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Chapter Text

The sky was as empty as the endless plains of the desert. You planted your hat on your head, exhaling and grabbing your skirts, throwing them up onto the saddle of your horse. “Alright, Commander.” You patted the chestnut mane of the steed, who snorted and tossed his head fraternally. “Let’s head into town.”

The ride to town was warm and windless, aside from the artificial breeze that formed around you and Commander. The rhythm of the horse was almost lulling, soothing to you, a familiar tune you knew too well.

A smile tugged on your lips as you tapped on Commander’s hips, clicking your tongue, feeling the horse speed up. Your hat stayed on by the grace of God and the strap around your neck. You rounded up around the cavern, turning and glancing at the winding roads below.

You paused squinting at the wagon approaching with alarming speed. A dust cloud was around it, high and wide, catching up. You knew the crack of bullets well enough to know you had to get down there.

You frowned and tugged on the reigns, reaching into your saddlebag and grasping the revolver you kept in there. “Let’s go, Commander.”

The horse snorted. You imitated a snort back and dug your heels in. The horse followed your tug and ran down the gentle slope, finally submitting to the urgency of the situation. Your thighs squeezed tightly around the saddle as you loaded the gun, spinning the barrel and clicking it together. You aimed, level with one of the highway men approaching the wagon.

There was a crack and the one in your sighs flipped off his horse. You turned your attention to the wagon, where a man was kneeling atop it, rifle in hand, aiming with steady hand. The driver was still whipping the reigns like crazy.

You rode in from the side, pointing at a second highway man and shooting his leg. He yelped at gripped his leg, tumbling off the paint, who simply snorted and turned, racing away, dragging the man after it.

The shooter on top of the wagon glanced at you for a moment. He tilted his head, couriously, the gaze throwing you for a temporary loop before he nodded and aimed back at the oncoming people.

You rode in front of them all, Commander’s legs thudding faithfully on the ground. You pulled up as close as you could to the wagon, picking up your legs and turning, pointing your gun and aiming it steadily.

"I’m glad you can assist!” The man with the rifle shouted, pumping the forestock.

You grinned, glancing up at him, hat lost in the wind around you. His curly mop of hair was bouncing in the wind, glasses teetering dangerously on his nose. “I came at just the right time, darling!” You yelled, shooting your revolver once more.

If he said anything else you failed to hear, too distracted with taking care of bandits around you. The gun clicked and you glanced down at the open hammer, cursing.

A hand stuck down, shocking you. “Give me your hand,” The man said, laying on his stomach. He was reaching a hand down, open, creased, expectant. You nodded and gripped it, surprised at the strength under his lanky coat. He expressed no strain other than a simple grunt as he lifted you up onto the top of the stagecoach. “Your horse?”

“He knows the way to town.” You took the pistol the man tugged out of his belt and handed you. “He’s smart.” You laid on your stomach next to him, aiming over the back.

The man nodded simply, aiming and firing the rifle. He smiled behind the butt of the gun, planting it firmly into his shoulder as he cocked it again. “Good horse. Wish I had one.”

“Commander doesn’t have a sister.” You chuckled, picking up your head, hat tugging at your neck. Your fingers worked away the string and you sat up, watching the last couple highwaymen ride away, cursing at the wind. You laughed, glancing at the man next to you. “I don’t reckon you can’t give me a ride to town.” You smiled sheepishly, pausing to admire the gun. It was incredibly intricate, elegant- swirls on the ivory stock, glistening in the sun.

“On the contrary.” His hand took the pistol, gently tucking it into the holster. “I’m heading there right now.” He nodded at the driver, who nodded shakily back, but resumed driving like the dickens. “Perhaps we should get into the coach.” The man walked to the side, kneeling, holding up a hand to you. “Ladies first?”

You grinned at him, picking up your skirt and sweeping a leg down onto the windowsill, sliding in. The man followed shortly, body moving almost effortlessly into the window. His feet landed steadily, and he dusted a layer of grime off. “Fantastic.” His full lips pressed into a grimace.

You crossed your legs under your skirt, ignoring the red clay stain across the fine yellow of it. The man removed his glasses, examining the lenses, and you took a moment to admire him- a layer of dust coated his fine dark curls, his skin tanned but smooth, lashes long as his eyes inspected the glasses for a final time. He tucked the kerchief into his waistcoat and placed the glasses on his face, turning to you, in his full bespectaled glory. “I apologize. I didn’t properly get to introduce myself.” He smiled, gently taking your hand, kissing it in ritual. Your cheeks warmed before you remembered this was a typical greeting of city slickers. “I am Victor Trech the Third, Medical Doctor.”

You blinked up at him. “Why are you all the way out here in Marauder Valley?” You scooted towards him. “And a doctor with a shot like that?”

Victor shrugged and settled down in the seat across from you, fingers running in his hair to release the stubborn dirt. “I am a man of a few talents,” He stated, quite simply. “A Jack of all Trades, Master of none…” He waved his hand, implying the ending.

“But better than be a master of one.” You pressed your jaw into your hand, smiling at him, skimming his face again. His eyes were stunning- astute, clever, with an intelligence that was not nearly as dull as his interior voice implied.

They shone now. “Ah! Familiar with the rhyme?”

“A couple.” You leaned your head back on the seat. The hat crushed under your shoulders, so you tugged it off, resting it on your knee. “So, where does a man like you learn to shoot like that.”

Victor’s eyes glinted- perhaps a trick of the light in his glasses- and he settled back in his seat. “We shan’t reveal our secrets to each other so quickly. I wanted to try to take our time. I’m sure the ride to Marauder Valley is quite long…?”

“No.” You shook your head, hair unbraided. You reached back and tugged it over your shoulder, just to re-weave it. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minuites.”

Victor’s lips pressed into a smile, and he crossed his own legs. “Then I am fortunate to be in such good company.”

___

The sheriff was the first one to greet you. His brows raised as the good doctor climbed down first, aiding you down. “Well,” Hunter chuckled. “Last one I expected to see with you.”

You grinned at him, glancing down at the stain on your skirt, voice emerging in an easy drawl. “This is the good doctor you’ve been waiting for.”

Hunter grinned and took the hand that the willowy doctor offered. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor Tech.”

Victor hesitated, but seemed to polite or distracted to correct the sheriff. “Thank you, Officer.”

“Just Hunter. No badge right now.” Hunter smiled easily. “Commander’s at Cid’s. You should-”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed, turning to look at the doctor, who appeared quite handsome when not shooting highwaymen. “I’ll catch you later, Doc.”

“I should hope so.” ‘Tech’ replied, and you felt his eyes follow you as Hunter lead him towards what would be his new office.

___

The next time you came to town, you were wearing a blue and white dress, hat still faithfully on your head, and your journey was uninterrupted by any lurking villains. You made your way into Cid’s Saloon & Generale Shoppe, nodding politely at the owner. “Hiya, Cid.” You dropped a stack of leathers onto the counter, sighing at the effort. “A good load.”

“No bullet wounds?” Cid picked up a rabbit skin to inspect it. “And you brought in those plants I ordered for that there Doctor?” Her knuckles rapped her temple as she thought. “Tech?”

Ah, the nickname stuck. “Oh.” You looked at the pouch on the counter, quietly scooting it back into your hand. “I didn’t know that was for him. I’ll run it to him.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Cid turned, moving the skins to the back counter, out of reach of especially grabby patrons. “I’ll have your pay and drink ready when you come back.”

“Sasparilla?” You grinned, tapping on the counter, adjusting your skirts as you walked out.

You remembered the general direction of where Dr. Tech’s office was from the last time you had been in town. It took you no time to find it- it wasn’t far from the Saloon, because if someone got shot they couldn’t afford a particularly large amount of time.

You opened the door, glancing up in alarm at the bell ringing above your head. “Oh!”

“One moment!” The tenor voice was sweet, familiar, a drop of cool water to you.

You glanced around the waiting room. There were a few chairs, extras from the church, probably, and a few frames on the wall. You walked quietly to it, reading the fancy inscription on the college degrees lining the walls, this particular one from the Medical University of South Carolina.

As you tilted your head, quick footsteps rounded the corner. “Oh! Oh, Miss.” The good doctor bustled in, smiling. “I thought Cid was bringing the herbs.”

“Next time, I’ll tell her to send one of the girls.” You grinned and held out the pouch. “If that’s what you-”

“No! No, you’re fine- excellent, really.” He grinned at you, sheepish, cheeks sploshing a subtle pink. “Quite a- well, anyways, do come back here.” He motioned you with long fingers, walking you towards the back. “Have you been getting herbs long?”

“I grow them, actually.” You tugged at your skirt, wishing you had picked a less frivilous dress, or perhaps an apron. The doctor cleaned up well. “I do a lot of hunting and gathering.”

Tech grinned back at you, opening the pouch. “I didn’t have you pinned as the type.” He opened the nearby cabinet, tugging down a pestle and mortar, the two objects being set down with a weighty thunk. “No objections.”

You grinned at him, suddenly glad you wore the pretty dress and had managed to avoid getting it stained. “So… Tech, now?”

His ears colored, and he cleared his throat, working on smashing a vibrant yarrow. “The name stuck. I quite like it, actually. It seems to have provided the towns folk around here with a sense of… comroidere with me.”

“Mm.” You leaned on the counter, watching his hands work. Your fingers traced over their unusual smoothness, save a few callouses on his thumbs and pointers. “What are you going to do with that?”

“The yarrow has many uses.” The doctor smiled, hands pausing in their task. “It is a broad medicine, helping quite a bit with cramps, toothaches, so on.” Tech’s hands moved back in their familiar motion, the rhythym of their work falling into a steady pattern.

It was almost hypnotic. You watched him, interested, as the bitter aroma of the crushed plant wafted towards you. “Any patients?”

“A few.” Tech’s brow furrowed as he worked harder on the flora, a smooth paste almost all that was remaining. “You have a lot of toothaches around here. The people are quite kind, though. I really enjoy it.” He tapped the excess off the wand, laying it on a towel. “It’s a good change of paste from Boston.” He smiled at you, again, eyes sincere. “I’m glad I met you first, though.”

Your heart thrummed up to your throat, and your own lips pressed into a smile as you turned, walking towards the door. “I am, too.” You paused for a moment. “Hey, Doc.”

Tech turned.

“You can come up and see me any time. A wagon won’t get you there, but Wrecker- yes, that’s his name- always has extra horses.” You smiled at him, opening the door, not as shocked by the bell this time.

Tech’s lips drew upwards, teeth showing, eyes shining like honey in a hive. “I will take you up on that. It sounds like a… profitable offer.”

___

Tech’s presnece was announced by the dogs. You heard them barking and ran out of the leathering barn, relieved when you saw his familiar form climbing off the horse. He smiled bright at you, taking off his hat. “Fine day, miss. I hope now is a fine time.”

You felt like jumping off the roof of your house. You glanced down at your breeches, speckled with old blood and drying materials, and you smiled at him. “It’s as fine a time as any.”

His eyes skimmed your legs- the pants, a scandal in their own sense- and he quickly glanced away, distracting himself. “A- a lovely home.”

“Thanks.” You nodded at it, glancing out at the skies. the skies were clear, with grey swathes in the distance- perhaps the night. “You cane just in time.” Your stooped and picked up a basket, resting it on your hip. “You can lay your jacket on the fence. I’ll show you where to gather some sage.” You tugged your hat onto your head and began walking, slowly, listening for him to catch up.

The good doctor was dressed far lighter today, relaxed. He strolled by you, reaching over to take the basket. “Allow me.” Tech took it gently, hands soft as they moved past yours. He moved easily through the trees, the bushes, pausing to reach back for your hand. “Do you require assistance?”

Normally, you didn’t, as this was a task you reveled in alone. But you took his hand and stepped, half unsteady with a trembling heart. The doctor’s hands remained firm, supporting you. You stepped to him, perhaps too close, and you glanced up, inches spaced between you both. The doctor blinked for a moment, clearing his throat, warm hands moving from your and to the basket. “Thank you,” You mumbled, striding a little ahead of him. A smile was still bright on your lips, heart thrashing violently in your ribs. “It’s not far.”

The day was warm, and you knelt by the patch you knew, the ground was speckled with the brilliantly golden light of the sun. Your hands worked over the sage, feeling for the elongated leaves.

Tech squatted down next to you, watching and mimicking your movements. “Have you been gathering a long time?”

“Yes.” You smiled and began stacking the leaves into the basket. “My papa started this, I’ve been living here since I was a babe.” You tore a sage leaf, inhaling the scent, smiling at the thoughts tied to it. A warm fire, a sweet lullaby, a bitter tea for illness that could patch up almost any ailment. “Life has been good to me.” You sunk to your knees as gathered more, eyes catching that of Tech, who was watching you with enchantment.

“And to me,” He said, gently, running a hand over the patch of sage. “I’m delighted I was able to come here, and run into the likes of-”

His eloquent speech was interrupted by a rumble. You glanced up, standing, reaching down. “Hurry,” You grinned, eyes dancing. “It’ll be hell when it rains.”

His eyes locked on yours and an unspeakable expression was on his face as he stared up at you- admiration, you dared say, and it made the smart doctor very stupid for a moment. He grasped your hand, rising, the basket abandoned in the sage as he ran after you.

Sheets of rain began to fall, and your hand stayed secure in his. You jumped easily over a bramble, turning back to watch his blithe legs leap gracefully over same bush. You landed hard, falling back, crashing.

Your lungs burned for a moment. The rain was cool on your face as your hands flew up to your chest, and you gasped.

Your body rose, suddenly supported. “Steady, you had quite a fall,” Tech said gently, walking with you in his arms now. “You seem alright. Let’s get you inside.”

___

You had changed into a more modest nightgown when you got inside, sitting on your bed as you hiked the skirt down. The good doctor was waiting patiently outside the door.

You sat down, quiet, watching Tech come in and lower a small medical bag. He smiled gently, sitting down, professional as a doctor could be. “You seem to be faring better.” Tech smiled and opened the bag, moving through it with familiarity. “Just the wind knocked from you?”

“Yes, it’s not a feeling I’m fond of.” You chuckled, tugging your nightgown up to your ankles. “I got a little scraped up, sorry.”

“No, it’s quite fine.” Tech produced a small vial, examining the minor wounds with wise eyes. He had removed his glasses because the rain had made the lenses hard to even dry off.

You watched his hands work, rubbing the balm in gentle circles over the scrapes. “You know,” You said, sucking in a breath at the slight sting. “My mama used to kiss my scrapes better. Especially the bramble ones.”

Chuckling with good humor, Tech glanced up. “Did it work?”

You nodded, leaning back on your hands. “Yes, it did.” You hesitated, watching his fingers pause for a moment along your ankle. “But I think it was just… a mind trick.”

“Well, the mind is powerful.” Tech settled his hands down, closing the lid to the balm. “Sometimes, it-” he glanced back up at you, honeyed eyes sweet in the fireplace light. His fingers drew away, softly settling back against your ankle. He glanced down at his hands, then back up at you, cheeks warming, then at his hands again. “Sometimes it works.”

Slowly, Tech drew your ankle up, inhaling quietly, pressing his lips gently to the scrapes. His eyes held yours, and he said, softer, “Better?”

You nodded, breath leaving you in a better way than before, and you held out your hand. “And this. I… hurt it.”

His lips pressed in amusement as he scooted up on the bed. “How?”

“I just did.” Your brows raised.

Tech smiled, gently taking your wrist and turning it over, examining, warm lips gently pressing to the pulse of it. Your fingers curled at the warmth, and you hummed, happy. “Anywhere else?”

Your free hand drew up, smoothing over your cheek. “Here,” You mumbled, watching him slide closer to you on the bed, and he softly held your face. His hands were cool, soft, but you could feel the experience in every ridge. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in, lips you had noticed on your first meeting greeting your cheek. They stayed there, longer, drawing back after you turned his face, running your thumb over your lower lip.

Tech’s thumb followed the motion, eyes tracing the movements of his fingers. “And what’s wrong here?’

"Nothing,” You breathed, the proximity intoxicating you. “Just… precautionary.”

“Mm.” Tech mumbled, eyes moving between your own and the lips. “Precautionary for… what exactly?” His words held amusement, the curve on his mouth supporting your theory.

“Everything,” You rasped. “It worked everywhere else.”

Tech sighed gingerly, tugging you in, fingers resting under your chin. His lips were warmer than his hands, sweet, and they tasted like peppermint and tea, everything good. Your hands rested against his arms, reveling in the sweetness of his lips, breaking away from his healing touch.

The thunder rumbled outside again. Tech paused, glancing at the window. “I should go back.”

You shook your head, sitting up again, fingers finding themselves wrapping in his shirt. “Stay,” The word was more pleading than you intended, though you wanted him to be here, his presence, just to… hold your soul in his. “Please? The cliffs are dangerous. I’ll take you first thing in the morning.”

Tech paused, nodding softly, laying back on the comforter. He tugged your head to his chest, kissing your hair chastely, sweetly, and when he exhaled you ran a hand over his ribs. You were halfway asleep when you heard Tech realize, “I left my coat outside.”

You must have fallen asleep, and he must have had the mercy to not wake you, because the morning found you in the same place, on his chest, finger still in the cotton of the good doctor’s shirt.

Chapter Text

“Miss,” Two small hands tugged you out of the lull that the train had put you into. “Miss, come on. We should go,” Olivia’s eyes were bright, cautious, under her hat.

You blinked, rubbing your eyes and nodding, glancing around. “Alright. Is this-?”

“Yes. Our tickets said Maurader Valley.”

Nodding softly you stood, picking up your carpetbag and Olivia’s hand, walking her quickly to the door of the train. “Thank you for waking me.”

“You’re welcome.” Olivia’s free hand moved and gripped the fabric of your skirt, her gaze shifting around them. The words were sudden, shaky. “I’m frightened.”

Your hands grasped hers gently, and you paused on the platform your feet landed on. You turned to her, kneeling down in front of her, making sure her dark eyes met yours. “I am, too.” Your fingers squeezed hers, reassuring her that she was not alone.

Olivia’s cognac eyes were far too wise for her age. It almost threw you off the first time you had met her, but that anxiety had been entirely replaced with an overwhelming sense of love for the child, which was why you were here, as far southwest from them as possible. “They’ll have to get through me first, Olivia. You’re safe with me.” You reached down and gently readjusted the brim of her hat. “You’ve been so, so brave this whole time. I need you to be brave for a little longer.”

She gave a small nod, her fingers squeezing yours in response. “I’m brave,” She repeated to herself, in a whisper, as you stood and lead her towards the ticket counter.

___

Your thoughts were tremulous as the stagecoach bumped over a rock. You both had left so quickly in the dead of night, you doubted anyone knew you were all the way out here. At the very least, it would bide you time to get a little money or, at the best, find a loophole in the Disavowment- there were only two ways to leave the Order. They were old, they were stupid, but you didn’t know how long you could run before your past caught up with you.

Marriage or death. And you weren’t very pent on dying soon.

The stagecoach ride to Maurader Valley was long but uneventful. Olivia fell asleep with her head pressed on your lap, the bushels of skirts offering more support than a train window or a log. You smoothed a hand in her curls, the sunshine hair speckled with brown underneath at the base of her scalp.

The coach came to a halt. You lurched forward, grabbing for the window for support, and Olivia sat up. Her hands grasped you, eyes wide.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You gently took her and pulled her close, hugging her. “Just a quick stop.”

Her breathing slowed, and she tugged away, quiet. She nodded, following you out. “This isn’t a… Big town.”

“No. Not really. But that’s what we need at the moment.” You exhaled, reaching into the carpetbag and tugging out a newspaper with a rustle. You’d seen it on the train- an advert, for Maurader Valley, seeking a school teacher. “Exactly what we need.” You rolled the newspaper back up and tucked it under your arm. “Let’s find some lodging and some food. Then we can talk to someone about the ad.”

Olivia’s head bobbed, and a giggle escaped her as you plunked the hat on her head. She followed you quietly, taking in the sights, whistling a little tune.

You pushed open the door to the general store. There was only one other patron, a lanky man, hassling at the counter with an older woman. You offered an apologetic smile for interrupting their hassling over what appeared to be a box of bullets. Olivia gave a chipper wave before following you, where you softly lingered by the dried goods. Your hand gently released Olivia’s, and she wandered to the shelf, squatting down and looking at the dried fruits.

You reached down and picked up some dried jerky and let her pick some dried peaches. You tucked them on top of the newspaper as you wandered back to the counter. When you reached the front, you lowered the goods and the newspaper, watching the lanky man stalk out. “Grumpy,” You smiled politely, as the woman glanced at the goods.

“Yeah,” She said, skimming you, brow in suspicion. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” You offered a sheepish smile, back loosening when Olivia sprinted back to you and clasped your hand, giggling softly. “I had a question about the teaching position?”

“Still open. You interested?” The woman behind the counter eyed Olivia, who simply waved.

Your head bobbed curtly in a nod. “And a place to sleep and a hot bath. Please.”

The woman’s brows knitted as she drummed her fingers on the counter. “Hm. Name’s Cid. I have a couple extra rooms upstairs, but it’ll cost ya.”

“That’s fine. And the job?”

Cid sighed and motioned you to follow her. “That’s the sheriff’s question. He’s also the judge around here. Good guy.” Cid turned and locked the door to the general shop behind you and Olivia, tucking the keys back into her pocket on the apron. “Little scary at first, but he’s a real softie.” She glanced back at you both, frowning. “And don’t go acting weird around him.”

“No worries.” You squeezed Olivia’s hand, softly tugging her along. The last thing you needed was losing her in a new place.

Cid stepped up onto the wooden porch and opened the door, glancing in. “Hey, Hunter. We’ve got fresh meat.”

“Bring ‘em in,” A gruff voice that you presumed was the sheriff chimed.

Cid motioned you in, and you slowly walked in, fingers tight on Olivia. “She’s here for the teacher position. She has a kid, too.”

“I think he can see that,” Olivia piped up, chipper.

“Smart kid.” The sheriff laughed, a warm sound. You turned to him, taking him in for the first time. He was young, younger than you would have expected, face creased with crows feet and laugh lines. A dark spray of a birthmark splayed across half his face, but his eyes were bright and brilliant. He knelt down by Olivia, grinning. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Olivia.” The child released your hand and took Hunter’s, shaking it. Hunter grinned at her, stopping to glance up at you.

The window light caught his eyes, his gaze ambered in the sun, halos of honey skimming you. “And this is-?”

“My mum!” Olivia chirped.

You smiled as Hunter stood, reaching out and gently shaking his hands. “Hi. I’m looking to be the school teacher?”

Hunter smiled and tilted his hat politely. “Thanks, Cid. I’ve got it from here.” He opened the door for the woman, then glanced at you and Olivia. “After y’all. I’l show you the schoolhouse.”

You gave a nod, following Hunter, watching Olivia run up and grasp your hand again. She beamed brightly up at you, whispering loudly, “I like it here.”

“We’ve only been to two buildings.” You chuckled and tugged up your skirt, moving up the wooden steps of what you assumed was the old school house. You accepted Hunter’s hand helping you up, pausing and glancing around. “It’s very nice,” You stated, moving around, leaning over benches and the small desks. “Who’s been teaching them?”

“Wrecker. He’s nice, he’s been reading stories to them and taking them out on nature walks stuff like that.” Hunter leaned back on a desk as Olivia raced to the teacher’s desk. “So, what brings you here?”

You flashed a smile, watching Olivia root through the books sitting by the desk. “The job.”

Hunter’s brow creased. “High class city woman like yourself, you move you and your kid out here alone?”

Alone, you recalled. The only way you and Olivia could live in peace were by accordance to the oath, their oath- death or marriage. You shuddered, brushing of the sensation that trying to forage a third option was unwise. You and Olivia were safe, for now at least, and that was all that mattered. You drew in a breath and watched Olivia sit down with a book. “Yes.”

“People only come out here for two things. They’re either trying to find something or they’re running.” Hunter’s brows raised. “Which one are you doing?”

“A little of both.”

Hunter paused, then smiled gently, crossing his arms as he looked over at Omega. “We’re here for you either way. I think you’ll both have a nice life here.”

___

Olivia had issues fitting in at first with the other kids. She was more reserved, soft, and the other children babbled, bounced, sung, and Olivia would look back at you. Over the days, you would nod, encouraging, watching her run outside to play with the others outside of the schoolhouse. You leaned on the railing of the steps, the wood creaking as it supported you.

Olivia was happy here. She was with other children, and finding herself, and opening up. Here, in the warm sun, away from the cold buildings and winters and even colder people. You shuddered away the cold thoughts, the oppressive gazes and eyes; now was not the time or place, and you were safe here.

You wrapped your hand around the rope to ring the bell for the kids to come in, pausing, looking up at the sky. It threatened rain. You tugged on it, twice, allowing the rings to echo. “Come on! Let’s get inside and stay dry.” You called.

The children flocked, tugging at one another and laughing, Olivia in the mix.

You hurried inside, helping the children gather their slates and chalk. “Quickly, run home before the storm hits.” You called, picking up Jek’s hat and plunking it on his head. “And I except your numbers done tomorrow!”

“Can I go ahead to the general store?” Olivia trotted by, hesitating for a moment.

Your hands froze, wrapping around a book. “Well…” You glanced at the door, frowning for a moment as you thought. You would rather Olivia get back dry, and cleaning up for the day would take a while. “I suppose.” You exhaled, walking her to the door. “Oh- there’s Wrecker.” You waved at him, catching the gentle giant’s attention. “Let him walk you to Cid’s.” You paused before she walked, gently taking her shoulders and turning her towards you. She blinked up at you, brow arched in puzzlement.

“Erm… Are you okay?”

“Yes,” You cleared your throat and smiled, looking her over. Pride swelled within you as you stood- Olivia had truly blossomed here, and she was exactly what a child should be, carefree and energetic and willing to explore the heights and widths of the skies and valleys. “I’m just happy for you.”

Olivia grinned up at you, waving as she lolloped dow the steps. “I am, too. Thanks, mama!”

She called you that put of habit, you knew, but it… You pressed a hand against your beating heart and watched Wrecker scoop Olivia up, chest swelling with joy. You hurried back inside and began stacking books, sweeping the chalk and pencil shavings off the floor. By the time you finished sweeping, the rain had already begun to pound on the roof.

You hummed, softly, a tune that was circling in your head. Your fingers wrapped around a stack of books and you heaved them off the student’s desks, walking towards your own stationed at the front of the classroom. You jumped as the door slammed open, the books dropping with a heavy thud.

“Pardon, ma'am.” Hunter slammed the doors shut, fighting against the gusts of wind outside, and he turned to hurry to you. “Here.” He knelt down, grabbing the books and stacking them on his arm. “I didn’t think it would startle you.”

You exhaled and got on your knees, picking up the books one by one and loading them onto the desk. “It’s alright. The storm probably caught the doors.” Your fingers brushed his lightly as you reached for a book and they tingled, so you diverted your grip to another book.

“Just saw Olivia wondering back to Cid’s with Wrecker. Didn’t want you to walk alone in this.” Hunter stood. The stack of literature rested easy on his arm. “Where do you need these?”

“My desk.” You picked up your own stack and followed him, lowering the books by him. You averted your gaze, cheeks flushed. “So you… Came here when it started raining?”

Hunter shrugged, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I know the weather can get nasty, and I didn’t know if you had an umbrella or anything-”

“It wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” You paused, glancing at the window. “I would appreciate a walk back.”

The easy-going grin twisted your heart in tangles. “Pleasure’s all mine, ma'am.” Hunter nodded. He yanked off his coat and held it up, rushing to the door. “That rain doesn’t wait on us.”

You nodded and tucked your shawl around you, hurrying after him. The jacket provided you both with minimal shelter, but his laugh made you laugh, and the rain didn’t seem to bad. The mud clung to your boots and hem as you both ran across the first road, ducking under the first porch (the bank) that came available to you. Hunter’s laugh filled the air, and he shook out his jacket, glancing at you. “Sorry about that.” His loose hair, wet, curled tightly and stuck against his forehead.

You shook your head and leaned on the post, watching the rain. “I like the rain. I never knew how much I missed it.”

“It didn’t rain where you’re from?” Hunter frowned. “Lands almighty.”

You shook your head, pausing, chest tight again. You could only remember curling up and watching the rainfall from a tight window, knees against your chest. “It did, but I wasn’t allowed in it.” You said, softly. You glanced down at the street, watching puddles gather before overfilling.

Hunter watched what you watched, the water rolling in small streams down the road. “What are you running from, exactly?”

You turned to him quickly, gathering your shawl closer. His eyes followed you, the deep intensity pressing on you. “I think it’s better you don’t know that.” The words were soft, strangled coming from your throat.

Despite looking away from him, you still felt his eyes on you, heavier than the water drenching your clothes. The weight of it came back, recalling how cut off you were, attempting to run and being dragged back, your parents disapproving stares as you longed to be out of the commune, and watching Olivia grow and only wanting her to have what you never did-

A hand smoothed over your face, the coarse pad of Hunter’s thumb brushing away the tear. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Hunter said, gently. “I’m just concerned for you and Olivia.”

Your eyes scanned his face, lips parting, swallowing hard. “It would be too much for you.”

“Nothing is too much,” He said, quickly. “It’s my job.” Hunter paused, then draped his coat around your shoulders. “Here. Let’s get you back to Cid’s.”

Your fingers held the lapels of the coat as he walked with you, quiet. “Thank you,” You mumbled, softly walking. Hunter hummed cordially, guiding you to Cid’s. His fingers were light against your back as he led you into the front door on the saloon side of the building.

Wrecker was sitting on a chair with Olivia in the opposite side, and he was frowning at the cards in his hands. “You’re too good, kid.” Wrecker mumbled, a hand scratching his head.

Olivia giggled, nodding, unruly curls bobbing. “I guess so.” She glanced back at you and Hunter, and she grinned. Olivia hopped down and ran over, hugging your damp dress. “Mama, I’m beating Wrecker at gambling!”

“Oh goodness,” You sighed, as Hunter threw back his head and laughed.

“Now, Kid.” Hunter tugged a third chair to the table. If you wanna learn from a real pro, you have to learn from me.“

Olivia bounded back over to her seat, crawling up. She chattered about her day- what she learned, recess, and walking back in the rain with Wrecker. You observed briefly, smiling softly as Hunter tapped on Olivia’s card, softly telling her how to deal and count.

Fingers leaving the doorway, you practically floated towards the stairs for your room. Cid looked up from counting cash on the counter. "Is that Hunter’s coat?”

“Yeah.” You said, softly, climbing up the last couple of steps. You heard Cid mumble something about how Hunter never let anyone borrow his coat, and your heart, for some reason, floated even more.

___

Cid woke you up, yanking the blankets off your body. You sat up, Olivia stirring next to you. “Get up!’

"Why?” You asked, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You stood and grabbed your bag, anyway, listening to Cid.

“There’s a man downstairs. Said he’s looking for you and the kid!”

Your heart jumped in your throat, and you turned to Olivia. She stared up at you, eyes still coming to from the deep sleep she was in, brimming with fear. “Don’t let them take me,” She whispered.

You scooped her up, glancing around. “There’s a window. Let’s-”

“He’s waiting down there.” Cid hissed. “Go out the back. I have a wagon out there, you can come back for your stuff later.”

You nodded, wrapping Hunter’s coat around you and running down the stairs. You turned back, glancing at the window, and you swore as you turned tail and ran that there were two red eyes watching you in the window.

___

You were awakened again, this time by a large hand grabbing you. You yelped and threw out a fist, hand meeting an arm. “Whoa, whoa!” Hunter grabbed your hands, gently. “It’s me.”

Your breath quickened, the warmth of Olivia gone. “Where is she?”

“She’s inside, asleep.” His grip moved to your shoulders, and your eyes adjusted well enough in the night to see the outline of him. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your own hands moving up to clasp his arms. “Hunter, they’re coming,” You mumbled, legs feeling loose, shakey again.

“Who?” He said, gently. You only shook your head, shoulders sputtering, and the sob heaved out of you. “Who wants to get you and Olivia?”

You glanced up at him, chest tight, head pounding. Words balled up in your throat, lifeless, thick as paper. Hunter gently moved an arm around you and pulled you against his chest, smoothing a hand over your back.

You recalled nothing else except for Hunter catching you when your knees slacked and your vision went black.

___

You only woke up when you felt warmth besides you. You sat up, abruptly, looking down at Olivia, who gasped. “Are you alright?”

You shuddered, looking around. “Are we still with Hunter?”

“Yes.” Olivia plunked down besides you, running a hand in her own blonde hair. There was a pause before she said softly, “I told Hunter.”

“You told him?” You inhaled, sucking in a breath, heart twisting. “What will he think?” Your palms broke out in a sweat, shaking. Possibilities ran through your head- Olivia and you being on the run again, alone in the wilderness-

“He took it well.” Olivia reached up, gently taking your face in her small hands. “And he knows everything.”

You shuddered again, reaching down and hugging her. She hugged you back, quickly, her hold comforting you this time. You closed your eyes, heart aching for this girl, the daughter you did not deserve.

The door creaked open and you glanced up. Hunter stood in the doorway, looking at you and Olivia. He offered a gently smile and entered, gently sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Olivia told me everything about the Order.” His eyes flickered to yours, and he laid a gentle hand on your blanket, looking between you and Olivia. “She told me how you took her and ran.”

You nodded, cradling the girl, who had turned her attention to Hunter as well. “What are you going to do?”

Hunter inhaled, scratching his head. “I’m not making you leave. If this is where you want to be, then you’ll be here.” He paused, swallowing. “But you can’t be alone. Olivia told me there’s only two ways to keep the Order from coming after you, and I can’t have y’all dying on me.” He inhaled, sharply, and he reached up, gently taking your hand. “Which is why I’m asking you to marry me.”

Chapter Text

Hunter found it difficult to sleep. It was too hot in the cabin, and his wife and her child were sleeping inside, which was the issue. He exhaled quietly and rubbed his face, sitting up and shuffling out of bed and the bedroom. He yawned softly and paused, seeing a faint light from an oil lamp lit on the couch by him.

He paused, moving towards the couch, relaxing when he saw the hunched figure of his wife. “You’re awake.”

She nodded, sleepily, hair in disarray. ‘Couldn’t sleep.“

"Mm.” Hunter walked around the couch, lowering himself next to her. “I can tell why. Busy day.” He chuckled and sat down. “First you get chased down, then ya get married… Kind of a whirlwind.” Hunter sighed softly, shaking his head, feeling the damp curls brush his ears. “I mean, busy for me too.” He leaned back and glanced at her. “I didn’t expect to get married tonight, either.”

“You didn’t have to.” She mumbled, repeating herslef for the upteenth time.

“I wanted to.”

“Why? What for?”

Hunter’s thoughts fell flat. Ever since she had begun teaching, talking, being so gentle with the kids and treating them fairly, kindly… and watching her with Olivia, being so gentle. He had fallen in love, and he couldn’t find the words to explain why. No reason. No rhyme. Instead, he shrugged. “I want you an Olivia to be safe,” He repeated, sitting up more to look at her. In the dim golden light of the lamp, her eyes hazed, the golden hue reflecting in them.

“Is that all?” She asked, her breath half-drawing in as he moved towards her. Hunter paused, watching her draw back. “I… I hope that we can find more in our marriage.”

Hunter’s heart flopped. “Yeah,” He whispered, eyes skimming to her lips briefly. “I do, too.”

Was it just him, or did she lean in? Did her eyes flick to his own mouth or was that a trick of the light?

She smiled, softly, standing and wrapping the knitted blanket tighter. “I should go check on Olivia. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“What’s mine is yours. You are my wife, after all.”

She offered him a sheepish smile, the bags under her eyes evident in the fading flame of the oil lamp. “Thank you, Hunter. You have no idea-”

“I do.” He smiled and stood, his loose shirt swaying as he moved. Her eyes flicked down his exposed collarbone, tracing the peaking eyes of the various scars that run from her gaze to under the fabric of the shirt. Hunter drew in a breath and scanned her, watching her lips plump and part as she sucked in a breath, and her fingers tightened on her shawl.

“I…” She glanced away, up the stairs, and then she whispered, “Good night.” Before running up, to safety, to sleep, to where some things were half normal.

Hunter ran a hand in his hair, heart beating wildly against his ribs. He loved her, his wife, and yet he did not know how to say.

Chapter Text

You stared at Hunter, in shock, the weariness from the day diminishing at his absolute earnestness of the proposal. Your eyes flickered to Olivia, who was grinning, hands clasped together, nodding eagerly.

Your breath found you, crashing waves in your lungs. “Olivia, would you mind going downstairs? I think Cid left our suitcases down there.”

The child glanced between the two of you and nodded, standing off the bed, and hurrying out. You heard her feet stomping down the steps as Hunter turned back to you.

“Thank you for your concern, Sheriff-”

“Just Hunter. Please.”

“… Hunter,” You swallowed, jaw tight. “But I don’t want you to be pressured to-”

“My first job is to protect y'all.” His voice, the gentle southern accent, smooth as molasses tumbling from a pot, enveloped you in warmth. “I’m not being pressured to do anything. Trust me,” Hunter smiled gently, hand slowly pressing against yours resting on the blanket. “I wouldn’t propose if I didn’t want to.”

You stared down at his hand, quietly looking over the tanned skin of it- weathered, calloused, rough, but all the kindness was in that grip. You looked up at him again, and inhaled raggedly. “I- Olivia,”

“I’m as much a father to her as a wife to you.” He shook his head gently. “Don’t go running again. Let me help.”

“Marriage is far more serious than simply ‘help’, Hunter.” You found yourself squeezing his fingers, and air found your lungs again. “What will everyone else think?”

He shrugged, and he smelled like leather, cloves, warmth. “Let them think. People 'round here get married often.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I… I can’t offer much-”

He held up a hand, eyes firm, but voice soft. “You can sleep in here with Olivia. Protecting means respecting you, and if that’s what you feel safest doing-”

You leaned forward, the hand bumping you, and you wrapped your arms around him. Your face landed against his neck as you shook, the tears strangling you. It was over- it was almost over. And Hunter…

“You have no idea,” -you gasped. He placed his hands on your back and hugged you against him, gently- “how much that means to us.”

Hunter held you, softly. His touch was odd, foreign, but something you realized you could get used to. You were right- he was warm.

He shushed your sobs, tenderly, coming a hand in your loose hair. “Trust me, no one would have any sort of qulams about marrying you- least of all me.” His words, sugar through and through, were nonabrasive, open. “Of course, if you don’t want to marry me, I’ll help you however else I can.”

You tugged away, eyes flickering back up to his. “Why?” You said, softly.

Hunter didn’t respond, and with the low-lighted amber of his eyes, brilliant in the dark, you really felt like he shouldn’t’ve needed to reply, and their gaze stated that Oh darling, you should know by now.

The steps creaked. Hunter pulled away, hands falling to his lap. “Think on it, sleep-”

“I’ll do it.” The words tumbled through your cracked lips. You licked them as his head whipped back to you, as Cid stepped in, Omega trailing behind her. “I’ll marry you.”

Hunter smiled, honest and joyful- it was night time but the room lit up.

“Well?” Cid asked, grunting as she lowered the carpet bag. “Stand up.”

Hunter rose and you blinked, looking at the woman as she brushed off her apron and haphazardly attempted to straighten her rolled-up sleeves. “Why?” You asked, lamely.

“So I can marry ya.” Cid shrugged.

You glanced at your fiance (the shortest engagement you were aware of by far) and he shrugged. “She’s an officiant.”

“Oh.” You stood, clearing your throat.

Olivia scurried over and pressed a wrinkled daisy into your hand, beaming. “I picked it for you! No wedding shouldn’t have flowers.”

Your heart melted, and you knelt down, wrapping your arms around her, tightly. She clutched you back, nuzzling her face against you, humming in satisfaction. “I’m so glad I came with you,” She whispered, letting you comb a hand in her hair.

You leaned away, scanning her sweet face- young, soft, and you nodded, fighting away the thoughts- she would be alright. She would live. This would be good. “I am, too.” You whispered, pressing your forehead tenderly to Olivia’s.

“Tick-tock,” Cid chided. “Save the hugs for later.” She watched as Hunter reached a hand down, gently helping you rise, and his lips curved softly into a smile. Cid cleared her throat, tossing a coil of hair back over her shoulder. “Dearly beloved-” She began.

You half listened, the daisy’s stem slick in your palm with sweat. Your heart, your soul was soothed by Hunter’s eyes, his light hand still holding yours, not pressing against it too hard. You only snapped back into the world when Cid declared, “All right, y'all can kiss now.”

You blinked up at him, the thought making your face red. You drew your own lips in, glancing away momentarily, and Hunter squeezed your hand lightly. “Hey, I’ll settle for a hand shake,” He whispered.

You found a laugh rising in your throat, and you felt your wrist flick in a light pump. Robotically. You wanted this- if you had to marry a man on this world, it would be him. Hunter. The sheriff.

Your husband.

___

Being married was… odd. You had imagined it being different, perhaps a physical change, or a firey feeling of pride. However… nothing much had changed. You were still you, Olivia was still Olivia, and the only thing that had changed about Hunter was that he was your husband.

The secure feeling still hadn’t come, yet, a week in- that was the change you had most hoped for, and the one you were most unsettled by the fact that it had not come. Even when you were in Hunter’s house, you could have sworn you felt eyes on you.

Hunter must have known. He didn’t want you or Olivia out of his sight for too long. He walked with you through the sunny woods, the sunshine peppering the air.

Olivia’s favorite spot on Hunter’s land was the nearby river. She stopped by it, eyes skimming over the smooth rocks on the shore, the dips and divets of the creek, where it babbled ad sung over the rocks and logs. “It’s nice here.” She edged towards the water, pausing to glance back at you and Hunter.

Hunter gently touched your arm, and reassurance flooded through you as he walked to Olivia. He knelt down, reaching down and selecting a rock. “There we go.” He stood up, swinging an arm back, and tossing it, quickly. It skimmed across the surface, bouncing, leaving happy rings in the water before resting in the middle of the river.

Glancing back at you with wide eyes, Olivia giggled, then looked up at Hunter. “How did you do that?”

The dark eyes sparkled, and Hunter smiled- he smiled. “It takes practice. But I can show you.”

Olivia giggled, merry, and picked up a rock. She moved next to Hunter and watched him, mimicking his stance, only for the rock to fall in with a thick plunk.

You laughed, a hand pressing to your chest as Hunter gazed back at you, watching you laugh. He smiled and it reached his eyes and, for a moment, you realized how absolutely safe you finally felt.

After a moment, Olivia giggled and waded into the water, her skirt skimming the water, and she stooped to grab a few rocks. Hunter watched her, moving from the creek and towards you, stopping by the nearby tree and glancing back at the child. “She’s a great kid.”

“She is.” You smiled, leaning on the trunk, watching Olivia throw the water in the air, laughing happily as the droplets of sunlight rained on her. “I… I do love her. I really do.”

Hunter chuckled, looking sideways at you. “You’re a good mother.”

“I’m not even her mother.”

“Family is who you choose, not who you’re born to.” Hunter sighed, quietly, watching Olivia kick the water. “So… where’s her brother?”

You shrugged, softly. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does. He ran away when she was, oh… five.” You shook your head, quietly, heart aching. “I remember him telling me he would come back for her.”

“So you took her?”

“I had no other choice.” Your gaze flicked up to his. “They were going to kill her, Hunter.”

His brow creased, and he exhaled quietly, nodding. “I’m not saying you made the wrong decision.” Hunter watched Olivia kick the water, laughing as it arched in the air. “I just… I wanted to tell you how brave you are. Both of you.” He paused, and you felt his eyes flick back to your face, gaze tender. “And I think that’s… valuable. Good.”

You looked up at him, inhaling, his eyes too soft, too tender, and you smiled, finally. Your heart did those flips again- the same ones you always got when he looked at you like that, so soft. “Thank you,” You glanced away, feeling your ears pinken. “And I think you are, too. Brave.”

Hunter chuckled and reached down, smoothing back a tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes searching your face, beholding it fully. “Hold your head up, darling,” His lips turned more, and his fingers brushed your face. “You have a good one on your shoulders.”

The eyes, it was his eyes- they made your cheeks pinken, your breathing tight, your heart unsteady.

“Hunter!” Olivia yelled. “I see a fish!”

Hunter looked away, laughing, and he moved away from you, casting a smile back as he waded in next to Olivia. “Coming!”

Your hands plastered to your chest, willing peace upon your heart, and you watched your daughter and husband play in the waves of the creek together.

___

“I like Hunter.” Olivia confirmed as she snuggled into the bed, yawning.

Chuckling and fluffing up a pillow, you plunked it down into bed, behind her head. “I do too.”

She rubbed her face. “That’s why you married him, though.”

“That is one reason.” You found a hand stroking in her curls, and you smiled.

Olivia yawned again. “Does he know you like him?”

“Hm? Oh.” You shrugged, watching her eyelids droop. “I’m sure he does.”

“Have you told him?”

Your fingers paused, halfway over her head, briefly. The gazes, the small touches- he had to know. Instead you shrugged, resuming your ritual of brushing your hand in her hair. “No. But sometimes we don’t have to tell each other how we feel to know.”

“But that’s not how everyone is.” Olivia hummed, hair tangling against the cotton of the pillow.

The words rang against the dark room, and Olivia’s gentle snores filled the room. She rolled over and hugged the pillow, mumbling in her sleep. You smiled, quietly, leaning down and gently kissing her head before you stood, picking up the candle, and moving towards the stairs.

When you reached the living room, you saw Hunter’s door still open, the haze of his own oil lamp still alight, although it was dim. You blew out the candle, lowering it onto the table, and you walked quietly into his room. Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door, and you spoke softly. “Hunter? You busy?”

The sheriff lowered his book, and he smiled up at you. He was wearing his same loose nightshirt, legs crossed. “You okay?”

Your head bobbed in a nod and you allowed yourself to take a small step in. “I’m fine. I just wanted to thank you for your… kindness over the past few days.”

His eyes ambered in the soft golden glow of the lamp, and he stood, quietly, nodding. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Your eyes graced down his body as he tucked the book back onto the shelf- his muscular thighs were brushed by the light fabric of the shirt, firm forearms pulsing with tendons and muscles that you didn’t even realize were attractive until you had seen them on him. “But I do need to. You didn’t have to marry me and take on Olivia and I, our burdens.” You inhaled, forcing your eyes back to his. “What do you gain?”

Hunter’s eyes danced in the glow as he took a cautious step towards you, leaving a foot or so between you. “I think you know what I gain.” His words were quiet, dangerous, and your heart bounced in your chest.

“Tell me,” You rasped. “Tell me what you gain.”

He licked his lips, glancing away, and he swallowed. “A wife, and a child, and all the luck in the world.”

The air between you both seemed vast, and thick. Your fingers flexed by your side, and your eyes skimmed his face. “Luck?”

His eyes moved away and he exhaled, the glow in his eyes reverberating through the tears gathering. “I’m the luckiest man in the world, if you accepted marrying me.”

Air left your lungs and you felt the need to step in, and retreat, all at the same time. The space in his words, the breath in his lungs, and you felt your feet move forwards, towards him. “Hunter, you chose to ask me.”

“And I don’t regret it, any of it.” He paused. “I do regret you’re running from a cult, though.”

You chuckled and shook your head, fingers tugging at your braid. “Yeah, I wish I could have given Olivia more. But we both really appreciate you. A lot.”

Hunter seemed to reciprocate your movements and stepped closer, and his eyes skimmed your face. “I appreciate you, too.” He watched your expression, catching every twitch, every blink, and you knew if looks could kill you would be near dead under those eyes right now, and you wouldn’t mind, because it would be a death of bliss.

Softly, you reached up, taking his cheek, and you leaned up on your toes, pressing your lips softly to the rough skin of his birth mark. It was warm, gentle, and so very Hunter. He closed his eyes and his eyelashes tickled your cheek, as you pulled away. “Good night, Hunter,” You whispered, backing away and retreating back into the dark house and up the stairs.

___

You didn’t realize how dangerous you were until the situation called for it.

Hunter and Olivia were outside, down by the river, and you were inside, absentmindedly chopping apples. He had a few apple trees, and you had made sure to take advantage of it. Olivia had grown too fond of the fruit, at least that was what you teased her about.

A gunshot sounded outside, and you stopped chopping. Your feet ran to the doorway and you flung it open, grabbing the nearby shotgun resting at the door. You pumped it, once, and ran down the porch, sprinting down towards the river.

You stopped at the small cove, staring at the two tall men- those red eyes, you knew them, and the tall man, standing placidly, fingers folded in front of him…

You crept closer, swinging the shotgun up as Lama Su spoke. “So just give us the child, and tell us where the woman is-”

“Right here, you bastard.” You snarled, pumping the shotgun, pressing the cold metal barrel into his back.

The red eyed man turned around, gun whirling towards you. You only glared at him, anger boiling in you. “You shoot me, and the guy that pays you is dead.”

Su raised a hand, motioning the man to turn back to Hunter and Olivia. “Bane, please, eyes on the child. And, my oh my. Why, look who it is.” He smiled and started to turn, eyes blank, placid in the sun. You shuddered at how white they were, thin whisps of his blonde hair twisting in the breeze. “Our little runaway. Your parents were so worried about you.”

“When I left, I left everyone, including my parents.” You took a step back, eyes flicking to the bounty hunter.

“But you didn’t leave her.”

“I’m not letting her die,” You spat, watching as Hunter gently tugged Olivia behind him. “You won’t have her, you’ll have to kill me first.”

“Oh, you’re married, so we have no concern of you.” Su chuckled quietly and shook his head, moving towards you. You fought to retain your ground, and you snarled at him, actually baring teeth. “However, we do want the omega of the Fetts.” His eyes glistened, and Su reached out to touch the barrel of the gun, pressing it away softly. “The blood of Fett-”

You raised your gun, throat tight. “Is not yours.” You hissed. “Get out of here before I blow a hole in that head of yours.”

“Bane,” Su said, calmly. “Get the child.”

“No!” Hunter growled, tugging Olivia behind him.

“She isn’t even your child.” Su rolled his eyes, turning back to look at Hunter, watching Bane walk into the water. “Why would you want her?”

Hunter glared at him, fists balling up, and he ran towards the man, grabbing at the gun. Olivia screamed, watching him, balling up the rock in her hand. She threw it at Su, who only kept a smile on his face as the rock fell short.

Your finger hovered over the trigger and you shook, and stared at Hunter as he and Bane fell into the water, wrestling for the gun. You yelled for him, picking up the shotgun and swinging it, the butt of the gun hitting the back of Lama Su’s head. The man who had hurt you, haunted you, all these years, grasped his head and crumpled. A gunshot went off, and you screamed, running towards the water, and Olivia ran towards Hunter and the bounty hunter, one of them limp in the water.

___

You tightened the bandage on Hunter’s arm. “There,” You said, quietly. “Patched up.”

Hunter nodded, laying his hand on the bandaged wound. Olivia had nestled into his other arm, and she was sleeping. “Thanks.”

You reached down and smoothed back his hair, watching him. “I… Hunter, thank you.”

“You saved my life back there, you know.” Hunter mumbled, leaning back on the pillows. “If you hadn’t come when you did-”

“I had to.” You reached over to Olivia and brushed down her hair. She shifted and mumbled, then settled against him. “I have to keep you safe, it’s the least I can do.”

Hunter nodded, quietly, then said gently, “So, what do you get out of this?”

“Out of what?”

“Us.” Hunter looked up at you, gaze soft, and eyelids heavy. He yawned quietly, watching you with his sharp eyes, which were now blunt with exhaustion. “Our marriage.”

You chuckled, glancing at his arm wrapped around Olivia, hold tender around her. “I get a good husband and Olivia gets a good father.” You leaned down, gently kissing his head again. “Get some sleep.”

You rose, moving the quilt around him, and as you left the room, going to lock the front door, the confession knocked on your heart as loudly as it possibly could. Love. I love you. You just weren’t quite sure if you had it from him yet and, until you knew, you decided that your love could be quiet for just a little bit longer.

Chapter Text

Tech rolled up his sleeves, tying off the stitch. “There.” He slowly clipped the string and set his needle in the sanitization bowl. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Mrs. Laquwane smiled, her thick hair being tugged at by her son, Jek. “Are you feeling better, Shay?”

The girl nodded, glancing down at the puckered wound. “Will I get better?”

“Of course you will.” Tech smiled gently, watching as Jek admired his sister’s wound. “Ah, don’t touch it, Jek.” Sue tossed her son a frown, before turning back to Tech. “Here.” He handed her a small jar, tapping on the lid. “Apply that to the cleaned surface every night. If you need more, let me know. I’ll drop by next week to examine the stitches.”

Sue smiled, pushing one of her thick braids over her shoulders. “Thank you, Tech.”

“Of course, Mrs. Laquwane.” Tech smiled politely, nodding, as Shay grabbed her bonnet, examining the stitched in her arm again. “You have brave children.”

Jek tugged on his mother’s second braid, eyes gleaming in their sly, childish way. “Can I get stitches too?”

“Oh, heavens, I hope not.” Sue sighed as Tech chuckled, shaking his head slightly, waving politely as the trio left. He leaned on the doorway, chest swelling with pride- another long day of good work was done. A grin that only emerged when he felt like he had a genuine job well done fought its way onto his face as he ducked back into his office.

Tech slowly rolled up his things. He tugged the curtains shut and picked up his bag, sighing softly as he plunked his hat onto his head. Tech tucked his key into his pocket, shutting the door as he slowly began the trek home - just a few streets away.

It was only beginning to darken when he reached the inn. He nodded to Cid and tugged the watch from his pocket. He swelled with pride, examining the elaborate design on the clasp and the cover of the face. The time stated it was only now past six-fifteen, and he was late.

Cid frowned, puffing on her cigar. “You’re late.”

He offered a small smile, taking the little stack of mail she offered him. “I understand that.”

She chuckled, tucking the cigar into her mouth. “Need some company? I bet one of the girls would-”

“No, I am quite alright.” Tech spoke quickly, face flushing. “Thank you.” Her laughter followed him up the stairs.

He unlocked his room, walking in, pausing briefly to light the oil lamp. The flame caught, and he blew out the match gently. He dropped the medical bag on his bed, sinking into the mattress with a soft creak.

He turned over envelopes, skimming the names on them. Some were letters from family, a letter from one of his Universities (probably inviting him to lecture), and one was…

The light spilled on the cream envelope, dripping like blood. The name alone made his throat dry. Miss Sawyer, he swallowed, fingers trembling. He opened the letter, shakily.

His face was warm, eyes unbearably hot reading the words- palaces of paragraphs, telling Victor how wonderful life was and how it wasn’t the same without him. She had told him he wasn’t enough when he had gotten on one knee. That being a doctor’s wife was not suitable for a woman of her stature- and here she was, months later, pouring an arsenic-laced honeyed apology into a leaf of paper.

Tech stood, abandoning the letter on his bed. He took no time to try and tug his overcoat back on, or button his waistcoat- he just flew down the stairs, past Cid, tears blearing his eyes, throat chapped as he tore towards the stables.

It was about twenty minutes into the ride when he knew where he was going, horse slowly manuvering up the red hills, caked with rocks. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the mane of the horse, inhaling its scent of alfalfa and leather. The horse knickered softly, pausing in it’s canter as a dog barked.

Tech glanced up, pushing a hand in his sweat-slicked hair. The door to the house was thrown open, warm light pouring out into the falling night, and the herbalist ran out, a bulky jacket thrown on over her coat. She ran towards him, not walked, ran, her hair loose instead of pulled into a bun or braids. Her eyes shone even in the darkness as Tech climbed off the horse. “Doc, what-”

No words came from him. He reached out, collapsing against her, leaning down aw(wardky and pressing his face into her shoulder, every shaky breath inhaling the old smell of her jacket- smoke, pipe smoke, and vanilla. He clutched her, his breathing hitching.

She was secure, safe. He needed only her.

The herbalist only paused for a moment before closing her arms around him, vocalizing no objections. They stood together, the light at her back, and he steadily found his shakey feet on the steady ground of her.

Tenderly, she tugged away. “Let’s go inside.” She said, gently. “I have some tea, and a fire.” Her lips pressed into a smile, and she nodded in encouragement, leading him to the warmth of her house, her home.

___

The couch was comfortable, Tech found, curled up, with the Herbalist handing him a cup of tea. He took a small sip, mumbling his thanks as she plopped down next to him, the heavy coat still on her shoulders. She watched him, eyes softened in the glow of the fire. “You’ve been crying.”

He drew in a sharp breathe and started into the tea, the water bruising with leaves and their colors and he nodded. “Yes,” He managed. He blinked to help bring some comfort to his dry eyes.

She crossed her legs, watching him. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tech glanced up from the cup, eyes scanning her face. “No,” The doctor rasped. “I don’t.”

“Mm,” She hummed, standing softly. Tech stared up at her as she moved, lowering her cup. “I can leave you alone-”

“No.” Tech moved quicker than he could think, moving to her, crashing to his knees and grasping the skirt of her nightgown. “I can’t be alone,” His words were short of air, shallow. “Not again, not again.”

He didn’t want to look up. He just wanted to keep his face in her nightgown skirts, holding them- holding her- and forget what he had been running from. Hell, he had forgotten, the moment he saw her riding up to his stagecoach, like an angel of battle, and the only thing stirring in him was an overwhelming sense of her.

She moved her hands in his hair, shushing his cries. “Victor,” She said, and the way she said it broke him. That concern, that love-

Quietly, she slid to her knees, too, and hugged him to her. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay with you. Or you can come sleep with me again.” A rack happened in her lungs and she shook her head quickly. “Like last time. When I put my head in your lap-”

Tech picked his head up and kissed her, fingers winding in her coat. Her words were cut short by his kiss, the fire, the need in it. She hummed and pressed her hands in his hair, tugging him closer, tighter, and Tech felt like the fire- warm, hot, needy, comforting- his lust and his love were an oxymoron within themselves.

She pressed herself away, chest rising and falling against Tech’s as her fingers brushed down to his waistcoat. Her eyes darted to his own, and she licked her lips, the delectible tongue peeking out from the supple fresh-kissed lips.

Tech ran his hand down the side of her face, the warmth exploding in his heart. “My, oh my,” He sighed. Her skin was rosy, flushed from the kiss, cheeks the tint of rose-hips. “You’re such a beautiful creature.”

She sighed, leaning into him as he tugged her close, surrendering to his kisses.

Tech was done running for his past- he had found his future, here, in his arms.

Chapter Text

Hunter picked up Olivia, leaning her in his arm. It had healed quite nicely and it was really just stiff- that was about it. He fought the urge to roll his shoulder as Olivia shifted and yawned. Just imagining the blood of this kid spilled in some ritual- he shuddered.

To be honest, he had grown fond of Olivia- she stopped by his office, she asked him if she could learn to shoot, and basically trailed behind him like a puppy. He wouldn’t have managed to have her, this sweet kid as his daughter, if it wasn’t for that stunning woman- that brave and amazing woman.

Hunter laid Olivia down on her bed and tugged the quilt over her. He kissed her head and watched her shift, snuggling into the warmth of the bed. How long did she have to go without a good night’s sleep? And for no reason other than her own good heart had her mama taken her away so Olivia could have a bed like this, a safe life.

Standing and blowing out the candle, Hunter hurried downstairs and opened the door, stepping softly onto the porch. It creaked as he moved, the dry weather not helping at all, only amplifying his movements, every sound.

The river was teeming with life, the frogs croaking and cicadias singing, waters rolling over rocks. She was standing by the creek, watching the fireflies dance in the babbles of the water, the light and life only adding to her presence- his home had always been nice, but it hadn’t been truly beautiful or he hadn’t noticed until she had come here. She smelled good- like old book pages, vanilla, and apples. Hunter watched her, dress brilliantly bright in the humming golden light of the evening, the fireflies.

She turned when Hunter came closer, but relaxed when she saw it was only him. “Sorry.” She smiled apologetically, turning to the peaceful scene- the grey clouds drifted apart and she stared up, eyes glittering at the stars.

Hunter couldn’t look away from his wife- the breathless wonderlust written across her everescent eyes, and the depths of her wanting for the sky. “Don’t apologize.”

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“You are.”

She looked at him, lips parting in shock. “Pardon?”

Hunter’s eyes skimmed her face- the rose hip lips, full, warm, and yet he hadn’t been able to kiss them yet, and the very thought of doing so drove him crazy. “I… I meant that you’re right. It’s beautiful out here.”

She nodded, looking back up at the sky. “Oh.” Her voice was soft, disappointed almost, an egging of slight saddness tinting her tone.

No- he meant what he said.

He wasn’t going to run any more.

“Actually,* He inhaled, pausing and looking at her. "I meant to tell you that you are. Beautiful, I mean.”

She chuckled, her arms folding quietly in front of her. “You’re too sweet.”

Hunter paused, watching the crease in her brow and the whisp of her hair brush on her forehead. A frog croaked in the water somewhere, singing its song, hoping for it to get some attention, a mate, a lover. “You hear that frog?” Hunter walked softly behind her, placing his hands gently on her upper arms. She nodded and inhaled, letting Hunter lean his head on her coiled hair. “That poor little fella is lonely, and he’s trying to catch a mate.”

Slowly, steadily, she leaned back into him, her weight resting in his arms and it was right, so so perfect- no other words for the sensation besides this is how it should be.

He found his lips trailing over her hair, and he heard her breath shake. “I think he’s crying for a good partner to cozy up next to him, maybe his heart is hurting a little bit. Or maybe there’s another frog, the prettiest frog in the pond, and he’s worried she doesn’t feel the same about him. Maybe she’s too busy memorizing the stars.” He whispered, the shadow of his beard scratching her ear as he leaned in close. Hunter’s hands ran up her arms, smoothing over the cotton of her sleeves.

Softly, her head rolled back onto his shoulder and her face flitted in the firefly light, intermittently golden from their light and silver from the night above. He pulled her back to his chest and sighed, allowing his nose to brush on her cheek. “I think,” He thumbed her jaw gently. “He’s feeling a little like I am-”

Her lips pressed over his, and Hunter’s words were stopped between his mouth and it died there. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in, humming. The sweet scent of her, the taste he had wanted enveloped him, and he gently broke away only to turn her against him.

She smoothed a hand over his face, her thumb brushing lightly on the rough ridges of his birthmark. A smile flitted on those lips, those perfect lips, and he wanted to kiss her senseless, over and over, until his heart with truly known to her. His own wife didn’t know his love was as vast as the sky above.

“I love you,” Her words were the melody that matched the harmony of the night. “I’m sorry, I wish I had said-”

“Darlin’,” Hunter chuckled, catching her words, softly coaxing her closer. “I’ve been falling in love with you since the day we met. And I haven’t hit the bottom yet, so I reckon I’m still falling.”

He kissed her, this time, holding her tightly. The stars above them lingered as they embraced, the night singing around them, and Hunter decided that yes, maybe she could one day look at him the same way she stared at the sky in all its vast and infinite glory.

Chapter Text

“Okay, Olivia, it’s all in the wrist.” Hunter flicked his hand, fingers releasing the rock and skimming it over the surface of the smooth lake.

Olivia nodded, watching with astutely bright eyes. “So you flick it?”

“Flick; not throw.” Hunter confirmed, gently stepping away, watching her for a moment. Olivia wound up her arm, tongue sticking from the corner of her mouth, and the smooth stone flew from her hand, hopping across the mirrored lake, three, four times before plunking into the water.

Gasping, Olivia turned to hunter, eyes sparkling. “Hunter!” She squealed. ‘I did it!”

“I knew you had it in ya, kid.” Hunter reached down, ruffling her blonde hair. He chuckled, a surge of pride bubbling up in him. Olivia giggled and looked up at him, gaze bright.

Hooves sounded over the bend of the hill. Hunter turned, smiling when he saw his wife on the back of the horse, riding over the ground like an angel on a battlefield, riding to their home. Olivia jumped up and down, beaming. “Mama’s home!” She yelled, running past Hunter, grabbing her skirts.

Hunter laughed, watching Olivia race towards her mama, his wife, yelling about skipping rocks, going fishing- his wife’s intermittent laughs filled the air as she ran to greet Olivia, stooping to pick her up and hugging her tightly. Olivia’s legs swung, the woman grasping her, and the two of them laughed.

His wife, and his daughter.

Hunter greeted them, tugging the hat off if his head. “Howdy, darlin’.”

Her expression softened, and she landed Olivia’s feet gently on the ground. “Hi, Hunter.” She waited until Olivia ran inside to grab her own hat, probably to prepare for going back down to the water, before leaning up to kiss Hunter.

They had been married for almost a year at this point, yet Hunter felt like a snake, head-over-heels, tumbling down a hill with his own tail in his mouth. Hunter sighed happily, sweeping an arm around her back and tugging her close. She laughed, gently pushing against him, breaking the kiss and shaking her head. “Hunter.”

“Hm?” He grinned and leaned in, the warm fuzzy feelings gnawing at him again. “I can’t kiss my own wife?”

“Let Olivia go down to the lake, then you can kiss me all you want.” She giggled, gently stepping away and patting his chest.

“Yes, ma’am,” He teased, following her back towards the horse. He reached up and swatted at her bottom, laughing as she turned and shooed at his arms. “You know,” He chuckled, watching her tug the saddle strap to unhook it from around the horse. “You look mighty pretty today.”

“You say that every day.”

“Especially today.” Hunter reached up, taking the saddle and heaving it over his shoulder. The horse nickered and nipped at him gently, earning a light swat from Hunter. “Spoiled.”

His wife laughed and grabbed the saddle blanket, folding it over her arms. She shook some dirt from it, gently. “He wants his sugar.”

“Oh?” Hunter raised a brow, glancing at his wife and he made an attempt to surpress a smile. “You’re the one spoiling him?”

His wage laughed again, bumping him with her hip. “I spoil all of you. I really shouldn’t, you don’t deserve it.” She threw the blanket over the fence post, dusting at it gingerly. “You’re fussy, clingy, you keep kissing me-”

“I reckon I’m too good a husband.” Hunter snorted, striding into the barn. He threw the saddle over a stall, turning to the tool table. “Where did I put the tack…” He mumbled. He began sorting through the things askew, whether it was Olivia’s fabric scraps she had been stitching or his nail and hammer for repairing the house.

His wife leaned on the door of the barn, watching him, arms folded. “Hunter?” She said, softly. “You love Olivia. Right?”

“‘Course I do. She’s our kid.” He grunted, pushing aside the saw and clicking his tongue in thought, distracted. “She’s as much our kid as if she came from ya.”

“Mm.”

Hunter didn’t notice how quiet she was until he found the polish. He grinned, snapping it up, opening the lid and grabbing a rag that was laying on the table. He whistled as he moved back to the saddle, occupied for a moment, fingers dipping the rag in the waxy polish. She remained where she was, chewing on her nails, watching him.

Hunter glanced at her, brows raised again. “Those fingers doing you good?”

She only hummed, her own forehead wrinkled and narrowed.

He rose. “What’s wrong?” The way her gaze snapped up translated properly- something was awry, tasted more wrong that a porcupine eating a prickly pear. Hunter abandoned his task. The rag sat on the saddle and he met her at the door, taking her arms gently in his worn hands. “Darlin’, you can tell me anything.”

“Please don’t love her less,” She gulped, hands flying to her stomach. “Olivia is still ours, as much as-”

Hunter’s eyes widened, and darted to her stomach. The aprons, the loose dresses, the little bouts of illness- oh.

“We- we’re gonna have a baby?”

Her head bobbed in a nod, tears running in rivulets down her face, breathing intensifying. “Y-yes,” She heaved. “We’re gonna have a baby, but Olivia-”

“She’s gonna be a big sister- darlin’!” Hunter beamed, moving his hands to her face. “This is fantastic! Don’t ya know, I’ll love her and Olivia the same?”

“Really?” She sniffled, taking his wrists. “You’re not lying?”

“Honest truth. If I’m wrong I’ll eat my hat.”

She giggled, the smile breaking through- a wife, a mother, throughout and fully, and Hunter loved her deeply. Yes, she still gave him the warm fuzzies, the happy songs of a horned-toad, a two-step jig in his heart. “You’re not mad?”

“About this? Of course not!” His voice lilted, joy written in his words, and he felt it in his fingers as he smoothed away the tears. “I’m gonna be a papa, and Olivia is gonna be a sister, and you’re gonna be the best damn ma this side of the brazos.”

She laughed, reaching up and pulling him in by the collar of his shirt- she kissed him, smiling so hard she could barely go in for seconds.

They were interrupted by a happy yell, from not too far. “I’m going to be a SISTER?” Olivia ran towards them, beaming.

“How’d you hear that?” The sheriff’s wife reached down, rubbing through Olivia’s golden mane.

“You’re loud.” The girl stuck out her tongue, but was laughing. “I think the whole town knows by this point.”

The two laughed, mother and daughter, and they threw their arms around one another. Hunter leaned down to join them, picking up Olivia and kissing his wife- not a damn thing in this world, high or low, would keep him from loving his family.

Chapter Text

Your world turned sideways, then upside down, sideways again, and then right side up. You laughed, tumbling again, coming to a halt at the base of the hill. The two children slid down by you, voices chorusing in laugher. Shay collapsed on your back as Jack skidded by you, giggling, grinning and displaying a stunning lack of front teeth. “You’re the funnest person in town.”

“Aw.” You grinned, reaching over and tugging on Jack’s straw hat. “You kids are pretty fun, too.”

A set of little fingers reached up, tugging the tangles of grass through your hair. “Mama and papa like you, too.”

“And I like them.” You sat up, yanking off your hat and letting your hair fall so Shay could braid it. She rose, taking your tendrils of hair and weaving them together. “I like yall more, though.” You winked at Jack, who giggled as you motioned him to shush. “Don’t tell them, though.”

Shay cackled behind you, tugging on your hair and tying it off. “We won’t!” She chirped.

“Your secret is safe with us!” The boy cawed, running around his sister. “Hey! Shay! I’ll race you back up the hill!” He turned and sprinted up.

“Hey!” Shay fussed at her little apron, hopping up, and then ran up after him. “Not fair! You had a head start!”

A laugh, deep and warm, escaped your chest as you stood. You followed the kids up the hill, walking slower as they neared the top. You stopped and glanced back at the landscape, the sea of gold rolling in waves from upcoming storm winds. You would think the fields of wheat were oceans of riches. Cut was rich in every way, of course- with a family as lovely as his and lands as broad and blessed, but the man was happier with grains than physical riches.

Thunder rolled above your head, shouting through the sky. You glanced up, then looked at the kids, who has just made it into their house. “Hey!” You yelled. “I’m going to run home.”

The kids nodded, shouting their goodbyes and waving as they retreated inside to the warmth of their abode.

___

You barely managed to make it into the pergola in the center of town when the bottom really fell out of the storm above. The wood creaked under your feet as you moved, watching the rain, antsy for the clouds to lift.

Drumming your fingers on the old railing of the pergola, you made a couple of laps, taking in the sights of this town in the rain, the storm. You leaned on your elbows and looked over everything, thinking for a moment. Everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their homes, listening to the rain and wind and curling up with loved ones.

Even if you were the only one in your home, you wouldn’t mind curling up alone, drinking some tea, listening to the pitter of rain on your windows-

Wait.

You leaned on the wood, squinting at the figure fast approaching you. Despite actively getting drenched by the unsympathetic rain, he was grinning.

“Victor,” You whispered, turning and running to the steps of the pergola. You made it halfway down the stairs, the rain and wood scent assaulting you, when his hand grasped your arm and tugged you back under the cover of the humble structure. You tugged your hair out of your face, staring up at him, rubbing the water out of your face. “Victor!” You practically yelled above the rain. “What are you doing out here?”

The Doctor grinned, victoriously holding up an umbrella that had been stationed under his arm. “I had to bring this to you!” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “Uh… It hasn’t done any good yet.”

“Oh, Victor.” You laughed and looked him over, shaking your head at the mud splashed on his trousers. “You’re soaked!”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” He said, watching you. “Waiting this out by yourself would be rough.” His eyes, behind the rain-speckled specs, were bright as he looked you over, wet hair and all. “Stars,” He said, hoarse. “You’re beautiful.”

A laugh tugged at your throat as you plunked down on the floor of the modest stand, and you patted the wood next to you. “You’re very sweet, doc.”

“I’m being serious,” Victor plunked down next to you, taking off his specs and rubbing his dampened shirt on the lenses in an attempt to dry them. “I’m trying to be more bold. Honest, even.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, the braid Shay made swaying on your shoulders. “Well, you’re sweet, either way. And you’re kind of pretty yourself.”

He chuckled in his city-slicker way, a way that charmed you. “I like your braid.” Victor paused, reaching up to examine it. “May I?” Upon receiving your nod of approval, he took the length of hair in his hand. Your whole scalp tingled at the sensation of his hands, gently skimming over the braid. “It’s lovely. Shay?”

“Yes,” You hummed. “Shay likes playing with hair, you know.”

He chuckled, hands falling to your shoulders momentarily before dropping, and Victor scooting besides you, crossing his legs. “She does.” He added, eyes drawing to the rain.

You snuck a sideways glance at him. He really was pretty. Soft lips rounded a set jaw, intelligent dark eyes hiding behind glasses, skin tanned and warm with brown-red hair laying in wet curls on his head. You were never one for art, portraits, but heavens, if you could pick a picture to have engraved in your mind’s eye forever it would be this one, of him, wet and soaked from the rain and eyes soft. Your gaze darted away, and your stomach stirred- butterflies, your mama used to call them.

You felt a hand press softly over yours, fingers spreading hesitantly on your knuckles. You glanced up, blinking, and you smiled quietly. Victor’s own eyes moved up to yours and his cheeks pinkened, and he started to pull his hand back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Your thumb flicked over his hand, trapping it over yours again. “It’s fine.” You whispered, barely audible against the rain. After a moment of silence, you squeezed his hand. “How did Victor Trech become ‘Tech’?”

Victor chuckled, fingers flexing over yours. “Ah. Well, one of the letters I sent- I suppose the 'r’ in Trech blended in with cursive, and… Well, I never corrected it.”

You broke out in a giggle, looking over at him, feeling your lips almost split in laughter. “Really?”

He nodded, laughter filling the pergola. His eyes danced in the rain as he looked at you, intelligent gaze not diminished by the softness that lingered in his brown eyes- warm and ever present.

You sucked in a breath as he smoothed his hand up to your cheek, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “If I could just,” He whispered, watching it tuck back neatly. His words never finished- but they held a strong, finalized want in how he said them, prayed them.

His fingers cusped your jaw, and he swallowed harshly, the unsaid plea moving down his throat. “Forgive me.” His hand moved away from you, and he turned his head away, words hoarse. “You seem to make me forget the words that I had in my mind.” Victor grimaced momentarily, at the crack of thunder above them. “And you make me talk in flowery circles.”

“Why do I do that?” You leaned forward, cocking your head. The hair danced from behind your ear to brush a damp line along your cheek, but you ignored it- you were enraptured fully in him, his presence.

“Because you-” Victor’s words caught again, and his cheeks reddened as he glanced down at the old wooden ground of the pergola. “You make me want to say every good and noble thing that you bring to my mind, and you deserve no less than the best praises my lips can sing of you.”

Your thoughts fell flatter than an armful of barley on a windless day. His eyes were so sincere, warm, lips pressed together. “I said I was trying to be honest because I want to be open and honest with you, especially you, if not only you- and should you say no, my heart will still be yours, and I’ll never speak of my honesty with you again.”

A chuckle pressed firmly to your throat, and you watched him sit up more, nodding softly. “Go on,” You encouraged. “Speak to me.”

The words spilled out of his lips, like a dam of emotions, held back by fear. “You make me feel needed here- well, the patients make me needed, but you make me feel wanted. Oh, there is no better feeling than being wanted, my saving grace.” Victor’s hand found its way back to your yours, clasping it, words dancing with the now-steady drumming of the rain. “I need these hands to ground me, hold me, only if you’ll have me.” He pulled your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one so tenderly. Like the tall grass you ran your hands over in the summer, his kisses were soft and warm and warmed you, head to toe.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?” Your brows raised. You were no longer chilled to the bone- you had thawed.

“Since the first day I met you.” Victor whispered against your hand.

You grinned, leaning in a little bit, catching his eyes in yours. “How about you stop kissing my hand and kiss somewhere else, Victor?”

The doctor stopped talking, mouth slamming shut and eyes flickering to your lips. He cleared his throat softly, and exhaled a shaky chuckle. “I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.” A smile pressed to your lips again and you moved your head, catching his eyes.

It took a moment. He nodded, leaning in halfway, and closing his eyes. His hands closed around yours, lips expectant.

You reached up and stroked a hand in his tangle of curls before closing the space. He flinched once your lips brushed his, but leaned back in, solidifying it. Everything fell into place, suddenly. The tugging at your heart every time you saw him, loving the way his name, him, tasted in your mouth, and those flashes of the tenderness you got- his doctorly touch examining your wounds, the fussing and concerns not always done out of his medical oath- how much of it had been done out of love?

Victor broke back, for a moment, enough for him to whisper your name, leaning in and kissing you, deeper, sweeter, humming against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, willing the rain to fall for as long as it wanted to- you had all you would need right here.