Tempe Michaels, heiress to the Michaels Food Labs fortune, rising star in biochemical engineering, and overworked vacationer stepped off the train and took in a breath of dusty air. She hoisted her pack over her shoulder, looking out, in her mind, into the infinite. Her yearly vacation, two weeks of absolute freedom, stretched out before her. All the possibilities in the world, but it would start, as it always did, with a single chance meeting.
Dolores stood, as she always did, packing a saddle bag full of sundries to take back to her ma and pa on the Abernathy Ranch. As always, a can fell to the ground. Normally, Teddy would be there to pick it up, and the two would move through their narrative as normal, but not today. As an eighteenth birthday/graduation present, her father had paid Delos a small fortune to alter the narrative whenever Tempe came to visit.
Seven Years Earlier
"Your first vacation without the old man in Westworld. How did you enjoy it, Dear?" Cain Michaels, her father asked. Looking up from his tablet, he grinned conspiratorially, "Did you spend all of your time with that blonde in the blue dress again?"
"Her name is Dolores, Dad," Tempe said, flopping onto the sofa in a half seated, half lying posture, "And no, not entirely. I really liked it the first time, but it just sucked that she didn't remember me."
Her father opened his mouth, but she cut him off, "I know, I know, it's silly. But, I mean, what's the point if I have to start over again everytime I see her? I spent the first day with her, but then it just felt hollow, like I was reciting a script."
He set his tablet down and looked directly at her. "You know there are other parts of the park, don't you? You don't have to spend all your time on a silly tryst. There's lots of adventure to be had."
"I did have some fun while I was there," she said, a little self consciously, "I went on a treasure hunt, took in some of the more natural beauty. Those western cliffs at sunset are breathtaking."
Tempe paused for a moment, lost in the memory.
"But?" Cain prompted.
She straightened, bringing herself to a seated position. "Again, I know it's silly, but I really wanted to share that with Dolores. It really felt like we had a connection that first time. It just, I don't know, sucks."
Her father chuckled, "I know what you mean, dear."
One Year Later
Tempe stepped off the train and walked into town. She had been looking forward to this vacation all year, but now that she was here, now that she knew exactly what to expect, she didn't feel the same rush as even just a year ago. Her father had been bringing her since she was thirteen, and precious little had changed in the town of Sweetwater since that time.
There's a surprise waiting for you in Sweetwater, her father had said, Be sure you check in with that lovely young woman in the blue dress.
What could he possibly have meant by that?
As she approached Dolores, right on que, a can dropped from her saddle bag. Tempe picked it up, as Teddy would normally do if she weren't there, and said, "Excuse me Miss, I believe you dropped this."
Dolores turned, looked at the can, then to Tempe's face. Several expressions flitted across her features. First confusion, then recognition, and finally, delight.
"TEMPE!" Dolores screemed, pulling her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you!"
"You remember me?" Tempe asked, confused.
Dolores released her and held her at arm's length. "Of course I do. You ran off so quickly last time, I was worried I'd never see you again. Are you busy? I've been working on something I want you to see."
"Not at all," Tempe answered.
It slowly dawned on her what her father's surprise had been. He had paid Delos to allow this host, Dolores, to keep memories of the time they shared. Knowing how much this place cost to visit, she knew her father had to have dropped a significant sum to get this special perk.
Present Day
"Excuse me Miss," Tempe said, as she had so many times before, "I believe you dropped this."
Dolores whipped around, recognized the face she had expected from that voice, and wrapped her arms arm the other woman's waist. The two hugged for a long moment, oblivious to the stares they received from other park guests.
"I'm so glad to see you," Dolores whispered into Tempe's ear, "What wonderful adventures do you have planned for us this time?"
They finally pulled away from each other, though their hands remained clasped. Tempe stared for a long moment into that flawless, beautiful face.
"Well, I was thinking dinner, the Coronado." she said, adjusting her bag, "Let me change and wash the road dust off, and I'll buy us a steak."
Tempe splashed cold water from the basin onto her face and scrubbed vigorously. It wasn't strictly necessary, there was no road dust to speak of, but it always made the experience feel a little more authentic. Normally, she would follow Dolores to her family's ranch (currently free of bandits thanks to the ongoing narrative her father had paid for) and have dinner there. But now, as a full fledged PHD with a promising career ahead of her, she felt like treating a lady to a meal.
She dried her face and turned toward the bed, where she had laid out her evening attire. A pair of period appropriate men's slacks, suspenders, dress shirt, and a tailed waistcoat. Delos provided clothes for the guests, but in this one area, Tempe had them beat. She always brought her own clothes, made with painstaking accuracy, to the park. She would have loved to claim credit for the work, but she was hopeless with a needle thread, and much too busy besides. Fortunately, money compensated for almost any lack of talent or time.
The one indulgence she did allow herself was modern underwear. The practicality and comfort of a modern bra and panties was simply too convenient to give up, even here. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that her last meal had been almost twelve hours ago. She quickly put on her outfit, finishing it with a jaunty top hat, this one provided by Delos. They had allowed her to pick a selection of hats, but she had only needed two. This one, and a light grey traveling hat.
Checking her appearance one last time in the mirror, she strode out of the room and walked down the stairs to the saloon. The piano played itself, various guests milled about talking to hosts, and prostitutes stood at the bar drinking.
The idea of prostitutes in this place always struck Tempe as odd. Not that there weren't ladies of the evening in the old west. But in Westworld, all the hosts were there for the taking. Each one would willingly give themselves over to any guest at the mere asking. Even Dolores.
Tempe banished that though from her mind. This was her vacation. This was her time to make believe. The harsh realities of the world didn't have to exist for her for the next two weeks. She could pretend, as she had every year for the last seven years, that she and Dolores had something special. The real world, and all of the crushing responsibility that came with it, could wait.
As she crossed the street, an old man with an eyepatch appeared suddenly in her path. Startled out of her own thoughts, she stopped just short of running into him. He wore a grey vest and matching hat, though it was hard to tell through the mud that caked his face and chest. It looked as though he had just picked himself up out of the street.
"You look like someone with an eye for adventure," he said, "I just happened to be in possession of a map-"
"No, thank you," she cut him off, stepping around him. Not taking the hint, he followed.
"You hesitate, but I can tell-"
"Look," she said more firmly, cutting him off once more, "Tonight is about me and someone very special to me. She is waiting for me, and I do not intend to be late."
"At least take a look at this map," begged, thrusting a ratty piece of paper at her back. She finally stopped just outside the door to her destination and turned toward him.
"Fine," she said, taking the map, "I'll look at the map tonight. If I'm still around tomorrow, then maybe I'll consider it."
The man nodded as she carefully folded the map and put it in the gentleman's pocket of her waistcoat. Seemingly satisfied, he tipped his muddy hat and strode away, humming to himself. Tempe blew air out between her pursed lips, then turned and strode into the Coronado.
The bar and dining area, a step or two above the Mariposa, was immaculate. It always amazed Tempe that, in this dusty little town they had created, Delos had somehow thrown in a spotlessly clean restaurant on par with anything in the outside world.
"May I help you, Madam?" asked a host in a white tux. The man had oiled hair and a thin, waxed mustache.
Tempe nodded, "Yes, I'm here to meet a young woman. Blonde hair, blue dress. It matches her eyes."
The host nodded, "Miss Abernathy is waiting in the back room. This way, please." He gestured and led her through the dining room. They entered a slightly smaller room with only a few tables. At a small one, tucked away in the corner, sat Dolores. She was as beautiful as ever, her presence lighting up the room far more than the weak illumination provided by the gas lamps on the walls. Tempe took her seat across from her date. She had seen this woman every year for the last seven, and she still found herself short of breath in the farm girl's presence.
"May I get your meal started?" asked a male voice, breaking the spell. Both women looked up to see a young man wearing a pristine white shirt, red vest, and white apron around his waist.
"Yes," Tempe said, "I'll have roasted potatoes with rosemary salt, braised carrots, and fillet mignon."
The waiter nodded, "Very good, how would you like your steak cooked?"
"Let it stare at the oven in terror for a moment, then bring it out to me," Tempe answered.
The waiter nodded and turned to Dolores. She shrugged uncertainly, "Do you have pork and beans?"
The waiter nodded, "And may I suggest a side of roasted vegetables? They are quite good. A perfect pairing for a hearty meal."
"Uh, sure," Dolores nodded.
"Oh," Tempe chimed in, "A we'll each have a glass of red wine. And I'll take a double bourbon, neat."
"Very good, Ma'am," the waiter bowed slightly and walked away.
"Wow," Dolores said, watching the man retreat, "This place is so fancy. I don't think I've ever been inside before. And you. You look so," she paused, seeming to find the word, "Handsome, all done up like that."
Tempe's heart melted. "Well," she said, "You are going to have to get used to the finer things in life. After all, you are sitting with a full fledged doctor."
Dolores' face lit up, "You finished your schooling? That's wonderful."
"I did," she answered, "I'm going to work for my father's company." She lowered her voice, inviting Dolores to lean in, "I'll be honest, I do feel a little guilty. It seems a little like I'm cheating. First, my dad pays to send me to the best schools, then I immediately go to work for him. But he promised me that I am going to have to earn my keep."
The waiter returned with drinks, setting them on the table. Dolores immediately picked up her glass and raised it. "A toast," she said, "To the beautiful doctor, and to all of our adventures. May those ahead be just as exciting as those behind."
"And to the beautiful farm girl," Tempe responded, "Who stole my heart and refuses to return it."
The two drank.
After dinner, and several more drinks, they stumbled out of the Coronado toward the Mariposa. It took a bit of trying to get up the stairs to Tempe's room, but eventually they managed it. Once the door had shut, the two began pulling articles of clothing off of each other with wild abandon. Tempe found herself, not for the first time, cursing the period accurate clothing they made Dolores wear.
The two fell naked into bed and spent the rest of the evening entwined in each other's passion.
A crash brought Tempe instantly awake. The door still rattled, having hit the wall with force. In the doorway stood an overweight man with food stains on his dingy shirt. Next to him stood one of the many prostitutes employed at this saloon.
"Well alright!" the man exclaimed, "A foursome it is."
Tempe reached for the gun belt which she had, fortunately, hung on the bedpost. She pulled the revolver and aimed it squarely at the man's chest.
"Tempe, wait, don't," Dolores stammered.
"Dolores, hush, I've got this," Tempe whispered.
"This one's feisty," the oaf said, licking his lips.
"I'm not a goddamn host," Tempe growled, "Now you have exactly one second to get the fuck out of my room."
Dolores' grip on Tempe's arm tightened, the lady's eyes widened, but the man just scoffed, "You ain't gonna shoot me , Girlie."
Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger three times. The prostitute screamed.
She wasn't sure exactly how the technology worked, but she knew that the shots would hurt, but not kill. If he were a host, the shots would have ended his narrative in cold blood. Instead, he fell onto his back, stunned. Tempe moved the muzzle deliberately to aim at the intruder's female companion. Her eyes widened at the motion.
Tempe stared coldly at the woman, "If anyone else comes into my room who isn't me or my lovely companion, I will hold you personally responsible. Understood?"
The woman nodded frantically.
"Good," Tempe said, gesturing with the muzzle, "Now close the door."
The woman nodded again, then bent to move the big idiot's feet out of the way before shutting the door behind herself. Once the latch clicked, Tempe let go of a breath that she didn't know that she had been holding. She silently wondered how she had managed to aim through the haze of her hangover.
"Did you really need to frighten her like that?" Dolores asked.
Tempe turned slowly onto her back to face her companion. "You're not worried about the guy I just shot?"
Dolores shrugged, "That didn't look like anything to me."
Tempe's eyes narrowed, "Yeah, I suppose not. Let's get some sle-"
Dolores suddenly covered Tempe's mouth with her own. The kiss was deep and tender. A lifetime of emotion, real and imagined, passed between the two. When they finally pulled away, Dolores nestled her head on Tempe's shoulder, and the two fell almost instantly asleep.
