A/N: Well, thank you for the bountiful reviews, folks! I'm certainly enjoying this story! As promised, there is more action in this chapter. Needless to say (yet still necessary, I know, that's confusing) I do not own Star Trek. Probably never will (though I try not to think about that). Do enjoy!
Out behind the saloon they stood in front of a fence and water barrel. Kirk and Spock had purchased a gun and were now practicing with a few old tin cans perched up on the fence post. McCoy reclined against the store wall, watching as Kirk nailed can after can after can.
"See, Bones?" he said. "This is easy. There's nothing to worry about."
McCoy shook his head. "Saying it doesn't always make it true, Jim."
"The Captain has always been known for his exemplary aim," Spock put in. "However, in this case your opponent is more familiar with the weapon of choice."
"It's not that hard to use," Kirk mediated. "You point and shoot just like a phaser- though it's got a bit of a kick to it."
"Jim, not that we don't want you to lose," McCoy started. "But what happens if you win? Do you get a prize or somethin'?"
"I'm not sure, Bones," Kirk reflected. "Maybe just the satisfaction of shutting up a loud person."
"Well, hell, if that's all, put my name down," the doctor joked.
Kirk grinned and fired at the last can. It shattered spectacularly under the bullet. A beautiful Roanoke and white-spotted horse tied nearby whinnied.
"Be careful, you're frightening the wildlife," McCoy scolded.
"That is a domestic horse, Doctor," Spock corrected.
"That's enough for today," Kirk decided. "Time for some shut-eye. Bones, Spock?"
The men wordlessly agreed and followed Kirk up to their joint room. It was going to be a big day tomorrow.
"Jim, you should be worried now."
McCoy and Spock looked out the window from the saloon/hotel room down onto the main street. Instead of tin cans, four bulls-eye targets were getting set up.
"You've got a tinier target."
"Ah, Bones, it's just like phaser target practice," Kirk dismissed, unworried.
McCoy sighed and stretched, grabbing his hat from the top of a dresser. "I hope you're right about this."
The three men walked out onto the street proper. A small crowd was milling around already, watching as two old-timers set up the bulls-eyes for the challenge.
"Are ya ready, boy?" came a sneer. They whirled and saw Jeb standing there, leering.
"Ready to beat you like a drum?" Kirk replied. "Absolutely."
Jeb spat something on the ground. "We'll see about that," he growled. He shoved past them.
"Well, gentlemen," Kirk said. "I guess I'd better go take my position."
"Jim," Spock said softly. "Are you certain this is wise?"
Kirk glanced at the bulls-eyes and where Jeb was twirling his gun. "It looks like we'll find out, Spock," he said. He left to go stand near Jeb.
"Spock," McCoy said, inching closer. "What are we going to do if Jim doesn't win?"
"I am considering that, Doctor," Spock answered, eyebrows knitted together.
"Well, we need some sort of plan, don't we?"
"Yes, Doctor. Now if you will be silent, I may be able to think of one."
The crowd quieted as Jim and Jeb walked out, even with a water barrel. The targets were a distance away from them, and everyone crowded up on the porches to watch the action.
"Well, how are we going about this?" Kirk asked. "You shoot, I shoot?"
"No," Jeb replied, his voice now silky as snake-skin. "As challenger, you may shoot at all the targets first. Then I shall go."
Kirk shrugged and pulled out his pistol. He held it in front of him, squinting down the barrel at the red dot in the center of the bulls-eye. He fired once, and then moved on to each target.
The shots were incredibly good. The most haywire one was only half on white, with the closest mostly on the red (save for a hair). Anyone would be jealous. Kirk stepped back and looked at Jeb, waiting for the man to go.
Jeb roared a laugh and started shooting. It was over in a matter of seconds- but when the dust cleared it showed that Jeb's shots were closer- all of them were mostly in the red, with just a hair on the white.
"There it is!" he crowed. "I'm still the undefeated champion!" Spock and McCoy glanced at each other as Jeb waved his pistol in the air. "It's official!"
"Well, now, hold on a minute," McCoy stepped forward casually before he knew what he was doing. "I'd like to try that. D'you wanna go up against me?"
"Doctor," Spock warned in a low voice.
Jeb stopped ranting and looked at him. "Sure, why not?" he gloated. He pointed at the bulls-eyes. "See if you can beat that!"
"I'll try," McCoy answered. He raised his voice. "Say, does anybody here have a gun that I can borrow? I don't have a pistol."
There were some murmurs in the crowd and a fellow approached him, offering his. McCoy thanked him and walked to the shooting line, getting a feel for the weapon.
"Good luck," Jeb stated, reclining on his heels.
McCoy aimed, and fired. The shot went wild and took off the top of the target. Laughter tittered through the crowd, and Jeb was doubled over.
"Now, hold on a minute," McCoy called. "I ain't familiar with this gun. It's got quite a kick. Jeb, how long have you had that gun you're using?"
Jeb scratched his head and put his hat back on, still red from laughing. "Shoot, I don't know. A long time."
"Exactly. You know that gun. I've had this for just a minute, an' had to get a feel for it." He nodded towards the target. "Now that I know how it shoots I suggest a redo on that target. Fair is fair."
Jeb pondered it, thinking. At last he shrugged. "Why not? You're right, it ain't yer gun. But just this one redo! Then you do all the others like normal!"
McCoy gave one nod and aimed the pistol again. Everyone grew silent as he just stood there, holding his arm out and staring down the barrel at the tiny red dot.
He fired.
In quick succession, he fired at the other targets, only solidly moving his arm to the right as he went down the line. When he finished the old-timers hurried up and checked the targets.
"Well?" Jeb demanded.
"He's hit the red!" one called.
"How much?" Jeb yelled back impatiently.
"All in!"
Whispers instantly zipped through the crowd. Jeb's face twisted and he stormed up to the bulls-eyes himself. Sure enough- each of McCoy's bullets were completely in the central red zone.
When Jeb shouted a cry of anger it just confirmed it for the crowd. Everyone started talking excitedly and cheering at once, and Jim and Spock fought to reach McCoy.
"Bones! Come here," they managed to wrangle him away as the townspeople merely turned and started gossiping with themselves.
"I never knew your aim was that precise," Kirk said, an arm slung over McCoy's shoulders.
"Well, with phasers you don't need to be that on-point, as they've got a pretty wide spread," McCoy commented. "But, Jim, remember that I'm a surgeon. Steady hands and sharp eyes are a requirement."
"Fascinating," Spock mentioned. "It is unusual for those skills to be transferred over to firing a side-arm, but it logically makes sense."
McCoy grinned. "Well, Spock, I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted that you finally find some part of me 'logical'."
They were interrupted when Jeb shouted again. The crowd fell silent and they turned as Jeb marched up and pointed his finger at McCoy. The man looked absolutely livid.
"Noon today," he threatened dangerously. "I wanna see you out here at noon today. You might have a pretty fancy aim, partner, but we'll see how fast yer draw is. And find out who the real gunman in this town is."
He spun viciously on his heel and stalked away. As the crowd erupted once more in excited chatter, McCoy turned to his friends with an open expression on his face.
"What just happened?"
"I believe, Doctor," Spock informed. "You have just been challenged to a 'showdown'."
Kirk paced the inside of their room, on a long rant. Spock stood by a bedpost, watching, and McCoy sat in a chair, waiting for Kirk to finish.
"-unexpected stunt. I was fine! Did you think about what you were doing when you went up there? And now we've got a showdown to deal with! That was very poor planning, Doc-"
"Jim, don't you know that I can feed you the same argument?" McCoy interrupted tiredly.
"Bones, this isn't about-"
"But it is." McCoy rose and walked up to Jim. "You were fully prepared to win that match. And had you, it would be you challenged to a showdown right now."
"It appears that we needed to be less concerned about losing to Jeb, and more attentive to the consequences of winning," Spock observed.
"Exactly. So Jim, you can't berate me for something you were trying to do!"
"Bones-!" Kirk stopped himself. "Fine. You know what? Forget the match. That's over with." He stopped and sighed, dragging a hand across his face. "Just what are we going to do about the showdown? Noon's not that far away."
"We can always beam back up to the ship," Spock suggested.
"No," McCoy refused. "If we're suddenly gone they'll take that as a sign of cowardice. We can't leave."
"Fine," Kirk was thoughtful. "We still have my pistol. We can go out back and have you practice some with it-"
McCoy was shaking his head. "I won't take the pistol."
Kirk started to get mad again. "Doctor, this isn't a bravery competition!"
McCoy got a glint in his eye as an idea struck him. "No, it's not, Jim. In fact, I do know how to go about this."
The change in attitude threw Kirk for a moment. "What?"
"You fellows don't have to worry about a thaing," McCoy assured them, a grin on his face and his accent thickening. "I've got it all figured out." He moved to the door from the other room.
"Where are you going?"
"Why," McCoy explained. "To buy a bottle of whiskey, of course!"
He pulled and shut the door behind him, leaving a very confused captain and Vulcan alone in the room.
Mwa-ha-ha, I leave you all to speculate on McCoy's plan! I warned you- there is much BAMFery going around this story. Happy Fourth to any Americans out there, and happy fourth to everyone else! Please review, folks!
