Saiyuki Fic: Hungry Jess 6
Many, many thanks to new_kate for putting up with all my whining about this fic.
And still worksafe! Propriety, yo.
Still need a Jess icon.
Part the: First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth
The Legend of Hungry Jess Thimbleton
~and Other Tall Tales~
Personages:
Goku ~as~ Hungry Jess Thimbleton, a fearless pioneer whose luck, strength and appetite are known throughout the territories.
Sanzo ~as~ Deadeye Sally MacGruder, sharpest shot west of the Mississip’. The only thing quicker than her revolvers is her foul temper.
Gojyo ~as~ Chief Iron Rod aka Clarence DuFay. A lecherous mulatto bandit from Louisianne, infamous for his dashing good looks, trademark war bonnet and fancy riding. Known kidnapper, drunkard and ravisher of women everywhere.
Hakkai ~as~ William P. Quincy, a demure school teacher from Duxberry, Massachusetts, who moved West with his sister and her new husband.
and
Nataku ~as~ Jenner Birch, Jess’s Rival.
Hakuryuu ~as~ White Lightning, a Faithful Steed.
Kougaiji ~as~ Wyatt the Red, Gentleman Bandit.
Dokugakuji, Yaone and Lirin ~as~ Dolly, Nancy and Lacy Varley, Wyatt’s Gang
Homura ~as~ Mr. Grover Teasdale, Son of a Railroad Tycoon.
Zenon and Shien ~as~ Cormac Finn and Yu Yun, Teasdale’s Henchmen.
Rinrei ~as~ Miss Catalina Barnes of the Savannah Barnes, a Lady.
also featuring
Hazel ~as~ Sheriff Eustace Brewer, an agent of Love and/or Justice.
Gato ~as~ A Giant.
Koumyou ~as~ Eveline MacGruder, Matron of the Crystal Peak Sanitarium.
and
Nii ~as~ Dr. Vernon Borowitz (alias), a Quack.
~Part the Sixth~
The Angel in the House
Their clearing was a mess of scuff marks, bullet casings and torn turf. Their new broom lay forlorn in the middle of it, handle splintered into three pieces. The inside of the cozy dugout house hadn’t faired much better. The cabinet was on its side, crockery smashed beyond all hope of repair, lamp leaking onto the whitewashed dirt floor. Two of their three chairs were broken, and their feather bed was torn and spilling a small drift of down into the corner. That woman sat in the last intact chair, smoking a clay pipe and cleaning a revolver on the small table. The bare-footed boy from earlier that morning was elbow-deep in their stew pot, scraping the last of the gravy from its insides.
“Oh dear,” William said, making a conscious effort to loosen the muscles of his jaw.
“Told you it was a bad idea to leave her here by herself,” Clarence said under his breath.
“And I told you you didn't have to come with me to look for willow bark.”
Clarence's glance was torn between lustful and exasperated, “As if I really could- Er.” He flushed, then rattled on, “Um. Heh. We did forget the bark, huh?”
“That's quite all right,” William said, smiling, “My headache is much improved.”
He turned back to their guests, and inquired politely after their health. “I do hope no one was hurt.”
“No one but Mr. Fancypants there,” laughed the boy, “Though all that fightin’ made me awful hungry. Hey, mister, you got any more of this stew? It was deeelicious!”
The woman was thrusting the bore-rod through the barrel viciously, and seemed intent on ignoring them; perhaps she thought her weapon ensured her safety. William was sure that it would not, were she to begin yelling again. Clarence was staring. William elbowed him to remind him not to be rude.
“Hey, what was that f- Wait, you ate all my stew? All of it?” Clarence protested, marching across the wreckage of their home and getting the boy in a headlock, “A man needs his meat when he comes home from a long day of riding.”
“Hey, lemme go!” the boy said, flailing his arms as Clarence rubbed his knuckles vigorously into his scalp.
The woman snorted and began working oil onto the barrel's shaft.
“Well, then.” Smiling at her hurt William’s face, so he began sifting through the remains of the cupboard. “If you'll excuse us, we have a lot of work to do to put our home back in order, and I think it would be best if you-”
“Will!” Clarence protested, “No one escapes Chief Iron Rod, scourge of the high plains!”
“Clarence, you’re from Louisiana,” William sighed, a note of displeasure not quite entering his voice.
“Not helping!” Clarence said, teeth clenched, “Besides, this brat ate everything and look what he did to our house!”
Clarence had the boy half-pinned on the ground, and the boy appeared to be biting him just above the knee.
“Well,” William said, adopting his most reasonable tone, “You were saying just last night that it was time to think about moving.”
“Was I? Ow! You little-”
“California, I think we agreed. I’ll need a hand with the mattress-“
“California!” the boy shouted, shrugging Clarence off like a particularly beefy jacket and bouncing to his feet. “Hey, that’s just where I’m headed! My name’s Jess Thimbleton, and this here’s Miss Sally MacGruder, and we’d just love to come with ya!”
“We?” the woman growled, flipping the loaded cylinder shut. Her speaking voice had all the dulcet charm of an rusty cross-cut saw. She recoiled as Clarence dropped to one knee before her and kissed the back of her hand.
“Miss Sally MacGruder, it’s an honor to have you with us,” he said, suavely. “With your legendary skills there’s no way our journey-”
The discharge of her firearm was entirely too loud in the confined space of the house and the bullet hole now smoking on the floor was entirely too close to Clarence's groin. Their last intact tea cup appeared to have shattered. William let its pieces fall from his fingers.
“I,” Sally MacGruder said, jerking her hand from Clarence’s hold, “am not going any where with the likes of you.”
“But California, Miss Sally,” Jess whined, eyes huge and shining.
“No. That Sheriff took something of mine and I’m not leaving with out it.”
“But Sally -”
“Look, kid, you’re the one who wanted to be in my gang.“
“For a Lady in distress, I would-“ Clarence began.
“NO,” Sally and Will said, simultaneously and emphatically.
“Well,” William said into the ringing silence, “I don’t suppose I might have a word with you outside, madam?”
Sally eyed him suspiciously, huffed, “Fine,” and stomped out, holstering her revolver at her hip.
William leaned over Clarence, picked a bit straw from his long, dark hair, and slid a finger from breastbone to oversized sliver belt buckle. Clarence shivered under the touch, head falling back a bit and exposing the dark smudge of a large hickey under his jaw. William eyed it with fierce satisfaction and said, brightly, “Would you be so good as to load the wagon while I speak with our guest? I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
*
Mr. Grover Teasdale clutched his aching head with one hand and his aching thigh with the other. The blinds of his drawing room were shut tightly against the afternoon sun. By the side board, his friend and henchman, Cormac Finn, was doing something with raw eggs and whiskey that he did not want to watch.
That woman had shot him. And then gotten away. And, most enraging of all, had declined his offer to dine with him. Twice.
Rare beauty only made up for so much.
He was saved from Cormac’s foul-smelling concoction and his incomprehensibly-accented explanation of its beneficial properties by the timely arrival of his other friend and henchman, Yu Yun, with a slip of paper on a silver tray. It said:
CATALINA BARNES OF THE SAVANNAH BARNES TO ARRIVE ON 4:00 WEDNESDAY EN ROUTE TO CRYSTAL PEAK STOP. TRUST SHE WILL BE TREATED AS A LADY STOP. REGARDS STOP. YOUR FATHER STOP.
Grover massaged his temples. He remembered Miss Catalina as a small, pale girl of unfortunate roundness. He did hope she had improved herself in the last ten years; it was always so uncomfortable when unattractive women threw themselves at him.
Charms such as his were truly an awesome responsibility.
~Tune in next week for Part the Seventh: Reeling Mathilda~
And still worksafe! Propriety, yo.
Still need a Jess icon.
Part the: First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth
The Legend of Hungry Jess Thimbleton
~and Other Tall Tales~
Personages:
Goku ~as~ Hungry Jess Thimbleton, a fearless pioneer whose luck, strength and appetite are known throughout the territories.
Sanzo ~as~ Deadeye Sally MacGruder, sharpest shot west of the Mississip’. The only thing quicker than her revolvers is her foul temper.
Gojyo ~as~ Chief Iron Rod aka Clarence DuFay. A lecherous mulatto bandit from Louisianne, infamous for his dashing good looks, trademark war bonnet and fancy riding. Known kidnapper, drunkard and ravisher of women everywhere.
Hakkai ~as~ William P. Quincy, a demure school teacher from Duxberry, Massachusetts, who moved West with his sister and her new husband.
and
Nataku ~as~ Jenner Birch, Jess’s Rival.
Hakuryuu ~as~ White Lightning, a Faithful Steed.
Kougaiji ~as~ Wyatt the Red, Gentleman Bandit.
Dokugakuji, Yaone and Lirin ~as~ Dolly, Nancy and Lacy Varley, Wyatt’s Gang
Homura ~as~ Mr. Grover Teasdale, Son of a Railroad Tycoon.
Zenon and Shien ~as~ Cormac Finn and Yu Yun, Teasdale’s Henchmen.
Rinrei ~as~ Miss Catalina Barnes of the Savannah Barnes, a Lady.
also featuring
Hazel ~as~ Sheriff Eustace Brewer, an agent of Love and/or Justice.
Gato ~as~ A Giant.
Koumyou ~as~ Eveline MacGruder, Matron of the Crystal Peak Sanitarium.
and
Nii ~as~ Dr. Vernon Borowitz (alias), a Quack.
~Part the Sixth~
The Angel in the House
Their clearing was a mess of scuff marks, bullet casings and torn turf. Their new broom lay forlorn in the middle of it, handle splintered into three pieces. The inside of the cozy dugout house hadn’t faired much better. The cabinet was on its side, crockery smashed beyond all hope of repair, lamp leaking onto the whitewashed dirt floor. Two of their three chairs were broken, and their feather bed was torn and spilling a small drift of down into the corner. That woman sat in the last intact chair, smoking a clay pipe and cleaning a revolver on the small table. The bare-footed boy from earlier that morning was elbow-deep in their stew pot, scraping the last of the gravy from its insides.
“Oh dear,” William said, making a conscious effort to loosen the muscles of his jaw.
“Told you it was a bad idea to leave her here by herself,” Clarence said under his breath.
“And I told you you didn't have to come with me to look for willow bark.”
Clarence's glance was torn between lustful and exasperated, “As if I really could- Er.” He flushed, then rattled on, “Um. Heh. We did forget the bark, huh?”
“That's quite all right,” William said, smiling, “My headache is much improved.”
He turned back to their guests, and inquired politely after their health. “I do hope no one was hurt.”
“No one but Mr. Fancypants there,” laughed the boy, “Though all that fightin’ made me awful hungry. Hey, mister, you got any more of this stew? It was deeelicious!”
The woman was thrusting the bore-rod through the barrel viciously, and seemed intent on ignoring them; perhaps she thought her weapon ensured her safety. William was sure that it would not, were she to begin yelling again. Clarence was staring. William elbowed him to remind him not to be rude.
“Hey, what was that f- Wait, you ate all my stew? All of it?” Clarence protested, marching across the wreckage of their home and getting the boy in a headlock, “A man needs his meat when he comes home from a long day of riding.”
“Hey, lemme go!” the boy said, flailing his arms as Clarence rubbed his knuckles vigorously into his scalp.
The woman snorted and began working oil onto the barrel's shaft.
“Well, then.” Smiling at her hurt William’s face, so he began sifting through the remains of the cupboard. “If you'll excuse us, we have a lot of work to do to put our home back in order, and I think it would be best if you-”
“Will!” Clarence protested, “No one escapes Chief Iron Rod, scourge of the high plains!”
“Clarence, you’re from Louisiana,” William sighed, a note of displeasure not quite entering his voice.
“Not helping!” Clarence said, teeth clenched, “Besides, this brat ate everything and look what he did to our house!”
Clarence had the boy half-pinned on the ground, and the boy appeared to be biting him just above the knee.
“Well,” William said, adopting his most reasonable tone, “You were saying just last night that it was time to think about moving.”
“Was I? Ow! You little-”
“California, I think we agreed. I’ll need a hand with the mattress-“
“California!” the boy shouted, shrugging Clarence off like a particularly beefy jacket and bouncing to his feet. “Hey, that’s just where I’m headed! My name’s Jess Thimbleton, and this here’s Miss Sally MacGruder, and we’d just love to come with ya!”
“We?” the woman growled, flipping the loaded cylinder shut. Her speaking voice had all the dulcet charm of an rusty cross-cut saw. She recoiled as Clarence dropped to one knee before her and kissed the back of her hand.
“Miss Sally MacGruder, it’s an honor to have you with us,” he said, suavely. “With your legendary skills there’s no way our journey-”
The discharge of her firearm was entirely too loud in the confined space of the house and the bullet hole now smoking on the floor was entirely too close to Clarence's groin. Their last intact tea cup appeared to have shattered. William let its pieces fall from his fingers.
“I,” Sally MacGruder said, jerking her hand from Clarence’s hold, “am not going any where with the likes of you.”
“But California, Miss Sally,” Jess whined, eyes huge and shining.
“No. That Sheriff took something of mine and I’m not leaving with out it.”
“But Sally -”
“Look, kid, you’re the one who wanted to be in my gang.“
“For a Lady in distress, I would-“ Clarence began.
“NO,” Sally and Will said, simultaneously and emphatically.
“Well,” William said into the ringing silence, “I don’t suppose I might have a word with you outside, madam?”
Sally eyed him suspiciously, huffed, “Fine,” and stomped out, holstering her revolver at her hip.
William leaned over Clarence, picked a bit straw from his long, dark hair, and slid a finger from breastbone to oversized sliver belt buckle. Clarence shivered under the touch, head falling back a bit and exposing the dark smudge of a large hickey under his jaw. William eyed it with fierce satisfaction and said, brightly, “Would you be so good as to load the wagon while I speak with our guest? I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
*
Mr. Grover Teasdale clutched his aching head with one hand and his aching thigh with the other. The blinds of his drawing room were shut tightly against the afternoon sun. By the side board, his friend and henchman, Cormac Finn, was doing something with raw eggs and whiskey that he did not want to watch.
That woman had shot him. And then gotten away. And, most enraging of all, had declined his offer to dine with him. Twice.
Rare beauty only made up for so much.
He was saved from Cormac’s foul-smelling concoction and his incomprehensibly-accented explanation of its beneficial properties by the timely arrival of his other friend and henchman, Yu Yun, with a slip of paper on a silver tray. It said:
CATALINA BARNES OF THE SAVANNAH BARNES TO ARRIVE ON 4:00 WEDNESDAY EN ROUTE TO CRYSTAL PEAK STOP. TRUST SHE WILL BE TREATED AS A LADY STOP. REGARDS STOP. YOUR FATHER STOP.
Grover massaged his temples. He remembered Miss Catalina as a small, pale girl of unfortunate roundness. He did hope she had improved herself in the last ten years; it was always so uncomfortable when unattractive women threw themselves at him.
Charms such as his were truly an awesome responsibility.
~Tune in next week for Part the Seventh: Reeling Mathilda~