Disclaimer: Duh

Reviews: icefox, Sweeteen19, klara-kind, Death Fox of Chocolate, nekomouse, DxS Phreak, HalFa34, BadgersRule, Panic I'm here, Samantha-Girl Scout, slpytlak, Galateagirl, inufan-308, alow, LesMiserables, Psycho but fun, RemembertheLegacy, Wolfee.

A quick note: Well, I just received a laptop for my high school graduation (Yay me!), and I had a hankering to use this beautiful new machine I received, so here we are! LOL, but anyway, this story's been on hiatus for a while because I suddenly didn't like how I'd originally written most of it. So, I decided that instead of making this into a "modern" tale, I'm returning it to its original time period of… I don't know, 1800?


Chapter 2: Beauty

She walked down the dirt path into the town, her lilac eyes gazing intently at the leather-bound book she held in her hands. A light breeze ruffled her raven hair and dress, making her glance down only a moment to scowl at her outfit. She hated dresses, but if she were caught walking around town in trousers, her family's honor would be destroyed, and she didn't want to stress her friend Tucker any more than necessary. Since her parents had died when she was only fifteen, Tucker Foley had taken care of her. He was a few years older than her and had been like the brother she never had.

"Good morning, Samantha!" a voice called out.

The young woman looked up from her book, smirking at the baker that had greeted her. "Kwan, how many times have I told you to call me Sam?" she asked, never ceasing her steady pace down the path.

The baker simply chuckled before moving on. As Samantha walked on, more people called out in greeting, some of them referring to her as Sam as she had requested while others insisted upon Samantha. It wasn't long before she was able to leave the dusty road and oddly happy people to the quiet, mysteriousness of the bookshop. Mr. Lancer looked down from where he stood on a ladder and smiled in greeting.

"Miss Manson. Finished another book already?" the old man asked, replacing books to their proper places.

"I couldn't put it down," Sam admitted, handing the book up to him. "Do you have anything new?"

He laughed. "Not since yesterday."

"Well, that's all right." She climbed onto another ladder, searching the shelves. "I'll borrow this one." She plucked a book from its spot on the shell and held it out.

"This one?" Lancer asked, taking the book from her. "But you've read it twice!"

"It's my favorite. Far off kingdoms, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise!" She leapt off the ladder, grinning. "But don't tell anyone. I have a dark reputation to keep."

He smiled, shaking his head. "Well, if you like it all that much, it's yours." He handed the book back to her.

"But, sir—" she objected as he ushered her toward the door.

"I insist," he replied, showing her out.

"Well, thank you. Thank you very much." She continued down the path, her head now bent to read the book she had just received as a gift.

"Look at how beautiful she is," so many young men whispered, drooling over her. "She would make a fine wife for any man lucky enough to catch her!"

And indeed, Sam was very beautiful with her slender face and figure, high cheek bones, and full, red lips. Her nickname at birth had been Beauty, but as she grew older, she despised the nickname and demanded everyone called her Sam or Manson. She was a free spirit, a stubborn, fiery young woman that longed for a life of adventure and true love. She would not easily be tied down.

Her trek through town was interrupted as a young man stepped before her. He was blonde, with blue eyes and a physique most women would swoon over. His name was Dash Baxter, a wealthy young man known for his skill in hunting and fighting. Everyone said that he would be the one to marry young Sam if he could manage to tame her.

"Hello, beautiful," Dash said, smiling his most dazzling smile.

Sam looked up at him, not even bothering with a fake smile. "Dash," she muttered, as a way of greeting. "Don't call me that."

"I simply compliment what I see," he said, eyes looking her up and down.

She felt like a horse being examined by a breeder. "Please, excuse me, Dash, but I'm on my way to help Tucker."

"That crazy man needs all the help he can get," Dash's lackey, Lefou, snorted.

"Don't talk about my friend that way!" Sam shouted, bristling with anger. "Tucker's not crazy! He's a genius!"

"Yeah, don't talk about her friend that way!" Dash added, smacking Lefou upside the head.

At that exact moment, something exploded from the Foley house at the edge of the bustling market place. Ignoring that laughter, ridicule, and overall ridiculousness suddenly rising around her, Sam ran to make sure her "brother" was all right. She opened the door to the workshop, the simple cellar beneath the house, and a cloud of smoke greeted her, blocking her vision for a moment.

"Tucker?" she called out, making her way slowly down the steps.

A cough was her reply before she found him upside down, leaning against the wall. "I'll never get that stupid contraption to work!" he muttered.

Sam laughed, helping him to his feet. "Yes, you will. And you'll win first prize at the fair tomorrow."

"You really think so?" the young man asked, brown eyes suddenly sparkling with renewed hope.

"Of course," she replied, smiling at him.

"Well, then, I'd better get started." He got himself back under the machine, pulling at gizmos and gadgets underneath. "Hand me that….that thing."

She smirked before retrieving the tool he needed that he had been unable to name before moving to sit by the unlit fireplace. "Tucker, do you think I'm…odd?"

"Odd? My sister?" Tucker glanced at her from beneath the machine. "Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just don't seem to fit in around here. The only one that's ever nice to me is Mr. Lancer."

"What about that Dash fellow? He's always coming around asking about you," Tucker muttered, tinkering with his machine.

She made a face. "Please, don't make me ill."

He laughed then slid out from under the contraption. "I think that's done it." He pressed a button, and they stepped back as it let out a screeching whistle.

Objects began to move, wheels began to turn, and the machine began to chop wood and throw it into the wood pile, just like it was supposed to. "You did it!" Sam cried, ducking as a piece of wood came too close. "You really did it."

"I did, didn't I?" Tucker said, grinning proudly. "Hitch up Phillipe, Sam. I'm off to the fair!" At that exact moment, he got hit in the head with a piece of wood.


Sam waved as Tucker headed down the road with his contraption safely tucked away in the wagon pulled by their Clydesdale Phillipe. "Goodbye, Tucker. Good luck!"

"Bye, Beauty! And behave while I'm gone!"

Sam rolled her eyes at the old nickname then went inside the house. She wished she could've gone with him to keep him out of trouble, but someone had to stay and care for the house. If only Sam had known going with him probably would have made her miss a glorious adventure soon to come.


A/N: Okay, the ending isn't quite what I would like, but it'll do. So, what do you think? It's quite a bit like the movie right now, isn't it? I promise there'll be changes soon, and the next chapter should bring in Danny and some more stuff. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Review 'cause you love me, and you know it makes me happy!