It took three days to get to Savannah. To Jesse, it seemed like three weeks. It would've been shorter if Bob and Jim hadn't spent most of it arguing about which one the bar maid from the last saloon they'd stopped at was looking at when she'd pushed up her breasts and licked her lips. Jim was sure it was himself; she'd winked at him earlier before the actual incident, while Bob was equally as sure because, as he'd stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world: He was Bob Younger. At this, the entire group groaned and rolled their eyes, leaving Bob insecure.. which led him to continue to argue with Jim.

"She was not lookin' at you, Bob!" Jim cried indignantly. "I dunno if she was even lookin' at me!"

"You're right! She wasn't lookin' at you, 'cause she was too damn busy flirtin' with me," Bob said smugly. He would've crossed his arms if he weren't riding his horse.

"Okay, alrigh'. I give up. It doesn't matter if she wasn't lookin' at you 'cause she was lookin' at me. I give up."

"She wasn't lookin' at you!"

"Oh, I think she was."

"Was not."

"Was to."

"Was n-," Cole, who looked like he couldn't handle it anymore, cut off Bob.

"SHUT UP! The both'a you! Just shut up or I swear t'God I'll shoot you!"

Bob could've sworn he'd seen his older brother twitch at the end of his sentence. He fell silent, as did Jim, but only after Jim muttered, "was to". Bob gritted his teeth and nudged his horse in it's sides so that he wasn't quite so near Jim. Cole continued to speak after he'd silenced his bickering siblings.

"Now, lissen here. We're almost at Savannah, ain't we Frank?" Frank nodded, so he carried on. "Y'all know the drill. Should be like clockwork by now. But 'cause Jesse's back with us, at least for a lil' bit," he took a casual sideways glance at Jesse, who returned it, "I'm gonna tell y'all again. Here's how we're gonna do things: Jim, you're still healin' up, so you'll stay outside," Jim opened his mouth to protest, but Cole kept right on talking, "an' you'll make sure nobody comes in.

"Now the rest'a you are comin' in with me. Savannah's got two vaults, an' one'a them just got filled up with a nice load'a Thaddeus Rains' pocket money. Jesse, you keep the teller busy. The fact that you're there would be distractin', let alone with the rest'a the gang. Me an' Frank'll take care'a the bigger vault, Clell an' Bob the smaller one, an' Tom, you got the horses, right?" Tom nodded attentively. "Okay then. None'a you shoots 'less they shoot first. Ain't no one gotta get hurt, right Jess?"

Jesse looked to his cousin with a well-hidden amount of animosity. He was jealous of Cole, of how good he had gotten since he'd left. He was a great leader, but knowing Cole, that would probably go to his head and inflate his already oversized ego. So instead of saying anything, Jesse forced a half-smile and turned his head away again. Cole glanced back at Frank, who shrugged, and then back to the horizon, where the sleepy little town of Savannah was just starting to show.

Fifteen minutes and sixty hushed "was not/was to"s later, the gang trotted up to the Savannah bank lazily, not as a group, though, that was too conspicuous. This was just another routine job for all of them, except for maybe Jesse, who'd been out of the loop for a while. Tom slid off his horse slowly, gathering the reins of both he and Jim's horses and tying them up. Cole jumped of his horse, taking a saddlebag for the money like Clell had moments before. Frank followed Cole, rifle held casually at one side, hidden well by his bulk. Bob was leaning nonchalantly on the side of the bank, waiting patiently for the crime to be committed. Jesse led his horse up to Tom slowly, watching them operate. He was getting excited by now, hopping off his horse and flashing Tom a grin before jogging up beside Frank.

"You ready?" Cole asked as he extracted a colt from his holster. Jesse nodded, following suit.

Cole rolled his neck and then lifted his foot, kicking on the door. The slab of wood flung inward, revealing many surprised patrons and one very skinny bank teller. The group walked in, their guns at the ready, and fanned out while Cole began to explain the situation. "Alrigh' ladies an' gen'nlemen, we're robbin' this here bank. Hope nobody has any objections," he turned to Jesse, "You wanna do the honors, Jesse?"

"Jesse James?" the teller asked curiously. He had full, blonde hair and deep brown eyes. "I thought you wasn't robbin' banks no more, Mr. James."

"Well you thought wrong, apparently," Jesse, offering the teller a half- smile while he twirled his gun expertly in his right hand, let the aim fall onto the man behind the bars. He moved up to the barricade after taking Cole's saddlebag and placed it onto the counter. "Alrigh', make this nice an' easy an' jus' put the money in the bag."

The teller obeyed fearfully, not realizing that Frank and Cole had gotten into the larger vault, or that Bob and Clell were working on the smaller one. Everyone was halted, however, when a strange man burst into the bank unexpectedly. Jesse whirled around to face this intruder, holding his guns out imperiously. The man surveyed him curiously, his own rifle raised and aimed at the famous Jesse James.

The intruder was tall, much taller than Bob, who was the tallest of the group. His hair was dark and unkempt, cut to the nape of the neck in the back and just above the ears on the sides while the front was slicked back and out of his face. He had scruff that traveled from the bottom of his ears to meet at his chin, and on his top lip that met at the exact same point on the chin as the other line. His eyes were wild and blue, possessing an intense quality that could scare someone if they maintained eye contact for too long. He was built, his biceps huge and his chest large, almost bursting out of the loose white shirt and gray vest he was wearing. Altogether he was pretty damn intimidating, if you didn't count the suspenders that were holding up his matching gray slacks. The fact that he wore suspenders made him seem tamer, at least that's what Jesse thought as he stared the man down. The man narrowed his eyes, seemingly confused about the whole ordeal of interrupting a robbery-in-progress when he, in fact, came in to attempt his own.

"Who the hell're you?" he sounded angry.

"I'm Jesse James. Who the hell're you?" Jesse sounded equally as angry, but his words were touched with confusion.

"I'm robbin' this bank!"

"I think that's what we were doin', buddy," Bob had emerged from the small vault, leaving Clell to keep collecting. He too raised his gun at this nuisance. "Or did y'not see that?"

"He sees it fine," a new voice explained as three more men made their way into the bank. The one who spoke had a hat on; it covered most of his face and shadowed the rest to make it indistinguishable. The other two were identical, twins was the only explanation for their resemblance.

"Oh Lord," Frank muttered, knowing full well this would turn out to be disastrous. He had his rifle trained on the first man, but he slowly slid it over to the one who was speaking. Cole came up behind Frank, his gun aimed at one of the newcomers as well.

They stood off in silence, each person aiming for another. This would go on forever if Jesse didn't say something. So he did. "Now, fellas, I don't think y'know who you're dealin' with."

"He's right. Not too many folks mess with the Younger gang an' live t'tell about it," Cole said threateningly. He'd purposely left the "James" part out of it. Just because Jesse was riding with them again didn't mean he was automatically supposed to give up his title.

Jesse glanced at Cole, and then back to the one that had come to rob like them. He nodded his head to the side quickly and licked his lips in a mix of excitement and anticipation. "You heard the man, boys. Now step off 'fore we gotta do something," he paused, his eyebrows raising, "drastic."

Ralph had looked into Jesse's eyes while he'd said that, believing that this famous cowboy would be the death of him. He wasn't afraid of death himself, but he was careful of his little gang's members. As he scanned the room warily, he realized that they were outnumbered. Now, one doesn't seem like such a big number, but if you're in an enclosed area with more of a chance of getting shot, then it's one hell of a big number. His gaze turned to a glare as he kept it fixed on Jesse, lifting his finger slowly from his rifle's trigger and pointing the barrel at the ceiling. His other hand slowly made it's way up and soon he was in a full surrendering stance.

"Okay boys, let's go."

"What?!" the boy with the hat asked angrily. "Ralph!"

"Billy Ray," Ralph's voice served as a warning.

Billy narrowed his eyes, his finger still stuck on the trigger while the twins lifted theirs. His hand shook with effort as he placed his gun in its holster slowly. He was itching to shoot someone, to inflict pain on one of these people stopping their robbery, but Ralph would make him pay for it later. He grinded his teeth inside his closed mouth, his hand poised just above the gun's sheath. Jesse raised an eyebrow at him. He figured that one was some sort of loose cannon, ready to go off at the slightest hint of a flame. It unnerved him, so he studied the boy's face intently as the rival gang backed out of the bank. The tension of the moment could almost be seen it was so heavy.

The James-Younger gang watched the men exit, their guns still raised protectively. After a moment, Jesse heard the sounds of horses galloping away. He turned his head to Bob.

"Bob, go see what happened t'Jim an' Tom, will you?" Bob nodded and followed the men's trail, disappearing through the door. Jesse watched him go, realizing there was a task that they had to get back to.

"Alrigh', we're gonna go back t'robbin' the bank, folks. Sorry 'bout the inter-," a gun cocking sounded and Jesse stopped mid-sentence. His first reaction was to duck, the second was to yell, "Get down! Bastard's found a rifle!"

A shot rang out through the bank amidst screams of fear and surprise. Almost everyone hit the floor in one unanimous thump, with the exception of Clell, who was just about to head back into the small vault and finish collecting. Apparently, he was closest to the teller, so that was for whom he was aiming. His body jerked unevenly as he let out a yell of pain that, even though other people were screaming, was easily distinguished. Jesse's head snapped up, as did his guns, and they were suddenly trained on the man that had just shot his friend. The teller was caught off-guard, reloading, so he dropped his gun and threw his hands into the air (A/N: And waved them like he just didn't care) as a symbol of surrender. Frank pushed himself up from his crouching position and hurried to the injured Clell, who now lay on the floor on his back, gurgling incoherently.

"Clell, buddy, where'd he hit you?" Frank's hands hovered over Clell's shaking body, unable to locate the source of blood because it was everywhere. He'd been shot at close range with a rifle and dear god it was messy. Clell winced but couldn't seem to find the spot himself, his hands trailing over his bloodied stomach. So much blood. Frank started to shake himself only it was less noticeable. "Alrigh' Clell, alrigh'. Hold on, you're fine. Help me, Cole."

Cole snapped out of his dazed stupor, dropping the saddlebag unwittingly. He rushed over to Frank and took up Clell's legs hesitantly. The two exited quickly while Jesse kept his gun aimed at the teller's head. Clell was as good as dead and he knew it. Jesse wanted so badly to do something about it, but he wouldn't. This teller was unarmed, and plus the poor boy had pissed his pants. So instead he backed slowly out of the bank, raising his second gun, trying to buy the gang some time to get ready to go. "Sorry 'bout that, folks."

By the time Jesse fully emerged from the bank, the wound Clell had sustained had finally gotten the better of him. He groaned sadly as he spotted his body draped over Tom's horse where Tom had a hand on his back to keep it from falling off. Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse caught movement and turned to see Jim standing, albeit a bit wobbly, next to a wooden pole and looking dazed as blood leaked gradually from a fresh cut on his forehead. Cole, Frank, and Bob had mounted their horses and all seemed to be waiting for Jesse to do so as well. Jesse moved quickly to his horse and hopped on, eager to get away from this place.

"Jim, you think you can ride?" he asked skeptically as his cousin began to climb onto his horse.

"I'm fine," Jim said in annoyance, like he hadn't been bashed in the head at all a few moments ago.

Bob looked to Jesse. "I'll ride close, make sure he does okay."

"Alrigh'. Let's go 'fore the sheriff comes."

He started his horse off at a gallop as the others followed, but as they left the town behind their pace slowed. Jesse needed to think, and he couldn't do it on a horse that was bouncing him up and down quite so rapidly. They needed to get somewhere safe, where they could rest for a bit; maybe figure out what that rival gang was all about. They couldn't very well have that happen again, he didn't want anybody else shot. Not like Clell, oh God not like Clell. The sound of horse's hooves, separate from the steady drum of his own, shook him from his essential but brief thought.

"We're gonna have t'stop off an' bury 'im, Jess," Frank's voice was flooded with emotion. It was hard to see something as graphic as death to kin and keep a straight face. Okay, so maybe Clell wasn't kin but he was damn close, he was one of the gang! "It's the right thing t'do."

"O'course. We need someplace t'stay for a bit, too. I ain't just talkin' one night, though."

"There's only one place I can think of, an' we haven't been there in a couple'a years."

"You think Joe Mueller's jus' gonna forget about us 'cause Ma died? How long is it to Esterly?"

"Maybe a three day's trip from here, maybe four. Depends."

"On what?"

"On how quick the burial is."

"Oh," Jesse paused. He hadn't forgotten about that, he just didn't remember they'd actually have to stop. "Yeah, suppose so, huh?"

They both glanced back at Tom, who didn't look like he was fairing too well with Clell as his riding partner.