#yeah that is what I am calling the mr. charming x carrie ship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crunchbites-muscle-structure · 6 years

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Just Business [Andyoming]

hi guys this is my contribution to rarepair week xoxo

ship: andy x wyoming

tags: modern au, office au, new york city, hints of flyoming, flyoming shot down, fluff

thnx pls enjoy!

17 Mar 2014

Mr. Flowers,

I would be well inclined toward a meeting on the 24th to discuss these business ventures more in-depth. The company contains a room suited perfectly for meetings such as this, private and well-designed, where we could perhaps meet. Please inform me what time that day would work best for you.

Best Regards,

Mr. W.Y. Reginald

Freelancer Pharmaceuticals

---

20 Mar 2014

Dearest Reginald,

I am pleased as punch to receive your email! Your plan sounds perfect, and we will meet on the 24th at 6:30 p.m. I have one single qualm with your original idea, and that is that I live by the rule of always mixing business with pleasure. I would quite like us to meet at Crunchbite on South Avenue. I’d be pleased as punch to see you there!

Stay sunny,

Captain Butch Flowers

Blood Gulch Pharmacies, Inc.

---

Reginald most definitely wasn’t “pleased as punch” at his correspondent’s response. He didn’t do dinner dates; he did business. The other businessman’s file had indicated a history of professionalism, competence, and economic strategy to woo billionaire’s- Reginald needed this man as an ally, and the company needed a partner. He drummed his fingers against the wood of his desk.

He had read and reread the email several times over the past four days, and the time came now that he was called to action.

With a sigh, he rose from the desk and left his office, locking the door behind himself. He greeted Connie in the elevator, and then stepped out on ground floor, leaving behind the delicate hums and rhythms of elevator jazz. The bronze-hued lobby clicked by under his polished black heels and then the summer humidity of a New York evening greeted him. Taxis and honking horns filled the streets, noise pollution and crowds assaulting his senses as soon as Reginald entered the sweat-inducing street. He grimaced and moved to his town-car; his driver awaited him already, having been alerted to the impending meeting. Honestly, Reginald mentally bickered as he headed out, what sort of businessman suggested a place called “Crunchbite” as a place for meetings of financial significance?

As the driver greeted him with niceties and entered the rambunctiousness of New York City traffic, Reginald changed from his striped work suit-jacket to a finer fabric, and swapped his red tie for a black one. He combed his hair in the mirror and withdrew a fine-toothed mustache comb from his wallet to groom his mustache. By the time they reached South Avenue, a finer man had readied himself to court a company.

He asked his driver to return in an hour and a half, as he couldn’t see any reasonable business meeting or restaurant taking longer than that. His driver left the area, abandoning Reginald to whatever fate might await him.

Inside the building, Reginald spoke to the host and found a reservation waiting for him. He was led to his booth; on the way, he found the restaurant slightly less atrocious than he’d expected. Dark hardwood floors, indigo tablecloths, fine art- mostly abstract oil paintings of outer-space or aqua-themed scenes- along the walls. Perhaps he could justify carrying a briefcase in here, even if it wasn’t the finest of dining establishments.

However, his night- and this correspondence- took another unwanted twist:

The man at the booth most definitely wasn’t Butch Flowers.

He was beefy, more muscle than fat; wore a green button-down with a mustard stain on the sleeve and jeans that faded around the cuff; his dark blonde hair was tousled and ungroomed; and his general expression left one with a feeling of distinct unpleasantness. He barely spared the menu relief long enough to glance up at Reginald.

“Hey, how ya doin’? Name’s Andrews, go by Andy. Mind if I call ya Reggie?”

Reginald swallowed the urge to clear his throat and forced himself not to side-eye the stranger as he sat down. “Reginald, if you will. If you don’t mind my asking, where is Mr. Flowers?”

“Flo couldn’t make it. Reginald, is it? You got it, Reggie.”

“I-” Really need this investment. Reginald forced his composure and requested a wine as a waiter approached for the drink order. He turned back to Andy. “I’ve got the proposal ready for signing, if you would like. It’s separated by distinct clauses and sub-clauses; I thought you could go through, put an X on the parts you disagree with-”

“Flo would have to sign it, you’re shit outta luck either way,” Andy said. “I’m just here to pick up your briefs and get a free dinner. Ask you a few questions on Flo’s behalf. That kinda thing. And you’re obligated by societal convention to put up with my ass for an hour.”

Reginald-

Reginald hated him.

But if this man could be frank, then so could Reginald. It was clear this was some sort of- some sort of joke, a practical joke or a prank or something equally devious and unwanted, and if the other company would try to ward off Reginald by sending this pissing git for a business meeting, then Reginald would fight the good fight. He might lose the trade agreement, but his pride was more important anyway.

“I’m not obligated by a single bloody thing to tolerate that attitude for the next hour,” Reginald said. “You’ll find me not the type to tolerate unmannered twats any longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Well, I’m not the type to deal with twats too much, either! Let’s call this a date, shall we?”

Reginald had always been known for blood pressure problems. Tonight just might be a new record for speed.

He looked up with a glare ready, the devil in his eyes to spew fire at this sack of piss and vinegar- but when he met Andy’s eyes, the stranger bounced his eyebrows at him and cast a surprisingly charming grin his way.

“What d’ya say? Haven’t been on a date in a while. Might be nice. I’ll still be a piece of shit, but maybe you’ll gain something out of joining me.”

I hate him, Reginald thought. Hate him with all my bloody might. And I regret this already.

“...Very well. But first, we discuss business.”

---

The night shifted surprisingly quickly from blood-pressure-raising to wine-induced jokes and horrible rudeness and only the pettiest of insults. The merlot danced on Reginald’s taste buds, granting an appealing grace to Andy’s features and tone. The business aspects of the evening were quickly completed, with Andy taking the folder containing the proposal and contract. Signing would be done in person a week from that day, at the office, after Flowers had the chance to look over the contract.

By the time they’d finished eating, Reginald had discovered Andy lacked a ride home. On the pretense of their date continuing, as piss-poor as it was, Reginald still offered the rude yet somehow charming fellow a ride home.

He held the door of Crunchbite open, now seeing Andy’s beefiness in a much more appreciable light, mostly courtesy of the merlot. They entered out into the night and Reginald slid into the town-car. Once the driver had re-entered, they started off again, toward Andy’s address.

Reginald had crafted a careful persona in the presence of those who knew him from business, or who had met his business associates. Even his driver had never seen him short of polished, pompous, and refined. Tonight, however, in the presence of tongue-loosening Andy, Reginald let that persona slip- for a half-hour, Reginald’s driver saw a much louder, much ruder, and altogether much less polished version of Reginald.

They reached the complex where Andy lived, and Reginald excused himself briefly from the towncar to see his new acquaintance safely to the door. They reached the fourth floor before Andy withdrew a key from his pocket and entered it into the lock. He opened the door and turned to Reginald.

“And you sure you can’t stay a while? Maybe kick up some sheets, muss up that mustache?”

Reginald laughed and then his face flattened. “No one fucks with the stache.”

“I can dig it,” Andy said. “Always had a bit of a thing for pompous assholes with good mustaches.”

Andy stepped closer to Reginald and Reginald met the tawny eyes. “Perhaps someday we’ll get further than the doorstep.”

Reginald stepped closer as Andy said, “We could now, if ya not a coward.”

This prompted something competitive in Reginald but he quashed it. Practicality still spoke more loudly than merlot. “Some other time. But for tonight…”

He leaned up and touched his lips to Andy’s. The other man’s meaty hands pulled him closer. Reginald’s hands found Andy’s chest as teeth met his bottom lip. A gasp cut from him, sharp, as Andy’s teeth parted from his lips and lips mashed back into his. Reginald forced himself to press one last kiss to Andy and then step back.

“I’ll call you sometime,” Reginald said.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

Reginald repressed the juvenile urge to roll his eyes and handed Andy his business card. “You call me, then. Goodnight, Mr. Andrews.”

“Night, Reggie.”

Andy disappeared through the door and Reginald returned downstairs and entered the town-car.

As they headed toward his penthouse, his driver said, “Mr. Reginald, forgive my interference, but you can’t possibly be serious about that one.”

Reginald chuckled.

“I’m afraid I”m only too serious about this one.”

#rvb rarepair week #red vs blue #agent wyoming #andy the bomb #butch flowers #modern au #fluff #office au

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unofferable-fic · 4 years

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The Flower & The Serpent (Arthur Morgan x OFC)

Chapter 8 - A Blight for the Ages

Summary: In the early 1890s, the Van der Linde Gang were truly at their finest. Experts at stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they’ve made a name for themselves across the West. Two of their newest recruits, a pair of rebellious Irish siblings with an unknown past, slowly find their footing and settle into their new lives as outlaws. And yet, as they grow older, threats from all sides begin to appear. A strained relationship with Colm O'Driscoll spells disaster for the gang, and no matter how far they roam across America, the world continues to change around them. If they want to survive, difficult choices must be made. No one is as they seem and the impending arrival of law and order threatens to tear the siblings, and everything they hold dear, apart. Is it too late for anyone to find a happy ending?

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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OFC

Warnings: Language, fluff.

Word Count: 5,728

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “Little Lies” — Fleetwood Mac, “My Sweet Love Ain’t Around”— Hank Williams, “Where Did You Sleep Last Night” — Nirvana

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A/N: Also available on AO3.

5th September, 1893, outside Winterset, Iowa

A couple of days have passed since Maebh, William, and I headed into Saint Charles to get information for the train, and a couple days since they bumped into an old friend. I enquired after Mícheál (and how to spell his name) this morning over coffee. According to Maebh, they met him on the ship that brought them to America. His land was bought out by the British and he was given the choice to either leave or be shot dead. It’s not like he had much of an option. After meeting on the ship, he bought a new farm not far from their own, meaning that they saw him regularly growing up. Now he owns a farm a couple miles outside town and invited them over for tea whenever they wanted to see a familiar face and catch up. It would probably be good for them to do just that — maybe speaking their own language and reliving fond memories with an old friend would be a welcome break from stealing and shooting.

Today, we got plans. Trelawny is due to swing by after being away for a while. Apparently he was contacted once Marston and Dutch has settled on a plan of action for the heist. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see how that goes. I also have to leave tomorrow to pay Eliza and Isaac a visit before we take on the train. It’s going to be a busy few days…

* * *

Josiah Trelawny’s arrival was always something that brought with it a flamboyant and grandiose flair. He could disappear for months on end and still somehow have everyone happy to see him upon his return. He was also the only one in camp who got away with this manner of living. Arthur supposed it was because he always brought useful leads and ideas with him. That, and he was a great connection for them to have. They wouldn’t have been able to do many of their heists without his intel and input.

So, when the luxurious man rode into camp, Arthur shouldn’t have been surprised to see him carrying a large sack of what he presumed to be helpful contents.

“Good to see you, Arthur!” Trelawny greeted him as he strolled up to Dutch’s tent. “And you as well, Dutch.”

“Josiah,” Arthur nodded in return. “It’s been a while.”

“I suppose it has.”

“A while or not,” Dutch began, offering the newcomer a cigar. “You’re always welcome, my friend.”

Trelawny accepted the cigar with a grin and proceeded to light it. “Such hospitality from a band of filthy degenerates!”

Dutch chuckled. “We may be filthy, but we ain’t degenerates.” He was quick to call John, Maebh, and William over to join them.

When the trio approached, Trelawny greeted them with enthusiasm. “My, you three have gotten so big since I last saw you.”

John was quick to defend them. “We ain’t kids.”

Josiah only offered sarcasm in return. “A pleasure as always, Mr Marston. I am merely stating that you were all smaller the last time I saw you.”

“It’s only been a few months,” William responded, though he greeted the man with a firm handshake. “Relax yourself.”

“Young William! Good to see you!”

“Took your time gettin’ back to us,” Maebh teased him. “Welcome back.”

“And Miss Maebh,” he said, taking her hand. “It is good to see you, dear.”

When he placed a kiss on her knuckles, the young woman only laughed. “Relax with the charm for a sec — you only just got back.”

“Why’d you call us over here anyhow?” John asked with a frown. “To flirt?”

William gestured to his shirt collar. “If you’re dyin’ for Trelawny's attention, you’ll have to undo some of those buttons first.”

“For clothes, son,” Dutch replied. “New clothes for the four a’you.”

“Wait,” William cut in, smiling slightly. “Are they new clothes for the heist?”

“As sharp as a nail, my good man,” Trelawny said before shrugging the large sack off his shoulder. “Dutch sent for me in Des Moines a few days ago once he and John had agreed on a rough plan for your upcoming heist. Knowing you would be going in disguises, I picked up outfits for you all.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smirk as William stood up straight, visibly excitable at the concept. Within the sack was four smaller bags. Trelawny had a peak inside each before he handed them out. “That is for… Arthur. And this is young William… Miss Maebh… And Mr Marston.”

Arthur peered into his bag and looked through the contents. It appeared to contain a simple but expensive looking outfit. He noted black pants, a grey shotgun coat, a waistcoat that matched, a white dress shirt, and a black dress tie. He noticed that it was expensive, but nothing too ostentatious that would draw unwanted attention or make them stick out in a crowd of wealthy travellers.

“What the hell is this?” John asked, pulling out a worn-looking black vest and white shirt.

“You’re going as an employee, of course,” Trelawny replied, smoking his cigar casually. “Dutch told me you would need one, so I contacted a friend who owed me a favour.”

Arthur noticed Maebh trying to hide an amused smirk before he too was pursing his lips together.

“Well, yeah,” John stuttered before shoving the clothes back into the bag. “But I thought you’d give ’em to Hennigan, or somethin’…”

“William? Preposterous! We thought it would suit you better.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know…” Trelawny waved a hand up and down John’s frame dismissively before quickly continuing on. “Now, I also have covers for you to use if you find yourselves in conversation that requires it. John will simply be one of the train workers. William, you will be a young salesman travelling alone across states for business, and Maebh and Arthur shall be a newlywed couple looking to buy livestock in the next state over.”

The revelation had Arthur grinning. It was always good to know that he would have someone he could trust watching his back on such an important heist. He looked at Maebh to see her already smiling at him. “Lookin’ forward to it, husband.”

“I ain’t husband material,” he admitted with a laugh. “But I’ll try my best.”

“‘Ain’t husband material’,” she repeated with a look of disbelief. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I do love a good backstory,” William said as he studied a grey crusher hat he pulled from his bag. “It gives me somethin’ to work with so I can get into character.”

“You and Arthur will also need to trim those beards,” Josiah added, gesturing to their furry chins. “But we can wait until the day to have that done.”

Arthur let out a grumble, but said nothing when Dutch gave him a disapproving look. “It’ll grow back, Arthur.”

“Never come between a fella and his facial hair, Dutch,” Maebh joked, noting Arthur’s sour expression. “Especially not these two.”

“Here are their tickets,” Josiah announced and handed them on to Dutch for safe keeping. “You will all be seated in the carriage closest to the front of the train, and John should have the ability to move freely between most areas. That should be everything you’ll need.”

“Thank you, Josiah,” Dutch said earnestly as he placed the tickets beside his cot. “We wouldn’t be able to do this without ya and I’ll have you reimbursed for the clothes.”

“Are you goin’ t’stay for a bit?” Maebh asked curiously.

“But of course, my dear!” Trelawny replied with gusto and offered her his arm. “I have much to tell you and your brother about my travels.”

“I was hopin’ you learned more magic tricks while you were away.”

“Trust me, this magician has much to show.”

William was quick to take his sisters bag as she accepted Josiah’s arm. Arthur simply chuckled and shook his head as his old friend began a rambling tale of his apparent adventures. Once he had dropped off his own clothes in his tent, he joined the rest of them by the campfire where he continued to recount embellished stories that were probably mostly waffle. Regardless, the gang spent most of the evening around the fire, drinking and allowing Trelawny most of the floor in-between bouts of singing and music led by a happy and drunk Uncle.

Arthur was merely cheerful knowing that their plans for the train were thankfully moving swiftly and positively. The confidence within the gang was growing with each successful move — this take was going to be big.

* * *

Maebh sat on her bedroll, unable to keep her eyes from leaving her book and focusing on a busy figure not far away — Arthur.

The older man was packing a small bag with clothes and food, much like he did every few months before he dipped out for weeks on end. In that time, she had no idea where he went or what he was doing, but she couldn’t help but be inquisitive.

“Good book?” her brother asked, announcing himself as he returned from a hunting trip. He plopped himself down on the bedroll beside her. “You still on Othello? How long does it take you to bleedin’ read?”

“You ever wonder where Arthur goes on his trips?” she asked, completely ignoring his question.

William followed her stare before he offered a reply. “Uh, not particularly? I never put much thought into it.”

“I have,” she admitted, watching intently as Dutch came to offer Arthur some form of a goodbye. She got the feeling that most people in camp knew where he went on these trips. “I’m kinda curious ’bout it.”

“Why?”

“I mean, why not? What does he do in the time he’s away from camp? Is he visitin’ someone? Doin’ jobs on the side? Bounty hunter work? Oh! Or maybe he’s secretly a stage performer?”

He blinked, eyes narrowing slightly at the thought. “Okay, so maybe the possibilities are a little interestin’...”

“See? Now you’re speakin’ my language.”

As she shut her book and got to her feet, her younger brother frowned. “You goin’ to harass him?”

“Jesus, I’m only goin’ to say bye, alright? You comin’?”

He shook his head. “I already had a chat with him earlier and I promised to help Pearson with the deer I brought in. I’ll leave you to it.”

Maebh was quick to exit the tent, stretching as she stood. She ventured over to where Arthur was attaching his bag to Boadicea’s saddle. Copper the dog sniffed around nearby, circling his owner inquisitively. She grinned as Arthur gently patted the mare’s neck, cooing kind words that made the horse bob her head in delight. “You off again, Mr Morgan?”

He offered her a polite smile. “I am indeed, Miss Hennigan.”

“Will you be back in time for the train?” she asked, gently rubbing Boadicea’s muzzle.

“O’course. I’m only goin’ for a couple days this time so I’ll be back beforehand.”

She nodded before pointing to the dog. “Is he goin’ too?”

“He usually would be, but considerin’ I’m goin’ for a shorter trip, ain’t much point in bringin’ him along before leavin’ again.”

“Myself and William can keep an eye on him if you want?”

“You sure?” he asked as Maebh called the dog over. “I don’t want him to be a bother.”

“He’s no bother at all,” she assured him, reaching down to scratch Copper’s floppy ears. “I know we’re not as good company, but you’ll be alright with us, won’t ya, boy?”

She could see Arthur’s eyes flitting between them both, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thank you. At least now I know he’ll be in good hands:”

Maebh watched as Arthur reached into his satchel and pulled out a small piece of dried meat. Copper’s ears perked up at this development and he immediately sat down obediently.

“This’ll keep you busy, boy,” Arthur cooed, handing the treat to his pet. Copper took it gently between his teeth and quickly trotted off to enjoy his gift. “He won’t bother ya much, I promise.”

“Again, he’s no bother, Arthur,” she replied with a scoff. “He’s a lovely dog so I don’t mind it.”

Even still, Arthur expressed gratitude again before mounting up and grasping the reigns in his large hands. He carefully placed his gambler hat on his head and then sighed. “I think I’m good to go...”

“Got everythin’ you need?” she asked, blocking the sunshine with her hand as she looked up at him.

“Sure do. I’ll see you in ’bout a week, Miss Hennigan. You take care o’that brother o’yours.”

“I’ll try my best.”

She stood back and gave him a wave as Arthur lead Boadicea out of camp and out of her company for a week’s time. Even still, she couldn’t ease the curiosity welling in her gut. She never asked where he was off to, mostly because she knew he wouldn’t tell her regardless. She was certain that anyone who was part of the gang before her arrival knew, but anyone after definitely did not. They all just eventually gave up asking when they never got an answer. Either way, she wondered where Arthur was going for months at a time and whether she would ever find out.

In the days after their first trip to Saint Charles, both Maebh and William had been back on a few occasions, most of which involved scouting the area down south where the robbery would be taking place. There were still details they had to sort here and there, but Dutch seemed quite happy with how things had been so far. They had time yet to get a handle on the finishing details, like more details around who they would be on the train. Or in William’s words, ‘what parts we’re playin’’. It seemed that Trelawny’s original proposals had sent William off on a tangent.

Deciding that it was best to be productive that morning despite Arthur’s absence, Maebh approached Mr Pearson as he stood over the massive stew pot. William stood nearby, skinning a deer. “Mornin’, Mr Pearson.”

“Good mornin’ to you, Miss Hennigan,” he offered in return. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m just wonderin’ if you’ve any jobs that need doin’.”

Pearson paused at his work before clicking his fingers and grabbing a small piece of paper on his table. “I have a list of supplies that need buyin’ if you’d like to take that on?”

“Might as well,” she replied and took the list he offered with a smile. “Cheers. I’ll head over to Winterset and pick them up now.”

“I’d take the wagon with ya — it’s a fair amount.”

As she strolled towards the gang’s supply wagon, she called for her sibling. “William! Tar anseo, le do thoil!”

He was quick to approach once the deer was taken care of, and asked curiously. “Where you off to?”

“Town. Pearson needs some more supplies from the general shop. You want’a come?”

“Yeah, gewon. I’ll join you. Just let me wash my hands.”

“Best bring Copper too actually. I told Arthur we’d keep an eye out for him.”

At that, William quickly cleaned his hands in a bucket of water and then whistled for the dog, who came running over. He was rewarded with scratches behind the ear and pats on the head from the young man. It didn’t take much for his tail to begin wagging enthusiastically.

Maebh was just about to climb into the front seat of the wagon when Bessie approached. “Where are you two off to?”

“A supply run for Pearson,” she replied. “We’re headin’ into Winterset to grab what he needs.”

“Mind if I join you? I have to pick up some things myself.”

“Sure!” Maebh offered her a smile before adding. “You feelin’ up for it?”

“I’m certainly feelin’ better than what I was,” Bessie explained. “I may be old, Miss Hennigan, but I ain’t dead yet.”

“It takes a lot to knock you down, Mrs Matthews. Hop on.”

“You take the front seat with Maebh,” William insisted as he offered Bessie a hand up. “I’ll hop in the back with Copper.”

“Such a polite young man,” the older woman teased as she climbed into the seat with his assistance. “When you ain’t holdin’ up a bank.”

He shrugged at the joke and cracked a small smile. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“And endless charm to boot.”

“Ya see? This is why you’re one of my favourite people.”

At that moment, Uncle came towards the wagon and directed a question to her brother. “Did I hear y’all say you’re goin’ into town?”

“Sure did, old man,” William replied, patting Copper’s head. “Why?”

“Think you could pick me up some booze?”

Maebh rolled her eyes while William shrugged. “Sure, if you gimme the money.”

“I’ll give it to ya when you get back.”

“Ye will in your hole,” William scoffed. “I’m not buyin’ you drink with my own money, Uncle.”

“You ever hear of respectin’ your elders, kid?” Uncle retorted in an offended tone.

“You ever hear of not bein’ a scab?”

There was brief stare down before Uncle grumbled and reached into his pocket. He tossed the younger man a couple of coins before speaking again. “I think Arthur is havin’ a bad influence on you, Willy.”

“You’re lucky I’m even pickin’ this up for you at all,” the blonde replied before waving Uncle off. “Now geway before I change my mind ’bout doin’ you a favour.”

Once William was sitting on the back of the wagon with Copper safely beside him, Maebh slowly lead them out of camp. Upon reaching the main road, she urged the shire horses into a steady trot. The rolling hills of Madison county were some of Maebh’s favourite landscapes to travel through. She found something oddly relaxing about the gentle undulations of the land and the cool morning breeze. The wagon’s wheels cut through the soggy ground, moistened by a rainy night, so she was careful to take bends in the road with ease.

“What’re you pickin’ up then?” Maebh asked after a few moments of silence.

“Nosey girl,” Bessie replied with a smirk. “Some provisions mostly, and bait that Hosea needs for one of his huntin’ trips.”

“He plannin’ to go off for a few days?”

“Mm hmm. Said there’s a big buck been spotted a few counties over, so we plan on investigatin’ once the train job is outta the way.”

Maebh nodded in understanding and quickly cracked the reigns in her hands. “That’s good. We’ll be missin’ Arthur ’round camp so we could do without you and Hosea goin’ now too.”

“Arthur is always missed,” Bessie agreed a shake of her head. “I know everyone pulls their weight, but I feel like he sometimes carries the load of two men.”

Letting out a small huff, Maebh couldn’t help but agree. “He does an awful lot, I’ll give him that. He deserves the break, in all honesty.” She paused momentarily before pressing on. “At least, I think he’s takin’ a break. What’s he doin’ anywho? Huntin’? Fishin’?”

She hoped her attempt to learn some more about Arthur hadn’t come off as pushy or nosey. If she was, Bessie certainly wouldn’t have an issue warning her of the fact.

“He runs some errands,” she replied, not giving much away. “Pays some visits — the usual.”

Bessie didn’t leave much room for asking more questions about it, something Maebh figured to be intentional. Unwilling to push her luck, she simply nodded her head slightly and focused on the road ahead.

Despite the silence, Bessie continued. “What Arthur does is Arthur’s business.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I didn’t mean that you should apologise,” she hushed her gently. “All I’m sayin’ is that Arthur’s errands are personal and if and when he’s ready to tell you ’bout them, that’s his place, not mine. Much like how you two came to Hosea and I the other night. We weren’t gonna force you to say anythin’, even if we had suspicions.”

Her words were, as always, laced with a kindness and wisdom that only she and Hosea seemed to embody. Maebh appreciated the non-answer because it was certainly better than a lie or a scolding. “Noted, keep my mouth shut. Got it.”

“It ain’t that, not exactly. I’m sure when he’s ready to tell you he will.”

“I just hope it’s not ’cause he doesn’t trust me,” she explained, releasing a sigh. “He’s a good man, y’know? So I can’t help but value his opinion.”

“I do know. How ’bout you tell him that he’s a good man and maybe he’ll start believin’ it himself.”

“It’s not for lack of tryin’, I promise.”

Bessie was quick to place a comforting hand on her arm. “I know, I know. It ain’t a trust issue. You can tell Arthur is fond of the two of you.”

“For the record,” William called from his seat at the back of the wagon. “I love that big grumpy bastard too.”

“Oh I know, Mr Hennigan,” Bessie answered, brushing some greying hair out of her eyes. “There ain’t no doubt in my mind about that. You can see the mutual respect between the three of you. But don’t be puttin’ any pressure on him to talk, alright?”

“We won’t,” Maebh assured her. “The last thing I’d want to do is make him feel under pressure.”

William spoke up again. “You have our word on that, Mrs Matthews.”

Their short trip continued with some casual conversation on lighter subjects before they eventually arrived in Winterset. At the general store, they put the owner to good use, giving him the list and waiting outside as he brought everything to them one by one (including bourbon for Uncle). Together, Maebh and William loaded it all into the supply wagon while Copper watched on inquisitively, quickly sniffing the boxes and bags if he got the chance.

“Is that everythin’ I can help y’all with today?” the shop owner asked, slightly out of breath from all the heavy lifting.

“I’ve a list of my own,” Bessie said before quickly adding. “But don’t worry, it ain’t that long.”

“Well ain’t that a relief!”

Maebh quickly handed him over the pay before he and Bessie headed back inside to pick up what she needed. While they waited, she took a seat on the shop steps with William, who tossed a stick for a happy and playful Copper.

“He seems okay even though Arthur isn’t ’round,” he noted, accepting the stick once the dog returned it to him. “I thought he’d be a bit more down considerin’ he usually goes with him.”

She watched as he threw the stick again and the dog went running. “Guess it helps that he’s got good company.”

“That must be it.”

“You seem in better form lately,” she noted, turning to look at him. “Less... on edge, or somethin’.”

“The lack of events at camp have helped with that.”

“Ah. You talkin’ ’bout your watch?”

He nodded slowly with his lips pursed. “There’s been no sign of whoever that fucker was, so hopefully he stays away from us unless he fancies me stranglin’ him…”

“Hopefully it was just some idiot playin’ a dumb joke.”

“It’s an awful lot of trouble to go to just for a joke.”

“Yeah well, some people are stupid, William…”

“Whether it’s some idiot or not, as long as he stays away from camp I’ll be happy out.”

They weren’t waiting too long for Bessie to return with her goods and soon the four of them were once more riding the wagon back to camp. The journey was a pleasant one as Bessie requested they sing a song of Irish heritage, and a happy singsong ensued with everyone becoming involved. The process of unloading all the supplies was completed swiftly with Pearson’s help and the siblings were happy to help him pack it all away for future use. With little else to do, they helped him prepare lunch by chopping some vegetables and cleaning cutlery and bowls in the late morning sun. With their assistance, Mr Pearson fixed the gang some venison chilli con carne that seemed to go down quite well. After her surprisingly pleasant meal, Maebh sat by the campfire making split point bullets, meticulously carving x’s into her ammo over and over with a hunting knife. Copper lay next to her on the ground, his attention focused on a bone she’d given him earlier. She had gotten through a fair number of bullets when she heard her name being called. Looking up, she saw Dutch standing over her.

“Any chance you’d join me for a walk, Miss Maebh?” he asked, offering her his hand.

Quickly shoving the bullets into her satchel, she accepted his hand and got to her feet. “Sure. Where you off to?”

“I’m gonna go collect some ginseng for Hosea,” he explained. “Cedar Lake ain’t too far away and we should be able to find some up there. I already promised I’d help him find some, considerin’ he’s still worried ’bout Mrs Matthews. Figured you could bring Copper along.”

Upon hearing his name, the dogs ears perked up curiously.

Maebh offered Dutch a smile. “Sure, we’ll come along. You fancy a walk, boy?”

Copper’s affirmative bark was enough to go by, and the pair strolled out of camp arm in arm, the dog running alongside them with a perpetually wagging tail. It had been a while since Maebh had spent any time one-on-one with Dutch, so his characteristic advice and theoretical ramblings about the work of Evelyn Miller were a welcome change of pace. The walk was a pleasant one, and it was nice to get out of camp on foot instead of riding horseback for once. Upon arriving at the lake, they passed by the odd fisherman here and there who offered them polite hellos from a distance. One of them even pointed in the direction of a spot where ginseng usually grew. They both found what they were looking for with relative ease, as the plant was quite common to the area.

After collecting any American Ginseng they could find, they carried it all in a small bag and then headed back towards camp.

“How’s your brother been lately?” the older man asked. “I’ve noticed how he’s been somewhat on edge since the whole escapade with his pocket watch, not that I blame him.”

“He’s a bit better,” she confirmed with confidence. “I mean, he hopes he gets to squeeze the life out of whoever caused all that mischief, but I think he’s calmed down a bit since there’s been no more sightings.”

“Honestly I’d fear for anyone who suffers his wrath,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “That boy can be so eerily calm one minute before he loses all reason and sees red.”

“He can be ruthless alright. Arthur said a similar thing to me before.”

“I know that Arthur thinks quite highly of William. I would say that so do I, as do the rest of the gang, but I know that perhaps we know him a little better havin’ known him for longer. And you two grew up together, so o’course you would know him inside out.”

“I understand.” Maebh frowned and watched Copper as he happily trotted along the dirt path. “I think sometimes people can be a little afraid of William when they don’t know him. He can be very standoffish with people he doesn’t know, and has no qualms with fighting his way out of something if he’s no choice, but he would also lay down his life for those he holds closest to his heart.”

“I see what you mean,” Dutch agreed. “I think that’s why Arthur is also so fond of the boy. He sees a lot of himself in ’im, and I feel that Arthur could’ve been a lot different had Hosea and I not taken him in. The same could be said for John… I think that you two were in a similar place when we first met you in Wisconsin. Ain’t somethin’ that’s a certainty, but I like to think that we’ve been a good influence on you two.”

Maebh contemplated his words for a moment. While she had discussed ‘what could have been’ with her brother many times, openly admitting their possible downfall to the gang leader was something yet to be done. He knew a bit more about their past than Arthur did, but since meeting with Hosea and Bessie a few nights ago, they were the only ones to know of their skeletons in the closet. There were plenty of occasions where she found her thoughts drifting when lying on her bedroll at night, conjuring up vivid images of where she and William could have been had things not played out as they did. The thoughts of what they would have done to survive had the Van der Linde Boys not also tried to rob that stage caused her stomach to twist. Dutch was, by all accounts, an intelligent and honourable man. He held contempt for the rich who refused to help those suffering, and decided that someone had to bloody well do it. He invited lost souls into the fold; into his family. If he openly expressed worry for what William might have become had things been different, there was probably some truth to it. If she was honest with herself, her brother was one of the only things in this life she worried about. He was all she had left of her old life and the urge to protect him from any outside threats had only grown over the years. She was foolish to think that them growing into young adults would make her feel less determined about keeping him safe. Now, it seemed perpetual. Even still, she refused to have William be anything other than his best, which was something she took great pleasure in witnessing.

As long as he was happy in life, she would find her own joy in seeing him so content.

“Dutch, I really don’t know where William and I would be if it wasn’t for this gang. God knows how things would’ve turned out.”

“I wouldn’t worry yourself with those thoughts, my dear,” he reassured her in his usual assertive manner. “Ain’t no point in spendin’ time worryin’ ’bout what can’t be no more. No matter what might’ve happened to you and William back then don’t matter, because you’re with us now. Loyalty, Maebh. It’s what keeps us together, keeps us strong. We’re a family, and family will always have your back. I know I always say it, but the reason why we are strong is because we have faith. Faith in each other, faith in this land, faith in this life — not the one these Pinkertons say we gotta live. Ain’t nothin’ quite like a close gang like ours with unshakeable faith and the urge to do what’s right. Whatever might have been for you and for William — or even Arthur and John — don’t matter no more. What matters is that while we walk through this land of degenerates and government pets and immoral men, we walk together. Each step takes us further away from the other lives we might’a lived had we not been so lucky… It won’t be easier neither, but if we stick together, why we can create our own paradise in this land on our own terms. We do what’s right, and we do it together. Remember that, my friend. You have a good head on your shoulders, and this life can be whatever you want if you keep it that way. Don’t let the past spoil what you have now.

“I don’t want you worryin’ unnecessarily. If you ever feel your concerns with anythin’ gettin’ the better of ya, you can always come and talk to me or Hosea ’bout it. Understand?”

She had to be honest, she really did appreciate these talks with Dutch. He had a habit of always managing to get rid of any doubts she had tucked away in her mind.

“I understand, Dutch,” she replied firmly. “I have to keep my head up and my eyes forward.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, Miss Hennigan. Not when we’re here to look out for each other.”

The comforting silence of their walk was cut short at those words. From behind a tree a large figure came barrelling from the woods, wrapped in a large, brown leather coat and hiding the lower half his face behind a bandana. Maebh’s eyes fixed on the rifle he carried, now pointed directly at them. As soon as he appeared, Dutch brought her to a steady halt.

“Right, you know how this plays out,” he grumbled with a slight slur. “Gimme your money!”

His tone was not lost of Copper who began to growl deep from his furry chest. Maebh was quick to release Dutch to grab at the hound’s scruff, uncertain whether this man would hesitate in shooting the animal. His morals seemed as far receded as his hairline. The last thing she needed was to tell Arthur she got his dog shot the very day he left her alone with him.

“You shut that dumb animal up ’fore I put a bullet in ’im!” the robber snarled, visibly losing patience. “Empty your damn pockets!”

Maebh’s revolver lay holstered on her hip. Had she not been holding Copper, she might have been quick enough to draw on this unsteady man without losing any valuables, but it was becoming apparent to her that this wasn’t an option — she was completely reliant on Dutch, who hadn’t yet said a word.

The barrel of the rifle was set on them both, moving back and forth between its two targets. The thief’s brow shone with a thin layer of perspiration from either the heat of the afternoon sun, or stress of the situation.

Maebh looked to Dutch, a man who always had a plan.

She had not been expecting, however, the only response he offered their masked attacker.

He laughed.

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