This was done for the Working Title Challenge over at Mag7Land and whoot I tied for 2nd Place! Anyway, what we had to do was pick from several famous movie titles and then write a short fic based on the title. Considering my recent obsession with Ripley/Hicks ala Aliens, the choice was easy for me.
And no, neither Li-Pong, Ezra, nor Maude or the rest of the Seven or any of the characters from Mag7 belong to me.
Alien
This was not the wisest of decisions, so her family had been sure to tell her. Li-Pong made that decision anyway, choosing her course and keeping to it. She'd managed to scrape together the money she would need to make the journey while working with her mother and sister at Mrs. Pendleton's haberdashery. Upon returning to San Francisco, Li-Pong had discovered herself to be quite the seamstress, and that newly found talent had served her well now. She'd need to look the part of a proper American woman, after all. Mrs. Pendleton had been a great help as well, finding fabrics that were affordable but still lovely, arranging for Li-Pong to have the spare time to complete her new wardrobe. Considering the woman would be losing one of her best employees, she had been remarkably generous. Li-Pong had a sneaking suspicion that her former employer harbored a rather sizable romantic streak. Mrs. Pendleton didn't deny it.
Her wardrobe had taken some months to finally finish, but now, preparations complete and journey nearly over, here she sat aboard a swaying stagecoach, in all her finery or so she deemed it in the privacy of her own mind. It was no where near as fine as some of the women she had seen on the train, or even as fine as the other woman journeying to Four Corners, but it was still finer than anything she had ever worn.
Even if it was a little uncomfortable and utterly impractical.
The corset was not as horrible as she had feared it might be after listening to Mrs. Pendleton's eldest daughter carry on. It was tight, that was true, but it was hardly constrictive. Of course, Li-Pong thought to herself with a sly smile, her figure was far slimmer than that of Miss Eliza to begin with. The corset merely served to add shape, or so her mentor had explained, to accent womanly curves to their most flattering degree. As much as she might be loathe to admit it, her own modest curves needed some help.
The lace and muslin still felt strange against her skin: it was rougher than the silk she was used to. Heavy too, when she compared the several layers she currently wore to the garb of her homeland. It taken her most of the journey to get used to the effort involved in dressing for the day. And if that was not trial enough, the wide skirts took up so much space! Li-Pong had never considered how a white woman might maneuver with her very clothing stretched to either side in such a manner. She would never be able to visit Chinatown in all in such garb; she'd surely send some shopkeeper's wares tumbling about if she did.
Assuming she could walk long enough to traverse the winding streets of Chinatown in the first place, she thought, feet aching in the heeled boots fashion dictated a woman wear. She wasn't used to the extra inch or so of height, and her feet had been aching for days now. She'd kept her face as serene as she could to hide her discomfort, but she doubted she was totally successful.
Li-Pong glanced from the window of the stage to smile shyly at the woman sitting opposite her. The older woman who had just happened to share the same compartment on the train from San Francisco and now the stage as well. Li-Pong had not expected to share her journey for such a distance, but she would certainly not complain about the company. During the course of their many lively conversations, the American woman had shared a wealth of suggestions regarding easing into the pain of Western clothing. She'd been perfectly willing to practice English with Li-Pong, too, and her patience had never faltered in the face of Chinese immigrant's halting speech. Overall they'd shared a rather lovely trip together, though Li-Pong privately worried that even this stroke of fortune might be less than encouraging for her future so far from her family. Despite her efforts to hide it, her accidental companion had seemed to know just how out of her depth Li-Pong felt so far from her family and without the comfort of familiar clothing or language.
If she couldn't even manage the journey without looking and feeling out of place, how could she ever expect to fit in once she arrived at her destination? A shout from the driver made her turn to see a small town rising up out of the landscape. It was too late for second thoughts now.
The stage pulled up on the main street and slowed to a stop. The women smiled their good byes, and then the driver helped Li-Pong stepped carefully from the stage. She glanced around, looking for the seven men who guarded the town, and one she'd come so far to find. They were gathered about the front of the saloon as relaxed as they ever looked, or so she remembered.
And there he was, settled in a chair and playing with that deck of cards. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and then began walking towards them. The wirey tracker noticed her first, and he nudged the man in black beside him who signaled the older man at his side, and so on until finally the Negro tapped Ezra on his shoulder and nodded in Li-Pong's direction.
He turned to look and froze, the expression of shock on his face making Li-Pong fear she'd chosen wrong. Then slowly the shock faded and a bright unguarded smile began to creep onto his face as he stood. Li-Pong felt an answering smile lifting her lips. Perhaps she had not chosen wrong, after all.
…
Half hidden behind the stage, Maude watched her son approach the young Chinese woman, telling herself it was only a mother's right to observe his behavior. She'd immediately been drawn to the young woman on the train; it took a particular kind of courage for an immigrant to take on the garb of an American woman. Li-Pong had managed to ignore the snubs in the station, and Maude had to admire that refusal to bend to public opinion. She'd been more than happy to share a compartment with the young woman, as it seemed likely she'd have an entertaining story to tell. Maude never could stand the boredom that came with traveling alone.
Then Li-Pong had begun, in shy and wistful fits and starts, to confess her reason for traveling so far. Maude had immediately recognized her son in the lovely Chinese woman's story; Mrs. Potter had been faithful in her promise to pass on word of Maude's son once a month, and the story of him taking on the railroad on behalf of the immigrant workers had been one of his mother's favorites. Not that she'd admit it.
It was all too clear Li-Pong thought her son to be a hero. Maude sighed and buried the slight resentment. With a lovely young woman encouraging his delusions of respectability, it was far too likely he'd never leave Four Corners. She buried the urge to smile along with her irritation; bless the boy, he was just too much like his father. That was just here curse, she supposed, to be surrounded by honorable men.
She allowed herself one last glimpse of the re-union between her son and the young woman would was likely to be her future daughter-in-law, and then turned back to begin barking orders to the stage driver. She wanted to get settled in before her son realized she was back in town.
The longer it took him to realize Maude approved of his young love, the better. She had appearances to keep up after all.