#jim weathers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punwolf · 2 years

Link

“You brave, brave man.”

Artie with hat in hand, beamed and gave her the light, buoyant responses she enjoyed. “I know, I know, but it had to be done.” He offered his hand and she accepted assistance into their private train car.

“Yes, but not every man is willing to take a woman shopping.” Or live to tell the tale. If Recycle was going to the theater and dancing, she couldn’t go in the clothes she’d bought in New Athens. Artie was kind enough to be her escort while she made purchases, and it was one of the most endearing things anyone had ever done.

Jim was already inside, almost dressed for a double date. Modern tail tuxedos lost the extreme ruffles in the front, but otherwise weren’t too different from the sexy look Recycle was used to. “Look at you, all dressed up and handsome. Want a hand?” She didn’t wait for an answer and took a moment to neatly set and arrange Jim’s bow tie. It was amazing what a Garou was forced to learn with a wolf born in the pack.

“There you are.” Patting James affectionately on the freshly shaven cheek, she looked him critically up and down. “Perfect. Your date is going to melt when she sees you. There’s few things finer than a nice smelling man dressed in a tuxedo.” Looking over her shoulder her grin broadened, “Which I’m looking forward to, Mr. Gordon. Speaking of which, we both better change so we’re not late.”

“Right this way.” Artie amicably showed her to the bathroom.

“You have a tub on the train?” She demanded incredulously, and began inspecting the bathroom. “How does that work? Where do you get the water? Is it hot? Never mind, tell me later.”

Artie watched her, clearly bemused. He retreated but she overheard the conversation in the main room as she began to pondered how the layers worked under the dress. It wasn’t much different from her SCA costumes.

“Artie, that’s not a woman. That’s a force of nature. Did she just say my date would ‘melt?’”

“James my boy, I’ve never met anyone like her. Do you know we spent over two hours in my lab yesterday after dinner? I offered to take her out but I couldn’t pry her away. She understood the principles behind my chemical leeches and had a few ideas on the delivery of some of the gasses. She not only understood most of it, but she was fascinated.”

“By you?” James’ tone took on good natured ribbing, “or the lab?”

“Both! I’ve never seen the like and she’s so very…very…” He must have been gesturing because James finished the sentence.

“Friendly?”

“I was going to say intelligent, but you could say that, yes.”

Recycle shook her head and swallowed a laugh. Only in the western era would prolonged hugging spiced with bouts of kissing be considered 'risque’. She would have happily fallen into bed with Artie, but his codes of social conduct were different from hers. He was a wonderful, heartfelt kisser and she was more than content with that.

Artie changed the uncomfortable subject. “We’ve both seen her shoot.”

“She has a steady and accurate hand,” Jim agreed. “She told me she had brothers and fought because she was forced to. Did she tell you anything?”

“Mostly the same thing. Her parents died when she was a girl and she’s determined to make her own way in the world. According to her, she has a home in New York and came across the country to California to start a business. It failed so she’s on her way back.”

Recycle cringed and wished she had a better story. It wasn’t as if they could do a background check on her, exactly. Even if they worked for the government, there wasn’t a grid to live off of, yet. People were still born, lived out their lives, died and were buried without anyone outside of 100 miles knowing about it.

“Did she mention her education? Where she went to college?” Jim’s voice changed locations and she pictured him sitting.

“Not a word. The way she carries herself…” Artie trailed off, pondering. “I somehow doubt she’s content to needlepoint.”

Recycle snorted and raised her voice enough to go through the door. “I can’t cook, either!” Unless you counted microwave pizza.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s impolite to eavesdrop?” James asked loudly from his seat.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s impolite to talk about people behind their back?” Recycle countered.

“She has us there,” Artemus muttered with the grace to sound embarrassed.

She opened the door a crack so she could preserve modesty without shouting. “My full name is Patricia Eleanor Smith.” Named after a president’s wife who wasn’t born yet. “I haven’t gone to college but I was mentored by a man who was like a father to me.”

The boss would laugh for an hour if he heard me say that, but I can’t exactly explain how I learned to make napalm in a basement at sixteen.

“I’ve always had a natural knack with chemistry and machines. He furthered my education and a pack of brothers taught me how to shoot and fight. They wanted me to be safe, no matter if I stayed at home or went off somewhere.” She rattled off the first names of all her male pack members past and present. “They made sure to teach me some skills. Unfortunately, nobody could ever quite help me with horses. I guess it sounds extraordinary, but for me, it wasn’t any more unusual than your lives. You two are like brothers, so there’s obviously a lot of history there. You both learned all your skills somewhere, too.” She’d bet money James was former military but Artemus was as much a mystery to her as the reverse. “I am what I am, Gents.”

Hastily finishing getting dressed, she did what she could with her hair. With a few hours and an expensive salon she might have pulled off the fancy styles she’d seen other women wear. Doing it herself? It was out of the question. She was satisfied with it being brushed and pinned up strategically in a few places to make it look more elaborate. A hat helped. With make up, perfume and a dress which showed off her best assets without being revealing, she didn’t think the hair mattered.

She was right. Artie was in a tuxedo almost identical to James’ when she emerged, and her alterations enraptured both men. All conversation about her past was forgotten. “What do you think?” Doing a full twirl she loved how the fabric rustled and the soft, pale blue color of the many delicate pleats and folds.

“Beautiful.” Artie offered his arm and she threaded her hand through it. “Simply marvelous.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere, Handsome.” Recycle leaned up to kiss him.

She situated herself next to Artemus, sitting close enough for reassuring body warmth until an attractive woman arrived, looking for Jim.

Recycle assumed James and his date enjoyed their evening, but her eyes were only for Artemus. They started out as a double date with fine French cuisine which tasted better either from the company or fresh ingredients. After dinner, Recycle and Artemus absorbed themselves in a night of dancing which left her breathless.

Within an hour, they laughed in sheer delight of companionship. Recycle wasn’t the best dancer, but she was graceful enough to avoid stomping Artie’s feet too often. The last time she danced in that style was middle school, but she got more practiced as the night wore on.

Collapsing into a chair, she clutched both his hands. “I can’t remember when I’ve had a better time!” Breathing heavily in her dress had a good effect on her gentle, intelligent, wonderful companion. She teased him a little by subtly arching her back. “I don’t think I could dance another step tonight.”

Sitting beside her to catch their breath, he took a long drink. “Would you be so kind as to go on a walk with me?”

“I’d love to!” She assumed Jim would find them if he needed anything. No doubt his lucky lady was enraptured by a pair of big blue eyes, athletic build, substantial wallet and polished manners.

It was the last thought of James that evening and when Artie offered his arm she brushed him off. Instead, she looped her arm around his waist. “I don’t bite,” she chided with a secretive half laugh.

“I’m certainly relieved to hear that.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Patricia,” he began seriously after a short stroll beneath the stars. “Where do you plan on going now that James and I are being reassigned?”

“Back to New York, I suppose.” She regretted the thought. If the Television Realm was a place she could call home, she would have remained. She had too many responsibilities. Her pack might still be alive and her home was another city in another world. People she cared about were there and she couldn’t let them think she’d been lost or killed.

“There’s no chance at all I might convince you,” he ventured tentatively, “to stay?”

She wished she could and enfolded him into a mutual hug, absorbing the simple joy of his arms. “I can’t, and you can’t ignore the president.” She still wasn’t sure who was in office. “However,” she looked directly into his eyes, “I promise you this. We’ll see each other again.” If he had a phone number to text or email it would have been so much simpler. “Can I send you telegraphs or is that for government use only?”

“You know how to operate a telegraph?” he asked skeptically.

If you only knew how easy it is to learn from the internet.

“Not yet, but let me amaze you. Or I could just send it from a telegraph office.” If New Athens had one, how rare could they be?

“Then you wouldn’t amaze me,” he retorted dryly and kissed her.

She leaned into it, letting it deepen and linger.

“We’ll find a way,” he breathed when they broke for a few seconds.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Soon.” Anything else was drowned out as they kissed again.

#Wild wild west #james wes #jim weathers #artemus gordon #werewolf the apocalypse #world of darknes #wod #cwod #fanfic #fanfiction #whuffie writes

2 notes · View notes