This idea has been lurking in my subconscious for quite a while due to the numerous references to Gene as the Sheriff and his fixation with Westerns. That fancy dress costume in Ashes just added fuel to the fire!

I'm not aiming for over much in the way of historical accuracy seeing as I'm no expert, but hopefully any defects won't detract from the story too much. I know it's a bit different so I'd love to hear what people think …

xxxxxx

Alex, Get Your Gun

Chapter 1

Unconsciousness gradually gave way to sensation as Alex Drake began to come round, her eyelids fluttering open as the blackness began to recede. Everything was still a blur as she struggled to sit up, her head throbbing painfully, and she instinctively wrinkled her nose up as the scent of sweaty animal and fresh dung assaulted her nostrils. One hand moved slowly up to touch her temple expecting to find the stickiness of blood there, and she was genuinely surprised when her fingers came away clean.

Furrowing her brow she tried to ignore the stabbing pain behind her eyes and focus her mind. Warmth. Fresh straw. The occasional whinnying and stamping of horses somewhere off to her right. Using the walls of the wooden stall as a support, she heaved herself carefully to her feet, swaying unsteadily for a couple of seconds and clinging on until the world came back into focus again.

As she glanced down at herself her eyes widened in shock. What on God's earth was she wearing? The dress was short, the tight low-cut bodice tapering down to a frilly flounced skirt, and even worse, it was an eye-popping confection of scarlet and black. Long lacy gloves, fishnets and ankle boots completed the ensemble. Jesus, she looked like she'd escaped from a Wild West saloon. Either she was presently involved in the world's strangest undercover operation or it must have been one hell of a party.

Cautiously she peered around the end of the stall, narrowing her eyes at the bright sunlight shafting in through the large double doors at one end of the building. Thoroughly confused and disorientated she tottered forwards on her heels, aware of a raging thirst and a feeling of light-headedness as hunger pangs gnawed at her empty stomach.

"Well, lookie here. And who might you be, darlin'?"

She spun round at the sound of a low, lust-filled male voice, her heart pounding, her eyes widening in apprehension as she looked him up and down. Whatever she was involved in, the costumes were impressively authentic, she had to admit. The man was doing a more than passable impression of a bona fide cowboy but the evil leer on his unshaven pock-marked face hardly inspired confidence.

"So, young Jimmy got lucky last night, did he? Got any left for me, then?"

Before she had time to react he'd dragged her against him, one grimy hand pawing at her while he attempted to stick his tongue down her throat. He smelled of stale sweat and horseflesh and she fought hard to push him away, managing to slam a knee into his groin and wriggle out of his grasp before making for the doorway as fast as her shaky legs would carry her.

"Slut …"

He caught her up easily and then he was on her again, his hands everywhere as she made feeble attempts to escape, pummelling his chest, her breath coming in anguished gasps.

"Bastard! Get … off … me …"

Just as he got one hand around her throat, a deep commanding voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Mackenzie, you sonofabitch. Let her go."

The man dropped her as if he'd been burned.

"Just having a bit of fun, Sheriff. And she's only a cheap whore, after all."

Breathing heavily, her head spinning, Alex squinted into the sun in an attempt to make out the face of her rescuer, but his features were hidden under the wide brim of his hat as he swung one long leg over his horse's back and dismounted with practised ease. Drawing himself up to his full height he practically dwarfed the other man, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck before he had time to react and pinning him up against the wall.

"Apologise to the lady, you piece of shit, or I'll tell your wife exactly what you were up to."

Mackenzie squirmed in his grasp, stammering some kind of apology, and the big man finally nodded and released him, turning to face her as her attacker stumbled gratefully away.

"Sheriff Gene S. Hunt at your service, ma'am."

He touched his Stetson respectfully and Alex found herself gazing up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Her heart began to pound as her breath caught in her throat.

"You're … Gene Hunt?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She did the only sensible thing she could under the circumstances and fainted into his arms. Gene lowered her gently to a sitting position as he glanced over at his two deputies, a little smile playing around his lips.

"Seems my reputation precedes me, boys …"

xxxxxx

Alex surfaced slowly from her swoon and decided to keep her eyes closed a little while longer. Somehow she felt safe in the circle of his arms, breathing in his distinctive masculine scent as she burrowed closer into his chest, murmuring in protest as he lifted her gently to her feet and held her away from him.

"Can you stand, ma'am?"

She nodded reluctantly, still feeling a touch light-headed.

"I think so …"

"When did you last eat?"

His brow was furrowed, his voice gruff. She shook her head to try and clear it.

"I … have no idea …"

He released her, keeping one hand under her elbow for support as he turned to the two men standing behind him.

"Deputy Carling, stable the horses while Deputy Skelton and I accompany the lady back to the saloon. And don't worry, Skelton - if there's any carrying to be done, I'll do it. Wouldn't want your fiancée getting the wrong idea now, would we?"

The younger man flashed him a relieved grin.

"Thanks, boss."

Alex blinked, looking from one to another in disbelief.

"First Hunt, now Carling and Skelton … it's just not possible. And what year is this supposed to be anyway?"

Chris rolled his eyes at Ray as he went to take her arm.

"1881 last time I checked. Think you've had a touch too much sun, ma'am. Bit of food and drink and a nice lie-down and you'll be as good as new."

Alex pulled away from him, shaking her head in protest.

"I know what it must look like, but I'm not some cheap tart. Please, you have to believe me …"

"Come on now, ma'am …"

Chris moved towards her again but she was too quick for him, grabbing his revolver from its holster and taking a swift step back, the barrel aimed squarely at the centre of his chest. Cocking the weapon, she held it defiantly in both hands, her finger hovering over the trigger. Bit different to what she was used to, but the cold steel felt good, solid, real. The deputy appeared rooted to the spot, his palms outstretched placatingly, and somewhere to her right Ray spoke, the amusement clear in his voice.

"Don't pretend you know how to handle a loaded gun, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and put it down before you hurt somebody."

Anger flared in her and she lowered the barrel slowly as though complying. And then she fired into the earth an inch or so in front of the younger deputy's boot, enjoying the satisfyingly loud report and the whine of the bullet as it ricocheted off the rock hard ground. For a long moment nobody moved or spoke, and then Ray cursed quietly under his breath.

"Sweet Jesus …"

Chris stared down at his foot as though checking it was still there and then stumbled backwards, his face pale under the tan. Only Gene seemed unmoved, eyes narrowed, lips set in a thoughtful pout, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his buckskins as he rocked back on his heels.

"Nice shot."

Alex met his gaze challengingly, hoping the trembling in her knees didn't show.

"Actually, I was aiming for his big toe …"

The glimmer of a smile crossed his face and then he spoke again, never breaking eye-contact.

"Christopher, I've got a job for you. Meanwhile, it seems this young lady and I have some things to discuss ..."

xxxxxx

There will be more if the response is good. All feedback welcome!