Author's Note: A couple things y'all.

1. Sorry I took a while! Had finals (went alright, didn't fail nothing, fortunately enough), and then I caught the flu! In 90 degree weather! Fuck that shit man. Anyways, I'm better, but I also regret that I have to say chapter three will also take a little while to post, I'm going on vacation for the next week. I wanted to get this out to you all before that though.

2. I also forgot to mention last time what the name of the chapter was about. It comes from a saying "Good girls are made of sugar and spice, cowgirls are made of whiskey on ice." Today's chapter comes from the saying "Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out".

3. Sometimes I get my buddy to proofread my stuff, but for the most part I don't have anyone to check for spelling errors or weird sentence errors. Sorry if that kind of interrupts the flow sometimes, I try my best to catch them, but after having read it over and over and over, I become blind to these mistakes. Hopefully you can bear with me and maybe just get a chuckle out of it or something. (Reading them aloud they sound really funny.)

And so, without further ado...

Chapter Two: Be Sure to Taste Your Words

Oh, how she should have known he'd be there to save her. Jack was the hero of all of her stories, why should this be any different? Stranded in the middle of nowhere, captured by a rogue, the dashing hero of her dreams comes to the rescue. What a man. She'd really hit the ball out of the park with him, as the saying went.

Morning light bathed over her aching eyes, which she kept shut on account of her raging hangover, while she stroked the chest of her boyfriend lovingly. She trailed her hand along the collar of his shirt, then down through the center of his abdomen, straight to the hem which she played with teasingly. Angela always felt a little self-conscious, acting like that. Seduction didn't come to the woman naturally, but he'd saved her, and in Angela's mind there was little more romantic than that.

"I'm so glad you came to rescue me, Jack." She cooed in a tone that was meant to be at least a little amorous.

"I'm not-" Well now that wasn't the voice she was expecting.

Bolting up straight, reality washed over her like a cold bucket of water. She squinted, bright sunshine etching pain into her eyes, trying to make out the identity of the man she was lying in bed with.

Upon realizing that said man was not in fact Jack Morrison, commander of Overwatch and also her really, really handsome boyfriend, but rather the roguish cowboy who had kidnapped her, she screamed. Loudly. And scrambled out of bed. With a pillow, for self-defense, of course.

"WHOAREYOUANDWHATAREYOUDOINGINBEDWITHME?" She blurted out frantically.

But the cowboy just lazily rubbed at his eyeballs, propping himself up with one elbow.

"Wanna try that one again, darlin'? Didn't quite catch it the first time." He chuckled. What, he thought this was a laughing matter? The asshole!
"Who are you…" She took a very, very deep breath. "And what are you doing in bed with me?"

"Well, I'm Jesse McCree." He smiled charmingly at her. She considered throwing the pillow at him for his antics, but she rather found it comfortable pressed against her chest. Like a barrier, of sorts. "And I was in bed with you because you asked me to be in bed with you."

"I did no such thing!" She huffed scathingly. Men could be such pigs about these things. All you had to do was get a little flirtatious on their chest when you thought they were a different damn man and all of a sudden their egos couldn't even fit in the room. She flushed bright red in a balanced mixture of embarrassment and anger.

"As a matter of fact, darlin', you did." His lopsided grin was quite infuriating, if you asked Angela. The fact that she also found it the tiniest bit sexy added fuel to the already raging fire. "Though I reckon you were a wee bit tipsy at the time."

It was then that things started to come back to her. She did remember being carried by a strong, handsome man, who at the time she believed to be Jack, which is why she thought him strong and handsome, mind you. Angela supposed she did wonder at the time why Jack had dyed his hair brown and had intended asking him about it later, but really, he was rescuing her so she could excuse a little hair dye. At least, she thought he was rescuing her. Now, under the sober light of day she realized just how damn stupid she'd been.

Well that'll teach a girl not to get drunk ever, ever again.

"So, you, knowing I was intoxicated, still hopped in bed with me?!" She squealed. "What kind of monster are you?!"
"I didn't touch you none!" He raised his hands in self defense. "Besides, had you been in my shoes, that kind of request you made weren't one that could be turned down."

Was it her, or was the guy blushing a bit? Moreover, why was he blushing?

"And just exactly what do you mean by that?" She hissed.

"You know what, nevermind what I just said." He huffed. "You're right, I'm sorry. Won't do it again, on my word."

He seemed honest enough, and so she relaxed visibly. Good to know he could be reasoned with.

"Unless you want me to." He added with a wink.

Angela did throw the pillow at him then.

"You scoundrel! You no-good-"

"Am I interrupting?" The scary looking gang leader from the previous night stuck his head into the room.

"No!" Turning to face the newcomer, she exhaled in a soft and yet infuriated tone. "I was just in the process of kicking him out!"

"Jesse that bad, is he?" The gang leader chuckled. "Always reckoned pretty boys never were that good in the sack."

Angela gasped dramatically.

"We did no such thing!" Her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh hush now darlin' I won't tell nobody if you're so damn embarrassed." The older man laughed.

"We didn't do it!" She exclaimed. Like she really believed him not to try and dangle that in front of her commander while he ransomed her away. These were outlaws she was dealing with!
The gang leader raised an eyebrow to that. "Well now Jesse, you must've really fucked up one way or the other. Can't tell which, though."

It was only then that she noticed the cowboy's proximity. He was behind her, hands teasing at the hem of her shirt like she'd done to him just moments earlier, mouth pressing into the shell of her ear.

"Oh, come on now boss." A low, dark chuckle emanated from his lips and rippled down through her body. "She's just a little shy is all."

"Right." At least the boss seemed rather unconvinced, which was nice since she didn't have to interject herself in the conversation to correct anyone again.

And that was really quite lucky for her too on account of the fact that a cowboy had just snuck up behind her and was testing her faithfulness to Jack (because, she had to admit, the way he traced his fingers around the top of her shorts, hooked his thumbs in her belt loops, and tugged at the fabric experimentally messed with her brain in a way she couldn't quite comprehend) basically rendered her speechless.

"Well, whatever the case Jesse we need you down in the meeting room." The boss raised an eyebrow at him. "Pronto, you hear me?"

"Yes sir." The cowboy replied diligently, detaching himself from Angela, which brought upon conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment for the medic. She really rather tried to ignore the latter of the two, but before she could find it in herself to reconcile the difference between the twinge of guilt in her heart and the shock of pleasure in her gut, the two outlaws had already left, leaving her alone in a strange room in a stranger country with nothing but time to dwell on her increasingly disconcerting thoughts.

"I didn't sign up for the torture innocent women." Jesse crossed his arms in front of him firmly.

"No you signed up to be part of the biggest, baddest gang in town and this is what we do, McCree." Growled Fourfingers. Jesse never had liked him.

"You ain't the boss." He stood firm. Couldn't be lenient with fellas like him, they'd walk all over you if you let 'em.

Fourfingers shot a questioning eyebrow at Lucky Sam, but the boss just stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"What you thinkin', McCree? If we don't torture her?" Lucky Sam wanted to know.

"Ransom her off for the payload, I say." He twisted the cigar in his mouth thoughtfully. Seemed like a bright idea to him, given the situation and all. According to the techies, the organization known as Overwatch was supposed to be escorting a handful of highly dangerous weapons along Route 66, though this wasn't news to anyone in the gang. They already had a plan set and ready for acquiring the goods, but then one Angela Ziegler, highly coveted doctor to Overwatch, just so happened to step into their lair, presenting Deadlock Gang with the question of just how exactly they could use that little turn of events in their favor.

"Could just keep her, get information out of her, get the payload ourselves and then ransom her back for money." Fourfingers protested.

"Liable to lose more men than we need to with that plan." Jesse shot back.

"What, you scared of a little gunfire, McCree? One night with a pretty lady and your skin turns thinner than paper."

"Don't make me force those words back down your throat."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Boys!" Hollered the boss. "Enough of that nonsense. No need to be measuring cocks, we're all gentlemen here."

The cowboy crossed his arms, leaning back against a nearby table, still glaring at Fourfingers. Never did trust that man. Took a little too much pleasure in watching men bleed, if you asked him.

"Jesse you've got an easy plan on you but Fourfinger's got a more lucrative one. Seein' as how we're in the business of money making, I'm gon' have to side with him." Lucky Sam stated diplomatically.

The boss was rather logical about how he approached things, and while Jesse did respect that well enough, he rather thought logic should be put aside when torturing women was in question. But Jesse reckoned Lucky Sam had a few screws loose when it came to morals, and Fourfingers didn't even have morals to begin with. Arguing with unethical men was what he got for kicking it with the Deadlock Gang.

"Ain't no way I can convince you?" Jesse wondered.

"I don't think so." Lucky Sam shrugged. "Exchanging her for the payload is also a mighty fine way to get us set up."

"If we're careful about it, we'll be fine. We hold the power here, don't you reckon?" He countered.

"Jesse, I don't know why you give such a damn 'bout that woman but you ain't likely to convince me on this one. Sure as hell ain't gonna guilt me into it neither."

He sighed. Jesse really didn't want to play his ace, but he figured it was his only choice right about then.

"You owe me one."

"Really?" Howled Fourfingers, cackling madly. "You're gonna waste your IOU on a little Swiss bitch? She fuck you that good, huh?"

He groaned inwardly. Wasting his IOU on her and she didn't even fuck him. But he had to, and he knew it. Fourfinger's method of torture might involve some of the classic types, but Jesse was damn sure the Swiss woman was liable to be raped by the bastard. Thinking of her crying, wailing, dying from that sort of treatment damn near tore a hole in his heart.

"Fourfinger's got a point, Jesse." Lucky Sam stated evenly. "You're right, I do owe you one, but I dare say it's foolish burn it on this girl."

"I can't stand by torture." He tried to stare a hole into the ground. Jesse's IOU was precious, and he knew it. The Deadlock Gang wasn't known for being the honorable sort, but the one thing they did respect were lives saved. The cowboy had saved his boss's life exactly once, which was a rare thing indeed considering Lucky Sam was just as talented as he was fortunate, and had been granted a very, very valuable IOU from the big boss in town. He'd give Jesse just about anything he wanted, within reason, and now he was using this mighty powerful bit of leverage to get a woman he just barely met out of trouble. Why was he cursed with sensible morals?

"You sure about this?" The boss asked a second time.

"I am." Jesse looked up, locking eyes with the boss to show him just exactly how damn sure he was.

"Right, well, bring her on down here then. We'll get our techies to phone up the commander, see if we can't work out a bargain."

Desert heat was what Angela had chalked everything up to. It was damn hot outside, damn hot in the room, and damn hot under her skin, which is why she blushed so much. And acted like a cat in heat.

She glared out the east-facing window at the morning New Mexico sun, or, at least, she thought it was the New Mexico sun. It could have been a sun anywhere in the southwest really, like an Arizona sun, or a Nevada sun. Truth be told, Angela wasn't really sure. She'd slept the entire ride over to the compound on account of having had one, one, glass of whiskey (and she was pretty sure it was whiskey and not tarantula juice like the bartender had said, since there really wasn't anything intoxicating about spiders), and even if she had been sober, her sense of direction was pitiful to begin with (it was how she'd ended up in this mess, after all), so there was really no telling where she was.

She might as well be in hell.

"Well Miss Angela, would you might accompanying me down to a meeting room real quick?" A now regrettably familiar voice wafted in from the doorway, and as she turned to look at the man, she saw one cowboy's head poking in through a crack in the door. He'd opened it so quietly too, which quite surprised her. He didn't really seem like the quiet kind of man.

"Do I have a choice?" She grumbled.

"Not really, but I figure it's nicer to ask." He smiled at her, though she decidedly did not smile back. Even if his smile summoned butterflies in her stomach. Damn southwestern heat.

"Very well, yes, Mr. Cowboy, I would be delighted to accompany you." She retorted sarcastically.

"The name's Jesse, darlin'." He replied as she followed him out into the hallway of what she suspected was a warehouse, if the industrial metal walls were any indication.

"My apologies, Jesse." She caught his dark brown eyes in a stare, and refused to let him go.

"Now that's much better." He chuckled. And it was so deep, she didn't know how. Angela had always thought Jack had a deep voice and while she suspected the commander's was a touch lower than Jesse's, the cowboy's was smooth and rich, like a Syrah red wine. The doctor never was much of a drinker, especially not of hard liquors, but she knew how to enjoy a classy glass of wine now and then.

Casting her her eyes away, she refused to continue the conversation. This man was far too flirtatious and, dare she admit it, tempting. He was exactly the sort of man who made an awful boyfriend, always on the prowl. It was best she remember that before her fancies flew away from her.

The duo descended down a metal staircase, through some open room with tons of crates, down another long hallway, and into a dimly lit room filled with computers and screens. Three other men stood inside, one of which she recognized to be the "boss".

"Alright, Trevor, you can phone him up now. Jesse, set the woman in front of the camera." The boss ordered.

"Camera?" She asked absently.

"Gon' set up a ransom for you, sweetheart." The cowboy smirked. "Need your peers back at Overwatch to know you're alive, don't we?"

So they'd figured it out, huh? It wasn't surprising, she'd given her name back in the bar, and they'd trashed her car as well. There was all sorts of identification in her suitcase, she was sure.

Jesse directed her over to a chair pointed at a camera, which she sat in without struggle. It was useless to do so, in her mind.

The boss walked over to stand in front of the camera as well, which rather surprised her.

"You're just going to let them see you like that?" She wondered aloud.

"Oh you already damn well know who I am." He grumbled.

She didn't, that was for certain, but it wasn't like Angela to pay attention to all the ins and outs of who they were or weren't targeting. She mostly just tried to stop the violence. So, she supposed it was possible that Jack and Gabriel already had an ID on the man, especially considering they were planning some sort of sting mission to catch some big baddie in the Deadlock Gang.

A few seconds later, without warning, Jack's face appeared on a big screen in front of her.

"Jack!" She exclaimed dramatically.

"Angela, what's going on?" He asked in that gruff tone of his.

"Well, now, Morrison, good seeing you again, ain't it?" Cackled the boss.

"Lucky Sam, I should have known." Jack crossed his arms and glared at the outlaw.

"We got your medic, in case you hadn't noticed, but we're reasonable men, we are."

"Oh?" Jack raised an eyebrow, but did not seem very happy with the situation. Well, obviously. His girlfriend was being held hostage!

"We're willing to offer you a trade you see." Now, Angela couldn't see the boss, but she suspected he was smirking right about then. "We'll trade you the woman for that pack of weapons you'll be escorting in a few days time. Yes, Morrison, we know all about those."

Angela tried hard not to smirk herself. What an idiot, he really had no idea, did he? She had to hand it to Gabriel and Jack, they'd done a good job setting this up. Lucky Sam, as his name appeared to be, was clueless that the whole weapon escort thing was rigged to get him captured.

"You really think I'm going to buy into that?" Jack grumbled. "Knowing your gang, you won't hold up your half of the bargain."

"Oh come on now, Morrison? Do we really seem that bad to you?" Lucky Sam laughed at his own joke. "Well, to make things right, we'll do it your way, as much as we see fit. I tell you right now, we had a tough debate on whether or not we should even ransom Miss Swiss right here."

"What do you mean?" Jack echoed Angela's thoughts exactly.

"Well, I was all for torturing her and seeing what the woman knows, but our man Jesse's sweet on your medic, and he convinced me to at least try to bargain with you first."

Jack frowned.

"Nothing happened, Jack!" She squealed. "He's just a perverted cowboy is all."

"That's not the way I heard it happened, is it, Jesse?"

The cowboy chimed in. "Ain't the way it happened at all. But I suppose Miss Swiss don't want her boyfriend knowing she slept with another man."

She gasped. Loudly. While it wasn't technically false, the implication was definitely wrong.

"Don't listen to them-"

"Oh hoh, boyfriend, eh?" Lucky Sam laughed at that. "Well that I did not know." Wait, how did the cowboy find that out? "Sure as hell got to accept our bargain now, don't you? Elsewise your girl will never forgive you."

"I can't risk put at risk all of the lives you would destroy if you got your hands on those weapons, even if it was for Angela." He stated firmly.

But he was just putting on an act, wasn't he? I mean, she knew there was an actual payload of weapons they had to deliver, that was true, but couldn't they still capture Lucky Sam in an exchange? If they played it carefully, they could save her and keep hold of the payload. She supposed it was a little bit riskier than the plan they already had, but her life was at stake, and Overwatch was a loyal organization, damn it! Surely they could pull it off somehow. Jack was just playing hard to get, right? Make it so they had to do things by his terms, right?

"Well now that's mighty cold of you. You sure you wanna turn this offer down, Morrison? Might have to torture your girl after all."

"Angela doesn't know anything." Jack glared at Lucky Sam. "She's just a medic. We don't keep her in the loop. The sort of information you're looking for is on a need-to-know basis, and she doesn't need to know."

Ok that was a flat out lie, but she wasn't about to say so.

"Still don't sound to me like you're accepting our bargain, Morrison. I'll give you one last shot at this, do you agree to our ransom demands, Angela Ziegler for the weapons?"

Her heart was pounding faster than it had in her entire life. Jack had to try and save her, he had to. He'd told her he loved her, hadn't he? It'd scared the piss out of her at the time - was she ready to love him back, was she ready to step further into the relationship - but damn it he loved her. He had to saver her.

"No, I do not accept your terms." His voice was cold as ice.

She could hardly breathe. Had he just said no? No he would not rescue her? What had happened to her knight in shining armor? Her boyfriend, her love? Well, hell, did she even love him anymore, when he wouldn't come to her rescue? When she really, really needed him to? They were going to torture her. Torture her. She was likely to be raped, and Jack was not going to rescue her? And, just to add to the experience, Angela was going to have to face the humiliation of crying in front of a pack of bandits because there was no way on earth she could keep the tears back.

"I'm sorry, Ange." She must have looked pathetic. How dare he pity her? How dare he!

"Fuck off." She choked out in between loud sobs.

"Oof, well I dare say that relationship has ended." Lucky Sam chuckled. "Better find yourself a new woman, Morrison, because she sure as hell ain't comin' back to you."

And with that, the screen clicked black and Jack faded from her vision. Good. She didn't want to see him ever again.

"Nice touch there, Trevor." The boss chuckled. "Excellent timing. Always did know when to end a conversation, didn't you?"

Angela noticed a scrawny guy near a computer shrug out of the corner of her teary eye. "I've a talent for it."

"I'll say."

The room was quiet for a few seconds following that. Quiet with the exception of Angela crying.

"So I guess we do get to torture her now." A dark, rough voice said in the back. Must have been the other guy in the room. She didn't really care, though. What Jack said had ripped her heart from her chest. They could kill her and she'd probably be happier.

"Well hold on now." Jesse piped up. "I didn't spend my IOU just to have her tortured in the end."

The fourth man snorted. "You'll get your fucking IOU back, McCree."

"He's right, Jesse." Said Lucky Sam. "I ain't an unfair man, you can have it back."

"I don't want it back." He said firmly. "Keep it, and don't torture her."

Why was he fighting for her? Was she really that pathetic? She tucked her head between her knees in shame.

The boss sighed. "God damn but you are a fool sometimes, Jesse. Fine, we won't torture her. Consider your IOU cashed in."

"That's all I was asking for." Jesse replied.

"Well, since you paid for her life, how about you take care of her then?" The dark voice suggested. "I don't wanna listen to her fucking sob anymore."

"Put a sock in it, Fourfingers." Jesse shot back. "She just got turned on by her boyfriend, can't you have some sympathy for that?"

"No, I don't give a fuck."

A gentle hand patted her on the back.

"Can you stand, sweetheart? Best we get you on out of here, don't you think?"

"God damn you're fucking whipped!"

"Hush Fourfingers." Ordered the boss. "Just because your heart is made of stone don't mean everybody else's is. Leave 'im be."

Angela shook her head in response to the cowboy.

"Well I bet you could stand if you tried hard enough." Jesse argued.

But she just shook her head again, hoping he'd get the message that she just didn't want to.

"Alrighty then."

Angela had hoped that meant he'd just leave her be, but soon realized that was not the case at all. Rather, the cowboy had decided the best course of action was to hook one arm under her knees and wrap the other around her back, hoisting her against his chest, and carry her out of the room. For all that Angela hated being manhandled by gang members and touched by men she hardly knew, there was no denying that his warm touch was safe and soothing in her current state. Deciding that she didn't much care about her image, or rather that it was far too late to care, she tucked her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the comfort he provided for her. Then, for the second time in under twenty four hours, Jesse McCree carried one exhausted Angela Ziegler through the warehouse and up to the bedroom where she hoped she might be able to get some rest.