs. His wallet was starting to look a bit thin. As he passed the hotels in town with their fancy signs, he had the distinct feeling he couldn't afford even two hours in these places.

Riding onwards towards the police station, he spotted a group of bounty hunters milling around outside the front doors. Furrowing his brow, he dismounted and led his horse over to a hitching post. Mateo pat Paco's neck before taking his muzzle between his hands and stared his companion straight in the eyes.

"Now you behave, Paquito."

His horse, as if he knew that Mateo was making fun of him, huffed in his face.

Laughing, Mateo gave him one last pat before heading over to the group of men. Tapping one of them on the shoulder, he asked what was happening.

"Big hunt happening today," the man said before turning back around, dismissing him.

Mateo didn't have time to be offended. The doors opened and two officers came out with a stack of papers. Handing them out to each man, one of the officers shoved a paper into his hands without a word.

He noticed the poorly drawn faces, caricature-like in quality. The pictures were of three Chinese men accused of opium smuggling.

As the crowd dispersed around him, Mateo kept reading the fine print.

Women and children may be living with them. Bring them in alive to be deported.

Mateo curled his lip. He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

As he mounted up and started heading towards Chinatown with the rest of the hunters, he questioned whether or not he should do this job. But as his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't had money for a decent meal in weeks, he took a deep breath and decided to move forward. He had to eat.

And at least if he was there, maybe he could help spare the innocent.

***

"Siu Jeh, we have to go, now," Min said in a rush, hurriedly packing her mistress's clothes in a bag.

"But I still need to pack all of my makeup–"

"There's no time," she interrupted, grabbing the young woman's wrist and pulling her towards the door. "The train leaves for Vancouver in an hour. We still need to get to the train station without being spotted."

The woman pulled her wrist back and slapped Min across her cheek. Not hard, but enough to shock her.

"I know that! You don't have to pull me along like some errant child."

Min kept her eyes down and just nodded as she mumbled an apology. But you are certainly acting like one, she thought to herself.

***

Mateo leaned against a post, watching as the train started to let on passengers. He knew that if the Lin men wanted to escape, the best way would be to sneak out and board this train headed for Canada.

He had talked to some of the officers along the way to Chinatown, and had gotten some news that the city was trying for any excuse to get rid of what they called "the yellow threat." Mateo hated the term and hated what they were trying to do. He had grown up in a town with a decent number of Chinese immigrants and had found them to be decent, hardworking, and frugal people.

But what did anyone care about what he thought? They only cared when he was taking down dangerous criminals that threatened their land. If he wasn’t being useful, he was as good as dog meat.

As his eyes wandered around the passengers, one man stood out amongst the crowd. With his traditional garb and long braided queue, he looked like many of the other Chinese men boarding the train, but the shimmering silk of his inner coat gave away his status. Glancing down at his bounty poster to be sure, Mateo started to make his way through the crowd towards the man.

When the man spotted him coming towards him, he casually started to move away towards the edge of the crowd, but Mateo could tell he had figured out that he was being followed. Seeing the man give a quick shake of his head, he suddenly felt several other men starting to crowd him, slowing his progress.

Mateo quickly ducked and snaked his way out of the crowd, leaping onto crates that lined the boarding area. Men began to point at him and mumble, but he kept his eye on his target.

Then he heard a shot being fired into the air. Passengers ducked and began to scramble away from the source of the sound, chaos erupting in mere seconds.

Turning his head, he saw one of the younger bounty hunters, a wicked grin on his face.

Damn kids, don’t know how to do anything.

Looking back at his bounty, he was surprised to see him surrounded by four women who were quickly ushering him onto the train. Two women who looked older were pushing him forward, while the other two younger women followed behind.

The younger bounty hunter charged forward, his gun aimed in front.

Mateo acted without thinking.

“Don’t shoot at them, idiota!” he yelled, leaping off the crate and barreling after the man. “We’re not supposed to kill them!”

The young hunter didn’t listen to him, quickly firing two shots, aiming high. Their bounty ducked onto the train, followed by the older women as the train started to move from the station.

One of the younger women turned back to look at her pursuers for a moment. In that time, the other woman shoved her off the train step, shrieking something in her language before disappearing further into the train.

Mateo’s heart stopped as he watched her stumble from the moving train, her face in shock.

The other hunter got closer, his gun suddenly aiming lower, towards the woman.

“No!” Mateo shouted, reaching out for him.

He never got a chance.

In a burst of speed, the woman charged forward, knocking the gun out of the man’s hand with a whirlwind kick. The sound of cracking bones echoed in the air as the man pulled his hand back with a pained yelp, followed by a grunt and whoosh of air leaving his lungs as he was kicked in the solar plexus. He doubled over, clutching his torso in pain. Without pause, the woman twirled back around and landed a devastating kick to the back of the man’s head, bringing him down to the ground before she leaped up and landed on his back, forcing him prone. She stomped on the back of his neck again, a loud crack sounding far too final for Mateo’s ears.

The woman looked up at him and met his eyes. She looked cold, calculating, and far too young to be used to doing this sort of thing. Mateo held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said quickly, wondering if she could even understand him.

The sound of the train whistle blowing nearly blocked out the thunder of other people coming closer to the train platform. They both turned to see the other hunters running their way; they must have figured out the train escape plan by now.

The other woman quickly turned and fled.

Without thinking about why, Mateo chased after her. Behind him, people were leaping onto the train car, getting inside, chasing down the actual bounties. But Mateo only chased the mysterious woman, following her along the train tracks as she desperately tried to get back to the same train car.

Pulling out his bolas, he waited for the right moment, knowing that if he threw them poorly, she might get caught under the train as she fell. He saw his chance and flung them with practiced ease. The bolas flew through the air, catching her legs and making her tumble forwards and away from the train.

As he caught up to her, he saw her reach down to untangle herself. Kneeling down to look at her, he waited a moment before speaking.

“Hey,” he said softly.

A fist shot out at him. He barely dodged.

“Whoa, hold on, I said I’m not here to hurt you!”

“Then what is this,” the woman snarled in slightly accented English, pointing down at her feet.

“You speak English?”

“Yes, do you?”

Mateo grimaced. “Fair point.” He stepped back. Looking at her, in her light blue blouse and trousers, her black slip-on shoes and socks, and her long black hair dirtied from tumbling down in the grass, he felt a little sorry for her.

“Listen, I can take you back to your family. Where were you headed?”

She looked up at him with a critical eye. “You just want to know where they went so you can bring in the bounty.”

Mateo shrugged. Points to her for figuring out a classic strategy. “We only want the men. The women and children were not to be harmed.”

“Forcing us to leave our home is harm, don’t you think?”

He scratched his chin. This woman was pointing out the thing he didn't want to think about, he could give her that. He was regretting taking this job; he didn’t like this kind of work. Sighing heavily, he sat down across from her and watched as she continued to untangle the bolas. Finally she stopped and looked up at him, looking lost.

“If I don’t take you to them, what will you do with me?”

Mateo thought for a moment. “Well, the other hunters got onto the train. They probably caught him by now. Maybe I’ll take you back to your mother and sister.”

“They were not my mother and sister.”

He blinked. “The girl who pushed you out of the train? Who was she then?”

“My mistress.”

Mateo raised an eyebrow. “So you were, what, her servant?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Ah, I see.” After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, “Do you want to go back?”

The woman tilted her head and stared past him for a few moments. “No, I guess I don’t.” She lay back on the grass and let out a heavy sigh. “Guess I’m free of them, finally.”

Mateo’s heart clenched a bit. To say that she was free meant that she had no choice but to serve. He reached for her ankles to free her from the bolas, but she quickly grabbed his wrists and twisted.

“Ouch, hey, do you want out of these or not?” he bit out, his voice strained.

The woman let him go, but stared at him distrustingly. He slowly undid the bolas and put them back onto his belt. Holding out his hand to her, he waited patiently while she looked at him like he was the dirt beneath her feet.

He was used to that look, so it didn’t bother him. He just waited.

Finally she took his hand and he helped her up.

“What’s your name?”

“Min.”

“I’m Mateo,” he replied. “If you don’t want to go back to your… mistress, then what do you want to do?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been asked that before.”

Mateo swallowed. “Never? Not once in your entire life?”

Min shook her head.

“How… how old are you?”

“19.”

He was almost ten years older than her. Remembering how ignorant he was at that age, he felt the need to help her. Unable to stop himself, he patted her head comfortingly. “Well, I’m asking you now. What do you want to do with the rest of your life?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what the options are for me.”

Mateo frowned. As a Chinese woman, she had very few options if she were by herself.

Remembering how she had taken down that other hunter, he quickly came to a decision.

"I could train you to be a bounty hunter."

She looked at him. "What does that entail?"

He grinned. He was looking forward to having an apprentice.

***

Six months had passed in the blink of an eye. Min was smart, snarky, and strong. In exchange for bounty hunter training and showing her how the outside world worked, she trained him in Wing Chun, solidly kicking his ass for weeks before he finally managed to block successfully.

Mateo did notice that she had some weaknesses. She didn't know when to ask for help. She didn't know when to voice her opinion and would just suffer quietly. When he got mad at her once for not telling him about a wound, she had flinched away.

He vowed not to yell at her again, not like that, but he had to admit, he tended to lose control when it came to Min's wellbeing.

***

"Min, you have to tell me these things so I can help take care of you," he said gently after seeing her curl in upon herself after his chastisement. He hadn't yelled at her this time, but he had lectured her on why he needed to know her health. She had a terrible habit of hiding her wounds.

"Alright," she mumbled.

"Now let me see your arm," he said.

They had spent the past six months in the same tent, lying side by side, giving each other enough privacy that they had not seen each other with less than a shirt and pants on. So for Mateo to suddenly demand this of Min made her feel shy, despite their relative comfort level with each other.

"Do I have to?"

"We have to treat the wound or you'll get infected. Then it'll just get worse, and you might die."

"I know."

"Then tell me when you're hurt."

She sighed. "Fine." Slowly unbuttoning her shirt, she pulled her arm out of her sleeve with some difficulty.

Mateo held his breath. She was wearing her halter top chemise, one of the clothing items she had from her past life. It exposed her back, and in the light of the campfire, he could see the light scars of a whip criss crossing her back.

"Oh, Min," he said sadly, reaching towards her and gently brushing his fingers along one of the scars. "Why did they do this to you?"

She shrugged. "I took the whips for my mistress when she was disobedient so she could stay unblemished for her future husband."

Mateo saw red for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he focused on gathering the medical supplies from his saddle bag and took care of her wound, cleaning and dressing it in silence.

"I wasn't meant for marriage anyway," Min said after he had finished putting the supplies away. "I was just a servant."

"You're more than that," he said as he helped her back into her shirt. "You're a bounty hunter now. One day you'll be one of the best. You'll get job offers across the states, you'll see."

She was silent for a few moments, taking in his words. Then she looked at him curiously before speaking.

"Mateo."

"Yes?"

"Why are your letters addressed to Matthew?"

Mateo swallowed. He hadn't told her that he was one of the Delgado brothers, the famous pair of bounty hunters that had taken down gang after gang of outlaws across four states. He'd laid low for almost a year, hopefully long enough for the gang that killed his brother to think he was dead too.

But she wouldn't tell anyone. She'd proven herself to be a tactful partner.

"Mateo is just a nickname that my mother called me. My real name is Matthew Delgado."

When Min's face remained blank, he tilted his head slightly in disbelief. "You, uh, never heard of that name?"

"Why would I have? I grew up in Chinatown."

Of course, why did he think she'd know? He chuckled to himself, feeling foolish for thinking he was more infamous than he actually was. Reaching out to her, he gently grasped her shoulder and pulled her against him in a friendly side hug.

She stiffened for a moment, but didn't fight his embrace. To his surprise, she leaned closer to him, her head leaning against his shoulder. He looked down and saw her eyes flutter shut, a soft, shy smile on her lips.

His heart shifted.

He had always looked at her as a pupil, a partner, a friend.

Now he saw her as a woman, with her pleasant curves beneath his hand, her softness pressing against his body. When she looked up at him, her dark eyes full of trust, his body reacted on pure instinct.

He gently gripped her chin and guided her head to just the right angle. Without a second thought, he leaned down and kissed her.

She was sweet, soft, innocent.

Mateo's hunger stirred, and he deepened the kiss, his lips moving along hers, craving her every soft breath. His tongue flicked out to run along her lower lip before he pressed his forehead against hers and opened his eyes.

He was met with her surprised gaze. Quickly moving back, he felt ashamed that he had given into his base desires. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

Min just nodded, growing very quiet. He watched her shrink in on herself, and knew that she was thinking poorly of herself again.

"It's fine," she whispered. "I understand."

"No, you don't," he said immediately. "I'm 10 years older than you. You deserve someone better than an old man like me."

Min looked at him. "But you're the best man I've ever met," she said sincerely. "I'd happily give my first time to you."

Mateo's heart suddenly started pounding erratically. Lord, did she have any idea what she was doing to him? A possessive feeling began to curl around his soul. He could almost hear a whisper in his mind, covetous, dark, lustful.

Make her yours. Take her, mark her, teach her to be your woman.

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to shut out the darkness in his heart.

Then he felt her hand on his clenched fist. Opening his eyes to look at her, he found solace in the kindness in her eyes.

"I trust you, Mateo. Please."

He had been so close to regaining control of his desires, but her soft words were his undoing.

In the space of a heartbeat, he fell upon her like an animal, pressing her into the bedroll, his cock growing hard against her thigh as he kissed her. When he pulled away for breath, part of him rejoiced at the disheveled look of her.

Part of him was disgusted by his barbaric reaction. He moved back and held her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks, her hair, the curve of her ear. Why had he never noticed her beauty before?

No, it wasn't that he hadn't noticed, it was that he had been ignoring his feelings. He had known from day one that she was beautiful. But he had set aside everything to keep her at arm's length. It had been hell on his libido, and every time they had stayed near a town, he had disappeared into a red light district to slake his lust on a willing worker, but it had never been enough. Never enough.

Now, the one he truly wanted was in his arms, under his body, and he was in heaven.

"You're so beautiful, Min. I'm losing control."

Min wrapped her legs around him, the rough fabric of their pants keeping them apart, allowing Mateo to maintain his wits for a few seconds more.

"I want it all, Mateo. I want all of you."

He cursed under his breath as he pulled away and fumbled with her pants and drawers, revealing her to the open air. It was a nice summer night, a soft breeze in the air. Under the moonlight and with the campfire, she looked like a goddess, just for him. He shifted lower so he could kiss his way down her body.

Min ran her fingers through his thick hair as he settled himself between her legs. Pressing her thighs apart, he dove in, his lips wrapping around her core. His tongue stroked her languidly, a low hum vibrating against her sensitive bud.

"What are you doing to me?" she gasped as her hips bucked against his face. She grabbed his hair and mewled softly when he slipped a finger along her lower lips.

"Gettin' you ready for me, sweets," he said as he pressed a finger inside of her.

All she could do was moan as he stretched her, pressing a second finger inside, working in and out of her. He pressed his thumb to her clit and stroked her in tandem with his fingers, until she was sweating and trembling. Lifting himself up, he stroked the hair off her forehead and kissed her lips, making her taste herself.

"Look me in the eyes, baby."

She did as she was told. Her pupils were blown out with desire as he pushed her higher and higher. Her legs stiffened and her hands gripped his muscular arm. She was panting hard, her chest heaving as she felt a wave coming to overtake her.

"Let go for me, let me see you come apart," Mateo commanded in a deep rumble.

Min's back arched as she came, her body going rigid for a moment before she spasmed, her channel milking his fingers. Mateo watched her throw her head to and fro as she cried out, her grip on his forearm keeping his hand in place, her hips rocking on his hand, slick with her juices.

"Fuck, I have to have you, now," he gritted out as he quickly reached down to free himself from his pants. Wasting no time, he rolled on top of her and thrust inside her wet, pliable body.

Min cried out, and Mateo stopped moving. He felt guilty for taking her so roughly, forgetting in a moment of uncontrolled lust that this was her first time with a man. He got onto his haunches and touched her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry—“

Min lifted her hips and forced him further inside of her.

"Take me, 'Teo."

Hearing her soft plea flipped a switch inside of him. His hips moved like a machine, pounding hard into her, his cock harder than it had ever been in his life. She made him so hot and possessive, he could barely breathe.

"My sweet girl," he murmured. "Mine, all mine. I won't let anyone else have you."

"I won't let anyone else have me either," she breathed, her hips lifting to meet his every thrust.

Mateo embraced her, holding her close as their bodies rocked together, becoming one in their pursuit of connection. He groaned as he felt himself fall apart, his hips crushing hers into the bedroll.

"Min, sweet Min," he moaned as he came, losing himself to joyous ecstasy. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, and just as much as he was protecting her, she held him close and sheltered him from the world.

"I never want to leave your arms," he said after he caught his breath.

"I feel the same, 'Teo," she said, running her hands up and down his strong back. Her fingers ran along his scars, and he shuddered at the light, sensual touch.

He would never want another woman ever again. Min was the only one for him.

Forever more.

***

New Austin, 1898

The sky was orange, like fire had been set on the horizon. Min sat near the familiar headstone, brushing her hands along the worn stone, her fingers tracing the name she had slowly carved herself over the years.

"'Teo," she murmured. "I finally finished your headstone." She looked down for a moment. "With some help. You always said I never learned to ask for help. But I finally did."

She heard footsteps come up behind her, and didn't even turn around. She knew who it was.

Everett set down a small wreath of wildflowers on the grave in front of her before sitting down next to her.

"I think he'd be happy with this," he said.

They looked at the headstone together, the roughly carved words worn in different levels as they were added over the years.

MATEO DELGADO

1860-1894

BOUNTY HUNTER, LOVER, FRIEND

"How're you feeling?" Everett asked, watching her carefully. He knew how much she disliked expressing her more complicated emotions, but he also knew that if he didn't help her process them, she would let them fester until she burst.

She was quiet for a moment, looking up at the sky. "I feel at peace. Like I'm finally able to let him go."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "And do you feel that he'd be happy for you?"

Min smiled. "Yes. He'd probably say, 'sweets, you took too damn long to figure yourself out'," she joked. She chuckled softly before turning to Everett with a lonely smile. "Mateo possessed me, heart and soul."

Everett nodded. He had seen her when she was lost in her grief, late at night when she thought he was asleep. He had seen her curled up in a ball, shaking with the effort not to cry. It had broken his heart to see her like that, and it had taken him months to coax her into talking about it.

Min took his hand and squeezed it in return. "Will you do the same?"

"Of course, sweetheart. If you trust me to do so."

She smiled at him, dazzling like the river of stars in the night sky. "I trust you, Everett."

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End Notes: So I definitely mixed and matched some history and geography here. San Pasqual Valley is where the city of Ramona is located, named after the titular character of a book about the hardships of living as a mixed race woman, the plight of the Native Americans, and the racism inflicted on the main characters. The town that Mateo grew up in is a reference to Mexicali, a city in Mexico that has a large Chinese immigrant population. Of course, that city didn't exist yet in this time period, but I’m just jamming historical things together to make up an alternate history, since the Red Dead world is an amalgamation anyway. If you’ve read this far, thank you so much for reading this! I know it’s not my typical tale, but I really wanted to tell some of Mateo’s story.

#rdo oc #writing #everett osborn #verai marcel #everett x verai #Mateo Delgado #mateo x verai

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verai-marcel · 3 years

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Counting Stars (RDO OC X OC SONGFIC, 18+)

Summary: Everett chases down Verai after their first night together.

Author’s Notes: I haven’t written a song fic in years. Was suddenly inspired. Let’s do this.

Tags: old timey racism, song fic, rdo oc x oc, pining, love, mild angst, campy as hell, some vague smut

Word Count: ~1270

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~Lately, I been, I been losin' sleep

Dreamin' about the things that we could be

But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard

Said no more countin' dollars, we'll be countin' stars

Yeah, we'll be countin' stars~

Everett stared up at the night sky, his bedroll feeling scratchy underneath him as he shifted his legs. Stuck in the Lemoyne heat, he had taken off everything except for his short drawers and laid down with no fire, just the moonlight and the fireflies providing illumination.

But as he stared at the full moon, he could not find the answers he sought. For days he had been pursuing Verai, chasing after her like a shadow chases after its caster, always close but never able to touch. Ever since he had spent that one glorious night with her, she had fled, avoiding him at every turn.

He replayed that night for the millionth time, trying to figure out what he could have said that would have scared her off. Not much scared that woman, but apparently whatever he had done had freaked her out enough to hide from him. He was a good tracker so he managed to stay on her trail for this long, but she was getting better at hiding. She was avoiding towns that didn’t have many of her people, for she knew that someone would quickly notice a Chinese woman around town and gossip about an outsider.

~I see this life, like a swingin' vine

Swing my heart across the line

In my face is flashin' signs

Seek it out and ye shall find~

Everett didn’t know when he thought she was the one, didn’t know when he had fallen so hard that he couldn’t get out, but when she disappeared, that was when he knew he couldn’t live without her. Never again would he float from job to job, town to town, taking his pleasure as he chose.

No, he realized he had crossed a line somewhere in his heart, and he could never turn back now. No one else would do.

He kept riding, past the Lemoyne border, into New Hanover, north through Annesburg, west across the Ambarino border, finding it harder and harder to keep track of her.

~Old, but I'm not that old

Young, but I'm not that bold

And I don't think the world is sold

On just doing what we're told~

“I’m looking for a woman, long black hair in a braid, black eyes, comes up to my shoulder,” he asked the man who had been traveling in the opposite direction.

“One of them orientals?”

Everett gritted his teeth. “She’s Chinese.”

The man shrugged off Everett’s correction. “Saw someone like that traveling that way a day ago. Could’ve been a man or a woman, I can’t tell. They all got them long braids and look scrawny.”

“Right, thanks,” Everett said, getting away from the man before he punched out his remaining teeth.

“Yer better off stickin’ to yer own kind!” the man shouted at him as he left. It took everything in Everett’s self-control not to turn around and beat the man within an inch of his life.

His own kind? His kind was tough, scrappy, silently strong. Everett didn’t care about anything else. He only cared that Min had stolen his heart. Wherever she went, he followed.

~I feel something so right doing the wrong thing

I feel something so wrong doing the right thing

I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie

Everything that kills me makes me feel alive~

“How did you find me?”

“I told you, I used to be a ranger. I can track anyone.”

Verai let out a sigh. She was trapped in her mountain shack, the one she used to hide away from the world when everything got to be too much. After her night with Everett, she had panicked and fled. The warm glow in her heart that she had preserved for Mateo and only Mateo had slowly been transferring to Everett, and she was afraid to let it happen.

She didn’t want to let Mateo go.

But Everett had slowly woven his way into her heart.

She was afraid.

She was so damn afraid of forgetting Mateo.

Lost in her own fear, she didn’t realize that Everett was now standing in front of her, trapping her in her own home, cornering her.

“Please leave,” she quietly said. She hated how her voice trembled.

“I won’t.”

“I thought you respected my boundaries,” she whispered.

“And I thought you were more self-aware,” he said before he leaned down and kissed her.

She melted into his touch, letting him press her against the wall, letting him take her breath, her very soul. It felt good. It felt so right.

Verai pushed him away. “We can’t.”

“We can. You can.”

“But—”

“Your love for Mateo will never change,” he interrupted. “I’ll never replace him.” He kissed her once more before continuing. “But I’m alive. And I’m here now. I’m right here with you.”

Everett knew he shouldn’t have mentioned her former lover. He knew how much he had meant to her, how she still mourned him, four years later. But he had to push her. Had to make her see how she was hurting herself by holding on so tightly to a memory.

Seeing her eyes mist over, seeing her show him her weakness made him want to be stronger for her. He knew that she could physically protect herself better than he could, but he wanted to protect her heart.

So he held onto her tight, refusing to let her go until she finally collapsed into his arms and gave into him.

~I feel your love and I feel it burn

Down this river, every turn

Hope is our four-letter word

Make that money, watch it burn~

Verai clasped onto Everett, letting him carry her to the bed, letting him lavish her with love and attention, his every kiss, his every touch sending fire straight to her heart. She knew, on an objective level, that Mateo was gone, would never come back, and that Everett was with her now, and he loved her, as broken as she was.

And she realized that she could potentially love him too.

She hoped that she could come around and be healed someday. And when that day came, she hoped that it would be Everett that stood with her, holding her just as gently and tenderly as he was tonight.

~And I feel something so wrong

Doing the right thing

I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie

Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly~

It killed him to finish outside of her.

Feeling her arms and legs wrapped around him, he had thought about it. Marking her body on the inside, making her his.

It would have felt so right.

But he had pulled away and spent himself on her soft thighs, huffing with exertion, pressing his forehead against hers and silently lamenting his self-control.

He could’ve spent himself inside of her and told her he couldn’t control himself.

But he’d never lie to her. Not like that.

Maybe one day, he’d be with her completely.

When she was ready.

~Take that money, watch it burn

Sink in the river the lessons I've learned~

“You won’t run away anymore?”

“I… I won’t run away.”

“You hesitated, Min.”

“I still need time to myself, every once in a while.”

“Alright. As long as you come back to me. Otherwise I’ll come find you.”

Verai looked over at Everett and softly smiled. “I know you will.” She stared up at the ceiling again. “If there’s ever a time I don’t come back on my own, come pull me out of my misery.”

“Of course. I promise.”

--------------------

End Notes: I dunno, just had to get this out of my system, the mental music video just would not leave my head!

#everett x verai #verai marcel #everett osborn #rdo oc #rdo oc fanfic #writing #nsft

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verai-marcel · 4 years

Text

We’ve Only Just Begun (RDO OC x OC Fic)

Summary: Everett, a few weeks out of Sisika, has paid his debt to Mrs LeClerk. Though he’s now free, he can’t return to his old life as a ranger, so he opts for the next closest career: bounty hunting. When he’s handed a lead to some slavers related to the ones that had kidnapped his sister before, he jumps at the chance to wipe them out once and for all. But there’s a catch: he has to take a partner with him.

Author’s Notes: I’m being self-indulgent. This is how Verai and Everett first met.

Tags: oc x oc, rdo oc, origin story, historical racism, slow burn, strangers to friends, gun violence, minor wounds

Word Count: 8764 (I know it’s long, but mostly dialogue.)

--------------------

Everett stood in the middle of the police station in St. Denis, listening to the sheriff ramble on about the man on the bounty poster he was looking at. The sheriff had heard that the bounty had been seen skulking around the ruins of the old train station a couple hours outside of the city. It wasn’t going to be a hard bounty; the man was just a sneaky bastard that had given his deputies the slip one too many times.

“Alright, I got it. I’ll bring’im back in one piece.”

“Preferably alive, Mr. Osborn.”

“Of course, who do you take me for?”

After taking the poster with the sheriff’s condescending ‘good luck’, Everett left the city on his black chestnut thoroughbred, the only thing tying him to his past. He had left Sisika swearing that he would drop his old life and everything around it, but he wouldn’t give up Ares for the world. Once Mrs LeClerk had told him he had some free time between jobs, he had snuck back to his old stable and taken him away. He was pretty sure they just let him take Ares back with no trouble, since he swore he saw a guard nod his way and turn around when he thought he had been caught.

The sun had moved overhead by the time he reached the ruined station. He let his horse rest a few hundred feet away and snuck over to the building, his navy revolver out and at the ready. Hearing some rustling amongst the rubble, he slowly turned a corner.

A man, sneaking past a broken wall, looked over his shoulder at the exact moment that Everett appeared.

"Shit!" the man exclaimed, bolting over the crumbling piles of bricks.

Everett immediately gave chase. Leaping over the wall, he landed with a loud squish into the bayou mud.

"Goddammit," he muttered as he pulled his boots out of the mud and made his way to solid ground. Putting on some extra speed, he whistled for his horse to follow.

"Leave me alone!" the man yelled over his shoulder.

Everett ignored him and saved his breath for running.

Then the man pulled out a gun and shot blindly over his shoulder.

Ducking and weaving, Everett dodged most of the bullets. The last one grazed his upper arm, tearing his shirt and burning his skin. His temper running a little short already because of the mud, he whistled again for his horse and kept chasing after the man, now more pissed off. He hated being shot at, and given that the man was running and shooting blindly over his shoulder, he really shouldn’t have been able to hit him.

The sound of a horse made him smile. He was going to run the bastard down before tying him up. Maybe drag him through the mud a little.

Then his smile faltered. That didn’t sound like Ares—

A blur of brown and white rushed passed him as a criollo leapt into his path, cutting him off.

As if in slow motion, he met the eyes of the rider: a woman, hair as dark as the midnight sky, eyes as sharp as a hunter’s knife, lips painted red like the lanterns near the gunshop of St. Denis.

He kept running, but watched as she expertly threw some bolas at the bounty. Hitting him in the legs, the man went down face first into the ground and slid a few feet. She skidded her horse to a stop and leapt off, landing in front of the man.

“Stupid bitch!”

The woman casually knocked the man out with a swift drop kick to the head before she pulled his arms out of the mud and tied his wrists together.

Everett caught up to her and was quickly met by a Schofield revolver pointed at his chest.

He put his hands up. “Whoa, hold on, I was hunting him first.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Since when?”

“Since this morning.”

The woman pulled a bounty poster out of her satchel with her free hand. “I’ve been after him since last night.”

Everett stared at the poster for a moment before clicking his tongue. “Damn sheriff,” he muttered.

She stowed the poster away, but didn’t stop aiming her gun at him. “You can go, I got it from here.”

For just a moment, he wondered if he could fast draw on her, shoot the gun out of hand, knock her out, and take the bounty, but quickly thought better of it.

“I’ll shoot you before you take a step,” she said, reading his thoughts.

He sighed. “I wouldn’t actually try anything,” he relented. “I know when I’m beat.”

“But you did think about it.” Nodding her head towards the man, she continued. “Help me put him on my horse, and we can split the bounty 20-80.”

“40-60.”

The woman hummed. "30-70,” she finally said, looking at him

Everett narrowed his eyes, glaring.

The woman shrugged. "You don't have to help me. I can do this myself."

And take the bounty for yourself, he thought. "Fine, fine. 30-70."

She stepped back, her gun still trained on him. Everett got the hint and slowly walked over to the unconscious man, picked him up, and dumped him on the back of her horse. Standing back, he turned to her, noticing her eyes were focused on something behind him, but he didn't dare take his eyes off someone with a gun aimed at him.

A soft nickering and the wet thud of hooves got closer until he could feel his horse nudging him in the back of his head.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

"Not now, Ares," Everett muttered.

His horse kept nudging him.

"Ares, stop."

He felt his horse's lips playing with his hair. Everett sighed. So much for trying to be a tough guy.

The woman snickered. "I guess you aren’t so bad, if your horse is this silly." She holstered her gun and walked towards him.

"Wait, Ares doesn't like strangers—" he started to say, just as she held her hand out. To his immense surprise, Ares dipped his head and pushed his muzzle into her hand.

"Hey there, big boy. Are you bothering your owner for a treat?" she said gently, her voice changing into something more sing-song while she spoke to the horse.

The woman was now close enough for her scent to wash over him. Most women he knew smelled like perfume, flowers, something exceedingly feminine. Her scent was different. She smelled of rain and thunderstorms, of leaves and meadows. And when she turned to look at him, he found himself drowning in her dark eyes. He noticed an emotion flicker in her eyes before she glanced away, looking back at his horse. What was that?

Everett swallowed. He suddenly had a strong urge to get to know her better. "Name's Everett. Everett Osborn."

Without looking away from Ares, who she was now petting with soft strokes, she replied, "My friends call me Verai." She turned to him with a wry grin on her face. "So you'll have to call me Ms. Marcel."

Everett grinned back. "Alright Ms. Marcel." He gave Ares a pat on the neck before mounting up. "Lead the way."

She nodded before heading back to her horse and trotting towards the city.

Everett took his cutter hat off the saddle and put it back on his head as he followed her. They rode in silence for a while, nothing but the sounds of birds and the occasional passersby accompanied them. Soon enough, he got curious about her.

"So what's his name?" Everett asked, gesturing at her horse.

"Sleipnir."

"Where'd you learn that name?"

"A friend."

When she didn't give any further details, he tried another question. "So, you do a lot of bounty hunting?"

"Yup."

Another few moments passed. Everett sighed. She wasn't a talkative one. "How long have you been a bounty hunter?"

Verai looked up at the sky for a few moments. "Nine years. Probably."

"Probably? How old were you when you started?"

"Nineteen."

Everett did the math in his head. She didn't look even close to his age, so he was surprised to find that she was only two years younger than him. He thought she was in her early twenties.

"And you?" she asked.

"Just started a few weeks ago," he said, a bit abashedly. He looked over at her to find her watching him with a patient expression, like a parent waiting for a child to confess.

But he was no child. He didn't particularly want to share the whole tale of why he suddenly decided to become a bounty hunter.

She eventually shrugged and looked away. Everett let out a small sigh. He wasn't going to get her to open up to him if he didn't do it first.

He wondered why he even cared.

The rest of the ride was made in silence until they reached the police station, nodding at the officers outside as they brought their horses into the courtyard. Dismounting easily, Verai moved to take the man off the back of her horse.

Everett quickly went to help her. "Let me…"

He trailed off as he watched her easily lift the man up into a fireman's carry and walk into the police office without breaking her stride. Following her inside, he could see the sheriff looking as if this was normal.

"Took a little longer than I thought," Verai said, dumping the body in a cell. "He's alive."

"I know, you're good about that." The sheriff opened a drawer and pulled out a wad of bills. "This is for you."

Verai took the money and counted it, then counted out a third of the bills and handed them to Everett.

The sheriff finally noticed Everett. "Oh, I see you ran into our lady hunter."

"Why didn't you tell me there was already someone after him?" Everett asked, trying not to growl.

The sheriff shrugged. "She didn't come back in the morning. Thought she might've died."

Verai let out a short laugh. "Please, you sent this greenhorn to me on purpose."

The sheriff grinned, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "You never stick around, Ms Marcel. It was the only way I could get you to meet Mr Osborn."

"And why would you do that to me?" Verai asked with only a small quirk to her lips indicating her faint amusement.

Everett felt a little affronted at being talked about as if he wasn't here. He opened his mouth to speak just as the sheriff suddenly stood up.

"There's a group of men that need to be arrested."

Verai raised an eyebrow. "I'll just get–"

"No. It has to be with Mr. Osborn." The sheriff turned to Everett. "It concerns those slavers."

Everett's eyes narrowed. "How do you know–"

"Your pa and I go way back. He told me to keep an eye out for you if I ever saw you. So here I am, throwin' you a bone."

Everett glanced at Verai, who was standing quietly, listening to every word. "Why does she have to come?"

"Because she's familiar with this area, much more than you."

Everett couldn't argue with that.

Verai finally spoke. "Why do I have to bring him?" She nodded her head at Everett. "This tenderfoot will only get killed if this group is as dangerous as I think they are."

"I–"

The sheriff interrupted Everett. "He's experienced."

Verai and the sheriff quietly stared at each other. Everett sensed a silent battle of wills and wisely stayed out of it.

"Fine," Verai said after a while. Then she turned to Everett. "But this is my job. I'm taking point."

Everett furrowed his brow. "Listen, I know this group, I know how they operate."

Verai ignored him as she turned back to the sheriff and held out her hand expectantly. He wordlessly handed her an envelope.

Taking the letter without reading it, she used it to salute the sheriff and left the building, Everett nodding at the sheriff as he followed her out.

***

"So where are we going?" Everett asked, falling into step beside Verai as they led their horses out of the courtyard and onto the road.

"The hotel."

"I know we just met sweetheart, but I like your style," Everett teased, reaching out to touch her elbow.

Gracefully dodging his hand, Verai rolled her eyes. "I am getting some sleep because I've been up all night tracking that halfwit. You are going to get supplies for our trip."

"Now hold on, I'm not your servant–"

"I thought you would want to be efficient. Otherwise you can wait until I've had some rest, then we can buy supplies together." She gave him a droll look. "Up to you."

He couldn't say anything at all. She was right. "I'll get supplies," he finally mumbled.

***

Verai split off from Everett at the intersection; she was going to get a bath and sleep, while he procured supplies for the trip. She didn't need to read the letter from the sheriff to know where they were headed. Having heard whispers about men hiding in Roanoke Ridge, taking people into caves who were never seen again, she had a feeling they would be traveling north and would be up there for a while.

Paying for her bath and a few hours sleep, she made her way to the room in the back and waited for the bath lady to fill up the tub.

"Rough day, sugar?"

"Yeah. And the sheriff just partnered me with some novice on the next job."

The lady gave her a sympathetic smile. "Well, good luck out there."

Verai nodded to her as she left. "Thanks."

Removing her clothes and sinking into the warm tub, Verai let out a deep sigh. She didn't want to work with the man. Nothing against him personally, but when she had finally gotten a good look at him while she was petting his horse, she saw a resemblance to her former partner, and her heart had squeezed tight.

She could stare down ten bandits without so much as batting an eye, but when face to face with a man who reminded her of far too much, she had shut down.

“Don’t be weak,” she muttered to herself as she scrubbed herself clean, finally hauling her ass out of the tub, getting dressed, and heading to her room for a few hours of shut eye.

***

A light rapping on her door pulled Verai from her dream. Blinking away the sleep, she was surprised to find tears streaking down her cheek. She couldn’t recall her dream, just felt a deep sadness. Deciding to bury her feelings, as she always did, she sat up to face the day, or what was left of it. She looked outside to see the sun low in the sky; she had slept longer than she had planned.

“Ms. Marcel?” A deep voice came from outside her door.

“I’m gettin’ up, hold your horses.” Grumbling, she rolled out of bed, pulled on the rest of her clothes and her gun belt, grabbed her satchel, and opened the door.

Everett was leaning against the door frame, a smile on his face. “I was about to come in and wake you up, sleeping beauty.”

“And I would’ve punched you,” she said without missing a beat. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” She walked past him to the front of the hotel. Passing the key back to the clerk, she exited the building and went straight to her horse.

“You’re not even going to ask about the supplies?” Everett asked, falling into step next to her.

“I trust you to accomplish at least that. Or are you saying that I shouldn’t?”

Everett shook his head. “You’re a tough one, ain’tcha?”

Verai checked the saddle one last time before mounting up. Turning to him as he did the same, she responded, “I’m not particularly tough. Just straight shootin’.”

She could hear Everett’s amused chuckle as they turned their horses towards the main road and started north.

***

“We goin’ to stop for the night?”

“The night is young. Best to get as far north as possible while we can.”

“We could’ve started earlier.”

Verai glared at Everett, who was focused on the road ahead, though his eyes did glance over at her before looking forward again. “I overslept. You could’ve left without me.”

“And leave a lady behind? Never,” he said, a little more seriously than she had expected.

Unable to think of a response, Verai just left it alone and changed the subject. “Let’s go a little faster then, if you can keep up. We’ll hit the border of Lemoyne and camp near there.”

Without waiting for a response, she urged her horse into a gallop and took off. Hearing the pounding hoofbeats of his horse behind her, she smiled.

***

They reached the border and headed off the main road towards a small clearing. By lantern light, they set up their bedrolls.

“Should we start a fire?”

“No.”

Everett looked at her, wondering at her terse response.

“Smoke will attract bandits,” she finally said.

“Oh.”

Verai considered Everett for a moment. “You haven’t been bounty hunting for very long. Have you spent a lot of time on the road?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I guess I never really thought about bandits attacking me. Usually traveled with a posse.”

“I see. When you’re alone, you have to prevent anyone from finding you.”

“Is that why we’re in this circle of trees?”

She nodded.

Everett considered her for a moment. A woman, alone, bounty hunting. He watched as she switched off her lantern and plopped down on her bedroll. Following suit, he lay on his back, staring up at the stars through the trees.

“Ms. Marcel?”

“Yeah?”

“Sweet dreams.”

When she didn’t respond, he turned to look at her, only to find her staring at him blankly.

“What?”

“Been a long time since someone’s said that to me,” she said wistfully. “Good night.”

As she turned away from him and fell asleep, Everett watched her steady breathing and lost track of the time as he wondered how long she had been alone.

***

They got up in the morning and headed north once more. And once more, Everett tried to get to know his reticent companion.

“Why’d the sheriff stop you when you said you were goin’ to get some help?”

Verai shrugged at Everett’s question.

“C’mon, you can tell me, I can keep a secret.”

“More like you’re nosy.”

Everett shook his head. “Forgive me for giving a damn.”

Rolling her eyes, Verai decided to humor him. “I occasionally ride with another posse, but they’re… a bit wild.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They’re good people, but wherever we go, there tends to be a lot of dead people in our wake.”

“Did those people deserve it?”

“Let’s just say that if I utter their name, other gangs steer clear.”

Everett wanted to ask more, but she was clearly protecting them. “They sound fun. Maybe you can introduce me to them some time.”

Verai laughed out loud. “Oh, no, they’d eat you for breakfast.”

“I am mighty tasty, you know,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She delicately snorted. “Right.”

***

“You sure you want to stop here?” Everett asked as they entered Van Horn, the derelict buildings creaking with the wind.

“Just for a quick meal before we head on. We should hit Annesburg sometime after nightfall. Then it’s all wilderness from there.”

Everett eyed the people in town warily. If he were still a ranger, he would’ve kept going. A lawman seemed like the last person that anyone in this town wanted to see. Following Verai into the saloon, he took in the patrons as he always did, quickly judging who would be a threat and who was safe.

Three men at the back of the room had turned their heads when Verai had walked in and hadn’t looked away. His hackles raised, Everett stepped closer to her.

“Been a while, Verai,” the owner said with a smile.

“Sure has, Ms Dawson.”

“I told you, call me Josie.”

“Alright, fine, Josie. Two stews, please.”

“That’ll be six dollars.”

Everett leaned past Verai and slapped the money on the bar.

Verai glared at him.

“Just treatin’ a lady right,” Everett said with a wink.

The owner looked at Verai. “You finally got yerself a nice one,” she said, chuckling.

“No, he’s not–”

“I’m just teasin’ ya,” she laughed. “I’ll get you your stew. Go sit down.”

“Thank you,” Verai said as she turned to find a table. Everett followed her, and she couldn’t help but feel like he was following her a little too closely, like an overprotective dog.

Sitting down, she noticed that he kept glancing over her shoulder. “Ignore them,” she muttered. “There are always people like that.”

“I don’t like how they’re lookin’ at you.”

“Well, get used to it. I did.”

Everett looked at her, and the pity in his eyes both infuriated her and saddened her.

“Listen,” she said quietly. “I don’t want your pity, or your misguided sense of justice. There’s no point in raising a ruckus if it’ll just cause more misunderstandings.”

“But–”

“No buts. Just. Let. It. Go.”

Everett let out a breath and huffed. “Fine. But if they try anything, I’ll tear them apart.”

Verai sat back. “And why do you care?”

“Because you’re my partner. That’s all the reason I need.”

“Oh,” she said, taken aback. Surprised by his response, she could only look down at the table until the food arrived.

***

They finished their food quietly, with the occasional comment on the quality, and left the saloon satisfied.

"We're being followed," Everett whispered.

"I know," Verai whispered back. "Don't do–"

"What do you want," he growled as he turned around, addressing the three men from the back table.

Verai closed her eyes and sighed silently before she, too, turned around. Facing the three men, she assessed each one. The one on the left was shorter than the other two and had a bowler hat on. The one on the right was a little lanky, with an ill-fitting jacket. And the one in the center had unruly mutton chops and a wicked look in his eyes.

"This isn't ideal," she grumbled.

"Don't see many of your kind around here," the man in the center said as he looked her up and down, as if he was appraising a piece of meat.

Verai narrowed her eyes as a cold calm started to settle into her stomach.

The man chuckled. "Maybe we can take you for a ride."

Without warning, the other two men leapt onto Everett, taking him down. As they wrestled on the ground, the man with the mutton chops stalked towards Verai. He leered at her, licking his lips. "Never had one of you before. Bet you're a crier."

Then he lunged.

Verai swiftly dodged, spinning out of the way and using the momentum to roundhouse kick the man in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground.

"And you'll never find out," she muttered as she quickly drop kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

Turning to Everett, she watched him throw one man off his shoulder just as the other man threw a punch into his stomach. Coughing harshly, Everett grabbed the man's arm and tugged hard, lifting up a knee and delivering a hit to his stomach in return. Seeing the other man get up, Verai ran and tackled him just as he was coming back for another hit.

Knocking out his current attacker with an elbow to the back of his neck, Everett turned around to see Verai pummeling the other man until he was out cold. When she stood up, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from her brow, she looked over at him and half-smiled, a quirk of her lips that made his heart stutter.

What a woman.

***

They left Van Horn quickly after that, not wanting to stir up more trouble. Riding hard until sunset, they finally reached Annesburg, a small mining town filled with run down buildings and run down people. Everett followed Verai as she hitched her horse next to a nondescript building, the green paint faded and peeling from the wall boards. To his bemusement, she walked towards the gunsmith next door.

"I already bought ammo," he said.

"We're not here for that," she said as she entered, the door creaking loudly on its hinges.

The man behind the counter nodded in greeting, glancing at Everett for a moment.

"Two baths and two rooms, please."

"Only have one room available."

Verai balked. Turning to Everett, she opened her mouth to suggest camping, but he stepped forward.

"We'll take the room," he said, handing over a dollar and two quarters.

Verai stared at him in shock.

"You'll catch flies like that," he teased as he accepted the key and two bath tickets from the gunsmith.

Quickly shutting her mouth, Verai shook her head as she snatched one of the tickets out of Everett's hand and left the shop, walking back to the first building.

“Thank you, mister,” he said over his shoulder to the gunsmith as he followed after her.

The inside of the puke green building wasn't nearly as shabby as the outside, Everett observed as he looked around in the little hallway between the bathroom and the two sleeping rooms on the other side. It was rather sparse, but it was tidy.

Verai handed her ticket to the bath lady leaning against the wall. As she went to fill the tub, Everett opened the door to their shared room and tossed his satchel in the corner. Verai stayed at the door, leaning against the jamb and shaking her head. The bed wasn't very large and the rug on the ground looked muddy. She decided on bringing her bedroll in here to sleep on the floor.

"Not even going to ask if I wanted to bathe first?" Everett asked with an eyebrow raised as he sat on the bed, groaning softly as the pain in his ribs made itself known.

Verai turned to him with a droll stare. "I already know you'd turn it down. I'm not going to waste my breath."

"How do you know that?"

She grinned knowingly at him. "Because you're not an asshole."

"Why, thank you." Everett then gave her his most charming smile. "C'mere," he coaxed, patting the spot next to him. "Sit with me."

Laughing, she shook her head. "Nope."

"Why not–"

"Bath's ready!" the lady called out from the hallway.

Verai waved goodbye as she walked away, shutting the door behind her.

"Dammit," Everett uttered under his breath.

***

“Your turn.”

Everett was sitting in the creaky chair at the small table in the room, cleaning his guns. Getting up, he let out a pained breath. The punch to his ribs was hurting more than he thought it would.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he lied as he got up and walked past Verai. The fresh scent that was distinctively hers hit him as he walked past, and it took everything he had to keep walking, to not turn around, pull her into his arms, and bury his face into her neck. There was something about her that made him both calm and restless, as if something was just not quite right, but it lay just underneath her composed yet snarky exterior.

Heading into the bath, the lady smiled at him. “Need some extra help? Fifty cents.”

Everett looked at her, with her corset pushing up her ample bosom, her blond hair in ringlets around her shoulders, her red lips, her powdered cheeks, and her eyes lined with makeup. She smelled like roses and had a very cute smile.

And for the first time, Everett declined. “Sorry. Not this time, sweetheart.”

She pouted. “Too bad. Not often I get to see a fine man like yourself around here.”

Shutting the door behind her, he was left alone, wondering what the hell he was doing. He had always welcomed the warm touch of a woman, whether in bed or in a bath, though he was a little picky about his choices. But he had never gone long without satisfying his baser desires.

Was it because of her?

Taking off his clothes, he looked in the mirror and examined the bruise that was growing on his abdomen. The coloration on his skin made him raise an eyebrow. How hard had the guy hit him? Figuring that there wasn’t much he could do about it other than wait for it to heal, he sank into the tub and bathed himself, lost in thought.

***

“No,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

Everett had come back into the room to find Verai sitting on her bedroll that she had laid out on the floor next to the bed, mixing some herbs with a mortar and pestle. The fact that she had assumed she would be taking the floor hurt his honor.

“You’re takin’ the bed,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“You’re more injured than I am.”

Everett blinked. She noticed?

She sighed. “Lie down on the bed and take your shirt off.”

He smiled, his eyes softening. Taking a few steps closer until he was standing over her, he went down on one knee so he could look her in the eyes. “Sweetheart, been waiting all this time for you to say that to me.”

Verai reached over and pressed two fingers into his abdomen, exactly where he had been punched. He gasped and winced.

“Just do as I say,” she groused.

“Yes ma’am,” he said wryly as he took off his shirt and lay back on the bed.

He watched her stuff the herbal paste into a small muslin pouch and tie it off. Then she sat at the side of the bed and assessed his condition, observing him with a clinical blankness.

“What?” he said, his voice softer than he had intended.

She shrugged. “Just looking for other wounds.” Placing the poultice on his bruise, she flattened it out to cover more of his bruise and pressed down slightly.

“Hold this down,” she said, taking his hand and pressing it against the bag. “I’ll be back.”

“Where you goin’?” he asked as she got up and headed for the door.

“Need to stretch my legs, been sittin’ for too long, grinding those herbs for you.”

“Oh.”

She left before he could say anymore.

***

Verai quickly walked outside into the cold night air and took a deep breath. When Everett had walked in, his hair damp, his shirt half-buttoned and untucked from his pants, she had felt a heat in her body that she had not felt in a very long time. Very few men had this affect on her. The fact that he did wasn't lost on her. Old feelings were slowly being rewritten with new ones.

She did like him. She didn’t want to. But she did.

Taking another deep breath, she stared up at the night sky, the stars hidden by the gas lamps that dotted the road. Only the morning star and the waxing moon could really shine past the man-made illumination.

“What would you say, ài rén?” she whispered to the sky. When the morning star winked, she sighed.

I can’t let go of you. I won’t.

***

When Verai walked back inside, Everett was already asleep with the occasional light snore. She smiled softly at him, not understanding why she felt a fondness for him, only knowing that she did. His hand had slipped from his torso, so she quietly took the poultice away, setting it on the table to clean up later, and slipped the blanket over him.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered before she crawled into her bedroll and closed her eyes, but her last thoughts were of the past, and as she drifted to sleep, she had a feeling that it would not be restful.

***

Everett woke up to the sounds of shifting fabric and soft gasping. Springing up, he hopped off the bed and knelt beside Verai.

“Sweetheart?”

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see her curled up in her bedroll, shivering slightly. He touched her shoulder but quickly removed his hand when she gasped again.

“Ms. Marcel!”

Verai’s eyes shot open and she turned to him, her eyes wide. She was breathing heavily, her heartbeat audible in the silent night.

“It’s alright,” he murmured.

She swallowed and nodded. Slowly sitting up, she waved her hand in a 'don't worry' gesture. “I’m good.”

He held her hand. “You're freezing.” He leaned in closer. “You want to sleep on the bed?”

She shook her head.

“Even by yourself?”

She kept shaking her head.

He sighed. “Then I’m joining you.”

“What?”

Everett lay down next to her. Not touching her, he turned to his side and offered his back. “Use me for warmth,” he said softly.

He waited.

Then he felt her lay back down and curl up against him.

He smiled.

***

The next morning, Everett woke up alone. He bolted upright, looking for Verai. When he saw her sitting at the table, cleaning her guns, he breathed a sigh of relief. Wordlessly, he got up and got ready to go, tapping her shoulder when he was done.

She looked up at him and nodded.

Neither of them spoke as they headed out, mounted their horses, and traveled north.

He wanted to ask what she dreamed, wanted to ask if she was really alright. But seeing her, seemingly fine, he felt his heart squeeze tight. She was shut off tighter than a mason jar and no amount of cajoling was going to get her to speak.

So he'd respect her silence. If she needed time, he'd give it to her.

They reached a crossroads north of Annesburg, and that's when Verai finally pulled out the letter the sheriff had given her. Opening it, she read the contents and flipped the paper over.

Everett maneuvered his horse closer and looked over her shoulder. "What's that map?"

"It marks where people have been reported missing."

She pulled a pencil out of her satchel and lightly drew a line through all of the dots, connecting them into an oddly shaped oval. "The slavers are probably around here," she said, tapping the middle of the shape.

Everett looked at the map, then looked at her. "Alright. Lead the way."

"Not trying to take lead?" she remarked with a wry grin.

"I can admit when I'm out of my element."

"Good. I like people who are self aware."

"So you like me?"

Instead of snorting or laughing at him, she only turned away and urged her horse faster.

"I'll take that as a yes," he mumbled, suddenly feeling happier.

***

They searched caves and abandoned cabins all day, but couldn't find anything, until they reached a small road that had recent hoof prints leading up towards the cliffs. Dismounting, they grabbed their weapons and quietly made their way up the hill.

Spotting a couple of guards, they both nodded at each other and split up, sneaking up on them and knocking them out before moving onwards, all the way to the cave mouth.

As Verai began to step into the cave, Everett grabbed her arm. She looked at the offending hand, then up at him.

"I'll take lead from here," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because the first thing they'll do is dispose of the merchandise."

Verai's eyes widened as she realized what that meant. Nodding, she gestured towards the cave. "Lead on."

The cave was damp and smelled awful, but it was relatively well lit with torches dotting the path. Everett had his trusty navy revolver at the ready, while Verai had her Schofield, aiming upwards in case they ran into a victim.

Down the tunnels they went until they came into an opening with several cages, all locked. Inside three of the cages was a person, some curled up in a ball, others sitting with their backs to the outside, slumped over as if they had given up all hope.

Verai tapped Everett's shoulder.

No guards? she mouthed to him.

He leaned closer to her and whispered quietly in her ear. "They went on another hunt. Let's free them before they get back."

Together they shot off all the locks and herded the kidnapped victims out of the cave. There was one girl, one woman, and one boy. Scared and shaking, they barely registered the fact that they had been set free. Verai could only watch as Everett quietly calmed them down and got them to move as quickly as possible.

Outside of the cave, both Everett and Verai whistled for their horses. Walking down the path, they kept an ear out for the return of the slavers, but there was no sign of them for the time being.

Putting the children on Everett's horse and the woman with Verai, they rode back to town and returned them to the sheriff's office, where they could find their families from there.

Everett looked at Verai. "We have to go back."

"I know."

"They’re not going to be happy with what we did."

"They won't be happy with what we're about to do to them."

Everett smiled. "I like you."

Verai smiled back. "I tolerate you."

Laughing, Everett charged forward on Ares with Verai following close behind, back to the cave to capture the criminals.

***

The slavers were further up the road to the cave just as they were riding around the corner.

"Should we just carry on and circle back behind them?" Verai suggested.

Everett nodded. "Good idea."

"Of course, I came up with it."

He chuckled as they rode on as if they were just two travelers, keeping one eye on the slavers just in case. They rode a little further before turning up the hillside and through the forest to come up behind the gang. Grabbing their rifles, they left the horses and snuck through the bushes to a high point where they could see the gang riding down the trail towards the main road. Verai counted about ten men on horseback.

Keeping her ears open, she could overhear just a little bit of chatter as they rode past.

"They killed Kenny and knocked out Jimmy, freed our merchandise. Follow the tracks, get'em."

Verai glanced at Everett. "You killed him?"

"Only good slaver is a dead one," Everett growled, a darkness in his eyes that Verai noted for later.

"So. Five for me and five for you. You got this?" she asked, getting her Lancaster repeater in position.

"Of course." He raised his bolt action rifle.

Together they whispered. “Three. Two. One.”

Together they shot their marks. Two men went down, and the other eight men immediately scattered, some hopping off their horses and ducking behind cover, others brazenly charging forward to flush out their attackers.

Verai went right while Everett went left. She took a pop shot at one of the horsemen, striking their arm. Dodging past some bullets, she found a good spot behind some rocks and waited for the hoof beats to get closer. As they slowed, she pulled out her Schofield and peeked around the corner.

The man was slowly coming closer, his rifle aimed in her general direction, but he still seemed unable to see her. She quickly got two shots off, one hitting the man’s forehead. With no time to waste, she moved onwards, using the horse’s panic as a distraction as she headed in the opposite direction. Diving behind a fallen log, Verai holstered her revolver and pulled her rifle out once more. Peeking up, she saw three men coming towards her, and ducked back down again. Taking a deep breath, she gripped her gun, counted to three, and stood up.

“There’s the bitch—”

Bullets whizzed by, but she was focused.

Three shots.

Three men down.

Letting out a breath, she felt the burn of a light graze on her arm. Counting her lucky stars that she had only gotten grazed, she hopped the log and kept moving towards the sound of gunfire. She came upon the road once more and quickly ducked behind a rock. She counted three men shooting towards Everett, who was standing behind a tree. He shifted out and quickly fired off three shots with his revolver, finally hitting one of the men with his last bullet in the head, his skull opening up like a glass jar breaking apart.

At the same time though, another bullet flew past Everett, blood appearing on his shoulder as he quickly hid behind the tree again, gasping.

“Everett!”

The remaining men immediately turned to her location.

"Shit," she snarled as she shot her rifle from the hip, her shots going wild. She moved backwards until she heard a noise to her left.

Another man, bloodied and angry, burst out of the bushes and tackled her, knocking the rifle out of her grip. Throwing her elbow back into his face, she crawled out from under him, scrambling away.

She leapt up just as he slashed at her back with his hunting knife. The blade cut through her shirt and into her skin, the sting making her wince as she stumbled away.

"Was goin' to grab ya and sell ya," the man rasped. "But maybe I'll try ya out first."

Verai turned and pulled out her revolver only to have the man charge forward and knock it from her grasp. He then wrapped a huge hand around her neck and squeezed.

So she kicked him in the groin, hard and with precision. The man gasped and went down to his knees, panting in pain. She quickly landed a hard kick on the back of his neck, the cracking sound reverberating through the trees as he went down like a fallen log.

She took a moment to listen for anything else around her. Upon hearing nothing, she picked up her guns and headed to the last position she had seen Everett.

She heard the sound of a very hard punch and saw several dead men up the road. Following the trail of blood and death, she saw Everett holding a man up by his neck against a tree, his fist held up, ready for another punch.

"Where is your leader?" Everett snarled.

"I told you, I don't know."

Everert dropped the man and promptly pulled out his revolver. Pressing it to the man's forehead, he glared with dark promise. "One last time. Where is he."

The man started to blubber incoherently.

Verai stepped forward and put her hand on Everett's arm. He twitched in surprise, apparently so intent on his interrogation that he had not noticed her approach.

"He doesn't know," she said quietly. "Let's take him back to the sheriff."

Everett looked at her, but not seeing her. She lowered his arm, the gun moving away from the man's head.

Then Verai quickly stepped behind the man and elbowed him at the base of his skull, knocking him out.

Everett was standing still, his eyes still blank, watching her as she pulled out a lasso and tied him up.

"Everett," she called to him quietly.

He blinked. "I, uh, I lost sight of the job."

Verai glanced back at the dead men they had left behind. "To be fair, they probably deserved it," she said with a wry grin. "At least, that's what I tell myself so I can sleep at night."

Everett smiled in return; he understood it was her roundabout way of cheering him up. Holstering his gun, he picked up the unconscious man and together, he and Verai walked back to their horses.

"You're hurt," Everett said when he saw the angry red line slashed along her back.

She waved her hand. "It happens."

He stopped himself from asking if she was alright. With the way she was carrying herself, she was clearly in pain, but holding it in, just like she did most things. He would wait until they got back to Annesburg.

Then he'd treat her right.

***

Dumping the unconscious man at the sheriff's, Everett explained the situation. Verai shared the letter and got his signature so she could take it back to the sheriff in St. Denis. By then it was the end of the day, the sun sinking into the water and coloring the sky with reds and oranges. They left the sheriff’s office and started to head back towards the gunsmith.

"We need to take care of your back."

“We?”

“Yes, we. You can’t reach back there.”

Verai suddenly looked away. “I… I suppose.”

***

Everett took charge, getting a room and a bath, guiding Verai by the elbow into the bathroom, with nary a peep from her, which was both gratifying and upsetting. He liked that she trusted him enough not to protest. He didn’t like that she was in so much pain that she couldn’t even snark back at him.

“I’ll turn around, so get in the bath. I’ll clean your back.”

“Alright,” she said, barely a whisper.

He heard her clothes drop to the floor, heard the water splash as she got in, and then a soft cough.

“Ready?”

“Yup.”

He turned. Seeing her curled up in the tub, her head on her knees, dried blood giving the water a reddish hue, Everett’s heart clenched. He swallowed hard and rolled up his sleeves, took a washcloth and sat on the edge of the tub. Gently cleaning the wound, he started humming softly, a melody from his childhood. Once she was clean, he handed the wash cloth to her, letting her wash the rest of her body on her own, while he turned away, giving her some privacy, but unwilling to leave her alone.

He suddenly felt her leaning against him. Turning his head, he saw her eyes fluttering shut, as if even sitting up was too much effort. She looked up at him as he reached out to touch her hair. He saw the bruises on her neck when her braid shifted over her shoulder and felt a rage that he quickly tamped down. Now wasn’t the time for that. Besides, the man who did that to her was probably already dead.

“...’Rett?” Her voice cracked.

“Hm?”

“I’m sleepy.”

Everett nodded and got up to grab a towel. He held it out and turned his head away as she pulled herself up and stepped out of the tub, letting him wrap the towel around her, drying her off.

“You lose a lot of blood?”

“Feels like it.”

He could only nod. “Let’s hop back to the room, I’ll bandage you up.”

“Lemme put my pants on, at least,” she said with more vigor than she had since they returned to town.

Everett chuckled. She must be feeling a little better if, even in pain, she was worried about little things like modesty.

***

Everett poked his head out into the small hallway. No one was around at this time of night, so he quickly ushered Verai out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, locking the door behind him. Without being told, she sat on the bed facing away from him.

He could see her back, covered in white scars, and wondered about her past. Gathering up the bandages, he started to wrap them around her.

“Don’t ask,” she said all of a sudden.

“I wouldn’t,” he said softly. “I’ll wait ‘til you’re ready to tell me.”

“You’ll be waiting forever.”

“If you ain’t ready, you ain’t ready.”

He saw her shoulders sag a little, realizing that she had felt relief with his words. Finishing up the bandage, he handed her one of his shirts. “Somethin’ to sleep in, since your other shirt is cut up and bloody.”

She took his shirt and eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s clean,” he said, affronted.

She smiled and looked up at him. “Didn’t think you’d be offended if I thought otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t offer a lady a dirty shirt.”

“Who said I was a lady?”

“I did. End of story.”

Verai laughed softly and shook her head as she pulled his shirt on. It was one of his favorite ones, a light blue shirt that was starting to become a bit threadbare with age. She buttoned it up and slowly laid down on the bed, positioning herself on her side.

“Thanks ‘Rett,” she mumbled as she closed her eyes.

“Can I sleep next to you?” he asked before he could think better of it.

“If you like.”

Everett crawled into the bed with her, facing her back, and wondered why, for the first time in his life, he had wanted a woman in his bed, but only to sleep beside and nothing more.

***

The next morning as dawn broke through the curtains covering the one small window in the room, Verai awoke, her muscles sore and her throat dry. Her neck hurt from where the man had dug in his fingers, but otherwise she was alive and mostly healthy. She pushed herself up slowly and turned her head.

Everett was still sleeping, laying on his back with one hand on his stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the small bed. She smiled at the scene; he had kept his distance, giving her most of the bed while he hovered at the edge, making sure she was comfortable.

He wasn’t a bad guy at all.

She carefully got up and saw his cutter hat on the table next to their gun belts. Taking the hat, she smirked and put it on before looking in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Looking left and right, she grinned.

“Not bad,” she mumbled.

“I agree,” Everett said, startling her.

“Dammit,” she grumbled as she turned around. “Now I have to steal it.”

He laughed. “I’ll tie you up if you do.”

It was her turn to laugh. “You’d have to catch me first.”

They looked at each other, their eyes meeting, and her laughter died as she caught something a little more serious in his gaze.

“We need to get back to St. Denis, tell the sheriff what happened. And deliver the letter,” she said, rapidly changing the subject as she removed his hat and placed it back on the table.

Everett nodded. “Well, let’s get goin’ then.”

***

They packed up and rode hard back to St Denis. Riding as fast as their horses could carry them, they made it back to the sheriff by sundown, handing over the letter and receiving the bounty, though it was greatly decreased since most of the men were dead.

“Personally, I think you did the world a favor,” the sheriff remarked as Verai counted the bills. “But rules are rules.”

Everett nodded. “Appreciate the sentiment anyway.”

Satisfied with the payout, Verai took half and gave the other to Everett. “See you around, sheriff.”

“Have a good evenin’, you two.”

***

“Where to next?”

Verai looked at Everett, a little surprised by his question. “I need to get back to my posse. It’s been a week, I said I’d come back by then.”

Everett nodded as he stepped a little closer to her. “I’d like to work with you again.”

Verai looked up at him, his natural smile more brilliant than the flirty ones that he had tried when they first met. Was it only a few days ago? She took a step back, but then held her ground. “That’d be good. Maybe in a week we can meet back here and catch another bounty.”

“Sounds great.” He took his hat off and placed it on her head.

“What’s this for?”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

Verai smiled shyly at his words. “How about I just borrow it. I’ll give it back to you next time I see you.”

Everett laughed. “Alright, it’s a promise.”

“A promise,” she said softly, making his heart skip.

They mounted their horses and looked at each other as they started to head in separate directions.

“Can I call you by your first name?” he asked.

She smirked. “I suppose you can.” Patting her horse, she gave him a wicked grin. “Maybe one day, you’ll get to call me by my real name too.”

“Wait, what?”

“See ya!” Verai turned her horse and bolted out of town, laughing as she went.

Everett huffed and shook his head before chuckling. She left him with more questions than answers.

He wouldn’t have her any other way.

--------------------

End Notes: Completely self-indulgent, I know. Hope you enjoyed it!

#everett osborn #verai marcel #rdo oc #oc x oc #rdo oc x oc #writing #fanfic #very long post #everett x verai

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