Hello All! :) This is a story I wrote over a week during a freakish flash of my muse. Yes, it's in first person, but I find some of my best writing comes that way. Please let me know if you enjoy it! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames will be scoffed at and deleted. This story is based off of the MOVIE Tombstone, (Because Val Kilmer makes a delicious Doc Holliday ;) ) So that means I've altered any historical views on their appearance. (Because it's my fantasy, and I'll do what I want :P) So with one last note I'll leave you too it. I do NOT own Tombstone, Doc Holliday, or Wyatt Earp, I just like to play with them a bit before giving them back. (BTW I don't have a Beta, so you'll forgive any errors)

I watched sharply from atop my horse next to the stage coach. My beads jingled as we slowed to a trot and I finally looked at the town that my masters were calling home. I wore an outfit custom to my people, a sleeveless leather top that hugged my bust and tight stomach, but my shoulders and arms were bare to any clothing, holding only tattoos and a bracelet. A feather hung in my hair, and a beaded necklace wrapped around my throat. Matching earrings fell in contrast to my dark skin and hair. A holster wrapped my waist and in it a revolver and bone knife. Moccasins and leather pants were over my lower half. We reined in by an inn, and I spotted only two that looked of notice. Eyes squinted to the sun even under the wide brimmed hats but sharp, following each detail around them. I dismounted and moved to open the door to the coach. Out stepped my master and he quickly held out a hand for his daughter. She was my charge, and I escorted her everywhere. Her parasol was up and open within seconds and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I unloaded the luggage. "Have them take care of the horses." Said the master to me and I looked to the driver, another like me. "Treat the animals." He nodded and started the carriage once more, my horse now tied to the end. The master and I quickly got the bags to the rooms, before stepping out and looking around. I saw the pair of men still watching us, and felt a little unnerved. Spotting them, my master spoke up. "Gentlemen! Might I bother you for a question?" He headed their way and his daughter fallowed, I stayed silent but accompanied them, my beads clinking together as I walked. The belt I wore was made of a braided rope, the tail of which hung down to about my knee, decorated in the colors of my people. I didn't like the fact that these men seemed so interested in us, but I said nothing as my master spoke once more. "I was just curious as if you knew the whereabouts of one Behan." My sharp eyes studied both. One looked a bit pale, skin contrasting against his dark mustache and goatee, but he was dressed sharply with a vest and jacket. I could easily see an ivory handle of a revolver, but he made no move towards it. The other was a bit more well, with a thicker mustache but kind eyes, and he didn't seem armed. "Well that all depends on who's lookin' for him." Said he. "Jack Nickleson, sir, and you are?" "Wyatt Earp, and this here's my associate, Doc Holliday." The names rung no bells with my master but I tensed, frown coating my features. Both could be dangerous, both had reputations that even my people had heard of. "Splendid, splendid, this is my Daughter, Emily." "How do you do?" The woman tried for what I suppose was a sultry smile and that did pull an eye roll from me. "And..." The one called Wyatt looked to me, and I raised a brow. "Ah, that's just my daughter's escort, pay no mind, no mind." I didn't even blink at the disregard for my existence. "Well surely she must have a name." Insisted the man. "I call her Raven." Said the girl. "She doesn't really talk...so she doesn't have a name." The man tipped his hat nonetheless and I had to admit I was surprised. I nodded in return and I heard the other speak up. "I've not seen a Native used in such ways." The tone held no malice, just curiosity. "It's the cheapest labor this side of the Mississippi, my friends." Behan suddenly made an appearance and I glared. It was through Behan I had come to be as I was, a slave. Cheap? Indeed when you don't pay them. "Nickleson! Pleasure to see you again, and Miss Emily." He kissed her hand and only gave me the barest of smirks before ignoring me completely. I only shifted my weight, hands moving to cross at my chest, easily reachable to the weapons at my waist. "Come, let's give you a tour of our fine town!" He lead my group away and I bowed my head at the pair before following.

It was a few hours later during the tour that we stopped in at one saloon in particular. The Oriental. Automatically I could see that this one wasn't nearly as bad as the others. Behan decided to stop for a drink and I took up residence at the bar with my charge. It was the vision of a drunken man reaching for her hind end that had me moving, grabbing his wrist and shaking my head. I released him, and moved back to my prior position with my arms crossed, watching the bar. I found the eyes of the pair once more on us from the poker table, and quickly moved my gaze elsewhere. The sound of a gasp had me looking and spotting the dirty man a bit too close to the girl, insisting on buying her a drink. I yanked him from her and shook a finger at him as if to say 'No-no' before shoving him away. He suddenly turned and swung a fist out at me. I quickly ducked it and turned away, not intent to fight. "Raven!" Cried my charge. I turned to see the man coming at me again fist ready. I grabbed the hand and twisted it behind his back, slamming him on a nearby table. He struggled hard but I held firm, looking at my Master, who waved me off. Instantly I released him and moved back to my position. "Control your savage Nickleson." Said Behan, frowning. "Control your men. She doesn't attack without reason." Said Nickleson instantly. "Come Emily, I think we'd best retire." With one last glare to the man next to Behan, I followed obediently.