Dust motes danced in the morning's first sun coming through the grimy windows of the Gem. A sleepy whore was giving the last handjob that stood between her and a few hours' sleep in her narrow bed, her customer squeezing his eyes shut against the light and his impending spend. Smells of bread toasting on the cook-stove and eggs starting to sizzle in butter wafted in to hit against the night's smell of liquor, smoke, and sweat. An early morning chill came through the door, followed by the scruffy little mayor.

"Morning, E.B."

Dan shoved the coffee pot across the bar and went back to his whetstone and knife.

"Good morning, Dan." The little man's voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you readying yourself to be dispatched on some nefarious and secretive mission, acting, perhaps, in orchestration with the bizarre newcomers in our midst?"

Dan rolled his eyes at a puzzled Johnny, looking on.

"Nope. Just sharpenin' my fuckin' knife."

"E.B." Al looked over the rim of his reading glasses. "Get a fuckin' cup and get over here."

He went back to reading his paper at his battered table while E.B. settled in the chair across from him.

"What should I know?" He kept reading as E.B. doffed his ragged top hat and fiddled with his spoon.

"An odd couple, with little understanding of the niceties of conversation and no interest in edifying social intercourse, preferring instead to seek discourse with the unworthy and the unwashed over a congenial interchange with their betters."

"Dan!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Go over to the hotel and burn E.B.'s fuckin' thesaurus." He shook his paper with irritation.

"Al…." E.B. bleated, offended.

"Just tell me what the fuck you saw and heard, E.B., and spare me the fuckin' flowery prose."

"Very well," he groused. "They ate in the dining room, talking more to the half-wit Richardson and the Abyssinian cook than me, the woman being more talkative than the man. She seemed fascinated by the half-wit's pagan antlers."

He sipped at his coffee. "If I may be allowed to share my impressions…" He paused until Al waved him on. "I doubt they're married, as their rutting seemed more in line with what one would expect from adulterers and fornicators than Christian married folk."

Al raised his eyebrow. "Plaster fall in the stew?"

"Merrick demanded I strike last night's supper off his tab," he said with a mournful face. "Over one little chunk and some dust falling in his carrots."

Al turned a page. "Go on."

"The man, if he suggested he is over fifty years of age, is a liar. He is younger than his appearance, I've no doubt, as evidenced by their degenerate coupling. He took his harlot once on the bed, and again on the floor, within the space of an hour!"

E.B. sounded a bit awestruck and more than a little bit envious.

A heavy sigh issued from the swarthy cutthroat.

"So, E.B., the information you bring me is that they would rather talk to the help than to you, and they like to fuck. Jesus Christ, let me open the safe to get adequate funds for your recompense for those helpful insights." Al rubbed the bridge of his nose, wondering once again why he let E.B. draw breath.

"Since Adama's ridden out already and his woman is at the school, do I need to draw you plans for tossin' their room, or can you manage that on your own?" He silenced the mayor with a look and went back to his paper until Farnum had made his way back out of the door.

Finally folding the Pioneer closed, Al turned to the men at the bar.

"Dan. How'd the gunplay go?"

Dan left the bar to sit at Al's table, refreshing both their cups.

"Man's used to a heavier gun with a shorter barrel, seems like. Preferred the Remington over the Colt. After a few rounds to get the feel, he shot true enough. Not bad with a rifle, neither." He cleared his throat. "I, um…still had One-Ear's Remington and holster upstairs, so I told Adama he could use it for the time bein'."

He noted the question in Al's frown. "One-Ear, him that I...that passed while you was sick."

"And what, pray tell, was the cause of his passing?"

"Not keepin' his fuckin' mouth shut when I told him he was gettin' on my last nerve." Dan's voice held a hint of righteous indignation. Hell, he'd tried to warn One-Ear more than once to shut up.

"Anyways, about givin' Adama the Remington...hope that was okay."

He relaxed at Al's snort. "Ain't like I'm ever gonna use it. Go on."

"Well, I showed him the roads into camp, that we'd gone over in the map-reading. Lessee….he met Hawkeye, and I don't think he was too impressed with him. Went by Wu's, and damn if he didn't say hello" or some such in fuckin' Chinese…got a bow outa Wu, I can tell you that." Dan chuckled at the Chink boss's reaction.

"Plans for the day?"

"Adama said he wanted to reconnoiter the Spearfish Meadows as a stagin' ground, see if there's a logical place outa camp for armament storage."

A frown came over Al's face at a step he'd left uncontemplated, such steps being rare.

"Why would we want to store arms out of the camp? Don't that risk getting caught with our pants down, balls in the breeze?"

Dan shrugged.

"Said past a certain point, the risk of blowing ourselves up with too much armament outweighed the benefits of havin' it handy."

"So he's thinkin' more than guns and rifles being at hand."

Dan nodded thoughtfully.

"Now, he didn't say, and I ain't asked, but you want my opinion, he's had experience as a gunner or the like, cannon and such. Got an eye for that kinda damage."

Al spent a bare minute fantasizing about a cannon blast through the second floor of the hotel, landing a cannon ball in Hearst's gut, while he rubbed the stub of his chopped-off finger. The image brought his first smile of the day.

"You think he's goin' to reconnoiter and come straight back?"

"It were me, I'd be going back to where I stashed my gear, see if everything's still there."

Nodding, Al rose from the table. "Keep some distance. You get spotted, tell him it was at my direction."

Dan stood up, shoving the chair back under the table.

"And if he should run into any trouble out there, thieves or heathens or the like?"

Black eyebrows drew together over dark green eyes speckled with brown flecks that looked like old blood.

"Do you need me to tell you to cut the throats of whatever cocksucker interferes with our new associate?"

A ruddy flush came over Dan's stubbled cheeks. "No, sir."

His worn heels rang on the wooden floorboards as he turned and walked hard out of the saloon.

Directin' me to do murder on Adama's behalf on his second goddamn day in town,he thought. He didn't even take to Adams that quick.

Dan was halfway to the livery before the hurt eased up on his feelings.

.

TBC