*dangles bait*
Since no one's taken the bait on writing me a damn western AU yet and I begged and cajoled robanybody too, allow me to sweeten the pot. If anyone wants to take things from here, please feel free. Fuck knows I have enough shit to write.
Kono looked up as the door to the saloon burst open; dust motes danced in the sun as Jack Wales scuffed his way inside, squinting in the gloom. She went back to cleaning behind the bar as he approached.
"There anything to drink in this fuckin' chink joint?" he demanded, bellying up to the bar.
"I refuse service to gentlemen who won't act like it," said Kono calmly.
"I'm a perfect gentleman," he insisted as he took a stool. "Anyway, you got some nerve to talk to me that way."
"That's the beauty of being the only game in town, Jack," she said cheerfully as she turned to grab the whiskey and a clean glass. Sometimes she thought about using the less-than-clean ones for types like Wales but the truth was, his money spent as well as anybody else's. She slammed his glass down on the bar in front of him and poured him a drink. "I can talk to you however I please and you'll keep coming back anyway."
He saluted her with his glass in a way that didn't seem friendly before he knocked it back and motioned for a refill. "You're a real bitch. I think you and that man of yours just drove out all the competition."
"He's not my man, he's my cousin, and there's no competition because Stanton's a dry-ass, one-horse town that missed the gold rush and saloons ain't cheap to start up," Kono shot back. Some days she couldn't take the same argument over and over; she took a deep breath and a step back from the bar.
"The railroad'll fix that," said Wales, pointing at her with his glass. "Proper white folk'll move in with the railroad and bring money with them, and business, and there won't be no more of you damn Chinamen throwing your opium money around and openin' brothels and laundries, and places with names like the Jade Pearl, and things in your squiggly writing I can't even pronounce."
Kono grabbed a rag to wipe the bar. She'd named the saloon The Stanton Grand and was proud of it. "'Us Chinamen', as you put it, are building your damned railroad, so you're welcome. And I'm Hawaiian," she said shortly.
"What?"
"I said I'm Hawaiian. Not Chinese."
"Whoa, take it easy." Wales held up his free hand at her, like she was planning to jump over the bar at him. She regretted giving him a clean glass.
Wales jumped in his seat when Chin's hand landed on his shoulder. "Jack, I think you'd better finish your drink and pay up," he suggested.
Wales looked up at Chin like he was thinking different but changed his mind. He knocked back his drink and slapped a couple of coins on the bar as he stood up.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Kono muttered as Wales wandered back out into the sun.
Chin looked at her and opened his mouth to say something reassuring (she didn't want to hear it, not right now), but then there was a call of, "Miss Kona?" from the corner, and one of the railroad workers held up an empty glass. Kono took her chance for escape and grabbed a bottle of rice wine from under the bar.
***
Danny locked the door behind him as he stepped out of the sheriff's office, ignoring the hollers of Bill Winters from inside the cell. His spurs jingled on the porch and he hopped down into the street, adjusting his hat. It had been so hot all week that he was just permanently dirty, dust sticking to the sweat on his forearms and face; he was going to stay out of the sun today if he could help it.
Jack Wales was stumbling out of the Grand already and it was barely past noon. Danny watched him head up the road, probably back to his claim, and wondered if he should stop in to see Miss Kona and Chin Ho. Probably safe until Jack knocked off for the day or Dan Ryan and his crew got restless, he decided, and so Danny just made his way slowly up the main street, checking things out and nodding at people who greeted him.
Mrs. Fielding always had a cool drink of water for him when he ambled past her boarding-house, and he was happy enough to stop in for a chat when she called him from her porch.
"Afternoon, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat and accepting a chipped enamel mug full of water.
She smiled and ushered him into the shade. "It's a hot one, isn't it, Sheriff?"
Danny wiped his brow with his forearm and resettled his hat. "It sure is, at that." He sipped his water and closed his eyes at the way it slipped down his throat, clearing out the dust. He coughed a little.
"Oh, and I've got a new boarder," she declared. "Just came in with the coach from Prescott this morning."
Danny's attention sharpened. "Really?"
She smiled at nothing in particular. "He seems like a nice young man. Says he's in from Ohio, prospecting, but I don't believe that for a second."
Danny grinned. "Oh no? Why not?"
She shook her head sadly. "There's something a bit off about him. He's a little funny." She shrugged delicately. "Paid me in advance for a week, though, cash."
"He can't be too funny, then, or at least not more than we've got in Stanton already." Danny set his empty cup on a floorboard and got up slowly from the bench again. "What's his name, ma'am?"
She had to think for a second. "McGarrett," she said, then more confidently, "Steven McGarrett, that's it."
"Well," said Danny. He looked off down the dusty main street of Stanton, trailing off into desert that rolled to the horizon, hard sand and scrub with a pale, bright sky above. "I guess we'll see about this Mr. McGarrett, won't we?"
"I suppose we will," said Mrs. Fielding placidly.
...You know you want to see where this goes. And you can imagine how long it would take me to get to showing you. I'll just let you contemplate that for a while, shall I?
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/42111.html. (
comments)
Kono looked up as the door to the saloon burst open; dust motes danced in the sun as Jack Wales scuffed his way inside, squinting in the gloom. She went back to cleaning behind the bar as he approached.
"There anything to drink in this fuckin' chink joint?" he demanded, bellying up to the bar.
"I refuse service to gentlemen who won't act like it," said Kono calmly.
"I'm a perfect gentleman," he insisted as he took a stool. "Anyway, you got some nerve to talk to me that way."
"That's the beauty of being the only game in town, Jack," she said cheerfully as she turned to grab the whiskey and a clean glass. Sometimes she thought about using the less-than-clean ones for types like Wales but the truth was, his money spent as well as anybody else's. She slammed his glass down on the bar in front of him and poured him a drink. "I can talk to you however I please and you'll keep coming back anyway."
He saluted her with his glass in a way that didn't seem friendly before he knocked it back and motioned for a refill. "You're a real bitch. I think you and that man of yours just drove out all the competition."
"He's not my man, he's my cousin, and there's no competition because Stanton's a dry-ass, one-horse town that missed the gold rush and saloons ain't cheap to start up," Kono shot back. Some days she couldn't take the same argument over and over; she took a deep breath and a step back from the bar.
"The railroad'll fix that," said Wales, pointing at her with his glass. "Proper white folk'll move in with the railroad and bring money with them, and business, and there won't be no more of you damn Chinamen throwing your opium money around and openin' brothels and laundries, and places with names like the Jade Pearl, and things in your squiggly writing I can't even pronounce."
Kono grabbed a rag to wipe the bar. She'd named the saloon The Stanton Grand and was proud of it. "'Us Chinamen', as you put it, are building your damned railroad, so you're welcome. And I'm Hawaiian," she said shortly.
"What?"
"I said I'm Hawaiian. Not Chinese."
"Whoa, take it easy." Wales held up his free hand at her, like she was planning to jump over the bar at him. She regretted giving him a clean glass.
Wales jumped in his seat when Chin's hand landed on his shoulder. "Jack, I think you'd better finish your drink and pay up," he suggested.
Wales looked up at Chin like he was thinking different but changed his mind. He knocked back his drink and slapped a couple of coins on the bar as he stood up.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Kono muttered as Wales wandered back out into the sun.
Chin looked at her and opened his mouth to say something reassuring (she didn't want to hear it, not right now), but then there was a call of, "Miss Kona?" from the corner, and one of the railroad workers held up an empty glass. Kono took her chance for escape and grabbed a bottle of rice wine from under the bar.
***
Danny locked the door behind him as he stepped out of the sheriff's office, ignoring the hollers of Bill Winters from inside the cell. His spurs jingled on the porch and he hopped down into the street, adjusting his hat. It had been so hot all week that he was just permanently dirty, dust sticking to the sweat on his forearms and face; he was going to stay out of the sun today if he could help it.
Jack Wales was stumbling out of the Grand already and it was barely past noon. Danny watched him head up the road, probably back to his claim, and wondered if he should stop in to see Miss Kona and Chin Ho. Probably safe until Jack knocked off for the day or Dan Ryan and his crew got restless, he decided, and so Danny just made his way slowly up the main street, checking things out and nodding at people who greeted him.
Mrs. Fielding always had a cool drink of water for him when he ambled past her boarding-house, and he was happy enough to stop in for a chat when she called him from her porch.
"Afternoon, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat and accepting a chipped enamel mug full of water.
She smiled and ushered him into the shade. "It's a hot one, isn't it, Sheriff?"
Danny wiped his brow with his forearm and resettled his hat. "It sure is, at that." He sipped his water and closed his eyes at the way it slipped down his throat, clearing out the dust. He coughed a little.
"Oh, and I've got a new boarder," she declared. "Just came in with the coach from Prescott this morning."
Danny's attention sharpened. "Really?"
She smiled at nothing in particular. "He seems like a nice young man. Says he's in from Ohio, prospecting, but I don't believe that for a second."
Danny grinned. "Oh no? Why not?"
She shook her head sadly. "There's something a bit off about him. He's a little funny." She shrugged delicately. "Paid me in advance for a week, though, cash."
"He can't be too funny, then, or at least not more than we've got in Stanton already." Danny set his empty cup on a floorboard and got up slowly from the bench again. "What's his name, ma'am?"
She had to think for a second. "McGarrett," she said, then more confidently, "Steven McGarrett, that's it."
"Well," said Danny. He looked off down the dusty main street of Stanton, trailing off into desert that rolled to the horizon, hard sand and scrub with a pale, bright sky above. "I guess we'll see about this Mr. McGarrett, won't we?"
"I suppose we will," said Mrs. Fielding placidly.
...You know you want to see where this goes. And you can imagine how long it would take me to get to showing you. I'll just let you contemplate that for a while, shall I?
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/42111.html. (
comments)