A/N: The hubby and I have been 9:00 pm Sunday night HBO people since the Sopranos. Among my favorite shows are Boardwalk Empire and True Blood. I decided to combine the two. Obviously, totally AU. Rated M for language, violence, sexual situations...all the good stuff. Hope you enjoy. Please review. I always appreciate honest opinions and constructive criticism.

(Please bear with me. It'll take a little while for this to all come together.)

(Also, major artistic license has been taking with both the Board Empire and True Blood angles.)

Shooter & Shifter

Chapter 1

"Guard the warehouse," Jimmy had said. So, here Richard was, guarding the warehouse. It was quiet this evening, the air taking on the crisp scent of the approaching autumn. It would turn cold soon, snow would come and coat the city in a seemingly pristine blanket. But like so much in life, it would only be a facade. Richard knew you could sometimes cover the ugly truths and harsh realities, but usually, people could guess what was under the surface, even if they couldn't really see it.

An hour passed, and then another, and the only sounds he heard were the wind moving through the trees, and the occasional branch creaking. Feeling a little hungry, he reached into his bag and pulled out the light meal Angela Darmody had put together for him. She understood that he was still uncomfortable eating in front of people, and so when her husband gave him late night assignments that had him sitting alone for hours in the dark, she made a point to pack something for him. Tonight it was thin slices of roast, and some of her homemade biscuits. Richard loved Angela's biscuits. They were always so fluffy, they were easy for him to chew, and there was something about their flavor that took him back to Sundays in his youth, when his grandma would make lunch after church.

Richard bit off a small piece of biscuit and moved it to the right side of his mouth, chewing carefully. This was something that he doubt would ever get any easier with time. He had the hang of it, yes. He would have starved to death by now if he hadn't. But he was a personally neat man, and knowing that crumbs could and did shower from his mouth at every opportunity didn't sit well with him.

But, such was life in the big city, as him mom used to say when she had to deal with something that she couldn't change.

He wiped the biscuit crumbs away with his handkerchief, then took a small bite of roast. It was a little tough since it was cold, but it was nicely seasoned. Jimmy was lucky to have Angela, Richard thought for what was probably the millionth time.

He ate slowly, but his senses, trained by the army to make him an expert marksman, were completely tuned to his surroundings. A slight noise came from the back of the warehouse. Anyone else might not have noticed it. But Richard, who had once spent three days sitting stock still in a blind waiting for a German sniper to make one small mistake, heard it instantly.

Silently, he stood up from the crate he had been sitting on, took his gun and started towards the back of the warehouse. He heard the noise again; it was a very faint rasping sound. Quietly Richard crept forward, gun held in front of him, straining his hearing for the slightest sound. Right now, he truly wished for both his eyes. He often did, but it was times like this when it would be very beneficial to not have a total blind spot on his left.

He moved through the stacks of crates. Most of them were going to be shipped out tomorrow, Richard was here tonight to make sure no one got any bright ideas, like trying to load the crates and cart them off early. Jimmy said the word was out that Richard was the one on guard tonight, and, according to Jimmy, Richard's reputation as a crack marksman with absolutely no mercy had spread far and wide, so it was highly unlikely that anyone would try anything. But Richard knew that sometimes, bravado and ego tended trump common sense. Richard didn't know if he truly lived up to the stories that were apparently being told about him. Of course, he wasn't entirely sure of what the stories were. He did know what he had done, and he could easily admit that he was emotionally detached from life when it came down to him versus 'them'. He had been trained to kill. It had been instilled in him that if he did not get the target, the target would get him, or all that he held dear. There was a part of him that knew this wasn't quite right. That there was an alternative. But that part of him was still a young boy who had never even kissed a girl, who had only seen the world through newspapers and novels, who didn't know what a 'kaiser' was, or what the accuracy of an Enfield sniper rifle was down to a meter. That boy was long ago and far away. Richard had seen too much to be surprised by anything anymore.

He reached the very back of the warehouse. It was dark, and silent. He closed his eye and strained his ears. Nothing. He opened his eye back up and slowly scanned the area, peering as hard as he could into the deepest shadows. If he didn't spot anything, he would need to navigate the narrow alleys between crates. So while he looked, he tried to decide his best course.

Seeing nothing, he moved to his right, intending on searching that row first. He advanced slowly, gun still held before him, his remaining eye moving from side to side as he made his way forward. He made nearly no sound as he moved. Training had kicked in.

There was nothing down the first aisle, nor the second. It was as he made his way back up the third aisle that something happened. He was nearly back to the main aisle when there was a sudden movement at eye level toward his left, barely glipsed through his right eye. He spun as quickly as he could, which was just a fraction slower than it would have been had the movement been to the right. As it was, it was just long enough for him to realize what had just jumped on to the crate for him to not pull the trigger. Damn fucking missing eye he mentally cursed. If that had been one of Van Alden's men, I would be dead right now.

'Mew?'

A cat sat on top of the crate, staring inquisitively at Richard. He lowered the gun and glowered at the cat. The cat, for it's part, blinked nonchalantly at Richard, picked up it's front paw, licked it, and gave it's ear a quick cleaning.

"Mmm. I. Don't really. Like cats."

The cat lowered it's paw and stared at him as if to say 'Why ever not?'

Richard looked down at the gun in his hand, then back at the cat. He REALLY didn't like them. When he was five his sister's cat, Buttons, decided to claw the everliving daylights out of the left side of his face. There was probably some small bit of irony that the same side of the face the cat took after was the same side of the face that was now missing thanks to that damn German son of a bitch. Of course, Richard REALLY didn't like damn German sons of bitches, either.

Well, he had gotten that damn German son of a bitch, and he was going to get this damn cat, too. He raised his gun and aimed it directly at the cat, who leaned toward the muzzle and sniffed at it, going cross-eyed in the process. Then, as if to prove that it feared Richard in no way, shape or form, the cat rubbed the side of its face against the muzzle, purring loudly all the while.

Dumbfounded, Richard lowered his hand until it was resting on the box and just stared at the cat.

'Mew?'

'Mmm. Mew you," Richard replied. The cat bobbed it's head quickly, like Richard had just uttered the most sage words in cat history. It then lowered its head to sniff the edge of the box. After a quick investigation, the cat rubbed its cheeks and chin against the edge. Richard immediately identified that as the sound that had brought him back here in the first place.

"Mmm. Damn cat," he grumbled and went back to the spot near the front of the warehouse that he'd chosen to spend his vigil. He settled back down, gun in easy reach, and went back to his dinner. He had made himself comfortable, his back was leaning against a slightly taller stack of crates, he had one foot up on the crate next to him. A small snippet of a thought came to him, he had been meaning to ask Jimmy about something but he couldn't remember what that something was. He tried to follow his train of thought around to see if he could remember what it was he was supposed to ask, and he forgot about the fact that he had a small bit of roast in his hand. At least, he forgot about it until he felt something press on his thigh, then something start to pull down on the hand with the roast in it.

He looked down and saw the cat, who was trying its hardest to get Richard's fingers down just a little lower so it could get its teeth around the meat.

"What. mm. Do you think. You're doing, you. Damn cat?"

The cat looked away from the roast and up at Richard. 'Mew?'

Richard wasn't sure if a cat was capable of giving puppy-eyes, but that was pretty much what this cat was doing. Her, (he didn't know why, but he was suddenly convinced it was a female cat) eyes were very wide and pathetic looking, and her ears had a 'woe-is-me' droop to them. Her paw curled a little tighter on Richard's hand as she tried once again to get the meat to her mouth. She gave another little 'mew', and Richard lowered his fingers. She sniffed at the morsel of beef, then gently bit into it. Richard released it, and she settled down on her feet to eat it, making short work of it and looking back at Richard expectantly. Richard gazed back at the cat, sighed, and tore off another bit of meat to toss down to the cat. He offered her a bite of biscuit as well, but she wasn't as taken with them as he was. She did love the roast though.

"All gone, mm." Richard said finally, holding out his empty hands. She sniffed at them, then licked the grease from his fingertips. When she was done cleaning Richard's hands, she wiped her muzzle down with her paw. Once she was done with her ablutions, she hopped up onto the crate next to Richard and curled up against his thigh.

Obviously the rumors of my deadly reputation haven't reached the feline community, he thought as the cat closed her eyes and began purring. Anytime Richard moved his leg, the cat would shift so she would remain pressed against him. He thought she was asleep, but he did notice that one ear or the other would often twist at the slightest sound. So when both of her ears swiveled forward, and her eyes opened to stare intently at the front door, Richard also went on alert.

He stood up and held his gun at he ready. The cat hopped down onto the floor and slunk up towards the door, quickly but silently. Richard followed a little more slowly but nearly just as silent. He heard a car driving up, saw the headlights bobbing through the window. The car stopped, the headlights went dark, and the creak of the door opening could be heard. There were two sets of footsteps on the gravel outside. One of them was slightly uneven... must be Jimmy. But what would he be doing here at this hour?

The front door slid open, the loud rumble disturbing the peaceful night.

"Richard?" Jimmy called, silhouetted against the door. "It Jimmy. I've got Eli with me."

Richard gave a grunt of acknowledgment and stepped forward from the shadows. Eli Thompson stepped past Jimmy and into the warehouse. He looked around suspiciously, then cast Richard a quick, dark look.

"Deputy Halloran was patrolling around earlier and said he saw someone sneaking through the woods towards the warehouse," Eli said. "Have you seen anyone, Harrow?" Richard shook his head, and explained to Jimmy and Eli that it had been quiet all evening. Eli looked like he didn't believe Richard.

"If Richard had seen anyone," Jimmy said, "I'm pretty sure they'd be dead right now." Harsh, but true. That was just Richard.

Eli glared at Jimmy, too. Jimmy, who Nucky had been grooming to take his place. That didn't sit well with Eli. It should have been Eli who was learning the ropes from Nucky, not this ungrateful bastard. Eli gave a small snarl and stomped around the warehouse, looking for what, Jimmy and Richard had no idea. Jimmy moved to stand beside Richard and said in a quite voice "Eli thinks we're hiding something from him, like maybe we're going to turn on Nucky or something." Richard shrugged. He didn't really care what was going on inside Eli's head. "Anyway," Jimmy continued. "He's going to finish inspecting the warehouse, then I'll try to get him out of here."

Eli inspected the warehouse, looking for something out of place. He didn't see anything, but he was certain that Darmody and the half-faced killer were hiding something. He could hear Jimmy saying something, probably plotting against Nucky. Or even more likely, planning to kill Eli where he stood. That must be it. Harrow had no qualms about murder...everyone knew that. And Darmody had to see Eli as an obstacle in his path to follow Nucky. It all made sense...knock off Eli, have unlimited access to Nucky, then when the time was right, kill off the older Thompson brother, too, and take over the entire operation.

"Over my dead body," Eli mumbled as he pulled out his revolver and slowly made his way back to where Jimmy and Richard were conspiring against Nucky. He'd show them that you didn't mess with Ethan Thompson's boys and get away with it.

Eli peered around a stack of crates at the two war veterans, who were standing near each other talking softly. He would have to shoot Harrow first. And it would have to be a fatal shot. Eli knew he was no match for Harrow in a shoot-out. So he carefully took aim, setting his sights on a spot just above the ear piece of the glasses that Harrow wore to keep his tin mask in place. Slowly, Eli cocked the gun, made a minute adjustment in his aim, prepared to squeeze the trigger...

There was a growl from behind him. It was loud enough that Jimmy and Richard both quickly looked his way. Eli rapidly spun around and aimed down the dark aisle behind him. The was movement in the darkness, something large coming towards him, growling all the while. In a matter of moments it was far enough into the light to see it was a large tiger, easily 8 feet long, five inch fangs exposed in a snarl.

Eli backed away, slowly at first, then he turned and fled out the door as fast as he could run. The tiger darted after him, paws churning up the gravel and dirt outside as she rounded the corner and attempted to gain on the fleeing sheriff.

Jimmy pulled his gun and made to give chase, but Richard grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Richard, there is a tiger chasing Eli," Jimmy stated, even though he was certain Richard knew this.

"Yes."

"That tiger is probably going to eat Eli if he catches him."

"Mm. Eli was. Planning on shooting us," Richard said. "If the tiger. mm. Doesn't get Eli, one of us. Will have to." That made Jimmy pause. He thought about telling Nucky that he had shot Eli, imagined Nucky's none-too-pleasant reaction to this news, and decided he didn't want to ever have that conversation.

"Was the tiger here the entire night?" Jimmy asked.

"Mm. Don't think so. There is a small. Cat around here. But I. mm. Haven't seen her since. You and Eli mm. Pulled up. mm. I shared dinner with her. She didn't, mm. Like the biscuits much, but she. mm. Enjoyed the roast."

"I didn't know you liked cats, Richard."

"I don't," Harrow replied.

Jimmy didn't know what to say so he kept his mouth shut. There were no sounds from outside besides the wind. He wondered what happened to Eli.