Authors Note: This is an alternate universe western style fic featuring John Smith and Rose Tyler plus a few other well know Doctor Who characters. Mickey Smith, Donna Noble, Jack Harkness, Sarah Jane Smith, just to name a few. It is rated M for a very good reason as later chapters contain explicit intimate scenes so not work safe or children safe. We are Australian so although our beta's have tried to pick up on our cultural mistakes there may still be a few for which we apologise
Fic is written by myself and mrs_roy from LJ and Teaspoon. Beta's Glory_Jean & oddood. Thanks ladies.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and its charcters are owned by the BBC and sadly not by me.
It was one of those days in Old Verity where the oppressive summer heat kept all but the brave or foolhardy indoors. The pretty blonde woman walking down the dusty streets would not have described herself with either of those adjectives. Ordinary might come to mind, but if the shiny star on her shirt was anything to go by then she was definitely not.
As she strode along, her spurred boots kicked up the earth and sent it sailing into the air, creating a series of dust eddies before falling back to the ground behind her; practically disguising any traces of her footsteps.
She did not stop until she had reached the swinging doors of the township's only saloon. Pushing them inwards, she entered, her brown eyes quickly taking note of fellow patrons, before she headed to an unoccupied stool at the bar.
In compliance of the saloon's few rules, the blonde discarded her hat and unbuckled her gun belt; keeping it within reaching distance. Life in Old Verity was pretty quiet, but it never hurt to have one's weapon close by if the need to use it arose.
The heavy thump of a glass in front of her claimed her attention.
"Sheriff Tyler. Heard you had returned to town last night. Drink?"
The blonde raised her face from her gun holster and met the merry gleam of the buxom barmaid's eyes. "Yeah, scotch, Donna. And don't go calling me Sheriff okay? I've told you before to call me Rose. This whole Sheriff title thing doesn't sit well with me. I'm just an ordinary person doing a job that has to be done."
"And doing it far better than any man would, if you ask me," retorted Donna, her ginger hair bouncing as she laughed.
"Mmm," replied Rose. "Well, you can try and tell old man Sorrell that. He has never liked that they swore a woman in, but with most of the menfolk being recruited and sent off to war there aren't many left in this town with the guts to take on the job."
She paused to take a sip of her drink before continuing. "Don't reckon I would have got the job either except for saving Rancher Harkness's son from being trodden on in that cattle stampede. Think he must have put in a word somewhere because out of the blue the townsfolk are calling on me to be the new sheriff after McTavish bought it in that mix up with the Indians."
"That where you just come from?" questioned Donna.
"Yeah, told them I didn't blame them for McTavish's death. As sorry as I am for his family, the man always had it in for the local tribes. It wasn't easy, but I finally managed to convince the chief that there had been a simple mistake made and the person responsible for the stupidity has been removed from his post." Suddenly Rose laughed. "It was easier to make him understand that then the fact that I didn't want to marry his son."
Donna laughed, her mind filled with the possible images that such a union might have resulted in. She grabbed a cloth and proceeded to wipe down the top of the bar.
"So," continued Rose. "You're my eyes and ears around these parts, Donna. What bits of gossip have you managed to glean from the galoots that call this tin pot saloon home."
"Hey now," snapped Donna, "I'll have you know that this is a first rate establishment, Sheriff Tyler. We don't hold with any funny business here. I even have a tea room open now for the ladies of the town. Any gents who want anything more than a quiet drink and game of poker can find their own ways down the road to … well, you know where I mean."
"No, I'm afraid you'll have to spell it out for me," teased Rose seeing her friend's flushed face. "Oh, Donna, I'm just teasing, don't be mad at me, please. You know how important your friendship is to me. Please, tell me what's been happening."
"All right, forgiving Donna, that's me. There you go, I've granted you pardon for your devilish words. Gawd, it's a good thing I like you, hey?" she finished sarcastically. "Okay, news. Not much to tell but, for what it's worth, here it is."
Rose drained the last of the scotch from her glass before directing her attention back to her friend.
"Old man Sorell has been going around in your absence, trying to stir up trouble with the young bucks of this town. He tried with the women too, but most won't hear of no ill against you. I don't think many of the few remaining men have listened to him either. Well, that's going by what I've heard them talk about when they come in here."
Rose preened a little at hearing these words. It felt good to know that she had the support of Old Verity's townspeople. Still, it only took 'one bad apple to spoil the bunch' so she had best be careful with her own behaviour and give no cause for anyone to doubt her. "What else?" she enquired.
Donna thought for a moment before answering. "They discovered gold a couple of days ago up north. I suppose that means slower business for me as they all catch 'gold fever' and scamper off to stake a claim."
"Ah, but think of the money they'll spend, Donna, if they do strike it rich." A wicked expression crossed her face. "You might find some of your previous suitors much more interesting with a little money in their pockets."
"Not likely."
"Anything else interesting then? What about the ladies and their gossip in your fancy tea room?"
"Well, now that you ask, there is one piece of news. Fort Fenwick is going to host one of them expensive socials and everyone in town is invited. It's supposed to be a great night so I hear tell, fancy gowns and pretty lights everywhere. Handsome soldiers in their uniforms and dancing, Rose, with a real orchestra and everything," she said excitedly.
Rose smiled, happy for her friend. The prospect of such an evening, however, held no joy for her. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time, Donna, but those things aren't for me. I have to stay grounded and focused. Besides, the men all treat me as one of them anyway. Reckon most of them hardly know I'm a woman sometimes."
"Oh, come on, Rose. You go day in day out in the same sort of gear. Always shirt, britches and boots. I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress. If you dolled up a bit, put on a fancy frock and fixed your hair, I reckon you'd scrub up real nice and your dance card would be overflowing, not to mention a few suitors coming out of the woodwork."
Rose laughed long and hard. "Oh, Donna, sometimes you are just too funny. What would I do with them, hey? Most of the men around here are little more than young pups. As for being a soldier's wife, no, thank you. So you see, it's much better for me to just stay at home and read my favourite books."
"Yeah, well, your favourite book won't keep you warm in bed at night, will it now? Okay. Well, if the young bucks won't do and the officers are out what about your gorgeous cattle rancher? I hear James Harkness is pretty enamoured with you," she teased.
"Hmph, he's just grateful that I saved his son, that's all."
"Right, grateful is a thank you note and a handshake. Flowers by the carriage load and fancy gifts? He's definitely smitten and you'd do well to return his overtures. Or … if not, can I have him?" she finished in a fit of giggles.
"Donna," uttered Rose suddenly serious. "Look, I know I should be nicer to him, and to any other woman he is a great catch, but he's not what I want. If I married him, he would expect me to give up my position and basically be a wife and mother and … one day perhaps I will want those things too. But not with him."
Donna sighed and then tried once more to convince her friend to come to the ball. "Well, until another more interesting candidate comes along, how 'bout you and me go stag to this social? Please, Rose," she pleaded.
Rose did not have the heart to refuse her. Donna continued to be a very good friend to her, invariably giving her useful information as well. She owed it to her to do as she asked just this once.
"Okay, I give in," she finally replied with grace. "Have it your way, but it's your job to make sure I don't make a fool of myself, you hear? Now stop talking to me and go and serve my fellow customers or they'll be complaining about the help around here."
"It's a bargain then, Sheriff Tyler, and I guarantee it'll be a night like no other," retorted Donna before she left Rose and moved down the bar to greet her new customer.
Rose reclaimed her hat and gun belt, shaking her head at how easily Donna had managed to talk her into going to the social.
It's sure to end in disaster, she thought. But any further thought she may have had on the matter was postponed as she heard her name being called from out in the street.
"Sheriff Tyler!"
She rushed out through the saloon doors to find her deputy, Mickey Smith and his posse just outside.
"Sheriff," he nodded in respect.
"Deputy Smith," she replied as she extended her hand in greeting.
"Welcome back. All go well with our Indian friends? Must have, since I can't see any arrows in your back," he teased, grinning hard.
"Enough of that talk, Deputy Smith. You wishing there were so you can have my job?"
Deputy Mickey Smith laughed. "Not a chance, Rose Tyler," he said as his face took on a serious look again, "not when you are so brilliant at upholding the law, speaking of which …" He moved aside to reveal a man trussed up with rope.
"Who's this?" questioned Rose, meeting the man's brown eyes. As she did so, an unexplained shiver went through her body. She quickly tore her gaze away from him and focused back on her deputy.
"His name, so he tells us, is John Smith and he has been accused of murder."