New in Town, Part 6

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The room was larger than she would have thought from the outside. Certainly larger than the tent they passed at lot 22. A brass-framed bed that was larger than Bill's rack was pulled out a bit from the wall, the edge of a faint brownish stain barely peeking out from underneath.

A couple of battered chairs, a writing desk, a chest of drawers with deep scratches marring its finish, and a washstand completed the furnishings. A small stove in the corner would provide heat in the winter, she supposed. Maybe hot water for a quick washing up. Old cooking smells rose up from the floorboards, hammy and thick. The window, open just a crack, allowed a mild breeze with the hint of "latrine" into the room.

"So cubits are worth more than you thought?"

Bill shrugged. "I get the feeling that they're worth whatever Swearengen says they are. He gave me an advance on my pay, had a meeting of the minds with the mayor, next thing I know, the mayor was checking me in."

At her puzzled glance, he added, "the mayor runs this place."

"Oh, Gods…he's a strange little man. So how'd your meeting go?"

He sat on the least rickety chair and pulled together the day's impressions.

"When I was a kid once, I was spending some time with my uncle and his husband in the city. I had to wait in a bar for a while for him to meet with his boss. His local Ha'la'tha boss. I remember he wasn't a big guy, but even I could tell he was the one guy in the joint that nobody wanted to cross. Wasn't brawny, wasn't heavily armed…hell, I don't remember him having any weapons on him at all. But he was the guy who could get you dead with the flick of an eyelash. He could get you what you needed just as easy, if it suited his purpose."

Bill nodded to himself, satisfied with his assessment.

"That's this guy."

"You going to tell me about the uniform?" Laura stood close, and ran her index finger down the buttons on the chambray shirt until it rested on the heavy belt buckle. She ran her finger over the smooth metal oval.

"He said I looked too much like a deserter. Wanted to keep my background 'a bit less obvious to the hoopleheads'." He shrugged.

She looked at the borrowed satchel filled with clothes. "Seems like a lot."

He opened it and started taking out folded shirts, pants, mounds of patterned material, and…oh, frak, she thought. One of those corsets.

"He thought you were getting a bit soft around the middle?" She raised an eyebrow as she held up the sturdy cotton-covered garment, the laces pulled through the grommets and tied in a bow. It didn't look especially feminine.

He gave a grunt of irritation. "That's for you. He had that blonde woman, the smoker, go get a few more things for you. She's got an insubordinate mouth on her."

Laura grinned at his assessment of Trixie. Apparently she had been as free with her thoughts around him as she had been with her.

He held out a bundle of thin white cotton, trimmed with eyelet lace and a sky-blue ribbon. "Said she couldn't figure out 'why the fuck he couldn't have told her she was pickin' out a fuckin' trousseau on her first trip' and was he going to be sending her to fetch each item, garter by garter? "

She frowned as she ran her hand over the soft fabric. "What do you make of him being the Ha'la'tha boss type, and her feeling so free to be disrespectful? She said she used to work for him…I'd think that would have the opposite effect."

He stretched, pulling out the kinks that had developed as he had hunched over crude maps and lists.

"I think they had something with each other once. And she reminded me of Kara…always pushing things a little further than most, and getting away with it more often than not." He grinned as he took the bundle from her and started putting things away in neat piles in the drawers.

"She's got strong opinions about you, that's for sure. Told me 'good luck' getting you into 'that fuckin' corset she ain't got no intention of wearin'. And what's so frakking funny?"

She tried to stifle the giggle that she knew was coming. "Every time you say "fuck" it reminds me of a little boy who wants so badly to curse like the big boys but just can't quite get it right."

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She glanced at the display of antlers and moose head on the way back up the stairs.

"And I was so looking forward to fresh food again." The chunks of stewed elk lay heavy in her stomach.

"We'll get used to it. The fresh carrots were good." He turned the key in the lock of their door.

"The ham smelled better. Why'd you give me the frown over the ham?"

"Swearengen said the pork in town might have a bit of a human aftertaste, advised against it."

She paled in the dim hallway torchlight. "Why would they—"

"No airlocks."

She wrinkled her nose. "Early protein recycling. Lovely."

He opened a bottle of whiskey that he'd left on the dresser. "Want some?'

"I don't suppose there's anything like ambrosia around?"

"Nope. Just this stuff, about on a par with cheap Tauron whiskey."

She sighed. "Fine."

She took the glass and sat in the more rickety chair. It felt good to be off her feet, although at some point, she had apparently gotten used to the awkward buttoned shoes. They weren't that different from her pumps, but as with her dress heels, she wanted out of them now, ready to curl her legs under her, if it could be managed while so covered in fabric.

"What did you decide as far as salary and duties?"

"Duties were kind of loose…he's one of those bosses that tack on "and other duties as may be assigned." Seems like the town had a kind of invasion some time back, by a private force, maybe former military. The town had plenty of armed men, but no real organization for resistance."

"They were occupied? The town doesn't have that kind of feel to it." She sipped at the harsh spirits, her tongue and throat starting to burn.

"He didn't say much about that, just that an 'ugly but fortuitous happenstance of similarities in tits and snatch' saved the town from destruction, along with what he referred to as 'an obscene financial transaction between the bank widow and a magnate of monstrous proportions'."

"Good Lords of Kobol…he certainly expresses himself differently from any Ha'la'tha bosses I've seen in detective books."

"Tell me about it. One minute he's asking me if I plan to spend much of my pay on pussy and the next it's all this overblown stuff. Part crime boss, part erudite town father."

He winked at her over the top of his glass. "You should have been there. It was pretty entertaining."

She held out her right foot in a silent appeal for some help with her boots.

"What'd you tell him about your plans for your pay?"

He tugged the boot off, wrapping strong fingers around her ankle and squeezing lightly before running his hand up her calf, rough skin catching on the heavy cotton.

"Told him I was good in the pussy department. What all do you have under there, anyway? It'd be nice to touch skin sometime tonight."

He laughed as he dodged the second boot tossed in his direction.

"Be nice, Roslin…I don't think you're getting out of all that without help."

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TBC...

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