DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!
A/N: This is my second attempt at a Young Guns crossover. This takes place when Chavez first arrived at John's, so he mostly speaks Spanish.
Roy O'Bannon sat slumped over in his saddle, a river of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He reflected on his recent near-death experience. His gang had buried him alive in the desert following a botched train robbery (which, honestly, hadn't entirely been his fault.) A Chinaman had happened along and given Roy chopsticks with which to dig himself out. The chopsticks had worked, but the effort involved had drained Roy of all his strength. Then he had ridden off in a random direction, so he currently had no idea where the hell he was.
In his brief career as an outlaw, Roy had stared death in the face several times, but he had never felt as close to dying as he did now. He was parched, having finished the last of his water a long time ago. His head was pounding and swimming all at the same time. He hadn't had a decent meal in upwards of a week...
Suddenly, he saw a beacon of hope on the horizon, a beacon in the shape of a whitewashed adobe house.
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'Who could that be?' wondered Serena Riddle as she looked up from a shirt she was mending and saw a figure approaching the property on a black horse.
Strangers came to call on a fairly regular basis at the home of her employer, John Tunstall, so she wasn't overly worried. Usually, it was just a young man who needed work or a place to spend the night.
Serena squinted and the figure came into focus. The stranger was indeed a young man. His hair was so blond it was almost white and there was a roguish twinkle in his clear blue eyes. His nose was extremely crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice and not healed properly either time.
Jose Chavez y Chavez kept a wary eye on the man. The Army's brutal attack on Red Sands had caused him to develop a deep mistrust of strangers, especially when the stranger in question was a white man.
Serena brushed away a bit of hair that had been obstructing her vision, approached the stranger, and asked, "May I help you?"
"Water," said the stranger in a barely audible voice.
"Pardon me?" said Serena.
"Water!" the stranger shouted hoarsely.
"Of course," she said. "Follow me."
While leading the stranger to the backyard, Serena tried to gain an impression of the man through his clothing. His attire gave very mixed signals. His well-worn boots, chaps, and jacket suggested he was either a cowhand or an outlaw; his purple pinstriped shirt and matching paisley bandanna made him look like a bloody pansy.
The stranger staggered over to the well and began gulping water out of the bucket, spilling most of it down his front as he did so. He eventually had to stop for breath and turned around to face Serena.
"Thank you so much," he said weakly. "What's your name, pretty lady?"
"Serena Riddle," she replied.
"I'm Roy O'Bannon." He held out a hand and Serena shook it. Roy smiled. "For a woman who works on a farm, you have such soft, lovely hands."
Serena blushed. "Mr. O'Bannon--"
"Please, please, call me Roy," he interrupted.
"Roy. Would you like a fresh shirt since yours is wet?"
"Sure, but only as long as it's not any trouble." Roy answered.
"Not at all," Serena assured him. She held out the shirt she had been mending, which happened to belong to Chavez.
Roy, who had never concerned himself with modesty, immediately stripped off his jacket, bandanna, and purple shirt in front of her. Serena tried not to stare at his muscular arms and flat stomach. Roy took his time putting on the replacement shirt.
Chavez came into the backyard to make sure his good friend Serena was all right. He was more than a little pissed off to see the stranger standing half-naked in front of her. His temper rose even more when he saw the stranger putting on his shirt.
"Ma'am," said Roy, now buttoning the last button, "thanks again for the water. You probably saved my life. And thanks for loaning me your brother's shirt too. Let me know if there's anything, I mean anything, I can do to repay you and your brother."
"You know something, Roy?" said Serena thoughtfully. "There is something you can do. Stay here and work for our employer. After all, sheep need a shepherd."
"I appreciate your kindness and your hospitality," Roy began. "I really do, but I'm not a preacher. I'm not even really a religious man, to tell you the truth."
"Ella significa que tenemos una multitud de oveja que necesita tender, pendejo." said Chavez. (She means we have a flock of sheep that need tending, asshole).
"What did he say?" asked Roy, whose knowledge of Spanish was limited.
"Nothing," Serena said hastily.
"Well, anyway, back to the shepherd thing, I guess I can think about it," said Roy. "But can you do me one more favor? Would you mind if I stuck around for dinner? I feel like I'm about to die of hunger."
"Yo contentamente le pondré fuera de su miseria." offered Chavez. (I will gladly put you out of your misery).
"Por favor no sea grosero," begged Serena. (Please don't be rude).
" ¿Puedo tener yo una palabra con usted en la cocina?" asked Chavez.
"Si," replied Serena. "Excuse us for a moment, Mr. O--Roy."