[[ milliways ]]

[almosthonorable]

whitetextiswhite

It's early -- early enough that the bar proper is more quiet than loud. Ben likes mornings like this in here, when he can sit with his coffee at one elbow and his hat by the other on the counter, and he isn't taking up more space than might be considered polite.

This particular morning, he's also got a box of ammunition in front of him, courtesy of Bar; as soon as the gray light outside bleeds to red-gold, he'll stride out back for some target practice.

Comments

[almosthonorable]

"Oh, but I've got manners -- that's about as bad as it'll get, comin' from me," he says, opening the door for her.

"Unless you object to 'Goliath,' maybe."

[ellectrical]

It gets about the closest Elle comes to a puzzled expression as she walks through the door.

"Doesn't he die?"

Her Biblical knowledge is very, very limited, but she's fairly sure that's right.

[almosthonorable]

"Yes, ma'am," Ben says, conversational as you please while they head for the range. "But that ain't the point -- point is, he was a monster of a man, about nine feet tall."

A sideways glance at Elle.

"The humor's there, if you're lookin' for it."

[ellectrical]

It's the kind of humor she would get, but Elle, much like a small dog, often forgets her own size.

(Unlike a small dog, she has a reason for it.)



"Because I'm not," she gets, after a not-too-short time to think about it. She doesn't sound against it, in any case.

[almosthonorable]

"Because you're not," he repeats, adjusting his hat with one hand.

"Though I reckon there's always Peanut."

[ellectrical]

Okay, she does make a face at that.

A face that clearly reads, in an awfully grumpy manner, No.

[almosthonorable]

" -- or not," he amends, chuckling under his breath.

He sets down his ammo when they reach the range, and pulls a small box from his jacket pocket.

He studies the several pairs of earplugs housed inside with some skepticism; the napkin that accompanied them on the counter had said they'd help save his hearing out here.

[ellectrical]

Elle doesn't have anything like that on her, and she's eying the box with equal skepticism.

(Her Dad did used to make her wear earmuffs when she practiced at home; somehow she hadn't kept it up when she practiced here.)

"Are you going to wear those?"

She'd sound more judgmental if it weren't for that conscience-X-like voice in her head telling her it probably isn't a bad idea.

[almosthonorable]

"Never have before."

He picks up an earplug, evaluating it between his thumb and forefinger.

"But Miss Bar seems to think it'll help with the ringin'."

He holds out the box.

"You want a couple?"

[ellectrical]

Her eying goes from skeptical to somewhat suspicious, but she does eventually reach into the box and picks out a couple of the earplugs.

Rather then putting them on, however, she jams them into one of the pockets of her jeans for the moment.

"Don't use them on the job," she grumbles, with the definite air of someone who has worn them before.

[almosthonorable]

He glances up, head tilting slightly.

"What kinda job?"

He realizes then that, other than seeing how Elle can generate electricity and that she carries a gun, he has no idea exactly what she does when she's not in the bar.

[ellectrical]

Not really understanding, she answers, "My old job."

And after a pause, no more helpfully, "And sometimes when I work now."

[almosthonorable]

One earplug goes in; Ben pokes at it, testing its snug fit.

"What kind of work are you in?"

[ellectrical]

That's become a much more difficult question to answer.

But after only a moment, she decides to try Kate's.

With a small shrug that doesn't at all match her words, "Right now it's not getting killed.

[almosthonorable]

"Admirable."

Ben smiles, and there's something sharp and a little cold behind his eyes.

"I'm in that line, myself."

[ellectrical]

It actually gets something of a half-smile from Elle. But she pulls the earplugs out of her pocket again, and putting them in her ears with ease despite her earlier complaining.

Then, she twists, taking a step back, and behind him.

The unsaid question (or maybe closer to dare) is clearly, Are you going first?

[almosthonorable]

He jams the second earplug home with a slight wince. They feel strange.

With a glance at Elle, he nods to the target; ladies first, if she so chooses.

[ellectrical]

Elle's not accustomed to chivalry.

But she does give another shrug, and steps forward, though not far enough so that he's behind her. She pulls out her gun, checking over it once again (there's no particular fondness or anything other than mechanical attention in this gaze - it's not her preferred weapon) before she glances back to Ben once more, and then to the target.



They're not all perfect shots; only one hits the border of the center to her chosen target, the rest ranging from a couple to five inches off. Then again, if the target had been a person who couldn't come back from bullet wounds, they'd be unlikely to get up again. When she lowers her gun again, her expression isn't particularly readable.

[almosthonorable]

Ben squints at the target.

She's not a bad shot by any stretch; in fact, she's damn good.

When she lowers her gun, Ben gives her another nod -- it's one of respect -- and heads down the lane to switch out the paper target for a fresh one.

Returning, he spreads out the bullet-riddled poster on a nearby hay bale for Elle's inspection.

Unholstering his Colt, he checks the chambers.

Satisfied, he pulls back the hammer, double-checks to make sure Elle is a safe distance away, and fires.

Six shots later, he surveys his target; five shots punched the kill zone, one strayed just left of the center ring.

He holsters his gun and removes one earplug.

"Do you shoot with both eyes open?"

[ellectrical]

She takes out her own once Ben has finished, still not much in her expression.

At the question -

"It's how I do most things."

(Maybe she means it's how she aims with her usual weapon.)

[almosthonorable]

"Some people, they shoot with just one eye open. That's awful for depth perception."

He glances at her target.

"But, hell, even if you're shootin' with just one and doin' that? You're better'n most of the people I hire."

[ellectrical]

Her head tilts.

"You hire people to help you not get killed?"

She won't mention for the moment that she's also sort of done that by now.

[almosthonorable]

"I do."

(Though he hasn't in far too long; Christ, he hasn't put together a gang since Dan was shot down outside the 3:10 to Yuma.)

"I hire for labor and protection."

[ellectrical]

With a glance at his target, "Someone must really want to kill you."

[almosthonorable]

A pause.

And Ben laughs, low and full and rich.

"Yes, Miss Elle. A lot of people do, on my side of the door."