A/N: Yeah, so... Time for a long one. Sorry for this one being so late, I wanted a relatively simple chapter and then I got... Ideas. Those ideas turned this chapter into an absolute monster, and due to the the way I ended up writing it, I didn't feel right breaking it up into two chapters. Feedback is, as always, appreciated.
Vicki turned the dial on the washing machine, causing it to emit several audible clicks, which were soon followed by the sound of water flowing into it as she turned it on. "Good thing I thought to check her pockets..." The twenty-one year old cast a quick glance at the drying machine next to the washer, upon which sat Heather's phone, her wallet, brown leather boots, the keys for her house, and a small, silvery-colored Swiss army knife, the original color of which appeared to have long since faded. "Don't see why she doesn't just wear pants more often though..." She turned away from the washing machine with a light shrug and headed up the stairs out of the basement, putting her back in her living room. "Hm… Guess I should give the Twerp a buzz so he knows I'm coming to get him." Vicki mused aloud to herself, taking out her phone as she stepped over to and opened her front door.
Meanwhile…
Timmy sat on an old, uncomfortably hard wooden bench, clad in a light blue button-up shirt worn under a plain white vest, and a pair of blue jeans with a black, leather belt, the buckle of which was slightly over-sized. On his feet he wore a pair of black rancher-style boots, sans the spurs such boots usually came with. Finally, around his neck he wore a pink bandanna, exactly the same color as the baseball cap he usually wore. "Hah..." He sighed out, slouching forward in his seat with his right elbow balanced on his knee, propping his head up in his hand. "Darn it all..." The teen muttered under his breath, slowly glancing around the room he was in. To his right and behind him were hard, rough wooden walls, and at the end of the bench he occupied, sitting in a corner, was a bucket; one he could only assume was the closest thing he and his current companion had to a toilet. To his left and straight on were thick, black iron bars, the kind you'd expect to see making up a jail cell. Fitting, considering where, but more importantly, when, he was.
"Rrgh!" The fiery-haired girl he shared the cell with growled out, kicking the wall next to his head with all her might, missing him by mere centimeters.
"You're just gonna hurt yourself doing that, Vicki..." Timmy blinked his eyes closed, his tone heavy with exasperation. That had not been the first almost-kick to his face. Nor the second or third. By his count, it was the twenty-eighth. "Or does that make twenty-nine?"
"That's Vicky the Kid, Shitbird!" The redhead leaned in close, her eyes blazing with fire as she glared daggers at the fifteen year old. "Mark my words, if by some miracle we get outta this, I'll make sure you never forget my name again!" Her outfit had changed little since the last time the teen had seen her; same long-sleeved green undershirt and gray bandanna around her neck, same black vest with what looked like a green, stylized 'S' stitched into the fabric on each side, same black leather gloves and similarly-colored jeans, same brown leather belt bearing a yellow-gold buckle, and even the same black leather boots that matched her vest in terms of visual design, the spurs of which were a slightly tarnished yellow-gold color. The one thing missing from her outfit was her gold-studded black cowboy hat, which had been confiscated by the Sheriff when he locked the two of them up in the cell they currently shared.
Timmy winced at the girl's raised, hostile tone of voice, feeling like he was reliving his early relationship with his Vicki all over again, though this one was considerably more foul-mouthed. "Well then thank goodness we're both getting executed tomorrow!" The teen shot back angrily, standing up and getting right in the red-haired girl's face, something that was considerably easier since she was still only sixteen. "That is unless you nag me to death first!"
"Give me a few minutes, bet I can come up with something more creative, if you'd prefer!" Vicky yelled right back, baring her teeth as she grabbed the brunet by the collar of his shirt and balled her free hand up into a fist, then raised it in front of his face threateningly.
"And then what's your plan? You kill me now, and you lose the only chance you've got of getting out of here!" Timmy yelled in a half-pleading tone, again remembering that this wasn't 'his' Vicki, this girl was actually a criminal. The type who was more likely to lie and steal than assault or outright murder someone, but she was trapped in a cage with him, and their last meeting hadn't exactly ended with them being on friendly terms, what with him essentially chasing her out of town in humiliating(if somewhat comical) fashion.
"Quiet back there! Both of you! Any more of that yelling and I'll shoot you both myself!" The loud, gruff voice of the Sheriff called from somewhere near the front of the building, causing both teens to flinch in surprise and clamp their mouths shut.
"This isn't over, you little… Rrgh! I can't even think of a proper insult, I'm so angry!" The redhead whispered out harshly as she released her cellmate, then shoved him back a few feet and dropped down onto the cell's bench with a huff. "Why'd you have to come back anyway?! Three months you were gone, just disappeared out of nowhere, and I was able to come back to this dumb little town and do whatever I wanted! Started with picking pockets, then robbing the odd stagecoach, peoples' houses, and even the bank once or twice!"
Timmy simply rolled his eyes, realizing that in the time he'd been gone(and back in his own time) Vicky the Kid had only become that much more of a criminal. At least the last time he was here, she was simply acting like the Vicki in his time, babysitting kids and asking for an exorbitant amount of money, then extorting the parents when they couldn't pay. Now she was unambiguously a bandit by Old West terms, and was apparently doing pretty well for herself… Up until he showed up, anyway. "Oh, so this is my fault?! You were the one who told the Sheriff that the two of us were 'in cahoots'!" The brunet exclaimed in a similarly harsh whisper, taking a moment as he finished speaking to straighten out his shirt, now wrinkled from the girl's tight, threatening grip. Much like before, Wanda had poofed him up a more 'period-appropriate' outfit upon returning to this time, though to avoid attention, he'd opted against donning his 'Masked Stranger' persona, settling instead on no hat at all, as he hadn't planned on staying long anyway. He'd also made it a point to come back a few months after his first run-in with this time period's Vicky, hoping that all the fuss and craziness from his driving her out of town would've blown over.
As it turned out, it had, but it also meant that no one recognized him as the person who saved the town, except of course Vicky herself, who managed to crash into him right as he poofed into existence in front of the bank, which she just happened to be robbing at the time. Her shock upon seeing him had been exactly the distraction the Sheriff needed to catch her, but this was Vicky, and she had no intention of going down alone. Before Timmy could utter a word, she began laying into him about how the two of them were going to run off together after 'this last big heist' and how it was 'all his fault' she got caught. Needless to say, the Sheriff was quick to assume Vicky was telling the truth, and thus arrested Timmy as well. Justice in the Old West at its finest.
"Well what else was I gonna do?!" Vicky hissed out, her pink eyes still narrowed angrily at the brunet.
"How about accept your punishment for being a bandit and leave me out of it?!" Timmy shot back in an irritated, matter-of-fact tone, then tipped backward and leaned against the bars of the cell, crossing his arms and bowing his head a little.
"Right, but then I'd still be caught and you'd be free!" The sixteen year old gritted her teeth, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up from how annoyed she was getting.
"But if I wasn't in here, I could've gotten you out! Now they're gonna hang us both-"
"Oh like Hell you would've!" The redhead raised her voice, slipping out of her quiet whisper and into a more audible volume. "You're the reason I had to start robbing people in the first place! If not for you, I'd still have this stupid little town under my thumb with the money everyone owes me for babysitting their little brats! Everything was fine before you came along last time, and now the second you show up again, my life goes straight to Hell!"
"Dammit, boy! You tell your woman to shut her trap before I tie you both to horses and have them drag you off into the desert, y'hear?!" Again, the Sheriff yelled from somewhere near the front of the building, prompting both teens to look in the direction his voice had come from, before making eye contact with each other, then quickly breaking it, Timmy turning his attention to the wall at his right, while Vicky simply pouted and glared down at her boots.
"Tch, least I'd have a chance, 'stead of swinging from the gallows and kicking out my last few breaths..." The older of the two teens muttered to herself, before tilting her head back and butting it against the wall behind her. "...So-" Vicky began, her voice cracking as she choked back a sob. "-What brings you back to Dimmsdale Flats, anyway?"
Timmy; however, ignored the ex-babysitter's question, opting to instead focus on the wavering quality of her voice. "Er… You okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm just pleased as punch. I'm stuck in this cell with you, this bench is making my ass as stiff as the wood it's made of, and I'm gonna die at the ripe old age of sixteen from a snapped neck, if I'm lucky. Forgive me, 'Masked Stranger', if I'm perhaps feeling a bit melancholy about the current state of my affairs." Vicky remarked bitterly, casting a quick glance at the teen that revealed the whites of her eyes to be just slightly red.
"Ah… R-Right, stupid question… Sorry." The brunet responded quietly, realizing that he might have perhaps gone a bit too far when he'd yelled at the girl. Granted, she did deserve it for being a criminal and roping him into being executed as well, but in all likelihood she was already well aware of that, and certainly didn't need him yelling at her, likely stressing her out even more. "You-Uh… You sound pretty smart, considering you're-"
"A woman, right? Girl with a few brain cells between her ears an odd sight, 'Stranger'?" The redhead queried in an overly defensive manner, her tone practically dripping with venom.
"N-No! I wasn't-! I meant for someone like you-a bandit in the Old West! It's got nothing to do with you being a girl! Honest!" Timmy stammered out nervously, not wanting to risk setting his cellmate off again. "I figure… Most people in this town aren't all that educated, just… Kinda surprised you are, since most movies and stuff about the Old West have thieves and bandits in them that seem like they probably can't even count." He finished with a shrug, the pink-eyed girl continuing to stare him down for several seconds, before at last turning away with a scoff.
"Tch, I could say the same about you, Whatever-Your-Name-Is. You talk like you're from the city, or at least one of the bigger towns out here… Where are you from anyway? Blackwater? San Francisco?" Vicky took a moment to wipe at her eyes, then sniffled quietly, before turning her head to look at the fifteen year old directly. "No… You're a bit too well-spoken for someone out here, and you mentioned… What? Moo-Vees? That something from back out East?"
"Er… Y-Yeah, you could… Say that..." Timmy glanced away evasively, rubbing the back of his head in discomfort. "Great, supposed to be getting a souvenir, and instead I'm screwing around with history by talking about modern-day stuff… Hopefully Wanda can get us out of here soon, so I can get back to my own time..." The teen mused to himself in thought, feeling the curious eyes of his cellmate still boring unto him.
"So what are they?"
"Eh, what?" Timmy looked up suddenly, the girl's pink, curious eyes now locked on and meeting his surprised blue ones. "You… You mean, m-movies?"
"Yeah, you said they 'have thieves and bandits in them', and that they seem like they can't even count. Doesn't sound like you're talking about a book, so what are they? What are Moo-Vees?" The redhead asked, her earlier melancholic tone having faded somewhat.
"Uh..." Timmy trailed off, mouth gaping slightly as he tried to think up a good explanation for the girl. In truth, she was a bit endearing when she was curious, her eyes becoming a bit wider as she stared up at him from the bench, her whole body now oriented toward him with her hands patiently resting in her lap. She was very nearly the spitting image of his Vicki, who he could only assume was distantly related to the girl sitting in front of him, and despite what had to have been a fairly rough life growing up on the 'frontier', she was actually quite pretty; with lightly tanned skin, a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and her hair, while a bit dusty from when she'd crashed into him, was still the familiar vibrant red, just like Vicki's. The only real difference aside from the very mild tan was that 'Vicky the Kid' had a thin scar going across her nose, which was barely visible in the relative darkness of their cell anyway. "S-Since we're gonna be here a while… I guess I might as well tell you, just to pass the time..." He pushed himself up off the iron bars, taking a few tentative steps over toward the older girl. "Mind if I… Sit down?" He pointed to the bench, more than long enough to accommodate both of them and still have plenty of room to spare.
"...Alright, but if you try anything; put your hands on me, grab something you like because I'm a girl-" Vicky threatened, her tone cautious as she shot the brunet an uncertain look.
"Wh-Why would I try anything like that?!" Timmy nearly yelled, his cheeks blushing a bright pink color. "Y-You've already proven that you could probably knock my teeth in if you wanted to, and it's not like I can get away..." He gestured at the black, iron bars of their cell for emphasis.
"W-Well I… I just wanted to make sure we were clear… Y'know, in case you… Got any ideas..." The redhead muttered out sheepishly, the slightest tinge of disappointment in her voice.
"...'Kay..." The fifteen year old responded hesitantly, his cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. "So anyway… Where was I…?" He wondered aloud as he sat down on the bench, putting a good three feet of space between himself and Vicky. "Ah… Movies, movies… Okay, so movies are-" The teen cut himself off as he felt thin, slender fingers wrap around his left bicep, followed by the feeling of himself gently sliding to his left, until he came to a stop, the distance between the two teens now shrunk to little more than six or so inches. "Wh-What is it?" He stuttered out, turning to face the red-haired girl, and quickly realizing he suddenly felt uncomfortably warm with her face so close to his.
Vicky responded with a quick nod toward the front of the building. "That old pisspot's already in a bad mood, probably be best if we try to keep quiet. If you really can get us outta here, it's in my best interest to keep you breathin', 'least for now."
"Oh so what? I get the two of us out of here and you stab me in the back for my trouble?" Timmy spoke in a half-joking, half-serious tone, the corners of his mouth tugging upward to form a slight grin.
"Shoot you in the head, actually." The sixteen year old responded in an even, completely deadpan tone, going so far as to give the boy a light tap right in the middle of his forehead. "Shame, really. Kid like you's probably born to break a lot of hearts..." A quiet, wistful chuckle escaped the redhead as she finished, though her statement was visibly lost on the brunet, if his look of bemusement was any indication.
"Ah… What? My aunt used to say I'd grow into a real 'heartbreaker' when I got older, but… I don't-"
"Means you're cute, ya damned fool." Vicky interrupted, her tone bearing more than a hint of annoyance as her cheeks gained a light dusting of pink.
"O-Oh, um… Thank… You?" The teen stammered out nervously, his blush darkening to a rosy tint barely visible in the darkness of the cell. "Why do all the girls who like me have to be crazy in some way?"
"I wouldn't thank me just yet, still haven't made up my mind about putting a bullet between those pretty little eyes, remember?" The older teen quirked an eyebrow up at Timmy, her own lips tugging up into a small smirk.
"W-Well, er… Any way I can convince you to not shoot me?" Timmy offered nervously, his voice bearing a slight wavering quality.
"Let's start with telling me what 'Moo-Vees' are; I'll think about what I'm gonna do with you in the meantime."
"I guess that's fair… So, a movie is like… You know what pictures are, obviously, right?"
"Pictures you say?" The girl began in an overly flighty voice, sounding a bit like a typical southern belle. "I'm afraid I don't know nothin' about those, being the poor, uneducated farm girl from Texas that I am..."
"...Y'know, this'll be a lot easier if you drop the sarcastic attitude, Vicky." Timmy deadpanned, shooting the redhead a flat, unimpressed look.
"And it'll go a lot quicker if you stop assuming I'm some dumb farm girl who just stumbled into having the most successful babysitting service within two-hundred miles! Yeah, I know what a picture is, Shitbir-..." Vicky caught herself, closing her mouth after a moment before glancing away, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "What's your real name, anyway? Figure I ought to know the name of the kid who's gone through so much trouble to derail my life on two separate occasions."
"I was just trying to get the deed to the town the first time, it wasn't anything personal, even if you were extorting everyone who lives here!" The brunet whispered out harshly, growing tired of the girl's insistence that everything bad that happened to her was his fault, rather than her own for being an all around unpleasant person. "And this time, I just happened to be passing through, that's it! You crashed into me, remember?"
"Doesn't change the fact that you did get in my way on both occasions. Premeditated or not, you have been a massive thorn in my side… And I'd like a name to go with your face, leaving me with the impression that you have." Vicky remarked calmly, her arms crossed over her chest as she continued to stare her cellmate down.
"...Timmy. Timmy Turner." He responded hesitantly, wondering if it was really a good idea to tell the redhead his name, and thus leave yet another piece of evidence of his many adventures through time.
"Timmy Turner." Vicky parroted back, her eyes giving his face a studious once-over. "I'll have to commit it to memory, should you keep your word about getting the both of us out of here."
"What about you?" Timmy began, giving the girl a quick nod. "Vicky the Kid just what people call you, or was it your idea?
"Little of both, actually. My name is Vicky, but everyone out here thinks every single bandit needs some catchy nickname; Dead-Eye Rick, Fast-Hands Morgan, Dirty Dan… Figure people must've started calling me 'Vicky the Kid' on account of how young I was when I first gained a real reputation-thirteen, by the way-and I guess I just decided to roll with it, made my reputation grow, gave me a title that sent kids running for cover, and some adults too." The redhead explained somewhat proudly, with a grin to match. "'Course, with me becoming a full-time 'bandit', as you say, the nickname's caused me a bit more trouble than I'd like, but you never get tired of hearing people speak your name in hushed whispers; the fear and awe in their voices, the respect you command… Suits me just fine."
"So then… What's your name? Vicky must be short for Victoria, right?" The brunet watched as his companion's smile faded a bit, her expression becoming slightly more serious. "I figure… I told you my name, so… That's gotta be enough for you to tell me yours, right?"
"Yeah, Vicky's short for Victoria, but… Sorry, with us being on opposite sides of the law, I'm afraid that's all you're gonna get. I've..." Vicky looked over her shoulder toward the hallway that led to the front of the Sheriff's office and stared for several seconds, then turned her attention once more to Timmy and continued speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've got family back home who… Probably aren't too happy about the direction I've chosen in life, let's say. That being said, I'd rather not have my actions cause them undue trouble..." A wistful sigh escaped the girl as she finished. "And you needn't worry about telling me your full name, Timmy. I still value family, even if me and mine aren't on the best of terms." She glanced up at the small window high on the wall behind Timmy, the sky beyond the black iron bars blue and cloudless. "...Somethin' I've been meaning to ask you."
"Okay…?" The teen looked up, meeting the pink-eyed girl's gaze as it dropped from the window to stare into his blue orbs.
"How old are you, anyway? Last time I saw you, you looked to be about ten, maybe eleven. Now though, you look at least a few years older, even if the distinct lack of facial hair makes it hard to tell." She chuckled and gave Timmy a playful wink, letting him know she was teasing him.
"I-Uh… I'm fifteen." Timmy admitted, glancing away evasively as his cheeks began to burn with heat once more. "I… That is… I must've… Hit a growth spurt in these past couple months…" He wasn't technically lying. He was fifteen, but it had also been five years since the last time he'd seen Vicky the Kid, though it had obviously only been a few months from her perspective.
"Hmph. Must've been one Hell of a growth spurt." The redhead shrugged her cellmate's answer off, assuming that, since she hadn't paid the teen's height any particular attention at the time, it was entirely possible she was simply remembering his height wrong. All she'd really noticed was that he was shorter than her, and he very much still was, though only by about half a foot, maybe an inch or two more. "And what exactly was it that brought you back here, anyway? Can't imagine this place has more to offer than any of the big cities around here, and especially not the ones back East, so…?"
"Hm? Oh, I actually came back here to try and get a souvenir or something, as a gift for Trix-… Ah… S-Someone I know, b-back home..." The teen stuttered nervously, realizing how close he'd come to not only mentioning his girlfriend, but also the fact that he wasn't from this time. "Not really sure how much she'd like something from the Old West, but-"
"There you go again with that 'Old West' crap." Vicky interrupted, cutting Timmy's explanation short. "What do you mean by 'Old' West? It's just 'The West' out here; I'm willing to bet wherever you're from is older than anything around here, Timmy." The redhead narrowed her eyes, her curiosity piqued. Whoever this Timmy Turner was, he was clearly hiding something from her, and it seemed as though his story grew more complicated with each question she asked. "Not to mention, just who in the World could possibly be worth crossing a continent for?"
"N-Not anyone you'd know… Just… A girl..." The fifteen year old blushed, Vicky's question making him realize just how ridiculous it probably sounded. If only she knew it was timeitself he'd crossed for the dark-haired girl, rather than something so simple as a country. "We… She and I are… Kind of..." Timmy trailed off, his cheeks again turning a rosy shade of pink.
"What? You courting her or something? Maybe smitten with her? She making you run halfway across the World to earn her favor?" The pink-eyed girl questioned incredulously, curiously tilting her head a little.
"Wha- N-No! She's… She's my girl-! She's just a really good friend, okay? I came out here because I wanted to get her a souvenir, not to earn her favor or anything like that!" The brunet shot back defensively, earning him an intrigued look from the redhead in response.
"Pfft, you sound smitten to me." Vicky blinked her eyes closed and slowly shook her head back and forth. "And what exactly has you so convinced this girl is worth the trouble? She an heiress? Childhood friend you've fallen for?" A sly grin slowly spread across the older teen's face, her eyes narrowing at the boy next to her. "Or… Are you trying to sate a more… Base desire?" Her pink eyes glanced down at Timmy's lap knowingly; more specifically, at his crotch, before reestablishing eye contact nearly as quickly as she'd broken it. "'Cause lemme tell you… There are far easier methods to try, if all you're seekin' is a roll in the hay..."
"Uh-Hehehe… Wh-What do you mean by… A r-roll in the h-hay?" Timmy gulped audibly, the sultry tone with which Vicky was now speaking made him feel warm in his own skin. Uncomfortably so.
"Come now… You're fifteen, I'm sixteen… Basically adults. I think we both know what I'm talking about…?" The redhead slipped a little closer, her right hand sliding across the bench, before colliding with the side of Timmy's left thigh. From there, her hand slid up onto his leg, then further, progressing across the top of it and onto the inner part of his thigh.
In truth, the position she was in now was the absolute furthest she'd ever gone; just close enough to get someone to let their guard down, then her hand would dart out, grab the grip of their revolver, and in an instant, she'd have them at gunpoint. Needless to say, being a pretty young girl gave her a significant advantage in the largely male-dominated West, and it was precisely why she was so good at evading capture, with the combination of her feminine charms and lustful voice turning nearly any man(and at least one woman) into putty in her hands. It was a bit underhanded, but losing her job as the local babysitter(along with the deed to the town) forced her to adapt, and adapt she did.
"Y-You're talking about… That? I-I don't- I've never even… Isn't this… Not the best place for… That?" Timmy stammered and stumbled over his own words, the redhead's sudden change in mood catching him completely off-guard... Her hand slowly sliding up his inner thigh and towards his crotch certainly didn't help matters, either.
"My thoughts exactly!" Vicky grinned evilly, leaning in close so her face was mere centimeters from Timmy's, though her positioning forced her to look up to meet the fifteen year old's bright blue eyes, now filled with a mix of confusion and, she assumed, unease. "So why don't we strike ourselves a little deal, huh?"
"Ah… Wh-What did y-you have in m-mind?" Timmy squeaked out, his voice cracking as he tried(and failed) to maintain his composure.
"Well, I know you already said you'd get us both out of here, but how do I know I can trust you? For all I know, you could turn on me as soon as we get to the front of the building. Sheriff's more like to believe a city-boy like yourself if you plead your case, and I'm Vicky the Kid. You, on the other hand, are just an assumed accessory, and only by my word, the word of a 'bandit' as you insist on calling me." The girl's smile grew wider, her eyes narrowing at the teen now subtly fidgeting under her touch.
"Y-You're one to talk..." Timmy mumbled out, frowning as he broke eye contact and looked away evasively. "Not five minutes ago, you told me you were still thinking about shooting me in the head. Who's to say your word's any more trustworthy than mine?"
"Which is why I'm proposing an accord, Turner." The redhead spoke softly, her voice just slightly above a whisper in volume. "You promise to get me outta this cell, help me get back my equipment, and ride about a mile out of town with me to be on the safe side… You do all that, and on my word; little as an outlaw's word is worth, I will forgive your past slights against me." Vicky smiled in a self-satisfied manner, her eyes still boring into Timmy's as he glanced up at the ceiling, seemingly considering her offer. "If that's not enough…" The sultry tone in her voice returned, her hand slowly edging up along the inside of Timmy's thigh until coming to a stop little more than a hair's breadth from his crotch. "…I suppose it wouldn't be too hard to convince me to give you a roll in the-"
"Eep!" A high-pitched squeak echoed through the quiet cell, causing the redhead to jump in surprise and look around the small space she shared with Timmy, though the fifteen year old in question was quick to sigh with audible relief as he rose to his feet and made a beeline for the bars of the cell directly across from them.
"Hey! I wasn't finished talking, y'know!" The older teen remarked angrily, her brow furrowed in annoyance as the brunet seemingly ignored her.
"Wanda! Thank goodness you're here!" Timmy exclaimed softly, sticking his hand between the bars and giving the small pink rat on the opposite side a few affectionate pats on the head.
"Who are you talking… To…?" Vicky asked as she joined the fifteen year old in front of the bars of their shared cell, trailing off quietly as her eyes settled on a pink, fuzzy rat with a small, gold crown perched atop its head, the rodent's tail wrapped around and holding some sort of thin black rod with a gold star on its tip. "Why are you talking to a rat?" She crouched down next to Timmy, frowning in confusion at the small, oddly colored animal's presence.
"Not just any rat, this is Wanda, and she's our ticket outta here!" The brunet smirked at Vicky excitedly, allowing the pink rat to climb into his hand before he stood back up.
"That a fact?" The redhead stood up in turn, shooting Timmy a skeptical look, before turning her attention to the pink rodent in his hand.
"It is, and I'll show you!" Timmy stepped around the girl and over to the cell door, then held out his free hand in front of his small passenger. "Got the key, right?"
Vicky's ears perked up at this, and she joined Timmy by the door, quirking one eyebrow up in curiosity at his question. "The rat? Or me? ...And what key?"
"Eek!" Another loud squeak escaped Wanda as she reached into her fur and, after a moment, pulled out a plain, black metal key, similar in appearance to the bars making up Timmy and Vicky's cell.
"Perfect! Knew I could count on you!" Timmy whispered out happily, giving his fairy godmother-turned-rat a few little scratches under her chin.
"Wha?! S-She got the key off the Sheriff?!" Vicky exclaimed in disbelief as she leaned in close next to the brunet, though not so loud as to draw attention. "…I want one of those..." She muttered quietly, pouting at the younger teen and his seemingly quite intelligent rat.
"Can't help you there." The brunet responded, allowing Wanda to scurry up his arm and settle on his shoulder before he stuck his right hand through the bars, oriented the key towards the lock, and shoved it in. "Come on..." After a few moments of awkwardly fiddling with the lock, there was an audible 'ker-chunk', followed by the cell door slowly tilting away from the two teens. "Got it!" Timmy remarked happily, giving the unlocked door a gentle push that made it creak open. "After you?" He offered, turning in place to face the redhead.
"What about our deal?" Vicky whispered out harshly, once again narrowing her eyes at the teen in a suspicious manner. "You never agreed to my terms, Turner… Not that I think about it, you never got around to telling me what Moo-Vees are, either."
"Wha… Really? Is this really a good time for this, in your opinion? We need to get out of here, not worry about some deal, or… Or movies!" The teen rebuked incredulously, astonished that an outlaw like Vicky would delay their escape over something so trivial, especially since their lives were on the line!
"I want my deal. You try and leave here without agreeing to my terms, and I'll scream for the Sheriff." The pink-eyed girl stated rather simply, crossing her arms and shooting the fifteen year old a self-satisfied smirk.
"You can not be serious." Timmy deadpanned with a flat look, his cellmate's expression being all he needed to recognize that yes, she very much was. "I'm starting to think this is less about us getting out of here, and more about you making a pass at me!"
"Hmph." The redhead turned away, putting her back to Timmy as her cheeks adopted the faintest dusting of pink. As if to provide further evidence that the boy wasn't entirely wrong, she cocked her right hip up a little, advertising a certain shapely part of her anatomy. "You're free to think what you like, Turner." She glanced over her shoulder, betraying the small, playful smile on her lips. "Thing is, I reckon you haven't got a lot of options, now do ya?"
The brunet took a moment to think, and turned his head to look at Wanda, who merely shrugged in response. A few short statements were fine, as while Timmy could understand Wanda, to anyone else, she merely sounded as though she was squeaking. Talking at length in front of Vicky; however, was completely out of the question. "Rrgh… F-Fine! Whatever you want! Now can we please just go while the going's good?" Timmy questioned in clear exasperation, his cheeks reddening as he wondered how long it wold be before Vicky decided to have him make good on this 'deal'.
"Of course!" The sixteen year old spun around; quick as a flash, with her right hand extended, and snatched up Timmy's in a firm grip, then shook it a few times, before finally releasing it. "First things first: my equipment." Vicky took the lead, exiting the cell and crossing the narrow hallway until she reached the wall, which she was quick to hug as she adopted a slouched, sneaking posture. "If we're lucky, Pisspot might be asleep, seein' as how he's pushing a hundred and twenty..."
"A hundred and twenty?" Timmy parroted back in disbelief as he crept out of the cell and joined the redhead against the wall, mimicking her slouched posture as he placed his right hand on the wall to steady himself. "Really?"
"Might as well be, with how many naps the old codger needs in one day… Anyway, keep close and stay low, we keep quiet, and we shouldn't have any problems getting the jump on him..." Vicky began to creep down the hall toward the front of the building, only to feel her companion's fingers hook into her left back pocket, bringing her to an unexpected halt.
"Hey, wait!" Timmy whispered out harshly, quickly withdrawing his fingers as the girl looked over her shoulder at him, his cheeks bearing a faint blush.
"What? Can't wait to play grab-ass until after we get out of here?"
The fifteen year old rolled his eyes, still unused to how straightforward this Vicky was, compared to his Vicki, who was at least a bit more nuanced. Not to mention, his Vicki had never done something so bold as suggest that she was open to having sex with him… It was a bit odd to hear the sixteen year old suggest it, and the offer had certainly caught him off guard, but then, he was probably the closest thing Vicky the Kid had ever met to a worthy opponent, so it was possible that that was why she'd made such an offer, though there was no way he could know for sure. "I just… Wanna make sure we're clear on… How we're gonna handle this."
"What, like a plan? We don't need a plan for something as simple as this!" The redhead spun around and crouched low, bidding that Timmy do the same. "We're gonna go over, get my gun and ammo, paint the front office with Pisspot's brains, then hightail it outta town on the first two horses we find."
"Agh… Do we really need to kill the Sheriff?" Timmy groaned, feeling a bit nauseous upon hearing the girl's… Colorful description of what her intentions were for the old man.
"No, but getting caught by that old bag of bones has put me in a bad mood, and I'm in need of an outlet." Vicky gritted her teeth in anger, then looked over her shoulder as she heard a loud, snorting snore from somewhere closer to the front of the Sheriff's office. "Now, if you'll pardon me for just a moment..."
"But-! Y-You-Uh… I don't think that's a good idea!" The brunet reached out, his hand settling on the older teen's shoulder, which prompted her to lock eyes with him again, the frown on her lips advertising her growing annoyance.
"Sure feels like a good idea to me..." The pink-eyed girl remarked bitterly, feeling a little ashamed as the memories of how easily she'd been caught briefly flashed through her mind.
"I-I know, but… But just hear me out, um..." Timmy took a moment to think, his heart beginning to beat a bit more rapidly as Vicky patiently awaited his reasoning, her eyes never leaving his face. "Uh… O-Okay, so this is the first time he's caught you, right?"
"Yeah… Only caught me because I crashed into you when you popped up outta nowhere..."
"Alright, so that means he's not very good at his job, right?"
"...Suppose that's a fair observation." Vicky admitted hesitantly, wondering where the boy was going with this line of questioning. "Like I said, I pretty much had the run of the town until you showed up."
"So then, wouldn't it be better to not kill him? If you do, then one of the bigger towns around here is just gonna send a new Sheriff when they get word that the current Sheriff of Dimmsdale Flats is dead. Who's to say the next one'll be as incompetent as this one is?"
"Mngh..." The redhead let out a low, humming growl, realizing Timmy had a point, and a good one at that. "The devil you know is better than the one you don't..." She made eye contact with the teen again, and noticed that the corners of his mouth were tugging upward into a relieved little smile. "You're a pain in the ass, y'know that?" Vicky turned around as she finished, then began sneaking down the hall once more, with Timmy following close behind.
Upon reaching the end of the hall, Vicky came to another sudden stop and brought her left hand up, her palm facing him. "Wait."
The fifteen year old did as he was told, watching as the older teen slunk forward and peeked around the corner. "You see him?" He asked, in turn peeking around Vicky to get a look at the room ahead of them. There were a few chairs made of the same wood as the bench in their cell, and a table of similar make with a few newspapers stacked on top of it. On the wall by the door was a row of hooks that served as a hat and coat rack, though all that hung there now was a plain white cowboy hat; the hat the Sheriff had been wearing when he captured them.
"Yeah… Old goat is wearing my hat…!" The redhead spoke through gritted teeth, then grasped the corner of the wall and pulled herself to her feet. "Gimme a minute, I'll handle Pisspot."
"Vicky, wait-!" The brunet reached for his fiery-haired companion, only for his fingers to miss her by less than an inch as she stepped around the corner, causing him to fall forward from his own momentum and flop onto the floor. "Oof! Vic-"
Smash!
A cacophony of thumps and splintering wood followed the loud smash, the sounds entering Timmy's ears as he momentarily laid prone on the floor, the racket itself soon followed by what sounded like the groan of an older gentlemen, then silence, save for the slow, steady breathing of an unconscious human being. "Alright, Turner. Come out and help me search this place." The redhead's voice came from around the corner, prompting Timmy to push himself up off the floor and rush around it to see the carnage the sixteen year old had caused.
"What did you do?! I thought I said-…?" Timmy trailed off, falling silent as he stared at the older girl's handiwork.
Against the far wall, between his desk and the wall that sat behind it, was the Sheriff, his unconscious form upside-down in a heap, with his legs and rear-end up over his head, itself positioned at what had to be an uncomfortable angle due to most of his body weight pressing down on his upper spine and neck. All around him in the small alcove created by his desk and the two walls were broken, splintered pieces of the chair Timmy assumed the older man had been sitting in prior to Vicky's little 'intervention' in his nap.
"I-I thought you weren't gonna hurt him!" The brunet whispered out harshly, glaring at the older girl, who currently leaned against the desk with a satisfied expression, her arms crossed as she looked at the Sheriff's prone form.
"If memory serves, you advised that I not kill him, and I didn't. You said nothing of grievously harming him, which I most definitely did." An evil smile worked its way across Vicky's face as she looked at Timmy, who merely stared at her, mouth agape in surprise at how she'd twisted his words. Not unlike how a certain descendant of hers tended to. "Oh don't look at me like that..." She pushed herself up off the desk and strode over to Timmy, then bent over a little and reached out to affectionately(and just slightly condescendingly) ruffle his hair. "He'll be fine… After… Maybe, two months of recovery."
"That doesn't make it-" He cut himself off, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch as he looked past the girl at the Sheriff. Something about only hearing the scuffle from around the corner, and then finding the resulting aftermath of said scuffle was kind of humorous, in a dark sort of way. The comical position of the now unconscious Sheriff, along with his badge actually indicating his name as 'Pisspot' certainly didn't help matters. "Just- Just get your stuff..." Timmy pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head, trying to hide the grin creeping across his face.
"Phew! That's a relief..." The redhead spun around on her heel and walked back over to the Sheriff, then crouched down in front of him. "Y'know, for a second there, I thought you were gonna give me a lecture..." She quickly went through the man's pockets, producing a book of matches, several bullets, and a decently-sized wad of cash folded over with a silver clip, all of which she was quick to pocket. "Tch, figured as much..."
"What? Something wrong?" Timmy took a few steps closer, then leaned forward to get a peek over Vicky's shoulder.
"Yeah." The sixteen year old responded off-handedly as she unbuckled the worn, brown leather belt from around the Sheriff's waist, stood up, and fastened it around her own, weaving it under the black one she already wore. Unlike her own, the Sheriff's belt was considerably more worn and damaged; it didn't even have the little loops for bullets that Vicky's did. "Old Pisspot doesn't know the first thing about taking care of his gun." She withdrew the aforementioned gun, an old, tarnished, silver-colored revolver; for emphasis, the grip of which looked to be cut from the same wood that the chairs in the office were composed of.
Timmy; however, was less interested in the state of the gun, and more concerned with the fact that the redhead had taken it in the first place. "Ah… Wh-What do you… I mean, why're you taking that, exactly?" He gulped nervously, the mere sight of the gun and the nonchalance with which Vicky handled it immediately putting him on edge.
"Well he was pretty keen to appropriate my things, I figure it's only right to return the kindness." The pink-eyed girl shrugged, crouching down once more to retrieve her black, gold-studded hat, before placing it back on her head.
"N-No, I mean… Why do you need a gun?" The fifteen year old questioned in a cautious tone, earning him a bemused frown from the older teen.
"The Hell kinda question is that? I'm a sixteen year old woman who lives out on the frontier of the United States with a bounty on her head, and I rob people for a living, what do you think I need a gun for?" Vicky replied matter-of-factly, slipping the battered pistol back into its holster on her hip.
"Oh… Right, I guess that makes sense..." Timmy conceded, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment at not realizing something so obvious. "She didn't have a gun lasttime I saw her… But she was just babysitting back then. With her stealing from people, and even the bank now..." He shuddered slightly, realizing her threat to put a bullet between his eyes hadn't been an idle one. She'd more than likely killed before, judging by how comfortable she seemed with a gun in her hand, and he didn't doubt she'd do it again, if necessary.
"Speaking of, the old goat confiscated my gun when he took us in, my bullets too. Check the drawers on this side of the desk for them, I'll check the ones over by Pisspot." The redhead stepped back over to the floored Sheriff, lightly nudging him away from the desk so she could access the drawers.
"So… How-Uh… How are you with a gun?" Timmy asked, mentally cursing the stutter brought on by his nervousness.
"Good as I need to be." The sixteen year old remarked somewhat dismissively as she shuffled the contents of the top drawer around, picking out a few pieces of random jewelry she assumed the Sheriff had confiscated from other 'bandits' like herself. "Why do you ask, anyway? Worried I'll put one between your eyes after all?"
"...Well now that you said that, yeah, kinda..." The teen muttered out, starting at the bottom drawer on his side, and working his way up to the middle one when he found it to be empty. "How will I know which one's yours if I find it, anyway?"
"Trust me-" Vicky began, casting a sidelong glance at her buck-toothed companion. "You'll know."
Timmy closed the middle drawer, this one being filled with nothing but old papers that looked to be some sort of reports, and pulled open the final, top drawer. "If you say so-… Oh." He paused, looking down at the dark, almost cherry-red grip of a revolver, the rest of the gun coming into view as he slid the drawer the rest of the way out. "Wow."
"You find it?" The girl asked, turning her attention back over toward Timmy as she pushed closed the drawer she'd been searching.
Timmy lifted the gun out of the drawer, his right hand delicately holding the grip, while his left cradled the octagonal barrel, and part of the cylinder. Unlike the gun Vicky had taken off the Sheriff, this one clearly had a loving owner, from the dark red, polished wood that made up the grip, to the deep gray, almost black metal comprising the rest of the gun, and finally, to the off-gold, filigree-like designs all along the cylinder and barrel, with the sights being a similar color, everything about the oddly weighty firearm in the teen's hands told him this was not just a gun, it was practically a work of art! "I-Uh… I'm gonna guess this belongs to you?" He asked quietly, handing the weapon to the girl as if he were presenting it to royalty.
"Ah! There you are!" Vicky gingerly took her gun out of the brunet's hands and looked it over, taking a few seconds to pop the cylinder out and make sure it was still loaded. "I know it wasn't a whole lot of trouble to get it, but thank you, Turner. I'm grateful for your help, all the same." She remarked in a warm, friendly tone, slipping the revolver back into the holster on her own belt.
"Oh, er… You're welcome?" The teen mumbled out in surprise, honestly caught off-guard by how genuine the normally foul-mouthed girl sounded. "There… A story behind that gun, or…?"
"Brgh-Argh… Th-Thursday..." An old, disoriented mumble came from behind Vicky, prompting both teens to direct their attention at the still unconscious form of the Sheriff, who was now muttering incoherently in his sleep.
"Think we can swap stories about your Moo-Vees and how I got my gun later. For now, how 'bout we make ourselves scarce?" Vicky vaulted over the desk as she finished and jogged over to the front door of the building so she could peek out the window at Dimmsdale Flats' main(and only) street. "C'mere." She waved the fifteen year old over without taking her eyes away from the window.
"Yeah? What is it?" Timmy asked, sidling up next to the girl on her left so he could look out at as well.
"I think that's the Sheriff's horse hitched there." The redhead nodded at a dark brown horse with a black mane and tail, the saddle it wore a similar color to and only in slightly better condition than the belt Vicky took off the Sheriff. "Where'd you leave yours?"
"Oh, uh… C-Cosmoo?" Timmy stuttered out nervously as he glanced at Wanda, still sitting on his shoulder in the form of a rat. As if on cue, a small, green flea wearing a tiny gold crown popped its head out of the fur on Wanda's head, then raised one of its arms to wave at him. "I-Uh… I'll have to tell Wanda to go get him, just give her a sec..." The teen gestured out the window with his eyes at Wanda, in turn causing her to hop down off his shoulder, scurry over to the door and squeeze under it.
"...So what, you learn to talk to animals from that Native girl you were traveling with last time I saw you? Or did somebody knock a few of your screws loose?" The older teen quirked an eyebrow up at her companion, her curiosity betrayed by her tone of voice, despite a mostly neutral expression.
"Something like that. ...The first one, I mean."
"Hehehe… Good save, there." Vicky chuckled, her lips forming a bit of a smirk as she watched the residents of the small town go about their daily lives. "Also, Cosmoo? You're not still riding a cow, are ya, Turner?"
"So what if I am?" Timmy shot back with a smirk, recognizing the same teasing tone his Vicki tended to use. "If you wanna go there, where's your horse? Surely an outlaw like yourself has a better horse than an 'old goat' like the Sheriff, right?"
That earned the fifteen year old a steely-eyed glare from the redhead, her grin fading and leaving her with a more neutral, albeit annoyed, expression. "I don't have one. Didn't have much need for one as a babysitter, and with the town Sheriff being incompetent as he is, I've never had to make a quick getaway out of town. Easiest place to hide is right under his nose."
"Mm." Timmy hummed in agreement. "Suppose that's fair… Oh! There he is!" He nodded out the window, drawing the pink-eyed girl's attention to Cosmo, now in the form of a green and white cow wearing a saddle and cowbell, upon whose head sat Wanda, still disguised as a rat.
"Alright, stay close, and try not to draw too much attention." The sixteen year old slowly turned the knob and pulled the door open as she stood up straight, doing her best to look to look as unassuming as possible.
"Says the girl dressed in the distinctive clothes of a well-known outlaw." Timmy deadpanned, eliciting a low huff of disdain from the girl.
"Says the Twerp who rides a bright green cow!" Vicky hissed out, wincing as the door emitted a loud, groaning squeak. She paused to look around, but soon let out a sigh of relief upon realizing that nobody in the vicinity had paid the noise any mind. "C'mon, I got an idea..." She stepped to the side, giving Timmy a little tap on the shoulder and bidding that he move in front of her.
"Okay…?" The brunet responded bemusedly, taking the lead as he stepped out the door and headed toward Cosmo and the Sheriff's horse.
"You're dressed a little less… Dangerously than me. Unhitch his horse and make like you're the one in charge; like you know what you're doing. Even if the townsfolk recognize me, you taking the lead'll make this look more routine." She looked down to meet Timmy's gaze as he turned to face her, the look in his blue eyes subtly asking her 'How so?' "You got that innocent look about you. Not to mention, you're unarmed. How dangerous can I possibly look, if I'm letting you lead me around?"
"Ah… Gotcha." Timmy nodded, then slowly stepped over to the hitching post and unhitched the Sheriff's horse.
"Gimme a boost." Vicky spoke up, appearing next to the teen as he gave the horse a reassuring pat on its neck.
"Sure." Timmy crouched down without so much as a moment of hesitance, forming a step with both hands that allowed the girl to climb up and swing her leg over the horse. "You know how to ride?"
"Eh, been a couple weeks since the last time, but I'll manage." The ex-babysitter remarked in a dismissive tone, briefly scanning the town to ensure they hadn't drawn any unwanted attention to themselves. "Can't help but notice you're pretty agreeable, even with the fact that I'm… Probably not the easiest person to be around."
"Huh?" Timmy hopped up onto Cosmo's back, and relaxed into the comfortable saddle. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, you do what I ask, for one. When you grabbed my gun, you didn't keep it for yourself, or turn it on me when you had the chance. Y'took the lead when I told you to; even gave me a boost when I didn't really need one. They teach city-boys like you manners back East, or does being a gentleman to a lady like myself just come naturally?" Vicky gave the horse's reins a light tug, orienting the animal toward the town entrance.
"Eh… Kind of a funny story, actually..." The fifteen year old, remembering that Vicky had told him to take the lead, nodded his head in the same direction the girl had pointed her horse, bidding for 'Cosmoo' to begin making his way down the street. "There's… Someone I know, back home, who… She's a lot like you, to be honest." He sightly looked over his shoulder as he spoke, keeping his right eye focused ahead of them, while glancing back at the girl out of the corner of his left.
"That right? You're not talking about the same girl you're trying to impress with an 'Old West' souvenir, are you?"
"No, Trix-Er… Trixie doesn't tell me-… Or, well, she does, but… It-It's not the same thing. The girl I'm talking about is my… Uhm… She's like my caretaker-"
"Or your babysitter." The redhead interrupted, causing Timmy's head to whip around to face her. "I'll take that as a yes."
"S-Sort of… B-But anyway, she was the one who was usually around when my parents were out doing… Their own thing." The fifteen year old remarked in a mildly somber tone, turning to face forward as they reached the edge of the town, the surrounding desert wilderness; interspersed here and there with cacti and the odd boulder, stretching out before them.
"Huh, so even on the East coast, people like me are needed."
"She's not like you. For starters, she's a lot nicer." The brunet answered somewhat bitterly, giving Cosmo a light pat so he'd speed up into a comfortable gallop, with Vicky spurring her horse to do the same.
He knew he was partially to blame for 'Vicky the Kid' turning to stealing and robbing banks, but being his Vicki's ancestor, he would've preferred if she'd opted for something a little less dangerous. One mistake on her part wouldn't just cause Vicki and Tootie to cease to exist, it could potentially make it so that there was never any need for Cosmo and Wanda to become his godparents!
"Hey, I'm nice! Haven't put a bullet between your eyes yet, have I?" The redhead exclaimed, sounding more like a petulant child than the feared outlaw she apparently was.
"You're a saint, truly." The fifteen year old deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, how far do you wanna go? We're already a pretty good distance from town..."
"Yeah, but why do you say it like that?" Vicky spurred her horse again, bringing it up alongside the green cow her companion rode. "Are you beginning to find my company tiresome, Timmy?"
The buck-toothed teen frowned, noticing a particular inflection in the girl's tone that felt the slightest bit familiar. The last time he'd heard it was when they were still in their cell at the Sheriff's office; a little crack in her normally confident voice that made him wonder if Vicky was going to cry. It was more subdued this time, less obvious, but still evident enough for him to notice. It sounded a lot like hurt. "No, it's not that, but… I think we should probably go our separate ways."
Before long, the two came to a stop by a particularly large, oval-shaped boulder, propped up on a few smaller ones in such a way that it provided a bit of shelter from the relentless heat of the desert sun.
"Hah..." A shaky sigh escaped the older girl, her once-confident expression fading into a more melancholic one. "Suppose this is as far as we agreed on… Got me outta that cell, my equipment back, and even rode out here with me… Guess I-… I dunno, I was hoping you'd stick with me a little longer, maybe-heh-let me thank you a bit more properly..." Vicky offered in a similar sultry tone like she had back in their cell, though it was marred by a painful, knot-like feeling in her throat.
"I… I'm not gonna say it's not a tempting offer, but..." "But I've really messed around with this time period enough." He thought to himself, at a loss for what he could possibly say to the redhead.
"...Save it, Timmy." The redhead sniffled, taking a moment to wipe her eyes. "I'm not some dewy-eyed little girl who's gonna cry her eyes out over something like this; I've got a reputation to think about." She smiled, forcing back the hurt she was positive was etched all over her face. "Just..." Giving her horse's reins another light tug, Vicky directed it to sidestep over next to the brunet's own steed. "C-C'mere real quick?"
Timmy oriented himself to face the pink-eyed girl and leaned toward her, a curious frown playing at his lips.
Vicky's hand darted out, catching the fifteen year old by his bandanna and the collar of his shirt, and leaned toward him as she pulled him close, planting a rough, forceful kiss on Timmy's lips, before finally pulling away and releasing him after a few(more like several) seconds, both teens' cheeks blushing a bright shade of pink. "Don't you dare forget about me this time, got it?"
"O-Okay, um… I… I won't." Timmy rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, taking notice of a faint tingling sensation on his lips.
"I-I mean it!" The sixteen year old's blush darkened to match the color of a ripened tomato. "If you forget… Th-There's gonna be Hell to pay…!" Vicky looked down at her hands and began straightening out her gloves, though it was really just a poor attempt to hide her blushing cheeks and rather frustrated expression.
"Okay, I get it!" Timmy put his hands up defensively in the face of the older teen's threatening tone. "I wish I had something you could remember me by..."
Poof!
No sooner had the words left the brunet's mouth than did he hear the familiar sound from his godparents' wands, indicating that his wish had been granted. "Wha…?" Timmy looked back and forth between Cosmo and Wanda, who simply returned quizzical looks in response. "No, I didn't mean for you two-"
"You've left enough of an impression already, Turner." Vicky interjected, giving her ponytail a quick toss to get some of the excess desert sand out of it. "Not much of a fan of goodbyes anyway, so… I guess I'll see you… When I see you." Without another word, the redhead spurred her horse, which took off in a rapid gallop, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.
"Hm." Timmy hummed somberly, offering a final wave to the girl that he knew she wouldn't see. "Can't believe my first real kiss was from... One of Vicki's ancestors..."
"I can't believe she lived long enough to have kids. Living the life of an outlaw doesn't give you much opportunity to settle down, after all..." Wanda spoke up, poofing herself back into her fairy form, though like Timmy, she wore more period-appropriate attire, consisting of a somewhat poofy, western-style dress. "Well, we're still with you, so I can only assume she'll be fine. Ready to head back to our own time, Sport?"
"Oh jeez, that's right! I'm supposed to be hanging out with Heather and Vicky today! Yeah, um… I wish we were back in my time, and my room, right after we first left!" Upon speaking the wish, the fifteen year old and his godparents disappeared in a puff of purple smoke…
In the present…
"I wish I was in Dimmsdale Flats, but a couple months after the last time!" Timmy exclaimed, his godparents' wands emitting several bright sparks, before poofing the three of them back in time.
Poof!
"Ugh..." Timmy, Cosmo, and Wanda reappeared in the brunet's bedroom, now significantly dustier than they'd been mere seconds before. Shuffling over to his bed, Timmy promptly collapsed into it with a muffled thump, and buried his face in his pillow, while his godparents transformed into their goldfish forms, and dropped into their fishbowl. "Maybe I can get a quick nap in before Vicki-"
Bzz!
"Timmy!" Cosmo suddenly appeared; now in his true, fairy form, next to his godchild, presenting Timmy's phone to him. "You have a text message!"
"Great~..." The brunet replied sarcastically, then rolled over and accepted his phone from his godfather. A quick swipe across the screen turned it on, revealing that he had a text from Vicki. "Rise and shine, Twerp." He read the text aloud, then let his arm drop to his side limply. "...Time travel sucks."
A/N2: Right, so now that that's out of the way, and I'm no longer in danger of spoiling any content in this chapter, should you wish to review, let me know if there's any interest in a fic that continues the Old West setting, as it's personally something I'd like to try my hand at, and if there's interest in the idea, I'll certainly try my best to deliver.