T-16 - SLASH - contains drug use & violence.

ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE. For a Few More Dollars, Occurrences & some dialogue between Mortimer & The Man With No Name.

Pairing: {The Man With No Name/Douglas Mortimer}

Vagabond:

1. $10,000 Distraction

As Colonel Mortimer expected, he leaned against the bar, the three suspiciously kind -if not trigger happy- banditos-looking men were scheming like coyotes on a herd. Especially that big one whom he might have recognized on one of them bounty posters, the man was most likely Niño, a member of Indio's gang of ruffians. Before taking another hard puff, he said over the countertop to the tense bartender, "Whiskey." "Listen, mister, why do you choose my place to commit suicide?" the old man said in surprisingly perfect enunciation, Mortimer took no mind but did add his breath to the hovering cloud of cigar smoke in the saloon, the bartender nodded his grayed head to the direction of the entrance, "I know that man. It's a miracle you're alive."

"Why should a man walk around with a pistol and let himself be insulted?" Mortimer waved his pipe to the passed gang as the old man turned around with a fresh glass and bottle in hand. The black-suited gentleman inquired with his eyes still trained on the doorway, "It's mighty strange."

"Well, sir…if the hunchback didn't shoot you…" the old man began while nervously twisting the oblong glass neck on the whiskey bottle, "He had a very, very important reason, that's all."

Mortimer took another quick puff before lifting his full glass for a drink, "I was thinking that myself."

Not long after his first sip, he connected the strange chain of events first from Indio's escape, and then to this meeting between him, Niño and a pair of Indio's men, then to the near insignificant action following his disrespect to the hunchback. With all those odd occurrences connecting themselves, especially in El Paso, which has the near $500,000 on hand, who did he know was not crazy enough to not take his chances on that bank? Ah. 'Indio, of course…'

Mortimer went back up to his room where the view of the bank was of good vantage. Not an hour later, five men emerged from the bank, while one armed was locked in and three guard men of the Bank of El Paso took to foot and patrolled around the building. He began counting the seconds it took for the men to have made a full round, "1, 2, 3..."

"27, 28, 29," the men turned the last corner, Mortimer lifted his spyglass a little higher and kept on queue, "30, 31, 32, and 33."

Angling the glass to a couple of hitching posts, he saw Niño nodding to another far off object, he shifted the piece a little to the left to Groggy who was analyzing a boot then nodded with cigar in hand to none other than the hunchback.

He lifted the glass again as they all regrouped at an occupied hitching post, and with less a ruckus than their presence suggested, and quietly rode out of El Paso. Mortimer grinned inwardly, finally understanding Indio's plan to rob the El Paso Bank. Simple complexity he figured, a leisure puff and bit of straightening out the bend in his elbow, he shrugged and pointed the spyglass to several somewhat mildly amusing areas about town. First to the single avenue connecting both the northern dry montane and the deserts spreading all through the south; only a few deputies, locals and children populated among the noontime street life. Nothing else in the saloons, no fights, nothing but the extraordinarily mundane activities of yesterday repeating itself in a less orderly fashion. All while humming, he scanned the horizons for open curtains containing naked newlyweds or screaming whores only to find not a single window open.

Mortimer had his fill of offensive privacy before his glass halted on a pair of binoculars staring right into his glass, or window, wherever but in His general direction. He whipped his spyglass down with a grunt, then ground his teeth on the ivory pipe, he lifted his begrudging right hand to steady his magnified vision. The eyes kept staring back, though vague and darkened by shadowed glass, they seemed to mock and challenge him. He lowered the piece, after a moment or two across the street on the third floor, the stranger smiled. Ruddy cheeked, cigar tucked between his teeth, and blue eyes carried a subtle hint of mischief and humor, Mortimer angrily drew the thin lace curtains in case the stranger could see how both embarrassed and bashful he became.

…you can NOT deny how sexy Clint Eastwood's smile was! i just about kissed the screen before realizing his slash-potential! Don't get me wrong, but there's no slash pairings in the Sergio Leone films, so i wanted to do my Best at bringing them to light. But so far, it's been only many films featuring Eastwood that i've been able to write. Yea, yea, been sitting on it for a year, & it's finally wanting Out. AN2: Dialogue is from the movie, but not my personal touches at the end. AN3: I'M NOT DISRESPECTING CLINT EASTWOOD & HIS WORKS! IT'S GENETIC THAT I'M BOTH A PERV & ATTRACTED TO THIS WONDERFUL ACTOR. …& others, too. hee-hee~!

P.S.- if you were wondering why this fic is rated M17, it's due to violence, gore, & language. I have to keep it SuPeR Soft Core for fanfictionNET. The full-blown sex will be on adultfanfictionCOM because my account will get compromised by some kiddies who had enough of the Brokeback boys. ROFL! .o(^u^')o.