A/N: Hola! I has more chapters. After this is where my writing is rocky at the moment, so I don't know how long it'll be until the next chapter, but I'll do my best! I promise! Meanwhile, enjoy and review!


Chapter 4: A Fine Day for Traveling

As habit, Jessie rose with the sun. She hadn't gotten much sleep, seeing as how she was anxious about keeping watch over her new prisoner and had stayed up late busily making preparations for travel the next day. She had never had a prisoner before. Well, maybe one or two, but never like this before. Never like him. Buzz was tough, mentally and physically. If it weren't for his bonds, he would have beat her into a pulp. That laser thing he had? It would have destroyed her.

As if on cue, her arm throbbed painfully, and Jessie touched her wound lightly, slight anger rising within her. This cowboy was smart and incredibly well-trained, that was a given... but how could he have just ignored her life like that? She knew Alliance Officials were brutal... she had first-hand experience...

It was a new wake-up call to the young Outlaw. Time didn't make people change. Cops still shot first and asked questions later. Cops still disregarded your life for the "better of peaceful human interaction." Cops still kept control at any cost necessary.

Jessie heaved a sigh, groggily walking around her hideout, blinking the sleep from her tired eyes and preparing to make coffee. She ran a hand through her undone auburn hair and mumbled useless things to herself. This was perhaps the only time of day that Jessie Albarn was not hyperactive, hence the reason she was so diligently working on making the long awaited caffeinated beverage. She boiled water over her semi-broken kerosene grill, then carefully poured it over the plastic funnel in which coffee ground and a filter sat in, and the drops of coffee fell into a large mason jar that was sitting on the other side of the grille. She inhaled the scent deeply, impatient to consume her drink.

She heard a noise from the other room as she poured the dark liquid into two chipped mugs. It appeared as though the space ranger was awake. She turned and entered the only other room of the hideout, setting the mug down on a barrel and watching her prisoner awake.

"Morning, partner!" She greeted as best she could with her fake, cheery grin. "Hope you like your coffee black."

The young man was already sitting up on the bed, scratching his head as best as he could with bound hands, yawning. He squinted at the mug, then looked at her. She saw the immediate, but almost invisible blush on his cheeks. She fidgeted, but chose to ignore him as she sat upon a separate barrel, running a hand through her long hair again. "Didja sleep alright?"

The official broke from his trance and nodded. "Yes...we all did. Myself and the numerous crawling creatures living in your bed."

She let out a small laugh, slightly surprised at his good sense of humor, but happy that he had spoken to her so easily. "Sorry about that. I keep forgettin' because I'm so used to it."

He sighed and hobbled awkwardly over to the chair, taking the coffee once he was seated. He made a face and shook his head after he took a sip. He exhaled with a whistle. "That's strong coffee." He nodded though. "Good coffee."

Jessie smiled, pleased, and sipped her drink. So far so good. She just had to keep on her toes and not let her guard down. She finished her coffee quickly and began to work on putting her hair into her normal braid. She was struggling as she did so, hissing through the pain of her wound, but she was determined to do this deed by herself. "So, I was thinkin' we'd head out within the half hour, yeah? I already packed everythin' we need, includin' the food and all. Had to get an extra horse for you to ride on, but he's a friendly fella. Also, won't be stoppin' a whole lot on the trip, so get your business done before we move, know what I'm sayin'?" When she was close to being done her braid, she looked up at him, only to find him staring once more. It was her turn to blush. "What?" He blinked, then cleared his throat and shook his head. Another moment of awkward silence, and Jessie finished her work, saying, "Well... bathroom's outside, so let's move. You ready?"

He gave her a look, then looked around the underground space, as if to say, "It's not like I had much to get ready."

Jessie couldn't help but laugh when she saw Buzz struggling to get out of the hideout. She imagined it was incredibly difficult to climb a ladder out of a small hole in his bindings. As he was nearing the top, she reached out a hand to offer him, and, after another moment of stubborn exertion, he begrudgingly caved. She took his bound hands and yanked, him jumping to help her out. Being a built man, he was heavy, and Jessie nearly flew backwards when the two of them landed on the ground outside. She let out her yodel and slapped her knee. Buzz, on the other hand, continued to grumble and scowl.

"Alrighty, partner," she said, dusting herself off. Then she unsheathed her knife, grinning evilly at him. She nearly broke her reserve when she saw how white Buzz's face went.

"Wh-what are you doing with that?"

"Oh relax. I'm only cuttin' your ties, silly space man."

Buzz was tense all throughout the cutting, especially when she reached the binds at his thighs. Yes, Jessie did contemplate being maniacal and playing a prank, or maybe even hurting him so they'd be on even terms... but she didn't. She cut everything but his hands, then helped him up, and walked over to the extra horse she has managed to borrow from Slink. A beautiful, white Fjord. "This is Buttercup."

Buzz looked incredibly awkward approaching the creature. He reached out and patted the neck, just as she was doing. "Uh... good girl?" The was a loud snort from the horse, causing Buzz to stumble back in nervousness.

Jessie was smirking. "It's a boy. And he says to be careful." Buzz looked at her like she expected; like she had five heads. She shrugged, then listened for a quick second to another snort from the animal. "Hey, be nice, or no sugar cubes for you." Instantly, the horse licked Jessie's face. She laughed and rubbed his nuzzle. "Kiss ass."

It took a moment to help Buzz into the saddle, but they got it. She whistled for Bullseye, taking only a few seconds to climb onto him, much to Buzz's jealousy. From there, she tied Buzz's bound hands to the horn on Buttercup's saddle, then tied a rope from Bullseye's saddle horn, to Buttercup's reigns.

"Buttercup's the one who's packed with all the medical needs and our clothes," she explained. "I'm the one with the food and water, understand?" He nodded. She gave him a toothy grin, donned her black, wide brimmed hat, triple checked her pistols and ammo in her pockets, and checked for her lasso in her bag.

Then they were off.

x*x*x*x

For a while in his establishment, things were relatively quiet. The Sheriff sat in the back office, the room behind the kitchen of A&B's Saloon, thinking to himself. He was going through files and blueprints and tiresome orders of the Outlaw operation, when he realized that the noise level was at a minimum. He stopped his work and held on to the moment. He breathed, and suddenly mused about his cousin...

Of course the silence didn't last. There was a loud bang, the sound of something shattering, and foul words hanging in the air, all within the span of five seconds. The normally smooth British voice sounded from the kitchen, only, at the moment, it was deep and growling.

"Damn you, misbegotten rampallian skansmates! Can you not perform the simplest actions?"

"Don't call me a skansmate!" A juvenile's voice yelled.

"Yeah, you're the skansmate!" That was a high-pitched one.

"Yeah! Skinsnake!" An identical one agreed.

"Moron, it's skansmate!"

"Don't call me a moron, sanksnate!"

An irritated British voice interjected, "You imbeciles don't even know what a skansmate is!"

There was a pause. "So? We know it's bad!"

The Sheriff sighed heavily, but pulled himself out of his chair and stuck his head out of the doorway. "Pricklepants, this had better be good!"

Everyone around had fondly deemed the head chef Pricklepants due to his uptight mannerisms, the fact that he always quoted Shakespeare, and thought he was an actor despite only being a cook in a bar. Pricklepants immediately pointed to the three 16-year-old kids (the Pea children) standing beside him. "Look at what these ruffians have done to my good dish-ware!" Indeed, there was a pile of broken plates splattered on the floor.

"Fool," Pete mumbled to his sister, Beatrice. "It's a bar. Nothing here is good dish-ware."

"What was that!"

"Uh oh, you got him all mad, Petey," Penelope said with a giggle.

The Sheriff leaned on the frame, finding the scene humorous. "And which one of you managed to break that many plates?" Beatrice pointed at Penelope, Penelope pointed at Beatrice, and Petey pointed to both of them. The Sheriff threw back his head and laughed.

"You can not simply shrug this matter off!" Pricklepants huffed. "I demand a punishment be given to these... these..."

"Snakeskans?" Penelope offered.

"Skanstates," Beatrice corrected.

"Skansmate! It's skansmate, you idiotic, barbaric-!"

"Enough!" The Sheriff interrupted, still smirking. "Pricklepants, just use the other dishes, and I'll get you some new ones tomorrow." The Peas smiled and Pricklepants scowled. "Peas, I'll be paying for new dishes with the money I'm taking out of your pay this week." A simultaneous "Aw man!" arose from the three siblings, but the Sheriff gave them a look. They closed their mouths. "What do you kids say to Mr. Prickle?"

"We're sorry, Mr. Pricklepants," the three unenthusiastically mumbled in unison.

The Sheriff nodded. "Now clean this mess up and get back to work. I'm kind of busy today, alright?"

The present company nodded and the Sheriff returned to his office. He closed the door and sank into his chair, exhaling tiredly. He really didn't want to get back to work, but being head of a highly illegal anti-Alliance operation didn't exactly pay the bills. Still, there were plans to be made, schematics analyzed, profiles inspected-

Knock, knock, knock.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, beckoning the stranger in with an annoyed call. As soon as the door opened, however, the Sheriff straightened up and held his tongue. Breathtaking turquoise eyes greeted his gaze.

"Sorry, Mr. Pride," came the angelically smooth voice of Miss Bo Peep. "Is this a bad time to take my break?"

"Not at all," the Sheriff replied with a playful leer. "Though you should know by now that Mr. Pride was my father."

The young woman batted her eyelashes as she said, "Very well then, Sheriff."

There were few things in this world that the Sheriff would kill for. Bo Peep happened to be number one. He wasn't sure if there was a prettier girl in the entire universe. She could be in her work wear, which consisted of a frontal-laced corset, a polka-dotted skirt that was short in the front, heels with even more laces, and a big feather in her braided bun, all colored pink. Or she could be in her normal long skirt, button up collared shirt, and bonnet. Hell, she could be clad in sweatpants. The Sheriff didn't care. She was, and continued to be, the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. And he liked Bo for other reasons too! Though she had the tendency to be quiet, she was quick, smart, witty. She was a constant surprise in both dealing with customers, drawbacks, and, more importantly, himself. She was kind-hearted and affectionate. Loyal, honest, mature. She was everything the Sheriff could ever want, and everything the Sheriff always needed.

No, there weren't a lot of things that would make Sheriff Woodrow Pride go off his rocker, but Bo Peep was definitely number one.

Bo closed the door behind her, sighing with relief. "It's slow as hell out there today. I'm so bored I could cry." The Sheriff stood from his chair, pulling out a handkerchief and offered her both the cloth and resting place. Seeing this, Bo laughed and waved it away, saying, "You're such a gentleman, Sheriff."

"I always aim to be, ma'am," was his reply as he sat back down and Bo walked over to his desk.

"So," she said slowly. "What kind of dastardly plans are you up to now?"

The Sheriff let out a 'hmph.' "Nothing dastardly here, Bo. Just busy work, as usual."

She nodded. "Any word from Jessie?"

He shook his head. "I was thinking of her earlier. Haven't heard anything yet, though she did say she'd only get in contact if she had problems. So I'm assuming the deal went off without a hitch." Bo gave him a look, and he shrugged. "Well... as much as things can with Jessie running around." He sighed again and carelessly moved a few papers around on his desk. "I hate work."

Bo looked him up and down, worry tainting her pretty features. "You look tired, Woody."

The Sheriff smiled genuinely at her. "Now there's a name I miss hearing."

Bo broke into a simper and walked behind his back. "What, Woody? I believe I call you that everyday."

He felt her tiny hands dig into his tight shoulders, and he began to relax. "Yeah, but it's different."

"What is?" she asked.

He chose his words carefully. "Around here, I'm always Sheriff. I'm always in command and doing the whole 'leader' thing. It's only when you and me are home; well, our little shack of a home anyway, when I can let all that go and just be normal. I'm only Woody when I'm with you, Bo."

Her slender arms slid down around his chest, and her head rested on his shoulder. "Oh, Woody," she cooed, and he felt the heat in her cheeks on his own face. "You're too much for me."

"On the contrary, ma'am," he said, reaching back to snake an arm around her waist and guide her to his lap. He looked into her eyes. "I believe you're too much for me."

Bo removed his hat and set it on the desk. Now she was just teasing him. "No, am I?"

Woody couldn't help but grin as he reached up and twirled his finger in one of her thick curls. "You're fishing for compliments now, Miss Peep."

"And what if I am?"

"Isn't there a saying that flattery won't get a person anywhere?"

"Yes... but I never said anything of that sort."

"Well then, yes. Yes, you are."

They smiled at each other, and Bo gently touched his cheek.

"Damnit all to the bloody bowels of hell!" With a bang, the door swung open and Pricklepants stormed in, followed by the Peas. "Sheriff! Sheriff! The Peas have done it for the last time!"

"It was Penelope this time!"

"It was all you, Petey!"

"I don't give a damn which one of you wretched dimwits it was!"

"Why is he always so mean to us anyway?"

"We just-! ... Oh."

It was only then did the party realize what they had walked in on. All four of them flushed red and froze. After a moment, the apologies and stammering began. Normally either Bo or the Sheriff would have blushed and stuttered and sprang away from the other, embarrassed, making awful excuses that no one ever bought. This time, though, the two lovers simply glared, unimpressed and most definitely ungrateful.

"Prickle," Sheriff said sternly, cutting off all words. "Please get out of my office."

"Yes! Yes, of course!" He grabbed Penelope and Beatrice by the ears and kicked Petey out of the room.

"Oh, and Prickle?" Sheriff called. The chef looked back. "Shut the door."

x*x*x*x

With miles of sand stretched before them, it wasn't long before Jessie was half bored to death. She didn't mind lengthy trips when she was on trains, and she actually enjoyed trips with Bullseye because they'd see how fast they could ride. This trip was different, though, seeing that they had a... vessel to haul around.

As if on cue, Buzz let out an audible sigh. He shifted in his saddle, uncomfortable. Jessie called back to ask if he was alright, and he responded with, "Am I supposed to feel this... chaffing?"

Jessie let out a snort. "You Alliance folk ain't used to riding horses, huh?"

"Will you stop saying it like that?" Buzz grumbled, annoyed. "The Alliance thing? It makes us sound like we're diseased."

"Might as well be," Jessie mumbled to herself. Then louder, "Didn't mean to offend you, partner. I mighta been a bit nicer to ya if you didn't shoot half my damn arm off." He grew quiet at that. They must've gone half an hour to forty-five minutes without speaking again.

It was hot that day, as it usually tended to be in the middle of the Wastes, which consisted of deserts, a few scant grasslands, and a mirage every now and then. The sky was open and blueish gray, and without the shade of clouds, the sun beat down on the duo. At least the breeze was plentiful and cool that day. Jessie wasn't sweating as much as she normally would under her black clothing. Another gust of wind picked up, and Jessie decided to remove her hat, letting the somewhat harsh air current whip her face. She heard Buttercup whinnying behind her. She looked back, inspecting the state of her hostage, guilt instantly flooding her senses. His cheeks were red from sunburn and lack of hydration, a few beads of sweat trickling down his face. He looked like he was getting the hang of the horse riding, but every now and then, he'd wince in pain.

Jessie shrank into herself a bit. What kind of person was she anyway? Promising to keep him alive and in good condition... and here he was... miserable. Jess turned Bullseye around, stopping Buttercup. Buzz looked at her, warily.

"I'm afraid I should apologize to you," she said, embarrassed. She began to rummage around in a bag tied to Buttercup's side. "I ain't been a good captor to ya. I'll fix it though, I swear!" Buzz watched her, too confused and shocked to try anything. She found the sunscreen spray and held her hands over Buzz's eyes, skin just barely touching skin. "Close your eyes, ranger." And she applied the lotion, spraying and then rubbing it into his face and reddened cheeks. As she was doing this, she felt the heat emanating from him. He was burning up! She gasped. "Don't go gettin' heat stroke on me now, partner! Here!" She untied one of eight canteens on Bullseye and, very swiftly, took out her knife and cut his bound wrists. She shoved the container into his freed hands, continuing to usher the drink to his lips.

There was a very brief, very awkward moment after Buzz drank where they both stared at each other, and realized that Buzz was now free. Jessie blinked, but, with the speed of lightening, sheathed her knife and brought out her gun, barrel touching the tip of Buzz's nose. He gulped, and the two stayed frozen for a minute.

"... S-sorry," she rushed, uneasy. "I wasn't... It's... just kind of a habit."

Buzz slowly lowered the canteen to his lap. "Is this, uh... mine?" Jessie nodded and he nodded to. He placed the strap over his shoulder. That was when Jessie noticed the bruises on his wrists. Acting out of instinct again, she grabbed his arm, horrified.

"Sweet honey and molasses!" Anger swelled in her stomach. "God damn the day I was ever given duct tape! If I had known my bonds were that tight... just lookit them bruises! Why, you're black and blue! If I ain't the worst kinda person..." Jessie glared at his hands, taking a moment to scold herself, but to calm down lest she slapped her own face.

Buzz took this opportunity to clear his throat. "Well... that's what bonds are meant to do."

She shook her head. "They ain't supposed to give you bruises like that."

He let out a puff of air. "I've had worse than this."

She looked up at him. "Don't make no difference."

"Are... are you serious right now?" She lifted an eyebrow, and he cringed. "That was a dumb question." He tried again. "I think you're being a little irrational. The purpose of binds are to restrain. If the binds aren't tight, they aren't doing their job. How else are you supposed to keep me in check as a hostage?"

Jessie lowered her eyes back to his wrists, letting go, but she continued drawing her fingers lightly across the damaged skin. "Those are kind words, partner, but I ain't just an Outlaw, and you ain't just an Official. You an' me are human beings, and I should treat you as such. I'm sorry, Buzz." She looked back into his eyes, determined to show this man, even if he was a cold-blooded killer, that she was not. She respected life and had no intention of treating him like an animal.

He looked completely stupefied. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water. "I-I... You... What... How...?"

Concern rose within her, and she placed her free hand to Buzz's forehead. "You're not gettin' sick, are you?" Buzz clamped his mouth shut, and Jessie wasn't sure this time if he was red because of the sunburn or because he was flustered.

Bullseye snorted and back-trotted, taking both people by surprise and jarring his owner. He bounced his head up and down, and Jessie took hold of his reigns. "Bullseye, what the devil is the matter with you?" He whinnied, and suddenly it was Jessie's turn to be flustered. "Wh-what? I was not!" He turned his head to her. "We weren't! Will you quit being such a nosy-!"

Buzz cleared his throat loudly, shutting them up. He took a moment, then said, "Since you've been honest with me, I will be honest with you. I still have a job to do, and that's to bring you into the Alliance. So, not to take out the element of surprise and all... but if you're not going to tie me up, how do you intend on keeping me in control?"

Jessie was appalled. The dynamite stick that was her short temper sparked. "What the hell are you sayin'!" He jumped a little. "Can't you just be a good little space ranger and follow me to the Sheriff's without a knock-down-drag-out?" She should have figured she wouldn't get the answer she wanted. Even after everything she had done for him, even after a sincere apology, and that talk about being humans... his reserve was still hard as steel. She should have known. She should have known that deep down inside, he was still an AER official. And once an Alliance member, always an Alliance member. The fuse to her stick ran out, and Jessie exploded. "The nerve of you! The god damned audacity! If I had acted any other way, I would expect it! But I didn't! I treated you with dignity and respect! I apologized for my screw ups! Are all you AER Officials like this? Huh? Ain't one of you got at least some smarts in ya? Or is it just you that's got no sense? I didn't have to be nice, you know! I didn't have to be civil! I didn't have to give you my bed, or getcha your own horse, or a change your clothes, or feed you! Hell, I didn't even have to give you water if I didn't want to!"

Buzz was quiet for a second, then he spoke in a quiet, but stern voice. "I never asked for your kindness, Outlaw."

She was going to kill him.

Oh, she was going to kill him!

She was literally about to cock the hammer and blast his stupid blue eyes to the back of his skull! She was ready to commit murder of the first degree for the first time in her life-!

When suddenly, everything stopped.

Bullseye and Buttercup had their ears against their necks, looking off to the left with anticipation. Jessie wasn't speaking anymore, hardly breathing. Even the buzzards had stopped crowing. Something wasn't right.

Buzz blinked, confused, and looked around, clueless. "What-?"

"Shh!" She silenced him. Everything was quiet... except for one thing. The wind. The howling wind. That's when Jessie followed Bullseye's gaze. What she saw made her stomach churn.

A wall of dust loomed over the horizon. A dark, brown, debris-filled wall.

"Ah, shit."