Word Count: 1,240
Archive: DarkMagick.net, Apollymi’s Grimoire, and Archive of Our Own. Anyone else wanting it, please ask first. I’ll probably say yes, but ask first…[endsection]
The next morning, the whole of the Seven set about trying to get the good people of Rose Creek ready for war.
Emphasis on trying.
By noon, Joshua was already verging on ten thousand percent done with these folks. He’d done his best to get a rifle line set up, to make things a bit easier for Goody to see what he was working with, only to discover that most of these men apparently didn’t even know their right from their left. And that wasn’t even counting the one farmer who’d arrived with a hoe rather than a rifle or the barber showing up with his goddamned straight razor in lieu of anything that might actually be useful.
Then, when he left them to go see how his other mates were doing—and feeling a little guilty for leaving his Cajun to deal with the stupid, especially when those blue eyes had given him a look screaming what fresh hell is this?—he found that Gabe had already decided the bullshit wasn’t worth it and was helping some of the ladies of Rose Creek begin on repairs to the church and that Billy was ready to stab literally everyone in the face for walking off from his knife training. Which meant that by the time he got back over to where the rifle line was set up, Joshua was not in the best of moods or tempers.
So the fact that Goody had managed to get them all lined up and set to actually hit the targets with little effort, only for every single sorry son of a bitch to miss entirely? Well, there wasn’t much to say about that.
“Jesus wept,” summed it up beautifully.
“Y’all are starting to piss me off,” Goody remarked dryly, and Joshua thought that that might also sum things up terrifically in regards to their chances. Hell, he was ready to give Jack and Adelaide and Sunset and Diablo guns, and those were their goddamned horses who might have a better shot at hitting a target.
To Sam, however, he remarked, “Statistically speaking, they should ‘a hit something.”
He listened as his Cajun berated the men, but felt himself bristling when little Teddy Q, who was likely all of a buck seventy-five soaking wet, actually snarked back at Goody. Hell, he was ready to shoot the little shit and make Miss Emma a full-on widow when whats-his-face next to him shot off his rifle for no apparent reason.
“That’s the second time for you,” Goody remarked, thoroughly unimpressed and making Joshua wonder what fuckery he’d missed while checking in on the others. “Go make me some eggs.”
“The damned hammer—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it! Have a nice afternoon,” Goody interrupted, and it was more than obvious to the Irishman that his mate was nearly as done with all this shit as he was. Joshua felt himself tensing up a bit when the man turned to leave, the barrel of the rifle facing his mate. Goody, however, apparently had balls of pure iron given that his full reaction was simply, “You gonna—you gonna point that thing at me?”
Then the Cajun tried, for what must’ve been the second or third time, to impart a little bit of wisdom on the rifle line. In his opinion, it was sound advice. To be honest, Joshua had been too young to fight in the war, even if he had devoured everything he could read on the heroes from both sides; he wasn’t great at reading, but when the subject interested him then he damned well gave it his all. Hell, he’d been a Missouri boy, could have easily fought for either side, but he’d always been a wee bit fascinated by the sharpshooters and the accounts on them.
Now that he actually had one of his very own, it was a fair bet that he’d be keeping him.
“Fire when ready,” Goody was saying to the line when he tuned back in fully, but it was followed by a snapped order when the men simply stared at him. And… for fuck’s sake, they managed to miss everything again.
“I am amazed that this many men,” his Cajun drawled, and yep, he sounded even more done than Joshua, “could miss that many targets. Twice. I am looking at a line of dead men.”
Oh, shit. That was not a happy tone, and Joshua pushed himself off the fence to go fetch his mate before he turned around and shot one of those sorry sons of bitches. He could already hear Sam chuckling at his back, and it was so tempting to turn around and hit him one, but Goody was his priority right now.
“C’mon, babe,” he said, catching hold of Goody’s arm right as he was about to lay into the whole lot of them. “Walk it off. Let’s go.”
“These men can’t hit the broad side of a barn, mon coeur,” he hissed, glaring over his shoulder at the rifle line. “And that’s from the inside.”
“I know, darlin’, I know,” Joshua said, tugging him around and wrapping an arm around his waist securely. “We’ll let Billy come yell at ‘em for a bit. Let’s go take a break.”
“Okay, but only because you asked,” Goody said, although he did glance back and snap, “Hate what you are shooting at! Hate it! Get some gravel in your craw! C’mon!” Under his breath as he turned back around, he muttered, “Goddamn sons of bitches.”
“I know, sweetheart,” the redhead replied. “They need a lot of help. We’ll get back to them later.”
“They done pissed me off.”
“I know, babe. They’re pissin’ me off, too.”
He managed to get Goody back into town without running into anyone who might just annoy the Cajun further—and he was including Miss Emma in that, given how snippy Teddy had been back there—and up to their room in the boarding house. Unsurprisingly, Billy was already there and polishing some of his knives, and he sat up abruptly from his slouch when they walked through the door.
“Who am I stabbing?” was the first thing out of his mouth, and Joshua bit back a laugh.
“Oh,” Goody drawled, “everyone. No, seriously, everyone.”
“No, babe, we ain’t killing them all,” Joshua said, shooting a look at Billy along with a firm head shake just in case his mate got any ideas in his head. The Korean rolled his eyes but made no move to actually go kill anyone. “C’mon, Goody,” he added, pushing the older man towards the bed and, when he dug in his heels, flung himself down while pulling Goody with him.
Billy put aside his knives and moved to join them, settling on the Cajun’s other side and wrapping his arms around his waist. Joshua chuckled and tugged both men in more securely, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Goody’s head. “These people are very annoying, I know,” he murmured, tucking his chin against his mate’s shoulder. “So we’re taking an hour or so to just… ignore them all. Maybe Gabe’ll come see where we all wandered off to, climb in, too.”
“Mmm, okay,” Goody sighed, relaxing little by little. “But if they don’t shape up, I’m shooting one of ‘em.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“No, you ain’t.”
Joshua grinned as he and Billy spoke in unison, grinned a bit more at Goody’s chuckle. They just needed a moment to unwind, to think on what still needed done in order to actually save this little town without risking their own lives, and then they could rejoin the world.
In a little while.
[section=Footer Notes]06 March 2017No real translation notes this time, mostly because there’s nothing really new under the sun here.
I can say, though, that it’s nice posting on this one again. The boys gave me hell, but I overcame the block and got more of a surplus up! Also, sadly, there aren’t too many more chapters remaining for this story, so we’ll be keeping with the every other Monday posts for this one with Wicked Ones: Letters and Journals on the alternating Mondays… because somehow, those days are lining up with just when we’d need that particular snippet to go along with the main story. Don’t ask me, I’ve not a clue!
~Adora & Katsuko [endsection]