"Hector?"

His gaze had been focused on the melee outside, and only after she said his name did he turn toward her. It had taken Izzy's brain a second to realize who she was looking at, but sure enough there he was, tucked into the corner of the barn, his rifle cocked.

Of course he wouldn't recognize me. Izzy remembered belatedly. For him, they had never met. She was surprised at the bit of disappointment that welled up in her stomach. Her mom's words must have made more of an impression than she originally thought. All that stuff about keeping a sharp eye out and that she had seen nascent cognition in host behavior...Izzy shook her head to clear the thoughts out of her mind; she had no doubt that what her mother had seen was real, but Izzy also knew from her tour and Len's eager explanations that there were a million fail safes in place. Whatever her mom had seen decades ago was probably impossible now. The hosts were on tight reins.

"You remember me?"

Her blood ran cold. Hector's attention was riveted on her, he looked totally bewildered. His eyes darted over her features, unconcerned with the danger surrounding them.

More gunshots. It seemed like two men had spotted them, and they took cover behind the trees in the flower beds less than 20 yards away. Hector reluctantly turned his attention back to the gunmen, commenting dully, "This furor, it is all for me. I feel so special."

She smiled, despite the circumstances, before her mind was taken with more pressing thoughts. He had remembered her? How was that possible? He was reset. It occurred to her that Hector might have been simply responding to her comment; she had known his name. And like anyone else, he probably assumed they had to have been long lost acquaintances. Hosts were programmed to roll with the punches. Yes, that made perfect sense.

A bullet blew through the wooden door-frame and almost hit her shoulder. Izzy yelped and Hector fired a few expert shots in retaliation. Of course, the gunmen had already ducked back behind the decorative trees, starting the whole process of watching and waiting over again.

"Puta madre..." Hector grumbled. "You have a gun?"

"Yes, I am hiding in a barn cowering because I have a gun," Izzy retorted drily, attempting to calm her racing heart. Her snarkiness wasn't personal, that bullet seemed too real.

Hector cocked his jaw and tisked, mirroring her insufferably patronizing tone. "I find most women tend to cower in situations such as these, regardless of available weaponry."

"First of all, I'm not most women. Second of all, you need to meet more women."

He studied her for a moment, and Izzy thought she saw a hint of amusement lurking in his eyes. Turning his attentions back to the scene outside, he commented, "If I gave you a gun, would you promise to not shoot me with it?"

She nodded urgently. "Why would I shoot you with it?!" Gunshots rang out right by the barn door, indicating that more people had discovered the standoff and wanted in on the bounty. It gave the other men an opening to move closer to the barn. God dammit. Izzy tensed up. "Son of a bitch. They're all after you?"

"No. Two assholes with big mouths at the saloon have a habit of turning into ten. And there is a rather large bounty on my head. You might have been looking to cash in," he grumbled, closing one eye and picking off two less crafty cowboys who hadn't thought to find cover. Without missing a beat, he took a small pistol out of his belt holster and slid it across the barn floor. "...Buy yourself a pretty new dress."

She scoffed, picking up the gun and studying it. "For someone who just hands out guns to strangers, you are certainly antagonizing."

"Perhaps I'm a sucker for a pretty face." Hector smirked. It seemed Izzy hadn't been wrong when she guessed he was unflappable— even out-manned and out-gunned he was a paragon of ease.

Well she was certainly concerned about their current situation. Fortunately with the sun setting they might not be seen so easily in the barn, but it would be easy for someone to sneak up behind them from the other end. "You can't just kill them all," Izzy commented, staring out at the orange-red sky.

He gave her a pointed look and seemed tempted to refute that claim. "I have exceptional aim."

"Be that as it may," Izzy began. She looked him up and down with deliberation. "Unless your pants are stuffed with extra bullets, you won't have enough to murder everyone on the grounds. And if anyone is left alive, they'll know you're here and call the police—sheriff. Either way means we're fucked."

"Well what do you suggest we do?" he asked with annoyance, shoving his rifle into the holster across his back. He scooted across the doorway to stand beside her, a barrage of bullets following him. Izzy attempted to remain calm, but somehow his presence was even more unnerving than the prospect of being shot at.

He knew how he affected her. It seemed like he knew exactly how he affected ladies in general. Izzy frowned at the thought. It was probably true—cocky asshole. She was determined to not be swayed, and leveled her gaze up at him. "We make a run for it."

Hector reloaded and after a studying moment, managed to pick off another cowboy outside. Without looking at her, he responded, "Out of the barn?"

"It's getting dark. We—you might be able to sneak out the other way—head away from the racetrack. I can distract them, keep returning fire until you've had a few minutes head start," Izzy explained, fiddling with the pistol. She had gotten basic gun safety before entering the park, but was still nervous about turning it on a person.

For a moment, she thought he was going to argue. Maybe his programming wouldn't allow him to leave her in perceived danger. Maybe he thought she wasn't capable of shooting the gun. Izzy didn't know. "I have shot a gun before, I'm not a totally inept princess."

He smiled slightly in amusement. "I never said you were."

"Then what was the 'Buy yourself a pretty new dress' comment?" Izzy retorted, mocking his accent.

"Ahh, I offended you. Lo siento mucho, señorita. I should have known by your attire that you are a modern liberated woman."

She huffed at his mockingly polite Spanish. Gringo Spanish that anyone could understand. "Modern enough to save your ass. Now go. Vete ya."

Hector nodded decisively, his eyebrow raised in mild interest when she switched to Spanish. He looked around the barn aisle and whistled. Like clockwork, a big bay gelding came trotting into view, the very one she recognized pulling the safe in Sweetwater. "Santo, my trick pony."

Izzy smiled at the horse who was shaking his head up and down. "Encantada."

And just like that, they were gone with a clattering of hooves against the hard-packed dirt.

Izzy took a deep breath to recenter herself before moving back to her post behind the door frame. She leveled the gun at a body hiding behind a tree and closed one eye. The shot exploded and she heard the man cry out in pain immediately. Squeezing her eyes shut against the flood of guilt, she fired another shot, a volley were returned. The door was becoming littered with holes, but that didn't matter. What mattered was causing a distraction.

Two men were killed, but it still left one of the expert bounty hunters behind the trees and a newcomer. It felt like they just kept coming, and with a last squeeze of the trigger, Izzy realized she was out of bullets. "Fuckkk..." she mumbled, her eyes darting the barn for a makeshift weapon. It would only be a matter of moments before they knew she was out of ammunition and came to collect.

Wait. Maybe that wasn't the worst thing. It had already been a few minutes since Hector had left, and they wouldn't attack her if they knew she was by herself. This narrative thing had to be almost over by now, right? With most of the people dead and the main outlaw having disappeared? She dropped the gun and stepped into the dying light of the doorway. "It's just me! Please don't shoot!"

As she suspected, the cowboys put down their guns and the bounty hunter stepped out from behind the tree. "What you doin' there girlie? Don't you know there's a wanted criminal loose?"

"Oh, I know! That's why I was hidin' in the barn! There was so much chaos, I was so scared. I didn't know who was shooting!" Izzy faked her best southern belle, batting her eyelashes.

Naturally they fell for it. One cowboy, a young kid with dark brown hair walked up to her cautiously. "I understand, darlin', nothin' to be afraid about now. You not hurt 'er nothin'?"

Izzy shook her head with a smile, but fanned her face. "I just, I'm a little peaked."

He put a hand on her arm to steady her. She wished she knew if he was a host or a guest. She didn't want to shoot him to find out. "Of course. Let's get you back to the hotel, get some water and a place to rest."

"Why don't ya'll go get her that water. I'll escort her over in a moment."

Her eyes darted to the bounty hunter, a thin, blond man. "No it's okay..."

"I insist," he purred, walking over with confident strides. The young man seemed intimidated enough to back off and gave her a tip of his hat before retreating.

"So...darlin'…" he began. He grabbed her arm tightly and led her back into the barn. "You the one that rides with Hector?"

"No, I'm not. I don't even know him," she told him, a defiant edge creeping into her tone. She was not a fan of being manhandled.

The man kicked at the dusty ground and let out a chuckle. "You don't know him, you just helped him escape justice?"

"...wouldn't really consider a bounty hunter justice..." Izzy mumbled.

"What'd you say to me, girl?" Ah. There it was, all semblance of niceties dropped.

"I said 'I wouldn't really consider a bounty hunter a bringer of justice'." She leveled her gaze with his, wishing she had a weapon. Even just a rock would have sufficed. She was too fast to open her mouth.

He smiled, a slimy, creepy smile. And that's when she noticed something; his teeth were perfect veneers, a stark contrast to the rest of him. He was a guest. "A mouth like that is gonna get you in trouble, bitch."

Her mind went into overdrive, trying to think of a weapon. Of course, if there was a distraction she could always...

"You were looking for me, friend?"

The man wheeled around to see where the voice had come from. Without hesitation, Izzy punched him as hard as she could, causing him to cry out in pain. That was all it took for Hector to grab him, knife to throat.

"Grab his gun."

Izzy nodded and with a smirk of smug satisfaction, removed the man's belt. "We'll just take all of this."

He glared back icily and she heard him cast a muffled threat.

"A mouth like that's gonna get you in trouble, babe," she taunted.

"Should we kill you now, or leave you to bleed out? Hmm..." Hector pondered as he pressed the knife harder against the guest's throat. Izzy did notice that despite knowing he couldn't actually be hurt, the man looked terrified. Perhaps that was just the effect Hector was supposed to have on everyone in the park. He was built to be the boss villain of Sweetwater, right? You can't be an outlaw without playing the part.

And there definitely was a difference between Hector in "villain-mode" and Hector in "improv-mode".

Walking over to the closest stalls, Izzy gathered a few lead ropes off of the doors. "We should tie him up and lock him in a stall."

Hector did not seem satisfied with that suggestion. "No eres divertida de ninguna manera," he complained childishly. At a small wiggle, he reaffirmed his grip on the man, a dribble of blood appearing from under the knife.

She raised an eyebrow at him. She was no fun? She would show him fun. Holding his challenging gaze, Izzy grabbed a handkerchief from her belt and tied it around the bounty hunter's mouth. Gagged.

"Pues, es posible que tienes potencial," he conceded, helping to tie the man up. His inner villain must have been satisfied by the panic in the man's eyes as an inconsequential amount of blood trickled from his neck. They worked in silence.

"Why did you come back for me?" Izzy asked. It was only after they had saddled her horse and were riding for cover outside of Fuego Amaroso that she finally broke the impasse that had settled between them.

In the darkness, she couldn't see his expression and his tone was flippant. "Because we were not finished with our conversation."

"But the whole point was for you to escape. And you just hung out instead. Why?" Izzy pressed. She didn't know why she wanted to know so badly, it probably stemmed from her host-wariness. Techs could explain it all they wanted, but she was still a little creeped-out by the face he made, by the recognition that had been in his eyes.

There was a pause before Hector answered, a tone of grim understanding in his voice. "Because I knew what was going to happen to you once you ran out of bullets. I would have never gotten my answers."

It didn't take any actual night vision to see him appraise her. She exhaled shakily—if he wasn't a host, he really could have assaulted her. He could have claimed he thought she was a host. "Well I appreciate it. My hand hurts, but I appreciate it."

Hector chuckled. "That is quite the hook you have. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you."

He had said that to her once before, and it was an odd reminder that his dialogue was scripted. "No promises, I've punched more than three men in my life."

"More than three?"

"Less than five."

He laughed again, a genuine off-guard laugh. It was such a natural, pleasing sound. "Well I suppose a person with a tongue as sharp as yours learns to be just as quick with the punches."

"How far out do you think we have to ride before I can circle back? I can't just ditch Len at the hotel," Izzy admitted begrudgingly. A part of her wanted to just keep riding to wherever Hector was going. Although he probably wouldn't be leading her to a less shootout-prone narrative.

"You? You're not going anywhere," Hector responded evenly. The words were threatening but they were delivered without any edge.

"Excuse me? Do you want to be number five?" she quipped with a frown.

"I became distracted by those pinche cabrones, but now that there is no one shooting at me I can return to my original concern." He rode in front of her and cut her off. "You recognized me in the barn, you know who I am. How?"

Izzy's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't just a party trick, like she had hoped. He noticed her exclamation. She had no explanation for him, and her mind scrambled for some reasonable excuse for the slip.

"And before you lie or tell me you recognize me from a wanted poster, be aware that I recognized you as well. I just do not have the slightest notion why," Hector continued dryly. "It was you I was trying to find."

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He recognized her from when they had met before?! Was he glitching? Had he not been reset properly? She said nothing. What was she going to say, really?

"This is yours, is it not?" He pulled something from his belt and handed it to her. Her necklace. He had kept her necklace. The concerning realization that she was in the middle of the desert at night with a malfunctioning cyborg, who had just threatened to gut someone, smacked Izzy upside the head. Where was Len when she needed him? Oh wait...probably playing cowboy.

When she didn't respond, Hector rubbed his neck uncomfortably and cast his eyes downward. The bravado had died down. He put the key back in his belt, and as quickly as her fear had come on, a guilt mixed with it for not admitting her part in the story, for not substantiating his distress overrode it.

What would it be like to have memories you could not place? To be so sure of something, but have no evidence, because it all had been cleaned up when the curtain fell? That was one of the saddest things she had ever pondered.

Izzy couldn't hardly explain that his life was an elaborate lie and he was a robot, however. So naturally, she said the only thing she could: "It's complicated."

Understatement of the century.

"I am sure I could handle it. I just spent the night chasing after a crazy old man who told me my fortune," Hector mumbled. She was glad for the break in the tension.

"A crazy old man?" Izzy tried, but couldn't keep herself from laughing.

He shook his head slowly and her laughter continued. "It's been a tough couple days for you, huh?"

"You have no fucking idea."

It was at that point that Izzy made a decision, not allowing herself to dwell on the reasoning or possible ramifications. Only the overwhelming sympathy she felt for his situation guided her. Nodding in confirmation, she commented, "Let's head back to the racetrack. I have to go find Len, but that should only take a minute."

Hector nodded. He seemed to acknowledge this concession for what it was: "I'm not saying yes, but I'm not denying it either." And Izzy was thankful for that as they turned the horses back around.

"Oh, but Hector? Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone that we met before."

She took his silence for agreement and was glad he didn't ask any further questions about it. No doubt hosts were able to pick up on anomalies and report to the QA team, someone he thought was a friend might get him flagged and taken back to Behavior. Certainly, Len would jump at the chance to do so. He seemed to have an abnormal enjoyment of the hosts' scripted behavior. He only mentioned their loops and story lines to her a million times, and Hector already had been in trouble once since they got to the park.

No. She had to let him run his course. He would be pinned down and reset soon enough, his reins tightened once more. She sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to facilitate it.

A/N: drop me a review? :)