Just like in the "official" DCU, we at DC2 enjoy giving our readers a little something extra around the holidays. Though I'm not always able to contribute, I do like to sneak in a little "Christmas on the range" whenever I can. This particular story started with the very basic idea of Greg "Vigilante" Saunders running into one of his ancestors during the time he was stuck in the past, and I fiddled with a lot of approaches before the Christmas angle hit me -- after that, it sort of wrote itself. Hope you enjoy it, and a Happy Holiday to you and yours.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are owned by DC Comics.

Continuity: Originally posted on the DC2 fanfiction site as part of the 2007 DC2 Holiday Special ("A DC2 Christmas"). For a link, please click on the homepage listed under my profile.

HERE WE ARE AS IN OLDEN DAYS

Wyoming, 1876:

The sun was sparkling off the crisp, white snowdrifts all around Jud Saunders, but he barely took notice. His attention was fixed on the open cylinder of his Peacemaker before him as he tried to reload it with numb fingers. It wasn't just the cold affecting him, either: a rifle slug had torn through his right bicep, and though he'd tied a bandana tight around it, blood was still seeping out and staining the sleeve of his coat a deep red. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up, especially since he was down to his last two bullets. Dammit, fellas, he thought as he snapped the revolver shut, you've got what you wanted, so why don't you just up and go on your merry way?

Crouching as low as he could, he peered carefully around the stiff carcass of his horse -- she'd bought the farm moments after Jud himself had been shot -- and tried to spot any of the Barrowman boys. Sure enough, there they were, standing atop a low rise with their own fine-and-dandy mounts behind them and a pair of rifles trained on his position. One of them spotted him moving and squeezed off a shot, the others laughing as Jud ducked back under cover.

"How ya doin' down there, deputy?" Jake Barrowman called out. "Bet you wished you'd stood in bed!"

"Go on an' stick yer head out again! My aim's improvin'!" The sound of Mike Barrowman cocking his rifle echoed across the snowy expanse between them.

"Bet you a dollar y'all can't shoot the ears off'n his cayuse." That was Bill Kendrick -- he'd ridden with the Barrowmans for many a year, and was just as mean.

"Get ready to pay up," Mike said, and shots rang out once more, pounding into the horse's skull a couple times before finally shearing one of the poor dead animal's ears away. Jud lay as flat as he could the whole time, wishing there was some way to escape this madness before one of those bullets connected with his own head. It didn't seem possible, though: that horse carcass was the only cover within at least a hundred yards, and if he made a break for it, the Barrowman boys would surely tire of their game and cut him down mid-stride. Don't let me die out here like this, Lord, not on Christmas Eve, Jud prayed. They say this is the season of miracles, and I surely need one right now. Please, Lord, I'm beggin' you: let me live through this, let me see Kitty again, please...

He heard more gunshots, and braced himself for the possibility of the bullets tearing into him, then realized that the report was definitely not one made by a rifle. In fact, it sounded like another Peacemaker. The shots were quickly followed by one of the Barrowmans yelling something rather profane. His own gun held at the ready, Jud ventured a look and saw a stranger on horseback entering the fray, his pistols blazing as he scattered the outlaws and their mounts off the rise. Mike Barrowman leveled his rifle at the newcomer, but caught a bullet in the head before he could get off a shot.

"How do y'all like it when the odds ain't so uneven?" the stranger said to them as he steered his mount between Jud and the remaining outlaws.

"I'll show ya, you sonovabitch!" Jake scooped up his dead brother's rifle and began shooting, narrowly missing the stranger. Jud took the opportunity to jump out from cover and level his pistol at the outlaw, finishing him off with his last two bullets.

His longtime partners gone, Bill Kendrick suddenly lost his nerve and broke into a run. "What are you waitin' for? Shoot him!" Jud yelled at the stranger, who merely sat on his horse as Kendrick fled.

"Ain't my way to shoot a fella in the back, no matter how much of a skunk he is," he replied, and flipped his Peacemaker back into its holster. "'Sides, two dead bodies on Christmas Eve is two too many, in my opinion."

Jud had to concede: outlaws though they may be, the idea of killing anybody this time of year just carried with it an air of wrongness. He knocked snow from his trousers as he approached the man on horseback, trying to get a better view of him -- most of the stranger's features were hidden by a red bandana tied across his face. "I don't know who you are," Jud said to him, "but I owe you my life."

"No thanks needed. I just happened to be near enough to catch the sound of gunshots on the wind...not to mention their voices a-cacklin' over the fix they'd put you in." He swung off his horse, saying, "How'd you manage to get into it, anyhow?"

"By bein' plain stupid," Jud said. "Them Barrowman boys have been terrorizin' our town off and on for about three weeks now, and even managed to lay up Sheriff Burkiss on their last run-through. Didn't look like we had much hope of catchin' them, but then we got a wire sayin' that Jake was in jail over in Laramie on a drunk-and-disorderly. I figured, 'Well, it's only one fella, and we're short-handed, so I'll just go on my lonesome and bring him back to Carson City for the trial.'" He shook his head. "My dumb ass never figured that the other boys would be comin' 'round to spring him."

"These are the Barrowman boys?" The stranger was staring down at the two bodies sprawled out in the snow, then turned to Jud -- there was an odd little tilt to his head, as if he were seeing the young deputy for the first time. "Y'all said you came from Carson City?" he asked.

"That I do."

"Mind if I ask your name?"

"Jud Saunders...Deputy Jud Saunders, if'n you please." Now it was his turn to give odd looks. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." The stranger removed a coil of rope hanging from his saddle horn and said, "We'd better round up them horses before they get too far off."

Kendrick had managed to snag his ride as he hightailed it away from there, but the other two horses were still milling about nearby. Jud commandeered one of them to make up for the one he'd lost, while the stranger hoisted the pair of corpses onto the other and tied them down. He did this in silence, though he did steal a glance Jud's way from time to time, looking quickly away whenever the deputy returned the gaze. Jud couldn't fathom this strange behavior, nor could he figure out why the stranger still kept his face hidden, even going so far as to pull his white drover's hat a little lower over his eyes. Leave the man be, Jud told himself. He saved your sorry hide, ain't that enough?

"That should do it," the stranger said, finally breaking the silence. He tugged at one of the knots he'd made, then looked over at Jud...though Jud noticed that the man still tried to avoid direct eye contact. "Reckon it'll hold 'til you get back to Carson City."

"You're not comin' along?"

"I shouldn't."

"Got other places to be, eh?" Jud took the horse's reins when the stranger offered them, then tethered it to the horse he'd be riding. "Not surprisin', bein' Christmas and all. Probably got family waitin' on you."

"N-no, I...I don't have any family 'round here. Not anymore." His voice had become a bit strained. "I...used to. I grew up out here. But now...now it's just me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No, of course you didn't. How could you have?" The stranger turned towards the open landscape, saying, "It's my own fault, anyhow. I should've known better than to come out this way, but...it gets lonely, especially around the holidays. I just...I wanted to see something familiar, to spend some time in a place I used to know so well."

"I know the feeling."

The stranger turned around. "You do?"

Jud nodded. "First few years I spent out West were some of the loneliest of my life...and Christmas was the worst. I'd see folks with their friends and family, and it reminded me that everybody I knew was a couple thousand miles away. I can't tell you how many times I thought about gettin' on a train and goin' back to Connecticut just so I could see a familiar face."

"What stopped you?"

He let out a chuckle. "I'd remember how damn boring Connecticut was. So I toughed it out, and eventually I settled down in Carson City and made a lot of new friends. I still miss my old home sometimes, but not as often as I used to."

"I had a place like that for a while, but after a couple months, I just...it wasn't right for me anymore. I think about goin' back there every now and then, but I just ain't ready yet." The stranger shook his head. "Reckon I'm afraid of gettin' too settled."

Again, Jud nodded. He'd met other men like that: rootless, wandering souls, incapable of staying in one town for more than a few days before the road called to them once more. Before he met Kitty, Jud thought he might end up doing the same, and his heart went out to the stranger. He put a hand on the man's arm and said, "Listen, I know I ain't exactly family, but you did save my life, and there ain't no way I'm gonna let the man who saved my life spend Christmas Eve alone. So why don't you come on back to Carson City with me, at least long enough for me to buy you a drink?"

The stranger didn't respond at first, instead looking down at the snowy ground. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met Jud's directly for the first time, and the deputy was surprised at the odd note of familiarity he saw there. It wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but there was something about the stranger's eyes that Jud knew he'd seen before. "I...I'd like that," he said haltingly.

Jud clapped the man on the shoulder, smiling. "Well, alright then, let's get a move-on." They saddled up and headed northeast, their horses crunching through the virgin snow. It was getting near sunset when they finally reached town, but the main street was still bustling with folk. Many wished the deputy a Merry Christmas as they rode past, and a few said that he should've tied a ribbon 'round the Barrowman boys before hauling their carcasses in. Jud joked back that he was simply helping Saint Nicholas sort out the naughty from the nice. The stranger held his tongue through it all, his attention seeming to be fixed more on the town itself. Jud caught his eye and said, "Think you could get used to the place?"

"Probably best if I don't," he replied. An odd answer, in Jud's opinion, but he brushed it off with barely a second thought as they brought their horses to a stop in front of the sheriff's office.

The other deputy, a fellow by the name of Grayling, stepped out as the two men dismounted. He let out a whistle and said, "Damnation, son, I was expectin' a live one, not two dead 'uns."

"Things got complicated. In fact, I'm damn lucky I got back in one piece," Jud said. "How's Burkiss?"

"Don't look good: them bullet wounds went septic. Doc says he doesn't think the sheriff will make it to New Year's...but at least you got the bastards that killed him afore he passes on himself."

"Well, to be honest, it wasn't all me. If'n this fella hadn't shown up and..." He started to point to the stranger, then realized he wasn't standing there anymore. Jud looked down the street and saw him leading the corpse-laden horse over to the undertaker's. Man won't even stand around and take credit, he thought.

Someone called out Jud's name, and he turned to see Kitty Wilcox heading up the boardwalk towards him, saying, "Where have you been? I thought you would've been back hours ago." Then she saw his bloodied arm and paled. "My God, are you okay?"

"I'm a lot better now, darlin'." He wrapped his arms tightly around her and gave her a kiss, thankful that he was still alive to do such things. "Had me one Hell of a scare, but the Good Lord was watchin' out for me."

Kitty pulled back a little and looked up at him, a note of worry in her eyes. "You should go see the doc so he can clean you up before that gets any worse. Did you hear about the sheriff?"

"That I did. Damn shame, he's too good a man to go down like that." He smiled at her and said, "But don't you worry 'bout me, I'm young and I'm as tough as they come. I ain't gonna let a little scratch like this take me out."

"You'd better not." They kissed again, then they realized someone was watching them from the street -- the stranger had returned from the undertaker's. Kitty turned to the man and said, "Are you enjoyin' the show?"

"I-I'm sorry," the stranger said, and quickly removed his hat, revealing a head of hair as black as Jud's own. "I was just...I...oh Lord." Though the bandana still covered most of his face, a blush could be seen forming on the tops of his cheeks.

"Ease up, Kitty, this fella's the reason I'm still breathin'." Jud gestured for the stranger to join them up on the boardwalk, saying, "Let me introduce you to..." He fumbled as he realized that he didn't even know the man's name.

"Smith will do fine," the stranger said, then nodded to Kitty. "Very nice to meet you, ma'am."

Kitty, who had always possessed a sharp tongue, said to him, "Do you always hide your face in the presence of ladies, Mr. Smith?"

The stranger looked down sheepishly, and Jud was about to apologize to him, but then the stranger reached up and removed the bandana. The man appeared to be a few years older than Jud, but what struck the deputy most was that odd note of familiarity again. It was more than just the eyes now, it was everything about the man's face, like something half-remembered from a dream. "I'm sorry if I seemed rude," the stranger said quietly, "but I just...I feel like I shouldn't be here. Maybe it'd be better if I..."

"You're not goin' anywhere," Jud interrupted. He didn't know why, but the thought of this stranger leaving already didn't sit right with him. "I promised you a drink, and I'm gonna deliver on it."

"After you see the doc," Kitty told Jud, then added in a softer tone, "Please, I don't want you gettin' sick too."

"I ain't gonna get sick, I swear," Jud said, but there was no denying the look in her eyes. "Okay, I'll go see the doc...reckon I should be the one to tell Burkiss 'bout the Barrowmans, anyhow." He gave Kitty a peck on the cheek, then said, "Why don't you take the good Mr. Smith over to the church? The party should be startin' pretty soon."

"Party?" the stranger echoed. "You didn't say nothin' 'bout a party."

"I didn't? Well, it must have slipped my mind." Jud grinned as he left the two of them, saying, "You treat my gal nice 'til I get back!"

Kitty turned to the stranger, whose face still looked a mite flush. "I take it you're not very comfortable in social situations?" she asked.

"Normally, I'm just fine, but this..." He put his hat back on, pulling it low once more. "It's hard to explain."

She placed a hand on his arm and looked up at him. "You don't have to do anything you don't want...but I would like it if you could escort me to the church."

"I think I can manage that." They made their way down the street until they reached the whitewashed building near the center of town. Many other folk were already outside the church, smiling and calling out greetings to Kitty before passing through the open doors. The stranger paused at the foot of the steps as he took in the sight. "It looks just like I remember it," he said under his breath.

Kitty regarded him. "Beg pardon?"

The stranger cleared his throat, then said, "When I was...where I grew up, the town church looked a lot like this one." He gestured to the roof. "The steeple was a bit dif'rent, though, with a bigger bell..."

"They've been talkin' about gettin' a bigger one for ours, but they haven't come up with enough money yet." The two of them started up the stairs, and Kitty asked him, "Whereabouts did you grow up, Mr. Smith?"

"Not far from here, actually." A small smile came to his lips as they passed through the doorway, which was festooned with ribbons and green boughs. "Matter of fact, you could probably mistake one town for the other, they're so much alike."

The long benches that served as pews had been moved aside for the night, and sawbuck tables brought in, which had in turn been laden with food and drink of every sort. All the different aromas mingled together, creating a scent that brought to one's mind memories of Christmases past, of warmth and love and family. Some people hopped from one table to the next in an effort to sample the entire board of fare, while others headed directly for a particular favorite. Every so often, a child would pop out from under one of the tables and sneak another candied fruit or piece of pie from under the noses of their parents. At the back end of the church, where the pastor would stand for Sunday service, an impromptu trio had set up: guitar, piano, and fiddle, playing holiday music more-or-less in concert with one another. As they helped themselves to some of food, Kitty saw that the stranger's attention kept returning to the musicians, and that he winced once or twice at a sour note. "I'll admit, they're not the best, but they do try," she told him. "Perhaps later on I can take a turn at the piano -- Mrs. Danville has been givin' me lessons, and she says I'm the best student she's ever had."

The stranger's face seemed to light up at the suggestion, and he set his tin plate down on a nearby table, saying, "Why wait?" He took her by the hand and led her over to the musicians -- the gentlemen were grateful for the chance at a break, yielding the floor to the two newcomers. Kitty took a seat on the piano bench, and he asked, "Do you know 'Deck the Halls'?"

"A little...but I don't think I could do it proper."

"Maybe with some help..." To her surprise, the stranger took up the guitar that one of the men had set down and began picking out the melody slowly, giving her time to settle into the rhythm herself, the sound of their mutual instruments meshing together perfectly. Many at the party stopped to listen to them, and soon voices were lifted up in song, the refrain of fa-la-las bouncing off the walls of the church. When the song was finsihed, Kitty was startled by the sudden applause that filled the air. Unsure of what else to do, she stood up and gave them a small curtsey, then turned to the stranger, and was shocked to see tears on his cheeks. "Mr. Smith? Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine...I'm fine," he said, and wiped at the tears. "It's just that I was rememberin' how we..." He swallowed hard, then said, "When I was little, my grandma would sit me next to her while she played piano. I didn't understand at the time how to play, but she'd let me...she'd let me hit the keys, even when she was in the middle of a song." He looked at her, his eyes red. "By the time I knew how to really play an instrument, she was gone, and I...I always wanted to play with her for real. Just once."

She smiled at him. "I'm sure she'd be proud of how talented you are now."

"You have no idea how much that means to me." He smiled back and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you, Mrs. Saunders."

She laughed and said, "I'm flattered...but it's actually Miss Wilcox. Jud and me aren't even engaged."

"Give it time." He looked over at the crowd and called out, "You are plannin' on marryin' this gal, right, deputy?"

Some of the people gathered 'round laughed a bit as Jud stepped towards the two of them, his injured arm now in a sling. "That I am," he replied, "so you'd best move away from her a bit." He gave Kitty a kiss of his own, then said to her, "This ain't exactly what I had in mind when I left."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of comin' between you two," the stranger said as he set the guitar back down. "Your lovely lady was just helpin' me spread some Christmas cheer."

"Well, I'll let it go this time," Jud said with a smirk, then reached into his coat and pulled out a flask. "In the meantime, I do believe I owe you a drink."

"Jud Saunders, what has gotten into you?" Kitty said when she saw it. "If the preacher catches you with that in his church..."

"He'll probably ask for a nip," Jud finished. "The man ain't a saint, you know."

"I don't care. If you two are gonna get liquored up, you'd best do it outside." She clucked her tongue. "Bringin' alcohol into the church...and on Christmas Eve, yet."

The two men made their way to the front of the church, leaving Kitty by the piano -- by the time they stepped outside, she had started up on "The Twelve Days of Christmas", with some of the folk singing along once more. "I will admit, hearin' you and her play like that was something else," Jud told the stranger. "I saw a guitar stickin' out of your saddlebag, but I never would've figured you was that good."

"I'm just full of surprises." He took the flask when Jud offered, and knocked back a mouthful of whiskey -- night had set in, and the alcohol cut right through the chill in the air. "I should thank you for talkin' me into comin' back here with you. I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but this...this was good. Better'n I could've dreamed."

"Could make it permanent, if'n you're up for it." The stranger cocked an eyebrow, and Jud continued, "Me and Burkiss had a talk when I went up to see him. The man ain't stupid, he knows he ain't got much longer, and he said that he wants me to take over for him." Jud paused to take a pull off the flask himself. "I told him he was crazy, I've only been deputized for 'bout a year -- and that was supposed to be a temporary thing, mind you -- but he said that he'd rather I take the job than Grayling, 'cause I've got more sand, and you need a lot of it to be sheriff." He then looked the stranger in the eye and said, "You also need good men under you, and I think you fit that bill."

The stranger didn't reply right off. His gaze went up to the stars glittering in the clear night sky overhead and stayed there for a good minute or so. Then he let out a shuddering sigh and told Jud, "I want to say 'yes' so badly. I want to stay here and make this place my home...but I can't, because if I do, I know I'll foul things up."

"You ain't gonna foul up nothin'." He laid a hand on the stranger's shoulder. "I don't know why, but ever since I ran into you, it's felt like you're hidin' something from me, like you're afraid. Whatever it is, it don't make one lick of dif'rence to me, understand? You're a good man, and fast with a gun, and that's all I'm concerned with."

"It means a lot to me, you sayin' that, but it don't change that fact that I can't stay here. I'd tell you why, but you'd never believe me."

"Give it a shot. I'll decide for myself how believable it is."

The stranger took another drink and appeared to mull it over. Jud waited patiently, wondering just what secret would keep this man from accepting his offer, but then the stranger let out another sigh and said, "No...no, it's better if you don't know, or at least safer. I will tell you this, though: this night has been one of the best I've had in a long time, and I ain't never gonna forget it." A smile came to his lips, full of warmth and good humor despite the sadness in his eyes, and then to Jud's surprise, the man embraced him -- it was brief, but the fact that it happened at all took Jud off-guard. When the stranger finally let go, he said to Jud, "I'm damn glad I got the chance to meet you."

"Feeling's mutual," he answered, too stunned to think of any other response.

This apparently struck the stranger as funny, and he let out a chuckle. Once it passed, he said, "Reckon I should be headin' on out while I'm still sober...Lord knows what'll pop outta my mouth if I get drunk." He glanced back through the open doors of the church, lingering on the far-off image of Kitty as she played. "Can you say goodbye to her for me? I don't think I can do it right now without breakin' down. And tell her to keep practicin', 'cause she...she's good." The man bit his lower lip.

"I will." Jud regarded him for a moment, then said, "You sure you want to go? I mean, it's past dark and all. Why don't you check in at the hotel and..."

"No, I'm gonna go...I'm gonna go." The stranger talked like he was trying to convince himself. He sniffled, then looked at Jud, saying, "You take real good care of this place, y'hear? 'Cause I'll be back, and I don't want to find out that you slacked off."

"I promise, no slackin' off," he said, then offered the stranger his hand. "You have a Merry Christmas, Mr. Smith."

"It's Greg," he said suddenly. "Call me Greg."

"Alright...Merry Christmas, Greg." They shook hands, then the man turned and began to make his way down the street, back to where he'd left his horse. Jud watched until the man disappeared into the darkness, then he went back into the church. Kitty and the others had made it up to twelfth day and were working their way back down the list, and Jud stood to the side waiting for them to finish the song. Once they were done, he took a seat next to her on the piano bench and put his good arm around her waist. "You sound wonderful tonight," he told her.

"Thanks." She glanced about, then said, "Where's your drinkin' buddy?"

"He had to go...I think all the attention was makin' him uncomfortable."

"It's a shame, he seemed like such a nice man." She paused, then said, "This might sound strange, but there was something awful familiar about him."

"I was thinkin' the same." He shrugged slightly, saying, "I dunno, some folks have those sort of faces that just kind of look like everybody."

"No, he was a somebody...I just can't think of who." She smiled at him. "So...did you mean what you said earlier? About marryin' me?"

"Maybe I did. Do you think you'll still want to marry me if'n I become sheriff?"

Kitty's eyes widened, then she smiled once again and kissed him full on the lips. It was all the answer Jud Saunders needed.

The moonlight gave the snow all around him an ethereal glow as he rode his horse away from Carson City. There was such a strong temptation to turn back, to trot his horse right up to the church and run inside and tell Jud that he'd take the job and stand by the man as his deputy through thick and thin...but he couldn't do it, for there would always be that other temptation, to speak the truth, even though he knew he shouldn't.

But he did ask me, he thought, his heart leaping at the notion. He barely knew me, but he trusted me enough to ask me. He stopped his mount and looked back at the town in the distance one last time, thinking of how much bigger it would get over the next half-century. He thought of Kitty, her beautiful chestnut hair long faded to gray, sitting at the piano and trying to teach him the scales while he fidgeted like all toddlers do. He thought of Jud, who only existed in sepia-toned photographs that his father would show him as he related how the man had single-handedly brought down the Barrowman boys, then topped it off by shooting Bill Kendrick between the eyes with a single shot from his Peacemaker three months later. Most of all, he thought of home, and how much he missed it...and how wonderful it was to get a glimpse of it again, if only for one night.

"Merry Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa," Greg Saunders whispered.

THE END