Work Text:
You go about your duties in the infirmary, currently tending to the latest railroad mishap, a broken and bloodied finger. Every day it’s something, and you’ve seen the worst of the worst, often fatal. Today has been a good day, considering. You clean the wound and carefully splint the man’s finger. He thanks you graciously and you send him on his way. The finger should heal if he can let it be for a while, though you know how demanding the rail work is. If he can’t work, he’ll be on the next train back to civilization.
The townspeople have developed a respect for you, as your help caring for the wounded and ill has proven invaluable. There’s one man in particular whom you patch up routinely, and who is particularly appreciative of the care you provide him. Just a few weeks ago, you dug a bullet out of his shoulder, hopefully the last one but that seems unlikely.
Speaking of… Cullen waits outside, seeing you’re busy. It’s midday, overcast and it looks like a storm is rolling in. Once your patient has left, Cullen enters, taking his hat off and taking in the space. He’s all too familiar with the infirmary. A couple of cots lie empty, thankfully, and a large cabinet houses various tinctures and salves. Your back is turned to him, as you wash the blood off your hands in a basin.
Cullen takes in your form, his eyes tracing your figure in your cotton shirt, vest, and skirt. Your sleeves are rolled up and your hair is slightly askew. You feel his eyes on you and turn around, drying your hands on some linen.
“Afternoon, [Y/N],” he greets you, smiling his devilish grin that makes you weak in the knees. The man is a tall drink of water, without question. From the day you met, there’s been an unmistakable chemistry between the two of you, a force compelling you to be together. He’s been courting you for a while now, but it hasn’t gone far. He’s constantly busy with railroad business, and you have your hands full in here.
“Cullen, what a nice surprise,” you reply, walking closer to him and smiling your own beautiful smile that drives him crazy. His pale blue eyes burn intensely into yours; you always feel as though he’s staring into your soul. His dark, unruly hair brushes his shoulders; those broad, strong shoulders… You try to maintain your composure, but inside your heart burns for him.
“I’ve a favor to ask you,” Cullen explains, “Since Sean ain’t in the picture anymore, I’m going to need someone to look after the books. Thought maybe you could help me out, temporarily.”
You consider his words, biting your lip as you process them. Cullen’s eyes scan your features and you feel the tension between you two rising. “You want me to look after them? Isn’t there someone more… Qualified?”
Cullen chuckles slightly and responds, “No, I’ve thought about it and you’re the most qualified one here for this. Besides, I trust you, and that’s more ‘n I can say about anyone else ‘round here. So… Will you do this for me?”
He peers hopefully down at you, and you sigh, you can’t possibly say no to such a request. Not from him.
“Yes, I’ll do it. But it’s going to cost you,” you state, a mischievous smile donning your lips, courage building within you.
“Oh, what’s your price?” he replies, looking down at you, a playful glimmer in his eyes.
“This…,” you say, as your hands come to his chest and you walk into him, closing the space between you. Your lips come to his, pressing firmly into them, and he kisses you back. His hands come to your hips and he holds you gently, letting you set the pace, and the kiss deepens, the passion within you both igniting, the longing need in you evident as you express your feelings physically, at last.
“Mmmm,” you moan into his mouth, and his grip on your sides becomes tighter, hungrier. You pull apart at last, breathing faster now.
Cullen stares down at you, grinning and clearly enjoying your idea of payment.
“Now, that’s just my retainer,” you tease him, “I’ll be collecting the rest later.”
“Oh? Well in that case, how about having dinner with me tonight? Seven o’clock?” he quips back, his hands still lingering on you, his thumbs tracing lightly over the fabric of your vest.
“I look forward to it,” you reply, biting your lip again in anticipation. A commotion starts outside, and Cullen’s attention strays to more urgent matters. He leaves you with a nod, walking toward the door.
“Stay out of trouble!” you implore him, and as he closes the door, he smiles at you once more, that playful grin that gets you every time. “Yes, ma’am!”, and then he’s gone.