"Woody!" Jessie whined, her grip slightly looser on Buzz's shoulder from her exhaustion, "It's hot!"

Her brother turned around to face the complaining redhead. Drops of sweat strolled down his forehead and onto the ground. They seemed to evaporate from the pebbles underneath of their feet from the warmth of the sun.

"No kidding," he mustered, taking off his hat and waving it to dry his moist skin, "At least your dress has some circulation. I just happen to have chosen the right day to wear black…"

"Excuse my interruption," Buzz interjected, adapting to Jessie's pistol jabbing against his shoulder blade, "But are we almost to your place of residence?"

Answering Buzz's question, Woody extended his arm out and looked over his shoulder, showcasing a remote barn that appeared to undulate with ever-present heat waves. Wordlessly, the cowboy nodded and turned his body to face forward again. Buzz struggled to swallow his fearful tone in his next question.

"S-so w-why do you need me in the first p-place?" he questioned them, feeling the nozzle of the gun digging into his damp jacket.

"Jessie, relax" Woody demanded without turning to look at her, "He only asked an innocent question." After a long moment of silence, a grin slipped onto Woody's face as he twisted his body to steal a glimpse of Buzz. "A brother knows his sister only too well," his calming voice told him, "I'll explain everything when we reach home."

As the house grew closer, Buzz extended his neck out to see an aged crimson barn along with a flourishing field.

Interesting, he thought, This is the last place I thought bandits would live…. I thought they would live a nomadic life so that they can get away easily if they were to ever be caught. And if the fields are so green, he pondered, mindlessly stepping on the uneasy porch steps, why have they let their house and barn deteriorate to their condition? he concluded, peeling off the chipping beige paint from the exterior.

"Hey! Keep your hands off!" Jessie demanded as she pushed Buzz to the indoors. Boy, was she a strong girl or what. And feisty.

After stumbling over the threshold due to her shove, Buzz slowly erected his posture and took note of the unusually dim living room. Adjusting to the dark, his eyes flew around the room, catching a cabinet full of china to a beautifully carven wooden table with matching chairs that surrounded it. Buzz hastily turned to look for Jessie after he saw Woody go into another room. His sight led him to the slender cowgirl at the curtains. She swiftly opened them, causing Buzz to squint from not expecting the intense brightness of the sun.

"Whoa!" Jessie exclaimed, mimicking Buzz's position by bringing her hand to cup her forehead.

"That explained the darkness…," Buzz mumbled to himself, hearing Jessie's footsteps fading away. The young gentleman walked over to the table and pulled out a chair for himself. Sitting the in silence, he watched the dust particles in the air fly around somberly. Not knowing whether to call out for somebody's name or to sit patiently until one of the Pride siblings returned, he knocked on the table with his knuckles resulting in a randomly paced tune.

Looking down the hallway, he noticed that if he sat in a certain angle, he could easily see Jessie walking around in one of the rooms.

That must be her bedroom, Buzz thought. Her back was facing towards him as she buttoned up her shirt, unaware of Buzz's observation. What struck him odd was the fact that she was wearing pants (which, he guessed, probably was a pair she stole from his father's shop). Women wearing pants was completely foreign to him. Living a life as a son of a successful industrialist, and due to his good looks, he would constantly get offers from eager mothers and ecstatic young females for their hand in marriage. These women came for backgrounds like his own, so they could afford the most luxurious dresses and carried themselves in a daintily and delicate demeanor. Buzz sat closer to his seat's edge as he watched Jessie braid her own hair. He was completely fascinated by her.

During Woody's arrival into the dining room, he followed Buzz's eyes and scowled.

"Hey, buddy," he growled, hitting the back of his hand against Buzz's shoulder, "Eyes over here."

Twisting his body to the cowboy, Buzz's face dropped as he pushed himself against the back of his chair.

"I-I'm sorry," Buzz stammered, "I-It's not w-what it looks like. I-I'm n-not t-that type of guy. I-"

"Save your breath, "Woody cut in, pulling a chair across from the stuttering heir, "Let's just skip your pathetic apology and get down to business."

"W-what do you want to talk about?"

"So your daddy owns 'Lightyear Textile Company'?"

"Correct."

"And…that company is going to be government owned?"

"How do you know that?"

Woody smirked. "Lets just say, I know my way around town."

"A-alright. Proceed."

"So…you know the mayor? Personally?"

"I just recently met him, yes."

Woody leaned closer, rubbing his hands. "Then, I have a big favor to ask of you. Scratch that. Demand from you."

"What would that be?"

"I want you to have that lying scumbag give my sister and I all our money back that he took from our grandparents."

Buzz blinked for a moment and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm trying to comprehend what you just told me."

"It's just how it sounds."

"But I-"

"Oh, I suppose you still think this mayor guy is a nice guy?"

"Well I-"

"Listen, Buzz-"

"Mr. Lightyear."

"You're kidding, right?"

Buzz crossed his arms and glared at him. "Alright," Woody sighed, "Listen, Lightyear. Mayor Pete, or what my sister and I call Stinky Pete, isn't too nice of a guy. He stole for my grandparents. Back in the forty-niner days, my grandparents struck it big when they found the large amount of gold they had found. Stinky Pete was just a young man when he joined them. He lead an independent life when he ran away at the age of thirteen and took care of himself. Because my grandparents were generous people, they took him in as his own. One day, after years of alliance, they couldn't find him. My grandfather, Andy Davis, found that a large sum of their gold was missing. Coincidentally, he ran for office. My grandparents were old at that point, and they were going to give the gold to their daughter, Bonnie, our mother. My grandfather died that night and my grandmother went missing. I was seven years old at the time; Jessie was only an infant. Our mom was furious and thrashed her words to Stinky Pete."

"What happened next?" Buzz asked with concern swelled in his eyes.

"Let's just say it got heated," Woody added, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled back the fabric and showed his shoulder to Buzz, exposing a large scar.

"What did he do to you?" Buzz questioned, bringing his hand to his mouth in shock.

"He took his anger out on me. Before I knew it, his pickaxe ripped through my flesh. My mom screamed at him, her tears strolling down her face. The next day, he didn't want the news to spread due to his running for city council, so he had my mother arrested. But she had already changed her name from my father's last name to Anderson and escaped with him and us to this home you're in right now. It use to belong to a couple named to Petersons. But we always called them Mr. and Mrs. Potatohead because we reckoned they had the best vegetable garden in town."

"D-do you think he still has the gold?" Buzz inquired, an unmistakable sound of doubt in his voice.

"I don't care if he has our gold. I just want the money that he stole from our family name. I want the people to know what kind of criminal he really is. I want him in prison!"

"I-I'm very sorry about what had happen but I can't…I mean…h-how can I trust you?"

"I am willing to put my life at stake to go into town tomorrow and call the leader a thief."

"But what about me?"

"You were missing due to the most wanted robber in town," Woody explained coolly, "You were basically kidnapped. People will just think you're the victim."

"Then…why do you want to do this if you are sure that you can be killed or imprisoned and I get off scotch-free?"

"Because I trust you to tell the truth. And I hope you feel the same way about me." Woody brought his body forward and rested his elbows on the table. His eyes were full of sorrow as he stuck out his hand. "Deal?"

Buzz bit his lip and hesitantly slipped his hand into the cowboy's. "You got to promise me I will be back home and safe. My father is very ill and I need to take care of him."

Woody showed him a small grin. "Deal. Though, I can't completely guarantee there won't be problems along the way."

"I think you're a man of your word. I trust you."