The vibrations and roar of the Harley beneath him was starting to numb his body. The ride itself was extremely long and hard on him, it didn't help that his mind was miles away along with his heart. War was at his borders. He could feel the enemy readying to advance into his lines, but he knew Matthew would hold them off. He trusted the Canadian enough for that. He would've stayed longer in battle but getting that message about...he shook his head of the thought. He was going to keep his head high about this, no negativity. She'd kick his ass if he did. Looking back at that day, he was happy he went into that club that night.

Nine months earlier...

The heavy base could be felt outside the doors. This really wasn't his atmosphere, he like to go to clubs for parties and such but a strip joint wasn't his thing. Might have to blame Arthur for that one, the man was known to be wild in his pirate and punk days but the one thing he taught Alfred was to be a gentleman towards women, including the ones that worked the streets.

"Come on Jonesy, where's your sense of fun?" the young recruit asked him.

"Not really my thing." he replied, digging his hands deeper in his pocket.

"What, gotta girl on your arm or does your boat float the other river?" he poked.

"Haha, you're funny." Alfred said.

He followed the young man into the loud club, blinded by the smoky atmosphere, hoping he wouldn't be here long. The recruit took off for the open seats near the pole, attempting to drag him along; Alfred on the other hand headed for the bar.

"Might as well drown out some hours with booze." He said, sitting on the rough barstool.

The music pounded out as multiple dancers performed their hearts out on the stage, doing whatever they could to get that dollar, not that most of the men there wouldn't throw them their life savings. It just didn't sit right with Alfred. In his mind, that wasn't the place for a woman nor how men should treat them.

"Not to your taste, sweetie?" the bartender asked.

"No, no, it's good. Just lost in thought." he said, jerking his thumb to the recruit, "Waiting for him to finish as well."

"No girl to your liking?" she questioned.

"The girls are all pretty. I just don't...I don't know how to say it and not sound sexist or anything."

"You're old fashioned huh?" she smiled, "One that likes the dotting wife figure, cooking apple pie with the kids?"

"Not fully." he said taking a swig of his beer.

"Then give me the eras and ideals and I'll point you the right girl." she said, resting her head on her hands.

Alfred wasn't sure if the woman got his point or not that he wasn't into sleeping with one, not even a lap dance was gonna fulfil him but he thought he'd humor her, "Alright. My girls has the little bit of the 40's and 50's flair. The cooking and style of the era, must scream those wingtip eyes. She's gotta party like the 20's flapper, never knowing when she's gonna get caught in the speakeasy. Her soul must be free like the 60's and 70's, you know that groovy way. She also must be reserved and know when the argument is good like the colonial and revolutionary women of the early American years, standing strong by her man all the way. Finally, yet the most important piece of all, her spirit must be as free as the Native American ways. Nothing can stop it from soaring to the heights it desires. That is the woman for me."

The woman stared at him wide-eyed, shocked he put so much thought into it. Alfred knew his type of girl would be difficult to find. Most of the women he ever had were long gone and most todays were far out of his reach. "So, dear bartender, where is she?"

A smile crept onto her face, looking over Alfred's shoulder and pointing to the stage, "There. Indie Flower."

Now it was his turn to be shocked, he wasn't expecting her to even point anyone out. Finally turning around, he glanced behind him to the stage to see the woman she pointed out. She sauntered on the stage, her outfit leaving little for the imagination yet he was smitten. Her tanned skin glistened against the lights, her curves just perfect in his mind. Lengthy slender legs graced that body as she spun on the pole, arching her torso towards the hungry wolves in the crowd. Her long ebony hair swayed to the music as she continued her routine.

"That is the girl you described. And if I were you, I'd show her a hell of a time. Most aren't too nice to her."

"Why not?" Alfred demanded, "She's pretty."

At that moment, a glass flew onto the stage, missing her by inches. She just watched as the object landed in pieces on the other half, just missing the other dancer. Her face unamused, like she was used to it.

"Squaw!" the men laughed. "What now little feather, gonna scalp us?"

Standing back up, she left the stage, not glancing back at the men as they laughed within their drunken stupors. Alfred's anger boiled, he hated those terms. Deep within, he hated himself for letting the American people nearly wipe-out the Native Americans, without them, America wouldn't be what it was now.

"I want to talk one on one with Indie Flower." he said giving the woman the cash in his pocket.

"Damn, you're serious." she said counting the bills.

"Twenty-five percent is yours, the rest is hers." he said making his way to the door.

"Shit, you're determined now huh?"

'You have no idea."

"Are you kidding me Jonesy?" the recruit asked as Alfred pulled the Harley from the trailer, "I gotta have you at the barracks by noon man. We can't be lollygagging."

"Aren't you quietly planning on taking that red-head to the hotel for a quick night?"

The soldier was caught off guard, "Y-you...have no... proof."

Alfred just stared at him, he knew his plans the whole time, "Oh come on Jonesy, not like you're not getting your dick wet."

"That there is the difference, I'm not."

"Then why get the girl?" he asked him.

Starting the Harley up, Alfred thought of the reason, "To show her not all guys are like those dicks in there."

With a wave of his hands, the recruit went back inside to grab his late-night thrill. Alfred waited, wondering if he did the right thing. The North Dakota evening was slowly settling into the cooling land, the skies slowly being painted its magnificent colors.

"I'm guessing you're the guy Twyla told me about." he heard someone say.

Turning around, he saw her standing there. Short jean shorts, black tank hidden under a tan button up. Her hair in a loose pony tail, a feather gracing the left side of her hair.

"That I am." he said turning the engine, "If you're willing to go, I'll show you a night."

"There's a hotel right there sweetie."

Alfred laughed, "No, no. Not for that. I'm not asking sex or anything else really. Just a moment of your time."

"You know most would consider this dangerous?" she said, crossing her arms.

"True, but I hold no danger. I'll take you on a small ride, stop at the diner down the way, have a nice meal and chat. And before you know it, you'll be back here."

He could see her questioning everything he said, wondering if it was worth her time. "If it doesn't work for you, you'll never have to see me again."

With a sigh, she made her way over to the purring bike, getting on and hanging tight to his sides. "You give me any reason to stab or mace you, I won't hesitate."

"You won't have any reason to." he said, kicking off as the bike rolled along the ground.

The bike rode smoothly under the growing evening light as he made his way down toward the diner. He just prayed that everything else would go just as smooth once he got there.

Her laughter filled the diner along with his as he went down the old tales he could muster up for her.

"To this day, Gil avoids her like the black plague." he chuckled out as he nibbled a fry.

"Oh, my god, it was good. Very good really. Haven't laughed like that in a long time." she said, holding her side, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The two of them finally calmed down enough to finish off the fries he ordered, watching as strangers floated in and out.

"To be honest I was a little afraid of coming out like this." she said, "A lot of bad shit happens to people, especially girls like me. We'll even worse for me."

"Why's that?" he asked.

"You in the club earlier during my act?" she asked.

Ah now he knew, "You mean those worthless pricks that no nothing of a woman when they see one?"

"Damn." she said wide-eyed.

"Sorry. Just raised old fashioned."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you call me squaw too?"

"Please don't call yourself that. It's demeaning." he explained, "I don't care what color your skin is, if you are good to me I'm good to you. There is no religion or color that I don't accept fully into me. You are just as human as I am."

She stared at him, "Wow, you really are a piece like Twyla said."

"How so?"

"She explained what you said about what you want in a woman and your reaction when she pointed me out."

"Must've been one hell of a story huh?"

"Definitely will be when I go back."

Alfred's heart hung low in his chest with that. He really didn't want her going back to that place, to be ridiculed for her background. He wanted to take her home and show her how a real woman was to be treated, holy fuck he was starting to sound like Arthur. The salty sap would have a field day with him.

"You ok in there?" she said, breaking his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh yea, just thinking. Better get you back, early day tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nah, day off." she said, slipping her button up back on, "I will admit I had a wonderful time with you Jonesy."

"Alfred, please."

"Alfred." she hummed, "Thank you Alfred."

Yep, he wanted to kiss those lips that called his name. No doubt about it. "You're welcome Indie."

"No."

"No?"

"No," she said, smiling at him, "You and you alone can call me by my first name. Just because I'd like to see you again."

"And that would be?" he asked, hope filling his very being.

"Amber."