A/N: the Deadwood prequel continues. Trixie continues to try to put her trauma behind her and get back to the only work she knows: whoring. The Gem gang continues to pull together with the help of couple of Virginia City folks. Trixie sees Al in a new light, but it's still through an opium haze.
Virginia City
Part One: Healing
Cora appeared relaxed, half-reclining with elbows propped behind her on the polished bar, studying the room. The subtle jerking at the hem of her satin skirt was the only movement that betrayed her anxiety, all of her worry relegated to one twitching foot. The heel of her leather boot clicked over and over against the wooden leg of the barstool next to her. Without turning around, she spoke to the young man behind the bar.
"Time?"
"Twenty-five minutes, Miss Cora."
Cora thought Johnny must have made a mental mark on the clock when Trixie had gone into a room with the older businessman. She looked over the ginger-haired young Southerner. For all his apparent dimwittedness, he's quick to calculate times and numbers when it comes to whore-running.
"Good. I can't keep putting her out there, then pullin' her off the floor when she gets balky. How'd she look when they went in?" Cora's foot kept tapping as she talked.
Johnny thought a minute, looking for the right words. "She looked like she was going pretty easy. She'd been talkin' him up for a while before. Laughed a few times with Mr. Barstow before gettin' down to business." He returned to polishing the glass in his hands.
"Mr. Barstow seemed in a good mood?"
"Ain't never seen him in a bad mood, Miss Cora. 'Cept when he came here when Elijah was in charge."
Cora nodded to herself. Elijah had drawn in some new faces, but his practices had sent more of their old customers to other joints. Mr. Barstow was of the brigade that seemed to be drifting back, drawn by the recent changes. And possibly by her healing body…Mr. B had absented himself from Daisy's since Cora had not been quick enough to turn down the lamp and he had seen her bruises. He'd tipped well that night, and she'd not seen him again until Elijah was dead.
She realized she was now tapping her foot to the rhythm of the piano instead of her inner anxiety. She scanned the room from one side to the other, calm returning as she noted the orderly way things were running tonight. Liquor was flowing freely, as always, and her spot-checking of the till looked like the tallies were running true. She pulled aside one of the girls and whispered an instruction. A few minutes later, she saw two dealers switch tables with no protest from them or their players.
A satisfied smile played over her face. The signs that this was a square house again were adding up. She ran her hand over her satin skirt again, feeling the lump of her hidden purse hanging from her waist. Swearengen had his quirks, but he knew how to turn a profit with an eye towards the long run.
.
"Lookin' for some company, Miss?"
She recognized the low rumble at her ear before turning her eyes to the man beside her.
"Lookin' for a drink, and waiting on some good news, Mister," she teased.
Al smiled at the petite madam. "Johnny, two over here." He leaned up against the bar next to Cora.
"How's tonight?"
"As you see. Tables look good, liquor and pussy are doing better than last night. We're getting some of the old crowd back in, them that went elsewhere after Miss Daisy passed."
He drank and ran a finger over his moustache. "Good crowd, that's returning?"
"Yeah, freer-spending and not so quick with their fists."
He looked into his glass, pointedly looking away from the whores' rooms. "How's she doing?"
Cora looked at his profile, trying again to suss out his feelings for the blonde whore. "She's doing better. She's in with Mr. Barstow now. He's a good gent, easy with the girls. Had no use for that cocksucker Miss Daisy spawned. "
"Point in his fuckin' favor. Other girls touchy about her not takin' her turn?"
She looked away. "Them that were lucky enough to not catch Elijah's eye had sense enough to have a care for them that did. Nobody's begrudgin' her taking some time. Too busy counting their blessings."
He nodded, then straightened as the door with the "Girl In" sign opened.
An older silver-haired man in a neat waistcoat and jacket came out. He smiled and said a few words of farewell to the smiling blonde whore in the doorway before she shut the door again.
"Mr. Barstow!" Al called across the crowded, buzzing saloon.
"You have the advantage, sir." He made his way over, curious but no unease about him.
"Al Swearengen, Mr. Barstow. I'd like to buy you a drink."
Mr. Barstow looked at Cora with a raised eyebrow. At her encouraging smile, he leaned against the bar and nodded. "Appreciate that, sir. What's the occasion?"
"Just trying to get to know my clientele, as I'm runnin' things here for the time being."
"Good luck to you, then. Not that you'll need it to do better than the last one."
"So I hear. How'd that one treat you, then?" Al nodded towards the closed door.
"Trixie? She was fine." He examined Al's face, looked at Cora, then back at Al. A wary look came into the older man's clear brown eyes, then faded as Cora gave him a nod.
"She seemed a little cautious at first, but that may have been my perception, thinking on what some of the girls went through after Miss Daisy's successor took over. After we started to get to know each other, she was everything a man could ask for, from a young lady offering company."
Al smiled at the man's courtly ways. Cora had chosen well at setting him to Trixie.
"Mr. Swearengen, may I ask what the outcome would have been, had I a complaint?"
Al shrugged. "Put her to other tasks and try again another day."
Mr. Barstow nodded. "Humane, practical response." He smiled at Cora. "Good to see this place is back in proper hands." A shadow crossed over his face before he returned to his previous pleasant demeanor.
"You been a long-time customer?"
He smiled, remembering. "Indeed. I had not been here long, just barely hung out my shingle, when Daisy set up shop. I did a couple of contracts for her, my partner and I came here on many an evening…it was a good association for us both." His smile faded. "It didn't take more than one visit after her scoundrel son took over, for me and my associates to swear off Daisy's."
Cora ran a finger down his lapel. "But now you'll be spreadin' the good news, right, Mr. B?"
He held her finger lightly, stroking the top of her hand. "Absolutely. May I ask if you'll be off the floor, as madam, Cora?"
She looked up at him under lowered eyelids. "I'd consider entertaining a few special gentlemen, Mr. B. You, chief among them."
He looked over at Al. "Nothing against Trixie, Mr. Swearengen. Cora…we've been acquainted for quite some time, and I'd give her my custom as long as she'll see me."
Al raised an eyebrow. "No problem, my good man. May I ask what drew you to Trixie tonight?"
The lawyer looked down at Cora. "She asked me to." He looked back at Al. "Now, may I ask you a question, in private?"
"Over to the office, then." The two men made their way through the crowd to the back office.
.
Once the door shut, Mr. Barstow started in. "I suspect that the legality of your running this place is somewhat up in the air."
Al stood behind the oak desk. "You get right to the fuckin' point, don't you? How do you mean?"
The man ran his hand through his thick silver hair. "Forgive my abruptness. Things can move quickly in this town." He straightened. "I suspect Daisy meant to change her will prior to her passing. She had asked for an appointment before I had to go back to Philadelphia for business. I meant to meet with her upon my return, but she had already passed, with her last will standing. Thus, Elijah," he sighed.
"Elijah died intestate, with no next of kin that I know of. No one has filed for title, or new licenses. I personally think Cora will be a fine manager, but as far as I can tell, you've assumed ownership with no legal authority, which may be fine for a short period, but won't pass muster when word gets out."
"Yet no one challenges me when I deposit the contents of my till every day."
Mr. Barstow sat, adjusting his pant legs to maintain the pressed seams.
"Which may very well continue, but not forever."
"What if a will were found, leaving this joint to Cora?"
He looked puzzled. "I was Daisy Winters' lawyer, and, as I said, she died before we could meet about that."
Al leaned forward. "What if a will was found, done in her own hand, witnessed by two residents? Prepared by her in your absence, hidden by her worthless son upon her death?"
"I…it would be unlikely."
"Fuck "unlikely". Would it pass? With your endorsement?"
Mr. Barstow leaned back, suspicion lighting his eyes. "Would not such a document leave the property to you, you acting as de facto owner already? You could prove an acquaintance with Miss Daisy, I'm sure."
"I could, but that's not to my purpose. Again, would such a will be valid?"
"Is it in her handwriting, recognizable by someone who knew her?"
"It will be in a hand you, as her attorney, will recognize as hers, unless you're a goddamn fool who doesn't care as much for Cora as you imply. If this joint goes up for grabs, you think there's any fucking chance Cora will be able to hang on to it, this comes to the big money's attention?"
"I see," he sighed. "I find the definitions of right and wrong shift, the further I get from Philadelphia. Or maybe…I'm just getting old."
"I would hope some wisdom is coming along with age."
Mr. Barstow stood. "I hope so, as well, Mr. Swearengen. Cora will give you directions to my office. Bring whatever written will you find first thing tomorrow." He opened the door, then turned. "Just…make sure, at least, that the ink is dry."
.
A few minutes later, Al called a brusque "Yeah!" to a soft knock on the door.
"What was all that?" Trixie slipped into the office.
Al paused before speaking, carefully looking over his girl. Her visible bruises were gone, her arms bare and her chest showing down to her nipples. She had given the fripperies she had worn to Dolly, dressing for the evening's work in a white cotton petticoat and tan brocade corset. Her shawl, thrown over one shoulder in the heated saloon, was crocheted in shades of cream and tan. Her red stockings were the sole splash of color in her garments, keeping her from looking like a half-dressed innocent.
"She speaks! She shows curiosity!" He looked up at her, mouth between smile and smirk.
"Fuck you, Al. Guy goes from my pussy to your ear, I wonder what's going on, is all."
"No worries, Trixie. He gave you a favorable report. Sounds like you're back in play."
She pulled a cigarette from her bodice, holding her hand out for a match. He struck one from the box on the desk and held it out to her. She held his hand steady and lit up, taking a deep drag.
"He was a nice guy. Cora said he'd be mindful of my injuries."
"You blow him, or give him a ride?"
She tapped the ashes off the end of her smoke. "Both. It ending with fucking, as I imagine that's your main fuckin' question."
He looked relieved. "So…you okay? Everything back in workin' order, on your end?"
She looked at the tip of her cigarette. "I find myself wondering why you don't already know that, given that I'm sleeping next to you every night."
"Didn't want any ill will entering into the matter, maybe givin' you the idea you're less ready than you are."
She smirked. "So, instead of fuckin' you, better I start out again with a nice guy? That your point?"
His face clouded over. "You fuckin' sound back to your old self. See if you can earn your day's keep between now and midnight, you being so fuckin' fully recovered."
She stubbed out her cigarette and stood. "Okay if I ask your boy Dan to find me some dope while I take the next one?"
"Yeah, tell him I said it was okay." He turned back towards the books that had been left a mess by Elijah.
"Oh, and Trixie?"
She paused at the door.
"Moderation, huh? I got a busy morning and I'll want my prick sucked when you get in. Don't get too fuckin' high."
She turned so he wouldn't see her fleeting sneer. "You're the boss, Al." She tugged her shawl over her other shoulder.
You're the fuckin' boss.
.
A/N: Any and all feedback, comments, and concrit very welcome!