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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

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Cowboy Law

Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott, f!reader

Word Count: 3473

TW: Fluff, Love Confession, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Kissing, Waking Up Together

Notes: Thank you to @hyperfixatingmenever for the original idea and to @skvatnavle and @green-socks for beta reading for me! 💖

Standing up from the table, you said, “I’ll go get the next round.”

You didn’t come to this bar very often due to the frequent fights and some of the more rowdy clientele. But after three (soon to be four) beers into your monthly girl’s night out with your best friends, everything was going perfectly. That was until you began approaching the bar and saw who had sat down since the last time you had passed by.

Perry and Rhett Abbott were seated at the end of the bar, their heads close together as they talked softly to themselves. You were surprised to see Perry here given that he rarely went anywhere anymore ever since his wife had vanished. Some folks thought he had something to do with Rebecca’s disappearance, but you had known the Abbotts long enough to know that while Perry and Rebecca had their issues, Perry worshiped the ground she walked on. Plus, he loved his daughter too much to ever take her mother away from her like that. But it was good to see he had gotten to the point in his grieving that he was venturing out into public again.

Yet while you were surprised to see Perry here, Rhett’s presence in the bar was not a shock. Honestly from what you had heard, you would have been more astonished if you learned he hadn’t shown up here on a Friday night. But what did catch your attention was his appearance.

Normally when Rhett showed up at the bar, he smelled like beer, sweat, and cattle, and looked like he had experienced a few days of hard work on his family’s ranch since his last shower. But tonight… tonight was different. The hair that was peeking out from under his favorite old cowboy hat was still slightly damp from his recent shower, his shirt looked clean if not freshly pressed, and he had on a new pair of jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldn’t remember him looking this spruced up since high school graduation, eight years ago. Even at his worst, Rhett made your knees go weak. But seeing him like this….

Taking a deep breath, you went up to the bar and motioned to Glen to get you four more beers. You felt two sets of eyes on you, so you turned to look at the men directly to your left.

Rhett’s hat was pulled down low, hiding much of the top half of his face, but he gave you a small nod and a tight-lipped smile, which you returned nervously. “Hey, Rhett. Perry. How are you boys tonight?”

Perry said, “We’re just fine. Thanks for askin’. Looks like you’re havin’ a good time tonight.” He nodded to the four beers that Glen had just placed in front of you.

You laughed, “Oh no! These aren’t all mine. Jade, Sarah, Amber, and I are having a girl’s night out and I’m just getting the refills.” You turned to Rhett. “You look really dapper tonight. I haven’t seen you this cleaned up in a long time. Who’s the lucky girl?”

He chuckled as he took a swig from his bottle. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

“Well, whoever she is, she’s one lucky lady. However, there is one thing that’s just a little off with your outfit.”

“And what’s that?”

You don’t know what possessed you to do it. Maybe it was how nice he looked tonight or the three beers you had already drunk or just the fact you wanted to see his beautiful blue eyes without him hiding them. But whatever the reason, you reached out and plucked the hat off Rhett’s head before placing it on your own, pulling the brim down low. Then, peeking out from under it, you said, “There. Now you’re perfect. See ya later, boys.”

As you grabbed the beers and walked off, you noticed both Rhett’s and Perry’s jaws drop slightly at your action, and you wondered what you did that would warrant such a response. Sure, you stole Rhett’s hat, but they knew it was just teasing… right?

Approaching your table, you were surprised to see all of your friends were wearing similarly astonished expressions to that of the two men you had just walked away from. As you slid back into the booth, you asked, “What? What’s with the looks?”

Amber shook her head. “I cannot believe you did that! Way to finally step up and make your move!”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I was just playing around.”

Exchanging confused looks, your friends muttered softly to themselves before Sarah finally spoke up. “Wait…. You do know what you just did, don’t you?”

You shrugged as you took a sip of your drink. “I stole his hat. Big deal. I’ll give it back before I leave.”

“No, hun, it’s cowboy law.” When you just stared blankly at her, Sarah smiled. “How have you lived here your whole life and never heard about this? If you steal a cowboy’s hat, it means you have to go home with him.”

You choked on your beer. “It means what? I didn’t…. I mean, I never…. Rhett has to know I was just joking, right?” You glanced back over your shoulder at the younger Abbott boy. His eyes were still fixed firmly on you as he sipped his beer. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and quickly turned away. Realizing you were still wearing his hat, you swiftly removed it and placed it on the table in front of you. Looking at your friends’ grinning faces, you asked, “What do I do now?”

“Well, if I were you, I’d go rope myself a cowboy. But seeing as you’ve been secretly drooling over Rhett Abbott for the past ten years or so without ever trying to make even the smallest of moves on him, I’m guessing that’s not an option.” Jade smirked. “Why don’t you just go explain the misunderstanding?”

You bit your lip as you rubbed at the label on your beer. “I guess. But he was waiting for another girl. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Well, then you better hurry before she shows up. Do you really want to try to explain yourself in front of his date too?” Amber asked.

“No, good point. I guess now is as good of a time as any.” Hesitantly, you stood up and walked towards the bar once more though you had no idea what you were going to say once you reached your destination.

Rhett glanced up at you as you approached. “Hey… can we talk for a minute?” You held out his hat as you nervously chewed on your lip.

Rhett gave you a sly half-smile as he took his hat from you and returned it to its rightful place atop his head. “‘Course,” he said as he slid off his bar stool. Placing one hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the door, you tried to ignore the snickers and catcalls of his brother and your friends. With every step, you could feel his hand rubbing against your back through your thin shirt and you couldn’t help but imagine his hand slipping just a little lower. You were so glad he was behind you so he couldn’t see the way you were licking your lips or how you were intently concentrating on keeping your breathing at a normal pace.

Luckily when the two of you exited the bar, there was no one hanging around outside. You didn’t need anyone else to witness the awkward conversation that was about to take place.

As you turned to face him, Rhett shoved his hands in his pockets and asked, “So, whatcha want ta talk about?”

“I didn’t know. When I took your hat, I didn’t know what it meant,” you blurted out as you began nervously pacing in front of him. “I thought I was just being playful or… or fun. I- I didn’t know it was a way of…. I would never have taken it if I’d known about cowboy law! You got all dressed up for someone else and I don’t want you to think I was trying to ruin your night or anything! I would never want you to feel-”

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” Rhett cut off your rambling as he placed his hands on your shoulders with a reassuring smile. “I don’t expect you ta do anythin’ you don’t wanna. It’s just a stupid thing people joke about, it’s not a real law that we have ta follow.” He paused for a moment as he ducked his head, once again hiding behind his hat as he kicked at the gravel beneath his boots. “And honestly…. this conversation isn’t really unexpected. I was surprised you took my hat in the first place. After the initial shock wore off, I figured you must not of known what it meant, otherwise you never would’ve taken it.”

You were relieved that he was so understanding about the situation, but there was something about his last statement that you didn’t quite understand. “You’re right,” you said slowly, “but if I did know, why do you think it would be so unbelievable that I would want to steal your hat?”

You saw the muscles twitch in his neck as he clenched his jaw, the only part of his face not obscured by his hat. “Because you’re you and I’m me. And girls like you don’t go for guys like me.”

He started to head back into the bar, but you grabbed his hand before he could. Your eyes darted across his face, trying to confirm that you had heard him correctly. And when he refused to meet your gaze, you knew. You weren’t the only one who had been harboring a secret desire over the years.

Running your other hand down his broad chest, you said, “That’s what you think? That I wouldn’t want you? Rhett…. There are no guys like you. There’s just you and then every other guy in the world. How are they supposed to compare? Once I met you, how was I supposed to ever want anyone else?”

For the first time since he put his hat back on, he nudged the brim up and you got a good look at his eyes. There was something burning within them that you had never seen before. They bore into you, looking for the same confirmation you had received just moments before. And when you gave him a small smile and a nod, the flames in his eyes intensified.

He took a few steps closer, pushing you back until you were pressed flush against the wall. Then he leaned over until his lips were hovering mere inches from yours and the deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you every single day since you walked into Mrs. Peterson’s English class junior year. So beautiful, so smart, so sweet.” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face before trailing a finger across your cheek. “But I never imagined you could feel the same way.”

You hesitated for a second, your tongue running across the seam of your lips as you gazed up at him. “Rhett…. I….” Suddenly, you remembered something. “What about the other girl?”

His hand dropped from your face. “What other girl?”

“The one you got dressed up for.”

As he finally realized what you were talking about, he grinned. “There was never another girl. I overheard Sarah talkin’ the other day about your girl’s night out comin’ up so I wanted ta look nice in case I saw you tonight.”

You recalled what he said before when you mentioned how nice he looked and asked who he was trying to show off for. You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya. And he was right. You never would have believed he would be trying to impress you. Yet, after all this time, the two of you had been longing for the same thing. And tonight, you were finally going to get it.

Reaching up, you removed his hat once more. As you set it loosely on your head, you whispered, “I know the rules now. I know what this means. So….. what are you going to do about it?”

The burning in Rhett’s eyes flashed brighter for just a second before he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lips. You could taste the salty sting of sweat and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol on his breath, but it somehow felt so like him that you didn’t mind.

As you leaned into him, his hand slid around to the front of your throat as his fingers lightly traced the edge of your jaw. His touch was soft and tender, yet you could feel the strength his hands possessed. You had seen him cling to the back of a rage-filled 1600-pound bull with a single one of those hands. The very hand that was currently resting on your throat. The thought of what he could do to you if he wanted to sent an unexpected pulse of desire through your core. He was holding your life in his hand, yet you had never felt more safe and secure in your life.

In the back of your mind, a small voice reminded you that you were in a very public area where anyone could come across the two of you. But a much louder voice didn’t care. You couldn’t care about anything while Rhett Abbott’s fingers danced across your bare skin and his lips devoured yours.

However, he seemed to have the same thought as you did because he tore away from you, his chest heaving and his eyes blown wide with desire. “My truck’s in the parking lot. It’ll be tight and we’ll still have ta be quick, but at least it’ll be a little more private than this.” The hand not around your throat slipped down and his fingers brushed the small line of skin that was showing between the bottom of your shirt and the top of your jeans.

You moaned as your head fell back against the wall. He repeated the motion, slipping his fingers just below the line of your pants. Arching back, you gasped, “Or… my place is only three blocks from here. All the privacy we could want, a nice soft bed, a warm shower, and all the room we would need. Plus…. You could stay as long as you wanted.”

Rhett leaned his head down until his forehead rested on the brim of his hat – which was still resting on top of your head – before he asked in a deep rumble, “And what if I never wanna leave?”

Without taking your eyes off of his, your finger slipped through one of his belt loops and you pulled him in closer until his body was pressed tightly against yours. Feeling how much he wanted you, you rolled your hips slowly into him, causing his breath to hitch slightly. “Then you never have to.”

The first thing you saw as your eyes fluttered open the next morning was Rhett’s sleeping face. In this unconscious state, he looked so much more relaxed and peaceful than you ever saw him during his waking hours. His jaw wasn’t tensed and his brow wasn’t furrowed. For once, he didn’t look like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Instead, he looked like the boy you had first met all those years ago.

His lips moved slightly, soundlessly speaking to someone only he could see. But then, your name tumbled from his lips and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. As your own smile spread across your face, you leaned over and kissed him. He moaned softly before his hand rose to cup your face. You pulled yourself against him until your chest was flush with his side, the thin sheet the only thing separating your naked bodies, yet it still felt like too much of a barrier. You had finally been given a taste of Rhett Abbott, and it was enough to know you never wanted anybody else.

As he pulled away, he blinked a few times as he tried to gain his bearings. “I’m I still dreamin’ or are you actually real?”

You placed a soft kiss on his neck before nuzzling your face against his shoulder. “I wondered the same thing when I opened my eyes and saw you laying there. But no dream could match what we shared last night.”

The two of you laid there for a few moments in contented silence before you happened to catch sight of the clock. Sighing, you said, “Hey, you better get going. Your dad’s going to be expecting you at the ranch pretty soon.”

Rhett shifted slightly as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “And what if I don’t care? What if I just wanna stay here like this all day?”

You grinned as you tilted your face to place another, longer kiss along his jaw. “As much as I would love that, I’ve seen your dad when he’s angry and I don’t really want to be on the receiving end of that.”

Rhett sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re right.” Reluctantly, he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.

As he sat there for a moment, you draped yourself across his bare back, your arms wrapped around his neck. Nuzzling your nose into his hair, you murmured, “I’m sorry neither one of us ever said anything sooner. We could have done this a long time ago.”

“Don’t remind me. There were plenty of long, lonely nights I slept in a cold bed alone. Ta think you could’ve been there with me….” He turned his head and captured your lips once more.

Finally, he rose off the bed and began gathering up his clothes. Although, this process took much longer than it should have due to your constant presence by his side. The way the two of you moved around each other was almost magnetic. As soon as you would pull away, Rhett’s hands or his mouth would be on you once more. And as soon as he started to put some distance between you, your arms would wrap around him or your lips would find a new spot to pepper with kisses.

However, after about thirty minutes of this, Rhett was finally dressed and now running very late. You sat down on the bed as you watched him head for the door. But as he placed his hand on the doorknob, you softly spoke up, “Rhett… do you think…. This wasn’t just a one-time thing, was it?”

He turned back to you, a soft smile on his lips. “I was hopin’ this would be an all-the-time thing. In fact, do you wanna get dinner with me tonight? Doesn’t have to go further than that but I thought-”

“Yes.” You quickly cut him off. “I would love to get dinner with you. And I wouldn’t be opposed to going further than that.”

Rhett ducked his head as his smile grew wider. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He turned once more to go but hesitated. Removing his hat, he walked over to the bed and placed it on your head. “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Biting your lip to keep your grin from splitting your face in two, you pulled him down into yet another kiss. When you broke apart, you cooed, “You know, there’s a second part of cowboy law. I looked it up last night while you were in the shower. If a girl takes a cowboy’s hat, it means they plan on going home with him. But if a cowboy gives a girl his hat…. It really means something.”

“No. It means everythin’.” He cupped your face in his hand and ran his thumb across your cheekbone. You gazed into his clear blue eyes and you could still see the spark from last night burning there. But there was something else too. The fire, the desire was still there, but it had shifted into something deeper, and you wondered if he could see that same feeling reflected in your eyes as you stared at him.

Rhett nodded once, as if he could hear your silent question, then he turned and quickly walked out the door with a final, “I’ll see you tonight.”

The second the door clicked shut, you jumped off of the bed and hurried over to your closet. You had to find the perfect outfit for tonight. Something that was sexy, stylish, and matched your new hat.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996

#sfw repost #fic #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x f!reader #outer range #lewis pullman #fluff #love confession #mutual pining #kissing tw

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liebgotts-lovergirl · 5 months

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Fire On Fire: Chapter 28

(Ch. 27) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: “If we could light up the room with pain, we’d be such a glorious fire.” - Ada Limon

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence, Death, Espionage, Survivor's Guilt, the usual.

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me fucking FOREVER to get this out, y'all! A LOT has been going on in these past months (the demise of a longterm relationship, renovations on my house, new jobs etc) but I hope this is worth the wait! 💖

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @bellewintersroe @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @suugrbunz @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu @emmylindersson @flowers-and-fichte

Contemporary: Midnight, December 3rd, 1944. Liart Station, France.

When the door to her private train compartment was opened, Alix made a silent promise to herself: As soon as the war was over, she was turning in her goddamn resignation letter to the OSS and going home. She couldn’t handle any more surprises on the job, not like this one.

“Sorry, I’m late, gorgeous," a lowered voice had remarked wryly as soon as the compartment door slid shut once more.

"You wouldn’t believe the traffic.”

The whisper came from a young man in a heavy coat who casually dropped into the seat next to her as though he belonged there. The dark brim of his fedora was pulled low over his eyes, casting his face in shadow, but she didn’t need to see its entirety to know who it was; she would recognize that gravelly voice anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded out of the corner of her mouth, making sure to keep her expression neutral as she flipped through her newspaper and fought the urge to smack the newcomer with it.

“Thought Nix woulda told ya,” Liebgott looked almost amused, a smirk playing on his lips.

He too spoke out of the corner of his mouth; someone had taught him well.

“Donovan needed an interrogator with an Austrian dialect. Said this one’s gonna be a real doozy. Called me in as a temp.”

Alix’s dark eyes narrowed, causing her blue contacts to sting.

“You’re the floater? You’re–”

“Lieutenant Fritz Eberhardt,” he finished with a nod, casually taking his right hand out of his pocket to reveal the worn, silver skull ring of the Werwolf Kommandos, engraved with the tell-tale motto of the SS:

‘Meine Ehre Heisst Treue’.

My Honor Means Loyalty.

How ironic.

The paratrooper and translator shot her a roguish wink, leaning back with an arm stretched out lazily along the back of his seat like nothing was wrong.

“I've been assigned to accompany you to your Paris engagement, Fraulein."

The spy stiffened.

This was the first time that she could recall ever seeing Joe out of uniform and it would be a shame to get blood all over his nice coat but sweet Jesus, Alix was about ready to make that sacrifice.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the auburn-haired girl muttered under her breath. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

“You don’t gotta worry ‘bout me,” Joe chuckles. “Trust me-”

"Right, because that's gone so well for me before," the spy snapped sharper than intended.

Joe's eyebrows shot to the compartment ceiling, his cocky demeanor gone in a flash, replaced by a sudden scowl.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

Before Alix could find the words to reply, the shrill whistle of the train screamed out, indicating their departure from Liart Station and the spy took a shaky breath, hearing the rumbling of the wheels on the track underneath them.

She was stuck with him now.

Trying to ignore the ache in her chest at Joe's unexpected presence, Alix tried to force her unfocused eyes to stare at the newspaper in her hands but the words only blurred before her.

"Didja do a bug sweep already?" Joe inquired with a casual yawn as he glanced across her to the window, while Alix flipped the page of her newspaper so hard that she nearly tore it.

"Of course I did," the spy answered indignantly, unable to contain her irritation.

"That's why you were supposed to come early: to help me look. Listening devices could've been anywhere in here."

“Don’t gimme that shit,” Joe scoffed in an almost dismissive tone as he tapped the filter of his Reemtsma cigarette.

“Since the liberation, the Krauts have lost a lot of resources and stick to their secret little underground social clubs or whatever. I got the whole rundown from HQ.”

Alix huffed.

Joe was right, damn him.

While on the surface, France had cleaned up its act, the rotten undergrowth of Nazis and their collaborators remained, festering beneath the surface.

The chances of them taking the time to bug train compartments were miniscule at best.

“Still,” she responded with a petulant roll of her eyes. “You should’ve been here on time. You never know.”

"Yeah, well you ain't the only one with shit to take care of, okay? I got held up."

Alix's dark eyes flickered up from her newspaper.

"Define 'held up'," she said coolly, an undeniably bitter edge to her tone. “What, pray tell, was so pressing?”

Joe crossed his arms and took a long drag off his cigarette before replying snippily,

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Tatiana.”

"It's Tanya, Alix snapped before flipping another page on her newspaper as though she were reading it instead of boring holes into Joe’s face.

“And I would like to know, actually. Because I'd like to think you wouldn't be late to your first assignment without a good reason but maybe I don't know you as well as I thought."

“Fine.”

Joe's warm brown eyes were suddenly as hard as the wood paneling in the compartment they shared but he shifted the side of his coat up nonetheless, just enough to show a huge cherry-red stain that had blossomed across one side of his ribs.

"There, that a good enough reason for ya?"

“Madonna mia!” Alix exclaimed, all pretense of anger gone in a flash. “What the hell happened?! Are you alright?”

Joe shrugged nonchalantly.

“Somebody did a shit job friskin' the prisoners so ol' Jerry got to bring a fuckin' boot knife with him to interrogation,” he muttered as he readjusted his coat. "'S not as bad as it looks.”

"Did you have Gene take a look at it?" Alix asked, eyeing his red-soaked shirt with concern. "That's a lot of blood…"

"No, I didn't have 'Gene' look at it," Joe shot back, a mocking edge to his voice as he spat the medic's name, biting down on his cigarette.

"’S fine. Barely a scratch."

The auburn-haired girl snorted, unable to keep the skepticism out of her tone.

"Right, and I'm the Queen of England."

The translator took a long drag, his expression unreadable.

“Well, I ain’t your problem anymore,Your Majesty,” he remarked sardonically as he let the smoke curl into the air.

"So you can lay off."

“You’ll always be my problem,” Alix grumbled under her breath and the pair lapsed into a chilly silence, broken only by the occasional rustling of the newspaper under her fingertips and the rumbling of the train on the tracks.

Still keeping her head angled downward to avoid that familiar ache that seemed to rise in her chest whenever she looked him in the face, Alix let herself study the compartment instead.

In truth, their private compartment was borderline ostentatious – plush maroon upholstery upon the seating, rich mahogany paneling upon the walls, thick velvet curtains adorning the windows to keep the outside world at bay– but the spy could barely concentrate on the luxurious decor either.

Instead, she found herself studying Joe's hands. She still had only fleeting memories of him from before her fall but his hands were one of the few things she remembered the most.

They had been paler back in England, not yet marred by the blood and grime of the battlefield, the blue veins still snaking up the back all the way to his wrist. She remembered tangled sheets and breathless laughter as they each struggled to catch their breath. She remembered her own scarlet-polished nails tracing each vein in the hand resting beside her, feeling the way his pulse would quicken when she smiled at him.

His fingers were still as calloused and long as she remembered, almost graceful in their strength, and she could still feel the ghost of them interlocking with her own like missing puzzle pieces finally finding their way together.

There weren’t any more ink stains on his fingertips, Alix realized, and she was suddenly half-tempted to make a snide remark about chasing two girls and getting neither, but she kept her silence.

No need to make an already awkward situation worse, she thought as she chewed on her bottom lip.

Like it or not, they had a mission to complete.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

The French countryside seemed to pass by in blurs of green, gold, and blue, like the vibrant swirls of a priceless Van Gogh but Alix hardly noticed.

The spy had been fiddling with the worn handle of a discarded leather briefcase that had been left behind in the luggage rack under her seat. Beside her, Joe was violently twisting the Werwolf skull ring around and around upon his finger, wrenching it with such ferocity that it looked as though he might tear his finger off in the process.

"I hate this," he muttered bitterly, seemingly more to himself than to Alix as he glared down at his calloused hands.

"I fuckin' hate this."

"Hate what?" the spy inquired softly, cocking her head and allowing some of her auburn hair to fall over one shoulder.

Joe glanced up at the sound of her voice, clearly not expecting her to speak to him, but he recovered fast as ever.

"This," he replied simply, gesturing to the Werwolf skull ring.

"Wearing this. Gevalt, it makes me wanna claw my fuckin' skin off.”

Alix felt a pang of sympathy. She couldn’t even fathom the excruciating cognitive dissonance Joe must be experiencing right now, playing a role he despised…but why bother playing it in the first place?

Why put himself through the unnecessary pain? He was only a floater– a consultant– for this one mission. He had the power to back out at any time. It didn’t make sense but then, nothing about Joe seemed to make much sense lately.

Alix watched as he lit up another cigarette, his third in an hour, glaring across her, out the window at something unseen.

He was chainsmoking again, like he always did when he was agitated, and all she could do was let the silence sit and watch him wrench the skull ring harder and harder around his finger.

It was unsettling when Joe was quiet: his rage she could combat; his brooding she couldn’t.

The auburn-haired spy found herself sneaking quick glances over at him out of the corner of her eye, the tension hanging thick in the air around them like the early morning fog.

Surprisingly, Joe was the first to break.

“Look, you got somethin’ to say, just say it.”

“What is there to say?” Alix retorted, her grip on the briefcase’s handle tightening considerably.

“I’m perfectly capable of traveling on my own. I don't need a floater and I certainly don't need you.”

Joe crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the seat.

“Well tell that to Donovan then, ziskeit,” he yawns.

"'Cause I got orders to watch your six till the job's done."

Alix opened her mouth to complain but she was interrupted by a light knocking on the compartment door and Joe immediately shoved his right hand deep into his pocket to hide the infamous skull ring.

A disgruntled train attendant appeared, regarding both Joe and Alix with the same beady, bloodshot stare as he stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him.

“Papers,” the Frenchman demanded with an outstretched hand.

Alix nodded with a casual “Certainement” and set aside the discarded briefcase, retrieving her false identification from her handbag and passing it to the man with what she hoped was a convincingly haughty eyeroll.

The attendant--whose yellowed nametag identified him as Guillaume-- wore a peevish expression almost identical to their old CO, Captain Sobel, which brought a smirk to Alix's face.

The thought of the sadistic superior officer who had made their lives hell for so long being reduced to a glorified bellhop punching tickets and checking IDs was enough to bring them both a smidgen of joy.

Her gaze flickered over to Joe, who returned the smirk with one of his own, the inside joke seeming to almost bridge the gap between them.

The attendant skimmed over Alix's paperwork, handing it back to her without issue, and then it was Joe's turn.

“You, identification.”

Compliantly, Joe dug into his jacket pocket for his passport with his left hand but as he passed the small booklet to the attendant, it slipped from his fingers toward the carpet.

Automatically, the translator’s dominant hand shot out of his right pocket to intercept them but it was too late: the skull ring on his right hand was in full view.

The attendant swore as he snatched up Joe’s fake Austrian passport, staring down at it and back to the tell-tale ring as his face reddened with rage.

“Y-You-” he snarled, his lip curled in disgust and a gloved finger shaking as he pointed at Joe. “You are-”

“Wha- No, no!” Joe protested, immediately reaching out for his passport back in a desperate bid to quiet him.

“I’m not-”

But the Frenchman shoved him off roughly and spat an anti-German epithet at him as Joe’s back hit the seat.

“Boche!”

Joe’s eyes narrowed instantly at the slur and he came back strong, lunging forward to seize the attendant by the collar but Alix stood up, trying to shove her way between them to keep the scuffle from getting out of hand.

The auburn-haired spy could smell the heavy stench of cheap wine on the older man's breath as she separated the pair and she knew there was no reasoning with him.

The drunken attendant spun on his heel, immediately heading for the compartment door, his final words slurred as his rage boiled over.

“Filthy swine! Nazi pig! You-”

Alix felt a block of ice drop into her stomach as the man’s large, gloved hand reached the door handle.

It was no secret that since the liberation, people of German extraction weren't exactly welcome in most of French polite society.

The épuration sauvage was in full-swing, thousands of suspected collaborators being beaten, tortured, and executed by incensed crowds of French people.

If this man went and ran his mouth off about a Werwolf Kommando on the train, Joe could be mobbed as soon as he set foot outside their compartment.

This chilling revelation seemed to flip a switch in Alix’s brain: If the man left their compartment, Joe’s life could be in danger.

She couldn’t take that risk.

Slipping behind the drunken attendant with the silent ease of a tigress, the world seemed to slow around her as her training kicked in. Hopping onto the seat for a better vantage point, Alix reached out and yanked the attendant backwards into the compartment by the collar.

The man staggered a couple steps back, thrown off-balance in his surprise, just close enough for Alix to deftly slice the small blade of her lipstick knife across his throat.

The weapon reached the targeted arteries with surgical precision, right below the larynx. Now unable to scream, the man could only gasp and gargle as his legs gave out and he sank downwards toward the carpet in a heap. Following him down to the ground, Alix gathered the excess fabric of her dress's skirt and slapped the material over the wound to stifle the bright arcs of blood that were spurting out like a gruesome fountain.

The pale lace was already growing heavy, turning from an icy blue to a deep, blood-soaked maroon, the arterial spray oozing through the delicate material slower and slower as the man’s heart gradually stopped beating.

Then the attendant went limp, his jaw falling slack as a sickening gurgle emanated from his cut throat, and the auburn-haired spy knew he was gone.

No loose ends, she told herself inwardly, repeating the instructions of her superiors over and over like a mantra in her head.

He could have gotten Joe killed. You did the right thing.

But did she?

She didn’t even remember pulling the knife, not really.

Not that it mattered: a civilian was still dead.

Alix’s hands were shaking as she stared down at the attendant’s lifeless form, too scared to see the shock and revulsion written all over Joe’s handsome face.

He’d never seen her kill, after all.

If he didn’t hate her before, he most certainly would now.

But when she finally looked up, there was nothing like that.

No disgust, no outrage, no fear.

Instead, there was the same old glint to his gaze and an unspoken warmth in his whiskey-brown eyes that filled her with a strange calm.

“Well ya didn’t hafta do all that, Zees,” Joe remarked finally as a small, lopsided smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“But I ‘preciate it. Nice to know you care.”

“I don’t,” the auburn-haired girl muttered as she knelt, quickly rifling through the corpse’s bloodied uniform for anything useful.

A billfold full of francs and an identification card from the train company.

Alix handed the wallet over to Joe, averting her gaze to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the brush of their fingertips.

“He was putting the mission in jeopardy,” she added lamely and straightened up, shifting the thick curtains to the side so she could undo the window’s latch.

“Yeah?” Joe snorted as he dragged the lifeless body by its outstretched arms to the open window and turned back to shoot her a sly wink over his shoulder.

His usual crooked grin quirked up one corner of his lips wryly, almost flirtatiously, and the knowing expression in his whiskey-colored eyes caused a small flurry of butterflies to appear once more in her stomach.

It was like he could see right through her.

“Well Ziskeit, ‘the mission’ thanks you.”

With a grunt, the scrappy paratrooper managed to haul the corpse half onto the window’s ledge before turning back to his partner.

“Now let's get this mamzer dealt with, huh?”

Alix hoisted the corpse's legs up, giving it a final, unceremonious shove out the window, sending it rolling down into the snowy French countryside somewhere.

That was one problem taken care of...But unfortunately, there were more where that came from.

"Madonna mia," Alix swore as she frowned down at the blood-spattered blue material of her dress.

“I gotta dump this somewhere.”

Joe took his seat again and shrugged, watching Alix's nimble fingers close the window once more and re-draw the curtains.

“So change then."

The auburn-haired girl balked, nearly losing her footing in her surprise.

“Right now?"

“Nah, next Tuesday,” the paratrooper deadpanned with a melodramatic roll of his eyes. “Christ, Zees, you're actin' like I ain't ever seen ya undress before. Hey, remember that one night at your billet when-”

“Don’t remind me,” Alix muttered, the infuriatingly obvious blush of her cheeks making her grit her teeth as the night he is referring to comes back in vivid colors.

She shook her head to banish the memories, her straightened auburn hair tumbling down her shoulders.

"Besides, it was a long time ago anyway. It doesn't matter now."

The lie tasted bitter as cyanide.

"Yeah?" Joe took another slow drag off his cigarette, watching the smoke curl up to the ceiling before he spoke again, his raspy tenor flat with thinly-veiled hurt.

"Guess that's the difference between you an' me. 'Cause to me, it matters a fuckin' lot."

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