Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and this work is not intended for profit of any kind.
AN: I was moved to write this ATC to The Way It Is after watching a beautiful video of clips from this episode set to the song for which this fic is named. I have a complicated relationship with this episode—whenever I watch, I have some things I just have to sort out. I suspect Matt and Kitty did too. This fic is three chapters of pure catharsis. I very much hope you enjoy my take on what happened ATC….
I'm not always strong
And sometimes I'm even wrong
But I win when I choose
And I can't stand to lose….
But I can't always be
The rock that you see
When the nights get too long
And I just can't go on….
The woman in me
Needs you to be
The man in my arms
To hold tenderly
'Cause I'm a woman in love
And it's you I run to….
Yeah, the woman in me
Needs the man in you.*
*The Woman In Me (Needs the Man In You). Lyrics by Shania Twain, Mutt Lange. 1995.
The Woman In Me: An ATC to The Way It Is
"Every woman oughta have her eyes wide open once in a while."
Kitty Russell, The Way It Is
Chapter One
Kitty Russell gently closed the door to her suite and made her way over to her velvet settee where she sat herself down, desperately needing to think. She lay back and brought her arm up to rest by her head, only half-aware of the warm beams of sun and the muffled sounds of Front Street lazily drifting in through her bedroom windows. The sweet smell of lavender from last night's long bath still hung in the air and Kitty breathed it in deeply, trying to calm her pounding heart as she gently stroked her furrowed brow with still-trembling fingertips.
If she concentrated, she could also smell Matt. On her and in this room. His scent enveloped her, cloaked her in comfort like his familiar embrace. They had only been together a few minutes downstairs, but it was enough for that beloved, intoxicating mix of lye soap, saddle leather, sweat, and pure man to permeate her brain and securely wrap itself around her heart.
A small, strangled cry suddenly escaped from her, even as she brought her fist to her mouth to try to stop it.
Oh, Matt….
What had she done to him, to them?
How could she have been such a fool?
Could Matt really be ready to forgive her, just like that?
Her two little white lovebirds, who Kitty secretly referred to as M & K, began to sing in their corner cage. Her mind—and her heart—were still racing from the violent, ugly scene that had just transpired downstairs.
Ad Bellum was dead.
He'd been shot down by Matt after Ad had transformed into a murderous lunatic right before their eyes.
She and Matt may very well have been the ones lyin' dead on her barroom floor. Her man—and to her immeasurable relief his eyes had told her a few moments ago that he was still her man—had just saved them both from the madman Kitty had seen fit to pass time with as of late.
Mere minutes earlier Kitty had been, against her better judgement, sitting in the Long Branch with Ad. She had been sitting there thinkin' that with each passing day it was becomin' more and more clear to her just what a terrible mistake she'd made by spendin' any time at all with this man when the ill-advised nature of their association had become even more obvious.
Ad had become outraged when Kitty told him that she had to work and couldn't make plans that evening. The irony of that point of contention hadn't been lost on Kitty, no sir. The extent to which Ad had then acted out his anger, however, had completely shocked her.
She cringed as she recalled his ugly words.
Kitty thought back with terrible shame on how Ad had savagely attacked Sam when her loyal employee tried to step in to protect his boss. She tightly closed her eyes as the vision of Ad pummeling Sam again and again and again invaded her brain.
Kitty shuddered, remembered Ad's last words to her before leaving her saloon…..Don't you try to get away from me, Kitty….or I'll kill you.
...or I'll kill you.
I'll kill you.
Ad had stormed from the saloon with a chilling promise to return.
And then, a moment later, in the midst of the chaos and fear and destruction Ad Bellum had left in his violent wake, a man had stepped into the Long Branch.
Not just any man.
Her man.
Kitty remembered with no small amount of wonder how, even in that tumultuous, awful moment after she had helped Sam to his feet, Matt Dillon's simple presence had instantly centered her, calmed her, brought her peace.
Matt had returned home on the stage from Topeka that morning, from the work mandated trip that had started it all. Kitty imagined Chester or Doc had quickly apprised him of the situation with Ad Bellum—she'd seen the slight question, the slight hesitation in his eyes as he'd entered the Long Branch to talk to her, to ask her what was going on.
The calm Matt brought with him into the saloon hadn't lasted for long—Ad was suddenly back, with blood in his eyes.
She could tell Matt was bothered by her association with Ad. True to form, though, Matt had remained impossibly cool-headed, even when confronted with the man himself, even after Ad had proclaimed to Matt that he had taken his girl away from him, after he'd told Matt that Kitty Russell belonged to him now.
Kitty's heart squeezed in her chest as she recalled her Cowboy's calm, collected, reply to Ad. It was a rare public acknowledgment of their relationship, but an acknowledgment all the same—
She hasn't told me that yet.
The next terrifying moments were a blur. Without warning Ad had attacked Matt, then viciously grabbed Kitty around her neck, all before he promised to kill them both. As a matter 'a fact, those were his very last words before he drew on Matt, before Matt finally cut him down.
Kitty had felt ill as the gunsmoke settled over the Long Branch. She knew she wasn't responsible for Ad's death, that he was not a good man, and that somethin' was broken inside 'a him, but she couldn't help but feel her actions had contributed to the end of his life. More than anything, though, Kitty couldn't help the immense relief that flooded over her with the realization that Ad was dead— and that Matt was safe.
Here in the safety of her rooms, her tears finally flowed freely as she recalled the gentle way Matt had approached her when it was all over, the loving, understanding way his clear blue eyes had regarded her as they'd stood against the bar. She remembered his promise to return later, his invitation to supper—his assurance that he knew what she was tryin' to tell him, as she'd struggled to put her regret into words while he stood at the batwing doors….
Kitty sunk even further into her plush settee and squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly exhausted. She pulled a light quilt down onto her, and tried unsuccessfully to prevent the events of the last several days from replaying in her mind.
Her thoughts wandered back to how this whole debacle had begun….The Ford County Sociable. Kitty knew she'd lost her head when Matt had canceled their plans because the badge demanded he go to Topeka instead of escorting her to the sociable. This time, she'd been mad.
Really, really mad.
Kitty considered herself to mostly be exceedingly understanding when the badge took Matt away from their plans. The Topeka trip, however, had been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back for her. It wasn't even the sociable, really. It was the cavalier way Matt had broken the news to her, the dismissive way he had reacted to her disappointment, the infuriating way Matt had acted as though she was bein' unreasonable—petty, even—for wanting so badly to go to that dance with him, just once.
Kitty supposed it was partially her fault for lettin' her feelings get so out of hand, for not expressing her disappointments to Matt as they occurred, for letting her anger build to the point of her takin' up— however briefly—with another man.
But nagging and needy, Kitty Russell was not.
She was strong…..independent….proud.
Beyond that, Kitty always tried to avoid adding to Matt's burdens by complaining too awful much when she knew, deep in her heart, that Matt was disappointed too.
Kitty was filled with guilt and regret as she thought about how she'd behaved with Ad. Oh, she hadn't had sex with him of course, and had only really kissed him once, but she'd still betrayed Matt in her anger. She'd even denied to Ad what she and Matt were to one another.
Kitty knew she'd be devastated if Matt had carried on with another woman the way she'd done with Ad.
Lookin' back on it now, it wasn't even that Ad was any tall, cool glass 'a water—certainly nothing special among men in looks or ambition or intelligence.
No, Kitty realized in hindsight, that what had attracted her to that man was strictly the attention that he had paid her. She had been so vulnerable when she'd come upon him lyin' unconscious out by the stream. He had made her feel so desirable, so special, so important.
She had to admit, as disgusted as she had been with the way he'd conducted himself at the sociable, a tiny part of her had felt thrilled that a man would care so much to see her in the arms of another man. When Ad took her home from the sociable and kissed her, Kitty had relished in the feeling of being the focus of a man's complete attention, the feeling of being the only thing he cared about.
She hadn't felt that way since….well since Matt had briefly laid down his badge six years ago and for an all-too-short, heavenly period had all the time in the world to focus on her, on them….that is until Chester rode out one day with Matt's gunbelt and made him see he needed to strap it back on.
Matt never blinked an eye when she danced with other men, encouraged it even as he saw himself as a no-account dancer but knew how much she enjoyed it. Sometimes she'd wondered if he'd even notice if she was to rip another man's clothes off right in front 'a him.
That wasn't fair. He'd notice. But she also knew Matt didn't feel he had a right to lay claim to her, seein' as he had—to his way of thinkin'—nothing to offer her.
Nothin' but everything I've ever wanted in a man, Kitty thought with a mirthless chuckle. A hot, salty tear slid down her face and spread out over her quivering lips.
Thinkin' on it now, Ad may have lavished her with attention, but he'd never cared one whit about her. Ad's actions weren't love, not even close. But….in spite of his maddening oblivion and his lack of public displays of affection or jealousy…..Matt's were.
Matt Dillon had never once tried to control her, had never tried to change her, had never tried to possess her like some fancy accessory on his arm. And Kitty knew it wasn't because Matt didn't care….
Kitty knew he loved her. As sure as she knew there was a sun and a moon and a million stars….she knew who she was to Matt Dillon.
Kitty understood that man better than anyone else ever had or ever would. She knew the real Matt, the one he kept hidden from the rest of the world. Knew that behind that big shiny badge was just a man—a man with doubts, with regrets, with imperfections, with vulnerabilities.
She'd held Matt Dillon for countless hours in these rooms, sometimes while he whispered his darkest secrets into her hair in a broken voice, more often while he said nothing but buried his face into her neck and held onto her so tight she felt like he might never let her go.
She'd witnessed that haunted look in his beautiful, clear blue eyes so many times after he'd been forced to kill.
She'd felt the weariness, the weight of the world on his shoulders when he trudged up her back stairs late at night and made his way to their warm bed, into her waiting arms.
She'd observed the unmistakable peace that'd come over him after they'd confided their deepest thoughts to one another and he'd drifted off to sleep, holdin' her in his strong arms, tranquility finally replacing the angst on his handsome face.
She'd seen the unmistakable desire and love—and awe—radiating from those honest blue eyes whenever they made love.
Yes, Kitty knew all she was to Matt Dillon.
And Kitty Russell also knew, although she'd apparently briefly forgotten, all Matt was to her, for her.
She'd told Sam downstairs, and it was true—Matt Dillon wasn't just an awfully good man. He was the best. The best man she'd ever known.
He'd given her a sense of decency when she was a sad, lonely saloon girl who didn't know whether she was comin' or goin'. He'd given her a sense of home. He'd given her love.
Matt Dillon wasn't perfect, that was for certain, and he sure had an awful lot to learn about women. But no one else could ever compare, no other man could ever come close. Even a man like Ad Bellum had been able to see that.
And so, every time in the past, when duty took Matt away from their plans, Kitty had put her disappointment aside and had told him she understood. She did understand, really. She knew what that badge meant to Matt, what Marshal Matt Dillon meant to Kansas.
But she wasn't made of stone.
As strong as she was, as independent, Kitty Russell was still a flesh and blood woman after all. A woman who had needed, for whatever reason on that particular day one week ago, for her man to hold her, for him to thank her for understanding, for him to tell her how much he appreciated her….how much he wanted her….how much he loved her.
The woman in her had needed Matt to do that.
And he just hadn't.
tbc
