almosthonorable | [[ milliways ]]

[ two weeks prior, or, once upon a time in El Paso ]

Ben's coated in sweat and grime from a fourteen-hour day when he walks into the bar.

Just across the threshold, he pauses.

This is ...

Well.

It's certainly more surreal than usual.

Stepping over and around debris — and taking care to avoid knocking into see-through patrons — Ben picks his way across the bar proper. Amid the general mayhem, a tinny, crackling song plays from what has to be a phonograph, maybe hidden somewhere in the rafters.

"Now that is unsettlin'," Ben mutters to himself.

As if on an eerie-ass cue, the floor tilts beneath his boots.

He grunts, and catches his balance with the help of a nearby stool. Righting himself, he notices the glowing red gem hovering over the counter.

"All right, you've got me," he says to Bar. "Color me curious."

A moment later, his battered brown hat is gone, and he's sporting a rough-hewed pair of decidedly feline ears.

He holds back a sigh.

"That is what killed the cat, as the sayin' goes."

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"El Paso," he says. "Been stayin' at the Acme. It's not the bridal suite we had in Contention, but it'll do."

A beat.

"And the sky ain't the color of wrath, so there's that."

"I'd have t'bring Bogart," he says.

"All right — pack up the bacon ball."

He tips his head toward Phoenix.

"What about her?"

"...would it work, walkin' her out your door?"

If they're gonna be gone for any stretch of time, or travel anywhere, he could use the horse. But if he's only got a few days...what would the point be, aside from getting her out?

"I mean...if we can't get me back, s'just gonna mean you've got another horse t'deal with."

Ben's jaw sets.

"It'll work just fine. We'll get both of you back here, end times or no."

Dan wasn't resurrected — so to speak — just to crumble to dust thanks to an apocalyptic goddamn hiccup at the end of the universe.

"If not, you just take the horse out t'the ranch for me. They could put her to good use."

He moves for the tack room.

"I left Bogart upstairs, but we can get her situated first 'fore we get him."

"All right."

Ben pulls a small, worn notebook from his pocket, and steps toward Doc's desk in search of a writing utensil.

"I'm gonna leave a note for Doc out here — if he's around, I bet he'll be checkin' in on the stock every chance he gets."

He lifts a pen from a pencil cup, and starts scribbling while he speaks.

"I'll ask him to keep an eye out for Les and William, let William know you left with me."

"Good idea," Dan says, as he moves with an armful of tack towards Phoenix's stall. "I've seen him around in the bar a few times, mostly comin' and going. He'll be more likely to get it if you leave it here...who knows where Bar might lose it to."

Once the horse is saddled and loaded up with an extra two days worth of grain, they head back for the bar.

"I figure we can tie her out to the porch for a minute or two - it won't take me long t'run upstairs."

"Oh, Dan, you're just askin' for a tasteless joke about your bum leg with that one."

The smirk that crosses Dan's face is glorious in nature.

"Actually," he reaches to his knee, pulling up his pant-leg to expose the futuristic prosthetic that has replaced the wood and iron that used to grace his leg-stump. "The boy got me a mighty fine Christmas present last year."

Ben whistles, low and appreciative.

"Well, now I am truly sorry for gettin' smart. That's ... hell, that's nice."

"S'some sort of cast metal that's a helluva lot lighter than the old one used t'be. S'easier t'git 'round with this one."

His fingers are practically ice as he tries to tie the reins of the horse to the porch railing.

Ben reaches out, offering to tie the reins.

"Here, I got this — I'll sweet-talk her while you go fetch Bogart."

Phoenix snorts, and Ben can't help but chortle.

"You do like me, you little spitfire."

"I'll be back in just a minute."

And with that Dan heads into the bar to navigate his way through the disaster upstairs.

Forty-five seconds after Dan heads inside, Ben takes a slow step backward, well clear of Phoenix's bared teeth.

"Now," he says, with some measure of authority, "you're just bein' ornery for the sake of surliness."

Phoenix feels like she has every right to be surly - between the massive explosion, the fear on the air, the bitter cold, the changes in the atmosphere and the fact that everyone else in the stables has been just as pissy - so Ben Wade had better recognize that fact and step off.

So there.

Dan returns with a bag slung over his shoulder (inside are a few small items he couldn't stand to leave behind, as well as a solid amount of cash - he'd had the treasure from the dwarven mines converted into familiar currency months ago) and he's holding his rifle in one hand, and a leash in the other.

Said leash leads to an apparently empty harness.

"He's there," he promises, looking at the horse, and then back at Ben. "Maybe...maybe you should walk him, and I'll take her."

It may end better for everyone.

Ben tilts his head, studying the space that Bogart should be occupying.

"You sure you've been feedin' him?" he asks, taking the leash. "Because from the looks of it, he's wasted away."

"He eats better than I do," Dan protests.

There is a phantom grunt-oink from below at the mention of food. Bogart is present and accounted for, indeed.

And with everyone ready, they head into the Bar. It takes every ounce of Dan's calm to keep Phoenix from spooking horrendously; Ben has to urge Bogart to move his bacon ball ass at least six times.

(Wade feels like a fool, talking to an invisible pig on a string, but if it means they get the hell out of here before that Window shatters, then a fool he'll be and gladly.)

Ben's door works, and without further fanfare - unlike the Loompa parade moments earlier - they're gone.

[[ milliways ]]

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