Disclaimer: Justified ain't mine. Sadly. Comments welcome.
Author Note:This was written for norgbelulah's excellent Summer In Harlan fic meme at LiveJournal. The prompt for this story was: Ava/Boyd - A Kodiak. So sweet, it may give you toothache.
Fairground Attraction
The summer season brings the fair to Harlan County and they go, not because there is any real desire but because it's summer and it's the fair and it's what people do.
Ava has no interest in the horse parade, or looking at livestock or the Demolition Derby, but she does like the carnival. One year she'd had her fortune told by a woman who'd called herself a gypsy and whose thick Georgia accent didn't fool anyone. She'd told Ava that someone close to her was going to take on a new role in her life. Back then she had rolled her eyes and laughed; now she glances at the man walking next to her and smiles to herself.
They watch the fireworks, sparks of red and gold against the velvet blue. It's a perfect night, clear skies, and a breeze coming down off the mountains to take the edge off the heat. But she still appreciates the warmth of his body when she rests against him, his arm around her shoulders, while they watch the display.
They wander around the stalls like the childhood-sweethearts they never were.
Ava doesn't play the game of what-might-have-been anymore, doesn't pretend all the years in between never happened. They happened, all of it, and that accumulation has brought them to this - and now, and for some time before and for as long as she can see into the future, she wouldn't have it any other way.
Just about everyone they have ever known in Harlan is there. They spend more time answering the people who call out to them, the ones who stop to catch-up (gossip), than they do on the rides.
But still they find time for the ghost train and for looking at their reflections in distorting mirrors and when they stumble into the tent with the hay bales for benches and the bluegrass band, he whirls her around the floor and as always she can't keep up, but she holds on tight and laughs and watches the foxfire dance of his eyes.
They walk through the crowds and she becomes aware of the way people look at them; rather, the way they look at Boyd. Not fearful - though some do look uneasy - but with most as though in awe. He doesn't demand respect but he does command it. She is pleased with herself for thinking of it in those terms. Harlan is Crowder territory and he is taking it back bit by bit; although, for the most part people seem willing to let him. A lot of them almost seem relieved.
But that isn't what it's about tonight. Tonight is not business, not deal-making, not reining-in the chaos.
Tonight is the tooth-aching sweetness of cotton-candy and riding the Scrambler until she's dizzy and he needs to keep his arm around her waist to keep her walking straight, which he probably enjoys as much as she does.
The shooting booth is run by an old-timer in an ill-fitting army-surplus jacket and Vietnam tattoos.
She cheers each time he takes a shot and he wins her a teddy-bear, presenting it to her with a flourish. Small, fluffy, with a whimsical expression.
'He ain't no grizzly but he sure is cute,' she says.
'What are you talking about? This here is a Kodiak. Don't you listen to her,' he says to the bear.
She laughs; anything less fearsome she has yet to see. It's not even the size of a grizzly's paw and certainly has none of its power. A bear among bears. Commanding. She tucks her new possession under one arm and leans against him, one hand curling around the lapel of his jacket. The steady beat of his heart thrums against the backs of her fingers.
'You think I don't know a Kodiak when I see one?'
He smiles then, his hands bracketing her waist. 'Well, Ava, I do always say, if you're going to be a bear...'
Oblivious to the passers-by they stand, arms around each other, kissing like the lovers they are.