~Trouble~
Author: Tipper
Disclaimer: not mine.
Notes: Answer to Jen's challenge – a story inspired by a song (but not a songfic). I used "Trouble" by Pink. Believe it or not, it was the line "and my fingers are bejeweled" that did it--kept thinking about that jade ring and that ruby ring Ezra wears occasionally.
Description: Just a short character story. This should take place several days following the events in One Day Out West. In other words, the boys are still getting to know each other and the town is still getting to know them....
__________________________________
Conklin: "We don't want your kind
in this town. You bring nothing but trouble!"
Vin: "Can't be worse than what you
already got."
(from One Day
Out West)
____________________________________
Ezra looked down at his right
hand, at the ruby ring, and blew on it, shifting to polish it against his
jacket. A moment later, the same hand
ran down the front of the front of his richly embroidered maroon waistcoat,
patting the wad of bills in the pocket.
Licking his lips, the hand then drifted further down to his right hip,
brushing back the tails of the handsome red coat to reveal the black Remington
strapped to his right thigh.
He rested his hand on the gun, and
smiled, his gold tooth flashing in the sunlight.
The other man's eyes narrowed,
having watched the whole performance with something akin to amusement.
"Well, Mr. Morrison,"
Ezra drawled, "Your move."
Ezra and Shepherd Morrison,
another fairly recent resident of
Everyone in town knew by now that
Ezra was fast with his fists, his show in the saloon before he'd ridden out to
the
A few of the townsfolk stayed
inside, either concerned about stray bullets or simply refusing to watch
another killing. The rest—which was most
of the town—crowded the boardwalks, leaning against posts and railings. Some stood on barrels and soapboxes to see
over heads, others crouched down under hitching posts. The whispers grew amongst the swelling crowd,
as folks considered possible outcomes…and a good number started making
bets. The general expression on people's
face, though, was curiosity.
Fact was…folks just weren't sure
whose side to be on.
Mary wrung her hands, her lips
tightly pressed together. She looked
around, trying to find Chris amongst the gathering.
Her eyes lit on Vin Tanner first,
leaning against a post about ten feet from Ezra's back. His face was expressionless. He also didn't look like he was going to
interfere, as both arms were crossed over his chest. He hadn't even unhooked his Mare's Leg.
She ground her teeth together and
looked past him to the front of the jail.
Buck stood there, one hand gripped
firmly around JD's arm. The kid was
arguing with his mentor, but Buck was clearly not listening as JD tried to pry
the grip loose.
Well, Mary thought, at least I'm
not the only one….
She looked farther, to the church.
Josiah was standing on his roof. He had a hammer in one hand, held over his
head to block the bright sun, the other was holding onto the steeple, keeping
him steady. He was watching…but like Vin
and Buck, didn't appear inclined to do anything.
Her eyebrows rose as she saw
Nathan also up there, sliding down the roof towards the ladder. He looked to be in a hurry. But was he moving to stop the fight…or just
to deal with the aftermath?
"Well?" Ezra said,
cocking his head to the side, drawing Mary's attention back to the scene on the
street.
"You think yer slick,
doncha," Morrison swore.
"Compared to you? Yes."
"Well, it ain't gonna save
ya. I've killed yer type a dozen times
over. Yer gonna die, and I'm gonna drink
my health o'er your body."
"Really. My, my," Ezra smiled again, "how
poetic."
"You betcha. I gots a poet's soul, my mamma says."
This earned a chuckle from the
gambler, and Morrison frowned. "Did
you know, Mr. Morrison," Ezra's smile widened, "that most great poets
die young?"
Morrison's face clouded further,
and his hand gripped his gun more tightly.
Ezra kept his loose.
Suddenly, Morrison straightened
up, and his hand went away from his gun.
He was looking over Ezra's shoulder, showing a hint of fear for the
first time.
The gambler's expression showed
puzzlement for a moment…until he heard the jangle of spurs walking up behind
him. Over in front of the Clarion, Mary
sighed in relief.
Ezra glanced to the side, then back
at Morrison as soon as the black outfit came into view out of the corner of his
eye.
"Ezra," Chris drawled.
"Mr. Larabee."
"You need anything?"
"Not at the moment."
Chris gave him a tiny nod,
"Okay then. See you later."
Ezra nodded, his eyes still on
Morrison. "Mr. Larabee…" Chris
stopped, and Ezra's eyes flicked to him, "Remind me to buy you a drink
later."
The tiniest smile lit on Chris's
lips.
Mary stiffened, watching in shock
as Chris stepped between the two men, gave Morrison a look, then kept moving. He strode up onto the boardwalk in front of
the saloon, barely noticing as the people there practically climbed over each
other to get out of his way, and pushed his way through the batwing doors. In moments, he was gone, almost as if he'd
never been there, hidden once more in the shadows.
Morrison stared after him a
moment, then looked back at Ezra. The
gambler's eyebrows lifted.
"I'm getting bored, Mr.
Morrison."
"Fine," Morrison
snapped. "Let's see jest how good
ya are!"
Fast as a rattler, the stranger
grabbed for his gun with his right, his left flying up to push back the hammer.
In far less time, Ezra engaged the
derringer and fired.
Morrison gasped, his right hand
dropping the gun, grabbing at his bleeding arm.
He turned surprised eyes to the gambler, who was smiling back.
"You cheated!" Morrison
screamed. "That ain't fair! You
cheated!"
"Fair?" Ezra repeated, "You wanted this to be
fair?"
"Hell yes! You cheated!"
"Mr. Morrison, you already
called me a cheat once," Ezra pushed the derringer back up his sleeve,
walking up to the other man who was now bent half sideways to the right, still
gripping his arm where it was bleeding through his fingers. "And now look
at you." He reached down and picked
up the man's dropped gun with his left hand, "If I were you, I wouldn't do
it again."
"You slimy, low-down, no good
drifter, why I oughta—"
Ezra socked him with a sharp
right-handed punch, sending Morrison flying backwards into the dust. Morrison gasped as he landed hard on his
back, the pain in his arm fading as the bones in his skull rang with the blow,
his eyes blinking to clear the fuzz from his vision. The gambler walked forward, stepping into
Morrison's line of sight and blocking out the clear blue sky that the stranger
had been focusing on. There was nothing
but contempt on the gambler's face now.
"I do not cheat at cards, Mr.
Morrison. You are a terrible player and
I happen to be extremely good. I am also
very good with a gun. However, I don't
like to gamble with my life unless I have no choice. You called me out because you were pretty
sure you were faster than me. Maybe you
are, but, frankly, I saw no reason to find out." His eyes narrowed, "You simply aren't
worth my time."
Morrison winced, hissing in pain
as he met Ezra's eyes. "Yer just
yella," he spat.
Ezra smiled coldly at that,
squatting down next to him, and Morrison followed him with his eyes. The
gambler let the red coat open enough for Morrison to see the Colt under his
left arm, which, along with the Remington and the derringer, told the stranger
more than he needed about the man staring him down. Ezra's frosty smile grew.
"Mr. Morrison," he said
sweetly, "if I may make a suggestion: If you don't want more trouble, you
will leave now."
"Best listen to him,
Mister," Vin said, materializing at Ezra's back, his Mare's Leg resting
across his arms.
"This town's got enough
trouble," Buck agreed, sidling up to stand on Morrison's other side with
JD behind him, "don't need you adding to it." He patted his gunbelt.
"Yeah," JD added
unnecessarily. Buck chuckled at that,
and the kid shot him a dark look.
"I think," Josiah
rumbled, walking towards them from the direction of the church, his hammer
still in hand, stopping when he stood about a foot from the top of Morrison's
head, "that Mr. Morrison may need
more encouragement in that regard, brothers." Morrison had to tip his head back to see in
that direction, his Adam's apple shifting uneasily as an upside down Josiah
slapped his hammer down on his hand.
"But…no, wait" Morrison
looked confused as he met Josiah's eyes, then Buck's, JD's and Vin's, "he
cheated! He's the one that's
trouble! Not me!"
"Maybe," Chris said,
suddenly appearing at Morrison's head, "but he's our kind of
trouble." The tone of Chris's voice
froze Morrison to his bones.
Chris looked to his left, and
Morrison looked that way as well. He saw
a black man watching them, his expression one of annoyance as he glared at
Morrison.
"Nathan," Chris smiled,
"patch up Mr. Morrison here, then see he gets going."
"With pleasure," Nathan
spat. Morrison's eyes widened, shifting
to look at the seven men now staring down at him.
Morrison may have been slow, but
he wasn't stupid.
"That's okay, Mr. uh…Nathan,
I'm fine. I'm jest gonna go…."
Morrison squirmed, pushing himself to his feet and trying to look as small and
as harmless as possible. Ezra rose with
him, but Morrison wasn't looking directly at him anymore as Josiah slapped the
hammer again. "I'm going! I'm
goin'!" Morrison squealed, and he proceeded to run as fast as possible
away from the seven men, aiming for the livery stable. Laughter floated on the breeze behind him.
"Mr. Larabee," Ezra
glanced askance at the gunslinger, a pleased smirk on his face, "I believe
I promised you a drink?"
Chris grinned, clapping Ezra on
the shoulder. "I think you all of us a drink, Mr. Standish." Renewed
laughter from the others came with that, and seven men headed towards the
saloon, all expecting to get a free drink on Mr. Morrison's lost poker
funds.
Mary watched them go, still
frowning at the occurrence. Her mind,
though, was already piecing together tomorrow's headline: Headline - Trouble Comes to Town – Second line,
smaller print -- and is summarily ejected
by the Seven….No…words are too big…and
is dealt a losing hand…better, highlights Ezra's role…. and she turned and
walked dreamily back into her office, pulling the pencil from behind her ear.
And in the background, the rest of
the town drifted back to what they had been doing before, deciding they were
very glad these men were…for now…on their side.
_________________________________________
The End – hope you liked it! Drop me a line
if you did!
Inspired by:
Trouble – by Pink
No attorneys -- to plead my case
No opiates -- to send me into outer space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help me now
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble y'all
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
You think you're right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can't take me
For a ride
I'm not a fool now -- So you better run and hide
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
If you see me coming
Down the street then
You know it's time to go
(and you know it's time to go
cause here comes trouble)
No attorneys -- to plead my case
No opiates -- to send me into outer space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help me now
You think your right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can't take me
For a ride
Cause I'm not a fool now -- So you better run and hide
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
If you see me coming
Down the street then
You know it's time to go
(and you know it's time to go
cause here comes trouble)
Trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
I got trouble in my town
I got trouble in my town