I've been meaning to finish this for ages. I do not own Jake or Adina. This scene takes place during my friend Taylor's story Awake and Alive. She's an amazing writer and artist. If you haven't read Awake and Alive, you really should. I do not own Rango and such either.

"So….does that mean you'll do it?"

"Maybe. Even though it means helpin' you pathetic lot. Got nothin' more excitin' to do fer the time bein', anyway"

As the boiling heat from the setting sun warmed his scales, the same conversation continued to play over and over in a loop in the back of his mind. He could still see that damned Sheriff's look of excitement, and beyond that the warm and lithe body trapped within his coils as he yanked it clear of the old mill. A chance meeting, well, a second, chance meeting had somehow brought them together again. And the same continued over and over until he found himself wanting her in his coils and his coils alone. Anyone else wasn't to lay a damned scale or feather on her. If they did, they'd soon regret it.

With eyes of fire and brimstone, he turned away from the setting sun; thoughts of the Sheriff were shoved away to the back of his mind as he turned his soul focus onto the Black Racer that had come to hover about his thoughts more than he'd care to admit. He'd take his own soul to hell before he'd ever claim to fawning over her. However, she was a thought he hadn't a problem returning to.

On their first meeting, he hadn't thought much of her. A stranger. One that wouldn't last long. One he hadn't minded considering for a meal beyond simple roasted crickets. His eyes flicked back to his gatling gun, a mild smirk slipping onto his maw as he recalled the bullet he had shot just by her head in warning. She had learned well that first night, something's aren't as they appear, and not necessarily in a good manner.

As his scales slipped over the cooling desert sand and the town became sharper and sharper in his sight, his thoughts continued to mull over the Black Racer and all he knew of her. Though a very gentle and sweet female, she, like all others, had their own dark secrets; and hers were still continuing to haunt her. Search for her to bring her daring actions to, justice. The very notion that what she had done being considered a 'crime' left a foul taste in his mouth, his tongue flicking in and out in a manner of disgust. Through all his years as the grim reaper, and even beyond the title, his greatest hate was liars. Flaunting and twisting the truth to save their own damned skin. His burning eyes narrowed and his fangs shifted irritably in his jaws. When he had heard of the new Sheriff's "accomplishments", there had been a shred of growing respect before it was torn away by the anger and hatred of the growing lies that forced his scales on end.

Though he hated liars, he had grown to hate whatever dared threatened her. She may have gone against the odds to defeat another to protect someone dear to her, but she could do nothing to protect herself. Already he had nearly taken a pathetic soul for harming her, but she herself stopped him. Even as his anger boiled and his fangs ached to be sunk into the Gila, he had released him with simmering fury. Had it not been for her, there would have been nothing left of the large lizard.

As he made his way towards his, temporary, quarters, the sounds of laughter and music made him scowl, and a low rumble rose from his chest. With all the noise filling the two, any notion of sleep that had been drawing up was quickly quelled. Not with all those damned fools and their, 'party'.

Preferring to keep away from the whimpering townsfolk and their giddy socializing, he began to make his way back out into the desert before a flash of dark scales caught his attention. Remaining still, his fiery eyes followed the long, lithe figure as she shifted away from the food to an alley out of the way of the others, her tail moving to the beat. A smirk formed on his lips and a silent chuckle echoed his equally silent movement as he began gliding towards her. She remained oblivious to him. At least, until he spoke.

"Bunch'a lovestruck fools if ya ask me."