"Arthur!" Sam shouted as she chased Arthur through the tree line. "Wait!"
Arthur stopped walking, turned around and looked at Sam with a cold look in his eyes. "What?"
Sam paused. "I want to go back, yes, but at the same time...I don't want to go back."
Arthur blinked at her, then he chuckled. "Well, good luck with that," he spat sarcastically.
Sam glared at him. "Oh gee, thanks!"
"You're welcome!"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Arthur, stop being so fucking difficult and listen to me for a god damn minute!"
Arthur neared her and got in her face. "I'm all ears, woman! What is it?!"
Sam growled at him. "Oh, just forget it! It probably wouldn't matter to your dumb ass anyway!"
Sam turned on her heel and Arthur grabbed her, twirling her back around aggressively. "What is it?!"
"I'm not telling you now! Not when you're fucking yelling at me!"
"Oh, the hell with you then!"
"Fine!"
Arthur watched Sam storm off and he immediately regretted his words. "God dammit, Morgan, you idiot..." he said to himself. He started to go after her but then he stopped. He'd done enough damage for one night.
He sat himself down and opened a bottle of bourbon from his satchel.
Sam huffed and puffed through camp, finding another bottle of whiskey to drink. As she popped the cap and drank, John came walking up to her. "H-hey, what's goin' on?"
"Not much," she said a little too angrily.
"Jesus, sorry."
"No, no, I'm not mad at you. Sorry, John."
John grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the crate. "Well, who are you mad at?"
"Arthur," she replied before downing a bit of alcohol.
John laughed a little and nudged her with his elbow. "Wanna talk about it?"
"I guess. I told him I wanted to go back home, but lately I've been on the fence about it, and then he got mad at me and we started fighting."
John chuckled and drank. "I know exactly why he got mad."
Sam gave him a puzzling look. "You do?"
"Yeah. Arthur doesn't want you to leave."
Sam crossed her arms and blinked. "Well, this is news to me. Did he actually say that?"
"Well, no, but the way he looks at you, Sam, he just...he likes you. Romantically."
Sam scoffed. She found it hard to believe that Arthur liked her romantically. "Well he has a funny way of showing it."
"That he does." John looked behind him then back at Sam. "Do you like him?"
Sam paused with the rim of the bottle on her lips. Yes, she absolutely did, but she wasn't about to admit that to anyone but herself. "I hate him," she growled.
Now, perhaps that had been a tad too dramatic, but the alcohol was having a hold on her system, so of course she would be a bit overdramatic. And John was wise to her ruse because he shook his head with a laugh. "You know what I think? I think it's both," John said before drinking his whiskey.
"You think so, huh?"
"Yes. Abigail hates me, but she also loves me, so...I kinda get what that's like."
Sam smirked at John and sighed, trying to change the subject. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"The boy. Jack. He's yours, right?"
John spit out his drink. "Well...maybe. I dunno. Abigail says so, but...even so, I don't know how to be a father."
"Is there really any harm in trying to be?"
"Yes. Yes there is."
Sam tilted her head to one side. "How so?"
"Well, what if I screw up?"
"You'll never know until you try, John."
John nodded and pointed a finger at her. "You make a valid point." The two clinked their bottles together and drank. "So, you and Arthur..."
"Ugh, can we not talk about him anymore, please? The thought of him makes me wanna hurl right now."
"What's that?"
Sam waved him off with a giggle. "Nevermind."
John and Sam went and joined Bill at a table where the two men engaged in a funny conversation. By this point, Sam was hammered and hadn't been paying attention for most of it.
Bill cackled in delight. "And the...the funny thing is, John...I...no. No, hey. Hey, hey...the funny thing is, is...'cause...funny thing is I forgot what I was gonna say."
All three of them burst out into drunken laughter. "You're right," John laughed. "That is funny."
"So? You s-say something. Say something, go on," Bill said, motioning his beer bottle at John.
"Say what?"
"Hmph, I don't know? Just go, say anything. Sam! You say something!"
"Me?" Sam asked, motioning to herself.
"Yes! Say anything!"
Sam took a drink of whiskey. "Anything! There, I said it!"
John started laughing his ass off, as did Bill, but then Bill quieted down. "I don't...I don't get it."
Sam giggled and leaned over a bit. "You told me to say anything, so I said anything. Like, I said the word anything, man."
John was still in a fit of giggles but Bill just stared at Sam, drunk and dumbfounded. "I still don't get it."
Sam snickered and leaned back with a laugh. "Alright, look. If you had told me to say something, I...I woulda said the word something."
Bill seemed to mull this over for a moment, then his eyes went wide and he burst out laughing. "Oh that's a good one!"
The three giggled and snickered a bit more, and Sam took a drink. "Okay, John. Your turn."
"To what?" he asked.
"To say anything. Something. Go on."
"Anything."
The two men laughed and Sam shook her head in humor. "No, man, we already did that. Just say...whatever."
John chuckled and looked at Bill. "Alright, alright. Bill...you're pretty drunk. And you're a...funny fella. But...you're okay!" John said, emphasizing his point with a finger.
Bill put his bottle down. "Well, you're not..." Bill looked around. "Everyone thinks that you're Dutch's pet."
"His pet?"
Bill burped. "Yep. Like a dog, or a cat. You're his favorite!"
Sam suddenly felt a little uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. "Favorite? People care about that?"
"Sure. I mean it's...s-some do. A few people," Bill said, taking a drink.
"Who?"
"Ionno. I don't know. Well, me. Or not me. Maybe me. I don't, ah shit. I don't know. I mean, like, hey, hey, it's like...okay. I love liquor. I love liquor. But liquor...don't love me."
John suddenly broke out laughing. "I know what you mean!"
All three of them laughed hard and Sam took one last sip of her bottle before standing up. "I'm gonna...gonna go find-"
"Pathetic!" Abigail said by Sam's side.
"Woa, where'd you come from?" Sam asked.
The men started giggling as Abigail glared at her, then back at the two men. "Genuinely pathetic," Abigail said before walking off.
"C'mere, my sweet!" John yelled.
Sam scowled, now being in a bad mood. "What the fuck is her problem?"
"Oh damn," John laughed as music started playing.
Sam stumbled away from the table to go find some beer. When she found it, she opened the cap and started drinking. As she was finishing the bottle, she spotted Arthur coming out from the tree line and he looked drunk out of his gourd. Sam looked away and staggered quickly over to her tent. She was done drinking for the night. When she got in she immediately passed out.
Sam had a dreamless sleep and when she woke up the next morning, she had a splitting headache. Oh, she was so hungover. She needed food. A loud groan escaped her as she sat up, massaging her temples to rub away the throbbing pain. She climbed out slowly and covered her eyes from the bright sun. As she made her way over to the breakfast pot, Sam saw Arthur getting himself some food and she growled to herself. Nope, not dealing with that right now. She turned around and almost walked right into Charles.
"Oh, sorry Charles," she said.
"It's fine. You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just very hungover."
Charles laughed a little. "I bet. You really drank a lot last night."
"Yeah, so did everyone else."
Suddenly she smelled smoke and pine and Sam felt her whole body clench up. "Miss Burke," Arthur said behind her in his low, baritone voice.
Sam closed her eyes, groaned internally, opened them, then turned around to face Arthur. "Mr. Morgan."
"I uh, ahem...Charles, would you excuse us for a minute?"
Charles walked off with a smirk on his face as Arthur held up a cup of coffee. Sam looked at it and blinked. "For me?"
"Think of it as a peace offerin'."
Sam smiled a little and took the cup. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Neither one of them looked at each other directly, and to Sam, it felt awkward. She took a drink and broke the silence. "I'm sorry I-"
"I wanted to say-" They both chuckled after interrupting one another. "You go ahead."
Sam sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"Me too." Sam took another drink of coffee and finally made eye contact with him. "I was wonderin' if we could start the conversation over. I have questions, well..." Arthur looked around and leaned in close. "About the future."
Sam nodded. "I suspect you do, Mr. Morgan."
Arthur held out his arm. "Will you take a ride with me?"
Sam smiled and finished off her coffee before linking her arm in his. They headed over to their horses Boadicea II and Orion. Arthur helped Sam mount up and she was grateful for it. As they both trotted out of camp, Arthur started asking questions about her time. Sam told him about cars, airplanes, cell phones, the internet, computers, fashion, culture, but mostly he asked about how civilization was. It had succeeded and he seemed a bit perturbed by that.
"Oh, it's not that bad. At least not to me, but there's still plenty of areas where you're free to roam in the wilderness. A lot of areas are protected by the government. They're called national forests," Sam explained.
"Why are they protected?" he asked.
"Because, well, humans keep expanding. And expanding means clearing out forests and such to make room, so the government protects places where people aren't allowed to do that."
"I see. And...you want to go back to all that?"
"Yes...and no."
"No? Why?"
Sam slowed her horse down as they approached a river. "Thing is, I don't really have much to go back to other than my best friend Tiffany. She must be worried sick about me. But...all my family members are dead and buried, I work a shitty ass job, and if I'm being honest, 1899 is a hell of a lot more exciting."
"Huh. Well, then don't go back."
Sam chuckled. "It's not that simple. There's nothing for me here, really. And I'm no outlaw." Sam noticed the sad look on Arthur's face and decided to change the subject. "So, that guy you went to collect a debt from...what was his name again?"
"Thomas Downes."
"Right. So? How did that go?"
Arthur let out a sigh. "Not well. He didn't have any money worth givin'."
"Did you beat him?"
Arthur looked at her, pausing his horse. Sam halted her own as she looked at him. "Well, he did try to hit me, but...no. I didn't beat him. Didn't get anywhere near him, really. Just told him and his family that we wasn't their idea of charity and to get us the money."
Sam smiled and put a hand on his. "I'm proud of you, Arthur."
Their horses scooted closer and neighed as the two looked in each other's eyes. Their fingers intertwined unconsciously and they moved closer. "Are you now?" he asked.
"Yes. Beating people up for money, well...fuck that noise."
Arthur laughed. "What's that mean?"
"It means, um, screw that."
Arthur laughed again. "You make me laugh, Miss Burke."
"I'm glad I do, Mr. Morgan."
They both looked down at their connected hands and she smiled. "We always find ourselves touching hands, I've observed."
"Sam..." Sam felt a hand lift her chin and she glanced at Arthur with a smirk. "Do you really want to go back?"
"Yes, but there's one thing that's making me want to stay."
"And what's that?"
Sam searched his face, studying every piece of it. Every wrinkle, every part of his complexion, every inch of his expression, wanting to memorize his face in this moment. They leaned in close, their lips a hair breath's apart, when Sam heard the voice behind them.
"That there's Arthur Morgan, one of Dutch's boys! Let's get 'im!"
Arthur pulled out his revolvers and started shooting as Sam ducked in her saddle. She covered her ears and screeched as she heard a man grunt and fall to the earth. The others followed suit quickly, hoof beats pounding away from the two, and just like that, it was over. Sam kept herself down even when Arthur attempted to make her sit upright.
"Sam? Sam, are you hurt?" he asked in a panicky voice.
"No," she replied, eventually sitting up very slowly. She turned her head, saw the dead men on the ground and gasped, covering her mouth. "You killed them."
"It was them or us. Are you okay?"
Sam didn't know if she was. They'd just been involved in a firefight and Arthur had obviously won, but this was not something she was desensitized to. She looked at Arthur with a horrified expression. "No." Her eyes drifted to his arm and she saw blood. "You're hurt."
Arthur looked at his arm and blinked. "Oh. Yeah, heh, just a scratch, I think." Sam sat up straight and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Woa, hey, what you doin'?"
"I want to see if it's just a scratch."
Arthur chuckled and relaxed. "Okay." Sam got his shirt open and she immediately paused once his chest and abdomen were exposed. Arthur was one sexy man. And his body hair added to the fact. The man was built more than Sam could have guessed and it made her pulse harden. Sam swallowed hard as her pupils dialated and her heart raced. "Sam?"
Sam looked at Arthur's face. "Yes?"
Arthur cocked his head to the side. "You're uh...starin' at me."
Sam immediately blushed and let go of his shirt. "I'm sorry, I...I kinda forgot what I was doing, excuse me. Ahem."
She pulled back his shirt and bit her lip, exposing his muscular arm. This man was a physical God in her eyes. When Sam saw there was very little blood to the rather small wound, she relaxed in the saddle and let go of his shirt.
"See?" he said. "Nothin' to fuss over." They kept still for a few moments before Arthur started buttoning up his shirt. "We should head back, I think, before any more O'Driscolls men show up."
"How do you know they were O'Driscolls?"
"Oh, they're pretty plentiful in these parts," he replied, finishing up his shirt.
Sam was sad to no longer see his bare skin. "Well, we better be off, then."
Sam turned Orion around and started galloping away. Arthur followed closely behind her. When they reached the outskirts of camp, Arthur stopped Sam. "Hey, thank you for checkin' my arm," he said with a soft smile.
Sam grinned at him suggestively. "Yes. Your arm."
She could have sworn she saw Arthur blush a little. "Yes. Although the way you was lookin' at...other things, well, made me..."
"I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable with me...oggling you like I was. I'm sorry," Sam said, covering her face. Now she was embarassed.
"No need to apologize. I didn't mind the...ogglin'."
Sam opened up two fingers to peek at him. "You didn't?"
"No. Actually I..." Arthur bowed his head, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes. "I rather enjoyed it. It's been a while since I been looked at that way."
Sam giggled and removed her fingers, raising a brow at him. "Well, in that case, you should make more opportunities to get oggled at."
Arthur smiled at her. "Like what?"
Sam grinned before getting off her horse. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
Arthur dismounted and they both walked the rest of the way up to hitch Boadicea II and Orion to posts. Sam and Arthur parted ways and Sam decided to go help with some chores. She asked Miss Grimhaw for nothing heavy, as her wounds were still bothering her, so Miss Grimshaw told Sam to make due with some laundry. As Sam went to scrubbing some of the men's clothes in water, she heard a gasp from Mary-Beth and she glanced up at her worriedly.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
"Look," was her only response.
Mary-Beth pointed across the way and Sam followed her line of sight. When she saw what Mary-Beth was looking at, her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. Arthur was chopping up wood without a shirt on. Sam dropped the clothes automatically as she stared at him. Arthur and her caught each other's eyes and she watched him smirk before looking away.
"Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker..." Sam uttered.
