Saiyuki Fic: Hungry Jess part 5 (original) (raw)

Rating for this chapter is probably up around R. Though, I'd still say it's worksafe. No, really.

Part the: First | Second | Third | Fourth

The Legend of Hungry Jess Thimbleton

~and Other Tall Tales~

Personages:

Goku ~as~ Hungry Jess Thimbleton, a fearless pioneer whose luck, strength and appetite are known throughout the territories.

Sanzo ~as~ Deadeye Sally MacGruder, sharpest shot west of the Mississip’. The only thing quicker than her revolvers is her foul temper.

Gojyo ~as~ Chief Iron Rod aka Clarence DuFay. A lecherous mulatto bandit from Louisianne, infamous for his dashing good looks, trademark war bonnet and fancy riding. Known kidnapper, drunkard and ravisher of women everywhere.

Hakkai ~as~ William P. Quincy, a demure school teacher from Duxberry, Massachusetts, who moved West with his sister and her new husband.

and

Nataku ~as~ Jenner Birch, Jess’s Rival.

Hakuryuu ~as~ White Lightning, a Faithful Steed.

Kougaiji ~as~ Wyatt the Red, Gentleman Bandit.

Dokugakuji, Yaone and Lirin ~as~ Dolly, Nancy and Lacy Varley, Wyatt’s Gang

Homura ~as~ Mr. Grover Teasdale, Son of a Railroad Tycoon.

Zenon and Shien ~as~ Cormac Finn and Yu Yun, Teasdale’s Henchmen.

Rinrei ~as~ Miss Catalina Barnes of the Savannah Barnes, a Lady.

also featuring

Hazel ~as~ Sheriff Eustace Brewer, an agent of Love and/or Justice.

Gato ~as~ A Giant.

Koumyou ~as~ Eveline MacGruder, Matron of the Crystal Peak Sanitarium.

and

Nii ~as~ Dr. Vernon Borowitz (alias), a Quack.

~Part the Fifth~
Vengence at Whipsnake Creek

Jess stretched and yawned cavernously as a ray of morning sunshine fell against his face. He blinked at the hole in the wall through which it had entered and the barred door now standing slightly ajar. Huh. His stomach rumbled a little, portending more serious hunger if he skipped breakfast. He hopped off the bunk and went to the door of the cell.

“Hello?” he called.

After several minutes with no answer, he slipped out through the cells and into the front office. It was deserted but for the revolver sitting on the immaculate desk.

William P. Quincy smiled cheerfully over the tall grass he was crouched in as he leveled his double-barreled at the boy’s chest.

“May I help you?” he asked, politely.

“Whoa, Mister,” the kid said, saucer-eyed, “Sorry I- uh. That is, I was just walkin’ and somethin’ ‘round here sure smelled good and I-“ He blushed as his stomach rumbled - either that or there had just been a stampede nearby.

William glowed at the compliment. Clarence had brought home a particularly juicy buffalo which had been just perfect for stew. His expression cracked slightly as he remembered what else Clarence had brought home last night. He shifted his hips viciously, taking care not to let his sawed-off waver. Somewhere in the tall grass, Chief Iron Rod moaned.

“You tease.”

William smirked and shifted again, producing a satisfyingly incoherent string of curses. Oh, dear. If that boy’s eyes got any wider, he might injure himself. However, Clarence was currently moving in a most distracting fashion.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment,” William said, and returned to the business at hand.

“You perverted bastards had better untie me right now!” Sally yelled - not shrieked, mind you - at the footsteps outside. Unfortunately, her struggles had broken one leg of the chair she was tied to and she was not in position to glare at her captors. She glared at the wall instead, causing the white wash to blister.

“Food!” Someone said, gleefully. The footsteps pattered into a run, skidded, and were replaced by loud chewing and appreciative murmurs. Disgusted, Sally cursed under her breath and debated whether to ask for help or lay there inconspicuously until this cretin left her in peace.

“You!” She barked, “Get over here and untie me. Now.”

The footsteps belonged the odd, brown boy from the jail yesterday, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s, a wooden spoon hanging from his mouth.

“Gee ma’am,” he said, “You sure seem t’ get yourself inta lotsa bad situations.”

“NOW,” Sally snarled.

“Ok, ok,” he said, “Who tied ya up like this anyway? Was it that weird guy hidin' out there in that grass? I was just walkin’ along mindin’ my own business and he pops up with a shotgun and starts smilin’ at me. Now, I wasn’t scared, but boy, was I hungry so I said-“

“Shut up,” Sally said, smacking the little chatterbox upside the head as he freed her arm. He reeled back a step and Sally extracted herself from the remains of the chair with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Hey, ma’am, what was that for?” he asked, rubbing the sore spot and getting gravy in his hair.

Sally shot him an exasperated look. “Just keep your mouth shut,” she said, looking around for a firearm. She missed her pistols. That shimmery pervert probably kept them under his pillow, slept with them against his warm, wiry torso, those strong hands wrapped around the grips, fingers tracing gently along the hammer, the trigger guard-

“Hey, ma’am, this is really good,” the slovenly boy said, waving his spoon at the stew pot, “Y’want any?”

Sally cuffed him again, nearly making him drop his bowl. Ignoring his whine of protest, she strode outside.

Jess licked the remains of the meaty brown gravy from his bowl as the lady darted right back in the door and crouched under a window, scowling.

“Get down and shut up,” she growled at him, her hands groping at her empty holsters again.

“Why?” he asked, crouching next to her and peeking up over the windowsill at the cottonwoods, “Is that weird guy coming back? D'you really think he made this stew? It’s really good. D'you think he’d make me some cornbread or some-“ the lady’s palm landed over his mouth, and she pulled him down out of sight with a grimace of disgust.

“You have gravy on your face. And didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” she said, low and fierce “It’s not those perverts. There are three of them, and one is walking with a cane. If you’d quit yapping and listen, you’d hear them too.”

And Jess did, now that she mentioned it- heavy steps swishing through the dry grass and dead leaves near the river. He peeked over the sill again, but she planted a palm on the top of his head and dragged him back down. Her body was slight but solid against him, her skin cool.

“They smell like cheap cologne,” he announced, wrinkling his nose, “Hey, I’m Jess Thimbleton but you can call me Jess. What’s your name?”

“Shut. Up.” She snarled, “I don’t want to have to deal with that asshole again until I can shoot him. If he finds me because of your howling, so help me I’ll shoot you, too.”

“What happened to your guns?” he asked, making a conscious effort to speak quietly. She gave him a withering look and peeked around the door frame quickly.

“Hey,” Jess said, “Why don’t we just go out there and beat them up if they’re bothering you? I’d let you use this gun,” he pulled the pistol from where it’d been tucked into his waistband, “but it’s out of ammo.”

“Lucille!” she whispered. She snatched the gun from his fingers, and pressed it to her chest a moment before checking the chambers, her movements precise and practiced. “Where did you get this?”

“I took it off the Sheriff’s desk. Is it yours? Y'know, I thought you’d look prettier 'f you smiled, but it really doesn’t, um...” Jess trailed off as she paused to glare at him, her blond hair shining in the dusty light streaming through the window.

“Um. Can I call you Lucy?” he asked.

She smacked him upside the head - fortunately, she used the hand that wasn’t clutching the pistol - and set about extracting bullet after bullet from her bustier.

“It’s Sally. Now make yourself useful and find whatever weapons those fruits have stashed in this house. And stay quiet!”

Will was warm and pliant, his long, thin arms circling Chief Iron Rod’s broad shoulders in a loose embrace. Will had been in favor of dozing on the riverbank until it was time to start supper, but the Chief had felt it best to go and check on their captive, and somehow - he wasn’t quite sure how - it had all ended up with him cradling Will’s slight weight, hot soreness reminding him at every step of what they’d just-

Cheif Iron Rod shivered a little at the memory and felt Will smile against his neck. The smile became a long, wet stripe from shoulder to pulse point and the snake of tongue into his ear. His knees rebelled. Suddenly the lush, soft grass by the path looked mighty inviting.

Gun shots rang out from the direction of the house.

Will sucked hard on his ear lobe.

Someone yelled something indecipherable.

The Chief found his fingers curled around the swell of Will’s buttocks a bit more intimately that simply carrying him required.

The sounds of wood cracking from the house and White Lightning kicking restlessly at his stall door.

Will biting gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

Suddenly, a dark-haired man in a long Chinese shirt and baggy pants stepped from the brush.

“Excuse me,” he said, soft voice only slightly accented, “But have you - ah, that is…” He blinked at Will’s circumstance for a moment, before a large red-haired man crashed out of the woods, nearly falling into him.

The newcomer peered at them and laughed something in a brogue thick enough to drown a moose.

“Oh?” Will asked, and, in a nearly seamless motion, he extracted himself from the Chief’s arms, did something to the Irishman that dropped him like a rock, and scooped the Chief up like a blushing bride.

“What- “ The Chief sputtered.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Will nodded to the first man.

The barn’s loft was filled with sweet-smelling summer hay. Will’s eyes glittered as he lay the Chief gently into it and set about unbuttoning his pants again.

~Tune in next week for Part the Sixth: The Angel in the House~