Authors Notes: Why hello! I'm starting to think Bo Peep is becoming one of my very favorite characters. I don't know why, but I just like her. Or… I like my fanfiction version of her. Ha ok, whatevah, please review! This is one of those five years ago chapters, but you probably already knew that.
Bo Peep was a waitress; A very popular one to say the least. She worked at the Davis county Saloon. She usually got to know many of the people who came into the bar.
The owner of the saloon was a guy named Mr. Davis. Not many of the people knew his first name, because just after a year the place was up and running, Mr. Davis passed away. The place would have gone to his son, Andrew, but Andy was only five when his father died. The widow was pregnant, but she still took it upon herself to take care of the place.
Bo was one of just a handful of people who worked at the saloon before Mr. Davis died.
The first week of her working there had been an eventful one.
Bo used to work as a shepherdess on her fathers farm. She had no mother. Her father never talked about the whereabouts of the missing mother. Her father was a sick man, and passed away when Bo was almost eighteen.
Bo couldn't hold a farm together by herself, so she sold the farm and moved to town. She took a job as a seamstress for awhile, and then at the opening of the saloon she applied to be a waitress. Mr. Davis was hesitant on hiring her, since she was still young. Yet, Bo was very attractive, so he agreed.
Bo had a charm with it almost immediately. By the first three days, she already knew almost all the names of the usual visitors, and fellow workers.
Except for one person.
Friday that week was a busy day for the saloon. Bo entered the building early that morning as she had every other day that week. The familiar sound of Slinky pounding on the old ivory keys greeted her as she got in uniform.
"Mornin' Slink," Bo said casually.
"Mornin,'" he replied still playing the tune without flaw.
Walking in was usual the crowd added with a few more travelers. At twelve O' clock, the nervous, but very large in size, Rex T. would come in because he'd said he was going to meet some friends. Upon seeing that he was early, Rex would freak out wondering if the others were going to show up.
Then Hamm and Potatohead, the said 'friends,' would come in at twelve O' nine, bickering about something involved with politics or the economy.
Mr. Mike would stop the feuding between the small crowd, and would announce the showgirls that would come on stage.
An odd pair of stepbrothers would walk in at twelve seventeen. Mr. Snake and Mr. Robot seemed as if they were already drunk before they even touched a drink.
Rocky Gibraltar would pop in with Shark and Mr. Spell, giving an occasional compliment to Bo at twelve thirty.
The rest came in anonymously, always the same time as the day before.
Bo found it a little boring at first. The same thing happened every day. But she found something that was a little abnormal, to keep her life moving in the slightest. At different times of the day, a tall lanky man in an overcoat with a brown cowboy hat to match his eyes would walk in. He sometimes chatted with the other people, had a drink or two, enjoyed the show, or plain just sat in the area.
The oddest thing about him though was that whether Bo or any other waitress served him, he would always give generous tips to Bo Peep herself. She didn't know his name. Bo had always felt confident around the other customers and learning to know them personally, but he was different.
That Friday as Bo Peep took account of every usual customer who came to the saloon, he waltzed in, still wearing the overcoat and brown hat tipped slightly over his eyes.
Bo thought it odd, but she always wanted to be the one serving him, like she could uncover the mystery this man held. She quickly went to the bar, grabbed a few drinks she could offer, and made her way towards the table at which he sat.
Suddenly another man came into the Saloon. He wore a cowboy hat himself, with a yellow scarf tied around his neck, a cotton shirt, and lighter worn down blue jeans. The man looked obviously drunk when he staggered into the empty tables.
"I need a drink down here!" he burbled, interrupting the heated argument between Potatohead and Hamm. One of the other waitresses, Ms. Troll as everyone called her, quickly grabbed a tray of drinks herself. She gave Bo a motion to go serve the drunk man, and she would cover the other odd man.
Bo sighed. She didn't particularly want to give up examining the strange man for the day, but she agreed and went past him.
She almost glared at this other man. He looked like he had enough alcohol for the day, but as she offered the tray he greedily took one of the mugs. Bo lingered off to the side a bit, and took a good look at this man. His belt was pretty fancy. Something on the belt caught her glance though. It was sticking out on the opposite side, so she couldn't tell what it was.
Bo tried to crane her head without looking to suspicious. Her view traveled the room to see if anyone saw her doing what she was doing. The man in the overcoat was looking her, way, but not at her. His glare was focusing on the drunk man Bo stood next to.
She herself took a peek at the rough face of the drunk man. He had scratching stubble on his chin, and the makings of a thick mustache. On his right eye, he had a black eye-patch. Bo couldn't help feeling she'd seen the face before.
She continued to move her position until she could see what was poking out of the belt. Bo nearly dropped the tray she was carrying when she realized what it was.
A loaded and cocked silver pistol gleamed at her viciously.
Bo's first instinct was to get to Mr. Davis, or one of the other boys. It then came to her that she was overreacting, and that plenty of people had guns. However, it made her incredibly nervous, and she forgot that now she was plainly looking at the gun.
It didn't take much longer for the owner of the gun to realize the glance.
Out of nowhere, he burst up quickly and loudly, starting to swear like a madman. He grabbed Bo's arm harshly, and she let out a terrified squeal, dropping the tray. The glass shattered loudly. He whipped out the gun in his holster.
The showgirls on stage screamed, and ran. The other men and women at the saloon also yelled, and hid under the tables.
"That'll be a lesson to ya, for being a- you little," he swore madly. He raised his gun and prepared to shoot.
"Not so fast Bart. Reach for the sky," rang out a voice behind the two.
Bo looked back and saw the man in the overcoat, standing tall holding a gun of his own. He glared intensely through his chocolate brown eyes.
The man still grasping Bo tightly laughed a rustic chilling laugh that sent immense shivers down her spine.
"Sheriff Woody Pride. I should'a guessed you'd be here, a big ole' fan of the Davis,' huh?" he sneered not moving a bit from his position pointing the gun strait into Bo's chest.
The man presumed to be Sheriff Pride stayed firm in his position too.
"You're goin' to jail One Eyed Bart. Drop the gun and stick up your hands," he said calmly, but still strongly.
"I don't think so sheriff. If you still want this girl's blood to be a pumpin' you had better let me get along," Bart said snickering darkly.
Bo looked around frantically. It was obvious she was in a very bad position, and if she didn't think quickly, she'd end up being taken by this lunatic. She somewhat stumbled on her high pointy high heels. They had been bugging her all evening.
"Bart, I'm warnin' ya. If ya don't come clean now, it'll get a little messy in this bar," said the sheriff, trying a last attempt.
"Tarnation, sheriff, if you think-" Bart started, moving the gun slightly.
Instinct came over Bo, and she slammed down her heel on the man's foot. He let go of her arm and yowled, also pulling the trigger of the gun. It shot of in some direction making all the people there jump.
Bo had fallen when the man released her, and so she crawled away quickly, taking shelter under a table near the sheriff.
The man swore very loudly, and gave a very wicked glare to Bo.
"Somebody aught to teach ya a lesson little missy, otherwise you could get in big trouble," he said, daring to take a step towards her.
"Leave her alone Bart. Don't make me say it again. Stick your hands up," the sheriff said loudly.
"Sheriff, you got the hots for this girl or somethin'? Shoo, I woulda never thought you'd be one for them romantics stuff. Ain't she a pretty little thing?" Bart said shrugging off the comment. "A little trouble perhaps, but mighty fine. It's a shame."
The man did something unpredictable.
He overturned the table he was next to and kicked up the dust in the room making it harder to see. Two gunshots were heard, and screams came from all directions of the room.
Who shot who? :D