8 months ago contd

WALT

The smell of strong coffee and bacon filtered their way into the hungover haze clouding his brain, forcing him awake. His stomach rebelled at the thought of food, making him lurch to a hunched sitting position, head in his hands and he groaned, and the hammers inside his skull clanging loudly made him regret a lot of things right now.

The smell lingered, and eventually he uncrusted his eyes enough to slit them open carefully, seeing the semi darkness of early morning, he ventured opening them further to see the underneath of a pair of well worn cowboy boots leaning up against the bars of the cell door. Crossed casually at the ankles, the same way he liked to do it when waiting for a miscreant to wake in the morning. It was a trick he learned from Lucian.

So his brain wasn't really surprised to hear those deep cultured tones ring out from the shadows, words drawn out that extra bit longer, the way Lucian did when he was pissed at you for something. It made him a great poet, but in Walt's opinion, a lousy teacher. Lucian was *always* pissed at something.

"Awake now, you useless piece of shit excuse for a Sheriff?"

Hands cradling his head gently at the temples, Walt wished desperately for a hot shower and a change of clothes and then, maybe then he would be ready for a strong hot black coffee. First he had to talk his way out of the locked cell, he always needed his A game with Lucian, years of playing chess had taught him that. He was so far off his A game it wasn't funny.

Trying to force some saliva into a mouth as dry and furry as one of Henry's mounted heads, he coughed and forced a gravelly rumbled response.

"Ex Sheriff"

Lucian laughed an evil chortle, sounding both pleased and pissed off "Yes, the lovely Sheriff Moretti filled me in on the details this morning" he paused for a long while, eyeing Walt a certain amount of calculation in his expression "All the details."

Too hungover to want to play Lucian's games, and not really caring that much anyway, Walt lay back down on the uncomfortable bunk and tipped his hat over his eyes before replying

"Why are you here Lucian? If its to torture me, trust me that's already happening. So go away and let me sleep"

Lucian laughed one harsh bark "Right now, watching you locked in your own cell is the best entertainment I've had in years, and I would happily sit here all day, enjoying the moment." A stomp as his booted feet hit the floor loudly and Walt winced, then paid more attention as the lock in the cell door rattled while Lucian fitted the oldfashioned key into it. The key would only turn if you fitted it just so, and eventually it clunked open and the door swung open with a slight creak should really oil that one day.

The older man leaned against the metal bars of the door way, arms crossed and expression thoughtful ah that's where Branch got that particular habit from. The two men looked at each other, so many years of experience between them, working together, not friends but not enemies either.

Finally Lucian stirred "You armed?"

Walt wasn't sure, Vic had taken his Colt and pocket knife, but the events of the evening before were blurry memories of a lot of beer, and yelling and walking the streets in the dark. He shrugged and replied

"Nope."

"Good cos I am, not only that, I got deputised to be your goddamn babysitter. Don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have. Get your stinking ass in the shower, and I'm taking you home."

Walt struggled to process all that for a moment and Lucian continued mercilessly "Vic said, and I quote 'Shot him in the fucking hip if you need to, maybe being in wheelchair will give his brain a chance to start working again'." He patted his hip where a holster had a familiar pistol handle poking out the top "Yes mister, I will shoot you with your own damned gun. Are we clear?"

That much he could process and nodded "Clear" and shoved himself up to stand, swaying just a little before grimacing at the unpleasant smells rising off his reeking body and clothes. Walt tipped a head in the direction of his office "I have a change of clothes stashed in the washroom, OK if I grab them and head downstairs for a shower?"

They stood only a couple of feet apart and the moment stretched as Lucian made judgement and asked "Going to give me grief?"

Walt shrugged, rubbing a calloused hand over his extra stubbled face "Where would I go? No truck, no weapon, no ID and probably no money either. Right now even Henry would probably stand beside you and watch you shoot me." He sighed, tired and heartsick "Just take me home Lucian, if you want to yell at me, probably better if you wait til I'm awake enough to yell back."

He stepped forward and Lucian eyeballed him one more moment, before wrinkling his nose in disgust and let him pass. Walt collected his stash of clothes, and was halfway out of the office on the way to the shower before his brain kicked into gear

"You don't own a vehicle. How are we getting out to my place?"

Lucian was drinking the last of his coffee and took his time about it

"Vic and I drove out to collect your Bronco, as well as getting a Deputy Badge, I got that too, asshole"

Walt nodded "OK then"

It wasn't till much later that he realised Lucian had visited the place where his brother had shot his nephew, leaving Branch to bleed out into the dusty ground. The bloodstain would have been clear to see given it was only the next day. It wasn't till much later that Walt found out that Lucian had asked Vic to take him out there, demanded it in fact, as his price for agreeing to babysit the disgraced ex-Sheriff he had trained himself.

Another chapter for my lovely readers, I had a friends birthday dinner to go to tonite, where I ate my first ever Graham cracker! No study, so here is the next installment in my story. Enjoy! Its back to the text books tomorrow!