Disclaimer: I do not own Gunsmoke or any of the characters herein.
Note: This was from a prompt given to be my aubreyisvelma of tumblr.
. . .
A stray wind blew through the stormy night, disturbing the signs on Main Street. Rain still fell in pockets, first lightly then heavily. A thick coating of mud along the boardwalk muffled the perpetual jingle of Festus' spurs. He was soaked to the bone and exhausted from his long journey into the desert in search of water.
Main Street was bereft of people. Everyone was tucked up safe and sound in their beds. By Festus' reckoning, Matt finished his nightly door check hours ago. Every light was out, giving the illusion of a ghost town. There was one port in this storm—the light above the double doors of the Long Branch swung lightly in the breeze.
Festus stumbled through the familiar doors and slumped into his favorite chair. He leaned heavily on the table, laying his head on his hands. The chair next to his scraped. A glass clinked down and the smell of whiskey filled his nostrils.
"This'll help."
"If it's all the same, Miss Kitty, I'd rather have me s'm coffee."
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Comin' right up."
After a few minutes, the smell of hot coffee filled the Long Branch. Festus raised his head and rubbed his face. Miss Kitty appeared with two cups. She sat in the chair next to him and not-so-subtly poured a shot of whiskey into his cup.
"For the cold," she smiled.
"Thank y' kindly, Miss Kitty," he gulped the hot liquid. "It puts the fire back in m' belly."
"So," she leaned back in her chair. "How far did you get before the rain?"
He shook his head and took another swig. "I don't rightly know. It weren't far, I reckon. I was too weak t' go very far."
She placed her hand lightly on the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair. "That's all right. You tried and that's all anyone can ask of a man."
Festus leaned forward and took her free hand in his. "Aw fiddle, Miss Kitty, I know that! But… I wish I coulda' done more."
"Well you didn't need to. The rain went and did your job for you! You've done more than most men could—or even would," she took her hand from his head and stroked his cheek. "And you're luckier than most men. You can always come to me for coffee and sympathy."
He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I reckon I could do with a bit more sympathy."
Kitty grinned and kissed his cheek. "Then it's a good thing I'm in a sympathetic mood."