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Desperado, Blushing
ikissdhimbck wrote in milliways_bar
The door opens to the blinding light of a hot, Texas morning, and a single traveler comes waltzing through. There's something instantly different about this new patron. Unlike most first-time visitors, she doesn't look confused or bewildered, lost or afraid. She walks up to Bar with purpose and confidence, boots clicking against hardwood, spurs whispering softly.

She even looks vaguely familiar, to those with a careful eye.

She stops at the bar, brown fingers gently stroking polished wood, and a quiet, one-sided conversation ensues. But she's not the one speaking; it's the quickly growing pile of napkins that are doing all the talking.

There's a hush in the room -- a quiet sound -- you can barely hear it. Like regret, and innocence, and the breath of a thousand sun-kissed springs, warm summers, harvest fruits. It's courtesy and thankfulness. It's goodbye.

Eventually, a small glass of whiskey appears, and the cowgirl smiles small and crooked. She slides onto a stool, and slowly begins to drink (her free hand tenderly patting the now-quiet Bar).



Goodbye, Katherine Barlow.

Welcome to Milliways, Kissin' Kate.


[tiny!tags: Kissin' Kate Barlow, The Russian Astronaut, Jasper Hale, Jane Austen, Ellen Park, Ben Wade, Charles Monroe]

ooc: With almost immediate slowtimes in effect, as I will need to find dinner soon. But I couldn't wait! *fidgets* XD? Back! Open foreverrrrr.

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Ben has two careful eyes.

He approaches the counter and takes the next stool.

He orders a glass of milk before he gives her a nod and a sideways glance.

She keeps her eyes forward, but she knows just who it is without having to look, and acknowledges his presence next to her.

Her lips quirk into a smirk, and she sips at her whiskey before saying anything.

"Got somethin' for you, Ben."

"For me?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"You shouldn't've."

"Not what you said before," she says evenly, leaning back so she can reach a hand inside her vest. It comes out with a small stack of old bills, which she plunks down on the bar and taps, leaving her fingers there a moment.

"Here. Call us even."

Ben's expression flattens.

"Christ in a teacup, Kate."

He shakes his head.

"I don't want that -- you know that ain't what I meant."

She turns her head, eyes on his, expression still neutral.



Okay, she's a little amused.

"No, but you said what you said, and here I am repayin' you. Thanks, Ben. Turns out those lessons came in real handy."

She taps the money again and scoots it closer to him, before returning her attention to her whiskey.

He slides the stack of bills close to her elbow with a slight shake of his head.

"Should I be congratulatin' you?"

Her eyes slide down to the money, recently departed from his brown fingers.

She glances to his face.

"Funny way of doin' it, if you were."

"No, I don't reckon you do much of that anymore," she snorts, shaking her head.

She sips quietly at her drink, eyes trained on the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar.

"I do."

A beat.

"When there's cause for it."

He studies her profile, wondering just what the hell's happened outside that door.

"There just ain't much cause for it when you're 'round me, am I right?"

She turns her attention back on him, and smirks humorlessly.

"Lighten up, Ben. And take the god damn money."

"I don't want the goddamn money," he says, voice light but eyes dark and serious.

"I'm glad to see you back in one piece."

The smirk never slips from her face, despite the way her eyes twist and burn like an angry flame.

"Fine."

She picks up the bills and stuffs them back inside her vest.

"Your loss."

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