OOM: Texas, 1888. Just outside Oakville

[the_gene_genie]

He's glad when she rides them out of town, away from where anyone might see this. It makes sense, of course. It'd be a bit stupid for her to be teaching him how to do this stuff in full view of the people who think he already knows how.

It feels weird to be back in the saddle after a few days out of it, though. Hurts, too. He'd thought these aches were going away but nope, they were only asleep. So it's a bit of an uncomfortable ride, especially coupled with the heat. He doesn't moan though. He'll be in trouble if she changes her mind about helping him here.

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[ikissdhimbck]

She watches him as he works the knots on his own, making sure he doesn't fight the natural twist of the rope and end up with a crooked honda.

"Not when y'got your honda knot tight. Y'want some natural give. Dependin' on what you're ropin', y'measure out coils."

She demonstrates with her rope, making her lasso stretch from one coil, to two, and back.

"Y'hold onto this end when y'throw your loop, an' then pull t'make it snug. Your stopper knot here at this end of the rope catches at your honda an' keeps it from slippin' through."

She gives another demonstration, tightening her lasso around her forearm to show how it closes in snug without coming undone.

[the_gene_genie]

He watches what she does with a slight quirk of his eyebrows. A sort of silent okaaaay.

'Right.'

Beat.



'...can I throw this at somethin', then?'

[ikissdhimbck]

...Right.

"D'you want me t'show you how?"


When she gets back to the bar, she's going to be sure to tell someone to smack her the next time she considers inviting Gene out to Texas. What could go wrong? Ahahaha. Ha.

[the_gene_genie]

'Well, obviously.'

He hates hates hates people having to show him what to do. But, yeah. Playing at this as a kid is not the same as doing it for real, and he can't afford to mess it up.

[ikissdhimbck]

She's not about to abide his attitude, though Kate has ways of dealing with it beyond getting upset or making idle threats. Her hand curls around the front of his shirt and pulls him in, close to her.

"Well come on, then."

She gives him another tug, and walks a few paces from the horses to the wide open stretch of land she saw from the saddle. She doesn't turn from him, or break eye contact, until she's ready to stop. Keeping him close to her back, she holds the lasso out with her right hand.

"Y'wanna hold your rope like this, y'see?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Mmm.'



...being told like this isn't so bad.

His left hand snakes around her waist. Just because. His right copies hers.

'And?'

[ikissdhimbck]

"And..."

Her eyes drop from his right hand to his left. She bites back a smirk, though there's amusement in her voice when she looks over her shoulder.

"You're gonna need that."

[the_gene_genie]

'I'm alrigh' with just one hand,' he says, with a straight face.

'Been practicin' for years.'



Wait. Are they talking about the same thing?

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate's going to venture a guess and say they veered off the same path a long time ago.

"Keep your elbow up."

She taps the underside of his arm playfully, but with enough force to nudge it about level with his shoulder.

"Y'wanna come from right t'left as you're swingin' your rope. So the back'a your hand..."

If she leans into him a little more, what of it?

"...should always be facin' you."

[the_gene_genie]

He gives it a go. It's not hard.

'S'all in the wrist, isn' it?'

If he holds her a bit tighter with his free hand, what of it?


'Knew I'd be good at this.'

For totally, innocent reasons, Kate.

Or not.

[ikissdhimbck]

She rolls her eyes.

He won't be catching anything with his form just yet, barring some sort of miracle. So, regardless of his reasons, she's not too concerned.

"Now, try an' feed your rope."

Which should be difficult to do, considering his left hand is otherwise occupied.

[the_gene_genie]

'Feedin' my rope's your job.'


Yeeeeeah, he's not holding out much hope for his promise. Not when he's kissing her neck like that.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Gene."


Hopeless.


Utterly, wholly, completely, unforgivably hopeless.

"You're gonna smack yourself in the head."

But, better his head than Kate's. At least Gene will recover from a smack to the head.

[the_gene_genie]

He drops the rope. Feeling her up is far more fun.

'Can' we jus'...stop for a bit?'

Have a drink. Smoke a fag.

...whatever else may occur in between those things.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Well, y'lasted three minutes. Must be a new record, for you."

Now, wait. Are they talking about the same thing?

She pulls out of his embrace and turns, fixing him with a scolding look.

"Y'have t'learn this, Gene. Now, quit bellyachin', an' watch me."

She takes a few steps and grabs her lasso, starting with the same form she was trying to teach him just now. She brings it over her head and starts swinging, getting her elbow into it and working up a nice loop. She flicks her wrist and the rope soars, catches an overgrown prickly pear, and with a flash her left hand has the rope twanging tight, honda closed snug over the 'neck' of her mark.

[the_gene_genie]

'I know,' he mutters. '...could learn it in an hour's time, an' all.'

He is not going to touch the jab at his staying power, which is how he took that remark. Not yet. She can pay for it later. But she's obviously not going to cave, so what he reckons is, the sooner he gets the hnag of it, the better.

So.

'Don' look too hard.'

He tries the same thing. And, predictably, misses by a mile.

[ikissdhimbck]

She almost asks him to go fetch her lasso for her, but she's not that mean. She yanks out the honda and gets her rope free of the cacti.

"You're holdin' it too high. And — "

She saunters back over and puts her hands on him.

"You're all wrist. Y'need t'get your elbow into it, too. Like I showed you."

[the_gene_genie]

He opens his mouth to make another joke, then closes it again. It'll keep.

Of course, it doesn't help when she's touching him, even if it is businesslike.

He lowers his arm a bit, and tries it with added elbow. It seems to build up a decent enough rhythm, but he's willing to bet she'll find fault with it somewhere.

'Better?'

[ikissdhimbck]

"Better."

She nods, once.

Not perfect, but. Better.

"Now, imagine you're ropin' the head of your steer. Y'wanna  —  keep your hand straight! Y'wanna throw your rope, an' when y'do your index finger should be pointin' to his left horn."

She shuffles over to his side, just slightly behind him, and demonstrates without the rope so he can see.

[the_gene_genie]

He's discovered a problem. Once you get into the rhythm, it's hard to actually let go.

'What'm I throwin' it at?'

[ikissdhimbck]

"Try for the cactus."

Might as well.

"S'just like throwin' a baseball."

She shows him the curve and the 'pitch' one last time.

[the_gene_genie]

'I've never thrown a baseball. I'm not a soddin' Yank.'

He throws it, despite the grumbling. He tries to do exactly as she shows him, but something must have gone wrong somewhere because the loop only half-catches around the top, and then slides off.

He drops his hands to his side, and sighs heavily.

'You do realise that I'm not goin' t'have to use this tomorrow. It'll be when we find the ones that were nicked, an' they're not in town. I'll not have to rope anythin' already in the yard.'

Which is to say, can't he practice this more tomorrow night?'

[ikissdhimbck]

"You're not a cowboy neither, an' jus' lookit you."

She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs at him. His rope is laying there on the ground, and the sun's completely gone by this point. All the sky is orange and red, and in less than a half hour it'll be dark.

"If you're lucky, you'll be right. But what d'you think you'll be doin' all day? You're a cowpoke, left in charge of a grocer, a cobbler, an' two farmers. What's gonna happen if there's trouble in the yards, huh? Of if they even so much as ask you a question?"

She scuffs through sand and stone and picks up his rope, pressing it firm against his chest.

"We'll be out here until you got the hang of this. I didn't take you for no quitter."

[the_gene_genie]

'I am not a quitter,' he hisses, riled at once.

'I'm tired, an' I want a soddin' drink, tha's all.'

He only works past six if there's something really big on. And OK, this is really big by the standards of the day, and he did volunteer for it. He's just whinging because...well, it's a few cows. It's not murder. He's in it because it's what he wants, and also because he wants to stop it becoming murder - but it's still hard to take it as seriously as he would a case back home.

At the same time, he doesn't want to be a laughing stock. So he coils up the rope again, shoots her a dark look, and puts some effort into it.

He probably swings it for longer than he should, or needs to. But he's concentrating. And it flies where he wants it to, and lands plum over the cactus. A sharp pull, and Bob's your uncle.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Don't you have a flask on you somewhere?"

She's never seen him without one. But if it wasn't whiskey, he'd be complaining about something else. Like sex, or being tired. Wait.

She stands back and watches him, duly surprised when he actually makes the mark. Her eyebrows hit her hairline.

"That was surprisingly effective."

She's found a new excuse to piss Gene off more often.