Dusty woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. She was freezing cold, warmed only by the body next to her. She tried to blink the light from her eyes so she could focus on where she was, and after a few minutes the world became clear again.
And then she remembered.
She tensed slightly, trying not to move as she listened to him breathing, his arm draped lazily around her, the sheets pulled up over them both just barely.
Oh god, what the fuck did I do?
She swallowed, moving just slightly to get a view of his face. Fast asleep, some circles under his eyes, his lips just barely parted and face turned on an angle away from her. She was comfortable next to him, but she was afraid of what he'd think or say when he eventually woke up. She thought about leaving, but then she wondered if that would make it worse. She thought about just trying to go back to sleep, but between the rush of anxiety and that pounding, horrible hangover, she figured that would be impossible.
After a few more minutes of silent and still deliberation, she decided to go make some coffee. If he woke up before she finished, well, at least there'd be a cup ready to wash the hangover away with, and if he was still asleep by the time she was done, then even better. She was sore and tired, her joints aching with every movement, a combination of the mission from yesterday and her body's poor coping with alcohol.
She started up the coffee pot, tugging a blanket from his couch and wrapping it around herself, looking over the mess of clothes all over the floor.
Lee stirred when he felt her leave. It took him a second to recall everything, but when he did, he felt his heart crash and burn. He felt, in that moment, that he had fucked up beyond repair one of the last good things in his life. Part of him wanted to jump up and run after her, and another part of him just wanted to sleep and pretend it didn't happen or that he couldn't remember it. It was hazy, sure, but he knew it was Dusty and him. And, god, the pleasure- he had never felt that way about anybody he'd ever been with, not even with Lacy. He remembered that part as clear as day. The way she looked, the way she moved, everything about them both together- the thought made his heart flutter and tighten.
He heard some shuffling in the kitchen and could smell the coffee beginning to brew. He was confused, but he decided to keep his eyes closed, arms and legs splayed out just as he had woken up. He was acutely aware of every little thing. He could even hear the tapping of a teaspoon against a cup- Dusty mixing in her milk and sugar. He wondered- hoped, even- that she would come back and not take off. He'd never forgive himself if he messed all of that up, especially after how amazing last night was. He just tried to focus on breathing and listening, until eventually he heard her footsteps near his bedroom door.
She placed two cups of coffee on the nightstand next to his bed, gently crawling back beside him, spreading the blanket she had from the living room over the both of them. He felt the gentle shift of the mattress beneath him, and then her soft, cool skin just against his. She looked down at his face, carefully running her fingers over his growing stubble. She had the urge to kiss him, so she leaned forward and pressed a soft, barely noticeable kiss to the edge of his lips, unaware that he was awake. He stirred slightly, taking the opportunity to wrap his arm back around her. She couldn't help but smile to herself, cuddling in next to him, tracing circles on his chest.
After a few more minutes he turned, opening his eyes and squinting against the light breaking through the curtains. He looked down at her with a yawn, her body curled up against his and wrapped in his blanket, the bitter smell of coffee filling the room. He knew that if he could pick one moment to relive for the rest of his life, that would be it.
She looked up at him, eyes cautious but happy. He couldn't help but smile, rubbing his fingers along the length of her back.
"Hey," he said, his voice a morning whisper. He pulled his other hand over to brush some hair out of her face before he tugged some more of the blanket over himself.
"Hey," she said, returning his smile, lifting her hand to press it against his cheek, her thumb toying with his stubble. "I made you some coffee."
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a bit uncertain and cautious, but she sunk into him, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath.
"Thank you," he said.
They both just laid there like that for a little bit, her curled up against him in his arms, him looking down at her. They were both tired and felt like crap, but just being there in that moment like that seemed to be okay- seemed to make it okay.
"I-" she tried, pressing her lips together, "I have a horrible headache."
He laughed weakly, tracing her skin with his fingers. It sent chills down her spine. "So do I," he said, "I guess we really uh… got carried away last night."
She lifted herself up and looked down at him, longing to press a kiss to his lips. He looked back up at her, his eyes soft and content. Something about his look told her it was all going to be alright.
"You're okay?" She asked, just to be sure, looking between both of his eyes.
He nodded. "I'm excellent," he said, holding her there, just enjoying the view.
"Good," she said, pressing her forehead against his. "I'm okay, too."
He smiled and closed his eyes. She didn't even realize she was moving closer to him until her lips touched his, and he tiredly returned the kiss. She smiled against him, making him laugh a little. Embarrassed, she buried her face in his neck, taking in the warmth of his body in the morning. She pulled her hands in to cover her face, her cheeks hot. He held her there, his hands gentle and strong, just letting her be. They were both floating on that morning after cloud, heads heavy and body's sore.
"I should take a shower," he said, drawing in a deep breath, his fingers still lazily tracing her back.
She pulled the blanket off of him and wrapped it around herself, covering her chest as she sat up. He watched her, smirking as he saw her flushed cheeks, and she let her shoulders drop, reaching for his coffee and holding it in her hands for him.
"Black," she said, waiting patiently as he grunted and sat himself up against the wall, pulling the sheets over himself just a bit more. He took the cup from her hands and sipped it. She reached for her own cup and held it under her nose, closing her eyes.
"Good for hangovers, huh," Lee said.
"Something like that," she said, finally taking a sip with a sigh. "I find there's really no way to get rid of a hangover unless it's with some more vodka. Counter productive, though."
Lee chuckled and placed the cup down on his night stand before propping himself up, running his fingers down her arm, a soft touch, but still enough to keep her tethered to earth. She put her cup down and reached out to him, tracing an old scar that went across his chest. He watched her eyes follow it, her fingers directing her sight.
"Somebody should teach you how to fight," she teased, looking over the little marks she hadn't really noticed before this morning, "you're covered in scars."
"Old scars," he corrected, "nothing new."
She scoffed, shaking her head, still exploring his skin.
"This one is long," she said over a yawn, running her fingers over his stomach.
"From a while ago. Was up against three guys, two of them grabbed me by either arm and the third one went to try and gut me. I got a few good kicks in before Barney showed up and saved my ass."
She laughed, dragging her fingers up to his shoulder, a little patch of scar tissue under her fingertips.
"This one?" She asked.
"Got grazed pretty good right there. We were exchanging fire, thought we got them all, and then one guy sent out a few shots."
She ran her hand down his arm and traced his expendables tattoo before moving on to a smaller, thinner scar along his forearm. She looked up at him.
"I was ten," he said with a smile, "broke my arm trying to show off. Had a rod put in it."
She chuckled, closing her hand around his and finding his eyes. He smiled back at her, scanning her face and neck, and reached out his hand to gently rub her skin. He had never really thought about it, but he was amazed at how free of injury she was. She had some marks, but she healed pretty well.
"Can I?" He asked, dipping his fingers just under the blanket, looking up to find her eyes.
She swallowed, nervous, but eventually nodded and let the blanket fall from her chest as he studied her. He traced his hand along her collarbone and down her ribs, eventually settling on the pink scar from where she had been stabbed. He rubbed it gently with his thumb and shook his head.
"Was in the jungle," she said, stealing his attention, trying to drive away that sad look in his eyes, "getting ready to blow up this drug lord's hideout. I got my whole team in, and was almost done with my charges, when this big guy comes out of nowhere. One of his friends comes to join us, and I take them both. All my gear had gotten away from me in the fight, and in one of the exchanges, this guy stabs my own knife through my gear but I don't even feel it. I run out of there like a bat out of hell, and I'm all fine until I get on that rust bucket Barney calls a plane."
A smiled played at his lips and she sighed, placing her hand over his on her waist. After a moment he ran his fingers along her skin and stopped at her belly button and she laughed.
"Thirteen," she said, "snuck out of the house with some friends and got piercings."
He raised his eyebrows, almost blushing.
"You had a belly button ring?" He asked, taken aback.
"Oh yeah, and I would've done my nipples, too, if my dad hadn't found out."
Lee laughed and wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She took his head in her hands and sighed, leaning into him, her forehead touching his.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower," Lee said, pulling away a bit before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She watched as he stood, his back stretching in the morning glow through the curtains. She smiled to herself, pulling the blanket around her shoulders and sighing into daylight.
She heard the water start, the door to the bathroom half opened. She was floating in this weird limbo, where last night was still fresh and she was still completely in it, hangover and all. She wondered what it would be like after she left, or on a job, or even with all the other guys. Would it be awkward? Would it mess things up? She didn't want it to, and in the moment, she was pretty sure she could stay like that with him forever and just find a way to make it work.
After a minute of getting lost in thoughts about what-if's she dropped the blanket and stood, a sudden chill enveloping her as she hurried over to the bathroom. It was filled with steam and smelled of Lee's soap; something forest-y with a hint of cologne. She pulled back the door to his shower and stepped in, taking him by surprise.
"Joining me?" He asked, eyebrow raised, blinking the water out of his eyes to look at her.
"It's lonely and cold out there," Dusty said, memorizing the smile lines on his face and the color of his eyes, just incase. "Let me help you."
She took the soapy rag from him and ran it along his chest. He looked down at her, watching her intently the entire time, as she focused on his scars again. His chest rose with every breath he took, the soap rinsing off of him just as fast as she covered him with it. It was warm, and her chest felt full standing there with him.
He took the rag from her and ran the soap over her body. It was relaxing, just being there. Still, the anxiety she was feeling was creeping into every thought, every movement. After a second of standing there, she placed herself against his chest and closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his middle. He seemed confused, his arms hovering around her for a second before they settled against her back.
"You okay?" He asked, holding her a little tighter.
"Are you worried?" She asked, unmoving, watching the water drip down his arm.
"Not right now," he said, pulling her back. "Right now it's okay. Are you okay?"
She looked up at him, thinking over everything for a second. She certainly felt okay- more than okay- in that moment with him. She nodded, and he smiled, one hand reaching up and cupping her cheek. He hesitated for a split second, and she smiled, and then his lips locked with hers.
Things could be messy later. All the drama, the chaos, the explaining- it could wait. Right then, in that second, life made sense.
—-
They were curled up on his couch, watching some movies and not really talking when his phone rang and he muted the sound of the TV. She sat up, watching him with a faint smile across her face as he held it up to his ear.
"Barney," Lee said, glancing over to Dusty, and she held back a laugh. She didn't want to imagine what the guys would say, and considering they had all left before her and Lee had the night before, nobody would really know.
"I'm alright," Lee said, sitting back a little with a shrug, "went a little overboard last night, but that could be good I suppose."
He winked over at Dusty and she looked away, trying to hide the heat that spread across her face.
"Yeah, I can head over. Just give me a little bit."
He hung up the phone and looked over at her, pulling her over to his lap and laughing. She laughed back, shaking her head.
"What is it?" She asked, straddling him, scratching his stubble with her thumbs.
"Barney got another job offer. Gotta look it over."
"Does he want the whole team?"
"Don't know," Lee said, "but you should come."
She sunk in on herself. If she went, if she left, then the happy little bubble they were both hiding away in would burst.
"I don't think we should… make anything obvious right now," she said, careful to take in his reaction as she continued. "I just think it would be for the best to keep things separate from work."
"If that's what you want," he said, lifting her up and pulling her into a tight hug, her legs slipping from around him to the floor. She was wearing a big old shirt of his, most of her clothes still scattered around his house.
"I need to get those clothes together," she said, frowning, "we should… do this again."
He let her pull away from him a bit, his hands still firmly on her waist. "How about dinner?"
"I'll be around," she said, standing up straight and kissing his cheek. The entire day after that morning was calm and nice. He made a small breakfast, which was more of a late lunch, considering the time they had woken up, and they sat in the kitchen and talked. She talked about the jobs she'd been on, life outside of work (what little there was), and just little things here and there that made them both happy. Then they settled with some blankets on his couch and flipped through some channels until they found some old movie reruns, and they both just laid there on top of each other until Barney called. The sun was setting already, a faint orange glow cast over his apartment. It brought a little bit of life to everything.
She collected her clothes and hurried to the bathroom, shaking them out and tugging them on. They were cold, and kind of sticky, and she felt gross pulling them on around her. She was also a bit sad to take off Lee's shirt. It was a long sleeve shirt, soft with some worn out holes in some places, and it smelled like that spot in the crook of his neck. She pressed it to her nose and drew in a long breath, closing her eyes to bask in the day one last time. Lee knocked on the door and she put the shirt down on the counter, pulling it open.
"Yeah?" She said, tying her hair back.
"Just letting you know I'm ready to go," he said, "it's a bit chilly out. Do you want my jacket?"
"What'll they say?" She asked, concerned about the jokes and the teasing, knowing full well she wasn't a great liar when it came to her friends.
He shrugged. "Let them talk. We don't have to tell them shit," he joked, "and anyway, we're riding up together as it is. I'll just say you were hungover on my couch all day. They'll believe that."
She grimaced and he laughed, knowing full well that he was right. They would believe she had been passed out all day on Lee's couch probably more than anything else at this point. Dusty liked to party a bit too hard, so showing up after a night of fun with nowhere else to go wouldn't be unheard of, especially because Lee lived the closest to the bar.
"Fine," she said, picking up his shirt. "Then I'll wear this too."
He raised an eyebrow and watched as she tugged the tank top off, replacing it with the shirt he had given her. She took his jacket from his hands and pulled it over top of that, laughing a little bit at how awkwardly it fit.
"Looks good," he said, his voice faint and low, a tiny smile creeping up on his face. "What're you gonna say when they ask?"
"Had a wild night with some guy," she said, stepping closer to him, "really needed to get out of those clothes. You lent me some, and I slept for fifteen hours straight in your living room. Maybe you thought you'd bring me home, but instead you just let me sleep and went about your day. I only woke up because you got a call from Barney. I'll be real grumpy."
He tucked a free hair behind her ear and smiled.
"Showtime, then," he said, leaving the bathroom. She followed, breathing in the smell of his leather jacket combined with his old shirt. There was the faint remainder of cigar smoke and his cologne, just enough to surround her without it being overwhelming.
—-
He pulled up to the garage on his bike, Dusty sitting on the back of it. They glanced at each other through the helmets as he made for the door, tugging his off.
"Barney, I'm here," he shouted, setting his helmet down near the front. She pulled her helmet off and put it down next to his, shaking out her hair and yawning. She heard Tool's tattoo gun going and she remembered her plan to the get the Expendables logo branded on her skin. She giddily hurried over to Barney, Tool, and Lee. The rest of the team wasn't there.
"Where the hell did you come from?" Barney asked when she walked by, looking her up and down suspiciously.
"Kid was knocked out on my couch," Lee grumbled, turning his attention back to Barney. "I thought this would be a team thing."
"You're telling me he woke me up for nothing?" She complained, looking around.
Barney rolled his eyes and continued his conversation with Lee.
"Hey, Tool," she said, stealing his attention. "Wanna give me some ink?"
He looked her up and down. "Big man finally letting it happen?"
"Hell yeah," she said, slipping out of Lee's jacket and laying it down on the table, rolling up his baggy sleeve. She gave her forearm a little slap. "Right here, like the rest."
"Well alright," he said, chewing on his toothpick, "come over here. Let's get it done."
She smiled, following him over to his desk where all his supplies were. He organized some things and told her to sit down and lay her arm out for him, so she did, and she watched every move he made intently, curiously.
"So…" he said, not bothering to look up at her, "knocked out on Lee's couch, huh?"
She blinked, thrown off for a second. "Yeah," she said as he pressed the gun down to her skin, "I'm pretty sure I was just gonna ask him for a ride."
"Hm," he hummed, focused down on her arm. "The rest of them know?"
She looked him over. "Nothing to know," she said, suspicious, "what do you mean?"
"They ain't gonna care," Tool said, "unless you're having fun hiding it or whatever. And honestly, they're a pretty dense group of guys. Idiots, really."
"Why do you think-"
He chuckled, the sound of the gun vibrating just loud enough to mask the conversation.
"Kid, did either of you look in a mirror at all today? It's like you're both in high school and it's the morning after prom."
Her face went red and she instinctively scratched at her neck. Tool laughed again, this time louder, his hand never shaking.
"Since I know you're wondering, no, I don't think Barney knows. I don't think he wants to know, is the main thing. You like him, or was it a mistake?"
She felt weird confiding in Tool. He was always just the dude in the background that hung out with younger women and made his art. He talked about how dark and twisted he'd become on the inside and covered Barney in tattoos. Still, he seemed genuine.
"I don't think it was a mistake," she said, shifting in her seat, "I don't think he thinks it was, either."
"Good," he said, pulling out a fresh toothpick. "Mistakes are bad for business."
She watched him work for a few minutes, thinking through the blurry night before and all this morning had in store. She was confused, almost drowning in all the questions she had for herself and for Lee.
"Can I ask you a question?" She said, glancing over at Barney and Lee talking on the other side of the place.
He grunted, looking to her while he lifted the gun.
"Do you think it would be a mistake?"
He sighed, turning his attention back to the tattoo. "I think that anything that can bring a little light into this line of work is a good thing, so long as it doesn't get anyone killed."
She nodded, watching the ink transfer to her skin with a sharp scratch. "So working together. You think that might get somebody killed?"
"You tell me," he said, chewing on his toothpick.
He finished off the tattoo fairly quickly, since he'd done it so many times before. She smiled and thanked him as he wrapped it up, giving her shoulder a squeeze. He was about to say something when the sound of Lee's phone ringing- Lacy's ringtone- cut him off. He turned his attention back to Dusty with a sigh and a shake of his head.
She was frozen. She knew Lee was entranced by Lacy, and Dusty- what was she? A drunken night? A friend he slept with once? Tool focused on her eyes, nodding along with her, and she turned to Barney and Lee.
Lee had the phone pressed to his ear and was hurrying outside. Barney was looking over at Dusty and Tool. He offered her a shrug.
She made her way over to him, trying to breathe a normal face back on. Her cheeks felt hot and her mind was racing.
"Rough night, kid?" Barney asked. "Let me see that ink."
She rolled up her sleeve again and held her arm out.
"Looks good," he said, inspecting it. "You happy?"
"Of course," she said, swallowing over that sudden heaviness that rested on her shoulders. "And yeah. Rough night."
She stood between Tool and Barney, the three of them watching the door, waiting for Lee to come back.
"You got a job?" She asked, trying to turn her attention away from the image of Lee racing outside.
"It might be nothing. Me and Lee are gonna check it out."
"Sounds good. So I get some time off?"
"You need more?"
She tried to laugh, but it just sounded like a deflated sigh. She tried to shake off that feeling but it was stuck to her.
"Kid, you know, if you need anything, I'm around," Barney said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Times have been tough for you lately. I get it."
She looked up at him. He'd been a father figure in her life for as long as she could remember. She wondered if he had similar feelings towards her, feelings of family and protectiveness. He felt that way about the whole gang and she knew that without a doubt.
"I just need some sleep, I think," she said, shrugging uncomfortably. Tool gave her back a heavy pat and turned back to his desk, his chains rattling with every step.
Lee's bike started up and Dusty stood and listened as it went away. She looked down at her feet, clenching her jaw against the anger and hurt.
"And maybe a ride home," she said to the ground, squeezing her hands into tight fists.
"Coming right up," Barney said, grabbing his keys. He tossed her Lee's jacket and she held onto it. It didn't feel like home anymore.
She sunk into Barney's car and sighed. She wanted to cry, but she felt entirely too stupid even thinking about it. Her head hurt, her joints ached, and now she had that pang in her chest, a feeling of a pounding ache and relentless sadness. Barney pulled out onto the road and looked over at her.
"You know," he said eventually, turning his attention back to the road, "if it makes any difference, I think Lee's an idiot."
"He is," she said with a shake of her head.
"But he's a good man. I know that much for sure."
"Right," she said, finally looking up at him, "he's a good guy."
"He'll get over Lacy," Barney said, and there was a weight behind his words. She knew he was aware of more than he was letting on, but he didn't wanna say it out loud. "She'll move on pretty fast, too."
"Right," she said again, a bit more defeated. "He really proved that by rushing over there the second she called."
"Well, I said he was an idiot, didn't I?"
She chuckled, "yeah, you did."
"Exactly. He's an idiot."
She looked out the window and watched the city pass by as they neared her apartment. She didn't really wanna think about anything, so she figured maybe she'd make herself a drink to numb the pain and just pass out until tomorrow morning. That seemed more inviting than sitting in her apartment in Lee's clothes, alone.
Barney dropped her off and reached over for her arm, holding her in the car for a second longer. She sighed and looked back at him, annoyed.
"Yeah?"
"Remember what I said. Call if you need anything," he said.
"Yes dad," she groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, hey," Barney said with a scoff, "all I'm saying is, I know Lee is your friend. He was your go-to guy and that's obviously changed. If you need someone, you know-"
"I get it," she said, "and I will. Don't worry."
"Good," he said, letting go of her arm. "Don't do anything stupid. If this mission is a go, we might need you."
"Might," she laughed, stepping out of the car and holding the door. "Sure. I'll see you around, Barney."
He held up a hand to wave goodbye as she closed the door and walked towards her apartment. It was dark and quiet, the way she had left it. The air felt heavier somehow.
She reached into her fridge and pulled out a mostly empty bottle of vodka and set it on the counter. She could still feel the headache from last nights vodka, and she didn't want to drink anymore, but she felt like that was all she had left to do. There was no company outside of her TV, and even then, the commercial breaks drove her crazy. But she didn't want the vodka anymore. If anybody had asked her right then in that second, she'd say she wanted Lee. She wanted to go back to that little bubble she had made together, where the world was far away and all that existed was the lack of space between them both. It was warm, comforting, and clear. She felt stupid to think it'd ever stay that way. Life was too confusing to let anything be that perfect.
She thought back to when she was young, before that year away and all the vodka that came after it. When she was feeling down or sorry for herself, she'd go out somewhere and shoot for god knows how long. Arrow after arrow, bullseye after bullseye, until the targets were so worn in she could practically shoot straight through the centers of them. She hadn't done that in a long time. She closed her eyes and leaned against the counter, trying to remember the wind blowing her hair back, her first bow in her little hands. It was her father who had taught her at first. She'd miss just as much as she'd hit, especially the further back she'd go, but that feeling of that first connection- there was nothing like it. Not to mention that first bullseye. Pure bliss.
She also thought about the first time the gang had seen her shoot. Barney had collected her through her father and was interested in her talents, but wanted to see them before he took a new young recruit on. So she met up with the guys by the hangar and awkwardly introduced herself. Amelia, (not yet Dusty), proficient in most types of combat, but specifically skilled on a bow and arrow. A bit old fashioned, but at least the ammo can be reusable. Not to mention it looks cool.
So she shot a few bullseyes from a few different spots, and most of them were pretty impressed. Lee was moderately impressed, but not sold on her being good enough to follow them into battle. He had brought a pack of balloons for the demonstration and filled one up with a hose, tossing it between his hands while she watched him. After a second, he threw it with all his might into the air. She tracked it with her bow and let one fly.
The water rained down over the targets and dripped over her previous arrows.
Lee had been impressed then. Not just Lee, but the whole gang. She was relieved to hit that balloon out of the air, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried not to give anything away, though, and just smiled confidently like she had known she could do it the entire time.
She picked up the bottle of vodka and emptied it into the sink, shaking her head. Maybe it was PTSD from that year away, her first real mission as a makeshift soldier that had turned her cold. Maybe it was that whole lovesick puppy thing they all thought she had going on. Maybe she was just depressed because she didn't know what the point was if all she did was kill to collect a check and get drunk and watch TV. She didn't know what had turned her into the person she was, but she hated it. She wanted to be young and naive again. She wanted the guys to tease her for being too optimistic about the world. She didn't wanna be all doom and gloom all day long, every single day. She didn't want a pitch-black heart. She didn't want shadows in her face, in her eyes. She wanted to keep who she was on a throne and refuse to give it up for anything, because she was a force to be reckoned with. Good thoughts, better aim.
She let the glass slip from her hand and it shattered on the floor.
Fuck Lee, she thought, hurrying around the kitchen to avoid the glass and grab a bag. Fuck Lee, and fuck all this shit here.
She locked the door behind her and hurried out onto her bike, pulling her helmet on tight and buckling it. She gave it a kick and off she went, roaring into the night, the crisp air slapping her skin and welcoming her into that comfortable trance she fell into whenever she went twenty over the speed limit on an empty road.
—-
When she got to the hangar it was empty and she was glad. She kicked down the stand of her bike and pulled her helmet off, shivering a bit against the chill in the air before dropping her keys into it and hurrying inside.
She felt around in the dark for the lights and flicked them on, blinking against them before her eyes settled on her bow. She felt relieved, as though pieces of herself were reuniting and trying to glue themselves back together. She wrapped her fingers around the bow and sighed. She grabbed a few arrows from the table and hurried back outside.
The smooth feeling of the recurve, the soundless wood soft against her fingers, the cold metal of an arrow as she tucked it into the notch on the string and pulled it back, bouncing it a bit to feel the strength. She pulled the string all the way back and against her cheek, looking out to the old targets Barney had set up before she had ever even arrived. Torn from arrows, bullets, and knives, they were duct-taped and held up by poles. She could hit a bullseye on one of those with her eyes closed. Hell, she could probably hit a bullseye on those old things while riding her motorcycle. Big, bulky targets that stood still no matter how hard the wind pushed at them.
She let out a breath and let her arrow fly.