Disclaimer: Despite the months of trying... we still don't own the Cartwrights, the Ponderosa, Cochise, or Candy. Drat. We'd claim Bob, Fred, and the others, but we're quite simply not that fond of them.
One Simple Task
by Greywolf Lupous and Kimba Lyall
Chapter Three: "Barbary Coast"
San Francisco was a city full of charm and elegance. Even a good majority of the bars and cathouses were decorated lavishly, dressing up the activities that went on in such places as near respectable. The Clamshell Bar, however, was not one of those establishments. The bartender didn't believe in wiping up too much, so whenever someone went to order a drink they had to hold their breath. The chairs had seen better days, probably around twenty years ago, and now struggled to hold up the bar's few patrons. Two of those patrons sat in the far corner, trying to drown their sorrows.
"Y'know Bob, I'm really sick of this."
"Oh, now what?"
as the normal man in my line of work does!"
"Actually, you get half because you can't legally work here, Fred. 'sides, it's not like you do much, just running back and forth, deliverin' messages."
"There's nothing wrong with Canada or being a courier!" Fred huffed and took a long sip of his drink in protest. "You know, I hate my name too! It's too plain!"
"Oh?" Bob was unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into his voice. "I don't see nuthin' plain in Fred Jones."
"Oh, like Bob Smith is any more creative?"
"Hey, at least I take pride in what my parents named me, damn Canadian."
"Enough with your Canadian bashing already!" Fred slammed his mug down. "I'm
changing, from this day on!"
"You're drunk."
"From this day forth, I am no longer Fred Jones. I am Fred the Horrible!"
"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots. So are you gonna change careers, become a pirate
too?"
Not too long later...
"I had to ask..." Bob shook his head, not exactly liking the look of this "pirate ship" that Fred somehow got out on credit. "Um, Fred, maybe this isn't too good an idea..."
"Silence Blonde Beard! I'm talking to the troops!"
"Blonde Beard? Come on, what kind of name is that!"
"Would you like to be Headless Bob?"
"..."
"I didn't think so, now men! Our goal--!" Fred pointed out to a large cargo ship approaching in the distance, "--is to seize that ship!"
The 'troops' consisted of some of the other bar patrons, and a few people picked up on the docks. Not exactly the pirates of Jean Lafayette, but they were street smart, and most already knew how to immobilize sailors from their part-time work at the "acquisition" business.
"So, Fred the Horrible, what do we do now?"
"We wait Blonde Beard, we wait..."
The sun had long since sunk into the horizon and a blanket of stars covered the clear night sky, and First Mate Adam Cartwright still couldn't pull himself from his perch. There were some days deep out in the ocean, where he felt more content than he ever had in his life. It was when they started approaching port, particularly this port, that he didn't feel quite so home anymore. Instead he remembered rolling hills, towering pines, an infectious giggle, and fireside chats.
He had a letter in his pocket, ready to be mailed out as soon as the ship docked. There was always a letter to send, and always a letter to read. It wasn't like he had lost touch with his family… or maybe it was. Almost four years at sea now, and he hadn't managed even one visit back to the ranch.
There was no need to wonder about what his brothers were doing, Pa always kept him updated. He'd heard about the gold detector, the prolific rabbits, and was even sure if he bumped into the new foreman on the streets of San Francisco it wouldn't be too hard to identify him.
He knew everything that went on in their lives, but couldn't help but feel an ache inside at knowing he wasn't a part of those lives anymore. He loved his life at sea, but with a deep sigh, he realized he missed his other home as well. They wouldn't be in port in San Francisco for too long, and certainly not long enough for him to make the trip to the Ponderosa and back.
A shout from the crow's nest drew his attention away from the side of the ship. If he had continued to pay attention, he might have seen the dark form on the water that was slowly making its way towards the cargo ship.
The ship's crew began to rush around to work as the captain shouted out orders for docking. Adam pushed himself away from the side to help get the ship ready.
When all the preparations to dock were completed, activity on the old cargo ship dwindled down to a slow crawl. The captain and Adam had headed down below deck to ready their personal items. The rest of the crew continued to man their positions, but the anticipation of a few days of shore leave left them distracted.
With more stealth than it was fair for a Canadian courier to have, Fred and his crew of scalawags pulled up their small craft to the aft of the cargo ship. The more able-bodied "pirates" tossed up grapples attached to ropes, the grapples catching on the side railings of the ship without making a racket.
The small boat's party began to scale the side of the ship; however the two leaders were having a little trouble. Bob slowly made his way up, his muscles straining at the effort. Fred however continued to slip every time he tried to take a step up. Eventually one of his men, dubbed Stinky by many, had to let Fred hold onto his shoulders while he climbed up.
Once everyone had made it on board, the men split into groups. Sticking to the shadows, Fred's "pirates" skulked around the ship until they found an unsuspecting crewmember, and knocked him out. Fred supervised the work, mostly because his attempts at scaling the ship left him exhausted. As soon as the crew on the deck was secured, Fred and Bob led the charge down below.
They burst into the captain's quarters, and while Fred struggled to pull out his hand-me down pirate's rapier to point it at Adam and the captain, his loyal band of men pulled guns.
"What's going on here?" Adam eyed the men surrounding him warily.
"What does it look like?" Fred finally managed to pull the sword out… well, the handle came, but the blade stuck in the sheath. Annoyed, he menacingly waved his rapier handle at Adam and the captain. "We're taking over this ship, and all of ye crew prisoners!"
"Fred, really, do you have to talk like that?"
"Quiet Blonde Beard! I'm trying to cow the enemy into submission."
"The guns are doing a better job of that," Adam stated bluntly.
"Oh shut up!"
Adam tightened his jaw, trying to calculate the odds. If he could only reach his gun… as the thought occurred to him his hand started inching its way towards his belt.
The door to the cabin burst open, and a heroic voice cried out, "Hold it right there!"
Everyone in the room turned to face this strange new voice. Adam and the captain glanced at each other, had somebody come to save them?
"One pull of this trigger and I could blow your head right off!"
Perhaps not.
"Rod!" Fred greeted the new arrival with entirely too much enthusiasm. Rod stepped away from the door, revealing himself to be a rough looking man with a few weeks' unshaven growth. Two other "pirates" flanked him.
"Forgive me for asking," Adam interrupted, "but exactly who are you suppose to be?"
"I'm Fred the Horrible! Scourge of the…"
"Pacific Ocean?" Rod suggested.
"Clamshell Bar?" Bob tried.
"San Francisco Bay?"
"The alley off of Hyde Street?"
"Fisherman's Wharf?"
"Shut up!" Fred shouted to his subordinates.
"So you're Fred the Harebell, scourge of the docks?" Adam smirked.
"That's Fred the Horrible!" Fred fumed. "Rod! Put these two in the cargo hold!"
"Right!" Rod stepped forward, and then glanced back at Fred. "…where is that?"
"We keep it all in the lifeboats," Adam put in helpfully.
Rod backhanded Adam. "How about you just show me?"
The eldest Cartwright son rubbed his face and glared at Rod. The captain gave his first mate a warning glance, having the feeling he was going to push these men too far. Adam sighed and nodded to Rod. "Fine."
The two men who followed Rod began to escort Adam and the Captain out. Before he reached the door, Adam turned back to Rod with a smirk. "Oh, and next time you decide to do a hold up, it might help to take off the safety."
One of the men roughly shoved Adam out the door. The rest of the pirates drifted out, leaving just Rod, Fred, and Bob. Rod studied the gun for a moment, before realizing that Adam was right. He quickly took the gun off safety mode and jammed it into its holster.
The sound of a shot reverberated around the cabin. Fred and Bob glared at Rod, who just grinned embarrassedly. "Oops."
Somehow, and neither were quite sure whose good graces up in heaven they had gotten in, both Joe and Candy managed to make it to San Francisco in one piece, without further incident. Well, that was discounting the night Candy accused Joe of trying to kill him with his cooking. But see, that's not that exciting, is it?
In any case, they had finally arrived.
"Well I never thought we'd make it." Joe said as they made it to the outskirts of the city.
"Yeah, and to think, we didn't even meet Santa Claus either."
"I know, I had already figured out what I was going to ask him for."
"I told you I claimed the squirrel repellent," Candy waved a finger, "no copying."
"That's fine. I wanted a ward against evil spirits."
"C'mon Joe, he's Santa Claus, not a gypsy."
"Oh like you were going to get your squirrel stuff from him."
"I'll have you know I've been very good this year."
"I'd believe that if I didn't know you so well." Joe rolled his eyes.
"Just for that I'm not putting in a good word for you," Candy snorted as he eyed the busy streets. "So do you know of a good place to wash the trail dust out of your mouth?"
"I know just the place." Joe grinned, fully intending to start collecting on his blackmail.
A large, brutish man stared out of one of the broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, hearing the nine men behind him guffawing and carrying on. He scrubbed at his eyes, as if that would replace the dirty street in front of him with the life that he felt had been meant for him. When he opened his eyes, the street was still there, and he felt anger rising within him. Quickly he turned away from the source of his anger, facing the other men.
At the look of fury upon the large man's face they immediately fell silent; some even straightened their posture to attention. He looked over them all, pushing away his disgust. They were the dregs of society, every last one of them, but they were good at following orders. When he was satisfied he had everyone's attention, he pulled over the blackboard that he'd sketched out of the bank they were to be targeting. "As you should all know, today is the day for striking. You've all been keeping watch the past few days, so I expect you to know the timing of everything!"
They all mutely nodded, not wanting to incite their leader's temper. He continued, pointing to the area surrounding the bank. "We'll have three men situated across the street here. I want another two down the street. You know when the police will be coming through, so I expect fair warning!"
The leader pointed to the youngest of the group, who straightened up. "Jack! You'll be guarding the entrance. Spike, Angel, and Doyle, you'll be inside the bank."
He heard three simultaneous, "Yes Tiny's", and began to walk up and down the front of the room. "The wagon with the money will be coming right at five o'clock, closing time. As soon as the money is unloaded, Angel here will call the shots!"
"Once we've taken the money, Jack will give the whistle, and you three across the street will start the diversion," Tiny halted in his pacing, fixing all nine men with an angry glare. "I will have no stuff ups once this operation is in motion! Just remember, the less of you there is, the bigger everyone's share is. Understood?"
They all nodded quickly, the underlying message very clear.
"You've got two hours. We'll meet back here one hour after the job has been completed." Tiny paused and stared at the men. "Get going!"
They all scrambled out of the room, leaving Tiny alone with his thoughts. He turned back to the blackboard, and began filling in some areas on the drawing. Four years studying architecture and all he had to show for it was several wanted posters and a pile of stolen money.
Candy studied the lively atmosphere as they trekked further into the bustling city. The closer they got to the Barbary Coast, the livelier the people got. Too focused on his surroundings, Candy nearly passed Joe as he pulled Cochise up outside the "Dazzle Dollar" saloon.
"I think this is a good place as any to stop, that's Miller's place across the street," Joe pointed to the lumber company building, "where we pick up the contract—"
"But…?"
"You said you wanted a drink first, right?" Joe dismounted and tried to dust himself off, but wasn't having much luck.
Candy snorted as he followed Joe's example. "I've got a feeling it's a lost cause. Between the two of us we've probably got most of Nevada all over us."
"You're probably right." Joe gave up trying to dust himself off and instead looped Cochise's reins over the rail, practically leaping up onto the boardwalk. It felt good to be out of the saddle. "Well, hurry up there!"
Candy finished securing Dusk to the hitching rail, giving Joe a shrug. "Can you blame me for wanting to double-check?"
"With that horse of yours, who can be too sure?" When he was sure Candy had finished fussing over his horse, he reached for the door, only to have it slammed open almost in his face. Smoothly Joe sidestepped the two drunken men as they stumbled out to the street, and he strode up to the bar. "Two beers."
The bartender quickly served the drinks and set them on the bar in a noisy and grand fashion. Joe looked over at Candy expectantly, who grumbled and paid the man. With a triumphant grin, Joe sought out an empty table, almost literally falling into one of the chairs.
Candy opted to kick out a chair, sitting in a smoother, but not necessarily a more civilized, fashion. After taking a long sip of his beer, he let out a contented sigh. "Well that's one thing off my list for the moment. I can tell you can't wait to sleep on a real bed at a real hotel."
"A real bed sounds nice," Joe studied his beer thoughtfully, "I'm just hoping this here is real beer."
"As opposed to the fake beer we get in Virginia City?"
Joe glared at Candy before taking a cautionary sip. "Ah, finally! That's a real beer!"
Candy raised an eyebrow. "You didn't happen to sample anything in that town that's not… let's say, from around here?"
Joe put on his best poker face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Right."
Joe quickly focused his attention on draining the rest of his beer, calling to the bartender, "I'll have another!"
Candy cleared his throat, and Joe raised his eyebrows innocently. "What?"
"Perhaps you ought to hold off on some of that celebrating until AFTER we pick up what we came to get," Candy said, before gulping down the last of his beer.
"Oh right the contract! Be a shame if we forgot that." Joe eyed his half-empty glass as if it were a challenge. Tossing a defiant look at Candy he quickly finished it off. "Let's get to it then!"
"The sooner we get that done, the sooner the fun can begin." Candy nodded, feeling a yawn starting to come on.
"Fun? Looks to me like you need to take a nap." Joe stretched as he stood up.
As he started to head for the door, the bartender rushed over. "Excuse me, you didn't pay for that last drink."
Joe pointed to Candy, slipping out the door quickly. "Put it on his tab!"
"What?" Candy started after Joe, but the bartender grabbed his shirt before he could make it very far. "I said FIRST round! Not subsequent rounds!"
The bartender didn't appear to sympathize with Candy, and instead held out his hand. Candy paid the rest of the tab, before being released to chase down Joe. "Just for that, I'm not going to even try and save you from Hop Sing and the dreaded teas when you come back with that cold."
Joe made a face at the thought of the teas. "You just be careful, I might decide to share this cold with you so you're not so left out."
"I doubt that," Candy took a step back however, just to be sure. "I don't plan on spending any time cuddling with you. I just feel sorry for all the women on the coast. You're going to start an epidemic you know."
Joe glowered at his friend and stepped up to the building he had indicated earlier. "Shall we?"
Candy just shrugged and followed Joe in. The decorations in the office were nice, but didn't lend the room any sort of inviting feel. The clerk behind the desk looked at the two dusty cowboys a bit warily. "May I help you?"
"Is Miller here?"
"He's out back. And you are?"
"Cartwright, Joe Cartwright. He's expecting me."
The clerk didn't appear to believe that, but slipped out to the back anyway.
"Well, if everyone here is as friendly as your bartender and clerk friends, we'll have no problem here," Candy commented.
"Always looking at the bright side, aren't you?" Joe rolled his eyes, and pulled his hand off the desk when he realized the trail dust was leaving a trail.
"That's my job!"
After a few minutes, an elderly man came in through the door the clerk had left by. He walked over to Candy. "So you must be Joe? Ben's told me a lot about you. You don't look like him very much."
"Mr. Cartwright and I don't have much of a family resemblance," Candy couldn't help but smile, and then pointed to Joe. "I think Joe does though."
Miller squinted at Candy, then Joe, and his eyes lit up. "Ah yes! I see it now!"
"Nice to meet you, and my twin over there is Candy." Joe shook Miller's hand, and Candy tipped his hat. "So Pa's talked about me?
"Oh, Ben and I have been friends for a long time. Wouldn't trust just anyone to hold that contract." Miller raised his bushy white eyebrows.
"Speaking of which, I might be convinced to take that off your hands."
"Oh yes! Your father sent me a telegram saying you would be coming." Miller moved back behind the desk, pulling a key out of his pocket. Carefully he unlocked the top drawer and pulled out the contract.
"Told you," Joe mouthed to Candy, who just rolled his eyes.
Miller produced a pen from the same drawer. "You just need to sign here, and it should be ready to go."
Joe quickly signed the paper, and thanked Miller. As they both walked out, Joe looked over the contract to make sure everything was the way it was suppose to be. Satisfied, he stuffed it inside the pocket of his jacket. "Well now that that's done, it's time for me to party, and you to sleep!"
"Oh no, I'm here to make sure you don't get into any trouble, remember? So I can't let you go wandering off by yourself in the wicked city, into who knows what dangers."
"You've done a great job so far," Joe smirked.
"Hey, it's not my fault you wandered off into a rainstorm while I was sleeping. Can't watch you all hours of the day."
"You make a better foreman than nanny." Joe waited for an opening, and quickly crossed the street to where he had Cochise tied up.
Candy wasn't too far behind. He quickly noted that Dusk had behaved himself, and gave the horse a reassuring pat. "Never claimed to be too good at babysitting. That's more of Hoss's job."
"Well Mr. Nanny, what do you say about discovering the finer aspects of the Barbary Coast?"
"I'd first say 'call me by my name', and after that, 'lead the way Mr. Cartwright'."
"Well Fred, you have a ship." Bob announced after they had docked the ship.
"Indeed! Now I am unstoppable!"
"You lost me there." Bob said as he eyed all of the cargo they'd unloaded from the hold. "I'm not quite sure how these spices will make us unstoppable."
"Not the spices Blonde Beard." Fred indicated the cargo hold. "We now have the capability to haul whatever we want, to wherever we want."
"So why didn't you just use the other boat?"
"This one is bigger!" Fred glared at his right-hand man, who obviously didn't have enough experience at being a pirate. "Besides, we won't be just hauling any cargo."
"Well that's good. I was under the impression that pirates looted, plundered, and did that sort of thing."
The great pirate leader looked offended at even the thought of not living up to his duty. "We will, but we have to keep a front for anyone who comes poking around."
Bob nodded, that made sense. Although Fred making sense was a fairly new thing. "So what's your plan?"
"Wood."
"Wood? Wood is your plan?"
"Not just any wood! Lumber!"
"…lumber is wood!"
"Never mind the semantics," Fred waved his hand around. "If they think we're simply hauling lumber, no one will think twice to inspect our ship or cargo!"
"All right… and so how do you expect to convince them of our lumber hauling intentions?"
"We need--!"
"Yes?"
"Can I get back to you on that?"
Bob groaned and shook his head.
"This is it!" Joe announced, pointing at one of the Barbary Coast's many saloons. They were now on foot, as they had decided to stable the horses before celebrating.
"Are you sure now?" Candy asked sarcastically.
"Yep."
"Because this is the fifth time you've said that."
"Well excuse me if they're all good bars."
"I wouldn't know since we didn't order anything to drink."
"That's because they weren't the right one!"
"Joe, if you hold off our celebration much longer, you're going to wind up celebrating by yourself!" Candy warned.
"This is the right place, I'll swear by it!" Joe grinned as he took in the atmosphere. The other bars were good bars, no doubt about that, but they were more on the outskirts of the coast, and if they were to celebrate proper, they needed to be in the middle of the action. And in the middle they were. Fights erupted along the sides of the street; the air was filled with the sounds of yelling and raised voices from the saloon. "Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight?"
Candy eyed the chaos erupting around them. "I'm guessing it's an acquired taste."
Joe stepped onto the boardwalk, then jumped back off as a couple of men came tumbling out of the saloon, followed not too long after by an empty whiskey bottle. One of the saloon girls appeared at the batwing doors, sneering at the now former patrons. "And stay out!"
"I know I've said it once, but the folks here sure do know how to give you a welcome." Candy said stepping up next to Joe.
The lady at the door looked them both over appreciatively. "You two can come in."
"See there! An invitation!" Joe clapped Candy on the shoulder in a friendly gesture, before shoving him towards the door. "But how 'bout you go first?"
Candy walked in, eyeing the door for flying men or bottles. He made it in safely however, and Joe soon followed. "You get the drinks?"
"Only if you're paying," Candy watched as the woman slipped back into the crowd. "I don't get paid as much as you."
"Is that a complaint?" Joe reached into his pocket and threw some coins on the bar.
"Call it an observation, if you will." Candy found the nearest vacant table and sat down heavily in the chair.
Joe followed suit and raised his glass of beer. "To a few days on the coast, and a job well done!"
"Amen." They clanked their glasses together, before Candy took a long sip. "Although the job is technically only half-done."
"Well how hard can it be to get a little piece of paper back to Pa?" Joe set his glass down.
"And that part about coming straight back, no going to the coast?" Candy asked.
"Oh, that's 'Pa' for 'take a few days and relax, but don't get into any trouble'."
"Ah, you see anybody else could have mistaken that for what it sounded like."
"Yeah, but would he believe what delayed us in the first place?"
"I don't believe it," Candy snorted. "So, why'd we have to come all the way to pick that thing up?"
"Well," Joe pat his pocket, "I think Pa didn't want to run the risk of it getting lost in any mail delivery. One of the lumber companies out here has a big order to fill, and this baby here gives the Ponderosa exclusive rights."
Candy drained the last of his beer. "If it's so important then maybe you ought to put it in the hotel safe until we're done. You know, keep it from getting lost."
"Not to worry, it's quite safe right here," Joe grinned. "You want another beer? I'll buy since you're so poor."
"Well, since you're offering..." Candy grinned.
Off about a table or two behind Candy and Joe sat our successful, well, maybe just lucky, new pirate captains. But what is this? Are they drowning their sorrows? Or is it something more devious? Or are they just plain drinking in the saloon like they always do? Who knows...?"Ya hear that Fred?" Bob took another swig off the bottle they'd bought. "The solution to your lumber hauling problems, all in that man's pocket!"
"You're right Blonde Beard--"
"Can you not call me that while we're out in public?"
"But it's a good pirate's name. You should always go by..."
"PLEASE?"
"Fine. See if I ever give you a fun name again. But you're right, BOB, we'll keep a close eye on those two, and make sure to get the contract before they have a chance to put it in the hotel safe."
The door swung in as two men burst through, looking rather pleased with themselves. The younger of the two called out to the bartender. "Get us two beers, and I'll take a bottle of that fine whiskey too!"
Not waiting for a reply, the young man kicked out a chair and proudly flopped down into it.
Joe returned from the bar with the beers, looking back in the direction of the two newcomers. "They must be celebrating something pretty big."
"As are we," Candy laughed. "We actually got here. I think that's cause enough for celebration."
"I agree, here's to… um, here's to…?" Joe paused as he tries to think of something else to toast to. "Heck! Here's to the things that are real and the things that aren't!"
The loud man that had entered turned to his friend. "Well Spike! I'd say that went well. Now it's time for the celebration."
"Oh, and what exactly do you have in mind, Jack?" Spike grinned and took a sip of his beer.
"Oh you know: the usual. Whiskey, saloon girls, some 'entertainment'," Jack winked at Spike and looked at another table. "Might even get me a proper game going."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Well that sounds good to me, though I don't know why you'd want to lose all that money we jus' got. Seems a real waste to me."
"That's your opinion," Jack set his empty glass down rather heavily. "I've got to put some of it to a good cause."
"Because we're the charitable sort of folks in the first place," Spike finished and tossed a few coins at Jack. "I'm buyin' another round, if you get 'em."
Jack snatched the coins mid-air, "I'll drink to that!"
"Well I feel properly refreshed," Joe commented as he finished up his beer. "I think we should find a hotel for the night."
From their table, Bob and Fred cast each other a look, it was almost time to make their move.
"Weren't you the one itching to find entertainment?" Candy winked.
"Yeah, but you know you do look awful tired to me," Joe tossed back as he started towards the door. "But if you're wanting some entertainment, I know of some places further down."
"Sounds real good Joe," Candy rose slowly, his muscles protesting at the movement. "Although I think I'll be taking a nice long hot bath tomorrow."
"Hmm," Joe eyed their still dusty states, "not too sure if you'll get the kind of entertainment you're looking for coming in like that!"
"You're not any better," Candy tried to weave through the crowded room to catch up with Joe. One of the more inebriated customers staggered into his path, and he had to jump to the side to avoid tripping over the drunk, only to feel his back slam into someone else. He turned to the man he'd bumped into to apologize. "Sorry, didn't see you there."
Jack eyed the beer stain on his shirt with distaste, and glared at Candy. "You need to watch where you're going! You've got eyes!"
"Look, I said I was sorry." The foreman tried to soothe the irate patron, but didn't seem to be having much success.
"Well sorry don't cut it here!" Jack finished his statement with a well-aimed right hook.
Candy stumbled back and rubbed his jaw, glaring at Jack. "That wasn't very nice."
Joe turned around hearing the hush fall over the room and saw Candy rubbing his jaw. "Well at least it wasn't my fault this time."
Joe crossed his arms as Candy decided to return the favor to Jack, sending the young outlaw crashing over a table. He quickly picked himself up, and charged Candy, tackling them both to the floor.
Joe sighed and approached the bar, just in case he needed to step in. He motioned to the bartender for another beer, having the feeling the plans for the night were going to be changed. He didn't notice the approach of Jack's partner until he felt the tap on his shoulder. "Yes?"
As soon as Joe turned around, Spike slugged him, sending him sprawling across the bar.
Bob looked over at Fred. "So is this all going according to your master plan?"
"Oh shut up, it's just a fight. We'll still get the contract when they leave."
For a few moments, Joe just stared at Spike in a daze. What in the world?
Pushing himself off the bar, he channelled all of his frustration at ghosts and squirrels into his swing, sending Spike back into the middle of a poker game. The players quickly tried to rake in the pot as the outlaw tried to regain his breath. He grabbed a chair to help correct his balance, and gripped it tightly as a new tactic crossed his mind.
Candy looked over, hearing the racket on the other side of the bar. Joe had just turned his attention back towards Candy and Jack, and didn't see the Spike and the chair raised over his head, "Joe look—" and was promptly socked in the jaw by Jack.
At the almost-warning from Candy, Joe swung back around just in time to see the chair before it crashed into his side, sending him to the hardwood floor. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Thanks for the warning!"
"Sorry," Candy grumbled from his spot on the floor. "Y'know, I can't say I care for the way this fight is headed."
"Me neither," Joe turned his attention back to Spike, seeing a booted leg heading for him. He caught the leg and gave it a hard tug, bringing Spike to the floor too. "You heard about not kicking a man when he's down?"
Spike growled and scrambled back to his feet the same time as Joe. "You'll pay for that!"
"Aw, did I injure your pride?" Joe taunted and leapt to the side as Spike charged him. "You really need to work on your temper."
By now Candy was circling Jack and watching him carefully. The slight shift in Jack's shoulders warned Candy to the upcoming charge, enabling him to pivot to the side and bring down two fists together on the outlaw's back. Candy leapt a few feet back and grinned as Jack's face met the floor again.
Jack slowly started to regain his feet when the bartender yanked Candy by the shoulder, grabbing Joe with his other free hand. "Okay you two break it up! Any fighting goes outside where ya can't do any damage to my place!"
In less than five seconds, Joe and Candy found themselves eating the same dusty boardwalk that the drunks before them had. "Now stay out!"
Joe sat up, holding his side where the chair had hit him. "Well thank you for your gracious hospitality!"
Candy stood up rubbing his jaw tiredly. "I hope you're not still up for that entertainment."
"Oh no, that's enough excitement for me," Joe grumbled as he massaged his side. It wouldn't bother him too much he decided.
"Y'know, I think I'm just about beat after that. I think the women would prefer us fully rested anyway," he grinned ruefully.
Joe returned the tired smile. "You know that hot bath sounds really good right now. I say we just get to that and find trouble again in the morning."
Candy nodded and started off in a direction. He suddenly halted and turned back to Joe. "Where are we staying by the way?"
Joe rolled his eyes. "Why's it always me that has to think of these things! Remember last time I got us a room huh?"
"I don't think it's that hard to find a hotel with real people in a city full of live ones, do you?"
Joe sighed dramatically and led the way down the street towards a large hotel. "Follow me!"
Back in the bar, the bartender turned his anger on Jack and Spike. "You two get lost as well! I know your kind, I don't want to see your face 'round here again!"
Jack helped Spike off the floor on his way out. "You all right Spike? He sure walloped you good!"
"Yeah, I'm fine." The blonde man grumbled. As soon as they were outside he gave Jack a good whack to the back of his head. "Idiot! Why'd you have to go and start that?"
"Hey!" Jack whined and rubbed his head. "I didn't exactly have it easy in there either!"
Spike snorted and turned away from his drinking companion. The two retreating forms of the men they'd just exchanged blows with caught his eyes. "No matter, I want to go have a few words with our friends. You?"
"Now who's starting what?" Jack asked, falling in step behind his older companion.
And to answer a few reviewer questions…
Ginny: Related to a platypus? Well… perhaps he taught the platypus all he knows. You know, opened up an Evil Squirrel School for Evil Animal Geniuses? It could happen...
Katharina: What other trouble? Well… it's looking as if it's going to be a lot.
Fear not Squirrel fans, our fuzzy friend may not be totally gone!