Re: This Town is Big Enough...

[Sheriff Jones]

The bullet caught Ivan's shoulder, pushing him back with the force of the impact, although he managed to remain on his horse. Alfred quickly grasped his other pistol (thankful to at least still be in possession of one) and aimed it at Braginski. The large Russian barely responded the bullet hole in his shoulder, even as a large red stain bloomed from the rip in his tan coat. He continued to smile down at them all, as if they were simply having a conversation about the weather instead of fighting for their lives. "Careful comrade," replied a soft, accented voice, "Your wound seems to have re-opened. Without the necessary care, you could be dead in a matter of minutes." Alfred's head snapped back to where Arthur stood, his eyes immediately drawn to the blood seeping through his white dress shirt. Ivan continued, still completely unconcerned with the blood dripping down his arm. "But of course, I could kill have you killed now if you prefer." One of the remaining men aimed a rifle at Arthur while the other turned his gun towards Alfred. "Even if you shoot to kill me Kirkland, my men won't miss."

Alfred gripped his pistol tighter, daring only to glance at Arthur to express his own panic. Francis was unarmed, Matthew unconscious, and Arthur was quickly losing blood - their chances of winning in a frontal fight were zero to none, and all of them knew it. The young sheriff searched for another option, but nothing came to mind. The situation was virtually hopeless. Ivan tilted his head slightly and gave Alfred a mockingly friendly smile. "Don't look so sad Fredka, if you promise to co-operate, I could spare you and your merry band of friends." He looked up at the tall Russian, still clutching his gun tightly with a shaky hand. Ivan laughed and raised a hand, crossing his heart with his pointer finger. Blood smeared across the material protecting his heart, but he didn't seem to notice. "I promise, no harm will come to you or them if you just do this one tiny little thing for me. I will promise a safe journey the rest of the way back home."

Alfred stayed silent for another, tense moment before lowering his gun slightly. "What do you want?" He asked quietly. The tall Russian smiled gleefully and clapped his hands together in a childish fashion. "Drop your weapon and come here," He said simply, motioning for the young American to step forward. He hesitated for a moment and turned back to Arthur. Red liquid was seeping down Arthur's once pristine white bandages, and he didn't know how long it would be before the Englishman wouldn't be able to support his own weight. He didn't want to have to risk facing Braginski on his own, but if there was a chance to save everybody, he had no choice but to take it. Alfred set down his pistol carefully and walked up the milky white horse Ivan sat upon. "I'm here, what do you want?" The purple-eyed man simply smiled and leaned down so that his face was level with Alfred's. "Just one kiss Fredka. Then, I will leave."

The Russian knew precisely what he was doing - Alfred was convinced of that. He caught Ivan's eyes flicker over to where Arthur stood a knowing grin appearing on his face. Alfred couldn't bring himself to look back at the Brit to gauge his reaction, because his decision had already been made. The young sheriff leaned forward and met Ivan's lips halfway, eyelids squeezed shut to hide his shame. The kiss was bruising, reopening the bite wound on his bottom lip. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth along with a slimy tongue which eagerly lapped up his essence. Alfred shivered in disgust, but did not pull back. After what seemed like hours, Ivan shoved him away. He fell back against the dirt by the trio of horses, lips bruised and bleeding and face red with shame. The gunman laughed while Ivan gave a satisfied smirk. "A deal's a deal. I shall take my leave." He said, pulling on his horses reigns to depart. "If you shoot at me though," his eyes flashed over to Arthur, "I will not hesitate to come and kill you all."

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur's eyes harden on the Russian, both from the pain in his side and the fact that one of him men was aiming at Alfred. Arthur didn't particularity care what happened too much, he simply wanted to mess with Ivan and his plans. Sure it would get him shot, but Arthur was too angry to care. "Who says I want to kill you, maybe I want you to be bedridden for a good while." Arthur snarled feeling like he was throwing ever bit of hate he for the Russian.

His green eyes watched everything carefully, his mind trying to keep the pain at bay as well as assess everyone around him. Francis seemed to be tending to Matthew as best he could. He noticed Alfred was looking everything over as well. However Ivan truly had the upper hand in this situation which wasn't exactly helping Arthur's level of anger. Still anything rash would get them both of them killed. Even Arthur's anger know that was bad news for them.

He groaned, he was growing dizzy from the blood loss, but he forced himself to stand and glare at Ivan like his life depended on it. To Ivan he was sure he didn't seem that threatening but Arthur might seem somewhat intimating to his men. There he was a shot man, bleeding from an open wound and glaring at someone who scared everyone they ever meet. Surely there was a sense of something that would make them hesitate.

He watched Alfred walk over to the Russian the rifle that was trained on him followed as well. He growled, praying Ivan didn't want Alfred to come with him. Arthur knew for sure he would shot the man then, he wouldn't think about it he would just do it. He couldn't hear much, his brain starting to be clouded by the pain and loss of blood. Arthur however noticed the Russian lean down and kiss the American.

Cocking his gun, Arthur fired at the ground, causing one of the men to jump suddenly. He cocked his gun when Alfred was shoved to the ground. Honestly he wanted to shot the men then but his words were turn. He fired at the ground again. "Funny cause I'm content with shooting your shoulder and the ground." Arthur said, somewhere in the back of his screaming at himself. Honestly he was off his rocker, way, way, off it.

Watching the three men ride away, he dropped his will power to stand. Groaned in dropped the gun and held his side, dropping to the ground with a few colorful curses.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred scrambled off the ground the second he heard Arthur fall. He limped over to his bleeding form and crouched down beside him, pushing off his hands to get a better look at his wound. "Dammit..." Some, if not all of his stitches had been ripped from his side, releasing a steady stream of crimson down the side of the Englishman's body. Alfred glanced up at his brother, but his unconscious form was still being tended to by a surprisingly attentive Francis. The task of stopping Arthur's bleeding fell on his shoulders. Quickly as he could, he hobbled over to the broken carriage and shifted through the debris until he found Matthew's leather bag. As he made his way back over to Arthur's side, he pulled out a fresh roll of gauze and managed to locate a small bottle of whiskey. "We need to close your wound again. Can you sew?" He asked, nervously holding up a surgical needle and thread.

Thankfully, a hand on the shoulder stopped him before he got any farther. Francis had appeared and gently took the needle out of his hand. "I will handle this, Monsieur Jones. Please attend to your brother instead." Alfred nodded and stood up. He gave Arthur one last, apologetic glance before slowly limping to his brother's side. Francis had wadded up his coat and stuck it under Matthew's head as a makeshift pillow and had wiped away the trail of blood that accumulated on his forehead. As far as Alfred could tell, Matthew had simply been knocked unconscious when he was thrown from the carriage. He lightly took his brother's hand and squeezed it comfortingly, trying to ignore what was happening with Arthur and Francis a few feet away.

After deciding there was little more he could do for his brother, he stood up and went to calm the horse still tied to the broken carriage. It took a long time to calm the horse enough for him to actually untie it, but when he managed to do it, he brought the large animal to his brother's side. With only one horse left, they would simply have to make due. Mattie and Arthur could ride while him and Francis walked beside them. There was no way they would make it back to his home this way - they would have to stop at the next town in order to rent a couple more horses. There was still an element of danger by having to stop again, but he was inclined to believe Braginski's promise. For some reason, he doubted they would be meeting again for a little while. Alfred picked his brother up and carefully hoisted him up onto the horse. He sighed a bit before leading the animal back over to Arthur and Francis. "There's a small town not far from here. It would take a few hours to get there, but it's our only option right now. Are you well enough to travel?"

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur bit his tongue to stop a trail of curse that he was about to release at Alfred. He groaned instead, cursing in his head. He took a calming breath, glancing at Alfred as he left to search the rubble of the carriage. He returned with Matthews bag and Arthur groaned, closing his eyes, bracing himself for pain before Alfred started talking to him. "I know needle work." Arthur said with a nod.

He opened his eyes and found Francis telling Alfred something and he left. "No, I don't not want crappy frog needle work in my side." Arthur snapped at the Frenchman who frowned. "No offense, but I can sew better than you."

"I know medical supplies better than you, eyebrows." Francis said.

Arthur growled. "You still aren't sew me closed, I'll do that. Surely Matthew has a cloth or gag or something." Arthur said taking the needle and surgical thread, string it and preparing.

Francis dug about in Matthew's bag, before laughing and holding up a piece of cloth. "Would you look at that! He does." Francis said shoving it into Arthur's mouth and grinning with triumph. Arthur glared at him, before motioning for him to pour the whiskey on the wound.

Francis did so, and Arthur felt himself tense up. His jaw tightened and he tasted the clock. Arthur braced himself as he redid the stitches. He pushed the pain back as deep as he could as he worked. He tied of the wound and grabbed for the bottle. He honestly need to get drunk enough ease the pain.

"I think he will be if he gets drunk enough." Francis said with grin, as he wrapped Arthur up.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred just sighed at the Frenchman's comment and moved to pull Arthur into his arms. "Well, take whatever Mattie has in that bag. It's the only liquor we have until we reach the next town," he said, settling the Englishman on the horse behind his still unconscious brother. He grabbed Matthew's doctor's bag and rifled through it, locating another two bottles of whiskey, both of which he handed to the Brit. "Have at it Arthur. Francis," He motioned over to the other man as he lightly pulled the horse forward, "We're stuck walking." And walk they did. Due to the fact that they had two injured people (one of whom was unconscious and the other was steadily consuming more and more alcohol), they had to move slowly in order to keep them from slipping off the horse. The hot sun beat down on them for hours, leaving Alfred sweaty, hot, and totally uncomfortable. As the journey progressed, he stripped out of his jacket and unbuttoned the top of his shirt (doing his best to still remain decent), but the heat was oppressing. Occasionally Francis would make some comment about stripping down completely, which in turn had Alfred sending poisonous glares his way every few minutes. "I don't know how my brother stands you," He mumbled under his breath.

It was a relief when the sun started to sink behind the mountains, cooling off the parched land considerable. Alfred could see the lights of a small town up ahead and the promise of food and a warm bed compelled him to keep moving. Before long, the exhausted group had entered the town and were working to find an inn to spend the night at. Thankfully, they were able to locate a relatively cheap on and had obtained two rooms. All that was left to discuss were rooming assignments. "Matthieu and I should obviously share a room, since I am the only one qualified to look after him." Alfred frowned, not liking the idea of leaving the perverted Frenchman have free reign over his unconscious brother for an entire night, but the alternative would be a thousand times worse. He groaned, but handed off his twin with a warning glare. Once he and Matthew disappeared into their room for the night, Alfred moved to pick up Arthur. "Guess it's just us again," He said lightly, following the pretty (and familiar looking) brunette down the hall where their bedroom was located. The woman gave them a pleasant smile and wished them a good night before letting the door close behind her. Alfred sighed and managed to get his partner on the bed, minding his wounded side. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?"

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur and Francis both knew a drunk Kirkland was not always a fun on. His brother was the only one who could be wasted and still somewhat stand up straight and function. Scott was a towering thing of mumbled jokes and loud laughs, while Erin and Arthur were in the corner. Erin was the quiet one and Arthur laid out all of his problems. Francis only knew from when they first meet and Arthur went from witty mean comments about to him bawling about something after a third glass of whiskey. Arthur finished what was left in the first bottle quickly, and the pain drummed away. But it was just above the level where he dropped off.

However when Alfred gave him the other two small bottles he saved them for latter in the ride. He finished the second bottle and got in an argument with Francis when he took his clothes off. He swayed and someone braced him, as he slurred his words and was just the somewhat unpleasant pain he was when he was drunk. The third bottle was being finished when they found an inn and Arthur was gone after that, well way gone, he wasn't going to remember anything after the second bottle was finished.

He was muttering something when someone took him off the horse, which he named Uni and clung a bit to out of sadness it lost its horn. "What Uni's not coming with us?" He asked as the horse slide out of his hold. He hugged whoever was holding him tightly, not letting go till he was placed on a bed. Then all hell broke loss from his mouth. Francis had kept him busy with arguing and quieting him and Arthur hadn't gone his usual depressed, crying route that he usually did. "I'm depressed," he sobbed rolling to his right and crying onto the bed. "My father's business failed, I'm a failure, and the unicorn outside lost her horn."

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred sighed when Arthur began rolling around the bed, sobbing loudly. Oh dear, no wonder Francis had ran when he had the chance - the Brit wasn't just a bad drunk, he was an overly emotional one. Quickly Alfred reached forward to collect his partner, pulling him into a warm and secure hug. He wasn't quite sure how to calm the drunk man, but keeping him from re-opening the wound was probably a good thing. "Shh... it's okay. You're not a failure and I'm sure that..." Wait, unicorn? Where the hell was there a unicorn? Oh, the horse they had been riding. Huh, he had never pictured Arthur as the type to be into the whole fairytale thing. That would be an interesting conversation to bring up when he wasn't roaring drunk and sobbing about some imaginary creature. "I'll help the unicorn find her horn later. But for now, why don't we just go to sleep?" He pulled back and gave Arthur a kind (albiet strained) smile and gently pulled back to remover Arthur's boots and socks. Once that was one, he leaned up and unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it away so he could get comfortable.

"There you go Arthur," He said, trying to tuck the drunk man under the covers without hurting him. Once that was taken care of, he sighed and began stripping out of his clothing as well. He was still slightly red and sunburned from spending the entire day out in the hot sun. He hissed a bit when the rough cloth shifted to take off his shirt. "Damn that stings," He muttered, rubbing the back of his shoulders to ease the burning. He limped over to the bed and happily collapsed onto it. What a day. All he wanted was to sleep for the next year and forget everything. Too bad he still had to wait to be sure his partner didn't die from alcohol poisoning or anything. With a groan, he turned over on his side and pressed a hand against Arthur's cheek. "Go to sleep Arthur. Everything will be better in the morning, I promise." Alfred leaned forward and planted gentle kiss against his lips. "Don't be sad anymore. I'm here." He smiled gently and ran a hand lightly down Arthur's hair to calm him. Hopefully he would fall asleep soon. The sooner he fell asleep the sooner he would feel better. Well, save for the massive hangover that was sure to await him in the morning. But, Alfred couldn't do much to help with that.

[Crocky Kirkland]

Someone stopped his rolling around and hugged him. Spoke soft words but his drunken depression didn't quite make them all out. He told himself he had to focus because it would honestly be something important about Uni or fairies or something. It seemed everyone was just having a bad day. He nodded against the person holding him, because they would help Uni and probably anyone else who needed him. However the suggestion of sleep sounded nice.

He giggled when his shoes and socks came off. "Don't hide them too much," he told the fairies pointing off to some of their giggling friends beside him. "It's mean 'cause I would have to make Alfie look for them."

He slide out of his shirt easily, he didn't like the feeling of the shirt. He was eased into bed, "what I have to sleep with pants?" He frowned out as he was tucked in. He settled into bed getting ready to fall asleep when the bed dipped and startled him slightly. A large thing came to rest on his head and he froze before turning and seeing blue. He felt calm instantly. "Bye bye, bad feelings." Arthur whispered drifting of slowly before saying on last thing, "make sure the fairies don't hide my shoes." He was gone in a deep sleep soon after that.

[Sheriff Jones]

He knew it was bad, but honestly, how could anyone not be amused by this. Arthur was so proper and kind of cranky at times, to see him reduced to talking about (and sometimes with) imaginary creatures was far too funny for even the exhausted Alfred to take. He bit back a snicker at his odd request, only managing a muffled, "I'll try my best," in response. Thankfully, Arthur didn't seem to care too much and had fallen into a well deserved slumber. Once he was sure it was safe, the young sheriff pressed his face against his pillow and laughed quietly. I have got to take him out drinking when the circumstances are better. He silently promised to himself before shifting back into a more comfortable position. Alfred leaned forward (still a bit giddy with laughter) and pressed a soft kiss against the Brit's forehead. "Night Artie. Hope your hangover isn't too bad tomorrow morning," He said, before settling into sleep. He fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

"Come here love..." A body pressed against his back and he leaned against it to get a better feel. Hands ran up and down his sides, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. He was panting heavily, desperately gripping the wooden panel before him for support. "Artie..." He groaned as those wandering hands traveled lower down his body. He could feel the older man grin against his neck. "Oh god Arthur!" He gasped, hips grinding up against the hand that grasped him. A low chuckle sounded by his ear, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Too many feelings were crashing through his body to make sense of - it felt as if he were about to burst. "Don't stop," He gasped, sweat trailing down from his temples. "God please don't stop!" A hand pressed underneath his chin, forcing him to look behind him. He caught sight of those beautiful green eyes, darkened with lust. Alfred leaned forward eager to meet his lips when...

Alfred awoke in a panic. He sat up, rim-rod straight and glanced over at his partner with wide eyes. Why had he be dreaming about that?! Sure they had kissed a few times, but that? There was no way they were anywhere near that stage of their relationship! It was improper and wrong and... "Gah!" Alfred slapped a hand over his mouth and grabbed his pillow. No, no, no! Why did his body have to react to his dreams in that way? He inwardly groaned and pressed the pillow against his groin, hoping and praying that his little problem would go down before Arthur decided to wake up. The last thing he needed right now was to be sporting an erection when his drunk and wounded partner needed his assistance! Please go away. Please go away. Please go away! He thought to himself, glancing down at Arthur's form every few seconds to assure himself that he was still asleep. Dammit!

[Crocky Kirkland]

"What's got you so down?" Scott said with a grin as he took a puff of his pipe. His green eyes and thick brows fixed on Arthur. The one of off the brothers who hasn't said a word at the table or the way to the pub. "It can't be the English rain," his Scottish accent had gotten thick, "you always sort of liked it."

Arthur was silent for a bit twisting his cup feeling all of his brothers' eyes on him. Erin was doing well in Wales, as was Patrick in Ireland and Scott in Scotland. They all knew Arthur was getting to the age where their father would send them off to go work somewhere. "Father's sending me to America."

"America!" Patrick snapped, leaning forward after he almost spit out his drink. "They just out of bloody war and Father's sending you there!" Patrick's accent was thick as well. "I thought you were getting England."

Arthur shook his head. No apparently England was more suited for Pete according to their father. And he was just sending him to American, it was the West. The Wild West where there was nothing. "Peter's getting England."

"Father's not going to last that long judging by the way he smokes and drinks." Scott said with a hard look on his face. He reached over and took Arthur's drink. "It won't be pretty if you're already down." Arthur could only ask one question in his head..

"Why me?" He said tugging at the covers subconsciously. His head was pounding and he didn't want the day to start, at least not like it had, and not with that dream. He groaned his headache was too much to be just a few drinks. "Oh kill me now," He groaned pulling the sheets higher over his head and willing himself to fall asleep again. Lie still and drift away again.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred took a series of slow, deep breaths in order to calm himself down. Thankfully, his rested mind found other things to focus on besides the fantasy that had been playing in his dreams not a few moments earlier. Within a few short minutes, he felt in control enough to get out of bed and find one of the innkeepers to brew up some coffee. Arthur was sure to have one hell of a headache when he awoke, and he needed to be ready with a remedy when that happened. Alfred returned to their room with two cups of steaming coffee, which he carefully placed on the bedside table before settling back into bed. He didn't have to wait long for the Brit to stir. Soon after he had returned to bed, Arthur began mumbling softly and yanked the covers up over his face to hide from the bright sun. Alfred sighed and leaned over to carefully peel away the covers. "Hey there sleepyhead. I brought you up some coffee."

The young sheriff wrapped his arms up around Arthur and managed to pull him up into a sitting position. When he was settled, Alfred retrieved one of the steaming cups and offered it out to the Brit with a careful smile. "Here. It should help with the headache." He was half tempted to mention that the fairies hadn't stolen his shoes or that the hornless unicorn had been missing him all night, but he figured the teasing should wait until Arthur felt well enough to defend himself. Still, Alfred had to fight back a snicker as memories of the previous night returned to him. "How is your side doing?" He asked, leaning over to carefully pick at the wrappings around his stomach. No bleeding, so the stitches had held up. Alfred nodded to himself before glancing back down at Arthur, a careful smile on his face. "Do you want me to get you something else?" Perhaps a bucket. He really hoped he wouldn't have to throw up or anything. "But drink the rest of that coffee. That and a little more sleep, and you'll be feeling as good as new."

[Crocky Kirkland]

The covers started to be pulled away and Arthur groaned. He heard Alfred's voice and partially let go out of shock. He stared up and the man, his green eyes wide. Bloody hell! He thought in his head, which wasn't making his headache better, neither was the lights. No he wanted the covers back so he could crawl under them and die, and ease away his existence.

Alfred sat him up, and Arthur debated going limp on him so he would be left alone. He took the cup Alfred handed him. Tea had always helped him ease over a hang over, he remembered his mother handing them each one when they would wake up for breakfast in the morning. Usually after Erin and Scott dragged Arthur out from under the covers. Taking a sip however he did not taste tea. He swallowed the drink with some force, he honestly was not use to the taste and bitterness of coffee. He place the cup on the bedside table, trying to stop himself from childish swallowing repeatedly to get rid of the taste.

"I'm fine," Arthur said, waving his hand to try and wave way Alfred's words and reach to for the blanket. "They didn't have tea?" He asked, because he can force down the coffee, but it wouldn't be pretty. He reached the covers and yanked them over his head as best he could. "Do I even want to know what happened last night?"

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred stared at his partner in confusion at his odd statement. Tea? Who in the world would willingly choose tea over the magical healing powers of coffee? Then again, he was English, and they did have a twisted sense of what was good for them. Nonetheless, the young sheriff shook his head. "Uh no, I don't think so. Just drink the coffee. It will be better for you in the long run." He chuckled a bit as Arthur pulled the covers back of his head. Well, at least he knew himself well enough to realize how crazy he had acted when drunk. Alfred reached forward and took the second cup of coffee for himself. He sipped it lightly and sighed at it's beautiful taste. It was a rare nicety for him to have a cup of good coffee out in the middle of the west, so he intended to sit and enjoy its perfect flavor for the rest of the morning. Well that, and he had to look after the hungover blond sitting next to him.

At Arthur's words, he couldn't help but laugh (although to his credit, he tried to muffle the sound by taking another long sip from his mug). "Probably not." He said, trying to hide the devious smirk on his face. "But if it makes you feel better, I kept the fairies from hiding your shoes. Your unicorn pal, well, I'm sad to say I couldn't help find his lost horn. I'll try again later if you'd like." Alfred couldn't contain his laughter this time. He doubled over himself and quickly slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Once he felt calm enough to speak, he spoke again. "Sorry Arthur," He said, still trying to calm his giggles. Honestly he didn't want to embarrass the British man too much, but the fact that he still believed in fairy tales (at least in his drunken state) was far too hilarious not to tease him about. "But I couldn't help it." Alfred continued to laugh quietly to himself, every once in a while pausing to take a sip of his coffee. Poor Arthur - he wasn't ever going to get away from this little slip up. No, no, he was far too fun to tease.

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur hated America, he really did. They didn't have tea, all they had was been juice, that was bitter and nasty. Honestly they could at least keep some tea around, it was nice to have a cup of tea in the morning it was natural almost. He groaned knowing he was going to have to drink it, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do and he was just going to have to deal with it.

He cringed at Afred's laugh. Great I went and made a bloody fool of myself. He groaned as Alfred told him, in a tease sort of man what he did. He pulled at the cover's more, feeling them break loose from the bed and cover him more. He wanted to die, seriously he did. "Bollocks! I want to die." He said groaning and shaking under the covers. "I want to die." He repeated over and over. He whispered softer so Alfred won't hear him continue.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred cringed, immediately stopping his laughter at the sound of Arthur's curse. Whoops, he hadn't meant to take it that far. It had only meant to be a little joke between friends. But perhaps he had taken it too far considering that the other man was still suffering from a great headache and his laughter was probably making him feel worse then better. "Hey, I'm sorry," He said more softly this time, carefully placing his coffee back on the nightstand. "I didn't mean to make you upset. Honestly, I think it's cute that you like fairies and stuff." Wait, had that been the right direction to go? He had no idea, but it was too late to take it back now. He leaned forward and took the mess of blankets into his arms, holding him lightly. "I really am sorry Arthur," he murmured, planting a soft kiss against the spot where his forehead should be.

He pulled away then and slipped out of bed. "I'll be right back," He promised before leaving the room again. It took a few minutes to find the innkeeper again and another five minutes for them to locate a box of black tea, but the end result was him walking back upstairs with yet another steaming mug. When he reached the room, he pulled the covers aside and offered it up to Arthur as a sign of peace. "Here, I got you some tea. I don't know how good it is, since it's kind of old, but you didn't seem too happy with the coffee so..." He trailed off, flushing stupidly. Still, he handed off the mug to Arthur and moved around to take a seat on the bed again. Grabbing his own cup, he sipped the rest of his coffee silently.

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur had had far worse drunk episodes, but he hated how he got when he was drunk. All of his brothers had different ways of dealing with their drunken selves. Arthur was the only one who wish he could die on the spot. He wasn't a horrible drunk, he just didn't like it. He had been teased before as well, usually by his brothers or friends so he wasn't that offended by Alfred, it's just how he generally reacted to a hungover morning. But then the young sheriff hugged him, which made him stiffen. Never in his life had anyone really taken what he said seriously. Arthur was speechless, but he was somewhat happy.

When the sound of footsteps going away, Arthur peeked out from under the blankets when the door closed. He blushed to himself at the feeling of Alfred holding him while he hide under the blankets. He liked the feeling. The door opened back up and he threw the blankets back over his form and waited. Eventually it was pulled away. He groaned slightly before turning to find Alfred with a cup of something. He grabbed it gently, happily smelling it and feeling his headache being eased away. He grinned before taking a sip of it. It wasn't the best he ever had, it was clearly made by someone who didn't make tea very much, or maybe it was the age.

"Thank you Alfred," He grinned up before taking another sip. It was way better than the coffee. "Sorry if I was a burden the last night."

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred smiled as Arthur sipped his tea, clearly much happier than he had been a few minutes previously. Since the second cup of coffee was free, the young sheriff leaned over and plucked it off the table to drink that as well. It was funny how normal everything felt - the two of them sitting in bed together drinking their preferred morning beverage. The moment felt natural, right, although they had never had a calm morning in the few days they had known each other. He hoped that when they did end up back home, they could start a new routine. He would buy Arthur his tea and together they would share a pleasant beginning to each day. Yes, he thought to himself, flushing a bit, That sounds perfect.

When Arthur spoke again, Alfred brushed off his apology with a careless wave of his hand. "You weren't a burden at all Arthur," He assured. A bit mad and an absolute riot to watch, but not a burden. The sheriff chose to keep those thoughts to himself though as he took another well deserved sip of coffee. "I'm just glad your feeling better." Wasn't that the truth? Ever since they had gotten together, it seemed like all they had been working nonstop. Perhaps today they could take a break and get to know each other better, without worrying about whether or not somebody was out to kill them. Alfred smiled again and leaned his head back against the wall as he happily finished off his coffee. Oh that hit the spot. How long had he been running without his usual cup of sweet coffee? Far too long. Despite all the stress he had undergone over the course of three days, he felt instantly better.

"So Arthur," He said, turning back to the older man with a content smile on his face, "I think this may be the first day since we've meet that nobody is out to kill us. I think that's cause for celebration." Alfred laughed and slipped his hand within Arthur's, squeezing it lightly. It was weird to think back and realize that they hadn't known each other for more than a few days. But to see how far they had come together, it warmed his heart. He hoped that their connection would only strengthen more as time progressed. If that happened and they continued on the route they were on, he was totally convinced that they really would become legends of the west. Alfred leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against the Englishman's lips (as was slowly becoming tradition in the mornings), and beamed happily. "I'm really glad I met you Arthur."

[Crocky Kirkland]

"Don't way that, not some jerk is going to come bursting through the door and try to kill us." Arthur said sipping his tea with a grin. He would have laughed at the irony if something like that had actually happened. He use to say the same thing to Peter when he would get over confident and say something silly. Peter didn't exactly stop saying things like that, but he was very careful about it when Arthur was around. He smiled as Alfred took his hand and leaned forward to kiss giving a soft hum. He could honestly get use to a life like this, even with all the crazy running around, it was so different from life back in England. Sure his family would probably thing he lost it, but Arthur was honestly happy. "I'm happy I meet you too," Arthur said leaning his head against Alfred's shoulder and feeling like everything was right in the world.

He wonder if this feeling of perfection was thing he read in books back home. Book his parents (sometimes his father, but mostly his mother) found it great for him to read and others they might have frowned upon. Still most of the books were in rich parts of Europe, not the dusty, poor, American west. Arthur wondered if some story like this would even sell back in Europe, but it's not like he couldn't try, just for another thing to smear in his father's face.

Arthur's thoughts shifted quickly to what they were going to do that day. With what happened the day before they needed rest, lots of it. Ivan might try something as well. "Maybe we should leave at night." Arthur suggested suddenly. The town would be busy then and most thieves were thinking about sleep and not about jumping someone or killing them for anything. "Beside the night will give us some cover, if we're lucky no one will notice us."

"Matthieu, c'est le moins que nous pourrions faire, vous avez été inconscient, ma chère!" The sound of French sounded out side the door.

[Sheriff Jones]

His heart fluttered wildly in his chest when Arthur laid his head against his shoulder. There was something so perfect within that simple act and it created a feeling of such beauty within himself, that Alfred found that he never wanted that moment to end. His eyelids dropped over his pools of blue and he focused entirely on the way the world felt - savoring it, for soon it would be broken. He then tucked away the feelings deep within his memory, just in case he never encountered another moment like it again. The moment does eventually pass, but he cannot find it in his heart to mourn. The fact that at only nineteen years of age he has felt something more profound that anything most people will feel within their entire lives was too great of an honor to ignore. So, he let himself silently reveal in happiness as the two of them rested.

When Arthur spoke again, he forced himself back into reality. He thought over the suggestion and nodded, liking the idea of waiting around for a few hours before attempting to make the journey back home again. "You're probably right. If you feel well enough to travel again." After what happened last time, Alfred wasn't entirely convinced of the security of his partner's wound. Perhaps if Matthew felt up to it, he could look over it and give him peace of mind. Actually, he should probably have checked on Matthew this morning. He did sort of leave his unconscious body under the care of a French pervert. But than again, under the circumstances, it was the best option at the time. In any event, he should probably go and make sure that his twin hadn't been molested during the night.

The sound of rapid French being spoke outside the door alerted Alfred of the others presence before anything else. Ah, he guessed he didn't have to go in search of them then. Not a few seconds later, Matthew came through the door, looking a tad bit panicked. "Alfred!" He cried out, rushing over to pull his brother into a hug, "Are you okay? When I woke up here, I thought something had happened to you." The sheriff simply smiled and rubbed his brother's back in a comforting manner. Francis stood by the door, watching the exchange silently. Apparently he had done a fairly decent job looking after his brother then. Alfred made a mental note to thank him when the opportunity presented itself. "I'm fine Mattie! You know nothing could ever keep me down," He said with a laugh as his brother pulled away. Matthew gave him a gentle smile and looked him over again. "Are you sure that you're absolutely fine?" Alfred nodded again, putting on his best grin.

Instantly, his brother's worried expression shifted to that of irritation as he smacked his twin smartly across the face. "How dare you do something so dangerous! I knew you were stupid, but dammit Alfred! You were practically hanging out of a moving carriage with bullets flying over you! Are you trying to kill yourself?" Alfred ducked behind Arthur to avoid Matthew's blows. He could hear Francis chuckling at the brotherly display from his spot by the door. "Hey! Ow! Mattie! Come on, stop!" The doctor pulled back after he got in a few good hits to the head before turning his attention to Arthur. "How is your side doing Mr. Kirkland? Francis told me you managed to sew your wound back up. Are you feeling alright?"

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur took his head off Alfred's shoulder the moment the French got closer and there was a rattling at the door. He spared a smile smile and Matthew's reaction, again feeling a bit jealous of Alfred. The only time his brothers had been worried was when he got lost in the forest by his aunts estate. Scott had given him a good whack on the head for being gone for nearly two whole days. Still Alfred and Matthew were quite a thing to watch. However he gasped a bit when Matthew smacked Alfred, doing his best not to laugh. Francis was trying desperately to contain his as well.

He lost it when Alfred ducked behind him. Arthur honestly didn't expect Matthew to drive such fear into his brother. He covered his mouth in an attempted to stop the laugh, but it made it a bit hard with Matthew reaching around Arthur to get a good hit. Eventually it stopped though, and he took a calming breath and let a few more chuckles as Matthew asked about his side.

"I'm getting use to it, it's really fine." Arthur said, "I've never actually sewn surgically, but it can't be that different form fixing a whole in a shirt." He hoped that, because Arthur was not looking forward to having to have them redone and have more pain. "Are you okay, you were unconscious."

"You are also, hungover, non?" Francis questioned, crossing his arms and leaning forward with a sly look on his face. "You drank all of the alcohol in Matthieu's bag."

Arthur blushed, remembering what Alfred told him about what he said. He snatched Alfred's pillow, burying his face in it. God, he hoped he didn't say too much in front of Francis. "I'm sorry," He said into the pillow.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred pouted from his hiding place behind the Brit. How come he was laughing at him? Matthew could hit hard when he wanted to! He didn't understand what it was like dealing with an overprotective brother who only acted shy and quiet around strangers! Honestly, everybody who ever meet the twins (at least when they were children together) would coo at Matt for being the 'cutest, most innocent child anyone could ask for'. Pfft, as if there was any truth about that. Matthew was just as mischievous as Alfred was, he was just more sneaky about it! "Hey! Don't laugh Arthur!" He exclaimed, lips pursed in his signature pout. "You're supposed to be on my side," He mumbled, crossing his arms and looking more like a child then ever.

When Francis brought up Arthur's hangover, it was somewhat amusing to watch the Englishman's cheeks go pink with embarrassment. And as tempted as he was to poke some more fun about the fairies hiding his shoes, he figured the other man wouldn't appreciate letting Francis in on what he had said the night before. Still, he let out a little chuckle at the memory. Matthew on the other hand, shook his head and offered a polite, "It's fine. I understand you needed something for the pain," before elbowing Alfred in the side for snickering. Once that was all said and done, Matthew stood up and returned to Francis's side by the door. "Do you think we can afford to rest a bit longer before traveling again?" Alfred nodded, flashing Arthur a quick glance. He didn't think they were completely out of danger yet, but the possibility of anything happening at the moment seemed slim. "I think so. Artie says we should probably move out of here around nightfall though."

Both Matthew and Francis seemed to consider this before nodding. "Seems reasonable," The Frenchman added as he slipped a hand down to graze Matthew's backside. The young doctor squeaked and slapped his hand away, a hot blush appearing on his cheeks. Francis just laughed and lightly took the good doctor's hand. "I think that if we have a few hours to spare, Matthieu and I shall take our leave. You two, try not to be too loud, oui?" With a naughty wink, Francis pulled Matthew from the room and shut the door behind him. Alfred stared at the wooden door, looking slightly conflicted. His brother was probably getting molested right now by the creepy man, but from the look on his face when they departed the room, it almost looked like Matthew didn't mind so much. The sheriff shivered a bit and opted not to think about it. If Matthew were really opposed to the idea, he had no doubt in his mind he could beat the living daylights out of Francis. "I guess that means we're on our own for the rest of the day," He said with a careless shrug. "You should rest some more, while you can. It seemed like you weren't sleeping very well."

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur nodded in the pillow as Alfred pouted, Matthew talked, and Francis didn't make it any better with his last comment. He peeked up when he heard the door closed and glanced at Alfred. "Sorry, I couldn't help it, I just wasn't expecting it." Arthur said suppressing a chuckle. "My brothers weren't like that really." Arthur pulled on knee up and leaned the pillow against it.

Alfred suggestion of him getting more sleep surprised him, he felt he could use it with the headache and all. He was about to ask Alfred what he meant when he bit back the question and thought for a bit. Arthur didn't remember much from after the second bottle of whiskey so he wasn't sure if he had been unrestful when he was first falling asleep. "I suppose." Arthur said thinking back to the dream he had had earlier.

He eased himself to lay down and not bother his side. He handed Alfred his pillow back and laid on his own, waiting for sleep to come, but it wasn't going to come rushing back to him. He wasn't sure what to do to occupy the time till he was able to drift back to sleep.

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred took his pillow back from Arthur and watched him settle back down within the mess of blankets. With the amount of alcohol he had took into his body the previous night, he really did need to sleep. However, it was clear from the expression on his face that he wasn't finding it easy to drift off once more. The young sheriff sank back down onto the mattress as well, silently watching as Arthur tried to rest. The room went quiet again, save for Alfred's nervous rustling as he tried to get comfortable. He kept glancing back at the British man, desperately fighting back to urge to pull him into a warm hug. He really must be growing bolder (or stupider), because now that their relationship had progressed to casual kissing, he wanted to have them be able to hold one another as well. Alfred's face flushed a bit as he imagined them sleeping in each others arms. Lord what had happened to him? When did he become such a sap?

The young sheriff nervously cleared his throat to get the smaller man's attention. "Arthur? Do you think... I know your side is still hurt in all, so I understand if you say no but..." Stop rambling. Stop rambling! "Can I hold you?" Oh yes Alfred, nice going. How manly he was to be asking somebody to cuddle with him after only being properly acquainted for a grand total of three days. Seriously, had he always been this much of a sap? His cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his eyes fixed on the wall just behind Arthur's head. Well, what was said had already been said - he couldn't take it back now. Hopefully the Brit wouldn't start laughing at him again - that would make him feel a hundred times more embarrassed then he already was. Oh damn, if he had been in Arthur's position, he probably would have laughed too. So Alfred silently resigned himself to his fate and waited silently for his partner to laugh in his face.

[Crocky Kirkland]

Arthur glanced up at Alfred when he started talking. He blushed at the question. No one had asked to hold him. His mother had when he was young, and sometimes his female mates who were just wanting to lazy around. Of course it was a lazy sort of holding and usually he was the one who did was doing it.

"I..." He paused, the idea sounded lovely. No one was going to walk in on them either and if it was it would either be Francis or Matthew, and all Francis needed was a well aimed shoe to the right area and a warning look. Arthur wasn't sure about Matthew but surely he and Alfred could think of something. No stranger was going to come in because they hadn't checked out yet. "That sounds lovely." He said finally, "Just be careful."

[Sheriff Jones]

Alfred gaze snapped down to Arthur's face when he heard him speak. At first, all he could do was stare stupidly as he tried to make sense of the response. No way had Arthur agreed. He had sounded like such a moron before, stumbling over his own words as he tried to get out a request that was far too presumptuous this early in their relationship - how could Arthur have been taken in by that? Despite his mind's inability comprehend what the Brit had said, there was no denying that he had actually said it. So, Alfred allowed himself to beam happily and nod his head in a silent thanks. Then he leaned forward. As gently as he possibly could, he slipped both his arms around Arthur's small form and pulled him up against his chest. He made sure not to move too suddenly or pull too roughly in order to agitate his side, instead remaining careful as he settled the Englishman's weight against him. "Is this okay?" He asked nervously, chin pressed lightly up against the top of Arthur's head.

Once he was convinced Arthur was comfortable, Alfred lay back against the bed and let his eyes drift shut. The feelings coursing through him were better than he imagined. The light pressure and warmth of the Englishman's body soothed him, allowing him to forget all the worries and pent-up stress. His breathing began to even out as he was lulled into a light, but much needed slumber. Even as he fell completely asleep, his arms would tighten every once in a while in reassurance that Arthur was still there before relaxing once more. No bad dreams or memories visited him that day, for the entire time he slept, he wore a content smile on his peaceful face. Once, close to when he was about to awaken, he muttered a single word as he exhaled. "Arthur..." He breathed, pressing his face against his soft blond locks.

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