AN: Thank you so very much to everyone for reading this fic, and to those of you that have taken the time to review. I appreciate your thoughtful words so much.

"You know, I learned a long time ago, there are some things in this life that you just accept the way they are."

—Kitty Russell, "Time of the Jackals"

Waiting

A pensive Kitty Russell sat alone at a table by the stairs in the near-empty Long Branch, chin resting in one hand, well-manicured fingers of the other rhythmically tapping, staring off into the distance. A long-abandoned game of solitaire lay splayed out in front of her. The only sounds in the room were the clinking of glasses and a softly-hummed rendition of "Camptown Races" as Rudy began to close down the saloon for the night.

This night had been interminable. Matt had been gone for two weeks now, but it had seemed like….forever. Kitty had known, of course, that this trip would come eventually, but that hadn't made it any easier. Waiting for Matt to come home from his first trip since they had become a couple was not something Kitty had taken to, but if she were going to be Matt Dillon's girl, well, she figured she had better get used to it.

Of course she hadn't been just waiting. No. She'd been working and keeping herself busy by helping Bill and the other girls, by taking meals with Doc and Chester, by shopping here and there, and by the small acts of kindness she quietly performed for those less fortunate. Kitty was determined to keep her usual schedule during the day. To try to keep her mind off of that huge, dedicated, handsome US Marshal that she was fortunate enough to call her man.

It was the nights that were hard. When the saloon had closed, when Bill had gone home and didn't need her to help with any more chores, when the other girls had gone off to their rooms, and when Doc and Chester had left for the night. When she was alone in her room. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her worry.

That was when the waiting sometimes became unbearable….Kitty would sit in her bed in her flowing, white-cotton nightgown, her heart squeezing in her chest, hugging herself close, pretending it was Matt's arms around her. Aching for Matt, she would recall in as vivid detail as possible their precious nights together. How he looked. How he smelled. How he tasted. How he felt. It was exquisitely painful, because he wasn't really there with her, but it was the only way she'd found to get through.

The time alone had also given Kitty time to think, time to reflect on the changes in her life since Matt Dillon had come into it. She knew Matt didn't understand the profound effect he'd had on her. Incredibly to Kitty, Matt saw himself as not good enough for her—a burden even—bringing angst and worry and danger. But that's not what Matt Dillon was to Kitty...

Matt Dillon was, without a doubt, the single best thing that had ever happened to her. Matt coming into her life had changed….everything. How she viewed herself. How she viewed what a man could be. How she viewed love. How she viewed sex. How she viewed the world, and her place in it.

Kitty had always been strong and she had always been proud, but since she'd met Matt Dillon, she'd felt….decent for the first time in her life. She'd felt like she was somebody, and like she had the potential to make herself into somebody even better. Kitty had even started thinking about gettin' up the courage to ask Bill what he thought about maybe being partners some day, if she ever managed to save up enough.

Yep. That big, handsome lawman of hers had changed everything.

Just when Kitty had resigned herself to going upstairs to prepare for the lonely night that lay ahead, she spotted Doc ambling in through the batwing doors. He was carrying his bag and looked as weary as she felt, with his rumpled suit and his shuffling gait. Doc made his way through the smoke-filled saloon and approached her table. "Evenin, Kitty."

"Hello, Doc," Kitty said, managing a small smile. Were it someone else, she might have pretended she had been playing solitaire, but it was no use. She couldn't fool Doc.

Doc sat down across from her with a little groan and scratched the back of his head. "Now, I don't suppose you'd care to share what you were thinkin about so intently when I first walked in here?" he said, eyeing her knowingly.

Kitty motioned for Rudy to bring them two beers. She crossed her arms on the table in front of her and looked into his eyes, "You know who I was thinkin' 'bout, Doc."

Doc nodded knowingly, pursing his lips. "Yeah, I suppose I do. Any idea when that oversized lawman is gettin' home?"

"No," Kitty said in a small voice, looking down, a forlorn expression on her face. She picked at an invisible spot on the table with her finger. "He said before he left he'd be a week, two at most. It was two weeks yesterday." She looked up, brow furrowed. "Doc, I'm worried."

"Well, don't be. Any number of things could have kept him an extra day. And besides, Matt Dillon can take care of himself," Doc said. He added a definitive nod, as much to convince himself as to convince Kitty.

MKMKMKMKMKMK

Matt had watered and tended to Buck then had unrolled his bedroll near the fire before propping the upper-half of his body against his saddle. He was watching the jumping, crackling flames of the fire, outwardly relaxed but inwardly on high alert for anything else out of the ordinary. Matt hadn't seen Johnson's horse, which disturbed him, but he supposed it could have been hobbled some distance away.

Matt kept an eye on Johnson as the man rested on his bedroll a few yards from him. As Matt stared into the fire, something caught his eye, partially hidden underneath Johnson's saddlebag. It was a dirty tin plate and cup, separate from Johnson's set that was still next to the fire. If Matt had been somewhat uneasy before, now he was downright apprehensive. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Certain now that they were not alone but unsure of how many more men might be out there, Matt decided that his best chance was, once Johnson seemed to be asleep, to try to sneak away from camp, then loop back around to try to catch the men off guard once the sun had begun to rise.

Matt waited for what seemed like forever until, finally, he heard snores coming from Johnson's vicinity. He couldn't be certain that the man was asleep, but now seemed as good a time as any to make his move. As quietly as possible, Matt rose from his bedroll. He was preparing to creep away when he heard a twig cracking behind him.

"That'll be far enough, Mister. Put those hands up," a gruff voice behind Matt spewed.

Damn. Matt froze with his head turned to the right, arms out by his side. His fingers of his right hand twitched as he tried to decide if he had any chance of making it to his gun, turning around, finding his target, and getting a shot off before this man cut him down. Matt heard a laugh and looked ahead to see Johnson awake, standing, and pointing a six shooter at his head.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you, Marshal," Johnson warned. As Matt glared at him with squinted, angry eyes, he felt a blow, followed by a searing pain at the back of his skull.

Then, nothing.

tbc