In which an outlaw evades death using questionable means
Mud.
That was the best way to describe the drink in Rarity's hand. Unfiltered dirtwater that had been diluted slightly by moonshine.
It even looked like mud, but she nursed the mug regardless. Alcohol was alcohol, after all. She'd have to treat herself to a finer selection once she got out of this backwater town.
The town's name escaped her at the moment, probably something uninteresting and related to coal, she hardly cared. What was important was that it had a saloon with available rooms.
It was the perfect place to lie low for a few days, small enough to be overlooked on most maps but large enough that visitors don't attract the attention of locals much.
When one robs a train, such places are a welcome reprieve.
Not that Rarity has robbed any trains lately, or ever, for that matter. If anyone asked, she was a silver heiress traveling around on Daddy's dime and seeing the west.
It did help that she looked the part: expensive boots, a light skirt so as to not restrict her movement, and a fitted blouse. Clean, respectable, and well kept.
If she was honest this was her least favorite part of any heist, the cool down afterward. Every other stage of the process either had her nerves buzzing and her pulse pounding. Even planning a job was more exciting. The anticipation never killed her, but it always came close.
However, this was the only time she allowed herself to partake in other pleasures. Her eye was drawn to a stranger who arrived after her, settled several unoccupied seats down away.
It was another woman, sharply dressed and remarkably clean, given the nature of the dusty paths outside. A businesswomen, Rarity surmised.
She was, unequivocally, the most interesting thing in the town, other than Rarity herself.
And she was attractive, even if in an adorable way. She anxiously fiddled with a pocket watch in her suit jacket, having already withdrawn a few coins to pay for her drink. A drink that she hadn't so much as touched since she got it, despite staring at it hard enough it might start to boil.
Nervous little thing, might be her first trip out of the big city. Rarity did so love to corrupt pretty young things such as her.
Drink in hand, she casually sauntered over to the other woman, easing gracefully onto the stool next to her. Beautiful eyes flicked over to meet hers, then retreated twice as fast to stare again at her drink.
Rarity giggled and choked down a dainty sip of her own.
"I'm not that intimidating, am I?" She asked the air between them teasingly. "I may be gorgeous, but I like to think I'm still approachable."
The other woman opened her mouth to reply, closed it, took a furtive glance around the saloon, and opened it again to speak.
But once their eyes met, words seem to escape her entirely.
She settled on looking away and nodding.
"Oh darling, you are too cute."
As always, the "D" word made the target of her attention shift and shiver. She fiddled again with the watch in her jacket and calmed her nerves.
"You're right." She said finally, and heavens she had such a wonderful voice. It was so soft and articulate, the opposite of everything you find west of Illinois.
"You are gorgeous, and a bit intimidating, but you're not unapproachable. You're actually quite alluring."
Rarity smiled at the flattery.
"But you're also dangerous, I think. You don't carry yourself like a soiled dove, and you don't look like a local."
Rarity made a pouty face at her. "Is a girl not allowed to seek a little adventure? If I'm going to be married off to some cattle baron's son, shouldn't I at least get to have some fun first?"
Some tension left the other woman's shoulders.
"I suppose, but I don't see much adventure happening here in Greenwater."
So that's what the town is called, Rarity thought. She sighed dramatically, draping herself across the other woman's side.
"Not everyday can be exciting, unfortunately. This is but a stop on my journey toward Canter Creek. I hope to get fitted for a gown there, something racy and white."
"For your wedding?"
"Terribly so."
It was all a lie, of course. She had no plans to go in that direction any time soon. Too recent was a bank robbed there, and they still hadn't caught the culprit.
Rarity smiled to herself at the thought and took another drink.
"That doesn't look like the face of someone dreading their wedding."
She waved off the comment. "Less thinking of the wedding, darling, and more imagining myself in the dress. I'm going to look damn fine, if I do say so myself."
"Yeah, you probably will." The other woman replied. Which reminded Rarity that she had yet to ask the sweet thing her name! How uncouth.
"I'm terribly sorry, but I haven't yet asked your name. My name is Lenore."
"Sophie." She said as they shook hands.
Sophie. How wonderfully fitting. She looked like a Sophie, same way that Rarity looked like a Lenore. However that wasn't her real name.
The world better knew her by her birth name. Her outlaw name.
"Rarity Belle!"
Rarity Belle. Crimson Belle. Funeral Belle. They all rang the same, usually slung alongside gunshots.
There was still time for that last part. She turned her head away from her new companion, staring annoyedly at the offender.
First, she noticed the light reflecting off his drawn pistol, aimed at her. Second, she saw the glint of the Marshall badge pinned to his breast pocket.
Johnny law hadn't gotten the better of her yet, and today will be no different.
"Hello, good sir!" She greeted cheerfully, as if oblivious to the danger. "Is there something I can assist you with?"
"You, in handcuffs." He spat gruffly.
"I believe you may have the wrong person. My name is Lenore, my father owns the silver mine down in Whitehaven, perhaps you have heard of it. The metal in your badge likely came from there."
Calm and even, her voice carried without a hint of worry, supreme confidence.
Seveal other patrons stood up from their seats, drawing guns and showing badges. A trap, seven marshals and three advantageous bounty hunters now faced her across the room.
"Your tricks and clever tongue will not save you."
"Now gentlemen, the only thing my tongue is in danger of killing is this fine lady right here." She taps Sophie on the shoulder, who blushes but can't look away from the scene. "I'm sure there's been some kind of misunderstanding."
She set her drink down and fully faced the group.
"There has been no such thing, miss. You are wanted on a wagon-load of charges and we're going to bring you in, dead or alive."
She so hated when negotiations break down. And she very much disliked collateral damage.
Luckily, she had two solutions for times like this.
Faster than a man can gamble away his savings, she flashed out her own weapon from the holster slyly hidden under her arm on her side.
Five shots rang out, five bodies dropped to the ground. She jumped backwards over the bar, landing mostly gracefully on the other side as bullets peppered the woodwork above her head.
Solution 1: Shoot first.
Sophie crouched next to her, amazingly quick. Rarity noted, she hadn't noticed the other woman take cover.
She heard the remaining men run for the bar, intent on reaching her before she had reloaded.
Unluckily for them, Rarity didn't need to reload. She pulled a second revolver from a concealed slit in her skirt, the holster nearly undetectable strapped to her leg.
She snapped to her feet with weapon already aimed, catching the remaining five attackers mid-sprint.
Ten bodies littered the floor of the saloon, no other casualties besides the poor bar. But all of her bullets found their mark, causing no damage to the rest of the saloon or its cowering patronage.
Solution 2: Don't miss.
She crouched back down behind the bar, spent weapon in each hand and still lightly smoking.
"Let that be a lesson for you, Sophie." She addressed her shocked friend without looking at her.
"A lady never gets caught reloading."
She caught her breath and tried to slow her hammering heartbeat.
"What's that make you, then?"
A voice spoke. It sounded like Sophie, but it was cold and gloatingly threatening.
The sounds of a revolver clicking met her ears next.
She turned to her new "friend", now seeing that what she thought was a pocket watch was in fact the badge of a US Marshal.
She stared owlishly at the badge, then at the beautifully crafted revolver. The barrel was ingraved 'Iustitia per crepusculum'. A promise, justice by twilight.
Finally, she made her way to Sophie's eyes. They were hard, cold, but yet... still so soft.
She'd been caught. She was done. Yet still, her previous thought was still correct. Johnny law hadn't gotten the better of her. She just never thought that Jane law would look so attractive.
"I don't suppose you'll allow me to take you in alive, will you?"
Her face softened, her icy voice took a pleading edge. Even after seeing Rarity effortlessly gun down her colleagues, she did not want to kill her unless it was necessary.
The question she really asked was if Rarity was going to make it necessary.
She slowly stood up, allowing herself to be led backwards out from behind the bar. Holstering her empty guns without breaking eye contact with the other woman, she tried to maneuver into just the right position.
"I didn't get this far by giving up." She said, "But I'll admit, you're going to force me get a little creative if i want to get out of this."
"There's only one way out of this that doesn't end in jail." Sophie warned.
"Then may I ask two favors of you before you take me away?"
The law woman paused and thought, nodding hesitantly. "Within reason."
"Buy a girl her last drink? I didn't have the chance to pay for mine, yet." She gestured to the broken mug on the bar.
Sophie dug in her pocket, only breaking eye contact for a moment while she set an approximate amount of coins on the bar.
In that moment, Rarity slipped slightly closer, halfing the distance between them silently.
When she turned back to her, her eyes widened at their proximity. Rarity stepped forward slowly, arms lowering until she could touch the weapon, not yet heated from use.
"What are you-"
"And for my second favor..." She pushed forward, invading Sophie's personal space while the gun remained cocked between them and aimed at her heart.
"...a kiss."
Their lips met and Sophie's mind locked up as she lost herself in the expert technique of the other woman. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Rarity was a very good kisser, but she would be lying if she claimed Sophie's lips didn't feel amazing against her own.
With a swift motion, she pushed Sophie's arm up and toward the ceiling, just in time for her instincts to pull the trigger and discharge into the raftors.
A deft movement of fingers had the cylinder open and the rest of the rounds fall to the floor between them, gravity aiding in her efforts.
Sophie's eyes sprang open in alarm, her mind finally catching up with the situation again. She pulled away, gasped, and made to speak.
She was stopped by a gentle finger on her lips.
"Thank you for the drink, darling. And for the kiss. See you again sometime?"
And before the other woman could reply, she stepped forward firmly and pushed, gracefully toppling her over the bar. By the time the lone law enforcer made it to her feet, the saloon doors had already swung closed.
Rarity Belle disappeared into the oncoming night, eleven victims richer but only to be charged for ten.
Hopefully she'd meet that law woman again. Perhaps over dinner. She'd definitely remember to bring a third gun, just in case.
A lady can't be too careful, after all.