the_gene_genie | OOM: Texas, 1888. Just outside Oakville

She snickers.

"It's the desert, Gene. There's probably a whole mess of 'em underneath your backside."

She sucks in a breath as she pushes herself off of him. Her joints are sore, for one; and, for another, she's gently aching where she had herself pressed up to his thigh. She straightens her clothes, and moves away carefully.

"Lots of things start comin' out after it cools off at night. He's all right, so long as y'don't harry 'im."

'Could say the same abou' me,' he mutters darkly, edging firmly away from the rock.

The idea of a mass of scorpions under there...yeeeeah, he's had nicer visions.

'How about we bugger off then, before any more of 'em turn up to try an' take lumps out of me when I'm enjoyin' meself.'

He catches her around the waist, never mind that she's moving away. He wants another kiss.

"Think I might have, actually, a time or two."

It's a good rule to live by, as far as Gene Hunt is concerned. She's snickering when his arms loop around her, tipping her head back against his chest so she can see his face.

"Think that's a fine idea, though y'should know better than t'assume I'd let anythin' take a chunk outta you that wasn't me," she murmurs, hands sliding over his wrists.

'Oh, well, you're allowed to.'

He smirks, and kisses her soundly, running a hand down the side of her breast as he does.

She snickers softly, tipping up into the kiss. Soon, the only sound she's making is a quiet moan. She laces her fingers with his, her other hand climbing halfway to curl around the back of his head and falling short just at his shoulder.

"Y'liked that, then?"

She matches the smirk on his face, breathing deep.

"I'll remember that later. Now, c'mon b'fore it gets too dark t'see the noses on our faces."

Edited 2011-08-17 23:08 (UTC)

'Would'a thought that were obvious,' he murmurs, pressing another kiss to her lips.

But then he does straighten, though his hands are clearly reluctant to leave her body.

'You can remember it as long as you like. I'll return the favour, no bother.'

Be glad to, in fact.

He meanders off in the direction of the horses, catching her fingers and tugging them lightly, before sparking a fag and drawing in a deep lungful. Marvellous. What an excellent evening this has been.

"Good."

She smiles, looking a deal more relaxed than she has all day. She lingers a moment where she is after his hand breaks from hers, pulling in a deep breath.

"Try an' keep Concession behind Beaut as we ride. Moon's nice an' big, but at least that way there's less chance of him steppin' in a hole an' breakin' a leg. It'll be slower goin' ridin' back at this hour."

She wanders up to Beaut, and unties her reins. Gently, she runs her free hand down Gene's spine.

"When we get back, you still have a lotta practicin' t'do."

'Why, is he a bit thick?'

He has long harboured this thought. Because surely, any horse...well, they're all a bit thick, actually, but any horse who can't see well enough to stay out of holes has to earn a special prize for dimness. He'd comment on it further, but then she says that, and there's no way he can leave it alone.

'Cheeky bint. I though' we established las' night that I'm quite practiced enough.'

She cocks a look at him, on her way to answering him with the obvious tease and jab. And then he finishes with that remark, making her eyes widen a touch and any comment she might have made dissolve into laughter.

"I meant," she says, leaning in and tugging at his coil of rope, "with this."

She grins sharply, getting to her tiptoes to plant one last kiss on him.

"Get in the saddle, lawman."

He pulls a face after he's returned the kiss, and turns to the horse.

'Tha's not nearly as much fun,' he grumps, good-naturedly, and shrugs with his hands at her.

'Waitin' on you, petal.'

"How gentlemanly."

She sighs, rolling her eyes and steeling herself for the ride back. There's no reason for Gene to know that she's been putting off getting back into the saddle, and so with all excuses exhausted she swings her leg up — and pauses — and gingerly settles herself down.

"When you see fit," she says on an exhale, taking Beaut out a few steps.

...annnnd, that'll be him doing a very bad job of hiding a snicker. One might be forgiven for thinking he wasn't trying to hide it at all.

He nudges Concession alongside, grinning through the fading light.

'Bit sore, are we?'

She turns her head slowly.

"Mind your tongue or you'll be joinin' me."

She holds her reins high and gives a little click, encouraging Beaut into a canter. She pulls in front of him, and allows herself a small smirk.

"An' remember t'stay in her path."

He chuckles, and mock-salutes at her back.

'Yea, ma'am,' he says, in a passable Southern accent (at least to his ears), and follows, as instructed.

Much of the ride passes in this fashion. It's slow-going in the dark, and there's less to occupy themselves with in the be-cloaked landscape. Still, at an easy walk it isn't too long before they find the road, and not long after that the city limits are within sight.

"We might do well t'mosey back to the hotel at separate occasions," she smirks, letting Gene catch up a bit. "Havin' been out all day, the two of us, headin' upstairs together bound t'make the kinda noise you like t'make would more'n turn heads."

'The noise I like t'make?'

That's a bit bloody rich. He pouts at her, then shrugs after thinking about it a moment.

'Fine. You go first, an' I'll go for a drink.'

Works for him.

She laughs. Can't help it, really. She's purposely teasing him, and when it gets a pout out of him like that she's reminded of just why it was worth it to work through all the arguments and frustrations.

They're coming up around the side of the livery when a singing through the air stops her laughter short. A liquor bottle explodes at Beaut's hooves, and the horse squeals and rears. There's voices and noises, and a raw ache in Kate's wrist from where the reins are pulled tight across bruised flesh. But for a solitary, terrifying moment the only thing Kate is aware of is the state of her horse, and the sudden crowing in her memory.

"Yeah, girl! How do you like me now?"

She sucks in a hard breath, pulling her gun from its holster while she's still fighting with Beaut. The horse is bucking and turning circles, scrabbling from the broken glass, and Kate is viciously twisting her body in the saddle, looking at every side street.

But she sees no one.

He hears the noise of the bottle in the air too, and turns toward it a second before it explodes in front of Beaut. He has a vague idea of the direction it came from, but is torn for a split-second, between chasing after the bastard that threw it and checking Kate's OK. She's still on the horse, though it's flapping about like a dead fish, and Concession isn't exactly calm either; he has to fight to straighten him out, and pull him away from Beaut's flying hooves.

Kate's still on her back though, and is man enough to stick there, he knows. So he yells, 'stay on the street!' as he thumps his heels to his horses' flanks, and takes off in the direction he think the bottle came from. His gun is in his hand without him thinking about it, but it becomes obvious pretty quickly that he's never going to see who did it; the side-street is dark, and opens out onto the stockyards where the bars are. There's people everywhere, it's hopeless.

So he turns back right away. He's only been gone a minute, but is already kicking himself for leaving her at all.

"Gene!"

Her voice is desperate, alarm choking any presence of mind she might have had to keep herself from screaming his first name in public. She's blind for a minute, Beaut's jerky movements and the adrenaline making her frantic. He's already dwindling from sight by the time she realizes which direction he's gone in.

And then she's alone.

Noises are far away now. Her breath seems to echo. She can still see flames licking up whitewashed walls, glass bottles exploding in columns of fire, men hooting and hollering inside her head.

Beaut grunts, and nickers.

There's a sound, like glass rattling behind her. She spins, gun cocked.

...Nothing. Nothing.

To hell with what he said. She gets Beaut inside the stable.

'Shit.'

Of course, she would not listen. Now he doesn't bloody know if she's gone to hide, ridden off after them or something's happened to her. The street's dead quiet though, and there's no suggestion of her yelling anything other than his name. He's sure he hadn't gone far enough to miss that. So, logic says she hasn't been attacked.

He's just turning towards the stable when he hears Beaut inside it. He's dismounted in a second, tugging Concession after him.

'You alright?'

He drops the reins, and heads straight for her, relief exploding through his chest.

'Kate. Are you alright?'

She's just getting up from examining Beaut's legs. She hugs her, burying her face against the animal's long neck. She hears the question the first time, but she's trying too hard to catch her breath and calm her heart.

"They attacked my horse, Gene!"

There were voices, male. She turns to face him, hand to her forehead.

"They know right where she is!"

They attacked her, the both of them; but she's too spooked to think that deeply right now.

'Oh, for God's sake!'

He catches her in a rough hug. Bugger the horse.

'They were goin' for you, you daft bint. Or at least t'scare the horse enough to chuck you.'

She has no choice but to fall into his embrace, her arms caught between them. Her fingers curl into his shirt and she holds her breath, head tucked under his chin.

She exhales, rough and trembling.

"Didja find 'em? Did-didja see who — who it — ?"

'No. Buggered off into the crowd. If they even wen' that way. I didn' get a good look.'

He wasn't paying attention. That's something that won't happen again, at least until he finds the bastard.

She sags against him, but only for a moment. Pulling back sharply, she swats his shoulder with as much oomph as she can muster.

"Don't do that again! What if it were one'a the men you roughed up? Goin' out there, in the dark, alone. The both of us alone!"

But she's honestly not as worried about herself right now. She always somehow manages to come out on top. The men who come with her, on the other hand...

Now that she's hit him, she grabs his face and kisses him fiercely. The thought has occurred to her that they may not be as alone as it looks, but at the moment the only thing she can think about is reassuring herself everything is okay.

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