Short and sweet. Inspired by the occasional and hilarious cut scenes of the gang breaking Arthur and/or John out of jail throughout RDR2

Chapter 10

"Pardon the language, but you're in deep shit ma'am."

Myra laid with a wide-brim hat laid over her face. She was face-up, lying on the metal cot of a jail cell. That was, if Strawberry's 'jail' could even be considered a jail. Her parents would be so proud.

"I told you already, that man was tryin' some funny stuff in the saloon. Fate was just on my side when my horse trampled him." Myra's blue gaze slid over to the scrawny deputy, and she gave a sweet, innocent smile to go with it. "Can't I just pay your sweet self and scoot on outta here?"

"Well I'm afraid fate ain't got nothin' to do with it, Miss. I ain't allowed to let you out just payin' a bounty on a murder charge. That's a decision for the Sheriff." The deputy told her, pacing back and forth on lanky limbs. Myra paled.

She knew her face, along with most of the gangs', were sometimes recognized by Sheriffs. Normally it was easy enough to escape if they were buddied up, but Myra had ridden alone into Strawberry. She had been headed to the general store for carrots when the smell of dinner enticed her into the saloon. And, well, after that everything was just a downward spiral.

"When's he gonna be back?" Myra sat up, putting on her best sad face.

"Dawn." The deputy cleared his throat. "So, you be stayin' put for a while."

She huffed a sigh, turning it into a false sob at the end. "Lord, the boys'll be so worried."

"You got kids, ma'am?"

Myra thought of Arthur's childish habits and snorted. "Somethin' like that. They gonna be wonderin' where I'm at."

"Where you from?"

Myra sniffled, mentally kicking herself for the terrible fake sound. "Does it even matter? I ain't never gonna be able to go back." She changed from sniffling to fake-crying, holding her hands flush against her face to conceal the dry skin behind it.

The deputy stood, and Myra smirked beneath her hands. She slowly met him on the opposite side of the iron bars. Crying women always made men uncomfortable. He stood idly outside the bars, looking awfully nervous. "With all due respect, you killed someone. Gotta let it go through the proper channels of law."

When he grew close enough, Myra shot a hand through the bars and latched onto his belt. Her grip prevented the man from gripping his pistol, but he flailed like a bird tangled in a net.

"Get off'a me, woman! You gonna hang for this!" He tried to fight her off, but Myra refused to release her grip.

"Just let me outta here, you son'uva bitch!" She growled, thrusting the other hand through the bars towards the keys on his far hip.

"I ain't that dumb!" The man jerked back as far as he could with Myra's fingers curled into his belt. She leaned forward.

"Now give me a kiss, huh?" She laughed at the deputy's shocked expression.

Myra was enjoying making the skinny man struggle, and his surprise at her teasing was even funnier. She was almost successful in grabbing the keys when there was a knock on the door. Myra paused, thinking over the possibilities.

It was only seconds later, as she was thinking, the door swung open. The figure occupying the doorway was familiar, and Myra smiled. Arthur took in her position with the deputy and raised his brows. The majority of his face was concealed under a black bandanna, but the humor in his eyes was evident.

"You know, normally when ya dance you're both out of jail."

Myra scoffed, releasing the man with a shove. He immediately went for his gun but there was a revolver pointed directly between his eyes before he could move. The deputy put his hands up, looking very small beside Arthur's bear-like build.

"Don't even try." Arthur motioned with his pistol at the door. "Open it and let her out."

"Y'all are the scum of this world." The deputy accused, grudgingly releasing his keys and unlocking Myra's cell.

The blonde stepped out, twirling around to gracefully remove the deputy's pistol. She then shoved him into the cell and swung the door shut. "Sorry honey. You gonna have to wait for the Sheriff."

Myra looked at Arthur, who was gazing at her from under the brim of his hat. His eyes were ablaze with something a bit more tender but just as passionate as anger. She walked up, ignoring the deputy's eyes, and tugged his bandanna down enough so she could kiss him. It was brief and clean, but sure to make the man occupying her former cell uncomfortable. She discarded the pistol in her hand on the Sheriff's desk, pressing into Arthur's warmth until she felt satisfied.

"You ready?" Arthur asked, yanking his bandanna back up as she stepped away from him. Myra hunted around the office until she found her gun belt and personal items. She stowed everything back in its rightful place.

"Lead the way, Cowboy." Myra snuck under Arthur's arm, and the outlaw smiled underneath his mask. He pressed his covered lips to her temple, laughing lowly all the way.

"You're a real piece'a work, you know that, woman?"