A/N: I'd just like to clear up one important thing before anyone continues: yes, there's the use of a derogatory slang word for the Native Americans in this - redskins.

The primary reason being that this is a fic set in the Southern United States in the latter half of the 1800's, in which such talk would be quite usual, especially in such places as the ones featured in this fic. The only reason I use this is to solidify the fact that this is set in the past, and my goal was to aid with 'immersion' into the 'real world' in this fic.

If this does in-fact strike someone as 'offensive' and would like to inform me of such for any reason whatsoever, then please simply PM me about it.
I hope it won't come to that but I really do want this fic to be enjoyable!

With this hopefully cleared up and out of the way, onwards to Chapter 4!


Erron Black was left entirely clueless about this woman who'd decided to shoehorn herself into his day. First pestering him, then following him, and then completely changing face and defending him - he didn't want to call it that, but that was an awful lot what it looked like from an outside view. He'd need a good drink when he got the chance. This woman was not wrong in her claims that she wasn't from around here... in fact, he'd never seen anyone quite like that in all his years he'd been in this business. When the outlaw's dumbshit leader was taunting her, he could see why he'd think to call her 'princess'. She certainly acted like she was entitled to something he didn't give a damn about. Though he had to admit, seeing a woman kick their sorry asses was probably the highlight of his day, aside from getting paid. It wasn't something you saw everyday, that's for damn sure.

As the woman - Tanya, she called herself - awaited his answer he still neglected to give, she went to retrieve the cloak she'd tossed off before the kicks were doled out. Kicks... besides that knife she'd pulled from nowhere, she'd taken the outlaws on barehanded, not a single sign of hesitation or fear while she did. That struck him as a sign of experience. You don't hesitate in a fight like that. You hesitate - you get shot, and you probably die. She held up the cloak between her thumb and middle finger and cringed as she gave it a look-over. Yeah. Definitely spoiled at some point in her life. Only the rich acted in such a way, and they were pretty damn few and far between, especially out in these parts. Though he honestly could give less of a shit about her and her so-called plight, he had to admit - albeit begrudgingly - he was a little curious as to where she came from. It wasn't easy to just stumble into a place like they were when they first spoke, it was pretty far off the beaten-trail and she even told him herself that she'd had no idea where to go. That is, if she was even speaking the truth. Could be a gypsy for all he knew. But that wouldn't make sense... the garments she wore looked quality and well-made. Silk, if he had to take a wild guess. He'd seen enough silk on dresses and skirts to know what it looked like. No... she was something else. 'Better stay wary of that one...'

She'd thrown the cloak back over her shoulders after giving it a vigorous shake to be rid of most of the dirt that had gotten on it, and looked at him expectantly, "Well? Shall you hear what I have to say this time? Or will you insist on walking away again?"

There was that haughty attitude again. He found himself scowling of his own accord as he responded, "Fine. But I better be gettin' paid for this."

She gave him an incredulous look, as if he'd grown a second head, "Pay you? I just went to the trouble of doing your dirty work. Consider this you paying me in return, bounty hunter."

Sounded about as stingy as the man he'd just killed for was. 'Keep it clean. No witnesses, no unnecessary deaths. You know how it should be done.' Sure he did, but the man insisted on repeating everything anyway, as if he were new to this. What a pain in the ass, "Look, lady. I don't know what more you want from me-"

She wasn't having any of that, oh no, "I need help. I haven't the faintest idea where to begin my search because I know nothing of this... place. But that's where you come in."

She must be joking, "So let me get this straight. You need to find something... but you don't know what that is or where it could be?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I know it sounds complicated, yes. I- well..." She hesitated. That woman had never hesitated before in her life, from how frustrated she seemed about it, "It's hard to explain. I need time to think of how to word it so you'll understand."

A jab at his intelligence. She did like to use big words to make other people feel inferior, it seemed. What in the world was he getting himself into? "As agonizing as I'm sure that is for you, I won't help unless I get paid." He had his rules, and he wasn't budging from that for no one.

The woman gave a long stare at the men who were now proceeding to get back up after their beat-down, her expression unreadable as usual. The cowards could've easily attempted to attack them again, though all it took was one look at him and the weapons he was back in possession of for them to reconsider and pick 'living' over 'dying'. If he was the casual conversationalist some associates of his were, it'd be quite the tale to tell over a drink or two. Several minutes had passed until he decided that she wasn't going to answer him at all, "Listen lady, I don't work for free. You want to take up my time for you? I need payment to make it worth my while."

"Regrettably, I do not even know what is used as currency here." She smiled wryly.

Ah. That explained the hesitation, "Tough luck then." He turned to leave yet again before adding, "Feel free to find me once you have some money to show for it, though." With that he tipped his hat and made to leave.

She wasn't having any of it though, "Bounty hunter, you owe me!"

He didn't owe her nothing. He chose to ignore her, but she persisted, "Would gold make up for it? Is that what you want?"

Gold? Gold was worth a pretty penny nowadays, wasn't it? He stopped and turned towards her, "Go on."

She held her arm out to reveal the several metal bands coiled around her forearm. Yeah, that looked like gold alright. She didn't seem happy about it though, "If I have your word you'll help me, I'll give you these to do with as you please. This is all I have to offer, however."

He thought about it for a moment. This woman seemed proud and selfish... this was meant to be interpreted as a sign of her 'goodwill'. But did he actually want to put up with her for however long it took? Sure the money from the right buyer would make the amount of time worth it. But this woman was too full of herself, yet he didn't want to double-cross her either, though the thought crossed his mind.

It was gold after all.

Just as she began to lower her arm when she assumed she was going to be declined, he intervened, "It'll do."

As she gave him an impish smile and removed the elaborate armband to give to him, he instantly got a bad feeling in his gut.

He was going to regret this, he was almost certain of it.

He went to take the valuable from her before she suddenly pulled it back to throw in one last comment, "Do not misunderstand me. This does not make us friends, bounty hunter. I am doing this to get back to my own realm. Nothing more, nothing less."

Friends. How stupid did she think he was? "Have it your way."

He insisted he get his payment in 'actual' currency before actually helping her with... whatever it was she wanted help with. He honestly didn't care, now that he was going to be compensated for it. He brought the valuable, winding band of metal to a smith in the town. Though it was a pretty seedy place, the man was not enough of an idiot to try anything funny. Most knew who he was in these parts. He wasn't concerned.

The woman seemed to blanch when the gold was getting melted down - Black had insisted he do so to make sure it wasn't a fake. If it had really meant that much to her, she shouldn't have offered it to him. Simple as that.

After some time of processing, he finally received his payment - a rather hefty bag of gold coins. His favourite way of getting paid. The smithy had taken some of the value and kept it for himself, to be expected for his services. It was only after they'd left did he realize he'd actually been stung too harshly for it. Looks like he'd be paying him another visit when he was done.

When he'd made a sudden turn towards the saloon, Tanya protested - and he internally cringed for he knew that's what she'd do, "Where do you suppose we're going?"

This woman asked too many questions, "We're not doin' anythin' substantial this late in the day. I'm gettin' a drink before restin' up for the night."

Obviously that wasn't what she wanted to hear, "I did not pay you to sit around and drink the night away, bounty hunter."

"Look lady, I don't know 'bout you, but I don't exactly feel like runnin' out there in the middle of the night beggin' to be robbed or shot. Or worse. Bandits and redskins move at night."

"I didn't think you were afraid of such things."

He laughed - short and bitter like a bark, "Not so much 'afraid' as 'I'd rather not find my head on a spear in the mornin'. It's just common knowledge."

Her face scrunched up, "Well I would much rather not spend another moment in this place, if I can help it."

Yep. There was the regret creeping up on him.

"Alright, princess, " This earned him a scathing glare, "What would you suggest we do then?"

"Compromise."

He rolled his eyes. He wasn't exactly a man of faith, but he wished God would just strike him down right now if he could, "Fine. If we move now, we can make it to the next town before dark. Only a couple miles from here... it'll be more to your liking."

"I agree with this plan." She gave him a haughty look, "Shall we?"

"Ladies first."

The way she turned on her heel and began walking away was by far the most conceited movement he'd witnessed.

This is exactly why he never listened to those unwritten rules about minding one's language or behaviour towards women. They were just going to be nasty either way. Yet here he was, taking orders from one. He must be going soft. That, or he was going to lose his mind.

The latter seemed very likely.